A Broken Mockingjay

Katniss's muffled cries of agony seep through the barrier that separates her from me. Her hands are locked over the sides of her head, and around her the jabberjays swarm and swirl in a mocking cry of torture. Those that don't taunt her are circling around Finnick, who is clearly in just as much pain but makes no sound.
I press my cheek against the cool glass of the invisible wall and call out to Katniss in a fit of hopelessness. She continues to sob, hardly hearing me at all, and I cry out in rage and desperation. By now we've both sunk to the ground, her curled into the fetal position and me pressing the side of my face harder against the obstruction.
All of Katniss's arrows are gone, buried in countless dead animals; wasted in a fruitless attempt to cease the birds' incessant shouts. I count the moments until the hour is up, when the barrier dissolves into nothing and Katniss's whimpers are finally audible.
"Prim," Katniss cries softly to no one but herself. "Prim, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
When I'm sure that the wall is gone, I quickly make my way towards the broken girl, lying on the jungle floor in a puddle of tears and birds' blood.
"Katniss," I breathe, stroking her back with my hand. "Katniss, it wasn't real. It's for the Games. It's just another one of Snow's torture devices. It's not real. It's not real." I repeat the words over and again but to no avail. When I see that my voice can't reach her through the hellish fog she's entered, I return to running my fingers over her braid and down her back.
When her hands have finally unclenched from over her ears, Katniss's grip instead moves to my shoulders, grasping firmly, desperately. My hand cradles her bloodstained cheek and she lifts her slate gaze to me. My own panic is reflected there, and behind it I detect something I can't quite place. Longing? Gratitude?
"Peeta," Katniss says softly.
"I'm here, Katniss," I reply. "I'm here. I'm always here."
I lower my body against her shivering one, hesitantly at first. Then she slumps in my arms, and I envelop her tighter. Her breath is warm against my cheek, and I relax slightly, forgetting everything about where we are, who we are. Only that I love this girl, and I will protect her with all that I can, for as long as I can.
Katniss pulls back and presses her lips against mine. I'm taken aback at first, and then I give in, tasting her on my lips and falling in love all over again. My hand reaches out and softly caresses her cheek. The stickiness of sweat on her skin brings me back to reality, and I'm the first to pull away, however reluctant I may be to do so.
The fear in her grey eyes has begun to dissipate, and we breathe against each other's mouths for several moments. I find myself falling under her spell once again, transfixed by her scared, wide, beautiful gaze, her full lips that contrast her hollow cheeks.
Johanna's voice breaks our reverie. "Alright, lovebirds," she calls from beside Finnick and Beetee. "We'd better get a move on."
I turn back to Katniss for a moment. She nods at me, smiles slightly and brokenly, and together the five of us cut forward through the underbrush.