This is my take on the very popular "growing together" fanfic subject. It starts the morning after Peeta has come home to District 12, which is also the morning after Buttercup has reappeared.

"Katniss," Greasy Sae scolds me, "don't waste bacon on that mangy old cat."

I ignore her and keep feeding bits to Buttercup. If Prim were here, I would offer her everything I have. But she is gone, and all that is left of her is this ugly old cat, so I offer my bacon to him. Peeta, who arrived for breakfast with Greasy Sae, winks at me and slides a piece of his bacon onto my plate. I scowl at him and push it back. He looks hurt and doesn't try to give it to me again.

After breakfast, Peeta and Sae do the dishes while I wander out to the front porch. The sunlight is unfamiliar, almost overwhelming in its brightness. I sit in a wooden rocker and stare into space. Sitting here in the Victor's Village I can almost forget that District Twelve was completely destroyed. Apart from the now untended lawns, the empty Victor's mansions look the same as they always have. I know a few of the houses closer to town are occupied by people returning to Twelve and government and military people leading the recovery effort, but this last row of houses is occupied by just Haymitch, Peeta, and I.

I must be deep in thought or half asleep because next thing I know, Peeta is standing beside me. His tread was noisy when he had both legs, and it's ridiculously loud on his prosthetic, so it's a wonder I didn't hear him coming.

"Sae had to go," he says. "She'll be back around four."

I nod. I'm familiar with our schedule. Sae comes by twice a day, around 10am for breakfast and around 4pm for dinner. She cooks for me and forces me to eat. I eat when I can and try not to be completely rude, though some days I'm more affable than others.

"Will you be back?" I ask Peeta. They are the first words I have spoken out loud today, and Peeta visibly perks up at the sound of my weak and seldom-used voice.

"Yes," he replies, "if you'll let me. Sae will be feeding us both, and it would be easier for her if I came here rather than making her stop at my house too. Is that ok?"

I nod, but I do not speak again, or even make eye contact with Peeta. I don't know why he came back or how long he'll be here, but if it makes it easier for Sae, he can take his meals here. After a minute he sighs quietly and walks across the lawn to his house.

That afternoon, Peeta and Sae arrive together. He brings cookies for Greasy Sae's little Granddaughter, Savannah. Savannah is about five years old, and she lives in her own little world. I don't know what happened to her parents, Sae's son and his wife, but it's a pretty good guess that they died in the firebombing like everyone else. There are enough dead haunting my dreams, so I don't ask for details. Sae doesn't bring Savannah this time, probably afraid of what will happen when Peeta and I are in the same room again, but her face lights up at the unexpected and thoughtful treat.

"Real cookies," says Sae, almost reverently. She takes in a deep sniff of the treats. "I can't remember the last time I had a cookie."

Peeta smiles and promises many more to come.

"I brought you some cookies, too, Katniss," he says to me.

Everything tastes like ash, and I have no appetite, but I don't want to be rude, so I mumble my thanks.

When dinner is served, Greasy Sae informs us that she has to get back to Savannah, and Peeta assures her that we can handle the dinner dishes. She pats us both on the shoulder and leaves with her cookies.

"Katniss," begins Peeta, "how have you been?"

His attempt at small talk grates on my nerves. I scowl at him, refusing to answer.

"Right," he says to himself, "dumb question."

I nod at him and walk to the trash with my bowl of stew. It's still half full, but I have no appetite and Sae isn't here to force me to eat.

Peeta tries again. "Would you like to wash the dishes, or dry?"

I shrug my shoulders, gathering things from the table and carrying them to the sink. Peeta sighs and carries his dishes to the sink. He washes and I dry. The only sound is the splash of water and the gentle clinking of dishes. I feel my shoulders begin to relax as we work side-by-side in companionable silence.

When the dishes are done and the counters are wiped, Peeta turns to face me.

"Katniss, is there anything else you would like me to do?"

