A.N: edited 28/12/14

I feel like I'm coming off as a real grouch in my new A/N's so woops hi thanks for reading ;)

Chapter 10: Irreversible

Katniss

Mom keeps me in the house for longer than I deem necessary, forcing me to eat endless bowls of soup and stew and take various medicines. I'm practically itching to get out and just run for miles and miles until I'm on the verge of passing out instead of lying here in bed all day.

"You need the rest, Katniss. You've been through a lot, and it can't be any good for the baby," is Mom's excuse when I bring up the idea of letting me just go for a walk for fresh air. Complying with my mother's wishes, I stay in bed for a further two days, barely moving. Of course, this allows my mind to run wild whereas usually I'm too busy to really think about myself. Lying here with nothing but my thoughts to keep me company makes me feel weak and defenceless, the last things I need to be now. I need to be strong and brave and ready for what the future is going to bring me.

I think I've cried more in these few days while cooped up than I have in the past five years. It just can't stop thinking. About Gale, about Prim and my Mom and what my foolishness is going to cost them. And then, popping up again and again like a scratch I can't reach, is Peeta. He's a puzzle I just can't figure out since every single piece I put in place is just a little bit wrong, and it messes up the entire image.

Mom is still insistent that I tell the father. She figures out that sending me on a guilt trip isn't going to work pretty quickly and instead yells at me and as a result I see a side of my mother I've never seen. She isn't necessarily angry, more frustrated that I've become so stubborn. I can't help it – it's a survival mechanism. I've learnt that giving in and showing emotion never gets me anywhere, and I'm not about to pull that wall down yet.

For now, she'll just have to be frustrated with me. And when karma comes back to me, I'll have to deal with it. And karma will come back, and with vengeance. Nevertheless, my mind conjures up a kind of fantasy, parallel universe in which I grow old and grey after a lifetime of hardship in the Seam, watching my child grow never knowing who their father truly was. And then, on the edge of this world, is Peeta. He marries a Merchant girl and they have perfect, blonde-haired, blue-eyed children, live in their perfect home, and die knowing that their Merchant legacy will go on.

Little does he know that his DNA is running around in the meadow, struggling through winters and probably trading with him. The child he never knew would be right under his nose the entire time.

And then this world begins to crumble, dragging Peeta and his family down first, melting into nothing. I watch my child vanish before my eyes, and then the Seam is gone and it's just me, left behind in nothingness, ready to spend the rest of my life in limbo as punishment for keeping secrets.

Eventually these thoughts get the better of me. I can't stand staying in the house a minute longer so I sneak out early the morning after my third day locked in the house, needing the fresh air and simplicity of the woods. Mom told me that I shouldn't go anyway or do anything that would make me stressed or force me to be physically active.

Naturally, I refuse to listen, and I'm now perched high up in a gnarled oak tree, my back against the rough bark. My hands are resting on my lap mere inches from my stomach. I can't bring myself to touch my belly; simply knowing that there is a life inside me is too terrifying.

I nearly had a heart attack when I came out of the bedroom to see whom Mom was tending to, only to find the two youngest Mellark boys sitting in the kitchen, looking out of place in my ramshackle house. Peeta's piercing blue eyes locked with my slate grey ones. His ability to search your very soul with just his gaze was unnerving; I squirmed under his stare. He looked like he knew something more. Something I didn't want him to know.

A soft breeze ruffles my hair. What if he already knows?

No. Unless he finally came to his senses, or someone told him, he wouldn't know. But who could have told him? I don't recall seeing anyone the night Peeta brought me back to the bakery. It was late at night – surely the district would've been in deep sleep by then?

Shaking away my troubled thoughts, I slide down from the tree and make my way through the forest. I've been here for hours. I watched the sun rise, the leaves become dappled in shades of orange and gold in the sunlight, listened to the sounds of the forest coming to life and finally feeling a little more like myself. Like my old self. The person I'll have to leave behind.

I need to shoot some animals down. We've gone nearly a week without fresh meat, scraping past with the remnants of the squirrel and the rabbit I caught in the days before Haymitch Abernathy put the idea of a child into my head. Leaves crunch softly under my feet as I step lightly over the ground, my eyes alert and my breathing steady, my bow at the ready. Something scampers past me in the twisted vines of the undergrowth and I pause. Bending down, I pluck a rock from the ground and toss it into scrub. A plump rabbit shoots out. I spin around and shoot it.

