A/N: edited 31/12/14

This is a doubled-up chapter again because I hate short chapters, and Gale is being a dick near the end. I love him to bits but he's so fun to write as a complete and utter arse. There is also a Charles Dickens Great Expectations reference in this, because, ya know, I'm fancy like that.

Chapter 13: Mood Swings

Katniss

"Miss Everdeen, have you been paying attention to anything I've been saying?"

…

"Miss Everdeen!" I jump, the noise of a ruler snapping against my desk bringing me out of my reverie.

"I – I think I…" I trail off, looking down.

"Can you answer the question?" the teacher asks, folding his arms and staring down at me with a look of disdain. My cheeks burn as I look up at the blackboard, feeling the eyes of the class on me.

"Uh, no. I'm sorry." I shake my head.

"Why aren't you listening?"

"I don't know."

"Listen Miss Everdeen."

"I will," I say, at the teacher walks away. I roll my shoulder and grimace. My bag is too heavy. It's making my shoulder ache. The flour bag we were given weeks ago has been sitting under my bed, collecting dust all this time. It's about time that Peeta takes his turn but with the drama over the last week or so, we've completely forgotten about it. It wasn't until Prim found it while searching for a pair of shoes that I was reminded and now all it's doing is weighing me down.

But the pain in my shoulder isn't the only reason for my lack of concentration. I've been hunting more and more over the past month, trying to stock up on as much food as possible. Our house is already overflowing with dried and canned meat and vegetables, but it doesn't seem like enough. It never seems like enough.

My tummy has been getting in the way and I can no longer run as fast as I used to. I'm not as nimble with this damn thing growing inside me making me unable to keep balanced. Gale's found it hilarious at how many times I wobble or trip. I'm damn sure he won't find it funny when he finds out why. I bury my face in my arms, feeling about ready to drift off to sleep, but I have to listen to what I'm being taught. This baby will make me miss a large chunk of my schooling so I need to study hard before he or she arrives.

Thankfully, the lesson continues without further incident. I lean back in my seat, resting my hands on my stomach. I swear it's grown a huge amount overnight. I don't remember it being this big last night at the bakery. Continuously, I've had to remind myself that it's my small frame that's making my bump seem big. On a normal woman, the bump would barely be visible, maybe just big enough to cause their stomach to curve. I'm used to my belly being straight flat down or even concaving. I'm used to have no breasts. And now? Now I my breasts hurt and Mom insists that it's only the beginning.

I move my hands, avoiding any suspicions by holding my stomach. All day, my head has been spinning, my stomach has been aching and clenching. I can't concentrate properly. Mom gave me ginger roots and mint tea, but nothing could ease my nausea. Prim handed me a bundle of lavender to put in my locker, and told me to drink lots and eat something while we were walking to school, but so far, I haven't been able to stomach anything. I walked past a group of boys who were sharing a bag of something (that to me smelt strongly of egg) earlier on in the day and had to fight the urge to throw up right there in the corridor.

Somehow I was naïve enough to think that morning sickness would be limited to mornings only.

I grimace, wishing we were allowed to open the windows. Watching the trees outside sway in the calm zephyr is agonising, knowing that behind the glass I'm sitting behind is fresh air, and not the air smelling of BO and century-old textbooks.

Coal Sciences drags on for another half hour before the bell rings and lunch starts. I head to my locker and bury my head inside it; inhaling the rich smell of lavender from the bunch Prim gave me. It's made my entire locker smell, and I have to admit, the purple flowers have helped ease my dizzy head. I don't know why I'm being affected so badly.

The chattering and slamming of locker doors seems extra loud and I squeeze my eyes shut. I reckon I could stay with my head between my History book and my Language book all day just smelling lavender and not feel the need to move, though eventually I pull myself together, take a deep breath of the lavender-y air in my locker and move on to the cafeteria.

As usual, Madge is waiting at our usual table. I sit down with a sigh and drop my head onto the plastic surface between us.

"Bad day?" she asks in amusement.

"Bad everything."

