The Unopened Door

Canon Fic. Katniss has been back in District 12 for almost a year, she and Peeta are slowly growing back together, but they are in a somewhat grey area as to what their relationship truly is. One morning Katniss finds a door that will open a whole new world up to them. Lemons and fluffiness. Yeah, I know, it's been done a lot, but this one has got a twist.

Disclaimer: Suzanne Collins owns The Hunger Games. I just like to play with her awesome characters.

Chapter 1: Finding the Door

My semi peaceful sleep is cut short; through my eye lids I can see lighting illuminating the room, a crack of thunder simultaneously strikes causing the house to shake… Or is it a bomb? The sounds are so similar that I can never tell the difference.

My survivor senses are alight. I open my eyes to find my surroundings washed in dim light, and the room where I awake is foreign to me and yet familiar. For a split second, in my half wakened state, I panic and reach over looking for the arms that keep me grounded and safe, but his side of the bed is cold. It is the Quell all over again, I can't see him, and I don't know where he is. "Peeta!" I call over and over again.

Peeta bursts through the door and rushes to my side on a crutch.

"Katniss! It's alright!" He insists and gently grasps my shoulders before he pulls me close to him. "I'm here, its okay. See?"

Slowly I realize where I am, in Peeta's room in his Victor's house. When I finally see him with clear eyes, I notice he has a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair is wet, he must have been in the shower. Suddenly I feel terrible as I become fully aware; he didn't even pause to put on his artificial leg before he came to me. "Peeta, I'm so sorry…" I say trying to catch my breath and keep from sobbing. "I heard the thunder….And you weren't here…It was the …"

"The Quell," he says solemnly and then presses his forehead to mine and rubs my arms. "I know I have the same nightmare too sometimes when it rains at night."

We sit there for a moment as I collect myself then I realize that I'm clinging to his damp, nearly naked body, a strange thrill washes over me. When my breathing finally evens out Peeta pulls away, clears his throat, and knowing that neither one of us likes to relive our weak moments for too long changes the subject. "I better get going; it's already almost eight o' clock."

"Really, it's that late?" I ask shocked, usually we're up by six at the latest. "Why did you let us sleep so late?" I tease him.

"You were up at least three times." Peeta informs me and then he adds softly. "Plus sometimes I just like to hold you and watch you sleep." I remember now, the nightmares seem like distant memories at present. Peeta was there to comfort me and soothed me back to sleep.

"I like you holding me." I say just as softly, before I can stop myself.

Peeta smiles a little then motions to the window and changes the subject again. "The weather is going get worse as the day wears on."

"How do you know?" I ask sheepishly as I try not to stare at half naked Peeta. Often I catch myself examining the patchwork skin that's not unlike my own, although it is the broad shoulders and the expanse of his chest is what really attracts my gaze. He no longer resembles the shadow that was rescued from the Capitol, now Peeta is the clear eyed embodiment of health and resilience. I wish I could say the same could be said about me, I still feel broken.

Peeta returns to the bed and says. "Cause my leg… or lack thereof is aching." Peeta smiles and rubs the end of what he jokingly refers to as the 'stump', before attaching his artificial leg that he left on his side of the bed. He kisses my forehead and tells me. "Go back to sleep. You had a rough night and we both know that hunting is out of the question today."

Peeta walks back into the bathroom to put clothes on, he doesn't shut the door completely. Of course, he still doesn't care if I see him naked.

"Don't you want me to help you today? I can go with you to make deliveries." I call out to the bathroom. Sometimes I go with him on days that I don't hunt. I like having something to do, but I really like just spending time with him, although I've never admitted that to him.

"No, I've only got a few deliveries today then I have to go fill out some paperwork at the government office so we can get started on the new bakery in a couple of months." Peeta says and then sweeps some of my stray wisps of hair behind my ear and lets his warm rough hand rest on my cheek for a moment. "I'll be back soon. Then we'll have all day to work on the book, there isn't much else we can today."

"Okay," I say as look into his brilliant blue eyes, he has convinced me. "Come back soon." It looks like it's one of the days where he wants to take care of me, so I'll give it to him. Dr. Aurelius told me to let Peeta take do special things for me from time to time, its shows him that I trust him.

"I will, I promise." He assures me and then gives me a sweet kiss, with his lips just partially parted and I return it happily. Peeta pulls back and gives me a cute boyish grin and playfully pushes me back into the bed. "Now go back to sleep."

"Yes, father." I sigh with a smile on my face. Peeta is the only person in the world that can talk to me like that and get a smile, anybody else would have received a scowl.

Peeta keeps our game going by adding in a half serious tone as he walks out the door. "Now if you're a good girl I'll make you some cookies later."

