It was after the end of it all, after all the killing and the death, after the fear and pain. It was after the assassination and after the death of Prim. Taking a deep breath Katniss still couldn't believe it was finally over. There was a new world right outside her door, but she didn't want to face it. She didn't want to face a new beginning after such a tragic end, even if that end was for the good of everyone. Still, she couldn't see it. She couldn't see where she would fit into the world.

She supposed she was just depressed, the way her mother was after the mining accident, because she couldn't do anything. Most days she could barely stand to do a single thing, on the occasion of a better day she might be able to feed herself without shaking, but those were few and far between. Usually she would just lay on the couch for hours and pray that something would come along and end her misery before she fell back to sleep again. She was useless and she hated it, shaking with self-directed fury at the very thought of being like her mother.

She didn't want to sleep, not with the many nightmares which played behind her eyelids when she was all alone. She could still see the real life horrors of the past whenever she closed her eyes. She could still visualize every drop of blood, every face twisted with fear, and every fire or explosion that had created the world as it was now. With all the blood shed both inside and outside the arena, she could hardly believe that anyone could have survived, especially her. She shook her head to get the bad thoughts out, but still they remained, burned into her mind like they were branded there by hot iron. She knew she would never be able to forget it.

She tried to focus on the only brighter topic her mind could think of, the thought of the only two people that actually cared to see her anymore, Haymitch and Peeta. Gale had abandoned her for his twisted belief of the "greater good", and her own mother had abandoned her in her grief. It was hardly the first time it had happened, but it still hurt. Everyone else that cared for her was dead and gone. She felt like crying, but she was out of tears. So instead she just sat there motionless and expressionless for what felt like months.

When was the last time she had showered? She asked herself the question though she didn't honestly care. Regardless, washing up gave her something to do and a place for her mind to think of something monotonous rather than depressing. She dragged herself shakily off the couch and into the bathroom. Like the rest of her home it was filled with the gifts of the capitol that truly felt like more of a curse. Her bathroom cabinet was filled with so many pointlessly luxurious soaps that she was sure she would never in three lifetimes use them up completely. In her mind she would rather bathe in a puddle of mud before she let the fancy things grace her flesh. With their scents came memories of waxing, primping, makeup and Cinna. She wasn't sure which if it was worse to think of him or to try forgetting him. She wondered if he was still betting on her, because she certainly wasn't.

She dug through the perfumed and scented shampoos and soaps until she found a godsend, a single unscented bar of glycerin soap. She grabbed it and the least pungent scented shampoo she could find and turned on the water, hating the ease of it when she was used to heating water for her and Prim's baths in a basin.

She had been wearing the same clothes for quite some time, and as she took them off, she found them to be almost completely clean. She hadn't even moved from the couch for days except when absolutely necessary, so they weren't dirty, perhaps they held a layer of dust on the outside like the rest of the surfaces of her "home". She wasn't going to wear them again though, not when she had a closet full of clothes she could wear. The clothes meant nothing. They were scraps of fabric without her favorite fashion expert. It hurt to think about him again. It broke her heart to think about Cinna or Prim or anyone else whom she had loved. It hurt deep in her heart and she hated it.

She wondered as she stepped into the water whether if her heart stopped beating it would still hurt as much. She doubted that even death could end her pain. The water was icy cold and she realized she hadn't even bothered to turn it on hot. She didn't care that it felt like ice, she was just glad to have something else to think about. She scrubbed herself raw as if scrubbing away grime would scrub away her memories. Her hands shook no matter how hard she tried to steady them, but taking a shower was the most she had made herself do all week. She had shampooed her hair about three times when there was a knock on the door.

"Katniss?" Peeta sounded worried through the door. He hadn't come to see her in a while because it seemed that she never wanted him around. She never moved at all when he was there, and he was surprised to see that she was off the couch, even more surprised to hear running water, and a little fearful to see what she was up to.

She didn't answer him, he sounded anxious, but she couldn't find the words to speak. It was like her voice was broken, or more realistically that she had secluded herself to the point where she couldn't remember to speak at all.

