A/N: Well, we are on the tour. How will Katniss balance her new feelings with a lifetime of mindset that goes against everything she is feeling?

I DO NOT claim credit for characters or themes, all praise goes to SC.

Finding a balance

After we had waved to the crowds who had gathered to wish us well, said our good-byes to family and friends, we were back on the train and headed towards our first stop.

The quiet was unsettling. It was also short-lived. "We have a very big big day planned for tomorrow." Effie squealed. "We will be in District 11 in a couple days, so get your rest," she instructed.

This was also code for get off to bead, right now. It was funny to think that Effie must assume her role is to be the schedule keeper, event planner, and substitute mommy for all the tributes.

She too is in uncharted water as it has been almost 25 years since our district has participated in the victory tour.

Haymitch settled in quickly – to the beverage car. He was insistent on being drunk before our district had faded from view, and from the looks of things, he was well on his way.

I took a moment to glance at Peeta and he had somewhat of a glazed look in his eyes. It was as if he wasn't really sure what to do.

Without saying anything further, I excused myself to my room and decided I would get an early start on the nightmares.

I haven't said a word to anyone about the meeting with President Snow. It all happened so fast and with such weight that I blocked it out, to an extent.

At the time I wasn't entirely sure who I could confide in. I had other thoughts plaguing my mind at the time too, but now in the silence of the train, I was consumed by the weight of this burden.

Who could I tell? Who would understand just how important this trip was?

I don't think I could tell Peeta.

I am still not entirely sure where we are headed and I don't want my conversation with him last night to seem like it was a plea for a fresh new act.

That only leaves one person and he isn't usually much for conversations with me.

I slipped out of my room and down the hallway until I was standing outside his door. "Haymitch," I whispered as I knocked gently.

I heard a bottle come down on the table, not so gently and his door opened. "What do you want sweetheart?" he grumbled.

"I need to talk to you about something, I don't know who else to tell," I said.

I hesitated to start and as if he was reading my mind, he brushed past me and toward the common area.

As if on cue, the train was making a stop and Haymitch headed for the door, mumbling something about fresh air.

He was passed the attendant in no time and I took the opportunity to follow him with the pretense of bringing his drunken butt back to the train.

Once we were safely away from the train, I spilled out what I could recall about the meeting with Snow.

I didn't immediately go into the details of how my performance wouldn't really be as much acting as before. I wasn't really ready to announce my feelings for Peeta to the world, mostly because I wasn't total convinced of their depth.

So we returned and resolved that I would have to keep playing the game we started – forever.

When Haymitch had said those words, he gave me a puzzling look as I took it all in. "Honestly, I thought you would be upset," he said suspiciously.

My face must have been betraying me again as I felt the heat rise up in my neck and my cheeks. Haymitch picked up on it immediately and gave me a little smirk.

I was really going to have to figure out how to control the emotional response my body seemed hell bent on giving off every time my mind contemplated the thought of a future with Peeta.

Morning came after a night with almost no sleep but plenty of nightmares. I was alone at breakfast staring at a table full of my favorite foods.

"Hey you," I heard from behind me and turned to see Peeta smiling and walking toward me. Without hesitation, his hands found my shoulders and gave me a reassuring squeeze.

His touch felt comforting, but my mind kept throwing up the walls that I depended on when I was trying to keep my family alive back in district 12. I shifted a little so that his hands fell away and returned to my food.

Peeta sat across from me and I could feel a tension mounting in the air. He finally broke the silence, "Is everything alright?"

I nodded, and after a minute, finally looked up and said something about not getting much sleep last night.

"I don't sleep much either, not anymore," he stated and for the first time, I realized how I wasn't the only one traumatized by the memories.

I don't think I have ever really thought about the horror he may have witnessed, especially running with the careers for the first couple of days. I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

"I am really happy that we are talking again," he started. He was desperate for conversation. I willed back my defenses and said, "Me too. I missed it"

I continued, "Peeta, I have no idea how to process all of this…the feelings and circumstances. I want to give us a chance to develop and see where it leads, but I am not very good at letting anyone in."

