A/N: And we're back for another dramatic installment! Woo! Hey, Rye's in this one! I do love him.

But I made him cry, so . . . yeah . . .

This chapter is another one of my favorites, if only because of Peeta's very dark thoughts and his new bestie Death. I love his monologue. Love it. If only because it's creepy.

As for last chapter, I'm thrilled that all of you liked the flashback! It is definitely one of my favorite chapters. For those of you who are wanting a dramatic, "Peeta completely breaks down moment," don't worry, that moment shall come. That's Chapter 19. For those of you who are wanting some happy PK moments when Peeta is actual real and not in dream form, that shall come too. In like Chapter 21.

So there's a light at the end of the tunnel. And for those of you who are loving the angst, there's plenty of that still to come!

Oh, and I love you guys. Just want to throw that out there. So, consider it thrown.

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.

Rye: Hey! Why are you making me cry?

Peeta: Yeah, seriously. It's not because of me, is it?

Me: Um . . . you have some brotherly bonding time?

Peeta: And I make him cry.

Me: You make Katniss cry, too. Hell, you made me cry.

Peeta: Oh, wow.

Haymitch: That's impressive.

Katniss: We were beginning to think you had no soul.

Me: Oh, I have a soul . . . it's just buried deep, deep, way deep down.


Chapter 15: Dear Agony

Leave me alone, God let me go

I'm blue and cold, black sky will burn

Love tear me down, Hate lift me up

Just turn around, there's nothing left

Somewhere far beyond this world, I feel nothing anymore


"Alright, what happened?"

Dr. Riley stands in front of us, her arms folded across her chest as her eyes examine us critically. Sitting down in front of her, curled up in the chair as much as I can be, I feel as though I'm being scolded by my mother. Humorously, Haymitch seems just as uncomfortable, but I'm unable to smile at my mentor. It's hard for me to smile these days.

"Well?" she questions sharply. "Come on, give me the story."

"Didn't the doctors tell you?" I ask.

"Honey, after all these years, I've learned that there's always two sides to a story," she replies. "I'd like to hear your side."

I take a deep breath. "Peeta woke up while I was sitting with him. Everything seemed okay. He was detached and distant, but he wasn't a threat. He asked me to fill him in about all that he'd missed. I was able to talk to him about everything without much of a reaction from him, except when I mentioned Coin." I pause, hesitating. What if I tell the entire truth and Dr. Riley says that I can't see Peeta anymore? What if she deems it too dangerous?

As if sensing my thoughts, Dr. Riley looks over the tops of her glasses, her eyebrows raised. "Katniss, I need to know everything. Don't hold back."

"When I mentioned Coin and what I thought of her and her motives . . . particularly toward me . . . he didn't have the best reaction," I admit reluctantly.

"He reacted violently?"

"No, not really," I disagree. "But . . . his reaction promised violence. His eyes narrowed and he just looked so . . . deadly." Even now, hours later, I still can't believe the honesty in his violent eyes. Peeta could kill Coin, quite easily and most likely with very little or no guilt.

I don't know whether to be terrified or reassured.

Dr. Riley nods, as if this makes sense, and asks me to continue. I describe the rest of the encounter to her, focusing on when he started to get agitated. I tell her how as I continued to talk about the baby, he grew more and more angry and tense until he eventually snapped.

"It all happened so quickly," I say in a whisper, half of my mind still trapped in the replay of the incident. "One second he was entirely still and then the next he's screaming about how unfair it is. Then the doctors rushed in and it just went to hell. Peeta started attacking them because they kept trying to hold him down." My anger returns as I remember the stupidity of the doctors' actions. "It's not his fault that he hurt them," I tell her defiantly. "They shouldn't have rushed him like that!"

"I know," Dr. Riley nods. "Believe me, I told them all that they were idiots."

I nod in satisfaction. "Anyway, Peeta kept struggling and fighting against them. He kept shouting that he didn't know anything." My voice breaks. "He kept saying how he would never tell them anything. He wasn't going to betray me. He was protecting me."

"Well of course, girl," Dr. Riley says exasperated. "That boy loves you more than life itself. His head might be a mess of cats, but damn it he still loves you."

