"You didn't tell him!" I scream in a hoarse voice, one that would have been much worse a week ago. But my pure, unadulterated anger for the awful drunk in front of me has taken over me in full force, and all of a sudden all my depression has disappeared for the moment. Which means I had no problem at all shoving the old drunk out of his chair with all the strength I have left after I labored over getting here, a mere thirty yards maybe but after crying for at least an hour and the lack of movement it took me much longer than it should have. But my strength is back with the rage, and surprisingly, it's a lot.
He waves around his knife as his bottle of that white liquor spills over the table and onto him making me think somewhere in my fury that Ripper is back in Twelve and in business again somehow, but it's quickly pushed aside again as I stand over the man as he stops flinging his knife around and looks up to me, swelled belly and all from his place on the ground.
"I told ya I wasn't gonna tell anyone!" he yells back, trying to get up from his place on the floor and holding his head in his hand that's covered in alcohol. I'm still seeing red, but even through that I can tell what he's really trying to say. That when he said he wouldn't tell anyone at all about my…condition back in the hospital in the Capitol, he meant it. But in this situation, I would have much rather him inform Peeta than have it come to the surface the way it did.
He's looks up and assesses that I'm not going to shove or hurt him anymore most likely, so he cautiously stands up and looks down at me, shaking his head. "Tell ya the truth, I can't believe it took the boy so long. Thought he was smarter than that."
Me too, but that's not the point. I mean granted that blanket was pretty thick, but why wouldn't he have figured it out? Actually, I'm surprised he didn't figure it out before, in District 13 or even the Capitol. Quite a few other people did, that's for certain. Even if they said nothing they knew. Heck, I figured out that he didn't know this week and still didn't just tell him. Suddenly I feel guilty for that and angry at all of us, because he really didn't deserve to find out like that. Or really, at all, but I guess that was inevitable. So almost inperceptively, I nod in agreement to Haymitch but can't seem to make myself talk out of guilt. This really is my fault.
Haymitch picks up the bottle that spilled with his rude wakeup call and downs what's left of the bottle before speaking again, assessing me. Trying to see if he should inform me or not of something. I sigh, tired of not knowing anything.
"Well?" I question him almost annoyed but so, so tired. All this energy used that I really don't have is starting to drain on me now that the adrenaline is fading away. I just need to know what he does so I can work my way back home and crash again into exhaustion and misery, hoping to leave this awful day behind in sleep.
"Came over here stormin in a few hours ago, upset and angry. Said he felt stupid not figuring it out, that he thought it was yer legs under the blanket but it wasn't. Asked if I knew too."
Oh well I guess that explains that one little part, why he didn't figure it out himself. He thought my stomach was my knees and that I was sitting with my arms around them in an almost fetal position I guess. Guess he never saw my legs under the blanket, but it still doesn't resolve anything. We all hurt him greatly, me more than anyone.
"Where is he now? At his house?" I ask, knowing that going over there today would not be a good idea even if I had the energy to do it. Suddenly I remember how long it took him to forgive me after the first arena, when he finally found out that I was acting. That I just wanted to come home to my family and Gale. And now…well now, he knows what I've really done with Gale, and it's so much worse. The evidence is so blatantly in his face that it wouldn't be good of me to go at all, and rather wait for him to come to me.
"Nah. Said he couldn't stay here and left, probably for the Capitol or sometin." He replies, stumbling over to his counter and getting a new bottle, twisting off the cap.
I don't blame him in the least, but I wish…I guess I wish I could just explain. Even when I really wouldn't know how to explain in the first place. "Oh." I reply softly, and then stare at Haymitch's now full new bottle. I almost wish I could take one myself like I did after the Quarter Quell announcement and drink myself into oblivion at least for the day, but I couldn't even if I wanted to. Besides, there's no one to go home to or take care of me this time.
"You like fucking things up, don't ya?" Haymitch has all the grace of a drunk to smirk at me before shaking his head in amusement. "Pun intended."
I'd roll my eyes at him, but that would just be begging for another joke on my screwed up situation or another hey guess what I'm unexpectedly pregnant when I didn't want to be laugh on his part, so I settle for glaring at him. I'd like to fuck him up, as in the pummel his face into nothing way, but I know it wouldn't help anything. Because as much as I hate to admit it, he's right in a way, and he's not really the one that's to blame even though I'd love to for all my problems. It's my fault. And Gale's. And the Capitol and Coin's and a whole slew of people. But mostly mine.
But it's too easy to just hate Haymitch right now, and that's what I let myself do as I turn around and prepare myself for the long exhausting tread home, but when I get to the door his voice stops me.
"You can hate me all ya want sweetheart but ya know I'm not to blame." Haymitch warns me, almost annoyingly reading my mind. I really hate with a passion how much alike we are sometimes, especially now. "Lying didn't help ya any, did it?"
