Authors Note:

Alrighty then! I'm here, you're here – I say we get to it. First chapter was a little experimental; hopefully this one can satiate the hunger for our awesome characters. Per usual I do not own. The lovely Suzanne Collins does. I just want to point out that, yes; this fic will have some adult themes. *Ahem* Like sex…and stuff. Obvs we know the outcome of our characters' lives but its oh so fun expanding on it Oh and for those who may wonder what I write to, Adele has been an amazing muse. Her angst drives my stealthy fingers into overdrive so that I may bring you all Katniss & Peeta lurve. Still looking for a beta. Please review, it'll help me write much much better. Plus I like meh ego stroked – pun intended. Muahaha. xo Mina

I turn around slowly and almost can't quite comprehend what he's doing. I feel myself growing angry and flustered, but before I can get a word out he quietly says, "I picked them – for her. I thought you might like to plant them along with your dandelion garden…"

I bite my lip and nod. "Thank you", I mouth. I don't trust my voice. He sets the wheelbarrow down and walks away.

"Is there anything I can do for you dear, is there anyone I could call?

No and thank you please madam – I ain't lost; just wandering…"

– Adele, Hometown Glory

After Peeta leaves I cannot control the whirlwind of emotions that settle upon me. I feel like I am going to implode. Slowly, cosmically and quite methodically. I don't know if I'm feeling so vulnerable because of Prim – the memory of her so full and radiant of life sends me into silent tears any time I think of it.

I get up from the ground and go over to sit on my front steps. I inhale and exhale deeply, almost afraid to even consider my next words. Or could it be that somehow the old Peeta, the Peeta I knew during our first tour of the games is slowly resurfacing? Something tells me it's a mixture of both. But are you ready to go there?

"I don't know", I answer aloud.

There's a very real side of me that wishes things could somehow be normal for Peeta and I – but there is a much louder voice who reasons that normalcy is impossible. My life story is a testament to that.

The few times I've had the even slightest proximity to him it's like I cannot formulate one coherent thought. The few thoughts that I can actually make sense of wonder if the Peeta that I'm looking at is the old Peeta or if the Capitols Peeta has once again taken control of the boy I was once so – unknowingly – in love with?

I look up at the sky. "I don't know", I say aloud once more.

I'm terrified of getting my hopes up only to be left damaged beyond any comprehensible repair. Because really I'm not quite sure how much more hurting my disfigured heart can take.

I cannot look at Peeta and find that wild veiled look into his eyes again, the mere thought of this sends my pulse racing once more and I put my face between my legs to calm myself down. "Stupid, stupid, stupid…"

"Well I know what you are sweetie, you don't have to go around berating yourself for it", Haymitch says with a smile.

I chuckle as I look down at the earth. "Can I help you with anything today Abernathy? As you can see I'm quite occupied in looking at the ground – very interesting really", I say trying to hide the smile in my words.

"Yeah, yeah. You got any more white liquor stashed? I'm running a little low…"

I look up at him through one eye, "Bottom left corner cabinet in the kitchen… and thanks", I say my town serious now.

This is why I love my dynamic with Haymitch. He knows what I'm saying even if I don't fully explain and spares me the sentimental portion of it in the process. "I knew you'd come back to us", he says matter of factly and with that he walks up the steps, retrieves the liquor and leaves.

The next time I see Peeta it is late at night. I've just awoken from another horrible nightmare to the sound of my own screams.

This one was particularly vivid, I'm with Boggs in his final moments once more and this time I can remember even more vividly every detail – more so than when I actually was there. I look to my left and see one of his legs bloody and charred; he speaks my name trying to regain my attention. But the sounds are so loud. My eardrums feel like they have burst and I can't hear a thing he says, and I'm screaming hysterically now.

"Boggs! BOGGS! Please stay with me just a little longer, I can't lose you too. Please", I sob into his jacket.

Suddenly I'm transported to another dream and here I land fully loaded with my bow and arrow staring right into Peeta's eyes as Cato is strangling him on the Cornucopia in our first games.

"Let. Him. Go," I say my voice hardening with every inflection. Peeta is slowly losing consciousness, his eyes slowly drooping.

"It's your choice, whether lover boy lives or dies", Cato says with sarcasm. "So what's it going to be?"

My arrow answers in response, finding its way into Cato's left orbit as he falls. Peeta staggers back almost being dragged down with him but my arm somehow finds him.

"You saved me", he says coughing.

I reach up to cup his face, "Of course I did."

And then the Cornucopia opens up and swallows us whole...

