Soooo sorry it took so long… Anyway, I've decided to create a time skip! Hurray! We're now in Post-Mockingjay(except for in the beginning, when they had brought Peeta back)…well read and you'll find out.

If you didn't want me to skip, feel free to tell me, but deal cuz I'm not going back. It's too boring. :P

Read on. (Also! Sorry it's so short )':

Chapter Six

In his mind

I cringed away and tried not to cry. Peeta was thrashing wildly around the table, this creature I'd never seen before taking the place of my fiancé.

"Peeta," I whisper softly, unable to comprehend what was happening before me. What had they done to him? "Peeta!" I scream, falling against the glass, nails clawing against it, trying to get it open.

"Stop, doing that won't help," Beetee says, rolling up behind me. There are men in the room with him, holding him down, and I recognize one as a peacekeeper that had gone missing back in the district, Aaron. So this is where he went…everyone else had just thought that he'd tried to escape and the capitol arrested him, turned him into an avox. I'm surprised they didn't though; I wondered how he got away so smoothly.

"Well what the hell is going to help!" I throw my hands up in the air with frustration.

"I'm not sure yet, we just got him back and we're still trying to figure out what the capital did to him to make him like this," Beetee tells me, gazing curiously at Peeta through the glass. What the hell had they done to him?

_ Post-Mockingjay_

"So do you like it?" I ask him as he takes in the sight of his new home, our home.

"It's peaceful," he comments, "I'll be able to pain uninterruptedly here." I smile and nod eagerly.

"Of course! There's a sunroom that I thought you might like, Peeta," I say, wrapping my arms around his neck. He holds me back, but it was never as tender as the night he was taken by the capital, the night they began to teach him to hate me. I knew he was getting his memories back now, and at least he knew of his true feelings for me, even though he couldn't quite grasp how strong they were. The whole emotional twist has been upsetting for him, and it's taken so long just to get him to stop cringing whenever I stroke his hair.

But we were so much better now, almost a full year has gone by since Snow has been dead, and with all of the treatments and tours and stylists, and the games, all behind us, we could start over. We both had a clean slate, despite the scars we carried. One issue remained, and that was Peeta's acceptance to be able to hold me, and touch me for longer than a few moments. It wasn't me, I knew he loved me, but it was what they had done to him to make him hesitant when it came to physical affection. I try to kiss him, and he stiffens up. I haven't tried anything further.

"Peeta," I murmur. Peeta uses that as an excuse to let go, and moves to the couch, immediately abandoning that and kneeling by the fire, holding his gifted hands out to the crackling flames.

"Yes?" he replies, his voice monotonic, like it always has been. There have been few moments where I recognize Peeta, feel the familiarity in his tone. He has never been the same, and it broke my heart. I do know one thing though, he always returns to normal when I cry. I think it's the vulnerability telling him that no one is going to hurt him anymore. When I give him the opportunity to be the caring one his true self comes out. And in turn I cry harder because for a minute, I have my precious love back in my life. But only for a minute.

"When do you think we could make love again?" I ask softly, kneeling next to him and taking his hand. It wasn't the need and the want talking, it was the fact that I was in love with him and to not be able to show physical intimacy was getting harder. He looked back and the fire sadly, shoulders hunched over and beautiful blond hair falling wildly over his face. I pushed it away, and for once he didn't react to the touch.

"I'm not a virgin, real or not real?" he whispers, his eyes not moving from the fire. I know he knows the answer, but I think he wasn't referring before he was taken.

"Real," I say softly, squeezing his hand in my own.

"Was it you?" he asks. I nod, and he turns to look into my eyes. "Was it special?" he asks again, obviously making a point that he doesn't remember any of it, and the thought that he couldn't just broke my heart. The most amazing night of both of our lives, and he can't remember it.

"Yes," I say, almost choking on the sudden tears coming from my eyes and my heart. Good, I needed Peeta in this moment. I needed him so badly it hurt.

"Shhh Katniss, it's okay, I'm here," he soothes. I cry into his chest and he holds me tightly, rubbing my back. "I'm so sorry, it's not that I don't remember…I just can't remember what I was thinking when it happened…they messed up my brain so much," he says, starting to cry himself. This was like its own reminder that we were both still ourselves, they couldn't alter us and ultimately, we were still madly in love. Peeta would be himself again someday. "Katniss, I'm so sorry," he cries, holding me tighter and tighter, as I do him.

"Don't apologize, none of this was your fault," I pull back to look at his stunning tear streaked face, wiping them off with my fingers, "you'll remember again someday. And yes, it was so special, you and I agreed it was the best night of our lives," I tell him, and as soon as the words are out he starts to sob, for the first time since the nightmares stopped. Now his mind is just blank when he sleeps. There are no nightmares, and no dreams. All of his memories, stained.

I take advantage of the situation and hold him as tight as I could, getting as much as I could before our little tear-fest was over and he would go back to the man I hardly knew.

After a few hours the cries subsided, and Peeta released his grip on me, and stood, looking away from the dying fire.

"I think we should go to bed," he says. But it's different…his voice is…familiar.

"Peeta?" I question, just to be positive. He holds his hands out to me and I take it. As I stand he places his hand at the small of my back, pulling me into his warm embrace.

"Hold still," he instructs, his voice nearly gone. "I love you, sweetheart," he whispers. That's when I knew; he was back. Then his lips were pressed against mine for the first time since he's returned, and it's like everything inside me has caught fire. I had Peeta Mellark back.