I don't hear what my mother is saying or the questions coming out of Prim's mouth. I feel so distant from everything. I can't feel anything. My blood has gone cold, and everything feels like it's playing in slow motion. I don't know when I run up the steps or how I make it without falling. I fly into our bedroom where Ollie lays sleeping peacefully in the bassinet. I would feel terrible for waking him any other day, but I need him. I carefully pick him up and when he nestles into my neck, I lose it. Snow has pulled the rug out from underneath us. I have thought of many different deaths, but going back into the arena never crossed my mind. He isn't directly killing us, but instead is making us relive our nightmare, then dying at the hands of another tribute, a sure way to have a slow and very painful death.
I hold Ollie close to my chest and focus on his soft breathing, the way he slaps his lips together, making these content sighs, snuggling closer to me. He trusts me with his life and I don't know if I will be here for him much longer. Even if I would survive, the arena that would mean Peeta is dead. I don't think I could live without him. I would never abandon Ollie, but I wouldn't be the same. Peeta makes me so much better. He makes me a better person, parent, and caregiver. Wherever I fall short, Peeta is there is help me. Without that, I could fail our son. I wouldn't be able to protect Ollie from Snow without Peeta, and I wouldn't be able to protect everyone I love. Peeta is the stronger one. He needs to make it back to our son. I could easily become my mother to overcome with grief to be of any use. I know Peeta would do anything to make sure Ollie lives a happy and healthy life.
I'm snapped out of my thoughts when I feel a warm hand on my shoulder. Peeta. I have left him all alone for who knows how long since the announcement. I have been thinking about how much I need him, but I haven't gone to him. I ran away from him, more proof that he is the superior person. It makes my decision that much simpler in my mind. He will survive.
"I'm sorry," I croak out and he immediately pulls me into my lap. His arms encircle mine with Ollie cradled by both of us.
"It's fine. I know you needed him. I walked your mom and Prim home. Don't worry about me," he whispers. "We will figure something out. I love you so much," he chokes out and kisses the top of my head.
"I love you too," I whisper and he holds me tighter.
I don't remember anything for the rest of the night besides Peeta laying us back down on the bed, and at some point wedging Ollie from my arms. I miss the warmth he was providing me with, but then Peeta gathers me up in his arms, and I cry myself to sleep.
I wake sometime later when Peeta shakes me awake and presses a hungry baby into my arms. I'm still half asleep when he finishes eating, falling back into a deep sleep before Peeta gets him out of my arms.
The next morning I wake up to Peeta looking at me as if I'm going to break. I take a deep breathe and collect myself. I am going to take every day one step at a time. It would no good to become a blubbering mess now. I need to make sure Peeta is going into the arena prepared to fight, and I am going to push myself to help him.
"I'm alright. Thank you for taking care of me last night," I whisper and Peeta runs his hand up and down my arm.
"Don't worry about it. We can talk to Haymitch about our next move today if you want." I nod in agreement even though I already have a plan. He laces his fingers through mine under the blanket. "When we go back in the arena you have to know that I'm going to do everything in my power to protect you. I know you are going to do the same for me, but either way one of us is coming back for him. We have to do what's best for him." I swallow the lump in my throat. He would never accept my willingness to die for him, but he will have to get over it. We both want the best for our son, and the best is for Peeta to survive.
"I know," I breathe out. I do not want to die, but I don't have many options. I'm leaving so much behind. I know Peeta will suffer greatly from my death, but he is strong. He will pull through and be the best parent possible. I'm not sure I could be do that.
Silence follows our heavy conversation, neither one of us moving until Ollie wakes up and lets out a small cry. We move silently getting ready for the day. Peeta and I shower in shifts. I shower he gets Ollie ready and when he showers, I finish getting him ready. Peeta makes us a meager breakfast and then we make our way to Haymitch's house. Surprisingly, Haymitch's house doesn't smell and is only slightly unorganized. Haymitch is sitting at his kitchen table clutching a bottle of white liquor between his calloused hands. He isn't hung over and isn't drunk. He is just staring at the blank wall, thinking.
