"Katniss?"

She hears footsteps in the hall. Peeta, returning. He probably wants to check in with her, wish her goodnight, or maybe just see if she fell asleep.

"Katniss?" Peeta's voice is outside the door. She remains silent. She doesn't think she could reply, even if she wanted to. It's hard to explain the all-consuming nothingness that's overtaken her. It's better to stay hidden, maybe even disappear completely.

The hallway's light spills into the room in the shape of the doorway, but she doesn't blink, she's too far gone. Peeta's steps wander down the hall again, but of course, he doesn't find her.

"Katniss? Where are you?" Worry has begun to slip into his voice. "Katniss?"

"Oh no," he whispers to himself.

Doors open, he must be looking for her in every room, and still, she can't move. She watches the door quietly, eyes unblinking, as her tears start slipping down her cheeks.

"Ah, here you are." He's found her. His voice isn't great, it's shaky and concerned. He leaves the door open and tries to assess her face properly with the hallway light. He's pale, visibly concerned.

He sits next to her, knees up, rubbing her shoulder with his own. The closet is small. He reaches for her hand, and she barely feels the contact. Her limbs are heavy. Peeta's touch feels far away, as if he were touching her while her arms were asleep.

He takes the time to peel her fingers out of the fist they're frozen into, slipping his palm against her own so he can hold her hand. He doesn't speak. There isn't anything to say.

"That was scary," he whispers, resting his chin on the top of her head. "But you're just tired, yeah?"

She can feel him gulp against her hair. She blinks, letting loose more tears. Peeta sniffles.

"Let's get you to bed, okay?" He looks down at her. It takes him a moment to figure out how to lift her deadweight without losing his balance on his prosthetic, but he figures it out. "It's been a very long day," he says in an attempt at brightness.

"Haymitch is conked out," he comments as he takes her down the hall. "That stew was something else."

Once in her room he lays her on the bed, offering her a smile despite his open worry. Katniss is rigid, staring blankly in return. Peeta makes sure to tuck her in and set up her pillows the way she likes, careful not to jostle her too much.

When he's finished, he stands uselessly by her bedside, seemingly unsure of what to do with himself. He seems to remember something and turns towards her window, making sure to pull her drapes closed.

"I don't know if you need the window—"

"Window," her hoarse voice interrupts. Peeta jumps but complies, pulling the drapes back so he can open her window just a hair. He puts everything back, returning to her bedside as if looking for orders. She stares blankly in return.

"I'll stay with you for a while." He seems to tell himself. He walks around her bed and sits on the other side. His side, really. "I hope you don't mind."

She doesn't turn to look at him, so she doesn't know what he does. She just knows he's there.

"Goodnight, birdie." He whispers at some point. Her eyes don't fall shut.

"-no, she hasn't said anything. She hasn't moved. I don't know—I'm sorry I know it's early."

Peeta's voice.

"It wasn't like this before. She used to go quiet and just sit, but she'd respond to me. She'd go to the bathroom. She'd eat if I asked her. She's just… there. And she's crying too."

"I don't know what to do." He sounds heartbroken. "No, no. He's useless, Mrs. Everdeen. The best he'll do is yell at her or something."

"I did." He pauses. "Yes. That's right… He says to keep talking to her. But that just-it-it doesn't help. What if she's in pain? It's-Well… no, I don't know."

"I just-I… listen, I know this isn't my place." He sighs. "But I think she needs you."

"You're her mother." He argues. "She lost her sister, her daughter."

"It's not easy!" He stops to listen. "Of course, of course. I understand that, it's just, this is your daughter too."

"Mrs. Everdeen, I'm begging you. I can't watch her die." His voice turns slightly manic. "I've taken care of her for you for a year. She's not okay. She's not better. If you love her at all—"

"Of course, I'm here because I care about her!" He's angry. "Forgive me for being rude, but please, don't ask me stupid questions."

"Fine. But please just talk to her." He insists. "I know you call in the evenings, don't you want to speak with her?"

The bedroom door opens, and she listens to Peeta's uneven gait. Toc, toc, toc, goes his prosthetic. He crouches by her side of the bed and enters her field of vision. He looks exhausted. He smiles at her and cups her cheek with one hand.

"Hey," he whispers. "Someone wants to talk to you, okay?"

Because she can't, he holds the phone up to her ear and watches her anxiously. She blinks, losing more tears when her mother finally speaks.

"Good morning, Katniss. I hear you've given Peeta a scare?"

"Mama," she replies.

"Hi, baby." Her mother whispers. "Did I ever tell you that story of the old woman who lives in a shoe?"

