A/N: Thanks to Elricsister for beta-ing.


Once the initial contact is made, his presence in my life just becomes more and more lingering as the days go on. It's a completely new dynamic, not being forced together constantly like we were before. Now, if I want to see him, I have to seek him out myself, and just the knowledge that I do, in fact, want to see him terrifies me. It's a want that starts deep in the pit of my stomach and warms me from my chest to the ends of my fingers and the tips of my toes; a want not exactly romantic but far too strong to be platonic. It's electricity in its most natural form, not caused by lightning in the sky or wires in the walls, but by something primal and ancient that comes and goes with the vulnerabilities of our human nature.

I still go into the woods, but I don't stay out too long now. I hunt if I have the energy and rest if I don't. Regardless though, I always come home before noon and Peeta is always baking something when I get there.

Much to my surprise, Haymitch also starts to visit, something that never occurred before. Before, if I wanted to speak to him, I would have to force open his door and confront him myself. Now, he comes often and unannounced, stealing a bite of whatever Peeta or Sae are serving and drinking when his plate is clear.

Meals become a sort of social event in my household. Haymitch, Peeta, Sae, and I are always there without fail and sometimes Greasy Sae's granddaughter, Tessie, joins us as well.

We make an odd group, the lot of us. With the way our routines have come to intertwine, an outsider might mistake us all for a family.

What they are to me, I'm not sure, but friends sound too casual and family feels like a betrayal to Prim and my father. All I know is that we take care of each other, and I've long yearned for somebody to take care of me.

At Peeta's insistence, I finally give in to my court-ordered therapy with Dr. Aurelius and we now have three sessions a week—the only time I am ever left alone in my house. This simple act of answering the phone when it rings seems to open up all sorts of endless possibilities. With Dr. Aurelius's encouragement, Peeta and I put together heavy care packages of freshly baked bread, pre-cooked game, and roots I dug up from the woods that can be replanted in order to grow herbs and vegetables for years to come.

Thom, one of Gale's old co-workers from the mines, lends me his wheelbarrow and Peeta and I spend an entire day going through the district and delivering the care packages.

Having grown up in the Seam, I am not unaware of what poverty looks like. I have lived in a house with a crumbling foundation. I have shared an outhouse with my neighbors and a bed with my sister. I have re-boiled water from my bath to drink and scraped the mold off expired food to eat. I am not surprised by the poor living conditions of my former neighbors. The hastily constructed shacks which they have built themselves to live in temporarily are crowded and insufficient in providing shelter from extreme weather, but they are not completely unlivable. Yet I am still burdened by a heavy guilt when I see them, because I know that the circumstances under which they have been built are a direct result of my actions.

Peeta, too, is visibly upset by the poorly furnished interiors, the low wooden roofs, and the lack of floorboards but I know that it's not because we share the same burden. Peeta will never have to live with the guilt of starting a war. Right now, all he needs to live with is the after-effects of growing up privileged. Being from Town, he's used to being poor, but he's not used to being desperate.

The day's realizations travel with us on the journey home, and we walk the first mile or so in complete silence. It's not until we've just passed the empty town square that he stops me and verbalizes what we've both been thinking. "Katniss, we have to help these people."

I nod in agreement, but don't say anything aloud. I want to help, of course, but I know deep down what Peeta doesn't. I know that nothing I can do will ever give back these people's loved ones or rebuild their family homes. I know that I could fight in a thousand wars and win a thousand Games but it could never undo the horrors which have been bestowed upon them because of my impulsivity. With one arrow, I took everything from them. With the ignition caused by one spark, I lit the fuse of the bomb that destroyed District Twelve.

I don't let my internal distress show on my face, but around Peeta, I don't have to. He makes me sit down next to him in the now-empty wheelbarrow, claiming that his leg is hurting and I should rest too.

His concern for me only heightens my guilt. Peeta is so kind, so naturally caring and lovable and charismatic. Even in the midst of his own personal dilemma, he temporarily disregards all his previous concerns at the first sign of my uneasiness. He is so good to me. He is so good to me after all this time even though I never deserved any of it. He is so good to me even after I bombed his district, killed his family, and broke some essential part of his mind.

