CHAPTER 30

PART I

"Do you know what today is?"

I had been awake for a while, but I had been lying in bed quietly, my eyes closed, listening to the early-morning sounds of the forest that drifted through the open window – mockingjays singing to each other, the wind sighing softly through the trees, and the distant rumble of thunder from the storm that had passed over us hours before. It was my favorite time of day, before I had to rise to head into town to oversee work on my new bakery. I looked like I was still asleep – but, of course, it didn't fool Katniss one bit.

"No," I murmured as I opened my eyes and turned my head towards the sound of her voice. "What's today?"

Katniss was propped up on one elbow, gazing solemnly at my face. "Reaping Day."

Those two words sent a chill down my spine, and, for an instant, I wasn't lying in bed with Katniss in our new house in the settlement known as the Triad. I was in a cramped, musty apartment in District Twelve, with my mother fussing about, laying out clothes for my brothers and me to wear at the Reaping, and wondering if the cold knot of fear in my belly would cause me to puke up my breakfast. Only the image of Katniss's face, so near mine, was able to pull me back to the present.

Still, the fear that those two words evoked lingered. "Reaping Day?" I croaked. "What do you mean?"

Katniss sighed and rolled away from me. "Don't you ever read your messages?" she chided me gently as she rolled back, her PADD clutched in one hand. She thrust the device towards me. "Read the first message."

The powers-that-be in the Capitol had issued all Triad families (Katniss and I were deemed "important," and so each of us was issued a PADD - an electronic data and messaging device) a PADD in order to keep lines of communication open until reliable telephone service could be established for all households and businesses. For now, several communications vans had been set up to relay data and official messages to and from the Capitol. No voice or video yet – but we had instant communications with the new government of the Free Republic of Panem, and, more importantly, with each other.

I quickly scanned the message that Katniss had referred to. President Pullman had decreed that this day, the second anniversary of the last Reaping Day, to be observed as a national holiday. The occasion was to be marked with "appropriate ceremonies, solemn observances, and reflection." To that end, Pullman had further decreed a day of rest, except for those offices and businesses that provided "vital services to the Republic." And that, of course, would mean that there would be no work done on my new bakery today.

After reading the message I handed the PADD back to Katniss with a sheepish grin. "You scared me for a second," I admitted.

Katniss set the PADD on the nightstand and gave me an exasperated look. "Peeta, you need to not work so hard on your bakery." She smiled at me and touched my cheek with her fingertips. "After all, we hardly need the money."

I grasped her hand and kissed her fingers. We had been married during the previous Harvest Festival – the first, and only, holiday since the end of the war – in a small, private ceremony. Effie, of course, had wanted a huge, lavish affair – an idea that Katniss and I shot down immediately – and we opted instead for a very simple civil union, with only family and close friends present. And not a day had gone by since that I wasn't eternally thankful that Katniss was now my wife, and I her husband.

Still – I needed something more. To feel useful. To contribute. We had been busy enough throughout the spring, with our new home here in the Triad. Ever since the survey crews had finished their job the previous fall, work had begun on preparing the first batch of Triad homesteaders to occupy the new settlement. Industries throughout Panem had reopened dormant factories and manufacturing plants and had been busy all winter constructing sections of prefabricated homes and buildings so that construction could begin as soon as the warmth of the new spring melted away the winter snows.

Katniss and I had been among the first of the Triad settlers and had been assigned a prefab home like everyone else. Katniss's only request had been that we not live in town, but rather on the outskirts, on the edge of the forest. Here, she was back in her element, and was soon happily exploring her new hunting grounds. It took her less than a week to make her first significant kill – a deer – a fine buck that supplied meat not only for us, but for several other families that had settled here. Soon, Katniss had become the Triad's unofficial hunter, providing fresh meat to many of the residents here. Her efforts and contributions motivated me to labor day in and day out on my new bakery – for I, too, was eager to make my own contribution to our new community.

Well, it seems that my contribution would have to wait for one more day. We had a day of rest coming to us.

I gazed up at Katniss's face. Her brief smile had faded once more, replaced by a now-familiar solemn look. Her memories had completely returned, and her body had healed with hardly a scar from her terrible injuries, but there was something – different – about her. I knew she missed her sister terribly – Prim had remained in the Capitol, along with Katniss's mother, to take advantage of the educational opportunities afforded by Panem's only university. Katniss was immensely proud of her sister – Prim was well on her way to achieving her dream of becoming a full-fledged medical doctor – but that didn't make it easier for Katniss to be separated from her sister. Add to that the fact that most of the people that Katniss considered to be friends were either dead or scattered throughout Panem. Katniss had never made friends easily before the hovercraft crash, and she struggled with her lack of social skills even more now. I knew she loved me, but she wanted – and needed – more than just me in her life.

