A/N: edited 01/01/15

Start the year as you mean to end, right? Gale reminds me of Bruce Banner sometimes, and Peeta is usually what causes him to turn green and smash shit. Bless him.

Chapter 16: Anguish

Katniss

Peeta smells of soap, fresh bread, and cinnamon. I think I'd be perfectly content with staying in his arms forever. "We should probably get going. I don't want to face Effie or Haymitch because we were late," he mumbles into my hair, my skin burning at the spots where his lips brush my ear.

"Can't we just stay here?" I ask. "I mean, I've got Coal Sciences and four hours of Haymitch and Effie to contend with today, and that's too much to handle." Peeta chuckles.

"Come on, it's Friday. We've got the weekend," he says. I find myself smiling at how both Peeta and I have used the word 'we' in our sentences.

"If I die of boredom before the end of the day, it's your fault," I threaten. He grins, pulling away and squeezing my arms. "Thank you." I add.

His blue eyes are gleaming. "For what?"

"For everything. For this." I look down at the ring that's currently burning against my finger.

"You're welcome. Thanks for saying yes, again," he says softly, the dappled light permeating the branches of the willow tree making his hair glow.

"I'm a catch, Mellark. Don't let me go," I quirk an eyebrow and Peeta laughs, parting the willow leaves to I can get through.

My heart clenches in the cavity of my chest when I hear him whisper I won't as we step out into the weak sunshine. I don't think he meant for me to hear that. He graciously carries my bag, slinging it over his shoulder with ease as we walk along. I ask him about his classes, about things like hobbies and interests. I want to learn more about the boy- the man- I'm going to marry once he turns seventeen later in the month.

As we walk, I find myself noticing small things. Like the way his eyebrows pull together when he's talking about something in great depth, or when he's mad. How he has a single dimple on the right side of his face that only appears when he really smiles. My stomach twists, and then slowly brings itself back upright.

"I'll see you in an hour," he smiles at me outside the door of the Coal Sciences room. I nod, but observe that Peeta's grin doesn't reach his eyes. In fact, his usual calm eyes look… angry.

"See you then." I smile, surprising myself by pressing a soft kiss to Peeta's cheek. I pull away, cheeks bright, and turn to open the door.

"And Miss Everdeen, why are you late?" The teacher asks. I turn and find the corridor empty; Peeta has vanished.

"I'm sorry Miss, I just got side-tracked at home," I apologise. The teacher scowls at me, but returns to explaining the uses of coal. I scamper to my seat, surprised to find Madge sitting there.

"I thought you were in the other science group."

"I know," she shrugs. "But I asked to be moved here."

"Oh." I mumble, sitting down beside her. She eyes my stomach, and then my face.

"So why were you really late?" she asks while I dig around in my bag for my book. "And don't pretend that you weren't with Peeta."

"Shh!" I hiss. "Keep it down."

"Sorry, but are you going to tell me where you were? You're not taking advantage of the fact that you can't get pregnant are you?" She raises an eyebrow.

"Madge!" I cry, pushing her shoulder. "Gross, and it's not like that between us two. We're just friends."

"Friends, yeah. Sure."

"Why don't you believe me?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Madge looks down at my swollen tummy that's half-hidden by my jacket.

I push a lock of hair behind my ear and shake my head. "Whatever Madge."

"Is that what I think it is?" she suddenly gasps, dumbfounded, snatching up my left hand. "Katniss! Is that why you're late?"

"Keep your voice down!" I whisper, trying to pull my hand away from Madge. She keeps a tight grip on my fingers anyway, examining the ring.

"Oh, Katniss. It's beautiful!" Madge coos, looking at me with big eyes. "Where did he do it?"

"He took me to the little willow grove behind the abandoned coal warehouse," I reply, the girly excitement from Madge infecting me as well. I pull my hand away and remove thing ring from my finger, turning it over and over.

