Okay guys, this is my first fanfic, so go easy on me! But let me know what you think!

Oh, yeah, I don't own the Hunger Games. Or any of the characters. But I do own about 10 boxes of thin mints.

*Katniss' POV*

" Bet I can beat you down the hill, Katniss," Peeta taunts. I roll my eyes.

"Fat chance, Peeta," I say.

We're in District 3, home of little electronic doodads that fascinate me, and openly bore my husband, Peeta Mellark. Haymitch, Peeta, and I have stayed comfortable in District 12, though we were forced to stay there directly after the war ended. Despite the fact that horrible memories swim in my home, it's very nice. We are all Victors, so we live in Victor's Village. After the bombings in 12, the ashes and bodies were plowed into the ground and we have a new hospital and our main export is now medicine, instead of coal, since the mines have collapsed. My mother buries herself in her work to block out the grief and pain in this world and works at a hospital in 4. We plan to visit her soon, and I tried to get her to find a job at the new hospital in 12, but there are too many bad memories.

My ex-best friend, Gale Hawthorne, lives in District 2 now. The pet of the Capitol. How ironic that he would work there. He used to be my pet, my favorite, my constant companion, my best friend. I even thought I was in love with him, but, as he pointed out years ago, we'll never no if it was his bomb that killed my sister, but it was his idea and I cannot stop myself from associating that with him. We can't be together anymore, but that doesn't matter. I don't need him because I have Peeta. The most wonderful man any woman could ever ask for. So is Haymitch, our mentor from the Games. He's like a father to us. He would never let get hurt or do anything stupid. Or let us have any fun, for that matter.

"Slow it down, kids," Haymitch says. "No racing on my watch."

Peeta and I look at each other, sparing a quick glance at Haymitch. Peeta's face breaks into a mischievous grin.

"One," I say.

"Hey!" Haymitch interjects.

"Two," Peeta whispers.

"Three!" We say together.

"You kids are going to regret this!" calls Haymitch after us.

Our camera man races after us. You'd think that after all these years the people would have gotten tired of us, but the cameras always there, wanting to know what we're up to. They televised our wedding and our first wedding anniversary. I don't mind, and Haymitch always says we could use the extra attention. Peeta tries to act indifferent about it, but I can tell he wishes these events were private.

I race down the hill, my hair whipping in my face. I wish that it was in it's braid. I'm over taking Peeta, obviously. The terrain is rocky, with almost no grass. There is a brick retaining wall that is getting higher as we go down the hill. I'm about to kick off my high heels when Peeta's in my ear.

"Slowing down?" He whispers.

"No," I say, not bothering to look at him. Instead of getting the heels off, I just kick up a bunch of dust. Behind me, Peeta spits. I meant to do that.

I turn back and see Peeta wiping dirt out off his mouth, just long enough to lose my footing.

My ankle twists and I feel a horrifying snap. Before I can even scream out in pain, I realize I'm heading for the wall. I can hear Peeta's footsteps with precision, him calling out for me. My head connects with the wall.

With a searing pain, everything goes black.

*Peeta's POV*

"One."

"Hey!"

"Two."

"Three!"

"You kids are going to regret this!"

I'm already much ahead of my wife, Katniss, who I have had to fight so hard to have.

Gale, two Games, wars, we've both sustained injuries so bad that I'm surprised I can even run on my fake leg, let alone faster than her. And that she can hear out of her left ear.

She's passing me now, and I whisper in her ear, which is right in front of me, "Slowing down?"

"No." Dust is flying at me. It gets all up in my face and in my mouth. I spit.

She looks back at me for a split second, but it's long enough. She loses her footing and her ankle twists. She doesn't cry out, she doesn't have time to before her head bashes into the wall next to us.

I don't remember how I got there, but I'm by her side, screaming for help, fighting back tears. She's unconscious, her ankle swelling rapidly, and blood flowing freely through a deep cut on her head.

Haymitch was right: We did regret this later.

"Help!" I scream. "She's not breathing! HELP!"

