In Fire and Blood

by Eienvine

The word's all over town: Peeta Mellark's dying. And when Katniss sees him cough up a rose petal, she realizes why. But she doesn't want to know who he loves so much it's killing him, or why his friends and family keep giving her significant looks. Because even if what she's begun to suspect is true, what's she supposed to do—force herself to fall in love with him to save his life?

. . . . . .

AN: I've never written Hanahaki before, but I thought it worked well for Peeta and Katniss! Angst abounds, but not forever. ?

A warning for readers: Katniss's mother struggles with her mental health in this, and Katniss doesn't respond to it well. I tried to keep it in line with the issues between those two in the first book, but if you don't like reading that kind of thing, you might not like reading this kind of thing. Also, Peeta is dying for much of the story. Again, if you don't like reading that kind of thing . . .

. . . . . .

In Fire and Blood

. . . . . .

In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.

- Pablo Neruda

. . . . . .

She first suspects that something is wrong when his smile is dimmer than usual one day.

(It will only occur to her much later how strange it is that she has subconsciously cataloged the smiles of this boy that she barely knows and barely notices, that she knows exactly how brightly he should smile at her and notices immediately when his smile falls short.)

She doesn't know what the problem is—doesn't begin to guess just how serious it is. All she knows is that one March morning she walks into the Mellark family bakery on Main Street on the way to work, the same as she's done once or twice a week since moving back to her hometown after graduating college in December, and Peeta Mellark smiles at her and it's not as bright as it should be.

"Good morning, Katniss," he says, and that's weaker than it should be too.

Katniss stares at him as he busies himself preparing her usual order: a cranberry scone and a bottle of orange juice from the fridge by the cash register. She might be imagining it, but it feels like he's going out of his way to avoid making eye contact with her.

"I hope you have a great day," he says when he hands her debit card back, and it's exactly the same thing he says every time she buys a scone from him but there's something different this time in the tone of his voice, cautious and wistful all at once.

Maybe it's nothing. Maybe she's imagining things. But worry gnaws at her mind the rest of the day.

. . . . . .

The next thing she knows, the word is all over town: Peeta Mellark is sick; no one knows with what. But he might be dying.

That hits her harder than she expects. She's known Peeta since they were five, technically; they went to the same elementary school, same middle school, and same high school, and were frequently in the same classes.

But for all that, she never really knew him. She spent from age eleven to sixteen being forced into the role of an adult: trying to keep her family together, put food on the table, and raise her little sister Prim, while their own mother—the woman who ought to have been doing all those things—stayed curled up at home, too lost in her own hurt and anxiety and fear to take care of her children or go outside or hold down a full-time job. So Katniss didn't have time for things like parties or school dances; her days were a closely packed lineup of school, then work, then homework, then bed, leaving no time for the usual things teenagers did. At lunch, she sat with Gale Hawthorne, who lived nearby and who knew what it was like to grow up too fast in order to help your family out. In classes, she spoke only if called on and never chatted with the people around her, except occasionally Madge Undersee. So she'd only talked to Peeta Mellark maybe two or three times before she went to college.

She does remember the last of those conversations very clearly, though. It was after her high school graduation; as she was looking for the table to return her rented graduation gown, Peeta had suddenly appeared before her.

"Katniss," he'd said with determination in his voice.

She'd blinked in surprise, as until that moment, she hadn't been sure that Peeta—cute, popular, outgoing Peeta Mellark—really knew who she was. "Peeta."

"Just wanted to say congratulations, and that it's been really great knowing you."

Katniss hadn't been aware that he thought that they did know each other, but she'd just nodded. "Yeah, same."

His face had lit up then. "So what are you doing next?"

"Panem University. You?"

"I'm hoping to go to culinary school. Pastry arts program. But I've got to save up money first." He'd hesitated. "Crazy to think that soon you'll be halfway across the country."

Katniss had been utterly uncertain where the conversation was going, so she'd just smiled and said, "Good luck with everything" before leaving. But it warmed her, whenever she thought of it, to think that someone at P.S. 12 other than Gale Hawthorne and Madge Undersee had known who she was.

And now he's dying. So yeah, the news hits harder than she'd expected.

When she sees Peeta next, though, it's clear as glass that he knows everyone knows but he doesn't want to talk about it: his defiant expression, his defensive posture, the way he says "Welcome to Mellark's" when she walks through the door as though everything is normal, even though nothing will ever be normal again. And Katniss knows what it's like to wish everyone would just let her pretend that everything is okay.

So she lets him pretend.

"Cranberry scone and an orange juice."

His defiant expression softens into a half-smile.

. . . . . .

It's Uncle Haymitch and Aunt Effie who confirm the rumor. They aren't really Katniss and Prim's aunt and uncle, of course; the Everdeens don't have any family. But the Abernathys are the nearest thing they have.

Haymitch grew up on the wrong side of the tracks, same as the Everdeens, but when he was in college, a disgruntled city employee brought a gun to work and killed four people, including Haymitch's mother, and the city gave him a massive pile of money as part of a settlement. Haymitch has never quite gotten over it and never quite forgiven the city, but he was smart with the money and turned it into a very lucrative investment portfolio.

Effie, who moved to town from Panem City around a decade ago, is Haymitch's wife, and never before has there been such an odd couple: where Haymitch is gruff and sardonic, Effie is outgoing and bubbly, and where Haymitch is content to wear the same shirt six days in a row—without washing it—Effie is a fashion queen. Katniss finds her kind but occasionally overwhelming; Prim, on the other hand, is best friends with the woman. The Abernathys bicker constantly, and a person would be forgiven for assuming they're always on the verge of divorce, but Katniss has seen them together enough to know that the bickering is good-natured and that Haymitch is crazy about his wife and utterly relies on her.

The summer before Katniss's junior year, she signed up for a mentorship program where former low-income kids who went to college help current low-income kids do the same; Haymitch, there on his wife's insistence, was assigned to be her mentor. He quickly took to Katniss, seeing a lot of himself in her; this led to him introducing her to Effie, which led to Katniss introducing them to Prim.

It was the Abernathys who first saw what Katniss had successfully hidden from a long string of teachers, neighbors, and school counselors: that the Everdeen children were not okay, and that sixteen-year-old Katniss had been the head of the family and the main breadwinner for the five years since her father's death, as Mrs. Everdeen's debilitating anxiety and agoraphobia kept her from going outside, taking care of her children, or doing much work. The Abernathys had discussed getting social workers involved, but on learning that Katniss was terrified of the possibility of ending up in the foster care system and getting separated from from Prim, they instead helped the Everdeens out with financial assistance, rides, emotional support, and—perhaps most importantly—getting Mrs. Everdeen into therapy, which has had middling success.

Cheerful, loving Prim is the one who first started calling them "Uncle Haymitch" and "Aunt Effie," and Haymitch acts all tough and untouchable but Katniss can see he's tickled pink every time he hears it. Though Prim is nearly grown now and Katniss has a proper job and is making proper money, the Abernathys still act the part of surrogate parents, which Katniss appreciates more than she can say. They kept an eye on Prim while Katniss was away at college, and now that she's back in town and living at home again, they're still more like parents than her mother has been in many years. In fact, they're a big part of the reason she came back to her hometown after graduating.

The Abernathys invite the Everdeens over for dinner a couple times a month; their mother never comes—four years of therapy helped a lot with her anxiety, but she still avoids going outside when she can—but Katniss and Prim have always loved the excellent food and the beautiful home. Prim continued to have dinner with the Abernathys while Katniss was at college, and now that Katniss is back home and living with her mother and sister again, she's been folded back into the dinner tradition.

And it's at one of these dinners that the topic of Peeta Mellark comes up.

Effie runs an event planning business; her office is on Main Street next to the Mellark family's bakery, and she hires them often to cater events. This means she works often with Peeta, as she always insists on him being her point of contact. ("He's obviously the brains and the talent of the business," Effie had told Katniss once. "Besides, have you ever met his mother? Awful woman. Much better to deal with the son.") So she, and by extension Haymitch, have become good friends with Peeta.

Prim is the one who brings it up. "You're friends with Peeta Mellark, aren't you? Is he really as sick as everyone says? Could he really . . . die?"

Katniss shoots a fond look at Prim, who is absurdly compassionate. She's planning to study nursing when she leaves for college next month, and Katniss can't think of a better profession for her.

Haymitch and Effie exchange a glance, one so full of meaning and unspoken communication that Katniss and Prim exchange a look of their own in response. "He is very sick," Effie says carefully. "Whether he will die, however, remains to be seen."

Haymitch tilts his head at his wife. Effie raises her eyebrows, and somehow that answers his unspoken question enough that he goes back to his meal. Katniss has no intention of ever marrying, but she has to admit there's something pleasant about the idea of having someone understand you as thoroughly as the Abernathys understand each other.

. . . . . .

It's a total accident that Katniss learns the nature of Peeta's disease.

He's been bravely carrying on, though when she visits the bakery, Katniss can tell that he's a little short of breath and prone to coughing these days. And Katniss, respecting his strength and his desire for privacy, does not say anything.

But one day she walks down to Effie's work so they can go out to lunch—the accounting firm Katniss works at is only two blocks away from Effie's office, so it's an easy stroll she makes often—and as she passes the alley by the bakery, she hears someone behind the building coughing as though they're about to expel an entire lung. Without thinking, she rushes down the alley, pulling out her phone in case she needs to dial 911.

It's Peeta, which somehow Katniss hadn't expected although she should have—who else at the bakery is sick? He's bent over, bracing himself against the wall of the bakery with one outstretched arm. He hasn't seen her yet, and Katniss isn't sure whether to say something or back away.

He gives one more hacking, shuddering cough, and something flutters from his mouth and toward the ground. He half-heartedly reaches for it but doesn't catch it, so it drifts down to the pavement.

And Katniss can only stare. The thing he just coughed up is a rose petal.

Peeta looks up then and sees her there, and his expression fills with shame.

"Katniss," he says hoarsely.

She takes a step back. "I should go."

Of course, she can't help bringing it up once she and Effie get to the restaurant. Effie would know; she's a busybody, and also she's Peeta's friend. So Katniss tells her about seeing Peeta coughing, about seeing the rose petal. "Is it . . . Hanahaki?"

Effie looks at her a moment with big, somber eyes. And then she nods.

And Katniss sits back in her chair, letting out a long, slow breath. She's heard of Hanahaki disease, of course; who hasn't? Cases are rare, but everyone talks about them when they happen; the details are just too shocking to ignore. Flowers take root in your chest, making you cough up flower petals, as a manifestation of your unrequited love for another person . . . and if the person never starts to return your affection, the flowers grow bigger until they block your airways and you die. There's a metaphor in there somewhere, but Katniss isn't quite sure where. She's an accountant, after all, not a poet.

"Who is it?" Katniss asks. "The person he loves?" Because she can't imagine Peeta falling for someone and having her not fall back. He's so good, so strong, so handsome, so charismatic; how could he suffer from unrequited love?

But Effie just looks at her, and then she shakes her head. Either Effie doesn't know, or Effie isn't going to tell her, and either way it's a waste of time to press her for answers; the woman can be quite stubborn when she wants to be.

But it doesn't stop Katniss from thinking about it for a long, long time.

. . . . . .

"Did you hear about Mellark?" Gale asks her the next time they get together, confirming to Katniss that the news has made it all the way out to The Seam.

"What about him?" Katniss asks warily, as though she doesn't know.

"That he's dying," says Gale. "Come on, you have to know that. Isn't Effie Abernathy buddies with him?" Gale was never as close to the Abernathys as Katniss was, but they occasionally helped the Hawthornes out financially, so he knows them well enough.

It's weird, this sudden instinct she has to protect Peeta from Gale's gossip. "I mean, that's what I hear. But no one knows much of anything."

"Huh," says Gale, without much sympathy. He never cared for Peeta—not because of anything Peeta did personally, but because Gale always resented anyone at school with money, and the Mellark family was, compared to the Hawthornes, well-off. "What do you think it is?"

Katniss takes a sip of her water and resigns herself to the fact that their lunch is going to be full of gossip about Peeta Mellark. She and Gale only rarely see each other; after high school graduation, he went to a nearby trade school and then got a job as a machinist in a small town called The Seam, about a half-hour away. The distance makes it hard for them to visit each other often, and now he wants to spend their rare lunch together talking about Peeta, a guy he doesn't even like.

Feeling strangely irritated and strangely protective of Peeta, Katniss shrugs. "Don't know."

"Rory saw him," Gale says. "Said he was short of breath and coughing a lot. Lung disease, maybe?" Then something seems to occur to him, and he laughs. "Or what's that disease where you cough up flowers if the person you love doesn't love you back?"

He's amused by his idea, but something sharp and hot flares in her chest. "Don't joke about that," she says. "Can you imagine? What an awful way to go."

"It sounds horrible," Gale agrees, but that doesn't stop him from wanting to talk about it. "What would you do if you had it? Would you tell the person? Or just keep it to yourself and slowly waste away?"

Has Peeta told whoever it is? Or is he planning to keep it to himself and let it slowly kill him? Katniss can't guess. "Probably die," she says honestly.

Gale laughs. "That sounds like you, Catnip. Okay, the opposite question: what if someone told you they had it because of you, and if you didn't love them back, they'd die?"

This conversation is getting worse. "That's a hard question."

"But I mean, what can you do?" Gale goes on. "Try to force yourself to love them? Can you force yourself to fall in love?" He shakes his head. "I don't think I'd bother trying. You know, unless she was amazing. It'd be sad that this person was dying, but I don't owe anyone my life like that, you know?"

Katniss doesn't respond because she doesn't know her answer. She doesn't think she owes anyone her life like that either, but to hear Gale say it so callously gives her pause. (Briefly, she reflects that this is why she and Gale never dated. He hinted a time or two that he'd like to, but she always turned him down, and it wasn't until she was away at college that she finally could articulate why: Gale is a reliable, protective, loyal guy, but he has a streak of hardness in him—even the potential for cruelty—that has always put her off.)

But he's right; what could you do, try to force yourself to fall in love to save someone's life? Is that even possible?

She thinks of Peeta's stricken, shame-filled face when he realized she'd seen the rose petal, and something inside of her hurts.

. . . . . .

It's the night before Prim goes off to college. It's only late May; Katniss was hoping she'd have until August to spend with her sister, but Panem University is on a three-semester track system where a third of the freshmen get assigned to start school in May for the summer semester, and Prim was one of them.

Haymitch and Effie took the sisters out to dinner to celebrate (Mrs. Everdeen was invited for the sake of politeness, but, as always, turned down the invitation), then dropped them off at the family's home, promising to come back early the next morning; Effie is flying with Prim out to Panem City to help her get settled at the university, as she did when Katniss started college. Their mother is already asleep when they arrive; she's been sleeping a lot lately (which worries Katniss, but she's focusing on getting Prim off to school now and will deal with her mother later). And now it's just the Everdeen sisters left awake at the house, spending one last evening together before they are parted.

And compassionate, tender-hearted little Prim can only talk about Peeta Mellark. "Will you tell me how he's doing when you e-mail me? I'm going to worry about him when I'm gone."

"Worry about him?" Katniss says with a surprised little laugh. "I didn't even know you knew the guy."

"Of course I do," says Prim, surprised. "I go to the bakery a lot. He's always super nice to me. He gives me extra cookies when it's exam time at school, or if it's a holiday or my birthday."

And the thought of Peeta Mellark knowing when Prim's birthday is and giving her a cookie to celebrate pulls Katniss up short. "I . . . wow. I didn't realize that."

"He's a really nice guy," says Prim, her voice sad and wistful. "I never could figure out why you weren't friends with him, Katniss."

"Friends? With Peeta Mellark?"

"Yeah," says Prim, like it should be obvious. "Back in high school. When he really wanted to be friends with you."

Katniss blinks a few times. "He wanted to be friends with me?"

Prim has been finishing packing away a few last items, but at that she turns to Katniss in surprise. "You didn't know?" She laughs a little. "I guess you really weren't paying attention. But I saw you two together sometimes, and every time you two were in the same place, he always looked at you like he really wanted to come over and talk to you, but he couldn't figure out what to say. And any time I went into the bakery, he asked about you."

That's impossible, Katniss thinks, but then she remembers him approaching her at graduation to tell her it had been really great knowing her; she remembers him sounding like he really meant it, like it wasn't just something he was saying to be polite. And she thinks of how excited he was the first time she stepped into the Mellark bakery after moving back to town in January; she thinks of how he's got her order memorized, how he always picks the biggest scone for her, how he always tries to make conversation with her. So maybe it's just possible, she thinks, and her world tilts on its axis, just a little.

She was too caught up in her own worries back in high school to make room for more friends. But now, with a few more years of experience and wisdom under her belt, she looks back at her lonely, somber adolescent self and wishes that she'd opened her eyes enough to let Peeta Mellark be her friend.

And now he's dying.

Why does that thought hit her so hard every time it crosses her mind?

"I didn't know," she murmurs.

"Well, you know now," says Prim. "So maybe it's time to finally be his friend. I bet he could really use friends right now."

Katniss nods, still feeling off-kilter. "I'll keep that in mind."

. . . . . .

Maybe it's inevitable that Katniss would catch another of Peeta's petal-coughing fits, given that she's seeing him more these days. Prim's words have been plaguing her, and she's started going to the bakery for breakfast more often—and for lunch on occasion, after she discovers that the bakery's meat pies are to die for. She even accompanies Effie one time when the woman stops by the bakery just to say hello, and she considers doing the same on her own but can never quite bring herself to do it. What on earth would she say to him? "Just stopping by because I'm sorry you're dying"?

