I sit with my back pressed tight against the wall. I try to hold myself together by the seams, my nails dig desperately into my skin. I thought I had become something of an expert on fear, or at the very least I thought I was familiar with it. But nothing could have prepared me for this universe shifting moment. This lack of control. I squeeze my eyes shut and dare not breathe more than I must. My heart knocks insistently into my chest. Bum, bum it says. Bum, bum, bum, bum, a reminder of this unending life.

"Katniss!" I hear Haymitch before I see him. The storage rooms door flies open, "Katniss, they're back. Katniss!"

I blink and stare at him uncomprehendingly. He's still shouting, his hands reaching out to grab me, but the shock is intense. I stare at my mentors' familiar face, my eyes round and helpless, a child once again.

The child I am.

"He's alive, Katniss, he's alive." Haymitch says in a slower more purposeful tone. He crouches as best as his useless knees will allow him, his hands reaching out to grasp me by the forearms. "Katniss, we did it. We got them back."

When I take my next breath, it feels like an assault. The speed of my heartbeat, the smallness of the room, the shortness of my breath, it all catches up to me, yet the meaning of Haymitch's words finally enter my mind. Alive. Here.

I keep staring at Haymitch, but I scramble to my feet. I'm hyperventilating. Haymitch shakes me, but my breathing won't slow. There's no time. I push past him and nearly fall on my face, rushing down the hall.

I don't need to ask; I know where to go. He'll be at the hospital. He'll be past this hall, around that corner. My body, my heart, something in me knows. It tells me where to go. Keep going, keep going. If I don't get there quick enough, who knows. I have to get there.

"Annie!" I skid to a stop, taken aback by the absolute emotion in Finnick's voice. There's so much joy, so much love.

"Finnick!" a woman replies, running to him and jumping into his arms. My skin itches, my heart burns. I'm so envious, I have to look away. I used to be held like that, I used to have that much love.

But then my heart stutters. Alive. Here. If I keep running, will the arms that I'm looking for hold me? Will I hear his voice? Will I feel his lips?

"Come on!" Haymitch takes me by the arm and yanks me in the other direction. We're both running now, I'm surprised Haymitch can keep up. He pulls me towards a hospital room, a very busy one. There are doctors everywhere, nurses too. I shove my way past them because I know, I just—, I know it. He's here, in this room.

"Peeta," I gasp, and the longing is so intense. He's awake and sitting up on his hospital bed. Regrettably, I wasn't the first face he saw. But it doesn't matter, nothing matters, not at all. Peeta's eyes meet with mine and suddenly nothing else exists on this entire planet. Nothing else in this world.

"Peeta," I repeat with a sob, my vision blurring. I rush towards him, and he sweeps his doctors aside. He's so thin, and his face is so sharp. But he's still my boy, the boy with the bread.

He grasps me, crushing me into his chest and whatever was left of my composure evaporates. Nothing holds the walls of emotions, of suppression after suppression, any longer. My knees soften, and my hands claw at his back, greedily feeling him, ensuring his solidity.

Peeta's hands are still big and heavy. They feel amazing on my back and my shoulders. I can feel him gasping against my neck, and the tickling of his breath feels like home.

"Is this real?" he whispers with his mouth pressed against my ear. "Are you here?"

"Yes," I reassure him. "I'm here."

"I missed you," there's a weight to his words, a reverence.

"Me too, a lot." I choke and smile around my tears. There won't ever be enough words to tell him. "So much."

"They said you were dead, but I knew." He confesses. "I knew."

I nod. Yes. There's a desperation in me borne from his complete understanding. "I knew too. I always knew."

Peeta pulls away from me then, and I can see his face has broken into an emotional smile. He cups my jaw, and when his lips graze mine, everything is okay again. I can breathe, I'm alive.

I stretch up onto my toes, chasing after him. My arms encircle him. I never want to let go. His tears mix with mine on my cheeks, and we kiss. We kiss and we kiss, and we kiss. My tongue sweeps across his bottom lip and the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth, but we don't stop. His fingers slip into my hair, and his touch lights me up.

His fingers tug too harshly against my hair and I reflexively pull back. He's shut his eyes tight, his body suddenly tensed. My hands fly up to his shoulders, fluttering in search for injury.

"Peeta, are you okay?"

He doesn't answer. To my alarm, he starts hitting the sides of his head with his firsts. "Peeta," I repeat, pulling at his wrists, but he's stronger than me. "Stop!"

"Katniss," Haymitch says, taking me by the shoulder but I can shake him off easily, his heart isn't really in it. "What do they pay ya'll for? To stare? Help the kid!"

