CHAPTER 36 - DECISIONS

PART I

"Wake up, Peeta."

I groan and force my eyes open. Wherever I am, it's noisy and there's an intensely bright light directly overhead.

"What -" I croak as I feel hand sliding underneath me. I'm dimly aware of the right side of my neck and jaw aching.

"Come on now, sit up." A kind, but firm, female voice says. I groan again as I'm forced to sit up. The exertion is almost too much and I feel my head spin.

"That's it," the voice says. "Okay, take a few deep breaths. In...out...in...out. That's it! A couple more now - in...out...in...out. Okay, now give me a cough."

I cough weakly. "Come on, now. You can do better. One more." I cough again, a little stronger this time. "That's it. One more just like that." I manage another cough, while attempting to glare at the voice torturing me. It's difficult as I can't even really focus my eyes.

"Okay, that's enough," the voice says, as the hands gently lower me back onto the bed. "Just relax for a bit. We'll get you back to your room soon."

I sigh, allowing my eyes to flutter closed. The memory of where I am begins to come back. I'm in Victor's Mercy Medical Center, in the Capitol. This morning surgeons removed the implant from my jaw, as well as a mystery object located near my right carotid artery.

These items were immediately taken into Defense Forces custody, to be turned over to Haymitch Abernathy. Haymitch was my Advocate, representing me in front of the High Tribunal during my competency hearing. Haymitch was determined to prove that my attack on Katniss was a direct result of the influence and drug-induced manipulation of Doctor Drusilla Nivosus, District Twelve's new physician, who had lead a double life as my Interrogator while I was a Capitol prisoner after the Third Quarter Quell had ended with the destruction of the arena.

Katniss. I squeeze my eyes shut and stifle a sob. For the second time in less than a year, I almost killed her. I'm determined that there will never be a third time. If Haymitch is successful, and I'm sure he will be, my plan is to disappear the instant that I'm released from the hospital. She deserves happiness and a long life - two things that she won't get with me.

I take a few slow, deep breaths before opening my eyes. I can't let anyone in on my plan - especially Haymitch. If he even suspects that I'm planning on disappearing he would make sure that I spend the rest of my hospital stay in full restraints, and would insist on an armed escort to the hoverplane. No, I've already slipped and told one person - my nurse, Amalthea Loveland, I learned is her name. I immediately swore her to secrecy.

I think Amalthea is a bit star-struck where I'm concerned. Under that cool, professional medical exterior beats the heart of a Peeta Mellark fan. So naturally she was horrified at my plan - but at the same time promised to not betray my trust in her.

"I see you're awake," a new voice says. I force my eyes open and, with difficulty, focus on the source of the voice. A man wearing hospital scrubs and cap is looking down on me. Definitely Capitol, he appears young - maybe early thirties. When he sees my eyes open he smiles.

"I just wanted to tell you that everything went well," he says. "You'll have a little soreness for a day or two. Let the nurses know if you need anything for pain."

"Okay," I mumble. Talking definitely hurts.

"I'll check on you tomorrow, Peeta," the doctor says, patting my shoulder. "Try to get some rest." He turns and speaks quietly to the nurse, then, with a final smile, he leaves.

"Your vitals are looking good," the nurse says, examining a diagnostic screen mounted over the bed. "I think we can get you back to your room now."

In short order I'm disconnected from all the machines in the recovery room and wheeled back to my room - or cell, depending on how you look at it. A pair of Avox orderlies help me transfer from the gurney to the bed. I'm disappointed that neither of them is Zoticus.

The nurse fusses over me for a moment, then fixes me with a stern look. "You have an IV line going in you," she says. "I'll make a deal with you. You promise to be good and not mess with your IV and I won't put you in restraints. Deal?"

"Deal," I croak, my voice still thick from the medication.

"Okay," she says with a small smile. "I'll check on you in a bit. Would you like something to read?"

"No, thanks," I reply. "I'm a little tired."

"Get some rest, then," she says with another smile as she slides the door shut.

I sigh and stare up at the ceiling. Katniss. I can't get her out of my mind. Maybe, I say to myself, maybe I'm wrong. Maybe I should go back to Twelve. She says that she loves me, even after everything that's happened. Maybe -

I shake my head vigorously, groaning as pain stabs through my neck and jaw. No. I'm a time bomb. Through some miracle I was stopped, not once, but twice, from killing her. I can't trust myself any more. If I love her, I'll do this for her. I'll walk away, and -

It really hits me for the first time. If I am successful, I'll never see Katniss again. I have to let her know why, though. I have to let her know that it's because I love her that I'm doing this.

