…I just realized that hearts don't show up when I type them. *sigh*… Well, if any of you have seen random "3"s pasted around my A/N's, they were wanna-be hearts. That depresses me…

Have any of you people sat on the floor with your computer, staring—just staring—at a picture? Well, I was staring at one for a good solid fifteen minutes, and now I feel like going into detail of how it made me feel 'cause I'm just one of those people. But I'll spare you. Happy reading.

oOo

I was walking. Just walking. The air around me was a blissful chill, spreading bumps along my arms. I knew very little about my destination and what I was leaving. I knew behind me, there were things I to live for. Behind me, I had a life, a love, a home. In front of me, I had a job to do. There were definite consequences for either choice, but oh well. I had to do what I had to do.

My footsteps made no noise on the barren soil beneath me. In fact—there weren't any sounds at all. No birds, no crickets, no sounds of my quiet breathing. But since it was just a dream, that didn't faze me. I kept walking.

Though I did not know where I was headed, I was not surprised to see a strip of forest ahead of me. As I got nearer to it, little lights were visible, winking hello to me from afar. But the closer I got to it, the slower my walking got. It was as if my feet were trapped in molasses. I struggled with it, pulling and yanking, but the harder I fought, the more I was stuck.

I stood there, frozen in time, and a white flower bloomed in front of me, growing bigger and flashing colors. Heat splashed my face like water, and the flower grew into an explosion.

Brilliant ashen fire spread before me, annihilating everything in sight.

And I was getting burned. Pain licked my body, boiling and alive. I needed to get away, I had to. This torture made me wish I was dead; I tried screaming, my lungs wouldn't work. I tried running, my legs wouldn't work. I tried crying until I could cry no more, yet I was baked. So…dry…

I woke up.

Unlike most time I've had nightmares and have woken up from them I was screaming bloody murder. But when I slammed down into reality, all that was left over from my dream was a frantically-pounding heart and lungs that could not get enough air. I sat straight up in bed, clutching my chest, gasping for air. But none would come. It was as if pillow had been pressed to my face.

Coughing and choking, I struggled blindly, feeling around on the bed for Peeta. He has to save me, he needs to save me.

Arms encircled my shoulders and I was pulled onto his chest. When Peeta had made contact with me, the pillow had been removed suddenly, sending a wave of painful air into my lungs, only to make me choke some more.

Hunched against Peeta's torso, I wheezed the scraping air in and out until breathing didn't hurt anymore. But I sure did. The feeling of fire was still prickling my skin, and I couldn't help but cry. Trembling sobs raked my body, and Peeta held me even closer.

One of his hands rubbed soothing circles on the small of my back, and the other was on my shoulder. He bent down close and pressed his lips to my temple. "You're okay. I've got you."

It was always the same words, but somehow, it was the same words that calmed me down.

The sobs slowly dwindled to a stop, and I was left shivering uncontrollably. It wasn't as if I was cold or anything. Just…shaky.

Peeta tucked the blanket up to my chin and made sure I was as close to him as possible, probably for warmth reasons. But it was nice, nonetheless, to have my head tucked under his chin, curled up with hands against his collarbone, breathing in the scent of Peeta as he holds me.

I'm not shivering anymore.

For a few moments we just laid there, pressed together under the blankets, until Peeta broke the silence. "It was different that time."

"Mph…" I groaned, and drew my head back from the soft material of his shirt. "Remember when I asked why you didn't wake me up when you had nightmares?"

He nodded slowly, a small, confused smile spreading on his mouth.

"I was frozen, feeling my skin bubbling under the white fire. I was suffocating…" A shiver ran the length of my body at the thought.

"Aw…" With a small noise of sympathy, Peeta squeezed me for a second, and then loosened his arms slightly. "You're okay now."

"I know." I leaned forward to press my lips against Peeta's jaw once, and swung my legs off the bed. Since I hadn't taken a shower or anything yesterday, one was a must-have today.

