A/N: Sam (Cato) and I appreciate all of the wonderful reviews, and we do read all of them! So really, if you have any questions, feel free to ask away over there. :D This chapter starts in Peeta's POV.

I fall asleep to those wonderful words. A hard sleep, with few dreams because I'm just too tired to even dream. I don't need a lot of sleep. I just need solid sleep. Plus, I always wake up early. So when I get up and the clock on the wall says 7:30, I'm not surprised, and not tired, either. Nor shocked to see Cato still fast asleep next to me. ~

He's always asleep before me. Or, in the Games, he did. So it's not really shocking at all. I'm tired, yeah, but for a few minutes, I just watch him sleep. That could've been the last time I spoke to him, if he disappears once I wake up...and that thought puts me right to sleep. I don't want to think about him being imaginary again. I'm used to getting that in my dreams, and even my waking life, but...it was different this time. Then, all night, thoughts like this plague my dreams, turning them into nightmares. He never came back. Or he turned himself in at the Justice Building, his last thoughts of me being a horrible person. My dad finding him, getting rid of him...but it's normal. They're dreams. I can deal with them. Well, I hope these are only dreams. I just need him to be here right next to me for the rest of my life. That's all I want. ~

I sit around for a little bit. He's here. We can finally be together. He's already done so much for me...so it's my turn now. I'll make breakfast! It's the least I can do. He did always say he wanted to taste my baking. Carefully, I get out of the bed and tiptoe downstairs and start rummaging through cabinets, pulling out ingredients for all different pastries and stuff, some fruit, things like that. In the process, I find boxed cake mix. Sinful. ~

When did I fall asleep? Eight, nine? Way too early, in fact, that I find myself waking up early. Around nine. Blech. I do my daily yawn and stretch for the morning, but I realize something's off. My arms and legs aren't touching anything when I stretch. Shouldn't there be a person in bed with me? "Peeta?" I yawn again, turning to the side where I remember him being. And it's just empty space. I frantically sit up in my bed and look around. Maybe find something of his, like the clothes I lent him yesterday. But there's nothing. "Okay, don't freak out," I whisper. "Maybe he's just in the bathroom or something."

But I wait around for five, ten minutes...and he still doesn't come walking through that door. Oh god. Did...did yesterday even happen? I hadn't slept much before then, so...maybe that was all a dream. But it can't be. I love him. He has to be in my room. "Peeta?" I ask again, afraid of not hearing an answer. And there is no answer. "I'm so needy and hopeful and...stupid. I'm so stupid."

I find his black jacket just lying there, so I put it on and go to sit in the corner of my closet. I tend to do that, when I'm not in my bed. Forget it. I'm not talking to anyone ever again after this, because I'm insane. I spent what I thought was a whole day with the boy I want to spend the rest of my life with and he wasn't even there. And the worst part is? That's not even the first time it's happened. So I do as I usually do in this situation: cry. ~

"La," I sing quietly to myself as I finish with a batch of pastry dough, rolling it into various shapes and adding fruit mixtures to a few before sticking them in the oven and sitting at the kitchen table. These homes are so nice. I'm sure his old house was nice, too, but they have people cleaning for them, there's always things to eat... I would've felt horrible if I'd won, the difference between me and everyone else in District Twelve. Here, at least it's comparable. I wait a bit, then go in and sprinkle some cinnamon on the mid-cooking pastries. Cinnamon makes everything better. ~

"Peeta," I sob, rocking back and forth, "please come back. I need you."

Yes?

At the sound of his voice, I look out of the closet, expecting him to be in my room...and he isn't. This again. "I need you to keep me company before I do something crazy."

Of course, love.

"Thanks...you keep me alive," I sigh. I really need the real Peeta, though. This is good enough to last a little while, but...I didn't even get a goodnight kiss. And I love him. Just one thing I wanted, and the real world just takes it away from me.

That's what I'm here for. I'm just protecting you.

"Yeah, yeah. I know," I laugh. He really doesn't need to. I can handle myself. Usually. ~

I wait a nice while for them to cook through, until they're golden. About five minutes before they come out, I take some sugar and vanilla and cream and make some whipped cream for it, too. I don't know where everything in this house is, or I'd do more...but I figure the warm pastries and muffins'll be good.

When they come out, I take them off the tray and put them on a plate to cool, waiting on the apple cinnamon and chocolate muffins. I put the whipped cream in a bowl and set it in the center of the table, and set up two little places at the table with some difficulty in obtaining napkins and things of that nature. But I manage to get everything, and the muffins finish then, too. I want him to have it warm...but I'll let him sleep a bit longer. They'll still be warm in a while. They're probably too hot to eat now, anyway. So I spend my time arranging the muffins on the plate, too. I'm sure he'll love it. ~

"I wish you were alive."

But I am.

"Being alive in my mind and heart doesn't count. I want you to be physically alive," I say, trying to calm down my crying.

I wish so, too. But...you have my company. You like that too, don't you?

"But it's not right. I'm crazy."

Okay...I'm sorry I came around, then.

"No!" I cover my mouth to keep myself from raising my voice. "I didn't mean it like that..." He always took words too seriously.

