A/N Hey guys, this is my first Hunger Games fanfiction, and my second fanfiction overall. I appreciate any and all feedback and flames. So go ahead. Hit that button. love.

My heart shatters. It's funny how within a matter of seconds, your whole life seems to change. "What do you mean? How could you get me and not Peeta? Haymitch, you promised. YOU PROMISED ME. YOU PROMISED HIS PROTECTION!" I shout, breaking down in tears. I hear my words echo off the plain, cold, concrete walls that surround everywhere here in District 13. I wrapped my arms around my thin middle in a desperate attempt to suffocate the pain that was enveloping me. I could feel the shards of my heart breaking apart and stabbing my body. Peeta. My Peeta. The Peeta I was supposed to protect. In the Capitol, probably being tortured about the rebellion he knew nothing about. He has no idea what they will be asking him about, and yet he will still be tortured. "WE WERE SUPPOSED TO PROTECT HIM!" I jumped up at him, weeping. A few seconds later I just throw myself back down into my seat, burying my face in the crook of one of arms on the table.

"Now, Katniss-" Plutarch began, putting a hand on my scrawny shoulder in a feeble attempt to comfort me. I shook it off harshly, sniffling to compose myself. I scowled at him and Haymitch, scooting my chair farther away from both of them.

"Don't." I said fiercely. My eyes burned wholes in his head. "Why would you rescue me? Over him? He's obviously the better choice. HE is he only way we survived as star-crossed lovers in the Capitol for so long. Not me."

"We've already discussed this, sweetheart," Haymitch said, taking a swig from his flask. He slumped back in his seat, and ran a hand through his long, greasy hair. He stared at the rest of the people in the room, meeting their eyes. He was having sort of a silent conversation with the more important figures of District 13 and a few Capitol rebels. Also among them were my mother, Prim, Gale, Hazelle, and Finnick. Finnick and I were in the same condition as of right now, and we looked like complete messes. The Finnick I knew and had grown to be closer with, had changed completely into the Finnick now. His hair was stringy and sticking to his forehead and his eyes were bloodshot. He had lost wait and the cheekbones in his face had become more prominent. He had become much more plain, and he never seemed to sit still, like me. "Look, Katniss, we couldn't get him. I know you're probably thinking how its your fault and you have a problem with all of us grabbing you up from that hell, but it just wasn't possible. Things didn't go as planned. It wasn't possible. We barely got out alive as it is. But we'll get him back. We are already beginning to construct plans."

I don't say anything else, just cover my eyes with my hand. After a few more minutes of silence, I stood up shaking my head, and stalked over to the door. As I reached the doors, I turned around, "You better."

I threw a glance in Gale's direction. Just to see if he cared. But my best friend was taking an interest in the table much more than I was so I just flared with anger and looked to Finnick. He stood up, understanding. He followed me out of the room and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. I looked up to him and showed him just how broken I was from my expression. His face softened, and squeezed me tighter. "It'll be alright, Katniss. I just know it will," He said softly, and began moving forward, pulling me along with him.

I sniffled into his shoulder and kept moving along. We padded in bare feet down the cold tiled hallway that led back to the hospital ward we were both residing in. The tiles alternated gray and a creamy off- white. The walls, like every other wall in this mole burrow was void of color, decoration, or the slightest imperfection. The lights were a bright florescent, and was blinding when we first arrived. Finnick and I walked down the chilling hallway in silence. There was nothing neither one of us could say. We were both equally heartbroken. Even though Finnick's Annie wasn't present in the arena, she was held captive as well by the Capitol. Finnick and I are in the same place: both of our loved ones are being tortured. I mean, the people we care about.

I still hadn't figured out whom I loved, and that was the least of my problems as of this minute. I did care about Peeta. And I did love Gale. But in the way he thought and hopes for? I don't know. And because I don't know, Gale has been giving me the cold shoulder and shrugging me off. That's a reason why he isn't here now, consoling me in the way Finnick is. Part of me longed for him to barge out of the door, and to just wrap me up in those big arms of his. But I know this is a selfish thing to think. Gale shouldn't have to console me. If I really didn't end up picking him, then would this be how it end up for the rest of my life?

"Finnick?" I asked in a small voice, clutching onto his middle for comfort.

"Yes?" He said in a low tone, looking straight ahead.

"Thanks."

He gave a small smile and gave me a little squeeze. "Us dangerously attractive victors have to stick together, right?"

I smiled a little back up at him and we came to a stop at my room. I stepped away from his warm embrace mumbling, "Thanks, Finnick. Hopefully I won't see you in my nightmares tonight. Night."

Finnick only nodded in return and padded away down the cold hall to go back to his hospital room, where he would almost definitely would have terrifying nightmares that would wake him up in cold sweat, shuddering and screaming to get out.

