Here's something that I hope everyone enjoys. I've been thinking for a while that I need to write something like this, to get over the sadness for Katniss and Peeta that I felt when he was hijacked. I hope it makes you guys feel better, like it did for me! Review!

I lie awake, staring at the ceiling of the bedroom they're keeping me in. I try and clear my head, to block out the horrible memories and facts that are trying to consume me. But it doesn't work too well, because as hard as I try, the only thought I can be brought back to right now is that Peeta will never be the same. He will never be the boy with the bread ever again.

I feel wetness on my face, and realize that I'm crying. I wish now that I had let myself feel for Peeta what I had been holding in, too afraid of love to let myself believe in it. But I know now that the act I've been keeping up on television is more real than we thought - than I thought, even.

But now it's too late. He's gone.

The man the Capitol has left for me isn't the one I knew before - he's nothing like him at all. He will never have the same soft, light glow to his eyes, or the same laugh. He will never be able to wrap his arms around me and send away the nightmares, because now, he will be the source of them.

I take in a shaky breath, closing my eyes. I want to run away from everything that is happening to me, and from everything that will happen to me. I know from experience that things can only get worse for me, and I don't want to be here to witness it all.

All I see behind my eyelids is blackness, and I take comfort in the simplicity of it. With my eyes closed, I can pretend that the world isn't crashing down around me. I can pretend that Peeta was never hijacked, that he never tried to kill me, and that he never yelled terrible accusations at me - accusations I can't even bear to think of.

This is how I will spend my time now, instead of letting the weight on my chest drive me to insanity - if this isn't insanity in itself. I will just lie here with my eyes closed, shutting off the world and everyone around me.

The only person that could possibly pull me out from this is gone. So why bother trying anymore? Why bother to fight, when I know that I won't be able to keep myself together? The Rebellion might as well be handed over to someone more capable. Clearly, I was never put out for this kind of life if I can't handle heartbreak.

I hear the door open, and a stream of brightness cuts across the blackness I was trying to consume myself in. I don't acknoledge the person who has just entered my bedroom, because I don't want to see anyone right now. Even having Prim here would make things worse.

"Leave me alone," I whisper. I'm not sure if any real sound has left my mouth, and I don't care.

It's quiet for a few minutes, and I wonder if he or she heard me and left, before the person responds.

"Katniss," he says. His voice sounds so broken, and so pained, that I almost believe for a second that this is real.

I freeze. Did I fall asleep after all? This must be some kind of awful dream, a dream that will just make me miss the boy he used to be even more.

I roll over in bed, squeezing a pillow over my ears to block out his voice. But it's not long before the pillow is yanked from my hands, and my eyes pop open against my will. Blue eyes stare back at mine from right beside me. He is standing beside the bed, looking down at me with so much sorrow and fear that I want to look away.

But I can't. Because his eyes don't burn into mine like lazers, and his face isn't twisted into discust. Instead, he has tears running down his face, leaving marks as they descend.

He whispers my name again, and I can't seeing him like this anymore. I don't care if this is all a dream, and I'll wake up tomorrow missing him even more. All I care about is that at this moment, I can pretend none of it happened, that he was never yanked away from me.

I reach my hand out to him, and he takes it in his own. His real hand, touching my own. With real bones and real skin and real everything.

"...Peeta?" I whisper. "Am I still asleep?"

He doesn't answer me, and I look up at him. His eyes have a panicked look in them, like he's trying to remember something but he can't. "What happened to me?"

At this moment, instead of crying even harder and feeling broken, I almost smile.

Because if he doesn't remember, then that means the hijacking wasn't permanent after all. It means that we still have hope.

"Peeta, you don't remember?" I ask softly.

His head moves from side to side in alarm. "I... I remember the arena exploding... and hovercrafts grabbing me and taking me away. I remember being so scared... so scared for you, because I didn't know if you were okay!" His eyes are wider than I've ever seen them. "Then I woke up, in a white room, and they were torturing me. But then they'd bring in needles, but I didn't know what was in them. I would have nightmares, and they would never end. You..."

His shakes his head and pulls his eyebrows together in frustration. I can tell that he's trying his hardest to remember.

"They tried to make me hate you... but... I could never hate you," he finally finishes.

I could never hate you... his words repeat in my head, and the tears come down faster, this time in relief.

His sits down on the bed and pulls me closer. I crawl into his lap and bury my face in his chest, breathing in the scent of freshly baked bread and cinnamon, the smell that is always on him, no matter where we are. I decide right then and there that it is my favorite scent in the world.

"I thought I lost you," I choke, biting my lip to try and stop the hiccup noises that I make when I cry.

"I'm so sorry, Katniss," he says, pressing his face into my hair.

I pull back after a few minutes, to look at him. I take in the yellowing bruises on his cheeks and neck, and the long streaks his tears have left on his face. Another starts making it's way down to his chin, but I stop it with a kiss. I taste the salt on my lips, and continue doing this until he wipes my own tears away with his fingers. Even after all of the torture he went through, they still caress my cheeks softly.

I close my eyes in bliss, leaning farther into him. We fall back onto the pillows, and we turn onto our sides to look at eachother. His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me right up against his hard-muscled chest.

"I could stay here like this forever," he says, leaning his forehead down to rest against mine.

We stay like that for a few more seconds until he whispers, "So you'll allow it?"

We both smile, remembering the time he said that before, on the roof of the place we stayed in the Capitol before the Quell. He really does remember everything.

"I'll allow it," I say.

Peeta kisses me, and I swear it's like all of the terrible things that have happened to me, with the Hunger Games, and the Quarter Quell, happened for a reason. It's like we were both forced into the arenas, and into our worst nightmares, just so that we can be lead together.

Being here in Peeta's arms, I feel a new appreciation for the suffering. Because with it, came this.

This turned out better than I thought it did, considering I was like half-asleep when it was written XD Fanfiction keeps you up at night ( the morning?) :/


Review, please!