Author's Note:

Hello everybody. This is my second fanfic and my first for the Hunger Games. I'm not the best writer, so I need a lot of help and feedback! I hope nobody is too OOC... Anyway, the story begins the night of Peeta's return at the end of Mockingjay. I'm not sure where I'm going to take this story. For now, I'm just enjoying the writing process. If you have any suggestions, please feel free to include them in your reviews or you could always send me a PM. As I said before, I'm going to need a lot of help! Thank you so much for reading. Please don't forget to review!

Never Let Me Go

I. The Beginning of the End

"Katniss!"

Prim's screams fill the air as the bombs drop and engulf her in flames that dance brightly around her. Her face contorts into an expression of complete and utter pain as the flames continue to revolve around her faster and faster – reminding me of the dress that Cinna had made for me before the Hunger Games. Everything slowly becomes black except for Prim who is burning in front of my very eyes. She begins to melt, her tears mixing with her pink flesh... I cry "PRIM!" over and over to no avail. I cannot prevent her death. I am useless. All I can do is watch as everyone around me dies.

"You promised to protect me," whispers Prim, "You promised…"

"I tried."

"You didn't try hard enough."

I wake up to find myself alone in my bed once more, sweat pouring like rain across my face. Buttercup's yellow eyes watch me curiously as I take in my surroundings and accept that it was nothing but a dream. I try not to think about the dream, but Prim's pained face appears before my eyes to remind me of the horrible truth that I have to face every day. The truth that I am the one responsible for Prim's death. The truth that everyone I loved would not have died if it weren't for me. Everything is my fault.

"You didn't try hard enough."

I know that Prim would never say such a thing, but she would be right. When I was in District 13, what did I ever do to protect Prim? I had almost forgotten about her, because I was too focused on my stupid problems. She was the one who had to comfort me when Peeta was in the Capitol's hands and I couldn't do anything about it. In fact, it was Gale who had paid more attention to Prim when we had lived underground in District 13. Gale. The same Gale who did not say so much as a goodbye before he left for a fancy job in District 2 where there are plenty of girls to occupy his attention. And last but not least, Peeta. As Haymitch pointed out, I didn't try as hard as I should have to help him recover from his hijacking. I was a coward, and I still am.

I sigh, scared by the knowledge that nothing I do is ever right. Outside my window, rain is falling down in buckets and the sound of thunder can be heard in the distance. I can't help but wonder if I will die alone like this. Nobody wants me anymore. Not even my own mother cares for me. I can't say I'm surprised though. Prim had always been her favorite.

I find myself thinking about Peeta's return just a few hours ago and the primroses he had planted under the windows. He had been kind enough, but he didn't seem like the Peeta I used to know. I never expected him to be, but it made me feel so empty knowing that he would never truly love me again. What does it even matter? If he finally understands how selfish and disgusting I am, it would be for the best. I don't deserve Peeta, not even if I lived a thousand lifetimes.

Buttercup meows at me, startling me out of my reverie. I stare at him, only to receive a cold glare in return. If only morning could arrive sooner. It makes me miserable staying here in bed for hours at a time, knowing full well that the nightmares will come sooner or later. Sometimes, I find it hard to sleep at all. Nevertheless, I close my eyes and force myself to forget.

...

After cleaning up Buttercup in the morning, I walk down to the living room to face what I have been avoiding for so long. On top of the television set lies the letter from my mother that Haymitch gave me a few days after our arrival at District 12. As much as I hate my mother for abandoning me when I needed her most, I tell myself that I need to move on with my life for everyone who had given their lives up for me. The least I could do for them was read a months-old letter from my only family.

I gingerly open the envelope and take out a plain white piece of paper that is filled with my mother's neat handwriting. I take a deep breath before reading:

Dear Katniss,

I hope that all's well in District 12. I'm sorry I can't be there for you, but I couldn't bear to return. You might feel betrayed by me again, and I can't blame you if you do. I have not been the mother that I should have been for all those years. Not everyone is as strong as you, Katniss. I am not proud of those days, and I want to start over with you. You don't have to forgive me, but I just want you to know that I really do love you.

As Haymitch may have told you, I've recently begun working on creating a hospital for the people here in District 4. All the plans have been made, and construction is set to start in less than a week! Annie comes to visit often. I'm not sure why she does, but she's been looking brighter ever since. Her little boy is growing up so well. It's a shame that he'll never be able to meet his father. You should come along to District 4 if you ever get the chance. I'll be waiting here if you need me… and Annie would be happy to see you. She talks about you a lot.

I have to go now. I have another meeting to attend regarding the construction of the hospital. Remember Katniss. Don't lose your purpose like I did. Life goes on, and you'll find that it might not be so bad. Sure, there are days that you want to hide from the rest of the world. However, I promise you that it does get better. I never followed this advice, but I sincerely hope that you will. I only wish I had known earlier. I love you. Keep in touch.

Sincerely,

Mom

I don't know how I should feel. On one hand, I feel angry that she has the nerve to excuse her actions and tell me how to live my life. On the other hand, I know that she must be hurting and that she wants to talk to me. We may not have been very close, but I suppose it's never too late to give our relationship another try. After all, what have I been doing here in District 12? I have been acting just like my mother when my father was killed. Lifeless. A perfect adjective to describe my life between my arrival at District 12 and the present.

Hesitantly, I call the number written on the bottom of my mother's letter. I am tempted to hang up after the first few rings, but my mother promptly picks up and says, "Hello?"

"Hi."

"Katniss?" she asks, surprised, "Is everything alright?"

"I… I read the letter that you sent me."

"Oh, are you mad?"

