I had published these before as a oneshot collection, but I've made some changes and am now publishing them as individual oneshots. Enjoy!

Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back.

Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet.

~Plato

I slowly walk back to my room once I left the hospital. I still can't really talk, you know, because of the whole "Peeta attempting to strangle me" thing.

Peeta attempting to strangle me.

How had that even happened? How could the Capitol have messed him up that badly? To believe I was some sort of mutt who wanted to kill him? In my mind, I had always imagined my reunion with Peeta to be like the one we shot before the Victory Tour, where we'd embrace, and Peeta would be glad to see me. The only difference would be that the one I envisioned would actually be real.

How did everything get so turned around though? I guess I always took Peeta loving me for granted, and assumed that, like the Games, it was just a constant in my life, something that would always be there.

Now the Games don't exist anymore and it seems that Peeta's love doesn't either.

What chills me the most is the whole concept of hijacking. They can't create new memories, they just distort old ones. So, every messed-up memory Peeta has of me has some roots in reality. I've never been particularly caring to him, except for the cameras. I kissed Gale. When I heard Peeta was with the Careers, I immediately sought to kill him. I never had any trust in him whatsoever.

Really, all the Capitol's done is stripped Peeta's memories of that love-induced haze, and made him see me for who I really am: Ruthless, unloving and uncaring.

Add a dash of mutt to that, and Peeta's perception of me is complete.

What I really don't understand though, is why this is bothering me so much. No, not bothering. I don't understand why it felt like I was being slowly ripped apart just thinking about him. I don't understand why it felt like, now that Peeta, or at least Peeta's mind, wasn't here, the world was slowly folding in on itself.

I don't understand.

Finally, I reach my room. Prim and my mother were still back in the hospital, finishing up their work, so the room is empty.

I feel myself sink into the bed. Living conditions in 13 aren't really known for being the height of comfort, but at this time, I'm just too exhausted to care. I pull the covers over my head, willing the dark blanket of sleep the envelop me.

It doesn't come.

After about an hour of tossing and turning, I finally give up, and push myself out of bed. I feel like I'm overheating. Too many thoughts are swirling around in my head for me to sleep. I walk over to my dresser, and open the drawer that holds my few possessions. I reach inside and pulled out the pearl Peeta gave me. It feels cool to the touch, and for a while, I just sit there in the darkness, rolling it around in my fingers.

I still can't sleep. I'm not any calmer. Maybe I should just take a walk or something I think to myself. Leaving your room after hours is strictly prohibited here in 13, but I don't intend on being caught. Besides, what could they do if they caught me? Arrest me? That's laughable. Can't be the Mockingjay if I'm behind bars, can I?

Quietly, I slip out into the hallway. I have no real destination. I just want to get out of my room.

After about fifteen minutes of walking though, I see where my subconscious had taken me: Peeta's room in the hospital.

I sink down to my knees, my heart feeling like it's being squeezed painfully. Why, of all places, did I have to come here? Here was the place Peeta had almost killed me. Here was the place a part of me, at least, had died. Why here?

I feel a tiny tear rolling down my cheek. Unbelievable. I'm crying over Peeta Mellark. I had lost him, and now I was crying. Not that it would be the first time I think, thinking back to the time Peeta almost died in the Quarter Quell.

Yes, like I've shown viewers of Panem time and time again, if I lost Peeta, I would definitely cry.

But why? Why would I cry over him? My care for him was supposed to be just for the cameras. Off-screen, we were nothing more than awkward acquaintances. Unless…my feelings for Peeta had developed into something more.

No, I think fiercely. I would not love Peeta just as his mind was taken from me.

If that was the case then, I would have not trouble seeing Peeta. He was surely restrained, and probably knocked out with sedatives by now too. Bracing myself, I walk in.

I see Peeta lying there, on his bed, asleep. He looks so calm when he's sleeping. His eyebrows aren't furrowed like they were the last time I'd seen him, and his face isn't contorted into a scowl. He looks like the old Peeta. The one who loved me.