It's gold, but the metal looks tarnished, well loved. Painstakingly engraved into it are tiny vines and leaves, and set in the middle is a small green gem that sparkles in the light. It's so simple, yet makes me feel warm inside. It shows that Peeta cares. Did he really nag the blacksmith to make it? I can't imagine how much this must have cost.

In the Seam, new rings are rare. The father of the bride or groom usually gives the groom the ring that's been passed down from generation to generation. The wedding ring that Dad gave Mom is one of the only things that we haven't sold when times were tough.

"It's so romantic." Madge sighs, and I smile to myself, feeling warm inside. I guess it is. "I'm really happy for you, Katniss, and Peeta is a good guy, he'll take care of you," she tells me, pausing to write something down in her notebook. "Everything will be okay in the end. You'll see."

"Thank you, Madge," I say, placing a hand on her arm. I decide to try and engage in more girl talk. "How's it going with Mitch?" At this, Madge blushes, a smile creeping onto her lips as she continues writing.

"It's going good."

"Just good?" I ask. "Madge, you're bright red!"

"Okay, more than good," She says. I nudge her shoulder. "He was trying to teach me how to ride during the weekend."

"Ride?" I ask warily. Madge turns to me, cheeks almost purple she's blushing so hard.

"Katniss!" She hisses. I laugh. "I meant ride a horse, you creep!"

"Okay, okay. I understand."

"And I fell off and he was so worried. He thought my Dad was going to kill him because I fell in the mud but I just laughed," Madge says, a dreamy look appearing in her eyes. "And then I pulled him into the mud too."

"Adorable!" I say sarcastically.

"I could say the same about you and Peeta and drunken after-party fucking." Madge says. I blush at how crudely she puts it.

I scowl and she laughs. "Mitch has changed you."

"Peeta's changed you too!"

"How?" I ask, eyebrows raised.

"Katniss, in all the years I've known you, you've never joined in talking about girl stuff with me. You always let me talk. And now? Now you're pregnant with a Merchant's kid and getting married to him!"

"Okay, maybe I have changed. But I'm sure you would've too if you were in this situation."

"I'm not saying I wouldn't, but you seem so much more relaxed now. You smile more," Madge says, giving me a pointed look. For the rest of the lesson we take it in turns grilling each other on the state of our relationships. I insist that Peeta and I are only getting married to stop us from becoming complete pariahs. Madge tries to come up with a way of telling her protective father about her relationship with Mitch.

But I'm lost in thought. Yet again, the words of others have sent me into a spin. Madge is right – normally I would never start a conversation about boys, I would just nod and make the appropriate sounds of agreement whenever Madge paused during her excited babbling about some Capitol celebrity. I never felt butterflies in my stomach thinking about someone and never thought to spend the time thinking about whether a certain someone had looked my way as I walked past them. I didn't need to. It wasn't essential to my survival, and therefore, wasn't important.

However, I'm not completely oblivious to the feelings of others. I'm not a stoic plank of wood despite what people may say. I know Gale feels differently to me than I do to him. To me, Gale is like a brother. We hunt together, we grew up together, and we support each other. And I will never be able to feel a different type of love to him. He's my best friend.

Peeta Mellark, the blonde-haired, blue eyed, broad shouldered prodigy, is another story who smashed his way into my life when I least expected. Lately, I've been eager to meet with him and talk to him. Hiding behind a scowl is difficult, when what I really want to do it push the curls from his eyes and stay wrapped in his arms forever. Back in the willow grove, I felt safe. I felt loved. I felt like I could love back, and be content for the rest of my days. I had to force myself to ignore how Peeta was just the right height to be able to rest his chin on the top of my head, and how I could rest my head on his muscular chest quite comfortably. How when he spoke, the rumbling in his chest caused me to feel funny, but in a good way that I can't describe. Perhaps that's what makes it special.