Hunting has a calming effect on me, and eventually my hunting bag is weighed down with several rabbits, four squirrels, and even a pheasant, the brightly coloured feathers of its tail sticking out of the gap in the drawstring. I sit on a tree stump, just hidden behind the trees that line the District 12 fence. My fingers are nimble as I pluck the pheasant, binding the feathers together in a bundle with some twine. They'll sell well at the Hob. The feathers are used for decorations and jewellery.

My stomach is knotted as I trek down the dusty slope of the hill. The Hob is busy with vendors calling out prices and bargaining with customers everywhere I look. I stop at Greasy Sae's stall as usual.

"Katniss, my dear. What do you have for me today?" she greets me as I sit on one of the stools at her booth.

"Squirrels, rabbits and a pheasant." I say, opening the bag and showing the contents.

"How about this?" she begins. "Thirty coins for the pheasant, a rabbit and two squirrels."

"Deal," I confirm, digging the said animals out and laying them onto the counter. Sae counts out thirty dull gold coins before placing them in my hand.

"Thank you, child," she says as I tip the precious coins into my pocket. "Can I interest you in some soup?" she asks, stirring the large cauldron hidden behind the counter. "I heard that you were not feeling well."

"No thanks," I say, standing up. "Maybe next time." Sae nods, her eyes flitting to something over my shoulder. Whatever it is causes her brow to crease and her lips to purse. I turn to see what it is. Standing behind me, golden hair aglow, is Peeta. "What are you doing here?" I ask him, my stomach rolling at how close he is.

"My mother wanted some baking twine, but wouldn't come here alone," he explains. I look down.

"Did you want… did you want something?" I ask. He blinks, staring at me, and then his eyes widen in remembrance.

"Yeah. I… err… found this," he pulls something small from his pocket at holds it out to me. I take it, electricity shooting up my arm as his fingers graze mine.

My Mockingjay pin.

"I didn't even realise I had lost this," I whisper. "Where did you find it?"

Peeta kicks at the floor, sending up dust. "Can we go… can we go somewhere private?"

"Sure," I say with hesitation, glancing at Sae before following him away from her stall. I sit down at the florist's booth. The florist is away, visiting friends, so the stall has been empty and disused for weeks. What could Peeta want? My head spins as I try to think. He sits beside me, scrubbing his face with his hands, looking more distressed and embarrassed than I think I've ever seen him.

"I need to ask you something…" he begins, not meeting my eyes. "I've heard… stuff. Just things people have been saying, really," he pauses, knotting his fingers together. "But I can't think of what could've possibly happened but it's been on my mind and I-"

I swallow. "What is it, Peeta?"

"I know it's probably just silly rumours…" he exhales, his shoulders rising and falling dramatically, his chest expanding and straining against his shirt. "And please, Katniss. Don't think me weird for saying this."

He knows.

Possibly not every detail, but he's beginning to get an idea.

"What happened the night of the party?" he finally asks, looking up and locking eyes with me, unwavering and true. "Because I don't think I ever walked you home."

Well, shit. I have to tell him before he pieces the puzzle together and figures it out himself. I can only imagine the humiliation I would face if he found out any other way.

"Uh, well… No, you didn't walk me home…" I mumble, feeling my heartrate increasing. "You invited me around your house." Peeta's eyes widen.

"W-What?"

"You offered me something to drink," I say, trying to act nonchalant even though I'm pretty sure I'm going to be sick.

"Really?" Peeta asks, his shoulders slumping in relief. "Is that it?"

"Uh…" How do I even begin to explain?

"Because Denny Small said that…" Peeta takes a deep breath, rolling his shoulders as he tries to think. "No, never mind. I'm sorry that I've bothered you," he sighs, standing up. "I was just confused… and I wanted to know because…" He shoots a rueful smile my way and begins to walk away. I grab his wrist. This is it. This is a pivotal moment.

"That wasn't it," I whisper. "We slept together."

Peeta yanks his arm from my grip, his eyes wide. I feel my cheeks redden, though why I should feel embarrassed I don't know. We both enjoyed it, right? A voice in my head says too bad only one of you remembered and I push it down, desperately focusing on the man in front of me who is probably terrified that he's got some disease or just disgusted.

"We slept… together?"

"I'm sorry," I tell him. Peeta drags me over so we're standing behind the florist stall, hidden from prying eyes.

"When?"