I sit down across from him and Peeta sets a loaf of bread on the table and shifting Ollie in his arms, the wide-eyed baby taking in his new surroundings and lifting his legs up and down as if he wants to walk right out of Peeta's arms. Ollie manages to break the tension and drag a smile out of all of us.
Haymitch clears his throat. "Well, we got some work to do. First things you two are going to prepare yourselves. You need to start training like careers. Focus on getting into shape and work on you weaknesses. I have the base of a plan, but in order for it to work you two must stay alive long enough in the arena. Go back into the woods and start shooting again. Snow knows you can't run now with a baby and he has enough eyes to keep track of you two. He also can't kill you two before the games. He would have a revolution by doing that alone. I'm not going to tell you much, but you have to trust me that I will do anything to make sure you both survive. The less you know that safer you both will be in the long run."
Haymitch finishes his speech, taking a long drag from his bottle. I look over at Peeta and he is digesting all the new information. He finally returns my gaze and I know we are both on the same page.
"We trust you," Peeta says and Haymitch scoffs.
"Well I'm glad you trust your old mentor who saved all three of you before," he mumbles, Peeta and I both roll are eyes. "Not much else to talk about. If anything changes we will deal with it later."
We leave shortly after, walking hand and hand across the street, but I stop before we get to our lawn. I need to go talk to Haymitch. The reaping is an existing pool of victors he could be going into the arena too, highly unlikely, but still a possibility. I need to make some deals before Peeta sways Haymitch's opinion. Peeta gives me a weird sideway glance.
"I forgot to invite Haymitch to dinner. I'll be right back," I lie, turning on my heel quickly so he can't question me. I walk briskly back up Haymitch's front steps and through the front door.
"Miss me already?" He asks me.
"No, but if Peeta's name gets pulled," I trail off realizing I am asking my old drunk mentor to kill himself for my husband.
"I'll volunteer, don't worry about it. I'm planning for any out come," he states flatly.
"Thank you," I whisper and he nods in response. "But if he does go into that arena with me… he needs to survive for Oliver," I plead. "I don't care what happens to me in there, but he needs to live."
He frowns and then nods his head. "Okay."
I feel awkward considering everything he has done for us and will continue to do. I don't think before I walk around the table and throw my arms around his neck. "Thank you and you can come over for dinner if you want."
He pats my back and then we both pull apart. "Was that your lie to come back over here? I know you can't lie worth a damn."
"Maybe," I grin.
"I'll see you at the usual time," he mumbles and as I'm walking door he calls me back.
"What?"
"You know he asked me to save you last night," he sighs.
"Well I'm not asking you to save him. I'm telling you that you don't have a choice," I say sternly and walk out ignoring what he is saying to the back of my head.
I walk back into the warmth of our home and follow the noise of crying coming from the kitchen. Peeta is bouncing a crying baby and looks up at me with a small smile. "I wish I wasn't the only one who could feed him."
"Sorry, but until he eats something else," I reply unbuttoning my shirt and taking Ollie with the other hand. I go to the living room in search of something to support my arm. I grab one of the firm throw pillows off the couch and walk back into the kitchen, getting comfortable at the table without disturbing Ollie. I watch Peeta float around the kitchen taking out supplies and bowls, while following along to an old yellowed recipe book. He gets to mixing all the dry ingredients together when Ollie decides he is full. Peeta throws me a rag to throw over my shoulder, and I gently pat his back. He let's out a small belch, followed by another passing of gas.
Peeta stops and looks over at me in disbelief. "Did he jus-," he starts but is cut off by another very loud bout of flatulence from the tiny baby. "He really did," he grins and we both break out into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.
"He has done it before, but never that loud," I snort clutching my side while Ollie becomes slightly irritated letting out a high wail. Then I smell what we just heard. "I'll be back," I tell Peeta leaving us both laughing.