My heart lifts a little at her words. "You really think so?"

Dr. Riley sighs, shaking her head as if I'm missing the obvious. I probably am. She squats down in front of me, resting her hands on my knees, and looks up into my eyes in her grandmotherly way. "Sweetie, that man lying there in that room loves you more than his own life. It may not seem like it right now, but he's the very same man you fell in love with . . . he just grew up. He's not a boy anymore. He's a man. More to the point, he's a man who has been through more pain than anyone should ever endure, and for reasons that are as pointless as they are cruel. He's still yours. Yes, he might be a bit more violent now, but isn't that perfectly reasonable given what he's gone through?"

I nod and she smiles gently. "Now, you've got to see his new personality as the same but with a few new quirks. Everyone changes as they get older, and Peeta did a lot of growing up in a very short space of time. Some of the quirks he'll probably hate as much as you do, but they're a part of him now. This violence is a part of him." Dr. Riley pauses, as if considering her next words carefully. "Now, I figure you've got two ways to see this new side of himself. One, is you can choose to ignore it and delude yourself into thinking that with enough time, he'll be the man you remember. I can tell you right now that is not gonna happen. Your second option is to accept this new part of him, and realize that it might actually come in handy. What you two will be asked to do will require more than wit and skill. It'll require breaking some morals that I think you and I both know Peeta wouldn't have originally been prepared to break."

"This violent side of him simply has to be tempered so that he applies it for good use, something that I think he's already proven today." I frown in confusion and Dr. Riley smiles. "He's still protecting you, didn't you hear him? Honestly, aside from flashbacks, I'm not too worried about his new penchant for violence because I have a feeling he'll simply use it to protect you and anyone else he cares about."

Slowly, as her words sink in, I realize the truth she speaks. All this time, I've been thinking that Peeta is a stranger to me. He's not. He's still Peeta; I've just got to be patient. I have to be there for him as he heals. I have to gently coax him out of this protective shell he's encased his heart in. Peeta is still in there. I just have to reach him. And yes, when I finally reach Peeta he will be different but not entirely. Like Dr. Riley said . . . he'll simply have a few new quirks.

Like willingly committing violence.

Yeah, that will take some getting used to.

"Okay," I nod, trying to focus my mind. "Do you have an idea what prompted the flashback in the first place?"

"I think we both know the answer to that," Dr. Riley retorts. "He was angry that he's missed so much of the pregnancy. From what you've told me, he would have been there for you every step of the way and loved every minute of it. The Capitol deprived him of that experience and he'll never get that time back. The Capitol stole that experience away from him, and in the process forced you to go through it on your own. It was most likely a mixture of anger and guilt."

"It's not fair." I repeat Peeta's words. "It's not fair."

"No, it's not," Dr. Riley agrees with a sigh. "But there's nothing we can do about that, so let's focus on what we can do. Now, I need you to remember, Katniss. Was there any forewarning? Was there some little tell that he was about to experience a flashback? It would be incredibly helpful if we could see these things coming. Maybe then we can eventually prevent them. Talk him through it, you know?"

I nod as I rack my brain for some memory. "He got this look in his eye. It looked a little . . . unstable." Dr. Riley nods as if this was a normal reaction and I try to think harder, think of something more telling. "And he tensed up . . ."

"Maya," Haymitch suddenly speaks up, looking at the wolf at my feet. "She knew it was coming."

"Really?" Dr. Riley eyes Maya with interest. "Animals have such acute senses, immensely stronger than humans. There's a very real possibility that Maya could help Peeta greatly."

Maya suddenly sits up proudly, like she knows how important she is. I smile as I trail a hand down her back. "She did help us both after the first Games," I admit. "You know, it was nice to just sit there with her."

Dr. Riley nods as if she understands completely. "Of course. I'd imagine it would be nice to have a companion who didn't judge you and ask stupid questions. Someone who just accepted you for who you were and loved you unconditionally."

"Yes," I say, somewhat dazed by her accurate deduction. "That's exactly it."

