This is a random scene that I thought would be fun to write. I just took stuff from Mockingjay and added my ideas. It takes place maybe a little under week after Peeta tries to choke Katniss. It's in Katniss' point of view and does include Mockingjay spoilers.

Enjoy!

The doctors said that he was fine.

He's not.

I knew as soon as those hands closed around my neck; hands that once caressed my hair and painted beautiful pictures.

What's wrong with you, Peeta?

I need you back. We all need you back. Please.

I have to see him; even if it's just a glimpse of his face. I crawl out of bed, darkness shrouding everything in my small room. I stumble around, grasping around for the door.

I walk down the hall, to the infirmary. There's a counter with a thin man's feet propped up on it. He was snoring.

Good, I thought, No one's around.

As I approach room 2425, where Peeta is kept, I notice my hands are sweaty. Is he going to be hooked up to some giant machine, barely keeping him alive? Or even possibly tied up with restraints to refrain him from another attack on me? No, I realize, when I open the door. He's sleeping soundly on the bed, with no signs of any machinery or restraints. His head is tilted up, breathing softly and soundly.

I stand there for a moment, taking in the scene. He almost seems normal. Almost.

I sigh as he stirs in his deep sleep. He looks so peaceful, and I can barely believe that he went through weeks of torture by the Capitol.

I sit down on the bed, wanting to touch his face; his hair. It's been so long. I find myself crying. Why wasn't it me? Peeta never deserved any of this. It's my fault. All of it is my fault.

Suddenly, Peeta groggily moves his hand to his face, and I realize that a tear must have escaped my eyes onto his face. His eyes flash open and he stares at me in either awe or terror, as he realizes that I'm here.

"Is…is this a dream?" He asked, eyes glazed over, "Yes, it must be. Because you're not hurting me…Are you going to hurt me?"

"No," I whisper, eyes widening. "I'm not going to hurt you, Peeta."

"But, before…they said that you…why aren't you…" he muttered franticly and started to rise up from the bed.

"Trust me, I-" I said before getting interrupted.

"No!" He shouted, "I have to get away from you - you monster!"

It would have been ridiculously funny if he wasn't so serious.

He jumped off the bed, wearing only a hospital gown. He towered over me and pushed me onto the bed, overpowering me in one second.

"I'm going to kill you now," He said simply, "For all the wrong you did, tricking me and all the others."

Obviously, he was much larger and stronger than me and all I could do was struggle aimlessly as he pinned me down.

"No, Peeta, try to understand. Don't hurt me!" I flailed and whimpered. What happened to the strong, brave girl that survived two Hunger Games?

Surely someone would have heard us by now. Too bad the walls were soundproof, made especially for the poor tortured mental patient inhabiting it.

He growled at me, weighing me down. "Don't tell me what to do."

I closed my eyes and steeled myself for a blow.

Hah, I thought, almost delusional. Déjà vu. Except this time, it's Peeta instead of Thresh and he is showing no sign of mercy.

"I love you," I breathe.

"What did you say?" Peeta demanded roughly.

My eyes flew open and I screamed at the top of my lungs, "I LOVE YOU, PEETA MELLARK!"

And said person fell off the bed in surprise. I lay gasping for breath, wondering what he was thinking.

Then I realized that he might try to attack me again and scrambled off the bed, on the opposite side to where he lay.

"Um, Peeta?" I whispered.

"Did you really mean that?" he replied. He seemed to have come out of his state, finally realizing what he had done.

I took a deep breath, "Yes…"

"I…think, I love you too. I'm sorry. I'm just not sure…all those things that they told me about you, they weren't true, right?"

"Not at all. And it's alright. Are you going to go maniac on me again? Can I come over?"

"No I won't, and sure."

I walked over to where he laid, limbs splayed all over the cool tile floor. His blue eyes sparkled as he gazed at the ceiling.

I shivered as I imagined the things the capitol must have inflicted on him; the horrors that created this completely different Peeta. I shook my head, as if I could shake these bad thoughts from my brain.

I held out a hand and helped him up on the bed. I crawled up after him, still lightly aware of the danger I could be in if he was still angry or upset.

We laid in silence, just enjoying each other's company.

"I don't remember exactly what it was like when we were together." Peeta sighed.

"Can…can I show you?" I ventured bravely.

He smiled and squeezed my hand.

I grabbed his broad shoulders and lifted myself up to his face, barely looking at him. I could hear a sharp intake of breath from him, I wonder if he's still afraid.

I lean forward and he seems to also. Our lips are barely brushing, and it feels so perfect and I wish I could just stay here forever and then - it's gone.

He's rolled over to the other side of the bed, face buried in his hands and back facing me.

What did I do wrong? I thought

"I'm sorry. It's just that…I'm not ready yet." Peeta said, taking deep, shuddering breaths, "I'm sorry"

"No…I'm sorry." How could I be so ignorant? He isn't well yet, I can't force this onto him. "I should leave."

I stood up and an arm shot up and grabbed mine. I almost cried out, thinking that he was going to hurt me.

"Stay! Please. I need you here." He pleaded. I looked into his eyes and I knew that he really did.

I climbed back in the bed next to him. I thought of those nights on the train, the two of us sleeping side by side, comforting each other. That was a million years ago and in completely different situations. I sighed.

He read the sigh as a sign that I was uncomfortable and pulled me toward him with his arm. He held me and pushed his face into my hair, humming. We feel asleep like that.

"Mmmph," I mumbled as I rose from the bed, realizing where I was. I was surprised that the nurses hadn't checked on Peeta yet.

Speaking of Peeta, he still had his grip on me, and glanced at me when he saw that I was awake.

"Morning, sweetheart." He smiled at me, and my heart melted.

He leaned down and our lips met.

It's impossible to describe kissing Peeta Mellark. He's soft and strong and wonderful and safe all at the same time. Everything I would have hoped for.

Anyway, I tilted my head up to his, annoyed with the fact that he was taller than I.

But for now, it wasn't important because he was handling my mouth very delicately and sucked my bottom lip. It felt so good; I could just die right now in his hands.

I kissed back desperately, trying to make him feel as good as I did.

I ran my tongue around his mouth, he tasted like bread and sugar and cinnamon. He moaned into my mouth, and I giggled into his. I decided it was time to stop before we went too far.

I laid in his lap as he stroked the skin on my arms gently.

"What happened to not being ready?" I teased lightly.

"Oh, I dunno. But a beautiful young lady was in my bed this morning and I couldn't resist." He replied with a sparkle in his eyes.

He's back! Peeta Mellark is back! I thought with joy.

I couldn't help but pull him toward me and start, well, making out with him.

I pushed him onto the bed, me on top of him and him pretending to struggle under my "strong" hold.

He held me close to him and I kissed him while he traced across my back.

It was perfect. No, he was perfect.

Until a certain old drunk decided to buzz into the intercom, "Hey, you know there's a camera in there. Stop sucking each other's face off and get your asses down for breakfast."

Peeta didn't miss a beat of kissing me as he raised his middle finger up to the security camera.

I laughed and attacked him with my lips once more.

FIN