Chapter XII

One Year Later

It's ironic isn't it? I've always thought that it's best not to love because you'll always lose them in some way. Well now I've fallen in love with someone I could never have to begin with.

These past three months, since finding that letter lodged in the back of Peeta's journal, have been rough however without the pain of uncertainty I have begun to accept Peeta's death. While it still pains me to think of him and my heart still yearns for him, I know that in time I will find healing again. Peeta helped me to recover after the death of my family and it is his memory and the hope that he gave me that will help me heal after his loss as well.

The days have rolled past and once again the anniversary of the end of the rebellion has come. As the day approached I felt sadness again, remembering this time last year when I was happy with Peeta. This year in the days leading up to the celebrations rumor stirs that the President has something special in store this year.

The celebrations commence and I sit alone before the television screen. The screen shows again the celebrations from the different districts and the biographies of the victors and tributes to the fallen that have happened every year, although I never truly paid them that much attention until last year. And then my heart is wrenched when the final video, the one dedicated to Peeta's life, begins. Last year I remember the strange feeling of sitting with Peeta's ghost while watching his life on the television. This year it's harder because Peeta is no longer here.

The video comes to a close and I roughly wipe the tears away from my eyes. Next comes the address from the President. He comes out into the conference where reporters and media have gathered. Just like every year he once again gives mention to the heroes and victims of the old days. He gives a reminder of the horrible ways of old and how lucky we are to live in the golden age we enjoy now. Of course he mentions Peeta and the hero he was.

After the end of his praise of the great Peeta Mellark the President stops and looks down at his pulpit with a strange and giddy smile. When he looks up his face is alight with excitement.

"Citizens of Panem." His voice carries a hint of triumphant joy, "It is with great pleasure and honor beyond all recognition that I bring this news. One year ago today, on the hundredth anniversary of the rebellion, something truly incredible happened. Upon the end of the rebellion hero Peeta Mellark disappeared and the rest of his life and his death was unknown to our history books. It is one of this nations best kept secrets but today I have been given the honor of revealing that secret."

A small chuckle escapes me as I think that I am already privy to this secret. However dread builds in my chest as the confirmation of my suspicions draws near.

"After the war a certain doctor named Augustus Aurelius undertook a secret research project in hopes that he could make a break through in medicinal science. Through the use of cryogenics Doctor Aurelius preserved Peeta Mellark who agreed to take part in this research."

The President continues to outline the details of Doctor Aurelius' research and Peeta's participation in it. The way he speaks of Peeta makes him out to be a hero and a saint. They don't even know how depressed he was or how deeply he was hurting. They'd rather paint him in a beautiful light than to reveal to the world how badly Peeta was suffering. But that is what the people want to hear. They want the happy story and the happy ending.

"I'm here today to tell you that Doctor Aurelius and his vision have brought us something amazing. One year ago we were finally able to revive Peeta Mellark from his state of suspension."

There is a moment of silence before everyone in the room erupts into cheers.

I am left sitting before my television with my mouth wide open in shock.

"It has taken this entire year to rehabilitate him but I am proud to say that Mr. Mellark is ready to make his first appearance. Please join me in welcoming national hero Peeta Mellark."

The entire room stands and cheers even though confusion and disbelief still play at their minds.

I however find myself collapsed on my knees in front of my television screen watching with unparalleled happiness as Peeta, alive and well and just as beautiful as the video footage showed, walks to greet the President.

When the cheering dies down Peeta takes the microphone and the voice I have missed so much this last year filters into my home.

"Thank you so much for such a warm welcome. I cannot even begin to describe how difficult this last year has been for me but the support I've received from the new Panem has been amazing." He smiles as he speaks but it isn't the smile I recognize. It's not a true smile.

I can't even imagine how difficult it would be for him to wake up one hundred years later; of course he did spend those years as a ghost in this house.

"It is absolutely mind boggling to wake up one hundred years after Doctor Aurelius put me into suspension. To see this new world and how far it has come from the one I left is awe-inspiring. I cannot wait to learn more about what has happened these hundred years."

The reporters start to fire away with questions and Peeta dutifully answers them.

"Mr. Mellark do you have any memories at all from the time you were in the comatose state?"

