Katniss

I scan the shelves for the box I need. The one my roommate, Johanna, said was most reliable - light purple with a splash of pink across the top. My eyes hurt from how quickly they widen in horror at the cost. Twenty dollars? That's all the cash I have in my pocket, and there's even less in my bank account until payday. God, I hope this test is negative. I knew babies were expensive, but I didn't think it started at conception. It's been two months and I'm never late, so the chances are low that it won't be positive, and my gut is twisting in what I hope is just nerves rather than morning sickness.

The girl behind the counter looks too friendly, like her life's goal is to memorize the names and addresses of everyone she meets and send them birthday cards every year. I keep my head down during the payment process, hoping she doesn't notice or care about what I'm buying. But tonight is just not my night.

"Oh! Is this for you?" she squeals in delight a little too loudly, clutching the box to her chest as if it were an actual baby, rather than a baby detector. If it had cheeks she'd probably pinch them. "I just love babies!" I discreetly roll my eyes as I hand over the cash. I tell her to keep the change, which would only have been six cents, and high-tail it out of the store, running right into a solid chest when I round the building where Jo's car is waiting for me.

Hands reach out to steady me, then release me as if they've been burned. I feel the searing imprint of those palms when I look into blue eyes I haven't seen in eight weeks. The exact same amount of time between our breakup and now.

His expression is as shocked as mine, but his usually warm eyes turn cold quickly. I match them, what tore us apart flashing vividly across my mind.

"What are you doing?" Peeta says, his voice oddly calm.

"I'm leaving," I reply, choking back tears. I don't want him to see me cry. I don't want him to see how much he affects me.

"Oh, yeah? Where to?" I can tell by his tone what he's about to say, and the minute Gale's name leaves his lips I start packing faster. I'd hoped he would see reason when I first began filling the bag, slow enough to be a warning that he was about to lose me, but he's too far gone. The jealousy that'd been festering inside him for the last three months has hijacked his brain. "Straight from me to him." It's not a question and his words are laced with a bitterness so heavy it's hard to breathe.

After two years does he even know me? "It's none of your business what I do anymore, Peeta," I snap, fully resigned to the fact that I can't handle one more discussion about Gale, about how he wants me, and that I'm too oblivious to see it.

Peeta

Fuck. The last thing I expected was to run into Katniss tonight. It's amazing this is the first time we've crossed paths in the last 8 weeks, 2 days and 17 hours. Not that I'm counting. Her eyes are as beautiful as ever, shining like moonlight, and her skin looks fresh and glowing. I was always a goner for her. Still am, and probably always will be. But I won't share her.

My life would be perfect right now if it weren't for Gale Hawthorne walking back into her life, and effectively mine, after eight years of being away. I knew Katniss had stayed in touch with a friend named Gayle, but I had never met the person until a few months ago. My insecurities shot through the roof when the six-foot-something, dark-haired, chisel-bodied man walked through our door and Katniss threw her arms around him. I swear the guy must have spent hours in the gym to get arms and a chest like that. He was all perfect white teeth and hilarious stories about adventure and woods and his family. Katniss laughed and hung on his every word.

"Katniss," I say, unable to hide the chill that hopefully covers the fact that I haven't even begun to recover from us. I shove my hands deep into my pockets and press my lips together hard to keep me grounded and try not to look at her too long. I'm not sure I can hide how much I want her back.

"Peeta." Her voice shakes and it cracks my already broken heart into smaller pieces. I know she's about to lose it because Katniss Everdeen's voice never wavers. I want so badly to crush her to me and tell her I'm an idiot. That I'm so sorry and I'll spend the rest of my life making up for what I said if she'll forgive me. But I know there's something she won't do, and that's what keeps me from throwing myself at her feet.

My heart pounds in my chest when Katniss grabs the bag and starts for the bathroom. I say nothing. Do nothing. Even though the last thing I want her to do is leave. My heart screams at me to tell her to stay, that I'm sorry. But my head is louder, questioning and confused. Why did she hesitate?

"Why can't you give me an answer?" I call out from the bed, choking the sheets inside my balled fists.

"It's not that simple, Peeta!" she yells from the other room, throwing her personal items in the bag. I hear the metallic zing of the zipper and my chest feels like it's about to split open when she darts out of the bathroom and into the hallway. I jump out of bed, stomping behind her as she continues to yell. "You can't just give me an ultimatum and two seconds to choose between the love of my life and my lifelong best friend!"

