A/N – This is a very dark and angsty story. All told from Peeta's POV. If you are looking for a happy ending, you've probably come to the wrong place.

I'm not Suzanne Collins, I don't own the Hunger Games, and I'm not making any money etc.

Please let me know what you think!

I smell the burning embers as the girl by the fire bleeds out. I never knew her name. I want to offer some kind of token condolence, as pointless as it may be, but with the Careers not far away that is impossible. I watch her, frozen to the spot, horrified, as she dies her lonely death and I await the canon fire that heralds her exit from the Games. But all I am aware of is the smell of burning. It doesn't smell like regular wood smoke… It smells like… bread. Burning bread. How strange….

I shake my head and am back in the present. The smell of the fire… It was this morning's loaves getting overcooked in the oven. I rush over to remove them, opening the oven door as dark smoke billows out. 12 loaves, all with a blackened crust stare back at me. These aren't salvageable for the shop, although I am sure Katniss will help me distribute them amongst the Seam kids. Mother will be furious of course, even though this will have no financial impact on us any more. I can worry about that later.

Forcing away the image of the girl from District 8 who died that night by the fire, I allow myself a small bittersweet smile. Katniss. To the Capitol we are still a couple hopelessly in love. For my part, this is truth. For her part…. Who knows what is there? Before our Victory Tour we were advised very strongly by Haymitch to keep up the pretence. There were whispers of dissent in other districts and keeping up the image of the two 'Star Crossed Lovers' may help to quell any further uprisings. If they can see our love wasn't staged, maybe they can be calmed…. We received vague threats that our families would be in danger if we didn't put a stop to the dissent. Katniss played her part very well and since returning from the tour we have had no more threats. I just wish I could reach out to her more. There are nights when she'll come to me, unable to sleep because of nightmares and I am so glad I can offer her comfort in those dark times. I just wish….. I wish it could be more. Our wedding will take place as planned by the Capitol, but it will be just as fake as everything else that comes from that hateful place. Maybe one day she will grow to…. Accept me? Painful thought. I want more. But I know that no matter what happens, I will always be there for her. I will always protect her.

I gather the burned loaves into a basket, but before setting out I take two un-iced cookies from the trays destined for the bakery. It takes but a few minutes work to transform them – one iced with a flower with five delicate yellow petals. This for Prim. One with three larger white petals, surrounding a deep purple centre. Katniss. She'll probably give it away to one of the poorer children and the thought makes me love her more.

Much as I wish our love could be real, and personal, tomorrow we will be back in each other's arms for the benefit of all citizens in Panem. Tomorrow we are being escorted back to the Capitol for the announcement of the third Quarter Quell. The previous victors will be interviewed for our reactions and alleged 'excitement' at this new means of keeping Panem's citizens under control. It's easy to appear in love for the benefit of the camera, but pretending to be excited at whatever torture gets thrown at ordinary citizens? This will require something else. A lot of focus is bound to be on District 12. With Katniss and myself being so fresh in everyone's minds, and Haymitch being the only surviving victor of a previous Quell, we are sure to be the talk of the town. Everyone will want a piece of us.

I stand on the threshold of her home and pause before knocking. Although we spend many nights together to keep the nightmares at bay, there are still days when she ignores me entirely. I never know what kind of a reception I will receive from her, but I hope she will accept me today. Our last day before we return to the Capitol. Taking a deep breath and working up the courage, I knock three times at the door. It is young Prim who opens the door, full of energy and always pleased to see me. "Peeta!" she exclaims, throwing herself forward and wrapping her tiny arms around me. I return the hug, ruffle her hair and as she extricates herself I slip the primrose decorated cookie into her hands. Her face lights up with pure joy. "Oh, Peeta! Thank you!" she cries, examining her prize.

"Is Katniss home?" I ask, ever hopeful. It is still early. I may be able to catch her before she sneaks off to the woods.

"Kat!" she calls out, absorbed in her gift, "Kat, look what Peeta brought!"

