Gale didn't tell me when he'd be arriving in District Twelve. In fact, he hadn't even told me when he'd be leaving his new home. I suppose we'd both been too wrapped up in our pain to really think about it, but now I wish that we had. I wish that we'd made plans on the phone, because now I'm dying to know how much longer I'll need to be alone.

My arms are wrapped securely around my knees, close to my chest, but they still can't block out the aching. The heavy weight in my heart hasn't been released in months, and now it's starting to drive me to insanity. The feeling is like my heart is holding up a ton of bricks on its own, and it's struggling to stay standing. Struggling to keep fighting, because it's so close to falling that its hope is almost completely gone.

My hope was nearly gone, too. But my trip to the Seam had reignited something in me. Maybe it was a long-lost spark, or maybe it was just a feeling of having Prim closer to me, but it's reminded me of how I felt before she was gone. It reminded me of how my heart would start beating faster, my palms would become sweaty, and my face would twist into its familiar look of determination. This was how I'd felt when I had Prim to protect, when I had something amazing to fight for.

I'd though it was gone forever. But now, I have Gale to fight for.

Despite my burst of determination I'd felt a second ago, though, I start to feel myself trembling again. I can't stay here much longer, not without him.

"Don't worry, Catnip. I'll be there soon, and you won't have to be alone anymore." Gale's words pass through my head again, and my breathing becomes more even. I've been sitting here by the window for hours on end, just wondering when I'll be able to breathe properly again. My chest is still being squeezed, and the air that is supposed to be coming evenly from my lungs is coming roughly. It stings.

For a moment I consider going over to Haymitch's house and taking some of his alcohol. I remember how it'd felt to be drunk from the time after the Quarter Quell was announced. It feels like so long ago, but I can still remember the buzzing in my ears, the drowsiness in my head... Also the complete and utter simplicity of everything around me. I wasn't as scared as I had been an hour before; I wasn't as worried as I had been an hour before. My senses were hightened, but my emotions were clogged. It had been wonderful. Up until morning, anyway.

The thought is only considered for a second before I remember how much vomiting I'd had to endure, not to mention the horrible headache. And what if Gale had come here to find me like that, drunk and hungover?

No. It's out of the question.

So instead, I wander aimlessly through the house until I reach the couch. I hadn't realized it until now, but I'm actually exausted. It must be from everything that's happened today, and how different it was from the past five months. Either way, I fall into a heavy sleep almost as soon as I lie down.

I'm lying in the Meadow. The ground next to me is shaded by the trees overtop of me, but I still need to squint my eyes away from the sun. It's blinding, almost more so than usual.

I lie peacefully for a while, basking in the warmth and serenity of the afternoon. I think of mundane things, like singing and cooking and animals. I don't remember why, but it's been a while since I've felt this kind of peace, this kind of carelessness.

"What are you doing?" The voice snaps me out of my reverie. It's angry and loud, and I look around alarmingly, trying to find the source of it. All I can see are the endless trees surrounding the meadow and the occasional forest animals crawling up and around them. I can't see anyone.

Movement in my peripheral vision makes me jump around. My heart is beating uncontrollably now, so loudly that I'm afraid my attacker will be able to hear it. "W-who are you?" I ask, and am horrified to hear that my voice shakes. Since when am I, Katniss Everdeen, afraid of a stranger? This person has done nothing in the past to scare me, so why should I be now?

Once again, there's nothing in sight. Whoever this person is, they hide well. They must be jumping from tree to tree, trying to unnerve me. Unfortunately, it seems to be working fairly well.

I clear my throat and try to calm the hot, boiling fear in the pit of my stomach. There's nothing to be afraid of, I tell myself. But I'm not convinced, not with somebody out there, purposely trying to traumatize me.

I close my eyes and clear my throat again. "Show yourself," I say fiercely. My voice echos loudly through the forest and meadow, making some nearby squirels scatter away.

The voice doesn't answer. Instead, a knife soars through the meadow and before I have time to duck or defend myself, it's sliced clean across my forehead. The pain is immediate, sending rivers of blood down my face and into my eyes, mouth and nose. Blood is all I can see, all I can taste, all I can smell. Its copper, metalic taste fills my tongue, and I fall backwards onto the grass. Not a moment later, the air is shoved forcefully out of my lungs as a body throws itself onto me, holding me down in a tight bound.