I shake my head, trying to clear my mind. These thoughts of Peeta won't do me any good. Mom would tell me to follow my heart, but I've built up so many barriers over the years since the death of my father, that it would take everything a person had to break them down. Will Peeta ever be able to do that? Will I ever learn to wear my heart on my sleeve and let someone in? Peeta is too much like his father – honest and food through and through – to ever hurt me, but the fear is still there, biting at my heels.

"Katniss?" Madge asks, shaking my arm.

"Yeah?"

"Come on, the lesson is over," she says. I look up and find that everyone is filtering out of the room. I stand, grab my bag and shove my books inside. Madge is still looking at me in concern. "You seemed pretty deep in thought. You alright?"

"I'm fine." I say. We walk out into the corridor and I follow Madge down the corridor.

Effie is dressed in blue today. Blue shoes, blue skirt, blue sparkly blouse and blue feathers in her perfectly coiffed hair. She stands at the front of the hall and claps her hands, trying to get our attention. Haymitch stands beside her, looking around with a look of annoyance.

"Hey," I hear a voice say softly into my ear. I spin around, and find Peeta standing behind me, a smile on his lips.

"Hi!" I say, earning a nudge in the ribs from Madge. I glare at her and she hides a smile behind her hand.

"You alright?" Peeta asks. I nod, watching as his dimple makes and appearance. "I'm assuming Madge knows?" He asks teasingly.

"You bet I do." Madge smirks.

"She doesn't miss anything," I roll my eyes. "It's exhausting." Peeta chuckles. Mitch runs up to Madge and she grins, cheeks going pink. I smirk at her and she shakes her head before turning back to Mitch.

"I haven't told Mitch anything yet," Peeta says. "But I have a feeling everyone will know before I can tell them if you carry on the way you are, blabber-mouth."

"Don't make me feel too guilty," I scowl and he laughs even more. My heart clenches as he folds his arms over his chest. Even through his old wrestling hoodie I can see the flexing of his muscles, evidence of years of work at the bakery. So different to the Seam men I've grown up around.

Gale is taller than Peeta, but his muscles are less defined due to malnutrition. Gale has stormy grey eyes that mirror mine too much to be comfortable, and Peeta's are so blue I feel I could get lost in them. Gale's hair is unruly and dark, his skin has a permanent brown hue to it from hours out in the sun, but Peeta has pale skin, with a scattering of freckles over his shoulder blades and back. Gale has scars all over his body from hunting, but Peeta has white scars all up his arms, and most recently, burns that cover his hands. These little things that I notice make me blush.

We find ourselves moving easily into each other's arms as Effie tells us that she will be examining our progress with dancing, and if it's satisfactory, she'll move us on to other dances. Peeta's hand burns into the small of my back as he pulls me close, but never pulling me flush to his body. He chats softly with me as we move in a circle. I feel like we're the only couple in the room that doesn't feel awkward in each other's arms, (except Madge and Mitch). I find myself wondering what Peeta would do if I moved my hand from his shoulder and put it at his neck, winding my fingers through his hair.

Before I can convince myself that it is a bad idea, I'm doing exactly that. Peeta stiffens momentarily, but carries on talking, his eyes locked on mine. I offer him a soft smile. He squeezes my hand.

"We'll be alright, Katniss," he says, and his eyes hold so much emotion I struggle to not look away. "I'll look after both of you."

"I know you will." I say, my heart breaking.

"Please don't feel like you have to do this because you owe it to me, or Prim. I want you to do this because you want to," he mentions, carefully like I'm a deer caught in a snare.

"Trust me, I would've said no if I didn't want to do this," I grin. Peeta takes a deep breath, opens his mouth to say something, but closes it again. I frown. "What is it?" I ask him.

"Nothing."

"Tell me, Peeta." I insist. "We told each other that we had to be honest with each other." Peeta takes a deep breath, looking at something over my shoulder before dragging his eyes back to mine.

