A/N: Hello again friends. It's been a while since I've been here. I'm gonna keep this short and sweet.

This is a wannabe X-Men, Last Airbender sort of crossover. I started this forever ago and now kinda wanna come back to it and edit it a bit. If you've read this before and wanna keep doing so, that's awesome. If you're new to it all I hope you like it, and I hope I have the passion and tenacity to keep this thing going. We'll see.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Hunger Games series, plots, or characters by any means - that goes for all my chapters and stories on this site 'cause I'll be too lazy and forgetful to remember to put this elsewhere. I'd clearly make Cato and Peeta do it, so, there you go.

Please review, and enjoy.

Chapter One: The Mom, The Man, and The Moon

"Come here, Peeta!" the woman exclaimed. The two-year-old made his way to his mother, whose soft, golden-colored hair flew gracefully back and forth with the wind, occasionally obstructing her king and loving face. She wore a smile - a smile as bright as the sun, though infinitely more approachable. Peeta held out his hands to meet the woman's, who swiftly picked him up and swung him around a few times, in full circles, before holding him tight to her chest, protecting him with her love. She looked down to her giggling toddler. "You are more special than you know, baby. You are going to do great things some day." She paused. "Amazing things." She kissed his forehead, as if it were to be the last time. "I love you so much, Peeta."

Peeta's thoughts were clouded with distant memories as he examined the only photograph of his mother he possessed. Her right hand tugs at her flowing yellow hair, placing a few strans on the back of her right ear, as her other hand holds a gorgeous tan sun hat right above her waist. She's got a smile that's blinding. Her amber-colored eyes are looking directly at him, making it feel like she's there in person, her essence forever contained within this picture, within his hands. He flipped it over. On the back of the photograph a few sentences were written - seemingly perfect, untouched by the past few cruel years:

Whenever you are alone, Peeta, look to the moon. I will always be there for you – wherever you are, wherever I am. Remember: you are always loved.

-Mom

He's done this more times than he can count: played with this picture, as he does whenever he's feeling down. It's been thirteen years since that day…thirteen years since he last saw the one person he could always count on. She died shortly after that memory, Peeta thinks. There had been a terrible car accident, and she didn't make it. His father never got over that loss, though he had remarried – and to a witch of a woman, no less. Dad knows he'll never find someone like her again, Peeta thought. And it was true – Lily was the only person of her kind: infinitely intelligent, kind as a rose is beautiful, and stunning to gaze upon. She gave George three sons: their oldest, Loochi, who was twenty, and practically co-ran the bakery alongside his father; Cross, who had turned eighteen not too long ago, and dreamed of being a stone mason; and Peeta, their youngest, who was probably most like their mother in appearance and personality: brilliantly oceanic eyes, dirty-blonde hair, kind and sweet.

He often got pushed around by his brutish brothers for being so passive. It wasn't that he was afraid to stand up for himself – mostly it wasn't that – it was that he hadn't seen the use in fighting, physically, when everything, he believed, could be settled with calmness and a logical conversation. His brothers thought otherwise, and frequently tried to beat some "sense" into him when he was younger. They gave up when he was around eleven. Peeta was deemed "a lost cause."

He placed his mother back onto his nightstand, but not before he gave her a brief kiss. He didn't need to tear up about this, once again. He was nearly sixteen years old, and maybe his brothers were right: being a man means you show no emotion. That's practically the only thing I can do... Peeta shook his head, ridding himself of the all-too common and dampening thoughts that plagued him from time-to-time. I'm better than this. I'm more special than I-

"Peeta!" A shrill voice plowed its way through the house, originating from downstairs. "Get down here. Now!"

"Yes, Maybelle!" Peeta yelled, trying not to sound as irritated as he was upon hearing that horrible screech. He threw himself off of his bed, and slipped on his socks and shoes – normally one wouldn't do this to simply talk with another, but when Maybelle chose to speak to Peeta, it often resulted in some sort of argument which sprang forth from nowhere, and often led to a beating and, ultimately, an escape. He was used to it.

He ran down the flight of stairs before catching sight of his father, with short brown hair and defeated, swollen eyes. No one said it, but everyone knew – Maybelle beat her husband. She wasn't threatening in stature or anything, George just couldn't bring himself to defend himself – to forcibly hurt his wife. He was too kind for that. Maybelle, on the other hand, had no quarrels with the matter – she was used to being in control, no matter how she obtained and retained it. It's been this way for ten years. Why his father chose this ghastly woman, Peeta didn't know. He figured his father feared that deadly wave of darkness named loneliness. I'd take that over Maybelle any day, Peeta thought.