A letter. She wrote me a letter. I've read it over and over and over. I'll write her a letter. I'll leave it where Haymitch is sure to find it. He'll make sure that she gets it. I hope she understands.

I was a model patient for the rest of the day - even smiling and laughing a bit when Haymitch came to visit. The continuation of my hearing was scheduled for the next day, and Haymitch was going to introduce into evidence two items: the bone conducting receiver-transmitter, as well as the mystery object - a small shredded capsule that had been implanted next to my right carotid artery, then caused to burst on command from Nivosus - flooding my system with the lysergide derivative. Haymitch seemed both surprised and pleased to see me in such an upbeat mood.

If only he knew the real reason why.

Amalthea was on duty later that afternoon when my dinner was brought to me. I ask her at that time for paper, pen, and an envelope. I didn't tell her what it was for. I didn't need to.

"Peeta...you know I'll help you," she says sadly, "But I really think that you should give this a little more thought."

"Thea, I can't!" I reply insistently. "How many more times? How many more attacks? Nivosus is still out there! She wants to destroy us both! And I know there's others...others that wanna use me to get to her! No. I need to do this. I need to disappear."

Amalthea doesn't say a word in response - but later, when my dinner was cleared away, she presents me with the materials that I asked for.

I end up laying on the floor - the only horizontal flat surface in my room that's firm enough for me to use as a writing table, and slowly, carefully ink my letter. The letter that will sever me from Katniss forever.

Dearest Katniss,

By now I'm sure you know of my disappearance. And, if I know you, you're probably worried sick about me. Please don't worry. I'm alive.

And I want you to stay alive. That's why I disappeared. I've almost killed you twice. I can't risk chancing a third attempt.

I can almost hear you right now - "Peeta, none of that was your fault!" And you're right - none of it was my fault. But knowing that would bring me no solace if you end up dead by my hand.

I want you to know that I love you. I've loved you for over 13 years and I will love you for the rest of my life. It's because I love you that I am doing this. You deserve a chance at life - a chance at finding some happiness. And you won't get that if you live in constant fear of me having yet another seizure.

I know now that I've been selfish. Insisting that you stay with me in spite of the danger. I had no right to expect that of you. I just want nothing but good things for you. I only ask three things of you.

One - please don't come looking for me. We both need to heal. We both need to learn how to live without the other.

Two - never forget me. Please.

Three - please try to find it in your heart to forgive me someday.

I will love you forever,

Peeta

I couldn't write any more even if I wanted to. I clumsily wipe my eyes with the sleeve of my scrubs and then carefully fold the letter and place it in the envelope. I carefully seal the envelope and address it in neat handwriting:

TO KATNISS EVERDEEN, C/O HAYMITCH ABERNATHY

I slip the envelope under my thin mattress. Now that I've put my thoughts on paper, I don't feel the crushing sadness that had been threatening to overwhelm me ever since I realized that I have to disappear in order to give Katniss her best chance at happiness and a long life.

Now I just feel empty.

PART II

"Mister Abernathy, please call your first witness." The First Justice glances down at Haymitch's table from his position on the dais.

Haymitch stands up. "Thank you, Your Wisdom. I call Beetee Latier."

A door off to Haymitch's left opens and Beetee wheels into the Tribunal hall. The soldier escorts him to the witness chair, where he's allowed to pull his own motorized chair next to the witnesses station. The soldier helps Beetee to stand and carefully transfers him to the other chair. Once seated, the soldier instructs Beetee to insert his right hand into the slot at the end of the arm of the chair. Once his hand is in place, a light flashes green.

"The witness is ready, Your Mercy," the soldier says.

"Thank you," the First Justice says. "Advocate, you may proceed."

"Thank you, Your Wisdom," Haymitch says, stepping forward. A small cart has been placed in front of his table. Haymitch pushes the cart over to Beetee.

"'Mornin', Beetee," Haymitch says with a grin. "Thanks for being here."

"Hello, Haymitch," Beetee replies with his own grin. Absently he pushes his glasses back with his middle finger. "And if you recall, I was subpoenaed - by you."

"Objection!" The People's Advocate shoots to her feet. "Your Mercy, it's quite obvious that the witness and the Advocate are on friendly terms. This calls the witnesses impartiality into question."

"Your Mercy, if I may," Beetee says to the assembled Justices. The First Justice raises an eyebrow, but finally nods his head slowly, a small smile on his face.

"Thank you," Beetee says. "I would just like to state for the record that Haymitch Abernathy and I have, indeed, known each other for well over twenty five years. We share a special bond - one that very few people can really understand. We're Victors, Your Mercy...and there are very few of us left. And while I was never known as the most charismatic, outgoing, or likeable - I was known among my peers as a man of integrity. Now, I realize that the People's Advocate cannot be concerned about my not telling the truth - what with my right hand resting on a physiological sensor that will detect the slightest falsehood - but, perhaps she's concerned that I may attempt to lead Mister Abernathy's line of questioning. My intention is simple - to answer his questions. Period."