"Well, you know it's my birthday on Sunday?" he asks. I nod. "My Dad, he insisted that you come round and have dinner. But I told him that you might feel awkward there, and my mother is still being sour, and that you may not want to even come," Peeta looks flustered as he babbles on. "I told him that it wasn't necessary, but he said that I should ask anyway and that-"

I interrupt him before he passes out. "Peeta, I'd love to have dinner."

"You would?" He asks in disbelief.

"Well, yeah. I'm gonna have to face your family at one point, and it's your birthday. I can't not go to my fiancé's birthday dinner."

"You don't have to," he says earnestly. "But my Dad really wants you to come."

I scratch my nails lightly against the back of his neck where his spine meets his skull and his hand tightens on the material of my sweater. "And you don't?! You can tell your Dad that I'd be honoured."

"Oh, okay. Good, I suppose." Peeta smiles.

"You suppose?" I tease. "I'm beginning to think that you don't want me to come at all!"

"No, I do!" Peeta says, before realising that I'm playing around. "I'll pick you up at five o'clock."

"I'll be waiting." I grin.

School ends quicker than I would have liked and I say goodbye to Peeta and walk home with Prim. She spots the ring on my finger just as we reach the top of the hill that signals the start of the Seam roads and is almost catatonic with excitement.

"I was wondering where you two were! I turned around and 'poof!' you were gone!" she cries, looking at the ring with adoration. "It's beautiful, Katniss. Congratulations."

"Sure, the ring may be beautiful, but Sunday isn't going to be." I say, gloomily.

"Sunday?"

"It's Peeta's birthday and he's invited me round for dinner," I explain. "But I have nothing wear and I don't know what to buy him."

"You can get him something for his painting. Or sketching." Prim suggests.

"I'll go to the Hob to get his present, but I still have nothing to wear. I can't go to the Mellark's dressed in a patched dress. I need to make an impression."

"Ask Madge." Prim says.

"I can't ask Madge!"

My sister gives me a withering look. "Sure you can! She told me about all the dresses that she has, and that she wanted to get rid of some of them."

"Maybe," I shrug, still unsure, pushing the front door of our house open and dropping my bag by the floor.

"She won't mind, Katniss."

"I know, but you know how I feel about trading things," Prim rolls her eyes. "Anyway. I'm going hunting with Gale. See you later."

"Tell Gale I said hi!" Prim calls after me as I walk left towards the meadow. "And no climbing trees!"

The walk into the forest is quiet since such a large percentage of the forest is in hibernation. My boots crunch against the frost underfoot and echo on the areas of frozen ground. I meet Gale half way along the line of snares he's set up along a thin, winding animal track in the grass, his breath puffing out into the air.

"Hey," I greet him. He looks up, a reel of twine in between his lips and grunts a welcome. "How you doing?" I continue, slinging my quiver over my shoulder. Our relationship is still a little frosty, and it's not just because of the weather.

"I'm good," Gale says standing up and putting the twine into his pocket. "You?"

"Yeah, I'm alright at the moment."

"Well, since you're in such a good mood, do you want to try and shoot some birds?"

"If you're happy enough to join me, then yes," I say shortly, and we venture further into the forest, before doubling back and shooting as we walk back towards the fence. We chat quietly about mundane things as we move along, and Gale fills his hand with stones and pebbles as we walk.

"I can see something in the undergrowth," he stops me as we reach a small clearing.

"Bird?"

"Yup. Groosling," he reports as I begin drawing an arrow and ready my bow. Gale throws a stone into the bushes, and sure enough a brown dappled bird squawks and flies into the air. I take my shot and hit it.

"Ooo. You're a bit rusty, Catnip," Gale comments. I climb through the thorns to grab the bird. He's right. I hit the bird in the side, just below the wing.

"I haven't been out here for ages." I grumble in defence, though my absence from the woods isn't the only reason for my bad shot, hell a week away shouldn't effect it at all. It's my stomach growing faster and bigger seemingly every day getting in the way of my arm.

