CHAPTER 1: AFRAID

I don't own the Hunger Games but I am envious that the magnificent Suzanne Collins does : )

I woke up screaming again. Even the space of four years could not erase the nightmares that the Hunger Games gave me. Peeta laid there next to me, running his hand along my arm, soothingly.
"Mutts?" he asked me. He had the uncanny ability to guess what my nightmares were about. Usually he guessed right, like the terror in eyes or the pitch of my scream somehow tipped him off. But today he was wrong.
"No, it wasn't the mutts," I whispered. I rolled over and gazed into his blue eyes. His blond hair was a mess but he was still handsome. I knew he would ask if I didn't tell him, so I continued, "This one was about you…"
"Oh," he said quietly. Usually when I dreamt about him I would lie and tell him some other reason for my nightmare. Every dream about Peeta ended with his death. This he knew so he didn't press for further details.
I felt that all too familiar roll in my stomach and I knew I was going to be sick. Not wanting to worry him just yet, I kissed Peeta softly and then walked to the bathroom. There was no hiding it at this point so I didn't try to be quiet as I lost the contents of my stomach. It had been like this almost every morning for the past three weeks. I knew what he was thinking, and I also knew that he was right. I rinsed out my mouth and brushed my teeth before I left the bathroom. As I walked back to our bed, Peeta looked at me with worried, knowing eyes.
"Katniss…" he murmured in my direction. He sat up and held out his arms. I walked straight to the bed and curled up in his embrace. He held me close and waited for me to speak. My eyes stung with the tears that I knew I could no longer hold back. There was no way to deny the future now.
"I'm so scared Peeta," I sobbed into his chest. "How can we bring a child into a world like this? How can we subject them to the same tortures we've had to live through?" There was next to no hope left in the world. How could I hope to raise a child in it?
"You're sure?" He asked very seriously.
"Yes, I talked to my mother about it and I went to see a doctor yesterday. I'm farther in than I thought…"
"How far?" He asked, sounding a bit surprised.
"Ten weeks," I admitted. His eyebrows shot up in sure surprise. I knew he was more excited than he was letting on. He'd wanted a baby since we got married three years ago. But he knew that the very idea of having children terrified me to the very core, so he was patient. Patient, and very supportive. He proved his love for me daily by respecting my fears. But all bets were off now, I was pregnant.
I took a deep breath and let a small smile spread across my face. Despite my crippling fear, a small part of me was excited to be a mother. I let Peeta see this joy and he began to smile more widely. He took my face in his hands, looked me in the eyes and said,
"Katniss, you have to know that I am just as scared as you about all of this. But despite it all, I am so happy! You make me so proud. Do you have any idea how much I love you?" His smile was so big I was sure his face could have cracked. He laid me back down then, carefully placing my head on a pillow and kissed me. He kissed my lips, my nose, my eyes; he trailed kisses down my neck and back up my jaw line. Then I lost all notions of time and space and gave myself up to him. This man whom I loved more than anything. This man who made me feel so safe and happy and confident.

As I made dinner that night, I remembered for the millionth time the days that I had waited to know if Peeta was alive after the Quarter Quell. I learned so many things about myself in those two weeks it took to get him out of the arena. As I waited for any news, any at all, Gale was always by my side. He held me as I cried out of fear and out of anger. He listened as I ranted and yelled about unfair politics. But I realized that it was not his embrace that I craved, it was Peeta's. I noticed that it was not Gale I dreamt about all night long, it was Peeta. Gale heard, as did anyone within hearing range, that it was not his name I screamed as I awoke night after night from the terrifying nightmares. It was Peeta's.
The day that they finally brought Peeta to District Thirteen, I was relieved and mortified at the same time. I watched as they rushed him into the makeshift hospital. He was bruised and bloody. A gash over his left eye was deep red and swollen with infection. His right arm was twisted at an awkward angle that I knew meant it was broken. I could see that he took only shallow, sporadic breaths. The doctors wouldn't let me in to see him for days. They said he was conscious, but delirious with pain and a fever that they couldn't seem to control. They feared that the apparent infection over his eye had spread throughout his body. I hardly slept and ate nothing as I waited for the call to tell me that Peeta was dead. Finally the call came, but the voice on the other end was not telling me that he was dead. His fever had broken. He was awake and was asking for me.
I wasted no time in getting to the hospital and fell to the side of his bed in tears. I apologized for being such a stubborn, bull-headed girl and told him with all the feeling I could muster that I loved him more than anything. He understood what I meant as I struggled to make the words come out right. He took my hand and held it for a long time.

He came up behind me then, wrapping his arms around my middle, letting one hand rest on my stomach.
"I love you Katniss Everdeen Mellark." He whispered into my ear. I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent. The moment was perfect. Then we heard a knock on the front door.