I do not own The Hunger Games.

Peeta's POV

"What's happening to her?" I motion to Katniss, visible on the screen in Dr. Aurelius' office. Katniss is standing at her window and singing. She has been in the same position for hours, singing song after song.

"We aren't sure." Dr. Aurelius cocks his head inquisitively. "You know her better than anyone. What do you think is happening to her, Peeta?"

I snort derisively. "I know her better than anyone? Are we talking about mutt-Katniss or real-Katniss? Who knows what I know anymore?"

"I think we both know you have made great strides, despite everything. Trust your instincts. What do you see there?"

I turn toward the screen. They have her wearing some sort of paper-ish robe. The room is bare and her lunch tray sits mostly untouched. She has the look of someone on morphling – thin, with a vacant look to the eyes. Her voice, though, is completely present. It swells and dips, spreading over me with such tremendous emotion that is it like drowning in tears. My own throat closes up with grief for my family and friends…for all that I've lost. If she is a mutt, she is a siren-mutt. Her voice beckons me to give in to the grief and let it overwhelm me. How can anyone hear her singing hour after hour and not lose their mind?

I shake my head, letting tears fall. I do not know what she is becoming. I only know that she is not a mutt, which means that what I hear is her very life pouring out of her. Every emotion she has never shown is right there in her voice. This sound, if I painted it, would be bold slashes of thick-textured color, gradually fading to dark blue-black at the edges.

One song ends and another begins. I recognize this one as The Valley Song. This is the song that made me fall in love with Katniss when she sang it on the first day of school. I don't remember it, although I did watch the replay of Katniss and I talking about it. I try to conjure something inside me, poking inside my mind like a bruise that I can't leave alone. Red dress. Two braids. Nothing. I close my eyes, feeling my tears drying on my cheeks.

Poke-poke at the bruise. I know this is what Dr. Aurelius wants: to watch me test my limits.

I open my eyes in frustration, ready to tell Dr. Aurelius that it's no use: no amount of poking is going to bring the memory back. I swing around to face him, and Katniss-on-screen becomes a blur of braided hair.

WHAM!

I am 5 years old watching Katniss scramble up onto a stool in a blur of excitement, her red dress making her sleek braids look almost black. She doesn't even need help from the teacher at all, and it's a tall stool. I am amazed at her confidence both in climbing (she's a girl, and don't girls always need help climbing?) and because she is going to sing in front of the class (not for all the fresh cookies in my Dad's bakery would I do that!). She is standing very straight for a tiny little thing. I can feel something inside of me trying to make me fearful – as if the little girl is a threat. I beat it down and tell it to shush – I know this is important and I want to hear what comes next. She opens her mouth and the sound that comes out is so pure, so much bigger than her, that even the birds stop to listen. The part of me trying to make me afraid just shrivels up. I can feel my heart break open to let the sound inside. I cannot believe that this little girl in front of me is so fearless and so full of life. My heart pounds, my mouth goes dry, my fidgeting on my chair becomes less and less then stops completely. I am transfixed, even when she energetically climbs off the stool.

WHAM!

I am panting. My nails are digging into my palms and I can feel the sweat rolling down my face and soaking my back. Dr. Aurelius is looking at me with interest while an attendant stands next to him with a unused needle. Dr. Aurelius must have called him in when I started to zone out. "Peeta, was it the song that triggered your episode?"

I try to get my emotions under control. "Ye-es." I stutter. I sink to a chair. "This was different, though." I say breathlessly. He waits for me to explain. "She wasn't a mutt. Katniss wasn't a mutt and neither was I. I think…" I stop because I want this to be true so very badly…" I think this was a flashback of a real memory."