Disclaimer: Do not own. Credit to Suzanne Collins. Title from Kevin Devine.

"Go be my ghost and I'll go be yours"

The thing about him is that he always caught me by surprise. There was something about him from start. It had to have been his Games the first time I saw him. There was something about his face that I trusted. He looked too gentle to be the arena

. He looked too innocent. He looked like a child.

I had looked like a child.

I had looked innocent.

I was innocent.

He is innocent.

Me.

Him.

For some reason, he is the one I reflect the most on. True, I think of Finnick every time I see our son, and I dream of him every night. But my straying thoughts, the ones that catch me way off guard, are about someone else. They are about Peeta Mellark. Even think his name sounds gentle. Even when I was most afraid of him I thought something would bring him back. I knew he wouldn't stay frightening forever. He is just so, so,

I don't know a word for him. I've always been in awe of him. During his Games, when I couldn't to bear to look, Finnick would update me. He told me how Peeta was in love with the girl from his district. He knew he was trying to save her. Finnick wrapped me in his arms and told me he would do the same. I knew then that this Peeta was special. He was willing do something to save the girl on fire. He was willing to do what Finnick would do for me.

Funny how a boy with the bread loved the girl on fire. People said that she had burned him, but I wasn't sure. When the Quarter Quell came, I was spared. I forced myself to watch. It killed me each time a new horror came across the screen but I forced myself. I had to see it. Finnick was there, my Finnick. But Peeta was there too, and Katniss. I saw Peeta get thrown and it appeared he died and I began to shake. I didn't want to look, but I saw Finnick save Peeta. Then I saw the look on Katniss' face. She didn't want to hurt him. Maybe she did love him back. I could tell she didn't want to hurt Finnick, and for that I was grateful.

I replay this memory at least once a day. I don't know why. It's something about knowing if we lost Peeta, everything would be lost. I never realized that until recently. I had thought about it so often, and I never knew why it stuck out to me. He just had this impact on me from that moment on. So even when I was afraid of him, I thought about it. What he was couldn't be real. It couldn't be real, it just couldn't. Finnick even said he thought Peeta was just hurt for a bit, and that one day maybe he would be better. But Finnick doesn't know all the things that happened. I'm not even sure what happened to Peeta. It must have been worse to make him so angry now. So that is why I try to remember him on the beach. I remember him dying, then waking. I remember watching Katniss cry which made me realize how special this boy was. It made me realize maybe he was the best out of all of us.

But sometimes when I reflect on this memory, I am reminded of another moment. It was when I was growing afraid of him. It was when I began to lose hope that innocent face was only a mask. I was beginning to worry he was not as innocent as I wanted him to be. I was frightened. I was terrified of what could have happened to this boy. I knew I wanted to see him.

I saw him after the wedding. It was the day after I found out he made my cake. It was the day after Johanna joked that they knew each other's screams. I hated that. I hated that I now had faces to the screams I heard. I had heard a boy screaming at night when they finally left me alone. I guess that was him. I guess that was Johanna screaming too. I hated that she reminded me of those times. I thought I would be able to get past that. Maybe not soon, but someday. I thought that now that I was with Finnick, and that we were married, things would start falling in to place. I had enough reminding of what I saw, and what I heard. I did not want or need Johanna Mason reminding me. But she did. Now I wanted to talk to someone who had suffered so much, but was able to create something so beautiful for me.

Finnick said he had training and with a kiss he went off. It had not been an easy night for me. I tossed and turned with of memories of the Capitol. When I did sleep, I dreamt of meeting with Peeta. Sometimes he was calm in my dreams, sometimes he was anything but. As I made my way to his ward, I became nervous at what reaction I would get. I was stopped by a few guards. They seemed nervous that a girl with wild hair and sunken eyes was looking for another broken soul. They shouldn't be. They seem to have him under lock and key. I'm not sure what kind of threat they see me as. If they even see me as anything but mad, little girl.

I came to his room and I waited for a guard to press the code and let me in. Peeta sat on his rackety bed. He was hunched over his crossed legs, I think he was painting something. I noticed that he had a restraint on his arm. At this moment though, he looked like he didn't need them. He looked calm. He was looking so intently at whatever he was painting. I began to feel foolish standing there. I wanted to leave him in peace, not drive him to pieces.

"Peeta, there's someone here for you." One of the guards says finally. He didn't look up immediately, but when, he did his eyes met mine. He seemed to be searching my face for something. He didn't seem angry to see me. He didn't seem any kind of emotion.

"Hello Annie, what can I do for you?" he murmured. He folded his hands and continued looking at me. I bit my lip. I felt nervous now. I wished I had told Finnick I was here. He would be able to thank Peeta better than I could, even if their last exchange wasn't completely friendly. I tried not to think of their awkward exchange when we left lunch yesterday. It reminded me of too much. At this point I realized I had been standing here for a bit and not said anything. When he gathered my silence he spoke again.

"I'm happy I made that cake for you. It wasn't my best work, but I hoped you liked it."

It was an odd sentence to start with. He said it directly like he wanted to move the conversation along. But he sounded honest. He sounded like he was glad to have helped us. I believed him. I believed that he wanted to give us something special.

