Author's Note: When I started reading Everlarks, I realized that most of them got really bad in the middle. So I decided to make a story that wouldn't be so stale, and would have a good beginning, middle, and end.
Disclaimer: Suzanne Colins owns the Hunger Games.
"I can't sleep," I say into the darkness, knowing Peeta's blue eyes were as wide awake as mine.
"Another nightmare?" he asked worriedly. I turned my head to face his. He was staring at me in concern.
"Yeah," I confided, "about Rue, dead in my arms."
"They'll never cease, will they?" asked Peeta, back to looking at the ceiling. I shook my head but because he couldn't see it I also said, "no."
He sighed. "I have them too, you know. But they're all about you dying in the cave, or drowning in the water of the Quarter Quell. Then I wake up, see you sleeping next to me, and calm down again."
"I know, you've told me before. Mine are always different. Sometimes I see Prim, exploding in the Capitol, or Mags, walking into the fog," I say, "I never know which one I'll get."
He wraps his arms around me then, and put my head in his chest, hearing his steady heartbeat. "We have each other, and the kids. As long as we're together nothing can happen to us. We proved that in the games, during the war."
I nodded, not daring to say a word. But I didn't need to because just then the door of our bedroom creaked open and two feet walked over to the side of the bed and sat down.
"I heard you two talking. Is it about the low amount of meat lately? Me and mom can go out tomorrow and hunt if we need to. Also, why are you so close together?" This last part he inquired suspiciously, as if suspecting us of wrong-doing.
"Your mother couldn't sleep, either," Peeta said. "And we're perfectly good on meat supply."
"How come you can never sleep, Mom?" asked Rye. I sighed, untangling myself from Peeta's arms. This was the type of question I never wanted to have to answer.
"I just can't," I said. "Anyway, how come you weren't sleeping anyway? It's three in the morning."
"I woke up at random and was up thinking," Rye said. He stopped. Obviously he wanted to ask us something, but wasn't sure if it was the right time.
"Go on," I urged. Peeta nodded in agreement, "what's on your mind?" he asked.
"Dad, Mom, how would you feel if I went to the Capitol with you next Saturday for your monthly meeting?" he asked eagerly. "I've always wanted to go and Willow can come too, if she wants. After all, she is older than me and probably wants to see it too."
I was silent, so was Peeta. We didn't know what to say. Our son, who knew nothing of our past, wanted to go to the Capitol with us? It seemed like a blow to the gut.
"Why - why has this suddenly come up now?" I finally choke out. "You've never professed an interest for the Capitol before."
"No, but I just want to see what it looks like," Rye said, "and see what you guys do there and everything. Please!"
"We'll have to think about it," Peeta said. I could tell by the way he talked next he was smiling.
"Really? You'll actually consider it?" he asked, so loudly I thought he would wake up Willow. Sure enough, two minutes later, there was the sound of a door opening down the hall and then feet advancing toward this room.
"What's all this noise? I heard Rye's voice and was wondering -" she was interrupted by her brother's announcement.
"They said we might be able to go to the Capitol with them this weekend," he said. Willow looked at him, her eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Really?" she asked, turning to Peeta and I.
"We merely said we'd -" I began, only to be cut off by a squeal and a pair of arms closing me in on a hug.
"Thank you, Mom! I've always wanted to go - see everything.." she said. "People at school say it's great. By the way, Mom, we've gotten to the end of the first war at school. They say it ended with the start of something called the Hunger Games. Have you ever heard of that?"
Peeta and I exchanged a look. If Willow was getting nearer to their part on the history pages, and they wanted to go to the capital, and Rye was starting to get suspicious of my sleeping patterns, it was unlikely we could hide the story of our past much longer. The time was only ticking away.
"We've heard of it," Peeta said vaguely. "Sad time in history, eh?"
"What's the Hunger Games?" asked Rye, obviously confused.
"Nothing for you to worry about," I interrupted the conversation quickly, before Willow could get a chance to explain. "We'll explain another time, how about that? Right now though, we all need to go to bed. In the morning we'll discuss the possibility, and note possibility, of us going to the Capitol as a family of four. Good night!"
With the dismissal, my two children walked out of the room and into their own ones. I snuggled back into Peeta, fear creased in my face.
"We'll have to tell them sometime soon," I said.
"Very soon," Peeta agreed. "But don't worry. It'll all be fine."