"People's Advocate, is Mister Latier's assurance satisfactory?" The First Justice asks.

"It is, Your Mercy," she replies.

"Very well," the First Advocate says. "Mister Abernathy...Mister Latier. Please address each other with a tad less familiarity."

"Of course, Your Wisdom," Haymitch says, turning back to Beetee. "Mister Latier, do you recognize the items on this cart?"

Beetee leans forward. He reaches out with his free hand, then glances back at the dais. "May I?" he asks.

"Please." The First Justice gestures towards the cart. Beetee picks up what I recognize as the receiver-transmitter.

"Hmmmm," he says, more to himself than anything else. "This is a Vanguard Model Twenty Thirteen receiver-transmitter-recorder. It's favored for its light weight and versatility. It's seen wide service in both the former Peacekeeper Corps as well as the new Defense Forces."

"So, it's applications are primarily government and military?" Haymitch asks.

"Yes," Beetee replies dryly, "especially considering that, under the Snow regime, mere possession of this device was illegal and would result in a flogging, at the very least."

"Thank you, Mister Latier," Haymitch says with a smirk. "Now, about the other item."

Beetee puts the radio back on the cart and carefully picks up a very small item. "Yes," he says, "This is a bone conducting micro receiver-transmitter. It's favored for military use primarily because, once it is implanted, the wearer doesn't have to 'operate' it. It receives a signal from a transmitter, such as the Twenty Thirteen here, and through the anchor prongs -" Beetee holds up the device to display four small, pointed prongs "- into the bone, where the signal is converted to sound and conducted to the inner ear. When the wearer speaks, the voice is conducted through the bone to the anchor prongs and from there to the transmitter."

"How is it powered?" Haymitch asks.

Beetee smiles. "That's the real beauty of this device. The electrical energy created by human nerve impulses provide all the power that it needs. No batteries required."

"And is it difficult to implant?" Haymitch asks.

"Remember the trackers that Tributes were implanted with before each Games?" Beetee replies. When Haymitch nods Beetee continues with, "It's the same principle. The fundamental difference is that trackers were implanted into muscle tissue. This -" he holds up the small object "- is implanted into bone. More care must be observed, but a trained technician can complete an implant in ten seconds."

"I see," Haymitch says. "You're knowledge regarding these devices is impressive, Mister Latier."

"It should be, Mister Abernathy," Beetee replies with a sly smile, "being as I invented them."

"Thank you." Haymitch says, returning his smile. "No further questions."

"People's Advocate?" The First Justice says. "Your witness."

"Thank you, Your Mercy." The People's Advocate stands up. "As this is not a criminal trial, but a preliminary competency hearing, I would like to ask the witness to engage in a bit of conjecture."

The First Justice nods. "Proceed."

The People's Advocate turns to Beetee. "Mister Latier, are you aware of the circumstances surrounding the acquisition of these two items?"

"I am," Beetee says with a nod.

"And, would you agree that Mister Abernathy has an almost paternal interest in both Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark?"

"The Mentor/Tribute relationship can be extraordinarily complex," Beetee replies thoughtfully, "especially when it evolves into a Mentor/Victor relationship. But yes, his interest goes far beyond mere friendship or any perceived obligation on his part."

"What lengths do you think he would go to protect his charges?"

"I'm not sure I understand your question."

"Let me rephrase, then. Speaking hypothetically, do you think that Advocate Abernathy would fabricate or plant evidence that would be beneficial to his case?"

I can see Haymitch glower at the People's Advocate as she speaks. She pointedly ignores him. To Haymitch's credit, he manages to keep his mouth shut, even as the People's Advocate, for all intents and purposes, calls him a liar.

"If I understand you correctly, you're asking me if Haymitch Abernathy would be capable of lying or cheating to further his cause?"

"Putting it crudely, yes. Please answer the question, Mister Latier."

"In that case - yes. Yes he would."

I stare in amazement at the Holo-TV. Beetee just came out and stated his opinion that Haymitch would plant evidence in order to exonerate me. I can see that Haymitch is just as shocked as I am.

"All Victors are capable of doing what you suspect Haymitch Abernathy of doing," Beetee continues smoothly. "Surviving the Hunger Games is much more than simply killing others without dying yourself. It's as much about outwitting your opponents as it's about killing them. I lied through my teeth to the Career pack in my Games, lulling them into a false sense of security, convincing them that I was on their side - until I electrocuted them. Peeta Mellark convinced his Career pack that he wanted Katniss Everdeen dead as much as they did - before he turned on them and saved Katniss."