I angrily follow her to the door, reaching around before she can get to it and do the 'gentlemanly' thing - open it for her. I wonder who this person is that's taken over my body as I wave my arm into the darkness, letting her know she's welcome to leave. Whoever he is, he wants to shove a knife deep into her back, for her to hurt the same as he does.

She steps over the threshold and I see her hesitate, but my fury over this situation won't back down.

"Have fun at Gale's," I say before I can think better of it. She looks back at me and the pain in her eyes hurts worse than anything she could ever physically do to me. I caused that. But quickly it shrouds over to an anger I've never seen in Katniss. It's intense, like a roaring fire and I suddenly feel like I'm about to get burned.

"Fuck you, Peeta."

Katniss

Being near him again is opening the wound I tried so hard to close after our last encounter. I cried for four weeks straight. I tried so hard not to give my heart to him, knowing this could happen. But I had no choice in the matter. He stole it soon after we met. Blond hair that fell in waves over his forehead, a smile that shot an electric current from my heart straight to my core. He was attentive and caring, his blue eyes never once making me feel anything but adored. Now they hold only a trace of thinly veiled contempt.

He glances down and reflexively I jerk the thin, plastic bag behind my back, remembering what's in it and feeling as though he's acquired x-ray vision since we last saw each other.

He opens his mouth to say something, but the horn on Johanna's car interrupts him. Our heads snap in her direction, watching the window roll down and a cheeky smile appear on her face. "Back together again, you two?" she asks loudly. Despite Jo having spent the last two months helping me try to move on, she loves Peeta. She loves us even more together. Through all my crying and cursing his name, she never once said anything against him. She just stayed quiet, helped me focus on me.

Leave it to her, though, to make things more awkward. I feel like I need to escape now more than ever, so I give Peeta a tight smile, if you can call it that, and step around him. "See you later, Peeta," I say, though I don't actually hope it happens. My heart can't take it.

"Tell Gale I said hi," he taunts me. I stop in my tracks. I was so close to just getting in the car and leaving. Never having to deal with him and his impossibly blue eyes and that stupidly adorable chin dimple. But he's lit a fire in me with his wicked words.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I hiss at him, turning so fast I see stars and the end of my braid smacks my cheek so hard it stings.

"Come on, Katniss," he smirks arrogantly, showing off a beautiful smile, save for its brazen hatred. I wonder how I can both love and despise someone at the same time. "You're at the drugstore holding a bag you're trying to hide from me. Take your condoms and run off to your boyfriend." He turns, dismissing me so easily that the fire is becoming a raging inferno that I can't put out. I don't even bother to think before I pull the pregnancy test out of the bag and throw it at him. It hits the mark and his hand flies to the back of his head, rubbing it as he whirls around to glare at me, then at the object on the ground. He does a double take and freezes, one hand in his hair, the other clenched at his side. "I-is it… mine?"

He is acting like such an asshole. I consider what I should tell him now that he's seen the box. If I lie and tell him no, it will crush him. The power I hold in that one little word is blinding me, pushing any rational decision from my mind. I want Peeta to feel the depth of pain that he's inflicted on me.

So I smile and tell him it's Gale's.

Peeta

After Katniss told me she was pregnant with Gale's baby, I completely forgot what I was at the store to get. Instead I came home with a case of beer, intent on drinking my heartache away. If they find me drowned in my own vomit in the morning, so be it. Maybe Katniss will mourn me then.

No. Not him. Anyone but him.

The thoughts play through my mind like a broken record as I sit, opening bottle after bottle, gripping the metal cap hard enough to cut into flesh, the only words that circle through my thoughts are how could she? How could she throw 'us' away so quickly? How could she stop loving me in eight weeks when I can't stop thinking about her for two seconds? How could she sleep with him when I can't even look at another girl without feeling guilty?

The first pack is long gone when my blurry thoughts switch to Gale. Stupid, idiotic, fucking Gale. There are so many things I want to say to him. Well, not so much say as do. Things that involve my fist in his broody face. The thought of him with her like that… it makes my blood boil.

Not him. Anyone but him.

Before I know what I'm doing, I call for a cab and when it shows up, I give the driver the address it took me forever to find in the outdated phonebook. The driver eyes me nervously when I laugh out loud at the thought that he still lives with his parents. The loser. What's he going to do now that he has a family to take care of?

