Not having internet 24/7 has done some good for me. Instead of laughing my butt off IMing my friends all the time (thank you, Rachel and Sophie) and attempting to talk French to others and failing miserably (Michelle) I am actually typing. Hehehe… But anyways here is Chapter 91. :DD Read and review! Oh, and I almost forgot. To Ali, whose birthday I missed. Happy birthday, and this chapter is dedicated to you! Sorry it couldn't be out a few days ago. !D Hope it was awesome!

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I flopped on my stomach onto my bed after showering. Not an hour before, I had found Katniss' mother and brought her back to the room, and left them. So now I was just lying in my room thinking of what to do. Maybe Katniss would appreciate fresh-baked cookies. Or maybe I could paint her something for her new room.

I sighed heavily. Things were boring when nothing life-threatening was happening. But then I nearly slapped myself. It's not good to ever say that, or even think it, because you never know what might happen. I was just very thankful Katniss was alive and knew what she had to do. Dead and uncertain is never a good thing.

Subconsciously shaking my wet hair, I got up and opened the bottom drawer of my wardrobe. Inside was where I kept all of my art supplies: a foldable easel, canvas, paints, a few trays, jars, and pencils, and some half-used sketchbooks. I pulled out the easel, a blank canvas, a few pots of paint, and a tray. After setting up the easel, I sat down on my bed and began mixing a variety of thick paint onto the tray.

But what should I paint? The first image that popped into my mind was obviously Katniss. She was always the first thing that came to me when I thought. But I had so many paintings of her; I was almost convinced there wasn't any more ways to draw her. I had sleeping, hunting, climbing trees, running down the hallway with a frightened look on her face, and some of her just standing in a field of whiteness. I also had a very special one of her holding little Alexis, but I never showed that one to her, and never plan to.

I stuck the end of my brush in between my teeth and thought. Every painting I had done, I had some sort of idea, a picture in my mind that didn't move. Every picture captured a moment that I wanted to remember forever, or just one I wanted to have down out of my head. That was where I went wrong.

Closing my eyes, I let memories flood over me the way they want to. Whatever they were, however they planned. And with those reminiscences floating around in my head, I began to draw, eyes still closed.

A wry smile stretching across her face, twinkling eyes, small fingers encased with mine, a smear of blood on the cave floor, the upstairs of Katniss' house in the Victors' Village, screams filling the night air. All of these recollections bubbled inside of me, alive and flourishing. Now images flashed faster across my mind and my brush danced on the surface of my canvas. Black hair fanned out on the pillow as she slept, a bubbling pot of homemade stew in the arena, lips pressed against mine, hearts pounding, heads whirling, breath quickening as we faced the unknown, muffled cries, and—Silence.

I lowered the wooden brush and slowly opened my eyes. But the painting—if I could even call it that—was awful. All of that raw emotion and time I spent pouring pretty much my whole soul onto the canvas, and all I got was a piece of paper covered with rough globs of dripping paint, smeared with other splatters. Even if I squinted, searching deep within the colors, all I saw was a mess unworthy of my wall.

In utter revulsion, I ripped the picture from the easel and shoved it into my closet, getting little drops of blue and green on the floor. If painting wasn't going to turn out the way I wanted it to, maybe baking would, but I seriously doubted it.

Checking the clock, I found out it was ten 'till noon. If I wanted to go to lunch at all, now was the time. But I really wasn't hungry. But Katniss would want me to not starve myself. But then she would be such a hypocrite, since she rarely ate herself. I sighed, nearly laughing at the war that was going on in my brain. Maybe lunch would make me get a hold of myself, but I inwardly doubted it. Taking a quick peek in the lopsided mirror to make sure I didn't look like a troll (I did), I ambled on out my room and to the cafeteria.

It wasn't very crowed today, which surprised me. Normally 12:00 was the peak time when everyone would come back from their jobs outside to eat. Their first stop, of course, would be the Office. There, Hunters would drop their catches off; Gatherers would deposit the right types of plants into the edible or non-edible bins; and Scavengers would report their finding there as well. But since the lunch bell for them rang at about 11:15, so the workers should have been to lunch by now. Instead, the cafeteria was eerily quiet. I only recognized a scarce few people eating. Thankfully, Finnick was one of them, sitting next to a pregnant Annie.

Finnick and I really never had any time to "bond" during the Quell. We knew each other, he saved my life, we spoke occasionally, but with the weight of each others' imminent death kept us from knowing one another very well. But now that we know it is relatively safe to assume no one is going to die any time soon, we have been getting to know each other better. If there was anyone in this clandestine district to talk to about concerns for Katniss, it would probably be Finnick. Either him or Primrose, but no offense to her, it is harder to connect to a fourteen-year-old girl than a 20-something year old guy.