Once I had scrubbed clean, dried off, and dressed in a fresh pair of clothing, I met Peeta back in the room. He, too, was in new clothes.

"Even though we haven't been out in ages," he said as we walked hand-in-hand to the lunchroom. "I would like us to stay in our rooms except for eating, or at least until the warning level is lowered."

I nodded in agreement, though my mind was elsewhere. Every part of my body was on high alert, and it was near impossible for me to ignore the ever-growing feeling of despair in my gut. It was like a cold—you could feel it coming even before it hit, and the anticipation was worse than the actual virus itself.

Peeta kept me close the whole way, and when we got to the cafeteria he hesitated once more. "…Do you want to sit by your mother and Prim? Or should we take a table to ourselves again?"

If he had to ask me, I knew that he wanted a table alone, and he only asked to be chivalrous.

I squeezed his hand once, gently. "One by ourselves."

It was impossible to hide the look of gratitude on Peeta's face.

We sat next to each other, eating our meager breakfast with only one hand; the other two were laced together under the table. When our trays were scraped clean, Peeta and I stood up.

"I wish we could do something other than stay in our room." He looked slightly wistful. "I fee; awful depriving you."

My eyebrows puckered, and I was about to comment on how he didn't at all deprive me of anything, but the voices of people yelling echoed outside the doors. They were quiet at first, but then grew loud and panicked.

People around the room began noticing them, too, and a low murmur joined the shouting.

"Katniss, maybe we should—" Peeta's arm went protectively around my shoulder, but his words were cut off.

SCREEOOOOOOO! A horrid screech of an alarm blasted through the room. When it didn't stop, Peeta immediately wrapped his arms around me, shielding me from who-knows-what.

My heart was thudding irregularly as Peeta and I tried to make our way through the crowd trying to leave. But something was blocking their way.

Suddenly, a massive horde of Officials poured into the cafeteria, creating a thunderous uproar. Feet trampled the floor, and I was pressed even tighter against the frantically pounding chest of Peeta's.

"Miss Mellark!" Someone shouted over the raised voices, and both Peeta and I turned.

Though somewhere deep inside of me, I was annoyed because as soon as I change my name back to Everdeen, people start calling me Mellark. But oh well.

"Miss Everdeen!" The person called again, and Peeta and I wriggled through the throng of squirming bodies, and found ourselves face-to-face with a burly black Official, accompanied by four other men.

The chocolate-skinned man held out something long and thin, wrapped in white cloth. "You must not go unarmed. This is an emergency; the Capitol soldiers are here as we speak, and—"

On cue, several gunshots broke through the crowd.

The Official had to yell to be heard. "We must escort you to safety!"

Peeta and I had no time to look to see what the covered item was, because our arms were gripped and we were being pushed back through the crowd. To my immense surprise, in the very heart of the mob, was a hole in the floor. Literally. A wide hole was gaping up at us, swallowed frightened refugees as they were escorted down into the darkness by Officials.

I was seeing more Officials than I've ever seen in my life.

The officers stepped onto the cement stairs and beckoned for Peeta and I to follow. After exchanging worried looks, Peeta's fingers curled around mine and we plunged into the darkness, leaving the shouts and gunshots of District 13 behind.

For a long while, we jogged the length of a tunnel, guided only by the dim light of the lantern held by the Official. In his left hand was a long rifle, poised to strike at any second. Our feet trampled the dusty cement floor, and only until the Official stopped we stopped, too.

Our lungs ached, and the distant bangs of gunshot ricocheting off walls could be heard from above. I shrank closer to Peeta. It has begun. It was frightening in a sort of adrenaline rush, exhilarating kind of way. This was it. This was the war. I was the target.

The Official had stopped to open yet another trap door in the side of the wall, and beckoned Peeta and I through. When we had entered the covert space, we turned back to the dark Official for instructions.