It was the truth. My whole life had been focused on me. Not in a selfish, stuck-up sort of way, but in a way that was totally focused on my skills and actions being the difference between eating and starving.

"Just relax and be you, Katniss. That's the person that I fell for all those years back, and the person that I hope has feelings for me," he said. With that, I reached a hand across the table and found his, locking our fingers together and smiled.

We spent the next hour or so talking about things we liked – favorite colors, and best memories of growing up. I was shocked at how much he seemed to know about me, and a little embarrassed when I realized all the times our paths had crossed but I had been to focused elsewhere to even notice.

After lunch, I followed Peeta to a part of the train I had not been before, and saw his talent for the first time. Peeta was a wonderful artist, having been the primary cake decorator in his families Bakery back home.

After the games, he transferred that artistic ability to the canvas. What I saw though, made my skin crawl. Each canvas depicted, in the most realistic detail, the horror of my nightmares. "How can you paint all of this?" I asked him.

He said, "It's the only way I know how to process what's in my mind. I haven't really had anyone to talk to back home."

Now I feel terrible that I spent so much time shutting him out and I move closer to him, wrap my arms around his waist and lay my head on his chest. Peeta takes his cue and embraces me in a comforting hug that speaks volumes to my heart.

Again, my mind warns me that this isn't normal and I push myself back away and continue to look around the room. What catches my eye next is a large canvas that makes me uncomfortable, but for a different reason.

On the large surface of creativity are at least 15 different faces – all my faces, but in different states.

There is one of my sleeping, one laughing, another crying, and one with my trademark scowl, some in black and white, and others in various shades of color.

I look back at Peeta, who seems somewhat embarrassed. "How can you picture all of this from that short amount of time we spent together in the arena?"

"I have been looking at your face for the past five years, everyday in school and when you walked home," he admitted. He went on, "you are often in my dreams. When I was afraid to talk to you, I would paint you. It was my weird way of not forgetting"

There is that feeling again, not the defensive reflex to retreat, but the one that consumed me in the cave and more recently when we were meeting again for the cameras.

I feel conflicted, but at the same time, I am filled with an overwhelming contentment and affection for this boy. I also feel guilty for shutting him out over the past few months, but resolved to open up to him more.

It's getting close to dinner time when we make our way back toward the dining car and find our style teams, Effie and Haymitch all sitting around making small talk. When we appear, hand in hand, they all get quiet.

Haymitch gives me that puzzled look as if he's trying to figure out what's going on inside my mind. I know this must be confusing. Sure he expects affection when the cameras are rolling, but when we are alone on the train?

I am sure a conversation will ensue sooner or later. But for now, I am just enjoying the moment, as much as a person in my predicament can.

After dinner Effie lays out, in meticulous detail, our plans for our first district stop tomorrow. It's district 11 and my heart aches at the thought immediately.

Rue was from district 11. My first and only other ally besides Peeta. The one that reminds me so much of Prim. Tomorrow I will have to face her family and I am almost sick at the thought of it.

As I excuse myself from the table, I give Peeta a look and he is immediately up and following me. We sit in the hallway and I tell him about Rue and what she meant to me during our time in the arena. The tears flow and I find my way to his shoulder as his hands find my waist.

I quickly apologize for being emotional, and tell Peeta goodnight. It's early, but I just need to be alone. After a quick shower I slip between the sheets and search for any semblance of rest although I am sure none will come.

When we arrive in District 11, we are hurried through our prep and dressed for the event. We will have to listen to speeches, accept useless awards, give our own remarks and then have a specially prepared dinner in our honor.

We are introduced and step out onto the platform in the public square. The air is heavy with a false sense of joy. The speeches go as planned, but I am overly aware of the tension that seems to be boiling beneath the false smiles.

It is in that moment that I begin to think of ways to convince this audience and all those watching around the country of my desperate love for Peeta.

I step closer to him as he is giving some remark about our winnings being shared with the tributes families and he glances down at me with a puzzled look in his eyes. My hands find his and I am rubbing his forearm, not even really paying attention to what he is saying.

