A/N: Once again, you guys amaze me with your awesomeness of epic fantabulous proportions. I say it all the time, but it needs to be said. Because it's true. And so, I repeat: YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING.

Thank you for all the wonderful reviews and the many alerts and favorites and everything else that you guys do to inflate my already inflated ego.

I actually don't have much to say today. Yeah, I know. It's strange. Aside from an essay I need to write over the weekend on a topic I've yet to come up with and studying for a chemistry test, I don't have much to say. Oh, except for the fact that midterms are next week. Yay. I'm so excited guys. Really, I can't describe the complete euphoria running through my veins at the thought.

Okay, sarcasm aside, let's move onto the chapter! This chapter is one of my favorites because one of the most dramatic, sad, heartbreaking (yet still awesome) scenes is in this chapter. It's one of the very first scenes that I thought of writing when contemplating this story and outlining it over the summer. It's intense though.

Which is why I must give a warning. THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT LANGUAGE. Flashbacks have the tendency to spawn dirty words.

Also, this chapter's title is "Enter Sandman," and for those of you who like Metallica, you know it's not the happiest song in the world. Or the nicest. Hence, why I chose it for this chapter. I literally listened to this song on repeat the entire time I wrote the chapter.

Random Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games Series. As the past two stories show, my version of events would have been quite different.

Me: *jamming out to Metallica* Woo! This song is awesome!

Peeta: I don't know, this song seems kind of dark to me . . .

Rye: Yeah, it's creepy. And is there really a man made of sand?

Peter Parker: Dude, you have no idea.

Me: Dude! Wrong fandom!

Katniss: Who was that?

Me: Oh, just this smarty pants that got bit by a radioactive spider . . .

Ron Weasley: Spiders! They want me to tap dance! I don't want to tap dance!

Harry Potter: You tell those spiders, Ron.

Haymitch: WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?!

Me: Um . . . sorry, I got carried away . . .


Chapter 14: Enter Sandman

Something's wrong, shut the light

Heavy thoughts tonight, and they aren't of Snow White

Dreams of War, Dreams of Lies, Dreams of Dragon's Fire

And of things that will bite


As the tears slip slowly from my eyes, Peeta just watches them fall. I see the pain in his eyes increase with each saltwater drop that escapes me. He lets me cry, though his fingers tighten around mine in a comforting gesture. But it's not what I want. I want him to hold me. I want him to tell me that it's all going to be okay. I want him to smile. I want him to laugh.

But I know that it will not happen.

And that just makes it worse.

I know that it's not fair of me to ask so much from him. It's not fair for me to expect him to be the Peeta I remember. And yet, I can't deny that I am angry at him. For leaving me. For returning to me as a stranger, a ghost of his former self. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say.

And I irrationally blame Peeta.

I know that my anger should be directed toward the Capitol, toward President Snow. It's their fault that Peeta was taken from me. It's their fault that they returned him to me a different person. Everything is their fault. The blame rests on their shoulders.

As I continue to contemplate the Capitol and what they've done, seething rage begins to bubble within me. I've never felt so much hate. What they've done to Peeta crossed a line I didn't even know existed. They will pay. I will personally see to it. Oh yes, they will most definitely pay for what they have done.

My tears dry up as I continue to focus my anger away from Peeta and where it truly belongs: the Capitol. I know that I cannot possibly be there for Peeta completely if I'm angry with him for something that he had no control over, for something that he endured to save me. I can't hold onto this anger and help him.

But when I finally let go of the anger, it's replaced with a feeling resembling desolation. The shadowy future that currently lies before me is fraught with unknowns and guaranteed struggles. Somehow, I will have to help Peeta recover, mentally and physically, all while pregnant and fending off Command. How am I going to do this? It's too much. It's too much for one person to handle.

But I have Prim. I have Rye and Gale. And most importantly, I have Haymitch. Haymitch will help me. He can help me deal with Command. Prim and Rye will be right by my side through every step of my pregnancy, just as they have the past month. I'm not alone in this. I know that.

However, the lonely void in my heart says differently.

"Katniss."

I blink back the last vestiges of my tears and focus on his face. He's studying me, looking over my face in a hyper-analytic way. It's almost as if he's trying to decide how to help me. What used to be second nature to him now requires contemplation. We both stare at each other for a moment, searching each other's gaze. Fruitlessly, I try to find some part of the man I remember. His eyes, once so expressive, are now guarded and suspicious. His face is set in an expression of cautious curiosity. It's like he doesn't know what to make of me.

