A/N: edited 25/12/14

Merry Christmas. See what I do for you guys?!

Chapter 7: Discovery

Katniss

It's been two weeks since… since… and Peeta has remained in the dark about what happened between us, and greets me with a cheerful smile every day while every day I'm just waiting for the moment when everything comes crashing down. He has to remember. I certainly won't forget it.

I feel like the worst person in the world. Peeta chats to me none the wise about anything and everything; mostly about the bakery and about his Dad and brothers. Few words are spoken of his mother though, and when he does speak of her, he takes a reserved expression and a hushed voice. I think he still loves his mother, but what type of love he could hold for that bitch of a woman, I do not know. On the surface it might look like I'm listening, but on the inside I feel like I'm going to be sick. Never in my life have I been conflicted.

For the past week, Peeta has been satisfied with my one-word responses to his questions, and during the lessons where Effie forces us to dance while Haymitch chuckles haughtily from the corner, I have to force myself not to squirm under his touch. My skin feels like it's on fire when he touches me, as if his hands are burning through the material of my thickest jumper, through my shirt and burning away at my waist until it reaches my soul. Bewilderment shoots through me when I begin to feel something different. My mind plays back images of my night at the bakery. His eyes. His skin. Him. A fire begins to burn deep inside me.

Yesterday, in Gym, I couldn't help but admire the youngest Mellark as he swung the bat to hit the foam ball that was flying his way. His shirt, a pass-me-down from his brothers, was a tad on the small size, and as it rode up revealing the 'v' shape leading… well... down… I couldn't help but blush.

Fighting against myself is time-consuming and upsetting. I feel conflicted. My body wants one thing, while my mind is consuming the thoughts of desire and turning them into flashes of my interactions in the past with Peeta. Sometimes I find myself wondering what it would be like if Peeta knew the truth. How would he react? I feel that we've begun to build a friendship and I don't want to ruin my chances. If I told Peeta, it could go two ways.

One option is that Peeta would be disgusted, and would either spread rumours about me or disregard me completely. It would make the whole situation between us very awkward, not to mention I would be embarrassed. The other option (the one that I think would most likely happen) is that it would just cause our relationship to change completely. I doubt Peeta would be horrible about it; he's too much of a good guy.

The voice at the back of my head is urging me to get it all off my shoulders and confess, but I argue back, saying that I shouldn't make a fuss over nothing. I cut away the hope blossoming my chest like a rosebud in spring.

At breakfast, Prim noticed my stony silence and questioned me, wanting to know what was wrong and why I was looking troubled. I had shaken her concerns off with a shrug and a quick reply of: 'Nothing, Little Duck. I'm just thinking.' Prim obviously wasn't satisfied with my answer but said nothing else. She continued to study me over her bowl of porridge however, her blue eyes watching for anything that would give how I was feeling away. But she would've never guess my thoughts. She wouldn't understand my frustration.

I'm sitting in Haymitch's class with Madge. The girls and boys have been split up. The boys have been taken somewhere with Effie, and us girls have the pleasure of being taught by a drunken Haymitch Abernathy. The plan is that we'll swap at recess, and then come together again for the last lesson of the day for another dancing lesson, or as Effie likes to call it, 'Life Skills Lessons'.

"Katniss?" Madge ask. I shake my head slightly, feeling dazed, and see my blonde friend waiting expectantly.

"Huh?"

"Haymitch," she says, pointing to the gruff man standing at the chalkboard.

"Oh, sorry," I say, blinking rapidly. "What was the question?"

"When you're ready, the question, sweetheart," Haymitch says, his blotchy eyes narrowed. "Was: How long is a woman typically pregnant for?"

"Nine months."

"Pay attention, please." Haymitch continues to talk, droning on about babies and how much it takes to look after them. I try and pay attention, ignoring the niggling sense of guilt mixed with confusion, a dollop of fear thrown in for good measure.

"I can't believe Haymitch is giving us lessons on contraception," Madge grimaces, looking away when Haymitch begins to draw on the chalkboard. This is enough to put everyone off sex for the rest of their lives. Perhaps that's the idea.

"I know."

"I mean, come on!" Madge says, her eyes wide. "What the hell is that?" I look up at the board, but quickly glance away as Haymitch describes his drawing. The entire class edges backwards in their seat, looks ranging from amusement to horrified on their faces.

