So here is a Mockingjay fanfic! Please comment as it took me over three months to get this chapter perfect :D The story takes place a little after Mockingjay ends. Go out and do a volunteer servicetoday to remember the victims of 9/11.

Chapter 1: Healing

I sit on the edge of my bed, frozen in fear of what Gale had told me just minutes before.

Peeta is dead.

My mind swishes with memories of him. Our first kiss, that day when he tossed me the bread, his beautiful paintings- especially the one of Rue, the way his hands always found mine, those nights when he would come into the cabin on the train and sleep with his arms around me when my nightmares were too much to handle alone, that night on the beach when I wanted more of him than ever before, our desperate kisses in the cave, the way his hands could decorate cakes, cookies, and more, his beautiful blue eyes, his strength…

I draw my knees close and cry out.

They try to feed me but I reject even the most delicious of foods.

I squirm on our bed, the one I shared with Peeta after the Capitol made us get married. And now he's gotten himself killed.

He and I both knew it was a bad idea for him to start speaking in the other districts now that the Capitol had been overthrown. I'd told him to stay home until our baby was born, but he said he had to get out there and make a difference. So I let him go.

And now he's dead because of it.

After a week of mourning, I start to feel a little better.

Every morning Gale comes in to see how I'm doing. At 24 he's still handsome and strong but he could never replace Peeta.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, rubbing my back with the palm of his large but gentle hand.

I just nod.

"Are the babies okay?"

Before Peeta left I thought I was going to have just one kid, but it turned out I was having twins- one boy and one girl. I already had names for them, Cinna and Rue.

"I hope," I reply, leaning into Gale for support.

"Want to take a walk around? We don't have to go far. If you get tired, let me know and I'll bring you back."

"Okay," I say, struggling to stand while holding Gale's arm. His arms remind me of Peeta; the way his arms wrapped around me, making me feeling loved and safe.

I take Gale's hand as I step out of our little house.

We walk around for a while then I retreat back into my room.

I am brought food on a silver platter and for the first time in days, I eat all of it.

The seasons change without my knowledge. Before I know it, Gale is escorting me down hallways toward a big dining room. It's Christmas.

The town square has been turned into a zoo. People rush here and there bringing food to their friends' houses, singing carols, and building snowmen.

I stand near my old house, or what is left of it.

After looking at the old place a little longer, I head over to the victors' houses and walk up the steps of the house Peeta and I used to live in.

An empty bottle of beer lay by the entrance. I kick it aside and walk into the kitchen. Everything looks the same, except it's covered in a thick layer of dust. As soon as I sit down on a chair in the living room, a cloud of dirt engulfs me.

I don't stop the tears when they come.

This house had too many memories of Peeta and the happy moments we shared together. I couldn't let it be taken from me.

I dry my tears a few minutes later, and look up to see Gale standing in front of me.

The smell of fresh cotton and soap fill my senses as he wraps me in a hug. I lay my head on his chest and cry.

When I awaken, the sky outside is dark. I'm lying on my old bed in the victor's house, Gale sleeping on a chair next to me.

I draw my legs to my chest and rest my chin on my knees. If only things could be like the forever, just sitting in my bedroom and forgetting about all the damage the Capitol has done to us.

Gale's eyes flutter open.

"I'm fine now, thanks for staying. I don't know what I would've done without you," I say, straightening up.

He nods and bends over to kiss me on the forehead.

Heat engulfs my face. Why does he charm me so much, even though I still love Peeta?

"You hungry?" Gale asks, breaking my train of thought.

"Yes, I'm starving," I reply, swinging my legs over the bed.

"Stay here, you don't need to be moving around. I'll go buy something," Gale reaches into his pocket and pulls out some coins.

"Use my money," I insist. "The flour can downstairs has a wad of cash in the bottom. It should be enough."

He grunts and shuts the door behind him.

"You need to see a doctor, for the babies' sake," Gale tells me, aware that I look thinner than usual.

I nod as I finish my last bit of warm lamb stew.

He helps me down the stairs after telling me the importance of keeping the babies healthy.

I put on my nice, warm winter coat and follow Gale to the hospital two blocks down.

The new, white hospital building still looks odd after living here all my life. When District 12 had been blown to bits, we had to start re-building somewhere and the hospital was the first to be finished.

Gale checks me in and tells me he'll be back to pick me up in an hour.

I sit in the waiting room, people around me giving me sympathetic looks. I look down, one word ringing in my head over and over.

Peeta. My heart breaks for him. The name of the person I'll always be in love with, no matter what anyone else says. If only he'd stayed home that warm summer day six months ago. First it was Prim who'd died, then mother, and now Peeta. And all of this happened because we rebelled when Peeta and I were going to eat the berries. If I could change what had happened, there would still be a Peeta, Prim, and mother in the world.

A nurse calls my name and I follow her to a room in the back. Everything is white- the floor, the walls, the table, the chairs. Too white for my liking.

The way the nurse takes my temperature, blood pressure, and x-ray reminds me of who Prim could've become.

I try to put my emotions behind me and focus on what the doctor says when he arrives.

"So, there is good news and bad news, which do you want to hear first?" he asks, holding a clipboard in his hands.

"I'll take the good," I reply, my heart quickening over what the bad news was going to be.

"You are doing extremely well," he says, trying to force a smile, "but the babies are, well, how should I put this?"

How'd you like it? If you have time, please leave a comment! As always, have a great day.