A/N: Hello there! This is my first Hunger Games fan fiction. I really don't know if it'll be that good, it won't be a super long story, maybe a few chapters are best. This takes place between the last chapter and the epilogue in Mockingjay. Not much will be changed from the story and I hope to keep the in character, they may be slightly OOC a times, I don't know. There will be a lemon eventually. Not sure when it will be, it all depends on how long I make this. Not super original, not when there's so many other stories about this time frame, but oh well. I wanted to write my own version.

Anyways, leave reviews if you happen to read this. I always like to hear from the people who do read my stories. And enjoy!

-Also, don't expect them to just know things in this story, they're young, 19/20 at best and they never really experienced a relationship before. I'm basing this a lot of my own relationship which i've been in for eight years now. It was also both of our first and only relationship we've had and we still are trying to get things right. I'm tired of reading stories where, for whatever reaosn, they just know things and don't mess up at all. They wouldn't be like that. So hopefully this is a more realistic side to the time in between.


A Lullaby to Soothe the Demons Within

Chapter 1


Katniss' POV

One Year Later (Pre-Epilogue)

How many times did I tell you I've loved you since that day, when you asked me if it was real or not real? Days have passed and with each one that goes by us, I still feel like telling you those three words again. Maybe it's to reassure you that I was genuine with those feelings, or perhaps I'm still trying to convince myself of my own feelings. I'm never sure. You always smile though when I murmur those words to you and it comforts me a bit more each time when I see your eyes smile along. You know me better than I know myself, we both have known that for a while now. It was never a question but more of a task for me to admit that finally. Knowing that someone knew you so well can be slightly unnerving, especially when you weren't equipped to deal with the emotions that plagued you regularly, leaving you confused in their wake.

It's been a year since we came back to District Twelve. A year together, living in one home, sleeping in one bed, and sharing one life. Things were simple like that for us; we never make ripples that could cause us to fight. I was content with that, I think. I knew we would get married one day, maybe start a family afterward if I was ever willing to take that next step. Such an intimacy still scared me; when you have scars like mine, that you, yourself, couldn't even handle to look at, how could you expect to let anybody else see them? After going through the games, having so many people see you naked and get over it quickly, you'd think this really shouldn't be a challenge. Yet it was. Those scars had memories attached to them, memories I hated reliving. But my mind refused to let them go, which was so evident in my dreams; my nightmares. They reminded me of what I had lost. A best friend. My little sister. My last bit of stability and reason for living. That's why I allowed myself to cling to Peeta, he protected me, made me forget those memories while I slept, reminded me I at least still had him even though it was selfish. One bed. It benefited us both in the end. My presence calmed him and kept his nightmares at bay, while his presence did the same for me. I don't think that either of us were selfish for doing this, we had a silent understanding about it and if I did happen to wake up screaming from a nightmare on those odd nights, he'd wake up, wrap his lean arms around my shoulders, his head propped on one of his arms, letting his warm breath brush against the damp skin on neck and tell me that it wasn't our current reality, that it was the past. He never tries to tell me I'm fine, that what I had saw wasn't real, that I was safe because it would be a lie. My own mind was the cause of my problems, always replaying scenes from the games, the war, of Prim. I hated it. Yet here I am now, still breathing and still alive. He's become my anchor in this dark sea of nightmares, holding me down to the last bit of sanity I may have. I love him for that. I love him for many different reasons.

I feel bad for not giving him more support in return. After the hijacking he endured he still has moments when I'm unsure if it's him or not as his eyes lose their life and he stares out to something that isn't there. He hasn't hurt me, not since the day we got him back from the old capitol, the day he wrapped his leath, pale fingers around my neck, trying to take snuff out the life from my body. The day when his words had hurt the most. Mutt. They had brainwashed him to believe I was a mutation, that the me who was in front of him didn't really exist. It was horrifying to think of what they did to make him believe that, to see that when he had laid eyes on me. I had hated them for doing that to him. But after a year of therapy and treatment he was better, better than before anyways. He still had his own weekly sessions with the doctor over the phone.

He would talk about how he viewed me, always putting me in a brighter light than I really should have been. When he spoke of me, I always imagine a field of flowers around me, smiling so carelessly as I would run through the field, looking back at him to see if he was still following me. It was a dream that was beyond reach for us though. I could never imagine myself being so happy. Had I ever been that happy in life? I think so. When my father was still alive, while we were in the woods hunting and going to our special spot; away from the District and away from the life we were subjected to live because of the capitol. I felt bad for Peeta, I think he really believed one day our lives would get better and that the past would be the past, not haunting us every night as we dreamed. I don't think that would ever happen. But I wasn't as optimistic as he was when it concerned our future. He thought of having kids one day. I couldn't fathom such a thing happening. My mind set was the same as it was before the rebellion. Having kids meant losing them one day to the games. I know in the back of mind that it wasn't true, the games were done at least with the districts.

A new game was being made though. One for the capitol kids. Retribution for what the rest of us had endured for seventy-five years. Near deaths because of poor health, starvation, accidents while doing the jobs assigned to each district. Those people never knew what it was like to live that way. Fearing every year you would be reaped next to be in the games and if chosen you were walking to your death. They had the luxury of watching us each year with excitement. Picking who they thought would win and have a good laugh when one of us was killed off. They didn't know how terrifying it was to be in the arena. I wanted them to know. They needed to know how wrong it had been to make us fight to the death. This would be the first and only year that the capitol children would be in the games themselves. They were lucky we had been so kind. The president had decided it would be the same number of kids going in, twenty-four. Twenty-four of them would be chosen to go in and fight to the death. I know I should feel worst for ever voting yes, but my remorse for my own life and my family's was too great to allow me any feelings of guilt. Peeta and I never spoke about it. I knew he was still upset with me for breaking the tie breaker in favour of it happening. I knew where he was coming from but I was my own person and had my own feelings. I couldn't let his opinions play a factor into my own.