He seemed stressed out. "Miss Mellark, you are to stay put, no matter the cause. Refugees are going to be filtered into here for a while, and until further notice, only the Officials will be fighting. The report was of only maybe two dozen soldiers, which shouldn't be too hard to take down. But stay put, do you hear me?" His black eyebrows were smashed into a heavy V-shape. "This is crucial! It is you they're after."

I nodded hastily, frightful of his outburst. But he didn't say anything else, just quickly slammed the trapdoor back shut, engulfing me and Peeta in darkness.

Everything was still and silent for a few minutes until our eyes got accustom to the dark. And when they did, I could see the dull outline of Peeta drawing me into his chest.

The embrace was firm and apprehensive, and frightened heartbeats pounded through the quiet.

When we pulled away—arms still around each others' waists—it was apparent we weren't the only ones down here. Several dots of golden light were scattered among the giant room, illuminating the scared faces of women, children, and men clasping their families like they were grenade pins.

When my eyes flicked over to a couple of people hunched in the corner, a wave of painful relief slammed into my chest and I tore from Peeta's arms.

"Mother!" I yelled, a startling contrast against the almost-silent room, "Prim!"

Their heads turned my direction when I yelled, and allowed me to crumple into their arms. I swept Prim up and held her, shaking, to me. It was obvious they were on the verge of crying.

"Oh, Katniss…" Mother stroked my hair, sniffling tears back. "We didn't see you; we didn't know where you were… We thought they may have already gotten to you…"

I said nothing to this, in fear of bursting out into loud sobs myself.

Peeta hadn't turned up next to us, and it was probably because he thought I wanted to be alone with my family, but I wanted him. He was part of the family, too, right?

Just as a small tear fell onto her creased cheek, her eyes flickered upwards. "Peeta!" Her voice was cracked, but not surprised. What did surprise me, though, was when she pulled her arms away from me and Prim to embrace him as well. He looked shaken up, and was still holding the long mysterious package.

After accepting hugs from all of my family, he handed the parcel to me.

It was the last thing on my mind, really, but I might as well open it. Swallowing tears, I took it from Peeta and unwrapped the cloth. And laying on the floor was…I was blown away. Sleek and black, like none other I've seen, was a gorgeous recurve bow, complete with a quiver full of arrows. The bow was already strung and everything.

We all exchanged awed glances.

The quiver says something, Katniss." Primrose sniffed once, and pointed to thin white lettering on the worn leather. The words, next to each other but spaced apart: fire, normal, explosive. Those were probably the arrow types, though I'd never heard of an exploding arrow.

Well, that was all fine and dandy, but if no one had noticed, there was a war going on. And I was about to bawl my eyes out.

Noticing the direct change in mood from the awe of getting a bow, to the stress of the moment, my whole family wanted to hold me. But to be honest, I didn't want to seem like a baby. If I gave in and let any one of them hold me, I was sure to weep uncontrollably and never stop. That was the last thing I wanted. Holding back a sob, I flinched away from outstretched arms and curled up in a little ball a few feet away.

Actually… Was it so horrible that I only wanted Peeta right then? I loved my family and all, but I needed to have the reassurance of his arms. Of course, I couldn't have the distraction and numbness of what I really wanted right then. Everyone was watching.

Apparently that didn't matter to Peeta, because he just followed me into my corner of woe and pulled me onto his lap. At this point I would be telling all you guys "I told you so", because when I was pressed up against Peeta's torso, the waterworks began.

They weren't necessarily tears of fear, nor tears of sorrow. In fact, now that I think of it, I don't know what I was crying about at all. Maybe it was the fact that I knew I would be dying that night. Maybe, but I wouldn't know.

All I knew is that the war had started, and they hunted me. Dead or alive.

oOo

WOOT! Okay, I know I said this a while back, but this time I'm actually sending my computer in the shop. Seriously. So I send my best wishes to all you people out there, and hope this story doesn't suck too bad. Don't do drugs. And, um, stay in school. And all that good stuff. Oh, and just to let you know, February 20th is national Embrace Your Inner Old Man Day. I hope you'll celebrate it with me.