A/N: Thank you to everyone who is following, favoriting or reading. And a huge special thank you to crankygrrl, who left me a review, it totally made my day and spurred me on, I really appreciate you taking the time to comment :)

How sleep the brave

Katniss falls asleep on their way back to the training centre and her head lolls on Peeta's arm as he supports her in the elevator up to their floor. Effie stifles a yawn with the back of her hand, fluttering her fingers as she does so. Her eyelashes sparkle but her eyes are dull, matt. She is tired. She is tired as they all are. Effie narrows her eyes at Peeta as if to see him more clearly and he does his best to school composure into his features. His heart drums in his chest and he knows he is not going to be able to sleep. He has to stir Katniss to get her walking down the corridor to their quarters and he only realizes Effie is following them when he reaches the bedroom door. Peeta opens his mouth to speak but she shakes her head and takes Katniss' other arm. In the room they lay her on the bed and remove her shoes, pulling the quilt up over her. She barely stirs.

"She is so tired," Effie says and her voice is flatter than Peeta has ever heard it.

Peeta rubs his eyes, sure they are bloodshot, and sits on the end of the bed. Effie sits beside him as if she is perching on the bench of a rowing boat.

"Can I help you?" she asks.

Peeta smiles, shaking his head as he looks at her. "No, Effie, you can't."

Effie presses two fingers to her gold lips, chapped now.

"But thank you," Peeta says, taking her other hand. "I'm going to go wake Haymitch."

"He didn't want to come to the party. I'm afraid that doesn't look terribly supportive, and we should be a team, after all."

"We are a team." He gives her hand a squeeze and they get up, leaving the room and shutting the door behind them.

Haymitch is in the living room, and stone cold sober.

Peeta steps through the door and immediately feels a jolt as Haymitch flies at him, pushing him back into the gossamer curtain that covers one of the glass walls. Effie inhales as if taking her last breath before uttering a squeak, one hand clasped to her bosom.

"Haymitch!"

Peeta swallows with difficulty as his mentor twists the fabric at the collar of his shirt.

"Don't you wriggle away from me."

The words are a hiss and Peeta smells stale breath as Haymitch rasps into his face. Tears find their way into the corners of his eyes and he wants to scream or laugh, but he can't cry any more. Beneath him his leg weakens and a bolt of pain shoots up from the point where the prosthetic limb joins his upper thigh.

"I-I needed to talk to you."

"Did you?" Haymitch pushes him back, not relinquishing his grip. "How timely. You see you're not the only one who is concerned about your fellow victor. So, like a good mentor I made it my business to take a little look at Katniss' medical stats, to be on the safe side before training, you understand? And what do I find?"

Peeta holds his gaze; his lips pressed together, a nerve at his temple flicking.

"What do I find?"

"Katniss is pregnant."

Haymitch releases him, reeling backwards and throwing his hands up in the air in mock celebration. "Bingo!"

"I didn't know until tonight."

"Really? Because that would be irresponsible wouldn't it, if you knew and didn't tell me. Hmm? I have a question: how stupid are you? This from the boy who came to me moments after the Quarter Quell announcement to beg for my help, my help to save her, to give her the best chance. And now you, you," Haymitch jabs his finger in Peeta's face, "are the reason she will die."

Peeta's posture slips. He has no defence. Haymitch is right to be angry. His eyes close for a moment and he waits, for something, anything. It presses against him, thick and black like oil, like coal dust when it's wet.

"Don't tell me about love, don't give me any of that crap, and think instead about the hundreds of ways she could die."

"Haymitch, that's enough!"

Peeta has forgotten Effie is there, although now she has sunk onto the couch, her bare knees trembling.

"You're not helping."

"Helping?" he bellows back. "Please, do pull something helpful out of that wig of yours. Because when it was a manipulative ploy I liked it just fine but its really not looking so great now. Part of your training for the quell, was it?"

"I can't talk about this anymore tonight," Peeta says, holding up his hand as if to stay the onslaught. "I need to go check on Katniss."

"I'm here."

They turn to see her standing in the doorway, still wearing her evening gown.

"Well, sit down, sweetheart." Haymitch heads to the drinks cabinet and take a glug of vodka straight from the bottle.

Katniss sits beside Effie and Peeta crouches on the floor, his head in his hands. "The only thing that changes is that you have to keep the deal you made with me, Haymitch."

"I was always going to." Haymitch shrugs.

Peeta cannot look at any of them. He wonders how he would feel if everything were different. If they were home in Twelve. No, it would not have happened. It wouldn't have happened if it weren't for the Quarter Quell. Katniss would be with Gale, wouldn't she? Everything entwined, every moment led them to this point and he considers if he would change it. Peeta decides he would, he would have her safe and in Gale's arms rather than this. Anything but this. Afterwards, if she survives, Peeta supposes Gale will be there, and Prim, her mother, Madge, she won't be alone. He wishes he found that comforting, it is not, and with his face bent to the floor Peeta feels selfish. More selfish that he accused Katniss of being; he wants her, and he wants them to be together, so badly the flesh on the back of his neck crawls.

It is Katniss whose hand comes to rest on his back, her hand under his arm as he gets to his feet. Haymitch has fallen silent, and Effie is crying softly into the back of her lace glove. They go back to her bedroom and Katniss struggles to undo the zip at the back of her dress. The silence is heavy against them both. Peeta places his fingers over hers and pulls down the zip so Katniss exhales in relief, stepping out of the gown in her underwear. There are bruises on her hips where the edges of the bodice have dug in and Peeta gently places his hand over one of the dark purple marks. He kisses where her shoulder joins her neck and he thinks she is crying again.

"I want you to say it's going to be OK," Katniss whispers.

