Chapter 3

He gives me a peck on the cheek. It sends chills down my spine and I can tell I'm blushing. This is his first real display of affection for me since I can remember. It almost feels like he's come back to me, though I know he'll never be the old Peeta again. I reckon that holding me through my nightmares a couple times since his return is just an old habit, but this is something new. He's glowing and I follow him with my eyes as he leaves the room with his newfound recipe book.

I sit on the floor contemplating the paintings one more time, truly thankful they're here. Peeta's own talent will be the key to his recovery, I am sure of it. I get myself over to the kitchen where Peeta is setting up for baking.

He carefully rinses and removes the stems from the blueberries and sits them on a large bowl that is already filled with a light brown concoction. It's mix of sugar and cinnamon, I can tell by the smell. Then he moves on to the crust. He carefully works a crumbly mixture into a disc of dough. I've seen him bake multiple times without ever truly paying attention to how magical it is. While his eyes display the focus he tends to show when he's painting, his hands are more relaxed and comfortable, as if he could easily do this without thinking. I could sit here all day if it wasn't for my appointment with Dr. Aurelius. I ask Peeta if I could use the phone in his study and he nods.

"Oh, good afternoon, Mr. Mellark. I wasn't expecting your call today." I think Dr. Aurelius must have one of those caller identification systems.

"No, Dr. Aurelius. It's Katniss here. This is just Peeta's phone," I explain.

"Well, Miss Everdeen. Nice to hear from you. What's wrong with your phone?" I want to tell him nothing, but I mumble that the line's been mute and he tells me he'll see if someone can fix it. I don't know why I have the impression he doesn't want me spending time at Peeta's.

"So how have you been?" he continues.

"Ok." I really don't know what else to add. It's not like I was ever talkative around him. It's not like I was ever talkative, period.

"I'll need more than that if I'll be able to help you. Have you been hunting?" he asks.

"Not really. I picked some berries and herbs today though."

"That's good. It's a beginning. It's important for you to try to get back into your old habits. They'll regain meaning little by little. Anything else you'd like to tell me?" I suspect he does want to know what I'm doing at Peeta's. I feel somewhat guilty for ignoring his instructions and leading Peeta straight to the paintings this morning, though I don't regret doing it.

"Peeta found an old recipe book so he's baking a pie with the blueberries I picked."

"Good. Any, hm... confrontational situations?" Does he think Peeta still has some anger stored in him? I wonder why he would let Peeta come back if he believes he could be violent again.

"No. He looks very recovered to me. Well, except for his memories."

"Those will take time. Some will never return. He's a breakthrough example of recovery, but both the hijacking and the treatment for it have been tough on his brain."

"He'll never be one hundred percent back to his old self," I think out loud.

"I'm afraid not, Miss Everdeen. I believe he will be fine, even though he might not be exactly how you remember him. Just the fact that he's not filled with hatred and anger anymore, that's certainly something to celebrate." He sounds pleased with himself and goes on after a small pause. "Still, no other incidents?"

How stupid of me. I'm the one with murderous tendencies here, not Peeta. I tell him not to worry since I feel I can't even shoot a squirrel anymore. At least for the time being. He sounds relieved and moves on to a few questions about my routine. He seems to know more than what I tell him. I suppose he's the one Greasy Sae reports to. He finally dismisses me and asks me to remind Peeta of his own appointment in two days. What a pair of damaged goods we are.

Peeta has just put the pie in the oven when I return to the kitchen. He's adding notes to the book and doesn't notice my presence. "What are you doing?" I ask.

"Just some tweaking. I added some lemon zest but I would like to try it with some mint next time as well."

"I can arrange that."

Gather mint for Peeta. I can handle that. One motion at a time. Peeta scribbles something else on the book and puts it aside. I can tell by the timer we have to wait about fifty more minutes for the pie. I have no idea what to do with the time, so I just sit there waiting for Peeta to break the silence. He doesn't. He just stares at me instead, making me very uncomfortable. Finally, I blurt out.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking at you," he replies matter-of-factly.

It irritates me and I almost feel like leaving. His gaze still has the effect of making me defensive and I don't know why. He must notice this because he grabs a chair between the door and me.

"I'm just going over what I remember about you; at least, what I'm sure I remember." His voice sounds defeated.

I think back to what Dr. Aurelius said. They have been tough on his brain. I guess forgetting recipes is the least of Peeta's worries. He seems so much healthier and in control than me, though he could be fighting demons bigger than my own.

"Peeta, what happened after I shot Coin? What happened to you?"

