Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games, I am not Suzanne Collins.
A/N: You know, it's so hard to imagine what happened between the end of Mockingjay and the Epilogue. I wonder what happened the her mother, what happened to Gale, what goes through her head that makes the idea of having a baby so frightening to her. I do my best with trying to capture Katniss' character. I don't think I do it justice though. But, anyway, enjoy this! Summer is here and I'm currently re-reading the Hunger Games trilogy yet again!
Chapter Seven.
I wake up one Sunday morning in Peeta's arms. He's wide awake just staring at the ceiling. I attempt to roll over to face him but it's a straining effort with a planet attached to my abdomen and his arms holding me tightly to his body. He loosens his grip and once I'm facing him, holds me tightly again.
"Good morning." I whisper and kiss his lips. He smiles when I pull away and I have a hopeful feeling that today isn't going to be one of those days where I have to drag myself through it, telling myself that having a baby with Peeta is not going to be the end of the world. I can tell that today is going to be spent just like this, together with Peeta in the nice warmth of our bed. He doesn't have to open the bakery today since the snowstorm that hit last night has left everything inaccessible.
"What do you want to do all day?" Peeta asks me while his fingers stroke the side of my stomach. The touch sends chills throughout my body and I place my hand above his to stop.
"I don't want to do anything. I just want to lay here with you all day." I say, and it's honest. I can't think of anything I would rather do. He smiles and nods in agreement. I think back to years ago where I probably would have been up hours ago and would have already met Gale in the woods to go hunting. I shake the thought and look at Peeta, his smile helps to put aside my memories for now.
Eventually Peeta persuades me to get out of bed so that we can eat something; he also figures we should bring something to Haymitch. I try to help Peeta with baking bread, but I start to eat more of the raw dough than is actually being cooked.
Peeta laughs when he sees why there seems to be no dough. "Sweetie, why don't you just sit and I'll take care of this." It's more of a statement than a question. I agree and sit down at the table in the kitchen. I see Gale's bloody body on the table and shake the thoughts out of my head quickly.
It's ridiculous how much I think about my old life sometimes. I keep reminding myself what Peeta always tells me "We have each other. We just have to keep working at it, together."
I rub my stomach for a moment. It'll be difficult to explain to this child why their parents struggle so much just to get through the day. If it was up to me, he or she would never be exposed to what happened in the past, but it is our history now; and I can't pretend that they won't learn about it either from school or just from around the district.
Peeta sees the concentrated look as soon as he puts the last pan in the oven to cook. He wipes his hands on a towel as he walks over to the seat next to me. He takes the hand that's resting against my stomach and kisses my forehead. That simple gesture is enough to bring me back to the present with him, even if it's just for a short moment.
"I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever." His words echo in my head and I smile at him. We've both come a long way from then, but that's one moment that I always go back to, to help me remember that Peeta is not going anywhere. He's mine to keep now.
I lean in close to his face, barely brushing his lips. He closes the distance and kisses me passionately. He causes my heart to beat faster and I lose control of how to breathe properly. When I pull away, I plant a soft kiss on his lip and then just lean against him.
There's a ringing noise that causes me to pull away. I look around the kitchen to find nothing. By the time I figure out that the ringing is coming from the study, Peeta is already at the door, reaching for the phone.
"Hello." He answers the phone in a confused tone. We both have no idea as to who would be calling us.
"Oh, hi…what can I help you with?" His voice rises to suspicion and I know that he can feel me staring at him from my seat just down the hall. He walks out of my view to insure my thoughts are correct. "I don't know if that's such a good idea." It's harder to hear what he's saying after he moves out of view. I get up from my chair and walk silently down the hallway, stopping a few inches from the door.
"Whatever you need to tell her, you can tell me just as well." He sounds frustrated. The person on the phone is obviously asking for me and I start to panic a little. I hate that phone; the only people who ever call on it are from the Capitol, old friends who just bring terrible memories with them now.
"Peeta, who's on the phone?" I ask walking into view. He doesn't move. I see his expression on his face looks almost shocked. He stares at the floor while I approach him ready to snatch the phone from his hands. He pulls the phone away when I make the attempt.
"Oh…thank you for letting us know." He says and I hate being so confused not knowing what was being said on the other end of the conversation.
"Who was on the phone?" I demand as he hangs it up.
"It was nobody of importance… just some reporters." If I hadn't known Peeta for so long, and if I wasn't eavesdropping, I would have bought that lie. However, I know that he's not telling the truth (adding in the fact that I heard him talking to a person who obviously wanted to talk to me).
"Don't lie to me, Peeta." I request gently. He reaches out to touch my face and simply kisses my lips.
"I'll tell you later. I promise." There's a distinct smell in the air that something is almost burning. I can smell the smoke down the hall and Peeta hurries into the kitchen, past me without another word.
I don't like the idea of secrets between Peeta and me, it causes me to become even more alarmed and I feel sweat on my palms. I walk slowly back into the kitchen because the stress is causing the person inside me to practically kick its way free. I'm trying to calm down for its sake but a memory of Peeta when he was captured by the Capitol continues to play in my head. I see his blood hit the screen and fade to static at least a hundred times in the short time it takes me to reach the kitchen.
He already has everything out of the oven when he looks up. His expression is sympathetic and I finally have to stop this. "Peeta, you have to tell me what's going on. I'm turning into a nervous wreck!" It's true, maybe it's the hormones, but something tells me it's just our history of trouble that makes me become this nervous about a simple phone call.
He sighs. He probably knows I'm not going to calm down, no matter what he says to me.
"I think I should sit you down for this though." I don't hesitate; I take the nearest seat at the table. He sits next to me and takes one of my hands.
"I don't know how to say this all, so I'm just going to explain everything. Don't interrupt me until I can finish please." I nod in agreement and he continues. "I picked up the phone and immediately recognized the voice, though he did introduce himself after. It was Gale." He pauses to see my reaction. Surprisingly the most reaction I have is a twitch of my eyebrow. What could he have wanted?
"I asked him what he wanted and he told me it had to do with you, and that he should really only tell this to you. I told him that wasn't a good idea, I didn't know how you'd react and I really don't think you need any more stress." He brushes against my stomach and I cringe at the thought that a child is inside me, so much for my hopeful feelings this morning.
"He wasn't happy with that, he persisted that I give the phone to you. Finally I told him that I was your husband and that anything that needed to be said to you, could just as well be said to me. I don't know what happened but he finally agreed to tell me." He lets out a breath, taking in my expression, what I'm probably thinking.
Honestly, I don't even know what I'm thinking at this point. The thought that Gale is calling my house is so confusing and I'm doing just about anything to try and piece together what he could possibly want to tell me that was so important that Peeta couldn't hear. I can't let the thought of Gale stay in my mind for too long because my mind is suddenly bombarded with memories of hunting trips, the whipping, training in District 13, him being hauled away by Peacekeepers, and then Prim being blown to bits by his plan.
I force the thoughts away and focus back on Peeta. He provides a stability that brings me out these horror filled images. "Katniss, I don't really know how to say this. I don't know if it's going to be hard for you to take in. But I'm just going to say it… your mother died last night."
I hear the words ring in my head. I start to search for a reaction, a tweak of sadness, something to tell me that I still have feelings for my mother. Yet, nothing surfaces.
She left me when she never returned to District 12, now there was no hope of her ever returning. For some strange reason I'm okay with that, I guess I had already considered her dead to me when she left.