"At Bron's party," I say, my skin tingling at where his hands are gripping my upper arms, my mouth dropping open at the intensity of his gaze. What the hell is wrong with me?

"At his house?!"

"No! No. We went back to your house."

"But that was weeks ago! Why didn't you say anything?" Peeta runs a hand through his hair, pacing up and down in front of me. "Did you think this was some sort of everyday thing that you could forget about? Because I can't-"

"Peeta!" I hiss, interrupting his frantic words. "Just shut up for a second, will you?" Peeta stays silent, staring at me with wide eyes, his chest rising and falling. I feel like a monster, but I've already come this far. I can't back down now. Might as well hit him with everything instead of dragging it out. "I'm pregnant."

Peeta stops striding up and down and stares at me, his eyes bugging out of head.

"No. No, no, no, no, no," he says, shaking his head violently from side to side.

I slump onto the floor, tears flowing over my cheeks as I hide my face in my hands. He hates me, but now he knows. Mom got her wish.

I can't believe I've just told him. Everything I've promised myself since I found out has been thrown into the wind. I vowed that I wouldn't tell Peeta. I would never involve him in this; I would never ruin his life by telling him that he was going to be a father. And now? And now I'm told him in a moment of panic behind the florist store in the Hob.

"Peeta, I'm sorry," I choke out, my vision swimming. "I didn't want you to find out. It wasn't your fault. It was mine because I was drunk and kissed you." I look up at him, fully anticipating him to be shooting daggers at me. He crouches down in front of me, wrinkles his nose and rubs his eyes with the heels of his palm. He's trying to keep calm. I should too.

"When did you find out?" he asks, inhaling through his nose, not meeting my gaze.

"I… uh… a week or two ago?" I flounder. Why is he taking it so well? Why is he not cursing and screaming and damning me?

"Oh boy…" he exhales.

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

He shakes head, slower this time. "Katniss, no."

"You're not angry with me, are you?" I mumble. His head snaps up and his eyes meet mine; unwavering and strong compared to my watery terrified ones.

"Katniss. Why would I be angry?" he asks, his voice gentle, like a summer breeze against burnt skin.

"Because I slept with you and now you're going to be a Dad and I'm going to be a Mom and we're only sixteen and this is going to ruin your life!" I bury my face in my hands, digging my nails into my flesh to ground myself.

"I wouldn't be angry with you. You should be the angry one, you-"

"You slut," my hands fall away in shock.

"What?"

"I didn't say anything."

"You called me a slut!"

"No, I didn't," Peeta says fearfully, standing and looking around. "Mom?"

I look up and stumble to my feet. Mrs Mellark is standing right there, half hidden by the side of the stall, her pale eyes hard, and her mouth pressed into a sharp line. Oh no.

"Peeta," she snaps, stepping out into full view.

"Mom, I can explain," her son says, his eyes wide and scared as they flick from me to the witch standing not two meters away.

"He didn't do anything wrong-" I try, not wanting this to turn into anything more hideous than it already is.

"I don't want to hear it!" she hisses, glaring at me like I'm something nasty on the bottom of her shoe.

"Mom, please. Just listen to what we have to say."

"Leave. Now," she growls, her voice scarily steady and quiet. "We'll deal with this back home."

"Peeta, no," I murmur, brushing his forearm with my hand. He looks down at me, his eyes pained. We both know what is waiting for him back at his place. Hell, it isn't likely that they'll even get out of the Hob before she attacks him. He's suffering already for what I've done.

"I promise I'll come back and talk to you," he says sincerely, his eyes blazing into mine with determination. I bite my lip and watch as the youngest Mellark squares his shoulders, straightens his back and walk away, more courageous and resilient that I'll ever be able to be.

I calm my breathing, wipe my eyes and stand on shaking legs. There's no going back now.

"Katniss, are you okay?" Sae asks me as I pass her stall on the way out of the Hob.

"I'm fine Sae," I force a smile, desperate to just run home and sob into my pillow.

"Are you sure? You look pretty shaken up," she pauses, her hand stilling as she stirs the cauldron of soup. "What did the Mellark boy say?"

"Really, Sae. It's nothing."

"Alright dear," Sae says. "Thank you for the meat."