"Well, I'm not just a pretty face," she shrugs at my expression as a sly smile twists her lips. "Anyway, I think that Maya should be with Peeta as much as possible. If she can sense when he's about to experience a flashback, not only will we know what's coming, but eventually, when Peeta's recovered more, he'll be able to realize it too. Maybe he'll be able to control it."

The idea that Maya could be so beneficial to Peeta's recovery is a relief. This, at least, gives me some hint as to how I could help Peeta. It was definitive. I didn't have to wonder. Maya could help Peeta. Now I had a modicum of a plan.

"That's good," I say with a slight smile. "That's really good."

"Yes," Dr. Riley agrees. "We'll have to see how it goes, of course. But I really do think Maya could help Peeta greatly."

"How are his injuries?" Haymitch suddenly asks. "The kid was really moving there for a minute. Didn't screw himself up more in the process, did he?"

Dr. Riley frowns slightly. "Some of his stitches were torn," she begins. "Honestly, that's all we can physically see. His ribs are fine, surprisingly. Nothing got jarred too much. But I would imagine he'll wake up hurting more than he was previously. His episode would have easily strained his already strained muscles, and don't get me started on the ligaments and tendons in his shoulders . . ." She shakes her head, and sighs. "Long story short, he'll be fine. Just a little more achy than normal."

We all fall into silence for a brief moment before I hesitantly lock eyes with Dr. Riley. "Can I see him?"

"Sweetie, I wish I could send you back in there with no qualms, but I simply can't," she apologizes, looking genuinely sorry. "Give him some time. Until he wakes up and we see how he reacts, I'm not comfortable with you in there. He might wake up, see you, and then fall right back into another episode. His body can't take the stress."

I sigh in resignation, easing to my feet, my shoulders hunched in defeat. My legs carry me to the glass window that looks into Peeta's room. He looks so fragile. All physical evidence of his previous strength has abandoned him. His skin is still tinted with a variety of bruised colors. Various cuts and gashes are bandaged in white linen, starkly contrasting with his already pale skin. His blonde curls are lank with sweat.

Behind me, I hear Haymitch and Dr. Riley carry on a quiet conversation, but I don't bother trying to follow. I'm too focused on Peeta. My memory of his flashback is still fresh in my mind, and I remember distinctly how quickly and efficiently he'd moved, despite the pain his reaction must have caused. I remember the fierceness of his gaze as he vowed not to betray me, to always protect me.

The Capitol may have broken his body, but his spirit remains untarnished.

As long as his spirit is strong, I know that he can recover. I have to believe it. I must believe it. Peeta will come back to me. Just as he promised in the arena. I simply have to be patient. I have to fight for him, because at the moment he's too weak to fight for himself. It's my turn to be the rock. It's my turn to be his steadying presence. It's my turn to take care of him.

I'm pulled from my thoughts when I feel a hand on my shoulder. "Katniss, did you hear me?" Dr. Riley asks in concern.

"No," I admit. "Sorry. What did you say?"

"I'm going to send Rye into Peeta's room," she says. "I want to see how he reacts to someone other than you. Someone he still cares about a great deal. I'm hoping that we might get Peeta to open up a little."

I frown, automatically wary of this idea. "Isn't it too soon?" I argue, glancing back at Peeta's prone form. Random bits of my nightmares flit through my mind at a rapid pace. I try not to shudder. "Shouldn't we let him try to sort things out? We can't push him this early."

"Katniss, the longer we leave him to his thoughts, the more lost to us he might become." Dr. Riley's expression is sympathetic, but firm. I know that I can't win this argument. "We won't push too far, but there's no way to tell how he will react to certain situations if we don't test him."

"He's not some experiment," I retort angrily. "He's been through too much already. I don't need you or anyone else making him feel like he just traded one cell for another."

"Doc's right, sweetheart," Haymitch pipes up, though his expression is grim. "We've got to give him a little push. It's not like we're going to make him talk. If Rye goes in there and Peeta doesn't say a word, we'll accept that. But like you said, he just got back from the Capitol. Do you really want to force everyone to stay away from him? Just on the off-chance he'll be able to pull himself out of it? That's not gonna happen, and you know it."