"You want a strawberry?" she offers. I lift my head, my eyes zoning in on the small tub of bright red strawberries Madge is holding in my direction.

"Do you mind?"

"Not all. Go ahead."

"Thanks," I smile, taking the tub and picking out one of the soft fruits. Huh. Strawberries have never been one of my favourite fruits, the tang to the blueberries in the forest being my preferred snack, but now I can't get enough of them.

"Err… Katniss?" Madge speaks up.

"Yeah?"

"You super-hungry today or something'?" she says, raising her eyebrows with a grin on her lips.

"What?" I frown, looking down at the tub. It's empty. My mouth falls open. I've eaten all of the strawberries. "Oh, Madge! I'm so sorry! I didn't realise- I wouldn't-"

"Katniss, it's fine." Madge says with an amused smile. "I managed to eat a few before you took them all away."

My cheeks are on fire. This is so out of character for me. "I just couldn't stop eating them."

"Did you even breathe?"

"I'm really, really sorry, Madge," I say, but laughter bubbles up inside of me.

"I eat too many strawberries anyway," she shrugs, and then she begins to laugh as well until tears are rolling down our cheeks.

"You want some of my lunch?" I ask, pushing the bag of fruit and nuts towards her.

"Sure, but I won't eat all of it," she teases. I roll my eyes.

"Honestly Madge, I'll make sure to trade strawberries with you for free to make up for it."

"Katniss, I don't mind. Stop saying you're sorry!" she insists, popping a wrinkled walnut piece into her mouth. I relent in apologising, and listen as Madge chats about various things, glad of the distraction. My eyes wonder around the cafeteria as she speaks. I don't' really take in anything around me until I catch a pair of shockingly blue eyes staring into my slate grey ones. Peeta. I flash him a small smile, watching as his lips turn upwards into a full-scale grin. "Who's got you smiling?" Madge pipes up, following my line of vision.

"No-one," I say hastily, breaking eye contact with Peeta.

"Peeta Mellark?" she asks. "He's still looking at you."

"No he isn't."

"Yeah he is," she says. "Look!" Even with the voice in my head telling me not to look, I let my eyes meet his again. Madge was right. He is indeed still staring. "Whoa, sparks are flying!" Madge jokes, her eyes closing as she giggles.

"Shut up."

"Seriously, you smile when you look at him," she tells me. I look at the Mayor's daughter and scowl which only makes her own grin bigger.

"Whatever." I pick up another piece of fruit and glance up at Peeta. He raises his hand in a wave, opens his mouth to mouth something to me, but is pulled away when Valerie Thread presses her lips to his with enthusiasm, practically falling into her lap. My eyes widen and I look away, fighting the hurt that immediately begins burning in my chest. How can he let Valerie do that when the girl he's told he'd marry if she'd allow it is sitting just across the room? I thought he was genuine about the two of us working together. I may not have expected much other than a form of support so I'm not on my own to raise his son or daughter, but seeing him all over Valerie like that still hurts, damn it.

"See. We're just partners in the Games," I scowl. Madge looks up and around at the bakers son and the intake of breath is all I need to hear to be assured that Valerie is still smothering lipstick all over his face.

"Oh…" Madge says, her lips a perfect 'o'. "I didn't even realise… I'm sorry for teasing you."

"It's alright." I say, though my cheeks are flaming and tears are threatening to escape. My head replays their kiss again and again, and it just winds me up even further, ingraining the pain deeper into my bones. How could he sit there and let her kiss him? I can't look back. I won't look back. He didn't push her away. He didn't do anything. My heart clenches. I guess everything he said yesterday wasn't as sincere as I thought it was.

The bell rings to signal the end of lunch and I stand, pulling the flour sack out of my bag, suddenly furious. I will not stand to be messed around.

"You've still got that thing?" Madge asks. "I switched mine with Mitch yesterday."

"I've had it this entire time," I grumble. "It's defiantly Peeta's turn now."

