Hi readers! This is a long chapter that's taken me a couple days. I really liked writing it, so I hope you enjoy reading it! Also, as always, thanks to my wonderful reviewers, especially the guest who reviewed, SummerReminisce, AnatomyFreak, sugarangelcookies, and Tori666000. And a very, very special shout out to my editor of sorts, COLLEGEGIRL225! Thanks to all of you : )

Katniss' POV:

I find myself already exhausted by the time I'm walking out the front door of Peeta's house, my father's hunting jacket in hand. I was used to my body aching for the comfort it instinctively associated with sleep, but this was different. Right now, I'm just tired out.

It's been a fairly crazy day so far. Not only have I been up since before the break of dawn, but I also had to cook food for the first time since prior to the Games, and even then I wasn't too good at it. Peeta also discovered the bruises; as a result I spent almost an hour in his arms. Obviously that wasn't physically exhausting, but emotionally it was.

So for these reasons and the fact that Peeta needs me out of the house, I head to the woods. They don't hold warmth, safety, and the insurance of food for my family as they once did. Gale took that with him when he left. Including the only part of my family that mattered.

The thought doesn't destroy me like it should have. I know that's because of Peeta. I don't like it. I don't like depending on him, especially emotionally.

But I know that what I do like about it overshadows my self-preserving fear of dependency. More than anything, more than him keeping away the nightmares, more than his reliability, I like how he makes me feel. Of course my favorite part isn't Peeta, but the effect he has on me. I've always been selfish that way.

But he makes me feel whole. I finally am starting to feel something I was sure I'd never feel again.

I'm starting to feel okay.

I'm not a giddy teenager who gets butterflies in her stomach when she sees the boy she's had her eye on. But I was never that girl, not really. I've always been Katniss, cold, selfish, calculating, survival-first Katniss.

Maybe, just maybe the Girl on Fire isn't dead after all.

It's amazing to me how quickly things can change.

I scoff at myself then.

In one month I went from an illegal hunter to one of the only two co-Victors ever.

In one month I went from my home in the Victor's Village to the broken Mockingjay of the rebellion.

In one month I went from a crazy, knot-tying girl in District 13 to a soldier shooting her president.

And I'm amazed I can go from unsure about Peeta to relying on him?

Ridiculous, is what that is.

I spend the rest of the day deep in the woods, really hunting for the first time in recent memory. I run mine and Gale's snare line. Although it's not something I've done in a while, the action isn't as foreign feeling as I expected.

Because the snare line has gone so long unchecked, there is nothing save for parts of rotting animal carcasses. I manage to hold down my breakfast while cleaning and resetting the snares.

This little hike tires me out; I'm still not as fit as I once was. I retire high up in a tree for some rest before heading out again. When I leave again, I manage to hit a wild turkey and a rabbit, both in the eye. Apparently it's time for the animals to begin to emerge after the winter.

Eventually I almost start to feel as if Gale treads silently behind me, his steps in synchronization with the animals.

I stop dead in my tracks, the sudden movement sending a bird fluttering away. I don't even recover quick enough to shoot it. I can feel my face crumple as if I'm going to cry. No, I'm not allowed to cry. It's weakness, that is.

Soon I feel as if I can't bring enough air into my lungs; it feels as if something is pressing down on my chest. I have to get out of here, now.

Fortunately, I'm not far from the fence at this point, and I take off sprinting. The running seems to help lift the pressure from my chest slightly, but not by much. I roll under the fence hardly breaking stride. The dead rabbit catches slightly on the fence, but I jerk it free and keep running.

I don't stop until I'm at the house. I have only one thought the whole time: Peeta.

I bust through the door gasping for air, and Peeta comes out of his studio looking alarmed. His face softens as he looks at me, and before I know it I'm in his arms and I can't help it, my tears are spilling over onto his shirt.

He leads me into the living room and onto the couch, where he holds me for who knows how long. The sobs wrack through my body and the tears soak his white t-shirt. He doesn't say much, just strokes my hair and murmurs something now and then.

Most importantly, he doesn't ask what happened, for which I am grateful.

As much as I hate to admit it, I need Peeta Mellark.

Finally I raise my head, surely looking terrible. It doesn't matter anyway, if anyone has seen me at my worst, it's Peeta. He smiles gently down at me before lifting a hand to brush against my cheek, taking the remaining tears with it. He doesn't lean towards me or any of the things the teenage girl deep in the back of my mind screams for him to do.

Again, I'm grateful. I may need him, but I can't be like that.

Yet, says the voice.

I shake the thought off for now. I can't think about things that way. I may never be able to.

He wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me upright so we're sitting next to each other on the couch.

"So how 'bout that surprise?" I've forgotten all about it actually, but I swallow and nod anyway.

He gets up, releasing everything but my hand. I hold his tighter than I should, but I need something to hang onto. Something real.

Peeta Mellark is real.

To my surprise, he leads me up the wooden staircase, past our bedrooms, down to the end of hall. He opens a door I didn't realize existed, or never took interest in enough to investigate. When I look inside, I am stunned to see another, much narrower staircase.

I didn't even know there was a third floor in the Victor's Village houses. I suppose, based on the sizes of the houses, I should have realized this. But I just assumed there was some sort of attic I guess. I never actually thought about it, really.

Peeta looks back at my confused expression and smiles before moving aside to hold the door and gesturing me to go ahead.

I move up the steps, sliding my hand along the wall for support. I turn back as I hear the door click shut behind me, and when I look forward again I find myself in a small bedroom, with several windows looking out into the trees behind the house.

It takes me a moment before I realize the significance of the room. Small paintings hang everywhere, a little figure starring in most of them.

Prim.

I move farther into the room, gasping at my beautiful little sister, smiling up through the painting.

Caring for a sick patient.

Petting her goat.

Pointing into a store window.

Sitting in the Meadow.

Looking on, daisies weaved into her hair.

And the largest one, the one that hangs above the pink little bed, has more than one figure in it.

It's me and Prim, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist. Her face is full of happiness, as is mine. There is a door open behind me, so you can assume I've just come back from hunting.

Everything in the room screams little girl. It is perfect, a little desk with books stacked on the shelf behind it, a small dresser with clothes that belonged to Prim folded neatly on top of it. The room my sister never got to have.

More tears start to squeeze out the corners of my eyes and I remember to turn back to Peeta. His face looks pained again as he looks at me, and he rushes to spit out words.

"Katniss, no, I didn't mean to upset you. I'm so sorry."

I shake my head and take in a ragged breath before responding.

"No Peeta. It's, it's perfect. Thank you."

Thanks for reading! There will be more, of course. Please review!