The Epilogue - Katniss and Peeta

Explanations.

"I've taken her for granted, Flynn." I start, but he immediately pulls me away from him, holding my face in his hands.

"Don't start this." He remarks, moving his thumb back and forth against my cheek. "You can't blame yourself, sweetheart."

I don't say anything, and I look up at his green eyes that look glossy, and I can tell he's holding back tears. My mother is just as close to Flynn as she is to me and Rye, so I'm not surprised that he's worried about this.

Rye.

"Where's Rye?" I ask, my eyes widening as I pull away from him.

I turn to look back at the house, and I notice the front door still open. I look back at Flynn once more before running towards the house, quickly moving through the open door. I look quickly around for him until I hear crying coming from upstairs. Flynn is right behind me, and I run up the stairs to see all of the doors closed except one—my mother's room.

"Go talk to Rye," Flynn says quietly. "I'm going to go call and get an update."

I nod at him and I watch as he goes down the stairs before turning and walking into my mom's room. I see him curled up tightly in their bed, clutching something in his hand. I move towards him, and I call out his name.

"Rye, it's okay." I reassure him while sitting down next to him, and he looks up at me from his knees.

"They both left, Willow." He says, and I realize he has my mom's pearl in his hand. "Dad said he didn't have time to explain."

The pain, and anger, and feelings I didn't know were possible, all weigh down my heart at the same time, and the reality of knowing what most likely happened hits me.

"When did this—how did this happen?" I look around the room, my heart racing as I try to come up with some sort of explanation as to why she did this.

"After you left." He says in between tears. "When the paramedics carried her down the steps, she was so pale and I know something's wrong—but nobody told me anything and I'm so scared, Willow."

"I—" I stand up, my hands trembling as I do so. "I can't do this, I can't think about—she's okay. She's alive—stop telling me she's not."

"Willow—"

I run out of the room and down the stairs until I find Flynn, who's staring at the phone. I notice the tears streaming down his face. I notice the phone hanging downwards; almost as if he dropped it.

His hands are in his hair, but they soon fall down his face and cover his mouth for a few moments before turning towards me.

"Willow." He says, and that's all he has to say to me.

I shake my head at him before I feel my heart pick up speed. The feeling reminds me of the day I was in the Capitol, and the day my mom sang to me so I'd calm down.

I sink to the floor, clutching my chest as the pains of my quick inhalations take over. I feel his arms around me soon after I do this, but it doesn't help me. Tears flood down my face, and I realize the thing I've always been scared of has finally came true.

My Mom's gone.

My Mom's gone.

My. Mama. is. Gone.

"She's gone." I start in between my shallow breaths. "She's gone—she's gone and I—I can't remember the last hug I gave her."

"Take a deep breath, sweetheart." He says, but I ignore him.

"My Mom's gone—I stopped calling her Mama—why did I—I stop calling her my Mama, Flynn?"

My voice breaks and I cry into his chest, clinging to the only stable thing in my life.

He holds me like that until my eyes run dry of tears, and he helps me upstairs to my bed. He holds me in my bed too, but this time it's different.

It's almost as if he's holding me so that his emotions can't escape his body—me being there to give him a reason to keep going.

Rye eventually joins us in my room, him not wanting to be alone. He sleeps on the other side of Flynn, but he rejects Flynn's arms. He doesn't know what happened, and I don't plan on being the one to tell him.

I can only truly process one thought.
The thought of my Mom being gone.

_

*Peeta's POV*

I walk through the door, this time being different.

I left the house with her, but now I'm not returning with her.

I left the house feeling a lot of emotions, being scared and worried about what would happen next. Now, the only thing I feel is numbness.

I just want her back.

I close the door behind myself, looking into the house I used to think of as my home. This isn't my home without her. We grew into this home, but now I feel as if I'm a stranger walking through a family's childhood home. I don't belong here without her.

I just want her back.

I see him sitting in the living room, and I sigh, knowing it's time for me to explain. As I make my way towards the living room, and I walk past all of the rooms with her ghost haunting them, a few tears fall down my face. I thought I had ran out of tears, but I guess I was wrong.

Just as I was wrong about her getting better, and just as I was wrong about her wanting to be alive.

As soon as I reach the doorway of the living room, Rye immediately looks up at me and bombards me with questions. I feel sick to my stomach seeing the paintings of her around the house, and even more tears fall down my cheeks as I stare at the painting of her on our wedding day.

"Where's Mom?" Rye asks, bringing my attention from the painting to him. A few more tears reluctantly fall down my face, and I try to hide them. "Why are you crying?"

"I have to talk to you." I say quietly, wiping the tears off my cheek.

I sit down beside him, and I look down to prevent anymore tears from falling. I fumble with my hands until I have enough courage to open my mouth, and I finally meet Rye's green eyes—the ones that pain me to look into because of how similar they are to her's.

I just want her back.

"She isn't coming home, Rye." I say under my breath, preventing my voice from breaking.

"Why?" He asks looking at me, and my heart aches as I think about her.

I just want her back.

"She didn't—" I stutter over the words that once came so easily to me, and I struggle to find an explanation. "She just isn't coming home."

I watch as he stares at me in confusion, and I feel more tears ricochet down my face.

"I want my mom." He says, standing up from the couch. I let my face fall into my hands and I let all of my tears escape. "Where is she?" He asks.
"Where's my mom?"

I just want her back.

"She's not here, Rye." I say, my voice breaking on the end. I look up through my teary eyes to see him standing in front of me, and he looks so distressed. "She's dead."