"I'll come back for some soup," I call, before disappearing through the jaggedly cut hole in the side of the warehouse that provides us with a door. I can't help it. I look around for two blonde heads heading in the direction of the Merchant quarters, but I see nothing but black hair and decrepit houses. Before I can get any ideas that would only lead to more embarrassment and shame, I race over the dry ground, not stopping until I reach our house at the edge of the street. I fling the door open, letting my tears fall.

"Katniss!" Mom exclaims. "Where have you been?"

"I had to get some air."

"Why didn't you leave a note? You shouldn't have gone anywhere! Now look what's happened!"

This causes me to pause. 'Now look what's happened?' The red-hot blood coursing through my veins is replaced with frigid ice. Did Mrs Mellark march her son over here and scream and shout at my mother? At Prim?

"What? Do you know?" I ask her through my tears. Mom stands, her chair scraping loudly over the floor and advances towards me, leaving her knitting on the kitchen table.

"Do I know what?" she replies. "All I know is that I woke to find that you were gone!"

"Is Prim here?"

"She's out back. Milking Lady."

"I told him."

"Who? Katniss- what are you talking about?"

"I told him. I told the father," I stutter, sudden realisation of what I've just done hitting me like a tonne of bricks.

Mom's entire body seems to shrink. "Oh, Katniss," she soothes. But as she pulls me to her, wrapping her bony arms around my shaking frame, I find that my mind is racing.

I've just confessed everything to Peeta. And his mother was listening. The connection joining my brain and mouth together must be faulty, or might not even exist. Do I not think before I speak? Why have I done this? Why?

"How did he react?" Mom questions into my hair. I think back to the Hob, remembering the way Peeta's eyes widened, the way a thousand different emotions flashed past them. How he knelt down to face me and spoke to me with a soft tone. He was scared out of his mind but still spoke in a manner that would be used when a child had confessed to a little white lie. But this wasn't little. This was a colossal truth. And the kind-hearted baker's son hadn't been angry, hadn't run away. He had stay put and tried to understand.

"He… he was kind."

"That's a good sign, then."

"But his mother was there."

"There? It is his house, Katniss. You shouldn't be surprised that his mother was in the building."

"I told him at the Hob. He was there with his mother."

"What were the Mellarks doing at the Hob?" I stiffen and pull away, watching Mom clapping a hand over her mouth.

"How did you find out!?" I scream. She steps back. "Who told you?!"

"No-one told me!" Mom says. "I guessed, and I think I'm right! When Peeta and Rye came over, your reaction to them when you walked in made it pretty obvious!"

"But his mother knows," I gasp, clutching at my chest.

"Katniss, this will all be alright."

"No, it won't. She's going to kill him," I grip the kitchen counter, unable to catch my breath. Am I having a panic attack? Is this what is happening?

"Which of the Mellarks is the father?"

"What?" I ask, staring up at her.

"Clearly it isn't Farrell, so it has to be either Fenton, Rye or Peeta."

"Fenton has a girlfriend." I say. How could Mom honestly have no idea of which of the Mellark sons is the father of my unborn child?

"So… it's Rye or Peeta?"

"It's Peeta, Mom. Jesus Christ."

"But Peeta's such a good boy."

"He was drunk. We both were," I snap, before catching myself and trying to stop my fear being channelled into anger. "I don't know what to do," I mumble.

"I'll go and speak to his parents."

"No. I should do it," I say, and then imagining their reactions sets me off again. Prim comes rushing in, her eyes wide at the scene she is welcomed with.

"What's happened?" she asks.

"I'm fine Prim." I say, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingers.

"No, you're not," she says, walking up to me with a face of stone, her braids swinging from side to side. "You keep crying. You've been lying about in bed all day for the past week. I don't think you're ill. If you had a stomach bug, you'd be better now because Mom is giving you medicines-"

"I'm fine Prim!" I shout, my loud voice everyone – including myself – to jump. Buttercup hisses at me, his fur sticking up. "I'm fine," I repeat softly. Prim stares at me. Mom stares at me. I close my eyes. The darkness behind my lids is welcomed – it allows me to escape from the real world, if only for a very seconds. I've never shouted at Prim. Never. Not when she would mess something up. Not when she yelled at me. "Prim, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shouted." I look up, only to find my sister running to me and flinging her skinny little arms around me.

"It's okay Katniss."

"I'm sorry," I mumble into her hair, and she doesn't even know how much I mean it.

Peeta

Mom's sharp nails dig deep into the flesh of my arm as she drags me away from the Hob, as if trying to stop me from running away and hiding from her. Lord knows nothing can save me now.

