Five months. That's how long it's been since I've come out of my house. The sudden freshness of the air surprises me at first, but after a few minutes I become accustomed to it, and actually appreciate it. After being locked up in my room for so long, broken and unresponsive, it feels rejuvinating to come outside.

I walk carefully, not making any purposeful eye-contact with anyone that I pass by. People look at me the whole time I'm passing through, and I can't really blame them. After the rebellion ended, I closed myself off from the world and everyone in it, lost in my own grief and pain. I would be lying if I said that I didn't lose myself in the war. My mother doesn't speak to me, I can't speak to Peeta, dozens of my friends have been killed, my sister has been killed...

That last one was the main source of my breaking point. I'd already been on the verge of crumpling to pieces, and losing her had been too much for me to bear. Her sweet, innocent face fills my mind and for a moment I almost turn back. I almost go back to my house, where I'd crawl back under my covers and try to pretend as if my heart wasn't shredded to pieces.

But there's only so much a girl can pretend. I'd know.

My eyes flutter back in the direction of the Victor's Village, but I tell myself sternly that I can't go back, not after the amount of time it's been since I've come out of there. I have no idea where I'm going, but before I know it, I'm standing infront of my home in the Seam. It somehow managed to survive through the bombing, and I'm thankful for that; it's one of the only places I have fond memories of. This is the place I grew up, before my father died, before I was forced to take over so many responsibilities, before I went into the Games... This was where I spent my time before my life was completely and irrepairably destroyed.

I take a few steps forward until I've reached the front door. I hesitate for a moment before pushing it open, but I do.

Everything is almost exactly as I remembered it. The furniture is still sitting in their places as they have for years, but now they're covered in a new, thick layer of coal dust. There are no lights on, and it somehow makes it easier for me. In the darkness I can't see the details of my old home. I can't see the scratches on the floor that I know are there, or the claw marks along the bedroom doors that Buttercup has left. Even that rotten old cat can make me start crying again, just because he belonged to her.

I bite my lip, but I can't stop the pained whimper that escapes me. I try to hold myself together for another few minutes, but I can't do it. Sobbing now, I run to the bedroom I used to share with her and cry until my eyes have run out of tears. It seems almost impossible, but after so many months, I feel as if I have almost no more tears to shed.

Eventually, my pain turns into numbness and I fall into a dreamless sleep. When I wake up, I'm still clutching her pillow to my face, breathing in her scent that still lingers there after so long. It's sweet and familliar, and makes my eyes sting again.

"Pull yourself together," I whisper to myself. But I can't. The people I loved the most are either dead or gone, and I have nothing left to hold onto. Once again I find myself wishing that my last conversation with Gale had gone differently.

"Was it your bomb?" I'd asked. I didn't want him to answer at first. Then I wanted him to tell me that it wasn't, and pull me into his arms. I wanted him to stay with me while I cried, and heal the gaping wound in my chest.

But instead, he'd told me, "I don't know. Neither does Beetee." He locked his gaze with mine. In his eyes, I was unable to see the boy I'd met five years ago, the boy that soon became my other half. He whispered, "Does it matter? You'll always be thinking about it."

I wanted to deny it. I wanted to tell him that we'd find a way to find answers, a way to see through this. But my tongue was tied, and the emotion locked up in my throat weren't allowing any kind of sound to escape me.

Gale swallowed and stepped back. He didn't yell or break down. He didn't even say anything. But I could see it in his eyes just how much my silence had hurt him. I wished more than anything that I could just tell him I was sorry, but I still couldn't speak.

He walked to the door, and looked at me one last time before murmuring, "Shoot straight."

I felt as if I was about to shoot the arrow through my own chest. That's how I'd felt. I listened to him walking out the door and down the hallway, and desperately longed to run after him and collapse into his arms, where I knew I'd fit best. But I knew I couldn't do it. I couldn't do it after what he'd done.

The more I think about it, though, the more wrong I feel. I've been living -if that's what I should even call it- as if Gale was the reason she as killed. Yes, he may have designed the bombs, but we can't be sure. And something I do know is that he wasn't the one to drop them. So how can I let myself feel so much pain over him, when he wasn't even the reason she's really gone? He didn't send her out to heal the children in the Square. He didn't tell them to drop the bombs. He didn't drop the bombs. I've been living in complete torment for months without anyone to hold me, and I could be lying here with Gale's arms around me instead of being along again. I'm sick of being alone.