"I just don't want him to be in pain," I whisper, pleading with them.

"That's not gonna happen, either," Haymitch retorts softly. "You know it and I know it. I know you're trying to protect him, Katniss."

"Then let me."

"Ten minutes," Dr. Riley suddenly interrupts. "Rye has ten minutes, and then he leaves unless Peeta asks him to stay. Deal?"

I bite my lip, thinking. I know that it's the best deal I'm going to get from Dr. Riley. I also know that she's going to do it her way, despite what I say to the contrary. "Deal."

"Thank you." Dr. Riley squeezes my shoulder gently. "I know this is hard for you, Katniss."

I nod in reply, though my eyes never leave Peeta's still form. Dr. Riley leaves the room and within the next second, Rye is entering Peeta's room. She must have had him waiting outside. It irks me that she was going to do things her way despite my protests, but I know that at heart, Dr. Riley cares about Peeta. She wants him to get better, and I grudgingly admit that she knows more about how to do that than I do.

Peeta doesn't stir when Rye enters the room or when he takes a seat at his bedside. Rye looks as lost as I currently feel, and my heart aches for the older Mellark. He has been hurting just as much as I have, and I don't envy the fact that Rye saw where Peeta was kept. I don't want to know what horrors he saw.

"Coin has been asking about you," Haymitch says. Though he's talking to me, both of us continue to stare into Peeta's room as the conversation continues. "Wants you to start Mockingjay duties again."

"Yeah, I might have run into Plutarch earlier," I reply absently. "I think I'm permanently on his bad side now."

"Sounds like you're really torn up about it."

"Oh, yes. My heart is breaking."

In the reflection of the glass, I see the corners of Haymitch's mouth twitch. "Well," he says. "Thought you might want to know that Coin is wanting to send you out to the districts. Wants you to really play it up for the people."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"That's what I told her. I think she has a hearing problem."

"I'm not leaving him, Haymitch. She can't do anything to me right now, and she knows it. Despite what she may like to think, I have the power. And now that we have Peeta, she can't use him to her advantage." I pause to glance briefly at Haymitch. "I know that we'll have to watch our backs. That's nothing new. And I know that in a few months, after the baby is here, we'll have to come up with a plan on how to deal with her."

"But until then?"

My eyes narrow. "Until then, she's just going to have to wait. Peeta is my priority. Besides, when he's recovered, something tells me that he will have a say in how we deal with her."

"I think we should just kill her."

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes and wondering when it became acceptable to plot another human being's death and be perfectly okay with it. "That's one option," I admit, refusing to agree with him just yet.

I refocus my attention on Rye and Peeta. Rye is speaking softly so I only catch every other word, but it still doesn't make much sense. He must simply be rambling about nothing, merely filling the silence. After about five minutes, Rye laughs weakly before saying, "Hey, you want to hear a joke?" At Peeta's silence, he continues. "A man cheats on his girlfriend named Lorraine with a girl named Clearly. Suddenly, Lorraine dies. At the funeral, the man stands up and sings, 'I can see Clearly now, Lorraine is gone.'" Rye chuckles. "Get it? It's funny." Peeta still doesn't wake. "When something's funny, one typically laughs."

"I'm laughing on the inside," Peeta murmurs with his eyes still closed, causing Rye to startle before his grin threatens to split his face in two.

"I knew you were faking," Rye says smartly.

"The hell you did."

"Why are your eyes still closed?"

"Because I don't want to see your ugly face." Peeta's eyes flutter open to look at his brother. "I'm in enough pain as it is."

Rye's smile falls a little. "Yeah, well you're not looking too hot either, Mr. Blonde, Buff, and Beautiful."

"Sorry," Peeta retorts. "Torture really doesn't promote good looks. The prep team they gave me really had a time fixing me up anytime I had to do an interview."

My breath catches in my throat at his blunt statement, but even more so the ease in which it was said. It's like the events don't bother him. It's almost like he thinks it's normal. In the other room, Rye looks just as shocked as I am.

Hesitantly, he asks, "What about your prep team?"