I walked into my room and shut the door quietly behind me. The floor was just as cold in here. I sighed and pulled off my hospital clothes. Every patient spending more than two nights in the ward were given a mandatory dark green pair of pants that were loose and airy, but warm, and a dark green short- sleeved shirt. For pajamas, every patient is given a pair of dark blue shorts, dark blue pants, and a dark blue short-sleeved shirt. I pulled on the shorts and the tee and found my way over to my nightstand that stood against my bed. Inside of the night-stand's drawer was a few candles, matches, a picture of Prim and myself in the Meadow back in 12, and the pearl from the games. Around my neck I wear Peeta's locket, Peeta's token. I have since we got here in 13. At first I wore it so that I wouldn't lose it. Then I felt attached to it when the time came I could take it off it I chose to. But now, I'm wearing it for a different reason. Besides the pearl, it's the only piece of Peeta I have left.

I climb into bed, fingering the locket. If only I had a picture of him. Tomorrow I will find one. Then I'll put him in there, even if I have to take Gale out to make room. As I settle down and get comfortable, in the darkness I manage to find sleep.

I open my eyes, but I'm in a different place now. Back in the arena. I look down at the paralyzed Beetee and look around. I know what happens next in real life, but in my dream, it always changes. I hear my name being screamed, and by an all too familiar voice. "PEETA!" I scream back, cupping my mouth to scream louder. "PEETA I'M HERE!" I find myself running in the direction of his voice. His sweet, caring, voice that I would give anything to hear, even though its only been about a week. "PEETA!" I yell again.

It isn't too long before I hear his voice again, this time closer. "KATNISS!" A frantic Peeta repeats, tearing through the jungle of plants and trees and long grass. "KATNISS!"

We both stumbled into the clearing at the same time, screaming each other's name in unison. We both stop short for a second, shocked that what we see is really happening. But I don't hesitate for long. I full out sprint to Peeta, holding my arms out. But from out of the brush, I see a shadowed figure step out, with something very sharp in his hand. The figure isn't very far from Peeta, who is limping somewhat slowly on his prosthetic leg. "PEETA!" I shout, seeing the oncoming danger, and sprinting faster to try to protect him. Something in my face shows him that something very serious is going on, besides us being apart. With a concerned and questioning expression on his face, the sharp object is thrown and lodged right where his heart is. He dies instantly, me only feet away from him. The figure disappears in the brush, and I break down with grief.

Instead of just seeing it happen, I feel it. I feel all of the pain it takes to have a knife sear through your heart, making its job to keep you living much, much more difficult. It begins to fail, along with your brain, who is not getting the blood it needs. But, the pain does not go away with death, seeing there is no knife through me. I collapse under the pain my body is cause, and my lungs start failing on me too. Instead of breathing, I struggle to hold on to the breath I have left. It's not going to cut it.

I struggle with my last breath, and all of the pain intensifies everywhere, as if a million knives were just thrown into me repeatedly, but I could not find the darkness and numbness of death.

"PEETA!" I screech, jolting up from my bed. It was just a dream. It was just a dream. I repeat to myself. It's alright. I grip my chest, over my heart, and silently slump back into the mattress. I take a few heavy breathes and calm myself down enough to lay still. But I know sleep isn't coming any time soon. I lay in bed until a nurse comes in to check on me, hours later.

She smiles in my direction, and gives me my medication and some water to down it with. I obediently take my medication and ask where the library is. She instructs me in the direction, and after I slip into my day clothes, I begin the trek. I pulled the elastic out of my hair, and moved it all so it was over my right shoulder. I re-braided it, after combing through it with my fingers and looped the elastic five times over the end. I flip it back over my shoulder and find my way to the library. I sit down on the computer and type in Peeta Mellmark into the computer's search box. Immediately, pictures from this year's victory tour and opening tour, and even pictures from the games, inside the arena. Then I find it. It is a picture taken from the games, where Peeta, Finnick, and I are all sitting in sand on the beach. Peeta's arm is around my shoulders, and we're grinning at Finnick, who's on the other side of me. He is also grinning back. I reach at the screen, my fingers finding my way to Peeta.

I click on it, size it down, and print the picture, then grabbed the small picture from a nearby station and returned to the desk. Finnick is one of my family now. At least, to me he is. Why shouldn't he be in my locket, too? I slip the picture of Gale out, and stuff the picture of us three in, gently of course. I realize I have a little more space, so I stuff Gale's back in, but in a different spot below the picture, which is front and center now. Even if he is being... how he is... He's still my best friend. I close the locket and kiss it, terminating the search and wander around the complex. It's not long before I'm tired again and head to my temporary home, I hope, and lay down in bed, where another nightmare rickets its way into my brain.

"Peeta," I whimper. "Come back and take the pain away."

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