"Where the hell did you get that from?" Gale crows.

"Where did I get what?" I ask.

"That!" Gale says, walking over to me and looking at my hand. Shit.

"Oh that old thing?" I brush it off, yanking my hand away from his view.

"Old? I don't think so. How much did that cost?" Gale continues, grabbing my hand. "Christ!"

"It's an heirloom."

"Catnip, I know you're lying. I've never seen let alone heard of that thing before."

"I'm not lying." I say stubbornly, walking hurriedly away in the direction of the district boundaries.

"Then why is it on your left hand? Ring finger?" Gale asks. I stop. I turn. Gale is frowning, his eyes narrowed as he tries to figure me out.

"It's just the finger I put it on."

"Catnip-"

"It's not what you think."

"What am I supposed to be thinking?" he half asks, half demands. I bite my lip. "Are you getting married?" I look up at Gale. He laughs and then looks at me, his chortling cutting off when he sees I'm not joining in. "Tell me you're joking." He says gravely, looking about ready to kill something.

"I'm getting married," I announce with a short laugh, although there's nothing funny about this situation. Not anymore.

"What the hell, Catnip?" he exclaims, striding towards me.

"It's more complicated than you think," I start weakly. Gale is fuming, his hand tightening on my arm as if he's afraid I'm going to run. His fears are justified of course, considering my habit of fleeing situations I can't handle.

"More complicated?" he cries. "You're sixteen! What else aren't you telling me?"

That I'm just over four months pregnant with Peeta Mellark's child.

"Gale, just listen."

"Who is it?"

"Who's who?"

"Who are you marrying?"

I cross my arms over my chest in defiance. "I'm not telling you."

"Did he force you?" Gale growls.

"No, I agreed."

"It's Mellark. Isn't it?" he says, and I look up in shock and horror and amazement. How did he...? "I'm gonna kill him." Gale hisses, dropping his game bag and disappearing. I stand there, shoulders slumped as I stare at where he was standing just two seconds ago. And then the impact of what Gale is going to do hits me like a tonne of bricks. "Gale!" I shout into the trees. "Come back!"

Peeta

"Did you ask Katniss is she was coming round on Sunday?" Dad asks me as I hold the door open so he can get past with a sack of flour.

"I did," I nod, following him into the shop.

"She's coming, right?"

"Yes, she is."

"Fantastic!"

"Not really. Mom's gonna kill her," I say. Dad sighs heavily.

"If things get really bad, no one will blame you for leaving early," Dad says, pushing the flour sack onto a pile of others.

"Yeah, but Mom is just... Mom."

"I know, Peet. I know. But I'm sure Katniss can handle her," Dad pats me on the shoulder and smiles sadly. "Go help your brothers. I'm sure you'll get a grilling from them."

I nod and run up the stairs to leave my bag in my bedroom. Dad's right. Katniss has a sharp tongue and a steely resolve. I've seen her reduce someone to tears, and she didn't even touch them. Mom and she are going to have a match of who-can-insult-who across the dinner table. It's going to be great and terrifying at the same time.

A sickening sense of panic and fear sets in. I run my hands through my hair and flop down on my bed. What am I going to do? Over these past few months, I've tried to push all my feelings down. So now, I feel like my head is going to explode under the pressure. I've been worried about Katniss and the baby. I've been scared. I've been angry. I've been staying up all night just thinking. I don't know whom I can talk to. Who can I pour my heart out to? Where is the person that will understand all my concerns? Katniss has enough on her plate to contend with without the burden of an emotional fiancé, and I thought the pregnant woman was meant to be the hormonal one.

Fiancé. That word should make me smile, but all it does is make me feel worse. Yes, I'm thrilled that Katniss said yes, but now I'm worrying about actually getting married. If I'm not careful, the slightest thing will set me off, and I won't be able to stop. The punching bag outside is well overdue a visit.

