I really do write a lot of one-shots. Hm.

So, I've decided to start a little story, basically a series of one-shots from after the war but pre-Epilogue. I am rating it M for fluff, hopefully. If you have read my other oneshots, you may find that these will contradict them. Well, too bad. (:

Disclaimer: I do not own Katniss or Peeta or ANYTHING of the sort. It all belongs to the brilliant Suzanne Collins and her epic series The Hunger Games. Deal?

Here we go. Oneshot #1!

For the longest while since the first Games, it was always Katniss that woke up screaming, thrashing in pain, crying out after a nightmare had once again washed itself into her head during sleep. Peeta would tense up when first coming to, but Katniss was always there, and he was reassured. It became a routine for the two. They would sleep together, sharing the same bed every single night. They took comfort from the other, always surrounded by the other's warmth, the other's soothing, steady heartbeat. If one ever awoke without the other there, both would become anxious, start to have episodes, search frantically for the other.

Tonight, Peeta awoke with a start, sweating, panting, tears running down his face. He had dreamt of Katniss being killed by the mutts, getting shocked by the wire in the Quell, her legs being blow off by bombs during the war. It was all so real, so sensory. It happened over and over, non-stop. He was left on the side, not able to ever reach her, to help her, to hold her as she died. He had also dreamt of his family. His father that he was so fond of, and the middle child of his family that was always there for him. He dreamt of how they did not survive the bombing of the district, how they were choked to death with ash, or how a building might have fallen over them without even a thought to cross their minds before they met their death, how he wasn't there to rescue them.

"Katniss, Katniss," he sobbed, tugging at her night shirt, urging her to wake up. To make sure she hadn't died beside him and left without him. He could not bear the thought of losing anyone else. Luckily for him, Katniss awoke with a startle, her hunting instincts making her sit up in a nanosecond. She looked at Peeta's bright blue eyes in the early morning light, seeing the tears spill over at an alarming rate. His soft, calm face was sad, shriveled from crying.

"Oh, Peeta," Katniss whispered, immediately putting her cheek against his, wrapping her arms around him protectively. She took her hand and softly brushed it against Peeta's cheek, wet and slippery with tears. She looked into his eyes. They were no longer bright with hope or happiness, but with fear, sadness, and a raw vulnerability that Katniss had never seen before. She leaned in, kissing Peeta on the forehead gently, kisses trailing down to his sensitive neck. She took his hands into hers.

His sobbing, choking breaths, wet face, it was all too much, so foreign to her. She should be better at this, but it was always her needing the comfort. She'd been selfish all this time. This was long overdue, but at the same time, something neither one of them wanted. She didn't know how to respond, but after a while of being so close to each other, she learned that she always cried when he did; just like when Prim cried when Katniss did, before she ever knew the reason why.

"It's okay, Katniss," Peeta told her, his voice breaking with tears and choking sobs. "Don't cry, sweetheart, it's okay." He squeezed her hand as one of hers went to rub his back comfortingly. "I love you, Katniss. Don't cry."

Katniss nuzzled him, laying his head in the crook of her neck, resting on her shoulders. She sat him up, his weight heavy on her chest. He was just a mess now, broken. They both were. What the Capitol had done to both of them, of the Games, the war. They had broken the two, and many others, beyond repair. The battle was never really over. This was the hard part. The part they had to live with for the rest of their lives. Shooting and running was easy. Living in peace was hard.

Katniss looked down at her sobbing companion, lover, friend, survivor. Her anchor, to keep her from completely losing it, to keep her from thinking living was a mistake and that there was nobody for her. How Prim, Finnick, Rue, Thresh, Cinna, Darius - her family - all died for the Capitol's enjoyment. Katniss couldn't even help thinking about Foxface, Marvel, Cato and Clove, who did not at all deserve to die at all. They were tennagers like her, trying to survive in this awful place of the Capitol's creation.

She thought of how they would be living good lives, if they survived the war. How Cato and Clove were also lovers (at least, that was the impression), and how they could be like her and Peeta now. Broken, but still have each other. A fate that is not worse than death, for once. How Foxface's unbelieveable cleverness and intellegence could be passed on to other generations. Katniss wondered if she had any siblings, how there could be some of Foxface's red hair running around Panem right now. How Marvel might of had a secret girlfriend at home, that loved him dearly, and how he loved them back. Katniss knew Thresh and Rue, both deserving of a long, happy life. Thresh was very fair, very thoughtful, and would have made a great father, like Peeta. Rue, so gentle and patient, a great mother, a great older sister.

Katniss's tears flowed faster, more and more streaming down her face. She wanted nobody to die since the Hunger Games started. She wished she could take them all back, give them some sort of gratitude from her, to show that she valued them as people, how she recognized that they were, really, more than a piece in the Capitol's Games. But they were gone. That had been gone for about three years now.

Had it only been three years? Three years, when Prim was running around with the back of her shirt sticking out like a duck's tail? When her and Gale would haul in game every Sunday? Katniss dropped her head, kissing Peeta's hair, his body convulsing with the sobbing. Katniss took a deep breath in, and not knowing what else to do, began to sing.

Deep in the meadow, under the willow,
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow,
Lay down your head, and close your eyes,
And when they open, the sun will rise.

Here it's safe, here it's warm,
Here the daisies guard you from every harm,
Here your dreams are sweet, and tomorrow brings them true,
Here is the place where I love you.

Deep in the meadow, hidden far away,
A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray,
Forget your woes, and let your troubles lay,
And when again it's morning, they'll wash away.

Here it's safe, here it's warm,
Here the daisies guard you from every harm,
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true,
Here is the place where I love you.

Deep in the meadow, hidden far away,
A cloak of leaves, a moonbeam ray,
Forget your woes and let your troubles lay,
And when again it's morning, they'll wash away.

Here it's safe, here it's warm,
Here the daisies guard you from every harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you.

She repeated the lullaby a number of times, Peeta's wrenching sobs ending and his tears thinning out. She squeezes his hands periodically, kissing him. His glazed eyes and face turned to her, and she smiled shyly, cupping his face in her hands.

She could not believe that this was the boy that adored her since they were five years old, how he threw her the bread that saved her family and endured a beating for it, how he cared for her during the two Games, and had forgiven her for her less than ideal behavior. How she could never deserve him, not in a hundred years, Haymitch told her. She believed it. The least she could do was make his pain more bearable.

I am a real idiot when it comes to breaking up paragraphs, so I hope that I haven't completely messed that up.

Another thing you might have noticed is Peeta's use of calling her "sweetheart". I know a good bunch thinks it's the word Haymitch uses for Katniss, especially in mockery (which it is), but I don't think it's exclusive to him. It's a good "name" for Katniss ("baby", "my love", etc. don't seem to fit at all) and it fits well when Peeta uses it. So if this does happen to irk you and want to make you slap your mother, I apologize.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed. Please review if you can.