I can go, if you'd like. Whatever makes you happy.

"Stay." ~

I start to get a little anxious just sitting around, so I decide to make my way back upstairs to bring him down. I get to the door, and it's opened just a crack from when I left a few hours ago. "Love?" I whisper in, not opening it any more. ~

"What is it, Peeta?" It's time to man-up. I told myself months ago that I couldn't keep crying like this. It makes my head hurt even more. ~

"Are you coming with me?" Good, he's up. He had to have smelled everything downstairs by now, then. ~

"I was going to yesterday, but I didn't think you'd want me to..." Now he wants me to come. I've been arguing with him for weeks about this. ~

"Why wouldn't I?" Dork. "C'mon, Cato...love. It's time." I'm so excited. He's waited forever to try things I've made. ~

Finally, I'm done being tormented. "What...how should I..." This is such a difficult question. "What do I use?" ~

What? "Uh, your feet?" Stupid boy. I love him. ~

Oh, I get it. He wants me to do it somewhere in particular. "Where should I go?" ~

"Down to the kitchen?" Okay, weirdo. "To be with me?" ~

Because he lived in a bakery. The kitchen would be symbolic or something. Seems just like him. "And once I'm down there, what should I use?" I pause. "Sorry for all the questions, I just...want to make sure it's to your liking." ~

"You can do whatever you want, Cato." I laugh quietly. "I mean, most use knives and forks, but if you wanted to use a spoon or something, who am I to stop you?" ~

"Um..." That's a little weird. "Spoons might be a little difficult, though I do like spoons..." I told him this yesterday. "I guess I'll use a knife then. Where should I cut...?" ~

"Why does it matter to me?" He's just so focused on making me happy..I don't even use a knife or a fork or anything to eat pastry. My oldest brother always did, though, so we had them at the table. "It's up to you, love." ~

"Because I want to know what the quickest way is, to get to you. I need you, Peeta." ~

"Uh..." Okay, now he's being weird. "Through the door?" The only reason I haven't come in is because he hasn't come out, so there's a chance he isn't fully dressed. And I know he'd probably get alarmed. ~

"I don't understand..." Maybe he can get it for me. Maybe, for a second, he'll turn corporeal and can get the perfect knife for me. "Can you bring it to me?" ~

I sigh. Lazy bum is probably still in bed. "Fine, but...just because I love you. I got the kitchen ready for you and everything..." ~

"Wait," I call out. "What do you mean, ready?" Like...ready for me to die? What? ~

I groan. "Are you decent?" ~

"Clothed? Yeah..." I haven't changed my clothes in days. And he knows it. He's me. He knows what I know. ~

Ugh. "Listen, do you want the pastries and stuff I made for breakfast or not?" I poke my head in to see him sitting on the floor. "Are you just gonna be a bum? It's getting cold." ~

"...Pastries?" I look up and see him there. I can see him again, too. Great. "How were you able to make me breakfast if you're imaginary?" ~

I give him a confused look. "Because I've lived in a bakery my whole life and I'm not imaginary?" I step into the room and lean against the wall. ~

But I don't understand. "Peeta, are you alive or in my head? Make up your mind, please, before I explode." ~

"Cato, I don't know what the hell you're going on about. Didn't we have this discussion yesterday?" I walk over to him and hold my hands out for him to get up. "Are you not feeling well? Maybe eating something'll make you feel better." ~

"Yesterday?" I reach up and take his hands, being able to pull myself up. I can actually touch him. "I...woke up, and you weren't there next to me..." ~

"You know I wake up early," I laugh, not letting go of his hands. "So I thought I'd surprise you. You can actually taste some of my baking now. I made fruit pastries and muffins and some whipped cream..." ~

"I thought you were dead." ~

Oh. "I'm right here, though..." I get on my tippy toes and kiss his nose. "And there's warm breakfast downstairs. Real, live breakfast made by your real, live baker boyfriend." ~

I quickly hug him before I run out of my bedroom ahead of him. That was such a relief. Oh god. I thought yesterday, the best fucking day of my life, was made up. But it really happened. Oh, thank god. I could cry again, but I won't. Not in front of him, if I can help it. ~

"Wait up!" I call, following him out and down the stairs towards the kitchen. "I tried to make everything look nice..." ~

When I reach the kitchen, I stop in awe. A cute little setting for two. All the foods. Turning around, wonderful boyfriend who's alive. "I love you..." I cry a little. Stop it, damn it! ~

"I love you, too," I catch up to him and respond. "Hey," He's crying. "Don't cry. I didn't mean to make you cry." ~

"I thought I couldn't have you again, but I can. Love of my life." ~

"Life...our lives will go on for a very long time together, Cato." ~

"Good...I'm glad." I turn back to the kitchen. This is wonderful. "Let's eat." ~

I run over and pull out a chair for him."Sit," I smile. ~

A/N: And there's that! I hope you all enjoyed. We're getting closer and closer…and if you all ask for the happy ending, we're just gonna give you the saddest one. And trust me. It's SAD. So…review and let us know what you think! X