All I want is someone to talk to. Mom is a no-go. Fenton and Rye are a possibility, but they're just sarcastic idiots. Dad tries to help, but he doesn't fully understand. Nobody understands. Nobody can help me to purge my anxiety from my head.

Lately I've been feeling like I'm out of place in my own body. The word hijacked comes to mind. Yes, I feel like I'm being controlled. The real Peeta would never have gotten the love of his life pregnant because he can't handle his alcohol. The real Peeta would've known that keeping all this worry pent up inside would result in not sleeping, barely eating. Barely living.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, I go back downstairs. It's no good mulling everything over in my head. It'll just make it worse. I've been trapped in my own head for weeks now, and all I need to do is focus on something else. Fen and Rye are already cutting and shaping dough when I get down to the kitchen. Fen looks up when I enter the room.

"How was your day?"

"Alright," I reply, washing my hands and tying an apron around my waist.

"How did the impromptu proposal go?" Rye asks, pushing a tray of cheese buns into the oven. We're baking as much as we can for the Saturday morning rush. Last week we didn't have enough cheese buns. I look down at the mix of flour and water I'm mixing and shrug my shoulders.

"Alright, I guess," I mumble, trying to sound down heartened. An awkward silence fills the room. Fen clears his throat.

"What did Katniss say?" Rye asks warily.

"She said yes," I say, looking up at my brothers. They exchange relieved glances having not looked forward to comforting me if everything went wrong.

"Way to go little brother!" Fen laughs, clapping my on the shoulder.

"Fen's jealous," Rye singsongs. "He thought he was the one to get married first...You've beaten him to it."

Fen pulls Rye into a headlock and wrestles him to the ground. "He's beaten you too," Fen reminds his younger brother before letting him go. We fall into a comfortable silence for a minute or two before Rye speaks up.

"When are you planning on telling people?"

"I don't know," I admit. "I can tell that Katniss is scared, though she tries to hide it."

"People will find out eventually."

"I know." I whisper, looking down.

"Are you happy?" Fen asks. "I mean, if this had happened to me when I was sixteen, I don't know what I would've done."

"I would have freaked out," Rye adds. I pause for a moment before answering.

I measure out a cup of flour and scowl at the numbers printed on the side of the container. "To be honest, I'm terrified. Happy? Yeah, I guess. But I know Katniss isn't."

"She agreed to marry you, Peet. If she wasn't at least a little bit happy I'm sure she wouldn't agree... You're a good guy Peeta. I think she knows that," Fen says quietly.

"This is my fault," I mutter. "I've made her have to do this. She wasn't even invited to that party but, of course I had to convince her to come anyway. And then we got drunk... and... and…" I trail off.

"And the rest is history."

"I'm sure you'll be alright in the end Peet," my oldest brother says, leaning against the doorway as he waits for the oven timer to go off. "You'll see."

I damn well hope so. Fen smiles at me and I frown in return. I can feel the fear inside me growing, bubbling and morphing into pure anger.

"Katniss seems alright, and you two are both smart." Rye says.

I clench my fists. Calm down! I think to myself. Losing it will just make it worse!

"And you'll always have Dad and us two," Fen points between Rye and himself, oblivious to the rage filling me. I grit my teeth. "You'll be fine."

"What are you trying to tell me, Fen?" I explode, losing the strength to curb my anger. Fen's eyes widen and Rye puts the trays he's holding down on the countertop. I scrub my face with my hands. "Are you trying to tell me that this whole situation will be forgotten? That people will move on?" I take a step forward and Fen pushes himself upright from his position against the doorframe. Both of them look a little wary of me, and I'm not surprised. I'm always the peacemaker, never the one to instigate a fight or want to cause trouble. This is completely out of character.

