A/N: This is the part of the stories that Sam and I began calling 'Reunion'. Heehee. I hope you all enjoy. Review!

This shit is finally fucking over! And now I can see Peeta. I know where he is, too. I might've done a little snooping around...stalking, really, but I'm near his house right now. And, by consequence of stalking him, I found out Finnick and Annie live in the house next to him. The house that I just rang the bell to.

"Yeah?" Finnick asks, opening the door.

Before I even see the reaction on his face, I push my way in, panting. "I can explain!"

He shuts the door and leans against it, confused. "There better be an explanation! What are you?"

"No, no, it's Cato. I swear. And by explain...I mean explain later," I plead. "I just need you to do something important for me, and I'll explain later!"

"You're dead. I hope you realize this," he says, clutching the doorknob.

"But I'm not. Look at me!" I run up to him, gripping his wrist with my left hand. "I can touch you! And you can smell how fucking bad I smell! And you can see me!"

For a moment, he considers opening the door and pushing me back out, but instead, he just stares into my eyes for a long time. I don't dare break eye contact. "You made it out, didn't you?"

"Yes. I'll explain it to you later...I just need to see Peeta first. Now do me a favor, please!"

"Wait...I knew it! I knew something wasn't right! I told him, and Coin lied about the blood test I asked her for-"

"Please." ~

I can't believe it's over. Even though it's only been a few weeks, it feels more like an eternity. Now'll come the peace. The peace I promised him I'd lead this rebellion to find. The peace that we were supposed to live in together.

Living alone was way too quiet, but it was that or go live with the rest of my family...and for a temporary fix, it'd do. I'd have to get used to being alone, anyway. It wasn't really much of a choice. When I got the news, I didn't really know what to do with myself. Sure, there'd be announcements, maybe. News. But what was I supposed to do now? Before this, I had Cato to live for. Then, when he was gone, I set my entire being to winning this and making this world what I promised him it'd be.

Now what? ~

"Give this to him," I say, handing Finnick my box.

"What is it?" he asks, taking it carefully as to not drop it, thinking it's fragile.

"It's a present!" Multiple presents, really. The District Two jacket. That picture of me, with a note written on the back. "Just...don't tell him who it's from. It's a surprise."

"Why don't you bring it?"

"Because he likes surprises! I'll go see him in a minute! Just bring it...while I go change into something less grimy. Do you mind if I borrow something of yours?" I hold up my bag, showing him that all my clothes are dirty.

"Alright! Alright!" He turns the doorknob and steps out. "Yes, you can...but I think it's a little too late to ask that," he says, pointing out that since the weather's getting warmer, I put on the light jacket I stole from his house weeks ago, and finally leaving.

So I go find the bathroom and change. ~

For some time, I just lay on my bed. My bed. What should've been our bed. I lay there in silence, trying to think of something to occupy the time. I'm not motivated to do anything. Even bake. But after a while, I decide to explore the large house around on my own. By the time I've gone through every cabinet in the kitchen twice, someone's knocking at the door. So I head over and call to the other side, because I really don't feel like hearing reporters, "Who is it?" ~

"It's your favorite neighbor!" Finnick calls happily through the door. Because this will definitely be a happy day for Peeta. ~

I sigh. As much as I didn't want company sometimes, Finnick always seemed to know how to put people in better moods. So I open up the door, motioning for him to come in and closing it after him. "Hey," I say, locking the door to be safe. "What's up?" ~

"This came up on my doorstep," he says, holding up the package. "It's not for me, though. It has your name on it." He holds it out to Peeta. ~

I take the package warily. "Thanks?" I look it over, before seeing Finnick still standing there kind of awkwardly. "I...I really don't want to be rude or anything, just...you know what today is, right? I'd...I'd just rather be alone, today." ~

"If that's how you feel," he tries his best not to smile, "then I'll be on my way out. I understand that you want to be alone today. It's not rude at all." He turns and says his goodbyes before leaving and shutting the door behind him. ~

I felt badly for sending Finnick out...and he was acting so oddly. But after yesterday, I suppose, he'd probably be trying to be vigilant. "What is this?" I ask myself, putting the box down on a coffee table before opening it up. ~

On the very top when the box is opened is the maroon tribute jacket, "2" side up. When taken out, there is a photograph on the bottom of the box. The exact photograph that was taken directly after the 74th Annual Hunger Games and laid on the nightstand in that ever-so-familiar bedroom back in District Two. Then, written on the back of the photograph in an unfamiliar handwriting is:

Forever isn't too far away.

So I'll see you soon, love.

