Written for "Fanfiction Writing Contest"

Author: MissyBlack31

Fandom: Hunger Games

Title: Criminal

Rated: T

Word Count: ~1900

Pairing: Katniss/Peeta/Gale

Genre: Romance and Hurt/Comfort

Summary: Haymitch is once again mentoring Katniss but this time, instead of helping her through the arena, he's leading her through the minefield of her love life. Inspired by the song "Criminal" by Fiona Apple (lyrics in bold italics)

Katniss's POV:

Heaven help me for the way I am

Save me from these evil deeds

Before I get them done

I know tomorrow brings

The consequence at hand

But I keep livin' this day

Like the next will never come

Oh, help me

But don't tell me to deny it

I've got to cleanse myself of all these lies

Till I'm good enough for him

I got a lot to lose, and I'm bettin' high

So I'm beggin' you

Before it ends, just tell me where to begin

What I need is a good defense

'Cause I'm feelin' like a criminal

And I need to be redeemed

To the one I've sinned against

Because he's all I've ever knew of love

Gale leaves sweet kisses along my bare shoulders as I prepare to leave. A sock in each hand, I look back at him with a smirk. I know his game, but I've stayed in his bed long enough for one day. I need to get back home before Peeta and the children wake for the day.

The familiar guilt bubbles in my stomach as I put on my jacket and grab my kill, today two hens that are hanging from the porch rail of Gale's cottage. Gale stands behind me, naked as the day he was born, and waves to me as I throw my hens in a rucksack and start my jog home.

He doesn't ask me to stay anymore.

He knows I can't give him anymore than I already have.

He stands and waves, the rising sun coloring his fading form in red and orange, as he disappears from my sight and I make my journey home.

Gale is all that is left of my past, my childhood, my innocence. I lost all of that in the arena. Despite the sin he drags me into, day after day, I would never blame him for the condemnation of my soul. That privilege was given to a game that ended a long, long time ago.

He is a reminder of who I was before the games and for that reason I can't seem to let him go.

When I reach my door, I notice it's slightly ajar. There are no sounds in the house but I'm on alert, dropping my bag on the porch and reaching silently for my bow as I tip toe into my kitchen. There at my table is not my husband or children, but Haymitch.

I swallow my surprise, not wanting to wake the household, and lower my weapon. Haymitch smiles his toothy grin and tilts his head in greeting.

"How ya doin', Katniss?" he asks, his voice void of his usual slur. He looks at me intently, sizing me up for something I haven't figured out, and his focus is unnerving.

"Fine." I answer, voice still quiet like it is when I'm on the hunt. I can't figure out what's more unnerving, seeing Haymitch sober or his accusing stare.

We're both silent for many minutes before he shakes his head and smiles again. "Aren't you going to offer me a drink, welcome me into your home? I haven't seen you in what … six years?"

I nod but say nothing, the shock and tension still sending tingles across my skin, as I hang up the bow and arrows and go over to the stove. I put on the kettle, boiling water for coffee, before turning to face Haymitch again.

He hasn't changed much in the last decade. Wrinkled clothes and unshaven face, like he just woke and went out of the house without the sight of a shower or mirror. His eyes are alert and fixed on me. He isn't drinking from a flask, that's different, and he seems less shaky and unstable.

That's a big change if I'm honest, his alcoholic tremors a large part of what I associate with Haymitch.

He's quiet as the coffee warms. I set two cups on the table and sit across from him, waiting for the reason for this visit to unveil. I squirm a bit on the hard seat, sore from both the hunting and my other activities with Gale, and Haymitch's wolfish grin widens.

"How is our old friend Gale?" he asks glowingly and I suddenly know it's all over.

He knows.

Somehow he knows.

I gasp, leaning back in my seat struggling for air. I've spent enough time in the woods, in the arena, in the hunt, to know when someone is following me. I would have heard him surely … and it's not like Haymitch is light-footed or sprite.

"How?" is the only word I can manage, still gasping for breath. I know my face has lost all of its color and I probably look faint. I haven't felt this kind of panic since we left the Capitol. I can feel my heart beating so loudly, I worry that the sound alone could wake Peeta.

Oh, God … Peeta!

