I'm Coming, Baby Girl

By everlark4ever75

Chapter One

It must be midnight, it must be tomorrow when Haymitch pushes open the door. "They're back. We're wanted in the hospital." My mouth opens with a flood of questions that he cuts me off with "That's all I know."

I want to run, but Finnick's acting so strange, as if he's lost the ability to move, so I take his hand and lead him like a small child. Through Special Defence, into the lift that goes this way and that, and on to the hospital wing. The place is in an uproar, with doctors shouting orders and the wounded being wheeled through the halls in their beds.

We're sideswiped by a gurney beating an unconscious, emaciated young woman with a shaved head. Her flesh shows bruises and oozing scabs. Johanna Mason. Who actually knew rebel secrets. At least the one about me. And this is how she has paid for it.

Through a doorway, I catch a glimpse of Gale, stripped to the waist, perspiration streaming down his face as a doctor remove something from under his shoulder blade with a long pair of tweezers. Wounded, but alive. I call his name, start towards him until a nurse pushes me back and shuts me out.

"Finnick!" Something between a shriek and a cry of joy. A lovely if somewhat bedraggled young woman – dark hair tangled, sea green eyes – runs towards us in nothing but a sheet. "Finnick!" And suddenly, it's as if there's not one in the world by these two, crashing through space to reach each other. They collide, enfold, lose their balance and slam against a wall, where they stay. Clinging to one being. Indivisible.

A pang of jealousy hits me. Not for either Finnick or Annie but for their certainty. No one seeing them could doubt their love.

Boggs, looking a little bit worse for wear but uninjured, finds Haymitch and me. "We got them all out. Except Enobaria. But since she's from Two, we doubt she's being held anyway. Peeta's at the end of the hall. The effects of the gas are just wearing off. You should be there when he wakes."

Peeta.

Alive and well – maybe not well but alive and here. Away from Snow. Safe. Here. With me. In a minute I can touch him. See his smile. Hear his laugh.

Haymitch's grinning at me. "Come on, then," he says.

I'm light-headed with giddiness. What will I say? Oh, who cares what I say? Peeta will be ecstatic no matter what I do. He'll probably be kissing me anyway. I wonder if it'll feel like those last kisses on the beach, in the arena, the ones I haven't dared let myself consider until this moment.

Peeta's awake already, sitting on the side of the bed, looking bewildered as a trio of doctors reassure him, flash lights in his eyes, check his pulse. I'm disappointed that mine was not the first face he saw when he woke, but he sees it now. His features register disbelief and something more intense that I can't quite place. Desire? Desperation? Surely both, for he sweeps the doctors aside, leaps to his feet and moves towards me. I run to meet him, my arms extended to embrace him. His hands are reaching for me, too, to caress my face, I think.

My lips are forming his name when his fingers lock around my throat.

I'm blown back to the floor with a loud thud and a rumble throughout my whole body from the contact. Pain radiates from the places where the heavy impact from Peeta's body resting against mine. His hands are tight around my windpipe and my eyes are wide as I start at him. I'm breathless, not in the way I wished I would be when I saw Peeta again. I'm literally breathless. I make a choking noise and it feels like hours before people try and restrain Peeta from off my body. But, he's too strong and he pushes them away like they are an autumn leaves in late autumn. There's a small space in time when both of his hands aren't trying to strangle the life out of me, that's when I try to suck in as much air as I can.

What is going on with him? I ask myself. He should be kissing me, not killing me.

At this moment, I don't care if he kills me. It seems like he finally came to his senses about how much of a horrible and selfish person I am. But, it's not just me he's killing. It'll kill him when he realises what's going on and what he did, if he ever does. And then the baby. His baby. Our baby. The one who is currently between the two of us. As his other hand comes back around to my neck and tries to take away my last gasps for air. But, I hold onto them before he can take them from me. I use them to try and stop him, hoping whatever it is taking him over can reach it.

"Peeta…" I breathe, half my air gone.

"Shut up!" He screams.

I see the light around my sights, but mine is only on Peeta's face. To see if I see a flicker to the real Peeta.

"The baby…"

His face goes soft, I swear his hands loosen, but I'm too far gone to notice anything other than the flicker. The pain, hurt, concern, wonder, confusion inside his usually crystal blue eyes.