"Let's talk sex," Haymitch begins, and the entire class recoils. "I think a good question to ask is, have any of you had sex recently?" Haymitch asks the group of girls sitting in front of him. He bursts out laughing. "I'm kidding!" He cackles. A few pupils nervously chuckle along with him. Haymitch rolls his eyes. "Because, if you have, did you know that you could be pregnant?"

I freeze.

"There are forms of contraception on sale in this District, but it's very expensive. So, I would advise you to not to anything unless you realise what you could be getting yourself into," he trails off for a moment, seemingly lost in his own head, before he resurfaces and faces the class. "Children cost a lot, take up time, and should only be in the hands of people responsible enough to support them."

My eyes widen.

No. No, it can't be possible.

"Hey, Katniss, are feeling alright?" Madge asks me, placing a hand on my arm.

"I don't feel well." I whisper. Madge frowns.

"It takes two to tango. Don't make mistakes," Haymitch says finally. The bell rings and everyone runs for the door. I stand, my legs wobbling.

"You've gone as white as a sheet."

"I need to go home." I say, feeling the blood steadily drain from my face.

"I'll take you to the nurse."

"Please don't."

"Katniss I think-"

"Madge," I say, clutching my stomach. I push past my concerned friend and outside. I lean against the school building, breathing in as much air as I can and trying not to have a panic attack right here in front of everyone.

I could be pregnant. With Peeta's child.

And he doesn't even know that he's had sex with me.

"Madge said you weren't feeling well," I look up at the voice. Peeta walks down the school steps and towards me, a guilty Madge trailing behind. "You alright?"

"I just feel sick, that's all," I say, avoiding his gaze. He walks closer and puts a hand on my shoulder. This time I can't control myself and I flinch and almost fall in my haste to get away. Peeta pulls back, hurt replacing his concern.

"When did you last eat?" Madge asks me.

"Err… last night." I say, suddenly feeling light-headed. Everyone needs to get the hell away from me.

"I've got food in my bag," Peeta says. "You can have it."

His kindness kills me.

"I think I ate something bad," I gasp out. I shake my head. I might not even be pregnant. Malnutrition causes my menstrual cycle to stop all the time. I'm simply too weak. My body needs the energy for more important things. But hunting has been successful lately. The summer wasn't as stifling as it was last year, and we managed to eat something that would fill our stomachs even a little bit every single day.

And now that it's autumn, the hauls I bring in are so big that I have to walk all over District 12 to be able store the rest at home. We've been eating better than some of the Merchants when it comes to fresh meat, so there is still a possibility that I'm with child. I look up at unaware Peeta. He smiles at me, but he's unable to hide the concern in his eyes.

"Tell Effie I've gone home sick," I say, pushing myself upright and hurrying away.

Peeta follows me. "Katniss!"

"Please, Peeta. I don't need anything else from you," I say, holding out a hand to stop him. "Just leave me alone, please."

"But Katniss!" Peeta says. I turn and flee before I can hear what he has to say, leaving Peeta behind with the face of a kicked puppy.

My feet pound against the dry dusty ground as I race back home. Thankfully, Mom isn't anywhere to be found. I screech through the front door, fling my bag at the wall, and run into the kitchen. The wooden dresser pushed against the wall normally has Mom's medicinal bag sitting on the top, but it's gone. I steady my breathing. I need to find Mom's medical book. It contains information that right now, I need.

"Where are, you where are you?" I whisper to myself, rummaging through the drawers. They're mostly empty and useless. I run a hand over my face and suddenly have an idea. The apothecary. If I went to the apothecary, I could trade with the owner and buy a test. But what can I trade? All the animals that I've caught have been stored away. Tampering with them could make them go bad. I run into the bedroom I share with Prim and Mom and pull the jar hidden under my bed.

Our emergency money jar. This money is only to be used in the worst possible situations. It's been used twice before. In the bitter months after Dad died, and about two years ago when we were practically walking skeletons, the winter was so cruel. We put all the spare change we have into this jar. I intend to use it for Prim so she can have what she needs. I yank the lid off and tip the jar upside down, emptying the array of dull coins onto the bed. Frantically counting them, I total up the coins.

I have just enough to buy one single test.

Just enough.

How will I explain to Mom and Prim when they find that the money is gone? I guess I'll have to worry about that later. Right now, I need to confirm what I'm dreading. I tip the coins into a small pouch and stand in front of my father's dusty old shaving mirror. My eyes find their way down, and I place a hand on my stomach. I can't be pregnant at sixteen. I just can't. It's well known in District 12 that you don't produce another mouth to feed unless your family can feed itself. And now I've done the exact opposite.