"I want chocolate chip!" I holler after him and I lay back down and to my surprise I fall into a restful state, our exchange has brightened my mood. I don't really sleep but I do relax and day dream. I find myself consumed with thoughts of Peeta, which is something that happens more and more often as of late. This morning I think of how close we've become since his return home. It's early March and I've been back home for almost a year, for the first couple of months I'm ashamed to say that I nearly gave up on life. But, Peeta has helped to bring me back bit by bit starting with primroses and bringing me bread every morning. He inspired me to live again. In time we started to talk again and occasionally we would spend time together. We would eat breakfast together every day. Eventually we started to also eat dinner together every night and sometimes lunch if I wasn't hunting.

One night after dinner I told him my idea about the memory book and asked him to help me. He enthusiastically agreed and was happy to have something to do besides bake and baby sit Haymitch. I think we both liked the idea of spending countless hours sitting together, like we had when we worked on the plant book. It has been therapeutic for the both of us to put our memories down on paper. Working on the book wasn't always easy, in fact sometimes it was very painful, but we worked through it together and took turns comforting each other. We promised each other that we live to make the deaths of our loved ones count and because it's what they would want for us.

Our hands would sometimes brush or we would bump into each other awkwardly as we worked. I think Peeta was afraid of hurting me during a flashback so he had kept his distance in the beginning. The day we were working on Prim's page, I broke into sobs Peeta hugged me and soothed me with his most gentle voice. After that day embraces and hand holding became more common. I knew that he was slowly getting more confident again when he started to kiss my cheek and put his arm around my waist as we would walk together.

We took care of each other, because that's what we do. I would help him clean his house and tend his cuts after particularly bad tracker jacker attacks (which thankfully are few and fewer all of the time) he had when he was on his own. Together we found out that I could help prevent full blown attacks. When I saw him grasp the back of a chair as his eyes dilated, I would place my hands on cheeks, force him to look me in the eyes, whisper over and over again 'not real, Peeta, not real' or sometimes I would sing, and he would come back to me soon. I'm not afraid that he'll hurt me during an attack although what he could do to himself while I'm not there scares the hell out of me. Peeta can get very sullen and hopeless after a full blown attack. Those are the days I have to play 'what would Peeta do' and I had to be the strong one and tell him about how good life can be for us again someday. Sometimes I can almost convince myself.

On days that I found it impossible to get out of bed because depression over took me, Peeta would come over and coax me into eating and drinking and was able to pull me back into reality. He used a laundry list of reasons why I had to pull myself out of my funk, but there was one he used that carried more weight than all of the rest. "Katniss," Peeta whispered to me as he lay next to me and held my face between his large hangs. "I need you to be well, because if you lose it than I've got no reason to hang on." That one sentence was enough to make me want to really live again, I have to, because I can't let Peeta fall apart.

After we dozed off together on my couch one night and we awoke the next day, our bodies entwined, to find that we had actually slept for the first time in ages. Sleeping together soon became a near nightly event, although the arrangement was purely about rest and comfort, just like it had been during the Victory tour. Although, as time went by we would awake in more and more intimate positions: our chests pressed together with my leg sandwiched between his, hands placed inappropriately, and one really awkward morning Peeta's face was nestled between my breasts and I could feel a tiny puddle of drool on my chest. Once in a great while I would awaken to a hardness pressed into my back or thigh. Neither one of us would say a word about it other than a quiet apology or an embarrassed blush. I would tell myself that it was simply because he was a boy, well not a boy anymore but a man and that he couldn't help it, it had nothing to do with me. A part of me can't accept that Peeta would want me like that ever again; I've put him through too much.

Sometimes I let myself think that we've been inching towards something new and wonderful, something that I've only ever gotten a taste of a handful of times. The feeling that only Peeta has ever awakened in me: in the cave and on the beach. I thought this when he first kissed me, really kissed me again. About a month ago we decided to take a rare break from the book and have a 'night of fun'; this was Peeta's idea of course. For some reason, he had spent the day making dozens of sugar cookies with elaborate iced designs on them, he had given all but a dozen of them away. We had forgone our usual routine of dinner then desert, and went straight to the cookies. There was one cookie left and we both grabbed for it, I was just a little faster and got it first. Somehow a chase ensued and Peeta playfully ran behind me all throughout the house. I ran just fast enough to keep out of his reach, but with a sudden lunge he reached around my waist and picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder, like a bag of flour. Both of us were laughing like kids, Peeta carried me over to the couch and tossed me onto it and dropped next to me. We were both out of breath from running and laughing, Peeta pushed my loose hair out of my face and just looked at me for a few seconds then he slowly closed the gap between us and pressed his lips to mine. I returned the kiss before I even knew what I was doing, it was chaste for the most part, but I could feel a heat simmering just below the surface. He pulled back after about a minute and surveyed my face. I could tell he was afraid that he had done something wrong.

So I tried to reassure him by saying softly. "Thank you, Peeta."

"For what?" He asked apparently confused at what I was thanking him for.

