After everyone left everything was quiet. I found myself deeply disturbed by Gale's behavior. Taunting Peeta as though Peeta were less than human. Fearing Peeta would kill me. Not trusting my instincts. I ruminate upon it while in the woods, and anger built. I always felt pressured by him. Stifled, Peeta makes me free. He spends the day baking, planning the bakery. Haymitch is returning tomorrow. So I have to destroy his liquor stash before he gets back. Something Peeta and I will do together. Johanna stayed with us after the event in Twelve. She helps around the house, she feeds the geese and is making Haymitch's home livable for his return. Removing all signs of the Games. Today I'm alone in the woods. Hunting for game. The woodland population is flourishing. A deer walks into my path and I take it down with an arrow to the heart and drag it back to the house. Johanna helps me clean it.

"You think sobriety will stick?" She asks.

"No, but he could shock us. We'll keep sending him back until it does."

"This defender of the helpless shit, we're all supposed to be involved? Like the Victors?"

"Yes."

"Even though Annie is off her rocker and Enobaria and I want to kill one another."

"Well Beetee seems to be in control of his devices."

"We're more figure heads." I add

"This thing with Peeta and Gale…"

"Bullshit." I interrupt her. "Gale thinks he owns me. I'm tired of the histrionics. I really am."

"Okay. No talking about it."

I give a faint smile. We clean the game and Peeta cooks it.

"So what are we going to do with the booze? Make a big bonfire with it?"

Peeta chuckles. "That's an idea."

They continue talking while Gale's behavior burns in my skull.

"I never loved him you know. Gale. I just thought I was supposed to."

Johanna and Peeta gaze back and forth confused.

"It's okay Katniss."

"No. He wants to get between us. It's fucked up he's making Peeta think I don't love him." I slam my palms into the table. "I don't want anymore drama goddamnit. I just want to do the right thing."

I storm away into my bedroom, I without thought rifle through my closet and pull out a box, a box containing a knife taken from the first arena. I apply it to my arm and draw sweet red. An instant release, the tension of Gale bearing down upon me gone. I slip on a long sleeved shirt and trot downstairs.

"Let's go smash some bottles!" I call out

"Hells yea!"

We spend the evening looking through Haymitch's home insuring every stashed bottle was disposed of. Room by room. We started a fire in the fireplace and threw at least twelve bottles in it. Johanna stayed at Haymitch's home, and Peeta and I returned home and nestled into bed.

"I love you." Peeta tells me fondling my breasts. We began to kiss, fondle until Peeta lifts my shirt.

"What's this?" He says staring at my fresh wounds.

"I relapsed."

"Why didn't you talk to me?"

"I didn't want to. Gale is crushing me! He doesn't want me with anyone else. He's poisoning us!"

"No he's not! I know you love me. You're with me."

"Whatever you think I'm' with you because of Prim"

"No."

"I have to face these people who are associated with pain! I'm choosing it! Why do I give a fuck about the people in Eleven? Or Eight? Or Six?"

"Because you have a sense of justice."

"Look at where it's getting me!" I hold out my arms.

"This is good Katniss you're talking about what's really bothering you. It's being around reminders of pain. We are moving forward. We're creating a better world."

I responded by kissing him taking off where we left it. Eventually lowering myself onto his erection and oscillating until he came the rolling over and feigning sleep. What am I? Selfish for wanting to not care? Is there a girl in Eleven hoping for hope while I fall apart because I hate the people who can help her? Including myself. If I were to save one person would I feel more whole? Peeta makes me feel some simbilance to human. My eyes flutter open the sun is up. Peeta catches me before I can rise with it pinning me to the bed.

"We're in this together." He kisses me running his fingers through my hair, and I open myself up to him. He fills that opening and each thrust is a jolt awakening me to life until I orgasm and the sunshines in full. A jule giving me energy for the day. It's nine in four hours Haymitch will be here. Presumably a changed man. Peeta and I shower silently. Breakfast is an omelette with toast. There's still three hours to kill so I decide to take to the woods. Not to hunt but to pick wildflowers for Haymitch's home. Making it more lovely for Effie rather than Haymitch. I can't help but to feel selfish. Are my qualms valid? When other people suffer so much greater than I do why do I fall apart over the presence of others? I feel confused which leads to anger. I train my attention on my quest for flowers. I find some daffodils, and daisies I traipse over to Haymitch's home where Johanna is hanging pictures which have fallen in disrepair. I find a vase and fashion the flowers into a centerpiece for the table. Johanna puts her hands on her hips.

"Well looks better than the shit pile it was."

I laugh.

"That's not hard. Smells better too."

"I wonder what sober Haymitch will be like." Johanna says.

"He's been drunk for so long I don't think he knows who to be."

Johanna and I go out to his garden which is still in a state of disrepair and pull weeds. Concentration on turning soil and pulling leaves brings relief from the strain of being alive. Soon the once weed farm is turned into a lovely palate for a garden. Peeta walks over.

"Wow. That's very nice." He says

"Thanks!" Johanna quips happily

"It's time to go to the station. I packed some lunch for you two, I figured you didn't want to be bothered."

He packed a lovely lunch of cheese and bread and various berries. We eat as Peeta drives to the station. I have butterflies in my stomach thinking of how Haymitch will react when he sees us. Anger? Gratitude? We can only know once he arrives. As we pull up to station we see he already has. He's standing with his arm around a happy Effie. A good sign. He's slimmer being as he's not bloated from alcohol. His eyes seem clear and he seems a bit younger. Peeta parks and we make our way to them. He welcomes us with an embrace.

"Thanks. We've got a lot of hard work to do. I need you rugrats." He says

"We're here." Peeta replies.

Effie tells us about how Haymitch is to go to outpatient treatment in the Capitol and is allowed to come home on the weekends. Haymitch grasps her hand with both of his. He has a slight smile. When we arrive home Effie gushes over the improvement.

"Oh! You've made a lovely home for us. Look Haymitch there's a new flower bed, and how lovely and clean the house is."

Haymitch walks around room by room. Checking for a stash he won't find.

"You were pretty thorough." He says to us.

"Ripper knows not to sell to you as well." Peeta answers.

His face is flush for a moment, then he softens.

"Thank you."

I'm not sure if he's enjoying sobriety. Like the rest of us he has to face what he's been through without anesthetic. He has a noticeable tremor in his hands, and he seems to cross in and out of emotions holding Effie's hand when a negative wave hits. We sit in his den listening to music. Except he doesn't sit. Rather he paces like a caged animal. He's sober. But he has a long way to go before he's better. The pain must be agonizing for him on the inside.