The Reason

Chapter Eleven

A/N: I am so sorry that it has taken this long. Life has changed immensely over the past few years and I haven't had much spare time. Returning has actually been a little surreal. Words have been harder to find (so updates may be a little sporadic) and fresh eyes have noticed a few errors that I will go back and fix one of these days. Thanks for putting up with them!

Also, a huge thank you to each and every one of you who reviewed, favourited and followed in my absence, I really hope you enjoy this chapter.

And finally thanks to SalanderJade for her feedback once again :)

16:02 Monday - One Police Plaza NYC

Peeta's warm hand holds mine reassuringly as we sit silently in Mason's Audi. The car is coasting, the city traffic barely moving as crowds of people join the queues attempting to make their way home from work. I can tell the lack of movement is bothering Mason. She is gripping the steering wheel tightly and glaring at the traffic around her. I groan inwardly. The last thing I need right now is for her to be further agitated. Not while she is directing her anger at me.

I rub my throbbing cheek as her pointed soul destroying rampage echoes in my mind.

"What the actual fuck!" she exclaims as her hand hits my cheek hard. I stagger back, too surprised by the burning pain to say anything in my defence. "You know when Abernathy ordered me and your precious Doctor to look here I argued with him. I thought you were a smart enough human being to know that, since this morning, the whole city thinks you're fucking him" she snarls, tipping her head towards Peeta. "And you weren't that much of an idiot that you would come to a place where someone might be watching! But you're here... YOU. . HERE! So now I'm trying to work out whether you are actually brainless or if you you have some sort of death wish. And if it is the latter - let me know before I invest too much…"

I have to swallow to hold back a wave of tears. The honest tirade cut deep and I can't fight away the all-consuming guilt. Her words reminded me why I've spent most of my life pushing people away.

My gaze wanders to the hand that has tightened around mine and I know it's owner senses my inner turmoil. Damn him. Damn him for needling his way into my heart, and for apparently leaving the door open for others to do the same. I swallow again, desperate not to cry when I realise that my stupid mental list of reasons was a list of people that could be used to break me.

"Are you alright?" Peeta asks gently.

"Yes," I snap and direct my gaze out the window. I realise he is just being his wonderful kind self but right at this moment I do not want him to care, nor do I want the attentions of the car's driver drawn back to me. Again his hand tightens around mine and I blink in surprise when I realise what he is saying. Somehow he knows that I'm going to try to push him away, and he's not going to let me.

I feel trapped. Again forced to do something about my feelings. I sigh inwardly knowing that I am too far gone to suddenly back out of the relationships I have been building. I frown, realising it meant that even if I was successful in pushing them all away, my enemies could still use them to break me.

"Maybe I should go hide away with the marshals, " I mutter under my breath. Peeta squeezes my hand gently and I look up to meet his eyes. They are filled with sympathy and I am suddenly aware that he already knows what I've only just figured out. All of the people who mean something to me are, one way or another, tied up in a dangerous game.

"I think it might be too late for that" he whispers.

I nod. Me too.

All of a sudden the car comes to a halt. The change makes me start and I begin to scan the new surroundings searching for danger. Instead I find myself looking at the police headquarters, 1PP. I sigh as I wonder whether my odds of survival are better here in the car. I'm almost certain that Abernathy is going to kill me.

"We're here" Mason states. Her tone is still thick with anger so I nod in reply, too scared to actually speak. We are met in the entrance by Boggs who looks at us solemnly. It is instantly clear that something had changed for the worst. I close my eyes and pray that whatever happened didn't mean more small mangled bodies.

"We need to avoid the…" he starts but trails off as we are suddenly surrounded by members of the press. Questions come from all angles and I feel anxiety rising in my chest. I move closer to Peeta who, along with Mason and Boggs, create a barrier around me. Unfortunately it didn't stop the questions.

"Detective Everdeen, is it true that you were working undercover for the FBI at the Safe and Sound Ball?"

