“Katniss?" He drops my hand and I take a step, as if to catch my balance."It was all for the Games," Peeta says. "How you acted.""Not all of it," I say, tightly holding onto my flowers."Then how much? No, forget that. I guess the real question is what's going to be left when we get home?" he says."I don't know. The closer we get to District Twelve, the more confused I get," I say. He waits, for further explanation, but none's forthcoming."Well, let me know when you work it out," he says, and the pain in his voice is palpable.”

“I don't want you forgetting how different our circumstaces are. If you die, and I live, there's no life for me at all back in District Twelve. You're my whole life." Peeta says. "I would never be happy again. It's different for you. I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard. But there are other people who'd make your life worth living." "No one really needs me," he says, and there's no selfpity in his voice. It's true his family doesn't need him. They will mourn him, as will a handfull of friends. But they will get on.... I realise only one person will be damaged beyond repair if Peeta dies. Me."I do," I say. "I need you.”

“I know what blood poisoning is, Katniss," says Peeta. "Even if my mother isn't a healer."I'm jolted back in time, to another wound, another set of bandages. "You said that same thing to me in the first Hunger Games. Real or not real?""Real," he says. "And you risked your life getting the medicine that saved me?""Real." I shrug. "You were the reason I was alive to do it.”

“Katniss," Gale says softly.I recognize that voice. It's the same one he uses to approach wounded animals before he delivers a deathblow. I Instinctively raise my hand to block his words but he catches it and holds on tightly.Don't," I whisper.But Gale is not one to keep secrets from me.Katniss, There is no District Twelve.”

“Then you shoot me,' I say furiously, shoving the weapons back at him. 'You shoot me and go home and live with it!' And as I say it, I know death right here, right now would be the easier of the two'You know I can't,' Peeta says, discarding the weapons. 'Fine, I'll go first anyways.' He leans down and rips the bandage off his leg, eliminating the final barrier between his blood and the earth.'No, you can't kill yourself,' I say. I'm on my knees desperately plastering the bandage back onto his wound.'Katniss,' he says. 'It's what I want.''You're not leaving me here alone,' I say. Because if he dies, I'll never go home, not really. I'll spend the rest of my life in this arena trying to think my way out.”

“Peeta, how come I never know when you're having a nightmare?” I say.“I don't know. I don't think I cry out or thrash around or anything. I just come to, paralyzed with terror,” he says.“You should wake me,” I say, thinking about how I can interrupt his sleep two or three times on a bad night. About how long it can take to calm me down.“It's not necessary. My nightmares are usually about losing you,” he says. “I'm okay once I realize you're here.”