Peeta's eyes finally touched upon Maybelle's form halfway down the stairs. Bouncy black curls came down to her shoulders, in almost too-perfect-to-be rings. She always wore a beautifully-made blouse, which harshly clashed with her destructive personality – tonight a blue one, covered in snow-white Dahlia flowers that came down to her mid-shins. Her coal-black eyes, filled with fury as they often were, penetrated his whole body, freezing it mid-descent. Peeta looked to the steps before continuing, walking over to the blissfully-wedded pair, and stopped three feet in front of them. He brought up his eyes to meet Maybelle's – she was as tall as Peeta was, about 5'7" – when he noticed the bread paddle in her hands. She noticed his noticing, and quickly threw her hands behind her back before speaking.

"Peeta, your father and I would like to talk with you," she began, unusually calm. Peeta's mind began to race with what he could have done wrong within the past few days. Is this about that bread I burned the other day? I didn't think it was such a big deal. At least the pigs got to eat. Or is this about my birthday? I'd rather spend it alone. Or with Dad. Maybelle looked to her husband, giving him permission to speak.

"Son, we wanted to know if...anything...odd has been going on with you. Changes with your body? Anything you can't explain?" the man asked, talking with his hands. He looked concerned, like he wouldn't be able to handle what his son was about to say, regardless of what it really was.

Peeta cocked his head sideways, and shook it, before letting out a simple "What?" Puberty first came to mind, and even though Peeta couldn't fully explain it himself, he knew science could, so that was out of the question. "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

Maybelle grunted, picked up her right foot, and slammed it onto the ground before looking to her husband. "See, George? I told you he was completely useless." She locked eyes with Peeta, eyes void of softness versus those made of cotton. "A total. Waste. Of space," she enunciated. "I should have known better than to hold some sort of hope with you," she said as she brought back the paddle from her back, pointing it at Peeta accusingly.

"May, it could still happen. He's not even sixteen," Peeta's father tried to reassure her, placing a hand sheepishly on her shoulder, almost afraid of it catching fire. She shrugged it off.

"No, George! This boy does nothing but sulk about his long-dead trashcan of a mother," Maybelle stated. This was not the smartest move the woman had ever made. Peeta clenched his fists and took a few steps forward.

"Take that back," he threatened. He didn't know what he would, or could, do to this monster. But he couldn't let that slide, never. He looked to his father, who shook his head in defeat. Peeta's eyes began to water.

"Or what, little boy?" Maybelle teased. "Gonna burn all our bread?" She raised an eyebrow, and smirked, challenging him. "The only thing you're good at." Peeta's face grew hot and red with rage – he's been angry before, but nothing like this. No one's ever insulted his mother before, at least not to his face. And why would they? Peeta felt one of his shaking fists rise, ready to strike, only for it to come down seconds later. Hot water ran down his cheeks as his lips and chin unconsciously trembled.

"Burn in hell, you bitch," Peeta let out, voice slightly cracking. He made his way through the living room, reached the front door, and exited the house before he'd allow himself to get beat, too. He ran, going nowhere in particular, in the dark, with nothing but the shadows of the nightlife and the gleam of the moon and stars to keep him company. He came upon the supposedly electrified fence, the fence he and Katniss would frequently cross whenever they could, before coming to a stop. I'm so sorry, Dad. I wish I was strong enough for the both of us. I wish I could do something. I wish I could help. He lifted his head up and gazed at that beautiful yin-yang of a sphere in the sky, playing with the beautifully-crafted sterling silver charm bracelet his mother left him, tugging on it for support.

You are always loved.

Peeta smiled. Thank you, mom. He brought up his sleeve to rub at his eyes and nose, and fanned at his eyes, before maneuvering himself through the hole in the supposedly-electrified fence. He was sure Katniss would be waiting for him, as she usually was. He didn't want her to worry. Peeta walked the path he had walked many times – swatting away tree branches, almost tripping over vines on the ground – when he finally came to their spot. Much like he had expected, Katniss was there, waiting. Only, she wasn't as stoic as usual. She was hunched over by a tree trunk, in a ball, knees to her chest, rocking back and forth. Crying...? Peeta stood there for a minute, waiting for a change, before breaking the silence.

