A/N: SO sorry for the wait! Honestly, I almost completely forgot about this fic. It won't happen again, I assure you - I'm too involved in the plot now! (you jump, I jump, right?) sorry, I couldn't help quoting Titanic!

Anyways, this was a really emotional chapter to write. And to "ILOVETARARIEGAN," thanks for reminding me. I wonder, who has memory problems? Peeta or me? But seriously, thanks! And I hope you like it!

"Huh?" I'm not really thinking straight. Panic is threatening to overwhelm me, and the feeling doesn't allow for the forming of words. What's he talking about?

"Who are you?"

His voice isn't upset or sad. I search his face for the hint of a smile, some clue that he's joking. But there's nothing but a vague confusion, the same as in his tone.

"Peeta, it's me! It's me, I'm Katniss!" My words have no visible effect on him. "Come on, please! You have to remember!" I can't help pleading with him, as though it will make a difference. He's obviously not remembering, so I say the one thing that might make a difference. "Peeta, you love me!"

He takes me in his arms, so tightly but at the same time not tightly enough, and kisses me with undisguised passion. "Katniss," he murmurs in my ear. "Katniss, it's okay. I'll never leave again."

I open my eyes and see him just where he was, more confused than ever. His wonderful, beautiful words echo in my ears even as I realize that he hasn't said them.

"I do?" He shakes his head as if to clear it, blinking spasmodically. Looking at me, I see a depth of guilt in his eyes. "I'm really sorry… Katniss, isn't it? I'm sorry, but I don't know what's going on."

Haymitch is beside me, and with the turmoil in my heart, he could have been there for hours without my noticing it. He leans forward now, his voice ragged. "Do you remember me?"

Peeta takes longer to answer this time. He scrutinizes his former mentor's face, every detail. Then he finally shakes his head. "No. I don't."

Haymitch withdraws as if he's been slapped, leaving the room in what can only be the pursuit of alcohol, which is nonexistent in Thirteen. I try a different tactic.

"Peeta," I begin, and he listens. "You were in the Hunger Games with me. You joined the Careers, and then you allied with me instead. We won, Peeta, we won!"

"What are the Hunger Games? And… Careers?"

He doesn't remember anything. Nothing at all about his past or the people around him. I shake my head. "Never mind." I'm holding onto a slim, impossible hope that he remembers himself. "Who are you, Peeta?"

"I'm…" He's thinking very hard, his brow wrinkling in concentration. His eyes squeeze shut. I wait in feverish anticipation for his response. A minute passes, and then another. After what feels like an eternity, he looks at me. "I'm Peeta, I think. And… I don't know anything else."

I hunch in on myself, leaning against his bed, unable to muster hope or energy enough to move. I don't understand why this is happening, and apparently Peeta's just as bewildered if not more. He's repeating, in ever-increasing panic, "Who am I?"

I can't let him continue like this. With more willpower than I ever knew I possessed, I turn to him. "You lived in District 12. You're seventeen years old. You've loved me since we were five, you saved me from starving when we were eleven. We were in the Hunger Games twice and we won the first time, but the second time you were captured and—"

"Katniss!" His voice is strained and filled with horror. I look into his blue eyes, hoping to see recognition. I do, and relief surges within me, only to be washed away as he continues. "I remember your name, it's familiar – when I was… somewhere else, I'm not sure exactly – the people there talked about you and they said – they said – what's the date today?" He's asking me the question, not quoting whoever "they" are.

"September 13th," I answer uncertainly, startled.

"Oh no." He's more worried than ever. "Katniss, they said they'd kill you!"

"It's not really a big deal anymore," I tell him. "My life's been on the line for a few years. Calm down."

"No, no, I mean they're going to kill everyone! They said, 'Katniss Everdeen and the rest of her rebel brood, the sun will shine on their corpses on the dawn of September 14th!'"

Apparently President Coin's been standing behind me for quite some time, because now she asks in a powerful voice that commands an answer, "Do you know anything else? Anything at all?"

"I-I don't think so, no," Peeta admits, and then I'm yanked to my feet. I turn and see Boggs with an iron grip on my wrist. I swing my other fist toward his face but, anticipating this, he grabs it as well and tows me towards the door.

"Peeta!" I scream, losing it completely now. "Peeta!" In the hall, the door slams shut and the lock clicks with an awful finality. I sink down and wrap my arms around my knees, pulling them up to my chest. Sobbing. There are gentler hands on me now, rubbing my back in that forever-comforting way.

"Katniss, it's going to be all right." Prim's voice. I look up and her blue eyes are right there, only now they send me further into hysteria. "It'll be okay. Just breathe." I follow her advice and though I continue heaving with body-wracking sobs, I no longer scream.

I don't know how long I sat there, my heart draining away with every bucketful of tears. I know that eventually Prim helps me to my feet and we are driven downwards by the horrible sirens, down flight after flight of stairs.

We find our bunk, labeled E. I sit on the thin mattress and continue with my despair, unsure as to why I'm so broken. I don't love Peeta. That was his job – to love me with every fiber of his being. But I think that there's a part of me that couldn't help loving him back. And now that he's irretrievable, I finally understand the word "heartbroken."

I don't know what it would have done to Gale, and I don't know how I would have reacted. But I would like nothing better than if he'd kissed me.

A/N: I feel like I should explain something here. When Peeta says "I'm sorry," remember that he's still a morally good person and feels guilty for making Katniss so upset. Just because he lost his memory doesn't mean he's reduced to a little-kid mind. And when he warns her about the "they're gonna kill you" bit, he's being morally good again. He doesn't know who Katniss really is, or who said she was going to die, but he knows that she's in danger and he wants to stop it. Because he's a morally good person.

On another note, that last sentence actually was in my head when I woke up this morning. It bugged me to no end and I knew I had to put it in a story, but I didn't know which one. Finally I realized just how PERFECTLY it fit here! And while we're talking about waking up - sleeping - I had about fifty dreams about Peeta last night. Don't ask me why. And I can't remember any of them.

Does the fact that I woke up with that line give anything away about me? I think so.

Whatever. Please R&R!