Sorry it took me so long to post a new chapter, I was sick for the last few weeks.

Peeta was in his kitchen, he was grabbing supplied out, to make cookies, when he heard a soft knock on his door. He debated answering it, he wasn't sure her wanted to see anyone today. He wasn't sure he was ready to face the world after yesterday.

When he heard the faint knock again, he decided that he better answer it. He slowly walked to the front door of his door, bracing himself for whomever was on the other side of the door. He took a deep breath, before opening the door to a smiling Prim. He remembered the days he use to be as carefree as her, where he looked as the greater things that the world had to offer. "Hey Prim, how may I help you today?"

"Well my mom sent over this casserole. She's worried that your not eating anything but baked goods," she giggled.

"She does know that my father taught me to cook, right?" he laughed. From a young age he had been interested in cooking, baking and decorating, and his father had been happy to show him. None of his brothers cared to really learn the family business. He had always hoped to inherit this business, but now that he was a Victor, that wasn't going to happen. Though it was nice to have all the money in the world, and a nice big house, he had other dreams for his life.

"I think she just likes to do it because you always bring us bread, and other goodies."

"Well please thank her for me. I really do appreciated it." He thought it was nice to know that at least someone cared if he was eating properly, he knew he wouldn't ever get that out of his mother. She hadn't once asked how he was doing after everything, or come over to his new place. Didn't she realize what the games have done to him? This is the time she needed him the most.

"So what you doing?"

"I'm just starting to bake some sugar cookies."

"Those are my favourite cookies," she smiled. "Well I guess I should head back home," she said as she began to walk towards the door.

Then he got an idea in his head, "Would you like me to show you how to make them?" It would be nice not to be alone for a change, to have someone to talk to. He always found it so easy to talk with Prim, he considered her like a little sister to him.

Her eyes widened, "I would love to!" He smiled watching her reaction. He knew that he had just made her day. He remembered Katniss had told him that Prim would make her stop at the Bakery window everyday to look at the goodies.

Prim followed him into the kitchen. Peeta grabbed the extra apron off of the back of the door to the pantry. "Here you will need this. Baking sometimes can get rather messy. Why don't you call your mom to let her know that your staying here, while I finish getting out the rest of the supplies." He didn't want her mom to be worried when she didn't return home from his place right away.

"Okay." strolling over to his phone in the living room.

Peeta took off his sweater, and put on his apron, forgetting that he had a bandage he was trying to cover away. He was so happy to have someone around, that he forgot about the mess that occurred last night.

Prim came back into the kitchen, "What happened to you Peeta?" pointing at his arm.

Peeta stood there for a moment, frozen, trying to think what lie he could make up that would seem plausible. The last thing he wanted was for her to know how he actually got it. He knew if she knew she would tell her family, and promised himself it was a one time thing. The last thing he wanted was for Katniss to find new reasons to avoid him, to hate him. "I was cleaning up glass last night when I accidentally skimmed it across my arm. It's just a cut on the surface, nothing serious."

"Well make sure that if it doesn't heal that you come see my mom. We would hate for you to get a bad infection."

"I will." He chose to change the subject, and get back to the task at hand. "Well the first thing we want to do is cream the sugar and butter together."

Prim put the butter & sugar into the bowl, and began to blend them together. Peeta looked down at her, to see a big smile on her face. He knew he shouldn't ask, but he needed to know, "Prim, how's Katniss been handling things since she got home?"

He notices the hesitation the little girl had, and he wasn't sure that she was going to tell him at first, "It's been rough for her. She wakes up most nights screaming." He could hear her in the middle of the night screaming, it took everything in him not to run to her house, and help her. Besides Haymitch, he was the only one that knew what she was going through. Only one that knew the terror of the nightmares she has. "I try to help her, but she won't let me in on what she's going through. I think she's trying to protect me from it all."

"She loves you very much," he smiled. If he knew one thing about Katniss, it was that Prim was her world. Everything she had done since her father died was for Prim. She was the reason she fought through the games, and didn't give up. He handed Prim 2 eggs and some vanilla to stir into the bowl next.

"Gale was wrong what he said last night," Prim spoke up.

