I don't own the Hunger Games. Sad, yes.

I hate trains.

That was Katniss Everdeen's first thought as she boarded the train once more. Twice before it had carried her to what she believed to be her death in the Hunger Games. She had travelled through the districts on the Victory Tour, and was faced with the families of the children whose lives were cut brutally short. There were no good memories associated with the train.

Before the 74th Hunger Games, she had never been on the train, and remembered the awe she had tried to hide as she saw the interior for the first time. Tables of food, spacious bathrooms, and a bed all to herself were foreign concepts to the young tribute. Then came the Victory Tour, and she was confined to the speeding contraption for weeks. It was still shiny and new, but her enthusiasm for it had diminished severely.

But through it all, she had Peeta by her side.

Peeta Mellark, the boy who had saved her from starvation, had become her rock following the Hunger Games. His declaration of love had saved them both from death in the arena, but her defiance of the Capitol had changed everything. They had been thrust back into the arena for the Quarter Quell, and Katniss had lost him forever.

Though Peeta had survived the Games, he had been captured by the Capitol when the Resistance rescued her. Citizens of Panem adopted her as the Mockingjay, the face of the rebellion against President Snow. Peeta became the Capitol's weapon to defeat her. The bruises had faded, but she could still feel his hands around her neck, attempting to strangle the life out of her.

It had been a brilliant move on the Capitol's part. Using tracker jacker venom, they had distorted his memories of Katniss. Gone was the boy who loved her unconditionally. Gone was the boy who would have sacrificed himself so she could make it safely back home. Gone was the boy who held her night after night as nightmares consumed her.

They had taken so much - Rue, Prim, Gale, her mother. But losing Peeta had been the hardest. While Rue and Prim had died and Gale and her mother had moved to other districts, Peeta lived just across the street from her in the Victors' Village. Since her return from District 13, she had spent much of her time watching Peeta's house. Though some semblance of the boy she once knew had started to come back, she feared he would never be the same.

Now, back on a train hurdling toward the Capitol for the one year anniversary of the rebellion's end, Katniss sat in her train car thinking about the boy with the bread. One room separated them, but it felt like miles. Their conversations had been stilted as he fought through the hijacking that turned him against her. He often excused himself when they were in a room together, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists to rein in his vicious thoughts. Haymitch, their former mentor, had insisted she keep her doors locked to prevent any accidents.

Sitting on the plush, king-sized bed, Katniss stared at the door, locked from the inside. Undoing her trademark braid, she combed through her dark brown hair with her fingers. Peeta often touched her hair, curling loose strands around his fingers as he fell asleep beside her. It had been a long time since she had slept well, missing the comforting arms that kept her safe from terrible, haunting dreams.

Turning off the lights, she climbed into bed and begged sleep to claim her. She was tired, but she couldn't seem to turn off her mind. Memories of Peeta lying beside her during the Victory Tour occupied her thoughts until they took a turn for the worse. Flashbacks of their time in Thirteen replaced the happy memory.

Attempting to strangle her.

Tossing Mitchell into the snare that killed him.

Begging for the nightlock pill.

And finally the explosion that killed her sister and injured the both of them.

Burn scars still covered most of her body, and she was sure Peeta's skin shared the same fate. A strangled cry escaped her throat as hot tears slipped past her gray eyes. Throwing back the blankets, Katniss climbed out of bed and unlocked the door. Without giving it a second thought, without thinking that Peeta could be in one of his venom-induced moods, she ran to his door and knocked hard. She continued pounding on the door until it opened.

Peeta rubbed sleep from his blue eyes, his blond hair tousled from restless sleep. "Katniss?" he asked as she launched herself into his arms. He stumbled back, but gained his footing as his arms wrapped around her tightly. There was nothing menacing about their hug. Both had missed the comfort the other provided.

They stood in the doorway, holding one another while Katniss cried. "I miss you," she murmured, repeating it like a mantra while he attempted to calm her.

"I'm right here," he assured her. Keeping one arm around her, Peeta led her to his bed and made her sit down.

She stared up at him through teary eyes. "But sometimes you aren't," she replied. "Sometimes I feel like we'll never be the same again."

"We won't be. We can't be the same people we were before," he said, taking a seat beside her. His arm wound around her shoulders and she gripped his hand between both of her own. "I'm still scared that I'm going to hurt you. My memories are still fuzzy, and I don't know what's real or fake. I've tried to keep my distance from you because of that."

"Do you feel it before it starts?" she wondered. "Or does it just take over with no warning?"

Peeta shrugged. "Depends on the situation," he replied. "I didn't leave my house for a week once when I saw you with your bow. I immediately locked my doors to keep you out because I was convinced you were coming to kill me. Haymitch finally broke down my kitchen door because he thought I was dead. And sometimes I see you doing something, tending the primrose bushes around your house, and it isn't until much later that the hijacking takes over."

"What do your memories tell you I'm doing with the bushes?" she asked.

"Harvesting the flowers to poison me," he said, a hint of a smile on his lips. "And then sanity takes over again, and I realize it's ridiculous to think you'd do anything to hurt me."

Katniss laid her head on his shoulder and squeezed his hand. "I never wanted to hurt you," she murmured. "Saving you was all I ever thought about."

"And when I'm completely lucid, I know that," came Peeta's reply. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head as he stroked her arm. "You should get some sleep. We've got a celebration to attend tomorrow."

Lifting her head from his shoulder, Katniss frowned. "I can't sleep," she admitted. "Knowing where we're going, I keep seeing their faces every time I close my eyes."

Peeta rose and pulled her to her feet. One hand still clutched in hers, he used his free hand to pull back his blankets. "In," he said with a small wave of his hand.

She stood hesitantly by the side of the bed, biting her lip. "What if you have an attack?" she asked, suddenly worried that he might smother her with a pillow in her sleep.

He cupped her cheek as he looked deep into her eyes. He saw her fear, but there was something else reflected back in the dark pools of gray. Love, he thought. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips against hers, and asked, "You love me. Real or not real?"

"Real," she said without hesitation.

"We're gonna be okay, Katniss," he whispered, kissing her once more.

And in that moment Katniss believed him.

Peeta would never fully recover from his hijacking, and Katniss's nightmares would never go away. But they had each other. They loved and supported, cared for and comforted one another. Together, they were okay.

The End.