Damaged, Broken, and Unhinged

by Fanfic Allergy

After her father dies of black lung disease and her mother sinks into depression, Katniss is forced to do the unthinkable in order to keep her younger siblings alive and out of the community home. Now, with the unexpected help of the baker's youngest son, she has to figure out how to go from just surviving to thriving in poverty-stricken Twelve. In Panem AU.

8. Dark

Last Time in Damaged, Broken, and Unhinged:

"I'm sorry!" Darius holds up his hands. "Did I do something wrong?"

I shake my head. "No. It wasn't you. That was… nice." I don't have any other word for it.

Understanding dawns on his face, his eyes becoming shuttered. "Thank you for giving me the chance. I understand."

I know he does.

And that's part of the problem.

oOo

Damaged, Broken, and Unhinged
by RoseFyre & FanficAllergy

oOo

Chapter Eight: Dark

oOo

"Weather forecast for tonight: dark."
― George Carlin

oOo

The day after Darius's offer, I sleep late, too exhausted to even consider dragging my body from the warmth of the bed I share with Prim.

I had a hard time falling asleep last night. I kept tossing and turning, mulling the offer over. Weighing the pros and cons. Trying to figure out what to do. I'm confused. Torn.

I should just say yes. It would solve so many problems. I wouldn't have to hide my mother's illness anymore. I wouldn't have to worry about how thin all of us have become. I could save up for the future. I could ensure that I'd never have to work in the mines. Prim and Aven would never have to take out tesserae. I could stop taking out tesserae… and so could Peeta. I could pay back the baker's boy. I could rid myself of the debt I owe. I could wash my hands of him. Him and his Merchant condescension.

So why can't I just say yes?

Before… what happened, it'd still be a hard decision. I'd have to accept that I'd be in a relationship with someone I don't love, that it'd be a business relationship. Even if I grew to care about Darius, which, I admit, I could see happening, it'd still always be him paying for me. He'd always have power over me. No matter if we grew to love each other, we'd never be equals.

And it would be temporary. That's both a good thing and a bad thing. Our relationship would only last as long as Darius's deployment. If I did fall in love with him, I'd lose him. Not to death, but to his job. I've seen what loss can do to someone. I'm reluctant to go through that myself. But on the positive side, if I absolutely hated the arrangement, I wouldn't be stuck with him forever. Not like Sae's daughter is stuck with her husband. He beat her, even while she was pregnant. The baby was born too early and isn't quite right because of it. Divorce isn't legal in Panem, so there's nothing she can do. A definite end date has upsides.

I'm just not sure which side would win.

But now it's even harder, because Darius is a Peacekeeper. It'd have been hard before; Peacekeepers aren't universally liked. I would probably get ostracized by some people for associating with him. But that worry pales in comparison to the fear that bright white uniform instills in me. I could barely let Darius kiss me. What happens when he tries to have sex with me? A voice in the vault of my mind whispers, Peeta asked the same thing and I brushed him off. Now, I have to consider it. For the well-being of my family, I really have to consider it.

I finally fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion. Unfortunately, my rest is shattered by the sound of someone knocking at our door. My heart lurches. I long for the day I can hear knocking at the door and not feel a stab of fear. But today is not that day.

Prim answers it and I strain my ears to hear who it might be. Please don't be a Peacekeeper, please don't be a Peacekeeper. I don't think I could even handle Darius right now.

The door to the bedroom opens. My sister stands silhouetted in the light coming in from the main room. "Katniss? You awake?"

I let out a sigh. "I am now."

"Sorry. It's just…" Her eyes flick toward the front door. "Mellark's here. He's brought tesserae."

Peeta! I haven't seen him since our fight. I never expected to see him again, let alone his tesserae. I groan. I don't want to deal with Peeta right now. If I'm being fair, I don't want to deal with anyone. But he's brought tesserae. The least I can do is thank him. "Tell him I'll be out in a minute. I need to get dressed." My hands pick at the front of my thin cotton nightgown. The material's almost see-through and the hem falls a few inches below my knees. I shouldn't have worn it to bed, it's not winter appropriate. But it's my favorite: a gift from my father on my twelfth birthday. I wanted the comfort the garment gives me.

Prim tilts her head, her eyes taking in my every gesture. "You don't have to see him if you don't want. You don't owe him anything, Katniss."

I hum noncommittally.

"I can tell him to fuck off."

"Prim!" I exclaim, shocked. When did my sister start swearing? I didn't even know she knew what that word meant!

