Peeta

"It's called a panic attack," Plutarch explains to the group of us who are assembled around a small conference room table in the infirmary. "It's usually brought on by intense stress after a traumatic event."

"Way to go, asshole," Enobaria grumbles, her intimidating glare locked on Gale where he stands in a corner of the room. He's leaning back against the wall with his shoulders hunched and his arms crossed tightly in front of him. While I'm sure he didn't mean to upset Katniss, I'm certainly not going to contradict Enobaria – we're all thinking it, she just has the balls to say it.

"What did you say to her, Gale?" Prim asks gently. When Katniss had gotten distressed earlier, Prim was the one who kept me from tearing Gale limb from limb. We couldn't tell what was happening to Katniss, but it was obviously bad. Her heart monitor alerted the nurses just before she started screaming. I wasn't too far away, but by the time I launched myself into her hospital room she was trying to pull out her own hair and was wailing in terror as Gale tried to hold her hands down. One of the nurses body-checked Hawthorne out of the way so she could give Katniss a shot to knock her unconscious before she could hurt herself.

I'll have to send that nurse a gift.

Gale looks reluctant to answer Prim, but when he meets the hard eyes of Mrs. Everdeen, all the fight and bluster seems to leave him. "She was upset about President Coin not rescuing the victors sooner. She was being paranoid!" he protests. "She was saying that there were reasons not to trust things here in 13." Johanna snorts audibly at this. He shoots her a dirty look. "I told her she was being ridiculous."

We all sit quietly for a few moments, each victor's expression taking on a look of incredulity.

"Well Gale, we don't have an exemplary track record with Presidents," Finn mocks with a small smirk.

"I know that," he snaps back. "I told her that just because Snow used people, it doesn't mean Coin or 13 will. You victors are completely Odds-damned insane!"

"We're well aware of that," Haymitch sniggers. Said insane victors all chuckle in concession to his observation. If there's anything a victor knows, it's certainly mental anguish.

Mrs. Everdeen stands up and shuts the door, cutting us off from the rest of the hospital wing. "Katniss is not entirely off-base," she softly states.

Gale looks up at her like she just called his name at his final reaping. Any hopes he had of maintaining ground in this fight just fell away, and it appears he's lost one of his only non-victor allies in this room.

"I've spoken with some of the healers here in 13," she explains. "There was an epidemic – a sickness – here a few years ago, and it killed off many of the district's children. It also left many of the adults sterile. Leadership needed more people brought in, otherwise 13's population was going to go extinct. That's why they were so welcoming to the refugees."

Gale appears skeptical of the information Mrs. Everdeen just revealed, and he looks beseechingly over at Plutarch. He desperately wants the man to contradict her assessment of this place.

Unfortunately for him, Plutarch does no such thing. He simply shrugs his shoulders and says, "Quid pro quo, Mr. Hawthorne." Gale's face drops, and Plutarch turns to continue speaking with the rest of us. "This information isn't something President Coin would like widely distributed, but Mrs. Everdeen is not incorrect. We all have something to gain from the current arrangement."

"Who's paranoid now, cousin dearest?" Johanna sneers at Gale.

We may be a bristly bunch, but I can honestly say that I've missed having my outspoken fellow victors around. I was getting really tired of being the only one who didn't trust our hosts.

"Speaking of, Plutarch Heavensbee-in-a-bonnet, can you enlighten us as to why it took over six months for the Queen of the mole-people to mount a rescue mission?" Jo inquires, turning her slightly-unhinged attention towards our former Gamemaker.

"Our intel did not give us a clear idea of where you all were located, Miss Mason, nor did the situation appear dire enough to risk blowing the cover of our Capitol operatives until the most recent interview," he explains. I've heard this litany of explanations before, but I'm surprised at how differently Plutarch appears in his delivery of them today. He's not smiling, for one. He's also writing while he speaks to Johanna. Once he finishes answering her question, he holds up the paper he's been scribbling on so all of us around the table can read it.

Coin knew how bad it was. Thinks Katniss is too broken to be of use, Peeta not as pliable as she hoped. Was prepared to sacrifice any/all victors as martyrs to the Rebellion during rescue.

Do not speak of this out loud.

I swear you could knock all of us over with a feather.

While I'm not terribly surprised by this revelation, I will say I'm disappointed. We victors have lived lives that are not our own for years now, and it seems that even without Snow at the helm we're still suffering the same fate.