The point is, she's at the bakery more, so statistically speaking, it makes sense that she'd be more likely to happen to catch one of his coughing fits.

It's a weird visit even before he starts coughing, because Mrs. Mellark is behind the counter with Peeta. Normally she's in the office upstairs, where she runs the business side of things; Peeta and Mr. Mellark do the actual baking, and Peeta mans the front counter. Katniss barely knows Mrs. Mellark, but she's never liked her; on those rare situations she's seen her at the bakery, she's always gotten an aggressive vibe off the woman, and Peeta's body language is different when he's around her—more defensive, more closed off. Despite not having any particular connection to Peeta, Katniss has always disliked his mother for that, as she'd dislike any parent who made their own child uncomfortable.

Mrs. Mellark has always ignored Katniss, as she ignores most people, so it's surprising to walk in this morning and see the woman giving her a glare that could peel paint off a house. With no way to know what she did wrong, Katniss focuses on Peeta. "Cranberry scone and an orange juice, please."

Peeta gives her a sweet little half smile, then turns to his mother, who's in front of the fridge. "Could you grab an OJ?"

There's a strange moment of tension as Mrs. Mellark stares down her son, and then she very begrudgingly opens the fridge and yanks a bottle from it, like a petulant child being forced to do something against her will. As soon as Peeta has taken it from her hand and set it on the counter, she storms to the door that leads upstairs to her office. Peeta's smile fades. He turns to Katniss, then glances back at the door his mother just exited through, then back at Katniss.

"Sorry—" he says, and then he's cut off as he suddenly starts coughing.

His coughs are quiet at first, but grow in intensity until they're shaking his whole body. He catches the edge of the counter to hold himself up, his head bowed, while Katniss stands awkwardly and watches, uncertain what to do: she can't leave without paying for her orange juice, and anyway she doesn't want to abandon him, but she has no idea how to help him or whether he even wants her help.

He's coughing so hard now that she fears he's going to throw up—that happened to her college roommate one time—and he's sucking in these desperate, gasping breaths between coughs but he still doesn't seem to be getting enough air. He glances up at her once and she sees genuine fear in his eyes, and that's what spurs her into motion.

"Peeta!" she exclaims, and steps forward, her hand hovering awkwardly over his shoulder for a moment before lightly settling on it.

He shakes his head, but she doesn't know what he means by it.

The door behind them jingles as someone enters, and Katniss hears Effie's worried exclamation. "Peeta! Can you breathe?"

The commotion seems to have finally caught Mrs. Mellark's attention, because she comes back into the main bakery area a moment later. "Peeta!" she exclaims, and Katniss thinks that's genuine concern she hears in the woman's tone.

"Should we call an ambulance?" Effie asks.

Mrs. Mellark looks up and her face settles back into that angry glare from earlier. "I think you've done enough," she snaps in response to Effie's question, but her glare is fixed on Katniss, who takes a surprised step backward. "I'll drive him to the ER."

Peeta gives one massive cough, louder than all the others so far, and a sodden mass flies from his mouth and lands on the counter: rose petals, four or five of them all clumped together, the white petals faintly tinged with blood.

"Peeta," Katniss whispers in horror.

His coughing subsiding, Peeta looks up at her, and there's shame and weariness and fear and resignation there.

Mrs. Mellark puts her hand on his back. "I hope you're happy," she hisses at Katniss with so much venom that both Katniss and Effie lean away from her.

"I don't know what you're talking about," says Katniss.

"Don't play coy," the woman snarls.

Effie takes hold of Katniss's arm. "Let us know if there's anything we can do to help," she says politely, and pulls Katniss from the bakery.

Katniss stands out on the sidewalk in front the bakery, squinting against the June sunlight as her mind reels. A whisper of suspicion twists in her stomach—but that's impossible. Isn't it?

"Effie," she begins, but then she can't think of how to continue.

After a few moments, her surrogate aunt smiles sadly at her. "I should get to work," she says, and walks away, leaving Katniss standing alone and baffled on Main Street.

. . . . . .

Katniss is not going to ask. She's not. Nothing good can come from asking Effie what Mrs. Mellark meant; nothing good can come from asking her if the growing suspicion that has coiled around her heart like a snake these last few days is justified. She doesn't want to know the truth; she's got her own stuff going on, what with her new job and her mother's worsening mental health struggles, and she doesn't have the emotional bandwidth to take on Peeta Mellark's problems as well. She feels bad for the guy, but she cannot do anything more than pity him from a distance.

So for three days she stays away from the bakery, and she even stays away from the Abernathys because they'll probably have the latest updates on Peeta and she doesn't want to know. She's fairly certain he's not dead, as she's fairly confident that she would have heard if that were the case. And if he's still living, there's no point in asking about him because there's nothing she can do for him.

She sticks to this "completely avoid any mention of Peeta" plan for three days, and then she gets an e-mail from Prim.

Rue e-mailed me, it reads. She said that Peeta had to be taken to the ER and now no one's seen him for a while. Why didn't you tell me that in your last e-mail? Is he okay? Have you heard anything? I'm so worried I can barely focus on anything else.

And now Katniss feels bad because she remembers how much they owe him: that he looked after Prim and made sure she had something special for her birthday, while her own mother often couldn't be bothered to do as much. And she finally, reluctantly decides that the least she can do is ask Haymitch and Effie about him.

So she goes to the Abernathy home after dinner and they invite her in to visit. "I've heard from Prim," she explains. "She heard about Peeta and is really worried about him. Have you heard anything? Is he okay? Is he back at the bakery?"

Effie and Haymitch exchange glances. "He's taking a leave from the bakery," Effie says. "The doctor believes it'd be better for him to take a break—it's such a physically demanding job, you know, with such early hours."

Katniss blinks. "And his mom's okay with that?"

Haymitch snorts. "She's furious she'll have to hire extra help, but she can't insist her own son work himself to death. It'd make her look bad in front of the neighbors."

"Haymitch!" Effie scolds.

"Am I wrong?"

Effie rolls her eyes fondly.

"So he's just going to sit at home all day?" Katniss asks. Come to think of it, she has no idea whether Peeta lives with his parents, in his own place, with roommates . . . come to think of it, she has no idea whether he's single or in a relationship, although the fact that he has Hanahaki makes the latter seem unlikely.

"Actually, the doctors thought it would be best if he got a change of scenery."

"Away from his mom, more like," Haymitch mutters. "Why are you glaring, Eff? I'm right."

"So we've offered him use of the cabin, for as long as he needs it."

"Oh," says Katniss. "That's definitely a good place to relax."

Haymitch bought the cabin before he met the Everdeens or Effie, a place in the forest about a half-hour outside of town where he can get away from the real world on occasion. It's fairly large, but when he first bought it, it was a pretty underwhelming place, filled with outdated and ugly furniture; when he married Effie, she remodeled and furnished the place and made it into quite the vacation spot, with a massive kitchen, a gas fireplace, a TV, a pool table, comfortable outdoor couches on the covered patio, and a seating area around a firepit outside. The Abernathys take Katniss and Prim there often, and it's one of Katniss's favorite places in the whole world.

Still, as much as she loves the place . . . "Is it a good idea for someone with a serious disease to move a half-hour from the nearest hospital?"

Effie glances at her husband. "He . . . well, the doctor has prescribed some pain medication, but other than that . . . well . . ."

"There's nothing the doctors can do now," Haymitch says bluntly. "This is hospice care at this point."

The terrible finality of that washes over Katniss and for a moment she's trapped under the weight of it. "Is it as bad as that?" she says quietly.

Effie nods, and when Katniss looks over at her, she's looking pleadingly back as though she's on a ship that's sinking and Katniss is the only one who knows where the lifejackets are. She clearly wants Katniss to do something, and Katniss finds that very worrying.

She's promised herself not to ask, but her curiosity has been growing and growing, and finally, in a moment of weakness, she caves. "Who is it? Who's killing him?"

Haymitch turns a pained little smile on her. "Do you really want to know the answer to that question?"

Katniss stares at him, then shakes her head. "No, I don't," she says, and leaves.

. . . . . .

She e-mails Prim about Peeta and the cabin, and then she endeavors to put him entirely from her mind. If it's her that's caused his Hanahaki disease, as she's increasingly come to fear—well, she can't help the fact that he was dumb enough to fall for someone he barely knows.

But even as she thinks that, she can't help remembering Prim saying "He always wanted to be your friend." She can't help remembering his friendliness at graduation and every time she's seen him since January. Maybe they have more of a connection that she'd realized, although it was mostly all on his side.

The point is, it doesn't matter. It can't matter. She tells herself over and over again that she doesn't care at all and she's not going to think about it. . . but the truth is that she's fixated on him these days. She can't help it; she finds her thoughts drifting to him every time she's got a moment to herself: wondering what he's doing now, wondering what it feels like to have flowers take root in your lungs and slowly choke off your air supply . . . wondering how he could have fallen in love with her so much.

If it is her that he's in love with.

She tells herself it doesn't matter for three days, and on the fourth day she gives in to the inevitable and goes to the Abernathys' house. "Is it me?" she demands without preamble.

Haymitch repeats his question from last time: "Are you sure you want to know the answer to that question?"

She nods grimly. "The idea is clearly going to haunt me. And if I'm going to feel guilty the rest of my life for unintentionally killing a guy, I'd rather know for sure whether I actually need to feel guilty."

Effie glances at Haymitch. And then she looks at Katniss and nods.

"How?" Katniss bursts out. "How can he like me that much? I barely know the guy! We don't talk. We didn't know each other in school, and now I only see him at the bakery."

There's a long pause, and then Haymitch gestures for Katniss to take a seat on the couch. She refuses, too agitated to settle. So he shrugs and then says, "Do you remember in seventh grade, when your homeroom teacher pulled you aside and said you'd been added to the free lunch list?"

Katniss frowns in confusion at the topic change, but she nods. That had been a hard time: her father had been dead a year, and with his death, Mrs. Everdeen's anxiety had spiraled out of control and developed into agoraphobia. On paper, she freelanced from home as a medical transcriptionist, but the truth was that she rarely had the energy and the willpower for it. Some months, she earned only few hundred dollars; other months, she earned nothing. Fortunately, the house was paid off, so they couldn't be kicked out, but in those days, they often didn't have enough food for all three of them. Any food they had went to Prim first, so there were a lot of days Katniss simply didn't eat. (Neither did Mrs. Everdeen, but Katniss had already begun to resent her mother for putting her daughters in this position, so she didn't really worry herself over whether her mother was eating.) So the free lunches at school, when they started, were a godsend.

"Your old homeroom teacher told me all of this later," Haymitch goes on. "She said you qualified for the program all along, but no one was aware you needed it; you were so good, even back then, at acting like you were fine when you weren't. The only person who knew you weren't was Peeta Mellark."

Katniss is utterly taken aback and can only blink at Haymitch.

"He went to the office and said 'There's a girl in my class who never has lunch and I'm worried.' So they got you on the list, and that's how you ended up with free lunches."

Katniss finally does sit, so surprised that her legs just give out.

"So when you say you barely know the guy, that you never interacted with him at school . . . that might be true for you, but he's been noticing you for a long, long time."

Katniss reels for a few moments while she pieces together this new understanding of her past and Peeta's part in it. Those free lunches figuratively, and quite possibly literally, saved her life. And to know that it was Peeta who set the ball rolling . . . Maybe he really has been paying attention. And maybe she owes him a lot more than she thinks.

And the realization, instead of softening her toward Peeta, just makes her angry, because now she feels guilty and she doesn't want to feel guilty; she's got enough to deal with. "So what am I supposed to do about it?" she snaps

Haymitch shrugs. "Honestly, not much you can do."

But Effie, it's clear from her expression, doesn't agree.

"What?" snaps Katniss.

Effie hesitates. "Are you certain you don't feel anything for him?"

Katniss barely resists the urge to roll her eyes. "I think I would know if I did."

Another hesitation, and then Effie says delicately, "You've spent so little time with him. Is there a chance that if you did spend time with him, you could fall in love with him?"

She's just worried about her friend and desperate for any way to save him, Katniss knows that, but it doesn't stop her from being irritated with the woman. "I can't make myself fall in love with somebody," she says sharply. "And I don't owe this guy my life," she adds, although deep down she's not sure that's entirely true, given what she's just learned.

"I know, I know," Effie says meekly.

Katniss leaves without saying goodbye.

. . . . . .

But she obsesses over Effie's words the next few days: is Effie right? If Katniss got to know Peeta better, could she fall in love with him enough to save his life? Is she condemning him to death by not even trying to get to know him?

(And she thinks more than once about how much she hates Hanahaki disease, for putting her in this vastly unfair position and making her ponder questions like "Could I fall in love with Peeta Mellark enough to save his life?")

She's never really been one for romance, to be honest. She has no interest in marriage or relationships, because watching her mother fall apart after her husband's death has convinced Katniss that letting someone into your life like that just gives them the power to destroy you. And she has no interest in having children, because watching her mother neglect her and Prim has convinced her that having children just gives you the power to destroy them. The whole concept of marriage and family kind of terrifies her, honestly. Plus she's always been too busy; she's spent from ages 11 to 13 learning to look after Prim because her mother was no longer able to; from 13 to 16 working her fingers to the bone to put food on the table; from 16 to 18 studying like crazy, applying for every scholarship she could find, and working to save money for other college expenses; and then from 19 to 22 spending all her free time studying and working, all to get herself to where she is now: finally financially stable. There was no time for dating there, even on those occasions she's found a guy attractive and there's been mutual interest.

Not that any of this matters. She's not dating Peeta, because she doesn't have feelings for him and she can't force herself to have feelings for him.

But despite all this, she can't help thinking about how guilty she'll feel when someone who has been so good to her and her sister dies and she has to live with knowing that she didn't do anything about it. Hence the obsessing, along with quite a lot of reading up on Hanahaki disease online (her findings: there's no medical cure, and it's an unpleasant way to die).

In the end, it's that fear of future guilt that spurs her to decide to go visit Peeta—that and the fact that she wants to prove to Effie, to Prim, and to herself that she can't force herself to fall in love with the guy. If she goes, she can say to them and to her future self, "See? I tried and it's not my fault that nothing came of it."

Besides, he made sure she had food when she was starving. The least she can do is go visit him.

So on the next Saturday, she gasses up her car and drives to the cabin. It might be polite to call ahead and check that he's okay with receiving visitors, but she doesn't have his contact info and she's not going to ask Effie for it because Effie will make a way bigger deal out of this than she needs to. So Katniss just goes.

It's twenty minutes to the edge of the forest and another ten to the cabin; it's been a while since Katniss has visited, and Haymitch has always driven her in the past, so she takes two wrong turns before she finds the right location. It's at the end of a long road with no other buildings on it, but the trees are so thick that it'd be hard to see any other buildings even if they existed. She feels like she's miles from civilization, like she's ducked into some unspoiled paradise.

Although the satellite dish on top of the cabin destroys any illusions she has of having left civilization behind completely.

She parks in the spacious driveway and is sitting behind the wheel, trying to force herself to get out of the car and go inside, when the front door opens; Peeta must have heard her car approach. He stands on the porch and stares at her, and she sits there and stares back, and she's already regretting coming up here.

"Hey," she says gruffly when she gets out of the car, because she can't just sit there and stare at him forever. "I wanted to come say hi. If that's okay."

Peeta stares at her a second longer, and then he chuckles and for a moment nothing has changed, because he's as warm and kind as ever. "Sure, come in. I've got nothing on my schedule today."

But things have changed, she thinks as she follows him into the house and to the sofas in the living room. He's dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt, and she's never seen him look so casual, not even when he's wrapped in an apron and covered in flour, as she's seen him a few times at the bakery. More striking is his physical appearance: there are dark circles under his eyes, and he's lost weight—not a dangerous amount, but enough for her to notice.

"So how are you?" she asks, and then kicks herself, because she can see for herself how he is.

"I'm all right, honestly," he says, clearly electing to try to make this a cheerful conversation. "I've really been enjoying this break. I've been waking up at four to get to the bakery for . . . more years than I can remember. It's nice to get to sleep in."

Katniss nods. "The cabin's nice," she says, because apparently she can only make inane conversation when she's with him.

"It really is," says Peeta, looking around. "When Haymitch and Effie first mentioned it, I was picturing something really rustic—you know, log walls and a dirt floor. But this is nicer than my parents' house."

Katniss looks around the ground floor: the massive living room with its stone fireplace and leather couches, the mahogany dining table across the way, the kitchen with its granite countertops and huge gas stove. "I think that the utility closet here is probably nicer than my parents' house."

Peeta laughs aloud at that, and it surprises Katniss how pleased with herself she is for making him laugh. It gives her the confidence to ask, "So what are you doing with your time?"

"Cooking, watching TV, sleeping a lot. Catching up on all the books I've been meaning to read."

He speaks casually, but now she's wondering if he's thinking that he's rapidly running out of time to read all the books on his "To read in this life" list, and suddenly she's uncomfortable again. She stares at the ground, trying hard to think of something to say to fill what feels to her like a very awkward silence; luckily, Peeta's better at keeping a conversation going than she is.

"I've had lots of visitors, too," he says. "Haymitch and Effie have come by. My brother Bran is deployed overseas, but Rye flew in to stay with me for a while; he just left yesterday morning. And my parents have been up here six or seven times already."

"That's nice," says Katniss, wondering why his parents don't stay with him full-time.

And maybe that leaks into her voice somehow, because he says, his smile dimming just a fraction, "All three of them wanted to stay longer, but I told them not to bother. They've got their own lives to get back to, and I'm enjoying spending some time alone for once. Anyway, I . . . think they don't need to worry just yet. Time-wise, I mean." It's the first time either of them has hinted at his disease during this visit.