I adjust my jacket and hold my head high as I walk back through the Seam and down the winding back streets of the Merchant part of town. I feel like all eyes on me as I creep along to the front door of the apothecary. I've only been here once before when Dad took me here to get an expensive medicine for Mom when she was pregnant with Prim. Our visit didn't go smoothly. Mom's parents- my Grandfather and Grandmother, own the apothecary and didn't and never have agreed with their daughter's decision to marry someone from the Seam.

Grandfather and Grandmother died a few years ago and left their shop to an aging Merchant. I have no idea why they didn't leave it to a nephew or niece and keep in the family but their reasons for not passing it down to their only child were crystal clear.

I peer around the street; checking for prying eyes, before pushing open the door of the apothecary. The bell hanging above the door tinkles cheerfully as I enter the shop, but it causes me to wince, the sound seeming louder than it should.

"Good afternoon," the owner greets me, looking up from the desk to the left of the door through half-moon spectacles.

"Hello." I half-whisper, barely lifting my head.

"Shouldn't you be at school?"

"I felt ill. They said I could leave," I say quickly, darting behind a shelf before she can respond. Scouring the shelves for a pregnancy test, I run my finger over the price tags and tubes and tubs. "Burn ointment; medicinal alcohol; beauty powder," I read out, unable to keep the wobble out of my voice. With shaking hands, I pick out a small, rectangular box. The words 'Capitol-Approved Pregnancy Test' stand out in thick dark blue letters against the white box. The Capitol symbol is printed beside the words. It looks too formal - too clinical. Not at all something that would normally bring joy to a person's life.

I clutch the cardboard box tightly in my fist, willing myself to keep a straight face as I stop at the end of the shop. There are three aisles in the building. The one I'm standing at is directly in front of the shop owner's desk. She puts down the book she was reading and waits, raising her eyebrows.

"Are you buying something?" she questions, her gaze fixed on the box in my hand. I take a deep breath. I can do this. I have to do this. Sure, I could wait for a few months, and see if my stomach swelled. But by then it could be too late. At least by doing this, I will know for sure. I will be able to plan for longer. I will be able to save Peeta from the burden of having a bastard child with someone like me.

"Miss?" the lady asks again. I look up at her and step forward. The trip to the counter seems like the longest journey I've ever, but eventually I get there and place the box down.

"Can you please… not tell anyone about this?" I ask her. She frowns. "Please. Just… keep it to yourself. I don't want to cause any unnecessary drama if… if I am." I place the box onto the table and look up.

"That'll be twenty three silvers."

"So you'll say nothing?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replies, her lips turning up in a small, sympathetic smile. Her blue eyes are cold though, showing her Merchant side, her distaste for Seam people.

"Thank you," I whisper, pulling out the pouch and placing it in her waiting palm. Silence fills the room as she counts the coins and locks them into the cash register. I nod in thanks and take the test, slipping it into the pocket of my jacket. The walk out of the shop is tense. I can feel the apothecary's eyes on me the entire way, and can't shake the feeling away, even when I'm hotfooting it down the cobbled street and onto the dusty trail of the Seam.

Once home, I lock myself in the bathroom and unpack the box. Inside is a plastic stick with a folded-up piece of paper. Instructions. I scan through the printed text, searching through the paragraphs that waffle on about Capitol Industries until I reach the two steps that will tell me whether I'm pregnant or not.

All I have to do is pee on the stick and wait for three minutes.

Is that it?

I do my business and place the stick on the edge of the sink, watching it intently as I perch unsteadily on the toilet seat. My knees bounce with fear as I wait, counting down the longest three minutes of my life. I can see the cherry wood clock sitting on the mantelpiece ticking away. The more I stare at it, the slower the hands move but finally, the three minutes are up.

I pick up the stick and look down, my knuckles gripping the plastic so hard my knuckles are white. Taking a deep breath, my eyes travel up the stick and onto the small grey screen. A small pink plus sign stares back up at me, confirming everything I expected. I slump against the wall. My life is over. I'm not about to let the same thing happen to Peeta.

Peeta

I chew at the skin on my finger.

"She's never gone home before because she wasn't feeling well," Madge tells me, her blue eyes wide as she walks with Mitch and I down the hallway to my next lesson. "And she wasn't ill before Haymitch's lesson."

"She flinched away from me when I put my hand on her shoulder," I whisper. Madge squeezes my arm.