It hurts.

His gaze eventually leaves my face, his eyes dropping down until they rest on my stomach. Then, in his eyes, a flash of emotion flickers. It's gone in a blink, but I still saw it. This little flicker of emotion fills me with relief. It's a sign. Peeta's still in there. I know he is. Dr. Riley's words from before filter through my mind.

The man you love is still there, but right now he's too hurt to be all that he once was.

Yes, Peeta's still there. Somewhere. I can't give up on him.

"Tell me about what I missed," he says, his eyes still glued to my round stomach. "Everything."

"That's a long story."

"I have time."

I take a deep breath. "Okay." Quickly, I rack my brain for a starting point, but after a second or two I decide that the beginning is as good a place as any. "I made it back to the lightning tree just as District 13 was pulling Beetee up. I passed out from blood loss and when I woke up I was in the hospital, and Haymitch was there waiting for me. He told me that you, Johanna, and Enobaria had been captured." I sigh, closing my eyes as I remember the despair-ridden weeks that followed. "I wasn't in a very good place for a while. The doctors labeled me as 'mentally disoriented' which I used to my advantage. To get out of meetings all I had to do was start mumbling nonsense." My lips quirk slightly. "I did that a lot."

The Peeta I remember would have laughed, or at least smiled.

This Peeta's face remains expressionless.

Fighting against a mixture of anger and sadness, I continue. "But, eventually, I pulled myself together and started campaigning to go back to 12. I knew it'd been bombed but—" Suddenly, I pause and look at Peeta with wide eyes. "Did you know? About 12?"

Peeta's eyes darken in cold rage. "I saw the footage," he spits. "Multiple times."

It takes me a moment to digest the sheer venom in his words, but I take a deep breath and try to move on. "Well, I wanted to see it. Haymitch and I finally convinced them to let us make the trip. It's ashes. The Seam got the worst of it, but the Town was hardly any better. All that's left of the bakery is the oven." I spare him a sympathetic glance, but Peeta doesn't respond. "But the Victor's Village was spared. Hell, the grass was still green and the flowers were still blooming." I scowl in anger before remembering the good thing that came from that day. "Only good thing that came from that trip was that I found Maya."

At the sound of her name, Maya's head comically pops up. With a wolfy smile, she trots to my side. Peeta stiffens at the sight of her and for a moment I'm worried that her presence might prompt one of the flashbacks that Dr. Riley mentioned, but Peeta relaxes a few seconds later. Almost as if she sensed his acceptance, Maya nudges between me and the bed so she can be closer to Peeta. Gently, she nuzzles his hand with her muzzle before licking his fingers. I withdraw my hand from his and immediately his fingers tangle in her fur. Maya simply rests her head on the edge of the bed, content to stay where she is as long as Peeta continues to pet her.

"She's good company," I say with a tentative smile. "Honestly, she's been keeping me sane."

"I'm glad she's alright," Peeta says quietly, though his tone is still emotionless.

My smile crumbles, but I swallow and try to continue my tale. "Anyway, I went into the house. It was just how we left it—" I stop abruptly as I realize my statement is false. Our house was not exactly how we'd left it.

"What?" Peeta asks sharply, his eyes immediately scanning the room. For a moment I'm confused by his actions, until I realize that he is looking for a threat. His reasoning for my abruptness was that there was somehow a threat, a danger. Not the fact that I'd simply remembered something.

"We're fine," I tell him as Maya nuzzles his hand again, as if to calm him in her own way. "I just remembered something." Peeta simply looks at me, waiting, though I know he's still scanning the room in his peripheral. "There was a rose," I divulge quietly. "A white rose on the bed."

Peeta's eyes narrow dangerously, and for the first time in my life I feel afraid of him. His eyes are too cold. Too calculated.

Deadly.

The ache in my heart intensifies, but I manage to push the pain to the back of my mind. I should have expected this. After all the violence he'd seen, the carnage . . . I'm sure that violence seems much more acceptable. More natural.

"He'll pay for that," Peeta eventually says. Although his voice is perfectly calm and even, the threat in his voice is abundantly clear. "I promise."

"I believe you."

I resume my tale after a moment, when Peeta's gaze softens just slightly. He listens without comment when I tell him about the rest of my trip to 12 and then all my dealings with Command and Coin. Reluctantly, I admit my stupid decision to go to District 8. I tell him about the bombings and how Rye probably prevented an injury that might have had disastrous consequences for the baby. Peeta's eyes narrow at that. Is it simply because I put myself in danger? Or . . . maybe . . . is it the fact that Rye saved me? Could it be that he's envious of his brother for protecting me when he couldn't? Something I know Peeta considered his job.