"Katniss?" he questioned, softly. She looked up suddenly, fear ruling her beautiful grey eyes. She pushed herself off the ground, slowly, then ran into her best friend's arms, sobbing.

"Peeta..." she let out. Peeta felt the rise and fall of her body against his as she cried, not knowing what had happened or what to do. He softly played with her hair and rubbed her back in a soothing motion, trying to calm her down.

"Katniss, what's going on?" he said as he grabbed her arms and pushed her, slightly, in front of him so they could speak. She was still whimpering. Peeta took his sleeve and wiped at her cheeks. That seemed to give her the strength she needed to begin and he smiled. "Come on, you can tell me anything."

"They took my family, Peeta," she let out, beginning to cry again. "They took both of them!" she yelled in a rage. "I only barely managed to get away-"

"Slow down, Katniss!" Peeta grabbed Katniss's hands, which were slowly coming to cover her face, and put them down to her side. "Who's 'they'? And why did they take your mom and Prim?" Katniss shook her head and turned her back to Peeta. She walked toward the tree she was recently huddled beside and took in a deep breath. She turned her head slightly, only giving Peeta a side glance.

"Promise you won't freak out?" she asked, uncertainly.

"Of course, my 'lady friend'," Peeta let out with a smile. Maybelle once called Katniss that when she accused the two of them of dating. They weren't, of course. She chuckled, then sighed. She walked toward him again, Peeta's eyes never leaving her form, and knelt down to the ground, beside a puddle. She motioned for him to kneel too.

"Here goes," she let out, before bringing her right hand, palm up, to rest right beneath her chin. Her mouth formed a small "o" as she exhaled. Tiny crystals flew from her mouth in a graceful stream of wind, making their way to the puddle, which had now become frozen. Peeta's eyes grew wide with fascination, as he stood up and put his hands in the air.

"Katniss… What…?" he questioned, fearfully. "What did you just do?" He slowly backed away from her, unsure of what he'd just seen.

"Peeta!" Tears quickly began to form in her eyes again at the thought of her best and only friend disowning her. She got up to meet him. Peeta only backed up further, when his heel met a vine, and fell to the earth, tumbling down the uneven hill. His body gained momentum as leaves and mud covered his person. Before he came to a stop his right leg came across a sharp twig, gashing it open and jamming itself in place. He laid there for a moment, collecting himself, when Katniss came sliding down the hill to help him.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry, Peet'," she whispered as she inspected him. "I shouldn't have showed you. Oh God, that twig..." Her hands cautiously hovered above the wound, unsure of what to do. Peeta looked up at her, not caring about his injury. He knew he over-reacted.

"No, Kat, that's my fault," he smiled. "I was just a little startled, okay?" Katniss smiled then. They both looked down at the piece of wood lodged in Peeta's thigh, shaking their heads.

"I'm gonna have to remove it. Stay still," Katniss warned. Peeta tightly gripped the mud around him for support, as Katniss counted down. "3... 2-" Yank!

"Ah, God damn it!" Peeta screamed. "Isn't there supposed to be a 1 around there, somewhere?" A blood spout had formed, and was slowly emptying the red, warm liquid from Peeta's thigh onto his clothes and the ground. He noticed Katniss about to cry again – he's never seen Katniss so emotional before – so he covered the wet spot with both of his hands. He winced at the pain. "It's nothing, really. I'll be fine," he lied. It was a pretty deep gash. Peeta threw his head back, applying pressure. "Damn it... Could this night get any better?" he chuckled.

What happened next was more than unexpected, the universe silently answering "You probably shouldn't ask that question anymore." A faint, heavenly glow was being emitted from the young man's hands, hovering over the bleeding wound. Peeta and Katniss couldn't tear their eyes from the sight as the pain slowly drained from Peeta's body. After the light had dissipated, Peeta slowly lifted his hands up from the spot, and gasped in bewilderment. The gash was nowhere to be seen.

"Peeta!" Katniss exclaimed, a huge smile gracing her features as she looked to Peeta's face, then back to his leg, then back to his face again. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Peeta shook his head slowly, not sure what to think of the situation. "Katniss, I-I really don't know what just happened." He looked from his leg to her face. "This is the first time I've ever done this kind of-"

The kids' joy was only short-lived, as red, white and blue rotating lights came into view, lighting lit up the darkness. Wee, woo, wee, woo. The light, the noise, was coming from-

"A hovercraft?" Katniss asked. Peeta shook his head, for what felt like the millionth time that day, in confusion. Hovercrafts actually exist? What's it doing in the middle of the woods? Before being able to think more on the manner, his thoughts were interrupted by a stern man's voice, amplified by a megaphone.