I try to recatch my breath, but it's practically impossible with such a heavy weight on my lungs. I struggle and shake underneith my attacker, trying -and failing- to free myself.

"Give it up," the voice sneers. It's deep and rough, clearly one of a man. Somehow, in the back of my brain, I know that I know that voice. "I've got you, and there's no way you'll escape me this time."

The blood is still blocking my vision, but it's slid down my face enough that I'm able to squint up into the face of the man. My eyes widen and I gasp. "Ga-"

A hand slams down onto my windpipe, but it's too late. I've already seen the face. I've seen the strong jaw, and the dark hair and gray eyes. The unimaginable has happened: the person I trust the most in the entire world, my best friend, my hunting partner, has attacked me.

"Stop struggling, Catnip," he mocks. I almost remind him that he's the one who came up with the nickname, but I refrain. My shock and pain from having him betray me is weighing down every other thing I may be feeling. Nothing else matters.

He keeps talking, his hands covering my eyes so that I can't see him. "I'm going to kill you. Just like I did to Prim."

My heart drops to my stomach. After everything Gale and I have been through, I never, never thought he'd ever be so cold to me. He used to radiate heat and comfort, but now all I can sense is a coldness so sharp that it stings me everywhere our skin meets. Even with his hands on my eyes, tears start falling down my face, mixing in with the blood that still hasn't stopped coming from my head wound.

I stop fighting entirely. Gale knows that he's hit a sensitive spot. Laughing cruely, he leans in closer and whispers again, "Just like I did to Prim. Just like I did to your sweet, innocent little sister."

I can't take it anymore. I scream and shove him off me with every ounce of strength I have left in me. He wasn't expecting it, so he flies backwards enough for me to get away. I try to run, but I'm not fast enough and he has me down again quickly.

"I never loved you, Katniss. Never."

And with that, he sets me on fire and my world explodes in agony.

I wake up to my own screams. I only hear the last few, but they sound torturous and awful, like I really did just experience the nightmare.

As everything that I just saw and felt came back to me, I fall back onto the couch and start sobbing into my hands, shaking and trembling all over. I'd thought that my nightmares of the Games were the worst anyone could ever experience, but I just may have been wrong. Even reliving the slowest, most terrifying deaths couldn't compare with how it'd felt to have Gale betray me like that, to leave me there to die a painful death - at his own hands.

I tell myself over and over again that it's just my lingering memories of being told that it was Gale's bomb that killed Prim, but I can't be so sure. We all know that it was really Coin's fault, but if he hadn't designed them, she never would have been killed that way.

Stop it, Katniss, I tell myself. It wasn't his fault. Stop making everything worse.

I curl up into a fetal position - like I've done a thousand times in the past five months - and try to numb the pain that I'm so accustomed to. Sometimes it helps to be curled up so tightly, but in reality nothing can squeeze the pain out of my chest completely.

Suddenly the door is thrown open and Haymitch slumps against the doorframe. He sees me sobbing on the couch and his eyes widen, but only slightly.

"Everything alright, sweetheart?" he asks.

I don't answer. I just stare at him with blurry eyes as he approaches me. He looks down at me with sorrow in his eyes, as if he knows how I'm feeling. As if he's felt this kind of unbearable pain and guilt. As if he's felt the same undying knowledge that nothing will ever be better.

But then, I realize that he has. The Capitol has killed his family, too, and even the girl he loved. He may not be suffering the same way as I am, but he knows how I feel.

I jump off of the couch and am in his arms in a second. He smells horrible, like grease and alcohol and somebody who never bathes, but I don't care. He know how I'm feeling, like nobody ever has before, and he's always been here. Through everthing.

Haymitch pats my back awkwardly as I sob into his chest. He may not be the most comforting of all people, but he's all I have left.

Once I've calmed down a little bit, I pull away at wipe at my eyes. When I look up again, Haymitch is staring at me, looking more sober than I've ever seen him even though I know he isn't.