:-:

I'll live, they tell me. The baby's unharmed, they inform me. Peeta's deranged nature is from something they call a hijacking, they update me. They change the memories of me into those when he fears, needing to protect himself from me. Using tracker jacker venom, it targets the part of the brain which houses fear. They think they showed him videos and picture of me which were distorted, showing me as the enemy and not his lover. And the mother of his child.

"After you said the baby, it set him off as soon as you were out, sweetheart." Haymitch recalls for me, sitting on the edge of my bed.

I can't speak from the injuries to my neck from Peeta's hands. I want to ask questions, but Haymitch seems to know them before I can even try. We're too alike I fear.

"He was shouting and asking what you meant. The doctors came and got you when I was holding him back, I refused to get him knocked out until I knew if it was only you who set him off like that. When they were lifting you up and Peeta was spitting words at me, his eyes went to your stomach. Your shirt had lifted, showing off how swollen and covered in stretch marks it was. And that made him go crazy. The same questions, just louder and his whole body trying to get out of my restrains. 'Was she pregnant during the Quell?' 'Whose baby is it?' 'Who's the father?' 'Is Gale the father?' 'Is this some kind of trick?'. He was out of control, he pushed me aside and tried to reach you as they were wheeling you back out. Then Boggs came in and knocked him out before I could even think about doing it. I never wanted to do it, I love you and him too much to hurt you. Even if it was for the best."

I sit back, confused beyond belief.

He'd forgotten what we did after the Quell was announced? I certainly didn't and never would.

-Flashback-

After I spoke to Haymitch about asking him to save Peeta and letting me die in that arena, I had one sip of the horrible liquid and left. I thought maybe I should take a bottle with me and drown my sorrows away, but I'm not like Haymitch. I am in some ways, but I know that drinking is just a temporary fix for pain, which Haymitch has made his whole life. I don't want to become reliant on alcohol like he is, even if it's just for a few months, before I'm sent to my death… again. On my way back towards my house, Peeta was sitting on a bench in the middle of the gardens separating our houses, waiting for me. Peeta rises from the bench and walked straight to me. Tear streaks are half dried down my face and my hand was sore from smashing open the window in the vacant house. Before I could protest about him coming over to me, his arms were around me, tight and allowing my wall to fall, the same with my tears. I sobbed loud, suffocating and wet, tears drenching Peeta's jacket. My arms come around and held onto his shoulders, hoping that could help me from falling down. Peeta murmurs things into my hair, but he can't say anything. There's nothing left to say. It's over. And in a few short months, I'm going to be dead after being thrown into the arena again. I have three months to live, then I leave everything and everyone that I love behind me. Three months, I thought.

Suddenly with that thought, I stop my crying, my tears drying up, my sobs slowly disappearing. Peeta realising this and let's his tightened grip loosen, letting my body move to stand toe-to-toe with Peeta. I let my hands move from the strong grip against the top of his shoulders to around his neck, cupping his soft cheeks softly. His mouth opens to speak, eyes dropping to our shoes and I take the opportunity to silence his pleas with my mouth. His lips are hot, soft and firm against mine. I think he's going to push me away straight away, but his lips move with mine for a moment, instinct I think. I feel sparks throughout my body and it makes me softly gasp against his lips when his hands on my waist push me closer to his body, no space between us aside from our clothes. I feel a hunger, one I have only felt once before and it isn't for food. A hunger which only Peeta seems to make me feel, the feeling I felt inside the dark cave.

As if taken from a trance, Peeta pulls back and blows out a deep, shaky breath before he rests his fore head against my own.

"Katniss, what are you doing?"

"Kissing you." I reply, breathless and insides on fire.

"That's not what I mean." His voice soft, hurt almost.

I now let out a deep breath and I tangle my fingers into Peeta's hair and tug a little, feeling it's one of the things keeping me here.

"I have three months to live, Peeta. I want to enjoy a small amount of it."

Peeta's head shakes against mine.

"No. I have three months. You're coming back to your family."

Now I shake my head. He needs to stop trying to save me and sacrifice himself for someone like me. I'm nothing but bad luck and a good shot with a bow.

Minutes pass of silence and deep shaky breaths, then I say, gathering up all of courage I can muster.