When I hear the crowd react to what he has offered, I take the opportunity to kiss him with an overzealous show of emotion. And then another kiss, it's awkward and I know that I am looking more like a fox in heat than a victor.

What happens next is really a blur. There was some sort of commotion in the crowd, we were persuaded to retreat back inside the building, gun shots rang out, and then silence. I looked up at Peeta and he had a look of total confusion and almost mistrust.

Haymitch whisked us away to a secluded part of the building and pried for details. We explained the tension in the crowd and what we thought was some sort of confrontation in the crowd. Peeta backs away from me and demands to know what he is missing.

With a look that means it's time to be honest, Haymitch walks away from me and I turn to Peeta and spill out all the details of Snow's visit to my house and the unrest our little berry act caused in the districts.

Peeta turns away from me and is silent for a few moments. When he turns back around he looks at Haymitch and enquires if he knew about this. When Haymitch admits he did know, Peeta's face takes on a look of despair mixed with anger.

"So all of this, you and I, the feelings and everything, it's all for show? Again," he directs towards me.

I was afraid this is how he would react, and had used that fear as my primary reason for keeping it from him. I realize now that the slow approach I was using to sort out the real feelings must have seemed so alien to the hot and heavy act I put forward on the stage.

"I trusted you. I let myself believe that this was really happening, that even though you said it was more act than not in the arena that you had found you had feelings for me," he said.

"But it was all a lie?" he whispered. "No, Peeta it's…" I started, but was quickly cut off. "Don't…I don't want to hear it. I don't know what to believe Katniss. For the past three days…what was that, practice? He said, now in a more determined and harsh tone.

"If we must act to keep our families and those we care about safe, you know I'll be up for it. But it really hurts that you played with my emotions like that," he said, and with that stormed off toward our quarters in the building.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I spun around to look at Haymitch. In that moment, his face softened a little bit and he said, "Are you still playing sweetheart?"

The tears streaming down my face gave me away again. "No…I really like him and have been trying to figure out how to show him," I said. "He still scares me to death, I am not used to this, and I was afraid he would think I was…" I couldn't continue. Sobs from somewhere deep were working their way out of my body.

We quietly retreated back to our quarters and I spent entirely too much time in the shower trying to make sense of what happened today, both in the square and with Peeta. I guess I didn't think about how fragile his trust must have been. I didn't think…that was a common problem with me. I like to act and act on the move, so I never slow down to process how my actions will affect others.

When it was time for the dinner, I was dressed and waiting in the hall to be introduced. His hand found mine and startled me. He looked down at me and simply said, "No more lies. Friends don't lie to each other."

"No they don't, and I am sorry. I really…" I started, but he cut me off with a smile and a kiss on the cheek.

"Haymitch told me I needed to remember something. And I do remember – my feelings for you are unchangeable. I will fight every day to not fall in love with you because I know that's probably an unreachable dream, but I will be your friend for all of my days," he said.

I didn't know what to say, or how to respond. That same feeling that had consumed me in the cave and in the snow was present again in my heart and even though I knew I was going to be on damage control, I realized for just a second how lucky I was to be adored by someone like Peeta.

I don't deserve this kind of admiration and love. Yes, it is love. Only love could help a person rebound so quickly after having his heart crushed.

I don't know how I will convince him that my deep down feelings are for real and that I was over the top on the stage, but that was driven by fear.

Something inside of me knows that no matter what I, or we do, we will not succeed in meeting Snow's expectations. This crowd was on edge before we ever pulled up. Maybe the damage has been done and the inevitable is happening.

So rather than focus on over the top performances, I determine I want all of us – Peeta and I, to be real. Whatever that looks like. I think people deserve truth in a world where all they hear are lies. So the truth is what they will see. Two scared teenagers who are publicly stumbling through the awkwardness of a beginning relationship.

We relax through dinner and enjoy the festivities, we dance, and we talk with people we will most likely never meet again.

