Always

Without Him

The breath is torn from my lungs when my ear is met with silence. The sound of my husband not breathing. The sound of him never meeting his child.

The sound of death.

I shake him, slap him, I try everything begging him to wake up. His bright blue eyes will never twinkle with laughter and love again. They are dark and lifeless. His once strong arms that would wrap around me and send me a comforting squeeze are limp at his side.

Peeta is dead.

His mouth is in a straight line, never to form a smile again. Never to laugh. His laugh, the sound that filled my own heart with joy. His hands lay in the dirt, the hands that made me breakfast every morning. The hands that will never be able to hold his child.

He's gone.

I open my mouth to scream at him for leaving me, for leaving us, but I'm shoved away and pushed into the dirt. Finnick appears in my tear-blurred vision and just as I'm about to lunge at him and push him away from Peeta, he does something that stops me in my tracks. He presses his mouth to Peeta's.

And I watch, almost mesmerized, as Peeta's chest rises in response.

I've only seen my mother use this technique a handful of times. When someone's heart stops beating in 12, there's no time to take him or her to my mother. Slowly, my brain begins to fight against the hysteria and grief, and I realize what Finnick is doing. Resuscitation. Finnick has pinched Peeta's nostrils closed as he breathes air into Peeta's lungs. He then begins doing compressions on his chest, forcing Peeta's heart to pump blood. I watch, dazed, as Finnick continues these motions.

I drop to my knees beside Peeta once more, though I make sure to give Finnick space to work. I take Peeta's hand, that are so large and strong compared to mine, and clutch it tightly. When I begin to talk to him, I'm not screaming like I was before. My voice is barely above a whisper. I plead with him to come back; I beg him to come back. I remind him how he is my jabberjay, my other half. I remind him how I can't survive without him. I remind him about the baby and how he'll never get the chance to know his son or daughter if he doesn't wake up.

"Please, Peeta. Please wake up." I beg and I let my tears fall on to his face.

His eyes open and stare back at mine, the blue shining with new life. "Only because you said please." He whispers.

"Peeta!" I sob and lay my face on his chest, taking in his scent and the sound of his heartbeat. The strong and steady sound that means he is alive.

"Better be careful, there's a forcefield up ahead." He tells me and I laugh while continuing to sob.

He's alive.

His heart is beating.

"I thought you had left me." I tell him and snot runs down my face, as the tears continue to come.

He shakes his head and pulls me back against him. "I could never leave you."

I continue to cry and notice Finnick watching us with a bewildered look.

"Shhh Katniss, it's okay. I'm alive." He tells me while trying to soothe me.

"It's just the hormones, from the baby." Finnick tells him and Peeta chuckles whiled nodding his head.

"No, it's not!" I yell at them continuing to cry, I face Finnick with a glare but my face turns soft when I see Peeta.

"How do you deal with the mood swings?" Finnick asks Peeta shaking his head.

Peeta chuckles once more and his chest vibrates beneath my ear. "It takes a lot of patience."

I wipe the tears away and help Peeta to his feet. "We need to keep going, we still haven't found water." He tells us and I adore him for being to continue pushing on.