Maybe a day off was what Katniss needed to help her break out of her shell. "What do you think we should do today?" I asked. "I mean, we have a mandatory day off."

Katniss shrugged. "I don't – oh!" Her face suddenly turned ashen and her eyes widened slightly. She clamped her mouth tightly shut and rolled out of bed. I had a brief glimpse of her unnaturally smooth body – the early summer weather was warm enough for us to both sleep naked – as she lunged for the bathroom, holding one hand over her mouth.

"Katniss?" I said, my voice tinged with concern as the bathroom door slammed shut behind her. From behind the closed door the unmistakable sounds of vomiting drifted into the bedroom. I swung my legs off the bed and walked to the bathroom door. I knocked softly and put my face near the door. "Katniss?" I said again. "Is there anything I can do? Can I help?"

The vomiting sounds faded, followed by a groan and the sound of the toilet flushing. "Be right out," I heard Katniss mumble through the closed door.

I stepped back from the door and waited. A few seconds later, the door opened, and Katniss shuffled through, as she wiped her mouth with a hand towel. "I'm okay," she said softly. "Must be something I ate."

I put my hands on her shoulders and pulled her close to me. "How can that be?" I asked gently. "We've both eaten the same thing, and I feel fine."

I felt her shrug. "I dunno," she murmured into my chest. Her arms tightened around me as I stroked her back. "Maybe I'm coming down with something." She glanced up at my concerned face. "I feel better now, Peeta. Really."

"There's a medical clinic in town," I said. "It's still under construction, but I heard that they have a doctor there now, and I think that you should –"

"No," Katniss said firmly. "Peeta, I'm fine." She gave me a wan smile. "Maybe a day off is what I need." She kissed me gently on my cheek. "Now, let's have breakfast and we'll walk into town and see what's going on with the rest of the Triad today."

At breakfast, I couldn't help but notice that Katniss barely touched her cheese bun.

Later that morning, as we walked into town, Katniss seemed to feel a little better. It was a beautiful day and the fresh, pine-scented air really seemed to give Katniss an energy boost. We didn't run into many people at first – Katniss and I lived farther away from the main settlement than any others that relocated here – but the closer we got to town, the more people we began to see. Some we knew – former District Twelve refugees, mostly, but a surprising number of people from District Thirteen as well – but many had been resettled from District Eight. These people had it harder than most. Like District Twelve, District Eight was considered a "dead" district. Some of the fiercest fighting of the war had happened there, not to mention Coriolanus Snow's nuclear attack. It had become easier to relocate those survivors to other districts than to try to rebuild. The only problem with that was something that Dr. Aurelius called "cultural incompatibility."

Simply put, the forced isolation of the districts following the Dark Days resulted in each district forming their own unique culture. After seventy-five years, the culture and customs of, say, District Eight may clash with the culture and customs of someplace like District Four, or District Ten. I saw this first-hand when the mostly-passive residents of District Twelve were forced to live in District Thirteen – a very militaristic, disciplined society. The Twelve refugees in District Thirteen violated customs and rules regularly for weeks, even months, after their arrival. We were lucky – District Thirteen wanted us there. But now, with inter-district travel a common thing once again, and with thousands of refugees to resettle, the new government was finding it easier to offer refugees the chance to settle in the Triad. Here, there were no preconceived customs to accidentally violate, and those from District Eight, among others, found it much easier to assimilate.

We ran into some of these District Eight refugees during our walk into town. It was a family: the parents were former textile workers, and they had four young children – two boys and two girls. They had just been assigned a house and were still getting settled in when the "holiday" decree had been sent out. At first, they seemed a bit in awe of Katniss and me – Plutarch Heavensbee's media machine was still plastering our images all over Panem – but Katniss, of all people, broke the ice when the mother shyly admitted that the kids needed shoes desperately. We knew that Delly Cartwright, an old friend and fellow refugee from District Twelve, had recently arrived in the Triad with her younger brother and her grandfather (her grandmother had died, peacefully, the previous winter) and wanted to open a shoe shop, much like her family ran in District Twelve before the war. Katniss promised to introduce them all to Delly and was literally fawning over the children – especially the youngest girl, who was about three. I knew she missed Prim terribly, but all these kids were much younger, and Katniss was not really acting sisterly to them anyway. If I didn't know better, I would say that she was acting almost motherly.

Whatever her motivation, Katniss's new-found friend would give me the perfect opportunity to slip away while Katniss searched for Delly. Because no matter what Katniss said, I fully intended to ask our new doctor about Katniss's sudden bout of vomiting earlier this morning.

