A/N: Firstly, I have to say: I am no good at Hunger Games fanfiction. This is my first try at it, and at a first person perspective! I am sorry if it is atrocious. Secondly, there are too little Peeta-centric fanfiction out there, there's close to zero competent!Peeta ones. I really feel that Peeta was not that much of a wimp las portrayed beside Katniss. Still, I hope you enjoy it! This is a one-shot, there will 99.9% be zero, non, none sequel of any sorts to it. Only 0.01% chance that there will be another one-shot that can be read as a sequel or a stand-alone.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games trilogy, neither do I own Peeta's leg.

"Together?"

"Together."

Katniss and I were carried up onto the hovercraft, and I hanged on for dear life, each passing second harder than the last. I knew blood was trickling steadily down my calf, but I started to feel it lesser and lesser.

That isn't good. I frowned, looking at my bloodied leg looked up at Katniss.

"Peeta?" Katniss met my eyes with her beautiful grey ones, and I found myself thinking: how beautiful they are.

Katniss?

I started to feel dizzy, dizzier than before, and I saw Katniss' worried face and her eyes opening wide, hand reaching out for me.

I felt my legs giving out under me, and I managed a small smile to reassure Katniss that I'm alright, even though she was practically holding me up.

I love you, Katniss.

And the world went black.

The first thing I heard was a constant beeping sound next to me. Probably still in the arena, my eyes flew wide open and my hand went towards the knife I had buckled at my waist, only to grasp air.

A figure came forward suddenly and I lost whatever sense of calmness I had. I was back in the arena.

The constant beeping started accelerating and the figure held my shoulders down, arms steady despite my strength.

More people entered the room, all dressed in white, and my vision started to tunnel.

Katniss? Katniss! I did not know whether I shouted it out loud, but all on my mind was her safety. Her.

Is she alive? She can't be dead, right?

My hysteria was calmed by a soothing feel in my veins, forcing me back into the dark.

I woke up again, and this time I was sure to keep myself calm. As calm as I could be.

My eyes adjusted itself to the bright white lights of the room, and I felt a pounding headache and a throbbing at my right leg.

I tried to sit up, but to no avail, as both my wrists were strapped to the bed, and I could feel the hysteria bubbling inside me.

Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out.

I continued doing that until I could breathe normally again, and a blonde-haired figure came into my view. I immediately felt a rush of relief.

"Haymitch." It came out a rasp, only then I noticed how thirsty I was.

The top half of the bed moved upright, and he took up a glass of water with a straw near my lips. I hungrily sipped the clean, delicious water down my parched throat, and was left disappointed when it was gone in a few seconds. I wanted more. I stared at Haymitch.

"Can't give you more, don't want you puking whatever's left in your stomach now." He placed the glass on the stand near the bed, and sat down on a chair next to me.

"How's Katniss?"

Haymitch smirked, "Still worrying for her, are you?"

"How's Katniss?" I repeated my question again, still staring at him.

"She's alright, they're taking care of her."

I heaved a sigh of relief. "Thanks. For keeping her alive."

"It was the sponsors. And you're the one that got her sponsors."

"Like I was any help. Busy dying for days and dragging her down."

I couldn't help but lace my words with a little accusation. I knew I went in without any hope of coming out alive, but he could have at least sent me something when I was on the verge of death.

"I got you both out alive, didn't I?" Haymitch answered arrogantly, albeit a little more subdued than usual. His grey eyes showed a tint of remorse.

My leg started throbbing harder and I couldn't ignore it anymore.

"Haymitch, how's my leg?" It came out soft and raspy.

He averted his gaze from mine, and didn't answer.

"Haymitch?"

I gave up on his nonexistent answer and wretched my gaze downwards.

My left leg was there, while my right...wasn't.

"Oh."

I stared at the space where my blood and flesh used to be, not believing my eyes, even though I knew there was a high possibility of me losing it.

"It was either that or your life, Peeta. I made the choice," Haymitch finally looked back at me and for once I saw the regret in his eyes. "No one could take another cardiac arrest from you after two continuous ones."

At least I'm alive.

Still, I felt a huge void inside me, and I couldn't stop the tears that accumulated at my eyes.

Surprisingly, I felt his arms around me, hugging me warmly.

"You did well, boy. You did well."

FINIS