3

I look at the jacket in my hands, body shaking, comparing it to the one on my body. I wore the jacket Cato'd died in every day for the past three weeks. This was definitely the real one. His. The one I supposedly died in. The one I mailed Cato and he got on my birthday months and months ago. And the picture...this was his, too. Things we left behind in Two from the torture. What kind of sick bastard does this? Of course, the world would know what I last said to him. It was on television. But this is just horrible. So familiar, and so horrible. But I clutch onto the jacket for dear life, sobbing into it. It still smells like him. Like he'd worn it only yesterday. I sat in my living room and just cried, holding the last of the love of my life in my arms, completely ignoring everything else but he and I and everything that could have been. ~

After I finally finish getting ready, I hear Finnick come back in the house.

"I did that terrible deed!" he calls in my direction. "What the hell was that anyway?"

I walk out of the bathroom, looking way better than I had come in. My hair and face are actually clean, for one thing. And I'm wearing much better clothing. "I told you, it's a present for him!"

"You look fancy," he says oddly, pointing out the blue and black suit I stole from him. "I didn't know you'd wear that."

"He's always wanted to see me dressed up, you know. No matter how much I would hate it." I don't really, but I'd rather be underdressed. I give Finnick a high-five and reopen his front door. "Thanks for everything, buddy. Tell you everything later!" And I slam the door shut before he can say anything.

And I walk over next door and knock on the door to Peeta's house. ~

Another knock. I didn't want to deal with anyone. Especially not now. "Just go away, whoever it is!" I cry. "I'm not in the mood to see anybody today..." ~

I knock again. Please let me in. ~

Can't people get a hint? Ugh. I put the photo in my jacket's pocket and hold onto the red jacket as I walk to the door, unlock it, and call back as I head into the kitchen, "Door's unlocked. Let yourself in." Whatever. I sit at a chair facing the back window at the kitchen table, still hugging Cato's jacket, and just stare out. The faster I get whoever it is in, the faster I can get them out. ~

I open the door and quietly close it behind me. I look around the house for a few seconds before hearing a couple sobs from the kitchen. Looking out as I walk closer, I can see him. We're in the same fucking room, I tell myself. No, I can't get too excited. This is a surprise. So I come up behind him, cover his eyes, and whisper, "Guess who." ~

Goddamnit. Yet, it sounds so familiar... "I'm not in the mood for games, okay?!" My face is soaked with tears. "Cut it out, seriously." ~

"Oh, turn around, Lover Boy!" I let go and smile. ~

My heart stops. I immediately turn around, scrambling to my feet and shouting, "I thought I told you to get the fuck away and never come back!" I cry. No. I'd stopped having delusions weeks ago. There's no way this could've brought it back. Him back. But there he is. I'm insane again. ~

He scares me so much that I fall back onto my ass. Ow, okay. "Peeta, I'm back! You never told me to go away..." I look to him, confused. "I said I'd be back for you!" ~

"No, no, no!" I clutch my head in my hands. "Goddamnit, I thought I was getting better." I can't even make eye contact with him. He looks so real. So much more real than I remember the delusions being. "Get out of my head!" ~

"I'm not in your head, Peeta!" I get up and run over to him. "I'm really here!" I grip his wrist-not tightly, I learned my lesson-and put it to my chest. "You feel that? That's my beating heart! The one you love to listen to!" ~

"Stop, please..." I sob. Oh god, it's so much like him. I knew him too well. "It was nice for a while, after he'd really gone, but I can't take this torture!" I shake my head. My mind even brought him back in a suit. What I always wanted but never got. Like him. Here. Alive. "I'm sorry about yesterday! I am! Just go, please, please go..." ~

"I'm not going ever!" I let go of him...but then I kiss him. Not as long as I'd like, after this long month...but it's enough to satisfy me for now. He just isn't reacting to it. "I was never gone! I've been alive the whole time...please believe me." He has to believe me. I believed him. He has to believe me... "What happened yesterday?" ~

"I didn't listen, don't act like you don't know! I watched him die on live television...I was wrong, and I realized I was wrong, okay?! You don't have to check up on me anymore..." I shut my eyes. "I almost broke my promise, but I stopped myself. I...would've regretted it for the rest of my life...afterlife...whatever the hell it is. I just couldn't do that to him, you, whatever!" I cry quietly. "Just stop teasing me with what I can never have..." ~