Madge and I walk down the aisle between the rows of tables, and I pause when we reach the Merchant's table, which is made up of several tables pushed together. Peeta and Valerie have stopped kissing now, but she's still sitting on him. His eyes are wide and remorseful but I refuse to let them get to me.

"It's your turn," I tell him, summoning as much spite into my words as I can. "I hope I'm not ruining anything for you."

"Katniss, wait!" he says, trying to get up from his seat. I spin around and storm off, Madge following close behind.

She pulls at my arm to make me slow down. "What was that for?"

"It's nothing." I mutter, heading for my locker.

"It's obviously something," she frowns, sniffing the lavender in my locker when I yank open the door with more force than necessary. "Lavender?"

"I like the smell." I lie.

"Anyway," Madge shakes her head. "What's the deal with you?"

"There is no deal." I say, blinking rapidly and scrubbing my hands over my eyes.

"But you're crying!" she exclaims. I wrinkle my nose and put my books into my locker.

"Leave it, Madge. You don't understand!" I snap. Madge blinks, taken aback at my sudden outburst. I take a deep breath. "I'm sorry. It's just that I'm not feeling well, and there's a lot going on at the moment."

"You know I'm here for you."

So was Peeta.

"I know," I sigh, closing the locker and turning to her with a rueful smile. "But this isn't something I want to discuss."

"Is it to do with Peeta?"

"I guess you could say that."

"Well, I'll leave you two to sort it out, whatever it is."

"Thank you."

"No problem," she replies, her eyes searching mine. "Now come on. We should head to Gym."

I pull my shirt over my head and swap it for the tee we're required to wear during Gym classes. A pair of shorts adorn my twig legs, and I tie my ratty old pair of sneakers tightly onto my feet. I straighten up, retying my braid, when I feel a pair of eyes on me. Looking to my left, I find Madge watching me.

"What?" I ask her.

"Nothing, just thinking," she shrugs, tying her golden hair into a ponytail and adjusting the laces of her expensive-looking shoes.

Once we're in the newly repaired hall, Coach Marr begins setting up a game. Clutching at my stomach, I groan as a fresh wave of nausea washes over me. At lunch it was just a dull ache, but now it's back and making my head spin so badly my vision is blurring at the edges.

"You're practically green," Madge says, her brow furrowing as she hovers around me.

"I just need to sit down," I mumble, heading to the side of the hall and sitting down on one of the creaky wooden benches.

"Have you eaten anything else today?"

"Except for fruit and nuts?" I ask. Madge nods. "Nope."

"What about yesterday?"

"I don't think this is anything to do with what I have or haven't eaten."

"Is it PMS?" Madge whispers. I blush.

"Hell no."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know. I just feel sick," I lean back against the wall and close my eyes. "I'm fine Madge, don't worry."

She bites at her thumb, glancing worriedly at me. I try not to move, but when Coach swaps teams and I have to get up to play, I find that I just feel worse. I stand in position in the corner of the pitch, far away from the net, and watch my teammates play.

"Everdeen! Get in there!" Coach shouts. I look up, finding Madge watching me from the other side of the pitch with a concerned expression, and step forward, determined to prove her wrong – and walk straight into Peeta and his strangely familiar broad chest.

"Sorry-" he says, and then takes me in. A thousand emotions wash over his face and I yank my arm away from where he's grabbed my arm. "Oh, Katniss I-"

"I'm not talking to you," I say, moving away from him.

"I need to explain, Katniss. Please. It wasn't what it looked like!"

"Oh please!" I hiss. "She was all over you and you didn't do a thing!"

"No, listen-"

"No, you listen," I growl. "If you're with Valerie, you could've at least told me, considering the situation."

"I'm not with Valerie!" he exclaims. I roll my eyes. "I told her the first time to back off, and you didn't see me push her away in the cafeteria and then I couldn't get her off of me and-"

"Wait, the first time?" I cry. Peeta backtracks, his eyes widening so much I'd laugh if I wasn't about ready to smack him over the edge with the heaviest book in my locker.