Johanna looks ready to scream bloody murder, and Enobaria is tapping her knuckles repeatedly against the table. Gale has gone bone-white and Prim and Mrs. Everdeen look worried. Finnick just seems resigned. And Haymitch, ever the mentor, is finally the one to step up and respond to Plutarch.

"Glad we finally got you all out of there," he replies haltingly. It's not his smoothest work, but at least it's a response that the bugs in the room can pick up. The last thing we need is for Coin to learn the details of today's conversation.

We're saved from having to navigate this deeply awkward conversation further when, from out in the hallway, we suddenly hear someone scream, "Finnick!"

Finn's eyes practically bulge from his head and he whispers, "Annie?" He leaps from this chair, and I doubt he even notices that he knocked it over in his haste. I move to follow him, and watch Plutarch fold his note up and slip it into his pocket, giving me a small nod that promises future conversations about the information he has revealed here today.

In the corridor, Annie is shrieking for Finnick, and he is calling her name back to her. I've sat at Finn's side for weeks, just as he has sat at mine, waiting for this moment when Annie would come back to him. We have wept and raged at every outcome that possibly awaited Katniss and Annie; I have been blessed by the Odds that Katniss came back to me, and now it is Finn's turn to bring Annie home.

And suddenly, it's as if there's no one in the world but these two, crashing through space to reach each other. They collide, enfold, lose their balance, and slam against a wall, where they stay. Clinging into one being. Indivisible.

A pang of jealousy hits me. Not for either Finnick or Annie but for their certainty. No one seeing them could doubt their love. And while Katniss has been affectionate with me since regaining consciousness, I'm reluctant to get my hopes up that her feelings for me have changed in the time we've been apart.

"You know, I told Katniss about those two during the Quell," Jo tells me. She has snuck up behind me and has propped herself against the doorway, watching the exuberant couple reunite. Her fond smile matches mine, both of us affected by their infectious joy. "I told her that love is weird."

"You're not wrong," I admit. I know that many people who have seen Katniss and I together have asked me why I am so devoted to her – her with her blunt practicality, and me with my perceived gentle kindness.

"Well, I know that," she scoffs. "After all, I'm never wrong!" She pauses while I laugh obligingly at her quip. Then she says something that changes everything. "Katniss loves you, you know?"

"It was for the cameras – for the Games, Jo," I protest.

"No, not by the end. She may not have known it in the arena, but she does. She has…for this entire time if you ask me. But she certainly lived up to her nickname and has been pretty brainless about it."

I turn to look at my fellow victor. She's damaged, but she's not broken. None of us are. I wonder if it's at all possible that Jo could be telling me the truth right now.

"Why are you telling me this Johanna?" I ask her outright. I can't afford to play games with my heart anymore, and certainly not about this.

She sighs, absorbing the scene in front of her. "The four of us went through a lot in the Capitol. I don't know how much they've told you or how much Brainless will tell you, but there were a lot of days when we didn't think we were going to live through it." She pauses, releasing a deep watery breath. "There isn't time to waste anymore Peeta, and I know the two of you are just so painfully awkward about all this shit that it may never actually get talked about. So I'm giving you a nudge. Talk to her - blame it on me, if that makes it easier; tell her I said something about it, and you need to know. Fuck if I know – do whatever you have to. Please, just make it happen so I can revel in the happiness of all you idiots."

By the time she's done haranguing me, she's out of breath and I'm grinning at her. She rolls her eyes when she sees the expression on my face.

"Alright, I will. Thank you," I tell her genuinely. "Do you want a hug?" I have to ask, just to get a rise out of her.

"Oh my Odds, go away Mellark!" she yelps at me and slaps me on the shoulder when I take a step towards her despite her refusal.

Still, I loop my arm around her shoulder and pull her in close to me, planting a swift kiss on her shorn head before she can scramble away. "You're a good friend, Mason," I say as she pushes me back from her.

"Yeah, yeah," she mutters, rubbing at her fuzzy scalp. "Don't go spreading it around or I'll throw my axe at your head."

"Duly noted."


Johanna's words keep me buoyant as I muddle through the next couple hours. Mrs. Everdeen and Prim are in with Katniss, so I find myself without a purpose for the first time in months. Katniss is out of the grips of the Capitol, and she's recovering from her injuries. The difference in her condition between the first and second time she woke up, while I was with her, is as striking as night and day. When Haymitch told me she had regained consciousness while I was off in a meeting with Plutarch and Coin about Guardian propos, I got so upset I almost had to be restrained. After that I barely left the infirmary, just in case.

