Disclaimer: The Hunger Games belongs solely to Suzanne Collins
This is definitely not original or anything but I felt like I had to write one of these…
This is when they're on the train going to the game's for the second time.
Katniss's P.O.V
I couldn't sleep. My nightmare's were growing worse and worse. Last night I watched everyone I loved die only to wake up and realize that they're all, thanks to me, as good as dead anyway. I was downright afraid to fall asleep tonight.
I spent the first half of the night lying on my bed, staring out the window and watching the world flash by. Eventually I grow restless and get up to see if Peeta's still awake. He usually sleeps in my room, but tonight he insisted that we sleep separately. I opened my door as quietly as I could. Every sound is amplified tenfold at night when I'm supposed to be safely in bed. I creep down the hallway, as silently as I can. I feel ridiculous, poised on my toes, inching my way down the hallway like I did when I was younger and had a nightmare. I knocked lightly on Peeta's door. No answer means he's asleep so I crack the door open. The light pouring in from the hallway made his skin glisten. Alarmed, I push open the door a little more and saw that his entire face was covered in a sheen of sweat.
I enter his room, leaving the door open, and sit beside him. His mouth is twisted in a grimace. Every muscle in his body is trembling. He looks so sick. I place my hand on his forehead. His skin is warm to the touch. He shakes his head lightly.
"No, no, no," he says in his sleep. He must be having a nightmare, I realize. I brush some sweaty strands of hair off of his forehead. I can see his eyes twitching from under his lids.
"Peeta, wake up," I whisper. He doesn't respond.
"Not her," he begs. "Anyone but her." He flips over, turning his back to me. I can hear his labored breathing. I roll him onto his back and try to hold him down.
"Peeta. It's okay. It's just a dream," I whisper in his ear. I put my hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly. His sweaty palm squeezes mine. He grasps my hand like it's his lifeline.
"No!" he practically screams. This is so strange for me. Peeta is always the one comforting me. He prefers to suffer through his nightmares silently. Seeing him so vulnerable breaks my heart.
"Peeta," I say more urgently, shaking him lightly. He thrashes against me, trying to break my hold on him. His scowl quickly turns into a look of worry.
"Katniss," he sighs. He relaxes when he says my name, and so do I. Hopefully, the nightmare is over. Suddenly, he chokes out a strangled sound. I realize that the horror has only begun for him. He shakes his head violently. He's muttering something under his breath. The way he says it makes it sound like a prayer and a swear.
"Peeta," I say into his ear. "It's just a dream."
"No," he whispers. I felt utterly helpless. I keep shaking him with the hand he's not grasping onto. "NO!" Peeta bolts up right, panting heavily. It takes him a minute to realize where he is. He notices his hand clutching mine and quickly releases it. "Katniss," he said breathily. He collapses back onto the bed, his energy wasted. He's shaking violently. I place a hand on his cheek. He's still burning up.
I walk to his bathroom, grab a towel and wet it with cold water. I grab a glass from a cabinet and fill it with water too. I return to his bed and use the towel to mop the sweat off of his forehead. He relaxes under the cool, damp surface of the towel. He slowly comes back to his senses. His hand shoots up and grabs my wrist, immobilizing it.
"Thank you," he says. I smile in response.
"Do you want to tell me why you didn't let me know that you're sick?" I ask. He grimaces and takes the cloth from my hand. He sits up. I hand him the glass of water and he downs it in one shot.
"I'm not sick," he says. "Just tired and pessimistic. Dark thoughts breed dark nightmares. I didn't want my mood to rub off on me." I sit there staring at him.
"What are you pessimistic about?" I ask. His eyes search mine for understanding.
"Are you kidding me?" he asks. "We're about to be shoved into an arena, again, and one of us will die this time, if not both of us and there's nothing we can do about it. Damn it, Katniss. You're so dim sometimes." My eyebrows shot up. I bite my tongue stand up.
"If you didn't want me here, you could have just said it!" I said angrily. He groans and grabs my wrist.
"I'm sorry, Katniss. Really, I am. The stress is just getting to me, I guess." I remove my wrist from his grasp and sit next to him. I take a deep breath.
"Do you want to tell me what it was about?" I ask him, desperate for a subject change. He grabs my hands in his, turning his body so that he's facing me. This time I don't pull away.