Surprised that she was bringing up last night. He took a deep breath, trying not to let those words affect him again. He didn't want to cry, and breakdown with Katniss's little sister here. He needed to be strong, and the be the guy that everyone always loved. The guy that was willing to go into the games and die if it meant that Katniss came home to her family. "What do you mean?"

"Katniss doesn't hate you. She actually cares about you."

He shook his head, "You're real sweet Prim to say so, but we both know that isn't true."

Prim stopped stirring the ingredients, and looked at him, "You're wrong Peeta. Katniss cares about you, she's just not in a good place right now. And she's not necessary good with people either." He knew that very well, he had witness that during their time in the Capital. That's why he had made a plan with Haymitch to make her look more desirable so that they would love her. So that Sponsor would want to give money to help her.

"Prim she doesn't care. She darts away whenever I'm around," he said looking down at his hands. He had come to the realization last night that nothing he did was going to make her care. He had to get over the notation of the two of them because it was killing him.

She put her hand over top of his hand, "She's just scared. She thinks that if she admits to caring for you, it means that she's allowing the Capital to control her. But don't ever think she doesn't care. I've caught her on more then one occasion staring at your house. I know she wants to come see you. Just give her time."

Peeta walked with Prim out his door, onto his front deck, "Thank you for spending the afternoon with me," he said as he handed over the plate of cookies. She had spent the whole afternoon with had baked cookies, and then he taught her a few techniques on how to decorate cookies.

"Really the pleasure was all mine. I really do appreciate you showing me how to decorate the cookies with a primrose."

"Well maybe next time I'll show you how to make cheese buns."

"I would really like that," she smiled.

They were soon interrupted by Katniss who was just walking by his home, "Prim what are you doing here?" Peeta stood there quite offend by her comment, was there something wrong for with her sister coming over? Was it so bad for her to be anywhere near him?

"I was helping him bake & decorate cookies."

"You really shouldn't be bugging Peeta, I sure his time is better needed at the bakery with his family." He knew she was trying to be nice because he was right there, he's sure she would be a little more harsh with her, if he wasn't standing right there. He wasn't just going to stand there as she got mad at Prim. "She wasn't bugging me. She brought over the casserole, your mom made me, and I invited her to help out."

"You really didn't have to do that." She had that face again, as if she was thinking of how much she owed to him. Why couldn't she get it through her head that he's never wanted to be repaid for his good deeds. He did it out of the kindness of his heart.

"I wanted to. I enjoyed her company."

"I see. Come on Prim, we need to go home for dinner."

"Bye Peeta, thanks again."

"Bye Prim, By Katniss," he said as he waved to them as they walked away. He was sad when Katniss didn't even say goodbye, he was surprised when she looked back, but the moment she noticed that he saw, she quickly turned her head.

Could Prim really be right, he smiled to himself, Did Katniss really care more then she had let on? She had just given him hope.

Peeta was running in the forest, running from the mutt that was chasing him. His leg was making it harder to run any faster. He looks back to see how far back the mutt was. As he turns back, he trips over a root from a tree that is stick up from the damp ground. He falls right onto his knees. He tries to get up, but something is holding him down.

Cato is holding onto his arms, "You tried to trick us, so you must watch us kill the girl you love."

Peeta tries to break out of his hold, but fails. Glimmer brings forth Katniss, holding a knife to her neck. She slit her neck , and then lets Katniss go. Leaving her to fall to the ground.

Cato lets Peeta go, before running off. Peeta runs over to Katniss, grabbing her into his arms. He tries to stop the bleeding but he's too late. He cries as he cradles her in his arms.

Someone walks up to them, "This is all your fault, she's dead because of you." He recognized the voice, but he couldn't bring himself to look at Gale. "I didn't mean for this to happen, I wanted her to live, to go home to Prim."

"No one will ever forgive you for this," he whispered in his ear. "Her mom, Prim. They will hate you."

"No…,"he cried.

Peeta jolted up. Sweat was pouring down his face. He was heart was racing. He didn't want to sleep anymore. He kept on dreaming of them losing Katniss in the Hunger Games. The thought frightened him.

He slowly walked out of her room, and down the hall to the room that he now used to do his art. He sat down on his stool, in front of his canvass, and grabbed his paint brush. He let his hand guide him what to paint. He found that painting was the best way to deal with his nightmares that pledged him nightly.