Ruth and Maya accompany us to the train station, along with Finnick and Annie. We say our goodbyes. Ruth isn't able to articulate what she wants to say, but I see her gratitude in her eyes, in the way she smiles at Maya.

"Thank you," she whispers to me. I kneel down to Maya and tussle her hair. She squirms, but then she shoots forward and wraps her arms around my neck.

Finnick and Annie arrive late and almost miss the train departure.

"I swear, I don't know how anyone shows up on time to anything with a newborn," Finnick grins, taking baby Jo from his wife and cuddling him in his arms. Peeta squeezes Annie tight, the anxiety of being away from her creeping up on him again.

"Call every day," she says, and he nods into her mane of red hair.

Finnick hands the infant to my mom and wraps his arms around my waist, lifting my feet off the ground for a moment. "Maybe I'll show up in Twelve and surprise you," he whispers. I smile. When we finally let go, Finnick takes Jo from my mother and I take a look at what we've built here. Annie weaves her fingers in Finnick's hand, leaning her head on his shoulder as Jo grabs her hair and knots it in his fist. Maya waves with one hand, her sketchbook tightly clasped in the other. Ruth stands with a new confidence I didn't see in 13. It feels… right.

The three of us turn to board the train.

"Wait," my mother says, her hand on the rail. I look at her questioningly. "I–" She clears her throat and looks up. "I want to stay." A pit opens in my stomach. My mom wants to stay. It makes sense. Her life is here. The hospital. Her friends. The only thing for her in 12 is… me. I try to bury the hurt but I can feel it in my eyes, betraying me. I look at her. She doesn't find comfort in the pieces of Prim I cling to. Twelve isn't her home anymore. For her it's agony.

"Okay," I say, although it feels more like breathing than speaking. The conductor rings the bell, meaning get on or get off. We don't even have time for a goodbye. My mother grabs my hand and steps back on the platform.

"I love you," she says, but the train starts moving and our hands break apart. I watch her get smaller and smaller until I realize the words never left my mouth. I love you too.

I turn from the door and walk to my room. Peeta follows me in silence until we enter the compartment and I slam the door.

"Do you want space?" he asks gently.

"No I don't want space!" I nearly yell, and I realize I'm seething with anger. I can't contain it. I pace furiously. Peeta sits quietly. I don't want him to try to placate me, and he knows it. He lets me rage until I run out of fumes, and finally I drop to the ground and sob. The angers slips out of me but the grief is unwelcome. It's not like the other times I've cried, when I tried not to. When I tried to feel nothing at all. This feeling of loss, of abandonment, overtakes me. I rock on my knees. Peeta sits beside me and strokes my hair. He gets a cold washcloth and cleans my face. He stays until I'm quiet.

"Why is it she never wants me?" I ask. I sound like a little kid. I sound pathetic.

"That's not it, Katniss," he says, scratching my back. I scowl and turn away from him.

"I don't care anymore," I say, wiping the tears from my eyes. "She hasn't been my mom in a long time. I haven't needed a mom in a long time." It would sound more convincing if my eyes weren't red and puffy. I'm a mess.

"I want you," he says, his voice low. "And so does Rory. And Haymitch. And Rye. And even Delly."

"Great," I hiccup sarcastically, and Peeta chuckles. I wipe my face and force myself up off the floor.

We spend the afternoon and early evening distracting ourselves from those we left in District 4. I find a book in the study and plant myself in the last car, reading. Peeta draws in his sketchpad, although I catch him dozing to sleep much of the afternoon. We make dinner. We settle into our compartment for the night. I spend too long in the shower. I realize that when it's wet, my hair is finally skimming my shoulders. I run a towel over my wet locks and brush my teeth. Peeta's sitting on the toilet lid, making an adjustment on his leg. He catches me staring.