"Detective, will you confirm claims that it was not a NYPD gun that you had on you at the ball?"

"Detective Everdeen is it true that you had handed in your badge and gun after shooting a minor not two days prior to the safe and sound hostage situation?"

"Detective, detective! Our sources claim that you were under instructions not to engage with the children at the ball. Can you confirm or deny this?"

The barrage of questions are coming so fast I don't have time to think up any answers. I struggle not to panic and have to fight away the sudden urge to run. If I'm honest, I probably would have, if I wasn't so afraid of what Mason would do to me if I did.

"Detective Everdeen, can you confirm for us whether you and the FBI used Doctor Mellark in order to get you into the ball?" said one of the reporters.

My head snapped around to find the owner of the voice. It was one of the reporters who had been at the press conference the day before. I consider slapping her, but again, Mason comes to mind. Instead I just glare and the word come out before I can stop it.

"No!" I yell loudly. The crowd goes silent, all patiently waiting to see what I say next. I swallow and force myself to think. Clearly a few finer details had been leaked during my absence which is undoubtedly going to lead to everything being tied up in court. Meanwhile the Hunger Games carry on with less interruptions. With less cops. I frown, feeling outplayed. If I hadn't spent all my time selfishly sorting through my problems then I might have seen this coming. Maybe Mason is right, maybe I am brainless.

"As you were told yesterday there was no undercover operation, I was simply on a date with, with the man I, love" I say. I feel heat rise in my cheeks and a couple of the reporters actually sigh. "If I'd known what was going to happen I wouldn't have gone."

"Where did you get the gun? Sources say it was unregistered..." A man from deep within the crowd asked. I swallow, unsure of how to answer this one. I really shouldn't have had a weapon.

"It was my weapon." a voice next to me states matter-of-factly.

Everyone in the room is now staring at Peeta as their brains catch up with what they just heard. He shrugs at them all nonchalantly.

"I was concerned for my date's welfare. She was not allowed to carry her gun, or participate in police work for that matter, but I knew there was a bounty on her head. I thought I could protect her with it, but when it came down to the wire I decided it was better in her hands. I've only ever pointed it at a target on a wall after all." He lies, beautifully. His quick thinking has possibly just saved the case. And my butt. And possibly Abernathy's, Mason's and Paylor's too.

The silence is deafening. The reporters clearly hadn't expected such a simple explanation. Neither had Boggs who looks as though could kiss the handsome doctor.

"Doctor Mellark, do you think it was wise to carry a gun into such an event?"

"Are you questioning my right to be armed?" Peeta asked.

My mouth dropped open. Oh he really is good at this. The reporter shakes her head vigorously and backs away into the crowd. Most of the media have some sort of backing from gun lobby groups, so I guess that will be the end of the questions about the gun.

"Doctor Mellark, at the Press Conference last week Miss Everdeen that you began dating last week, can you confirm or deny this?"

Peeta glances at me and I shrug. I have no idea why that would be of interest. He turns to the reporter who had spoken and nods.

"Yes, that's right." he answers honestly.

"You are very trusting, and protective, of a woman you just started dating. She says she loves you, is that reciprocated." I set my jaw as I look at the determined face of the woman journalist who had spoken earlier. I get this overwhelming feeling in my stomach that she knows that our date was a cover story.

"Yes," he says with a smile. I blush again and our eyes meet briefly before he turns back to the woman and continues. "You're assuming that we met a week ago."

The crowd of reporters buzz with newfound energy and I am suddenly acutely aware that now that they had met him, and seen that he is the perfect hero for any story, our relationship was suddenly very interesting. More than that, it would potentially sell newspapers. I groan inwardly, this can only end badly.

Thankfully it's at that moment that Paylor comes to our rescue. The woman is clearly furious and shouts at the reporters for their misconduct (apparently there are rules around this sort of thing) and drag the four of us up to Abernathy's office muttering about rogue detectives, and starry-eyed doctors.

