Chapter 3

The Brother

…

"Ahhh," I screech, turning away from Marcus which causes him to laugh even harder.

"You're so innocent," he says, "It's like you've never seen someone's cock, but from what I know Peeta says otherwise."

"No, I'm not innocent. And whose genitals I have or haven't seen isn't any of your business," I retort angrily, "Now put on some pants for god sakes."

Hearing him laugh even louder than before, he snatched the pair of sweatpants from my hands. As he slipped on the pants I heard the rustling of cloths and a few exasperated grunts before the room behind me fell silent and I heard Marcus say, "You can look now Kitty, my manhood is out of eyesight."

Turning to see Marcus dressed in the pair of sweatpants he had taken from me I punch him playfully in his good shoulder.

"Ow," he says, "What was that for?"

"For being an ass," I say gathering his sling and shirt in my hands, "Now sit down and set me get this sling on you before you screw your shoulder up even more." Silently obeying Marcus sat down on the edge of the sink's counter allowing me to pull his t-shirt over him subsequent following me setting him arm up into the sling contraption for his shoulder.

Fastening the velcro pulls and straps of Marcus's sling he grunted in irritation and possibly pain. "Sorry," I mumbled making sure his arm was positioned correctly.

"It's okay," he said gritting his teeth, "My fault anyway I got my arm screwed up like this."

Just nodding my head, we didn't talk any further subject of the supposed bar fight Marcus go into or anything dealing with that night. Helping Marcus up, I shut off the bathroom lights before we made our way to the kitchen. Once in the kitchen Marcus took a seat at the counter while I began to make some grill cheese sandwiches for us. Flipping the sandwiches on the grill Marcus said, "You know, you're good at this," as he handed me a beer. "This," I said questioned taking a sip from my beer. "Yeah, this," Marcus said waving his good arm in a circular motion, "Taking care of people, cooking, being nice when one shouldn't be, cleaning, exedra, exedra. You're really good at the whole… mothering thing, you're a natural. It's another reason no wonder Peeta wants to settle down with you, you'll be a great mom."

"Mh hmm," I say as I flip Marcus's grill cheese onto a plate cutting it in half before sliding it over toward him.

"You're still not sold on the whole kid, mom thing are you?"

I shake my head.

"The whole marriage thing is still I messed up in my mind. I'm sure I'll say yes to Peeta, I love him. I hate when he's not around and when he is around everything is better. He's all I got; he's my everything and so much more. I would marry Peeta but… but kids. I don't want to have kids and have them end up like me." Marcus looks up at me. "Like you? You make it sound like it's something bad, like there's something wrong with you." That's was when unexpectedly my hand slammed against the counter. "There is… It was awful Marcus, something a child should never have to experience," I nearly scream, "My mom was never there after my dad died and… and I was left to take care of Prim. Shit, I was eleven. And I did everything I could for Prim so her life was semi-decent, but supposedly that wasn't enough. God, and me- me I'm fucked… I ran away when the man who is willing to marry told me he loved me five years ago and since I haven't been always been the most emotionally stable nor best person in the world. Shit. Shit. Shit."

I don't realize what is happening till I see Marcus standing in front of me with my jacket in hand. "Put it on," he demands and without question I do. Once I have my jacket on and my shoes laced up and have helped Marcus with his own we are walking out of his apartment building. A few blocks away from his apartment I ask, "Where are we going?"

"To The Third Pint," he says, "It's a cheap yet outstandingly, fantastic bar a few blocks away."

Nodding my head I ask another question. "Why?"

At this Marcus smiles wrapping his good arm around my shoulder. "Many reasons, but basically because we both need a night off," he says, "Since you found the ring you have been over edge. And whenever you talk to Peeta I can see you falling apart, dying to tell him you know. It's like you have been rethinking everything when everything is going quite swell I must say. So I figured we'd get a few drinks and if that doesn't get you out of this funk I figured if you got a few shots in me I might tell you about the bar fight I into. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Looking to him I poke him in the ribs, "Sounds like a night."

…

Rolling over my body came in contact with something hard yet soft and warm. Groaning in distress as the massive hangover I had pounded against my skull I opened my eyes to see myself lying beside Marcus under the twisted sheets of the bed. Nearly letting out a blood curdling scream I shuffled backwards in fear till I fell off the bed and onto the floor. My heading pounding and heart racing I brought my arms up to wrap them around my chest only to find myself without a shirt on. Quickly being to freak out even more so I pressed my left palm to my temple as I watched Marcus rolled out of the bed. On his feet Marcus looked around the room till his eyes laid on me cowering in the cover against the wall parallel to him. "Katniss," he asked cautiously stepping toward me.