With trembling fingers, I reach for the portable phone I was given in the Capitol that's still in my pocket, and dial Haymitch's number. His and Peeta's are the only ones I have memorized, but I can't bear to speak to Peeta, not after everything. I've tried talking to him, yes, but it never feels right. I know that he can never love he again, just like I can never feel the same trust and longing towards him that I once did. He's just another person close to me that I've lost permanently.

"Hello?" Haymitch answers. His voice is slurred, but I can still understand what he's saying.

"Haymitch."

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" By the tone of his voice, I can tell that he's actually concerned for me. I realize a moment too late that I'm still crying, and my voice most definitely gives that away.

I close my eyes and take a shaky breath before answering. "I need you to find me Gale's phone number."

He doesn't answer for a long time. The silence doesn't bother me. Actually, it gives me enough time to pull myself together enough to be able to talk normally again. After a few minutes, though, I start to wonder if he's hung up on me.

"Hello?" I whisper.

I can hear him sigh on the other end. "So this is the end, is it? Just going to give up on Peeta and go after your cousin?"

We both know that Gale isn't related to me in any way, but I still feel a burst of guilt at the mention of Peeta. I'd thought about staying with him, but I just can't bring myself to do it. I'm scared that he'll continue to hate me forever, and that it would have all been for nothing. I'm scared that all I'll see in his eyes is a strong longing for me to leave. My heart aches just thinking about it, because I've seen the look in his eyes, and I can't face it again. I'm not strong enough anymore.

"I have to," I say. My voice cracks. "I can't keep living like this. I need him."

"Well, I can agree with that at least."

I ignore the insult. "So you'll find it for me?"

I hear him shuffle around on the other end for a couple of minutes. "Alright, sweetheart. Just promise me that you won't leave Peeta on his own. You need to visit him from time to time. He still needs you, you know."

My heart constricts at the last part, but I nod and choke out, "I promise."

XXXXXXXXXX

In no time at all I'm sitting back in my home at the Victor's Village, a slip of paper in my hands. I stare down at it for a while, memorizing each of the numbers without even meaning to. They seem to be staring up at me, coaxing me to dial them.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. "Just do it," I whisper to myself. "Do it."

In a moment of courage, I pick up the phone and dial in the numbers. But as soon as I start to hear it ringing, I panic and end up hanging up again. I do this twice until finally, I force myself to stay on the line.

It rings once.

Don't chicken out.

It rings twice.

Maybe he won't pick up, anyway.

It rings three times.

Deep breaths. You can do this.

"Hello?"

All of the breath leaves my body. It's him. It's definitely him.

After months without hearing him at all, his voice has changed. It seems deeper and older than I've ever heard it. But that doesn't matter to me now, because he's picked up the phone, and he's talking to me.

"Hello?" he asks again, this time impatiently.

I take a deep breath, in through my nose and out through my mouth. "Gale."

He seems to have lost his abillity to breathe properly, too. "Catnip?" he whispers.

"Yeah." I'm not completely sure if I spoke loudly enough for him to hear me, but that might be a good thing ~ my voice sounds completely broken.

He's silent on the other line, and in that moment, I break down. I start crying. I try to muffle it with my hand, but it just makes me even louder. My heart feels as if it's being crushed by a huge boulder, and my entire body is shaking. At first I think that it's from sadness, but with further inspection I realize that it's from anger. It could be all of my emotions coming back to me and making me go crazy, but all of a sudden I'm furious with him.

"H-how could y-you?" I sob. "How could you leave me?"

"Katniss, you know I didn't want to. I had no choice," he says. It sounds like somebody is squeezing the breath out of him, but I don't care. I'm too upset.

"No choice? I needed you! I needed you, and you left! You stopped fighting!" I scream.

"Please," he begs. "Stop."

I shake my head frantically. "I'm done, Gale. I'm done with everything. Maybe I should just... just..." My anger fades and I'm back to bawling my eyes out. I desperately needed him, and he left me alone. He stayed with me all those years, but when I needed him the most, he didn't follow. He left to District 2, where he was probably already hooking up with some other, more beautiful girl. Somebody who would treat him better than me: a broken, mess of a person.

I hear something on the other end of the line and realize that Gale is crying, too. I've never, in my six years of knowing him, ever heard or seen him cry.

"Katniss," he cries. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

We cry together. We cry for everyone who was lost, all of the relationships and hearts that have been broken over the last couple of years ~ seventy five years, actually. I cry for the innocent lives that have been taken, for the people who have died under my hands; he cries for Prim.

And eventually, when we've both run out of tears, he says, "I'm coming home, Catnip. For good."

XXXXXXXXXX

Have a listen to Katniss and Gale's theme song: Let Me Take You There ~ The Plain White T's WARNING: You might cry.