A nurse reaches out to Peeta, but he cowers away, like a frightened child. He folds in on himself on the ground, hiding his face behind his knees, and tugs on his own hair. I drop to my knees and crawl towards him, slapping away the nurses' hands when she tries to reach out to him again.

"Peeta?" I ask, placing my hands on his knees. "It's me, Katniss. Where are you? Did you go away?"

"Don't," He flinches away from my touch, leaving my hands hovering midair.

I look helplessly over my shoulder to Haymitch, but he looks just as lost as I am. I look back at Peeta, "I—"

A Doctor kneels beside me. She puts her hand on my shoulder, and I fall silent. "Peeta, I'm Dr. Amaltha, I work here at the hospital in District Thirteen. Your friends and I have been waiting a long time to see you. You're safe. Would it be okay if I touched your knee?"

Peeta stills, a single blue eye peaking through his shaggy hair, "No touching."

"That's okay, we're just a little worried about you, is all." The Doctor offers him a smile. "Are you in any pain?"

"I'm fine," he says curtly but reconsiders. "I can manage."

"I know you can, but if you're in any pain I can patch you up and you'll be all better." She inches ever so slowly closer to him. "Wouldn't it be nice to go home with Katniss?"

"Home?" he asks.

"That's right," she reassures. "Once we check you for injuries, you can go with your friends."

"No more hospital?"

"None."

He slowly raises his head. He eyes the doctor uneasily for a moment before moving his gaze towards me. I try to rearrange my features into something less worried but I'm sure I fail. His eyes return to the doctor, "alright."

She crawls closer to him still and Peeta bumps his head against the wall trying to get away from her. She smiles and he grimaces in return, but he allows her to check his pulse anyway.

"That's a little fast." The doctor comments, "Take a few deep breaths for me?"

Peeta complies. After some more goading from Dr. Amaltha he stands and allows her to check him for broken bones. He lets them take his blood pressure, and shine lights in his eyes with no issues. He puts up a bit of a fuss over the blood work, so they let it go for now, asking instead if he'd let them take an x-ray just to be sure about his bones.

"No machines," Peeta says insistently. "Nothing that beeps."

"Let's compromise." Dr. Amaltha suggests. "We do a rapid scan, just to be sure nothing is terribly wrong. No beeping. We can work our way towards the x-rays and blood tests later in the week, okay?"

"Rapid scan?" Peeta stares at the doctor with deeply distrusting eyes. "What is that?"

"Here, I'll show you." Dr. Amaltha looks over her shoulder and a nurse hands her a small white object. It looks somewhat like a misshapen gun with an overly large barrel. "I point this at your body, and it produces some medical imaging that we can have a look at. I promise, it won't hurt, and you may go home with your family."

Peeta glances at me momentarily and seems to gulp. He nods, extending his arms tentatively. Dr. Amaltha wastes no time and begins quickly shooting down one arm and later his chest. There is no sound.

"What will the scan show you?" Peeta asks after a brief moment of silence.

"Not much," Dr. Amaltha admits. "But it will tell me if you need urgent medical attention. Stretch your legs out for me."

Peeta shifts uneasily but does as he's been told. He watches her, fiddling anxiously with the edge of his hospital gown.

"I, uh—" Peeta says. "I can't move the joint. Of the prosthetic." He clarifies. "I don't know. It just stopped working."

Dr. Amaltha glances up at him and goes to gently probe the aluminum prosthetic. She frowns. "We'll need a specialist for this. Renata?" She glances over her shoulder. "Get on that please? Can we get him seen tomorrow?"

"Of course." A young nurse nods, scribbling madly on a clipboard. "Anything else?"

"Not for now but keep everything on standby." Dr. Amaltha leans back on her heels and slaps her knees. "Alright Peeta. Can you still walk?"

Peeta nods, glances over at me and again, only now he seems embarrassed. "I'll just need a little help."

"Well, in that case I see no reason keeping you here. I trust you'll be fine with Katniss and your mentor?"

"Y-you can stay with me." I rush to add. "Prim wants to see you, and my mother and— I" I cut myself off, feeling my cheeks flame bright red. "I mean, I would like you to stay."

Peeta smiles at me but doesn't say anything else. He merely stretches his hands out towards me, and I rush to help him.

"I'll be alright, doctor." Peeta nods down at Dr. Amaltha, grimacing somewhat when his weight shifts but quickly clearing his expression. "Katniss'll keep an eye on me."

"I will," I rush to confirm. Look at us, the image of responsibility.

"Okay kids, come on." Haymitch breaks up the conversation by dragging a wheelchair into the room. "I'm tired of this place."