"What?" She crosses her arms and thrusts her chin forward. "We don't need him, Katniss. Or his charity," she spits it out like it's a dirty word. "I know you don't want me to take out tesserae, but it's still an option."

I shake my head. It doesn't matter if it's an option, I'm not letting her do it. "Let me talk to him."

"Fine." She starts to turn but changes her mind, pointing at me instead. "But if he says one word about the sacrifices you've made to feed our family, I'm gonna deck him."

Part of me is amused at the visual of my sister punching a boy who's easily twice her size. The other part doesn't want Prim around for this confrontation. Peeta might let the wrong thing slip. She doesn't know about Donaldson or Darius's offer, and I intend to keep it that way. "I don't suppose I can convince you to take Aven out to play," I suggest, despite knowing she won't go.

"No way," Prim's voice is firm. "I'm not leaving you alone with him, Katniss. Who knows what he'll do?"

The thought of Peeta doing something to me has never crossed my mind. But then again, I never would've guessed he'd say something so hurtful, and he did. My eyes steal to the open door. It's likely Peeta's heard most of this conversation. The walls aren't that thick. But if he hasn't, he doesn't need to find out more from Prim and me yelling at each other.

Deciding not to push any further, I make a shooing motion so she'll leave and I can get dressed.

A minute or so later, I step out of the bedroom, pulling the worn wool of my sweater over my head. I smooth it down, my fingers picking at the pills on the faded green yarn. I'm not looking forward to this conversation. I'm afraid of getting hurt again. I'm afraid of just what Peeta might demand from me. He knows too many of my secrets. One word from him and we'll all be in the Community Home. One word from him and I'll never see my little brother again. It scares me just how much power he has over me.

I lift my eyes, unable to avoid the confrontation any further. Peeta's staring at me. His face cycles through several different emotions. I can only pick out two of them: regret and hope.

"Prim says you've brought tesserae." As greetings go, it's not the nicest, but it's the best I can do in this instance.

"Yeah." He shuffles his feet. "I'm sorry I'm late. There was a backlog."

Prim snorts in derision.

"No really, there was. Without the trains, they just sort of… ran out." He scratches at the back of his neck.

"Katniss was able to get her tesserae." Prim's bending the truth. I was able to get my tesserae, but only after a train came in. Even then they were still delayed a day or two. Still, mine weren't anywhere near as late as Peeta's.

Peeta flinches. "I didn't go right away. I should've. I'm sorry. By the time I went, there was a waiting list."

Prim lets out another snort.

I step in before my sister makes things worse. "Darius mentioned the trains were having trouble. Thank you for bringing it now. You know, you don't have to."

"Yes, I do!" His voice is insistent, earnest. "I promised you. We made a deal."

"I thought the deal was off." I play with my sweater, watching him out of the corner of my eye. "I made it pretty clear I didn't want to see you again."

He flinches again. "If that's what you want. You don't… you don't have to give me anything for the tesserae. I can just… bring it over when you're not home. I can leave it with your sister. You don't have to give me anything. Not even your time."

"That's not how it works, don't you remember? Guys always want something. Isn't that what you said?" I'm a little surprised at how cold my tone is. I still haven't forgiven Peeta for what he said, for what he implied. I'm not sure I can.

"I'm sorry." His eyes dart to Prim. "Do you think we can, you know, talk about this just the two of us?"

"I already know everything." Prim crosses her arms over her chest. "And I'm not going anywhere."

"If you've got something to say, you can say it to both of us." Even though I'd rather Prim not be involved in this conversation, we need to present a united front. She's made her stance clear. The only thing I can do at this point is back her.

Peeta sighs, his shoulders drooping. "I'm… I'm sorry, Katniss. I shouldn't have said what I did."

"You shouldn't have called her a whore, you mean." Prim's tone is harsh.

"Yeah. I shouldn't have called her a whore." He looks over at me. "I shouldn't have called you a whore. It was wrong…" He takes a deep breath. "...I was wrong. And… you're right. I don't get to decide who you hang out with. If you wanna see that Peacekeeper, that's your decision. I shouldn't have assumed we were…" he trails off.

"Shouldn't have assumed you two were what?" Prim pushes even though I wish she wouldn't.

He hangs his head, one foot tracing a pattern on the floor. "I shouldn't have assumed Katniss and me were anything more than just friends."

"No, you shouldn't have," I step in before Prim can.