"For making me laugh, for the cookies, the kiss, and everything else." I broke the cookie in half and fed a piece to him before I shoved the rest of it in my mouth greedily, making us both laugh again. I hoped that I wouldn't have to explain what everything else was, because I couldn't even begin to thank him for every extraordinary thing that he had ever done for me. Thankfully, that was all he needed to hear and he did not press the subject any further.

Most of the nights that we have spent together have been at my house. Although recently we've started to spend more time at Peeta's house, it made more sense. Sae no longer cooks for me every day, so Peeta suggested that I bring my game over so we could prepare it together while he baked. His kitchen was better stocked and Peeta is much better at cooking then I am. We also find it more convenient to work on the book here too, since all of Peeta's art supplies are here. In addition to all of the practical reasons, I've found that I like being in Peeta's house. He actually took the time to paint every room in the house and replaced some the generic Capitol furnishing with handpicked choices. Also, there are fewer triggers waiting around the corner to remind me of Prim and I like that it feels like I can start over again here.

I look at the walls of the room, examining them for the first time in the morning light. At night we wait until we are both beyond exhausted to before we go to bed. Peeta leads me to his room and dims the lights knowing how self conscious I am about him seeing my scars. Peeta always assures me that he doesn't care about the scars and tells me often that we match and that I'm still beautiful, I think that he is just being nice.

It is usually still dark when I get up, Peeta feeds me breakfast, and then I leave to hunt when Peeta starts baking. It's our routine, it works for us and it helps us to heal. As I examine the proportions of the room I realize that it is not the upstairs master suite, like my bedroom at my house. I know this because Peeta's house is identical to mine in construction, just like all of the Victors' homes. This room is smaller and has no fireplace. When I go to braid my hair and brush my teeth I notice that the attached bathroom is small containing just a shower stall, toilet and sink. This was Prim's room at my house.

"Why wouldn't Peeta use the master bedroom instead of the smaller one?" I wonder. I know that this bedroom is much larger than most merchant living rooms but it still strikes me as odd. What is he using the big room for? His uses the down stairs study for painting and the other rooms are kept in order for guests (just in case anyone still alive wants to come see us). I'm curious, I'm usually not one to pry into someone else's business but this is Peeta. I'm reminded that I should know so much more about him than I already do. Pulling off Peeta's shirt that I had slept in and I put the jeans and sweater back on that I had worn over here last night, I leave the room that we had slept in.

Silently, I creep down the hall to the big double doors at the end of it. The knob is cold in my hand and I wonder if I should be snooping, but curiosity has gotten the better of me. Upon opening the doors my jaw drops at what I see before me. The large, spacious room is painted in the most vibrant, luscious, and complementary shades of green that I have ever seen. I know the proportions and layout of this room because it's just like mine at my house yet this room is like no other in any of the Victor houses.

The rustic knotty pine furniture looked handmade and it is simple in design. Framed and matted, water color pictures of familiar plants hang on the wall; they look identical to some of the pictures in my plant book. I can tell at a glance that they've been created by Peeta's hand. The biggest picture of all is of a dandelion that hangs above the headboard of the bed. I go to examine it closer and I run my had over the mattress, the comforter is velvety to the touch and is creamy white in color and with a toile design in green, upon closer inspection I see that the design depicts wild animals in the woods. The throw pillows have similar plants stitched into them as the pictures on the wall. Overwhelmed by the loveliness that surrounds me, I sit on the bed and I exhale the breath that I didn't even know that I was holding. The fireplace is surrounded by large smooth river stones and has a rough hewn log for a mantle. To me it is far more appealing the gaudy marble, mahogany and brass monstrosity that's in my room.

Why wouldn't Peeta use this wonderful room? This room is so beautiful; it was masculine yet still very feminine. Studying the details of the room more closely I notice the beautiful sliver brush and comb set and the matching jars and container that lie on the makeup table. I pick up the brush and admire its intricate design I see that it has engraved initials on it, KM. Suddenly I realize that this room wasn't for Peeta it had been meant for me, or at least it was meant for Katniss Mellark, the wife he would have had if not been for the Quarter Quell.

I sit there and I try to absorb all of this. Logically I know pre-hijacked Peeta would have happily done something like this for me, but the skeptic in me still won't ever let me believe that Peeta could ever love me like this again. I feel a little pang in my heart as I realize that the Peeta from before was no longer here, he couldn't ever love me like that again, he's been through too much, he's seen all of my ugliness and flaws, and he'll never love me like that again. Or could he?

Although sometimes I have to wonder if this theory was a figment of my imagination. After all Peeta did come back to District 12, he had no other reason to return, most everyone he knew and loved in the world was gone. Would he really spend all of his time piecing me back together if he didn't still love me?

Thank you for reading my story! This is my second Fan Fic, it will most likely be three chapters long.

Major thanks to kismit4891 my wonderful Beta.

Please read and review, reviews make my day.