Flip-out time! WOO! Katniss didn't lose her memory! The world isn't going to explode! Peeta is beautiful! Oh wait…You guys already knew that. This chapter is dedicated most sincerely to one of my reviewers who reviewed anonymously, but went by Buzzkill17. Thank you so much for what you said. That is honestly an amazing complement when you said I was as good if not better than Suzanne Collins herself. That really blew me away. Thank you really truly for your amazing support! Love ya!

oOo

All of the air went wooshing out of my lungs at that precise moment, making little spots appear in my eyes. My legs kind of failed under me and I slid down to my knees, forehead resting against the metal railing. No matter how hard I tried, my brain just wouldn't comprehend the fact that Katniss was okay. She hadn't lost her memory.

Katniss had stopped trying to speak now, and her eyelids slid back over the hazy gray of her irises, but that was okay with me. As long as I knew she was okay…

Prim was grinning happily at me, and back down at her older sister, tears in her sparkly slate-blue eyes. Ms. Everdeen had pretty much the exact same look on, and it was then I could see the similarity between the two Everdeens.

"Come one, Primrose." She sniffed. "Let's go to breakfast."

Prim, still smiling ear-to-ear, allowed her mother to put her arm around her, and guide the fourteen-year-old out.

I knew their motives. All they wanted when they stood at the bedside was that Katniss would be all right. They had fulfilled their purpose and now they wanted to leave me and her alone. That was fine. I wanted no one to witness my breakdown.

I didn't even watch as they left. My eyes, wide and unblinking, were trained on the perfect shape of Katniss' face. Curved cheekbones, long black eyelashes, familiar rosy lips opened slightly as she slept.

Not daring to take my eyes away from her face, I used my free hand to slip her fingers into mine. They were unresponsive, but were encouragingly warm; a pulse could be felt in my fingertips. We had done it. We had gotten past one more obstacle meant to get in our way. I took this as a positive sign; maybe we were meant to be, after all. The forces that work against us are losing.

Katniss mumbled something incomprehensible. Judging by her unmoving face and hands, I would have originally thought she was talking in her sleep. But this time I only leaned in closer to hear what she was trying to say. My ear was barely an inch from her lips when I could understand her more clearly. Though, what she seemed to be saying didn't make any sense.

Katniss took a small breath in between words. "Stew…whimsy…"

Stew whimsy? I frowned, drawing back. I didn't ask her to repeat herself though, because she opened her mouth to speak again.

"Ham…meat…pearl…"

I was even more confused than before. I'm pretty sure I heard the last word right; pearl. I rolled the shiny bead in my fingers and gave Katniss a funny look, hoping she was too out to notice.

But her eyes were narrowed finely, not in a look of annoyance, but in exhaustion. She took more effort and energy this time to speak. "Hamme…pearl." Her voice was slurred.

"Oooh…" I couldn't help but feel stupid. Then my expression changed into a contrite look. I bent down carefully over her and wrapped my hand around hers, the pearl sliding between our fingers. Then I lowered my face near hers and, careful not to bother her bandages, kissed her cheek. "There you go. Your pearl." My voice was no louder than a whisper.

The corners of her mouth twitch up into a tired smile.

Keeping my hand around hers, I pulled back slightly and looked at her worn-out face. "What did you mean by 'stew whimsy'?"

Katniss slowly blinked her eyes and even though she was still half out of it, her expression was a familiar 'Katniss' expression. "Stew whimsy?" She mumbled.

"Yeah, what did you mean by—?"

She murmured something, and I bent closer, a sign to repeat.

"Stay with me." Her voice made it sound as if every breath took all the energy in her. Katniss closed her eyes again, but not before muttering, "Smarty…"

My face split into a grin. That was the Katniss I was looking for.

The rush of the past few hours, mixed in with the ecstasy of Katniss being back to normal created a feeling of stupidity. My head was slow, and I couldn't stop smiling. Though tears of joy streamed down my face. Things were okay. I didn't feel like dying any more.

Katniss slept some more, thin fingers still wrapped around the pearl. I stayed right at her side, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest. It was oddly comforting, feeling the steady pulse in her hand, the uniform breaths whistling in and out of her mouth.

At one point, about maybe 7:50, there was a quick knock on the door. It opened and the doctor strolled in.

I looked up and nodded my head as a greeting.

"Hello, Mr. Mellark." The doctor gave me a small smile and took a seat in his little plastic wheelie chair. "It seems as though Katniss is doing well."

I nodded a second time. "Yeah. She's good." I couldn't help but feel a little guilty. Dr. Tyrwhitt was the one that kept telling us that the odds of Katniss losing her memory were slim, but we didn't listen.