"You came to me tonight," he says, avoiding the question. "Why'd you do that?"
"I couldn't sleep," I answer honestly. "So I did what I always do. I went to you. Except this time you needed my help." He smiles and squeezes my hands lightly. All of my anger melts away with that simple gesture.
"Thank you," he mutters. We sit like that for awhile; our hands intertwined, staring into each other's eyes. "You were running from me," he says. I realize he's telling me about his nightmare. "We were in the arena. It was dark. I was following you through the woods. I couldn't see you, but I knew it was you. Suddenly you stepped into a patch of moonlight and turned to look at me. I started running towards you but then I saw Cato coming up behind you. He had a knife in his hand. I tried screaming at you. I tried so hard to warn you." He shuddered at the memory. It takes him a moment to pull himself back together.
"You just kept staring at me, beckoning me into the light. Eventually I hit…a wall I guess. It was like suddenly you're there and reachable, but the next moment you're not. I couldn't move. I was frozen, forced to watch. I was forced to watch Cato bring his knife down. He hit you over and over. There was so much blo.." his voice broke. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. I squeezed his hands. Tears were threatening to pour down his face. I pulled one hand from his grasp and cradled his cheek. He leaned against it and took a deep breath.
"There was so much blood. More than there should be. Suddenly the wall was gone and the blood started washing over my feet. I ran at Cato but the second I touched him he turned to smoke and was gone. I wanted to hurt him so bad. It was like I wasn't me anymore. The only thought on my mind was murder. I came to my senses and ran to you. You were dying. I touched you and you…you flinched away," he said in bewilderment. I could tell how real this all felt to him. "You told me not to touch you. You told me you didn't love me, didn't like me. You said you hated me. Then you died. You died right there in front of me and there was nothing…nothing I could do…" He was crying now. I leaned forward and held him to me.
"Oh, Peeta," I say. He eagerly returns my embrace. When he had calmed down he places his large hands on my shoulders and gently pushes me back.
"Thank you," he whispers. I smile in response.
"No problem," I say. Suddenly I feel very awkward. I start to get up but Peeta catches my arm.
"Katniss, could you please stay here," he asks me. His eyes plead. I know I should say no, but I realize I don't want to. More than anything I want to stay with Peeta and fall asleep to the sound of his gentle breathing. I don't want to lose the feeling of his arms around me.
"Of course," I say. He lays down on his back and I rest my head on his shoulder. He puts one arm protectively around me and uses the other one to play with my hair. I put my hands on his chest.
"I know you don't feel the same way, but I love you Katniss," he says. I put one hand on either side of him and push myself up so I'm looking at him. He puts his hand behind my head and gently pulled me down so he's kissing me. I look in those beautiful blue eyes, getting lost in his loving gaze.
"I don't want you to die," I whisper. My eyes start to water. "I wish I could replace you with Haymitch. I feel horrible but I do. I can't stand the thought of living without you." It's his turn to, once again, comfort me. His hands are suddenly on my waist, sitting me next to him. His hands cradle my face, like mine did to his minutes before. "Don't," I say. "One of us is going to die. I don't want it to be you, so it's going to have to be me. I'm going to work my ass off to save you. Telling you…" I choke on the words. I was just about to say telling you I love you. I shut my mouth fast. My eyes water. "I don't want to hurt you. I don't ever want to hurt you." He grabs me in his arms and kisses the top of my head.
"The only way you can hurt me is by giving up like that. I refuse to live without you." We sit there holding each other.
"I love you," I choke out before I know what I'm saying. Suddenly it's like I opened the flood gates. I let one thing out so now it all has to come shooting out. "I think I've always loved you. I know that without you…without you life has no meaning. I need you Peeta. I love you. I love you I love you I love you." The words come out with gallons of tears. He holds me to him.
"I love you too, Katniss. And didn't anyone ever tell you? Love conquers all." I laugh at the stupidity of what he just said. But under the cheesy exterior, I feel my heart pound with hope. He smiles at me. "We'll come out okay in the end."
I sigh and rest my head on his shoulder again. His loving presence makes all of the nightmares and fear melt away. For the first time in weeks, I fall asleep without fear or uncertainty, comfortable in Peeta's warm, loving embrace.