Nightmares and dreams.

A/N: Hey Hunger Games fans! This is my first HG fic. I recently saw the movie (which is amazing), and I'm going through a HG phase.

So let me set the scene. This is set after Mockingjay. The Rebellion government has fallen and another power has taken over control. They aren't as terrible as Snow's regime- allowing some freedoms like travel and access to the resources that each district collects. However, this new power has brought back the Hunger Games however, but this time Capitol children must also participate. They don't care much about Peeta and Katniss and their roles in the Rebellion, leaving them to their lives, but making them mentor the tributes from 12. Oh and yes, Peeta and Katniss are married.

Please enjoy and review!

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Chapter 1:

"No Katniss! Come back! Where are you? Please come back! Where are you!"

Peeta's terrified pleas wake me with a start. The morning light filters through the translucent curtains and I see him trashing around in the bed, his face contorted into a scared frown. He reaches out his arm and gives a pained cry, even in this weak light, I can see a tear rolling down his cheek.

Even though my nights are plagued with nightmares just as bad, its always worse when I see Peeta experiencing his own. I hate it, I hate seeing him like this. My heart aches when I hear his terrified cries as he screams out, sometimes it's to ward off the muttations or tracker-jackers that hunt him, but mostly it's for me, he cries out to me. Those cries are sharper than any arrow. I sit up in the bed and gently shake his arm, trying to rouse him.

"Peeta!" I exclaim, squeezing his arm tightly "wake up! Wake up!"

He wakes up with a gasp, sitting up and breathing heavily, his forehead shiny with sweat. When he looks at me, I can see the fear plainly in his eyes.

"Katniss", he whispered gently, looking me over as if trying to establish whether I am real or not.

"It was just a dream", I tell him soothingly, resting one hand on his upper arm and the other on his thigh "everything is fine, you were just dreaming".

"I was stuck in the Cornucopia" he whispered fearfully, "I was stuck inside and I could hear wolves howling", he chokes on a sob, threatening to escape him. "You were screaming somewhere in the distance, you were screaming my name and I didn't know what to do!".

I pull him into a hug and he rests his head on my shoulder as he erupts into heavy violent sobs. This has become a nightly occurrence for the past couple of weeks. I don't know what's brought it on, but his nightmares have been increasing in intensity, always ending with tears. It pains me to be so helpless. The only thing I can do is wake him, pull him from the terror, back into the real world, and comfort him when he cries.

"It was just a dream" I whisper, stroking his blond hair, hugging him tighter. "Nothing has happened, I'm still here, I'm ok".

He pulls away and nods, sniffling as he wipes the tears from his eyes. His shirt is wet with sweat and his hands still tremor as he raises his arm to readjust his metal leg. I rise from the bed and walk over until I am standing in front of him.

"C'mon" I hold out my hand to him, giving him a gentle loving smile "let's get you cleaned up". He takes my hand and I lead him into the adjoining bathroom. He pulls of his soaked shirt and pants and steps into the small shower while I get him a towel and lay out clothes for him. Apart from these little things, I feel helpless. There is nothing else I can do for him. Nightmares aren't curable, especially not for victors. Nightmares come with the title, a plague that haunts any winner. They are always worse leading up to the Games. Peeta hates having to mentor tributes. It is his good, pure heart and his loving nature that makes it worse- he hates seeing the children die. Every year, he becomes close to the two District 12 tributes and every year, he must watch them die. Over the years, the nightmares have become a ritual.

It's two weeks before this year's Reaping. Every time a child enters the bakery, I can see Peeta go white with anxiety. Is this the child he will watch die this year? Is this the child he will send to their deaths. I don't discuss it with him because he just ends up in a rage, instead I hug him, comfort him with kisses and caresses and it seems to work. I feel his heart slow down and his muscles relax- well until the next child walks in. It is a bakery after all.

"Katniss?" Peeta calls out quietly.

"I'm in here" I reply, walking over to the bathroom door with a loving smile. He has put on the fresh clothes and his blonde hair is dripping with water as he looks up at me. I still see the distress in his blue eyes. Reaching up, I take his face in my hands, using my thumbs to rub his cheeks, I look deeply into his eyes, searching them.

"Everything is ok" I tell him firmly. "I'm fine. Nothing has happened to me and nothing will. It will all be ok!"

"I know" he whispers, looking down at the floor "but it always seems so…real. It just makes me think it's happening. That you're in danger".

In reply, I sigh and pull him into a tight hug. I don't know what else to do. We both know that drugs do not work- prolonging the nightmares. If the roles were reversed, I know Peeta would do the same for me- comfort me and protect me. This is how we cope, simply embrace and try and push past the pain.

"I don't want to do it anymore Katniss" he sighed heavily, pulling away and looking down at his hands.

"Do what?" I raise an eyebrow.

"I don't want to be a mentor, I don't want to have to teach those children how to die".

"We're not doing that!" I tell him.

"Yes we are" he replies plainly, "we are simply send them off to their deaths. After us, there haven't been any District 12 victors, none have survived past the first night".