"Unfortunately no." And with that my heart breaks. He doesn't remember. All of our time together is only a memory for me. He doesn't remember me or that we'd fallen in love.

"The last memory that I have before I went to Doctor Aurelius' lab is my last visit to my home in District Twelve's Victors Village. I said my goodbyes to my home and my life before returning to the Capitol to partake in this research."

"What has this past year been like for you?" Another beady-eyed reporter pipes up from the middle of the crowd.

"It has been strange indeed. This Panem is much different than the Panem that I left behind. It is better and it fills me with happiness to see that everything we fought for has been worthwhile and to see that lives were not lost in vain.

Of course not only that but the rehabilitation has been difficult. I never thought I'd have to relearn to walk, I now have a greater respect for those who've lost a limb in the war and it makes me proud to have been a part of the research that Doctor Aurelius started."

"What are you planning on doing next?" A busty blonde reporter asks with a lustful stare.

"Well I still have more therapy to continue, to fully complete the research, so for the foreseeable future I'll remain here in the Capitol and I'll play cards with my extensive security detail." He jokes and earns a hearty chuckle from the crowd gathered in front of him.

"Truthfully I have no idea where I'll go from here. Maybe I'll tour the country or settle down here in the Capitol. It's really all up in the air right now. Everyone I ever knew is long gone and I have a chance at a fresh start in a brand new country. I'll figure something out."

…:::…

My vision is blurry. My ears are ringing. My whole body feels strange.

"Peeta." A distant voice calls my name but it's distorted like when water plugs your ears.

A groan rattles in my throat. It's raspy and raw like it hasn't been used in a while.

"Peeta can you hear me?" The room around me comes into view. It's a comforting shade of blue with dark stained wood trim. The only other occupant in the room is an older dark skinned man with kind chocolate brown eyes and grey peppering his dark tightly curled hair. He's wearing a white lab coat and a light blue button down shirt. He looks exactly as a doctor should, soothing.

I nod slowly and attempt to sit up.

"No no." He reprimands calmly. "Stay lying down for now. Peeta can you speak?"

I open my mouth to speak, "Yes." My voice sounds awful, it reminds me of the time when I was a kid and I got so sick that I temporarily lost my voice. It took weeks until I could properly speak again.

"Good. Do you know where you are?" He asks gently.

"A hospital room I assume. Although it is unlike any I remember. They were always white and sterile and unsettling." I rasp.

"Yes I remember those days." He chuckles. "Peeta. Do you remember what happened to you?"

It strains a bit, my mind is still foggy, but I can remember some details. "Somewhat but it's difficult."

"Yes I imagine it is but you have to try very hard, it is important that you try."

"I remember the Hunger Games. I remember the rebellion. And I remember a contract. Dr. Aurelius he wanted to do some research and I agreed."

"Very good Peeta. Very good. Do you remember anything else?"

I shake my head. I remember nothing after that.

"Then let me tell you a story." And he goes forward to tell me of the past one hundred years. All of what Dr. Aurelius' research has done. It seems fantastical and unbelievable.

And so my days go forward. Everyday consists of a few hours of physical rehabilitation, which at first felt impossible. Every part of my body felt weak, I felt completely helpless. But over time my strength came back. I spent at least an hour with a therapist coming to terms with my life before and after being cryogenically suspended. As well as a few hours with a psychologist trying to restore any missing memories from before the experiment as well they try to prod to see if I have any memories or dreams from the time I was unconscious. Of course there is nothing. What I have trouble understanding is why they think I would remember anything, why they would suspect I experienced anything other than unconsciousness.

Before long a year has passed and the President of Panem, a much better man that any who ruled Panem in my time, requests a televised presentation of the research and an official reintroduction of myself. And so I walked out and spoke in front of a room of people and it was strange to think that their parents weren't even alive when I was, or that many of their grandparents were likely only young children if they were born at all.

Once that interview was over I reflected on my own words. I really hadn't thought about what would come next. It had all made perfect sense before, my days were spent recovering and completing the research that Doctor Aurelius started. However I had never stopped to consider what would come next. When I signed that contract I'd just assumed the research would culminate in my death. Never did I expect to be awoken one hundred years later and now I'd suddenly been reminded that once this research was over and complete that I would indeed remain here in this time. It was a strange and unsettling idea indeed.