"Dead." Peeta answers in an impassive voice. "Shot."

Rye swallows before venturing to ask, "How do you know?"

"Because it happened right in front of me," Peeta responds, his voice as impassive as before. "It was before my first interview with Caesar. They led me into a room. I'd just gotten out of the hospital. I thought I was being led into a Remake Room." I know that Peeta is reliving it all in his mind. A hazy look as entered his eye as his mind transports him back in time. "I walked into the room, and there they were. Portia, Amicus, Cassius, and Aurora. They were on their knees, all of them sporting bruises and cuts. The Peacekeepers holding them must have gotten bored before I arrived."

"So they beat them up to pass the time?" Rye asks with a mix of horror and shock.

Peeta is nonplussed.

"You know, most Peacekeepers aren't from the Capitol. They're actually from District 2. Just imagine Cato, but with the immunity of a Peacekeeper's uniform." Peeta's eyes narrow dangerously. "Like Cato, they're cruel and merciless . . . and they also have the attention span of a fruit fly. They get bored."

"So what happened?"

It's easy to see that Rye knows the answer. Peeta already gave him the answer. But Peeta is talking, slowly revealing just a sliver of the horror he experienced . . . and like the morbid, masochistic people we are . . . a sick part of our curiosity wants to know what happened.

"Each of them had a gun to their heads," Peeta replies coolly. "I walked in. They pulled the trigger. They allowed just enough time for me to see . . . for me to know that their deaths were my fault."

"It wasn't your fault," Rye argues. "You didn't pull the trigger."

"No, but I put the gun in their hands."

"Peeta, you can't do this to yourself. It's not your fault. None of this is your fault. The blame rests with the Capitol. You know that."

"Don't tell me what I know!" Peeta suddenly shouts, his eyes blazing. "You don't know anything! You've been safe here in 13 with Katniss! You've been here with my wife, doing my job, while I've been sitting in a cell completely useless!"

"Calm down, man." Rye tries to soothe with a calm voice, but it has no effect. "Seriously, dude, take a breath. I know you've been through a lot—"

"What do you know about what I've been through?" Peeta spits venomously. "You weren't the one rotting in a cell. A tomb. You weren't the one who was tortured for days on end for information that you didn't have. You know I died three times in there?" A manic light has entered Peeta's eyes, and I know that he's about to have a flashback.

I also know that it's too late to stop it. Still, I turn to Haymitch. "We've got to get the doctors," I tell him hurriedly, but my mentor is already moving toward the door, shouting for help.

My attention returns to Peeta, who is still spitting scathingly at his brother, hatred shining in his eyes. "And three times they brought me back. Just so they could torture me some more. Just so they could ask me the same damn questions that they knew I couldn't answer!" Tears cloud Rye's eyes, but Peeta is oblivious to the pain he's causing his brother. "So many times, I thought I was going to die. I wanted to die. I wanted to die just to make the pain stop. Because those three times I died, they were the happiest memories I have of that place."

Rye's tears spill over, sliding slowly down his cheeks as Peeta continues to explain in vicious detail just a smidgen of what he endured. My own tears have escaped me, blurring my vision and stinging my eyes. I don't bother wiping them away.

"What about Katniss?"

Peeta stops mid-rant. His eyes lose their angry, manic light and in its place is sadness so deep that it reaches his very soul. Worse is the guilt that swirls within the despair. Savage claws dig into my heart with a vice-like grip at the pain in his eyes, pain for which I am responsible.

"Katniss." Peeta chokes on my name. "I couldn't . . . I'd promised that I . . ." He struggles to find the words. "I'd promised that I would come back to her. It's what got me through every day. I just needed to remember her face. I just needed to remember that she needed me. I would think of the baby, how I couldn't leave her to raise our child alone. But . . . with each cut . . . each beating . . . each shock . . . it became harder and harder to remember, to remember why I wanted to live. Because when you're in that much pain . . . Death is your best friend."

"He calls to you," Peeta continues, almost in a trance. "Whispers things. Promises to end your pain. He promises you peace. In that place, in that torture chamber, Death is like an angel in Hell. He wants to save you . . . and so you let him."