I wake up screaming, clutching at my bed sheets. In the moonlight I can see my chest heaving from the exertion. It felt so real…

That's when I get up and walk over to my window and I see him pacing in his living room. He looks so sad, and lost. I watch him for a while longer and notice when he slumps to the floor and begins to cry and pull at his hair while he rocks back and forth. He looks like I once did.

Something tugs at my heart and I can't bear to see him like this. I pull on my robe and run down the stairs out through the front door. The grass feels damp under my bare feet as I run with all the strength I can muster toward his home. As I near the porch I clumsily fall twice but don't even bother to look down at my knees that are screaming in pain. He needs me. I bound up his front steps and bang on the door wildly.

After what feels like an eternity Peeta finally opens up the door. Eyes swollen and puffy from crying.

Screw formalities, I think.

I walk into him and embrace him with as much human warmth as I can radiate. He stands still for a while and does nothing. I cry quietly on his shoulders understanding clearly his bewilderment at this gesture. But he returns the hug, and there we stand. An hour elapses or perhaps two, I'm not really sure. His body feels so warm and familiar, his smell just as I remember it.

I revel in all the little things I can see or sense. The way his hand soothingly pats my back or smoothes the hair on the back of my head. Here he is comforting me, when I came to him to show my support at comfort. Eventually our embrace loosens and I finally allow myself to fully take him in. His warm blonde hair and angular jaw line. The slope of his sculpted nose, or the way his eyes crinkle when his smile is genuine.

The person staring back at me with those piercing eyes is no longer the boy I once knew, but he also isn't a complete stranger. We have both been irrevocably changed and no amount of healing can ever fix this fact. And yet I know in my heart of hearts that the Peeta that remains is the one I remember although it will take me a long time to admit this fact aloud.

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "You are so beautiful. I never get tired of looking at you Katniss."

"Peeta please…" I close my eyes and start to protest.

"No Katniss. You need to know how I feel, how I see you." He rubs his thumb to capture a stray tear.

"You loved me once. Real or not real."

I choke a sob back. "Real" I say as I open my eyes to look at him once more.

"Thank you" he whispers into my ear.

I shiver at the contact. "I, I have to go now…"

"Alright. Let me walk you back home at least." I nod in agreement knowing there will be no arguing with him tonight.

The following day I stay in bed for most of the afternoon just thinking. I go back and forth hundreds of times in my mind whether or not the encounter I had with Peeta last night was correct.

I know I'm not in the best emotional state myself never mind being there for another, but I couldn't shake the incessant need to hold him – to calm him and tell him it was all going to be okay. So many things have changed in the last 3 years, and yet that need to keep Peeta safe and secure still remains. No matter as long as I live I am certain that my heart belongs to only one – whether it's mangled or not.

The mere thought brightens my attitude and yet it scares me half to death. I want to take things easy. I just can't barge into Peeta's life and cement myself there selfishly again. He has gone through his fair share of horrors and moving in on him too fast could stunt the progress he's made with sifting through the real memories of me versus the implanted ones from the tracker jackers. He deserves so much more than that.

When I finally decide to get out of bed and get something to eat downstairs, something on my veranda catches my eye. Something square and wrapped in linen? It dawns on me, it must be a painting. I open my front door and retrieve the artwork; on it is a picture of me sleeping on the train, my long hair in a braided mess sprawled on my pillow.

There are no nightmares here. I am peaceful. No fear or pain or even anger can be detected in me and that's because I know Peeta was with me. He is my constant even through the dimensions of misery – he was still there, fighting to get through.

I clutch the painting close to me and bring it inside. Peeta is sending me a message, he recognizes I am afraid for what I feel for him and in the same thought he wants me to know that he is waiting patiently for my return. There is no need for me to endure the past, present or future without him by my side to right me.

He is extending his hand to me – exposing himself in the process, and I understand, I think. He loves me. Unconditionally. He's giving me insight into his heart once more. But we still have so much healing to do and although I am anxious and fearful I fully comprehend now that Peeta is my disease and my curse, my question and also the answer.

There is no greater truth. Real or not real?

Chapter End Notes:

DUN DUN DUN! And there you have it! 2K plus words and Chappy 2 complete. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW. Come on you don't want me to give you the sad eyes do YOU? I really enjoyed writing this chapter! Katniss will just not shut up in my head lol. And Peeta says he wants us to get to the *cough* good stuff. Taking that ever so subtle hint we will be moving along from now. Don't think I'll go over 10 chapters on this fanfic endeavor seeing as how we all know how the story ends up. Reviews get you Peeta/Katniss make up sex even sooooooner :P xo Mina