"Oh, Jesus Christ…" he mutters, running his hand through his tousled hair. I let out a deep breath and place my hands on my hips, my belly aching again. I try to ignore it, but it's like PMS from hell and it's taking over my body. "Katniss, you don't look too good."

"Like you know anything, Peeta. While you were making out with Valerie and having the time of your damn life, I was being plagued by morning sickness."

"Morning sickness?"

"Yes, it's one of the side effects carrying a bastard, which you'd know if you-"

"Hey, that isn't fair-"

"You know what else isn't fair?" I ask. Peeta stares at me, wounded.

"Coach!" he interrupts me, stepping forward. "Katniss needs to go to the nurse. She isn't looking good."

"Shut up you idiot-"

"Katniss, I'm trying to help you. Will you stop yelling at me for just a few seconds?" Peeta asks. I glare at him.

"You feeling ill Everdeen?" Coach Marr asks. He seems to have a problem with first names.

"A little."

"Alright Mellark, take her to the nurse and be back ASAP," he instructs. Peeta grabs my arm and hauls me away. Madge watches with wide eyes as Peeta pushes the door to the hallway open, and we stumble into the quiet corridor.

Peeta

"What is your problem?!" Katniss hisses at me, her grey eyes stormy as she tries to reign in her fury.

"I know that all came out wrong," I say. "But Valerie kissed me the night you found out that you were pregnant."

"Shh!" Katniss snaps. "Not out loud!"

"Sorry, sorry," I say, holding my hands up in the air. "But I pushed her away. I told her not to do it again."

Katniss' eyes narrow into slits. "But she did do it again. How many times Peeta?"

"I can't believe how childish you're being!" I exclaim.

"How would you like me to react Peeta?" she asks, her voice low and commanding in a way only angry women can be. "Would you like me to say 'No, sure. You go kiss whoever you want!' I'll just stand around and then pop out your baby and that'll be that?!"

"No!" I yell, my voice echoing in the empty corridor. Katniss barely hides her surprise. "I don't expect you to say that. I expect you to be pissed off. But I didn't think you'd act like this!" Katniss' nostrils flare and she falters before whirling around, her braid smacking me in the face, and running down the corridor. "Don't run away from me when I'm trying to explain!" I call, taking off after her.

I follow her up a flight of stairs, only stopping when she disappears into the girl's bathroom. Oh. I pace up at down outside the door anxiously, but I can't hear a thing through the door. "I'm coming in!" I say, pushing the door open. I spot Katniss' foot sticking out from one of the open cubicles and hesitantly step forward, only to find her retching into the toilet.

"Go away," she groans.

"I didn't know," I say softly, crouching down beside her and pulling her hair of the way. "I'm sorry. I pushed her away and told her not to do it again, I really did. She didn't understand what 'no' meant, obviously," Katniss' back tenses, and she retches again. I grimace at the sound. "How bad is it?" I ask her.

"Imagine you're in the same position I'm in right now," Katniss grumbles, sitting back and sighing. I help her up.

"If I had known, I would've done something. You should know that I'd never do that to you," Katniss looks up at me weakly.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles. "I shouldn't have yelled."

"I deserved it."

"No, Peeta. You didn't."

"This is gonna get worse isn't it?"

"For me, asshole. All you have to do is put up with it."

"Which is, in some ways, equally as bad. I'm like a sinking boat in a storm," I attempt a joke but am shot down by her withering expression. I try another tactic. "You should go to the nurse."

"I'm not going to the nurse. How do I explain to her what has happened? I'm sure she'd keep it to herself," she says sarcastically.

"You should eat something, then. And have something to drink."

"As long as it's not anything to do with egg," she sighs, going a little green again at the word. "Cheese sounds great right about now."

"I'm afraid I haven't got any cheese, but I do have some bread. That usually settles my stomach."

"I can't take your food."

"I saw you take Madge's," I say, and Katniss glares at me, before finally accepting my offer.