"Don't beat yourself up about it," she says softly. "Katniss is flighty by nature."

"But before she was fine," I protest. I can't get the look of Katniss' face out of my mind. She looked so frightened. So disbelieving. Her eyes were wide and unblinking. Her skin turned deathly white. I shouldn't have left her run off by herself. Not in that state.

But what hurt me the most was how she responded to me simply trying to comfort her. Her panic when she ran off. I can't help but think that I've done something to hurt her. I rack my brains, desperately searching through all the pieces of information I can bring up for something that could offer any hints to Katniss' behaviour. I come up with nothing but a headache.

All through Haymitch's uncomfortable and crude lesson, I'm stuck in thought. Mitch says nothing, but I can tell he's worried about me. He does his best to distract me.

"I asked Madge out the other day," h confesses, pretending to act blasé as his eyes flicker from the chalkboard and his hands. His fingers twist together, revealing his nerves.

"And?"

"She said yes."

"And her father?" I ask. Mitch looks away, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water as he tries to pull together an answer. "Ah, forbidden love." I muse. Mitch rolls his eyes.

"So now I know how you feel when you say you're worried about Katniss," he says. I look down at the desk. "I'm sure she's fine. She's been through worse than a stomach bug."

I shrug, trying to ignore all thoughts of Katniss and focus on the lesson but to no avail. Dozens of scenarios whiz through my mind as Haymitch goes red in the face with laughter at everyone's expressions, clutching at the desk so he doesn't fall over.

At lunch, I sit at my usual table and Madge joins us to sit beside Mitch, who lays his arm over her shoulders and pulls her close. She leans against him as they eat, and I feel a pang of jealousy. All around me are happy couples. I have nothing of that kind of love, and when I try to get anywhere with it feels like with every step forward I take, I'm dragged back a mile.

By the time the bell rings to signal the end of the day, I've got my plan down to the very last minute, and I race down the corridors and burst into the bright sunshine bathing the school yard. "Waiting for Katniss?" I ask Prim, spotting her standing under the tree like always.

"Have you seen her?"

"Not recently."

"I thought she was your Games partner."

"She is-" I begin, only to be cut off by a tongue just as sharp as Katniss'.

"Then surely you should know?"

I crumble under the gaze of a twelve year old. "She went home ill."

"Did she say anything?"

"Not really- she kind of ran out of here without much explanation. I'm sure she'd appreciate it if I walk you home, though."

"It's okay. I'll walk with the Hawthornes. Gale's going to the candy shop after school with his brothers, so hopefully I'll be able to scrimp something off them."

"Good luck," I call to her as she slips away. Prim waves to me just as she spies the Hawthornes walking out of the school gates. I wait until they've rounded the corner before walking to the Seam. Mom always said that the Seam was a place for rats and scoundrels alike, but I think the place has some sort of charm to it. Ignore the falling-down houses and often starving inhabitants, and you get a place filled with people who value family and friends rather than anything else, which is more than you can say for some of the Merchants in town.

Years of finding out anything I can about Katniss have paid off and I find her house with ease. Standing outside the building, I run a hand through my hair and adjust my shirt before walking up onto the creaky porch steps to knock on the door. My knuckles are centimetres from the wooden entranceway when I hear it. The sound of agonized sobs radiate through the thin walls and I freeze, listening for a while longer, trying to identify the owner of these pained cries.

It's Katniss. I'm surprised that I didn't recognize her wails sooner. I can still hear her distraught sobs when her father did not come up from the ground in that elevator the day the mine collapsed, so vivid even after all this time. Timidly I knock on the door and the crying ceases, reduced to gasping sniffs.

"Who is it?" Katniss' wobbly voice calls out. My heart surges.

"It's me," I say. "Peeta."

"Go home Peeta!" Katniss hiccoughs.

"Are you okay?" I ask her, listening carefully as she gasps for breath. "You looked really ill this morning, I wanted to check on you."

"I'm fine… just, please. Go away," she sobs. I bite my lip. I can't leave her. What if something is really wrong and I did nothing?

"Katniss, you're obviously not alright. I'm coming in," I tell her, pushing the door open and stepping inside. My eyes widen as I'm greeted by a snotty, shaking Katniss with bloodshot eyes. She's nothing like the strong girl I've known for so long. "What's happened?!" I ask her, my eyebrows knitting together.

"N-nothing. Go h-home Peeta," she chokes out, her tears brimming over and onto her olive cheeks.