"Thank you, Mister Latier. No further -"

"Please." Beetee speaks quietly as he holds up his left hand, palm out. His quiet dignity commands respect, even from the assembled justices. "If I may have the indulgence of the Tribunal."

"Your Mercy, I'm through with this witness."

"So noted, People's Advocate." The First Justice turns to Haymitch. "Advocate, would you have any objection to hearing what Mister Latier would like to say to this Tribunal?"

"None at all, Your Wisdom." Haymitch replies, smirking at the People's Advocate.

"Thank you," the First Justice says, turning to Beetee. "Please continue, Mister Latier."

"Thank you, Your Mercy," Beetee says. "I believe the question posed to me by the People's Advocate is actually in two parts. I answered the first part. Now I wish to answer the second."

Beetee pauses for a moment before continuing. "Haymitch Abernathy did not plant this evidence. This particular model of radio is not readily available on the non-government market, and each radio is easily traceable by serial number. First Justice, I assume that the serial number has been traced?"

"It has," the First Justice admits. "There was no indication that Mister Abernathy was ever involved in the ownership of theses devices prior to the day of the attack."

Beetee nods in satisfaction. "Furthermore, placing the implant requires medical skill that Mister Abernathy simply does not possess. Now, it's not outside the realm of possibility that his friend, Doctor Galen Wellgood, could have placed the implant, but now, instead of a plot by one man, now you have a conspiracy involving at least four people - not to mention that the target of this theoretical conspiracy, Doctor Drusilla Nivosus, is still missing."

"Thank you, Mister Latier," the First Justice says. "This Tribunal had never seriously considered that Mister Abernathy had any other involvement with this equipment other than what he had stated previously - both by sworn deposition and here in this Tribunal. Further, we have listened to the recordings that remained on the Vanguard Twenty Thirteen and voiceprint comparison has identified the owner of the voice, with one hundred percent accuracy, as Doctor Drusilla Nivosus."

The First Justice examines the computer screen set up in front of him before speaking again. "Mister Latier, you are excused. Does either Advocate wish to call any more witnesses?"

As Beetee is helped back into his wheelchair and wheels out of the Tribunal, both Haymitch and the People's Advocate decline. "This Tribunal is in recess. We will reconvene in one hour. At that time we will either render our decision or continue the case until tomorrow. However, given the evidence and testimony presented, I feel confident that you will have a decision in one hour."

"All rise!" The soldier standing off to one side barks out. The Advocates both rise as the Justices file out. The screen goes blank.

Amalthea stands up. "I need to check in with Doctor Aurelius, Peeta," she says. "Do you need anything?"

"No," I reply softly. "I'm fine." I lay back on my bed and drape my arm across my eyes.

"No," Amalthea says sadly right before she slides the door shut, "you're not."

Around a half-hour later, my door slides open again, revealing Doctor Juno Aurelius. He flashes me a quick smile before he slides the door shut. He places his chair on the floor next to my bed and sits down.

"Here for the grand finale, doc?" I ask, sarcasm tingeing my voice. "If so, you're a bit early."

"I am," Aurelius admits, ignoring my sarcasm, "but I wanted to talk to you about something first."

Thea! She told him! I fight to keep my face impassive, even as I reply, "Sure. What's up?"

Aurelius looks uncomfortable. "It's - well, it's pretty shocking, actually," he finally says. "Let me start at the beginning."

I relax, now fairly confidant that he knows nothing about my plans to disappear as soon as I'm out of lockup. "Go ahead."

"One of the labs techs here made a discovery quite by accident," Aurelius says. "He was running some of your lab work through some fairly routine testing, and, without meaning to, ordered up a DNA cross-match."

"So?" I ask, shrugging my shoulders.

"Peeta, a DNA cross-match searches the data base for any and all matches to your DNA," Aurelius explains. "You remember how the Peacekeepers insured compliance with the mandate for all eligible children to attend the Reapings each year?"

"Yeah." I shudder a bit at the memory of an impatient, bored Peacekeeper pricking my finger with a needle, drawing a tiny amount of blood, and inserting the sample into a hand-held reader, where the sample would be scanned and my identity verified, then pressing my bleeding finger onto the square next to my name in the ledger.

"Yes - well, that DNA remains on file to this day, as does the DNA of every child born in Panem during the Hunger Games era." Aurelius pauses and pulls a sealed envelope from an inner coat pocket.

Handing the envelope to me, he says, "These are the results of your DNA cross-match. I've had the record sealed. But I felt that you have a right to know."