Watching Katniss eat is heart-breaking. I sit there, leaning against the wire separating the bench from the one next to it; my eyes wide as Katniss tucks into a sandwich filled with fruit preserves like it's the first proper meal she's had in days. I wonder if it is, and that only makes me feel even worse. Her hands shake slightly as she holds the stale bread, and she stares at the preserves oozing out from between the slices like I'm eating jewels. Her movements are jerky, her bites small and jarring as she chews slowly and carefully, her eyes darting around as if I'm going to take it away from and laugh in her face.

"You're pretty hungry, aren't you?" I observe sadly. Katniss looks up.

"I don't need your pity," she mumbles, her mouth full of food. I raise my eyebrows.

"Katniss, I'm not pitying you…" she gives me a withering look. "But you need to eat more."

"I know," she says, and I know she knows. "But I haven't been hunting in a while. I haven't been feeling up to it."

"You're welcome to have food from the bakery-"

"I'm not accepting hand-outs," she says stubbornly. I look from the sandwich she's almost finished and back to her. She looks at the floor.

"You did once before." I remind her. Her cheeks pale.

"That was different."

"There are a lot of surprising similarities… but please don't think of it as pity or charity. I just want to help you. And the baby."

"No, Peeta. I'll be – we'll be fine."

The room falls silent and I offer Katniss a drink of water from the bottle I've brought with me. I can't help but notice how her cheeks have begun to hollow like they do every winter. Her clothes are baggy, to hide her belly, I assume, and pretty soon they'll be hanging off the skeletal body that the cold weather brings and hiding the pregnancy won't matter. I hate seeing her that way while I can look forward to going home to a roof over my head and a meal on the table.

"What's happened to you?" I ask her.

"Huh?"

"Last night, you were crying in my arms and today you're snapping at me." Katniss sighs, her eyes sad.

"I don't know. I guess it's a mix of morning sickness and confusion."

"Are you still scared?" I ask her. She looks up at me and nods. "I'm scared too. I keep worrying about what my brothers think of me. I know that Dad's trying to hide his disappointment. He never thought I'd be the one to fuck up so badly."

Katniss reaches over and squeezes my hand in hers in reassurance, like I did when we were reaped together. "It'll be okay. Maybe this 'fuck up' of ours will turn out to be better than we first thought."

"I'm here for you," I blurt, instantly regretting it. Katniss stares at me, and I think I've pushed whatever relationship we've begun to build up over the edge, but her grey eyes soften and she smiles.

"Thank you."

"Marry me, Katniss," I add after a long moment of silence, and she grips my water bottle tightly in her hand.

"No."

"Why not?"

"You don't want this. I don't think I want this," she says bitterly, standing up.

"Katniss- I…"

"It's a no. I'm sorry Peeta. Thank you for the sandwich," she mumbles, her eyes swimming with tears, before she turns and runs out of the changing room, leaving me sitting alone on the tiled floor.

Yet again, I've put a rut between us. And just when I thought we were getting somewhere.

Katniss

Marry me Katniss. Marry me Katniss. Marry me Katniss.

What?

No matter what I do, I can't stop replaying Peeta's surprise proposal. I feel like it came out of nowhere as if he didn't quite mean to say it but it split over anyway. When he and his father came over to speak with us, I refused any ideas of marriage. I'm sixteen. I'm pregnant. Haven't I done enough to ruin lives already? Apparently it isn't the case at least not in Peeta's book.

My reaction to Peeta's proposal was foolish. I knew as I ran away that I should've stayed – should've spoken to him and voiced my opinions of marriage instead of fleeing away from his pained expression. But I was so bewildered that I didn't know what else to do. It was fight or flight and I chose (once again) the latter. I escape the school after grabbing my belongings from the changing room and my locker, ignoring the shouts of the hall monitor that spots me dashing towards the school gates.

"Hey!" He yells. "School isn't over for another twenty minutes!"

I race towards the Seam, not fully understanding where I'm running to until I find myself in the meadow. I lie down in the long grass, staring blankly up at cold blue December sky. This time last year, I was thinking about whether I would be able to afford Prim hair ribbons for Christmas this year, and would Gale and I be able to catch enough game to make it through the harsh District 12 winter?

