DISCLAIMER: You know the drill.
"We should go back to the room," I whisper.
Peeta's eyes narrow and he looks back thoroughly.
"Okay…" he says, the word snaking out strangely.
I set my fork down across the top of my plate and toss my napkin to its side. My chest is full of fighting. I have to tell him, I can't leave him out of this. Even though I'm sure Gale isn't the only one who would suggest he stay in the dark at this time, something deep within me knows that Peeta would go to the same lengths to protect me, be full of the same distractions whether he knew I was carrying his child or not. I can't stop myself from delivering this news even if I tried.
Peeta starts to scoot his chair back when Haymitch catches him.
"Where do you think you're going?" He asks with a gentle laugh in his tone.
"Oh, um…" Peeta looks at me for help.
"We're going to get changed," I jump in, "but we'll see you on the hovercraft in a few hours."
There are a few muffled laughs from around the table and I blush, knowing everyone is aware it's a lie, and knowing exactly what they think we're running off to do. I blush deeper. Maybe we will do that…
Finnick, never being one to be left out of a perfect joke opportunity, stuffs his mouth with the carrots at the end of his fork and smirks.
"Careful now," he teases, directing his comment towards Haymitch but pointing in our direction, "you let those two alone too long and we won't have to lie to Snow about that baby anymore!"
I suppose I didn't factor inadvertent bomb-dropping by third parties when I considered all the ways I could tell Peeta about this.
Four loud chokes huff from the edges of the table and can't be covered by Finnick's own laughter. My mother and Prim grab for their napkins and try to swallow the food now caught in their throats, while Gale reaches for his glass and chugs the remaining water. I freeze in my pushed out seat. Peeta doesn't laugh long when he notices I'm quiet, and suddenly I'm afraid to survey the table.
Finnick guffaws once more as the laughter dies rapidly around us and looks towards me with widening eyes. Somehow I think it's starting to sink it he might not have been as far off with the joke as he intended to be.
I suck in air and decide brave a look around. Haymitch is staring at me incredulously, however something says he expected this. Johanna looks appalled. Paul seems to be a bit more aware than Jacob, but both are still stuffing their faces with gentle clangs of their silverware against the china. My mother looks calm, and Prim drops her face immediately to hide the smile that's filling out her cheeks. Gale glances furiously in my direction. The mood at the table has taken an obvious turn and my heart starts pounding so loudly I imagine it's going to dance right out of my body any moment.
The longer anyone takes to respond, the thicker the air gets. I don't really know what to do and wipe my mouth with the small white cloth I'd tossed on the table before taking a sip of water. Finnick's eyes are practically bulging out of his sockets now as they shoot between Peeta and me. Clem has a similar expression and Madge looks embarrassed. Haymitch looks more contemplative than I've ever seen him and Gale is still fuming.
Everyone is waiting for someone else to talk. No one offers.
I feel a pair of eyes boring into my skin and look to my right. Peeta is not moving. His blue eyes are intense and full of questions. Or one question, really, and I'm not sure I want to answer it right here, right now.
"Oh you might as well," Prim finally interjects, reading my unspoken doubts in my face. Everyone turns to look at her and I feel something go weak in my shoulders.
"Yeah…you might as well," Johanna adds, turning her gaze back to me. Her eyes are wild with anticipation.
I look back at Peeta and can't hide the expression from my face. I'm not quite sure if it's hope or joy or embarrassment or concern, but regardless of any of it something huge inside of me can't wait to speak the truth.
Yes. I'm having your baby.
He sees it. My eyes have been successful.
"No," he says quietly, and suddenly the entire table bursts out in murmurs. I try to ignore them and focus only on Peeta.
"Yes," I reply just as quietly, and there are even more exclamations around us.
Peeta drops his hand onto the table and it lands with a loud thud. He turns his whole body to me in the chair and I can feel my heart thumping so loudly there might as well be a herd of horses running through the halls. He runs his fingers through his dirty blonde hair, his breathing deep and even. I can practically hear him contemplating every element, every detail of this fact and my resolve begins to wane. The murmuring around the table has ceased and even the gentle hum of everyone else in the hall eating and conversing has slowed and shushed.
"Really?" He finally questions and I nod timidly in reply. Peeta darts his eyes to Haymitch, who responds by throwing his hands in the air as if giving up and giving his blessing at the same time.
And then three things happen at once: Finnick throws his arms up and cheers, Gale gasps angrily and slumps back in his chair, and Peeta grabs hold of my face, smashing his lips into mine. The whole table is in uproar, causing the rest of the room to buzz and soon, the whole dining hall is loudly confounded.
