Author's note: I've just finished reading the Hunger Games trilogy for the first time—in record time—and all I can say is I literally could not stop reading. It's just...perfect!

Anyway, I guess I should get on with the story before I start rambling endlessly about how much I love this whole series. ;)

So, when reading about Peeta waking Katniss from her nightmare in Catching Fire (somewhere on page 89 in the paperback version?), my muse showed me this wonderful scene that I just had to pen down. And that's how this little oneshot ended up here.

Disclaimer: Tragically, I do not own The Hunger Games. ):

Of nightmares and insomnia

Peeta's POV

I lie awake, unable to fall asleep because every time I close my eyes, the nightmares return to haunt me, each more vivid than the last. During the Games, they had been, in a way, easier to manage: I only had to tell myself that it would all be over when the Games end, one way or another. But now, even though we have survived, they still continue to plague my dreams. Whenever I let my eyelids slide shut, I see her—Katniss, stabbed to death by a shrouded figure, getting mauled by muttations, lying lifelessly at my feet in a growing pool of blood while I am frozen by an unseen force, unable to move or even cry out in agony. And then I come to, paralyzed with terror and unable to distinguish between vision and reality.

I hold my head in my hands, groaning in frustration. There I lie, waging yet another losing battle with my thoughts for what feels like forever, when the clock next to my bed chimes once. It is one in the morning. Abandoning the idea of sleep, I climb out of bed, pulling on a shirt as I step out of my compartment. The corridor is dimly lit, and empty. I heave a soft sigh, trudging down the car to look for someone—anyone, in fact, who can keep me occupied until sunrise.

A few cars later, I walk past a door from which a loud snoring is emanating. Haymitch, I think, feeling the corners of my mouth pull up in a thin smile. I used to despise the man for being perpetually inebriated, but now I guess I can finally understand why he tries so hard to drown himself in white liquor whenever he is conscious. It seems much easier to be drunk than to deal with these horrors that will probably never fade…or at least it helps to put you to sleep.

I move on, roaming the train aimlessly. Sleep threatens to overcome me while I move from car to car, desperately waiting for dawn to come. A brief glance out of the window tells me that daylight is still a long time away: the sky is still as dark as ever. Hopelessly, I traipse back and forth to the point that I can no longer recognize the way back to my compartment. My sleep deprived body protests with every step until I finally stumble with my prosthetic leg, crashing down hard on my knees. At least the pain drives my drowsiness away.

I let myself sink to the floor, leaning against the wall and trying not to think about anything at all. It works, provisionally. For a while, my mind is devoid of all thoughts, allowing me to revel in its blankness. And then, suddenly, I am thrown into darkness. Everything starts playing all over again.

I find myself in the woods, running faster than I should possibly manage with an injured leg. I can feel the ominous presence looming behind me, closing the distance between us with my every footfall. I lunge forward, narrowly missing a collision with the thick trunk of a tree, and land in a clearing. As I struggle to my feet, I notice that the threat that had been chasing me has vanished. Instead, I see a figure in the distance, growing bigger as it runs straight for me. I brace myself, searching around for a weapon to defend myself with, when I finally recognize the person running towards me. "Katniss!" I cry out in relief, reaching out to her. She looks at me, respite evident in her beautiful gray eyes. As I take a step forward, a net ensnares her, pulling her to the ground. It is then that I see Cato walking up from behind her with a grim smile of triumph, a long gleaming knife in his hand. Katniss gasps and struggles to free herself. Before I can move, Cato brings his dagger down in a merciless slash. A piercing scream rings out, shattering my heart.

I jolt awake, feeling the erratic drumming of my heartbeat in my chest. Just a nightmare, I tell myself, taking in my surroundings. I am back on the train, but the screaming still resonates in my ears. I give my head a quick shake to drive the residues of the nightmare out of my mind. For a brief moment, all is quiet. Then, I hear another shriek that pierces the silence. It is so full of pain that it hurt to even listen. And so familiar that I would recognize it anywhere.

"Katniss," I whisper, staggering to my feet. I wobble slightly, feeling the circulation rush back to my legs—at least the one that's still made of flesh. My senses come back into focus, and I realize that the scream originates from behind the door I was using to maintain my balance. Without thinking, I yank the door open and dash into the compartment, hearing the door slide shut behind me. It is dark, but I can just make out Katniss' thrashing figure as my eyes quickly adjust.

I cross the room in a few strides, falling to my knees next to her bed. "Katniss," I call softly, giving her a gentle shake. It does no good. She continues to thrash around, screaming so tragically that I feel a stab of pain in my heart.

"Katniss," I call again, gripping her sweating hand in mine. "It's just a dream. You're safe now." My other hand acts on its own accord, pushing a tangled lock of hair from her damp forehead.

