She's been there as long as Peeta has; as if she'd actually be anywhere else while he recovered. There are things Katniss could be doing, yes. She could help run the bakery in his absence. She could be working on the bow she's been attempting to craft. She could even help with any recovery efforts. None of that seems important right now. Something, some weird muttation-like thing, had attacked Peeta. It could come back. This arena could throw something new at them. Forget responsibilities. She isn't leaving his side.

Thankfully, there's space in the room he's been assigned. As tempting as it is to crawl in the bed with him, she pulls up a chair to his bedside instead. Katniss does her best to make herself as comfortable as possible but even when she wakes up with a creak in her neck, she doesn't complain. This has nothing to do with the star-crossed lovers she has to pretend to be a part of. Her actions are entirely selfish. Peeta needs to stay alive. He's going to be the one to survive the Quarter Quell. Whether or not this is an extension of that arena doesn't matter. The premise hasn't changed at all.

Whenever some, even a medical professional, approaches Peeta, Katniss tenses. It's hard to trust others here, just as hard as it had been in the arena. The weeks spent building a new life hasn't made it any easier. If anyone insist that she goes home, Katniss is prepared to scowl and argue. Although she'd rather not be here at all, at least they're together.