"We're sixteen! Sixteen! And I knocked her up," I flex my fingers. "Our lives are set in stone now. I can't leave her, because if I do she'll have to raise my child by herself! How can anyone in their right mind get over that? I will have to see her, every single day, attached to me because of what I did to her! She can't live her own life any more, Fen. And you're telling me everything is going to be alright?"

My hand connects with the plaster wall beside me before I can even register what I'm doing. The paint and plaster board cracks with a satisfying 'crunch' sound, leaving a splintered dent in the wall the size of my fist. The entire room is silent. Mom is gonna kill me too, not just Katniss.

"Okay, whoa." Rye says, stepping forward, his arms stretched out. Fen looks bewildered. He's getting yelled at by his sixteen-year-old brother. "Peeta, buddy, I think you need to calm down."

"Shut up!" I shout, clutching at my head as a thousand different voices scream at me. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" I chant, dropping to the floor into a crouch, my head in my hands. Fen and Rye walk over to me, crouching beside me as I slump against the wall, my chest heaving. "I'm sorry." I mumble, feeling embarrassed as tears fall down my cheeks.

"It's nothing," Fen brushes it off. "You must be stressed out."

"I just don't know what to do." I whisper.

"You'll figure it out when you get there," Fen says, his hands clasped together. Both my brothers don't know quite how to comfort their younger brother. I've always been closer to my father, and Rye and Fen are like best friends. We've never been super close or anything. I squeeze my eyes shut and drop my head back against the whitewashed wall behind me. I take a deep breath.

"You should... err... go and man the shop," I say. "It's not like Mom's going to." Rye places a consoling hand on my arm. They take my not-so-subtle hint to give me some space and leave the room. Fen takes the liberty of shutting the heavy fire door firmly.

I open my eyes and stare at the red square tiles on the floor. I sigh, push myself up and scrub my face with my hands. Rye and Fen can be heard, muffled but undoubtedly laughing with my father, the till ringing as they exchange money with a customer. I can't believe that I shouted at Fen like that. He was only trying to help.

The last time I shouted at either of my brothers as loudly and angrily as that was a few years ago, when Rye convinced me that I should start shaving. I was twelve. I had taken him seriously and ended up cutting my face with the sharp razor blade. And then, when I ran into his room crying, he told me that I should put aftershave on. I complied. But it the liquid in the bottle wasn't aftershave. Rye had switched it to the colouring we use for icing. It stained your fingers like crazy. Rye switched it to blue dye.

Blue.

Bright blue.

I looked like an alien. Rye, of course, found it hilarious when I came into the bakery half an hour later with blue skin. I was blue skinned for an entire week. Let's just say Mom was just as pleased as I was.

I'm brought out of my thoughts when the back door of the bakery – where Katniss normally trades with my father or I – swings open and crashes into the wall, rattling jars and bottles and cans all around the room. I spin around, a shout of 'what the hell?' on the tip of my tongue, when Gale Hawthorne bursts into the kitchen, looking like hell personified.

"What the fuck did you do to her?" he yells at the top of his lungs, eyes blazing.

"Wha-" I stutter.

"Tell me!" he interrupts, striding across the kitchen in four strides and pinning me up against the wall, the front of my shirt bunched up in his fists. "Did you force her?"

"Calm the hell down!" I exclaim, holding my hands up in the air in a defensive gesture. "What are you talking about?"

"Katniss! She's marrying you? Why?" Gale spits, his eyes wild.

"I haven't forced her to do anything!" I say. "I would never force her- anyone- to do that. She agreed to it! I asked and she said yes!"

This seems to throw Gale off course for a moment and his grey Seam eyes widen. His face is inches from mine and he's at least three inches taller than me. This combined with the fact that he's angrier than I ever thought a person could be, my words come out garbled, like an old woman. They still ring out loud and clear for Gale to hear, however.

"But she wouldn't do that," Gale whispers bitterly. "She told me… She said she never wanted to get married." He looks up at me.

"Talk to her, Gale."

