AN: I love Everlark AU's, thought I'd give it a try. Pardon any mistakes, but let me know if you find any so I can fix them.

Still not Suzanne Collins.

Italics = Flashback

Read and tell me your thoughts.

I thought if I could touch this place or feel it
this brokenness inside me might start healing.

"Katniss, are you absolutely sure you want to stop by?" says my manager.

"Effie, I told you I'm fine, I just want a quick look."

"Well, we don't even know who lives there now, they might not let you come in."

"I know, I just want to see it for a bit."

She nods but I can see she's concerned, and I understand why. She's worried I'll be flooded with memories and have another breakdown.

"Sweetheart, open the door" I hear Haymitch's voice through the door.
I don't reply, I just sit in the corner, crying as I stare at their picture.
"I know what day it is, but you got a sold out crowd, sweetheart. Why don't you channel all those feelings into your music?" he says.
I pick up my phone and scroll through the names and I feel so alone.
I stop on a name I haven't spoken in years and I wonder if I called him up he would answer, he would let me cry into the phone and listen to what I have to say.
I wave those thoughts out of my head. Chances are his number isn't the same anyway.
I hear a soft knock. Haymitch must've given up.
"Katniss, it's okay if you can't go on…"
"Just give me a minute…" I say as I stand up and set the picture down. I wipe the tears from my eyes and touch up my make up to hide the redness in my face.
When I look back in the mirror I'm the person everyone is expecting on the stage. Clear eyes, wide smile. The show must always go on.

After driving for a while we pull up to the small house. It looks mostly unchanged except for a new coat of paint and some renovations to the porch.

I move to get out of the car but Effie grabs my arm.

"Katniss…"

"I'll be fine, I promise." I say.

"We have a schedule, please don't make us late" she says.

The fence is new, there are a couple small trees that weren't there before, and from the toys that sit abandoned in the front yard, I can tell there's a family living here.

Walking up to the steps I can see the heat has made the latest layer of paint bubble up and it has begun to peel. A set of blue handprints is peeking from under the white paint.

When I knock on the door a woman answers, she can't be much older than me.

Her eyes light up, she recognizes me.

"Oh my Jesus! Am I on one of those surprise shows!" she says excitedly.

"No, ma'am, I'm afraid not. I'm…"

"You're Katniss Everdeen, the famous singer." She says. Her smile still spread across her face.

"I was wondering if maybe I could just walk around the house for a bit."

She has a look of confusion on her face. It must be strange, to have a stranger ask to walk around your home.
"Oh, Miss Everdeen, you don't want to do that. The house is a mess." She says.

I shake my head.

"This used to be my home…" I whisper.

Realization seeps into her eyes and she nods.

"Wow, ma'am I didn't know. Of course you can have a look around."

"I swear I'll just be a few minutes."

"I'll just be through here in the living room. Holler if you need me"

I walk through towards the bedrooms, and I'm grateful for this woman who is letting a complete stranger walk through her house. I make it to the back bedroom. The room I used to share with her.

"Katniss, Daddy said we could paint our room!" her voice echoes in my memory.
"Alright, little duck, what color should we paint it?"
"Green!" she says.
I smile knowing she's picked my favorite color to please me.
"Nah, it's all right. What color do you want?"
She hesitates a bit before she whispers "pink," and I struggle to keep a straight face. I hate the color pink.
"Pink it is." And the smile that materializes upon her face makes me forget my disdain for the color.

The walls are still pink, though they have been painted over with murals of childish drawings over each bed. Two girls share this room still.

The windows are open letting a breeze through and the matching pink curtains undulate in the wind.

It's late on a weeknight; the soft glow of my bedside lamp illuminates my copy of A Tale of Two Cities. I'm struggling to keep my eyes open when soft knock on the windows startles me. I quickly look over to Prim's bed to make sure she's still asleep before opening the window quietly.
"You scared the bejesus out of me." I say.
"Are you finished with the book?" he whispers as he dives from the room onto my bed making it rattle a bit.
"You need to learn to be quiet when you do that." I say smacking his shoulder.
"No I haven't finished the book." I add.
"Oh, well I did. It was great." He says with a smile.
"Only you would think this hideously boring piece of literature is good." I say mocking him.
We hear steps down the hall and he quickly hides under the bed.
I grab my book and pretend to be reading it before my father's head peeks from behind the door.
"Goodnight, Kitten" he whispers.
"Night dad." I say.
"Don't stay up too much longer." He says
"I won't, just finishing this chapter."
"Alright. And…go home, Peeta." He says before closing the door.
Peeta peeks his head out from under my bed.
"Okay, how did he know…?"
"I don't know. Probably because you douse yourself with body spray, he can probably smell you from a mile away." I say earning an icy look from his blue eyes.