I rip the envelope open, extracting a single page, neatly folded into threes. I unfold the paper and scan it quickly. My name is printed in bold across the top, with strings of, to me, meaningless numbers following. Beneath the numbers a column of names was printed. I swallow heavily as I read the names.

Dad. Mom. My two brothers. My father's cousin Rooba, the former butcher in District Twelve, and her children. All killed the night of the firebombing. A few other names - distant relatives that mean nothing to me. And, at the very bottom, one name that literally leaps off the page at me.

PRIMROSE EVERDEEN

I look up at Aurelius in confusion. "Why is Prim's name on here?" I ask.

Aurelius takes a deep breath before responding. "When I saw her name, I had the test run again for confirmation. There's no doubt, Peeta. Primrose was your half-sister."

I close my eyes tightly, taking a few deep, shuddering breaths of my own. Prim? My half-sister? My eyes suddenly snap open and I look at Aurelius wildly, feeling panic welling up inside me.

"Wait!" I cry out. "If Prim was my half-sister, that means that Katniss and I -"

"- Are not related!" Aurelius finishes firmly. "Peeta! Do you understand? You and Katniss are not related in any way!"

"This...this is too much," I mutter, leaning back against the wall. "This means that my father...and Una Everdeen..."

"Yes," Aurelius says gently.

I shake my head, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "Did you ever hear the story about the first time I remember seeing Katniss, doc?" I ask.

"I seem to recall you mentioning it during your first Games," Aurelius replies gently. "But please, refresh my memory."

"It was the very first day of school for Katniss and I," I say, closing my eyes at the memory. "We were both five at the time. I had never met Katniss before that day. She was Seam, I was Town. Seam and Town didn't ever mix well. My father pointed her out to me. She was in a red plaid dress and her hair was done up in two braids, and she was with her father that day. My dad pointed her out to me and said, 'See that little girl, Peeta? I was in love with her mother, but she ended up marrying a miner instead.'"

It was only after I stopped talking that I realize that I'm crying. I glance over at Aurelius. His face is impassive as he hands me a box of tissues. I wordlessly take the box from him.

"I know it's not good to speak ill of the dead, doc," I say after I blow my nose, "but my mother was a stone bitch. I'm not surprised that my father strayed from her. What is surprising is that Una Everdeen cheated on her husband."

"Possibly she still had feelings for your father, Peeta," Aurelius says gently.

"I guess so," I reply flatly. Did you know, Dad? Was this something you kept from us all? And did Una know...or even suspect? Katniss is Seam through and through, while Prim looked perfectly at home among the Merchants.

"You're taking this news remarkably well, Peeta," Aurelius says, relief in his voice.

"It's not - unwelcome, doc," I reply. "Prim and I grew quite close after the Seventy-Fourth Games." That was all true. Prim and I had become close friends in spite of our age difference and radically different backgrounds. I had even begun to think of her as the little sister that I never had.

But now - now I know the truth. Prim was my sister. Always had been.

"Will you tell Katniss?" Aurelius asks. Katniss. Of course she has a right to know. But she will never hear it from me.

"She certainly has a right to know," I reply. There. Nice and neutral. But part of my mind couldn't help but wonder exactly how Katniss will take the news. I somehow doubt that she will be very understanding where her mother is concerned. I know how much she loved her father. I'm sure that this will undo whatever progress she and her mother have made at understanding each other.

I lean back and sigh. Not like she's gonna hear it from me, anyway. My thoughts are interrupted by Amalthea returning, with Zoticus in tow.

"Has it started again?" she asks anxiously, then, "Oh. I'm sorry, Doctor. Are we interrupting?"

"No, and no," Aurelius says with a relieved smile. "You're just in time, it seems." As he speaks the Holo-TV flickers back to life.

PART III

"In addition to the evidence and testimony offered during these proceedings," the First Justice says somberly, "there was one additional item of evidence introduced by the Defense Advocate that was not examined in the open tribunal."

The First Justice presses a button on his computer terminal, and a view screen behind and to the right of the raised dais comes to life. Displayed on the screen was an unrecognizable mass that, when a ruler is placed in the field of view for scale, is actually quite small - not even a centimeter in length.

"People's Advocate, I'm sending a copy of a sworn deposition by the surgeon that removed both the bone conducting communicator as well as this object." The First Justice taps a command on his keyboard. "Please take a moment to review the deposition while we summarize the findings for you."

As the People's Advocate reads the deposition, a voice on the view screen explains that the object is the remnants of a small capsule that appeared to have been implanted at the same time as the object that had been imbedded in my jaw. This object had been placed near my right carotid artery and was similar to capsules used to deliver time release medications. The difference was that this capsule had what the voice on the view screen describe as a "micro-squib" inserted into it. This "micro-squib" was basically a microscopic explosive that, when detonated, would cause the capsule to burst and release the entire contents into my tissues at once.