"No," he growls, tightening his grip on my shirt. "You tell me, Mellark."

"I really think you should ask Katniss…"

"No. I want to hear it from you," Gale laughs, though there's no happiness to the sound. I glance at the back door where snowflakes are wafting inside, and then at the door leading to the shop, and then back at the very angry Seam kid holding me against the wall. I decide to stay put. "I'm waiting."

"Why are you making me say it?"

"Because I want to hear it from the idiot she's marrying."

"I'm sure that if you just asked her-"

"Tell me the truth," Gale says, his eyes narrowed and his jaw set. "I know that she wouldn't marry you, out of love." I look down, my heart clenching. "You know that isn't why." Gale continues. "So, tell me the reason."

"Ask Katniss." I say firmly. I do not want to have this conversation, not when Katniss and I haven't talked about it.

"I'm going to have to get it out of you, one way or another."

I exhale and squeeze my eyes shut. I make my decision, without Katniss. "It wasn't her fault," I begin. Gale frowns. "I never meant to hurt her, or put her in this position…"

"What do you mean?" he questions, shaking my collar and glaring at me. "If you've so much as touched her, or- or- or hurt her, you'll be sorry."

"Katniss, she and I will be pariahs if we don't get married," I say hurriedly. "People will start to talk if she has a kid, but isn't married."

Gale takes a step back, releasing me from his grip. He stumbles backwards a couple of steps, his mouth open in surprise. "What did you just say?!"

"What?" I repeat in confusion. What the fuck is going on?

"She's pregnant?"

This is the worst that could have ever happened. She hasn't told her hunting partner? Oh, fuck. I'm in deep shit now. "I thought you knew!" I exclaim. "I thought Katniss had told you and you didn't believe her!"

"With your kid," Gale mumbles, locking his jaw. "You… and she… and you…" He trails off and his eyes lock on my face. I don't think I've ever seen someone so angry.

"You bastard!" he roars, launching himself forward and knocking me backwards. "You knocked her up!" I push him back, my hands on his shoulders and barely have enough time to regain my balance when Gale's fist connects with my jaw.

I've been hit many times by my mother and adapted so that I can now barely feel the pain I should normally feel. I would never hit a woman in retaliation, but this fight is in a whole new domain, since it's not even a brotherly fight that isn't aiming for anyone to actually get hurt. I go for a punch in the older boy's stomach and catch him off guard when I grab his arm and twist it backwards instead, the joints in his elbow making a clicking sound. He yells out and I pull his arm further.

"This isn't Katniss' fault!" I shout desperately, trying to get my words out before Gale figures out how to get out of my arm lock.

"Damn right it isn't!" Gale hisses through gritted teeth.

"It was a drunken mistake and I wish it had never happened."

Gale's shoulder's slump, but I know that this fight isn't over. I've wrestled since I was eleven, and having two older brothers teaches you not to give in. Gale twists around and tries to kick me in the stomach, but I jump out of the way before he can touch me.

"Oh… You want to play dirty? Huh?" he laughs. His arm swings round for another hit but takes me off-guard when he switches arms at the last moment a punches me in the stomach. I move my bare fists up to cover my face. Gale lashes out again, and we tussle from a few seconds, none of us really getting anywhere.

"Gale! Get off him!" A loud, hysterical voice cries. Katniss bursts into the room through the door Gale came from, skidding on the slippery tiles by the doorway before regaining her balance and rushing towards us and attempting to pull Gale off me. He pushes her out of the way and she stumbles backwards, catching herself on the kitchen table.

"Gale!" she shouts, pulling at the back of Hawthorne's shirt and yanking. But it's useless. She locks eyes with me and my chest physically hurts at the anguish in her eyes, at the unsaid apology that lies there. She turns and hauls the fire door open, disappearing down the corridor. Where is she going?

And then I hear her shouts of help from the corridor, yelling for my brothers to help.