A/N: This fan fiction was co-written by myself and the lovely Whiterosewriter. She will also be posting this story on her account. This idea came out of absolutely nowhere; in fact, I wrote the opening sentence in "Notes" on my phone, handed it to Clary (whiterosewriter) and said, "Make this into a fan fiction." We took turns with the phone, alternating sentences until this was born. Sorry that it isn't long, but I wrote it on my phone so it looked longer on there! So anyways, yeah, please enjoy! And don't forget to follow, favorite, and REVIEW! :)

Thanks lovelies,

~Summer and Clary

My heart pounds in my chest as I rush to barricade the door. I can see the wood start to splinter, and the sound is deafening. He is coming; I can tell by the way that the door is failing that he is slamming his body against the door.
He crashes through, the force sending him sprawling to the floor. I cry out, terror coursing through my veins. I just need to stay alive for a few more minutes, just a few more minutes and then Peeta would be here. To save me.
I pull the knife from my belt, hardening my gaze at the man in front of me. "Get back," I croak, trying-and failing-to be strong.
The large, husky man just laughs.
"Please, Gale," I cry, my hand resting on my stomach.
"Oh Catnip," he chuckles, "how very naive you are."
My eyes rest on the doorway; Peeta should be here by now. Worry seizes my brain and my stomach ties itself in a knot. What had Gale done to him? All I could think about is the last words I had said to him.
"Our baby will be so beautiful," I had said. Not completely thoughtless, but still. We might not have the baby now. I can see the look in Gale's eyes, the same look he got right before he went for the kill.
"What were you thinking?!" He screams, and I can't help but flinch.
This isn't the Gale I knew; my marriage to Peeta has turned him into a monster. Where is Peeta? A tear spills out over my cheek.
"Gale please," my voice breaks, the knife lay forgotten, "I know you, you hate hurting people, you'd never hurt me." Then again I thought he'd never hurt Peeta.
"I hate hurting innocent people," he spits, "and you are not innocent. You're a killer yourself; a cold-blooded killer."
"That was different!" I cry. "That was the games! I had no choice!"
"You could have died! You would have been innocent!" I am appalled; I can't believe that Gale would rather me die then be a killer. "You're just like them. You played their games, followed their rules; you aren't Catnip anymore. You are carrying some stranger's baby! Which is why I have to kill you."
I just stare at him. I realize that there is something really really wrong with him. "The Capitol was overthrown! I helped overthrow the freaking government, Gale!"
"That doesn't matter! They were falling apart anyways! There was a plan and you wrecked it, you and your vile 'Mockingjay'. I'm doing Panem a favour."
I stare at him, dumbfounded. "You're insane..." I murmur, bending down to pick up my knife. "Gale, you don't know what you're talking about. You aren't okay. I'm..."
There is a crash, and a limp body falls over the broken down door. I know that it is Peeta. Luckily, Gale's back is turned towards him, so Peeta is safe. For now.
I can not let my eyes deceive me, and so I control my emotions. I want to scream, to cry, to rush over to Peeta's body and save him. But I need to be strong, for now.
"You're my best friend, Gale," I say, trying to buy time. "I love you."
"You...you love me?" Something changes in his face.
"Yes. And I understand that you are angry and want to kill me, but please," I clutch my stomach for effect, "spare the baby."
It was the wrong thing to say.
The furious anger in his eyes returns, and I back up towards the wall. A meek, "Get away from her!" comes from Peeta. I gasp as Gale spins around. He screams and moves to throw his own knife towards my husband.
But I am faster, and I tackle Gale before he could release the knife. Swallowing my tears, I smash his head against the floorboard, knocking him out. I leap off of Gale's unconscious body and run over to Peeta.
He is lying face up on our old door. His hair is still perfect, his eyes still shining bright. His white shirt is soaked with blood. "Oh, Peeta." I sob, tears dripping down my face. I am violently shaking now; I could not control myself any longer.
"I'm okay." He chokes.
"Oh, Peeta." I repeat.
He reaches up and cups my cheek in his hand, catching my tears with his thumb. "I'm sorry," Peeta says, "I should have protected you better. I didn't know he was coming..."
"Stop." I croak.
He chuckles. "I guess you never needed me to protect you anyway..."
He falls into a fit of coughing, and I can see the gash in his stomach growing worse. Gale must have stabbed him-I recognize the wound as a knife cut.
I collapse, burying my head in his shoulder-the least bloody part of him.
"Hey," he says, trying to comfort me. "I'm okay."
I nod, regaining my composure. "Yes, you are. Or, you will be. Get up, I'll bring you to Mom..."
Peeta just shakes his head. "There isn't time. Just... Stay with me."
I look over at Gale one more time, plotting what I will do to him when he wakes. Will I kill him or give him up to the police? Hatred burns deep in my stomach, replacing the love I once felt for him.
I turn back to Peeta, leaning down and kissing his soft lips. "Always," I tell him.