"I was taken to the emergency room to get bandages on my hand. I had no idea your teeth were that sharp," he grins at me.

I look over to his hand and see no other scars in addition to his burn marks. At least I didn't make it worse. This is the first time I think about how Peeta saved my life once more, risking an injury to keep the nightlock pill away from me. I don't remember exactly how much time went by between the explosion and Snow's execution day, but I know something happened to Peeta in the burn unit. If not, how can I explain him going from begging me for a violet pill before the City Circle to stopping me from using the same method to escape?

"Why did you do it, Peeta?"

"Jumped in front of you? It's funny because I wasn't even sure your Mockingjay suit hid a pill as well. But in case it did, I wasn't going to let you take it."

"Why not? I gave you one," I ask him.

"Only because I begged you and because you knew that, in the state I was in, it was probably better if I died anyway."

"No, it wasn't."

I think back to how I considered killing Peeta multiple times on that mission. Sometimes at his request, sometimes because of what he represented. I'm so tired, Katniss. These words from Peeta still ring in my head, how helpless he was. I can't believe I almost gave in. I pause and examine what my life would be if I had taken his. I wouldn't be here, that's certain. I would have swallowed that pill and accepted death as my fate. And even in a scenario where I was still alive, life without Peeta, wouldn't be life at all. Both Prim and Peeta dead, the two people I vowed to protect, would have been also the death of me.

"If you say so," he continues without a second thought.

He tells me the explosion acted as some sort of trigger to his old mind. The doctors decided one traumatic event helped to override the other, even if not completely. The fact that he had already made a lot of progress, when treated in 13, was also helpful. Although he had several episodes in the burn unit and had to be sedated a couple of times, he never once felt conflicted about his intentions again. Dr. Aurelius had him tested and concluded Peeta no longer represented an imminent threat to himself, or even me. Peeta looks relieved when he tells me this, so I don't mention that the good doctor is not quite sure whether I'm the one who represents a threat right now.

"I'm sorry, Katniss." His hands are on his face and I'm afraid he'll hyperventilate if he breathes any faster.

I take one of his hands and hold it until he calms down. The truth is I don't know what he's sorry for. I should say something, but I'm still no good with words. Instead I wait for him to come back to me and continue what he was saying.

"I don't remember everything we had, but I'd like to try to remember. And maybe we can both forget that I almost choked you to death," he almost stutters this last sentence.

"It wasn't you," I say. "I think you should know that I don't blame you, Peeta. The truth is I never did. And I'm sorry too, for giving up on you. For the times I accepted you'd never be back to normal. That you'd never be back to me."

My confession is painful, but I owe it to him. I have come to terms with the fact that I will never stop owing him. Yet, my words make me uncomfortable so I clear my throat and look away to the oven. "So how about that pie? It should be ready by now."

Peeta chuckles. "You're still a piece of work, aren't you?" he says and then checks on the pie.

Unlike the last time he said something similar, there is no harshness in his voice. I don't know if it's our honest exchange or the pie he brings to the table that makes me warm inside. No matter the reason, I accept it as today's own little victory.

I try to follow Dr. Aurelius's advice, just going through the motions, amazed when one finally has meaning again.

I realize sharing a pie with Peeta, while he talks about baking and painting, means more than anything else in the world to me at this moment. It means there is a chance we might be normal again. I am not yet convinced of it nor am I sure things could be exactly like before. The doctor did say he'll never be the same, so most likely not. Every other sentence coming out of Peeta's mouth used to be an indication of his undying love for me. Since I don't see that happening ever again, I make peace with the suggestion that we could become real friends. And in the midst of my grief and despair, having a friend wouldn't be that bad.

We share some hot chocolate by the fire and talk about things we never talked about before. The real beginning to the story of how I got Prim's goat, the day he gave Delly a cupcake under the counter and his mother grounded him for a month, the first time I ever used a bow. He tells me of his first kiss and how he shared it with a girl after school wishing it had been with me. I can't tell if I'm jealous, but I gulp back my wish that it had been with me too. It feels liberating to talk about all of these memories, even though Peeta doesn't have as many to tell me as before, with a new sense of honesty that comes with Snow's death and the end of the games. We don't need to be afraid to share anymore. I have no reason to pretend to care anymore. And there's absolutely no pretending in what I feel towards Peeta right now. It is almost painful when the clock hits 1am and he walks me back to my house. Painful because I wish he stayed.

A/N: Ok, so this was a more everlark-centric chapter. I'm planning to branch out a bit more in the next couple of chapters though. Hope you enjoyed it and thank you for your kind reviews and pms. They make my day.