A/N - Hi! Sorry for the late update, I've worked my ass off lately. So, assuming most of you have read Mockingjay, I gave myself the privilege to skip the whole 'blowing up the Nut' action. I started writing it down, but then I realized it takes a whole chapter, so it's mostly trimmed down and a bit vague. Hopefully, you'll do just fine. Also thank you for the amazing reviews and PM's. I'm glad you guys are this invested in the story as I am. Enjoy and don't forget to tell me what you're thinking!

Truths

One gunshot. One bullet missing her vital organs by less than one inch, and that's only by what she could gather. Although splayed on the floor like a wreck, bleeding once again in less than 24 whole hours, she still pleaded, begged.

"Surrender! Don't let any more innocents die."

More gunshots, unfamiliar ones. They were getting that man down, that much was clear to her.

"Stop! No!"

More gunshots, and then silence. Utter stillness, not a leave rustling in the wind, not a spare breath taken from either side. It was over all too soon. She closed her tear-filled eyes, thinking of the deceased. It was a while until anyone managed to get to her aid, lifting her off the ground, dressing her bullet stricken wound. She couldn't bring herself to recognize the arms. They felt firm, thick, but not comforting.
Was she captured? Taken captive? She tried to mute her loud groans of pain, hoping they would think her dead, leave her be until she can gather enough strength to attempt and make a run for it.
She was carried around like a rag doll, her limbs tangling in the air in a messy dance. Her ears rang due to the massive bombs that were being thrown only minutes ago. Another pair of arms engulfed her fragile body, helping her down onto the ground. She allowed herself a tiny peek, opening only one of her eyes to get a glance at her capturers. He was turned away from her, possibly talking to someone, his blonde hair sticking out awkwardly. Better pretend being dead.

Heavy silence fell down between them. Katniss tried breathing through her nose, slowly, deliberately. From the corner of her eyes she managed to catch his fingers fumbling, fidgeting with one another. She refrained from snorting at his obvious discomfort.

"I thought we were already married." She hissed through pressed lips.

He stilled his movements, shifting on his legs uncomfortably to find a better footing. The moss on the ground was slippery enough for him to slide down to the water, possibly get hit by the pebbles. A vivid scenario ran quietly through her head, and a slight smile crept on her lips.

"So did I." Peeta finally answered with defeat. A low surge of bitter laughter rose from the depths of her throat.

"Is it really just the wedding? I can do that. Act for the cameras like we did." She was perfectly aware of how her words were mentally stabbing him, yet she couldn't help herself. He was hurting her right back. Peeta released a long sigh, measuring his words carefully.

"No. We'll have to adjust our living arrangements, too. We'll have to be together from sunrise to dawn, shooting propos, practicing, whatever she tells us to do." It came uneasy from his mouth; even though not too long ago he could proudly say it's his only wish in life. To be that close to her, to love, to be loved.

"Husband and wife." She breathed in terror. Coin was no better than Snow, that much was established by now.

"Husband and wife." He repeated, making sure she understands the meaning fully.

"And what if I don't want to?" Her head turned towards him suddenly, capturing his watery eyes.
He shook his head no, his eyes casted down immediately. Prim, Finnick, Gale, her mother, all in danger. It felt a little too familiar.

A pair of hands attended to her wound, dressing it once again.
It was right beneath her shoulder blades, close to her right, shooting arm, a gaping hole, through and through.
It felt like something was repeatedly hitting her with a heavy, thorny pan, piercing holes through her body. She got injected with a syringe a few times in different places, and then everything felt numb, elevated, good.
Haymitch hovered over her, his eyes hard, inspecting. She tried to say something, but all that came out was a slight croak. He hushed her by putting a firm finger on her lips, telling her to 'shut up' and that she's fine. She snarled at him, biting his finger when he tried to walk away.
Her message recieved clearly, as he sat by her side once again, in a more permanent looking crouch.

"Finnick's fine. We're all fine. It's just you and your heroine speech. No wonder you got shot." He admitted with his eyebrows furrowed. She closed her eyes at this, dismissing him. He'll get his fit as soon as she gets better. She didn't need a reminder of her useless attempts to save them all.

The pebble jumped three times altogether. She was getting slightly better at this. Peeta, as expected, didn't quite catch up with her, his pebble sinking immediately into the water.

"There will be ground rules." She stated gloomily, knowing that he wouldn't dare to argue. He tried throwing another pebble into the distance, hitting a tree bark instead of the rushing water.

"Katniss… don't." He tried with another pebble already in hand.

"I did not choose this. There will be ground rules." She insisted, counting four jumps for her winning pebble.

"Not yours. Not mine. It's just like you said, we did not choose this." He urged on desperately, trying to get her to calm down, think rationally. She was never the one to think rationally, at least not at first thought.

"I didn't choose this. I don't know about you." She remarked bitterly, questioning his reliability for the hundredth time today. Another stab, another wound. He snapped at this, throwing his hesitating, calm attire to the water with their rocks.

"Do you think I enjoy this? Forcing you to be with me? To share a bed with me? To live beside me against your will?" The obvious distress in his voice got her to halt her movements. She stared at the small stream of cool water running peacefully towards the awaiting waterfall not too far away.

"She threatened you?" It finally downed on her.

"I would never do that by choice, Katniss. I still love you." His voice came out harsh, painful.

Her legs started moving on their own accord, carrying her away from him, walking out. His profession echoed in the back of her mind, making her run, her steps light as a feather. A single tear escaped her eye, instantly dried by the wind. Finnick. She needed Finnick.