"Testing of the remnants of this capsule have discovered trace amounts of the same lysergide derivative that has been discovered in Peeta Mellark's blood samples." The First Justice glances at the People's Advocate. "Advocate, it is your right to request independent analysis of the capsule remnants as well as direct examination of the physician that prepared the deposition."

"Your Mercy," the People's Advocate replies, "I accept the findings of the Tribunal and can't find anything to indicate that the integrity of this evidence has been compromised in any way. The People decline analysis and direct examination."

"Then this Tribunal shall now render its decision," the First Justice says as he rises to his feet. The other four Justices follow suit. "Would all parties please stand?"

Haymitch and the People's Advocate both stand up. Aurelius flashes me a quick smile as Zoticus pats me on the shoulder and Amalthea squeezes my hand.

"The decision reached by this Tribunal was unanimous. There were no dissenting opinions. This preliminary hearing has judged that Citizen Peeta Mellark of District Twelve was neither consciously or subconsciously responsible for his actions that resulted in the attempted murder of Citizen Katniss Everdeen this past September Fifth. Further, this tribunal has been presented with sufficient evidence to request that a nationwide arrest warrant be immediately issued for the arrest of Doctor Drusilla Nivosus on several charges, the most serious being War Crimes committed in the name of former President Coriolanus Snow and Attempted Murder." The First Justice pauses for a moment before continuing.

"This Tribunal has determined that insufficient evidence has been presented by the People to hold Citizen Peeta Mellark over for a full competency hearing. Citizen Peeta Mellark is adjudged to not be a danger to society at large. All criminal charges against Citizen Peeta Mellark are hereby dismissed in the interests of justice, and he is released to the care of his Advocate, Haymitch Abernathy, as soon as his physicians judge him to be medically fit for release from their care."

I find myself letting out my breath, unaware that I was holding it the entire time. Aurelius, grinning, shakes my hand, as does Zoticus, while Amalthea hugs me tightly.

"Congratulations, Peeta," Aurelius says. "Not guilty. You can go home soon."

"Not guilty," I repeat quietly. Not guilty doesn't mean innocent. It still was me that did those horrible things to Katniss.

The door to my room suddenly slides open as an orderly enters, pushing a wheelchair. I look at him, then at Aurelius, in confusion.

"I'm supposed to move you to a regular bed, Mister Mellark," the orderly explains. "You are no longer in confinement."

"Oh," I reply, feeling panic rise up inside me. Katniss's letter is still under the mattress. How am I going to retrieve it? I get a sudden inspiration as I stand and suddenly hug Amalthea.

"Thank you for everything, Thea," I say sincerely, then, as I hold her even tighter, my lips next to her ear, I whisper, "The letter's under the mattress."

She immediately whispers back, "I'll take care of it," then pulls away with a smile and says, "I'm just glad that everything worked out for you!" Her eyes meet mine for an instant and she gives me a quick, almost imperceptible nod.

I feel myself relax a little as I settle into the wheelchair. "Any time," I say, forcing a smile onto my face. The orderly backs me out of the room as Aurelius promises to visit me in my new room later on that day. He and Zoticus watch me leave with large smiles wreathing their faces.

Only Amalthea watches me with eyes that are infinitely sad.

PART IV

"Here you go, kid," Haymitch says, tossing a small gym bag on my bed as he enters my room.

"What's this?" I ask, pushing aside the tray containing the remnants of my dinner.

"After our tearful reunion earlier today, I realized that you had absolutely no clothes to wear for your trip home," Haymitch explains, "so I took the liberty of picking up a few things for you."

"Thanks!" I say sincerely as I open the bag. Two pairs of pants, a couple of shirts, underwear, socks, a pair of shoes, even a light jacket - and toiletries: toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, floss, a razor (not that I needed it all that much), shaving cream, soap, shampoo, a comb, and a washcloth, hand towel, and bath towel. Perfect. Not having any clothing had me worried. I couldn't very well walk out of here in a scrub top and pajama pants.

"I spoke to your docs," Haymitch says. "They feel that you're sufficiently healed to go home, but they still want you under a doctor's care for the time being - just to be on the safe side. And you're welcome." Haymitch pauses, reaches inside his jacket, and withdraws a small flask. He uncaps it and quickly takes a drink, then recaps it and returns it to an inner pocket.

Haymitch must have seen the look on my face by his next comment. "Kid, you and Miss Sunshine have, shall we say, put me through the wringer these last few weeks. I promised myself that I would stay sober until I was sure that the worst was behind us. Well, the worst is behind us."

