Hello! Sorry, it's been a while since I've updated. I've been busy. But I think I finally got the chapter length I like! Let me know what you think. :)

I wake up with my nose and mouth blocked by my pillow. I throw it off my face and gasp, breathing in the cool early morning air. My head swims with the sudden rush of oxygen to my system. Something, besides the dizziness, doesn't feel quite right. There's no rumbling of the train beneath me. I get up and look out the window. We've stopped. Seeing as Effie had made such a big deal out of how frequently we would have to stop, I'm surprised this is the first time. Unless I've slept through the others.

I wander into the dining car. An Avox greets me with a smile and gestures to a large spread of breakfast items, but I wave it away, not hungry. No one else seems to be up yet so I take a seat in one of the plush chairs and stare at the wall. The events of the previous night creep slowly back into my thoughts. My outburst. Peeta's anger. The real reason we're heading back to the Capitol. I wonder why I don't feel more upset that Peeta may soon be gone from me forever. That I will be back in District 12 alone with my nightmares. It's then that I realize I'm numb. All the pain of loss and suffering has turned into a tasteless emotion. But as I think of all that Peeta has been through because of me, the bland emotion turns to hatred for myself, for the Capitol. I can feel my nails digging into my palms. If I hadn't been born, Peeta wouldn't be suffering. He would be happily dead, never having made it out of the arena. He wouldn't have to miss his family or wonder if anything he remembered was real.

I stand up, feeling a sudden need for fresh air. Outside, it's hot and humid. I wonder what District we're in. Maybe 4. Ahead of me, at the front of the train, several men are carrying heavy wooden blocks and stacking them where the tracks are missing. I wander over. Maybe if I do something helpful, I'll hate myself a little less. I'm about to ask one of them if I can be of assistance when I spot Peeta a few yards away, hefting a steel beam across a stack of the wooden blocks. His blue eyes meet mine and I feel the urge to run like before, at the bakery. But I don't. I guess I should be afraid of him after what happened last night, but all I feel is sympathy for him. Does he know? Does he know that he won't be coming back home?

Peeta sets the beam down and brushes off his hands. I walk over to him slowly, being careful not to make any sudden moves. Why am I treating him like an angry bear? He's not an animal. He's just Peeta. I stop. He's just Peeta… who hates me and thinks I'm a mutt. I want to turn and run far, far away, but he's already closed the distance between us. I look at the ground. He doesn't need to see how much being near him hurts. But instead of saying hi or apologizing, I feel his strong arms embrace me. My first instinct is to push him away. These are the same arms that would have crushed me last night. But he's so warm and so… so Peeta. I rest my head on his chest and close my eyes. I don't know how long we stand there for, but too soon, I feel his arms loosening.

"I'm so sorry, Katniss," he whispers before letting go.

I shake my head. "It's not your fault. I shouldn't have yelled at you."

"I think me trying to kill you is a lot worse than you losing your temper with me."

I look up and see that there's a sparkle in his eye. I allow myself one shaky laugh. "Stop doing that," I say.

"Doing what?" He frowns.

"Stop making what you do seem worse to make me feel better."

"But it's true. Any bad thing you have ever done pales in comparison to my actions."

Of course asking him to stop wouldn't work. Now that he knows self-degradation is the only way to make me feel better, he's going to do it all the time.

Suddenly, Peeta's selflessness is too much for me and I begin to back away. I don't deserve to be in his presence. He notices.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"Back to the train." Away from you.

I turn and walk away as quickly as I can without tripping over the construction. Greasy Sae is standing at the train door, waving to me. I jog the rest of the way to her.

"We were wondering where you were. Effie has something she'd like to discuss with you and Peeta."

Effie lets us get about halfway through our meal before she springs her idea on us.

"Katniss, Peeta. I'd like to ask a favor of you both," she says.

I frown. An Effie favor is never equal to a normal one. Chances are we'll be painting her nails for her while she gets her beauty rest. What better way to make her life more efficient? But what she does say is completely unexpected.

"Haymitch and I…" she steals a glance in his direction. He's in another alcohol induced coma. "Would like Katniss to become the Mockingjay again."

I swallow wrong and start coughing loudly. Ever kind Peeta scoots over to pat my back. Greasy Sae drops her fork. Since I can hardly breathe, let alone speak, Peeta asks the question we're all thinking. "What are you talking about?"

Effie sighs. "I understand how this distresses you. I know Katniss never enjoyed the publicity and fame."

