A/N: I am sooooo horrible for not posting this Chapter sooner. This Chapter is dedicated to TheNovaMellark on Twitter. :D Please enjoy!

Chapter Four

"Darkness and Light"

I can't stay that I'm surprised. Annie has taken a leaf right out of Finnick's book. I think that Annie's method might work eventually, just for the sheer fact that I want to know the rest of the story. But it won't work today. I decide on a whim that I want to go into the woods. It's not necessarily to hunt, but to think.

I go into the house, practically bound up the stairs, yet still being quiet. I have used my hunter's gait for so long that it's second nature to me now. Once in my room, I slip out of my night clothes trading them for my hunting clothes. Lastly, I slip on my boots. When I do, I let out a sigh of relief. The boots are one of the only things I have left that stayed the same since before my first Games. The leather is still soft and fitted to my feet. I slide both my arms into my hunting jacket and pull it around my torso. I walk to the closet to grab my bow, shouldering it. I feel like my old self again. Even though I am far from it, this makes it easy to pretend.

I hurry down the stairs and grab my game bag that's hanging on a peg by the door. I make my way into the kitchen and start to fill the bag with some water and some cheese buns that Peeta had made within the past couple of days. I might want them later. I tell Annie that I will be back and I leave the house, practically running to the District Twelve fence. It's not forbidden to go into the woods anymore, but it's still there to keep out bears or any other creature that might wreak havoc on the District. We have seen enough destruction. We don't need that.

My hole under the fence is back. I created it again. That's how I always went into the woods and I didn't want that to change. I flatten myself out onto my belly and slide under the fence effortlessly. The scent of the earth, the smell of the breeze blowing through the trees seems to hit me at once. As I stand up, I close my eyes, just breathing in the clean air. It makes me forget everything for a moment. I feel like myself out here.

I decide, considering my breakdown last night, that it's time I made a visit to my place, the one that my father showed me so many years ago. It feels like a lifetime. Anything before the first Games does. But it's not. It was only two years ago, almost three, that everything in my life had a sick normality to it. That was back when the worse pain I could imagine was purely physical. That was back when I was a different person, when I was a stronger person instead of this wispy, see-through version of myself.

I finally open my eyes, turning my face away from the sky, where I had positioned my gaze to allow the dim rays of sunlight to warm my skin for a few moments, to look at my watch. It has just turned ten. If I make the two hour hike, I'll be there by twelve. That gives me three hours to do what I want before I have to head back to get there by five when Peeta gets off at five. If I wasn't going so far into the woods, I could stay out here longer, but I always do my best thinking when I'm at the lake. It gives me a kind of peace that no person, not even Peeta, has been able to give me. I wonder if it has something to do with my dad, if I feel like he's still around when I go there. I'm not sure, so I just shrug it off as I begin the long hike.

I try not to think too much on my way there. I eat a couple of cheese buns. They taste fresh. Peeta must have made them this morning before he went into the bakery. Peeta is always doing small things for me. Baking, leaving me dandelions, notes. I know that he wants to make me smile. He told me that if I'm going to mope around all the time, he wanted to give me at least one smile a day. So far, he's accomplished that.

I stop along the way, gather some herbs, spices, and even some strawberries. When I stop to take a rest, I spot a rabbit and I kill it to take home for dinner. Although I like the meat we can get from the butcher, hunting is still one of my favorite things to do. Besides, it's nice to have something familiar for dinner every once in awhile. Like rabbit stew.

When I finally reach the lake, the sun is at its highest peak. My body is soaked with sweat to the point where my clothes are sticking to my skin. My jacket has long since been tossed onto my shoulder, and I rolled my pants legs up as far as they would go at least an hour before.

The water is crystal clear on the top. In the shallow parts, I can see straight through the water to the bottom where I see minnows swimming around, happy as can be with no real place to go. The sun is scorching and all I can think of is diving into the cold water of the lake to cool down. I decide that's what I'm going to do. I can think as I swim.

I strip down to my undergarments and lay my clothes out to dry on a large, flat rock nearby. They are so soaked with sweat that I won't want to put them back on if they don't dry out a little.