On the way I nudge Peeta with my elbow. "How long have you had a gun?"

"Since the world went crazy," he whispers.

I gape at him and he laughs. "I've never bought any bullets though," he adds. His eyes sparkle with humour and I smile feeling oddly relieved. The image of Peeta with a gun doesn't sit well with me. I shake my head, willing it away. There are more urgent things to worry about.

The chief doesn't say a word when I walk in. He doesn't really have to, I can see the rage burning in his eyes and the disappointment is written all over his face. I cringe as guilt swells in my chest. I really need to pull myself together before these people, who have somehow cemented their place in my heart, give up on me.

"Sorry" I mumble. My gaze drops to the fraying blue carpet on the office floor as the guilt turns to shame. It's ridiculous that I can stand my ground when looking down the barrel of a murderer's gun but at the first mention of what might be going on in my head and heart I run for the hills with no thoughts of self preservation, or the consequences.

I half listen as Boggs runs through what happened downstairs. He is so animated when he recounts how Peeta explained away the problem gun. Paylor and Abernathy look at Peeta like he's too good to be true and I feel torn between being jealous and being thankful. I am exceptionally lucky to have him watching over me. I blink out of my thoughts when I realise that Boggs is now pointing at me.

"And then, like they had planned it all out, she directs the questioning towards their relationship, and he checkmates by giving them something to look for. I reckon it will be a couple of days before we have the full media force on our doorstep. At least half will be busy selling their papers with love stories." He says.

Abernathy is looking at me warily. He knows that I did not, under any circumstance, plan to do what I've apparently done. I do not want people looking into my relationship, or my life. This damned case!

"Well done," Paylor says coolly. I cringe again remembering Peeta's words - "Abernathy and Paylor are not… coping". Apparently my accidental redirection was not quite enough to make up for running out earlier.

"I won't believe it until it until my phone stops fucking ringing," Abernathy snarls, pointing at his mobile which, as if on cue, begins vibrating on the desk. "Fuck me!" he exclaims. He picks it up, throws it in his desk drawer and slams it close. "You-" he starts, pointing at me, "Have a psych to finish in the meeting room..." I nod, silently groaning. "After which you will stay there because we have a case update scheduled, of course that is assuming you pass your assessment." He looks a little doubtful. I can hardly blame him, it's going to take a miracle to convince Aurelius that I am fit to do my job, considering my actions.

"You-" he snaps pointing at Peeta, "will be escorted back to the hotel by Mason, where you will stay, under the protection of our officers, because god forbid you go and get yourself killed. We clearly need someone to keep saving our arses…"

"And you-" He points at Mason now, "once you've handed him over to Jackson you get back here"

Peeta nods. "I need to make a few calls first," he says apologetically. He is wise enough to know that right now is not a good time to argue with Abernathy. I kind of hope he will later though.

Mason looks unimpressed at the thought of getting back in the car but accepts the instruction anyway. Like Peeta she seems to sense that it's not worth debating.

Abernathy just nods then looks around the room, his gaze eventually settling on me. "See the rest of you at twenty-one hundred hours,". The unsaid words are as clear as day… 'you better be there'.

1830 Monday: 1 Police Plaza NY

I open the board room door to find Dr Aurelius sitting at the large table, an array of papers and folders spread out in front of him. He glances up, and nods towards the chair opposite him then continues writing. I sit on the edge of the seat, placing my hands on the table and take a deep breath. It's time to grow up Katniss.

"I'm sorry," I say, and I mean it.

He sighs, puts the pen he is writing with carefully on the table and meets my gaze. "Why?" he asks looking particularly tired.

"Because leaving was rude, and stupid…" I reply.

He looks at me pensively. "Why did you leave?"