"Mad?"

"Well, yes," she replies nervously, "I haven't been fair to you. I should have accompanied you to District 12. I was a coward."

"No, it's fine," I say, "It's… understandable."

"I've been so selfish," she sighs, "I've made up excuses for myself when I know that this is as hard for you as it is for me. You always loved Prim so much."

Prim. As soon as I hear her name, I hiccup in shock and find that my eyes are already welling with tears. After the dream I had last night, I can't gather the strength to stop myself from letting my tears spill over. My mother continues to speak, and I can tell from her voice that she is crying too.

"It should have been me," she whispers, "If only they had killed me instead."

"Don't say that!" I reply, horrified, "It's not your fault that they killed Prim."

"It's not your fault either then," she says loudly, "I know that you blame yourself for Prim's death, but there was nothing you could do. Besides, you saved her several times in the past by taking over for me when I wasn't there. None of us would have made it if it weren't for you."

"No, it is my fault," I say angrily, "If I had just died in the Hunger Games, none of this would have happened."

"But if it weren't for you, we wouldn't have been alive by the time the Hunger Games came around," she argues, "You fed me and Prim every day even though I did nothing to deserve it."

I want to say that it is my entire fault and that nothing can convince me otherwise. I want to scream at her and threaten to never call again. I want to say that none of us would have made it if it weren't for the boy with the bread who had given me a small glimmer of hope and who was now gone forever. But I don't say any of that.

"Does it matter?" I ask quietly, "Prim's never coming back."

"It does matter, Katniss," she says softly, "She would never have blamed you for her death. In fact, she would have wanted you to move on with your life and be happy. Don't you want to do that for her?"

I burst into tears again. I do want to move on and forget, but how can I? Every night, short scenes flicker before my eyes as if to remind me of the evils I had caused. I can see Rue being shot by Marvel, Finnick being bitten to death by mutts, and Peeta being tortured at the Capitol every time I get into bed. It's hard not to blame yourself for a crime when the evidence is right in front of you.

"Never mind. Just promise me that you'll visit soon, Katniss," begs my mother.

"I'll see if I can make arrangements," I sigh, "I probably won't be going anytime soon though. It's hard enough for me to readjust to life here."

"At least, keep in touch," she says, "I don't want to lose you."

"You too."

I hang up, feeling drained by the short exchange. I cannot forgive my mother just yet, but I think I might be able to understand her and that is enough for now. I am about to return to my seat on the couch when there is a knock on my door. I check the time and realize that it's probably just Greasy Sae coming to check on me and serve me breakfast. When I unlock and open the door, I am astonished to see that Peeta is standing next to Greasy Sae with a warm loaf of bread in his hands.

"Hey," says Peeta shyly.

"Hey. Um… come on in."

Greasy Sae hurries off to the kitchen to begin making breakfast while Peeta follows me to the living room. He sets the loaf of bread on a nearby table and sits next to me on the couch. We sit there in silence for a minute or two, neither of us quite knowing what to say. I am still unsure about this new Peeta and how he will react to my words. I remember Peeta's actions during our journey to the Capitol, and I cannot help but be afraid.

"I brought you some bread," says Peeta slowly, "I baked it myself an hour ago."

"Thank you," I reply politely.

An uncomfortable silence takes over our nonexistent conversation, and I muse over how strange the situation is. I am sitting next to the boy who risked his life for me time and time again, yet I cannot find the courage to start up a proper conversation. Who have I become?

"I'm sorry I didn't contact you," says Peeta, frowning, "Dr. Aurelius didn't want me writing to you. He thought it might interfere with the treatment."

"That's alright," I say, attempting a smile. The smile actually comes out more like a grimace, but I continue. "I've been doing fine here by myself."

Peeta looks at me closely as I reply, his electric blue eyes as magnificent as ever. I stare back at him, realizing that he knows that I am lying. I have not been doing fine. The dark bags under my eyes, the poor state of my hair, and overall griminess easily give me away. I'm not the one who's had to recover from Capitol hijacking for several months, but it's obvious that I look much worse for the wear.

"I've missed you."

His words come out of the blue, making me jump in surprise. Could it be possible that Peeta still cared for me? I had given up on Peeta a long time ago, convincing myself that he would never be the boy with the bread again. Yet here he was… baking bread again and telling me that he missed me. For a moment, I am filled with hope that he might love me. I quickly berate myself for doing so, because I am being selfish again. Peeta deserves someone better, and it'll only be worse if he does truly love me.

"Why?" I manage to spit out after a complete minute of silence.

Peeta looks surprised.

"For the past couple of months, Dr. Aurelius has been helping me bring back all my real memories," explains Peeta carefully, "As we were working together, I began to remember you and who you really were. My feelings for you. They all came back so strong."

"Peeta," I say in alarm, "What are you trying to say?"

"I'm not sure," he admits, "I've thought about it for a while, but I think that I may still love you."

I feel my heart leap in joy, but I can't do this to Peeta. I would only be a burden to him. I have to let him go.

"I'm sorry, Peeta," I say, getting up, "I can't return your feelings. Don't you remember? I'm the one who made you like this. I'm the reason you've been suffering for these past few months."

I'm about to leave when Peeta grabs my hand and he looks right into my eyes.

"No, you're not."

"I am."

"Look, Katniss," he says determinedly, "I don't blame you and neither should you. And I know that you can't return my feelings yet. This is probably confusing for both of us. I just want to start by being friends again."

"Friends?" I pause, thinking to myself.

"Yes."

"I'd like that."

I hate myself for giving him hope. But what else can I do? I want the boy with the bread back in my life.