This year has done a complete turn in a direction I had never even seen coming. Now I'm a few days off being four months pregnant with the baker's child and considering my engagement to him.

In my head, I try and make a list of the pros and cons of a possible marriage to Peeta. Pros are that it would save both our families from becoming pariahs. A marriage to Peeta would mean that I had someone to help me, someone to fall back on. I assume we'd move into a house together, which means that I'd have a place to go. I know he'd be a good and honest spouse, but I don't think I can be good and honest back. I'd only drag him down. I'd only make him miserable.

I struggle to come up with many cons, the biggest being that I'd be throwing away my life though my fate was already sealed the night of the party, in Peeta's bed. Living in such a small district, where everyone knows nearly everyone, it means that if I had this child and didn't have anything to do with it, I'd watch him or her growing up in the Orphan's Home, and I can't do that. Everyone knows that the poor children aren't looked after. They're malnourished, beaten, unloved. At least raising the child as my own would mean it would be cared for. To what extent, I'm unsure, but at least I'd try.

Having the child and raising it myself, but not allowing Peeta to have anything to do with it would mean having a gut wrenching guilt hanging over me like a black cloud. Everyone needs bread; even those who make their own from tesserae grain buy from the bakery. I would see Peeta and his family whenever I visited. Facing him would be impossible. Surely it would become easier with time, but as our child grew, he or she would ask questions. Ask who their father was. Either I'd have to tell them, or they'd find out themselves. And what if the child looks exactly like Peeta? Blonde curls, shockingly blue eyes, and a mouth that spun gold? People would talk. People would figure it out.

I sigh, resting my hands on my stomach and closing my eyes. My bump has grown. I've already stopped wearing certain items of clothing, fearing that it'll make it obvious to anyone watching close enough. Pretty soon it's going to be obvious. Gale will see. Madge will see. Everyone will see.

"Katniss? What are you doing out here? It's freezing!" I open my eyes and jump when I find Peeta leaning over me, his eyes wide, bundled up in a jacket.

"What are you doing here?" I ask. How didn't I hear him coming? He's not exactly light footed.

"I came after you. I wanted to apologise."

I close my eyes. "I don't want to talk to anyone right now."

"You can't stay out here, Katniss. It's December. You'll freeze," Peeta crouches down in the grass that is damp from the frost that formed upon it overnight only to melt in the weak winter sun.

"I'm not cold," I mutter, ignoring the icy chill rolling through me. I was so deep in thought that I didn't feel the cold seeping into my body.

"Take my coat."

"No."

"Katniss, I don't want you or the baby getting ill."

"I'm fine," I snap. Peeta sighs. I wait for him to walk away, closing my eyes. A squeak bursts from my mouth when I feel Peeta's hands snaking around my waist and under my knees, struggling when he lifts me from the ground like I weigh nothing. "What are you doing?" I hiss. "Put me down!"

"I told you to take my coat, and you didn't. So I'm taking you back to your place so you don't freeze to death out here," Peeta says. I push against his chest.

"Peeta!" I cry. "Let me go!"

"No." Peeta shakes his head, walking forward as I squirm. He just holds me tighter.

"For fucks sake…" I mutter, a scowl settling on my lips. "How the hell are you even carrying me?" I ask. Peeta looks down at me.

"You weigh barely anything. The hundred-pound sacks of flour I carry at the bakery must be heavier than you," he chuckles. I roll my eyes.

"I'm too heavy. I've got a basketball stomach too."

"Trust me, Katniss. If I didn't think I could carry you, I wouldn't have."

"Whatever…"

"And you haven't got a basketball stomach."

"Not yet, anyway," I grumble. Peeta's laugh rumbles in his chest. "Why are you laughing?" I ask him bitterly. He shakes his head, eyes sparkling.

"Nothing."

"Tell me!" I exclaim. Peeta smirks.