For now though, I have decided, to push that thought from my mind and to focus solely on doing justice to the work Doctor Aurelius started. After all there was still an estimated six months left in my recovery.

…:::…

And so my days continued much like they had all throughout my recovery. Only once I was stronger I was allowed to explore more of the world outside of the medical facility. However I was never allowed anywhere without a full guard to watch over and protect me, in case I may find myself tired or feeling ill or even pushing myself past my point of recovery. But of course I was glad of their service when confronted with my increasing popularity. A wide variety of people had attempted to approach me, from the interested and curious to the insane and delusional. It was down right unsettling. I'd never had the chance to experience this as victor of the Hunger Games because the rebellion had happened so quickly. And once the rebellion was over I had locked myself away from the world. I wasn't used to being adored and stalked like this.

Then finally the time came when all that could be done was finished. My physical recovery was complete. My therapist deemed me ready for release, as long as I agreed to continue with monthly appointments for the time being. And as well the psychologist had concluded after running all sorts of tests and the like. He seemed greatly disappointed in the lack of findings, in the lack of memories during my time in the cryogenic tank.

At first I moved into a small townhouse in the Capitol. Thankfully all my riches from my days as victor had been held for me, I was able to purchase a quaint home and spend my days baking and painting. But I soon found myself yearning to return home to district twelve. I so badly wanted to see it again, to see how it had changed. So I bought a train ticket and prepared for my journey.

…:::…

The train system had changed drastically. The cars were no longer so vastly lavish and a means only to bring tributes to the Capitol but rather they were a simple elegant form of public transportation. Within each car were several small compartments for travelers to claim and I found it quite comfortable even though it wasn't built with all the extravagant features of the trains I had once known. No longer did it seem to be a death sentence to ride in these cars, now it was a relaxing affair. I watched out the window as world sped by. The Capitol had not changed to drastically. After all it was already a place of unparalleled technology, rather it seemed a bit toned down from the Capitol I knew, and that fact made me happy. But it was the districts that truly showed great progress. No longer did they seem run down but they too were built with the same care and craftsmanship as had once only been available to the capitol and richer districts. The cities I could see looked absolutely incredible.

And then there was district twelve. Town square amazingly remained very similar. A placard I read said that it had been preserved and rebuilt as best they could after the wreckage of the Capitol bombs. I was thankful, extremely so, that the bakery my family had once owned, was not a part of this preservation. Again the placard told me that it was beyond recognizing and as there had been no documentation of it rebuilding it was the effort of their best estimates. Still I don't think I could have bared to see it built as it used to be, this made the pain much more bearable even though the memory of my family would still always pain me in some way. The people of district twelve were as good as I remember, here I had no need for an armed escort because no one bid me more than a simple greeting despite their recognition of who I am. It made me happy to see that district twelve had blossomed. Around the historic town square the city flourished and all around I saw that the segregation of merchant and seam was nonexistent. It warmed my heart.

Still the city had not moved as far as the Victor's Village and I had to pay for a cab to take me there. Excitement flooded through me at the thought of seeing my home again, I couldn't shake the feeling that something important was waiting for me, although I really couldn't understand why because there was nothing there for me anymore. Even when I had lived there it was not a happy place for me so logically I shouldn't be excited to see it. But nonetheless as the car approached the weathered gates my heart pounded in my chest. I paid the driver and asked him to return for me in a few hours.

As I walked through the gates I noticed how particularly run down it had become. These past one hundred years had not been cruel but they had certainly not been kind either. The grass was over grown and the paint was chipping. All of the houses were in disrepair. All but one that is. Only the house that had once been mine appeared to be in impeccable condition, as if someone had taken great care in upholding it.

It was the sound of a door slamming that drew my ear and eye. From my house emerged a young woman with flowing brown locks. Her was head bent over examining the item in her hand and so her hair obscured her face. But every second I looked at her I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew her.

A/N: Hello all! I hope you are doing well. I'm really glad that I finally pushed past that writer's block because I am so excited with the way this story is going. I hope you are enjoying it too. Let me know what you think!