PART II

We found Delly easily enough. And, as I expected, she immediately bonded with the District Eight refugees. It was impossible not to like Delly Cartwright…even Katniss had become very fond of her during our stay in District Thirteen. This is just what Katniss needed, I said to myself as I watched her and Delly with the refugee family. A day off and reconnecting with old friends. We hadn't seen Delly since before the cease-fire and surrender of the Capitol, as she had remained in Thirteen, and she was full of news regarding others that had found refuge in District Thirteen and were now free to live wherever they wanted. Katniss seemed especially pleased to hear that Madge Undersee, the Mayor's daughter that for many years had been Katniss's closest – and only – friend was due to arrive in the Triad in a few days.

Katniss was so preoccupied with Delly and the refugee family that she only nodded absently when I announced that I was going to walk around town for a bit. She did make me promise not to go anywhere near the bakery, though. That promise was easy enough to keep. I had no intention of going anywhere near the bakery. The medical clinic was on the other side of town.

I strolled nonchalantly through the town square, the evidence of continuing construction all around me. The streets were still unpaved, buildings were unpainted, and, despite the government-sanctioned holiday, there was a real sense of urgency in the air. Once autumn settled in here the weather would most likely no longer cooperate, and we all wanted all the basic services to be up and running before autumn ended and the winter snows started to fall once more.

The clinic was just past the new train station. Outwardly, it didn't look any different than many of the other prefab buildings that surrounded it. Only a large red cross painted near the peak of the roof set it apart. I hesitated for a moment before I pushed the door open – I knew that Katniss would not be happy with me for going behind her back to see our new doctor – but at that moment I was more concerned with Katniss's unexplained vomiting this morning. I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

The soft tinkle of a bell above the door announced my arrival. "Just a moment!" a feminine voice called out from somewhere in the building. The voice sounded familiar, and, as I waited by a waist-high counter that cut the room in two I soon discovered just how familiar the voice was.

"Well, well," a tall, athletically built woman said with a grin as she walked through a doorway on the other side of the counter. "Look what the wind blew in. Hello, Mellark."

"Hello, Cashmere," I said after I recovered from the surprise of seeing my fellow Victor and prison-mate. "You're about the last person I thought I'd see here. Does that mean –"

"Do we have a patient that requires my attention, my love?" This voice was instantly familiar.

Cashmere's eyes twinkled with amusement. "I'm not sure, Josephus. He appears healthy."

Dr. Josephus Picardo, former mine-company doctor turned refugee, appeared in the same doorway that Cashmere had just come through. "Well!" he said with a pleased smile. "This is unexpected!" He stepped forward and opened a gate while beckoning me through. "Come on back, young Victor."

Cashmere stepped aside, an amused smile on her face as I brushed past her. "We'll catch up later," she smirked.

"I'll be sure to let Katniss know you're here," I replied, giving her a smirk of my own. Picardo chuckled at our banter. This was not the first time he had heard Cashmere and me trade verbal barbs. It was a struggle not to laugh as I disappeared in the back with Dr. Picardo.

"We're still not fully operational," Picardo said as he led me into an examination room. It was obvious that he and Cashmere had been unpacking. Half-emptied boxes were stacked on the floors and counters. "However, I am able to dispense mild pain relievers and remove the occasional splinter," he added dryly.

He motioned me to take a seat on the examination table. Instead, I opted for a straight-backed chair. "I seem to recall," I pointed out as Picardo settled onto a rolling stool, "something about you giving up medicine once the war was over."

Picardo shrugged. "Easier said than done," he admitted. "Medicine is all I know. Besides," he added with a wink, "since the war ended, life in Thirteen had become stale - even downright boring. Medicine is in my blood, young Victor. It was either apply for resettlement here or return to District One and be Cashmere's kept man." He gave me a sly smile and another wink. "Here, I have the best of both worlds. I'm still practicing medicine, the war is over, and I'm still Cashmere's kept man!"

"When were you last in Thirteen?" I asked.

"Hmmm." Picardo stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Let's see. A week, I think. There's no direct rail service to the Triad except from the Capitol, so all of us new settlers have to go through the Capitol to get here."

"I haven't heard from Boggs since he returned to Thirteen," I said. "Is he still Acting President?"

"It's Governor Boggs now," Picardo corrected. "Districts now have 'Governors' instead of 'Mayors' or 'Presidents.' He didn't want the job, but he was placed on the ballot unopposed and elected virtually unanimously." Picardo chuckled. "Major Zander was the one that put Boggs on the ballot. So, his first official act after his election was to promote Zander to Colonel and place her in command of Thirteen's military forces. I happened to be near when he told her of the promotion. He told her, 'Congratulations, Colonel. You handed me a headache, so the least I could do was give you one of your own.'"

