A/N~So I've never written a non-Harry Potter fanfiction so I would love your feedback!
Disclaimer: All the characters and major plot points are from The Hunger Games
It had been raining for days, but the mood in the cave was not one of despair. They might have been in a game that was created to kill them off and prove the power of the Capitol, and they might have been fighting for their lives against people who had been trained for this moment since they were born, but Katniss and Peeta had something the others didn't. They had hope. They had love. And they had reasons other than pride to win.
Katniss lay curled up next to Peeta, resting her head on the gentle slope of his shoulder, and counting the seconds between rumbles of thunder. The cave had a wet and musty feel to it, but it was too dangerous to try and find a dryer place to rest. Although she was getting restless, she knew Peeta was too weak to even walk to the entrance of the cave. Peering up at him, she watched as his eyes behind his eyelids flicked back and forth. She could only imagine what he was dreaming of, and as his face contorted into a pained expression she felt it necessary to retrieve him from the world of dreams.
"Peeta…Peeta…wake up," she murmured softly. Everything they had done for the past few days had been quietly, they ate quietly, talked quietly, devised plans quietly, everything had to be done quietly so that they would not be found.
Peeta groaned a little and shifted towards Katniss, snuggling a little closer, maybe because of lack of heat in his body, or maybe because he could sense she was there.
"Peeta…wake up."
"Mph!" Peeta groaned as his eyelids flickered open, and he saw Katniss staring at him. "What's the time?"
"Daylight I think," Katniss responded, looking out the small opening of the cave to the stormy, gray sky beyond.
They never knew the actual time anymore, they had been guessing based off of sunlight in the arena; however, recently because of the rainstorms they had only been able to take a faint speculation as to what the time actually was.
Time didn't even really matter in the arena. They only asked because it reminded them of something normal, it was something stable that they could hold on to. The Capitol took them away from their family, their home, their district, and their life, but they couldn't take time from them. They could speed up the time they had left to live, but seconds, and minutes, and days were the same. There was still one time that they were experiencing that their family was also experiencing.
Peeta sat up and stretched, rubbing his back which had been uncomfortably positioned against the stone wall of the cave.
"Have there been any new…you know…" Peeta questioned.
"No, nothing new."
They hated asking about death now. At the beginning of the games, multiple people died per day. It was okay then because they didn't know any of them. By the time Rue died every death was a stab to the heart, a twist in the wrench, nothing was the same.
Every person that died was one more person that you wouldn't have to kill. One more person that wouldn't be able to return to their family with the title of Victor. One more person that was like you: alone, helpless, and dead.
Peeta and Katniss may not actually be dead, but they felt it sometimes. Of course they had each other, they were in love, and they had hope, but they were stuck in an arena fighting to the death against people their age. They couldn't possibly feel normal.
"How long was I asleep for?"
"Not long, I don't think," Katniss said, not meeting Peeta's gaze. Although they hadn't really known each other for long, Peeta had some way of knowing whenever Katniss was lying.
"How long Katniss?" Peeta asked, sounding strained.
"Since last night."
"Why didn't you wake me up? You need to sleep!"
"You need it more! You need to heal, you need to be healthy."
"What, I need to be healthy so that I can die?" Peeta said darkly.
"Don't say that." Katniss murmured, she hated when Peeta said things like that. He was supposed to be the one with hope; she was the cynical one, not him.
"I'm sorry," Peeta said quietly, gazing into Katniss' eyes. He began stroking her cheek, and without knowing it, her eyelids began to flutter closed. "Sometimes…it just…gets to me."
"I know it happens to me too. How can it not?"
"But we can both win this. Together." Peeta said his normal hopeful tone back.
"Yes…" Katniss said slowly. She hated to think it, but the likelihood of Peeta winning a fight against anyone was unlikely. That meant that she would have to be the one to kill for them.
She was strangely resigned to the fact by that time. If she wanted to get her and Peeta out alive, then she would have to kill again.
"Katniss…please don't look like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you don't have hope."
"Do you?"
"Of course," Peeta said, nodding as if it was obvious.
"How?"
"Because I have you. Because I know that with you, nothing bad will happen to either of us. We have to have hope together, Katniss. Or else we won't make it."
Katniss smiled at him. She did love him, she may not be able to be as open about it as he was, but it wasn't all a show. Sure, at first she was acting, she was just trying to save Peeta. But now, now it was real. As real as Katniss had ever felt anything.
"You're…inspiring…" Katniss said smiling at the strange word that had popped into her head.
"Inspiring, really? How so?"
"I'm not sure, that's just what came into my head when I thought of you…"
"Well, that's certainly not what comes into my mind when I think of you," Peeta said.
Katniss didn't know if he was trying to be romantic, or he was just referring to her pessimistic attitude, but it didn't matter. She couldn't help but smile at him.
When talking to Peeta, was the only time she smiled these days. When he was just being plain old Peeta, someone that was easy to talk to, someone you would expect to talk to if you were having a normal conversation in District 12. Not someone you would expect to talk to whilst in the Hunger Games.
He had that ability, to just put everything bad aside, and think of the positive. Think of Katniss, and the end of the Hunger Games, and the idea of two winners, which he was convinced were going to be him and Katniss.
He began stroking Katniss' cheek again, and again her eyes began to flutter shut.
"Go to bed, you haven't gotten a lot of sleep recently."
"No, no, I can't," Katniss murmured, but she was already settling back into the nook of Peeta's shoulder, and she began to get heavier and heavier as sleep overtook her body.
"Sleep well, Katniss Everdeen."
"Stay safe, Peeta Mellark."
They said it every time one of them went to sleep. It was a sad sort of tradition that had been started by Katniss. Just in case one of them wasn't still there when they woke up. Just in case one of them was taken in the clutches of the game.
They said it because they wanted their last words to each other to be of their own accord. They didn't want them to be a strangled goodbye or an "I love you" like the gamemakers loved to see, they wanted it to be something generic of District 12. Something that the Hunger Games weren't about.
It was just like time. It was something that they could connect with, something that was still the same. It was safe, and if they were saying it, so were they.