I kiss Peeta back wearily and pull away to survey his face. No one is paying attention to us anymore because they're too busy scrambling amongst themselves. Madge is excitedly grasping my mother while Gale reams Haymitch for being okay with this. Finnick is trying to hug everyone, but Prim hasn't let go of him yet. Johanna has already stormed off and Jacob still doesn't seem to understand what is going on. Plutarch looks full and happy and the rest of the table is beaming and cheering and slapping and hugging.
"We're having a baby?" Peeta leans in to confirm again and his eyes sparkle.
"We're having a baby." I reply.
My whole body fills with something indescribable and Peeta's lights up like a massive candle has been set inside. It's worth it. Prim was right. This moment, seeing his expression, feeling his uncontainable joy, watching his fingers stretch with boggling excitement, is something I would never have wanted to miss. If anything does happen to either one of us, this is exactly the way I want to remember who we were.
"We're having a baby!" Peeta announces to the table, though the declaration isn't necessary. Everyone cheers in response anyway and I see the surrounding tables looking curiously in our direction. Surely some have an idea, or heard what Peeta has just said so loudly.
"I can't believe this," he says, looking to me with the kind of wide smile I picture on our baby, "I really can't believe this."
"I'm going to be an aunt!" Prim suddenly exclaims from her side of the table and I laugh for the first time today.
"And you're going to be a grandma!" Finnick says with a slap on my mother's back. Her smile is bashful, but full.
"And I'm going to be an uncle," Haymitch says quietly. The table hushes and we all turn and watch as his somewhat blank expression festers. There is something underneath that is moving and tilting and whirling and as I stare I see it take form. His eyes begin to fuzz a little and when he looks up at me, I can see a just how dewy they are.
I reach my hand over and set it on his shoulder tenderly. My eyes agree with him and he lets out a quick sniffle.
Once again the mood at the table has shifted, but this is a very happy, very gentle emotion surrounding us now. Almost like we've all just eaten a massive feast and are sitting back in our chairs near to sleep. It's that kind of lull, that kind of peace. I pull my hand away from Haymitch and without thinking lay it on my stomach. Peeta follows me as I make the action and I hear him inhale.
Suddenly he grabs my other hand and pulls me out of my chair. Before I know what's happening we're both standing and he is climbing on to the table.
"Peeta," I try, but it's no use. He tugs at my arm and I step on to the table next to him.
He clears his throat, but we don't have to call the room to attention. They've already been watching.
He pauses, allowing an enormous smile to spread across his face, and then shouts stridently, "We're having a baby!"
If I had thought our table had erupted when he announced it to them five minutes ago, I don't know if I could have described this noise. It's nearly deafening. The entire room explodes in cheers and claps and shouts. Peeta pulls me hard into his side and kisses the top of my head. I realize I'm smiling with him.
We hop off the platform to be met by hoards of people. They surround us to give their congratulations, both as condolences for the imaginary child we lost and this new one they hope we're able to keep. We accept slaps on the back and belly rubs, giggles from the little girls and blushes from the older ones. I even notice a few jealous shots from some of Peeta's fan club, but ignore them. We're pulled from our perch near the table and towards the center of the room, and by the time things clear out I notice our own table is practically empty. There are three people left: Prim, Haymitch, and my mother.
Prim makes her way to Peeta and leaps around him for a giant hug.
"I'm so happy," she says as she steps back. "Now take care of business and get back to us so we can start planning a baby shower!"
It's strange how little things, simple things, can make someone's life happier. For Prim, for a lot of the surviving women, those every day specialties like baby showers and weddings make this rebellion more human, more real, more livable. I've never been one for productions or celebrations or parties, but after only a month in the caves the idea of some kind of special cake when it can be had, or just the gathering together to celebrate something new, carries a magic that unburdens, even if it's just for a short amount of time.
This thought makes me see my little sister differently. Even though I've always wanted to protect her and have always cherished her, for the first time I see her as an individual that looks forward to my achievements as much as the next rebel. Little Prim is part of the mass that has chosen to follow us into this war, and who refuse to give up their hearts in doing so. That is true rebellion, after all. Declaring that we will not bend and break and mold to someone else. That we will not be controlled or punished for existing. A baby shower in the caves of our rebel headquarters spits in the face of Snow and his men and reminds all of us that we will not be moved. That we are real. That we will continue on.
Hopefully, though, after this mission we'll never have an underground baby shower again. I wish for every woman that may be pregnant now, and for every child that will grow and every baby that will be born, to have a free life. A life full of nothing but joy and renewal and commitment to loving and being loved.
This is what I wish for my own children. For me. For Peeta.
One more hug and Prim and my mother exit the dining hall and I turn to face Haymitch.
"I knew something was up," he says. "There was a lot of funny stuff going on at that table tonight. You. Your mother. Gale."
"Gale knew?" Peeta asks, surprised by his name on Haymitch's list.