She tries to reply, but her throat is dry, so she produces more of a garbled noise. But that's okay. Her mother tells her the story anyways.

"Once upon a time," she begins. "There was an old woman who lived in a shoe."

Peeta smiles despite his relieved tears.

"I like your sweater," she says.

Peeta looks up in surprise. He's been pensive, scratching Buttercup and keeping their porch swing rocking at a steady pace with one foot. After she'd gotten up from bed and eaten something he seemed to feel a lot better. But she wasn't talking yet, and she knew that made him anxious.

"Oh yeah?" He looks down at the garment himself. "I found it in your closet."

"I like your sweaters for me too," she tries to joke, and he laughs.

"I'm sorry I went away," she says after a moment. "I don't know why it happened."

"It's not your fault," Peeta reassures her, putting his arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"It's okay," she sniffles. "It's just that—I really miss my mom," her voice breaks.

"I know," Peeta kisses the top of her head. "You talk in your sleep."

"Why did she leave?" her voice sounds small, childlike.

"I don't know, sweetheart. I don't know."

"She forgot about me, after my dad…" Katniss squeezes her eyes shut. "Never looked for me again."

Peeta doesn't say anything, just squeezes her close. Buttercup seems to hate whatever is going on and abandons them. Katniss tries her best not to, but she sobs.

"I don't know why I'm talking about her," she says after a while. She shakes her head as if the mere idea of missing her mother is preposterous. "It just doesn't make any sense; we were having a good day."

"It doesn't have to make sense," Peeta says softly.

"I was really happy yesterday." She continues. "We went outside. I sang. And we saw Delly. I ruined it."

"You didn't ruin anything," Peeta contradicts. "Maybe it was just too much for one day."

"I'm so weak."

"Hey, don't say that." Peeta makes eye contact with her. "You're not weak. Being upset doesn't make you weak, it makes you human. Okay? You've been through more than most people in this town combined. You just need time."

"But you're okay." She blinks back her tears. "I can't function, and you're so strong. You live on your own, you work, you help, you—"

"Katniss, I have audio-visual hallucinations on a regular basis." He interrupts. "Yeah, I go outside. But guess what? Sometimes I wonder if the people I'm talking to are even real. I'm screwed up too."

She shakes her head but doesn't have the energy to argue. "I don't know."

"I don't think we have to have it figured out, I don't think anyone does, actually." He turns his gaze back towards the street. "We just have to do our best."

"Hm," she leans her head on his shoulder. "Let me know how that works out."

He doesn't quite laugh, more like chokes on humour. "Okay, I will" he says.

She stares at the receiver for a while, feeling its weight in her hands. She's only ever used it a handful of times, but it still feels rather momentous to use a telephone, or phone, as people say. A lifetime ago she used it to build her very first friendship with an out-of-District person. Cinna. It wasn't that long ago, two years ago really, but it seems so far away from the current moment.

"Meow."

"Oh," she gasps, suddenly removed from her thoughts by Buttercup who slinks between her ankles, seemingly seeking her touch.

"Hey, cat." She crouches. "I thought I sent you hunting?" She lets the phone hang by the cord so she can scratch the cat with both hands, smiling when the feline shuts its eyes in enjoyment.

"Watch out, or I'll think you like me or something," she chuckles but Buttercup doesn't seem to care, he just purrs, permitting her affection.

"Here," she picks her pet up. "Sit with me. I'll need all the help I can get."

She takes the phone in her other hand and takes Buttercup with her to the nearby kitchen island, taking a seat on one of the barstools there. The phone's cord is stretched nearly taught, but it should be alright. She doubts the cat loves getting carried around like luggage, but he got himself into this mess all on his own.

"Okay," Katniss whispers, staring at the phone again. "Let's see."

She's memorized the number. She's been thinking about this call for a while, longer than she'd care to admit. She both hopes she picks up and lets it ring forever. It's an odd feeling.

She picks up on the second ring.

"Hello?"

"Mother."

"Katniss," her mothers voice softens. "I didn't think you'd call."

"I didn't think I would either," she looks down at the cat. "Uh, how are you?"

"Okay. And you?"

"Okay too." The line goes silent. "Um, I'm sorry about this morning. I'm going to talk to Peeta about it."

"No, it's alright—" she can hear her mother's hesitation. "I don't mind taking care of you, catkin."

"Please don't call me that." She buries her fingers in Buttercups fur.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine, just—" Katniss bites hard on the inside of her cheek. "Look, I didn't want to bring up Daddy."

"I understand." Her mother pauses for a painfully long time. "I should have been there."

"Mother—"

"I will hate myself for as long as I live, Katniss. I'm so sorry."