"It's funny, when you get frustrated," he shrugs, a flush working its way up his neck. "You wrinkle your nose."

"Pff," I scoff. "And you run your hand through your hair when you're stressed, and the left side of your mouth twitches when you're trying not to laugh at something."

A blush spreads over my own face to match Peeta's. I can't believe I just said that.

"I do?" Peeta asks, seemingly thinking nothing of my observation.

"Uh… yeah," I laugh. Timidly, I rest my head on Peeta's shoulder, the steady sway of him walking making me slightly sleepy. "Do you mind?" I ask him.

"No," Peeta shakes his head vigorously. "Not at all." I watch, fascinated, as a blush makes it way up to his ears. I wonder what's made him so nervous.

"Good." I say softly. Just as I'm getting comfortable in Peeta's arms, the world tips on its side and I see the ground rushing up towards me. Peeta yells out, and I land partially on my stomach, but catch myself on my hands before I body slam the ground, the air rushing from my lungs.

"Katniss, are you alright?" Peeta asks, pushing himself up from where he's fallen and pulling me upright. I clutch at my tummy, my heart racing. I'm okay. Nothing hurts.

"I'm fine, what happened?"

"Jesus, calm down," Gale's voice comes from behind me and I whirl around.

"He tripped me up from behind!" Peeta says, his eyes wide. I feel my jaw fall slack.

"Why were you carrying her?" Gale asks, apparently unaware of the panic he's caused. Why would he? He doesn't know that I'm pregnant. He's just being an asshole.

"Why the fuck did you trip him up?" I exclaim.

"Mind the language," Gale mutters. I spy Prim, Rory and Vick chatting further down the road, but they haven't seen what's happened yet. I want to try and keep it that way. I don't need more eyes and ears focused on us.

"Bullshit," I say, stepping forward. "Like you aren't partial to a few curse words here and there."

"Why'd you do that?" Peeta asks Gale.

"Why were you carrying her?"

"I fell over and hurt my foot." I snap.

"And Dough Boy was conveniently in the right place at the right time?"

"Yeah, actually. He was!"

"Don't keep following her, Mellark."

"Don't go tripping me up! One of us could have been hurt!" Peeta cries.

"Yeah, but you weren't," Gale says, looking suspiciously between the two of us. I can sense that this is going to quickly escalate into something nasty.

"That isn't the point!" Peeta grimaces. "Do you go around tripping people up all the time?"

"Fuck you, Mellark."

"Answer me, Hawthorne!" The two square their shoulders. They're an equal match for different reasons. Gale is tall and lean after years spent hunting having made him fast and strong. He's like a panther, or a wolf. Sneaky and stronger than one would think, always going in for the kill. Peeta, one the other hand, is like an ox, with broad shoulders and thick muscles and the advantage of being a wrestling champion and working all day hefting heavy crates and sacks.

Gale is never one to back out of a challenge. "You think you can fight me?"

Peeta is just the same, even if he won't admit it. "I know I can."

"Shut the hell up, both of you!" I yell. Gale's stormy grey eyes grow cold. Peeta's hands are clenching into fists at his sides. "Go home, Gale."

"I'm watching you," Gale tells Peeta. "And if you touch her, I'll beat you to a pulp."

"I'd like to see you try." Peeta growls.

"Come on," I order, yanking Peeta's arm and leaving Gale in the middle of the road. We head to my house. "Inside, Prim." I say to my sister. She says a hasty goodbye to the younger Hawthornes and hurries into our house.

"I shouldn't go in," Peeta says, breathing heavily beside me.

"You shouldn't, but you are," I say with finality, holding the door open for him.

Peeta

I stand there on the Everdeen porch, rage still coursing through my veins after my confrontation with Gale. I can't believe he tripped me. Katniss landed on her stomach. What if she or the baby had been hurt? I never would've forgiven myself and no one would've been able to stop me going after Gale.

Katniss grows inpatient and hauls me over the threshold.

"Are you okay?" I ask her, eyeing her tummy. She catches me looking and pulls her thin jacket around herself with a frown.