"I knew we never should've gone there. We should've gone somewhere else. Anywhere but that hellhole, crawling with vermin," she mutters, stalking determinedly towards the bakery. I stumble along behind her, in a daze, my head spinning.

All I can hear is the distinctive wobble in Katniss' voice when she confessed what our drunken fumble had resulted in.

'I'm pregnant.'

Two simple words that had led to so much fear and confusion. I've loved Katniss since she sang the Valley Song on our first day of school, and had sometimes caught myself wondering what it would be like to have a family with her. But not like this. Never like this.

We reach the bakery after ten minutes – my chest heaving with the effort of trying to focus on not tripping up on Mom's heals as she pulled me along at breakneck speed. There is an old lady being served by Fen. Mom lets me go and pushes the woman towards the door.

"We're closed," she snaps.

"But I haven't even paid yet!" the lady protests. Mom lunges forward and pulls the paper bag from the customer's grip.

"Well, you needn't pay for anything now!" she says with false joy littering her face. Fen shoots me a questioning look. I look at him, but my face feels heavy. My brows feel like they are being dragged down, along with my lips. I probably look like I'm about to cry. Mom slams the door, locks it, and flips the 'open' sign to 'closed'.

"Mom, is everything alright?" Fen asks carefully, watching her for any sign of what could be going on. When he finds nothing, he looks at me, demanding to know what the hell is going on just through facial expressions.

"Get in the kitchen," she hisses. "Where are your father and brother?"

"In the kitchen," he tells her, glancing -wide-eyed- from me to Mom. "Why?"

"Just get into the fucking kitchen!" Mom exclaims. Fen closes the cash register and walks ahead. I follow close behind.

"What's all this shouting?" Dad asks cheerfully as we enter the kitchen. He looks up, but the smile on his lips swiftly falls in the place of a concerned line. Rye looks up from the ovens, sweat covering his forehead in a thin sheen.

"I can already tell how fun this is going to be," he says, pulling a tray of cookies out of the oven and setting them on the side to cool. I stand by the wall, wishing the ground would just swallow me whole. Mom is going to kill me. I'm a disappointment, just like she's always said.

"Wait, whose manning the shop?" Dad asks, ever concerned about his bakery.

"We're closed," Mom snaps, her jaw locked as she glares at me, her arms over her chest.

"Okay… So what is this all about?" he asks, rinsing his hands under the tap, washing away the flour before focusing his attention on his wife and youngest son. This is the most fucked-up family meeting I can remember having, and I doubt anything will be like this again.

"Your son has some explaining to do," Mom says, her voice steady like it was in the Hob. I don't like it. None of us like it because we know that it's just the calm before the storm. And it won't be any old storm, it'll be a full-blown tempest sent from the gods, filled with screaming and cursing and hitting and tears that will leave us all burnt out shells needing repairs.

Dad looks warily around, first at Rye, who shrugs. His gaze redirects to Fen who motions to me with the tilt of his head. Dad looks at me, his eyes confused. I sigh heavily. I'm not normally the son that 'has some explaining to do' since I try to stay under Mom's radar.

"I'm sure that whatever Peeta did that's made you angry wasn't as bad as you thought, Aymee," Dad says calmly, scratching his head. "You normally blow it up into something bigger than it actually is." Mom whips around and glares at her husband. He deflates a little.

"Oh, I'm sorry Farrell," she says sarcastically. Rye leans back against the countertop, rolling his eyes. "Do I make a mountain out of a molehill all the time? Because now I think that your son needs to explain of what he's been doing; sneaking around behind our backs and dragging us all down in the process! Maybe then you'll understand!" Mom's voice gets more hysterical as she continues speaking.

"Alright, alright," Dad says, raising his hands in defeat. He turns to me with worry in his eyes. I grimace. "Peeta, would you care to explain?"

"No," I mutter. I can't tell them. Not until everything is sorted out with Katniss. She's an equal part of this, and I won't allow her to be bullied by my mother. I'd much rather be kicked out than see her hurt.

Mom's reaction is like a whip, sharp and stinging. "You tell them, or I will!" she growls, narrowing her eyes. I take a deep breath and gaze around the room. Mom is fuming; my brothers are curious, but also begging me not to have fucked up too bad. Dad just looks worried.

It's now or never, I guess. I can't go back now.

