Note: I did not create the hunger games it was made by Suzanne Collins and this is simply fan

fiction. Enjoy! PLEASE COMMENT Also: I lent out my book so I am wr iting this purely on memory. Sorry for any errors or missing parts and if there are any please comment and tell me so I can fix them! :) Peeta walked me upstairs to my room after the tour around Panem. He kissed me on the forehead, hugged me gently, then turned to leave. I grabbed hold of his arm . "Please stay, Peeta," I begged. "Just tonight. It's just, the tour brought back so many bad memories, my nightmares are bound to be terrible tonight. Especially with everything that happened in District 11. Rue's family, the old man --" my voice broke, and a tear fell silently down my face. "I need you." His arms wrapped around me once again and he kissed me softly. "Katniss, of cour se I'll stay. It's okay. Don't cry." he wiped the tear off my cheek with his thu mb. "I love you." The words came through my mough on their own, my mind taken aback. I guess deep down I'd always known a part of me had loved Peeta. His eyes widened with surprise, then he smiled like that was the best thing I co uld ever say to him. We laid down, embracing each other in the dark. This time I kissed him first. Not a fake kiss, like one of the many we'd shared in front of the cameras; but a real kiss. The kind you never wanted to end. I climbed under the covers and Peeta followed. We continued kissing until I slow ly started to peel off his shirt...

I found myself standing in the woods. I saw Peeta, bound to a tree, his mouth ga gged. President Snow stepped out from behind the tree. I started to run foward t o help Peeta, but he just got farther and farther away. Snow laughed maniacally. "You know you can't save him. You know you can't protec t anyone you love or care about, yet you keep trying. Why?" he grinned as he sli t Peeta's throat. I woke up screaming. I turned, but Peeta wasn't there. He had been replaced by R ue. I gasped. Her face was drenched in blood. "How?" she yelled in my face. "How could you have done this to me? You killed me Katniss! I hate you! I hate you! My blood is on your hands Katniss. And to thin k I thought you were my friend." I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing that this must be a dream. I felt Peeta's arms encase me, and felt his strength and warmth pull me back to reality. I cried into Peeta's chest. "Rue! Rue I'm so sorry. It's all my fault! Forgive m e. It's all my fault..." It took Peeta a while to calm me down, and even when he did, I continued to cry. When I finally stopped, I realized it was the next morning. I left my head reste d on Peeta's chest. "Thank you, Peeta." I said to him. "Thank you for staying." He kissed the top of my head. "Of course." he sounded unsettled. I sat up. "What is it?"

"It's just," he curled his finger in my hair. "If you don't mind my asking, I wa s wondering what it was you were dreaming about." I explained to him about my dream. He just nodded, as if he were afraid that tal king about it any longer would upset me. "I can go make you breakfeast, if you w ant." "No." I pulled him closer to me. "Don't go." He smiled, and we laid there for a few more hours. But then he said it was time we got up. He went home and I walke d around 12, looking for something to do. Me and Peeta didn't talk much in public after then. But every night Peeta would be in my room with me and comfort me when I awoke screaming. No one knew but us, though. Two monthes passed before I figured it out. I got sick often, and my appetite in creased. I consulted Prim -- too nervous to go to my mother about it -- and she confirmed it. I was pregnant. I didn't know how to tell Peeta. I put it off. I kept putting it off. Another mo nth passed, and it was time for the announcing of the quarter quell. I told myse lf I would tell Peeta afterwards. No matter how bad my jitters were. Everyone -- my mom, Prim, Haymith, Gale, Peeta and I -- all sat around the TV as we awaited the big announcment. I felt sick to my stomack when it showed Presid ent Snow, but I forced myself to sit and watch. He lifted the yellowed card out of the box. He announced grandly that the distri cts victors would enter the games once again. I ran to the bathroom immediately, slamming the door begind me. I vomited into t he toilet several times, and then there was a knocking at the door. "You all set in there, Catnip?" Gale. "FIne!" I croaked. He entered, and knelt next to me. He patted my back. "It's okay. We'll train. I won't let you die in there." "Yeah, thanks." I said numbly. "I think I'm gonna go lie down." I put my hands o n my stomach and walked slowly upstairs. A few minutes later, I heard the door slowly creak open and closed, then felt Pe eta slip into bed next to me. I had wanted to tell him then, but I knew if I did he would rist his life countless times to save me and the baby. But I wouldn't let him do that. He was going to be the one making it out of the arena, not me. Whether I was pregnant or not. "Heard you're not felling well," he said to me. "Are you okay?" I turned to him, tears filling my eyes. "I'm scared." I whispered. "I don't want to die, and I don't want to lose you. W hat if it comes down to us again? You know I could never --" "Shh," Peeta interrupted me. "Katniss, let's not think about that now. Let's enj oy the little normal time we have left." For the next month, Gale trained Haymitch, Peeta and I furiously. I couldn't run

