Well, hello there! It's been a while! Although I was super busy last weekend...(for those of you who don't know, I try to update every weekend.) And you are either going to hate me or love me for this chapter...and the cliffy...Well, why don't you read it and find out?

Disclaimer: No, I don't own the Hunger Games. Anything that's canon is S.C.'s and not mine. ...But Dr. M is my own...

And hand in hand with Peeta, we set off along the ash-crunched main road of District 12, to our old homes, to the Victor's Village…..

Peeta and I start at the main road. The district lies cold and lifeless. I trip and look down, expecting a rock, but instead I see a haunted skull. I killed you, I think, looking and seeing other skeletons. Who were they? Did I know them?

We pass by the mayor's house and I can't help but think of the day of my first reaping, when Gale and I sold Madge those strawberries. I saw her a little before the Victory Tour, but it's now hard to remember my best girlfriend.

I clutch Peeta's hand a little tighter. Next, we pass by the bakery, and Peeta just stares at his former home, blinking a lot faster than he usually does. I gently sift through the ashes, finding nothing but a twisted metal poker and a wire rack. Peeta takes them, and clutches them as we pass by my old house.

There's not anything left of my house. I had moved most of my possessions to the Victor's Village house, so I'm thankful for that.

We head over to the Victor's Village. We peek in the windows of Haymitch's house, but there's nothing there.

We go to Peeta's house. Peeta gets a gamebag and puts some things in. A sketchbook. A few brushes and paints. He even gets a few regular pants and shirts.

I shoot him a questioning glance, and he says, "What? The 13 uniform is so itchy. It'll be nice to have something from home."

I shrug. "Whatever, Bread Boy."

After he's finished packing his game bag, he says, "Do you think we can bring my canvasses to 13?"

"I don't know," I say honestly.

"We can try," Haymitch says from my earpiece, and I jump.

"Jeez, Haymitch!" I cry. "Don't DO that!"

"Haymitch said we could try to bring them back."

"I know." He taps his ear. Oh, duh, Peeta obviously has one too.

I help Peeta gather about twenty painted canvasses, each one neatly covered with a sheet. Then he gets a bunch of clean ones as well.

We set everything outside and head over to my house.

Once we're inside, I immediately spot my father's game bag. I'm very thankful I brought this stuff over to my "house". Otherwise it would be dust by now.

I neatly pack my mother's wedding picture. I add the plant book and some of Prim's treasures, like a rock or preserved flower. Even my hunting moccasins and a soft T-shirt I love to wear.

"I'll be right back," I tell Peeta, hurrying upstairs. "My father's hunting jacket."

Of course, he follows me. I turn into my bedroom and muffle a scream.

A white rose sits in a clear vase on my bedroom table.

It's obvious who's sent it. President Snow. The rose speaks of threats, of deceit and lies. It speaks of untold secrets. It suggests, I can find you. I can see you. Perhaps I am watching you now.

"Katniss," Peeta says, "It's okay. You're okay. You're safe with me." I hardly even notice him coughing in the middle.

Peeta guides me outside with my game bag and hunting jacket. A claw dips down and scoops up Peeta's canvasses, and a ladder like the ones from our Games drops down to pick us up. I collapse on the chair inside. The last thing I hear is Peeta's voice, hoarser then usual.

Next thing I know, I sit in yet another hospital bed. My mother sits in a chair next to me, lightly dozing.

"Mom?"

Her head snaps open. "Katniss! You're awake!"

"Yeah, I am. Why am I in a hospital bed?"

"The doctors wanted to check you, make sure you were okay," she explains. "There was still a lot of radiation and pollution, and smoke, and coal dust floating around in 12."

"Oh, okay."

She turns to leave. "Katniss?" she says, slowly, "Would you like to go back to your room?"

"Yes," I say, "that would be great."

So she tries to get me in a stretcher, but when that doesn't work, she puts me in a wheelchair and has a big muscly guy wheel me down to my compartment.

I walk around, dropping off my mother's wedding picture and Prim's treasures. My Little Duck collects the things, and lovingly polishes them off.

"I thought you would be in the hospital," she says.

"No," I reply.

"Oh, okay," she says.

So I walk back to my compartment.

I dust off my things like Prim, and arrange the covered canvasses, putting the unused ones in a cupboard next to his paints, sketchbook, and utensils. I put the plant book on a shelf, next to Cinna's sketchbook, and my father's hunting jacket on the back of the chair.

I put Peeta's shirts and pants in his half of the dresser, and my T-shirt on my half, along with my hunting shoes.

I put Peeta's pearl and a silver parachute in another drawer.

I flop onto the bed and admire my work. Peeta would be proud.

Vaguely, I want to look under the covered canvasses, but I decide to wait until Peeta wants to show me.

Peeta.

Where is he? He wouldn't be here—only if—only if—

He wasn't able to!

I fly out of my room and straight to the hospital, where I smack dab into Chris. "Oh, Hello, Katniss," he says, "I was about to come get you."

I pause, "Just—give me—one second"

He waits until I have my breath back. "How's Peeta?"

"Not very good," he says tersely, "Come in and talk to his doctor, he can explain it a lot better than I can."

I obediently follow him into the hospital. There's Peeta's dad and Rye there too, both looking really gloomy.

A man wth red hair is marking things on a clipboard, but looks up when I enter.

"Katniss," he says, "it's nice to see you. I'm Dr. M, Peeta's doctor. You're probably wondering what happened," and I nod. "When Peeta went back to 12 with you, there was a lot of coal dust floating around. And Peeta wasn't entirely healed yet, so I'm afraid he's had a relapse."

I let this information sink in.

"What?" I shriek.

"I'm so, so sorry, Katniss," he says gently, "The doctors are operating on him right now."

"What?" I cry, sinking down into a chair. "Why?"

"Peeta wasn't fully healed yet from his…..injuries…..in the Capitol, and the radiation and coal dust floating around in 12 didn't help at all."

"Oh," I say slowly, "Well, can I see him?"

"You can't go inside, but here he is," Dr. M says, pushing back a curtain.

I peek inside, peering at the white-masked doctors working away with their fancy tools, and I glance over to the heart monitor, only to see it fall into a straight, unbeeping line.

MWAHAHAHA! I know the ending and you don't, I know the ending and you don't...Gotta love dem cliffies.

So what'd you think? Remember, the reviews make me update faster...and then you can find out what happens to Peeta...

FAQ:

How long is this story going to be? This story is going to go to the end of Mockingjay, canon-wise. But wait! There's going to be a se-oops. *Covers mouth with hands*

SEQUEL? DID YOU SAY SEQUEL?! ...Yes...

Oooh! Oooh! What's it about? Hmm...well this is a CF/MJ story...could it possibly be an after-MJ story? Why yes, yes it could!

I have something to say. What should I do? REVIEWREVIEWREVIEWREVIEWREVI EW! You could click on that little button that says review! A quote, a line, or two if you can't make up your mind...(hey, I'm a poet and I didn't even know it!)

Can you guys believe this story has been going on for over three months? Neither can I? Let's hope it goes on for much, much more!

Until next time...which you'll find out Peeta's fate...

~~FuzzySocksAndWriting