I look up and there she is. She had descended from upstairs as silently as the first flakes of snow in winter. My heart starts to beat a little faster and my breath catches slightly, the way it does every time I see her. I offer a small smile, but she avoids my eyes, and turns to Prim instead. It might be a difficult day after all.

Prim looks awkwardly between the two of us and makes an excuse about going to look for Buttercup. In reality she is affording us some time alone. The silence between us is not a comfortable one. After what feels like an age of her avoiding my eyes I break the silence.

"I thought you might like to help me today," I say, indicating the basket of burnt loaves. She sighs and walks forwards. Her gaze immediately rests upon the second iced cookie I had brought round. "What's wrong with this one?" she asks, picking it up with another sigh.

"Nothing's wrong with it. It's perfect."

Her eyes flash. "What am I supposed to do with this, Peeta?" she asks, her voice full of mistrust.

My turn to sigh. "Whatever you want, Katniss. It's yours."

She carelessly tosses it back in the basket, her attention turning to the burnt loaves. "Your mother won't be happy with you."

"Well, at least I'll only have to put up with her anger for another day," I reply, trying to add a little humour to my voice.

She smiles a tight, humourless smile grabs a coat and walks straight past me. "Are you coming?" she calls back.

I smile to myself and turn on my heels to follow her.

We walk together in silence but the silence feels more comfortable when we have purpose. Distributing these loaves to the poorer areas in town is technically illegal, but no one pays us any mind at all. As I predicted earlier, Katniss gives her cookie to a young girl from the seam who looks to be about 12. Clearly the girl reminds her of her sister. She gratefully accepts it as if this is the first and only gift she has seen in her life. It probably is.

We hand the final loaf to a family of seven, a father being the sole provider for six hungry mouths. I look at each of those children and a terrible thought comes to me. While we may have escaped the deadly reach of the Capitol, none of these children have. The Quell will be announced over the next few days, and the lives of at least two children, and of course their families, will be torn apart. Who knows what horrors will await them?

I look at Katniss and can see her thoughts are echoing mine, compounded of course by the fact that her sister's name will still be in the reaping balls. The Mellarks are lucky – we escaped the Capitol's deadly games relatively unscathed. But the Everdeens may still lose a loved one, just like any one of these families. Katniss has frozen to the spot. I reach out and take her hand and she accepts without protest as we slowly make our way back to the Victor's Village.

As we walk up the long pathway to our new homes, she stops abruptly. "I don't think I can do it, Peeta," she says.

"Do what?" I ask gently.

"Mentor these kids," she replies, the emotion in her voice bubbling over. "Watch child after child after child die. Know that I'm in part responsible if I can't get help for them. I can't do it." She starts to tremble and shake. I take her in my arms and hold her close to me until I feel her breath starting to steady. "We'll do it together. We'll help them and we'll bring them home," I say.

"We can't!" she cries, "Only one! We can only save one! They won't let two escape again, everyone will be trying it but they won't allow it!"

She's right of course, but I don't say anything. I just hold her close to me. I could spend forever with her in my arms. She is my solace. Haymitch turned to the bottle to escape the realities the Capitol forced upon him. I don't blame him for a second. At least we have each other for comfort. Whether we one day become the lovers the Capitol believes us to be - the lovers I hoped we would be – or not, we can always find comfort in each other's arms.

Who knows how long we are stood together before our reverie is shaken by a screech coming from my home. "PEETA MELLARK! WHERE ARE YOU, BOY?" Mother has discovered the missing goods. I brush a few strands of hair from Katniss's face, and wipe the wetness from her cheeks with my thumbs. "Better go home and face the music."

She smiles for the first time today, a sad, bittersweet smile, but a genuine one nonetheless. My heart lifts at the sight. I kiss her forehead and break apart our embrace. "Peeta?" she calls after me. I turn to her. "I don't think I can be alone tonight." I nod my understanding and promise I will see her later. Nothing will keep us apart.