I laughed. That sounded so typical of Boggs. "What about Finnick and Enobaria?" I asked as my laughter died away. I knew they had both returned to Thirteen. When I had last seen them, they had both been still grieving over the loss of Annie Cresta for Finnick and Lieutenant Jackson for Enobaria.

Picardo's mood grew somber. "I fear that they shall spend the rest of their days running from their grief," he said quietly. He then went on to tell me that Finnick had chosen to settle in District Nine, of all places, while Enobaria opted for District Four.

"No one knows why they went where they did," Picardo went on. "Aurelius thinks that both districts represent the opposite of what both Victors were accustomed to – the grain fields and plains of District Nine have no counterpart in Finnick's home district of Four. And the warm, tropical beaches of District Four are nothing like the bleak, windswept rock quarries of Enobaria's District Two."

I decided to change the subject. "Any word on how well General Beck is taking his election loss to President Pullman?"

Picardo chuckled. "Not very well. He sulked back to District Ten, where, of course, he was immediately elected Governor. To complicate matters, Pullman was the only district leader during the war that steadfastly allied with Beck and District Ten. And, for all Beck's faults, he is steadfastly loyal to a comrade-in-arms. So, no matter how tempting opposing Pullman and her policies must be, Beck has found himself in the awkward position of being forced to support the new president." Picardo paused and gazed at me thoughtfully. "All right, Victor. Enough small talk. What brings you here today?"

"It's not for me," I replied slowly. "It's about Katniss."

Picardo raised one eyebrow inquisitively. "Oh?"

"She threw up this morning," I said. I began to stand. "It's probably nothing. I'm sorry for wasting your time."

Picardo waved me back into my chair. "Sit. I have no other patients. And I will decide if your visit is a waste of my time."

I sat back down. "Now then. Has Katniss been ill?" Picardo continued.

I shook my head. "No."

"What has she been eating?"

"I thought of that," I said. "I've eaten the same foods as her, and I didn't get sick."

"All the same foods?" Picardo asked. "Some food poisoning may take a day or two for symptoms to appear."

"As far as I know, we're both eating the same things."

"There are usually other symptoms that accompany food poisoning," Picardo explained. "Loose bowels, for example. How have her bowel movements been?"

"Doctor," I replied impatiently, "I have no idea. I'm not in the habit of –"

Picardo held up one hand, palm facing out. "What I meant was, has she complained to you about diarrhea or watery stools?"

"No," I said, somewhat mollified. "Although," I added, "I doubt if Katniss would mention anything if she did."

Picardo looked thoughtful. "Is this the first time you witnessed a vomiting episode?"

"Yes." I paused and then added, "Her appetite seems to be off, though. She didn't eat hardly anything at breakfast this morning."

"Hardly surprising," Picardo said dryly. "Most people aren't exactly eager to eat immediately after vomiting. Tell me, how is her libido?"

"Her what?" I asked, confused.

"Her sex drive," Picardo explained patiently, and then added, "you two do engage in sexual relations? I did hear that you are now married to one another. Congratulations."

"Yes," I said. I could feel my neck and ears burn as I blushed with embarrassment. "We do."

"Do what?" Picardo asked with a slight smirk. "Engage in sexual relations?"

"That's what I meant, yes," I replied brusquely, and then asked sarcastically, "How's Cashmere's whatever-you-call-it? Libido?"

"Exhausting," Picardo shot back. He grinned. "You forget, young Victor. I'm from the Capitol. We don't embarrass easily."

"I'll remember that," I muttered. "And to answer your question, Katniss's 'libido' seems fine to me."

"Define 'fine,'" Picardo said. "Has her sexual appetite diminished, stayed the same, or increased over the last few weeks?"

I thought for a moment. "Increased."

"In frequency, duration, or enthusiasm?" Picardo pressed on.

Aside from this morning, Katniss and I had been enjoying early-morning lovemaking every morning for over a week. Sometimes very early – Katniss still liked to get in morning hunts regularly. "We've been doing it a lot more lately," I admitted, and then added, "Katniss has always been enthusiastic. As far as the other, well, I don't exactly look at the clock when we start and finish."

Picardo nodded thoughtfully. "I see." He sat up and leaned forward. "I would like to see her."

I glanced at him in alarm. "Do you think something's wrong?"

Picardo chuckled and patted my shoulder. "Not at all. I simply would like to perform a simple test on her. Nothing serious, but I would like to confirm my suspicions."

"Suspicions about what?" I demanded. "You said you didn't think it was serious!"

"That's correct," he said, his voice low and soothing. "But, if my test is negative, then we'll have to explore some other possibility, such as a food allergy. Has she eaten any of the native plants?"