If the doctor wanted to do the whole 'I told you so' scene, he didn't show it. His head bent over a clipboard full of yellow record papers. He flipped the top one over the edge and scanned the second. "Her vital signs were perfectly normal. Her average heartbeat was 125 beats per minute. Oxygen levels perfectly average…" He mumbled slightly to himself, checking the rest of the records. "Everything is normal. Now," He looked up and assumed his professional discussing position, crossing his legs and leaning forwards on them. "Let's discuss her temporary living arrangements. Were you two okay with the room we gave you in the MI wards? Or was it too…" The doctor paused, an amused look on his creased face. "…extreme for her conditions?"

It was. It was very extreme. I tried to make it seem as though I only agreed with him a little bit, so I shrugged. "No much, but now that we don't have to worry about her 'mental health' anymore…" I put emphasis in 'mental health', hoping the doctor knew what I meant.

If he did, he didn't show it. This doctor was very good at hiding emotions. "I'll reassign her to a different room adjacent to the MI wards."

He stood up and began fiddling with the empty bag hanging on a hook, which use to drip clear liquid into Katniss' IV. He unscrewed one in and taped it against her skin, and went to go sit back down. "Her current condition, however, is without a doubt fragile."

I subconsciously rubbed my thumb along the back of Katniss still hand, not looking at the doctor, but still listening.

"Her head bandages were only precaution, covering the wound so the glue could dry. It would be fine if the bandages were removed." Dr. Tyrwhitt inspected the very back paper. "But she is not to be left alone standing for one second. Are you listening to me, Mr. Mellark?"

I glanced up, startled by the change of volume. "Yes, sorry doctor. I'm listening." I actually made an attempt to pay attention, though there were other things on my mind.

"She cannot be left alone for one second. She could black out—which isn't unusual in her case—and hit her head, causing series damage to her newly tender nerve. Not one second is she to be out of your sight." The doctor used a tone that impersonated one of a mother and young child. "Shower, walking, brushing her teeth. Any place she has to stand up. For the next week or so she will be extremely unstable and will be susceptible to blacking out, speech slurred, and failure of walking. She can be alone when she's lying down, but only that. Do you understand, Mr. Mellark? This is important."

I nodded my head at him to show him I heard him that time. In the very back of my head there remained the issue of showering, but I ignored it for now. "Yes, sir. I understand."

"That's good…" Dr. Tyrwhitt rubbed his temples as if the discussion wore him out. "The room she will be relocated to will be more independent than your last. It is just like a normal room, except meant for the specific use of room-arrest. There will be the metal box in the wall meals and clothes will come in. There will be a fully-equip bathroom, a closet, and a queen-sized bed."

When I frowned at the word "closet" the doctor clarified.

"Clothes for her will be 'ordered' from a provided catalog." He stood up and checked Katniss vital signs a third time. "We only sent the white ones last time because they were especially assigned for the MI wards patrons."

I nodded, wanting to be alone again. The doctor's presence was growing old.

He knew this. "Her morphling drip ran out, so she should be good to go." He swiftly pulled out the needle in Katniss' arm and dropped it into a little orange box on the wall. "And instead of wheeling her entire bed into the new room, she will use a wheelchair."

This might be a little hard, seeing as how Katniss looked to be out cold. "Once she wakes up?"

The doctor gave her sleeping body a small glance. "No, she should be okay to sit upright."

I nodded, and helped him with getting Katniss into the mobile chair. It was hard to ignore the places where her skin made my nerves feel like live wires.

"Mr. Mellark, if you would like to grab Katniss' belongings," The doctor motioned to the large zippy bag hanging on the wall, and grabbed the handles of the wheelchair.

I really wanted to push it myself; to have something to lean onto, making sure Katniss wasn't just an illusion. I wanted to be closer to her. But I did what the doctor told me and slug Katniss' bag of personal items over my shoulder and followed them out the door.

It was a lovely walk through the hospital, passing numerous signs and wards. That was sarcasm, of course. I was itching to get this all done with, to be alone finally. To give my poor brain a break from meltdowns.

We walked past the Mental Instability Wards, until we passed a sign that read: "Long-Term". It was there we made a shallow turn and we were the first door on the left. Like the doctor had promised, it was as average as you could get.

When the doctor parked the wheelchair right next to the sizeable bed, I made my way over to the front of the wheelchair to help Katniss get out.

I laid her gently down on top of the covers, minding her injured head. She groaned slightly when I did, and her head flopped onto the opposite shoulder like a loose-jointed doll.

The doctor folded up the wheelchair, and went over the metal box in the wall that was crammed into the corner. Above that were two familiar-looking buttons. Dr. Tyrwhitt pointed to them. "You recognize these?"

I nodded, bored.

"Red one is for emergency, white one and speaker is for service." He rubbed his hands together in finality. "Anything else you need before I leave?"

I exchanged a glance with Katniss, who was still dead to the world—no surprise there. I contemplated his offer. Then answered, "If I am going to be staying here as long as Katniss does, I'll need food and clothing as well."

"Of course!" The doctor looked pleased. "Food and clothes will be sent to you as well. Is that all?"

I nodded, really wanting for him to go.

"Call if you need anything, Mr. Mellark." He nodded politely to Katniss, and left.