She immediately knows what he means, from her obsessive Internet searches on the topic. Her decidedly non-expert opinion, based on how well he's still talking and breathing, is that he's not in any danger just yet. He probably still has months, even up to a year, left. And the fact that he's taking this extended vacation up here on his own tells her that his doctors probably agree with her.

She can't help but ask, "You really don't mind being up here alone?"

He gives her a rueful little smile. "Honestly, no. I haven't been alone much in my life. I've never lived by myself before, and other than when I was in culinary school—when I had roommates—I've never lived outside my parents' house. So this is kind of fun and new. I love the scenery and being up in the mountains. And I have enough visitors that I don't get lonely." He shrugs. "Plus I don't plan to stay up here forever; at some point I'll go back into the city. It's just nice getting some peace and quiet for a little while."

Katniss doesn't know where to go from there, and she fights the urge to check her watch. She decided earlier that it took a half-hour to get here, so she has to stay for at least a half-hour, or it will have been a waste of a drive. But she's not really sure what to talk about now.

Fortunately, Peeta speaks up again. "And I love this cabin. The only problem with it is that the firepit area is so cool that I always want to use it but I don't know how to build a fire."

Now this is something Katniss can handle. "I'll teach you to build a fire," she offers.

Peeta agrees, looking excited, and they spend the rest of the half-hour out at the firepit, Katniss showing him how to start the fire with crumpled newspaper and kindling and then slowly build it up with bigger pieces of wood. She's pleased when the fire is burning merrily, but she's more pleased when the half-hour is up.

"I should probably get going," she says. "Long drive back to the city."

Peeta's smile falters for a moment, but then he pastes it back on. "Thanks for visiting," he says, and she can tell from the hint of resignation in his tone that he thinks she won't come back. There's no good way to respond to that resignation—he's right that she doesn't intend to come back—so she just smiles wanly at him and makes her way to her car.

And then she just stands there, her keys in her hand, unable to open the door yet. None of this makes sense to her—not even after Effie's confirmation of Peeta's feelings and Haymitch's story of how Peeta has apparently always been aware of her. It makes no sense that he could love her enough to die of it. And she finds herself spinning around before she's realized she's going to. "Is it true, what Effie said?" she blurts out. "Is it me?"

Peeta is standing on the porch, and he looks at her a long time. Then his expression falls into something that is simultaneously weary and dignified, and he gives her a single nod.

She stares, and then she nods back, and then she gets in her car and drives away.

. . . . . .

Ten minutes after Katniss has written her weekly e-mail to her sister, her phone rings, and when she answers it, in lieu of a hello she gets an excited "I'm so glad you went to see Peeta!"

"Hello to you too," Katniss says wryly.

"Hi, I'm great, school is fun," Prim says, jokingly dismissive. "Now, tell me how Peeta is doing."

So Katniss gives her a summary of the visit. She's torn between her own inclination toward straightforward honesty and a desire not to upset her sister too much, so she admits that Peeta is looking a little tired these days but makes sure to focus on how cheerful he was and on how he didn't cough once while she was there.

"I'm glad to hear it," says Prim earnestly. "The next time you go, could you do something for me? Could you make him cookies for me?"

There are so many problems with that idea that Katniss hardly knows where to start. But she knows Prim won't like that she isn't planning on going back, so instead she starts with, "I can't bake."

"It's not hard," says Prim. "You just follow the recipe."

"Besides," says Katniss, "he's a baker. If he wants cookies, I'm sure he can make his own."

"That's not the point," says Prim. "The point is that it's nice to get cookies from someone. It shows that they were thinking about you."

"Why do you want me to give him cookies so much?"

"Because he always gave me cookies," Prim says as though it should be obvious, and in retrospect, it probably should be. "And it made me feel good. It made me feel like somebody was aware of me. They cared about me. And now he is all alone and he's dying, and I want him to know that somebody is aware of him and cares about him. But I can't go myself."

Katniss wonders if Prim would be so keen to have her visit Peeta if she knew the whole story of his disease. Would she think Peeta would be happy to have Katniss around when it'd just remind him that she doesn't love him and so he's going to die?

But then she remembers him telling her goodbye on Saturday, and how he was clearly disappointed that she was leaving and resigned that she wasn't coming back. Maybe he'd be happy to have her visit again.

"It's weird, Prim. I barely know the guy."

"Then don't do it for him," Prim says. "Do it for me. How many times have you said 'Tell me if there's anything you need from me'?"

"A lot," Katniss admits.

"And how many times have I asked you for anything?"

A long pause. "Zero."

"Well, I'm finally asking. Are you really going to say no?"

Prim has always had a knack for changing Katniss' mind. "Fine," Katniss groans. "But the cookies are going to be terrible and he's going to hate them."

"Give him my love," says Prim serenely.

So the next Saturday morning, Katniss pulls up the recipe that Prim has e-mailed her, and then she goes to the store to buy the ingredients she doesn't have (which is most of them), and then she makes the cookies. Her mother wanders in at one point and watches for a while, but then she loses interest and leaves again, which is a pretty good metaphor for their entire relationship.

Effie gave her Peeta's cell number after Katniss explained about Prim's cookies, and Katniss reluctantly pulls it up and types out a text.

It's Katniss. Can I come by in a little while and drop something off?

The response is swift.

Sure, I'll be here all day.

An hour later, she is standing at the cabin door with a plate covered with cookies. They don't look quite right, she thinks, but she couldn't begin to guess why. Peeta has gotten ready for her visit: with his button-down shirt and his carefully styled hair, he looks rather handsome. (He always was handsome, she suddenly remembers, even when they were kids.)

"Katniss," he says with a pleased smile, then looks down at the plate. "Is that what you're dropping off?"

Suddenly uncomfortable again, Katniss nods.

"Come in," he beckons, stepping back, then hesitates. "Unless you can't stay . . . ?"

Half-hour drive, half-hour visit, she reminds herself. "I can stay."

In the house, Peeta goes to the kitchen and starts moving the cookies to another plate—so she can take her own plate home with her, she realizes. It didn't even occur to her that maybe he should have put them on a paper plate. "Thanks for the cookies," he says. "I didn't know you baked."

"I don't," she says flatly, leaning against the marble-topped island in the center of the kitchen. "You might really regret eating those."

Peeta just laughs. "So what made you decide to bake today?" he asks.

"Prim," she says. "She asked me to make these for you."

Peeta's hands still, and his shoulders sink the tiniest bit, but when he looks up at her he's smiling again. And it occurs to her that he probably hoped that she made these for him because she wanted to, and now he's disappointed.

Suddenly eager to explain for reasons she can't quite name, she says, "She told me that you always gave her free cookies when she came by the bakery. On her birthday and stuff. That was . . . really nice of you."

He just shrugs it off. "It was nothing," he says, and suddenly it's important to her that he know it's not nothing.

"I mean it," she says. "It means a lot to me that when I couldn't be here for her birthday, you were looking out for her." And then, with emphasis: "Thank you, Peeta."

He looks up at her with a sweet little smile. "You're welcome." And then he asks, "So can I try one of these?"

"You might regret it," she warns him.

He just smiles at her and takes a bite—and then the smile vanishes from his eyes.

"Is it terrible?" Katniss demands.

"Did you put all the ingredients in the mixer at once?" he asks delicately.

She nods. "Seemed like it would save time."

He chews with obvious difficulty, though she can see he's trying to hide it, then swallows. "And how much baking powder did you put in there?"

"I knew it, they're terrible," she says lowly, cursing Prim for thinking it was a good idea to bake for a baker, of all people.

"I love them," Peeta assures her. "I love that Prim was thinking about me, and I love that she talked you into baking for me. But . . . in the future I'd read the recipe a little more closely."

Katniss looks down and tries not to squirm. For all her embarrassment, though, there's something strangely comfortable about this moment: her and Peeta Mellark, all alone in the woods and twenty miles away from home and from their real lives.

There's even something strangely comfortable about knowing that he loves her; her embarrassment over the cookies dissipates fast, she finds, because she already knows that Peeta thinks she's someone worth admiring. She's not trying impress him; she's not trying to prove anything to him. And that comfortable feeling prompts her to offer a piece of information she hadn't expected to tell him: "I've never been a good cook," she says. "For the last ten years I've mostly survived on cereal and sandwiches." Which means that poor Prim also mostly survived on cereal and sandwiches, but Katniss doesn't bring that up. There's a good chance that Peeta's already figured it out.

Peeta chuckles. "It's a useful skill. If you ever want lessons . . ." He hesitates, then glances around the kitchen, and maybe he's been lulled by that strange comfortable feeling just as she has, because then he offers, "You know, Effie keeps the pantry fully stocked. If you want to learn to make cookies, I could teach you."

The offer is made casually, but she can see in his eyes that he wants her to say yes. Her first instinct is to retreat, but she feels bad when she remembers how disappointed he was when she admitted that it was Prim's idea to give him cookies, not hers. And somehow, she finds that she doesn't want to disappoint Peeta. There's something about him, about his kind smile and his endless generosity, that makes her want to be generous back.

Besides, her initial objection stems mostly from the fear that it'll be awkward, but she's been in here for a while and it hasn't been awkward yet. And if he can be okay with her being there, then there's no reason for her to be awkward about it, right? He's the one who's dying of unrequited love, after all.

So she shrugs. "Yeah, that could be useful. Let's do it."

Peeta's smile is brighter than the sun. "Okay, let's do it," he repeats. So he pulls out the ingredients and the mixer, and he teaches her how to make cookies. He tells her about softening the butter and creaming it with the sugar, and about the importance of adding the ingredients in order. Katniss mostly sits back and watches, but he does make her help him scoop cookies onto the baking sheet and put them into the oven.

And she has a surprisingly nice time. The cookies give them something to talk about, meaning no awkward silences, and she learns that Peeta's a great teacher—no surprise there, since he's so good with people in general. And she's distracted enough that she forgets about this disease that hangs over his head and her very complicated feelings about it. Plus she learns how to make cookies, so really, it's a good way to spend her afternoon.

Some time later, they are sitting on the covered porch, enjoying the fruits of their labors and talking idly. "You know what you cooked once that I really loved?" she finds herself saying at one point.

"Cranberry scones?" he guesses with a smile.

"Those are good," she agrees. "But you remember in our high school social studies class, when you were doing a report on Brazil and you made some kind of little Brazilian cheese bread?"

"Pão de queijo," he says with a funny little smile. "I'm surprised you remember that."

Suddenly embarrassed, she looks out over the forest so she doesn't have to look at him. "Well, they were really good. That's why I remembered."

Peeta grins. "I thought they turned out great too. I tried to convince my mom to start making them at the bakery. She didn't see the point; no Brazilians in town."

"You should do it," Katniss says. "I'd buy them."

Peeta is quiet a long moment, and then he says, "Well, I have almost everything to make them. If you brought me some tapioca flour . . ." He looks up at her, clearly trying to hide how hopeful he is, and Katniss stares at him for a long moment, and then finds herself nodding.

"Yeah, maybe some time."

He sends her home with a dozen cookies. When she gets in her car to leave, she looks at the clock and sees that ninety minutes have passed. Definitely worth the drive out here.

. . . . . .

"So I hear Mellark disappeared," says Gale at their next lunch. "Think he finally kicked the bucket?" He gets this little smirk on his face, like he thinks he's being funny. "Think he ate too many croissants and had a heart attack?"

"Leave him alone, Gale," Katniss says sharply. "He's a good guy, and he doesn't deserve what's happening to him, and he doesn't deserve you making fun of him behind his back."

Gale just stares at her, surprised, but Katniss refuses to apologize for or explain her outburst. She means it: Peeta deserves better than what he's gotten.

. . . . . .

Bought some tapioca flour. You around?

Yeah, absolutely, come by any time.

Katniss is more surprised than anyone to find herself at Peeta's door the next Saturday. But she was at the grocery store looking for brown sugar—Peeta mentioned it was a good thing to keep on hand—and she looked over, and there, looking back at her, was tapioca flour. It felt like a sign.

Besides, she's bored. For the last ten years, she's spent all her time balancing school and work and taking care of herself and Prim—even when Haymitch came into their lives and Katniss could stop worrying about putting food on the table, she was still working like crazy to save up for college and studying like crazy to try to get a scholarship—and she never had time to breathe, let alone get bored. But now she's got a proper grown-up job, and one that pays quite well; she has more money than she's ever seen in her life, so she doesn't have to work evenings anymore to make ends meet. These days she gets off work at 5 and then just has nothing to do all night . . . and no one to do it with.

It would surprise no one who knows Katniss to hear that she doesn't have many friends, and the ones she does have are nowhere nearby. Madge Undersee was her friend in high school—kind of—but she married young and moved to another state. The only college roommates she ever got close to, sweet-tempered Annie and anger-management-problem Johanna, live across the country. She only sees Gale about once a month, and even in high school, they were never friends in the usual way people are friends; basically they sat together at lunch, and in the evenings they'd do their homework together while their siblings played.

The point of all of this is, baking cookies with Peeta last week is the closest she's come to hanging out with a friend in a while. She's a little lonely and could use a friend, and he's dying and wants to spend time with her. And if it gives a dying man comfort in his last months to teach her to bake . . . well, it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if they hung out, right?

So she buys the tapioca flour and texts Peeta.

Just like the last time they baked together, he does most of the work and she mostly sits there and watches, and they talk. They have more to discuss than she realized: work and family and mutual acquaintances and movies they've seen. He's a great listener, and she finds herself telling him all about her job.

"I have to say, I never would've pegged you as an accountant," he says. They are once again sitting on the covered porch, eating the results of their efforts: pão de queijo, piping hot and just as good as Katniss remembers. "When we were kids, I thought you'd become . . . I don't know, president or something. You were so serious and dedicated. Why accounting?"

"Because I read an article in high school that said that if you study accounting, the pay is good and you can always get a job."

He quirks a grin at her. "That's the whole reason? Didn't you have some dream job you wanted to do?"

"Pursuing a dream job is a luxury that's for people who come from money," Katniss says bluntly. "I wanted financial stability more than I wanted a dream job. Besides, there wasn't anything I was dying to do." Then, feeling like she's shared too much, she asks, "What about you? Did you stay at the bakery because you love it? Or because it's practical?"

"Because it was expected, at least at first. My parents wanted someone to help them run the bakery, and Bran enlisted and Rye moved out of state. I was the only one left."

Katniss nods seriously. "And do you like it?"

He smiles. "I do. For a while I resented feeling like I didn't get to choose, but I realized pretty quickly that it's the perfect job for me. I like working with my hands and being creative, and I like making things that make people happy." He grins and gestures with the little cheese bun in his hand. "Like pão de queijo. I think that if I'd left the bakery and done something else for a while, I would eventually have realized that I missed it and I would have gone back."

Katniss wonders what that's like: to feel like you've found your calling in life, the thing that will always draw you back in. She's not sure she's ever loved anything she's done as much as Peeta clearly loves baking. "So what's your favorite thing to bake?" she asks.

He shrugs. "I like cakes and sugar cookies so that I can frost them."

"So how do you make a cake? Like, one of those tall ones for fancy events. Tell me the process."

Peeta seems surprised by the request, but he does it. And Katniss sits back and lets his words wash over her. It's not that she cares overly much about making a cake; it's that it's nice seeing his face light up. Not to mention, he has a very calming way about him—a very calming voice, in particular. They've never had a conversation this long before, so this is a pleasant new discovery about Peeta: that listening to him talk about the best way to construct a tiered cake soothes her in a way she would not have expected.

She stays over two hours this time, and when she leaves, "I'll see you around" slips from her lips more easily than it ever has before.

. . . . . .

Mom hasn't emailed me once since I got to school. Do you know why?

Katniss fights back a sigh as she puts her phone in her pocket and prepares to go talk to her mother. It probably isn't the best moment for it; she's not very patient with the woman at the best of times—being forced at the age of eleven to become the only grownup in the family has a way of making a person resent their mother—and this is definitely not the best of times. It's 5:00 on a Friday, the end of a long workday at the end of a long workweek, and she's tired and irritable and now she's worried about Prim feeling neglected.

And it's frustrating, this latest relapse in their mother, because things were good for a while. After Haymitch and Effie paid to get Mrs. Everdeen into teletherapy, back in Katniss's junior year of high school, things got better. It took a long while, but by the time Katniss was getting ready to go to college, Mrs. Everdeen was the closest to her old self that she'd been in the last seven years. She still rarely left the house, but she was working for at least a few hours most days, she was helping with housework, and she even took over paying the bills. Prim and Katniss still had to do all the grocery shopping and errands, but still, it was the closest they'd had to normality in a long time. It was enough that, between her improvement and the Abernathys keeping an eye on things, Katniss had no worries about leaving Prim to go to college.

But something shifted over time, and about a year ago—during Katniss's senior year of college—Mrs. Everdeen announced she was fixed and so she was done with therapy. No amount of persuasion could convince her to continue her online sessions with Dr. Heavensbee, so they gave up on trying. And it was actually all right at first; Prim reported that her mother seemed to carry on just fine for the first six months.

It didn't last, though; since Katniss returned to town and moved back in with her family, she's noticed an increase in the number of her mother's bad days and a decrease in her ability to work, help around the house, and participate in family life. Katniss hasn't said anything about it yet, as she's been so focused on getting Prim off to college and also because she remembers what a fight it was to get her mother to do therapy in the first place.

But it looks like the time for that conversation has come.

She finds her mother in the living room, curled up on the couch and staring blankly at what looks like a rerun of an old game show on TV. If Katniss had to guess, she'd say it's one of the days when her mother didn't get much work done.