"Fine. We're both going to kill ourselves to save the other. For now, let's stop that and let it just be us."

Peeta pulls me back, looking me into the eyes and searching for something. I don't know what. His breathing his even shakier and he licks his lips.

"What about Gale, Katniss?"

Gale… I was for sure that he would be the easy option for a future, starting off friends and developing into something else. But, I can't think about anything other than how Peeta's kiss in the cave feels so much different than the one that I shared with Gale. Peeta and I have shared many kisses since that first one in the Games, but none have left me feeling the way kissing Peeta does. I don't know what caused me to make this instant decision, but Peeta is who I choose. I don't want Gale when I know I have a stirring inside which only happens when I kiss the boy with the bread.

"Gale isn't who I want. I want you."

Peeta's eyes flicker with confusion. I know he knew I picked Gale after the whipping. He knows that Gale was the one that I was thinking about making a life with, a life I will now never have. In another world, Gale and I would have probably gotten married and had kids. But instead I'm going back into the Arena and I'm not coming back out. Peeta is, I will die to make that happen. Peeta deserves the life of a Victor with the whole wife and kids package which some other Merchant girl can give him. But for now, I'm going to be selfish. I want him, I want Peeta in a way I never have before, right now on this night.

"Katniss… I'm not going to do something you aren't certain you want to do also."

I pull his face down to mine, closing the gap between us for a second and leaving a lingering and fire starting kiss upon his lips.

"I've never been more certain." I breathe against his lips, hoping he'll take my offer.

As quickly as I can shoot an arrow in a squirrel's eye, Peeta's lips are back on mine and he is lifting me up, my legs wrapping around his waist and pulling me tight against him. Our lips and movements are frenzied and trying to take in as much as we could in the small amount of time we had, the night, three months.

By the time morning rose, our baby had been created.

-End of Flashback-

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I didn't tell him anything, that's something you need to do yourself. Maybe when he realises it's his, he might snap out of it. He must have forgotten you told him about the baby before the Games. That he did bring it up to all of Panem just to try and stop them."

I close my eyes, trying to show him that I understand what he means. I hope that happens, I can't bare not having my Peeta, especially with his baby growing inside my womb. It was always obvious he'd be the perfect father before, I just hope he can be around mentally to see it. And I'm just as sad that he has forgotten I'd told him about it in the first place. That night, we were both so vulnerable, I'm surprised that he could have forgotten.

"They have him in lockdown. Only medical staff are allowed to see him at the moment. Tomorrow, I think I'm going to go and see him. Want to try and straight some things out and see if there's any other triggers aside from you."

The same signal again from me.

"We had to tell them about his family, how they didn't make it. So, he's in a bad shape from that as well. Everything for him is different, the people he knew, they aren't the same if not here anymore. It's going to be hard for him to come back from this. So, we just gotta give him time to process this as well as try and tell him about Junior again, see if it makes anything click that he already knew."

I give him the same signal, feeling useless to just be lying here and doing nothing to help him. But, I've got to rest. For the sake of my baby and my body's health.

Haymitch gets up from the bed, advancing towards me and grabbing my hand. He squeezes it and I squeeze it back. He leans over and presses a soft kiss to my brow, leaving his head against mine for a few extra moments, the only bit of comfort I'm sure to get for a while.

"Rest up, sweetheart." He whispers.

He steps back from me, but still lingers. His hand reaches out and lays softly against my stomach. I feel movement and it almost makes me groan. Haymitch smiles something small and almost undetectable if you weren't looking for it.

"Once he knows the baby is his, he'll have to come back. I have a feeling he will. Even though his mind is like scrambled eggs, he'll care and love the baby as soon as he knows it's his. It's just…"

"Peeta…" I croak out.

He smirks and rubs my stomach a little bit before pulling his hand away.

"I'll come by whenever there's news." He promises.

I signal him in a thanks, then he's gone. And I'm alone again.

:-:

Within two weeks, my neck and throat as healed up and I can speak, I'm just croaky. Peeta hasn't shown any new improvements and Haymitch has gone each day. Today, I'm going in. I don't know what to expect, only the million questions about the baby, our baby. I got a recent print out of the baby, seeing how far it's come from the first picture. I carry each picture I've had taken of the baby since I got back here. I put them in my pocket, thinking it was a closer tie to Peeta than just the baby growing inside. I have a real piece of him inside me, but the pictures almost convinced me daily that he was with me. As well as the locket and pearl, more ties to my boy with the bread.