There's no reaction from him as I tell him about the rest of the propos, but there's a flicker of something in his eyes when I talk about Coin, something dangerous. It gets worse as I tell of mine and Haymitch's theory; how we think that Coin is just using me for propos, but I'll become expendable as soon as the baby is born. That she'll try to get rid of me because I'm the only one who stands in her way on her ascent to power.

"I need to talk to Haymitch," he says and I nod, though I'm wary of what plans this new Peeta and Haymitch could concoct.

"I'll make sure he stops by," I assure him quietly.

We fall into silence for a few moments before Peeta asks, "What about the baby?" For the first time, his voice holds a hint of caution that borders on fear.

I lay a gentle hand on his good arm, unable to refrain from caressing the smooth skin. At my touch, the muscles in Peeta's arm tense. His reaction hurts, but I don't let it show. A part of me expected it. Peeta hasn't known a gentle touch for a long time.

"Everything's fine," I say with a small smile. "Despite it all. Dr. Riley says he or she is tough as nails." A small laugh escapes me. "It makes sense though, right? Anyway, she keeps harping about avoiding stress. I've already been put on bed rest once because of it. But I'm okay. We're okay."

Finally, I'm able to talk to him about the baby and all he's missed. The release is so cathartic that the words spill from my mouth in a rush. I tell him about each one of my doctor's appointments, and how Prim or Rye will typically accompany me. With a watery smile I tell him of how I've heard the baby's heartbeat and how I've actually seen its image on a tiny little screen. I tell him how I can feel the baby move, every flutter reminding me that he's there.

However, as I continue to gush about the baby, Peeta slowly becomes tense beneath my fingers. A wild light slowly flames within his eyes, burning brighter and brighter as I continue. The hairs on the back of my neck begin to stand up, but I can't seem to stop talking. I've wanted him to know all of this for too long.

"And the other day, Dr. Riley asked if I wanted to know the gender," I say. "She could have told me, but . . ." Maya begins to whine, nuzzling Peeta's hand. ". . . well . . . I didn't want to know without you there. It wasn't fair."

"No it's not," Peeta agrees with more fury in his voice than I've ever heard.

Maya's whine increases in intensity as she places herself between myself and Peeta, as if she's protecting me from him. But, why? She licks his fingers, paws gently at his arm, but Peeta either doesn't notice or is ignoring her.

"It's not fair," he seethes. Rage radiates from him in waves, and my heartbeat suddenly races toward a frantic pace. In the background, I hear the rapid beat of the heart monitor, but still I can't find it within myself to move away. I want to help him. "It's not fair," he repeats furiously. "It's not fucking fair!"

And a second before he snaps, I realize what's happening.

Peeta is having a flashback.

Maya growls sharply as Peeta shouts, "It's not fair! Damn them!" Suddenly, doctors burst into the room, pushing me out of the way and Maya, too. They swarm Peeta, grabbing at him, trying to hold him down so they can sedate him.

Big mistake.

The moment Peeta has a chance, he lashes out. Despite his injuries, he moves quicker than I've ever seen, grabbing the nearest doctor and tossing him back. This only prompts a stronger retaliation from the doctors as more rush in to try to subdue him, but Peeta is like a caged animal. Their presence only agitates him more. He swings his fist blindly, managing to catch one of the doctors in the jaw. Another doctor gets a kick to the chest. A nurse gets her face rammed into one of the monitors.

"I don't know anything!" Peeta shouts. "I don't know anything!"

"Mr. Mellark, we're trying to help you!"

"Go to hell you bastards!"

"I need that sedative, Michelle!"

At the sight of the needle, Peeta goes berserk, struggling harder than ever. "Get that away from me!" he screams. "I don't know anything, you stupid fucking pricks! I don't know anything!"

"Mr. Mellark—"

"I'll kill all of you! Just wait! I'll kill you for what you've done!"

"I need that sedative! Hold him down!"

"I'll kill you! All of you! I'll fucking kill you!"

Finally, after what seems like hours, a doctor finally manages to inject the sedative. It must have been quite a high dose because Peeta immediately becomes lethargic. He slumps back onto the bed, though his eyes refuse to close. He glares so ferociously at the doctor that I fully expect the man to fall over dead.