I take in a deep breath and then let the words tumble out. "Because everything you said, was right. And I already knew it because I've been told it over and over - I just haven't been listening. I've been ignoring the risk of losing Peeta because I have been so overconfident in my ability to protect him. But in reality he's been protecting me while I've been selfishly trying to sort out the mess I'm in. And, and…" I have to take another breath. Tears are streaming down my face. "It gets worse. This week, I don't know, I sort of woke up. Reuniting with Peeta, it dragged me out of some half-life I was living and I've opened myself up to people that I wouldn't have even…" I shake my head and wipe my tears on the back of my sleeve "and almost all of them are somehow tied up in the case too. And when you made all those suggestions I suddenly understood that there is no way I can protect them all, and that I would not cope very well if I lost any of them."

Doctor Aurelius leaned back into his chair. He looked almost defeated, like what I said was not quite on par with his expectations.

"And the reasons…?" He prompts.

I close my eyes and take another breath in. "When I was a kid, a department counsellor told me that I should make a list of all the things I was grateful for. I didn't quite understand so I twisted it to be a list of reasons to survive. For a long time the only thing on it was my sister." My eyes reopen to find the doctor regarding me with sympathy. I shake my head because I don't want it.

"But when I found Peeta again, it became a list of reasons to actually live my life. Just looking at him I realised I was so lucky to have fallen on my feet. I needed so much help to get where I am. If it was not for Abernathy I have no doubt would be working on the other side of the law. If it weren't for Gale I would never have made it through the academy. If it weren't for Prim I'm not sure I would have left bed at all. But Peeta… he went and did it all on his own. He dragged himself out of a similar hell untainted by it, and actually loves the life he lives. And by some unexplainable miracle, he wants me to be a part of it."

"You've known Peeta for a long time then?" he asks gently.

I nod. "We went to school together. He was another person on the list of those who helped." I say quietly. I pause for a moment and wonder if owning up to almost volunteering for a previous hunger games was a good idea. Even if the man was bound by his patient - doctor confidentiality clause, I really don't want it to bite me in the arse later on. "Prim and I were starving… and he gave us bread. He worked at his parent's bakery. His mother was a witch woman. I have no doubt he got a flogging for it, but it saved us."

"You don't have to say… but who else? Who else is on your list?"

"Mason - stupid woman, Rory - I want to see him marry my sister one day, Paylor - she's amazing and I'd like to be like her, Finnick- but only because he's such good friends with Peeta, and… even my mother..." I swallow. I need to visit her, I need to make some sort of amends.

"Is there anything on your list that isn't human?" he asks looking slightly exasperated.

I laugh despite my tears, "Cheese buns, lamb stew, a painting and a black Audi…" I reply.

He looks at me for a long time before he speaks again. "At the safe and sound ball, when the children were threatening you, were you worried about Peeta?"

I blink, stunned as the answer rolls off my lips. "Not really"

He doesn't look as surprised as I feel which is quite unnerving. It seems he has figured me out before I have.

"Why not?" He questions, even though he seems to know my answer.

"I guess, because I trust him." I say after a moment. My mind is reeling as I run through the events of that night. It occurs to me that even though I was in the limelight it had been Peeta who was calling the shots. We had agreed that I needed to show myself, he decided on our escape route, and he had even had the wherewithal to save me.

"Yet you threw yourself at Johanna Mason?"

"I must not… I don't trust her yet" I respond.

The old doctor nods then looks at his watch and frowns. He runs a shaky hand through his hair and then begins moving and shuffling through the paperwork in front of him. I can almost see him thinking as he carefully organises the piles of work. I don't think he's entirely sure what to do with me.

"You said you wouldn't cope well, if you lost them. When you father died… it took years for your family to heal… you especially."

I nod. I decide not to tell him that I only just stopped sleeping on the couch.

"But you coped… you survived… yes you needed help… but you and your sister are still here, Not only that, your sister is thriving, and you are finally healing."

I want to argue but I can't. He is right.