Mrs. Everdeen looks a little surprised when Katniss walks in, and no wonder, for Katniss never seeks her out; for two people who live in the same house, they spend very little time together.

"Hey Mom," Katniss says, working to keep her voice neutral. "I just heard from Prim. She said you haven't e-mailed her since she left, and she wishes you'd contact her more."

Her mother's gaze drifts back to the TV. "Yeah, I should do that."

And that's it; that's all she seems to plan to say. Katniss feels irritation flare up in her chest, sharp and hot. "You could do it right now," she suggests.

Her mother sort of burrows down deeper into the little ball she's curled up in on the couch. "I'll do it soon," she promises.

And there's no reason she has to do it right at this moment, but Katniss can't help being angered by her response. It's not about the e-mails, really; it's about the sense she has that she's been in this situation a thousand times before: asking her mother to step up and be a parent, and her mother just curling up in a ball and ignoring her. Katniss tries to be understanding because she knows mental health issues are hard, but sometimes, in her darkest moments, she wonders if her mother even cares about how much she's ruined her daughters' lives.

So she responds sharply, as she so often seems to do around her mother: "No problem, I'll just go tell Prim that Supermarket Sweep is more important to you than your daughter."

Now her mother looks up at her, her face hard. "Don't use that tone with me, Katniss," she says pointedly. "I'm your mother."

"Then act like it for once," Katniss snaps, and leaves the room before her mother can say anything else and this conversation can deteriorate into a full-on argument.

But there's nowhere to go in this house—nowhere that won't remind her of everything that irritates her about her mother and her current situation. She needs a drive, she decides, and grabs her car keys. She goes out to her car, pulls out of the driveway, and just starts driving.

She doesn't even notice she's following familiar roads until she's at the turnoff that leads into the forest. She makes the turn out of habit, then hesitates, then continues the drive to the cabin. If anyone can calm her down when she's upset, she suspects it's Peeta.

But by the time she's reached the cabin, her anger has cooled a little and she's thinking that coming here was a terrible idea. The poor guy's got enough to deal with without listening to her petty complaints. It's too late to turn around, though: Peeta's sitting on the porch, talking to someone on the phone, and when he sees her car he stands up.

She sees him say one last thing on the phone and then hang up, and now she's got no choice but to park her car and get out.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," she says awkwardly. "I just . . . I just needed to not be at home right now."

He gives her a sweet little half smile. "You're always welcome to not be at home here."

"Am I interrupting your phone call?"

"No, it was ending as you pulled up," he shrugs. "Rye was calling to check up on me." He hesitates. "So, you want to sit, or . . .?"

So she joins him on the porch and sits gingerly on the sofa next to him, and then she stares at her feet until Peeta says gently, "Do you want to talk about it?"

She's quiet a long moment. "I don't know." Another pause. "Do you ever just feel . . . trapped?"

What a stupid question: the guy's hanging out in the forest and waiting to die. Of course he feels trapped. But Peeta just smiles at her. "Are you feeling trapped at home?"

She hesitates, wondering how much she wants to tell Peeta, wondering how much she wants to give away about her messed-up home life. But then she thinks, he got her on the free lunch list in junior high because he saw that she had no food. He probably already knows her home life isn't ideal.

So she confesses, "I moved back into my family's house when I came back to town. To help out. But all it's doing is making me resent my mom."

"Could you move?"

She shakes her head. "My mom . . . things have been bad lately. She's sliding back to the way things were after my dad died. And if she gets like that again, she can't take care of herself. If I leave . . ."

They sit in silence a long time. And then Peeta, moving slowly (probably so she can move away if she wants), reaches out and sets a comforting hand on her forearm. Katniss freezes—she doesn't really get touched all that often, and she's okay with not changing that—but almost immediately she starts to melt. Peeta's hand is warm and dry and the feeling of it against her skin is kind of nice. In fact it's quite nice. In fact it's surprisingly comforting, and she has the strangest urge to slide even closer to him and lean her head on his shoulder. She has a suspicion that it would be even nicer than him putting his hand on her arm.

Obviously she doesn't do that, but she does find herself opening her mouth and telling him about her life: about how after her dad's funeral, her mom drove home and went into the house and has only been out of it a few times since then. She talks about how quickly her parents' savings ran out, and how they never knew if their mother was going to work enough to feed them that month. She talks about learning at a young age which local soup kitchens could be counted on to provide something to eat. She tells him about the heat being turned off on multiple occasions when they couldn't pay their bills. She tells him about learning to keep house and look after Prim and forge her mother's signature for those days when her mom couldn't be relied on to sign important papers. She tells him about getting her first job at 13 and how she hasn't had a break from working since then. She tells him how Haymitch's arrival in her life is the only reason she dared leave town to go to college, and how, now that she's back and living at home again, there's a part of her that fears she'll never be able to leave again.

And then she looks at Peeta, aghast at how much she's said. "Sorry," she mutters. "You probably didn't want to hear all of that. You've got enough on your plate."

Peeta hesitates, and then he reaches out so he can squeeze her hand. "Don't apologize," he says. "I don't mind. I'm glad to help, and honestly, it's a nice distraction from what's going on in my life." Then he winces. "I didn't mean to say that what you've been going through is nice—I mean—"

And Katniss surprises herself by laughing quietly. "I know what you mean," she says, and squeezes his hand back. And then she decides she's been letting Peeta hold her hand for far too long and it's getting weird, so she lifts that hand to tuck her hair behind her ear; he gets the hint and returns his hands to his own lap.

"I'm sorry you've been dealing with all that," he says quietly. "I suspected some of it, but I didn't realize it was that bad. I can't imagine what that would be like."

Katniss is quiet for a long few moments. And then, emboldened by the surprisingly intimate atmosphere on this porch, she says, "I think you know what it's like to have a complicated relationship with your mom."

He looks up at her, surprised, and she thinks she's said too much; should she have pretended not to notice his familial problems? But then his face breaks into a wry half-grin. "It is complicated," he agrees. "I know she loves me, in her own way. But her version of love is a little more . . . demanding than mine."

There's a long silence between them while Katniss listens to the leaves around them blowing gently in the breeze; the sun is creeping toward the mountains in front of her, and the clouds are beginning to glow peach and pink. It really is incredibly peaceful up here, isn't it? No wonder Peeta has decided to live at the cabin for a while. Without thinking, she finds herself asking, "Is that why you decided to stay up here for a while, instead of with your parents?"

There's that wry little smile again. "Yeah, that's a big part of it. I wanted to get away from it all for a little while."

Another long silence, and then Peeta glances at his watch. "Speaking of my parents," he says, "they're arriving in about ten minutes for dinner. If you don't want another scene like my mom yelling at you in the bakery . . ."

Katniss nods and gets to her feet; he follows a moment after. "Thanks for listening," she says. "I feel better. It helped to talk about it." Her voice is low and quiet. "I've only told a few people about all that."

"Any time," he says.

He walks her out to her car, and as she's standing in the open door, he speaks again. "You know," he says, and hesitates, then continues. "My parents mostly only come by on weeknights, after they've closed the bakery; weekends are usually too busy for them to visit. And Effie and Haymitch usually come on weekdays too. I have friends visit, but it's pretty sporadic. So if you ever just want to drop in unannounced, my weekends are pretty wide open."

Katniss looks at his kind, handsome face, glowing in the warm light of golden hour, and finds herself nodding. "That's good to know."

. . . . . .

And that's how Katniss becomes a regular visitor at the cabin. Things are still a little weird and tense at home with her mom after their confrontation, and on days she can't escape to her office, she escapes to Peeta instead.

She starts spending every Saturday with him, and sometimes it's just for a few hours but sometimes she's arriving before lunch and not leaving until after dinner. He cooks for her—his training might be in pastries, but he's still a pretty amazing chef—and she sits in the kitchen and listens as he explains what he's doing (though it hasn't had a positive effect on her own cooking just yet). They play board games, they watch movies, or if the weather's good and neither one of them is too tired, they sit outside and he tries to perfect the art of baking over a campfire.

Is it weird to hang out with a guy who's dying of his love for you? Maybe, but the thought of ending their new friendship makes her sad, so she keeps visiting. Peeta is her only friend in town—well, in the mountains above town, but close enough—and she needs a friend right now. And so does he.

She tells Prim about it, knowing that her sister will be absurdly happy to know that someone's keeping Peeta company. But she doesn't tell anyone else; Haymitch and Effie know from their own visits to Peeta, and she's not really talking to her mom these days, and for reasons she doesn't examine too closely, she straight-up lies about it when Gale asks at lunch what she's been up to lately.

It's the most content she's felt in ages.

Only two things mar her happiness. The first is that Peeta is definitely getting worse; he's still all right most of the time, but she's seeing him often enough to notice that he's losing weight, slowly but surely, and the dark circles under his eyes are contrasting more and more with his pale face. He has the occasional coughing fit, one of which is bad enough that she thinks of calling an ambulance. When it's over, she sees that he's coughed up an entire tiny rosebud, and her heart hurts at the sight.

The other is that seeing Peeta living on his own, having his own space, being able to do what he wants and when he wants, is making her resent her own living situation more and more.

"I want to get my own place," she confesses to him a month after her fight with her mom. "I want my own space. I've spent half my life taking care of my mom, and I'm sick of it."

"But . . ." he prompts.

"But if I leave, she'll probably starve to death," she says. "Since she won't leave the house."

Peeta's face is kind and concerned. "Have you gotten her professional help?"

"Haymitch paid for therapy, five years ago. And it really helped for a while, but then she decided that she was tired of it and she won't go back. That's when she started to spiral downward again. And she's not interested in exercise or meditation or any of that other stuff they always recommend. I gave up on asking her about all that a while ago." Her brow furrows. "I think that's what really makes me mad: it seems like she won't even try. Like she doesn't care."

Peeta is quiet for a long time. "That's a hard situation," he says. "Mental health can be a really vicious cycle: you need help with your issues, but those issues might keep you from reaching out for that help. It might not be that she won't try or doesn't care; it might just be that she genuinely can't."

In her more charitable moments, Katniss knows that's true, so she nods.

"But on the other hand, you deserve better than that, Katniss. You don't have to be a martyr for your mom's well-being, especially since you already didn't get to be a teenager because of it. It's not wrong for you to want to live your own life—you know, set some boundaries for the sake of your own mental well-being. You're allowed to want that."

No one's ever told her that—not that explicitly, anyway—and it's amazing how much of a difference it makes to hear it from Peeta Mellark, the nicest person she knows. She has the strangest urge to do something stupid, like cry.

Luckily Peeta doesn't notice. "Could you get your own place nearby and drop by a few times a week?" he suggests. "You know, drop off groceries, bring in the mail, spend some time together, but then go back to your own place? I think you both might be happier if you spend less time together but you're both in a better mood when you do, instead of always being in the same space and frustrated with each other."

Katniss blinks at him. "Honestly, I never thought about that," she admits. "And now I'm not sure why. That's a really good idea."

Peeta smiles. "And maybe you could talk to her again about the therapy idea, but gently. Pick a time when you're both calm and in a good mood. Maybe see if you can figure out why she doesn't want to go anymore."

That's also a good idea, so she promises she'll think about it.

. . . . . .

The next morning, Katniss wakes up to a text from Peeta: a link to a state government program that helps people from low-income families get subsidized mental health care. She'd had no idea the program existed, and takes a moment to wonder how different her life might have been if she'd learned about this a long time ago.

Touched by his thoughtfulness, she decides she can't let it go to waste, and after researching the program for a while, she goes to find her mother. To her immense surprise, her mom responds well when Katniss follows Peeta's recommendation—bringing it up gently at a time when they're both in a good mood. Perhaps she, like Katniss, is sick of them walking on eggshells around each other, and this is a peace offering.

She admits that she liked Dr. Heavensbee and the sessions; after some more gentle nudging from Katniss, she admits that her insistence that she didn't need any more therapy was partially motivated by her feeling sick of relying on Haymitch's charity.

Bless Peeta. "Actually," Katniss says, "I just heard about this program. If we can get you approved, it would be much cheaper—cheap enough that I could pay for the remainder."

And to her relief, her mother agrees to go if they get approved. Katniss spends the day applying for the program, and then on Monday she reaches out to Dr. Heavensbee's office to see how soon they could get Mrs. Everdeen in. It turns out that Dr. Heavensbee is a very charitable sort of guy; his office not only gets a teletherapy appointment set up for just two weeks later, but they agree to let Mrs. Everdeen start now at a discounted cost until she's approved for the government program.

Katniss watches the pieces fall into place with a hope in her heart that she's not accustomed to feeling. Which only makes it more disappointing when her mother suddenly turns stubborn and refuses to go to her appointment. It's a Tuesday morning, and Katniss has taken the morning off work to make sure this first appointment goes smoothly. But when she goes to tell her mom it's time to log on for her ten o'clock appointment, she finds the woman has gone back to bed and refuses to get out.

"Mom," Katniss says, trying to keep her voice gentle, "if you don't get up, you won't be ready for your visit with Dr. Heavensbee."

"I'm not doing it," her mother says flatly, refusing to even turn over in bed to look at Katniss.

Deep breath in, deep breath out. "It seemed like you'd really been looking forward to this. Didn't you say you really liked him?"

"You don't need to talk to me like I'm a child, Katniss," her mother says in a biting tone.

Okay, Katniss will have to try another tactic. "We went to a lot of effort to get you this appointment. If you miss it, you might not be able to get another one for a long time."

"So? Why do I need to go to this appointment? I've told you, I'm fine."

Katniss can feel her pulse accelerating and tries hard to keep her tone level. "Wouldn't it be nice to try to feel up to doing more? Getting back into your old hobbies? Maybe you could even get more comfortable going outside. Don't you remember how much you used to like going on hikes? Wouldn't that be fun to do again?"

And now her mother does sit up, her eyes stormy. "I told you not to talk to me like I'm a child," she says. "You've always acted like you're so much smarter than me, but don't forget, I'm your mother, Katniss."

It's 9:59, and Katniss can feel all her hopes for the appointment with Dr. Heavensbee slipping away, and it makes her voice sharp. "Are you?" she demands. "Because you sure haven't acted like it for the last ten years! What kind of mother sits at home and watches TV while her thirteen-year-old daughter has to get a job to put food on the table? I've been taking care of you for half my life, and I'm sick of it! You think I want to be here? You think I dreamed of spending my entire life as your caretaker?"

"I never asked you to come here," her mother says sharply. "All you do is boss me around and act like you're better than me. You are welcome to leave."

"Fine!" Katniss all but yells, and storms to her room. She calls Dr. Heavensbee's office to tell them not to expect her mother, and then she packs. She doesn't have much stuff, so it's the work of a few minutes to throw everything she owns in a suitcase and a duffel bag; then she throws it in her car and drives away. Her mother doesn't come out of her room in all that time.

As with the last time she fought with her mother, she drives to the cabin without even thinking about it. She stops seeing red about halfway there, but even when she's come to her senses, she keeps driving. After all, where else can she go? Effie and Haymitch would be sympathetic, but they'd try to barge in there and fix things with money, and Haymitch's money was the problem the first time around. And Gale is the exact wrong sort of person to go to when you want comfort and a listening ear.

Peeta opens the door with a pleased expression that quickly vanishes when he sees Katniss's face. "Katniss?" he says uncertainly, and at the sound of his voice—a voice that she hadn't realized, until this moment, has become closely tied to her peace of mind—she starts, to her immense humiliation and dismay, to cry.

Peeta looks absolutely shocked, but he quickly ushers her into the house and seats her on one of the sofas; when he tries to move to a nearby armchair, she grabs his arm and makes him sit next to her. He does so and tentatively puts his arm around her shoulders, and she leans into him and cries and cries.

It's gentle at first, just tears rolling down her cheeks, but it's so comforting to let herself go—she has not cried in front of another human being since her father's funeral—that it gets worse and worse until her shoulders are shaking. She cries for the youth she didn't get to have, for the years stretching out in front of her with no hope of things getting better. She cries for the relationship she doesn't have with her mother. She cries for her father, for whom she hasn't allowed herself to grieve since shortly after his funeral, being too busy just trying to survive. She cries for Prim, who barely remembers what it was like to have parents who came to her school programs and baked her a cake on her birthday. And she cries for Peeta, because he's dying and she can't stop it, and he doesn't deserve it and she's going to lose one of her only friends.

She'd forgotten how crying can tire you out; before long, she's exhausted and her head aches. But Peeta's shoulder is soft and inviting, and she curls into it, her eyelids suddenly heavy.

In the moment before she drifts off to sleep, she murmurs, "I'm so sorry I'm not in love with you." She doesn't hear if he answers, and she doesn't remember it when she awakes.

. . . . . .

When Katniss wakes, she is curled up on the couch with a blanket spread over her; the clock on the wall tells her it's 3 in the afternoon.

The thing that woke her up is a notification from her phone, telling her that someone is trying to video chat with her; groggily she turns it on and is met with Effie's annoyingly cheerful face.

That face quickly falls into a sympathetic expression. "How are you feeling, dear girl?"

"Like I got hit by a train," Katniss groans, rubbing her hands over her face. She hesitates, then she sighs. "You know how I told you about that appointment with Dr. Heavensbee—"

"I know, dear. Your mother told us."

Katniss blinks in surprise. "My mother?" Her mom has never been particularly friendly with either of the Abernathys. "How . . . ?"

"Peeta called us earlier," Effie explains. "Apparently you showed up at his doorstep and cried yourself to sleep on his sofa. Given your usual dislike of emotional displays, he was understandably worried, so he reached out. Given the timing, we had a good guess of what had happened, so Haymitch went to your house and talked to your mother."

