Sorry for the little delay, I didn't have access to a computer all day yesterday.

I don't own THG not My Head is an Animal.

Now, on to reading!


Katniss' POV

This must be a dream. It's the only explanation to why I'm here in my room in Victors' Village in the middle of the night. Last time I checked, I was in Two, and someone had shot me.

My hand goes to my side, looking for the signs left on me by a bullet, but I can't find any. My fingers clutch the soft material of the nightgown I used to sleep in before the Quarter Quell, and the bed has the same scent, of clean sheets dried in the sun.

Maybe... Maybe this isn't a dream. Maybe the rebellion, District 13 is the dream, and this is real.

I jump out of bed and run down the corridor to Prim's room. The door is open, and as I charge in, I notice the dishevelled look of the room. Her bed is unmade, sheets rumbled and pillow on the floor. The wardrobe is open, but all her clothes are still there. So are her books and ribbons. But no Prim. Everything is covered by a thin layer of dust. Or ashes.

Before I panic, I sprint out and towards my mother's room. It's the same.

I start calling their names, but they don't answer me. The first floor is as empty as the second. Where are they? What happened here?

Haymitch. He may know something. They could be with him.

I run towards my mentor's house, bare feet pounding on the gravel that separates our houses.

The door is locked, and no one answer me when I knock, pound, claw at the wooden door, shouting.

I crumble on the old, unkempt porch, my head against the door as my body heaves. If this were any other occurrence, I'd go to Peeta's. But I can go there. There's no Peeta there. Not my Peeta. Not anymore. Only the lost boy with no memory that tried to strangle me out of fear.

"I'm sorry about that."

I freeze when I hear his voice. It's the same soothing baritone that I would listen to during interviews, speeches, little talks.

I hesitantly turn my head, and there he is, taking my breath away.

He looks healthy, like before the Quell. His hair is perfectly ruffled, and his smile is the same he gave me on more than an occasion. He is him. I know it because his eyes are blue as the morning sky, as gentle and loving as I remember them.

"Peeta." My voice is a whisper so frail, I don't know if he heard me.

He moves slowly, climbing the few steps on Haymitch's porch and kneeling next to me.

I recoil when I feel his hand on my cheek, the memory of the last time he touched me painfully engraved in my brain. When a flash of sadness pass through his eyes, though, I relax on his touch, wanting to reassure this Peeta that's so obviously the one I loved and to reassure myself that this is not a dream.

"I'm afraid it is." Peeta says with a rueful smile.

I start shivering. Of course it is a dream. District 12 doesn't exist anymore. Peeta doesn't exist anymore. He is gone, gone, gone away. I watched him disappear through the propos the Capitol would air. All that's left is a ghost of him. I lost him, and for all I try, I can't get to him. He won't let me, now.

I screw my eyes shut as Peeta wraps his arms around me, and I melt into him, inhaling his scent. I didn't know I missed his scent, like cinnamon and dill. But I missed it so much. I missed him so much.

"You need to go back." he says. "I'll walk with you." He holds my hand and try to bring me on my feet, but I just can't move. I don't want to move if this means Peeta could go away. So I just clutch his hand with both of mine and pull him down.

He sighs. He hoists me up and my arms immediately fly around his neck, probably squeezing the life out of him. Peeta doesn't protest, he just bring me back to my house.

The stairs creak as we climb to the second floor and to my room, but other than that, there's not a sound in this old and empty house.

Since I refuse to release my hold on him, Peeta lays down in my bed with me, gently cradling my face in his big, warm hand. "Close your eyes. Sleep." he tells me.

"I don't want to sleep."

"Why not?"

"You'll go away." I don't want him to go away. I never wanted it. All I've ever wanted was for him to live. And now, our lives are so bound together that, in order to make me suffer, he has to suffer. Everytime I think it will be the last, but it never is. I keep finding and losing him. But maybe this time will really be the last. Because of me, Peeta has lost the only thing he wanted to keep safe: himself. Why would he ever want to come back to me now?

He brings me flush against him as the first tears run down my face, one of his hands caressing my hair and the other drawing small, soothing circles on my small back.

Apologies fall from my lips as I grip handfuls of his shirt, trying to keep him near me.

"It's not your fault."

"It is, Peeta. It is." Everything that happened to him is my fault. His leg, his heart, his mind, his family. I took it all away. And now he hates me, and he is scared of me, and he has every reasons to. "It's killing me to see you this way."

"Hey. Enough of that." He puts his fingers under my chin so that I look at him. Then his hand splays over my cheek, his thumb wiping away the tears there. "That person... That is not me. He may look like me, being in my body, but he's not me. You know it, right?"

I'm hesitant to answer. Peeta is silent until I weakly nod.

"Whatever that person says, it is not true. You've been my north star for years, since we were young and full of life and full of love. I would never think anything like that about you. Don't listen to a word I say, they're not real. Yeah, sure, some days I don't know if I am wrong or right and my mind is playing tricks on me, but I know, deep inside, what I feel about you. 'Cause though the truth may vary, that never changed."

Oh, how I want to believe him. But how can I? This Peeta is just a manifestation of my mind, of what I really want. Him, healthy, sane, in love with me. The truth couldn't be more different.

Still, I cling to him with every ounce of strength I possess, never wanting to leave this piece of heaven that are his arms, that my mind conjured up from long gone memories.

I don't know how long we stay there – him comforting me, me breathing him in – but at some point Peeta moves to get up.

Panicking, I grab his arms and yank him back to me, but he is so strong, so much stronger than me, and I'm miserably failing. He slips out of my grasp. "No! No no no, Peeta! Please, Peeta, don't go!" I mumble frantically, new tears stinging my eyes.

"Katniss, you have to let me go. You have to wake up."

Wake up? No, I don't want to wake up. I don't want to go back to a world where I don't have him. I shake my head and grab his arms once again, refusing to let him go.

"Katniss." he lays back down with me, and I immediately launch myself at him. "I know you don't want to, but just let me go. We'll meet again soon."

In response, my hands claw at his shoulders, and if he weren't a dream I'm sure I would draw blood.

"Listen to me. Now we're torn apart and there's nothing we can do. You have to let me go for now. But I promise, soon it will all be over, buried with our past. I'm fighting my way back to you. But you need to wake up. Now all you can do is have faith in me. Don't give up on me, on us. Wait for me. Please, hang around. I'll see you when you fall asleep."

I look up, and his eyes are so full of hope and love that I almost drown in them. I nod numbly, and his hand is back on my cheek, warm and safe. Instantly, I feel incredibly tired, and my eyes start to drop on their own will.

I may be okay with waking up – for now – but I'm not ready to let him go. So, with the last energy I can muster to delay our departure, I ask him, "Stay with me?"

His answering smile makes my heart flutter in that pleasant way I hadn't been experiencing in a long time. "Always."

I wake up to the sound of beeping machines and to the smell of antiseptic. In the numbness caused by the morphling, my cheek still feels warm from Peeta's touch.


Let me know what you think! I'm on Tumblr (littleevilisa) :D