"Katniss?" He said again, sounding more nervous as he tested the door knob with one hand. For all he knew she was drowning herself in the tub at that very moment. He wouldn't doubt it, he had thought of doing something like that to himself once or twice.

She didn't answer again, just stood there beneath the water and washed the rest of the suds off her body. She had nothing to say, no words to speak, not even an acknowledgement that she had heard him. She thought that maybe if she didn't move or say anything, he would just go away. After all, everyone else had.

"Katniss, I'm coming in!" He said it loudly, sure that if she could hear anything at all she heard him. He opened the door quickly and walked into the bathroom finding that she was completely and totally fine, just showering, and doing so without a shower curtain. Had it been any other girl in the world, he would have felt embarrassed and left, but not with her, not with Katniss. They had been through everything together and had placed their lives in each other's hands, a little nudity was not about to scare him off. However, he did have respect for her and her privacy, so he didn't let his eyes linger or wander. He just grabbed a towel, walked over to her and shut off the water. He handed her a towel. "Why didn't you answer me? I know you heard me call your name."

Still she didn't speak. She had heard him, truth be told she had no reason not to answer him, but also had no answer to give. She wrapped the towel he had handed her around herself and continued her silence.

He grabbed her arm and was about to ask her again when he realized that she was ice cold. She had taken a cold shower, and he should have guessed as much, there was no steam in the room. He just shook his head and tugged on her arm gently to lead her out of the tub. If she was going to play the silent game, so would he, at least until he could get some kind of reaction out of her.

He didn't care what kind of reaction she had just as long as it was something, after all, she had been stone-faced and silent for weeks. He was sick of it, if he could function, so could she. He was going to save tonight if it was the last thing he did.

He led her to her bedroom and told her to get dressed. She obeyed as he left the room for the kitchen to make some tea. After all, she was freezing and heat always spread best from the inside out. He felt like he was taking care of her the same way he had as the boy with the bread, but at least this time if anyone hit him it was going to be her.

Katniss knew better than to question Peeta's motives for helping her, because she knew him and knew that they were solely good intentions, after all, he barely had an ounce of badness in him. It was probably why so many people trusted him, why she trusted him now and many times before. She hadn't cared that he had seen her naked, it wasn't the first time she had been naked in front of someone and she was certain that it wouldn't be the last, and beyond that, she didn't care that it had been Peeta. She still had feelings for him deep down, and she trusted him even more than she trusted herself. She pulled on a loosely fitting shirt and a comfortable pair of pants trying to ignore the wedding dresses that she had never removed from her closet. They were all she had left of Cinna, and were just another reminder of the somewhat normal life she could never have.

When he reentered the room, Katniss was sitting on her bed, fully dressed, and was staring at the wedding dresses in her closet. He wondered what she was thinking, but didn't voice his question. He would remain silent like her.

He simply handed her the mug of hot tea he had brought with him and began to drink his own. Being someplace other than the couch was as good a place as any to start getting her back to normal, or at the very least functional.

She sipped the tea from the mug he had handed her without question. He cared, and it was something to think about other than her sadness and the depressing thoughts that had been plaguing her mind for months. It was some kind of herbal drink that he must have found in the kitchen cupboards. She had never bothered to look in them, nor had she ever made tea. It was good enough though, and as she drank it she tried to search for something to say to him. Usually she didn't mind the silence, but at the moment the silence between them was less calm and far more expectant. She felt as though she had to say something to fill the void between them. It was an odd thing that she suddenly felt like speaking. She had been avoiding verbalization for quite some time. Words could not express the feelings she had, but maybe he understood. He always understood. He had been there when other's hadn't been.

Of course there had been visitors that had come to see her other than just him and Haymitch, but they had just come to see if she was still alive and to make sure she ate something every now and then. No one wanted her to die, but it seemed at the same time, no one wanted to spend any time around her. Why would they? After all, she was a killer and an apparent psychopath. Not exactly a charming young lady who anyone would want to spend a Saturday afternoon chatting with.

"Thanks." It was almost silent, but it was all she could muster… one almost silent single syllable word that said nothing and everything at the same time.