He tried it again. I want to be mad at him...but I can't be. Not now. Not that I almost have him. "I swear, Peeta..." I sob, "I'm really here...you can have me right now! I swear I've been alive the whole time...I-I traveled all the way from Four, all the way to Two...I killed him for us, Peeta! Who did you think did that?!" I drop to my knees. Please listen to me... "I never died! I'M HERE!" ~

This can't be happening. "I watched you get shot to death and blown up on live television! You don't have to convince me! I said I was sorry..! It was only one, only one cut, I swear... I swear!" I keep reliving watching Cato's death on the television that day in my head. "I saw it with my own eyes..." I look down at him, still never making eye contact. ~

"Peeeetaaaa..." I clutch onto his leg like a child. "It...I didn't! It was someone else! And, and...they started firing, and I went out the window...and I fell, but I kept going...and then they blew up the room, and I freaked and started running..." Finally, I drop completely to the floor in a messy heap of cries and patheticness. "I came all the way here...the entire time, it was me thinking 'Get back to Peeta! Do it for Peeta!' So you have to let me back...PLEASE, PEETA! How can I convince you..." Finnick realized it so easily. "Finnick saw me, too! I gave him the present to give to you!" ~

Then, I realize something. "W..what on earth are you?" I pull the photo out of my pocket. "This isn't his handwriting. For a moment...a moment, I believed. But he wrote me letters upon letters," all of which sit in the nightstand upstairs, "and I know how he writes. This isn't it." ~

He believed me. He believed it. "Look at my hand, Peeta!" I hold up my right arm, with my wrist still wrapped in bandages, and I pull the sleeve down to show him. "I broke my wrist, so I wrote that with my left hand!" ~

This is insane. I pause for a moment, to think. "You...escaped Four..went to Two..killed your father..and came here?" The distance seems plausible, but it could still be all in my head. I try to give him some benefit of the doubt. "Cato, I...I went insane when you died. How do I know I'm not just making this up because it's your birthday?" ~

"I don't know how else to prove it to you." He's starting to believe again. I'm so close. "Anything for you, dear. Anything at all." ~

It...it could make sense. The face was covered. I... "I...really don't know." And at that moment, our eyes meet. The Cato from my delusions never met my eyes. Ever. Because he wasn't real. This...this was real. I lose my breath as we make eye contact. "You're...you're not in my head. The Cato I made up wouldn't look me in the eyes." I whisper. ~

"But the real one would." I stand up and hold my arms out for a hug. "It's me." ~

For a moment, I just stare. How can this be happening? Tears start falling down my face at the mere idea of having him back. "You...you kept your promise." I quickly wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him. I kiss him and never want to stop. Ever. He's warm like my Cato. That's what really proves it. The Cato in my mind was always cold. Always. ~

I knock him down to the floor with our kiss and for a moment, we just roll on the floor kissing. He's crying, too, but that's alright. Because I know they're happy tears. That fucking crybaby. It's good to have him back. Finally, I push him away a little bit. "Of course I kept my promise. For you? I'd make it back to you even if I had to dig my way out of my grave." ~

"I'm sorry." I whisper through my tears. For almost breaking my promise. For doubting him. For crying now. "Oh god, I missed you." ~

"I know, I know, shh...I'm here now. No more missing me." I run my fingers through his hair and play with a few clumps of it. He likes it. "I missed you too, Peeta. So much." ~

"I thought you were dead." I bury my face in his shoulder. He smells like my Cato, too. ~

"Everyone did." I pause, holding him against me. "Everyone still does, really." And now, I'm laughing. I've had such a Peeta withdrawal over the past month. "I'M SO FUCKING GLAD TO BE WITH YOU!" ~

I stop any more yells with another kiss. I was baking this morning-with cinnamon, and tasting. I know he liked cinnamon because he always said I tasted like it, so I bet that was a welcome thing for him. ~

Oh my god, I love him. He's kissing me...and kissing me...and I can't stand it anymore. This is too fucking perfect and I can't handle it. "I'm so...so glad...that imaginary me kept you company...and was looking out for you, like I would. Because you stopped yourself." I look at his arm. "But you know what's more important? My birthday!" ~

"You think I forgot." I accuse, smiling. I can't stop smiling, even if I wanted to. ~

"No!" I laugh, taking in his smile. It's good to see that back. "But I'm just saying...there's something specific I wanted for my birthday." ~

"And...what's that?" ~

"You." I shove him and stand up. "Where's the bedroom?" ~

A/N: HOW ABOUT THAT CLIFFHANGER. I'll tell you all now, the smut isn't straight smut. Or described. It's hard to write smut in this style. Though I will write every instance of smut in this story as separate fics on here, eventually. I promise. Review! xx