"Mother—"

"I was sick, I needed medicine—"

"Mama!"

"But it doesn't matter, I am you mother." She seems to be crying now. "I should have been the one putting food on the table. I should have gone to the mines, to the Hob, to the peacekeepers, anything."

"Mama," she already feels exhausted by this conversation. "Let not—let's just leave the past where it lays."

"I'm sorry," her mother sniffles. "And this morning. Oh, Katniss, I should be there with you."

Katniss stares at the kitchen window for a while. The silence hangs. "Yeah, you should."

"I'm so sorry."

"Why did you leave me with Haymitch?"

Her mother sighs. "He loves you. I knew he'd keep you alive."

Katniss blinks away angry tears. "But that's not enough, mother. It's nothing." She scoffs. "Staying alive was good enough for the Hunger Games, not for now."

Her mother is quiet. "You're right."

"So that's it?" a strange laugh escapes her. "Nothing left to say?"

"No, love, I—" She cuts herself off. "Please, let me be there for you. Whatever you need from me, let me become it."

Katniss sighs, dropping her head. "I didn't want you to be anything new. I just wanted my mom."

They're both quiet for a while.

"And now?" Katniss's face twists up with emotion. "Now, I don't really need you. I don't think I know how."

She can hear her mothers breathing become a rattle.

"I understand," her mother finally says. "I'll earn my way back to you. Even if it takes a long time, I swear it."

"Yeah well, can't really do that from District Four, can you?"

Her mother tries to speak but she's had enough. She hangs up the phone.

"By the odds," she whispers, dropping her head onto the palms of her hands. "Ugh."

She feels the cat moving in her lap, so she peeks at it through her fingers. With a half-hearted smile she says, "for such a terrible cat, you've been oddly loyal. Way more than some people I know."

The cat stares at her, blinking its massive eyes, before it jumps up on the counter and wanders away. Katniss laughs.

"Damn, spoke too soon."

The next day by lunch time Katniss has made up her mind that she is ready to work. She is not going to be wallowing around the house anymore. She's going to take the day as it comes. While Peeta's out fighting with Haymitch over possibly nothing, she marches herself down to her kitchen, throws together an improvised meal from last nights leftovers and packs it up in parchment and cloth. She's doing this.

Peeta finds her on the porch.

"What's going on here?" He asks, staring at her with playful bewilderment.

"Going to work," she replies with conviction, although she's still trying to work up the nerve to actually do it.

"Were you going to be telling me about that?" He tugs on her sweater teasingly. She pushes his hand away.

"Packed you some food," she says bluntly, offering him the second bundle she packed.

"Ah, okay." Peeta considers the bundle in his hands. "You sure about this?"

"Damn sure."

"Okay," he nods. "Let me get—"

"Here," she turns and picks up the thermos she had placed on the step behind her. "Water."

"What about—"

"Jacket." She tosses him his corduroy bomber. "Ready?"

He smiles, "guess so."

When they arrive at the town square she's surprised by the bustle of people. The morning train must have arrived with a decent load of building supplies. From what she can see, some progress was made as the platform is laden with fresh lumber. Surely, for a proper crew, this would be merely a day's work, but for a town of a mere couple hundred with even less able-bodied workers? Who knows.

The first person they encounter is Delly Cartwright. They find her loitering near the edge of the build site, indiscreetly spying on Thom of all people.

"There you are!" She exclaims with some surprise. "I was, uh, waiting for ya'll."

"Uh-huh," Peeta doesn't sound convinced. He opens his mouth, probably to say some joke, when he's called away.

"Mellark! Hustle!" Another man, probably Matthew, shouts from the distance. Peeta shuts his mouth.

"That's me," he shrugs.

"Well, I'll see you later?" Katniss tugs on her sleeve uncomfortably.

"Sure thing." Peeta grins, already jogging backwards. "Oh, and do me a favour? Have a little fun."

"No promises." She smiles back, although with less enthusiasm. "Be careful, okay? Watch out for your leg."

"Yeah, yeah." He winks and jogs away.

"So, what do we do now?" Delly links her arm with hers, tugging her in the other direction rather easily. "Do you know anything about construction?"

"You're kidding, right? I think I know more about fashion."

Delly snorts, causing Katniss to smile a little. "Well, I guess we'll figure it out together."

In the distance, the train whistle screams, alerting them to its arrival long before it reaches the station. Katniss stops, watching the cloud of coal dust approach in a thundering procession. It's an old labor train, not a tribute train. She wonders whatever happened to the tribute trains. Did they destroy them? They would have been a hell of a lot quicker than these old timers, regardless of the bad memories.

