Sorry for the lack of an update! I just got a new job, and it's 6am-2pm Monday through Friday, so I've been pretty tired.

This chapter is pretty short, but I wanted to get it up. Enjoy!

I sit on the couch while Peeta cooks dinner, working on my breathing. I remember Dr. Aurelius telling me this is a good relaxation technique. When this doesn't work, I decide to turn on the television, hoping some ridiculous show would be on to distract me.

"-seems they're doing better than good. Protecting from any 'accidents', though."

Wait, what? I turn up the volume and sit up, staring intently at the TV. I hope this isn't what I think it is-

"Maybe a wedding for our Star-Crossed Lovers isn't so far-fetch anymore." The woman winks, and she somewhere…that's definitely not the Capitol. I look closer, my heart pounding, when I notice something much too familiar. The entrance to Victor's Village. "Oh no. No no no no." The show a clip of Peeta in the store, trying to be as secretive as possible as he puts the package on the belt. It's then that there's a knock on the door. Shit. I have to warn Peeta before he opens the door, but when I hear the door unlock I realize it's already too late.

"I'm here with Peeta Mellark at his home in District 12," he looks inside and I duck down, but he's already seen me. "And Katniss Everdeen! Sharing a house, I see." He winks at the camera.

I don't know what to do. There's no way I'm getting in front of that camera, but I don't want Peeta to have to deal with the reporter all alone. I look at the TV and see Peeta on it, trying to keep a straight face. There has to be some way to get them to leave. I look around, perhaps for a sharp object – cross that, that'll just bring more trouble.

"Well, there's no use in having both houses barely broken in. It's more convenient this way." Good answer, Peeta.

The reporter grins, which I know can't be good. "Oh, I bet it is. Now we won't expect any scandals, will we? And where is our Mockingjay? I know I caught a glimpse of her." He looks around inside the house – at least as far as he can from outside – and I try to duck. "Ah! There she is." He motions for me to come over.

I look to Peeta, but he looks lost. I can't just hide away, or there will definitely be some 'scandal' they will think up. Have them prove how mentally disable I really am, which might get me carted back to the Capitol. I sigh and decide to suck it up, and walk over so I am beside Peeta, a scowl on my face. I never said I would be nice.

"Katniss, how nice it is to see you! And alive and happy." He turns to smile at the camera, then looks back at me. "So tell me, how has it been in 12 since the rebellion? Everything you hoped for?"

I don't know what to say. I can guarantee he's looking for something along the lines of it was once Peeta was back with me or the only thing I hope for is Peeta in my life. After all, what fun is talking about a rebellion when you have romance? I mentally scoff. I go from Star-Crossed lover to Mockingjay, and then back to Star-Crossed lover. The rebellion is over, so what else am I good for? When someone thinks of the Mockingjay, they think of a mental patient. When they think of me and my "better half", everything seems right again. "This is what all of Panem hoped for; the freedom to live as they please." Sufficient, and by the small nod Peeta sends my way, I know he thinks so too.

The reporter smiles politely, but it's easy to see that the answer doesn't do anything for him. "Wonderful! But enough about Panem as a whole; how about yourself?"

Now I'm stumped. I never had a way with words, and my earlier statement was more than I could ever hope to come up with on the spot. I start to sweat, knowing every second I'm silent, it's another second in a hole. I wish that Peeta would chime in, but we both know the question is directed at me. It's like they're trying to catch me off guard, since everyone in the country knows how good Peeta is with words. "It's…nice to be back in 12, my home. It can be hard, but it's hard for everyone. We're all just trying to adapt to this new government, and it's definitely for the better." I try to smile, but I'm overwhelmed with guilt. I'm saying this is better for everyone, but how about the ones that lost their lives? Finnick and Boggs. Prim.

No, I cannot cry on national television. Peeta seems to sense my distress, because he squeezes my hand in reassurance. The only thing that breaks me out of my reverie is how annoyed the reporter is beginning to look, trying to hide it behind a smile, and reminds me that I'm nowhere near off the hook.

"How about in the household? It seems very cozy in here." He winks.

There's no way to deflect this one. They know this is my house, and the fact that Peeta answered the door confirms how much we've grown back together. This time, Peeta comes to my rescue. "Katniss has definitely made it more homely than when the Capitol decorated it. It shows how well she's healing." He smiles, as charming as ever.

I'm about ready to say our goodbyes and lock the door, but we get cut off. "Now, how about that video?"

I freeze. Oh no. Please, no. The large smile on the reporter's face shows that he knows he's got us. I'm sure everyone in Panem has seen the video. I look at Peeta, but for once he doesn't have words. There's no way to turn this around.

Peeta finally sighs and decides to go the comedic route. "Well we're star-crossed lovers, right? But it's also an aspect we like to keep to ourselves. Thank you and goodbye." He inches the reporter out and bolts the door shut.

I sigh in relief, but my heart is racing. Maybe I'm overreacting – this will help in the long run, right? – but I also think about the people I actually know. I don't want to think about my mother knowing what goes on in my and Peeta's bedroom.

"C'mon, let's see what they came up with." Peeta grabs my hand and drags me to the couch. We sit and watch ourselves replayed, and then the news anchor back on. "And there we have it folks, our favorite lovers are not just looking for an audience. We wish them the best!"

I'm about to rant to Peeta when I hear him whimper. I turn and see him with his eyes open, but unseeing. His pupils are dilated, and I instantly know that he's in a flashback. I have no idea what to do. I see him gripping the couch cushion, though it doesn't seem to be doing much; this much is true when he cries out and falls to the floor, his head in his hands. "No no no. Yes. No, wrong. No."

I'm up and in front of him, eyes wide in fear. What am I supposed to do? He's fighting with himself, which is something I haven't seen since we were in 13. He's gripping his hair and rocking. "P-peeta?" I kneel down and slowly crawl over to him. I try to get him to focus on me, but he's gone. I slowly reach out one hand to put on his shoulder, but when I do, he grips my arm and pushes me back.

He's definitely gotten his strength back, because he's pushed me at least ten feet, and my wrist feels sprained. Should I get Haymitch? No, I can't leave. I can't let Dr. Aurelius know, either. All I do it sit here and stare as he continues to talk to himself, sometimes yelling out, feeling utterly helpless. I'm close to rocking, myself, as I wrap my arms around my legs without taking my eyes off of him. "Peeta, please. Come back." I feel like I'm about to cry, so I bury my head in my knees and take a few deep breaths. I can't cry. I can't.

There's a thump and my head shoots up, eyes wide, fearing the worst. Peeta is splayed out on the floor, out cold. At least, I think he blacked out. Panic overcomes me as I scramble over to him, because if he's not breathing I won't know what to do with myself. I'm shaking when I carefully lean over him, and see his chest moving up and down in slow, even motions. I breathe out and feel exhausted myself. Damn television; I'm near ready to rip the thing off the wall, but instead crawl up into Peeta's arms, wrapping one of my own around him waist, and stroke his hair while I wait for him to wake up.

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