He nodded in recognition; he had heard her even with as soft her voice was. "Don't mention it." He responded glad that even if it was just one word, the channels of communication were actually opening up. "The Primroses are doing well…" He said referring to the flowers for which her sister had been named. He hoped that maybe she would want to go and look at them.

Unfortunately, she just nodded and said, "That's good…"

He didn't get discouraged, two words, two syllables and a nod, baby steps, but eventually they would get somewhere important. "How have you been doing lately?" He asked, honestly caring about how she had been. He had been thinking about her every day, stopping in every now in then just for a few moments or walking by her house to glance at her through the window. He had worried about her and feared the worst while hoping for the best. This was the closest thing to honest conversation he had gotten to with her in a long time. It felt good to hear her voice.

"Surviving I guess."

Surviving, that's what she always did was survive, and he knew it. He knew that conditions under which she had survived, and the fact that she used that word worried him. She could survive anything and everything, that much was true, but he wanted more than that for her, and he was pretty sure he knew of something that was going on. "Nightmares?" He asked softly in a hushed tone as if it were some kind of secret.

She looked him in the eyes for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, they were soft and caring, the kind of eyes that made even her cold heart melt. He really was the only one that truly understood her, the only one that ever could, and with that single worded question, she knew she wasn't alone. "Every time I close my eyes." She admitted knowing that it was no secret. "You too?" She asked already knowing that the answer was yes.

"The same." He said whilst cautiously reaching out his hand to touch her shoulder.

She didn't shrug him off or shift away from him, it felt nice, comforting to have him there, and she regretted pushing him away for so long. She had forgotten what his touch felt like, how it made her feel safe and like she was no longer alone. He was a god send, he had been from the very beginning, and she knew that she had hurt him; she just wished she could take it all back. "Are you afraid?" She asked not specifying what he would be afraid of, but knowing that he would understand that she meant the fear of the future and the past, what had scarred them for life and what was yet to come. Usually she was so tough and strong, but being like that was tiring, especially now being so late. It was already dark out when he had come, she hadn't asked why, and honestly she didn't care.

"Terrified." He admitted as he gingerly put his arm around her. He still loved her, even after all they had been through, he loved her in every possible way. He could still remember the train, how afraid she had been, how warm and comfortable she had been at his side. He remembered how long she had cried and how he had held her though the night. He wanted that again, without the fear or tears, he wanted to hold her in his arms as she slept. He wanted to make her happy and stop his own fears by keeping her by his side.

"The same." She said with a sad smile as she reached her arm out to wrap around him. She was so tired, physically, mentally, and emotionally. She didn't refuse when he moved slightly and pulled her into a hug. She didn't reject him, and instead wrapped her other arm around his hand and held on tightly as she pulled him down onto the bed. She had needed him all along, she hadn't seen it herself until now, but the depression she had felt had been from being without him. It seemed that it was her fault all this time for pushing him away when she should have been pulling him in as she was doing now. "I'm sorry." She said unsure of what she was sorry for, there was nothing specifically she was apologizing for, it was just an apology for everything she had done. For every wrong she had ever done towards him, for every time she could have said yes, for every day they should have been together. She was sorry.

"Don't be." He said gently, not expecting things to happen so quickly, but being happy at the same time for the way things were going. It seemed that he had gotten his wish already. He was lying in her bed with her in his arms, and he had no intention of letting go anytime soon. It was late, time for sleep. He had actually been on a walk when he decided to stop in; he hadn't been able to sleep from the nightmares and had decided to walk about for a while. He saw now that doing so was an excellent idea, as it seemed they were both about to sleep, and sleep extremely well at that.

"Stay?" She asked trying not to beg, though that's what she felt like doing. She may be Katniss Everdeen the Mocking Jay, but she was still a very scared and lonely girl who needed to be with the guy she loved more than anything.

"I don't think I could leave, not even if I wanted to." He said into her hair as he held her tightly. Things were beginning to feel intimate, like the way it used to be. As it seemed, they could do anything to him, but nothing could take him away from Katniss, not anymore, and not ever again.