Sighing in relief, my eyes slid away from the closed door to Katniss, where she was dozing lightly, still in her flimsy hospital gown. My heart was knotted up so tightly in my chest; I wasn't sure what to do. Katniss was too out-of-it and drugged up fully realize the extent of what happened. She had made it. My mockingjay had made it.

I walked over by the bed and knelt down next to her. I didn't want to get in bed yet, just stay by her and be close, breathing the air she breaths. My lips brushed against every part of her I could reach; her forehead, her wrist, her shoulder, her neck. I needed to be sure she wasn't going to vanish right before my eyes.

When Katniss didn't wake up for another thirty minutes, I decided to sit next to her on the bed. She didn't wake up when the bed tipped; she remained motionless and quiet. I yearned to wrap my arms around her, but the thought of her head wound stopped me from doing anything.

Over the stretch of an hour, I grew tired. But I couldn't fall asleep. Not when Katniss was here with me. Yawning quietly, I leaned back on the bed and brushed a strand of black hair away from her shoulder. She looked so beautiful when she slept. You would have never guessed all the crap she had just been through. Without much thought, I leaned over and pressed my lips tenderly on hers.

With a small breath, Katniss' eyes fluttered open and she stared at me. It was obvious she was much more awake than she was before.

Her gaze didn't break from mine; she just kept gazing at me as if for the first time, without saying anything at all.

The way she looked at me, the little wrinkle in between her eyebrows and how the corners of her mouth twitched upwards in a serene smile… It made my throat clog up.

With a shaky breath, I reached over and let the tip of one of my fingers just barely brush her cheekbone.

Katniss shivered under my contact. I had thought she had no energy to move or anything, but apparently, she did. Her arms stretched towards me.

A quiet sob bubbled from my throat and I pulled her to me, wrapping my arms around her. For a second I didn't care about her head damage, and there was my heart beating like mad, but that turned out to be a mistake.

I felt her wince against me, accompanied by a pained gasp.

Horrified, I pulled away from her. "I'm sorry, Katniss! Are you okay?"

She shook her head a little, and, still panting, said, "No, I'm just lightheaded." Her eyes locked back onto mine. "I—" But she didn't finish. At first, Katniss bit her lips and looked at me, but suddenly her arms caught the front of my shirt and pulled my down over her.

My brain didn't have any time to react before she kissed me. It was brief and fleeting, but the moment made me choke.

I held Katniss tightly to my chest and wept into her hair. "You have…no idea how hard those five hours were, Katniss." I couldn't express what exactly I was feeling. My lungs had shrunken to the size of peas, but my heart made up for that. "It was as if I was awaiting my own death."

Katniss seemed to be crying, too. Her fists didn't even try to loosen from the material of my shirt. The side of her face was pressed to my shoulder, sobs trembling her body.

Careful, as not to hurt her any further, I adjusted my arms around her. One was wrapped all the way around her waist, hand curled around the opposite side of her. The other was resting securely on her back, fingers tickling the back of her hair.

I pressed my face into her neck. "I love you, Katniss… I was so scared I'd lost you…" My words were so muffled and quiet, I wasn't sure she heard me.

She did. "But you have me now. I'm all yours. I promise."

That totally helped my sanity. Yet more tears flowed down my cheeks, and I was about to say something when a near-silent moan interrupted me.

Pulling away, I saw Katniss' head scrunched up in anguish. When she saw me looking, worried, at her, she took a shaky breath. "Headache…"

Despite my yearnings, I slid her off my chest and set her gently back down on the bed. "I'm sorry." I wasn't sure what else to say.

She didn't answer. A fresh tear wormed its way out of her eye, and fell sideways onto the pillow. When I made a move to comfort her, she just held up a shaking finger. "Hold on…" She whispered through clenched teeth. "It's going away."

I held my breath for another few minutes, while Katniss' face slowly melted back to normal. When her eyes finally reopened and she looked at me, I tried to smile. "The doctor wasn't kidding when he said 'don't overexert yourself'."

"That-that wasn't really it, though." Katniss was frowning, and she allowed me to pull her head onto my lap. "It wasn't like the day before yesterday when-when…" She inhaled. "It's really weird. Like…the more I try to remember something and the more I try to think, the more it hurts."

"That looked painful." I cupped her face with a hand and, upon realizing what she said, laughed quietly. "What were you thinking about?" Whatever it was must have been pretty intense for her to be in that much agony.

"Don't…make me remember…" She bit her lip, trying to ward off the memory, but it obviously didn't work. A pink haze appeared on her cheeks.

I raised my eyebrows at her. But instead of pushing it, I bent over and pressed my lips against hers. "I'm glad you're okay."

A small smile stretched across Katniss' mouth. "Mm… So am I." And she pulled me down for another kiss.

oOo

As you people can probably tell, that chapter was excruciatingly hard to end, hence the 3,000 words in it. I hope it wasn't too disappointing (I kind of felt as though it was)! There will be more fluff in the next chapter, hopefully, so keep your eye out!