"I'm fine."

"The baby?"

"I landed mostly on my hands," she says. "Stop worrying."

"If you're worried, I can get Mom to check for you," Primrose says. I forgot she was standing by the kitchen table. "You fell pretty hard. You don't want to miscarry." I blink, staring at the blonde-haired girl in front of me. She sure knows what's she's talking about.

"Prim, I'm alright. If I feel I need Mom's help, I'll ask."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure," Katniss smiles. "Little Duck." She adds. Prim turns beet red.

"I told you not to call me that in front of people!"

"Don't worry, Prim," I say, feeling like a literal elephant in the room. "My brothers called me Peety-pie for years when I was younger." Prim giggles.

"Aww, Little Duck and Peety-pie," Katniss smiles from the doorway, squeezing past her little sister. "Sit down Peeta. I'm just going to the bathroom. You don't have to follow me in there too."

The room falls silent and I pull a chair out, the legs scraping noisily against the floor, causing me to wince. Prim sits opposite me, her pale irises studying me intently. I fidget in my seat. The twelve-years-old's gaze is quite unnerving.

"So, you're the one who knocked my sister up?" she asks suddenly. I jump in my seat and then look down at my lap. It's like she's a stand-in for how I'm sure Mr Everdeen would've been, with the stern looks and questions.

"…Yeah."

"Why are you all nervous?"

"You're actually quite intimidating," I admit and she laughs, sounding just like Katniss.

"I'm intimidating?" she asks, disbelieving. I nod. "I haven't heard that before."

"Katniss is usually the one described as intimidating," I say, and she laughs again. "Besides, I like to keep things interesting."

"You sure do. Who else knocks up their Baby Games partner?" Prim smirks. I stare, wide-eyed. "You didn't think that you actually had to have a baby, did you?"

"No, but my brothers nearly convinced me that I did to freak me out… I can't believe I believed them… but, honestly, I didn't mean to… uh... impregnate – no, that's not the right word-" I mumble, growing more and more embarrassed.

"It's alright Peeta. I know what you mean," Prim cuts me off.

"What did you do to him?" Katniss asks, coming back into the room.

"Interrogated him," Prim says, pulling a book from her bag. "He seems alright, you know. Apart from the 'I'm gonna be a Dad at 16' thing."

"Seventeen, actually…" I add.

"Peeta." Katniss rolls her eyes.

"Sorry, not helping."

"Not really," she laughs.

"Look at him blushing!" Prim pokes, jabbing her pencil into my arm.

"Prim!" Katniss hisses. "Stop it!"

"Sorry… but look." I feel two pairs of eyes watching me.

"Sitting right here…" I remind them.

"He's a genius too," Katniss says, her embarrassed look breaking into a grin. I sit awkwardly as the two Everdeen sisters snort. "I'm sorry, Peeta. You know we don't mean it," she says once she's calmed down.

"I know you don't, it's her I'm scared of," I motion to Primrose. She smiles sweetly.

"Do you want something to drink?" Katniss asks me. I stand from my seat.

"Thanks, but no thanks. I better get going… I have to work." I say. She blinks.

"Oh, okay. See you around?" she asks, stepping forward to walk me to the door.

"Of course."

"Don't get into any fights with Gale; he's a bit protective."

"A bit." I mumble. Katniss swats at my arm.

"Sorry about Prim."

"It's nothing," I say. Katniss stands uncomfortably at the door. "Do we hug? Or…"

"Uh, if you want… I mean, don't mind," Katniss mumbles, before making up her mind and leaning forward. I tuck her under my chin, revelling in the feeling of her in my arms. She pulls away too soon for my liking and looks down at the floor. I clear my throat and step outside.

"Katniss?" I call as I come off the porch and onto the road. She looks up at me.

"Yeah?"

"Think about what I said," Katniss bites her lip and locks eyes with me, before firmly shutting the door, leaving me frustrated and bewildered outside her house. Yet again, I've been left with no answer.