DISCLAIMER: I don't own Hunger Games or Save You. They belong to two amazing people named Suzanne Collins and Kelly Clarkson. This is just a little something I came up with yesterday while listening to Pandora. I think this song really fits Katniss and Peeta, so here it is.

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The blinds are closed, but the floor is patterned with white stripes where the moon light made it through the cracks. I take another glance at the clock next to his bed. It's 2:39 in the morning. I'm lying in a hospital bed with my head propped up and Peeta in a restless sleep in my arms. I'm pretty sure we started out with my head on his chest, but I can watch him sleep easier from this angle and I have nothing better to do than that anyways.

I can tell

I can tell how much you hate this

And deep down inside you know it's killing me

I can call

Wish you well and try to change this

But nothing I can say would change anything

Lying with him now, I can't imagine how I could have told him all those months ago that I had been acting. I hate myself for hurting him so much, for letting him walk away from me. I hate that I had to lose him to the Capitol, that he had to be tortured by the evilest man in the world before I could finally realize that I love him But as much as I wish I could go into the past and fix my mistakes, I can't and I know I should just be grateful that he's still alive, and still trusts me.

Where were my senses?

I left them all behind

Why did I turn away?

Away

Peeta stirs a little so I gently stroke his hair a little. I think it relaxes him or something, because I've been able to keep him in this light, feverish sleep for a few hours straight now. He's been home for a little over 24 hours now, but the drugs the Capitol pumped into his body are still very evident in his blood, making it nearly impossible to get him asleep. Physically, he's exhausted. But mentally, it's as if he's had 10 cups of coffee.

I wish I could save you

I wish I could say to you

I'm not going nowhere

I wish I could say to you

It's gonna be alright

It's gonna be alright

But I think I jinxed myself by thinking of how long he's been out, because he reaches up and rubs his eyes and before I can get him back to sleep, his head is up and his beautiful blue eyes are staring into mine. They're glassed over with fever and drugs, but I try my hardest to ignore that fact. "What time is it?" He asks sleepily.

"Too early, go back to sleep" I tell him, but he's not that obedient. He shakes his head and sits up, so I copy him and turn on the light.

"Can I get you anything?" I ask, brushing the soft blonde hair from his face.

"Water" He replies, so I reach over, grab his glass from the bedside table and hand it to him. He drinks from it thirstily and then hands it back to me to put on the table for next time.

Didn't mean

Didn't mean to leave you stranded

Went away cause I didn't want to face the truth

Reaching out

Reach for me

Empty handed

You don't know if I care

You're trying to find the proof

There were times I'd wonder

Could I have eased your pain?

Why did I turn away?

Away

I reach up and feel his forehead. His skin is hot to the touch, but I guess I'd gotten used to it. It's only now that I realize how high his temperature must be. "You're burning up" I whisper.

"No, I'm freezing" He says, gathering up the blankets and wrapping them around himself. I put an arm around his shoulders, but I know that only time can ease the fever and chills. We sit there silently for a moment while I contemplate my choices. But really, I know there's only one.

"Peeta," I say softly, "I'm going to have to call a nurse"

"No" He moans. I know how much he hates being poked and prodded with needles, and I know exactly how he feels, but his fever has gotten too high to ignore.

"I'm sorry, Peeta, your temperature is too high," I say as I press the calling button on the side of the bed. A few moments later, my mom enters the room as quietly as possible. There are other patients sleeping.

"How are you feeling, Peeta?" She asks. He shrugs weakly, so she turns her gaze to me instead.

"His fever has gone up quite a bit," I inform her. She takes out her thermometer and sticks it into his mouth. We wait until it beeps and she pulls it out and frowns at what she sees.

"Almost 104, Peeta, I'm going to have to give you some more medicine."

I wish I could save you

I wish I could say to you

I'm not going nowhere

I wish I could say to you

It's gonna be alright

It's gonna be alright

It's gonna be alright

Save you

It's gonna be alright

I wish I could say to you

I can tell that he hates all of this, but he won't protest in front of my mother, and he's too weak to make a scene anyways. Peeta accepts the pill he's given and takes it with a sip of water. My mother also has to change the needle in his arm. It's the one flushing the poison out his blood, so it has to be in all the time until enough of the drugs are gone. He's developed a new hate, even fear, for needles because he was given so many poisons through them at the Capitol. But he lets all this happen silently, so I make a mental note to repay him later.

"He needs to rest, Katniss," my mother tells me, and I promise her that he will get it. With that, she leaves me alone with him again.

We can pretend nothing's changed

Pretend it's all the same

And there will be no pain, tonight

It's gonna be alright

It's gonna be alright

It's gonna be alright

Save you

It's gonna be alright

I wish I could say to you

I'm not going nowhere

I wish I could say to you

It's gonna be alright

It's gonna be alright

It's gonna be alright

Save you

I wish I could say to you

It's gonna be alright

We're quiet for a while, as I turn out the light and we settle back into bed. The change in his skin temperature is almost immediate. He's already cooled down what seems like 10 degrees. I try to get him to close his eyes, but he insists on playing with my hair. "You need to sleep," I whisper. He doesn't give a reply. "You know, I'm going to get in trouble if they think I'm keeping you up."

This forces an answer out of him. "You're not. Don't leave"

"I won't, don't worry but please try and get some sleep," I say, pushing him to put his head on my shoulder as a pillow. Luckily, he complies with this and wraps his arms around my waist. But a few minutes pass and he's still restless. It's not that he's not trying, but the concoctions that the Capitol mixed up for him are still clouding his system, so I add, "Do you want me to sing to you?"

I can feel him smiling into my shoulder as he answers "Yes". So I begin to sing a soft, sweet lullaby to him, it's one that my father used to sing to me and it always put me right to sleep. Apparently, its sleep spell works on him too because his eye lids begin to droop and he doesn't fight them. Within a minute or two, his breathing has slowed and his body has relaxed into my arms.

"I love you," I whisper, though I know he can't hear me, he knows it already. I kiss the top of his blonde head and he sighs my name in his sleep. I wonder if maybe he's only half asleep, so I take extra caution to be still for him. It's then when I realize how good it feels to hold him again. You really don't know how much you need someone until they're gone and, right before I allow myself to drift off; I promise to him that I'll never let that happen again.

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Review...pretty please with a cherry on top?