I have no idea if anyone even remembers Forever Until, but this drabble was something I wrote to help myself unwind from a long writing hiatus, and it seemed counter-productive not to share it with anyone. The feedback on Forever Until blew me away, so thank you always. This is set a few months after Peeta's death.

In Dreams

Last night I'd dreamt, with startling clarity, that I woke and found him next to me in the bed, warm and alive, no trace of the cool sheets that had been on his side for months. Solid but soft, a weight that clenched and relaxed with each breath and had a warm grip around my heart.

I saw everything perfectly, each hair shifting on the pillow as he stirred and turned his head to look at me. His eyes were bright and tired, but he was the picture of health, and at the time it was realer than anything real, and his death had melted away through the gaps between my fingers like water; I didn't even try to hold onto them. Those last few, horrible weeks. I spat on them and let them go. Good riddance.

"Is it morning?" he asked, his voice low with sleep. It was dark, so I shook my head; no. "Good. I don't want to leave."

I felt desperate. I couldn't remember why, but I felt it; every part of me screaming to keep him there. "Then don't. Stay with me today."

He grunted, falling back to sleep. I shook him a little to keep him awake. I remembered him too well, I think, because he huffed and moved away from the disruption. Away from me.

I rolled over too, feeling the heat of his back so close to my own, closed my eyes once, twice, and his voice was next to my ear, clear and awake. It was playful. "You can't manage a few hours without me, can you?"

I grinned and twined my fingers with his where they rested against my stomach. I noted that I was a few months pregnant with a kind of absent minded acceptance. Something inside me gave a twinge, and I didn't realise that his hand had found its way into my underwear and it felt so good; it felt like the first touch in months, years, decades. But it couldn't be; we'd made love the night before –

And I woke to cool sheets under my fingers, and tears running down my face before I had time to realise that I felt sad. There was an ache between my legs that was so unwanted, it might as well have been pain. I twisted the sheets between my thighs and clamped my legs down, and stuffed the corner of a pillow into my mouth so stop the sobs from coming out and waking the kids.

Between the curtains, I could see the first light of morning.

He couldn't stay.