I stared in shock at the chaos around me. Rebel guards with red bandanas tied around their heads were yelling and shooting royal guests all around me.

One man stepped out of the writhing crowd, a rebel, his gun pointed at my chest. I lifted my hands in a placating gesture. I was about to tell him he didn't have to do this, that there was another way, but before I could open my mouth, he turned, pointing his gun at America.

I couldn't react, couldn't move. I knew what I wanted to do, what I had to do. I needed to protect America, to save her, but my feet were glued to the floor.

I watched as the rebel pulled the trigger of his gun. Everything moved in slow motion as the gun fired. I saw the bullet spinning through the air, getting closer and closer to America, but everything around me had frozen. Nothing moved save for the lethal lead ball as it finally found its target in America's chest.

She crumpled to the floor and everything resumed its normal speed, but I didn't see any of it. All I saw was her gasping and clutching her ribs as blood began to stain her dress. I fell to my knees beside her, holding her in my arms.

"America," I sobbed.

She looked up at me and smiled, "I love you," she whispered. Before I could respond, before I could tell her I loved her too, her eyes glazed over, staring blankly into space. She was gone. I held her tighter, sobbing.

Suddenly I sat up, disoriented. I realized I was in my bed, my face was moist with sweat and tears.

America rolled over in bed beside me. "What's wrong Maxon?" she asked.

I put my head in my hands, unable to speak without falling apart.

America sat up beside me, wrapping her arms around me. "It was that dream again wasn't it?"

I looked up at her nodding. Her eyes were filled with concern and love as she rubbed my back soothingly.

"I'm right here," she said softly. "I'm not going anywhere."

I pulled her closer to me, "I know you're not darling. I just can't stand that dream. The thought of losing you..." I trailed off. "It makes my heart ache."

This dream had been plaguing me for over a week now. Every night it was the same. I was about to announce that Kriss would be my future bride, when the rebels attacked. But instead of saving America like I actually had, I was forced to stand by and watch as she was killed. It was one of the most disturbing dreams I'd ever had and it kept repeating every night. No matter how often I had it though, it reduced me to a sobbing mess every time. I was a king, I was supposed to be strong. I was supposed to bear the weight of my entire country, but I couldn't even handle my own dreams.

Not alone anyway. As I held America closer to me I realized she was here for a reason. I wasn't supposed to rule Illea by myself. That's why I was forced to choose a bride in the first place. I was supposed to have my queen by my side, supporting me as I supported her. And there was no one I'd rather have supporting me.

I ran my thumb along the scar on America's arm, the one from her real bullet wound. She was strong. So much stronger than I was. She had grown up in poverty, sometimes going hungry. She had left her family to come here for the selection. Not because she wanted power, or even because she wanted me. All she had wanted was to provide for her family.

Now I was her family, and I knew we were going to make a difference. We were going to change the world. Together.

Hey guys, I hope you enjoyed that little one-shot. I'd really appreciate some constructive criticism and reviews! I'm editing this because I'm changing my username (formerly TheUnwantedDemigod).

Thanks for reading!

- Spacedoutwrites