The words Haymitch spoke to me so long ago come back in that instant and I know even more clearly than I did then that they are the truth. I could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve Peeta. He could live one and still deserve somebody infinitely better than me.

"What are you thinking?" Peeta asks softly.

I shake my head, pursing my lips together and focusing intently on the semi-cloudy April sky, willing myself not to crumble completely at his words.

"Katniss," he pries, gentle but insistent, "please talk to me."

I cross my arms across my chest, turning my head away from him so that he cannot see my face. Pressing my fingernails into my upper arms so hard that it burns, I will myself to speak. It won't make me worthy of him, but it'll be enough for him at this moment. "I don't want to upset you," I say quietly.

I feel him shift beside me and he reaches for my hands. "I'm not that fragile, you know," he says, a teasing edge to his voice, "I think I've proven that I can handle you of all people."

"What if…" I don't have to say it. He knows what I'm thinking.

"Katniss, I haven't had an episode in weeks," he reassures me, rubbing gentle circles onto the back of my hands. "Dr. Aurelius has me on so many meds, I don't even feel awake sometimes."

I look at him then. I know what he means. Dr. Aurelius is alright, as far as doctors go, but he still has us both on a rainbow of Capitol medications.

"My meds are just making me fat," I admit sheepishly. Dr. Aurelius has me on a whole array of medications I don't care enough to ask the side effects of. But from what I can see, they're doing something, because all my pants are suddenly too tight in the hips.

Peeta smiles. "That explains why this wheelbarrow's so crowded," he teases.

I poke him playfully in the stomach. "Maybe it's just you, broad shoulders." It's a weak attempt at an insult, but he laughs anyway.

His laugh improves my mood significantly, and we talk of light things for some time before he returns to the initial issue at hand.

"What are we going to do?" He says again.

"I don't know if there's anything we can do," I respond.

He frowns. He may not be as stubborn as I am, but he's not going to give up on a problem that easily. "Do you think any of them would ever move into the Village?" He asks.

I shrug, not wanting to dishearten him with my answer. There is no Seam anymore, but the unspoken principles of it remain, and moving into one of the empty homes in our neighborhood would be a debt nearly unpayable. "I think people still want a little space from us," I say evenly.

"Sae doesn't seem to mind visiting," he reasons.

"Sae's different," I respond, playing with our still intertwined hands.

He relents then. He doesn't want to admit it, but he knows that it's true.

"We could help them build more houses in town," he suggests.

"With what materials, Peeta?" He gives me a look at my tone but doesn't say anything, just lets go of my hands and lets out a deep, tired sigh.

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know," I tell him. I'm wracking my brain for suggestions, wanting more than anything to be able to give him an answer, but nothing of substance is coming to mind.

"I wish there was just a way that we could give them all the things that we have," he says, "we have so much money and space and stuff and meanwhile they live in shacks that leak when it rains and still don't have enough food to feed their children."

"Why don't we just give them our stuff?" I suggest.

His brows furrow and he looks at me for a moment, thinking.

"How many unused beds do you have in your house?" he inquires.

I think it over in my head. "Three." Not counting Prim's.

"And how many unused televisions and couches and desks?" He asks. "What about Haymitch and all the other houses in the Village?"

My eyes widen. There're about nine unused houses in the Victor's Village and every one of them is filled to the brim with unused Capitol furnishings and decor.

Peeta's face brightens with his excitement. "We could go through all of them and ours. Neither of us really want half of the stuff anyway. We could invite everyone from town and let them take whatever they please."

It's a good idea. People from the Seam might not touch any of our things, but it'd be foolish not to take advantage of all the unowned luxuries just collecting dust in the unused homes of the Village.

"Okay," I say, agreeing.

Peeta grins. "So you'll allow it?"

I roll my eyes. "Of course I'll allow it."

We get out of the wheelbarrow and walk the rest of the way home, our moods considerably better. Peeta's so caught up in his eagerness to help that he's forgotten all about my earlier misery. I'm so at ease in the presence of his elation that the pit of ceaseless guilt that always settles at the bottom of my stomach doesn't even cross my mind.

But when the sun sets and he leaves my side, the nightmares still come. No matter how pleasant my daytimes may be, there's always the nightmares.