"If you say so," I reply listlessly, as I carefully replace the contents of the gym bag. "So Katniss is back in Twelve?"

"Kid, you need to work on your enthusiasm a bit," Haymitch says wryly. "After all, I just saved you from a life locked up in a padded room. And, to answer your question, no. She's still in Four. She has some more therapy and rehab to do. I spoke to both Galen and Una earlier."

"Oh," I reply. "I was thinking that maybe she would have gone home by now."

"Not for a while yet," Haymitch replies. "And before you ask, the answer is no. No calls. I also spoke with her psychiatrist, Benignus Stone. She's - kid, she is still having nightmares about - that. Stone feels that she needs more time before she hears your voice again."

"I see," I reply softly. I'm doing the right thing, I say to myself. No matter how much it hurts.

"Is this the letter?" Haymitch asks. Startled, I glance up at him and see him holding an envelope. It can't be. Amalthea slid it under the mattress, the same as my old room.

"What?" I say, the pitch of my voice rising several octaves.

"Easy, kid." Haymitch waves the envelope at me. "I understand if you don't want me reading it. I'm sure she got pretty personal, and -"

"No. I mean, it's okay. Go ahead." I feel relief wash over me. He was holding the letter that Katniss had given to him to deliver.

Haymitch looks at me strangely for a moment, then pulls the letter out of the envelope. Sitting down in a chair, he reads the letter, glancing up at me a couple of times as he does so. Finally, with a sigh, he carefully replaces the letter in the envelope and puts it back in the small wardrobe mounted on the wall of my room.

"She's special, she is," Haymitch mutters. "I almost forgot to tell you. Plutarch wants to send a crew in to get some footage of you - you know, now that you're...well, not gonna be - you know."

"Committed, you mean?" I ask bluntly. "Locked up in a padded room?"

"Yeah," Haymitch replies softly. "That. I told him that you probably weren't feeling up to it and that he should probably -"

"Sure," I say. "I'll do it."

Haymitch stares at me in surprise. "Are you sure, kid?" He asks. "I mean, even Plutarch understands that you may need some time."

"I'm fine," I say flatly. "Let's do it and get it over with. Tomorrow morning okay?"

"That should work," Haymitch says, picking up the phone in my room. "We can do it right after they discharge you." As he dials the number he says, "Plutarch is gonna owe you big time for this."

And I just saw the code you punched into the phone to get an outside circuit, I say to myself, as Haymitch speaks in low tones to whoever answered the phone. Finally he glances over at me as he hangs up the phone.

"Okay, it's set," he says. "Tomorrow morning at eleven. And Effie's coming out. She really wants to see you."

I feel a pang when he mentions Effie's name. I am truly fond of her. I really would love to see her. But, I plan on being far away by the time eleven o'clock rolls around tomorrow.

"That'll be great," I say, managing to work up some false enthusiasm. I even manage a smile.

"That's better," Haymitch says approvingly. "Listen, kid, I have to scoot over to Plutarch's office to go over some details for tomorrow. But I'll be back later, okay?"

"Okay, Haymitch," I reply, standing up. The realization that I'll probably never see him again suddenly hits me. I step forward and embrace him tightly. After a moment his arms come up and he awkwardly pats me on the back.

"Thanks," I manage to say. "For everything."

"Uhh...anytime, kid," he manages to respond as he disengages from me. "Listen, I'll be back soon. Don't go anywhere, okay?" He says this last with a wink and a grin.

Does he suspect? I quickly decide that he doesn't. My own imagination is working overtime. I watch as Haymitch walks out of my room. I wait until an Avox orderly comes in to clear away the remnants of my dinner before I pick up the phone. Once I punch in the code for an outside line I quickly dial a number from memory.

I close my eyes as the phone on the other end starts to ring. "Come on, come on - pick up!" I mutter.

After four rings I hear the ring cut off abruptly, followed by a sound that could only be someone dropping their receiver. That sound is followed by a muffled string of curses. In spite of my depression I find myself smiling.

"What?" A female voice finally snarls.

"So nice to hear that some people really never change," I say with a small chuckle.

"Stumpy?" The female voice says after a long pause. "Peeta?"

"Hello, Jo," I reply.

"Peeta, what the hell is going on?" Johanna Mason asks insistently. "Are you back in Twelve? No, never mind, you're calling from a Capitol number. What -"

"Jo, listen," I say urgently, cutting her off. "I need your help. No questions asked. Do you trust me?"

"You know I do," she replies softly. "What do you need?"

"I don't have access to the train schedules here at - where I'm at. I need to know if there's any passenger trains running out of the Capitol tonight. Preferably directly to Seven, but I'll change trains if I have to."

