I'm sorry for the cliffy, really I am! It just worked out that way.

Thanks for all your reviews!

Alyx in particular: thank you for the feedback! It's actually very helpful for me to know if things are going too fast or slow. Though I will say…17-year-old boys are 17-year-old boys. Even Peeta, much as I hate to admit it. :P

I do not own the Hunger Games.

His arms are around her in a second, one strong arm around her waist, the other around her back. She's never felt safer anywhere else and she's comforted by his heartbeat, thudding its steady beat right below her ear.

"What is it? What's wrong?" he demands. She hasn't gone for her bow, so she's certain he'll know their lives aren't in any immediate danger, but then again, who's to say they're not? She feels his urgency in the way his heartbeat speeds up, but she knows she doesn't have to answer. He'll see through the windows.

"What—there's people!" he exclaims, and she can tell he wants to run to investigate, but it goes against everything in him to let go of her. But she feels this, his desire to check, and so she holds on tighter, hoping that he won't let go, because she's pretty sure he's the only thing holding her together; that if he lets go, she will disintegrate completely, shatter into tiny pieces and blow away with the wind.

Why the hell are there people here? Who are they? And…what can they possibly want?

"We can just go see what they want…" he whispers, and he's not pushing her out of his arms, just hoping she'll rejoin the living. He wants to be among the living, not here with the ghosts and this burned-out shell of who she used to be. And then, out of nowhere, she's sobbing, because she doesn't deserve him, never deserved him, could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve him, and she's terrified that whoever this is, whether from the Capitol or 13, they'll see how burned out she is, how much she's lost her grip on reality, and they'll take him from her. They can't take him. He's the only thing holding her together, the only thing, and she needs…she needs—

"Katniss, we don't have to," he whispers, pulling her close, kissing her hair, her forehead. He plays so many different roles with her: her lover, comforter, best friend—

"You want them," she tries to say, but she's sobbing too hard. She finds a grip on her words, somehow, splutters out, "You'll want them, because they're not ghosts, they'll sleep and talk and listen…they're, they're real, and they've never been lit on fire—"
He cuts her off with a kiss, capturing her words in his mouth, giving her hope. She tastes salt, realizes that she's still crying, and she clings to him harder, hoping that it doesn't have to end. He pulls away, finally, cups her cheek.

"I will never want anyone more than you," he breathes. He wants her, but is it enough?

"They know that this is exactly where I'd come crawling back to," she tells him, knowing there is fear in her eyes and having no idea how to get rid of it, "they know if I'd ever come crawling back anywhere, it's here, and they know that taking you is the best way to hurt me."

"I won't let them take me," he tells her, but as he's kissing her, she thinks that they do take him, every time he has an episode. That separation: Peeta, lost and absent above her, Katniss underneath him, knowing she can't need him but knowing she couldn't live without him, that's what they wanted along. They want to turn them back into the trembling children who should've died in the first Games. She's thought, so many times in between then and now, that they would be better dead. And now, just when she's beginning to see light, to think she was wrong, she knows one thing more certainly than anything else: dying would be infinitely less painful than losing him.

She's kissing him more desperately, foolishly thinking that no one will take him while his lips are on hers, so she's surprised when they are interrupted by an impatient knock at their door.

"If you two could get your tongues out of each other's throats for five minutes," snaps Haymitch, standing at their door, which is still flung open, "we have company, and I hate company."

She giggles at the sight of him: his shirt is rumpled, untucked, and buttoned wrong. Somewhere, she finds the strength to pull away from Peeta and go to Haymitch, button his shirt properly. He grins at her.

"Thanks, sweetheart," he tells her sarcastically.

"Can we go tell them to get the hell out?" she asks eagerly, and he barks a laugh, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

Their guests have half-assembled on their lawn, clearly seeing that some sort of commotion is taking place (though Katniss doesn't give herself any credit for this; she's sure Haymitch made quite a commotion crossing from his house to theirs). She's shocked by how many of this crowd she recognizes: Greasy Sae, Thom, Delly…

"What the hell are you all doing here?" demands Haymitch, and Katniss is desperately glad that his knife is in his pocket. She has her bow, but it's not raised, just hanging limply by her side. She's known since the moment she saw them that they don't pose any physical threat to her: just emotional, just…they can't take him from her, they can't.

"Hi!" squeals Delly. Katniss squeezes Peeta's hand, hard, so Haymitch gets the first word in.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demands bluntly.

Delly flounders slightly. "The Capitol…well, Paylor, she said…" She's trying to use her optimism to sway them, but she can see the expressions on Haymitch and Katniss' faces, so Greasy Sae takes over.

"This is our home," she says simply, "and it's going to be District 12 again."

"Hell no, it's not," Haymitch snaps at her, but Peeta is grinning.

"You want to help us, clean up and…"

"We'll make it our home," says Delly. "We want to start again."
Peeta hugs her without warning, so she squeals as she goes into his arms. Katniss stares at them, this blonde girl in his arms, and stalks away before she can greet anyone. Haymitch is two steps behind her.

So, I recognize that my timing is off, and SC already had Thom and Greasy Sae there at the end of Mockingjay. But...I didn't. And I'm changing it up. So bear with me? Thanks!

Reviews make me smile!