I cannot reply. I do not know what to say- partly because what he is saying the absolute truth. Peeta and I were an exception, without each other, we wouldn't have won our Games. Yes, District 12 have always been the underdogs of the Games, but even after we were made famous, our District hasn't been able to pull up a decent tribute to win. But I'm also stumped because I have never heard Peeta so defeated. That is usually my role. He is the strong and optimistic one, he manages to see the positive in almost any situation. The Games have taken their toll on him. It's like Haymitch, a man who became so defeated and overwhelmed by the effect of the Games that he turned to alcohol to help him through the pain, to help him live another day. I fear for Peeta. That the horror and terror of the Games will take him away from me. That one day, he will wake up, not the same person.

Peeta senses this change in me and squeezes my hand, giving me a weak smile.

"C'mon" he tells me, standing "we better get going" he pulls me up.

"Are you sure you're ok?" I look deep into his bright blue eyes, giving him a look of concern.

He gives a breezy laugh and nods slightly "Don't worry about me Mrs Mellark, I'll be just fine".

My heart seems to settle and I give a nod. I always relax when he calls me 'Mrs Mellark', I never get sick of hearing it, it's something that I love listening to, it just rolls off the tongue…Mrs Mellark….Mrs Mellark.

Peeta reaches out and tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear and strokes my cheek before leaning in and planting a small kiss on the tip of my nose.

"I love you" he whispers.

"I love you" I tell him.

Now, that's something I'll never get sick of hearing.

…..

Waking up, I immediately feel nauseous. My head is spinning and my stomach feels like its sitting in my throat, ready to make an appearance at any given moment.

I turn and see Peeta lying on his side, a slight frown pasted on his features, his blond hair ruffled, evidence he has been tossing and turning during the night. Every so often, he opens his mouth and murmurs some inaudible words. I decide to let him be and slowly rise from the bed, my head immediately starting to throb in intolerable pain. I reach out and lean on the nearest solid surface, which I see to be a nightstand. I don't know what has brought this on and I stumble over to the bathroom before emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet. But because my stomach is empty, sickly green bile rises, leaving a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. Slowly standing, I walk over to the sink and gargle with a large glass of water. My head still hurts, but I feel slightly relieved after throwing up. As I walk back into the bedroom, I see Peeta starting to stir and as I sit down, he looks up at me and smiles slightly.

"Morning" he says gently.

"Morning" I sigh, lying back down on the bed.

"Are you ok?" he asks, the worry immediately filling his voice.

"Just feeling a little green", I reply, resting a palm on my forehead. "I just threw up and my head is spinning", I explain closing my eyes.

"What is it?" he asks, propping himself up on his side, reaching out and stroking my hair gently, "do you want me to get you something? Fetch the doctor?".

Letting out a small laugh, I turn to him with a smile "I'll be alright, I was munching on some bark yesterday while out hunting, I don't think its agreeing with my stomach".

"Ok" he nods slowly, unconvinced with my response "how about you stay in bed today and I'll go fetch the doctor for you".

"I'm fine!" I tell him with a smile, slapping away his hand playfully. "It's probably just a one day stomach bug thing".

Taking my hand and giving it a small kiss he nods and gets up, ripping off his pyjamas and dressing himself in his work shirt and pants.

"I have to get into the bakery" he explains ruefully "if you need anything, no matter how small or stupid, call me, I'll be here in heartbeat!" he tells me firmly, but I can feel the loving concern in his tone.

"I know" I whisper, nodding.

He walks over and plants a small kiss on my lips before turning and walking out. As I watch him leave I smile contently to myself, grateful to have such a loving man in my life. My stomach? Not so much. I barely make it to the toilet before the bile makes its reappearance.

A couple of hours later, I'm walking towards the small doctor's office in town. Each district has been granted two doctors after the new government came to power. Apart from bringing back the Games, they actually seem to care about the people of Panem- well to some extent. Today its Doctor Messah, and he gives me a small smile as I enter the small surgery he's been assigned. Its empty, so he ushers me into his small examination room straight away, showing me to the seat opposite his desk.

"How are you today, Mrs Mellark?" he asked, settling down and looking at me through his glasses.

I explain to him my lovely morning vomiting ordeal, not forgetting to mention the dizzy spells.

He frowns slightly, doing all sorts of tests, I assume he's taking my temperature as he sticks something into my ear. Then he pulls out a weird looking contraption and presses it to my chest, and I can hear the steady sound of my heartbeat as its projected out from the thing.

He sighs and sits down, I can see the perplexity in his eyes. He looks down at my notes and sighs again.

"You don't know what it is, do you?" I smile wryly.

"Everything seems normal!" he exclaims, shrugging his shoulders.

Now it is my turn to sigh, I can feel my stomach begin to turn again…..

"There is only one thing I can think of…" Dr Messah speaks after a moment of awkward silence.

I raise my eyebrows expectantly at him.

He clears his throat before crossing his arms and leaning onto the table in front of him, embarrassment flashing in his dark eyes.

"When was the last time you….", he sighs heavily…..."bled".

My eyes open wide in bewilderment. In fact I hadn't really been focusing on that. With all these issues going on with Peeta, and just our busy lives in general, it's just drifted to the back of my mind. Dr Messah picks up on my hesitation and smiles knowingly.

"Mrs Mellark" he grins "I think you might be pregnant".

Well that's the first chapter folks! Let me know what you thought!