I wrote this because I haven't really seen a fanfic about Peeta getting treatment after the Rebellion. Normally most stories start when Peeta gets back to 12 and him and Katniss have to "find their way back to each other."

I, however, wanted to try and get inside Peeta's mind immediately after. We know that Katniss and Haymtich went back to 12 and Peeta joined them later. I want to write a fanfic showing the counter-treatments Peeta received before he went back to 12.

FYI, in other fanfics (Unwritten Moments 1-4, Real, More Than Enough, Lonely, Maybe the Odds Were in Our Favor) I tend to have Effie in the Capitol, but for the sake of this story, I changed it up a little.

We know I don't own Hunger Games, because it would have ended differently.

Enjoy, and please review!

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Katniss had gotten off. They said that she was temporarily insane, not in her right mind, when she'd shot Coin.

I felt relieved. I was supposed to be relieved, right?

Real. That was real.

I had sighed with relief when Haymitch had told me, but ever since then I'd been questioning it. Sometimes I was angry. She wasn't supposed to survive. She needed to be punished. She deserved to be punished. She was a traitor, a mutt.

I should have let her take those pills.

No. Not real. Not real, dammit.

Was this really going to be my life?

They kept me in a room, by myself, but I wasn't tied up or handcuffed. Not anymore. They didn't think I'd hurt Katniss with my hands.

Just my words.

I wish they'd tape my mouth shut. I didn't want to hurt her with my words.

But she was a mutt, wasn't she?

No. Not real. That wasn't real.

This went on all day, every day. I didn't even get relief when I slept. I did sleep, but not well. My dreams were twisted, conflicted, a mixture of Games and the memories—false memories, I had to remind myself—of Katniss.

By the time dawn arrived I had usually already showered and eaten. Sometimes I didn't know if being awake was better or worse. There was never any relief. I tried to remain positive—maybe today would be the day I saw progress within myself. Maybe I wouldn't be as confused today.

But I doubted it.

There was a knock on my door about a week after Katniss had gotten off trial.

"Come in," I said automatically. The first thing I saw was a guard. I was confused as to why, until I noticed the figure behind him.

I sat up. On the surface she looked fine, give or take a few bruises. Her long, dark locks were in their normal braid—

And just like that I remembered something. Me, playing in her hair, atop the Training Center. They didn't take that one from me. Probably because they didn't know it had existed.

I stared into her grey eyes and another memory hit me, full in the gut, a memory I'd had before but forgotten about until now. Her eyes had that same haunted, empty look now as they had then, so many years ago, on that rainy day in town, her sitting against the tree.

I had thrown bread to her. Burned bread for her. Risked abuse for her.

I wouldn't have done that for a mutt.

"Hi," said Katniss softly.

And then another memory hit me. A more recent one. I'd nearly had an attack, and she had kissed me to try and stop it. War had raged within me, and I had felt pleasure from the kiss. But I still wasn't sure about her, about anything.

She'd told me not to let Snow take me from her. She had told me to fight, and to stay with her.

Always, I had told her.

I wanted to stay with her.

I'd had plenty of good dreams about Katniss since then. The problem was in the end everything blurred together. The truth was, no matter what, I was having trouble deciphering between what was real and what wasn't.

Was that memory real?

Was this?

"Hey," I responded, standing. I saw the guard shift, and it dawned on me that he was there to protect her, because they didn't know how I'd react to seeing her. At the guard's movement I turned to him. "I'm not gonna hurt her," I said. The guard stared at me for a moment and then turned to Katniss.

"Go ahead," she told him softly.

"I'll be right outside." She nodded, her eyes following him as he left, leaving the door slightly ajar. Then she turned back to me.

We stared at each other for a few moments, in an uncomfortable silence.

She stepped closer to me, tentatively. "How's your hand?" she asked softly.

"My hand?" I looked down and noticed the bandage, and suddenly I saw Katniss, biting my hand, blood everywhere. I gasped and jerked. She was going to kill me. She was trying to kill me. I had to kill her first. "No. Not real. Not real," I shouted at myself.

I saw the betrayal in her eyes at stopping her from taking the nightlock—why had I done that again?

Because I loved her. Right? Real?

But she was supposed to die. She was a mutt.

I heard Katniss gasp and saw her back away, her eyes wide with fear. "I'm okay," I told her. "Just… just give me a minute." My voice was shaking, but I kept talking. "Not real," I muttered to myself. "Not real." I turned away from her, closing my eyes and breathing deeply. Once I had composed myself I turned back around. She was against the back wall, close to the door, watching me warily. "Why are you here?"

I hadn't meant to sound so cold, but that's how it came out.

"I- I came to say goodbye," she said, walking slowly towards me.

"Goodbye?"

"I'm…" she took a deep breath, closing her eyes, and then stared at me. "I'm going back to District 12 today."

"12? I thought there was no 12?" I stared at her, genuinely puzzled.

"I've been told I have to go back. It's my punishment. Besides, some people want it rebuilt, and Victor's Village was unharmed, so…. I'm going back. I can't stay here, Peeta. Too many bad memories."

I watched her eyes well with tears. She was thinking of Prim, I know she was. Prim, her little sister, the one who'd died in the Capitol bombing, who she would have protected at all costs, but couldn't in the end.

That was real.

"I just wanted to see you before I left," said Katniss, staring at me intently.

"I'm staying?"

"You have to," Katniss told me. "You have to get better. Plutarch and Haymitch are taking me home but Haymitch will be back to help you. I don't know how long it'll take for you to get better, but I'll be waiting for you."

"You will?"

"Of course."

I didn't say anything for a few moments. "They tell me I love you." She nodded. "I guess I should say I don't want you to go, but I think you leaving's a good idea." She looked crushed, and my initial reaction was to feel sad about it. Then it turned into indifferent.

Indifference.

That shouldn't be real.

"I just meant," I started, amending my statement, "that I do need to get better."

She looked as if she didn't fully believe me. "I guess I should go. Haymitch is waiting for me."

"Did you ever want to kill me?" I asked her as she started to leave. I'd asked her this before, but in my dreams, when I asked, she always responded by pulling out a weapon and trying to kill me. How she would respond now would tell me if this was real or not.

She turned and faced me, her eyes unreadable. I felt my heart hammering in my chest. "I know you thought you had to, when I was with the Careers. At least, that's what you've told me. But other than that?"

"Only once," responded Katniss, "in the 74th Games, when Claudius Templesmith had announced there could no longer be two winners. You held out your knife and I thought you were gonna kill me, so I aimed my bow at you." I had no recollection of that. That's not how I remembered it.

"So why didn't you kill me?" I was almost afraid of her answer.

"We'd agreed we'd die together," was her response. "That we didn't want them to have a winner."

Suddenly my mouth was dry. Was this real? Or was this another trick?

"What about in the last Games?"

"I spent the entire time trying to save your life, Peeta. I didn't try to kill you."

For now, in this moment, I believed her.

This was real.

I watched her as she turned and walked towards the door, leaving, going back home. Our home, apparently, though I barely had any recollection of it.

Suddenly a question burst from my mouth before I could stop it. "Is Gale going with you?"

Jealousy. That was real. That emotion was all too real.

She turned around slowly, so slowly, and met my eyes. "Not real," she said, her voice cold. "If there's nothing else you never have to worry about again, it'll be me and Gale." With those words, she left, closing the door behind her.