"I have one more question Katniss, and then I plan to go home," he says honestly. "The fact that Paylor and Abernathy dragged me here to finish this assessment, rather than just letting me write you off as unfit for work, suggests to me that they not only care about you, they need you on this case, but that is not going to affect my decision as much as your answer to this hypothetical question. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I reply, both surprised by the warning and terrified of the incoming question.

"If a situation arose where you found that one of these reasons were negatively involved in the case, if one of them had a hand in what was happening… could you bring yourself to do your job?"

Horror, that's the word for what I'm feeling. Bile rises in my throat at the very idea of one of the people I care about assisting the game makers, or even... I sigh, stopping the train of thought with a small shake of my head. There's no point in thinking about how horrid that scenario would be because I already know the answer.

"Yes," I state firmly.

The head doctor nods one last time then pulls some papers out of a file labeled with my name. "You are fit to work Katniss," he starts as he signs the documents in front of him, "but I want to see you again after the case is finished." He pauses and meets my eye, "And, in the meantime, be careful."

"I will be," I reply, surprised again to receive a warning. My brow furrows as I watch the man pack away his paperwork into a black briefcase that had been sitting on the chair next to him. He stifles a yawn as he stands to leave and I note that he looks a lot older than he had in his offices on fifth street. That's when a terrible thought crosses my mind. One that I cannot possibly unthink.

"You'be lived this before," I guess. My tone is gentle but my silver gaze is unforgiving.

"Yes," he replies, in barely a whisper. He glances around, looking frightened.

I close my eyes, and battle with the overwhelming feeling of dread. Whoever he talked to last time, and I already think I know who, told him something that haunts him to this day. My mind is racing with questions but I have to ignore them. The look on his face is practically begging me not to ask him, not to involve him in the case any further. I frown but nod in acceptance.

"Good Night Doctor, thank you," I say honestly.

"Good bye Detective, do try to keep out of trouble." He replies then takes his leave.

It isn't until he is long gone that it occurs to me that his hypothetical question, the one which carried so much weight, was the only warning he wanted me to hear. Trust noone.

2055 Monday - One Police Plaza NY

"I told you not to leave the boardroom," Abernathy growls as I enter his office.

I scowl and slam the paperwork on his desk, "I want my badge and gun," I retort, "then I will return to my room."

The man glances at the paper and looks up at me in honest surprise. "I'm impressed," he mutters "I didn't think you had it in you."

"I'm terrified of Mason," I admit.

"Ha!" he exclaims before he turns and retrieves my belongings from a filing cabinet behind his desk. He hands them to me. "You needed some sense slapped into you."

I sigh and look at the man who has long been my friend and mentor. "Sorry Haymitch," I say, feeling the guilt return.

He shakes his head, "I'm the one who's sorry. I should have pulled you off this case before you got in so deep. I said I would and I didn't. I just hope my stupid mistake doesn't get you killed."

Shocked, I open my mouth to argue but the door opens before I get a chance. I turn to find Gale standing in front of me, two coffees in his hands. He holds them out to me and Abernathy. "It's starting," he says.

I take the offered coffee thankfully but Abernathy shakes his head.

"You'd better take that for Mason," he laughs as he strides out of the room.

I scowl when Gale starts laughing. "I heard there was some sort of catfight…" he prompts, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth.

"It wasn't much of a fight…" I mutter as we enter the boardroom. We find Mason and I push the hot drink into her hands before she can say anything. Her eyebrows shoot up but she doesn't say anything. She can't, because just as our eyes meet a hush falls over the crowded room.

"Right, you all know why we're here so we're skipping the pleasantries" Abernathy booms. "Boss" he says with a nod at Paylor indicating that she is free to take the floor. I'm a little surprised by her presence but I suppose it's now necessary.

"Good evening everyone. If I can start by directing your attention to the board on my right…" she says as she points at a large whiteboard. It has been divided into three sections labelled ?, deceased and safe. Under each heading were the pictures of the tributes that had come from Rue. I swallow when I realise that there were more children dead than safe, but take solace in the fact that a lot were still, hopefully, alive.