I don't creep to the edge, dip my toe in and check the water like Peeta would probably do. I run full force towards the lake, diving right into its depths, causing a huge splash that disturbs the minnows minding their own business in the shallows.

I don't let myself float directly back to the top. I let myself linger under the water, enjoying the sensation of the cool water completely surrounding me, submerging itself into my scorching skin. When I feel like my lungs are begging for air is when I finally swim towards the top. My head breaks the surface and the sunlight is practically blinding to my eyes that have quickly become accustomed to the darkness under the water of the lake.

I lay back against the water; my body soon begins to float. I close my eyes, relaxing under the combination of the cool water, and the sun dancing against my skin.

As I lay floating, my mind is blank for awhile and when the first thought enters my head, I beg for the emptiness again. How easy it would be: to hold my breath, push myself under the water and slowly but surely let myself leave this world, get away from all the pain, all of the hurt, all of the haunting nightmares, brutal memories. Just a little effort and it could all be over. Just like that.

Panic washes over me. How can I be thinking like this? How selfish am I becoming? How could I even think it, yet alone, actually consider doing it? I could never kill myself, even if I really wanted to. I couldn't do that to Peeta. I'm pretty sure that if I did, one of two things would happen. He would either follow my shortly after, or have an attack from which he would never recover. I couldn't do that to him. I would never be able to take myself from this world knowing what it would do to Peeta if I did.

What about Annie? I'm one of the few people that she has left, just like she is to me. I don't think I could leave her here. Losing someone else she cares about could cause her to take another turn for the worst, and she has the baby to worry about.

What about Johanna? We've kept in touch too. Ever since the Rebellion she has been more willing, more open to letting people in. We have even become friends. She is still afraid to let me too close, and I'm the same way with her, but we're working on it. That's all that matters. Surely if I took my own life, Johanna would somehow bring me back to life and axe me to death for leaving.

Then there's Haymitch. I know that I am, though he refuses to ever admit that he said it, like the daughter he never had. Haymitch is the closest thing in my life I have to a parental figure anymore, my family. I can't just let him lose someone he cares for. He hasn't cared for anybody in years. Not until Peeta and I, and I guess Effie, came along.

I guess I should think about my mother too. We don't have the best relationship, but would I really want her to go through the pain of losing both of her children?

What about Gale? Would he even care? Even if he didn't, I can't help but think of him too, at least the way he used to be. He wouldn't want me to do it. He wouldn't let me.

Yes. Taking my own life would be easy, and it would be a relief for me, but it would be selfish. It could possibly be the most selfish thing I could ever do. No one living, or dead, like

Finnick, Cinna, Prim, wouldn't want me to do it. The thought of them, what it would to them if I ended it just to get rid of all that pain, is what keeps me afloat. It was the only thing that kept my from curling into myself and sinking into the deep, dark, unknown depths of the lake.

I decide that Peeta and Annie are right. Maybe opening up will be the right thing to do. Maybe it will be good for me. But I'm not going into this without a fight. I won't go into this without kicking and screaming, but I know that it's progress that I have even admitted to myself that I need to open up. I will try to talk to either Peeta or Annie tomorrow. I know that today or tonight isn't time for me to do it. I reach up above me, trying to stretch my arms a little, and I see that my hands are already wrinkled. How long have I been in the water?

I flip over from my back to my stomach so that I can swim to the edge. I walk over to where my things are sitting. I bend down and retrieve my watch from my game bag to check the time. It's already two-thirty. How had that much time already passed? It had felt like minutes, not two hours. I decide to just forget about it. Obviously I was so lost in my thoughts that I had no real concept of the time. I sit down underneath the tree beside of the little concrete house, letting the sun dry my undergarments as I eat two more of Peeta's cheese buns. Once my underclothes are dry enough to bear, I put my clothes back on, gather up my belongings and head back to District Twelve.

The walk back seems like it takes longer then the way there did. Maybe it's because I had a purpose of going into the woods and now that it was fulfilled, I really had nothing to look forward too. But it suddenly dawns on me that when I get back home, Peeta will be there. This excites me more than it usually would. Maybe last night had helped me break down some of that wall that I had built up when it came to Peeta. I can't be sure. All I know is that after this thought crosses my mind, the rest of the walk doesn't seem so long.

