Hey guys! Thanks for all of the constructive criticism – especially a couple that gave me some advice, which I give a special thanks to – it really helped!

Anyways, on with the story.

After Mockingjay

Chapter Three: Phantom

I sit straight up in bed, a scream caught somewhere in my throat. Images of my nightmare scatter in the darkness, leaving imprints of blood and fire against the walls.

A whimper escapes my mouth, the last of what the scream would've been if I had let it loose. The physical force of the nightmare causes me to tremble, tears threatening to overflow my eyes.

There is a groan from beside me, a creak of bedspring, and when I turn Peeta's lips meet mine. His arms encircle me protectively, and I sink into their depths, grateful. He still smells like bread, and a hint of spring grass. Like the meadow on a warm summer day.

I break away, and we sit there for a couple moments, wrapped in each other's arms. The steady sounds of our hearts fill the silence, and when I feel normal again I look up at his face. His eyes are staring straight ahead, his jaw set, obviously caught in his own nightmare before my own. I want to say something, but I can't find the words.

Sometime later, I feel my arms withdraw from him and return to my side. He spares a glance at me. "You okay now?"

I nod. "And you?"

"Yeah," he rubs the side of his face, sighing.

I look at him for a couple seconds, and then lie back down. He does the same, and curls an arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I let him, thankful for the warmth of his body.

It might have been only seconds later, or hours, but when I open my eyes next the sun is shining through the windows, dust motes drifting in the rays of light. I sit up and realize Peeta is gone.

I walk downstairs, braiding my hair on the way. When I see Haymitch sitting at the table, my hands drop, half of the braid left unfinished. Peeta is by the sink, leaning back against it.

"I heard about what you're planning," says Haymitch.

"And…?" I still can't tell if he's happy about our plans, or is about to bore them into the ground.

"I think you're both smarter than I gave you credit for," he says, and then takes a drink out of a glass I hadn't realized was there. Immediately, I know what it is. After we had returned to District 12, Haymitch had drowned himself in drink. I thought he would never be sober again, but that was before I saw the full bottles in the trash outside his house. I smile inwardly. Old habits die hard, I suppose.

"I think it's a great idea," Peeta says, sparing a glance at me. I can tell by the gleam in his eyes he's as excited as I am, deep down on the inside.

"It'll give the new Districts something to hold on to, at least," says Haymitch.

"The only thing we have to worry about is how we are going to get it televised," I say.

"I'm sure there are a lot of people who would love to do that," Haymitch exaggerates. "I'll talk to Plutarch. He'll figure something out."

I think back to the false Gamemaker who had been on the hovercraft when they dropped me off here. He was appointed to secretary of communications, which handled many televised events. I remember hearing that my trial was one of the first, after I had shot President Coin. I push that memory back, with the reason why I had killed her.

I stand by Peeta, who wraps and arm around my shoulder. He says to Haymitch, "If I wasn't so elated right now, I might think twice about asking you to be my best man."

Haymitch's eyebrows shook up to his hairline, as well as mine. "Are you serious, boy?"

Peeta nods. "I have no one else I'd rather have to be it." I can't detect any sorrow for the family and friends he's lost in this war. His parents and his brothers, all dead when the Capitol bombed District 12. He seems to be coping better than I am.

And that reminds me. I have to pick a maid of honour, which was the last thing on my mind when I asked Peeta. Who could it be? If Prim was still alive, it would be without a doubt, her.

Haymitch sighs. "I guess I have no choice. Alright, I'll do it."

Both me and Peeta clap, as if on cue. If I wasn't tied down by the decision I had to make, I would've thought it was humorous.

Haymitch waves us off and stands up. "I should go. Weddings don't plan themselves, you know."

As he heads for the door, I call out. "Thank you."

He twists around and eyes me for a moment. "Take care of yourself Katniss." He says before sauntering out.

When I hear to door close, Peeta pulls me in front of him to face him. "That was a lot easier than I thought it would be." He says.

I smile. "Now all we have to worry about is the venue, invitations, the dress…" I have to admit, it's a very long list.

"I'll work on the invitations," Peeta says. "The venue should come to us later. As for the dress…"

"I'll talk to my mother," I say, because it's the first thing on my mind. I don't want Peeta to pull out of this idea because we have nothing to work with. I want this, I realize.

"Who are you going to choose as your maid of honour?" Peeta asks, yet again bringing back another problem.

"I don't know." I say truthfully.

He thinks for a minute. "How about Madge?"

Madge. Just thinking about her reminds me of Gale, and how he said that they were seeing each other. But I have to realize that it is a good idea. And there is literally no one else. "We'll see." I say instead.

Peeta smiles at me and kisses my forehead. I hug him, and we stand there, each brought together by the horrors of the Capitol, each haunted by our own past, each awaiting out own future together. As one.

And that's it for Chapter Three! Just as a heads up, I'll try to get the wedding fitted in for Chapter Five or Six, by the latest. Thanks for reading!

-Laura