"Katniss?" It's Delly. She's already quite a few steps ahead of her. She's looking back in concern. "Are you okay?"

By the odds. She really hopes Peeta hasn't said anything to her. She'd never recover from that type of embarrassment. "I'm fine," she insists, jogging to keep up with her.

"Aha! Fresh-faced people, that's what I like to see!" Thom exclaims with a clap of his hands once he spots them. "Get over here! Hustle! Hustle!"

Delly produces this bizarre little giggle, "Hey Thom."

"Cartwright," Thom nods pleasantly. "Long time no see. Twelve treating you alright?"

"Never better," the other woman grins. Katniss looks between them both awkwardly. They just stand around grinning for an unnecessary moment.

"That's-uh, that's great. Ha." Thom looks away, seemingly remembering Katniss and his clipboard exist a moment too late. "Right, so we need a hand with the cement and bricks. Do ya'll think you can handle that alright?"

Katniss cocks an eyebrow in annoyance, meanwhile Delly nods eagerly.

"Oh, sure I—"

"Where?" Katniss asks.

"Right over… there… um, okay! See ya later, Everdeen!" Thom calls after her.

Katniss walks off towards the pile of bagged cement she can clearly see, thank you very much. Thom is nice and all, but she does not have time for this.

"I'm going to—uh, see you later, Thom." She hears Delly say as she's toeing at a cement bag. Can she actually lift this? Her strength doesn't technically lie in her upper body, but how hard could it be?

"He's nice," Delly says breathlessly once she joins her.

"Yeah, Thom's alright." Katniss shrugs. "Help me with this?"

"Sure," Delly grabs one end of the bag. "Ready?"

"Ready," She nods. They heave the bag up, huffing and puffing included, and… have no idea where to put it.

"Woah, girls!" A woman wearing a handkerchief over her hair comes running towards them. "Watch your backs! Over here! Careful!" She guides them a few feet away towards another pile. "There. Use your knees!"

"Thanks," Katniss says breathlessly.

"No worries," the woman pats her on the back. "Next time, make sure you cradle it with both arms. You don't need two people for the job. Just hold it how you'd carry a baby."

"With fear?"

"Girl," the woman laughs. "Go on, we don't have all day."

About an hour or two later, Katniss is still schlepping material around. She huffs, sweat breaking out across her brow, as she lifts the next bag of cement. The woman from before lifts the one next to her and it on the pile with a groan. Katniss glances up at her, sensing the woman's attention.

"I'm Winnow, by the way." She nods towards her, small black curls escaping her handkerchief near the temples.

"Katniss," she responds with a barely-there smile of acknowledgement.

The other woman laughs a little, "Oh I think everyone knows that."

Katniss looks away, a somewhat larger and embarrassed smile passing by her face. "Right."

They continue working side-by-side in silence. Occasionally, she sees Peeta walk past with the rest of the group he's been working with, lumber balanced against his right shoulder. She tries to be discreet about it, but her eyes follow him every time.

At some point, it must be obvious that she becomes distracted occasionally because Winnow looks up and follows her gaze, just in time to notice what has caught her attention too.

The other woman laughs under her breath. She looks over at Katniss with a soft smile. "You two are sweet."

Katniss blushes in embarrassment and does not provide a response.

Winnow glances towards her and smiles sympathetically. "No need to be embarrassed. I used to be like that too, with my husband."

Katniss ignores the implications of that sentence, "You're married?"

Winnow stands up straight, wiping the white concrete powder off on her legs. "I was. He didn't make it back from the war."

Katniss grimaces. Something squeezes inside her chest. Yet another casualty for her list. "I'm so sorry."

"No, don't be." Winnow shakes her head, "these things happen."

By then, most of the cement had been moved already. Another group was already starting to mix the stuff into a paste. Winnow sighs.

"Break time?" She asks. She doesn't have to tell her twice, Katniss nods eagerly.

Winnow motions for Katniss to follow her, leading her towards an overturned log where another group of workers are already sitting for their break. Winnow plops down on one end of the log with a groan and Katniss happily joins her.

"Where are you from?" Katniss asks, taking in Winnow's darker skin and tighter curls.

"Eleven. I came here something like six months ago?" She responds, rubbing her own back.

Katniss nods, her eyes moving over towards the group of people still at work. "What brings you to Twelve?" she looks back at Winnow, adding belatedly, "if you don't mind my asking."

Winnow shrugs. "I don't know. There wasn't anything special about this place. I think I just had too many memories in Eleven and Twelve had none."

Katniss can attempt to understand that, after all, that is how her mother feels about District Four, she supposes.