as long as I could before without breaks, and I also couldn't climb trees as we ll anymore. But no one knew why except Prim and I. It enfuriated Gale, so he pushed me and pushed me until I got sick. I never went back to normal, though. The last week before it was time to go, Gale concluded that I had taken ill and put me on bedrest. Then came the moment. Effie called out my name, then Haymitch's. But of course, Peeta volunteered. I prepared speeches for everyone. Then they made us board the train to the capitol without saying goodbye. By that time I was four months pregnant and my tiny baby bump had began to show when I wasn't wearing a shirt. So I stuck to wearing one. I sat around the dinner table with Effie, Haymitch, and Peeta. I stuffed my face until it was time for my prep team to get a hold of me. Of course, after the others were done with my hair, makeup, and nails; Cinna ins isted I stripped down. I had no choice than to do what I was told. So I did. His eyes widened, and a few moments later all he said was, "Oh..." I nodded and put my finger up to my lips, as if to say, Don't say anything about it. He just nodded and put me into a black jumpsuit and a black sleek helmet. I ran my hands over the smooth leather. Cinna grabbed my wrist and pressed a sma ll butto on it. My sit jumped to life. It glowed red, orange, and yellow; consta ntly changing and flowing. I was like a hot ember in a coal mine. "Cinna, this is amazing!" I exclaimed. He smiled, switched the suit off, and beg an putting the finishing touches on me and my outfit. About half an hour later I walked out to the chariots to find Peeta and Haymitch already discussing things. "Ah, here she is now." Peeta said to Hamitch, and he turned to me."New gameplan for this year." Peeta grinned at me. Haymitch pushed him aside. "So you know how last year you were the innocent girl smiling and blowing kisses ?" I nodded. "Well, none of that this time. Your'e not happy at all to be back i n the games. You'll act angry. Got it?" I simply nodded again. "I need a drink." Haymitch muttered as he wandered off. As our chariot rode in next to the others, I put a hardened look on my face and stared straight ahead. I ignored the loud crowd and my face was a stone until it was all over. For the next month we ate, trained, discussed allies, and slept. Me and Peeta bo th scored high on our personal trainings, but only because the gamemakers hated us. Long story, don't ask. Then it was time for the interviews with the famous Caeser, which, yes, means I got sent to my prep team again. When Cinna pulled out my wedding dress, I didn't know what to say. "Are you really gonna make me wear that thing?" He nodded as he poofed up the bottom of my dress. "President Snow's orders." What? If President Snow had never really intended on

mine and Peeta's marriage, why would he want me to wear this? To rub it in my fa ce? To show the capitol how much I loved Peeta? Who on earth knew, but I didn't question it. When all of the tributes were standing around, waiting for the interviews to beg in, someone else did. "I can't believe Cinna put you in that." "He had to." I replied. "President Snow made him." "Well, you look ridiculous." Then we were seated and the interviews began. All o f the other tributes had some cunning way of looking amazing on the stage next t o Caeser, making me look stupid as I fumbled up the steps next to him and acted like my regular old self. It was the end of my interview that was amazing. I spun, just like Cinna said I should, and then: My dress became engulfed in fla mes. At first I was terrified of the smoke and fire that rose around me, then I realized that it must have been one of Cinna's tricks. So I kept spinning until I came to a stop, arms rised above my head. My dress was now made of charcoal colored feathers, the strips of fabric coming down off of my wrists looked like wings. I was a mockingjay. The only interview that made the capitol buzz more than mine, of course, was Pee ta's. Him and Caeser had been a perfect match eer since his interview the year b efore. Each one of them charismatic, adding funny comments and jokes both at the exact right time. Then Caeser brought up the wedding. "Well," Peeta began. "Do you think the audie nce out there can keep a secret?" What was he going to say? "I'm sure they can," Caeser grinned as he awaited what Peeta was about to say. "We're already married." What? "Well, not officially. No signing papers at the j ustice building or anything like that. But we have this ritual in District 12, c alled a toasting. We get together with the family, have a meal together, sometim es with cake; Then the couple toasts bread together. No, it's not official, but in 12, we're as good as married." "Well, at least you last times together was spent happily." "I don't feel the same about that." "Surely a brief amount of time together is better then none at all," "I'd feel that way too," Peeta continued. "If it weren't for the baby." That set the crowd off. Caeser tried to calm them, but the ding for the end of Peeta's i nterview sounded before he could. Tears streamed down my face. Did Peeta know? No, it must have been for the audience. There's no way he could have known. I'd have to tell him now. He walked down the steps and stood next to me. Our hands f ound each other and interlocked. I reached over and grabbed the tributes hand ne xt to me. Before I knew it we were all hand in hand. The camera didn't have enough time to cut us out. We had been seen. One of the first ever signs of unity between all of the districts. The only thing that eventually quited the crowd was the blarin g anthem of the Capitol blasting out through speakers above our heads. My teeth vibrated. I knew when I had to tell Peeta. When we stepped into the elevator to go back to our rooms, I pressed the button 12. Peeta automatically put his hands on my sho ulders and turned to me. "Do I have anything to be sorry for?" He asked me. "Nothing." he nodded, dropped his hands off my shoulders, turned, and stared str

aight ahead. "Oh," he smirked. "And your acting has gotten better." "Peeta," more tears fell from my eyes. "That's because I wasn't acting." he turn ed to me, saw the tears, and his hands were holding mine. "What do you mean Katniss," he asked, worried. "What's wrong?" "Peeta," I began. "I'm really pregnant." And then he fainted. Luckily I shook him awake bofore the doors opened. I grabbed his wrist and pulle d him straight up to the roof of the train. Peeta sat up against the railing and put his head between his legs. The minutes it took him to calm himself seemed like hours, and I let out a sigh of relief when he finally lifted his head. "How long?" he asked. I didn't know w hat he meant. "How long?" he asked again, pointing to my stomach. "Five months." "You mean when we --" I nodded. "Why didn't you tell me?" I would have never sai d that if I'd known! Now people are going to targe tyou, thinking you're weak, a nd --" "Peeta." I stopped him. "It's okay. It's not your fault. Your right, I should ha ve told you. I'm sorry." I tried to think of something to say to make him feel b etter, but couldn't. So instead, I walked over and sat on his lap. I took his hands in mine, lifted m y shirt, and rested them on my stomach. He couldn't help but smile. I turned to him. "I really am sorry." Then I kissed him. He came back to my room and laid in my bed with me. We both cried. For the next day, the Hunger Games would begin o nce again.