The realization that he has a family, my family - my Katniss and what should have been my baby - chokes the laughter away as quick as it came.

Anyone but him.

Katniss

I can't get the image of Peeta's face out of my head. I thought it would feel good to rip his heart out the way he did mine. When I think back to our last fight, I don't remember anything about his reaction other than sheer anger. He couldn't have given me one tear rolling down his cheek to match the hundreds that were streaming down mine? But as I lay on the couch, oblivious to the wetness soaking the pillow under my head, I can truthfully say I feel awful. The cold revenge I gave into so swiftly has only made my situation worse.

Johanna insisted I take the first test as soon as we arrived at her place. It's common to wait until the morning for a truer result, but she reasoned that if it was positive tonight, then most likely I wouldn't need the second stick.

And positive, it was. I'm going to be a mom. An unwed, unloved, twenty-something mom. I wonder if I can really stomach keeping this from Peeta. This baby would bind us together for life. I don't know if I can handle a lifetime of hateful looks and awkward silences between us. Especially when all I want are his arms around me, his voice whispering that it'll all be okay.

My phone is buzzing insistently on the end table but I don't want to talk to anyone, so I let it go

to voicemail twice. Johanna is out getting us dinner, and Peeta wouldn't call me right now if I were the last person on Earth, but when it starts again a third time I know whoever it is will keep on until I answer. I can barely make out the name Gale through the watery pools of tears waiting their turn to fall. I have no idea what could be so urgent that he wouldn't just leave a voicemail or send a text, unless - shit!

"Hello?" I pretend he's just woken me. It's not hard to mistake the rasp in my voice for sleepiness instead of heartache.

"Somethin' you wanna tell me, Catnip?" Nope, I think. I don't even hear him call me the pet name I hate so much, dragging in a shaky breath before I play innocent.

"I was in the middle of sleep, Gale, what are you talking about?"

"Your boyfriend just took a swing at me, screaming at me about being the father of your baby, and you don't know what I'm talking about?" He doesn't sound the least bit convinced of my lie, so I give up the act.

"It's not yours," I answer.

"No shit, Sherlock. I could've told you that." We both know it's not his, because we've only ever been friends. "So you... are?"

Even though we're only on the phone, the air between us is as pregnant as that test says I am. But somehow saying it out loud makes it final. Real. "Yeah," I whisper, hating how weak my voice sounds. Gale exhales so loudly I have to move the phone from my ear.

"Don't," I warn him. I can't stand the thought of him pitying me.

"Don't what? Don't care about my best friend who got knocked up by her douche of an ex? Sorry, but you don't get to tell me when I can care about you. And I care about you, Katniss. I want to help." It's the last thing I thought I'd want to hear, but somehow it lifts my spirits, even if just a little. I'll have Johanna, and now Gale.

"So what did you tell him?" I change the subject. The fact that I didn't refuse his help means I'll consider it. He knows that.

"I told him the truth. That it couldn't be mine." That means Peeta must know it's his. What am I going to do?

"What are you going to do, Catnip?" Gale echoes my thought. The nickname makes me feel like a child. Normally I'd protest the use of it, but right now I'd give anything to go back in time, feel like a carefree kid again.

"I have no idea," I tell him. I really don't. "I just found out, Gale. Literally a few hours ago." He makes a thoughtful sound before I'm startled by a loud banging on the front door. I know who it is, and the terror of facing him roots me to the sofa.

"Is that him?" Gale asks protectively. "I'm coming over, Ka-"

"No, Gale. This is something that's between me and Peeta."

"He's drunk, Katniss. What if he does something stupid? What if he swings at you like he did at me?"

"He wouldn't do that!" I hiss at Gale. We may not be together anymore, but I won't let Gale talk about Peeta like that. Peeta would never hurt me. In fact, if Gale hadn't moved back, Peeta and I would be dealing with this as a team right now. We were so happy.

"Hey, how was your day, Beautiful?" Peeta asks as he walks through the door, headed straight for me. He grabs my face and pulls me in for a long kiss before I can reply. It instantly makes me feel better.

"It was okay," I reply, not wanting to divulge too much about my jackass boss who barks at me for fresh coffee every thirty minutes, making it almost impossible to get any real work done.

"Tell me all about it," he urges, leading me to our bedroom where he slips out of his work attire - khakis and a button down have never looked hotter - to basketball shorts and a t-shirt that stretches taut across his pecs and strains the sleeves. Even better.