Her thrashing stops for a second. It becomes so quiet that I can hear my own heart beating. And suddenly, she lets out another cry.

"No! Peeta!"

I freeze, feeling as though I had just taken a blow to my guts. The terror in her voice incapacitates me. It takes a long time for me to comprehend a simple fact: she is having a nightmare...about me. Is it possible that she might actually care for me?

"Peeta!" she screams again. At the sound of her agonized cry, I snap out of my reverie.

"It's alright, Katniss. I'm here," I whisper, squeezing her hand tightly. "I won't let anything hurt you."

But she continues to writhe, completely deaf to my reassurances. Unable to bear seeing her in such torment, I find myself sitting at the edge of her bed, grasping her shoulders as I try to shake her awake.

"Katniss! Wake up! It's just a nightmare!"

She sits up suddenly with a gasp, almost knocking me over. "Get away from me!" is the only warning I get before she launches herself at me, sending both of us falling to the ground.

"Ouch," I groan, landing painfully on my back. Her raised hand, poised to strike me, lowers as her eyes widen in recognition.

"Peeta?" she asks in disbelief.

"Hey," I say, giving her a weak smile that feels more like a grimace. Silence ensues. I wait for the moment where she begins to scream again—at me, to order me out of her room. Instead, she lets out a whimper and buries her face in my chest, catching me completely off guard yet again.

I pause for a moment, immobilized by uncertainty. She trembles slightly, and so I wrap my arms around her. "Hush. It's okay, sweetheart," I hear myself murmur as my hand slowly traces small circles at the back of her neck.

I continue my soothing susurrations, until her breathing calms and her trembling ceases. Just when I begin to think that she has fallen asleep, she sits up, wiping tears from her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she says.

"What are you apologizing for?" I ask, catching a stray tear rolling down her cheek with my thumb. Surely even someone as strong as Katniss is entitled to a moment of vulnerability?

She hesitates for a second, probably thinking about pulling away from my touch, and then mutters, "For attacking you...and for ruining your shirt."

I laugh genuinely for the first time in days. "I don't mind. For you, it's worth it."

She looks away quietly, avoiding my gaze. Look what you've done again, Peeta, I chide myself silently. Ever since we got back home, I try to avoid bringing up my feelings for her, knowing that it makes her feel uncomfortable. But somehow, in her presence, I am just unable to keep my mouth shut.

"Come on, let's get you back to bed," I say softly, extending a hand to her. She takes it and allows me to pull her to her feet. I tuck her into bed silently and give her a forced smile, "Goodnight Katniss."

"Wait," she blurts out, clinging to my hand tightly just as I turn to leave. "Can…w-will you stay with me?"

The pleading in her gray eyes is unmistakable. And irresistible. She looks more heartrendingly vulnerable than I have ever seen. I consent, and climb in next to her, holding her, whispering soft reassurances until she finally gives in to sleep.

I watch her sleep, listening to the soothing sound of her breathing and caressing her hair until my own eyelids begin to droop. A small voice at the back of my mind tells me that sleeping here would be improper. The voice is probably right. I sigh, kissing Katniss lightly on her forehead before carefully trying to extricate myself from her.

She stirs slightly, and I hold my breath, afraid to move for fear of waking her from what could be a peaceful slumber. Eventually, she calms down and I think I hear a soft sigh escape from her lips. After an eternity, I finally manage to gather the will to leave, but another helpless whimper from her is all it takes to shatter my resolve.

Oh, she still has no idea. The effect she can have on me.

"Katniss, it's alright. I won't leave you," I whisper into her ear. It is difficult to believe that my words can actually pervade her dreams, but somehow her breathing inexplicably settles again.

Perhaps it might be inappropriate for me to be sharing a bed with her, but I suppose I can hardly care about propriety right now. Katniss needs me. I had sworn to protect her at any cost, and I will hold on to that promise for the rest of my life. If my presence can protect her from her nightmares, then I will be here for her as long as she needs me.

And it feels easier too—to face the darkness—when she is here in my arms. When I close my eyes, her warm presence next to me anchors me to reality. For once, I am unafraid to take on my nightmares, knowing that the girl I love will still be next to me when I wake.

Author's note: Squee! Don't you just love how cute Katniss and Peeta are together? :D

I have to confess though, that I was originally Team Gale, and had actually kind of disliked Peeta in the beginning. But somehow, along the way, I just fell in love with the idea of Katniss and Peeta as a couple—just like how Katniss gradually fell in love with Peeta ;) Kudos to Suzanne Collins for being the first writer to successfully convert me from the couple I originally rooted for!

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