I've decided more recently I would stop living in regret for most of the things that have come and past. The main word being, most. I could never truly forgive some of the things that happened. The bomb that killed Prim. Gale. He still hasn't come back to District Twelve. I wonder if he ever will. I wouldn't be able to face him. I don't think he can face me either. I'm fine with that. It would be better if he stayed in District Two. It was where he belonged now.

I smile as I think about all the things I think about during the day. It seems like no matter if I'm awake or asleep my mind was still running a mile a minute. I finally look around, sitting up on the couch that's in our sitting room near the front of the house. We had decided to live in Peeta's house when he came back to District Twelve in the victor's village. The time I had spent by myself in my own house when I first came back had been near unbearable enough. I decided to not pass up the chance to leave it behind when he was the one to offer me a new space that didn't have such painful memories connected to it. There was just too much presence left behind from Prim and my mother.

It was mid afternoon now, Peeta would be home in a few hours. I wondered if I should do something. The house was spotless, I had cleaned this morning after Peeta left to go to the bakery. I hated being at home alone. Usually I went out to the woods to catch game, but I hadn't been feeling too well today and decided to stay home. I still had some game from yesterday in the icebox that we could use for dinner tonight. Peeta was usually the one who cooked, I would do the small things that didn't involve me really handling the cooking part of the meal. I found out I burn things a lot.

I look around the spacious room once more, my eyes staring past the room, into another memory. Peeta and I had been curled together in our bed a few days ago when he asked if we were a couple. I had thought that was obvious, with everything we shared, with the many times a day I would tell him I loved him, that by now there would be no questions. We kissed and we would caress each other's skin on odd occasions, not that it went any further than that. We were both inexperienced in that part of adulthood, neither of our parents had really explained much of what a man and woman do when they are together and after they marry. They had said that we would find out when that time came. I was merely confused at the time when my mother had told me that. I knew little of it, most of it being that it involved being naked, bare and there was a lot of touching. Such things scared me more than most things did. Yet that night, Peeta seemed some reassurance again. I had caressed his cheek with the palm of my hand as I whispered to him that we were. And again I told him once more that I loved him. It was really the only thing I was good at saying without screwing up. We both knew he was the one who had a way with words, not me. I felt his cheeks puff a bit as he smiled to me in the dark. He never said any more that night. But I had been confused at why he would ask me that now.

I come back to my current surroundings and decide I need to get out of the house, sickness be damned, I needed out of this stuffy house. I grab my heavy winter jacket off the coat rack by the door and tie my boots up on my feet. Winter in the seam was awful. It was always cold and there was always so much snow. I decided I would go to the Hub, which had been newly built and this time legal, and stop at Greasy Sae's for some stew and apologize for not bringing some more game for her to use for her meals. She had understood when I had told her about not feeling well. I figured on my way back I would stop at the bakery and wait for Peeta to finish up so we could walk home together. I guess I should get two stews then, skip eating at Greasy Sae's today. She had been one of the few who had been at the District when I returned but it was nice. We had always gotten along well back in the day and having her there when I came back was almost like having a mother around to depend on. She had said the words that comforted me during my time alone. Words that had almost sounded like a mother's. I talked to her as I waited for the food, she asked me how I was doing, told me to make sure to keep eating properly as I looked like I had lost weight again and then asked how Peeta was doing. She was one of the few I confided in about Peeta's hijacking from the capitol and she had hugged me that day as I cried for the first time since Prim's death. She didn't say anything, just stroked my hair and my back, giving me that bit of warmth I had long forgotten. That had happened about a month after my return.

I told her I would make sure to bring lots of game for her tomorrow to make up for today before saying goodbye, making my way to Peeta's bakery. It was only about a five minute walk from the Hub and I could smell the tantalizing aroma of fresh bread in the air. I almost thought of buying a fresh loaf but tomorrow was Saturday and that always means that's the day Peeta stays home with me and bakes me my favourite treats, one of them being his bread loafs. I was always simple that way and I enjoyed it. As I step in I notice he's not out front. One of his workers is working on the display case by the register and notices I've come in. I don't visit often, maybe once or twice a month at best. But everyone knows me. The Mockingjay. Their light in the dark times. I nod at them as they ask if I'm looking for Peeta. I wait for them to go to the back to let him know I'm here. I'm sure I've surprised him as he steps out to the front, flour covers his apron and he's got a bit stuck in his hair. I'd giggle if I wasn't in public. I'm not comfortable with much displays in public. It probably has to do with my time in front of cameras and acting for the whole of Panem to see me. He smiles at me and I give a small smile back, he tells me he'll be done in about twenty minutes if I don't mind waiting. I tell him not to worry, I was in no rush. He asks if I'm feeling better and I shake my hand in a so-so gesture. He nods and says he won't be long as he makes his way to the back. I sit at one of the small tables by the window and stare out. I hadn't noticed before, but I was quite tired. My eyes felt heavy. I set my bag with our lunch on the chair across from me, fold my arms on the table and lay my head on them. Shutting my eyes against the sunlight that was reflecting off the snow, drifting off before I had a chance to stop it.