Catching Fire (reimagined: 18+)

Chapter 4 - The Announcement

**** THIS TAKE PLACES AFTER GALE IS WHIPPED AND KATNISS MEETS BONNIE AND TWILL IN THE WOODS. KATNISS HAS GIVEN UP ON THE OPTION OF RUNNING AWAY AND HAS HAD HER WEDDING DRESS PHOTOSHOOT ****

"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors ." Snow's voice echoes throughout our home. 

I'm going back into the arena. The words shine bright in my head so that I cannot escape them. I'm going back into the arena. I'm going back into the arena. I'm going back into the arena.

My throat begins to tighten and I'm gasping for air. I feel Prim's hands on my shoulders and I can hear my mothers sobs but its all as if its miles away. "Peeta" I mumble. And then I'm crashing through the front door out into the snowy street. My vision feels blurred and I can hear my heart beat in my ears. I'm not sure whats happening to me but I know I need to get to Peeta. It's like I'm living in one of my nightmares and he'll be able to soothe me back to reality. But when I bang on his front door theres no answer. I want to scream his name but when I open my mouth nothing comes out but sobs. I crumble onto the cold, hard ground and immediately hope that I just freeze to death right there. 

Then, through my blurred vision, I see Prim come running up the steps of the house with a blanket in her arms. She does her best to cover me with it and sits beside me stroking back my hair while I cry uncontrollably. After a while the mania that came over me seems to lift and I'm suddenly very aware of my little sister shivering aggressively beside me. My poor little duck. And it's my fault. Like most of her pain this past year. I push myself up into a sitting position and my muscles scream with the movement. We must have been out here longer than I realised. I transfer the blanket from me to her despite her insistence on me keeping it and we walk back to the house. 

Once inside, we find my mother sat motionless in the same spot, staring aimlessly at the ground.  Prim busies herself making tea for her and I take a moment to think. I think about how much I'll miss my mother and Prim. I regret the Sunday I purposefully missed hunting with Gale since I probably won't ever get another one. I think about Prim, my little duck, having to run the house all alone after my mother retreats into herself like she did when my father died. I think about how I won't get to see her grow up into the extraordinary person she will undoubtedly become. I yearn for all of the years I will lose. All of the moments I will miss. And then it hits me, if I'm not planning on winning a second time, who am I expecting to take the crown. "Peeta!" I take action with such urgency running out of the door and towards Haymitch's house that neither Prim nor my mother has time to react. 

I burst in to see Haymitch already a few bottles deep into his misery, "Well, look who decided to show up. Let me guess, you want to ask me to volunteer to die for that boy." Theres no malice in his voice despite the accusatory nature of his words because he thinks the same as me, he just wants me to confirm that he's right.

Instead of answering him I grab the bottle from his hand and take a swig. It tastes just how it smells, and I feel it seeping into my bloodstream. Like poison in my veins. Me and Haymitch work out the logistics of how we will keep Peeta alive and I make him promise to keep his word although I know its never meant much in the past. Then I straighten up and make my way through the increasing snowfall to Peeta's house. I hover at the door for a moment but then the cold pushes me inside without warning, I guess I should've at least stopped to put on some more layers before leaving the house. 

I find Peeta hunched in his armchair alone. The room only lit with a single candle making it gloomy to match the mood of the evening. He looks up with those sad eyes and attempts a smile, "Hey" his voice is shaking and I essentially run towards him and curl myself onto his lap. His arms instinctively enclose around me and I press my forehead against his. "You're going to come home, I promise." He says. I should tell him about the deal I've made with Haymitch. I should tell him that not even for a second did I consider coming home for a second time. But instead I kiss him and let him think that its a confirmation that I accept his plan. Like Haymitch said, I could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve him. 

We light  the fire and sit in front of it staring into the flames. Neither of us mentions the Games, instead we talking about our childhood, the happiest memories we can think of. We relive our past, sharing stories. We realise that we've always been there, in the background of each others lives and I can't help but feel so unbelievably sad that we won't get to experience a future together. To make up for it, to squash the sadness, I decide to take full advantage of living in the now and I climb on top of Peeta and kiss him, trying to makeup for a lifetime of stolen kisses that would've been. 

We fall into each other on the blanket in front of the fire and he's inside me again. This isn't like the times on the train, theres a certain rage from both of us that makes the whole thing more aggressive, more passionate. His mouth works its way down to my chest and his teeth on my nipples takes the whole experience up to another level. Its as if we both know this will be our last chance to explore each other, and we take full advantage of it. The heat from the fire and the sheer output of energy from the both of us leaves up dripping in sweat. He tastes salty when I run my tongue down his stomach. I feel like I'm acting on primitive animalistic instincts, devouring him and him me. His empty house means we remain undisturbed throughout the night so when we're finally satisfied we fall asleep in front of the fire needing only each other and the heat from the flames for warmth. 

The next day I make my way back to the house in the early hours of the morning while Prim and my mother are still asleep and run myself a hot bath. I giggle to myself thinking about my night with Peeta. I run my hands over my skin remembering where he touched it. Feeling giddy with lust. Then it all comes crashing down on me like a ton of bricks, and I remember my death sentence. 

The next few weeks are a blur. Peeta makes all three of us start training. We meet early every morning and run laps of the Victors Village. My mother puts us all on a special diet to help us gain weight, although I feel like I'm doing quite well at achieving that anyway. I start out doing well with all the running and lifting but after a while I get sick after one lap and have to crawl through the remaining hours of training. Peeta encourages me with that sweet smile while Haymitch starts to look at me with such concern I almost adopt his worries. It is strange, this sickness, at first I put it down to nerves since they haven't seemed to subside since the Quarter Quell was announced. But I've been nervous before, correction: I have been truly terrified for my life before. And yet my body has never reacted this way. Maybe it's because I don't plan on coming back. Maybe it's a whole new kind of fear, an acceptance of death isn't easy. 

The night before the Reaping I kiss Peeta goodbye on my doorstep at sunset and he goes to have dinner with his family at the bakery. I eat the best recreation of my favourite lamb stew that Peeta could manage to make before he left and I savour every bite of it despite having to choke down the nausea that never leaves me. Once we've finished eating my mother tells Prim to go and run a bath for me while her and I clear the table. We're left alone in the kitchen and at first I don't think much of it until I realise that my mother is planning on saying her goodbyes. She tentatively makes her way over to me until we're standing face to face, no hiding. Her eyes are already brimming with tears and now so are mine. 

"My dear girl" she holds my face in her hands, I open my mouth to tell her that she doesn't have to do this but she cuts me off "Just let me say me peace. Please. I can never tell you how sorry I am for leaving you to raise Prim after your father died. I promise you, I'll never do that to her again. Not even if you-" a sob cuts her off and she takes a minute to pull herself together, "Not even if you don't come back to us." 

Her tears are falling silently down her cheeks now and I can feel mine pooling in the dips of my collar bones as they race down my face and neck. I don't have anything to say to console her, I don't plan on coming back. So I decide to just let her speak until she's done. "I wish I could've protected you more. I wish I could've protected you both." At first I assume she means Prim and I, until she moves one of her hands from my face and places it on my lower stomach. My mind swims to make the connection that she is clearly making. Memories flash across my vision, me and Peeta in front of the fire, the sickness every morning at training, the constant nausea, my swollen stomach even before my mothers special diet. Is she right? How could she know? My brows furrow for a moment before she says, "Mothers instinct." and I know that she's right, because I have it too. I am pregnant.