I make my way across the hall to the room that used to belong to my parents. Everything is different; my eyes fill with tears and I feel stupid because of course things are different, this is no longer my home.

"Dad, Can I open my eyes now?"
"Almost there…" I hear his voice as he leads me through the house.
"Okay, open 'em up" he says and we are standing in his room and he is handing me his guitar.
"Happy birthday, kitten" he says.
"Oh, dad, I can't…"
"I want you to have it, baby. You have a gift with music. You deserve it."
I take it in my hands while carefully admiring the shiny wood. My eyes fill with tears; this is my father's guitar, his most prized possession.
"I'll take good care of it for your, daddy."
"I know, Katniss." He says placing a kiss on my forehead.

I'm on the verge of tears but take a deep breath and swallow them back. I don't want to find myself crying in this woman's house.

"You still doing alright, miss?" she looks up from her book as I walk past the living room.

"Yes, ma'am. Could I…maybe take a look at your backyard?"

"Of course. Right through the—well I'm sure you know the way." She says giving me a warm smile.

"Thank you."

This woman has a beautiful garden full of flowers and little trinkets I imagine her daughters made her, but the thing that grabs my attention is the large oak that sits in the corner. It still stands tall, proud, strong, just as I remember it. I run my hands over the rough bark of the tree and when I walk around it I notice the small words carved on it. Here lies Lady, the best goat ever. I run my hands over the tiny carving recalling the day Peeta carved them there.

Tears keep rolling down Prims face.
"I don't want to forget her, Katniss." She says sobbing.
"Aww, you won't little duck. You won't" I tell her wiping her tears away with my thumbs.
"What if I do?"
"You won't" says Peeta; pulling the tiny knife he carries around with him from his pocket.
"Peeta, what are you doing?" I ask rolling my eyes at him.
"This oak, it can be a sort of head stone for Lady." He says as he begins to carve words onto the tree trunk.
"Here lies Lady..." he looks to Prim for suggestions.
She nods and adds, "The best goat ever."
I giggle a bit, but put on a serious face quickly.
"Here lies lady, the best goat ever." Repeats Peeta as he continues carving words into the wood.

I don't notice that I've begun sobbing until I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn around quickly to stare into the woman's bright green eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was just bringing you out some lemonade, it's gettin' hot out. You sure you're okay ma'am?" she says, concern filling her eyes.

"Yes, I'm sorry. I was just remembering…" I trail off.

"I can't believe you're leaving for LA tomorrow." He says as he lets himself fall backwards and onto my bed.
"Peeta, I let you come over because you said you would help." I say giving him a cold look as I continue to place things in boxes.
"But packing is so boring" he says closing his eyes.
"My dad and Prim will be here soon and we'll have to start loading things onto my truck."
"Cool, I'll help with that."
"We can't load stuff onto the truck if it's not packed, Peeta. Come on, get up and help me." I say stretching my hand out to help him get up.
He takes my hand but as I go to pull him up he pulls me down towards him and I don't have time to think, to breathe, before his lips are on mine.
This is the first time we've ever kissed and it's not like the thought hasn't crossed my mind, but this is Peeta, and I don't know if I like how it feels.
"Peeta, what are you doing?" I ask pushing him away lightly
"I love you, Katniss. I love you and I don't want you to go." He whispers.
"Peeta…"
"No, just don't say anything. I know you don't feel the same way. I know you have to go. I just, I had to know what your lips felt like." He says closing his eyes.
I nod and let him kiss me again, and I kiss him back, and after a while when we break apart I start to wonder if maybe I do feel the same way. But I brush those thoughts aside quickly because if I ponder on them, it might hurt me even more to have to leave him behind.

"I read about you before. My girls love you. They buy every magazine you're on and well, I read them."

I nod taking a sip of lemonade from the glass she hands me. It's hard to run into someone who doesn't know my life story. Effie and Haymitch have made sure people know about the tragedy that befell me. About the girl whose life was a struggle, but she still rose from the ashes, and here she is, making records, on the cover of magazines.

"I'm sorry about your dad and sister, miss."

"It's been years, but it feels like it was yesterday." I say as the tears threaten to spill over again.

