A/N: PLEASE READ THIS: Sorry, this isn't an update, but I just wanted to mention a fanfic of mine, Betrayal Isn't a Sin (T-rated but guy x guy; don't hate, I'm a girl and I think it's hot), has been entered in a contest called Slash Backslash. Vote for anyone you like but I'd really like it if that person was me. :p What? ...It might get me to update quicker...
I would like to start by saying I'm terribly sorry for not updating. I've been busy and I haven't had much inspiration. I hope you all enjoy this nonetheless and if you have any ideas I'd love to hear them. :) That way maybe I won't go onto a mini-hiatus again.
Disclaimer: I am not the author of "Gregor the Overlander" or "The Hunger Games", i.e. I am writing on fanfiction for fun and own nothing.
MANY THANKS to my fawesome reviewers!
Chapter Seven: Fault Line
"Katniss, are you in here?"
I glanced up quickly, head whipping around, as I tried to place where the quiet, rusty voice was coming from. I spotted Gale, standing tall as ever, even if his shoulders were slightly slouched, as if in defeat. My brows furrowed, as I realized he must not be able to see me. I just waited, wondering what else he would say now.
"Oh, so you are," he said meekly. Then he walked over slowly, his feet hardly made a sound on the plush grass, even if he was wearing boots.
"Yup and I've been here for the past two hours, playing with the bunnies," I said, my voice pointedly light and joking.
I wanted to put him at ease, since he seemed to be having trouble with some thought. His forehead was creased and his eyes were dark with sadness. His whole posture seemed broken, too. Something had to be wrong.
"Bunnies?" he asked me, sounding slightly amused.
"Yes. Little, white bunnies," I replied, grinning at him softly.
He just sighed and sat down across from me with a loud plop. "That's interesting," he said slowly, a pause between the words.
I laughed a little, unable to help myself. He seemed perplexed, as he looked around. None of the white rabbits were in sight, so he probably thought I was going insane.
He just shot me another odd look and leaned back. He closed his eyes, and then pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Katniss?" he asked softly, and then stopped, sounding choked.
I froze, at his tone of voice. My palms started sweating a little. I was starting to get really worried now.
"Yes?" I asked, very slowly.
My heart was thudding in my chest, seeming to stick against my ribcage with each painful pound.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, just as softly as before. There was a definite strain to his voice, though.
"Tell you what?" I asked uncertainly, as I eyed him up and down. His shoulders went stiff at that and he slammed his hands, palms down, onto the rough stone.
"You know what," he hissed, his voice deadly calm.
I froze, eyes widening. I probably gaped like a fish, but I couldn't get my throat to make sounds.
He immediately looked guilty and he reached over and stroked my arm, running his fingers from my shoulder to my elbow and back. "Sorry. I didn't mean to yell."
"It's okay. I'm just confused is all," I responded carefully, as I straightened up a little from my almost curled inward position.
"How can you be confused? I mean, didn't Haymitch at least give you the news?" he asked me. It was his turn to look stunned, eyes big and one fist clenched. He continued to stroke my arm, in an absentminded way.
"I seriously don't know what you're talking about, Gale," I said defensively, crossing my arms finally. He sighed, taking his hand back.
"It's a good thing you're already sitting down . . ." he informed me. His shoulders were slumped forward and his head was now bowed. He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging sometimes, and then just glanced up at me.
"You're pregnant," he said, in the softest voice possible.
I went completely still, stiff. My throat and mouth went dry and my eyes probably bugged a little. My arms that were crossed went limp and I felt faint for a moment, a yawning black abyss close, until I swallowed and got control of myself.
"How?" was my first question and I asked that one aloud. The others just swarmed around my head, like annoying bees.
"Did you just ask 'How'?" Gale spluttered, as he repeated my question. "You should know how!"
I blinked at him, confused at this point.
"Why should I know how? We never did anything," I said fiercely, maybe a little too defensively, as I gestured between him and me.
He looked broken, though, at that, and I immediately felt bad for some reason. "Exactly," he whispered. "It's Peeta's then, I guess."
I gawked at him, further. "Impossible! I was never with him like that, or anyone else for that matter." I almost snarled it out, shocked he'd think that.
"Yet, you're pregnant all the same." Gale eyed me suspiciously and I just stood up, shaking my head slightly.
