Kieran still wasn’t used to saying goodbye to fallen friends of the war.

  Even several months after the war, after everything that happened, the deaths of his friends were still fresh on his mind. The memory book he and Peeta created helped remember them, but Kieran still wanted to do more. He just didn’t know what to do. Peeta baked a loaf of bread and picked just one primrose for Kieran to take to Annie, and here he was.

   Kieran and Annie talked. They exchanged a few smiles, and Kieran watched the baby boy cradled in her arms. But the moment Annie mentioned Finnick, long pauses were shared between them. Kieran felt his eyes, probably Annie’s too, on the flower pot of the single primrose. They shared this now, the death of someone they loved. Kieran tried to share his own memories of Finnick, but he found the words hard to say, long pauses easier, and then silence comforting.

   He left her home soon after, planning on visiting his mother in Four, when he suddenly wondered -- staring at the other victor homes -- of the 73rd Hunger Games victor. He remembered, Poseidon Bertram. Finnick must have mentored him. Kieran wouldn’t usually care, but wondered if he was still here. He turned back, searching for him. Other than Annie, he was the only District 4 victor still alive. And maybe, the only other person here who knew Finnick. 

@fictusxsmile

The apartment that had been given to her after her own had been blown up was not that far, she had grabbed the suitcase and threw a few things into it, things that she would need. There was no time to waste even more when the train would be arriving soon, besides she hated the whole idea of leaving Peeta behind on his own. She trusted the boy, she knew that he was making huge progresses but she felt bad in leaving him on his own for long period.

She did a double check around the room and once she was happy to find that everything that she needed was in the suitcase Effie had left. Apparently she had taken all the time that she could because as she approached the station she saw the train already there, she cursed herself under her breath and for a moment pushed all her manners aside as she tried to run as fast as she could in those heels without breaking them or breaking a leg.

With heavy breathing and her cheeks very red she had finally reacted the station and found Peeta exactly where she had left him, smiling she smoothed her skirt and jacket, chin in the hair and a smile on her lips. “Thank you my dear, I think I make it just on time.” She smiled softly at him. “Come come, let’s get inside.”

Her hand she had rested it on his back, lightly guiding him inside the train as she followed close behind, there was no need to ask if he had her ticket, she could trust him to be sure that he had it for her. “Now we have a two day ride before us but I’m certain that will go by flying.” Effie tried to be cheerful; she could see in Peeta’s face that the boy didn’t seemed that convinced about returning. “My dear any doubt that you have, you can ask me. I do not want your mind to play tricks on you.”

It was like a flash to the past, directly back to the first games. Effie leading him onto a train with a hand on his shoulder, insisting that it’d all be all right.  And just like then, Peeta wasn’t so sure. Of course, this time he was more than likely not going to face death, but he was still as unsure as ever. They boarded, handed off their luggage to be stowed away, and found a few seats to themselves. The train was a little fuller than it was during the Victory Tour or on the way to the Games. With travel opened up between the districts, people were going everywhere. Not to mention, rebuilding required them. So, they came and went from all over, still being shuffled around by the war.

It was only when they were both settled into a seat in a relatively empty car that he chose to answer Effie back. In a hushed tone, he went over it all, the worries that plagued his mind. “You know the last time I saw her, right? The... the execution. She... Katniss, she didn’t mean to walk away from there. She still had a nightlock pill on her. I saw her pull it out after the shot. She was going to take it, but... I stopped her.”

Peeta’s head hung, his eyes burning holes into the floor of the train. “I don’t even know why I did it. I just... did. I knew I couldn’t let her take it. But... now I have to go see her? After that? And that’s not even counting the fact that she... that I’m... not all there still. There’s no way she’d want to see me, Effie.” Shaking his head slightly, he let out a heavy sigh, that only for a second relieved the weight he was still carrying on his shoulders. However, it all came rushing back, falling even heavier than before. “I’m just going home so I can be home,” he muttered, daring to look up at her. However, his gaze drifted back out to the still sparkling, though slightly broken Capitol outside the windows. 

It was odd. As much as he had looked forward to this day, now he felt nothing, but the opposite. His heart pounded in his chest and he had half a mind to turn around and beg Doctor Aurelius to let him stay there. But there was no other choice. He was recovered, or at least by their definition, he was. He was physically fine, his burns had healed even though they had left some pretty bad scars, and according to the tests, Peeta was sane. He didn’t feel that way, but there was no fighting the results, especially after he took the test a second time. 

He was shown out of the Capitol hospital, allowed to walk free. He wore the last good set of clothes he had worn, the suit for Snow’s almost execution. Uncomfortably, he shifted in the sleeves and jacket, standing out on the half rebuilt street. No one was there to greet him, no one stopped to even look at him. He was alone. 

Carefully, he wandered the streets of the Capitol. So much had been destroyed and was just now getting cleaned up. So much was left over from the war. The only real thing that had been cleaned up thoroughly was the bodies. They had been buried weeks ago, but somehow, in the back of Peeta’s mind, he still saw them. Pulling his jacket tighter around himself, Peeta pressed on, letting his memories lead the way. The crowded streets they had ran through, the terrified Capitolites with nowhere to go, and eventually, when Peeta looked up, he stood now in front of Tigris’ boarded up shop. 

His mind lingered on everything that had hapenedinside, before a sign not far from her store front caught his attention. Designers’ Drive. Why hadn’t he noticed that before? A whole street for the designers from the games. It figured. However, an idea quickly crossed his mind. If that was where the designers lived, then...