While I technically share a compartment with Haymitch, he and I have never been there at the same time – not once in all the months I've been here in 13. When we first arrived, Haymitch was drying out in the bowels of the district. Once he was turned loose, I was spending most of my unscheduled time in the infirmary with Finnick or filming propos for Plutarch. Haymitch doesn't sleep at night, and I'm expected to be in training during the day. So, when I open the door and find him camped out on his bed and apparently waiting for me, I'm more than a little bit surprised.

"Do I have the right room?" I lean back out into the hallway to check the door number in jest.

"Hardy-har, kid. You're a regular Capitol-grade entertainer," he practically snarls back at me.

I shift my weight back and forth from foot to foot awkwardly when Haymitch doesn't seem too intent on saying anything further that might explain his ill-mood. "That's great about Annie, huh?" I try after a few moments.

He nods. "If anyone deserves a small slice of happiness, it's Odair and Cresta."

"Yup," I agree inelegantly.

He's still quiet. This is officially the most awkward interaction I have ever been a part of. Which is saying something, considering everything that has happened in my life over the last two years.

Suddenly he springs up with deceptive agility. It's of some comfort that he doesn't feel that he has to pull the wool over my eyes, that he's secure enough with me knowing that his uncoordinated antics are occasionally a farce. He's told me before, people only see what they want to see; so, if they want to see a drunk, they will, regardless of how intoxicated he actually is or isn't.

"I need a shower," he declares, his voice clearer than it usually is. He crooks his finger, beckoning me to follow him into the claustrophobic bathroom.

Evidently my mentor has officially lost his mind. "I think it's best if I stay out here, if it's all the same to you, Haymitch," I tell him, barking out a laugh of discomfort.

He lets out a put-upon sigh and crosses his arms. Without saying anything, he indicates for me to follow him by jerking his chin. When I continue to resist, he rolls his eyes and reaches to turn on the shower behind him. "Peeta Mellark, get over here now," he grits out through clenched teeth.

I finally do what I'm told, because I've seen how quick Haymitch can be with that switchblade he keeps in his pocket. I think they were supposed to confiscate it upon our arrival in 13, but I know he either snuck into the armory to retrieve it or simply bribed someone to get it back.

Once I cross the threshold into the humid bathroom, Haymitch reaches around me to slam the door.

"Odds you certainly can be thick, Boy," he spits. "Ain't you supposed to be the smart one of the two of you?"

I don't even bother asking who he's referring to – like everyone else in Panem, he tends to lump Katniss and I together like a matched pair. "So they tell me," I mutter back at him. "Explain to me why I'm joining you in the shower Haymitch."

"Think, Boy."

It comes to me after a few moments. "Bugs?" I whisper, suddenly conscious of my volume.

He nods. "What do you think about what Plutarch said?" he asks me, keeping his arms crossed.

"I think it makes sense," I reply honestly. "It clears up a lot of questions I had about the way things went down during the rescue mission and validates a lot of my concerns about Coin's reluctance to save Katniss and the others. Did you see any of the body cam footage from the Capitol?"

"I did," Haymitch affirms. "You and Katniss were almost left behind, the line formation broke down, you got shot and they didn't wait for you. I saw it the night you all got back." He frowns during his recounting of the events that went down that night in the Capitol; everything that struck me as odd or suspicious in the moment, but so much was going on that I haven't had the chance to think on any of it further. "What we heard today isn't surprising; I think Coin would have let the lot of you die if the opportunity arose during the mission. Then it would have just been me and Beetee, and I'm sure she would have just lifted the ban on booze and hoped I'd drown myself into uselessness." He takes a moment to rub at the scruff that he's left unattended along his jaw. All us victors got hair removal done before the Games; almost eight months on, all the guys' beards finally are starting to grow back. It itches something fierce.

He continues talking at a low murmur, "I honestly don't believe Boggs or Beetee are in on it; I was with Beetee while he was helping to kill the signal so you all could get into the Capitol airspace. He was working his ass off to keep it going. From all the body cam footage I've gone over, Boggs didn't appear to do anything that would have purposefully endangered any of you. It could have been that Coin's plan was just sloppy enough she was hoping something would go wrong and she could wash her hands of us. I don't know, but I don't like it. Keep an eye on Katniss, Coin's going to have it out for her now that she's starting to recover. I'm going to speak with Finnick, get him in the loop."

"Should I talk to Johanna or Enobaria? Beetee?" I ask.