As I'm getting ready in my compartment, it's quiet because Mum and Prim are off following their schedules, while mines just ignored ink on my arm. I pull over my white singlet, letting my curves fill it out and show how pregnant I really am. Over six months. Twenty-five weeks and in almost out of my second trimester. I could have found out the gender of the baby by now, but unless Peeta wants to know, it's going to remain a secret until I give birth. Bruises from Peeta's fingers are present on my neck, purple, yellow and some parts almost blue. These marks aren't the ones from Peeta which I like. After Peeta and I made love that night, he left three large love bites, which he was proud of when he saw them the next day. I gave him one back to mark him as mine.

-Flashback-

When his thrusts are getting sloppy, fast and hard, my nails are digging into his shoulders, sure to leave more marks. With the growing passion and the building heat and friction between us, it's getting unbearable to keep quiet for both of us. I sink my teeth into his shoulder and let out a scream, hoping it is muffled enough it doesn't carry across the street. Peeta groans and hisses, before doing the same thing to me, sure to leave more bruises aside from the love bites across my neck. I moan out his name and start gasping, trying to take in air.

"Peeta!"

He groans, burying his head in my neck and nibbling against my skin as our skin starts to slap and the bed hitting against the wall. Trying to keep quiet is never going to happen. I wouldn't be surprised if they couldn't hear us already from the other side of the street.

-End of Flashback-

I bite my lip to keep from my horny urges which seem to have been happening recently. Mum told me to expect it, even though I didn't want to hear such a thing from her. I run my hands down my stomach, breathing deeply to compose myself. I pick up a long-sleeved shirt from the bed and throw it over my head, also adjusting it so it's flashing my curves. I put my hand into the pocket against my thigh to make sure the picture, pearl and locket are still there. When I'm satisfied, I take a deep breath and walk away from the mirror. I'm breaking the dress code by not throwing over the grey long-sleeved shirt, but I don't care. Today, I need to show Peeta the baby, tell him it's his and hope that it brings him back to me. I'm going to try everything. I need Peeta. I don't know how I would cope being a single mother in this world, almost widower if his mind stayed absent. I run a hand over my braid and I walk away from the mirror and out of the compartment, heading to the hospital.

I get there and Haymitch is already there, waiting and talking to the doctors. They tell me that they have a morphine line if he goes out of control and guards will be right outside and ready to pounce at a seconds notice. They aren't going to take any chances with this, especially with the baby. I don't care. I just need to get to Peeta inside and hope that he can start coming back to me, to us. Haymitch asks me to put in an earpiece, I oblige. But, I tell him,

"Don't speak to me unless you need too. I don't need any distractions. I need to get to him." "Okay." He promises.

I take a deep breath and Haymitch places a hand on my shoulder before I walk towards where the door is to Peeta's room, observation place more like. I nod at the guard and he gives me a sympathetic look with his eyes before he opens it. I step inside and let my eyes look at Peeta.

He's thin, having lost weight and all the muscle he had from training before the Quell. His facial structure is more pronounced from the lack of fatty tissue over it, unlike mine from eating enough for two, my face being almost like a balloon and I know it's going to get worse. He's tied down against the bed and attached to all of these different machines, I see the morphing drip and shutter thinking it might have to be used. His eyes are dark, but blue, dark from the lack of sleep, same as me. He's calmer than I thought. His eyes aren't looking into mine, but to my protruding stomach.

"Hi." I say.

"Hi." Voice hard and strained.

"I know you have questions. I'll answer whatever you want."

I hear Haymitch start to speak in my ear and I shoot a glare at the mirror which he stands behind, his voice stops. I look back to Peeta and he looks semi-relieved at what I said, but face still hard.

"You're pregnant?" He asks bluntly.

I scoff and instinctively place my hands on either side of my stomach.

"Yeah. I thought I was just getting fat." I try and joke.

His eyes are vacant, but he's not showing any violent tendencies. And doesn't react to my joke. If Johanna was here, she'd be cackling.

What have they done since now to make him so calm? Must be Haymitch. I think.