"Katniss Everdeen. Peeta Mellark. You two have been caught in the act of performing...illegalities, and are hereby arrested and to be taken to The Capitol for further questioning." He paused, waiting for some sort of response. None was given. "Put your hands in the air and do not make a move." The two teenagers did as they were told, not wanting to jeopardize their lives as two more hovercrafts found their way to the scene.

Well, one of them, anyway.

As the main hovercraft slowly approached them, Katniss turned her head to the left, locking eyes with Peeta. She smirked. Peeta shook his head, knowing what she was planning to do. She only held her devilish smile, as she turned to the hovercraft now only five feet away, swiftly brought her hand to her face like she had done with the puddle, and blew. In a matter of seconds the hovercraft was frozen in place, covered in a veil of freezing, steaming ice, and fell to the ground with a large boom sound.

"Run!" Peeta yelled. He grabbed onto Katniss's jacket and the two began to sprint in the opposite direction of their assailants. Branches flew past their heads as they picked up speed, knowing if they were caught it would be the end of them. Peeta's lungs soon felt like they were placed over his bread oven, burning from overuse. He turned to look behind him, the two remaining crafts still right on their tails. Worried, Peeta attempted to pick up the pace, only to catch another vine, and meet face first with the ground. Katniss stopped in her tracks and came to his side.

"What are you doing?" Peeta yelled. "You need to go!" Katniss shook her head, trying to untangle his ankle. Peeta pushed her off of him. "I said leave! Now!" Katniss got up, smiled sadly, and left Peeta to his own. The two hovercrafts finally caught up to him, coming to a stop right before him.

"Looks like you're all alone now, little boy," one of the megaphones blurted out. A woman's voice. Peeta ripped his ankle from the vine in fury, angered by the similarly used nickname, his step-mother coming to mind. He stood up, solid as a rock, ready for whatever they had planned for him. The two hovercrafts, and Peeta, stayed put, unsure of what to do next.

"Why isn't he using his power?" the hovercraft on his right let out, not on the megaphone, but still an audible, ignorant whisper.

"Maybe he doesn't have one," the other thought out loud. "Either way, he has to be taken in." The two crafts slowly approached, when all of a sudden they also became riddled with solid water, thunking to the ground. Katniss came into view.

"God, they're dumb. And so are you. You really thought I'd leave you here?" She smiled. "Come on." They ran, hand-in-hand now, for what seemed like hours. It could have been minutes, neither one knows. All they knew now was that not a thing in their lives would ever be the same. Lives full of uncertainty. So many questions to be answered. The thought of never seeing his dad again pained Peeta, down to his core. Suddenly, a whistle boomed through the air.

"That must be the freight train!" Peeta exclaimed in joy. "We need to hurry if we're gonna make it." The two picked up their pace, and finally exited the thick forest. The sight of a rusty, vandalized cargo crate was surely welcomed. Peeta came upon the handle of the door, swung it to his left with his right hand, and threw Katniss inside. He jumped in after her, rolling around in the hay. One more final whistle and the train began to move, wheels screeching in the night. Peeta slammed the door shut.

"We made it," Katniss panted. "I can't believe we made it." She held her head in her hands, body slumped against the back wall. Peeta got up and looked around, eliminating the possibility of a hobo or something eavesdropping on their conversation. After checking every square inch of the box, he sat down on a bundle of hay, and sighed.

"What the hell just happened, Katniss..." Peeta let out in disbelief. "One minute my dad's asking me about my 'bodily changes,' and the next we're being chased by-" Peeta didn't finish his sentence. A thought occurred. Katniss looked to him from her hands and cocked her head. Peeta stood up and paced some more. "Changes... He asked me if there was anything going on that I couldn't explain," Peeta thought out loud. "He knew this was going to happen! He knew!" he exclaimed before sitting himself down by Katniss – a very confused Katniss.

"Peeta, I think he was just talking about puberty. It's about that time, isn't it?" Katniss logically explained, nudging his shoulder with hers.

"No, that's what I thought at first, but there's no way... He was saying- And then Maybelle got angry when!-" Peeta stumbled on his thoughts. "And then she called my mom trash!" Peeta screamed in a whimper, head falling into his lap, sobbing. Mom, I could really use your help right about now. Katniss brought her chest to Peeta's back, comforting him.