"They're on their way," Haymitch says in a huff as he runs back into the room. "Is it worse?"

My sobs are his only answer.

"But Katniss . . ." Rye manages to speak through his tears.

"Katniss." Peeta repeats my name softly. "Everything was for her. Everything is always for her." Suddenly, he begins to tremble. "I-It's always for her. She's . . . she's my . . . my reason for . . . for . . ."

Peeta's trembles cease as the doctors finally rush into the room. They huddle around him, but he doesn't react at all. It's like he doesn't know that they're there. His sightless blue eyes simply stare at the glass wall, like he's looking right at me. Right through me.

"Haymitch," I whisper tremulously. "What's happening?"

Haymitch appears as shocked and disturbed as I am. "I don't know, sweetheart. I don't know."

We stare through the glass in silence, watching as the doctors try to get a response from Peeta. Rye is asked to leave the room, and he does so with a heavy heart, each of his steps seeming to require an immense amount of effort. I don't turn when I hear the door to the room open, or when I feel his presence on my right.

Wordlessly, I take his hand.

Rye, Haymitch, and I stand as silent sentinels for the next twenty minutes. Neither of us acknowledging the other, but sharing our mutual pain. Eventually, the door opens a second time and I know by the click of her heels that it's Dr. Riley.

With great effort, I tear my eyes away from Peeta, turning around to face the doctor. I wonder what she sees when she looks at me; a woman with tear-stained cheeks and red eyes, cradling her distended stomach in an attempt to hold herself together. Or, perhaps, does she see beyond that? Does she see the pain in my eyes? Does she see the determination despite that pain? What does she see?

"You need to rest, Katniss," she says as a greeting. "You need to be away from this stress."

I scoff. "Distance won't solve a damn thing."

"You might be surprised."

A part of my mind catalogs the weariness in my bones, the fatigue in my muscles, the heaviness of my eyelids. Sleep does sound like a blissful escape . . . but I can't possibly find that peace yet. Not with Peeta in this state.

"What's wrong with Peeta?" I ask forcefully. "What's happening?"

Dr. Riley sighs, knowing that her best bet of getting me to sleep will be answering my questions. "You could say that he's had another flashback," she replies. "Only this one isn't active. This one is much more internal. Peeta's retreated into his mind, to protect himself."

"How do we bring him back?" Haymitch demands. "Spill it, Doc."

"I'm afraid there's no real solution," Dr. Riley explains. "I don't have a guidebook giving me step by step instructions on how to treat him. A lot of this is trial and error—"

"—emphasis on the error—" Rye interrupts with a mutter.

Dr. Riley glares at him. "Yes, Mr. Mellark, right now there's been a lot of error," she admits. "But, no matter the consequences of your talk with your brother, it was very helpful."

"I sent him into a flashback!" Rye argues. "I made him relive everything!"

"Hardly," Dr. Riley retorts crisply. "It's sad, but true." Her expression melts into one of sympathy as she locks eyes with me. "Katniss, I was able to learn quite a lot from Rye's conversation with Peeta. It's painfully obvious that he's trying to make himself detached. Detachment means less pain. But Peeta is not an emotionless person. From what you've told me, he's always been very in tune with his emotions and the emotions of others. That's easily seen here. He simply isn't allowing himself to feel. It's a way of protecting himself."

Dr. Riley pauses, as if to see that I'm following her explanation. I nod, and she nods in return before continuing. "It's also incredibly obvious that you are still the center of his world. You are his reason for living. You're what got him through his capture, and you'll be the one to get him through his recovery. He loves you more than anything, and he knows that, but at the same time he also feels great guilt. For being absent when you needed him. I imagine that guilt will continue to be heavily involved in his recovery. Somehow, you're going to have to convince him that he did the right thing."

"Of course he did the right thing—" I argue incredulously. "He was protecting me."

"Yes, but at what cost?" Dr. Riley retorts. "He's missed these crucial months of your pregnancy. Left you here in 13, a completely foreign place, to deal with everything by yourself. He feels guilty that he wasn't there for you, but at the same time knows that he was doing the right thing by leaving you and allowing himself to be captured by the Capitol. It's a double-edged sword."