Peeta kisses her neck. "Tonight it is OK."

"I'm afraid to fall asleep, because when we wake up..."

"Then we won't sleep yet."

Katniss lies curled against his chest, her hands by her mouth as Peeta rests his cheek against her hair. She feels the warmth of him, the thrill of his heart beneath her ear as she tries to forget.

Her mother and Prim help women during pregnancy, although in the seam families are not large and infant mortality is high, there is always a steady flow of women desperate for remedies for sickness, or more commonly for help to prevent miscarriage. There are women who continue to bleed until their faces are transparent, until they are too weak to move, unable to hold down food or water, and Katniss thinks if that happens in the arena it will be the end and Peeta will not be with her because he will die first to save her. For a moment Katniss wonders at the peace of death, the sudden sleep or the gentle ebbing of life. Like Rue, whose life ran through her fingers.

Rue.

Rue was helping her until the last moment, and if Katniss does not fight then her death was in vain, the deaths in the districts were in vain. Peeta told her to fight for herself, for once, for her life, her baby, but those seem intangible concepts. The focus of her life has been keeping Prim safe, and then Peeta, because they need her. She has been pretending this baby doesn't exist; she could keep pretending that if Peeta would let her, if her body would let her. She is responsible for too many lives already.

"You were right." Katniss says.

Peeta doesn't reply but it feels like he's holding his breath.

"I wouldn't have told you. What kind of person does that make me?"

"You were scared."

"I can't remember not being scared."

"We have to be brave. Or at least pretend…" Peeta says, kissing her hair.

"Then we shouldn't pretend when we're together, should we?"

"Tonight we can, because right now we're alone and safe, morning isn't here, tomorrow doesn't exist."

Katniss curls in closer to him, feeling a thin stream of comfort cut through the heaviness in her chest.

We have tonight.

"If they let us go now, if we were free, would you marry me, still?" His voice is quiet and Katniss closes her eyes as tears sting.

She doesn't know.

Peeta accepts silence as the answer.

Effie doesn't wake them up with cries about a big big day! Peeta stirs long after dawn and he can hear movement and a general low clamor of noise outside the door. Katniss is asleep on his chest, undisturbed by nightmares, her face smooth in sleep. She looks so young. He doesn't know how long he slept for but it feels like no time at all. Every muscle feels clamped to the bed, around Katniss, locking them into the memory of a still night where they could not be touched. Today, millions of eyes will watch them; analyze their faces for the correct amount of love and tragedy: that intoxicating cocktail, and they will have to perform. He must do everything to avoid targeted punishment in the arena, they must submit now to the will of the Capitol in hopes of… what? Leniency? It hardly seems likely, but a mistake will cost them, that he knows for sure.

Peeta kisses her on the forehead and for one short moment she rolls against him and almost smiles before the light leaves her face. Katniss opens her eyes. She touches his cheek, her fingers skating along his cheekbone. Suddenly, she slides out from underneath him and bolts for the bathroom. Peeta follows, holding her hair as she retches into the toilet bowl, his hand at her back. Katniss groans, resting her head on the toilet seat for a moment, sweat beading on her brow. She manages to turn as Venia and Flavius enter the suite and stand in the middle of the room without their usual pomp. They avert their eyes and wait for her to stand, Peeta's arm around her trembling shoulders as he hands her a toothbrush.

"Does she need to get ready now?"

"Haymitch told us to wait this long. But, we need enough time to…" Flavius makes a vague swirl in the air with one hand towards Katniss, the corners of his lips turned down.

Peeta kisses her cheek and turns back at the doorway to watch her shakily sit on the chair. He slowly withdraws and finds Portia waiting for him in the corridor. She takes his hand and puts one of her fingers to her silver lips before walking with him towards the door that leads to the roof.

Haymitch is waiting on a bench in the shadow of the vines, a misty sunlight mutes his edges, but as Peeta sits down his mentor's expression is reminiscent of the night before. Portia has left them alone. Haymitch's hair hangs into his eyes, into a face that has been convulsed with pain and anger for too long. He looks up at Peeta, before standing and beckoning him over to the edge of the roof. Peeta thinks about the force field, about Katniss, about being alone here with her, but is brought quickly back to the present by Haymitch's gnarled face close to his.

"I'll do whatever it takes," Peeta says.

Haymitch shakes his head, rubbing his hand over his mouth and stretching his jaw. "You need to get out of the way."

"What do you mean?"

"She's going to want to protect you, she's going to take risks for you. She isn't going to play ball." Haymitch doesn't meet Peeta's eyes. "But if you're not there, then she might take her own survival more seriously."

"But, I have to go into the arena."

"Correct, but, if she loses you, early on…"

A burn begins on Peeta's forehead and spreads down either side of his face.

"Suicide, are you kidding me?" he says, finally, the word dry on his tongue.

Haymitch shakes his head, squinting out at the view of the Capitol in front of them. "Sacrifice," he replies.

Peeta takes a deep breath. "I can protect her. I'm not a Career, I know, but I will protect her. Then… then, I'll go."

"That won't work. She will still be protected."

"So, Katniss doesn't need me." Peeta closes his eyes.

"No." Haymitch takes his shoulder firmly. "She needs you too much."

"You want me to go in and get myself killed, deliberately."

"Wasn't that what you were going to do anyway? You thought maybe it'd be the two of you at the end and you'd force her to kill you? Really?"

"I…I hadn't thought."

"You haven't been thinking with your head, that's for sure."

Peeta grabs hold of Haymitch's sleeve. "You can never tell Katniss about this, afterwards. Never. Do you understand?"

He had known immediately that he would do whatever Haymitch asked.

He will lie to Katniss.

He will betray her.