Haymitch's smile disappears and he shakes his head. "Save Peeta, you said. He's all that matters, you said. Why would you go to all that trouble Katniss if you were just going to twist the knife in yourself?"

I bite my hand to keep in the scream that threatens to erupt in my throat, my vision blurry with tears as I try to come up with some kind of explanation. Some kind of defense for my actions.

There is none. I'm reprehensible, wicked, abhorrent. I know it. Haymitch knows it … and soon Peeta will too. My quiet life is about to implode on itself and there's nothing I can do to stop it.

Haymitch then surprises me again by reaching across the table and taking the hand that isn't currently lodged between my teeth. He looks … empathetic. I squint at him, wondering where the Haymitch I know has gone. This man is someone completely new.

"I'm going to help you, Katniss."

My sobs overtake me and I have to step outside. Haymitch follows, one gentle hand on my back to steady me as I hurry out of the house. His hand stays there, rubbing in circles, as he waits for me to calm down.

At last, the sobbing dies down enough for me to speak.

"How did you find out?" My voice is no more than a squeak. It's weak and scared and I wonder if I've ever sounded this small. If I have, I can't recall it.

Haymitch grimaces and puts his arm around my shoulders, leading me to the garden where a small patio set sits, overlooking the primrose bushes.

The weeping returns full force. I sit in a chair, my face in my hands, and Haymitch scoots the other chair over so he's right beside me.

"Shhh … enough of that. Listen to me. You still have a chance to salvage this train wreck. I heard of this in the marketplace, so the news has already spread. It's too late to contain it, but we can try to do some damage control."

I squeeze my eyes tight, pushing down the anguish to let it swim with the guilt deep in my belly, as I desperately try to clear my head. I let my mind travel back to when Haymitch led me through battle, listening to his advice and following his instructions. Letting go of that control, knowing that I can't help the outcome. I scrub my face with my hands and try to focus.

Finally, I look at him and nod to let him know I'm ready.

Haymitch takes my hand and squeezes it. "Okay. First, you have to tell Peeta the truth. You have to tell him about the affair today, when and how long it's been goin' on … all of it. If he hears it from you before anyone else, you may be able to save your marriage."

The lump, now the size of a boulder, returns to my throat but I nod to let him know I'm following.

"Then, you have to promise him that it will never happen again. And, Katniss, this part is important, it CAN NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN. Understood?"

I feel a cutting pain in my chest, a serrated blade twisting through my heart, but I push past this agony as well and nod again. I can't stop the silent tears that spill from my cheeks. I knew I couldn't keep Gale … not forever. I think in the back of my mind, I knew I'd have to let him go, but I always thought I'd have more time to prepare myself.

Not like this.

Never like this.

But as much as it hurts, I know losing my family would not just hurt me. It would kill me. Just like in the Hunger Games, I'm faced with an impossible choice. I have to sever something of myself in order to survive.

I rub my face with my free hand, squeezing Haymitch's hand with my other.

"Thank you, Haymitch." The words are choked by my grief but he still hears.

He nods and squeezes me back. "Don't thank me yet, sweetheart. We still have a lot of ground to cover. I'll talk to him too. It will take time for him to trust you again but if you tell him the truth now, it'll go a long way to getting him there."

I nod my head and take a deep breath, pulling myself back together. I hear sounds coming from the house now, pans clanging on the stove, small running feet, tinkling laughter. I stand on wobbly legs and Haymitch pulls me into a hug before pushing me towards to the house.

"Go get em, Mockingjay."

I wave goodbye and make my way back to my home. When I make it through the door, Peeta is standing there, his blond hair is a wild tangle on his head and he's still wearing his pajamas, but he's moving through the kitchen like a professional, whipping up breakfast for his family. He's so goddamn beautiful in that second, I feel fresh tears threaten to spill yet again.

I don't allow it, instead I carefully walk up to his side and kiss his cheek.

"Real or not real?" I whisper, repeating the familiar question in his ear and pulling him close, immediately feeling enveloped in his warm embrace.

"Real." He says with a loving smile, kissing my temple.

"I love you." I tell him in return, some strength returning to my voice as I look up into his bright blue eyes.

His smile grows and he kisses me softly on the lips. "Always."

I don't let him go, clinging to his side as he finishes his baking, praying to whoever is listening that his words ring true.