I close my eyes, taking a deep breath to try to calm my frazzled nerves. Of course Peeta would feel guilty for something that was completely beyond his control. Of course he would feel guilty for seemingly abandoning me, even when he knew that he didn't. He sacrificed himself. He knew that. I knew that.

And yet he still felt guilty. Because by saving my life, he left me to face the world without him. It was so typically Peeta that I didn't know whether to laugh, scream, or cry.

"Okay," I say softly. "I'll get it through his thick skull. Eventually."

"Good luck with that one," Haymitch mutters. "Kid is way too noble."

"Yeah, he should try to be selfish once in a while," Rye adds. "It would be good for him."

I almost smile. Almost.

"How do we snap him out of this?" I ask Dr. Riley. "Tell me."

"I'm afraid all you can do is try to talk him out of it," she answers, frustrated by how little she can help. "And I'm betting on you, sweetie."

I ignore how her words mirror Cinna's. I can't afford to rehash that wound. So I take a deep breath and wordlessly walk out the door. Maya follows and immediately launches into Peeta's room the minute I open the door. She takes up the space at the foot of the bed, facing the door, acting every inch the guardian she is.

I carefully sit on the edge of Peeta's bed, laying a gentle hand on his chest. His open, sightless eyes stare ahead of him, and I fumble my words as I try to find something to say. "Peeta." No reaction. "Peeta, come back to me. You promised."

Unfortunately, these words do not have the same effect as they did earlier. Peeta simply continues to stare.

"Peeta, you have to come back," I tell him softly. "I've been without you for too long. You can't leave me like this."

Still no reaction. Not even a twitch.

"Damn it, Peeta!" I hiss in anger and despair. "Are you seriously going to do this? Are you really going to give in, now? After all that you've gone through? Don't take the easy way out, Peeta. Don't do it!"

Nothing.

"Come on." I'm pleading now. I caress his bruised cheekbone. Sweep the some of his curls out of his eyes. Gently, I take his hand and place it on my stomach, and repeat the same words I spoke as the arena flamed around us. "I can't do this without you," I whisper. "I can't survive without you."

My words hang suspended in the air, hovering over us, as if they're slowly penetrating Peeta's subconscious. I wait with bated breath, my heart hammering in my chest as I clutch the tenuous hope floating within me. Seconds tick by as Peeta remains in this catatonic state, and just as I feel myself begin to despair . . . Peeta blinks.

"Katniss?" he questions confused. "What happened? What—"

I watch as the memory slowly comes back to him. I watch as he retreats into himself once more, forcing himself not to feel the emotion raging inside of him. "Peeta," I begin, but he cuts me off.

"You were never supposed to hear that," he says. "You were never supposed to know."

"It doesn't matter—"

"Yes it does."

"All that matters is that you're here," I say firmly. "You're with me."

"Then why do I feel as if that part of myself died in that cell?"

I don't have an answer.


Well . . . that was fun. Not a crazy, thrashing flashback this time. We got a frozen like a statue, trapped in the horrors of your own mind flashback. Can't decide which I like best. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm all for Peeta punching doctors and being a beast.

So! Dr. Riley has her words of wisdom. I do wish she were real and not a figment of my imagination. That would be awesome. And Rye cried. I seriously hate seeing someone so happy and light crying. That sucks. But, alas, it had to be done.

And Katniss . . . you've got to give her kudos.

The summary for the following chapter is as follows: Katniss cried again; Haymitch put on the daddypants; Dr. Riley proved that she's related to Gandalf; Peeta made Rye cry playing freeze tag; and Peeta is awesome at the quiet game and new besties with Death

Quote from the next chapter comes from . . . Peeta!

"Well woman, I'm madly in love with you. What do you expect?"

Lots of love,

AC

P.S. My midterms are this week. I hate midterms. They're worse than finals. At least with finals, they're, well, final. So, pretty, pretty, please review and sweeten my Monday. Pretty please. With ice cream. And whipped cream. And strawberries. And chocolate. Lots of it.