"I'm sorry," Peeta repeats. "I'd like to start over. Try again. Being friends, I mean," he clarifies quickly. "I'm not gonna push you for anything. I'll still give you the tesserae, you don't have to be my friend. It's not… it's not fair for me to ask anything of you. If I do, I'm no better than…" He lets the thought trail off but I know what, or rather who, he's referring to: Donaldson. He's comparing himself to the man who assaulted me. "Whatever you want to do, that's what I'm offering. If you don't want to see me, I understand. I just…"

As Peeta babbles, I think about what he's actually saying. I want to believe him, that he really is sorry, but I'm not sure I can trust him. "Do you promise not to say anything like that again?" I ask, after he trails off for a second time.

He lifts his head to look me in the eye. "I can't promise I won't say anything stupid, but I'll never call you that again. Please. I'm sorry. Can we just start over?" His blue eyes are wide, pleading.

I don't know if his apology is enough.

"It's going to take some time for me to trust you again," I tell him honestly. "But if you're serious, really serious, I'll give you another chance."

A ghost of a smile flits across his lips. "Thank you." He takes a step forward.

I hold up my hand to stop him from getting too close. "But we're going to start slow. The four of us can sit together at lunch again, and I won't avoid you at school. But I don't think walking with you to and from school is a good idea."

Peeta looks disappointed, but nods.

"Also, I'll reconsider our arrangement. After all, friends don't buy each other's friendships." I nod my head to the pile of grain and oil stacked haphazardly inside the doorway.

"And if that doesn't work, I'll teach you to hunt," Prim pipes up. "We Everdeens don't take charity. Especially from people claiming to be our friends."

"But my name's already in the bowl. If you don't take it, it'll just go to waste."

My eyes meet Prim's. Should we take the tesserae? Prim lifts one shoulder slightly. The miniscule shrug tells me she's letting me make the final choice. I think about it. We need the food, but if I accept Darius's offer we won't, and it'd be hard to explain why the baker's youngest son is dropping off tesserae at a Peacekeeper's house.

Making up my mind, I state, "If you want to offer us the tesserae for now, we'll take it. But if my mother gets better or we manage to find another source of income, you'll have to find some other use for it."

Peeta makes a face, but says, "Then I guess we have a deal."

"I guess we do."

oOo

The frigid weather finally snaps over the weekend. Almost overnight, District Twelve comes to life. The Seam hums with activity as people take advantage of the warmer temperatures.

Thom and I are among them. The two of us slip out to the Meadow, our boots crunching through the snow. With Donaldson gone and Darius's protection, I think setting a few snares will be safe enough, so long as we aren't too obvious about it.

It's still too cold to stay outside for as long as our snares will need. Once they're set, Thom and I head back to my house. His home is closer to the Meadow, but mine has more privacy.

While I make tea, Thom sits down at our kitchen table. "Your mom's still out of it, huh?"

I nod.

"How much longer can you keep this up?"

I know he's not asking about my mother. The question's broader than that.

"Until I get caught," I answer. "Or…"

"Or what?"

I turn around, leaning back against the counter. I haven't told anyone this, not even Prim. I know what she would say: she'd tell me I don't need to take the offer, just like she told me I didn't need to go to Cray. I don't want to have that discussion with her. But Thom… Thom has never interfered with my choices. He'll give it honest thought and tell me his true opinion. "You promise you won't judge me?"

My friend looks at me, confused. "Sure."

"You know that Peacekeeper I've been hanging out with, the red-headed one?"

"Daniel? Darren? Something like that."

I nod again. "Darius. He's… he's asked me to be his companion."

"'Companion' as in friend or 'companion' as in…" He gives me a pointed look.

"The second one."

Thom grunts. "How much is he offering?"

"Fifty a month. And…" I play with my braid, not looking at Thom. "He wants me to live with him."

"What about your family?"

"They'll live with us too." Thom knows I wouldn't even consider this if I couldn't protect Prim and Aven. My mother… can't. So it's up to me. Or, maybe, it's up to Darius. "He's offered to take care of all four of us."

Thom lets out a low whistle. "You're gonna take it." It's not really a question.

I shift uncomfortably, turning back to the stove.

"You are going to take it, aren't you?" Had something like this been offered to Thom's older sister when his family was at their lowest, she would've taken it in a heartbeat. I know he's wondering why I'm not jumping at the chance, even with the stigma.

"I'm thinking about it."

"What's there to think about? You'll get a place to live, everything provided for you and your family, money to save for the future… what's the catch?"