"Well…" I begin, drawing it out, struggling to find the right words. I can almost cut the tension in the room with a knife. "Dad, you're going to be a Grandfather, and Fen and Rye, you're uncles."

Silence.

Gut-wrenching, blood-chilling silence so cold I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.

"What?" Dad asks, his head working overtime as he tries to process what I've just said.

"Fuckin' hell, Peet. You knocked someone up?!" Rye exclaims, his eyes bulging.

"I was drunk, she was drunk. I never meant for this to happen!" I say, tears welling up in the corners of my eyes. Dad looks so disappointed in me. Fen and Rye just look like they've slapped. Mom is still fuming.

"Who is it?!"

"It doesn't matter-"

"That nasty half-breed Everdeen girl," Mom interrupts. I stare at the tiled floor.

"Katniss Everdeen?" Dad asks, staring at me. He knows that I like her. He's always known.

"Yes! Katniss Everdeen!" Mom screeches. "That filthy whore has wormed her way into our lives by getting you-" she points an accusing finger at me. "- drunk, and now she's knocked up!"

"She isn't a whore!" I explode, pushing myself upright from the wall and standing my ground. I can't stand this anymore. The feeling of Dad's shocked gaze. Fen and Rye's looks of incredulity. Mom's sharp, calculated words that pour out of her mouth like lava, and it's all directed to me. So I just let my emotion out by shouting. Shouting louder than Mom can, louder than I thought I could.

"She is not a half-breed. She is not a filthy whore. Or a rat. Or a slut!" Mom looks taken aback. "She's just a girl who has struggled all her life because her Dad was blown to pieces, her Mom is unable to care for her, and no-one gives the slightest damn in hell about her!" I run a hand down my face, panic replacing the anger inside of me. "And now I've ruined her entire life because I can't handle my alcohol without fucking up! So don't you dare take this out of her when I'm the one who put her into this situation!"

More silence.

But this time, it isn't gut-wrenching or blood-chilling. It's angry and heated.

"How dare you!" Mom screams, stepping forward and slapping me over the cheek. "How dare you contradict me? All I've done is give give give, your entire life. I don't deserve a son like you! Fen and Rye aren't sex-crazed pests! You are!" Mom backs me up against the wall, still able to bring down her husband and three sons even though she's smaller than all of us and has nothing on the strength we possess. It's the crazed look in her eyes that scares people. Not her words, but the look in her eyes that tell you don't fuck with me.

"You have the guts to yell at me? At your mother who has tried to stop things like this happening because it will only end badly?" she continues, sticking her finger right into my face until my head is against the brick wall. Her upper lip curls into a snarl.

"You don't deserve a son like me?" I shout, repeating her words. "You don't deserve anything! All you do is take!"

"That is enough!" Dad roars, bringing his fist down on the table. "Aymee, and Peeta, stop screaming at each other!"

"Don't tell me what to do!" Mom barks. "I don't want you associating with that… that bitch… ever again. I don't want you to look at her, think about her or even think about thinking about her!"

"Don't call her a bitch." I warn.

"She's a whore."

"Call her something mean one more time and I swear to God…" I say, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to curb my anger.

"You'll do what Peeta?" Mom asks in an icy singsong voice. "You'll go back to that slut to see if she'll let you fuck her again? But don't worry this time about knocking her up – you've already done that without realising!"

"Aymee!" Dad bellows.

"I'm warning you," Mom snarls, the vein in her forehead sticking out. "If you don't get rid of this problem I'll do it myself." And with that, she exits the room.

An eerie sense of calmness fills the room, and I finally let myself go, tears rolling pathetically down my cheeks. "I'm s-sorry Dad." I sob. Dad composes himself and then wraps me into a bear hug.

"I know son, I know."

"I never meant f-for this to happen."

"I know you didn't. You're a good person."

"But Mom winds me u-up so bad, and I can't handle her taking it out on K-Katniss."

"Did she tell you at the Hob?" Fen asks. I move away from my father and face him.

"Yeah. I gave her back her pin too."

"That was hers?"

"Yep, she left it here," I sigh. "She looked so upset and scared when she told me. She asked if I was angry. I told her I wasn't because I didn't know how I was feeling. But I'm not angry at her. How could I be?"

"You did the right thing, Peeta," Dad says.

"But I've ruined everything."

"No you haven't. This is just a bump in the road," Dad smiles at me but his eyes are pained.

"I don't think this is something we can fix," I mumble. "Not this time."