I arrive at the house with ten minutes left until five. I tell Annie hello before I rush up the stairs. I want to take a shower before Peeta gets home. I am in the bathroom in no time at all.

I flip on the faucet, letting the water heat up as I unbraid my hair, and strip down. I step under the streaming jets of water, not taking the time to relax underneath them. I rinse off, scrub myself down with some sort of lilac smelling soap, and vigorously scrub my hair free of any sweat or dirt. Once the soap as washed down the drain, I step out of the shower and dry off my body and my hair. I brush it out and begin to braid it back.

As I'm standing in front of the mirror, I can't help but notice the scars that cover my body. Intricate burn patterns cover my arms, my abdomen. The seams between the grafted skin, and my olive tone are very obvious. If you didn't know any better, you would think it was some skin pattern created by the Capitol. Once I pull my braid into place, I bring my hand down and trace the marks on my stomach, my sides. There was once a large gash just above my breasts. It's nothing but a long, thin scar now. My body is almost like a constant reminder of the Games, of the Rebellion. It's like some sick memory book, a timeline of not only my physical pain, but emotional as well.

I hear chatter from downstairs and I know that Peeta has arrived home. I throw on some lounge pants and an old shirt that I'm sure is Peeta's from one of the times that he's stayed here. I then head downstairs.

Peeta is in the living room, standing by the door. Annie has come to greet him. I give him a smile as I enter the room.

He is coated in a thin layer of white flour from the bakery. I know I have just showered, but I don't care. That desire to that started last night, the ones that made my long for his closeness has not diminished at all. I walk up to him and wrap my arms around his muscular torso. Peeta doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around me in return, pulling me against him. I burrow my face into his chest and I am instantly greeted by a mixture of wonderful smells. I can smell the faint tint of baker's chocolate, a blast of sugar, the soft smell of fresh bread that always lingers on his work clothes.

"Hey," he whispers softly so only I can hear. "I missed you."

I feel my heart fluttering inside of my chest. I instantly feel even guiltier for the thoughts that crossed my mind at the lake. How could I have ever considered, even for a minute, leaving him behind just to get rid of all my own pain?

"I missed you too," I whisper back. I can't be as delicate with my words as Peeta is. They come out a little louder than I would like them to. I hear Peeta give a soft chuckle before his lips lightly graze my forehead. I close my eyes at the simple

contact of his lips against my skin. It is the best thing I have felt all day, including the cold water of the lake on my scorching skin when my body felt like it was on fire. This feeling is a different kind of peace. Not just of mind, but peace of body, peace of everything really, if only for a moment, or a glimmer of one.

He pulls away slightly, his hand coming up and cupping my cheek, lifting my head so that my eyes lock with his intense blue ones. His thumb gently runs across the skin of my cheek, Goosebumps start to raise all over my body, not because I'm cold, my body is just responding to the pleasant feel of his touch. "What did you do today?" he asks softly. He doesn't talk to anyone else this way. He has a special tone that is saved for me alone.

"Well, this morning I talked to Annie for awhile. We flipped on the TV to watch Panem Today and we saw a picture of Haymitch and Effie kissing."

Peeta's thumb stops moving for a moment, his blue eyes widen in surprise. "What? Are you kidding?"

I am unable to hold in my laughter. I give my head a gentle shake. "Nope," I say in reply. "I couldn't believe it either.

But now they are considered one of Panem's Hottest Couples."

Peeta laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. "Wow. Guess we know why Haymitch has been taking his little trips to the Capitol now, don't we?"

I laugh. "That's what I said! I'm going to have so much fun with him when he gets home."

Peeta chuckles at this. "Poor Haymitch." He gives me a toothy grin. "Anything else?"

I nod slightly, smiling when I feel Peeta resume stroking my cheek with his thumb. I feel more relaxed this way. I'm not sure why. I can't explain it, not even to myself. "Yeah, I talked to Annie a bit more and when were done I decided I would go to the woods. It wasn't to hunt, even though I got a rabbit. I just wanted some time to myself to think."