Katniss winces. "And?"

"She's sorry, though she thinks you won't believe her. And she's willing to try again."

"Oh," said Katniss, her mind a whirlwind of emotion. She's happy at the thought of her mother being willing to try again, but that happiness vanishes as she says, "Then I guess I should go back home."

"I think not," says Effie. "Unless you're very keen to. Your mother told us you've been rather unhappy living at her home." She pauses, and her expression softens. "I should have realized that. I'm sorry, Katniss dear."

The warmth in Effie's eyes is going to make Katniss want to cry again, so she pushes on quickly. "I should have said something sooner. It was stressing me out a lot more than I let on. A lot more than I realized, honestly."

"Well, either way, Haymitch and I decided to do something about it. We've booked a service that will send someone by twice a week to check on your mother, drop off groceries, do some light cleaning, things like that, so that you can take a break for a while. And when you're ready, we'll take you apartment hunting. And I've already set up a new appointment for your mother with Dr. Heavensbee."

The astonishing generosity that Effie is proposing to show her renders her temporarily speechless. When she finds her voice, she says, "What do you mean by 'take a break'?"

"Just what I said. I went to tell your boss that you would not be in this afternoon; you know Sae is such a good friend of mine. She's known your family long enough that when I said it was a family emergency, she guessed what kind. We got to talking, and she mentioned that she'd be fine with you working remotely for a few months, if you'd like. I thought that could be the perfect solution to you feeling burned out, so I told her I'd tell you it's an option. You could go somewhere nice, or you're welcome to one of our guest bedrooms for a little staycation. Or I'm certain Peeta would allow you to use one of the guest bedrooms at the cabin."

The full magnitude of what Effie is offering sinks in, and Katniss's voice is shaky and low as she says, "This is too much, Effie."

Fortunately, Effie understands what she means and doesn't seem insulted. "You deserve it, dear girl. Besides, who else is Haymitch going to spend all his money on? You know you and Prim are like daughters to us."

She really is going to cry again if Effie carries on like this.

When the call ends, she goes out and sits on the porch to enjoy the breeze. She's been out there for maybe fifteen minutes when Peeta appears.

"Come sit," she says, and he makes his way over to her while she watches and tries to hide her frown. He's declined a fair bit just in the past week or two; he's good at hiding it, but she can see soreness and fatigue in the way he moves. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," he says cheerfully, and she knows it's a lie. "Did Effie talk to you?"

"Yeah, she and Haymitch arranged everything. They're hiring someone to check on my mom twice a week, and my boss offered to let me work remotely for a while so I can get away and recuperate a little. Then when I'm ready to go back to my normal life, I'll get my own apartment."

The smile that crosses his face is weary but genuine. "Katniss, that's amazing! That's just what you wanted."

It's what she wanted, but she can hardly focus on it, so distracted is she by how tired he suddenly seems.

"So what do you mean by 'get away'?"

"Effie was thinking I could go somewhere nice, away from everything, and just relax and work remotely for a while."

"Anywhere in mind?"

He's smiling gently, and in that moment, everything comes together: her concerns about his health, and how she thinks it'd be good to have someone around who can call an ambulance if he takes a sudden turn for the worst, and how beautiful it is up here, and the fact that when she was in distress, she came to him without even thinking about it. "Yeah," she says bluntly, trying to hide her nervousness. "How would you feel about having a roommate for a while?"

But then she immediately regrets the question. "I know that's weird," she says, looking down at her hands in her lap. "With . . . things being as they are. Me being around would probably just be a hard reminder all the time about . . . I'm sorry I brought it up."

But Peeta's shaking his head. "It doesn't have to be weird." He takes a breath. "I'd like it if you stayed here."

She can't let him get his hopes up. "But Peeta, I don't want you to think . . . I'm sorry, but I'm not going to . . ."

"I know," he says, quiet and resigned. "I've made my peace with that. But still, it'd be nice to have you around. I know I came up here for some peace and quiet, but . . . I'd like having company if it's you."

She hesitates.

He gives her a sweet little smile. "Please?"

It's surprisingly hard to resist that smile.

. . . . . .

So Katniss stays at the cabin. She's got all her stuff packed up in her car, so it's easy to take it to one of the guest bedrooms.

(She chooses the one that was always hers when she came to visit, the one furnished in soft greens and browns, with one whole wall covered in a beautiful mural of a foggy forest. She's always loved this room, which is what she tells Peeta; what she doesn't tell him is that she's glad it's next to his room, so that if he's woken in the night with coughing, she'll know.)

He makes her an elaborate meal that night—impressive, really, given that he didn't have any special ingredients in the house, as he didn't know he was about to have a houseguest—and then they watch a movie, as Katniss doesn't have the emotional bandwidth to chat all night. She goes up to bed first, and when she gets out of the bathroom, he's waiting there to use it after her.

He gives her a sweet smile. "Good night." And you know what, he's right: it is.

It takes a few days for them to find a rhythm. She takes her laptop to the desk in the living room on the first day, but it's hard to pay attention to her spreadsheets when Peeta's always coming in and out. He keeps chatting with her and totally distracting her from what she's doing, and every time she gets distracted, she remembers that she'd much rather be out hiking in the mountains or enjoying the fresh air. But Sae is letting her work remotely, not giving her time off, so she still needs to put in eight hours a day.

So for the next few days, she works upstairs in the master bedroom—which neither of them is sleeping in—as it has a home office area. And for a few days, it works: Peeta cooks her three meals a day (she tells him he doesn't have to, but he insists that he enjoys it), and they eat together, and in the evenings they hang out.

But part of the point of all of this was for her to keep an eye on Peeta's health, and she can't do it if she's hidden away upstairs all the time.

So on the next Monday, she sets out some ground rules at breakfast. "I want to work downstairs," she says, "at least some of the time. But if I do that, you can't distract me. We can say hi or have a quick chat, but I need to get my work done."

And Peeta is so clearly pleased that she wants to stay downstairs that she's immediately glad she thought of it. Somewhere along the way, it became important to her to make Peeta Mellark happy.

He's good about sticking to the new rules, and they quickly settle into a new pattern: she works downstairs, and he reads or bustles around in the kitchen. He'll say a quick hello or point out a deer in the yard, but he only engages her in conversation when she stands up to take a break. He's clearly happier having her in the living room, and come to think of it, so is she.

Of course, they aren't the only people whose schedules need to be taken into consideration: Peeta's parents visit about twice a week. The first two times it happens, Katniss leaves; she needs to run errands in town anyway, and this way they can hide from his parents that she's staying there.

But this isn't sustainable, as Peeta gently tells her in her second week there.

"If it keeps your mom from yelling at me, I'll make it work," she says drily.

He laughs but shakes his head. "You don't have to join us when they visit," he says, "but they're going to find out eventually, and she'll be less mad if I tell her myself."

Reluctantly she agrees, and the next time the Mellarks visit, he tells them about his houseguest. Katniss has elected to go on a lengthy drive that night, so she has no idea what Peeta says to them, but when she returns, they're gone and he informs her that his mother has promised to be nice to her.

Privately, Katniss thinks that she's not sure what Mrs. Mellark's promise is worth, but she nods.

So the next time they visit, she sticks around for dinner. It's insanely awkward, with Mrs. Mellark staring tightly at the wall behind Katniss's head the whole meal and Katniss just retreating into herself. Peeta and Mr. Mellark try their best to keep the conversation going, but still, Katniss is deeply relieved when the visit is over.

She comes up with reasons to be away from home during their future visits, but at least Peeta feels better that he's not hiding his new housemate from his parents.

. . . . . .

"You're staying with Peeta now?"

It's impossible not to hear the pleasure and joy in Prim's voice, and Katniss feels herself wincing a little. "Don't read too much into that, Prim. I needed a place to stay and he needed someone to keep an eye on his health."

"Yeah," says Prim with a laugh, "but did you have to live with him to do that?"

Katniss winces and glances back at the cabin, making sure she's far enough away from it that there's no chance Peeta will overhear. "I know what you're thinking, Prim, and you really shouldn't. There's nothing romantic here. And anyway, he's so sick right now. I don't know if he's really got romance on his mind." That's probably a lie; it's romance that's killing Peeta, so it's probably on his mind all the time. But Prim, like most everyone else who knows Peeta, isn't aware of the nature of his disease.

"Really?" comes the skeptical answer.

And how can she explain it to Prim? How can she tell her tender-hearted little sister that their childhoods wiped out her interest in romance, that she's never recovered from seeing how thoroughly their father's death destroyed their mother? How can she say that having to raise Prim put her off having a family of her own, because she's terrified of letting her own children down the way their mother let them down?

So she just says, "I mean it, Prim. Don't get your hopes up about this. You're just going to be disappointed."

She's not sure whether Prim believes her.

. . . . . .

It's weird, really, how well Katniss and Peeta work as housemates. On paper, it shouldn't work at all: he's outgoing where she's withdrawn; he's cheerful where she's somber; and then of course he's dying because she doesn't love him.

But in practice, it works really well. They spend mealtimes, evenings, and weekends together, as well as Katniss's breaks from work. He teaches her how to cook and draw—another hobby of his—and she teaches him the woodcraft and archery she learned from her father before his death. They play boardgames, watch movies, go on drives through the forest, and sometimes just enjoy doing their own things in the same room.

And they talk about everything; Katniss had no idea she could have so much to say to anyone, let alone to Peeta Mellark, but she never grows tired of talking to him. Prim was right: Katniss should have been friends with him when they were in high school.

Of course, in some ways it's still a little awkward, as Katniss is still plagued with guilt when she reflects that she has the ability, but not the necessary sentiment, to save his life. But he insists that he's made his peace with that and that he's not expecting anything from her, and she's trying to take him at his word. And when she's able to keep that guilt at bay, she's surprisingly happy.

After all, living with Peeta, she gets this beautiful house, her own space, and the mountains around them; she gets sunsets and rainstorms and the sight of foxes gamboling through the trees. She gets three delicious home-cooked meals a day and the constant companionship of someone who has wormed his way past her defenses to become her closest friend.

And Peeta gets . . . well, she doesn't know what he gets out of their connection, to be honest. She still can't figure out why he's in love with her in the first place; she's not even sure why he'd want to be her friend. She's serious, reserved, taciturn; in many of their conversations, it requires work on his part to draw her out, even with their newfound friendship (although she can see herself thawing, little by little, every day she lives with him).

She's not good company; she's not useful around the house; she's just . . . there. But somehow, that's enough for Peeta.

And maybe someday she'll work up the courage to tell him how much it means to her that there's at least one person in this world, besides Prim, that she's always enough for.

. . . . . .

One morning in mid-July, Peeta has a coughing fit so bad that Katniss forces him into her car and drives him down to the hospital. Dr. Aurelius is the pulmonologist that Peeta has been seeing, and when Katniss storms up to the receptionist's desk with her face like a thunderstorm and with Peeta trailing weakly behind her like a half-inflated balloon, still struggling to catch his breath, the woman immediately interrupts the doctor's break to have him come take a look.

Dr. Aurelius is a kindly old man with a fringe of graying hair and round spectacles. He listens to Peeta's lungs, runs some blood tests, and asks some questions, but can only come up with "It's progressing about as fast as we'd expected."

"That's all you have to say?" Katniss demands.

To his credit, the doctor does not ask why Katniss is there or what right she has to question him. And if he knows that she's the cause of Peeta's Hanahaki disease, he doesn't say anything. "I can up his pain meds," Dr. Aurelius says. "That's really all I can offer."

Katniss opens his mouth to retort, but Peeta silences her with a gentle hand on her forearm. "How much longer can I stay up in the forest on my own?" he asks.

The doctor's expression is sympathetic. "I expect you have several months left," he says softly, "and maybe a month or two before things get . . . difficult."

His words echo in Katniss's head as they drive back up to the cabin, and she's so focused on them that she doesn't notice that her grip on the steering wheel is white-knuckled and that she's glaring at the road in front of her like she's hoping to set it on fire with the force of her gaze.

"Katniss?" Peeta says softly, and she glances over at him. He's staring determinedly out the passenger's side window. "Let's not talk about it. Okay? Let's just . . . keep doing what we're doing."

Katniss finally notices her death grip on the steering wheel and forces her hands to relax, at the same time releasing a long, slow breath. "Okay," she says. "We won't talk about it."

But she can't help thinking about it, especially when they get back to the cabin and Peeta immediately goes up to take a nap; he usually doesn't need naps in the middle of the day. It seems like an ominous sign, and Katniss suddenly needs space and fresh air. She already told Sae she was taking the rest of the workday off due to an emergency, so she laces up her walking shoes and heads out into the forest.

It takes her a while to calm down, and by the time she's done so, she has admitted something to herself: Peeta matters to her now. When she found out about his disease and her unintentional part in it, she was furious; she didn't want to be saddled with worry and guilt over some boy she barely knew. She didn't want to care. Well, now she knows Peeta—knows him better than she knows almost anyone—and she does care, and she is worried, and she does feel guilt.

Somewhere along the way, whether it was baking pão de queijo together or crying herself to sleep in his arms or that ridiculous night when they played Guess Who? fourteen times in a row because it bugged her that he kept winning, he started to matter to her.

There's a small part of her that's not thrilled about that; she just got out of a situation where she had to be her mother's caretaker, and sometimes she feels like she immediately found herself in a similar situation with Peeta and his illness. Worse than that, he's going to die soon and it's going to be devastation and loss all over again, like it was with her father. If she were smart, she'd disentangle her life from his—get some space so it doesn't hurt so much when he dies.

But apparently she's not smart, or maybe it's too late. Either way, she's not sure she knows anymore how not to worry about him. Peeta's well-being—Peeta himself—matters in a way that, until this year, only Prim mattered. Maybe it's because he and Prim have the same kind spirits and gentle souls; maybe it's because both of them seem a little too soft and gentle to look after themselves in a harsh, unforgiving world. Whatever the reason, she feels the same compulsion to keep him safe that she does with her sister.

She couldn't abandon Prim if she were dying. And she can't abandon Peeta when he's dying, not even to spare herself the pain. It's an uninviting prospect, but Katniss is grimly determined to see this through to the end, whenever that may be.

She looks at the mercilessly sunny sky and wonders what it is about Peeta that makes it so impossible for her to only look out for herself.

. . . . . .

"I went by your house," Gale says, and Katniss freezes, her gaze fixed unseeingly on her lunch.

"Oh?" she says nonchalantly, as though she can avoid the conversation that is inevitably coming.

"Yeah, I was in town visiting my family so I stopped by. Haymitch was there."

Katniss can't help the way her face softens at the words. Haymitch and Effie have really stepped up in the month she's been up at the cabin: in addition to hiring the home aide they talked about, they've been making sure Katniss's mom does her teletherapy sessions with Dr. Heavensbee. When they came up to visit Katniss and Peeta last Friday, they reported that the sessions seemed to be going well so far.

"He said you were out of town for a while. But when I texted you about lunch, you had no problem meeting. So are you out of town or not?"

Gale has a way of turning a conversation into an interrogation, and Katniss chafes under his challenging stare. "It's more of a staycation. I'm working remotely from a cabin up in the mountains."

His brow furrows. "Isn't that expensive?" he asks, and unfortunately, he knows her financial situation better than anyone; she can't claim she could easily afford to rent a cabin for a month.

So she tells him the truth, despite knowing how he'll react. "I'm staying at the Abernathys' cabin."

His brow furrows. "Isn't that where Mellark's living right now?"

"Yeah, we're both guests there."

Predictably, he's angry. "What, suddenly you're best friends with Peeta Mellark?" His frown gets darker. "Or is it more than that?"

She scoffs. "I needed a place to get away, and the cabin's more than big enough for two guests."

"Yeah, but why would you want that? You're not even friends with the guy."

"I am now," she says, shrugging one shoulder. "He's cool." That doesn't lessen Gale's scowl, and she can't help adding, "And he doesn't get mad about the fact that I have friends other than him."

Not the best way to cool Gale's ire, but it suddenly occurs to her how irritating it is that she's expected to be the one to cool Gale's ire.

"So you're hanging out with a guy who's dying?" Gale's tone is disparaging. "That's got to be a lot of fun."

Something in Katniss's chest twists to hear Gale talk about Peeta's condition so bluntly. "Well, he's not dead yet," she says tightly.

"So what, are you like his caretaker or something?"

"Not really," she says, but she probably should have chosen a more firm "no" because he doesn't seem to believe her.

"Nice," he says sarcastically. "I was in the hospital last year after that car accident, and you didn't even call to see how I was doing. Mellark's sick and now you're babysitting him."

"Me and you have never been like that," she objects, "and anyway you were only in the hospital overnight." What she's thinking, though, is that they've finally come to the heart of the matter: Gale is jealous of the attention she's showing Peeta. She'd thought he got over his interest in her when she went away to college; he hasn't shown any sign of it in the seven months since she's been back. But either he's been hiding it well, or this has caused some vestige of his old feelings to bubble up to the surface.

With that new perspective, Katniss reflects that she's lucky that the true nature of Peeta's disease is known only to his family, the Abernathys, and her. If Gale knew Peeta had Hanahaki disease and that Katniss was the object of his unrequited love, she can't even imagine what his reaction would be.

Suddenly she's had it with this conversation. "The Abernathys are like family to me, so they offered me a place to stay. I didn't mind that I'd be sharing the place with Peeta, because he's become a good friend. And yes, while I'm there, I try to keep an eye on him so I can call the doctor if he takes a turn for the worse. I don't think anything in that warrants you being upset. And it's one o'clock and you need to get back to work."