"I'm sorry, Katniss. I really am," he says.

It's silent for a while, me and Haymitch just standing near eachother, saying nothing and doing nothing. There's nothing left for us to say. We both know how it feels to have your heart ripped out by the Capitol, to have your life completely out of hand and torn apart.

After a while I realize that I haven't asked him why he came here. "So what is it you came for, Haymitch?" I ask. My voice doens't crack. It's monotone, like it's lost every bit of life to it.

Haymitch hears it, too. His eyes soften sympathetically, but I don't acknoledge the fact that he - along with probably lots of other people - must think I've turned into a mess. I have, and I know it. I won't deny it.

He takes a big breath. "Gale's train has arrived. I wasn't sure if you knew that or not."

I shake my head. I want to feel something at this news. I want to feel warmth in my chest, or excitement at his words. But I can't. My nightmare has shaken me up more than usual, and I feel nothing but dead inside.

Haymitch pats me on the shoulder one last time before walking out. He closes the door behind him, and I fall to my knees, my head in my hands.

I hear something behind me, but I don't look up. I don't know how long I stay there on the hardwood floor, breaking down and crying again. It's hard to keep track of time when the pain takes over, so I don't try to. I let myself drown in it, just like I have so many other times.

After all, what difference does it make now?

"Katniss..." I can hear a voice talking to me, but it seems far away. It's like I'm half-conscious and half-unconsious, all at once, unable to make sense of what I'm seeing and hearing. "Open your eyes. It's me, Gale."

This seems to be the only thing that actually registers with my brain. Hesitantly, slowly, I open my eyes. I can barely see anything through my tears, but I can just make out the dark hair and olive skin enough to know that it is Gale. He came. He's here.

Gale beckons me over, and I crawl into his lap. He lets me cry into the nape of his neck for a little while, rubbing my back and whispering reassurances. I'm not sure how anyone could find my gasping and choking in any way attractive, but he doesn't comment.

Usually, with Peeta, it took much longer for me to calm down. But this time my tears subside rather quickly and I'm able to get myself back under control. Maybe it's because I've run out of tears, or maybe it's just because it was never Peeta that I needed in the first place.

I take a few deep breaths and open my eyes. Now that I can really see the position Gale and I are in, I blush deeply. I'm sitting on his lap with my legs wrapped around his back, and his arms are holding me securely to his chest. From what I've seen in past experiences, it's a very intimate position to be in.

Ten months ago, I would have pulled away immediately and been embarrassed out of my mind. But after everything we've been through, nothing feels more right than being this close to him. Here with Gale, I can forget about my nightmare and what it had implied. I can forget about how detestful these past couple of years have been. I can forget about everything.

"What are you thinking?" he whispers. His warm breath tickles my cheek, and I tremble. Gale waits for me to respond, gently wiping away any tears that dare leave marks down my face.

"I'm thinking that I haven't felt this safe in months," I say honestly, sniffling. It's not the most romantic thing I could have told him, but it's the first thing that came to mind, and it's true.

Gale smiles. "I've missed you."

He leans his forehead down against mine, and his scent overwhelms me. He smells like the woods, and like home. Not this place I'm stuck in now after winning the Games, but my actual home back in the Seam before I was Reaped. He smells like familiarity and comfort. Warmth and soap. He smells like Gale, and it's the best scent in the entire world.

I breathe in deeply, momentarily forgetting that Gale might notice. Sure enough, he pulls away a little bit and gives me a strange look. "Katniss, are you smelling me?" he asks. His eyes are shining with amusement.

I blush again and look away. "No, of course not!"

He snorts. "Yeah. You're a horrible liar, Catnip, and we both know it."

I look up at him, at his smiling face, and feel something I haven't felt in months. A warmth spreading through my chest, all the way up to my face. It heats up my cheeks and pulls the corners of my mouth up so that I'm doing something I haven't done in what feels like forever.

I'm smiling.

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Sorry if that bore you guys to tears. Happy Valentines, everyone! It's the time for loooovveee, which means that I just might be writing cheesy love scenes pretty soon, like this one.

Review, please!