The one who I love now, I realized with a start, because it's true. I, Katniss Everdeen…I love Peeta Mellark. My heart starts to beat an unsteady rhythm. Of course. Why didn't I realize this sooner? I feel like I can't live without Peeta because…because…I love him.

Oh God. Did it really take losing Peeta to make me realize this? Perhaps I'm no better than the mutt in his hallucinations. I love whatever I can't have, and what I do have, I throw away. Mercilessly.

I feel my heart do a strange twist inside me again, as I realize that yes, I love Peeta, but it doesn't matter. Peeta will never love me again. He's beyond repair, as the doctors here say.

I would feel despair over this fact, but another thing about me, along with my heartlessness, is that I cannot follow authorities. I'm too stubborn. The doctors say there's nothing they can do about Peeta, and that's fine. There's nothing they can do. That doesn't mean there's nothing I can do. I will fix Peeta. I will make him see me again, for who I really am.

I kneel down beside his bed, the faint glow of a nearby lamp highlighting the angles of his cheekbones, and causing his eyelashes to make long shadows down his face.

I take his hand in mine, praying he won't wake up now. Even though he looks perfect, even though I'm living in a little fairy tale moment, I still can't forget that this is the hijacked Peeta, who will make to kill me without a second thought.

He doesn't stir.

Feeling a new surge of confidence, I bring his hand up to my heart, and begin to talk to him, in a hushed tone. Somehow, I want him to hear my words, to understand my words, but I don't want him to wake up.

"Peeta," I whisper. "Do you remember the mining accident that killed my father? The one in the winter? We were little back then, and Prim was even littler. The week before that accident, my father gave me a doll. I don't know where he got it from, because we couldn't afford little luxuries like toys, but one day, he just came home, with a ridiculous smile on his face, carrying a little rag doll behind his back. Probably got it from someone on the Hob. My mother was angry with him, because like me, she thought we couldn't afford things like dolls. Her anger dissipated quickly though, once she saw how much I loved that rag doll. It was the only doll I've ever owned, you know.

"Prim was jealous of me, so I let her play with my doll sometimes. Never for too long though. All little girls have a selfish streak, I guess. I loved that doll, and I didn't want anyone else to hurt it. When that mine blew up and my father blew up with it, I never let anyone touch the rag doll again. It was too precious. Even I hardly ever played with it after that, I just looked at it, and combed its yarn hair."

I take a ragged breath, the depth of what I am about to say overwhelming me.

"Peeta," I start again. "I…I love you. Just the way I loved that rag doll. I don't think I've ever loved anyone this much. When your mind seems a thousand miles away like this, when it feels like I'm losing you, it makes me cry Peeta. Losing you makes me cry, dammit!"

I'm almost angry. I hate losing control.

Again, I have to stop. The sound of my voice echoes in the small room, and I'm shaking. It's not that I don't know what to say, it's just that I don't know how to say it. I desperately want to bring Peeta back. I just don't know how to penetrate the tracker jacker venom haze that's clouding his brain. Also, my metaphors suck.

I try a different tactic.

"When I'm not with you Peeta, when I don't have you with me, I feel like I'm dying. I need you. I know I never really showed you before, because my stupid brain didn't even realize it before. I love you. You were always there for me during the Games, and without you, I think I'd go insane." I smile bitterly. "The irony of it all is, now that I've finally realized it, you hate me."

None of this is coming out right. I sound pathetic.

"I don't care what the Capitol made you think, I'll never let you down." That seemed to sum it up. "Ever. I love you, Peeta. I love you. I'll always love you. Always."

With that, I stand up, tears rolling down my face, and I stand up. Peeta's face still shows no emotional infliction. I softly squeeze his hand, as a way of saying goodbye. I'm about to leave, when I feel a little flutter in my hand.

Peeta has squeezed back.

Well, that's that! It's based on River Deep, Mountain High (as you've probably guessed from the title).

I really hope you liked it! Please take two seconds to drop a review, they mean a lot to me!

~Cherry