"I think so," I replied after thinking about it for a moment. "Katniss is very skilled at finding edible wild plants."

"Well, then," Picardo continued, "if this test is negative, then we'll look at allergies. Now, can she come in tomorrow?"

"She doesn't know I'm here," I admitted, somewhat sheepishly.

"Oh?" Picardo's eyebrows went up when he heard my admission. "And what did you expect from me, young Victor? I can't very well accurately diagnose a patient without actually seeing that patient, now, can I?"

I shook my head. "I guess not."

Picardo stood. "Very well, then. Bring her in tomorrow – or today, for that matter." I stood and he put one arm around my shoulders as he guided me to the door. "After all," he said with a wave of his hand at the empty clinic, "it seems that I have a free schedule."

I paused at the door. "I'll try," I said.

"Do more than try," Picardo said firmly. "If I don't see her tomorrow, I will pay you both a visit to your new rustic cottage the day after."

PART III

As I expected, Katniss was not pleased that I had gone to see Picardo on her behalf, but, surprisingly, she agreed to see him the next morning. I had waited until we had returned home from our excursion into the Triad settlement before springing my admission on her. Like I said, she was not pleased that I had gone, but didn't seem to really stay angry with me. I did notice, however, when we went to bed that night, that all I received from her was a muttered "Good night, Peeta" and a very perfunctory kiss. It could have been worse. I could have found myself sleeping on the couch.

Katniss was subdued during our walk back into town the next morning. I found myself hoping that we would run into the refugee family from District Eight again, but today found everyone back to their usual routines. I tried to engage Katniss in conversation, but all I was able to pry from her were curt one- and two-word responses. The last half of our walk was conducted in an awkward silence.

We arrived at the clinic around mid-morning. "This is it," I announced unnecessarily.

"I can see that, Peeta," Katniss replied peevishly. "This is a waste of time. I could have been hunting this morning."

I paused, my hand on the knob of the clinic door. "Katniss," I replied somberly. "I'm worried about you. You got sick again this morning. I can't just ignore that!"

"Fine," she muttered. "Let's get this over with."

With that, I pushed the door open. I was relieved that Cashmere was nowhere around. The soft tinkling of the bell over the door announced our arrival. Katniss glanced around the empty outer office. "Nobody's here," she said. "Can we go now?"

"Not so fast," Picardo's voice called out. He emerged through the same door that he had come through the day before. "Well!" he said with a grin. "You took my warning to heart, young Victor." He turned his attention to Katniss. "Your husband tells me that you experienced a bout of unexplained vomiting yesterday." He made a "come on" gesture with one hand. "Come on back, young lady. I have a few questions that I'd like to ask, and a simple test to perform. Tell me, do you need to urinate?"

"What?" Katniss blurted. "You mean pee?"

"That's exactly what I mean," Picardo confirmed. "If you like, I can give you some water, or tea if you prefer, if you don't feel the immediate urge to –"

"Let's get this over with," Katniss grumbled as she moved towards the door. I moved to follow her, but Picardo stopped me with a raised hand.

"Doctor-patient confidentiality," he said firmly. "If your bride wishes to share with you later, that's her privilege. However, if you would feel more comfortable with another female present, we can wait until Cashmere returns from freight station. She should be back at any time."

"It's okay," Katniss said impatiently. To me, she added, "I'll be fine, Peeta. Really."

"After you, my dear," Picardo said with a grand sweep of his hand. And, before I could say anything, he shut the door firmly behind him.

I sighed, glanced around the outer office, and found a chair. All I could do now was sit and wait.

Katniss was only gone for fifteen or twenty minutes at the most. It felt like forever.

Cashmere returned to the clinic sometime between the time that Katniss went with Picardo into the examination room and when she finally emerged. I was fully expecting her to begin her usual sarcastic banter with me as soon as she saw me. What I got instead was a polite smile and a few minutes of inconsequential small talk. I had a sneaking suspicion that Picardo had talked to her about toning down her usual snarky demeanor if Katniss and I were to show up at the clinic. Or maybe she picked up on the fact that I was in no mood for bullshit. Whatever the reason, it didn't matter, if she left me alone.

Fortunately, I didn't have long to wait. Cashmere had busied herself with putting away the supplies that she had picked up from the freight station when Katniss emerged from the examination room. I tried to pick up something from her demeanor, but she was wearing a familiar inscrutable expression that I always thought of as her "Katniss face." What she couldn't hide from me was how tense she was.

I tried to lighten her mood. "How did it go?" I asked, my voice cheery.

Katniss shrugged. "He asked me some questions. Had me pee in a cup. Then he sent me out here to wait."

"What kind of questions?" I asked.