"Shit. Hang on." I hear her footsteps. "Sorry, you woke me up. I'm not worth a shit until I have my coffee."

"Woke you up?" I ask incredulously. "Jo, I've already had dinner!"

"That's what happens when you stay out all night," she mutters. "Okay, hang on, I'm logging on." I can hear a faint beeping in the background, followed by a few bars of a popular song. "Okay, I'm in. Let me find the Panem-Trak site."

I hear her tapping at a computer keyboard. "Okay," she finally says. "Nothing direct to Seven until day after tomorrow."

"Shit," I mutter, prompting a giggle from Johanna. "What?" I ask irritably.

"Peeta Pure-heart cursing?" She says with a laugh. "My, how you've changed!"

"More than you know," I mutter. "Is anything going out tonight?"

"Hmmm," she says thoughtfully, tapping at more keys. "Only thing tonight goes to Ten. Leaves tonight at Ten-Ten. Ha! The train for Ten departing at Ten-Ten!"

"Yeah, very amusing," I say. "Nothing else?"

"Just freight trains," Johanna replies. "The train for Ten arrives very early tomorrow morning, then, let's see - aha!"

"Find something?" I ask hopefully.

"The Western Stinker leaves tomorrow morning from Ten," Johanna replies. "It's a combined livestock and passenger train. Makes the loop from Ten, through Five, Seven, Three, the Capitol, One, Two, then back to Ten. It's a huge train - over two kilometers long, most of which are livestock cars."

"Why do the call it the 'Western Stinker?'" I ask curiously.

"Ever get a whiff of a cattle car?" Johanna replies with a laugh. "It smells like you're swimming in cow shit. Anyway, with luck, you'll be able to catch it. You'll have to hurry, though - your layover in Ten will be less than an hour."

I quickly scribble all this down on a scrap of paper. "Okay, got it." I say. "I guess you figured that I'm headed your way."

"Yeah," Johanna replies warily, "But why is the big question. I woulda thought that you would be chomping at the bit to get back to Brainless."

"It - it's a long story, Jo," I reply softly. "Just trust me, okay? I'll explain when I see you."

"Peeta," Johanna says gently, "You know that I'll help you in any way."

"Then be at the District Seven station when the Western Stinker pulls in," I say firmly. "And please, not a word to anyone."

"See you in three days," Johanna says, and abruptly hangs up.

I stare at the phone for a moment before carefully replacing it in its cradle. No sooner than I do then my door opens and Amalthea walks in.

"I just got off shift," she explains. "And I thought I would check in with you and see if there was - anything you needed."

"Tonight, Thea," I say, standing up. "I need your phone number. I'll call once Haymitch leaves. I go tonight."

Amalthea looks at me with wide, shiny eyes. "What -" she says, swallowing heavily, "- what do you need me to do?"

"You have a car?" I ask. She nods. "I'll need a ride to a bank, and then to the train station."

"Okay," she whispers. "I wish you weren't doing this."

"I wish I didn't have to," I say, my voice thickening. "Have you ever loved anyone, Thea?"

"Yes," she replies quietly. "Once. He was a - he was killed. During the Rebellion. Peacekeepers panicked and shot him one night after curfew. He was a resident, making an emergency call."

"I'm sorry," I say simply.

"The Rebellion took the one man I ever loved," she says, her voice tinged with bitterness.

"Then we both lost something in the Rebellion," I say. "The Rebellion took my soul. Stole from me the person that I once was. And the only way I can protect the one woman that I've ever loved - I have to disappear so I can never hurt her again."

"I think I understand," Amalthea says. "But I still don't like it."

"I hate it," I say flatly. "That's why I know it's the right thing to do. She'll get over it - eventually. She's been through so much worse in her life. She's bent, but never broke."

"How do you know she won't break this time?" Amalthea asks me gently.

"I don't," I admit. "But I would rather have her alive and hating me then dead because of me."

Amalthea turns to leave, but pauses at the door. "I'll see you tonight, Peeta." She leaves before I can say anything more.

I stare at the door for a long time. Then I stand and slowly walk to the wardrobe. I take Katniss's letter to me and carefully insert it into a zipper pocket on the outside of my gym bag. I don't want to forget it. It's my one and only link to her, and the life we might have had together.

I find myself wishing that I had just one picture of her to take with me.

A/N - The "Prim is Peeta and Katniss's half sister" plot twist comes to you courtesy of the germ of an idea planted in my brain a long time ago - but I couldn't figure out a way to use it until now! So, a shout out to TLWtlw is in order! Thanks for making me think about things that I probably wouldn't have even considered :-)