He nods at this. I don't know why I continue to explain myself to him. He understands me more than anyone, sometimes even more than I understand myself. It still scares me that I have let someone this close to me. Peeta could easily hurt me, it wouldn't be that hard. There is a part of me, however, that knows he won't. There is another part that is still afraid that he will change his mind.

"Of course," he says as his arm that's still wrapped around my waist tightens a little. "Did you get your head clear? I think you needed that."

I nod. Maybe tomorrow I will be able to tell him about the horrible thoughts that had passed through my mind, but not tonight. We are both in such a good mood. I won't ruin that. We both deserve a night of peace, where neither one of us is a mess of emotions or hijacking attacks. This has ever happened in the time that we have been back in Twelve. I want to enjoy this. Maybe this is just what I need to open up to Peeta, a night with him with no problems, no attacks, where it's just us, enjoying each other's company. Maybe acting like a real couple for once instead of two emotionally broken people that need each other to make it through the day will do is some good. I feel like tonight can be a night that feels normal. Not the normal that I used to have before the Games, but the kind I have become accustomed to since the end of the Rebellion, maybe even better. I need a night like this. I'm sure that Peeta does too.

"Do you think Annie would mind if we spend tonight together, just the two of us, again?"

I shake my head. "No. At least I hope not."

It won't be the same as last night where I needed to be comforted. This will be a night fir Peeta and I to just enjoy being together. I'm sure Annie, of all people, will understand that.

"We'll ask her after dinner, okay?" Peeta whispers, his thumb still sliding across the skin of my cheek. I still feel relaxed. How can he do this to me so easily? Surely it can't be healthy. Can it even be considered a good thing?

"All right," I whisper in return. Then, he leans forward and his lips gently brush against mine, only for moment. The moment is too quick for my liking. I want to grab him, hold him there and kiss him until I couldn't anymore, but I have to remind myself that this isn't a good idea. I can do that later, after dinner.

Peeta unwraps his arm from around me and his hand leaves my cheek. I don't like the empty feeling I am left with as he gives me a smile and I watch him walk into the kitchen. I'm too dependent on him sometimes. I'm not sure how it happened either.

I know I have a little while before dinner is done, so I plop down on the couch and flip on the TV. I'm just in time to catch the end credits of some outrageous show about the lives of Capitol women and their ever-expanding wardrobes, and just in time for Panem Tonight.

As always, there is montage of past episodes while Ceaser Flickerman does the voice-over and then we see Ceaser and his crew sitting around a large table ready to discuss all the latest gossip in Panem.

First thing, they show the shot of Haymitch and Effie again. Instead of being shocked, this time I smile. I'm really happy for the both of them.

"You know, Ceaser," Claudius Templesmith says. "It's been awhile since we heard anything about Panem's favorite couple.

I snort. Yay. They are talking about me and Peeta. The press is going to be after us now. If I end up alone with them, I will punch every single one of them in the face. I've punched a press member before.

"True, true!" Aurora Downtrot chirps, a woman who is rumored to be involved with Claudius. "But ever since our dear Mockingjay punched that paparazzi member, no one has been willing to go to Twelve for a while."

"Aw! It should be an honor," Ceaser says. Always the generous one. "If I got punched in the face by Katniss Everdeen I would be bragging to all of Panem about it."

There is a laugh from everyone on the TV screen, and even one from me. An honor. Ceaser hasn't lost one bit of his humor.

"No, but in all seriousness, I must admit I'm disappointed. After everything they have been through, I would like to know how they are doing and if they're still working out."

I can't help but smile. I have to wonder if it's because of Ceaser that the press hasn't bothered us for a couple of months. If so, I will be grateful. But now, I am fully expecting the press to come knocking down our door within the next couple of days.

"Speaking of the Girl on Fire," Aurora says. "Big news about her ex stylist Cinna."

My heartbeat quickens. News about Cinna? That makes no sense. Cinna is dead.

"Well, when they were unearthing the graves of the rebels made by the Capitol to bury them properly, they didn't find Cinna's body."

Cinna's body wasn't found? But what does this mean?

"Further investigation into it, along with some questioning of the Peacekeepers involved, it was discovered that Cinna somehow managed to escape."

He escaped the Peacekeepers? How? How badly was he beaten when he escaped? Does this mean…

"We think that Cinna is alive somewhere."