"Just my boss again. Nothing to worry about." I give him my best fake smile, even though I know he can see right through it. He knows me so well.

He smoothes my hair back and cups my cheeks."I want to hear it, Katniss." He drops a kiss to the tip of my nose, then pulls me to the kitchen where we work side by side, prepping for dinner - me chopping ingredients and setting the table, while Peeta grills the meat and makes the most flavorful sauce I've ever smelled. He has me laughing in no time, just as he always does.

My crappy work day forgotten, we feed each other tender slivers of chicken topped with mushrooms, or dollops of the fluffiest mashed potatoes with tiny puddles of melted butter throughout.

"So good," I praise with my mouth full. "What would I ever do without you?"

"You will never have to find out," he promises, before lifting his fork to my mouth for another bite.

The banging is more insistent now. "Gotta go, Gale," I say quickly, hanging up before he can answer when I hear a commotion in the hall. Through the door I hear Peeta shout angrily at my neighbor to back off. He's never spoken like that to anyone before and it terrifies me. I take two quick breaths and steel myself for what's coming.

Peeta

I stumble when Katniss throws the door open, scowling at me in a way that makes her beautiful as only Katniss can be. I can barely see her through the blur of my tears. Or maybe it's the beers. I don't know what is what anymore. Except that if she is pregnant, then the baby is mine. Mine. Not fucking Gale's. Having just heard it from him that he's never touched Katniss that way was the most joyous news I could have been given. Then I remembered why I was there in the first place.

"You lied," is the first thing out of my mouth. She tries to shush me, but I'm not having it. I need answers. "Why? Why would you do that?" I hate drunk me. I sound so god-awful and whiny. But I can't stop, and my head hurts from pulling continuously at the roots of my hair. "Were you ever going to tell me?" She doesn't answer, just looks away, and it pisses me off enough that I run my fist through the sheetrock just inside the door. Though she was never in danger, Katniss leaps backwards, mouth gaping and eyes huge. She looks between me, the hole in the wall, and my fist that is becoming redder by the second. I don't register any pain. Yet.

"Peeta! What has gotten into you?" she reprimands me like a child. My eyes burn with tears and I sink to my knees when my mood swings in a different direction, thinking of how great a mother she's going to be to my baby. I want to pretend the last eight weeks were a just a nightmare. I want to nuzzle her abdomen and talk to our baby. I want to hold her hair when she has morning sickness, and sleep snuggled up to her back with my arm draped over her rounded belly.

When I absently reach out to put my hands on her stomach, she stops me. My heart drops, then leaps at the brief sighting of compassion that flickers across her face when I look up. She sighs defeatedly.

"Come inside. You're bleeding."

Katniss

Peeta looks awful. I expected to see anger in his eyes, hear it from his lips, feel it roll off him in waves. But the sight before me is heartbreaking. He looks practically destroyed. His normally clear, blue eyes are cloudy and dull. His bottom lip is swollen, long-dried tear tracks are merging with fresh ones, and dirty hands, one now bloodied, reach out for me. His shirt is ripped at the collar and his jeans are brown at the knees. His expression is pleading, but for what, I'm not sure.

It's all I can do not to let his hands wander my belly where our baby is growing. Instead, I direct him to the bathroom, trying to wrap my head around being so close to him again while I dig through the cabinets in search of bandages and peroxide.

"Here," I say, turning on the faucet and guiding his hands underneath the stream of cool water, catching a whiff of beer on his breath. "How many?" I wait for his answer, watching as the sink is stained a mixture of red and brown before finally turning clear.

"Nine," he answers. While it's alarming that he's consumed that many since we ran into each other earlier, he seems to be holding out well enough, which brings up questions I'd rather not ask right now. I shut off the water and dab at the wetness with a dry towel until I can see what I'm dealing with. For so much blood, it's really not that bad.

"You won't need stitches at least. Just some bandages will be fine."

"Why did you tell me it was Gale's?" I stiffen at his question, shrugging my shoulders when I can't think of anything but the truth, my eyes never leaving his hands as I work. I can't tell him I wanted to hurt him as bad as he hurt me. That I'm still hurting and now I'll have a reminder of him for the next eighteen years.