"What- what happ- happened last n- night?" I stuttered out afraid of what the answer may be.

"We-," Marcus began only to stop himself as he had to think of what actually had happened last night.

After a long minute Marcus began to speak again. "I suggested we go out for drinks because you were stressing out over Peeta and the ring and that whole ordeal. So we went down to The Third Pint where we had a few drinks before meeting up with... No, we ran into Beetee and Wiress from my work. After a few shots I think we were… Yeah, we were cut off so we- so we then went down to Dead Dog Saloon a few blocks down… We had a few more drinks and some wings. Then- and then…" Finding himself drawing a blank Marcus removed his hand from his forehead and reached into his pants pocket. After a moment he pulled out his phone along with a small slip of paper from his pocket. Watching as he read the paper his eyes flickered to me in dread. "And I have a receipt for the purchase of one large tattoo from Mike's Tats & Piercings."

"You got a tattoo," I ask pleading it wasn't me. But to my disappointment he shook his head no biting on his lower lip as he pointed to my side.

Lifting up my right arm revealed a substantially large tattoo of a tribal arrow down along my right ribcage. The feathered tail of the arrow began midway along my ribcage between my shoulder and elbow. Then arrow 's shaft went down along a diagonal across my skin for about a good three or four inches before becoming to a fade halt. Inches from where the tattoo halted I ran my fingers over the remnants of what remained from the scars I had received from years ago during the car crash that has caused Prim's death. Across the scars the arrow started up again spanning about three more inches till the shaft met the head of the arrow. The arrows head was scratchily shaded in where it ended at the bottom of my rib cage. Just grazing the fingertips of my left hand over the arrow I recognized along the tip of the shaft near the head of the arrow was written Wade followed two years and nearing the tail of the arrows was written Prim followed by two years. The names written were the ones I had lost and the dates written was the time in which they had lived and the arrow was the numerous shots that life had taken me but yet never had exactly shot to kill.

As my arm lowered down from above my head I wrapped it around my waist. I got a tattoo. I got a tattoo that showed all my flaws, all my weaknesses, and all my worst nightmares. Clutching my arms tighter than humanly possible around my chest I didn't care about the pain I felt. It hurt, killed, but it felt good. Feeling the tears begin to cascade over my eyelids and down my cheeks I felt something soft and warm wrap around me. Looking up, blinking through the tears I watched as Marcus sat himself down beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder, rubbing up and down my trying to calm me, he allowed me to rest my head on his shoulder.

"God why are you getting so damn emotional over a freakin' tattoo," he said in a shaky sarcastic tone, "I mean what the hell is going to happen when Peeta ask you to marry him?"

Laughing at Marcus semi-failed attempt to make me feel better I jabbed my hand against his chest. "You suck," I muttered.

"I know," he said laughing in response, "But you love me anyway."

…

Finishing wrapping the bandage around my ribcage, I buttoned the lower half of my flannel shirt. Five o'clock, time to go. Making my way out of Marcus's spare bedroom I found myself in the apartment's living room in search of Marcus. I had to say goodbye to my favorite, well tied for second best, Mellark. About to call out I felt something tap me on the shoulder. Spinning around I saw Marcus standing in front of me his good arm spread open out in front of him.

"Give your brother-to-be a hug," he said wiping his head back in a dramatic manner as if he was doing a hair flip. Letting out a childish laugh I wrapped my arms around his torso and he wrapped his left arm around my back.

"You know this may be the last time I see you alive," I say against his chest.

"I'm sure we'll see each other again," he laughed giving me a squeeze, "Don't worry, I don't think Peety is one to beat up a cripple. And if he does come for me just give me a heads up would ya so I can call up Cinna to guard the front door."

Hearing a snort come from across the room Cinna's voice followed. "I've seen your brother, Marcus, and he doesn't look like a kid to be reckoned with when pissed."

"Fuck you," Marcus called back.

"Fuck you? You know I gladly would," Cinna responded plopping himself down on the couch, "But I think Portia would get pissed about that. I mean you being her boyfriend or friends-with-benefits or whatever the hell you two are and she being my sister, just wouldn't be right."

Hysterically laughing so much that my stomach began to cramp, I pulled away from Marcus's hug trying to calm myself. When my frenetic laughter finally subsided I leaned over picking my duffle bag up off the floor beside the front door. With a firm grip I slung the bag over my shoulder.

"I got to go."

"You better come around more often," he said with a devious smile.

"I think it'll be a while before I return," I snorted, "But I'll call." Nodding his head I stepped toward the open door. "Bye Cinna," I called out across the room.

Giving me a slight wave of the hand he smiled, "Cya around Katniss." And then I was out the door back to Naval Cove.