"I won't be able to be with anybody else for at least five years."

He shrugs. "Okay, that kind of sucks, but it's not a deal-breaker. I'm not saying you should take it. But I don't understand why you haven't. What's wrong with him? Does he want you to do perverted stuff? Is Prim part of the deal?"

"No!" I cry out, before he can come up with something even worse. I realize I have to tell Thom the truth. He doesn't know about Donaldson. He doesn't know about what happened. How can I explain to my friend that I would turn down an easy job which doesn't require back-breaking work without explaining my fears?

I take a deep breath. "It's 'cause he's a Peacekeeper."

"So? Cray's a Peacekeeper. You didn't have any problems going to him."

"Something happened to me." Using as few words as possible, I tell Thom what happened. How Darius was the one who stopped it the second time, but how any time I see the uniform or someone knocks at the door, my heart starts to race and I break out in a cold sweat.

Thom sits silently for a long time, allowing me to finish making our tea. I hand him a mug and sit down across from him, waiting for him to say something.

After several long minutes, he says, "Mellark knew about this, didn't he?"

I nod.

"That's what your fight was about."

I nod again.

"You wanna talk about it?"

I stare down into my tea. "I think so."

"You don't have to give me the whole story, Katniss. Just whatever you think I should know." He puts his hand on top of mine. Despite the weather, his hand is warm. "You know I've got your back, right?"

I look up at him. "I know. And I've got yours."

"Then we're cool. So… what'd Mellark do to make you avoid him for two weeks?"

I take a deep breath. "He called me a whore."

Thom's lips thin. His hand squeezes mine. "You think anyone would mind if I gave him a black eye? Maybe two."

I shake my head, pulling my hand back so I can drink my tea. "No, don't. He's apologized. We're working it out."

Thom's eyes narrow but he doesn't say anything. He takes a sip of his tea and regards me seriously. "So, going back to this whole Davan thing," he says, a twinkle in his eye letting me know he's deliberately messing up Darius's name on purpose, "you know I didn't mean to sound like I was putting pressure on you. You don't have to say yes to his offer if you don't want to."

"I know."

"You don't have to say no, either. You get to decide what's right for you. I'm not gonna judge you on whatever you need to do to survive. Just know I'm here for you."

I give my friend a weak smile. "Thanks. I feel the same." Thom's stuck with me through the darkest times in my life. He helped out as much as he could after my father died. His mother even gave me more in trade for my father's things than they were worth, and I know it's because Thom asked her to.

He smiles back. We sit in comfortable silence, sipping our tea. Prim and Aven are out, and even though my mother's still comatose in her bed, I can pretend it's just me and Thom in the house.

"You know," he breaks the silence, "I wonder if the reason Mellark was such an ass was because he's got a crush on you. Not that it excuses him any, but I think I can understand why he'd be angry. He's not really angry at you. He's angry at himself for not being able to help you. I don't have feelings like that for you and I keep wishing there was something more I could do to help."

"But he is helping me. He's taking out tesserae for me." I gesture at the bags of grain decorating the room. Some of them fit into the cabinets, but not all.

"Then I don't know. All I wanna say is you don't owe anything to anyone. Not to Dallas, not to that Merchant kid, not to anyone. Not even to me."

"Thanks."

Thom drains his mug and pulls out a ball of string. "So, would you mind showing me that knot again?"

I'm grateful for the subject change. "Which one?"

"The one you use to tie down that sapling. The one that kinda looked like it was wrapped around itself?" He tries to knot the string. It's not anywhere near his goal, but I know which knot he means.

"Oh, sure." I demonstrate it a few times before giving the string back to him.

He tries again but the knot unravels. "I am never gonna get the hang of this."

"Sure you are." I demonstrate again. He fails again, but this time I catch a hint of something. He's not really paying attention to me. His mind's elsewhere. "Or maybe you'll get the hang of it when you get whatever's bothering you off your chest."

"You know me too well, huh?"

"I told you my deep dark secrets..." I leave it hanging.

"I asked Delly out."

"And?"

"She said yes."

"And?"

He plays with the string in his hand, crinkling it up into a mess. "And I'm just really nervous about screwing it up."

"You're not taking her to the slag heap, are you?"

"No!" His head shoots up and he glares at me. "Who do you think I am, Hawthorne?"

"So what are you doing?"

"Nothing much, just walking her home. Doing homework together. Working on that damned essay." He shrugs. "Not like there's much to do this time of year."