She leaves the table before Gale can say anything else and strides quickly to her car. She has a sudden urge to be back at the cabin with Peeta, whose gentle warmth suddenly seems very appealing when compared to Gale's fierce fire.

. . . . . .

Considering that they actually live in the same house, it's surprising that it takes such a long time for them to finally talk about . . . it.

It's August when they finally do. She's been living in the cabin for nearly two months now. Sae has been very understanding about all of it, but she has started asking little probing questions, wondering how long Katniss intends to stay away. Katniss doesn't want to make her boss unhappy, but she also can't give her a definite response right now. She's going to stay as long as Peeta does, and that's all the answer she can give.

She does suspect, though, that Peeta won't stay in the cabin very much longer. He's getting worse by the day, though he tries to keep her from seeing just how bad it's gotten. So, figuring it won't be much longer, she sidesteps Sae's questions and stays at the cabin.

This particular day is a cloudy Saturday, and just after lunch, rain starts to tap against the window. Before long, a low fog has risen and engulfed the forest, turning the familiar stretch of trees outside into something vast and mysterious.

Katniss and Peeta are both watching, transfixed, and soon find themselves seated on the floor in front of the open back door, staring out at the misty world beyond the cabin. There's something cozy about it: the two of them in their own little dry cocoon, while the rain falls just beyond their reach.

It feels intimate, and maybe that's why Katniss doesn't need any prodding from Peeta this time to speak freely. They talk about their childhoods; they tell each other stories about their time in school, when they walked the same halls but never connected with each other.

"Of course," says Katniss matter-of-factly, finishing a story, "I didn't really have any friends back then, other than Gale and Madge."

Peeta laughs, as she had intended him to, and then he ducks his head shyly.

"What?"

He looks up at her with an embarrassed little grin. "You know, when we were in school, I always wanted to be your friend."

It's what Prim said to her all that time ago, and now, as then, she doesn't understand it. "Why?" she demands. "Why would you even notice me? I didn't talk to anyone; I didn't do anything; I just went to school, went to work, and went home."

Peeta examines her a long time, as though deciding what to say. And then he says, "Do you remember the first day of kindergarten?"

She furrows her brow. "Kind of?"

"We had that music assembly. The teacher asked who knew the valley song, and your hand shot up in the air, so they had you get up and sing. You were wearing a red plaid dress, and you had the most beautiful voice I'd ever heard, and I just wanted to get to know you." He gives her a rueful smile. "It only took eighteen years."

Katniss stares at him. She only vaguely remembers that day, and she only vaguely remembers singing. But she does know that she wore that red plaid dress on her first day of school. "My dad loved to sing," she says. "He taught me all the folk songs he knew." Her lips quirk in a sad half-smile. "I honestly haven't really sung since he died."

"Well," says Peeta, "I hope you'll sing again. Someday."

They sit in silence a while longer, until she finds herself overwhelmed by the urge to speak. There's something that she should have said to him a long time ago, and this looks like the perfect opening. Uncomfortable and unsure where to start, she hesitates, frozen in indecision, before deciding to just blurt it out. "Haymitch told me," she says. "That you're the one who got me on the free lunch program."

He stares, clearly surprised, then ducks his head shyly again. "Yeah."

She stares at the top of his bowed head, at this kind-hearted boy who made sure she didn't starve and is now embarrassed to be acknowledged for it. "Thank you," she says lowly. "I needed it. A lot. And I should have thanked you as soon as I knew."

"It was nothing," he tries to say, but she's not having it.

"You seriously might have saved my life," she says. "I was way too good at pretending like I was fine—I was convinced that if anyone knew how bad things were at home, we'd end up in foster care and I'd be separated from Prim, so I always made sure no one guessed what was going on. I had all the adults fooled, and I don't know how bad things could have gotten before one of them noticed. But you . . . you noticed."

He fidgets uncomfortably, but he nods. "You're welcome."

And they fall into silence once again, watching the rain fall outside.

She's glad she finally thanked him, but still, she hates that she's now been reminded how much she owes him. She hates that he saved her life and she can't return the favor. She hates the thought of him going to his grave with her still owing him so much . . . plus she just hates the thought of him going to his grave.

Talking about it can only make it worse, right? And yet she can't help herself. There is some part of her that selfishly thinks that she will rest easier if she has at least tried to explain to him that it's not him—there's not any failing or lack on his part that keeps her from loving him. It's all her.

"My mom was okay when we were kids," she blurts out, and he turns his head to look at her, clearly surprised but willingly listening. She can't stand that clear, steady gaze, so she looks away, out at the rain. "She had some issues, she had her moments, but things were okay. But then when my dad died . . . I don't know if it's that he was all that was holding her together, or if that was just a blow that pushed her past what she could deal with, and she never managed to find her way back again."

Peeta is listening quietly.

"Either way, it destroyed her, losing him. And it was me and Prim who dealt with the fallout, since she couldn't be a mom for us. Being with him made her vulnerable to everything bad that came after. And that's always terrified me. The thing that scares me most in the whole world is something bad happening to Prim. But the second-scariest thing to me is being in a situation like my mom: loving someone so much that it can destroy your life. I don't—I'm not sure I even know how to—I can't," she finishes helplessly.

She would be amazed if anyone could make sense of her rambling explanation, but somehow, when she works up the courage to look at Peeta, he's looking back with understanding and warmth in his eyes. "I get it," he says. "I do, Katniss."

Katniss twists her fingers tightly in the sleeves of her sweater and looks resolutely out the door at the rain.

. . . . . .

Things get worse and worse as August marches on. Of course, she still loves being up at the cabin; she still loves spending so much time with Peeta; she's still has moments where she's centered and at peace in a way that she's not sure she's ever been in her life.

But Peeta's getting worse, to the point that neither of them can brush it off the way that they used to. He only cooks one meal a day now; that's all the energy he's got in him. He spends the rest of the time reading quietly in the living room. Katniss isn't getting much work done these days, because any time he's in the same room as her, she's busy staring at him, wondering how he's doing, wondering if it's worse than he lets on.

He doesn't have much of an appetite anymore, and he's lost so much weight that his clothes all hang loosely on him. The dark circles under his eyes are a vivid stamp of misery on his parchment-pale face. Even on nights when he doesn't wake himself with a coughing fit, she knows he isn't sleeping well.

She can't help remembering how he held her when she cried herself to sleep after that fight with her mom. So although offering physical contact and comfort to other people isn't something that really comes instinctively to her, she starts touching him: at first just cuddling up to his side when they sit by each other, then putting her arm around his shoulders, and then, on days when he's really tired, letting him rest his head in her lap and running her fingers through his hair.

She worries it looks like encouragement, but he already knows where they're at, right? And it seems to bring him comfort, so she keeps doing it.

They are rapidly reaching that point, she knows, the one where he can't stay at the cabin any longer, the one where he should return to the warm embrace of his family for his final months. But every time she tries to hint about going back to town, he doesn't want to hear it.

But on the last day of August, he has an attack worse than any she's seen so far. He's on his knees on the kitchen floor, coughing these great, deep, terrible, wracking coughs that make her own chest hurt in sympathy. She's got one hand resting gently on his upper back, the other hand holding her cell phone, ready to call an ambulance should the coughing go on too long.

When it's finally over, a rose in full bloom—mangled, wet, bloody, but undeniably in full bloom—lays on the kitchen floor, and Peeta's curled up on the hardwood with his head in Katniss's lap, crying. Katniss runs her fingers through his hair and cries too, wishing she wasn't so messed up, wishing she knew how to get past this paralyzing fear and fall in love with Peeta.

If it were literally any other task that would save his life, she would do it: climb a mountain, swim an ocean, give up every penny she has to her name. She'd marry him, right now, and spend the rest of their lives doing what they've been doing these last two months, if a marriage without love was enough to cure this terrible disease. But it's not. She knows that. So all she can do is cry and regret.

When his tears stop, she decides it's time to bring it up again. "I think," she says softly, "it's time to move home."

Peeta's still for a long moment, then he nods slowly.

"Should we tell your family on Saturday?"

Another hesitation. Another nod.

. . . . . .

Saturday is a celebration—as much as it can be, given how little they all feel like celebrating right now. Peeta's brother Bran is on leave from the military, and his other brother Rye flew into town so they could be there at the same time. Katniss hears Peeta talk to his brothers on the phone about it, and they're acting like it's just a casual family reunion when she knows that actually this may be the last time the whole family is together.

Peeta had the idea to have the whole family up for dinner at the cabin on the day the brothers get back into town. Haymitch, Effie, and Katniss are invited too. Katniss thinks like it sounds like the most miserable evening she can imagine—eating with people who know she's the reason their brother is dying—but Peeta wants her there, so she's going to go.

Or so she thinks until late Saturday afternoon. Peeta's family hasn't arrived yet; the parents are currently picking up the brothers at the airport, planning to bring them straight to the cabin. Katniss is glad of the reprieve; she's only been brave enough to face his parents three times since she's been staying at the cabin. Mr. Mellark has been surprisingly kind to her, but he has this sort of lost, dazed look on his face all the time and Katniss can't bear it. And of course Mrs. Mellark is always pretty furious with her.

Katniss can't say she blames the woman.

So at present it's just Katniss, Peeta, and the Abernathys, who've come up to help with the cooking. Effie is determinedly cheerful, and even more so each time her eyes fall on the exhausted and emaciated young man they've come to celebrate. Haymitch looks as serious as Katniss has ever seen him. They can see what Katniss sees: that Peeta is fading.

And suddenly she can't bear it. Peeta and Haymitch are outside looking at something, and Katniss, thinking of the evening to come, is suddenly overwhelmed by a great, dark wave of panic and guilt.

She turns to Effie with her eyes wide. "I can't do this," she says frantically. "I can't be here. I can't face his family, knowing this is my fault."

"This isn't your fault," comes a tired voice from the kitchen door, and she spins to see Peeta leaning against the door frame for support.

"Peeta," she chokes out.

He shakes his head. "None of this is your fault," he says, "and it isn't mine either. People fall in love every day and it doesn't kill them. This is just bad medical luck, same as if I'd gotten cancer. The fact that it's connected to you doesn't mean that it's caused by you."

Katniss bows her head, getting herself under control, and when she lifts it again, Haymitch and Effie have disappeared.

Peeta makes his slow, laborious way over to her. "I don't think there's anything to forgive," he says. "But if it makes you feel better to hear me say it: I forgive you. I don't hold this against you. And I don't want you to hold it against yourself. I don't want to go away knowing that you're going to feel guilty about this for the rest of your life."

She opens her mouth to object, but he speaks first. "Give me the peace, in my last few months, of knowing that you're not going to blame yourself for this."

She stares for a long time, but it is what he says he wants. And she can try to give him that. "I'll try."

He smiles. "So will you stay for dinner? I'd like you there."

It still doesn't sound like a fun evening, but she can't tell him no. "I'll stay."

It's as terrible as she expects. Haymitch, Effie, and Mr. Mellark are kind, but Rye and Bran are clearly baffled as to why she's there—it's apparent that they know she's the object of Peeta's disease—and Mrs. Mellark has venom in her eyes the whole evening.

But Katniss stays, because Peeta asked her to, and it matters to her that he's happy.

During dessert—a cake the Mellarks brought from the bakery—Peeta tells everyone he's going home. "It'll be nice to be there with Rye and Bran around . . . and I think it'd be good for me to be closer to the hospital."

Everyone immediately understands the significance of his decision—what it says about the progression of his condition—and it's a somber group that finishes their cake in near silence.

When dessert is done, Katniss and the Abernathys do the dishes so that the Mellark family can go out on the covered porch and talk. They're out there for nearly an hour, and Katniss has no idea what they're saying to each other.

But when the evening is over and the Mellarks are going out to their car, Rye and Bran pull her aside. "Thanks for looking after our brother," Rye says, and it makes Katniss want to cry again, because for them to have set aside their ill opinion of her so quickly—Peeta must have taken the time to defend her to his family. Even now, he's doing everything he can to take care of her.

She could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve him.

. . . . . .

Katniss and Peeta have decided to move back to the city on Tuesday. Peeta's had a car up at the cabin this whole time, but he's too weak to drive it now, so the Mellarks take it home on Saturday and they plan for Katniss to drive Peeta home when they move out.

That means that Monday is their last night at the cabin, and Katniss decides she wants to do something nice for Peeta. It isn't hard to decide what that nice thing should be: he's mentioned more than once that it's amazing how many stars you can see up in the mountains, and that he'd like to do some stargazing, but they've never done much.

So Katniss makes some arrangements, and after dinner, she leads Peeta out into the twilit forest (going slowly, as he gets out of breath so easily) and to a nearby hill, grassy and soft and free of trees, where they have a clear view of the sky. At the top of the hill is a softly glowing lantern, a blanket, comfy chairs, a box full of snacks, and a book (found in the cabin's small collection) about constellations in the night sky.

Peeta is moved by the thoughtful surprise, and they sit happily together on the hill and watch the twilight deepen into night. It's one of his better days; he's got energy and he's barely coughed at all today, although lately, even on his better days, his breathing always sounds labored.

When the stars are out, they pull out the book and start using it to find constellations, but they give up on it pretty quickly as they're not sure they're looking in the right part of the sky. So instead they lay back on the blanket, side by side, looking up at the mosaic of stars sparkling across the heavens.

"That was a shooting star," Peeta exclaims, but it's gone by the time Katniss glances over.

She doesn't care. She closes her eyes and wishes anyway: she wishes he didn't have this disease. She wishes she loved him.

But Peeta sounds happy and calm, and in time her worry and guilt drain away, and she starts to just genuinely enjoy the evening. This place is stunningly beautiful, and she's never cared much for stargazing but she can see why he wanted to do it. The universe is vast and unfathomable, and maybe that should make her feel small and insignificant, but instead, all she can think of is how cozy it is: her and Peeta on this blanket, side by side, an island of warmth and light in an ocean of night. She has the fanciful thought that if that whole universe came crashing down right then, Peeta would still be by her side.

He really does have a way of making her feel safe and whole, but not in a way where she'd feel broken without him. It's like . . . it's like Peeta makes her more herself, like he encourages her to be the best version of herself. He believes in her. He sees something worthwhile in her. And his patient, persistent kindness has etched that message into her very bones: she is worthwhile, she deserves happiness, she has something to offer. Even when he's gone, she knows she'll still be a better person than she was, because she knew him and he loved her.

She's happy right now, which is crazy, with how terrible everything is. But she's genuinely happy, in a way she hasn't been in a very long time—like her soul could float up right out of her chest and be carried away on the gentle evening breeze. Part of it is being here with Peeta, and part of it is knowing that Peeta is equally happy right now. For some inexplicable reason, her being there makes Peeta happy, and that's enough right now—no, that's everything right now. Somewhere along the way, his happiness came to matter to her as much as her own.

In fact, the two are linked: she's happy when she's making him happy. What's good for her soul is being good for his soul. That thought would alarm her if not for the fact that she knows he feels the same way. He wants to do what's best for her, and she wants to do what's best for him, which means that since they're looking out for each other, they both get what they need to be happy and fulfilled. That, she decides, is a rare and beautiful thing. She's never had a connection with someone quite like this, and she's glad she's experiencing it now, even if it's just for a little while.

Beside her, the sound of Peeta's labored breathing suddenly stops.

Panic and dread immediately fill her heart. Dr. Aurelius thought—Peeta should have weeks, maybe months—it's too soon, it's far too soon—

Pulse pounding, she turns her head to the side, horribly certain of what she's about to see.

So she is baffled and shocked when instead, she sees Peeta lifting a hand and pressing it to his chest, his gaze still fixed up on the stars. In the soft glow of the lantern behind them, she sees that hand move up and down with the rise and fall of his chest.

"Katniss," he says slowly, still not looking at her.

"Peeta?" she whispers.

"Katniss," he repeats, slow and careful and unsure. "I can breathe."

Her heart starts to pound. "Like . . . you mean like normal?"

He nods, then carefully sits up, his gaze fixed on the hand he has on his chest. Katniss quickly sits up as well and turns to face him, one hand hovering anxiously near his shoulder, as she is suddenly terrified to touch him. "I mean, my chest hurts, like I've been coughing too much. But the mass in my chest, what kept me from breathing . . . it's gone."

He's silent while her mind reels in shock, scrabbling for purchase somewhere amidst the whirlwind of her thoughts. Then he says shyly, "Do you know anything about that?" And finally, he drags his gaze to hers, and in the lantern light, she can read the look there: bashful. Uncertain. But hopeful.

He has the most beautiful eyes.

And she doesn't know anything right now—doesn't understand anything. But one thing finally occurs to her: it looks like she might get to keep him.

The thought tears away a dam that's been sitting in her chest for weeks (or longer), and suddenly she is shaking in relief, uncertain how to respond, uncertain of how to cope with the torrent of feelings rushing through her. Because if Peeta is okay, if Peeta is breathing normally, that must mean . . .

"Katniss?" he asks quietly.

She kisses him, because the flood of emotions roaring through her won't allow her to do anything else in this moment. She really isn't very good at this, and when she lifts her hands to cup his face, she's embarrassed by how much they're shaking.

But she doesn't have much time to think about it, because Peeta starts kissing her back, his lips soft but insistent, his hands warm on her waist. He kisses her like his life depends on it. Which makes sense, all things considered.

She feels . . . something, something that stirs deep inside. Something that makes her want more, growing warmer and spreading through her body, to the tips of her being. She's never felt this way before, about anyone, and suddenly she's not sure she ever wants to stop kissing Peeta Mellark.

So it's Peeta who pulls away in the end, his hands on her arms, his face wet. "Is this happening?" he demands shakily, and the lantern reflects in little rivulets down his cheeks.