"Sh, sh. It's okay, Peet'," she let out. "Let's just forget all this shit happened for now and get some sleep while we can. All right?" She rubbed his back in circles. Peeta wiped at his eyes and sighed.

"All right."

The two of them found several different bundles of hay to lie upon, crafting two makeshift beds out of the crunchy material. They lay, side by side, attempting to drift off into a much-needed sleep when Katniss spoke.

"Peeta?" she asked, simply.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think..." She paused. "We're gonna make it out of this mess...alive?" Genuine fear and uncertainty plagued her voice, he could tell. Peeta thought for a few moments, not sure whether to lie or not. He wasn't sure either, but something deep down inside told him they would. His sight met the brown ceiling. He spoke with finality.

"We don't have a choice."

A few hours had passed when the train finally came to a halt. Peeta and Katniss lay quietly asleep, not aware of the sudden change in movement. The sun's rays breaking their way through the crate's wooden door caught Peeta's face, playfully tugging at his consciousness. He rolled onto his side before opening his eyes. It was light out, but not too light. He guessed it must be around six or seven AM. He wasn't fully awake yet.

The sound of an old man's voice surely changed that.

"Unload the shit from that one, mate. I'll get this one," he said as he slowly approached Peeta's and Katniss's box. Peeta's eye shot open in fear as he shook Katniss awake.

"Katniss, get up!" he shouted in a whisper. She grunted and rolled onto her side, facing away from Peeta. "We're about to get our asses caught!" Katniss jumped up, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"Well, shit," she eloquently let out. Peeta scanned the area for some place to hide. Surely the man couldn't carry out all that was in this crate in one go. He spotted a large wooden box in the far left corner, grabbed Katniss and ran behind it, as the door came sliding open. Peeta peeked from the side to watch as the man grabbed a few bundles of hay before leaving the site. Peeta crept to the door, looking both ways before jumping out, realizing how stiff his body had become from sleeping on a bundle of horse feed.

"Time to go."

The two teens walked the sandy roads, out of the ghost town they had arrived in.

"Peeta, where exactly are we going?" Katniss asked after they walked for two hours in silence. She looked to Peeta who gave no response. "You don't know, do you?"

"Katniss, how am I supposed to know? I don't know everything! I've never been outside of our own town before!" Peeta yelled, snarling at her.

Katniss' shoulders dropped, guilt-ridden. "I'm sorry."

Peeta came to a stop and shook his head. "Don't be," he sighed. "I'm just...I'm worried. We're in the middle of nowhere. We've got no food. We've got no water. It's as hot as my kitchen during summer time-"

At that moment he felt a chill come over him. He looked to his side to see Katniss blowing on him – not freezing him, just cooling him down. He sighed in relief. "Thanks."

"I've been doing that to my arms for awhile now. I think I'm getting the hang of it, but it's exhausting," she explained.

"No more then. We've gotta keep walking."

The two quickened their pace. They walked for hours. They seemed to be in some sort of desert – hills of never-ending sand surrounded them everywhere they looked. The sun was slowly frying their bodies, their brains, and their spirits.

"Peeta..." Katniss panted out. "I can't go much further." Peeta looked behind him, catching sight of her body collapsing to the soft, blistering ground.

"Katniss!" He ran over to her, moving the sweaty hair out of her face. She was unconscious. Peeta picked her up, carrying her bridal-style before walking again. He looked down to her.

"We'll make it out of here. I promise."

He kept walking, the added weight of Katniss clearly slowing him down, and adding to his fatigue. Another hour went by before he threw her over his shoulder, deciding this was a much more efficient way of passage.

More walking. Peeta felt like he was going insane. Little, sharp needles were pricking every part of his body, unrelenting, laughing at his weakness. At least that's what it felt like. He was running on sheer willpower now, all the water in his body now on top of his salty skin. He began hallucinating: seeing Maybelle with her paddle twenty feet away, smacking it onto her other hand dangerously; his dad with those defeated eyes, but kind smile; his mom with her beautiful golden hair dancing in the wind. Soon after he, too, collapsed, Katniss' body flying from his arms, down to his left side.

Peeta began to crawl toward his mother. "Come here, Peeta!" she seemed to mouth. With all that was left in him he crawled, and crawled. He had almost made it to her before going under, his vision tunneling, the sight of his mom the last for some time. His head hit the sand.

"Mom...I'm so sorry..."