It's true. Winter is kind of a bad time in the romance department. Summer gives more opportunities for walks or picnics or other date-type things. I suppose walking a girl home from school counts as a date in the middle of February. It suddenly makes me realize Peeta probably considered every single one of our walks to be a date, even though I hadn't. I'd just assumed he was doing it to protect me from Donaldson.

"So why are you so nervous?" I'd rather concentrate on Thom's romantic problems than on mine.

"I dunno. It's… Delly. She's a merchant, and I'm Seam."

"Do you really think she cares about that?"

"I hope not," he sighs. "Not like I can change who I am or where I come from."

"Well, I'm happy for you. I hope things work out."

"Yeah, there's a bit of a hiccup with you and Mellark still on the outs. Kind of hard to woo a girl when you're having to avoid her best friend."

I wince. "Sorry. Didn't mean to put a damper on your love life."

He waves it off. "Don't worry about it. I meant what I said: I got your back. Delly's got Mellark's. Her and me? We'll figure it out."

We sit in silence again as Thom plays with the string and I finish my tea. He's making little knots and unraveling them. He doesn't quite have it, yet, but maybe… "So now that you've got that deep dark secret off your chest, why don't you try that knot again?"

He does, his fingers fumbling a bit, but when he finishes, he's got a passable two-half-hitch knot. With some more practice, Thom might actually be a decent trapper.

oOo

Thom and I enter the temporary lunchroom. While the weather's warmer, it's still too cold to eat outside. There's a few tables and mats strewn across the hardwood floors, but many students are sitting directly on the ground. Not enough resources. It's just a part of life in Twelve.

I scan the room. Delly and Peeta have managed to commandeer one of the mats and are sitting against one wall.

Okay. Time to face the music. I take a deep breath. Peeta and I have made up. Mostly. This'll be a test of just how enduring his apology is and if I'm ready to forgive him. I'm glad Thom's stuck with me, even though it means he hasn't gotten to hang out with Delly. I really need to know someone's in my corner.

As I get closer, I notice Delly's wearing the ribbon Thom gave her. It's tying her hair back into a low ponytail which spills over one shoulder. It's not her usual hairstyle. The change suits her.

Peeta looks up when we're a few feet away. My stomach clenches. This is the moment of truth. I wait silently for a signal that it's okay to sit with them.

Thom doesn't have any such compunctions. "Mind if we join you two?" he asks in an easy, casual tone.

Delly perks up, beaming at my friend, before flicking her eyes to the boy next to her. "If Peeta's okay with it, sure!"

It's all down to the boy with the bread. "Katniss?" he says, shifting the onus onto me.

I know what he's asking. Do I want to sit with him? Is this okay?

I nod.

"Sure you can sit with us," Peeta says. And just like that the ice is broken.

"Oh good!" Delly says as Thom and I take our seats. "You two've stopped fighting. I was afraid Thom and I would have to stage an intervention! Our little group needs the two of you. Lunch wasn't nearly as much fun," she elbows Peeta, "was it?"

Peeta grunts.

"That's what I've been having to deal with ever since you two had your little tiff. Peeta's been Mr. Mopey-Face," she turns to me, "and you've been a ghost."

"Sorry?"

She waves a hand. "Oh don't be! It's all better now. Just promise me you two won't fight like that again. It makes my tummy all grumbly. And poor Thom gets this little line right between his eyebrows. I just want to smooth it away." She reaches out to rub her fingers right above Thom's nose. "There. It's gone! So. Now that we're all friends again, have any of you started working on that essay yet? I don't have any idea what to say!"

As Delly babbles, Peeta hands me a slightly burned drop biscuit. I take it with a smile, our fingers brushing briefly. Delly's right. It is nice to put this behind us. Now, if we can only get her to stop talking about that damned essay.

oOo

I'm eating lunch when the sirens go off. All the kids around me stop and stare out the window at the falling snow. Everyone knows what that sound means. There's been an accident in the mines. The students whose parents labor beneath the earth start to shake with nervousness and fear.

I'm one of them.

I pray my father's okay, that he wasn't in the blast. In the distance, the blaring siren is joined by more alarms amid the ominous rumble of even more explosions. The earth beneath my feet shakes.

Several children start screaming. The teachers struggle to maintain calm. They fail. Some panic, scurrying off to who knows where.

The shaking intensifies and the deafening crash of breaking glass pierces the cacophony.

I startle.

From a distance, I hear Prim crying out in dismay and fear. The sound makes me pause, scanning the room. She shouldn't be here. She's got class. Why am I hearing her screams?