"Every death is one too many… these children are some of the most vulnerable citizens that we protect, and let's face it, we could be doing better. But credit must be given where it's due and I will say that the kill count is low for a week into the games so we must be doing something right." Paylor tells the crowd. She scans the group, engaging everyone with her respectful words and commanding presence. Again I find myself in awe of her. She is the strongest woman I know.

"Our next steps are important, we need to get the surviving children and their families to safety while also discovering who the game makers are and taking them down. Abernathy if you will explain…"

The shaggy man nods respectfully. "We're going to place you all into two teams, and, before you complain, almost all of you are with your partners. Each team will be made up of members of the NYPD and the FBI, again - no complaints! Team A will follow the lines of investigation from the abandoned station we have discovered. Forensics already has a file full of leads for you. Team B you will be working on rescuing the remaining tributes. We believe some of them are moving in groups and others seem to be hiding, hoping to jump up once the others have killed each other and be declared the winner. As some of you already know, this is not going to be the case and if it follows its usual structure we will see some of the hidden children be flushed out by the gamemakers this week. The groupings are on the board at the back of the boardroom, please everyone take the updated briefing folder and actually read it. Also, be careful and have each other's backs…" he trails off and the hum of chatting voices fills the room.

I scan my surroundings carefully, letting myself notice the finer details. Nothing really seems amiss, everyone engaged in talk as they slowly exit, folders tightly clenched in fists. I half notice that Mason and Gale are looking at the group lists, Paylor is having an animated conversation on the phone while Abernathy is chatting with Agent Blight, Mason's partner, who has just flown in to join us now Gale has made an early return. I sigh and wonder if there is any hope at all.

Slowly, I make my way through the queue of people until I'm standing at the whiteboard with the tributes on it. I bite my lip as I look at the collection of young faces spread across the board and wonder about their lives. My eyes find those of the girl I shot and the still raw pain rekindles when I note she is in the deceased section. As is the boy named Cato and the boy that Cato shot. The others from the Safe and Sound Ball had all be placed in the safe section, and so had the boy who had been up on the fire escape on Friday, and the injured blonde that had threatened Mason.

"I'm surprised you're not up there Everdeen, being that you're the feast and all."

"They'd need another section," I mumble as I scowl at her.

"Yeah - 'Brainless'" she suggests with a snort.

I glare at her but don't argue. It seems that we are back to being…. whatever we were before.

"So are we B?"

"You and Gale are… I'm back with Blight on the A team," she informs me with a smirk. "It's been fun Everdeen…" she trails off and looks at me for a moment before adding "I owe you one."

I shake her hand because it seems like the right thing to do. She laughs and draws me into a hug. "I'm not leaving or anything brainless, I'll be around the office, and that amazing coffee place that all the probies hang out at. And you know what, odds are that I'll get called up to save your butt within the week."

I roll my eyes with a smile in my face. She's probably right, I have pretty horrible odds at the moment. "Just keep in touch Mason, and… Jo… be careful."

She nods solemnly. "You too." she replies, with a look that reveals that she cares just as much as I do. Friends… we're friends now.

Gale appears as Mason is leaving. They shake hands before the spritely woman strides over to Blight who had been waiting for her by the exit. I turn to look at my oldest friend who is grinning at me. "You've got to put up with me again Catnip," he laughs.

"I'm actually relieved," I respond honestly. "I will miss the car though." He chuckles as he passes me one of the we leave the board room together, heading for our desks. "How's Rory?" I inquire as we walk.

"Driving me crazy," he replies. "I do feel sorry for the kid, I do, it must be crap, stuck in that hospital bed all day everyday. But he is so moody about and is deliberately making everything so difficult. He refuses medication, won't let the nurses touch him, debates his condition with doctors… it's ridiculous! The only time he behaves is when Prim is there… I love him, but I'm over it. I asked Abernathy to come back early."