When we are back on the train, putting District 11 behind us I walk into the dining car and find an unusually semi-sober Haymitch sitting by himself.

Here we go I think. "You could have saved me a lot of embarrassment and getting yelled at by him if you had let me in on the little love secret," he began.

"I didn't know it would have made a difference. I thought we were protecting him from the worry of knowing about Snow," I replied.

"That little spark in the cave during the games got the most reaction out of these nut jobs. That was real. Yes, they're not that smart, but you aren't a very good actor. If you want to sell this, go with real." He said.

"That is the only way to make it powerful on the outside." He began again.

Then he was quiet. He went on talking about the mess we were in, even if we did pull it off. I just sat there and listened.

"You know you're lucky girl. It isn't often someone like him comes along, let alone has any interest in you, especially someone like you," said Haymitch.

I was ready to become defensive, and sensing that, he continued, "Not that you don't have genuine qualities, but you are like an iron box. You shut this kid out, whether you realized it or not for five years and he never missed a beat."

I knew this. It made me fill terrible that I had consumed so many years of his thoughts. "You should embrace how lucky you are and make this right," he said.

"We have a day and a half before we get to district 10, and I would suggest you try and figure out how to put the confusion behind us," he huffed.

With that he excused himself and I was alone with my thoughts and the soft sounds of the train whisking us on our journey.

I want nothing more than to put the confusion behind me, behind us. I hated that part over the last few months, trying to sort out feelings and thoughts and what not. It isn't me. Growing up, I didn't have time for thought processes to play out. I had a task each and every day and I had to make a plan, execute, and hope for another day.

I know that my feelings for Peeta are real. I know that they are deep and I know that they are leading me into unchartered waters.

My task now is to show Peeta that this isn't just for show. That our private moments are real and that I am falling for him, maybe not as fast, but I know its happening.

I silently pray that I haven't set the bridge on fire again, and get up to make my way to the sleeping compartment.

I haven't seen Peeta since we got back on the train. I decide I will talk to him tomorrow morning and begin the process of opening up to him again.

My nightmares must have been something special tonight, because he is in my room instantly, and his arms are around me. Doesn't he sleep? How could he be this alert and attending to my every need?

After I calm down, he stands up to leave, but I reach out and grab his hand. "Please stay with me," I say.

With that, he crawls into bed with me and those arms wrap me into his warm chest. We fit. As if we were made to complement one another, we fit like a puzzle piece. All my resolve, all the walls come crashing down around my heart and I feel warmth spread all over my body.

Just his touch? Is that what it took to break me down? My heart is a strange part of me, I resolve. I look up into his endless blue eyes and open my mouth to apologize, to tell him how much I know I need him – no how much I know I want him in my life, but the words don't make it out.

"I know," he says. "Falling in love with you was the same way for me too, like a light suddenly clicked on in my heart," he said. With that, he kissed me. Not in a hungry, forced, raw manner, but in a delicate, soft passionate moment.

"I love you Katniss," he said

Time stood still for what seemed like an eternity. My voice surprised me, but it came from my heart. "I love you," I whispered. There was no need to decide how and on what level and what it would look like tomorrow.

In this moment we both knew we were powerless to control our feelings for one another and surprisingly it seemed right. Whatever happens from here on out will be real and that is the best part of all.

I closed my eyes and for the first time in as long as I could remember, slept without another nightmare.

A/N: Very long chapter, but I felt like it needed every word to get us to the point of love. When I started this story I wanted to explore how the books may have looked had the feelings that we know were there in the heart of Katniss, buried deep, may have affected the dynamic if they were out in the open earlier. Would the chain of events that led us to the epilogue have been any easier or more complicated? That is what I am attempting to visualize. I am a romantic at heart and got frustrated at times with the stories when it seemed like they were finally going to be together only to have some sort of misfortune of life or the heart drive a wedge. I came to the conclusion to write a little because I was left at the end of MJ with the feeling that they settled for what was left rather than embraced what they wanted. So I am twisting and turning here and there to see if that sits better on my mind. Comments and personal introspect are welcomed.