Haymitch waves off my offer. "I'll do it. You're too high-profile. I tend to be overlooked. Watch your back Boy, Coin's going to start looking to collect on her reciprocity anytime now."

I nod in agreement; I'm falling back on instinct now – listen to my mentor, follow his directions, protect Katniss, stay alive.

"Good," he says, clapping my shoulder. "Now get the hell out. As much as I love your company, I really do need to shower, and I'd prefer some privacy."


After leaving Haymitch, I end up back in the hospital to check in on Katniss's condition. I don't delude myself into believing she'll need to see me as soon as she wakes up, but I know I won't be able to relax until I see if she has fully recovered from her panic attack. I stop by the nurses' station, and they tell me that Katniss hasn't woken up yet, but that her heart rate and breathing have normalized. Prim is leaving her room as I arrive, and she reiterates the details of Katniss's condition before she departs to start her hospital rounds.

Katniss is laid out on the same bed, in the same room where I've been visiting her for the last month. Katniss's bruises are slowly fading, and her broken bones are mending well. Her skin is no longer stretched tight against the bones underneath, and I'm told the damage that caused her internal bleeding is healing at an encouraging rate. While her physical condition has improved steadily over time, I agonize over her mental state. Even before her imprisonment in the Capitol, Katniss was plagued by nightmares that would prevent her from getting a full night's sleep; her screams could wake the whole of Victor's Village if the wind blew right. If a few careless comments from Gale could send her into a such a devastating panic, I dread how Coin's anticipated requests will affect her. She'll be poked and prodded by strangers, interrogated about what happened to her and forced to describe how she was tortured. I can imagine Katniss fighting and spitting like a cornered animal when all this goes down. I resolve that no matter what Coin or Snow throws at us, I'll do my best to protect her from that fate.

I take a seat at her bedside, accidently catching my prosthetic on one of the chair legs and sending it skidding across the floor. The sudden noise wakes her, and I can see the sheer terror that takes over her face the second she opens her eyes.

"Hey, hey Katniss - it's just me," I soothe, holding my hands up where she can see them.

After a couple of deep breaths, she whispers, "Peeta?" It looks like she's trying to determine whether or not I'm really here, and I can feel my heart aching for her.

"Yeah, it's Peeta. It's me. We're…," I almost tell her we're safe, but I know that isn't totally true, and I'm disinclined to lie to her. "We're here, together."

"Together," she breathes in agreement.

I remember the first time we said those words to each other, the first time they had a meaning that went beyond the obvious. We fought together for our lives in the Games, and we would die together by our own hands. To the rest of Panem, this was our first stand against the Capitol - the first time the Star-Crossed Lovers from District 12 rebelled. To me, it was the first time I was sure that I meant something to the girl I had loved from afar for most of my life.

"What happened?" she croaks, her voice thick and breaking. I imagine her throat must be strained raw from screaming earlier. I pour her a cup of water from the pitcher at her bedside, and she gulps it down with a wince of discomfort she doesn't bother to hide.

"You were talking with Gale," I endeavor to explain. "I don't know what exactly was said…but you got upset, and they had to sedate you."

Her eyes threaten to overflow with tears, and because I know her, I know that it's due to embarrassment. Katniss hates to show how affected she is by anything, good or bad. My strong stubborn girl, she doesn't deserve this kind of pain.

"Plutarch called it a 'panic attack'…. Evidently, it's a fairly common response to stress and trauma," I attempt to reassure her.

"Plutarch? Plutarch Heavensbee?" her sharp eyes cut to me quickly. Oh right. There's so much I take for granted at this point, and so much of it hasn't been made clear to her.

"Yeah - he's been a part of the Rebellion for years, it's why he volunteered to become Head Gamemaker for the Quell," I clarify. "He was on the hovercraft that pulled me and Finn, along with Beetee, out of the arena. He was with Haymitch…. Honestly, that was the only reason I trusted anything that was happening there at the end."

She cocks her head to the side, "Is that where you gave Haymitch that broken nose you mentioned?"

She's teasing me now. I can tell by the slight arch to her eyebrow that always happens when she's being smart with someone. How does she have it in her to joke about everything that's happened to us? I am in awe of this girl, and I know that regardless of whether Johanna is right or wrong about her feelings for me, I will continue to fall in love with Katniss Everdeen over and over again for the rest of my life.

"Yes," I chuckle, not able to control the smile that takes over my face. "I'm sure I got Finn in the jaw as well. I didn't want to leave you behind."