No, it didn't. Not at all. But I let myself become that dirty, dirty liar, letting it become a part of me. Ever since that first time in the woods in District 13, when Prim asked me why I was dirty with streaks of dirt and mud on my clothes and face, when I told her I had just fallen. And in a way, I did fall. I fell for the tantalizing option at the moment that lying would protect her, that she didn't need to know. I fell for all of Coin's hatred and traps because I was too focused on someone that in the end didn't even matter. And I started truly falling for…no, don't go there. It doesn't even matter anymore.
"No." I mutter, but somehow he hears me and continues. I really don't want to listen but I can't seem to get myself to move.
"No." he repeats, and even without turning around I can see his arms crossed on his chest, a smirk he wishes wasn't there gracing his face as his eyes bore into the back of my head, probably wishing that I hadn't screwed my own life over so horribly. "It never does. But if ya want someone to blame, I'd say your hunter could be your target for most of yer problems. Including the one growin in ya."
And for a moment, I'm truly surprised. I knew that he knew who's kid it was, that I had be having sex with him for months. But this is the closest he's ever come to really admitting it, and it makes me want to cry. In fact, the tears are beginning to gather in my eyes and I'm glad that Haymitch can't see them. I'd blame it all on hormones and Prim, but even I know that's not true. But I don't want to think about it anymore, so I walk out without another word and labor my way home. And I don't let the tears fall until I'm back on my couch with the blanket protecting me, sobbing into a pillow for everything, everything I've lost.
I must have cried myself to sleep with mental and physical exhaustion, because the next thing I knew the sun was shining and Greasy Sae could be heard in the kitchen. I haven't bothered looking in a mirror but since she stared at my face when she brought me food just a second too long I'd say it's safe to say that my face is red and puffy. Not that I care, but I wish I didn't.
With no one to talk to or force me to do something in a week, I revert back to my silent, brooding depressed self with occasional fantasies when that feeling comes over me, not for the first time wishing they didn't. My baby moves inside me sometimes and that brings me momentarily out of my state, but I try to avoid the anger it brings. It only reminds me of what Haymitch said to me, and Gale, and neither I particularly want to think about. They both only make me angry and I'm too exhausted to give into it.
But one time when it happens, I let myself think what would have happened if I hadn't been pregnant, or even had sex with Gale in the first place. I didn't have to give into the feeling back in those woods, not really. I didn't have to prove anything and there were other ways of making him feel better (though I highly doubt they would have been as effective). Prim still would have died and I'd guess the war would have ended still, but so much more could have been different. For one, I really don't think I'd get all these horny urges and have to think of Gale to somewhat sate the beast. I'd guess that Peeta would have stayed and maybe I would have even gotten better with his help, because he wouldn't have this blatantly obvious reason not to stay. I still wouldn't have wanted to see Gale, but maybe if I hadn't had the shock of being pregnant then I would have stayed in that state of depression full time. I certainly wouldn't have been eating, that's for sure. But would I have been happier in the end? It's hard to think I'll ever be happy or even content again after Prim died, but this baby I guess does give me a reason to live even though it's not here yet. Still, it doesn't mean I wish I was pregnant.
The day fades into night and I sleep whenever, not really paying attention or caring for time. But sometime the next day I'd guess since the sun is shining through the window, I hear the door open. I wouldn't normally wake to it, but I know that Greasy Sae always uses the kitchen door and she must have left hours ago so it can't be her. So blinking away sleep, I make myself sit up and wait for whoever it is.
It's probably Haymitch, though he's never come to check up on me before. Maybe he has some more news on Peeta or something. Or it could be Peeta, coming back after cooling off to the news he found out how he most certainly shouldn't have. It almost makes a ghost of a smile come to my face, because selfishly it would mean that I wouldn't have to do this alone. He wouldn't come back here knowing I was pregnant with someone else's kid unless he was going to stay, no matter how hurt he is. At least this kid would have a good parent even if it wasn't their real one.
I don't hear a sound after the door closes, but that doesn't particularly mean anything. He may just be gathering himself to come face me and I close my eyes waiting almost nervously, trying to pull myself together and at least apologize for the way he found out. I was wrong, Haymitch was wrong, we were all wrong for at least not warning him.
But I don't hear anymore sounds after ten seconds, and I find myself wondering what the heck Peeta is doing. Surely it doesn't take that long to gather himself, does it? He's the one that came back to me. So opening my eyes and turning my face towards the door to wait for him to come in, my eyes go wide with fear and hurt and a thousand other emotions for the first time in months and it mirrors me right back, but really all I can think is how utterly stupid I am. Because I didn't instantly wonder why I didn't hear any noise. It's because the person in front of me doesn't make any noise when he moves.
Gale.