"It'll never work," Peeta tells him smugly. Defiant. "You can keep me here for the rest of my life, but I'm not telling you a damn thing. You can inject me with all the venom you want."

Peeta's quickly losing the battle with consciousness, but he forces himself to make one more declaration before he succumbs. "I'd never hurt her."

His eyes close, and everyone in the room breathes a sigh of relief . . . except for me.

I don't know when I slid down the wall, my hand clasped over my mouth to try to muffle my sobs. Tears poor in a torrent down my cheeks. Maya whines in concern, nudging me with her nose, but I don't reach out to her. I'm frozen. Horror and despair keeps me still.

A hand appears in front of my face and I look up through my tears and see the blurry outline of Haymitch. I'm not sure if I take his hand or not, but suddenly I'm on my feet being led out of the room. Haymitch leads me into a different room, and then I'm sitting in a chair. Maya lays her head in my lap, trying with all her might to console me, but I can't find even a smidgen of comfort from my furry companion.

Haymitch sits down next to me and wordlessly pulls me into his arms, letting me cry into his chest. Once again, he's dropped his guard to take care of me. He runs a soothing hand down my back, murmurs in my ear, but it doesn't help. Haymitch quickly realizes this too, because he stops and just lets me cry and ruin his shirt.

When my tears finally cease, I feel awful. My eyes are sore, my nose is runny, and my throat feels raw. My body aches from the force of my sobs, and I want nothing more than to curl up in a ball and go to sleep.

"If you manage to shed another tear in your life, I'll be impressed," Haymitch says eventually. "Because Heaven knows you've cried enough for one lifetime."

The words are so typically Haymitch that I can't help the choked laugh that escapes me. "I won't argue with you," I respond quietly, easing away from him and wiping my eyes. I blink quickly, trying to clear my vision. After a moment, I look up to meet Haymitch's eyes. Immediately, I notice that his eyes are red-rimmed as well, but I don't voice my observation.

I take stock of my surroundings and realize that I'm in the observation lounge that looks into Peeta's room. Instantly, I'm on my feet and moving toward the large window that spans the entire wall. Through the glass Peeta lies motionlessly on the bed, his face relaxed in sleep. There's no evidence of his earlier violence, and yet I still see it in my mind's eye. Now that I've had time away from the incident, I can think of it in a more rational manner.

Peeta's body may be broken, but he's still as strong as I remember; perhaps stronger, if the events of today are anything to go by. Yes, I'm sure he got a boost from the adrenaline, but those moves were all him. Such quick reaction. Perfect timing. Perfect execution. Frankly, it's a good thing for the doctors that he never got to his feet. My gut tells me things would have gone from bad to worse in the blink of an eye.

"Did you see it?" I ask quietly as Haymitch joins me by the window.

"Yeah," he admits with a heavy sigh. "Came in when you were talking about the baby. Saw him tense up. Called the doctors the moment his eyes got a little too wild for my peace of mind."

Remembering how many doctors rushed in, his statement makes sense. That many doctors would not have answered a simple quickening heart monitor unless they had forewarning of what to expect. As the scene unfolds in my mind, anger fills me.

"Why did they rush him like that?" I hiss in incredulity. "That didn't help at all!"

"He was already in the flashback," Haymitch counters gently. "Nothing would have helped."

"They could have at least gone about it differently!" I argue. "Surely, they had to realize that rushing him like that would only seem like an attack. They can't be that stupid."

"I'm not saying they handled the situation perfectly," Haymitch retorts logically. "But we'll never know if anything else would have made a difference. There's no sense in being angry over it. Right now, we just need to focus on how this episode will affect Peeta, if at all."

My lips purse in a thin line. I know that he's right, and I hate it. The prospect of yelling at some doctors was beginning to brighten my mood slightly. "Fine."

Haymitch ignores my tone. "I was talking to Dr. Riley about the flashbacks since that was what worried her the most." He pauses to study Peeta for a moment, sadness melting into his gaze. "As we just found out, she was right to worry."

My hand finds the glass. "What did she say?"

"Well, first off, she said that Peeta might not remember the episode at all." Haymitch runs a frustrated hand through his hair. "Or he might remember bits and pieces. He might remember what set him off and nothing else. Or he might remember the episode but be unable to know the reason for it. It's all so damn unpredictable. Hell, he might remember the entire thing."