I lay a very upset baby on the cushioned top of the dresser in the nursery. I struggle to unbutton his outfit with all his carrying on, but when I get everything off I could understand why. I rid of him of the soiled diaper and clothing immediately rushing to bathroom with the squirming baby. I end of giving him a quick bath, and then pick out a clean and soft outfit from his nursery. As soon as I clasp the last button on his onesie, he is out like a light. I gently place him in the bassinet and shuffle back down stairs.
Peeta is still in the kitchen, but is covered in flour smoothly kneading out a large slab of dough. I lean against the kitchen cabinets and watch as he works, his forehead glistening with sweat, with his blond curls sticking to his forehead. I push back the long pieces and he gives me a small smile as he continues his task.
"That was fun," I say sarcastically, Peeta chuckles not breaking his focus. I watch his steady and confident movements. I start to think about how this calm will soon turn into anxious days counting down to the reaping. I wish we could just ignore the impending doom, and enjoy our time. Sure, we have to train and prepare, but I want to do it and still be happy with the time we have left. "These next couple of months," I start. "I don't want to be sad or whatever. I just want to enjoy this time that I know we have together," I tell him wistfully looking down at my hands. I can sense that Peeta's hands have stilled over the dough.
He slowly looks over at me and smiles a very genuine smile, and I soon feel my face mirroring his own. "I thought I was the optimistic one in this relationship," he grins and I loop my arm through his.
"I can have my moments," I whisper leaning in and meeting his lips halfway. He deepens the kiss and pins me between the counter and him. I slip my arms around his neck playing with the damp hair at the nape of his neck. Peeta settles his hands on my hips, but they slowly start to roam and I don't dare stop him. We break apart for air; Peeta continues to attack my neck with light and heated kisses. He lifts me easily onto the counter and I wrap my legs around his waist.
"The only thing I want is to spend as much time with you as possible," he admits huskily. Then he goes back to my mouth. A very hot tension starts to coil up in the pit of my stomach, and I desperately seek a relief. I want more of him and the thought of more makes the coil twist tighter and tighter. My fingers find the hem on his shirt and just as I am about rip off every piece of clothing and do what any other young married couple does when I hear someone gasp behind us.
We both spring apart, turning to find my mother looking at us wide-eyed. Both of us are beet red. Thankfully, I hear a cry from upstairs, but before I can excuse myself Peeta runs around my mother and bounding up the stairs.
"Sorry," I mumble and she shakes her head.
"I shouldn't be so surprised. I mean your married and have a baby," she laughs and I feel my face flush even more. Her face then takes a serious tone. "How are you?"
I hesitate to answer her. It's still strange for me to let her in. I'm so used to the cationic mother that didn't notice her children starving to death. Now her being actively involved and caring about me goes against everything I have grown accustomed to over the years.
"Dealing with everything," I answer honestly. "We are going to start training for the games. So if you wouldn't mind watching Ollie during most of the day it would help us. I'm sure Prim wouldn't mind." We both smile at that last part. Prim picking that moment to walk into the kitchen holding Ollie with Peeta following close behind her proving my point.
"Of course I will watch my nephew whenever you need it," she states proudly beaming down at Ollie.
"Well I wanted to tell you that I'm making a big dinner and I hope to see all three of you later," my mother says. "We have to go get started now." My mother tells Prim. Prim frowns handing Ollie back to Peeta. Prim turns slowly towards the front door with my mother only I few steps behind her.
"Oh, can Haymitch come?" I ask her quickly almost forgetting that I did offer him dinner earlier.
"Of course and Katniss," she calls back to me.
"What?"
"You have some flour on your…," she trails off. I look down at myself, and there are very distinct handprints up and down my thighs and on my rear. My face burns from my blush, she can't even see it, but I hear her and Prim giggling all the way out the door.
I turn around to Peeta who is smiling sheepishly. "We need to start locking the front door," I grumble and Peeta lets out a hearty chuckle before kissing my cheek.
Filler chapter but I wanted to give you all something else. Next chapter will be up sometime soon. Please review!