"Kids hey," I mutter, thinking about, well, everything.

"Don't…" he replies darkly.

As we continue our walk I spy a pile of folders out of the corner of my eye. They are sitting in neat pile on the desk of a traffic cop who was currently off duty. For a moment I wonder why I'm even remotely interested and then I see it. My mouth actually falls open in shock and my heart rate quickens. The stupid file is in THAT pile. I can actually see it. Second from the bottom, hidden in plain sight. My heart rate increases and I start to feel short of breath as I try to figure out how it got back here. Aurelius' warning comes to mind and I feel all color leave my face. This can not be real.

"Catnip? Are you OK?" Gale asks, concern shining in his eyes.

I know I've stopped in the middle of the walkway, no longer able to do two things at once. My mind is racing. I force a nod to appease my friend.

"I just need to go to the ladies," I say lamely and turn on my heel. If I didn't feel his eyes on my back I would have grabbed the file as I walked past.

I was so sure it was at Peeta's place, that's why I went back there. We went there for breakfast, it had been in my bag when I got there because I didn't want to leave it in the car - it was too important. So bloody important that I should have read the damn thing rather than acting like a lovestruck imbecile. I am brainless. It's not even up for debate anymore.

So what then, he found it… and brought it back to the station? But why wouldn't he give it to me… maybe he meant to but it never happened. Because I shot her… he didn't think it was appropriate. So then… then they all showed up. Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

I duck into the first room I come across which happens to be a cramped storage cupboard. I sit on a box, pull out my phone and dial Peeta's number.

"Hello?"

"Hi, it's me. Look, this is important… did you find something of mine at your place earlier this week."

"Are you alright Katniss?" he questions.

"Yes, at the moment, I just need an answer," I say

"Yes." he answers.

"What happened to it?" I ask.

"I assumed you took it with you when you went to prep for the ball," he replies.

I want to throw my phone and watch as it shatters into a million pieces. Even though it's what I predicted it's not at all what I want to hear. I take a deep breath before replying and hope I don't sound too alarmed. I don't need any more of his worry.

"OK. Don't tell anyone about this please. I'll explain later." I rush.

"Alright" he promises cautiously. "Is that all?"

"Yeah…." I start but then a thought pops into my head. "Actually no… what did you ask Sae, when you followed her, at the end."

There is silence for a moment. "You mean when Jo and I went there," he says. I know it's not a question so I wait for him to continue. The longer the pause the more anxious I become. This can not be good.

"I asked if you ever put your name in the bowl." he says slowly.

As it sinks in I begin to shake with anger. "You said…" I trail off because arguing about it isn't going to change the fact that he just admitted to lying. A pain wrenches through my chest and it's struggle to get the next question out "And w-why would you ask that?"

"Because I love you Katniss." He tells me. The emotion in his voice is raw and honest and I find it hard to hold on to Aurelius' warning.

"There's more," I say, trying to remain in control of all the damn emotions that I am feeling.

"Tomorrow," he promises. His tone suggests that it was not something we should discuss over the phone. But I can't wait, I've never been overly patient and the pictures of all the children who are unaccounted for are fresh in my mind. We're just going to have to meet somewhere.

"We meet now." I growl.

"Jackson is hardly going to let me just walk out," he argues. It's a damn good argument too.

I let out a frustrated sigh and hang up. I know that later I'm going to regret losing my cool with him but for now I'm just furious… with everything, but mostly with myself, and the stupid boomerang file.

I force myself to breathe in and out, hoping I'll find some clarity in the calm. I have no choice but to wait for whatever information Peeta is holding back. So long as he isn't a Dexter then he must think that whatever he's hiding either isn't that relevant to the case or that revealing it is going to get us all killed. I frown because the latter seems more likely.

Frustrated I slam open the closet door and, ignoring the strange looks of passing officers, I begin walking back to my desk. I might as well be doing what I'm supposed to be doing: researching tributes... and I'm going to get back that damned file.