Over the next few months, we slowly switch into some kind of schedule. Each day brings something different and something that was the same the day before. Peeta's gotten a group of guys together to begin to help him fix up the bakery. I try to do as much as I can, but my belly is beginning to grow and it's becoming harder to do normal tasks from exhaustion.

Each week I visit Doctor Swiftly for a checkup. With what happened in our last pregnancy she wants to keep an eye on me. Which is understandable, but a bit annoying, yet I'm grateful for her concern.

So, I stay home listening to a recording of music and try to think up some new recipes for the bakery. It's been easier than I thought, and a few have turned out to be exceptionally tasty. Peeta comes home for lunch to eat every day, as well as to check on me. It's nice to have his company, even if for a while.

As I begin to reach the eight month mark, I start to worry. Many things can still go wrong. I could delivery early, I could deliver late, I could deliver during the day when Peeta isn't around and I can't get help. During the last few days, I can see that Peeta begins to notice my worry. He suggests we sit outside in the backyard with a campfire flickering.

"What's bothering you?" he asks.

I wrap the blanket i have around my shoulders, "Nothing."

"Katniss," his voice is stern, yet calm. He knows there's more than I'm telling him.

"It's just that it's getting closer to the due date, and I'm getting terribly nervous. What if something goes wrong and you're not there to help me of I can't get help myself?" I ask, "I'm sorry but I won't be delivering a baby on the kitchen floor." I hear him chuckle, yet I find absolutely nothing funny about delivering a baby on our kitchen floor. I can see him thinking, his eyebrows scrunching.

"Since you only have a month left of your pregnancy, what if we stayed at the Capitol until then? Let's take the train there tomorrow." I look over at Peeta who's using a stick to move around the wood in the fire pit, "I could tell the boys the plans for the bakery for the next month and give them some time off. We could stay with Effie."

For a moment I find it to be an idiotic idea, to just pick up and leave for an entire month, but then I realize it'll be the last normal month of our lives. "Alright," I agree. "Let's go."

The next morning, as I'm packing a suitcase, I'm beginning I regret my decision. When I see everything we need, I'm not sure if I can handle leaving. All these bottles, toys, clothes. So much to take care of a newborn for only one or two weeks.

Peeta called Effie late last night-because of the time difference-to ask if she'd mind if we stayed with her for a while. According to Peeta's account of what had happened, there had been a lot of screaming, a lot of tears and a lot of yes's. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew without even asking her, she would be elated to have us stay with her.

I continue to place tiny outfits and my own outfits into the suitcase, before I forget I add Peeta's clothes too. Soon enough, I'm finally able to close the suitcase, even if I did have to sit on it for quite a while until it would zip. Peeta decided to call a taxi to take us to the train station deciding it was easiest.

"Katniss," Peeta peeked his head in the bedroom. "You ready? The taxi's here."

"Yeah, just a minute," I grabbed the bag off the bed. It was heavy enough to shift my entire body and pull my arm down.

Peeta pulled the suitcase out of my hand, "Are you alright?" his voice as concerned.

"Yeah, I think so," I hold my shoulder and move it around circles seeing of the pain is severe. I decide it isn't terrible enough to worry about.

I smile, and say, "You ready to go?"

He smiles back and places his hand around my waist, "Of course I am."

I'm reminded of the reason why we hadn't visited the Capitol in months once we step on the busy train filled with screaming babies, talkative teenagers and stinky old men. "Gross," Haymitch scoffed, "We're not riding on this part of the train," Peeta had brought up the idea of visiting the Capitol to Haymitch who insisted he come along too.

So there stood the three of us in utter shock at what we were witnessing on the train. From the corner of my eye I could see Haymitch slip the attendant a hundred dollar bill. She slyly smiled, and spoke, "You three, I need you to come with me a moment." She led us to a different part of the train, a much more private, comfortably quite part. "Here's where you'll be riding with us today." Haymitch winked at the lady as she left.

I turned to Peeta and I saw him shrug his shoulders, all I could do was laugh at Haymitch's tactics to get his way. Peeta and I take a seat on the couch that's in the middle of the room. I'm mesmerized by the entire part of the train; the flowers that sit atop each small table, the priceless china that is laid neatly in front of each seat at the dining table, the gold color of the walls that had neatly been painted. Everything looks so familiar. Slowly, but surly I'm reminded of why the train seems familiar. It's the same one we took to the Capitol after our reaping.

I suddenly feel like my throat is about to close, my chest becomes tight, and I know that I need to find out where the nearest bathroom is, soon. "Peeta," I swallow." I make a circle with my finger, "This is the train." At first he looks at me with furrowed eyebrows, but then realizes what I'm telling him once he begins to look around. I begin to see it all again, but this time it's heightened. Every memory as clear as the moment it happened, the arena, the deaths around me, Rue, Peeta's injured leg, the mutts. It's all too much.

He sees my worry, and takes my hand, "Katniss, you're fine," I begin to breathe heavy and he places a hand on my cheek, "You're safe, we're safe, this train is taking us to our friends, and wonderful, wonderful doctors who are going to give you the best attention possible. That's it. Nothing else. This train isn't taking us to where your mind is telling you."

I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. One. Two. Three. Now I know how Peeta feels when he has a flashback. I've never been so scared in my entire life.

My hand comes up to my forehead, trying to soothe my throbbing headache, but it's then that I realize my forehead is drenched with sweat. I excuse myself, walking to the bathroom. I press a cold washcloth to my face, the chill of the water cooling my entire body, allowing me to relax.

I hear the squeak of a floorboard outside the door. I know its Peeta. He's worried. I don't blame him for wanting to make sure I was alright. I'm thankful that he cares so much.

After a moment, he ends up speaking, "Katniss, we're going to be there in a few minutes. You almost ready?" I place the cloth in the hamper and open the door.

He stands there with his arm against the wall, his blonde hair and bright blue eyes looking at me. I can't help but take in this scene. Something as simple as him caring has made me realize how incredibly lucky I am to have him. He places the palms of his hands on both of my cheeks, kissing my forehead. "You ready?" he whispers. I nod and he leads me back to the living room part of the train.

"Look, you can see the buildings." Peeta says with excitement. Together we look through the window to the outside world. We haven't been here since the 75th Hunger Games, yet it's like we never left. So many memories are flooding back to me, but I try my best to block as much of them out, at least the bad ones. But as we enter the Capitol, the bad memories are no longer taking over my mind; I look at Peeta and realize that from now on bad memories are just that-memories. I now have this wonderful, beautiful man who I know is going to try and do everything in his power to make sure nothing bad will ever happen to me. But nothing lasts forever.