"Thank you Peeta. I am so, very. I mean really grateful." I stuttered out. I was getting more nervous now, and I wasn't sure why. He didn't seem angered or bothered by my presence. I just didn't feel right with him yet. I felt like maybe he was good person still. But something about him seemed so dark. I think that's why I was nervous. I did want to thank him. I really did. I also wanted to see his face. I wanted to see the kind look in his eyes when I first saw him on television last year. When he looked at me it was not cold, it was not judging. He just seemed empty. He seemed almost as though he expected to see me today and he was satisfied to see he was correct, not satisfied to talk with me. I wanted to talk though.

"What are you doing?" I blurted out, asking the first boring thing I could think of.

"Painting one of the bowls from my breakfast. They had some paints left over, and I got special permission. They thought it would prevent me hurting someone" he said bluntly.

"Can I see it?"

He nodded and held up the cup. I saw he painted vines with bright flowers along them. I didn't know what kind they were.

"What kind of flowers are they?" I asked. I didn't even know if they were real.

"Their called evening primrose. It grows along the meadows in District Twelve" He answered quietly. He put the bowl down sharply against his leg. He didn't seem to notice.

Primrose. Primrose. I knew that name. Did I know that name? I tried to match up a face to it. When I realized it was Katniss' sister I smiled. I don't know why but I smiled. Finnick told me how much Peeta loved Katniss. I had seen how much Peeta loved Katniss.

Had loved

Loves

Still loves.

Why else would he be painting a flower called primrose? He created other beautiful flowers for my wedding. He could have picked anything else. He had to be thinking of Katniss right now. Obsessing over her in some way. I understood. I had done similar things in my life. He picked a flower he could associate with her in a non-threatening way. A flower that because it was her sister's namesake could be associated with her. If he thought about her while he did something that he loved, maybe it would make him happy. Maybe it would give him something pleasant to associate her with.

"What are you thinking about?" he said loudly. His voice was even, but he searched my face for an answer. I couldn't fully snap out of my daze, but I answered him.

"Katniss. I'm thinking about Katniss." I said absentmindedly.

I regretted it almost as soon as I said it. I expected to hear him leap from the bed and strangle me as I heard he strangled her. I had my eyes closed and waited for the blow.

"I'm not angry Annie." He said, sounding almost bored. "I'm thinking about her too. I think about her every day, pretty much all day."

I opened my eyes and looked at him. He looked defeated. He looked very old in that moment.

"I don't know what to think of her. I don't know what to believe. " He continued, picking up the bowl and beginning to paint again. I pondered what he said for a few seconds. "I mean let's face it. She's not here right now, is she?" He stopped again and looked up at me waiting for me response. I didn't know what to say so I just shook my head.

"Exactly. But you are." He added softly, almost as an afterthought.

"I wanted to thank you." I said. I had told him that didn't I? He chuckled after I said that and shook his head.

"I think you wanted to see for yourself what I was like." He asked. He didn't sound accusing. He didn't even sound angry. I wondered if they gave him sedatives before I came. He only sounded defeated, and maybe a bit curious at my random appearance. I was speechless again before him, so I nodded.

"Maybe I was curious. I'm sorry. I'll just leave. I didn't want to cause you any trouble!" I began to turn around but he called out for me. I was getting scared now, and I let out a nervous laugh. Turning around and facing him I saw his faint smile.

"I remember your Games Annie." I brought my hands to cover my mouth. I felt as though I would scream. He didn't seem to notice and he kept talking. "I know they call you crazy. May be you are. Maybe we all are. The point is, now I'm the one on lockdown. People watch my every move like I'm going to crack." He sighed. "I'm sorry Annie."

I shook my head again, trying to register what he said.

"I don't know what you mean. Why?" I asked.

"Because you were the mad girl. No one saw the real you. No one but Finnick treated you as a real person. Look at me now. No one talks to me. Not really. Delly comes and goes. I think Plutarch has her trying to convince me that Katniss isn't all bad. I don't know anymore. It's just nice to see a friend. I just hope it's real" He ended simply. He looked sad now. I understood better than anyone what he was feeling. Most days I wasn't sure what was real or what wasn't. I needed someone to remind me. I needed a friend, and now Peeta needed a friend. I promised I would be there for him, and we would help each other.

I don't remember what we talked about for the remainder of the visit. I think it was mainly about general topics on my wedding. When I left, I felt reassured. I felt I had caught a glimpse of the innocent boy I had seen before. I had a shred of hope again he would come back.

Now its years later. Every now and then I hear from Peeta. Sometimes it's a letter. Sometimes it's a phone call. Many of the times Katniss will be there and we'll talk. I always appreciate the two of them asking about me, and Jonah, and asking whether I will ever want to see the hills of District Twelve. I know they care. I know Peeta cares. Even when the light seemed the dimmest in his eyes, I knew he was still down there somewhere. Even when it seemed he was at his worst, I saw the light in him.

I saw it in him because we were the same. We are the same. We have our quiet strength that saved us, but we have so much more than that.

We have our friends and each other.