Another shrug. "How I'm sleeping, how long I've been puking in the morning, stuff like that."

I wanted to press Katniss for more information – I was almost positive some of the questions that Picardo had asked her dealt with our sex life – but decided to wait when Picardo entered the room. He was carrying a slender manila folder with Katniss's name neatly inscribed across the tab. Wordlessly, he came around to where Katniss and I sat. I could feel Katniss tense even more as Picardo glanced one last time at the contents of the folder before he tossed it onto the desk behind him, crossed his arms over his chest, and finally spoke.

"Usually," he began slowly, "when young couples such as yourselves come to their physician, where the female is complaining of unexplained nausea, loss of appetite, and mysterious changes in libido, they normally have a fairly decent idea of what may cause such symptoms." He paused and gazed at us thoughtfully. "My years of being posted in District Twelve should have prepared me for your rather rustic, albeit charming, naïveté." He sighed. "Alas, my focus there was on ensuring that there were enough reasonably healthy coal miners available to maintain production quotas, and not on seeing to the well-being of newlyweds."

"Doctor," I said impatiently, "will you please get to the point? Do you know what's wrong with Katniss or not?"

Picardo smiled mysteriously. "Wrong? Why, young Victor, there is nothing at all 'wrong' with your bride. Nothing at all."

I felt as if a huge weight was lifted from my shoulders. Still – "What about Katniss's vomiting?"

"Oh, I expect that to continue," Picardo replied. "For how long – well, that's difficult to say."

I stared at Picardo in disbelief. "But you just said there's nothing wrong with her!"

"And there isn't," Picardo said. He turned his attention to Katniss. "My dear, unlike your husband, I suspect that you may have some idea of what is causing your symptoms."

Katniss lowered her eyes and nodded, once. "I'm sorry if it seemed that I was making light of your situation," Picardo said sincerely when he saw Katniss's reaction to his statement. "If I had known it would cause you such distress, I would have –"

"It's okay," Katniss said softly. She raised her head and looked at me. "I didn't want to say anything before, Peeta. I…I wasn't sure, you know?" She paused to awkwardly wipe her nose and eyes with her shirt sleeve. "I just don't know how I should be feeling right now."

Katniss looked to be on the verge of tears. "Feeling about what?" I asked gently. "It's okay, Katniss. You know I love you. You know I'm here for you."

Katniss squeezed her eyes shut and let out a choked sob as a tear trickled out from each eye. And, as I took her in my arms, she buried her face in my shoulder and said two words that would end up changing my life forever.

"I'm pregnant."

PART IV

I've known Josephus Picardo since the Reaping Day Uprising. He could be insufferably arrogant, smarmily condescending, and, if the mood struck him, he could positively drip Capitol attitude. He was also extraordinarily dedicated and capable of displaying great compassion. Today, I was witness to him display both sides of his complex personality – and all in the space of less than five minutes.

Following Katniss's bombshell revelation, she did something that I've never seen her do – she melted into a complete, emotional, sobbing mass of misery. I admit, I was no help. Discovering, at age twenty, that I was going to be a father before my twenty-first birthday was news that I was still struggling to digest. Fortunately for Katniss – and for me – Picardo was able to shift into "compassionate doctor" mode almost instantly.

He dropped to one knee next to a sobbing Katniss and wrapped one arm firmly around her shoulders. All I could was sit helplessly and watch as Picardo comforted my wife. Even so, there was only so much that he could do, and he knew it. After casting a cursory glance in my direction, he turned and called out a single word.

"Cashmere!"

Cashmere appeared a moment later, a questioning look on her face. "Katniss is pregnant," Picardo announced simply. "Could you –"

"Of course, Josephus." Cashmere hurried over and all but elbowed Picardo out of the way, all the while talking to Katniss in a low, calming voice. I half expected Katniss to resist – after all, Cashmere was not one of Katniss's favorite people – but she allowed Cashmere to lead her back into the examination room. Until that moment, I had never known that Cashmere could be so – matronly. And all I could do was sit and watch helplessly.

Picardo waited until Cashmere closed the door before he turned towards me. "Let's step outside and get some air," he said as he rose to his feet. He grasped my arm and pulled firmly when I didn't immediately move. I got the hint. Slowly, unsteadily, I stood, and followed Picardo out into the bright morning sun.

Picardo waited until we were outside before he spoke. "Young Victor," he said slowly, "I've always considered you to be an intelligent young man. That being said, I can safely say that I have never encountered such a profound ignorance of how human reproduction works. It's obvious that sex education was not part of the District Twelve high school curriculum, but you had to have seen pregnancy at some time in your life. Am I correct?"

"Not up close," I reluctantly admitted. "I was the youngest of three boys in my family. My mother – she was done having kids after me. I just didn't know."