Had I not been gasping for air, I would have rolled my eyes. The publicity and fame. Right. It wasn't the fact that I was putting myself and the ones I loved in constant danger, no, it was because I didn't like the attention that I was reluctant to be the Mockingjay the first time. The thought of having to be the focal point of all of Panem again makes me want to crawl under my covers in my old home and never come out.

"But," Effie continues over my coughing. "Instead of being a symbol for the rebellion, you would be a symbol for hope."

Hope. There is a word I rarely use. Because to hope for something in District 12 before the rebellion was to wish upon a star that you couldn't see. It was throwing a speck of dust in the darkness and hoping to hit the only other speck of dust out there.

When I've recovered from choking, I immediately begin to shake my head. "No."

"Why ever not?" Effie asks. Silly, ignorant Effie. How could someone as broken and damaged as me ever be a symbol for hope? It's not as if I walked out of the arena twice brushing the dust off my shoulders and saying 'Hey, what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger'. Since returning to District 12, all I've done is wallow in my own misery, as Peeta would put it. I'm about as good a symbol for hope as a rock.

"Of course, you wouldn't be doing it alone," she prompts. "That's where Peeta comes in. If you two could show that… that you stayed together all this time. That you worked through your losses—"

I cut her off. "What do you mean 'stayed together'?"

Effie blinks in astonishment at my inability to understand. "You are the star-crossed lovers of District 12, aren't you?"

I slam my fist on the table, making Peeta who is still patting my back jump. "No! I will not pretend for everyone anymore. They are broken and so am I. I refuse to play your stupid games. Nothing is going to fix any of this. Nothing will bring Prim or Finnick or Cinna back." I feel the tears spring into my eyes and spill over before I'm able to get away. When I do manage to escape from my chair and run down the hall to my room, I hear Peeta say sadly, "She doesn't know what it's like out there."

So this is why they've dragged me here. It's not just a simple check up with Dr. Aurelius. Was Greasy Sae lying about Peeta going to the capitol to stay, too? Has he been in on this the whole time? The attack the other night seemed real enough. His anger could not be questioned. But had he really been having all those episodes Sae talked about in District 12? Or was the one on the train a complete surprise to her as well?

I think myself sick. By the time I've run through all the questions in my head, I'm bent over the toilet, losing my breakfast. When I'm finished, I sit on the bathroom floor a while longer, letting the cool tile absorb the angry heat from my palms. I'm sick of being lied to. Don't they know what I've been through? Hasn't it been enough without them keeping secrets from me? I lie down on the tile and try to clear my mind.

I wake up in my bed. It's dark outside. There's a glass of milk on the nightstand. I sit up and am startled to see Peeta sleeping across the foot of my bed. My stomach growls and I reach for the milk. I've been asleep all day and the only thing I'd eaten came back up. The milk is room temperature, but I drink it down in a matter of seconds.

"Peeta," I whisper, nudging him with my foot.

He grumbles and rolls over, opening his eyes. "Oh, hi. You're up." He sits up and stretches.

"Why are you sleeping on my bed?" I ask.

"Oh, I… you were sleeping on the bathroom floor when I came in to check on you so I brought you to your bed."

"Oh," I say. "Thanks."

Peeta nods. "Are you okay? I know what Effie said was-"

"I'm fine."

"You say that. But I don't believe you."

I look away from his gaze. "What she said…I couldn't imagine being that again. Pretending to be okay for everyone. I don't think I'm strong enough."

"You are. You just don't know it."

I shake my head. "No, Peeta. You were right about what you said last night. All I do is sit by myself and wallow in my problems. I-"

"I wasn't talking about you." His voice is angry.

I look up, startled. Peeta is staring at me with sad eyes. "I don't know what to say anymore, Katniss. I can't go a day without hurting you in some way or another. It's so… hard to watch you beat yourself up like this."

I want to pull the covers over my head so he can't see how much his words bother me. Again, I'm the reason he's suffering. My self-pity is hurting Peeta. I'm such a selfish person. I want to run away from myself. Crawl out of my skin and just run. "I'm sorry, Peeta," I whisper. I don't know what else to say. I've never been good with words.

He shakes his head. "No, don't apologize. Just try to remember that we're all a little screwed up." Then a small smile crosses his face. "Maybe some of us more than others."

I find myself wanting him to smile a little bigger, like he used to before the rebellion. I want him to smile at me because I made him happy. I suddenly want so many things I have to shake my head to clear it. Peeta stands up to go, but I grab his hand. "No, don't. Please… please stay," I barely whisper.

A look crosses Peeta's face that I remember seeing in the first arena, in a cave, all that time ago. "Always."