A/N

Hello all! It's nice to be back. I know I haven't posted anything in a while. I promise I'm still working on the final chapter of NSG, but in the meantime, here's a little something to whet your appetites… I just re-read Catching Fire today, and I was struck again by the passage about the Victory Tour, and Katniss' insomnia. So I decided to write a short oneshot, this time from Peeta's POV. Hope you enjoy!

-Iri

I'm running through the streets of District Twelve, my shoes clattering noisily over the wet cobblestones, slapping in the pouring rain as I push my body forwards. My lungs burn, but I can't stop. They're right behind me. The mutts. I hear them howl. They're gaining on me.

I round the corner into the main square and almost skid on the wet ground, but am able to regain my balance and plunge forwards, through the pressing crowds. What are all these people doing here? It's not a market day. It's raining. And the mutts are still after me. They'll come right through the square!

But I can't stop running. I have to warn her. Have to get to her before they do. She has to run. I pump my arms harder, gasping for air, my body shaking with the exertion. I can feel their hot breath on my back, and I cry out in terror. Where is she? I have to warn her!

A crowd has formed at the base of the Justice Building. Why? What are they doing? Then, I see her. She's standing atop the very crest of the roof, her arms spread out to her sides, like she's about to take flight. The crowd below is screaming for her to jump.

"No!" I scream, horrified, but my voice is silent, lost in the tumult of the square, and I'm too far away for her to hear me anyways. There's a ripping sound, and I stumble and almost fall as the lead mutt takes a chunk from my pants leg in her mouth. The brilliant amber eyes and ginger fur flash through my awareness as I scramble forwards. Foxface. The girl I killed.

"Jump! Jump! Fly!" the crowd chants, and I sprint towards them. I have to stop her. Above me, she opens her eyes, but instead of dark grey, they shine brilliant orange, the color of the flames that suddenly erupt around her, engulfing the building and the crowd around it.

I cry out, reaching out a hand for her, but it's fruitless. She is too far away, and I am helpless as a heavy weight hits my back, knocking me to the ground My chin smashes into the pavements, and I see stars. Then, I feel the teeth ripping at my back, razor claws scything down my spine. The pain is endless, obliterating. I'm going to die here.

Tears streaming down my face, I raise my eyes to the heavens, and see her standing amid the flames, unharmed. She's watching me, watching as the mutations devour me alive. Our eyes meet, and there is no recognition in them. Flames flicker behind her pupils, and I know there is no hope.

"Please," I whimper, the agony destroying any rational thought. All I want is for it to stop, stop, stop, but there is no answer. She stares for a few seconds more, and then, before my eyes, she disappears, leaving me to the mercy of the beasts and the trampling crowds and the flames. And I am alone, and the pain is terrible, but I am not dying, I'm not blacking out, and make it stop make it stop make it stop make it st-

I am jolted from the terrifying dream by a sudden blow to my cheek, and then a series of fists that strike my neck and chest with bruising force. I can't see in the darkness that fills the room, and I'm confused. Where am I? Then, I am able to extricate myself from beneath the heavy silk bed sheets, and reach out blindly for the lamp next to the bed.

I squint against the harsh glare, but abruptly open my eyes as something hits my shin hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. Beside me, Katniss thrashes about, arms and legs flailing wildly as she fights through another of her horrible nightmares. Tears stream down her cheeks and her eyes are squeezed tightly shut, her eyeballs moving rapidly beneath the lids as she screams out for someone to run.

"Katniss!" I grab her shoulders and shake her, panicked, as she pummels my chest with both fists. "Katniss, wake up! Wake up! It's just a dream, it's a nightmare, wake up!" I shake her violently for a few more moments, and her eyes fly open, glazed over in terror and confusion. For a split second, there is no flash of recognition in her eyes, and I flinch back as her hand flies up towards my face.

"Katniss, it's me!"

She freezes under my hands, still shaking violently as I stare at her. Her eyes, not the brilliant scarlet of my nightmare but their usual clear grey, are glassy and filled with tears; her ordinarily sun-darkened skin blanched pale and porcelain, any hit of protective mask gone from her features. She says nothing.

I realize my hands are still clenched on her shoulders and I loosen my grip, running them up and down the outside of her bare arms, instead. "Hey, hey, it's okay," I say in my most soothing voice. "It's all right. It's over. It's over."

Katniss opens her mouth, as if to say something, but nothing comes out as the tears spill over the edge and stain the sheets with their salt. I wait.

"It's never over," she finally whispers, and her desolate, unguarded tone sends a sliver of ice through my chest. As she sags back into the mattress, I slide her trembling frame into my arms and pull her to me, tucking her head under my chin, locking my arms around her and rocking her back and forth. I can feel the spreading wetness on my shirtsleeve, where she hides her face. Slowly, I try to calm my own shuddering breaths. In and out. In. And out.

It must be nearly an hour later that her shivering finally lessens until it's almost imperceptible, but I can't be sure. The clock is across the room, out of sight, and there's no way I'm leaving her to go look. She's still curled around me, every inch of her small body pressed against mine, something she would never do any other time. I gently smooth her tangled hair back, planting my lips softly to the crown of her head.

Katniss tilts her head back and looks up at me, face still open, unguarded, vulnerable as it never is during the day. "I'm sorry," she whispers in a low tone, her voice cracking slightly as she wipes a tear I didn't know I was crying from my cheek.

"Don't be," I say lowly, shaking my head. "Don't ever be. They're not your fault."

"But I'm ruining your sleep, too," she replies, avoiding my eyes. I can see her shutting down, bringing that mask back up, and I'm surprised at how much it hurts to see her like this. She's strong, and she refuses to let herself be anything but, not even in front of me. And it hurts.

"No," I say more forcefully. "No, Katniss, you're not. You're not the only one who has nightmares, and to be honest, I'd rather wake up to you than an empty room. Please."

There's silence for a moment, a few heartbeats, and I prepare myself for her dismissal. I'll go willingly, if she wants me to. As much as I long to stay, in this bed that's warm with the two of us, just holding each other. My arms fit perfectly around her waist, and her hands, so deadly with a bow, feel like nothing I've ever experienced against my chest. But I'll go. This is her room.

Finally, Katniss sighs, and I feel her relax into me once more. "No. Stay, Peeta," she breathes, and I feel her shift closer, resting her head on my shoulder. Her voice is weary, and I instinctively bring the back of my hand to stroke across her jaw, raising it so I can see her face.

The deep shadows beneath her eyes only serve as a reminder of just how broken she is, how broken we both are. I close my eyes, pained, and then open them, bringing my forehead to meet hers. "Sleep," I say, encircling her in my arms once more. "I'm here. Just go back to sleep, Katniss."

I feel her tremble slightly once more, and then her arms find their way to my chest once more as she settles in. She won't fall asleep again for hours, but I breathe evenly and as carefully as possible, so as not to disturb her. I try to remind myself, every few seconds, that this girl in my arms is not really mine, that she belongs to someone else, but it's useless. The feel of her next to me is bliss, almost overriding the terror of my own nightmare, and I succumb to sleep once more, praying for morning to come.

A/N

What do you think? Let me know if I should continue adding more, because I think I have a few more ideas for little oneshots here and there. Review, and thanks!

-Iri

Oh, and a shameless plug here- my other story, Never Say Goodbye, is almost complete, so go check it out