"I see," Picardo said thoughtfully. After a moment, he added, "I assume that Katniss's pregnancy was a surprise to you?"

I nodded. "She was getting some sort of shot to keep her from getting pregnant."

"I took the liberty of obtaining her medical records from the Capitol after we spoke yesterday," Picardo said. "She was taking regular doses of medroxyprogesterone to prevent pregnancy while you were living in the Capitol, but it appears that her last injection was over five months ago." He paused for a moment. "This medication must be repeated every thirteen weeks to be effective. Were you using any other method of birth control?"

I shook my head. "No. I didn't think we needed to. I didn't know how often Katniss had to get her shots." I looked at Picardo miserably. "I don't know what to do," I admitted, my voice a near whisper. "I don't know how to be a father."

"Did you and Katniss ever discuss having children?" Picardo asked.

"Not seriously," I replied. "Katniss…she wanted to wait."

"And what did you want, young Victor?" Picardo asked gently.

"I was okay with waiting," I said. "Like I said before, I don't know how to be a father. After today, I'm not even sure I'm a good husband."

"Why?" Gone was the gentle tone as Picardo practically barked the question. "Because you were shocked by Katniss's announcement? You, young Victor, are an excellent husband. You came to me against your wife's wishes because you were concerned about her health. It's obvious that you love her. Now, you need to step up and be the husband that she deserves."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked sharply.

Picardo sighed in exasperation. "Dote on her. Anticipate her needs. Katniss is a fiercely independent young woman, but she will need to depend on you in the next few months more than she's ever had to depend on anyone in her entire life."

"You don't know Katniss the way I do," I muttered with a shake of my head. "She doesn't know how to be dependent on anyone."

"She'll learn," Picardo said firmly. "She may hate it, but she'll learn."

I lowered my head and stared at the ground at my feet. "I'm not ready for this. She's not ready for this."

I felt Picardo's hand on my shoulder. "There are options available, if you and Katniss truly feel that you can't handle the responsibility of parenthood," he pointed out, his voice gentle once more. His grip tightened on my shoulder. "Katniss and Cashmere just came out. Go to her. She needs you."

I raised my head. Katniss, her face blotchy and tear-streaked, was walking towards us slowly, with Cashmere's arm draped protectively around her shoulders. I pulled free from Picardo's grip and straightened up. At the same time, Katniss shrugged off Cashmere's arm, wiped her eyes with the heel of her hand, and walked the last few steps to where I stood with Picardo. She stopped directly in front of me and looked at me with an expression that was both defiant and pleading. I didn't say anything at first. I simply reached down and took her hand in mine.

Katniss spoke first. "We need to talk."

I nodded and tugged on her hand. "Come on."

I led her to a vacant area behind the clinic, out of sight and earshot from both Cashmere and Picardo. Again, Katniss spoke first. "I'm sorry."

"No," I said. "Don't be sorry. You've done nothing wrong."

Katniss turned away from me. "I suspected. I've felt…not right…for a couple of weeks. I was afraid that I was…I was…you know."

"Pregnant," I said softly.

She nodded. "And I didn't tell you." She sniffed loudly and dragged her arm across her eyes again. Katniss had never been very good at crying.

"It's all right," I said, hoping to sound reassuring.

Katniss shook her head. "No, Peeta. It's not. I kept it from you." She laughed bitterly. "As if I could hide it from you forever. I guess I just hoped that it would somehow go away."

"What do you want to do?" I asked.

Another bitter laugh. "As if I have a choice."

"You do." Katniss glanced at me, a skeptical look on her face. "Picardo told me there are 'options available,' if we want them," I explained.

"Cashmere said the same thing," Katniss said softly.

"Then you do have a choice," I murmured.

Her gaze softened a bit. "What do you want, Peeta?"

"Katniss," I replied softly, "I admit I'm scared. I don't think I'm ready. But I want you to know that I support you no matter what. After all we've been through – after all you've been through – what I want is to see you happy."

"What if I say I don't want to keep the baby?" Katniss asked, her voice trembling just a bit.

"Then I will support you completely," I said without hesitation.

Katniss glanced down. "And if I say I want to keep the baby?"

I took a deep breath. "I will still support you. No matter what."

Katniss slid her arms around me and rested her head on my chest. "What kind of mother would I be?" she murmured. "I have nightmares. I don't know the first thing about taking care of a baby. And don't get me started on my mood swings."

I buried my face in her hair and inhaled deeply. Her hair always carried the scent of the forest that she loved so much. "I can tell you one thing," I replied confidently. "I think you would make a fantastic mother."

"Why?" Katniss's voice trembled ever so slightly as she asked the plaintive, one-word question.