"Done," I say, and he smiles and gets up to brush his teeth. As he passes me he brushes my hand quickly with his, and I realize this is the best part of us. The boring part. The monotony. The routine. Being with Peeta is comfortable. I lean on the frame of the door and watch as he spits toothpaste in the sink. He looks up at me with a half smile.

"What are you doing?" he asks.

"Watching you," I answer.

"Yeah?" he asks, joining me in the door frame. He leans forward and kisses me sweetly, my back pressed against the door. "Bed?"

I nod.

The train ride takes a couple days. We spend time just the two of us. Talking, drawing. My head in his lap, his hands in my hair. The closer we get to home, the more at ease I feel. When the train arrives Rory is waiting in the station. It's cold in District 12. The sharp bite of air hits us when we leave the train, and I catch Peeta pull his collar up around his neck. We're both so sensitive to cold after the explosion. When the flames licked our skin with heat, we somehow lost the ability to stay warm. Rory doesn't notice and immediately starts rambling on about hunting plans. He grabs one of our bags and walks us up to the village.

"Hi Rory," a girl says as we pass her, a smile wide across her face.

"Oh, hey," Rory replies with a voice a little deeper than it normally is. He avoids her eyes as she blinks at him before continuing on her way.

"Rory Hawthorne, who is that?" I tease, looking over my shoulder, although I know immediately who she is. She's a transplant from District 7. The girl is very pretty. She has orangey-red hair and a nose peppered with freckles. Her skin is pale and her eyes are a mossy green. There aren't a lot of non-12 natives living here, but there are some and they stick out like a sore thumb. I met her dad at the worksite. He looks just like her, although his red curly hair is cropped short. The first time I saw him he reminded me so much of Darius it made my chest ache, but that faded the second he opened his mouth. His District 7 accent is thick. Johanna's accent was pretty much absent, but came out whenever she was drunk or high. I listened to the man's story. They fled from the forest fires in District 7 when Snow set the woods ablaze. They lost their home, the rest of their family. They wanted to start over.

"Thought I'd be useful here," he said, expertly fitting two pieces of a wooden frame. "I just want to feel useful again, you know?"

I do know.

Rory watches the orange-haired girl until she disappears around a corner.

"It's no one," he stammers, his olive skin blushed.

"That's not Gideon Wicker's daughter?"

"Is it?" he asks, picking up his pace to our house. Peeta and I exchange a knowing smile.

When we reach Victor's Village Rory drags the suitcase toward my house, but I grab his shoulder and nod my head toward Peeta's. It's Peeta's house that feels like home. It's Peeta's house I want to wake up in. Peeta's has become ours.

"Oh, is your mom gonna have the old house all to herself now?" Rory asks. Peeta gives me a careful look, but I've built another wall. I'm not going to let it hurt me anymore.

"My mother's not coming back. She stayed in Four," I say nonchalantly, as if it didn't wreck my world.

"Oh, that's too bad," Rory replies, taking my casual lead. He knows though. He sees through me the way his brother once did. "Anyways, dinner tonight at our house. Mom made you a welcome back meal."

"Oh really?" I ask.

"Yes. Because I got a turkey in the woods this morning and we're going to need some help eating it," he boasts. Rory leaps off the steps and heads toward home. I look around the village. I can hear honking coming from Haymitch's yard. He's yelling at one of the geese from inside the house. I notice a melodic dinging in the air and find wind chimes hanging on his porch. They draw my attention and I catch a flash of silk curtains in his window.

"Haymitch, please! Your deafening bellow is worse than the geese! Inside voice!" I hear Effie snip at him as she steps out the front door and throws a handful of peas into the yard. The geese quiet their honking and flutter around, pecking for food.

"Welcome home," Peeta says, kissing my check and catching the edge of my smile.

Home.

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter. I'm mostly done the next one already so it should be up very soon. Also... I don't know if I have any other Karamel shippers out there, but if I do – what the flying fuck?! I want to throw my TV out the window. Sorry, needed somewhere to rant where people would appreciate my pain. LOL.