After two years of living in LA and four different record companies, I think maybe Mockingjay Records will finally be it. Maybe they will give me the big break I need, the break that will prove that I didn't leave everything behind in vain. I look at the calendar on the wall, April 17th. I smile and pull out my phone and look for Peeta Mellarks name.
The phone rings a few times until his voicemail greeting begins.
"Hey, this is Peeta's cell. Leave a message." Hearing his voice makes me homesick and I feel my eyes starting to prickle with tears.
I swallow hard before I speak.
"Hi. Happy Birthday. I miss you."
I haven't spoken to him in months. The tears rolling down my cheeks remind me it's because I kept finding it harder and harder to speak to him, to hear his voice, and not miss him, not miss home.
It's for the best, I hope he's doing fine, I think to myself. But in the back of my mind, I hope he misses me as well.
The phone rings breaking me out of my reverie and the voice on the other end whispers the words that will change my world forever.

The funeral is on a cloudy day, and it seems fitting because after the last few days, I don't think I can ever face a sunny day without thinking of my sister's hair, of the glint in my father's eyes. The flight home is a nightmare, my mother won't look at me, she won't talk to me; she just cries silent tears while staring off into space. I haven't cried yet, and I don't know that I will. I watch as my father and sister are lowered into the ground and I feel as if my heart is buried with them. I feel as if I might collapse when a warm hand takes mine and I look up to meet a pair of bright blue eyes. He doesn't let go of my hand for the rest of the day.
I can't bear to look at Prim's empty bed, or have my mother look through me as if I'm not even there so I don't go home that night. Instead, I find myself in Peeta's room, lying in bed with him as he holds me tightly in his arms.

He whispers words of reassurance in my ear and when I turn to face him and look into his deep blue eyes I decide I want to forget and I press my lips to his because this is the only thing that will help me forget.
Our kissing becomes more and more desperate and eventually I decide kissing him is not enough, so when my hands venture to the bottom of his shirt he pushes me away softly.
"Katniss, I don't think we should be doing this."
"Please…I need to forget…" I whisper pulling his lips back to mine.
"Katniss…" he begins but he must see the look of desperation in my eyes because he pulls his shirt over his head and throws it on the ground.
With each piece of clothing we shed, I feel the grief slipping away. Each kiss ignites a fire within me and burns away the sadness that has been accumulating inside me for the past few days.

Peeta hesitates before taking the last step, before crossing the point of no return and I nod, reassuring him that this is what I want.
I feel a sharp pain as he enters me, but I bite my lip to keep from making noise. He moves slowly over me, his eyes locked on mine, waiting for me to tell him to stop, but I don't. He eventually finds his rhythm and when my body adjusts to him, the pain leaves me and something else takes over. He whispers that he loves me and I want to say something back but he silences me with his lips as if to let me know that he doesn't need me to say anything back. A wave of ecstasy that begins at my core and spreads throughout my body succeeds in making me forget. Every thought I'd been thinking is expelled from my mind and all I see are his beautiful blue eyes, and all I feel is the heat radiating from his skin to mine. And looking at him as he collapses on top of me I know that I do love him, that I've always loved him. But it doesn't matter because I can't stay in this place and not think of my father and my sister. I'm going back to LA and I don't plan on ever coming back.

I finally cry in his arms that night and when the sun comes up I get dressed and sit at his desk watching him sleep for a while; I place a kiss on his forehead and whisper four words in his ear.
"I love you too."
And that is the last time I see him.

I find myself in this woman's arms, and she's comforting me. This woman who is no more than a few years older than me, holding me like a mother would hold her child.

"Come inside, sweetie. Let's get out of this heat." She says.

"I really should be going." I say once I've calmed down.

"You sure you don't want a piece of peach pie?"

"I'm fine really. I've already taken up a lot of your time. Surely my manager is upset with me by now. I'm messing up her schedule." I say smiling.

"Alright, well. Feel free to stop by again. And I really must apologize for the mess."

"Your house is beautiful. Don't be ashamed." I tell her.

I take her information before I leave, promising to have Effie send some thing for her girls as soon as we can. As I make my way back to the car I pull out my phone and dial a phone number I'm surprised I remember after all these years. The phone rings and I know it's a long shot, but I'm still disappointed when I hear a voice I don't know pick up.

"Katniss, Are you alright?" Effie asks before I get in the car.

"Yes, but I need to make one more stop."

"Katniss, you have a show tomorrow…we can't make more stops."

"I have to. I'm sorry. Give them refunds, or postpone it, do whatever you need to."

"Where to, miss?" The driver asks and I give him the address. The car pulls up to the storefront and I'm surprised to see the words Mellark's Bakery still there. The bakery is dark. It's Monday; they never opened on Mondays.