They sit in companionable silence for some time. In the distance, she spots some commotion. Matthew, visibly arguing with someone and going so far as to turn his back to them. Katniss frowns.

"What do you think's going on over there?"

Winnow glances up, she'd been a little preoccupied with her bottle of water. She squints. "Oh man."

"What?"

"It's that Capitol construction crew, I think." Winnow pours some of her water on her hands to rinse the cement off them. "Or whatever they are. They sure ain't doing that much construction. More like disruption."

"What the hell are they wearing?" Katniss's frown deepens. "Do you see that?"

"Oh, I hadn't noticed." Winnow laughs. "I've never seen anything like it."

Mingling around the build sit, the Capitol crew can be seen assessing the area, arguing with multiple people, their weird yellow hats bright against the sea of grey.

"I wonder what they're for," Winnow comments without glancing over at her. "To make them stand out in the crowd?"

Katniss hums, "it might be a fashion statement. Capitol trends are hard to follow."

Winnow laughs and Katniss turns to look at her. "I've only ever seen them on TV, but even from there, yikes."

Katniss chuckles, "I know. It was extremely bizarre to see them in person. TV is less intense, somehow."

Katniss takes her makeshift lunch bag off her belt, finally biting into the apple she'd been thinking about for the better part of the last hour. She's never enjoyed the juice of an apple this much before. She's going to have to go gather more of the damn things. Delicious.

"You know, I used to really admire your archery skills." Winnow says, catching her attention.

"Oh… well, thanks I guess." Katniss says awkwardly. This is starting to feel like a Victory Tour conversation.

"I mean, you must have had to break the law to learn in the first place. That was brave." Winnow looks over at her. "Especially to my District Eleven eyes. We never even dared to think about breaking the law in those days."

Katniss' mind fills with memories of District Eleven as she'd seen it during her Victory Tour. The barbed wire, high fences, and concrete walls. Such an alien world for a District Twelve girl.

"I had it so much easier here, in Twelve," Katniss admits. "I didn't know it at the time, but in comparison, we were almost free to do whatever we wanted as long as we were discreet."

"It was still a brave thing to do." Winnow declares, "no one had it easy. Not even here."

She nods, "Thank you."

The companiable silence is nice. She likes the exhaustion in her muscles, it makes her feel useful. It's a good exhaustion. So different from the way being at home makes her feel.

Maybe coming to work wasn't such a bad idea. She's going to have so much to tell Dr. Aurelius about.

"Oh my gosh, there you are!" Katniss looks up, startled, as Delly jogs towards them. "Did you see? There's Capitol folk here already."

"I did. Have they been giving people a hard time?" she asks, making space on the log for Delly.

"Ugh, have they!" She plops down dramatically. Katniss grins.

"Water?" she offers.

"Thank you," Delly groans. "I'm beat. I could probably sleep for a week."

"Tell us what they said," Katniss says, knocking her hand against Delly insistently.

"Okay, okay." Delly sits up, suddenly serious. "So, they came with this giant, um, not maps…"

"Blueprints?" Winnow offers.

"Right," Delly snaps her fingers. "Thanks. I'm Delly, by the way."

"Winnow," the other woman nods, offering her hand to shake. Delly does happily.

"Blueprints?" Katniss asks.

"Yeah, so they come here with these elaborate as heck blueprints." She drops her voice to a whisper. "No consultation, no hello, no how are you. Just, this is what we're going to do. We have the money, blah, blah, you know?"

"What did Matthew say?" Katniss asks.

"Oh, you're going to love this. He said, 'and who the hell are you?' and the guy was like 'I'm the head developer. If I walk you get nothing. No District Twelve."

"No," Winnow whispers with interest.

"Heard it with my own ears." Delly insists. "Matthew hated that. Basically told him to go back to wherever he came from 'cause Twelve wasn't going to roll over for anyone."

"Good," Katniss says.

"Does this mean construction stops?" Winnow frets. "They have the authority, don't they?"

"I don't know," Delly whispers back worriedly. "I hope not. What's going to happen to all these people?"

"They can't do that," Katniss shakes her head, but she's not actually sure. "The war just ended and they're the ones that bombed us. They owe us!"

"Rich people don't care about debt," Winnow says. "They love that crap."

"Well, who needs them anyway? Last I checked we had a whole forest right here. We can get our own wood and build our own houses." Katniss says.

"Is the Mockingjay starting another rebellion?" Delly asks teasingly.

"No," Katniss blushes. "I'm just saying we don't need to get pushed around."

"I'm sure it'll work out." Winnow reassures.

Someone blows a whistle.

"Twelve! We're on strike! Everyone off the job site!"

Well, darn.