"Well…yeah. But by accident, and I don't think I have to tell you that he wasn't very happy about it."
Haymitch lets out a single sound in agreement and I realize how much it pains me to admit this. I don't think Gale wants bad things for Peeta and me, nor do I think he ever wants me to be unhappy, but he can't help loving me and as much as he tries to sacrifice that so that I can be with Peeta and still have him as a friend, his feelings often get the better of him. Especially when he thinks something is going to harm me.
"He doesn't think I should let you go," Haymitch says, looking at me dead on.
He says it as a statement, but also as a challenge. What do I think is the right choice? How do I feel? How do I think Peeta feels? I take in a deep breath because I know how Peeta feels and it's been in front of me since the second I thought I might be pregnant. I know where Gale stands, I know where I stand. Haymitch is asking me the right question, forcing me to be firm in my decision, whatever it is.
Peeta takes the reply to Haymitch, however, and even more than I thought two seconds ago I know Peeta understands me more than Gale ever could.
"He doesn't know Katniss very well, then."
My heart aches with pleasure at this response and I want to tackle Peeta right then and there. I manage to refrain and simply take his hand and squeeze it tight. He squeezes back and I don't know how I can possibly think about anything else but how much I love this man.
Haymitch seems satisfied and slaps Peeta on the arm. "All right. I'll see you on the ship."
He walks away from us without another word and suddenly I realize that Peeta and I are left alone. The large space with tall ceilings is devoid of any other human, a luxury more and more rare to us these days. Peeta turns to face me and my body moves with him. He's not smiling anymore, but his eyes are full of something affirmative, something positive.
He can say so much to me through those eyes without ever having to say a single word.
"I will get you home," he says as he moves his free hand to my cheek.
"Us," I correct, pointing at his chest. "You'll get us home."
He releases my hand and moves both of his down to my stomach. "Us," he whispers, never moving his gaze from mine.
I don't know how to put this moment into words. My whole life is contained in that one spoken word. My immediate future, my past, my present, every mistake, every fear, every action, every triumph…everything I am, everything I have been, everything I will become is all centered around this one tiny minute, this place with Peeta.
We don't waste our time getting from the dining room back to our bedroom. The second the door closes our clothes are dropping across the floor as fast as we can get them off. My ankle gets caught at the foot of my jeans and Peeta steps down on the fabric as he picks me up and throws me back on the bed. I crawl backwards on my elbows, my smile enticing him as he follows over me. He catches my mouth and both of my hands reach up to take the sides of his face. It never matters how fast or chaotic the world is spinning around me – when Peeta is with me this way I am a hopeless heap of mindless matter. All I want is more of him. All I want is all of him.
An hour later, our naked bodies cuddled closely under the covers of the large bed, we are discussing names and making bets on the sex, a gamble Peeta will surely lose. Doesn't he know that I'm the one carrying the little creature? Naturally I'd have a better inclination than he would. He'll learn someday.
It's not until I suggest a shower that Peeta moves. He pulls himself over me and kisses me softly. It's a kiss I remember, one that promises me his absolute. His mouth moves slowly to my chin, my neck, my collarbone. He doesn't stop at my chest, or at either breast, but continues directly down the center until he's at my belly button. He leaves his lips there a little longer and then caresses the tops of my hips.
"Hello, baby," he says to my stomach, "this is your father speaking."
I chuckle and he kisses my flesh again.
"If anything happens to me I want you to know something very important. I have loved your mother with everything in me there is to give. She is the best part about me and my favorite thing about life, and I know that she'll take care of you and love you and keep you safe. If she can make you a fraction as happy as I am when I'm with her, I know you'll be the most spoiled child in the world. I'll love you, too, wherever I am."
My smiles turns down and I reach down a hand to Peeta's face.
"You'll be right here with us, Peeta," I promise. "For her first birthday, for her first word. This baby is a promise to you and me that we're going to make it. We're going to see a hundred thousand more days together."
Peeta lays one last kiss on my stomach and crawls back to his pillow. I don't know how much time we have left to lay here together, but I want to soak it in for all that it is, covering my mind with every touch and scent and color and sound.
Despite his words, I know that Peeta is confident enough to take on Snow; so is the rest of the team heading in. I might not know the details this second, but I have a feeling deep in my gut that whatever lies ahead of me I, too, will succeed. Snow is breathing his last breaths right now. His reign is nearly over.
I curl into the crook of Peeta's neck as he wraps his arms tightly around me. Before long we'll be bidding farewell to the Panem we grew up in, to the government that tried to destroy us.
Soon, we'll say hello to a new world.
To all of my faithful reviewers, I hope you are pleased with this chapter! So many of you have been really excited for this and I wanted to do you the justice you deserve. :) Thanks for reading – this story is nearing the end. Only a couple-ish chapters left!