I Deserve It

A/N: Just something I wrote after finishing The Hunger Games, out of boredom in waiting for the stores to open, so I could buy the other two. I realize that Katniss is really out of character, but personally out of my weird obsession for Peeta, she deserves it.

"Peeta...don't go...please." I said this mainly for my own benefit, trying to ignore the growing crowd around us. I ignored what everyone would say, what everyone would think, what Gale would think. I ignored what effect my quiet, pained voice would have on Peeta. I definitely regretted that when he turned back to me.

"Why should I, Katniss? There are no more cameras. You can stop pretending," he said, trying to hide the pain from his face. But nothing could hide it from his eyes. He couldn't pretend this wasn't hurting him; so much as I could, which was saying a lot. I also couldn't pretend to not hear the way he said you, as if I didn't already know.

"But I wasn't...I told–" I started, even knowing there was no point.

"But you were. Katniss, you don't get it. Did you think that you would never have to explain, or that we would just die anyways?" he said, and probably for the first time, I was scared of him. His menacing look wasn't it; it was the look of pain and knowing I caused it.

He walked away that day, as everyone expected he would. The crowd began to dissipate soon after that, leaving me to sink to my knees. Call it irony, my bad luck or just what I truthfully deserve, but the rain started pouring. It may as well have been my tears.

Somehow I managed to make it to the house that night and climb into bed still in my wet attire. I knew that I'd probably woken Prim with the slopping sound of water dripping out of my hair. But she didn't say anything. Only when my dry sobs shook me did she wake up and put her hand to my cheek.

"Katniss...what's wrong?" she asked, keeping her voice low so as to not wake our mother.

I was incapable of answering without crying, so I shook my head. Crying was beyond something I ever wanted to do over a boy. It shows weakness, inability to be independent. That wasn't me. If anything people expect me to be 100 times stronger after those games, the days of near starvation and learning to count on people for your life. But no, I had to become a mess of person, unable to go on without a man to cling to. I had to believe it was more than that.

"Nothing...go to sleep, Prim," I whispered, my voice hoarse and scratchy.

I refused to let myself sleep, maybe subconsciously because all that I could see when I closed my eyes was the events of that evening.

Gale and I had been reunited for the first time since the games, and decided against sneaking through the fence as the last of the cameras cleared out of the district. Still, we stood in the outskirts, just talking. A very awkward air was between us as we both thought of the one person it could be caused by. Peeta. I was sure that he was thinking of the times we had kissed. Had he believed it? Had he thought it was fake? Was it really?

I tried to push those thoughts out of my head, and did my best to smile at him. I understood how even that was a little strange coming from me.

"Katniss, really?" he said, a little impatiently.

"Yeah I know...sorry, I just don't know what to say."

He didn't reply; he was looking in the general direction of the town. I turned and could see the people watching us, trying not to be obvious. I could tell he had something to say, and that he wasn't happy about it, from the way he swallowed.

I looked around the bedroom, not wanting to relive this part, but I guess I deserved it. But even reliving it couldn't make it sink in deeper, I said what I said. And I regretted it deeply.

"What exactly happened out there?" he said suddenly. Sudden, but not unexpected. I should have known it was coming. Scratch that: I knew it was coming, I just hoped it wouldn't.

"Gale..." I started, unable to continue, for he has begun to raise his voice. He said things about who knows what; all I could focus on was my anger at why the hell he would even care.

"It's not like it meant anything! And it's not like I mean anything to you!" I just snapped, unable to hold back the words that had been in my mouth since Peeta had first made his impression.

Gale's eyes widened as he looked over my head. I hoped it would just be the crowd getting closer, but hopefully not cameras. But from the look on his face I knew it was Peeta. I turned to face him. He had a flower in his hand, the same type from the night on the train, the wild onions. But he dropped it the second he met my eyes.

Why am I so stupid? For the past few days I kept telling myself, he's not being fair and that put in my position he would do the same thing. But I knew he wouldn't. I knew he's the much better person that in whatever he did, he wouldn't deliberately hurt me, because unlike me, he would have probably thought about the consequences.

"It meant nothing, huh?" he said. "Well that's just great, sweetheart." The contempt in his voice was hard to listen to. "You know I never faked once. And you still didn't answer my question, how many times did you fake it?"

Gale stepped in at exactly the wrong moment, "You won't talk to her like that." It was a strange form of chivalry coming from him.

And it was just like in my head. Thoughts of Peeta and Gale went as well together as the real Peeta and Gale did. This wasn't right, none of it was. But how could I fix it if I couldn't figure out what my heart was saying, let alone what to say with my mouth?

"Katniss, if all of that was fake, why didn't you just kill me?" Peeta said, trying to keep a straight face, and managing very well.

"You know that's not fair!" I said, weakly.

"Isn't it?" he said.

"How could I? It's the same with you, Peeta, you couldn't have done it!" I said, not knowing where to go with that. I guess I should have known that anything I said could be used against me, in only a way it could if I was truly wrong. If I truly deserved it.

"That's because I love you. What's your excuse?" With that he began to turn his back, I felt tears already coming, threatening to spill. I would let them this time. Bottling up everything can only get you so far. Pain of knowing that I hurt him was bad enough.

I knew it all along though, that was the worst part. All the times I thought he was being cruel and that it wasn't fair, I knew the truth. That I was being unfair to him. That faking love is beyond any cruelty he ever could or ever would do to me. And that I deserved it, beyond doubt.