She nods gently and seems to be taking a moment to choose her next words carefully. "How is Finnick? I haven't seen him, have I?" she asks, an expression of worry crossing her face. I can tell she's uncomfortable with how disconnected she feels from everything going on around her. I understand – it has been over half a year since I arrived in 13 and I still don't feel like I have a handle on this place.

"No," I assure her. "He's visited you a bunch, but you've never been awake for it. Same with everyone else." She raises her eyebrows in question, so I tell her, "Prim and your mother, Gale and the rest of the Hawthornes, Haymitch and Plutarch, Finn, Johanna, Enobaria, Annie…. You're very popular."

"That's because I was asleep," she deadpans.

I laugh quietly but shake my head. "You still don't get it, do you? The effect you have on people?"

She rolls her eyes but gives me a sad smile. After a few heavy moments she whispers, "You forgot someone."

"I did?" I run through the list of visitors who I had to navigate around over the last few weeks. I can't think of anyone else.

"You always forget the most important person, Peeta. You. You were with me, I heard your voice the most, I think."

"I was here," I tell her. "But -"

She cuts me off, unforgiving as always. "I told you before Peeta Mellark – I need you. I do. I always have. You are important, you matter. To me you are…." She pauses, dropping her eyes to her lap. "Look, I never wanted any of this. All I ever wanted was to save Prim, and to keep you alive. But I realized something when I was in the Capitol - while I was being tortured by Snow." She sets her shoulders back with obvious determination and meets my gaze. "There's a reason why I have only ever wanted those two things - to save you and Prim. You were with me, in my heart, when I was locked in that cage. It was your voice I heard, telling me to stay strong whenever I was hurt. It was knowing that you were out of Snow's reach that kept me sane. I have always needed you, ever since we were eleven and you saved my life. You stayed with me. Always." Her breath stutters and then, "I know you may not feel the way you used to; I barely feel like a person anymore. But maybe…I just…I feel…. I'm not good at words…."

While she's been talking, I swear my breathing has only gotten louder; the ringing in my ears is reaching a crescendo. I keep pushing back the bit of hope that's trying to worm its way into my heart. I want to hope for her. But I don't know if I can handle it again - if I let myself seize that chance and she doesn't feel the same way. It isn't her fault if she doesn't return my feelings, but I don't know if I have the strength to make sure I won't close her out again if she does not. Her healing doesn't need to be hindered by my pain.

After a moment, I realize she's waiting for me to respond in some way. For a few seconds I am totally frozen, paralyzed by my fear; but I endeavor to strengthen my resolve and even though there is a strong chance her answer will hurt me, I don't think I can resist asking.

"Katniss…do you love me? Is that real?"

She reaches up and runs her small, battered hand along my cheek, digging the tips of her fingers into the scruff on my jaw that's finally started to grow back after all the prep for the Quell. Warm sparks form at every point where her skin touches mine, shooting down into my chest and burrowing deep into my oft-broken heart.

I feel…hope.

Katniss has always given me hope, and for the first time, I don't want to be afraid of what that could mean for me.

"Real. Yes, it's real, Peeta," she whispers.

And for the first time, I bend down and kiss Katniss Everdeen without an audience, and it is the most amazing thing I have ever felt. Her lips are chapped and rough, the sour taste of her breath puffs into my mouth from hers, and her mottled scarred skin has a layer of grease that rubs off on my hand when I cup her face.

But it is real. And it is remarkable.

It is a moment that is entirely ours, in a romance that was built on the back of lies to please the Capitol. We are broken and wounded and so so scared out of our minds, but that just tells me that it's genuine, because the Capitol would never allow for it to be like this – this messy and rough and desperate. Katniss and I and this kiss are everything that I have always hoped for but never expected.

Finally, I pull back, and there's a small grin on her lips that I know is for me alone. "Are you sure?" I ask because I still need permission to trust this.

"Yes," she answers before I'm even able to get all the words out and I can't help the huge smile that overtakes my face. "I've known it for a while, but I didn't think I'd ever get the chance to tell you. I guess I still haven't really…. I just…it's hard…."

"It's alright," I reassure her. I run my hand through her shorn hair and let my fingers get tangled up in it. "If you feel it, I don't need you to say it. This is enough."

This time, she pulls me down to kiss her around our matching smiles. And then I feel it wash over me fully, and I let myself get pulled along with it, taking me away so that I may never return – it's hope.


A/N: Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read One Need Not be a Chamber to be Haunted, to follow/favorite, and to review. I can't reply to guest comments, but I just want to say your words of encouragement are so wonderful and heartwarming!