She tried to stay awake during the flight back, to take in her surroundings, the conversations.
Boggs injected her couple more times, forcing her to fall back into this painless slumber she couldn't stand, saying it's 'better this way' and that 'she'll thank him later'.
She found herself preferring the pain, the ability to feel Finnick's fingers encircling her palm, to smell the scent of his constant presence.
She couldn't bring herself to tell him when she finally found him back at the barn, fully awake, worried.
He grabbed her and pinned her to a wall gently, his wounds preventing him to be more forceful. He cupped her face with both of his warm hands.
"Where have you been? Are you okay? How are you feeling?" and so on, refusing to let her go, to allow her a breath here and there until he knows for sure that she's perfectly fine.
She kissed him tentatively, not saying a thing. He kissed back eagerly, nipping at her lips, punishing her for leaving without announcement.
What was she supposed to say? That this was possibly their last encounter this close to one another for the time being? That she has to share a bed with someone who isn't him?
He proceeded by hugging her tightly, his arms wrapped around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I thought…" He trailed off, taking a deep breath in between words, "I love you." He finished, breathing her in.
The feeling of his lungs expanding this close to her heart sent a violent shiver down her spine. He could have died. She could have died. It could have been so much worse, and yet. And yet.

Johanna helped her rise to her feet, supporting her side, and surprisingly allowing Gale to support her other side, both of them walking her back to the underground district.
Finnick limped behind, supported by Haymitch and Boggs. Plutrach led the way to the hospital wing, his expression a mixture of triumph and pain. Was he aware of Coin's plans? Katniss's inner conflict grew louder as they got closer to the hospital. He wouldn't. He already saved them once. Risked his life for them.
She felt a pang of guilt for questioning her friends, for the unsuppressed suspicion she tried to lock down, for the mistrust that used to characterize her once upon a time.

They put both her and Finnick in different rooms, although both rooms were big enough to contain them both.
A team of white-coated doctors huddled around her, taking blood, injecting, piercing, hooking, soothing.
She was ordered to flex her fingers every other minute. It was harder than she originally thought; given the awkward twitch she felt whenever she tried.
The nurse visited three times a day, urging her to continue.
By the end of the third day, Katniss managed to move both her arm and three fingers, still working relentlessly on her forefinger and thumb, both reluctant to behave.
By the fifth day, she managed to move them all, her hand flexing beautifully to her will.
There were no visitations, from anyone. She kept grilling the nurse, who was the only one to appear and kept her company for her entire stay. She asked about Finnick, Prim and the others, but never Peeta. The nurse merely shrugged, refusing to answer.
Katniss never believed that day would arrive, but the loss of human contact was slowly causing her to lose it. Panic surged through her body the first couple of days, realizing they were withholding information for a cause. Not knowing why instantly drove her to try and manipulate her way out of the hospital bed, trying to convince the nurse to loosen the suffocating confines that were strictly bounding her to the bed by her wrists and ankles.
Days passed by and she finally understood the meaning of being imprisoned. It took her seven whole days to start screaming and kicking, tearing whatever equipment she could from her body. A team of doctors reappeared, and she immediately knew why. They pinned her down by her thighs, and a vivid memory of Peeta being treated the same flashed before her eyes.
Rational thinking wasn't her strong suit, and before she could do anything, the familiar pang of injection on the inside of her thigh got her to close her eyes and fall back down, unconscious.

Katniss awoke the next day to find her confines all gone. She sat up abruptly, her back aching due to the prolonged lying.
"Easy. Don't make any sharp movements." Peeta's voice reached her ears. Her eyes narrowed at him, her body tense. He was seated by her bed, his elbows resting on his knees, studying her. He was wearing his grey uniforms, which suddenly looked two sizes bigger than he was.

"You've lost weight." It slipped from her mouth unintentionally, causing him to raise his eyebrows in surprise.

"Thanks. You're not too shabby yourself." He retorted quietly, a crooked smile on his lips. She was far from amused.

"Finnick?" She demanded, adjusting the pillow behind her for support. Peeta's smile faded as quickly as it came.

"Back to his chambers. Everyone's fine." He reassured her, his hand suddenly mid-air, as if he's about to touch her. She shifted away from him, letting him know it's a long, lost shot.
His hand quickly returned to his lap, fingers fidgeting again. She developed some kind of hatred towards his new trait. She felt like pinning his hands down, preventing him from continuing.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice croaked. Being completely honest with herself, she already knew the answer.

"To escort you back to-"

"Our room?" She cut him off non-too gently. Their room.
Peeta nodded slowly, his fingers picking up their pace, tangled with each other.

They stopped talking after that. He handed her a pair of clean uniforms, obediently turning around as she peeled the hospital gown off her bony form. He wasn't the only who's lost weight, she realized.
They walked quietly to his-their chambers, keeping a fine distance from each other. Peeta pulled out his key, handing Katniss her own copy awkwardly. She tucked it inside her pocket as he opened the lock.
He led the way inside, allowing her to look around and take in their surrounding.
Katniss gasped when she noticed the large-enough-for-two bed in the room that she could otherwise call quite empty. None of them ever had the luxury to sleep in one of these in this district, and yet, there it was, staring back at her with viciousness. Coin was putting extra effort just for her.
All that, and Finnick was none the wiser. She silently hoped that he somehow managed to stay clueless during the week. She wanted to be the one to tell him.
An obvious pink note was placed on the middle of the bed, and Katniss climbed on top of it, reaching for the paper.

"What does it say?" Peeta's voice came close behind her, as he huddled closer to her in order to read it, yet still careful enough not to invade her personal space. Coin's signature was all he could catch though, his eyebrows knitted together in concern.

"That we're getting 'married' tomorrow morning, and that it will broadcasted live to the national television", Katniss answered grimly, her hand curled into a fist, the empty contents of her stomach threatening to rise, "oh, and a sincere suggestion that we use our valuable time for a good night sleep."