And the sight of his tears prompts her own to start to fall. If Katniss were someone else, maybe she could find a way to express what she's feeling right now. But she's not someone else so she throws her arms around him and buries her face in his neck, trembling and weeping and pulling him in closer with every inhale.

He hugs her back, and one of his hands comes up to stroke her hair. " Is this really happening?" he whispers. "This isn't another dream, is it?"

She shakes her head. "This is happening," she whispers back. "You're okay."

But as soon as she's said it, she panics that this is some kind of trick, or a strange symptom of his worsening disease. "We need to get you to the hospital," she says, and releases him.

He's reluctant to end the embrace, she can tell, but he obediently lets her help him to his feet and bends—slowly and stiffly—to pick up their blanket. Katniss takes the food and the lantern but leaves the chairs. Hang the chairs; she doesn't care if something happens to them. Right now she doesn't care about anything but making sure that Peeta's okay.

"Come on," she says, and starts leading the way off the hill.

"Katniss," comes Peeta's voice behind her.

She turns to look.

"You really love me? That's real?"

Her face burns red, but she forces herself to answer honestly, suddenly terrified that denying it could cause him to relapse.

"I think that's real."

. . . . . .

They make much better time going to the cabin than they did going to the hill, now that Peeta can breathe properly. He's still slow, though; the poor guy's still emaciated and weak, and his lungs and trachea are probably still pretty scratched up. When they reach the cabin, she steps inside only long enough to leave their stuff and pick up her keys and their cellphones, and then she's taking him by the hand and dragging him to her car.

Once they're on the road, she pulls out her cell and calls the number Dr. Aurelius gave her for emergencies. They must have caught him at a bad time, though, because it takes ten minutes of trying before he answers.

"Hello?"

"This is Katniss Everdeen. Friend of Peeta Mellark's. You need to get to the hospital now."

She hears Dr. Aurelius heave a heavy sigh. "Things have gotten worse, I take it?"

"No," she says, heart pounding as she says the words. "They've gotten better."

There's a moment of shocked silence, and then the doctor says, "I'll be to the hospital in ten minutes. Meet me at the ER."

Katniss hangs up the phone and looks over at Peeta. He's got his hand on his chest again, watching it rise and fall with his breaths with a slightly bewildered look on his face. "I . . . I didn't expect to be able to breathe again."

Katniss says nothing, just sticks out her hand for him to take. He looks at it, then at her, then smiles, and they drive the rest of the way to the hospital holding hands. Which is probably super dangerous, actually. But she suddenly can't stand the idea of not touching him.

At the hospital, Dr. Aurelius is standing at the door to the ER, waiting for them; when he sees them approach—Peeta moving feebly, but gripping Katniss's hand like it's a lifeline—his expression clears. "Ah," he says, a twinkle in his eyes, "I see."

Inside, he leads them past the people waiting in the lobby and puts Peeta on an examination table, where he listens to his lungs with a stethoscope and asks him a lot of questions.

Then a nurse comes in with a wheelchair, and Katniss has to wait in the ER waiting room while they wheel Peeta away. They're gone for ages—until nearly one in the morning—and Katniss is beside herself with worry by the time they come back; she can't rest easy until she hears, for certain, that everything's okay.

Finally, a nurse summons her to return to the examination room, where Peeta, now dressed in a hospital gown and robe, is seated on the edge of an exam table. The smiles on the faces of both Peeta and the doctor hit her like a tidal wave, and suddenly she's breathing easy for the first time in what feels like ages. "You're okay?" she demands.

Peeta's smile somehow gets bigger and shyer at the same time, and Dr. Aurelius beams. "The mass is entirely gone," he says. "I assume we have you to thank for that, Miss Everdeen?"

Katniss blushes bright red.

"Good," says the doctor cheerily. "Now, I need to keep your young man here at the hospital for a while; I imagine it will be a few days. We're still waiting for some test results to come in, and I'd like to keep an eye on him and make sure he's starting to heal up all right."

The doctor goes on to tell them that Peeta has a lot of recuperating to do: he's quite a bit underweight and has lost muscle mass in these last weeks of forced inactivity, and his lungs and trachea have sustained some damage. "It could be a long road to recovery," he warns.

Peeta hasn't stopped smiling. "I'm alive, Doc. That's good enough for me."

"That's the right attitude," the doctor smiles at him. "Now, let's get you settled into a bed. And as for Miss Everdeen—"

"I'm not leaving," she growls.

He chuckles. "Honestly, I hadn't expected you to."

Forty minutes later, Peeta has been admitted to the hospital and assigned a room with a window overlooking the dark parking lot. Fortunately for Katniss, there's a comfy armchair in the room, and she curls up in it to spend the night. The nurses do not seem at all happy about having an overnight visitor who's not family, but Dr. Aurelius must have a lot of clout here, because he says a few words to the woman who seems to be in charge, and they all relent.

Peeta looks over at her, uncertainty in his eyes. "You know, we haven't . . . talked. About this."

He's right, and he's right that they need to. But it's been a long day, and now it's the middle of the night, and they're both fading fast. "We will," she promises, "in the morning."

Still he looks doubtful, and she stands so she can lean over the bed and kiss him softly. Kissing Peeta is something she could really get used to, she decides. And it looks like she'll get her chance. The thought has her smiling. "Good night."

. . . . . .

Katniss wakes at 8 feeling like she hasn't slept at all, sitting up all night as she was; she could have happily slept another couple hours, but a nurse has come in and is bustling about checking on Peeta. Katniss would prefer to go back to sleep, but then Peeta turns his head and smiles at her—sweet, hopeful, still a little disbelieving—and suddenly she decides she'd rather stay awake.

They don't get a chance to talk, though; immediately after, Dr. Aurelius returns with two other doctors, all of whom have a host of questions and tests for Peeta. They crowd the small room, and Dr. Aurelius turns to her with a kind smile and tells her that this would be a good time for her to go stretch her legs and maybe go down to the cafeteria for breakfast.

"Also," he says, "someone will need to inform his family, if they don't know yet."

"Oh," says Katniss blankly, feeling like an idiot. It hadn't even occurred to her yet that his family should be told; this thing that is happening feels so personal, like it's just between her and Peeta, that she forgot that his family is still waiting at home, assuming their son is about to die. "Yeah, I'll do that."

"They'll probably want to rush over," Dr. Aurelius says. "Can you tell them we'll be running tests and examinations until about noon, so they shouldn't come by until then?"

Her phone is almost dead, but a kind-faced older gentleman at the nurse's station—his nametag says he's called Jean-Marc—allows her to plug in with a charger that's there. That means she's tethered to the nurse's station while she makes the call.

So first she texts Sae, apologizing profusely and explaining that she once again has to miss work for an emergency. She's hoping the nurse's station will have cleared out by the time she's finished that text, but it hasn't. So she'll have to do this with an audience.

She calls Effie. She does have Peeta's parents phone numbers—he gave them to her in case of an emergency—but she doesn't think she can face that conversation with them, especially since she thinks Mr. Mellark will probably cry and Mrs. Mellark will probably still find a way to be angry with her about all this. Effie will do a much better job at breaking the news to them.

"Katniss, dear, is something wrong?"

It doesn't surprise her that Effie would answer the phone that way; she saw how weak Peeta was on Saturday and has probably been expecting bad news. "Hi, Effie. Umm, I'm at the hospital—"

"Is it Peeta?" Effie breaks in, her voice sounding shaky, like she's close to tears, and it occurs to Katniss that she should have lead with something positive.

"Effie," she says, "it's good news."

There's a moment of silence on the line. "Good news?"

"Yeah, Peeta, he's . . . okay." She shifts uncomfortably as she says it, and reflects that it's ridiculous that she's embarrassed for someone she considers family to find out she's fallen in love.

"Define 'okay,'" Effie demands.

And now she is blushing bright red, but her happiness for Peeta is stronger than her embarrassment. "The Hanahaki disease is gone. The doctor says he'll make a full recovery."

She expects Effie to scream or something, but instead there is silence again. "The Hanahaki disease is gone," she repeats, and it occurs to Katniss that she's probably trying to make sure she understands what's being said before she lets herself get her hopes up.

So she'll have to be explicit, which is so embarrassing, especially with the nurse who lent her the charging cord overhearing this whole conversation. But Jean-Marc is smiling quiet support at her; maybe he knows who she is, who Peeta is, and is happy that their patient is going to get better. So she takes a deep breath. "It's gone," she repeats. "In, umm, the usual way that Hanahaki gets cured."

When Effie speaks, Katniss can hear the smile in her voice. "Katniss," she says, "did you fall in love with Peeta?"

Katniss is blushing again. "Yeah," is all she can say.

And now here's the squealing she was expecting from Effie. "Oh, my dear girl!" she exclaims. "I'm so happy. I'm so happy for you both."

She carries on this way for a while, and when she's finally fallen silent, Katniss asks, "Can I ask you for a favor? Will you tell his family? His mom . . ."

"Understood," says Effie. "I will be happy to tell his family."

"But tell them he'll be unavailable for visits until noon," she requests.

Effie agrees, and with a few more "My dear girl"s and "I'm so happy"s, the call ends.

Jean-Marc is still grinning at her. She ducks her head, but she's smiling too. "Can you tell me where the cafeteria is?"

. . . . . .

When she returns to Peeta's room after a quick breakfast, the head nurse and Dr. Aurelius are helping Peeta into a wheelchair. "Off for more tests!" Dr. Aurelius explains when he sees Katniss. He gets a good look at her, and a frown creases his forehead. "You look exhausted, dear. That armchair can't have been comfortable. Why don't you have a little nap in the bed here? Peeta won't be needing it for a few hours."

The head nurse looks annoyed—letting non-patients nap in hospital beds is probably against some rule—but she doesn't argue. So Katniss nods, then her gaze falls on Peeta. He's looking up at her from the wheelchair with that same hopeful, disbelieving look from earlier, and a wave of warmth washes over her.

So this is what it feels like to be in love.

Some impulse moves her, and she bends over to press a kiss to his cheek. "I'll see you soon," she says.

His grin is like sunlight as they wheel him out.

She does feel a little weird lying on a hospital bed, but that only lasts for about thirty seconds and then she is fast asleep. She's awoken a few hours later when Jean-Marc, the nurse who lent her the phone charger, comes in. He apologizes for having woken her, but she's quick to assure him it's fine when she sees what he's brought her: a hygiene kit with a toothbrush, toothpaste, a comb, and a miniature stick of deodorant, plus one of those giant hospital-branded plastic tumblers with a lid and a handle and a straw and measurements all up the side so patients can be sure they're hydrating enough. He also has a second set for Peeta, and she thanks him profusely.

She does feel pretty gross, come to think of it, so she goes in the bathroom to put on deodorant and brush her teeth; brushing her hair with the little plastic comb takes ages, but she finally gets it combed through and wrangled into a braid. Feeling better, she returns and sits on the bed and wonders when they'll be done with Peeta. They really do need to talk.

She doesn't have to wonder long; Dr. Aurelius wheels him in only a few minutes later with a nurse. Katniss jumps to her feet.

"Ah, Miss Everdeen!" he says. "Glad to see you awake. We finished our testing a little early."

Katniss's gaze is fixed on Peeta. "Is he still okay?" she demands. The doctor has told her that he will be, but it's a little hard to believe him when Peeta still looks the same as he did yesterday, before the Hanahaki disease disappeared.

Peeta and Dr. Aurelius both smile at her. "We're still waiting on the results of more tests," Dr. Aurelius says, "but all of us feel confident that he will make a full recovery."

Her shoulders sag in relief, and Peeta's smile softens into something pleased and fond. "So what now?" she asks.

"As I said, we want to keep him here for a few more days," says the good doctor as he and the nurse help Peeta out of the wheelchair and get him situated on the edge of bed. "To make sure he's improving quickly enough that we're comfortable sending him home. We'll also bring in a nutritionist and a physical therapist in the next few days to put together a plan for him to regain a healthy weight and his strength. Once he's released, he'll need to come see me for checkups for a while so we can make sure he's recovering well."

"And today?" Peeta asks; his question is aimed at the doctor, but his gaze hasn't left Katniss's.

"Today, I have other patients to see to," says Dr. Aurelius. He looks at Katniss. "I assume his family will be here soon?"

Katniss nods.

"Then today, Peeta, you will enjoy your visitors, and rest as much as you can. You don't have to stay lying in bed, but if you decide you want to leave the room for a change of scenery, call a nurse to help you into a wheelchair, and don't go far. I'll be back at 4 to check in. Does that sound good?"

Katniss and Peeta nod. Dr. Aurelius leaves, and they're alone for the first time. And that's the moment when Katniss gets shy. "A nurse brought you some stuff," she blurts out, gesturing at the nightstand with the hygiene kit and the tumbler. "So if you want to freshen up . . ."

"I do, actually," Peeta says appreciatively. He picks up the hygiene kit and makes his way to the tiny bathroom; it might just be wishful thinking, but Katniss really feels like he's already moving better than he was yesterday.

When he comes back, his hair is tidy and he looks happier. "So my family is coming?"

Katniss nods. "I called Effie and she was going to call them." She hesitates. "I just—with your mom—"

"I get it," smiles Peeta, then hesitates. "Though I think now, she'll probably like you a lot more."

Katniss blushes and stares determinedly at the floor. Peeta is silent for a long time, and when she finally dares a glance up at him, he looks a little worried. "Do you want to go for a walk?" he asks. "Do we have time before my family gets here?"

Katniss looks at her watch: 11:35. "Effie told them to come around noon. So we have a while." He lifts his eyebrows hopefully, and she smiles a little. "Yeah, let's take a walk. But you heard the doctor; you'll have to get back in your wheelchair."

Jean-Marc answers the call button and is happy to help. He makes sure Peeta's robe is tied firmly so he'll stay warm, then gets him situated in a wheelchair. And he helpfully tells them, "If you go to the end of the hall and go right, then left, there's a little alcove with big windows and a nice view. And it's usually empty."

All the way to the alcove, Katniss's mind is racing. They need to talk, which is undoubtedly why Peeta wanted to go on this little outing. And she wants to be sure of what she's going to say.

The alcove is, as Jean-Marc predicted, blessedly empty. As soon as they get there, Peeta stands from his wheelchair, and Katniss rushes forward to steady him. He gives her a fond smile. "I can walk," he reminds her. "I'm already feeling better than I was yesterday, and yesterday I managed to hike for stargazing."

Goodness, was that only yesterday? It feels like a lifetime ago. "I know," she says lowly. "It's just . . . I don't know, seeing you in a hospital gown is freaking me out."

"I'm fine," he assures her. He hesitates, then reaches out to clasp her hands in his. "Because of you."

Her gaze falls to their joined hands. She's always loved his hands—has always been fascinated by watching them knead bread or frost a cake or draw a picture—and she loves how it feels to have them wrapped around her hands. But even so, this little romantic gesture feels so foreign (and so momentous, given what has transpired between them) that she doesn't quite know how to enjoy it.

And he notices her discomfort, apparently, because after a moment he withdraws his hands and when she looks up at him, his brows are furrowed. He takes a deep breath. "Can we talk?"

She nods mutely.

For a moment he's silent, as though looking for words, and then he begins, "I never wanted you to know; I never wanted you to feel obligated to do anything about it. And I still feel that way—I don't want you to stick around because you feel obligated."

He thinks she might not want this, she realizes—he's worried (understandably, after what she told him about her hangups with marriage and family, and after how ill at ease she's been today) that she might not want to stay with him but will do so anyway because she's worried about him relapsing. He doesn't realize that there's nowhere on earth she'd rather be right now than here with him, that wild horses couldn't drag her away. And how would he know? She admitted to loving him last night, but that's all they've talked about.

And she's terrible at talking about her feelings, but she can make herself do it for Peeta—so that kind, gentle, loyal, generous, loving Peeta doesn't have to worry. "I don't feel obligated," she says quietly.

Hope touches his expression.

She fights the urge to lessen the intensity of this moment by looking away from him. "You know me," she says. "You know what a mess I am and all the reasons I've never dated anyone. I don't really know what to do here. I don't know how to be someone's girlfriend. And there's a part of me that's still a little freaked out by all of this."

His brow furrows until she steps closer, so close that she can feel his robe brushing against her knees. "But I meant what I said last night, and I'm—" she fidgets a little nervously, and forces herself to press on— "I'm in this for the long haul. If you are."

A smile is tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You're sure?"

She nods, and manages to make herself say it: "I love you," she says, and is proud of herself for how smoothly and steadily it slips from her lips. "And I'm happier when you're in my life—happier than I've been in a long time."

Now he does grin, wide and bright, that smile she loves so much. It's heady and intoxicating to know she put that smile on his face. "I guess you already know I love you," he says.

She gives a quiet laugh at that. "Yeah, I do."

"And even though I was dying, these last few months have been the happiest of my life. Because you were there."

Now she's grinning as widely as he is. How does this boy have the power to make her into such a sentimental fool? But then she thinks, of course he makes her a sentimental fool: it's Peeta, and she loves him.

"So," he says slowly, "are we . . . dating?"

"Dating" sounds a little trite, considering all they've been through together lately. But there isn't another word for it, and also, she imagines Peeta introducing her as "my girlfriend, Katniss" and is surprised at how much she likes it. So she smiles softly at him. "Yeah," she says. "We're dating."

Peeta grins and lifts one hand to cup her cheek, and that's more than enough invitation for Katniss to close the distance between them and lift her face to his. The kiss last night was amazing, but she had so many other emotions ripping through her—hope, relief, disbelief, fear, confusion—that she couldn't focus on it as much as she'd like. So this kiss feels new, like it's the first time. Peeta's mouth moves soft and slow against hers, which is beautiful but she can't help pressing closer and deepening the kiss. She wants to be close to him; she wants to feel his heart beating beneath her palm; she wants to have Peeta's arms around her and his lips on hers for the rest of her life.