Another voice, a young child's, joins her. Aven. He shouldn't be here either. He should be at Hazelle's or home. It's that incongruity which makes me realize I'm trapped in a nightmare.

I force myself awake, pushing away the sirens and the shouts, concentrating on Prim and Aven's voices. They aren't part of my dream. Their terror is too immediate.

I sit up in bed to discover the sound of breaking glass wasn't part of my nightmare either. It's real. Someone's throwing heavy objects through the windows at the front of our house.

Fear courses through me. Someone's attacking us.

A shadow crosses the window of the bedroom and I leap into action. I hiss at Prim, "Grab the covers and get on Mom's bed!"

Not waiting to see if she obeys, I cross the room to the little trundle Aven sleeps on when he isn't crawling into the bed I share with Prim. During the day, it gets shoved underneath my mother's larger bed, but at night, it's pulled out so Aven can sleep below the window and watch the moon and stars.

My brother's not moving. He's screaming and crying, pointing at the door to the bedroom. I pull him into my arms, trying to get him to the relative safety of the center of the room. He buries his tear-strewn face in my neck. His little body trembles like a leaf.

The three of us huddle next to our still-unresponsive mother on the large bed. I wish I had something, anything, to use as a weapon, but mine and my father's bows are carefully hidden out in the woods, and any knives we might have are located out in the kitchen, where the attack seems to be centered.

For an undetermined length of time, more heavy objects are hurled through the front windows. Voices scream and shout, calling out what I'm sure are insults, but I can't make them out over Aven's screams and the pounding of my own heart. I keep waiting for something to be hurled through the bedroom window. Or for the smell of smoke to creep under the door. But none of that happens.

Eventually, the jeering voices and hurled objects stop. But I'm unwilling to leave the safety of the bedroom. It could be a ruse. A trick. And if there's one thing this attack has proven, it's that nowhere is safe. Not even my own home.

When dawn finally stains the eastern horizon, I climb out from under the covers to survey the damage. The bedroom escaped unscathed. I peek through the window into our yard, noting places where someone in large boots has walked. There's an impression facing the window. Someone was watching us. Another set of prints lead to the chicken coop and a sinking feeling forms in my gut. I take a deep breath. Time to face the worst of the damage.

"Keep Aven in here," I tell Prim, pulling my boots on over my bare feet.

Prim doesn't argue.

I open the door of the bedroom to reveal a war zone. All three windows have been smashed in, sending shards of glass careening around the room. Rocks litter the floor, some with writing on them, some not. The remains of glass bottles are mixed in with the broken windows. They'd been filled with some kind of liquid. I wonder what. I take a deep breath and an unmistakable smell assaults my nostrils: urine. The attackers threw urine-filled bottles into my house.

Tears fill my eyes as I take stock of the damage. The picture frames along the mantle have fallen to the floor, the protective glass shattering on impact. Anything nestled on windowsills is either broken or missing. But worst of all, the bags of tesserae grain which didn't fit into our cabinets have been ruined. Sliced open by flying glass and befouled by bodily fluids.

I sag against the door frame, blinking back tears. We were barely making ends meet before. What am I going to do now?

oOo

AN:
Written: 8/18/16
Revised: 10/20/16
Revised 2: 11/1/16
Betaread by: Amy & Xerxia31

So, yay Peeta apologizing. As you may have noticed, Katniss doesn't immediately welcome him back into her life with open arms. That's because Peeta's hurt her and she's a little more wary, a little more skittish. They're going to have to work a little more to get back to the friendship that they had before, let alone beyond. There's some underlying problems and expectations they need to deal with. We're still endgame Everlark, it's just...going to be slow. Seriously, we take the words 'slow build' seriously.

On to Thom and why he's both supportive and non-judgmental. Social mores are different in Panem so Thom isn't going to advise her to do what we in the 21st century would. We felt it was important to show that men and women can be friends without it being sexual or romantic, and to avoid falling into the pit trap of "well, not all guys," so Thom has taken on that role. Besides, we like Thom. And Delly. And Thom and Delly.

Things we Randomized:

-If Prim hunted/gathered and if she got anything (no and no)

-If Katniss and/or Thom caught anything when they did snares in the Meadow (he did, she didn't)

Thanks for reading! Let us know what you think!

Curious about what else we're doing? Check out our original writing under the name Christina Rose Andrews. We're on Tumblr, Twitter and Facebook.