First Day of My Life
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to Suzanne Collins and her amazing book, The Hunger Games.
Authors Note: This is a short one-shot of my take on the end of Mockingjay.
The nightmares never ceased to overtake me, not even ten years after the end of the war. Faces of those who died would flash through them, haunting me. Those who died at my hands, like Cato and Glimmer, would silently stare at me. Those of whom I couldn't prevent from dying like my father, Prim, and Finnick would scream my name for help. The faces of lost children I could not save would swim behind my closed eyes.
But eventually there was Peeta, enveloping me in his embrace, calming my fears and assuring me everything was alright, that everything was over.
The first time he came to my rescue he had fallen asleep in one of the chairs downstairs and I had left him for my own bed. He must have heard me screaming, for the sound of his quick heavy steps on the stairs had woken me just in time to see him open the door. He stood there, staring at me.
"Nightmare?" He said simply as he walked over to my bed, kneeling before it. "I get them too. What was it about?"
So I told him, as I had told him what they were about on the train. Then I scooted over and he crawled into my bed, holding me to keep the night terrors away. It worked for us both: he calmed me when I woke from mine, and when he woke from his seeing me reassured him that I either wasn't dead or wasn't a mutt.
Weeks went by with him sleeping in my bed to calm me. Then one night, I awoke to him silently watching me, his clear blue eyes showing the same feeling they had shown in the arena. I silently pressed my lips to his, knowing he was the one I needed. I needed his serenity and the way he made everything better. It didn't surprise me that the insatiable hunger that overtook me the night in the Quarter Quell on the beach returned. Nothing stopped me from going further until Peeta would pull away and make me try to go back to sleep.
One full year after our return to District 12, I was shaken awake by him. I had been saying his name in my sleep while I was watching him die over and over again. He held me as I told him what it was about, but even his arms couldn't stop my shaking. After I stopped talking he started kissing my face all over, as if urgently trying to make me realize he was still there, that no one had killed him. As I stopped shaking he took my face in his hands and kissed me, then whispered:
"You love me. Real or not real?"
I knew the answer before he even finished the question. It had always been Peeta. He was the one I needed, not Gale. I needed Peeta to tell me that there was still good in the world, that there would always be more good to come. So without any hesitation I replied:
"Real."
He kissed me again and said "I love you, Katniss."
And I whispered back, "I love you too, Peeta."
It wasn't the first day of my life, but it was the first day of my real life with Peeta Mellark, the boy with the bread who had saved me more times than I could count.