Luckily Peeta seems to want the same thing. The thought makes her smile, and now he's smiling, and he wraps his arms tightly around her and buries his face in her neck, and she hugs him back like she's never going to let go. Which is fitting, because right now she has no intention of ever letting go of Peeta.

. . . . . .

They return to room 204 at the same moment that his family arrives, so the reunion happens in the hallway. Rye and Bran exclaim happily and pull Peeta up out of his wheelchair to embrace him, and Mr. Mellark bursts into tears and pulls a slightly uncomfortable Katniss into a tight hug. She doesn't much like being hugged by anyone who isn't Prim or Peeta, but she decides it's a good thing to have your boyfriend's dad like you. Especially if his mom kind of hates you.

But Mrs. Mellark surprises them all; when Katniss is released from Mr. Mellark's hug, she turns to see Peeta's mother looking at her with solemn eyes. "Thank you," she says, and it doesn't sound forced or like she's doing it out of obligation. Katniss doesn't know how to respond to that, so she just nods.

They file into the hospital room, and his family sits on chairs and windowsills while Peeta and Katniss sit on the edge of his bed. Katniss wonders if she should slip from the room so that they can have time alone as a family, but Peeta is holding her hand like it's a lifeline. So she stays.

Luckily, Effie has clearly already explained everything to them, so no one asks any silly questions about how his miraculous cure came about. Instead they talk abut how glad they are, and all the things that they want to do as a family now that Peeta no longer has a ticking clock over his head.

"So when can you leave the hospital?" Bran asks.

"A few days," says Peeta. "They want to keep an eye on me for a while and make sure I'm starting to heal all right."

"And then?" Mr. Mellark asks.

Peeta shrugs. "It's going to be a long road to recovery," he says, then hesitates. "I'm not going to be able to help much at the bakery for a while, but if you don't mind having me . . ." And then he jokes weakly, "Have you turned my bedroom into a storage room yet?"

His father reaches out to grasp Peeta's free hand. Mrs. Mellark, clearly hearing all the words Peeta isn't saying, responds, a little incredulous, "Of course you can stay with us even if you're not working. Why would you even ask that?"

Kaatniss can't help it; her head snaps over to look at Mrs. Mellark, her eyebrows raised. It's probably a bad idea to antagonize her new boyfriend's mother, but she really can't help it; does the woman really not know that she's the reason Peeta would have to wonder whether he still has a place in their house if he's not contributing at the bakery?

To her credit, Mrs. Mellark flushes a little, and she does not snap at Katniss. Instead she says softly to Peeta, "You'll have a place as long as you want it. Especially when you're recovering."

Peeta gives her a grateful smile.

The talk soon turns to Peeta's disease; his brothers obviously held themselves back when they thought the Hanahaki was going to kill him, but now that he's going to survive, they pepper him with questions about how it felt and what it was like to cough up a rose and how did he first know something was wrong?

Peeta is more open about what he went through than he ever was before, and Katniss realizes she'd had no idea how bad it really was for him. More than once she squeezes his hand or moves closer to provide what support and comfort she can with the warmth and proximity of her body. Rye and Bran notice, it's clear from their amused faces; she gets the sense that they would have made fun of Peeta at any other time, but are resisting because he was so recently at death's door.

After a half-hour, Effie and Haymitch arrive as well. Effie bursts into tears the moment she walks in the door; when Peeta stands to greet her, she gathers him into a tight embrace. Katniss stands to greet them as well, and to her surprise, Haymitch slips an arm around her shoulders and presses a kiss to her temple.

"I'm happy for you," he says softly when she looks up at him in surprise. "He's a good kid. And you'll be good for each other."

And since Haymitch is the nearest thing she's had to a father in a decade, that approval sinks all the way down to her bones.

The Abernathys visit for a half-hour, and in the course of the visit, Bran asks, "So what will you do now, Katniss?"

Honestly, she hasn't thought about that much. The vague plan was always to return to town when Peeta did, and at some point get an apartment, but as Peeta got worse and worse, Katniss thought less and less about her own future. "I'm supposed to be back in the office tomorrow," she offers. "So I hope other people will be able to be here during the daytime visiting hours."

Rye and Bran quickly affirm that they will.

"And then I should start apartment hunting," Katniss says.

"We'll help you," Effie assures her. "I've been looking for the last few days and I've found some excellent candidates."

"Near the bakery?" Peeta asks a bit too quickly for it to sound casual.

Rye and Bran and Haymitch's smiles turn teasing, and Effie and Mr. Mellark smile at Peeta like they would at an adorable puppy. "Yes, I focused in that area," Effie confirms. "It's close to Katniss's work, after all."

Katniss looks over at Peeta, who gives her a besotted little grin. She can't help responding to that with a smile of her own.

It comes out that all of Katniss and Peeta's stuff is still at the cabin; they packed most of it in preparation to leave, but they didn't bring it with them in their mad dash to the hospital. Since there's still some packing to do, and since Peeta can't leave the hospital, it's decided that Katniss will go up to the cabin with Haymitch and Effie to clear all of her and Peeta's stuff out. Peeta's family will stay at the hospital and keep him company.

Peeta immediately looks bereft at the thought of having her leave, and after struggling fiercely with her embarrassment over public displays of affection, she kisses him before she leaves to assure him everything is okay.

Katniss and the Abernathys take separate cars to the cabin, so they're not alone together until they're there. But as soon as they're in the living room, Effie demands a full, detailed recounting of what happened. "How did you end up falling in love with him? I knew you could, if you gave him a chance. Was it this beautiful, romantic setting? When did you know? How did you know?"

Katniss tells Effie as much as she can bear to tell, which is about half of it; the rest she just vaguely summarizes. Effie listens like it is the most fascinating story she has ever heard, and even Haymitch drops the pretense of not listening after a few minutes and joins them on the sofas.

When Katniss says, "He said the mass was gone, and that's when I realized what I was feeling was . . ." Effie actually squeals.

Haymitch snorts. "Well, if you were wondering whether or not Effie approves . . ."

"So I'm excited," Effie huffs. "There's nothing wrong with that. Dear Peeta gets a second chance at life, and dear Katniss finally finds happiness in romance. And she truly could not do better for herself than Peeta."

"I can't tell if that's a compliment to Peeta or an insult to Katniss," Haymitch says wryly.

"Compliment to Peeta, of course," Effie says.

Katniss feels a gentle smile cross her face at the familiar bickering, and she hears herself add, "Because nobody's better than Peeta."

Effie clasps her hands to her heart. Haymitch rolls his eyes.

. . . . .

When she returns to the hospital, Peeta is dozing and only Bran remains. "My parents and Rye all had work to get done, and Peeta was so tired that he said they should go while he napped," he explains softly when Katniss enters. "But they'll be back after dinner."

"If you have anything you need to do, I can stay," Katniss offers.

Bran hesitates. "I do have some friends who want to see me while I'm in town," he says. "But I feel bad at the whole family leaving."

"You'll be back after dinner," Katniss reminds him. "Anyway, there's no countdown on the time you have left with Peeta anymore."

Bran brightens at the reminder, and he agrees and stands to go leave. At the door, he turns back and looks at Katniss. "Thanks," he says, and then adds, "for saving my little brother's life."

"You should thank Peeta," Katniss says, turning to look at his sleeping face. "He made it really easy to fall in love with him."

When she looks back at Bran, he's smiling softly at her. "You're going to be really good for Peeta," he says. "I can tell."

He's only been gone for about twenty minutes when Peeta awakes. He's thrilled to see her back but still a little lethargic—nearly dying will do that to you—so Katniss finds a movie they both like on the TV and they watch it together on his bed, hands entwined.

The Mellarks return after Peeta has finished his dinner tray; they've brought Katniss a meat pie and some cookies from the bakery, which reminds her that she hasn't eaten since breakfast. It seems the Mellark family has already adopted Katniss into the fold.

For ninety minutes they chat while Katniss hovers a little awkwardly in the background, and then visiting hours are over. Peeta is surprised and unhappy that Katniss isn't spending the night, but when she tells him how uncomfortable sleeping in the armchair is, he quickly changes his tune and insists she goes home.

"Besides," he says gently, "It's been a long time since you saw your mom."

She nods. She's been thinking all day about the fact that she'll be sleeping back in her childhood home tonight, and there's a part of her that's hopeful after the Abernathys' reports on her mom's current state, and there's a part of her that fears that it will turn out that nothing has really changed.

So before she goes home, she sits in her car and fortifies herself for the coming conversation by video calling Prim. "Hey, little duck," she says when her sister's face appears on the screen. "I have good news: Peeta's going to be okay."

Prim's eyes widen. "How? Why? Are you sure?"

Katniss nods. "He turned a corner," is all she says, because she shares a lot with Prim, but it's Peeta's disease, Peeta's health, and she hasn't asked him if he's comfortable with other people knowing he had Hanahaki. "He's in the hospital now, and the doctor wants him there a couple more days, but then he's going home. They think he's going to be fine."

Prim's lip quivers, and suddenly there are tears rolling down her cheeks. Katniss's heart melts, and she wishes she was there to hug her little sister. "Oh, Katniss, I'm so glad," Prim whispers.

Katniss is about to make her even more glad. "There's something else," she says, and takes a breath. It's easier to say this to her beloved little sister than it was to Effie. "Me and Peeta are dating."

Prim's response is immediate: a shrieked "What" and then a rapid fire barrage of questions and expressions of delight that has Katniss laughing long before Prim pauses for breath. She was right: this call was the perfect way to cheer her up before she speaks to her mother.

Prim wants the full story, and for her—only for her—Katniss is willing to be open. So she tells her as much as she can without mentioning the Hanahaki disease, and Prim listens with starry eyes and a dreamy smile. "That's so romantic!" she exclaims. "I knew you staying in the cabin with him was a good idea. And now Peeta's going to live and you can date the nicest man in the whole world." Her grin widens. "I always wanted Peeta for a brother."

"Whoa," says Katniss, "this all only happened twenty-four hours ago. We're not even close to talking about marriage yet."

Prim waves a dismissive hand. "He'll convince you eventually."

And knowing the way her insides get kind of gooey when Peeta turns those soulful eyes on her, Katniss thinks that's entirely possible. For the first time in a long time, the thought doesn't completely terrify her.

The sisters talk for a long time, and the cheer and warmth of that conversation fortifies Katniss against the conversation that must come next. But to her surprise, when she walks in the house, her mother looks genuinely pleased to see her.

"Katniss," she says, rising from her chair, but then she doesn't seem to know what to do and she ends up just standing awkwardly in the center of the room. "Effie said you'd be staying here a few nights."

Katniss nods. "Did she say why?"

Her mother shakes her head. "Only that you had some news for me?" Her expression falls. "Did something happen to that poor Mellark boy? I've been so worried."

It's not helpful, but Katniss can't help the skepticism in her tone. "You were worried about Peeta? You don't even know him."

"But I've heard Prim talk about him; I know how good he always was to her. And I know he matters enough to you for you to move up to the cabin to look after him."

Katniss feels herself smile; her mother is obviously trying to show interest in her daughters' lives, which is big. "No, actually, the big news is that the doctors think he's going to be okay. He can go home soon."

Her mother smiles softly. "I'm so glad."

"And . . . we're dating."

At that, her mother's smile grows. "I'm even more glad at that." Then her expression falls. "I mean—that's not to say that dating is more important than his illness. It's just . . ." She hesitates, then takes a step toward her daughter. "I know you haven't much of a chance to your enjoy your youth, and I know that's my doing. I'm just . . . I'm glad I didn't ruin your life completely. I'm glad you're finding happiness now."

"Thank you," says Katniss quietly. "How are your sessions with Dr. Heavensbee going?"

"Good," says her mother eagerly. "I feel like . . . things are slowly getting better. And they're going to keep getting better." And then her brow furrows. "Katniss, about the last time you were here . . . I'm so sorry. About the fight, about the appointment, about . . . everything. You deserved a better mother than you got."

Katniss can't refute that, and she isn't ready to fall into her mother's arms and weep that all is forgiven. But she very much appreciates the effort that is being made, so she tells her mother as much. "And I feel like things are going to get better too."

Her mother nods. "Effie said you're looking for an apartment nearby."

Katniss confirms that's true, and a wistful look crosses her mother's face. "It's strange being here alone," she admits. "But I'm getting used to it. And I'm glad you'll be getting your own space. You deserve that."

"But I'll be here often to visit," Katniss says, and is surprised to find she's looking forward to the idea. Maybe this is going to work out after all.

. . . . . .

The next day, Katniss works in the morning, visits Peeta on her lunch break, works in the afternoon, visits Peeta again at dinner, and then checks out apartments with Effie in the evening. The day after she does the same. The morning after that, she goes with Rye to bring Peeta home from the hospital while the rest of his family and the Abernathys prepare a little welcoming party for him at the Mellark home, which is just a block from the bakery.

("How do you get so much time off work?" Rye asks in the car.

Katniss just smiles. "Turns out Sae likes Peeta as much as everyone else does.")

The whole group spends a happy day together; even Mrs. Mellark is pleasant the whole time. Katniss doesn't trust it to last forever—she still remembers well Peeta saying that his mother's version of love is "demanding"—but she's happy to enjoy the peace while it lasts. And Mr. Mellark thoroughly embarrasses Peeta by showing their guests photo albums of him as a baby.

"You were so adorable!" Effie gushes at the pictures.

"You were," Katniss confirms to him quietly when they have a moment alone. "And you are." Saying sappy things still feels strange and uncomfortable to her, but it's getting easier, and anyway it makes Peeta so happy that it's worth it.

She has the pleasure of telling him that she found a new apartment and that it's walking distance to her job, his house, and the bakery, and an easy drive to her mom's house. Rye and Bran overhear and insist on helping her move in the following day; she doesn't have a lot of stuff, but Haymitch and Effie are giving her a dining set and sofa they were going to get rid of, and her mom has told her she should take the bed and dresser from her childhood bedroom, rather than buying new ones. Peeta insists on coming too, but all he can manage is sitting on the sofa and offering moral support while his brothers and Katniss do all the moving.

The move doesn't take too long, and by mid-afternoon, the older Mellarks have left, leaving Katniss and Peeta alone. He watches her unpack and arrange her things while they talk, and later they order out for dinner and have a long, leisurely meal on Katniss's new balcony. At sunset, Peeta is feeling energetic and restless, so they take a walk through the park across the street from her building.

There's a little grassy hill there, and they sit there and talk idly, their words the comfortable conversation of the well-acquainted. There's still a part of her that feels uncomfortable because she doesn't know how she's expected to act around her boyfriend—especially a boyfriend whose life she literally saved by loving him. But it helps when she stops focusing on expectations or labels and starts focusing on how much she cares for Peeta and how well she knows him. It helps that they had all those months watching movies and eating meals and sitting around campfires together; she knows him better than she knows nearly anyone, and that helps ease the discomfort. And it's nice: there's no small talk; they don't have to get to know each other; she's not trying to impress him. When she forgets about her own awkwardness, she is incandescently happy.

They talk about how Peeta wants to start working in the bakery as soon as possible, but he'll need to sit down the whole time at first. They talk about how Katniss plans to come by the bakery every morning on her way to work. They talk about Prim's schooling and Mrs. Everdeen's therapy and how Peeta wants to come to the new apartment and make Katniss dinner as often as he's able. They plan a future in which they play an inextricable part in each other's lives, and Katniss thinks about Prim's declaration that she'd like Peeta as a brother and reflects that this outcome seems more likely that she ever thought possible.

Soon the stars start to appear. "Not quite as good a view as we had in the mountains," Katniss observes.

Peeta squeezes her hand. "We'll have to go back and visit the cabin," he says. "It'd be interesting to see what it's like being there without worrying I'm about to die."

She shudders, then turns to look at his face, gently lit by a nearby streetlight. "I'm really glad you're okay," she says quietly. "And I'm sorry it took me so long."

He gives her that sweet little smile she loves so much. "I never expected you to change your mind, so I never felt like it was 'taking you so long.' I know why relationships have always been scary for you. Honestly, I wouldn't have held it against you even if you never had changed your mind."

"Which is probably the only reason it worked out," she observes wryly. "I'm stubborn enough that if I thought you were trying to force me to love you . . ."

He gives a little laugh at that and lifts her hand to press it to his lips.

She looks at him, at his handsome face that has already started filling out, at his warm eyes that already look less tired than they did just last week, at this man that she's already come to love more than she thought possible. And she admits, "I don't think I changed my mind, exactly."

He tilts his head curiously.

She hesitates, putting in order thoughts that have been running through her mind for the past few days. Then she says, "'I changed my mind' makes it sound like falling in love with you is something I wouldn't have done normally. But I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I think you're exactly the sort of person I would have wanted for myself if I hadn't been so terrified of being in a relationship. If I'd actually thought about the kind of partner I wanted, I would have come up with . . . basically you. Someone warm. Someone who makes me believe that life can go on, no matter how bad my losses. That it can be good again. Your disease just made me spend time with you. Get to know you. Get over my fear."

She takes a deep breath. "I think that even without your disease, if I'd ever taken the time to get to know you, I eventually would have realized that you're exactly what I need. And I want to believe that we would have happened anyway. Everything that happened just . . . helped me come to that realization a lot sooner."

Peeta's eyes are soft, his smile warm. Then he kisses her under the starry sky, and Katniss revels in knowing—for the first time in a very long time—that everything is going to be okay.

. . . . . .

fin