"I can't be. I'm not," I stammered.
"Is it Finnick's?" Gale asked seriously, after noting how venomously I responded to him saying it was Peeta's, I guess.
"No. It's not. It's not anyone's because I haven't done anything to get pregnant, so just leave me alone!" I yelled, very loudly.
I bolted then. But why was that such a surprise? I was just doing what I did best—running away from my problems. I charged through the doors, out of the greenhouse and back into the labyrinth of tunnels underground in District 13.
I almost smashed into Xander, who for whatever reason seemed to follow me everywhere, like a lost puppy almost, who must have been about to check on me after all that yelling. I think he thought he was guarding me, but right now I didn't care. From where he stood, now backed up against the wall, he gave me a questioning look.
"It's nothing! Just go away!" I shouted at him, then immediately regretted it. I'd never given him an order before.
He just nodded tersely, and then walked off.
I winced. Why did I always hurt the people who ended up being friendly or nice to me at all? I just sighed and continued walking.
I stormed into the tiny bedroom a few minutes later. I considered deciding to just fall back asleep and pretend this was a nightmare as I looked at my freshly made bed, but I flopped down on my bed instead. I stared at the ceiling, recalling the conversation, and just tried to figure out what had happened just then. I sighed and just flipped over, burying my face in a pillow.
Why me? Why did all this drama always happen to me? Hadn't I done enough by now?
I blinked, feeling something wet on my face. I ran a few fingers down my cheek and winced when I realized I'd been crying. I guess that would be the hormones kicking in. I cussed softly under my breath. How had this even happened? Id never, I repeat never, been intimate with a guy—I hadn't lied to Gale.
Kisses? Yes. Hand holding? Yes. Hugging? Yes. And that was all for show, mostly.
But intimacy was something that I'd never gotten into. Back at District 12 (when it existed), I'd been too busy trying to take care of my family. I hadn't wanted to date anyone. I'd thought new people were just trouble. The only two people I had ever been kind of with were Gale and Peeta, my pair of almost boyfriends.
So, how could this have happened to me?
I blinked once again, as realization hit me right in the gut. When I was at the latest Hunger Game. They'd have been able to mess with my body, I guess. Sometime. Somehow. I'd probably gotten pregnant, well, artificially from something they'd done, so they could claim Peeta was the father (or even, someone else) and add more drama, get more money from sponsors who wanted the mother and unborn baby pair to win (even though there was no way in heck President Snow would allow me to live if he had his way). It was a great, giant sham.
I choked back an unwanted sob and just sat up, hugging my knees. I needed someone to talk to, but who would trust me? It was obvious Haymitch never had, if he hadn't told me right away, and Gale had accused me of getting cozy with Peeta or Finnick. Peeta was held captive somewhere, so he was definitely out. I missed him. We used to talk to each other about stuff.
I sniffled, and then mentally berated myself for doing so.
And now Finnick was gone. He was back to being his arrogant, cocky self, his only shield to protect him from the rest of the world. Would he even talk to me? Would he abandon me?
Maybe I should tell my Mother, but she hasn't thought too highly of me in a while-or it's felt like it. But I don't think she's capable of thinking highly of anyone. She's broken.
And, frankly, I don't want to tell anyone that doesn't already know. If they abandon me, too, I might just finally snap, break into little pieces. And I can't allow that. If I'm going to have to be a mother I intend to be a much better one than my Mom ever was. I can't be broken like her. I can't go crazy or be somewhere else in my head. I can't be oversensitive and a crier.
I can't be anything but pure strength, what everyone, even President Snow, keeps thinking I am. They think I'm not human, because I'm a killer. They're so very wrong...
A/N: R and R, lovelies? So I know I should continue this? Feedback is much appreciated and flames will be given to homeless pyromaniacs and their partner-in-crime psychopath buddies. :p
Oh, and if you ever read Twilight (and hated it) and like slash-y angst please read my "Betrayal Isn't a Sin". It owns Twilight, but in my opinion anything with three-dimensional characters does. Of course, I'm biased. Happily biased...and in a contest!
I am unsure if you'd willingly vote for me but you can see all other entries at the Slash Backslash Contest forum. Look it up, lovelies, if you would.
And, yes, I did just call you lovely twice. Accept the compliment, or be eaten by rabid squirrels. Or something like that...