"Katniss, really? Bread? Looks like this place is closed. Come on we can stop somewhere else." Effie asks.

"Effie, I'm not here for the bread." I say opening the door and stepping out of the car.

I look through the front door. A light is visible is the back. He's here; he's got to be here. I walk around the back until I'm face to face with the white metal door I used to sneak out of when I was a child. I knock a couple of times but there is no response so I knock again, determined to see him today.

I hear movement inside and the door finally swings open.
"It's Monday, we're—" The color drains from his face when his blue eyes meet my gray ones

"It's a special order." I say quietly.

"Katniss…" The mere sound of his voice whispering my name sends chills up and down my spine.

We stand in silence until he finally opens the door and motions for me to come in. I look around and notice everything is virtually unchanged save for a couple new pieces of equipment.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asks as he washes his hands.

"I was just…passing by." I tell him.

I hear steps and turn in time to see a young woman stepping in the kitchen.
"Peeta, everything all right?" she asks without acknowledging my presence.

"Yeah, Millie, go home. I'll close things up today." He says and her eyes widen.
"I haven't finished the cupcakes for Madge's class tomorrow though." She says in protest.

"I'll take care of them, just go. I'll see you later, okay?" she nods and proceeds to wash her hands and hang her apron before walking out the door.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you weren't…alone." I say staring at the floor.

"Millie, is just one of my employees if that's what you're trying to insinuate." He says bluntly and I can't help but blush.

"Oh, no, that's not—you don't owe me any explanations." I say.

"I know. And you don't owe me any either…but I'd still like one." He says harshly and I find I can't blame him for being mad.

"Peeta, I'm sorry. "

"Yeah, I thought you'd say that."

"I just, I had to get away from this place. I thought if I left and never came back, the emptiness I felt would go away."

"So you thought you'd sleep with me and break my heart by leaving without a word, without a goodbye?"

"Peeta, you knew what that was. You knew the state I was in."

"Yeah you're right. I knew it was just to help you forget your pain for a little while, Katniss. But what I didn't know was that that'd be the last time I saw you, the last time I spoke to you." He says.

"I'm sorry."

"I loved you. I did. And I spent months hoping I would get a call from you. Hoping you'd show up at my door. I finally started to let go of those ridiculous ideas and then your album came out and your face and your voice were everywhere." He says with more pain in his voice than I'd expected to hear.

"I shouldn't have come. I'm sorry." I say getting up to leave.

"What are you doing here, Katniss. Why, after seven years of not setting foot in this town, did you all of the sudden show up here?" He asks lifting his eyes to meet mine.

"I don't know. I just—it's been a long year. I thought maybe if I went home…to my old home, something would click. I thought maybe I would finally let their memory go, and I could start healing." I say fighting hard not to cry.

"Well…?" he asks lifting an eyebrow at me.

I shake my head.

"I could have helped you heal." He says, the sadness seeping out through his voice.

"I know. And you don't know how much I've thought about it. How much I've thought about you…" I trail off embarrassed. I have no right to be saying this to him. It's been seven years since I've seen him; surely he has begun to make a life for himself.

"I'm sorry, you don't need to hear that, I'm—"

"Stop saying you're sorry." He says.

"I can't, because I am sorry. I'm so sorry I was selfish, I'm sorry I left the way I did. I'm sorry you weren't awake when I told you I loved you too."

His eyes widen at my confession, but he remains speechless.

"I know I'm out of line saying this. I know it's been seven years and you've probably moved on. But almost every song on each of my albums is about you." I say as the tears I'd been holding back finally spill over.

"I've never regretted that night. I only regret the way I left." I whisper. And before I can take a breath he crosses the room and his lips crash against mine. I've kissed many men but none have managed to make me feel the way he does. His hands are everywhere, and every touch feeds the blazing fire he's ignited within me.

"Not a day goes by that I don't think of you." He says wiping away my tears.

"I love you." I tell him.

"I love you, too." He whispers back.

I tell Effie to cancel any further appearances I may have scheduled. Her face becomes pale white and I promise to make it up to her.

"Katniss, we can't. The label will not be happy with you."

"Tell them I need time to myself." I tell her before stepping out of the car again.

"It's that man you always write about, isn't it?" she asks.

I nod.

"You found him?"

"He wasn't the one who was lost, Effie."

I watch Peeta decorate cup cakes for the rest of the evening and that night, when I'm wrapped in his arms I think about how this would have happened anyway. About how any road I could have taken would have led me back to him.