I shuffled across the room awkwardly, trying to avoid the numerous stares I was getting from the crowd around me. It was obvious the news of Katniss condition had gotten out some way or another. Even Finnick and Annie seemed to have noticed me coming and were watching intently as I sat in front of them.

"Mind if I join you?" Maybe it was a bit rude of me to interrupt his and Annie's time alone…Okay a lot rude, but there was not exactly going back now, was there? "Sorry if I'm-I'm butting in or anything."

"It's fine." Finnick stood up straight and shook his slightly-overgrown copper hair out of his eyes. "How is Katniss?"

Should I explain the whole operation ordeal to them or should I just keep it short and sweet? "Er…"

Finnick must have taken my hesitation wrong or something because he bent close to Annie and whispered something in her ear. She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, stood up, and walked off. After she was mildly out of ear shot, he turned back to me and resumed his usual haughty air. It must be something about Annie that numbs the arrogance in him… "So what is it?"

There was something about this 'man-to-man' time with Finnick Odair talking about Katniss' health issues that I found slightly disturbing, but I shrugged it off. "The attack she had a bit ago scared the living crap out of all of us, and the doctors came into her room and said she needed an operation to fix it." My voice was a little too fast to be construed as casual.

Finnick arched an eyebrow. "Uh huh… Care telling us what the operation is supposed to fix?"

I didn't want to know who 'us' was. Maybe he was storing a little two-inch-tall man named José who had a toupee and a French Accent in his front pocket. Again, I shrugged it off. "There is a certain wacky nerve-thing in Katniss' brain that has supposedly gone haywire. That nerve was triggered by extreme stress or something. I am not sure I get it, but we have decided to get the operation, which is hypothetically going to reverse the trauma and make her all better again."

I watched as Finnick chewed on his lip, looking infuriatingly thoughtful. How anyone lived with his is a wonder to me. Finally, he looked curiously back at me. "That doesn't sound completely catch-free."

I hadn't wanted to think about the possibility, but I guess that's what it came to… "The doctor said that there was a chance part of Katniss life would be wiped from her memory. Starting from when her stress levels began to escalate."

"And…" For someone life Finnick, it would surprise me that he wasn't the quickest thinker. "When exactly do you think that would that be?"

I rolled my eyes and said sarcastically, "Let me think. Maybe when she volunteered herself for the Games in the place of her little sister. That would be a place to start."

"If the doctors accidentally erased her memories from then, she would still be completely oblivious to all that has happened with the Capitol, and-and the Games and…." The look of pure understanding when he got it was priceless. Finnick's' eyebrows came from being scrunched together to shooting up into his hair line. "Oh."

I really didn't want to linger on that particular thing too long, so I swallowed my pain down and attempted to look normal. "So we have a few days until the operation. Today is for Katniss to be with her Mother and Prim, tomorrow would be with everyone she has gotten to know in the past year, and the last day would just be me and her."

"So it sounds as though you two have pretty much given up all hope that her memory won't be obliterated. Nice to see everyone is being optimistic in these times."

It was hard not to be annoyed at him. I sighed. "It isn't that we have given up hope, Finnick. In fact the chance of that memory lapse actually happening is very slim. But we are assuming the worst just in case it does happen, we would already have said our goodbyes."

"I see…" I could see a cheek muscle of Finnicks' twitch. "So what is happening tomorrow?"

"I haven't exactly got all of that worked out." I frowned slightly. "We got the doctors' permission to have Katniss in a different room for then, but I still don't know what time or where or even how."

"Well, let me know when you do, okay?" Finnick stood, scooping up his empty tray while he was at it. His tone wasn't exactly final, though.

I stood up with him, only a tiny bit discomfited. "Is Annie doing okay? With Jace and all?"

"Yeah. He's growing nicely. We got an estimate birth date." To my surprise, almost all of Finnick's superior manner melted away and his sea-green eyes shone with pride. "Big, strong baby boy just like his father."

Of course. I resisted the urge to snort. Instead, I tried to look happy for him. "Well, congratulations. I am sure he will turn out just fine."

"Yes…" Something about the topic of babies triggered something far away in Finnick's mind. "Have you heard the news of Project Rebuild?"

That boosted my mood a bit. "Yes, I have! They started on 12, I think."

"They're almost done, too. Maybe another few weeks to a month. Then they will start moving people by hovercraft there according by rankings."

Where did he find out all this stuff? "A month? That soon?" The awe was obvious on my face.

"Yup." His attention was somewhere else though, eyes raking the room. "That's what I heard."

"Thank you, Finnick." I stood up a little straighter and nodded my head towards him. "I will let you know the details of Katniss' thing as soon as I can. Tell Annie I said 'hi' for me!" And I began walking out of the cafeteria. I had something to tell Katniss when I got back.

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I am so very sorry (don't hurt me) for the wait on that chapter. Like I said, lack of internet is apparent in my house. :D Review, review, review!