"Who's is it? Is it Gale's?" He asks.

I shake my head. I know that he's going to flip out in a second. So, I take a step towards him and he presses further into the bed.

"Peeta, I'm not going to hurt you." I say tentatively.

"Snow says everything that comes out of your mouth is a lie." He sneers.

"Do you really believe that?" I ask.

He looks taken aback, but doesn't say anything else. I take another step, but he doesn't move again. He's starting to trust. If not me, Haymitch. But in this moment, he seems to trust me. I go for the chair next to his bed, I grab the back of it.

"Do you mind?"

"No." His voice small.

"Thanks."

I take a seat and sigh.

"My feet are puffed up like cinnamon buns." I say, putting them up against a piece of railing under his bed.

The side of his lip twitches up and I look down and smile widely, biting my lip. I look back up, hope in my eyes and his not as weary.

"Can I try something?" I ask, seeing his hand limp against the bed.

He searches my face for something, not finding it.

"Depends. What?"

"You always found my touch soothing. I want to see if you feel it too. Remember that I'm not going to hurt you."

Haymitch starts babbling about in my ear and I just shoot another glare and ignore his continuing words. Peeta stiffens a little bit and then looks up to the plain roof, eyes now closed tight. He's thinking hard, I think trying to find that part of him again. He must find nothing, but still opens up his hand for me, palm up. I gently take his hand in mine, looking at his face to see any reaction. When nothing happens, I start rubbing my thumb over the top of his hand. His hand is the same, a bit softer than it was before. Probably from not working with his hands for so long, but they are still the same, filling with warmth and callused.

"Am I hurting you?" I whisper.

His head shakes and his head turns to face me and I see somewhat relief on his face and in his eyes.

"Katniss, am I the father?"

I look him deep in the eyes and can see the hope, the old Peeta hope, seeing how he does want his baby to be his. It's his lucky day.

"Yes." I confirm.

He lets out a shaky breath and his eyes close. Not the reaction I was expecting, he seems relieved. I was expecting hate, swearing, accusations, everything. But, nothing. Just him taking in the information that he has a child on the way. I look down, seeing my stomach pressing my growing breasts up and shocking me from how exposed to the world they are at this moment.

"Katniss?"

I look up instantly, ignoring my flashing breasts especially the aching need to have his callused hands rubbing them.

"Mm."

"Can you leave?" It's not really a question, a demand, a need to take the information in.

I don't want to let go or get up, I don't want to leave his side. But, I know I need too. I nod my head, putting on a fake small smile. I get up, dreading to let go of his hand. I do and I step away from him and walk towards the door.

"Katniss?" He says again.

I turn around, hoping he's going to ask me to stay, but I know he's not. I'm too full of hope.

"Your boobs are out of control."

I smirk, shaking my head.

"I know. Your child is doing this to me."

I turn around before I can hear something else about my growing body or see his smirk. I can't handle it. I put my hand on the door and it buzzes open, I step out. I place my hand under my stomach and I rush out and away from all of those people. Haymitch calls my name, I ignore him, pulling out the earpiece and throwing it back in the direction of them. I start to run and I feel tears building up. I keep running until I find myself in a stationary cupboard and I huddle on the floor and allow myself to cry.

Author's Note:

everlark4ever75 is back!

This story has been in the making for over 4 years. At any stage of my life for the past 4 years, I kept coming back to this fanfiction and adding more to it. I originally intended for this to just be an extremely long one-shot, but after all these years, it's become over 70k words and counting. I have yet to finish it, but have ideas of how to complete it which is more than I ever intended for this fanfiction.

This fanfiction stays very close to my heart and I think it always will be. It's what I wished my first fanfic would have been and more, but now as an adult who knows grammar and all that fun stuff, this is finally up to a standard that I feel confident in sharing, as I feel I am holding close something special for the Hunger Games fanfiction community. I think most Katniss and Peeta stans who love a pregnancy trope want in a story, trying to keep to the Hunger Games origins as I possibly can.

I hope you enjoy it and I promise not to bombard you with author's notes on each chapter- this will be one of the few. I will try to update every week for the next few months. Enjoy, please don't forget to share the love and follow, favourite and review.

Lots of love, everlark4ever75 xx