At first, I'm surprised by the question. My world consists of this kitchen and the little bathroom down the hall, with occasional visits to the living room and my bedroom upstairs. Greasy Sae has been keeping the house clean and keeping me fed. What else could I need? I shake my head and Peeta wishes me a good evening on his way out the door.

Once he is gone, I feel lonely. We didn't even talk, but I miss his company. I've been alone for a long time with just Sae, and occasionally Savannah, visiting for meals. I take up my spot in the old armchair by the kitchen fireplace. This is where I have spent most of my time in the days since I came back from the Capital. How long have a been here? A week or two? Longer?

I spend the night the way I have spent all my nights since I came back to Twelve – feeding small bits of bark and firewood to the kitchen fire. I could put a big log on the fire, but it isn't that cold tonight, and feeding the fire all night gives me something to do. I like to be beside the fire; it makes me feel safe, a guarantee against the darkness. I doze off now and then, but I won't allow myself to fall asleep deeply. I know I need to sleep, but if I don't sleep I can't dream, and I cannot dream.

Eventually, my exhaustion wins and I fall asleep.

I dream of the mine again, the old dream I used to have after my father died. But this time it's not my father at the bottom of the shaft, it's Prim. I can hear her voice screaming for me to save her from deep down the mine shaft. An explosion rocks the ground, fire shoots out of the shaft, and I know that I am too late to save her. I am always too late to save her.

I wake with a start. The fire has died out, but thankfully the sun is coming up. It's so much worse to wake up from a nightmare when there is more night to get through. I make my way to the foyer closet and put on my boots and my father's hunting jacket. I gather the bow and arrows that Gale rescued, and begin to walk to the woods. I make a wide circle to avoid the meadow and its mass grave, and slip under the fence.

The lush green forest has an instant calming effect on me. It is cool in the shadow of its rich, green foliage. I hear small creatures scampering around and birds calling in the early morning light. My entire world was destroyed, but the woods, like the Victor's Village, remains the same. But unlike the Village, the woods are alive, fresh, and vibrant. For a few minutes I just stand and take it in, gulping deep breaths of the woodsy-scented air.

I know I won't hunt this morning. I don't know if I will ever be able to kill with a bow and arrow again. I decide instead to walk the line of snares that Gale set up years ago. I can set the ones that are in good shape and repair the ones that need work. Then in a few days I can come back and check them. I know Sae will appreciate some fresh game, and this way I won't have to do the killing with my own hands.

By the time I finish checking the lines, I am getting tired. I know the trek home will be slow, and I'm probably going to be late for breakfast with Sae and Peeta. I should have left a note. I take the shortest route I know back to the fence, and slip under it. I don't have the time or energy to go the long way around the meadow, so I take a deep breath to steady my nerves and begin walking toward the Victor's Village, averting my eyes from the huge hole slashed in the once-beautiful meadow.

On the far side of the meadow, someone is running toward me. Peeta. I wave so he knows I'm not in any trouble, but he runs to me anyway.

"Are you ok?" he asks, his breathing heavy and his face a mask of worry.

My first instinct is to snap at him that I don't need babysitting. But the truth is that I'm broken. I can't take care of myself. I can't hunt, and I rely on Sae to feed me and keep my house. My fire is gone. I probably do need babysitting.

I swallow my pride and reply, "Yeah, sorry, I don't have the energy I used to. It takes me longer than I remember to get home."

"We were worried about you," he adds, trying not to scold but failing.

"I know. And I'm sorry. I should have left a note."

"What were you doing? Hunting?"

"No," I reply with a sad sigh. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to take another life with my bow and arrows. I was resetting snare lines. I'll go back in a couple days to see if they caught anything."

His face is sympathetic. If anyone understands my new aversion to hunting, it's Peeta. I imagine how Gale would react to my statement, and for a minute I'm glad he's not here. I'm sure he would ridicule me and try to push me into changing my mind. But Peeta understands. He knows what it's like to be broken, to have your fire extinguished.

Silently, we make our way back to the Village, to a worried Greasy Sae and a cold breakfast.