Mockingjay Filler/Alternate Ending

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Note: This fanfiction is based on the novels, not the movie adaptions of the story.

For Emily

Love, Mom

Chapter Two

Soft light is filtering through the curtains when I open my eyes the following morning. Peeta is still there. He is awake, watching me. This time, it is me who speaks first.

"No nightmares."

"No nightmares."

The rattle of pans downstairs startles us. Greasy Sae still likes to come and make me breakfast sometimes. I think it's more for her than for me, now. And she likes having Peeta join us. Except he usually walks over from his house.

Peeta chuckles at my discomfort. This is the old Peeta.

"Do you think she bought the story you told at the opening ceremonies for the Quell about our secret marriage?"

"No." Peeta gets out of bed, pulling me along with him. "But we are engaged. We never broke it off."

I'm tempted to say something about that not being real, but I won't do that to Peeta, even if I am irritated with his arrogance. He is finally gaining some confidence with his memory.

Then I see the twinkle in his eyes. He isn't going to hold me to the engagement. But instead of wanting to laugh, the thought leaves me empty.

Peeta throws my clothes to me and starts to leave the room. "Wait," I whisper as I quickly dress. But when we go downstairs, Greasy Sae just looks at us and says nothing.

That night the same dream is back. Peeta is with the others, shoveling the ashes upon me. But it doesn't go far, as he is there to wake me. I don't want to talk about it at first, but he holds me in his arms and coaxes it out of me.

In the morning, I am almost out the door of the bedroom, my boots on and my bow in my hand, when Peeta stops me.

"Please don't go far, Katniss." It is comforting to have Peeta looking out for me, but this time there is more. I see hurt in his eyes as he sits there in my bed. This is something we cannot do together, and he knows it.

"I'll be back before you are done baking."

I shoot a few rabbits, and bring all but one to Greasy Sae, who offers me vegetables so I can make a stew. I tell myself that I am hunting for others—to provide additional meat. But it is no longer necessary. I know it is something I must do as part of my healing.

I run into Peeta on the path from the Victor's Village. He is distressed. I wonder if he's had a flashback. He turns to walk with me back to my house, where he paces in the kitchen while I cut up the meat and vegetables for our stew.

I watch him as I work. "Peeta, what's wrong? Did you have a flashback?"

"Yes—no. I don't know." He runs his hand through his hair. "When you risked your life to get the medicine for me, I didn't want you to go, did I? That's real, isn't it?"

"Yes, that's real. But you would have died. I had to give you sleep syrup so you would not come after me."

"I felt the same way again today when you left to go hunting. I know it's something you need to do, but there are still dangers in the woods, Katniss. You're all alone." He slumps down into a chair and rests his elbows on his knees. His head drops as if he has let a great weight off of his chest.

I cannot argue with him, and I know this wasn't easy for him to say. There are still wild dogs and other creatures beyond the fence. I no longer have Gale to watch my back, and we both know that Peeta is not a hunter. I think of all the things that Peeta has done for me. Perhaps he has even come back to District 12 just because of me. After all, I was confined here indefinitely. I am quiet for a few minutes as I finish preparing the stew and clean up after myself.

"I won't go by myself anymore, Peeta."

"Oh Katniss, that isn't fair to you. I wish…"

I crouch down in front of him. "Perhaps I could bring the bow and arrows when we walk in the woods. You could wait for me while I hunt nearby."

Peeta's head comes up at this. I know he is thinking about all of the times he has almost lost me. I hold out my arms and he embraces me so fiercely that he must hold me up when I lose my balance. I can't move much, but I manage to rub my hand along his back. Finally he releases his grip enough so I can reach up to smooth the hair off of his forehead.

"I love you, Katniss. So much. Marry me. Please." There is no speech, like his first proposal. It is just us. Here. In my kitchen. It could be our kitchen.

I don't remember exactly what I said, but it must have been something like yes, because Peeta is suddenly joyful. He is swinging me around in his arms before I realize that he is no longer in the chair.

We do not want to wait to have the ceremony. I call my mother to explain, but we both know she would not have come anyway.

A few days later Greasy Sae, Haymitch, Thom, and other friends who have returned to rebuild gather with us in the living room of my house. They are not only rejoicing with Peeta and me, but for the hope we have given them. The wreckage of the Seam has been cleaned up, new homes have been built, fields have been sown, and now there is a wedding to celebrate.

Peeta surprises me with a wedding cake. It is a masterpiece. Tiger lilies in Peeta orange with Katniss green leaves. And a single dandelion. We eat the cake and toast some of his bread together in my fireplace—our fireplace. Now we are Peeta and Katniss Mellark.

Later, when we are alone, I don't have to wait for a nightmare before I feel Peeta's strong arms around me. And his lips on mine. I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach. This time there is nothing to stop us, no one watching us love one another. I know that this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale's fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that. I have tried to tell him this, but sometimes he needs to hear it again.

So after, when he whispers, "You love me. Real or not real?"

I tell him, "Real."