"Slow down, Blonde," says Haymitch. I'm not really sure how or when he got there. "She's breathing, calm down. Wipe your face before the camera sees!" he adds in a hiss. The tears are out of my eyes. I roughly drag my sleeve across my face.

"She's going to be fine," He assures me, striping off his jacket and pressing it to her head wound. "She's probably won't come to for a while— We need medical attention here!" He snaps at the camera man. "The girl is bleeding herself into a coma!" I gasp. Haymitch rolls his eyes. "Don't be such a girly girl! Man up and help your wife!" He thrust the bloody jacket into my hands. I keep it pressed to her head, observing her pale, expressionless face which is usually so full of life and love. This has to be worst day of my life.

Haymitch returns in a few minutes; it's clear that Katniss can't afford to lose much more blood.

"The EMTs are on their way," he pants.

I don't think she can hold on that much longer. I might not be able to. I'm trebling from head to foot.

"Calm down, kid, she'll be fine." Haymitch says uncomfortably. He isn't the consoling type.

When the EMTs finally come, they have a hard time prying me off of her. I may have diminished her chances of survival. It's mortifying to me that she could survive two Hunger Games and be killed by a stupid game of my creation.

I'm about to climb in the ambulance after Haymitch when one of the EMTs touches my arm.

"Only one," she says gently.

Haymitch looks at me desperately, obviously out of his comfort zone.

The ambulance doors shut and it races down the hill at top speed, leaving my eyes trailing it all the way out of sight.

The reporters swarm me.

"Mr. Mellark, how do you feel about this-?"

"No comment," I say dully, striding to my car.

The reporters won't leave me alone until I start driving away, my horn bleating the whole way.

After a grueling five minutes I burst into the hospital waiting room.

Haymitch is waiting for me.

"How are you holding up?" He asks.

Disredarding his question I ask, "Where is she? I need to see her."

"I'm not sure you want to see her just yet," He says. "That wall did a nasty job on her head and-"

"Where is she?" I snarl, cutting him off.

"There still stiching her up."

I collapse into a chair, my head in my hands. She's tough, I tell myself, she'll hold out. It seems I'm good at convincing everyone but myself.

"We need to tell her mother," I say after a long pause.

"I already did," says Haymitch. He's looking at magazine. "She'll be here tommorow; she's busy at work."

Katniss' mother works at a hospital in District 4. Unlike Katniss, she loves hospitals.

I sleep through the remainder of the day; they try to kick me and Haymitch out after hours when they find out nothing is wrong with us, but Haymitch convinces the woman that we are going to stay. He probably scared her.

The next day in the afternoon, a nurse ask me if I can come back to Katniss' room. I look around for Haymitch, but he's not there.

"Don't be alarmed, but she's having some issues," says the nurse as we approach the door.

Issues? This can't be good.

She opens the door. Haymitch is trying to calm a writhing and convulsing Katniss. The strange thing is she's unconsious still.

"Peeta," Haymitch warns, but I step up anyway put her hand in mine. She calms instantly.

It's like she can sense my presence or something.

Haymitch sighs. "Good job, Peeta," he says, a hint of pride in his voice. "Her mother is coming this afternoon. I'll be back then." He exits the room.

I sit down on the chair next to the bed, not letting go of Katniss' hand.

"Peeta," says a kind voice. It sounds like Katniss. "Peeta," it repeats. No, it's not Katniss. I open my eyes. It's her mother.

"Hi, Darla," I yawn. I've fallen asleep with my face on the bed. Katniss' hand is still in mine.

"How are you, Peeta?"

"I'm okay. How are you?"

"I'm just a little worried about her," she gesture to the bed. She smiles weakily. "She always finds some way to injure herself."

Before I can explain that it was in fact my fault, Haymitch comes back in.

"Darla," He says."Peeta, you need to eat. I think two people can hold down the fort here."

Darla touches my arm. "We'll get you if she wakes up. You can go to the cafe."

I nod.

I've barely gotten down the hall 30 feet when Haymitch crashes into me.

"She's screaming for you."

Together we dash back to the room.

More where that came from! I hope you liked it! :) Please REVIEW! :)