"You've been crying," I say, stepping closer. "I only want to help you Katniss." She shuffles backwards, up against the wall, shaking her head from left to right like a madman.

"I don't need your help!" she exclaims. "Just-just go away! Please, Peeta. You'll help me if you go away." I swallow. I've never seen Katniss like this except for when her father died. She's usually so strong- nothing fazes her, let alone reduces her to a quivering, snivelling mess. She takes another step backwards and bumps into the wall, and I notice how she's holding her left arm behind her back while the other is in my direction, as if trying to hold me back.

"What are hiding behind your back?" I ask. Katniss stiffens.

"Nothing."

"Hold your hands out then."

"You can't make me," she says, wiping her eyes with the bank of her hand, glaring at me even through the tears.

"You bet?" Katniss' eyes flicker from me, to the door, and back to me. She squeaks and darts to the door, ducking out of my way and flinging the door open, only to collide with a very surprised Prim.

"Prim!" Katniss exclaims, shoving whatever she had in her hand into the pocket of her Dad's hunting jacket and zipping it up before anyone can see what it is.

"Katniss?" Prim says, flabbergasted at her sister's dramatic exit from the house.

"Gale!" Katniss says.

"Mellark?" Gale says, though it comes out as more of a growl when he steps over the threshold of the house, chest puffed out and the expression of an angry bear woken during hibernation. He looks from me to Katniss and back to me again, his expression growing more furious the longer he stands there.

"Why are you crying?" Prim asks, gripping her sister's arms as if to stop her from running, even though we all know that Prim's small frame couldn't stop Katniss.

"I'm not – I- I'm fine, Prim."

"Catnip, what's going on?"

Katniss says nothing.

"Katniss?" Prim persists, looking frightened. "Why is Peeta here?"

"I came over to see if she was okay. She said she felt ill this morning."

"But that doesn't explain why she's crying," Gale snarls. Prim stares up at me, obviously conflicted as whether she should be glaring or standing back and assessing the situation first. "What did you do to her?" Gale asks, stepping closer to me.

"Me?" I splutter. "I don't think I've done anything!"

"Peeta has nothing to do with this," Katniss whispers, but Gale ignores her, advancing even more. I stand more upright, ready for the moment he decides to kill me.

"What the hell did you do, Mellark?" he asks. "I knew this would happen. I knew you were going to be like the rest of them and try to take advantage of her just because she's Seam and you're a Merchant."

"T-take advantage?" I repeat. "Who do you think I am?!"

"I know what Merchants are like. They go around wearing their fancy clothes and thinking that just because they have more money than us Seam folk, you can go around doing what you want."

"You obviously haven't met many Merchants, then. Have you?"

"I'm going to ask you one more time," Gale hisses. "What the fuck did you do to Katniss?"

"I don't even know why she's crying!" I say. "I came here to see if Katniss was alright because she said she wasn't feeling too good. And then I get here and she's…she's like that!"

"I don't believe you."

"Believe whatever you want. I'm not in the wrong here. At least I don't think I am," I say, trying to reason with the man stood in front of me with daggers for eyes.

"Gale, don't," Katniss croaks.

"I'm not just going to let him get away with everything!" he says, spinning around to face her. "I told you to be careful and now look what's happened."

"Don't blame her," I speak up, getting angry at Hawthorne throwing his weight around like he owns the place. I step closer – in hindsight a bad move – to stand nearer Katniss.

"Don't take another fucking step," Gale threatens. "I swear to God I'll kill you. You don't have your brothers to fight for you now, Mellark. It's just you and me."

"I'm not going to fight you."

"That makes it a whole lot easier for me."

"Peeta," Katniss says, her voice detached. I face her, surprised that she's even addressing me. "Please… just leave. I'm sorry. You need to go."

"Katniss I-"

"Please, Peeta," she whispers. I open and close my mouth like a fish, no words coming out.

"Fine," I relent. "But I'm here for you, okay?"

"I know," she says. I nod my head, apologise to Prim, and push past Gale, who stumbles slightly, unprepared for the amount of force my body can emit since I'm shorter than him. I'm a wrestler. I know how to overpower someone by using their own strengths against them.

Once I'm on the porch steps, I pause and face Katniss again.

"I'm sorry, Katniss. For anything that I've done to you. I didn't mean to ever hurt you."

And with that, I leave, walking away with so many unanswered questions and newly realised fears. What tomorrow will bring I have no idea. All I can hope is that it will be better. That the ground will be clearer so that I can look out and see clear skies and a straight path.