"Tell me, Katniss." My name drops from his lips earnestly, and a single, traitorous tear slips down my cheek. I suck in a deep breath to get control, knowing other tears won't be far behind if I don't. Under my breath I curse my shaky hands that make it so difficult to finish applying the last of the bandages.

"Because," I whisper, squeezing my eyelids shut to fight back my emotions. "I just thought it would be easier that way. If you… if I-" A sob escapes and I'm unable to stop the emotion from flowing fast and free now, enough to keep me from making any sense if I speak. I bury my face in my hands and feel my shoulders begin to shake uncontrollably with weeks of pent up sorrow and hormones.

"Katniss." Peeta says my name again, this time so softly I can almost imagine we're back at our place, the last two months between us forgotten. His hands hover over my shoulders, as if he's not sure he should touch me. I'm not sure he should, either, but only because I may not ever recover from the crippling effect it will have on me.

Peeta

I'm seconds away from touching her, but I have no idea what to do. I know what I want to do - I want to pick her up and carry her all the way back to our house, make the emptiness there go away. I want to run my fingers through her silky hair and kiss her face and tell her I'll take care of her - of us. The three of us. I want to make it the four and five of us, build a life together.

Please don't cry, Katniss. The words stick in my throat and the pieces of my heart throb to be made whole again. Watching her like this - I can't. I physically can't take it anymore, so I give in to every part of me screaming that I'm an idiot and to hold her, and pull her to me.

"I- can't- take-" she says through sobs and ragged breaths against my chest, but I try to calm her down.

"Sssshh. You don't have to say anything now. It's okay." Is it, though? I don't know if I'm lying to her or to myself. I rub her back in soothing circles like I used to do when she'd get upset, and reflexively my lips pucker to kiss her temple. I catch my mistake before it's too late. "It's all going to be okay," I whisper into her hair, this time knowing that I'm definitely lying to myself. Nothing about this situation is okay.

Katniss begins to settle down after a few minutes and she removes herself from my embrace, keeping her eyes down. She's only 12 inches away from me and I miss her already.

"I can't take your hatred, Peeta." Her voice is small and weak. "I can't stand to see how you really feel about me all over your face. It's… crushing." The word comes out as if she's been punched in the gut, and her hand covers her heart impulsively, as if she's shielding it from me.

"I don't hate you, Katniss." Inside I'm begging her to believe me because nothing could be further from the truth. So I tell her, "I could never hate you. I haven't slept in 56 days. I've had to work the kitchen instead of the counter at the bakery because I'm practically a zombie. I don't eat, I don't talk, I don't go out." I drink a lot of beer, I think. I'm done holding back. It hasn't gotten me anywhere in the last eight weeks. It hasn't brought Katniss back to me. It hasn't given me any peace or semblance of normal life. I instinctively reach for her and bring her back to me, and relief floods me when she wraps her arms around my middle. It's the most whole I've felt since she left. I swallow and try to compose the emotion I'm feeling before offering the absolute truth. "Losing you is the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

Katniss

I don't know how long we stand there holding each other, but it's not long enough. Too soon he releases me, guiding me to the living room to sit on the couch.

"How can I fix this?" I hear him ask softly as my eyes close, heavy with exhaustion. Where do I start? A flash of anger courses through me when I think about telling him that he can start by turning back time and never saying hurtful things to me. Or he could have trusted me in the first place. But I'm too tired, and I'm not sure it matters now anyway.

I lay my head on the pillow and Peeta combs his fingers through my hair. The tender way he soothes me makes me miss him so much. I can't deal with these emotions right now. I'm hot, then cold. One second I hate him, the next I just want to curl up next to him so close that I have no idea where one of us begins and the other ends. It's the last feeling I give in to before I can think better of it.

"Stay with me?" I ask, not caring one damn bit that I sound like a weak-willed girl. Without hesitation, he curls up behind me on the couch and drapes his arm over my waist, his hand splaying over my belly. Warm puffs of breath on my neck relax me, and his fingers soon find their way under the hem of my shirt to trace little circles over our baby. I haven't felt this safe in months. Not since we used to fall asleep like this every night. Together.

"Always. I love you," he whispers into my ear. I believe him, and before I succumb to the exhaustion, I whisper it back.

Thank you for reading! This was my attempt at writing a semi-HEA. Something that wasn't an ideal situation and could go both ways, but you know they've got some work to do if they want it to be good again. I always love feedback, and this story is no exception. ;) Pbg