We fall into silence as we both stare through the glass at Peeta. "I don't know how to help him, Haymitch," I divulge quietly, despair clawing at my heart. "He's pretending to be detached, but there's so much emotion hiding underneath. Sadness. Pain. Anger . . ." My eyes flit to Haymitch before focusing on Peeta once more. "He's so angry, Haymitch. It's eating him alive, I can tell."

"That's dangerous," Haymitch says seriously and I feel a tear slip from my eye. It seems I have yet to run out of tears. But then again, I don't think there's a limit to the amount of tears I can shed for Peeta.

"For the first time in my life, I'm afraid of him," I admit with a soft sob. "I'm terrified. I'm scared of what he can do."

Haymitch's arm wraps around me again. "I'm more worried about what he will do." His calculative eyes scrutinize Peeta. "Peeta will get back into shape," he says. "We both know that. He'll need that. But I'm worried about what will fuel him. Katniss . . . anger like that . . . you can't let it fester. It will consume him, that anger that fuels his need for revenge. You saw it."

Yes, I did. I can still remember Peeta's cold, vengeful threat. He'll pay for that. I promise.

I wonder if Snow realizes that he's created his own bane.

"I don't know how to help him," I repeat, my voice carrying a plea. I need Haymitch to give me the answer I so desperately seek.

"Just be you," he replies, turning to look at me fully. "You were his anchor in that hellhole. The kid's life revolves around you. It still does. You heard him there at the end."

I'd never hurt her. His last words to the doctors before the drugs overpowered him.

"He lives for you," Haymitch continues. "You and the baby. And he's not so far gone that he won't do everything he can to be the man he knows he needs to be. It's gonna be a rough road, but eventually he'll get there. You just got to guide him through, Katniss. Listen when he wants to talk. Give him space when he needs it. Push him when he needs to be pushed. You know him better than anyone."

"But I don't know this Peeta," I argue bleakly. "He's different."

"At heart he's the same," Haymitch counters. "At heart he's still compassionate, loving, and too damn nice." My lips twitch at that. "And, yes, he's different, but he's not a different person entirely. He's gained some new personality traits. Some will fade as he recovers, some won't. What you've got to ask yourself, is if you can still love him despite that?"

I contemplate my answer. It pains me that I can't give him an immediate positive answer. I shouldn't have to think if I can love Peeta. Of course, I love Peeta. I love him more than I ever thought myself capable. I can't imagine life without him. To even try is excruciating. But can I love this new Peeta? This Peeta that has smothered the Peeta I remember in order to protect himself from the horror he endured. This Peeta that's righteously angry and thirsting for revenge, who barely bats an eye at violence and treats me as though I'm merely a name and a face.

As doubt begins to cloud my mind, I hear Peeta's voice whisper in my ear. In a way, we're going to have to fall in love all over again.

The Peeta in my dream is right. We are going to have to fall in love all over again. Can I do that? Can I risk falling for him yet again only to find later that he can't return my feelings? Can my heart take the rejection?

No. It can't.

But I remember what Peeta said before he was pulled under by the sedative. His last declaration made with so much defiance, and yet beneath that, love. I'd never hurt her.

Peeta would never hurt me. No matter how he may have changed, that fact will remain resolute. And it's the passion behind his statement, the sheer strength of belief that gives me my answer.

"Yes," I say quietly, but firmly. My eyes leave Haymitch to stare through the glass at Peeta. Yes, of course, I can love him. It may be painful at times, but I'll always love him. Just as he has always loved me. I have to trust him. He promised to come back to me. "Always."


Well, that's quite an emotional chapter, huh? Don't worry, there's more to come. A lot more.

Poor Peeta! He's all messed up and yet still always thinking of Katniss. *sigh*

So, what did you think of the flashback? Personally, I like it. It's violent, intense, and heartbreaking all at the same time. Oh, and Peeta got to drop f-bombs. I don't know why but that just makes me smile. And then Katniss! Wow, her life sucks right now. I mean, she's got the baby and Coin and her Mom and now Peeta and she really just can't catch a break.

Fun times!

And the summary of the chapter is as follows: Peeta and Katniss play a game of charades with the doctors; Peeta did some light stretching; the doctors flee in terror; Katniss cries; Haymitch cries; Rye is somewhere in the next chapter; Gale is wandering aimlessly; Prim is conversing with Legolas forming an alliance because Coin is trying to travel to Middle Earth to bring Sauron back, her long lost uncle.

Quote from the next chapter comes from . . . Dr. Riley!

"His head might be a mess of cats, but damn it he still loves you."

Lots of love,

AC