"When your father was killed, you ended up caring not only for Prim, but for your mother as well," I pointed out. "You were eleven, then, remember, and you had nothing." I pulled back from her slightly and tilted her head up so I could look at her eye-to-eye. "I stand by what I said earlier. No matter what you decide, I will support you. And I will always love you."

Katniss touched my cheek softly with her fingertips. "Let's go home," she said simply.

Our walk took us past the clinic. Picardo and Cashmere were still outside. "We're going home now," I announced as we approached them. "Thank you for everything."

"You've made a decision?" Picardo asked.

I shook my head. "No."

"Young Victor," Picardo continued, "you and Katniss must not wait –"

"Josephus," Cashmere said firmly, neatly cutting Picardo off in mid-sentence, "leave them be. They need time alone, and another few days won't make much difference one way or another."

My opinion of Cashmere rose considerably after that.

PART V

As I expected, Katniss was quiet and kept mostly to herself for the rest of the day. She did go out into the forest for a few hours shortly after we returned home, returning in mid-afternoon with a plump rabbit that she had managed to bag for dinner. While she was gone, I toyed with the idea of going back into town to check on the progress of construction on my bakery, but at that moment I couldn't keep my mind focused on anything other than Katniss's pregnancy. I admit that I had conflicting feelings about the thought of parenthood. Part of me was thrilled at the idea of being a father. The other part, however, was terrified at the prospect. Katniss wasn't the only one that suffered from nightmares. How would an infant react if it was the child being awakened in the middle of the night by the cries and screams of the parent, rather than the parent awakened by the child? And I, like Katniss, didn't know the first thing about caring for an infant. I didn't even know how to change a dirty diaper.

I didn't voice my concerns to Katniss after she came back with her rabbit. Instead, I helped her skin and clean it for our dinner. While we worked in the kitchen, we made inconsequential small talk, with both of us avoiding any discussion about our visit to the clinic earlier in the day. Fortunately, I was able to share a message that I had received on my PADD from Madge Undersee. She was due to arrive in the Triad in two days, on the regularly scheduled run from the Capitol, and she hinted that she was bringing a surprise with her. This was welcome news for both of us, and it confirmed what Delly had told us the day before. We hadn't seen Madge in well over a year – the last we had heard of her was during the first phase of Reconstruction, when she had travelled to different districts as part of a team put together to provide immediate relief to areas hit hardest by the war. And, more importantly, it gave us a distraction from the news of Katniss's unexpected pregnancy.

Of course, Katniss's "delicate condition," as my mother would have called it, was never far from our minds. At some point, very soon, we would have to seriously talk about it – and, more importantly, what our decision would ultimately be. For now, though, we steadfastly ignored it. We didn't talk about it during dinner, we didn't discuss it as we cleaned up, and we avoided it afterwards. I did notice, however, that Katniss seemed to have a good appetite during dinner.

It was a beautiful evening. When the weather was like this we both enjoyed sitting outside, looking up at the night sky and listening to the sounds of the forest. We didn't speak for a long time. We were just content to sit, with Katniss curled up next to me, her head on my shoulder. There was no moon tonight, and the stars seemed to blaze even brighter than normal. We listened to the crickets' chirp, to frogs croaking in a pond a short distance behind our house, and the far-off howl of a coyote.

Katniss finally broke the silence. "I got a message from Prim earlier."

"And how's your sister?" I asked, keeping my voice light.

"The university is on break between semesters," Katniss replied. "She's coming out to see us for a couple of weeks. She'll be coming on the same train as Madge."

"That's fantastic!" I said. I know how much Katniss had missed her sister. But, there was the issue of Katniss's pregnancy. "What did you tell her?" I asked cautiously.

"That we are happy and excited to see her," Katniss replied, and then added, "that's all."

"So," I said slowly, "nothing about –"

"No," Katniss said curtly.

Another few minutes of silence, again broken by Katniss. "Peeta, did you really mean what you said earlier? About supporting me whatever I decided?"

"Of course I did," I assured her softly. Inwardly, I could feel my heart pound. I knew she had decided.

"Do you think Prim will support me too?" she asked softly.

"She always has," I pointed out.

"In that case," Katniss murmured, "how do you think Prim will feel about the news that she is going to be an aunt?"

For several long seconds, I was speechless. When I did finally speak, it was one word. "Wow."

I felt Katniss shift on the seat as she turned to face me. I could just make out her face in the darkness. "Are you scared?" she whispered.

"Terrified," I admitted.

"Me too," Katniss said, before she leaned forward and kissed me gently. As we kissed, I could feel the warmth of her tears on my cheeks. I had just one thought going through my mind at that moment.

I'm going to be a father.