My first attempt at a "Hunger Games" fanfic. Not much to say, except I'm still trying to get over my writer's block so there are no guarantees of regular updates.

When my period is late it sets off no alarms in my head. I only started getting them a year and a half ago and living on the brink of starvation has made them anything but regular. It doesn't even cross my mind that there might be something going on until I become queasy. Even then my mind does not immediately connect the two symptoms. The very idea is so foreign to me that it hardly seems possible.

But it is. I'm pregnant.

I realize it the morning my mother is visited by a newlywed twenty-three year-old woman and I overhear their conversation. There aren't any pregnancy tests available in District 12 but the signs my mother ask about are all present, both for the newlywed woman and for me. Missing period? Check. Upset stomach? Check. Breasts feeling tender? Check.

Having had sexual intercourse recently? Check.

In a fit of panic I race up the stairs and lock myself in my bedroom before I throw myself down on the bed. For about ten minutes I stare blankly at the wallpaper, unable to form a coherent thought. I'm pregnant. How could this have happened? How could I have let this happen? How could we both have been so stupid?

It only happened once, on the way back from the Capitol after the Victory Tour. Peeta didn't come to my bedroom the night when we got engaged and I let him have his space but when he stayed away the following night as well I went to check on him and make sure he was okay. We ended up having a long talk about everything that was expected of us and how we felt about it. Peeta was no happier about our upcoming marriage than I was, albeit for entirely different reasons.

The more we talked about it the more we decided that all we could do was make the best of it. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. We get along great and maybe we could have a good life together under the circumstances. I don't think either one of us was actually convinced but somehow it felt better to say it. Then Peeta brought up the physical aspect of marriage and was surprisingly candid. He told me he would be a perfect gentleman and live in chastity with me if that was what I wanted but that it would be very difficult for him to share a life and a bed with me and never get to know me physically. The more we talked the more I realized that a lifetime of chastity didn't sound too exciting to me either. I've heard it said enough times that sex is the best physical experience of your life and missing out on that seems rather unfortunate. At least under these circumstances, where the choice of whether or not I should get married has been taken out of my hands.

After we had gone to bed we held each other closely for comfort and somehow ended up kissing. Feeling curious after what we had talked about I allowed my hands to begin to explore and before I knew how it had happened we ended up having sex. It was awkward, fumbling, over in just a few minutes and not at all as pleasurable as everyone said. It wasn't painful but it just felt strange and I couldn't imagine why women claim to like it, crave it even.

When it was over we both felt awkward and ended up falling asleep without being wrapped closely together the way we've slept before. In the morning we both agreed that for now it was better not to engage in that particular activity and that we could rethink whether or not we wanted to have a sexlife together once we were married.

That was almost eight weeks ago. The possibility that I might get pregnant had never entered my mind. I know how babies are made but one messy night on a train didn't seem like it would put me at big risk for conceiving. I'm a teenager whose body has been through more than enough in the past few years that I hadn't expected it to be able to carry a child right now. Yet here I am.

I lie there on my bed for hours, trying to figure out what the hell I'm going to do. There are ways to get rid of an unwanted baby, I know that much. It's illegal but my mother has a few herbs that can do the trick. It's definitely an option since the only thing I know for sure is I can't have this baby. I never wanted to have children. The thought was terrifying enough a year ago but now that I'm a Hunger Games victor it's ten times worse. The father being another victor makes it an additional ten times worse. I have not the faintest doubt in my mind that if this child is born he or she will be a tribute in thirteen or fourteen years. There is no way Snow and the game makers could resist. The son or daughter of the star-crossed lovers of District 12 competing in the arena. They would have an orgasm just from the thought of it.

Yet the thought of an abortion scares me and doesn't seem to make much sense. The herbs aren't completely safe and there's no telling how I will feel after I've taken them. Furthermore, what I fear is bearing a child who will die a premature and violent death. How will I make things better by terminating the pregnancy? Wouldn't that just be doing Snow's bidding for him by jumping to the chase and taking away the child's life twelve years before the Capitol gets the chance to? In the end, fear and oppression are his main goals and he wants parents to live in fear until their children are eighteen. A pre-emptive move like abortion would not be exactly the same but when the motivation is fear of the Hunger Games it would serve the same purpose in the end.

And the baby is Peeta's. I am anything but sure of how I feel about him but I do know that he matters to me at some level and that this child is a part of him. Can I really abort his baby? How would I ever be able to look him in the eye if I did that? Saving his life became so important to me in the arena so terminating the extension of his life seems in direct conflict.

But I can't give birth to this child. There is no possible way. The child would be as good as dead the moment it left my womb. And I am not ready to be a mother, even if the child's eternal safety from the Games could be guaranteed. I'm a teenager whose life is a mess, who doesn't know what she feels or for whom she feels it, who is way in over her head in everything she does and who wakes up screaming in the middle of the night from nightmares about people she's seen die and people whose deaths she's caused. How the hell would I be able to care for a child?

I know that it is expected of me to bear children. President Snow expects it as a means to control Peeta and me. The people of Panem expect it because why wouldn't the star-crossed lovers of District 12 start a family now that they've beaten the odds and been given a chance at a life together? With all that in mind I was still determined to do my best never to become pregnant. I haven't figured out how to manage that yet without bringing about the deadly wrath of Snow but I definitely thought I would have more time to think about it.

The obvious answer would of course be to remain a virgin for life. Barring that I guess I thought I could ask my mother if she knew of any contraceptive herbs I could take. How I would handle Snow would be a secondary problem that I would have a few years, and Peeta's help, to figure out. Somehow I was going to win this particular battle with the president because out of all the sacrifices and the horrors I have lived through and will be living through the one that would break me completely is being the mother of a child that goes into the arena. The mere thought of standing up there on the stage outside the Justice Building when the name of Peeta's and my child is drawn and then having to mentor that child makes me panicked.

But here I am now, pregnant completely by accident and with absolutely no idea what to do. Should I tell Peeta? I sure as hell can't turn to my mother. She would panic and she would freak out over me no longer being a virgin and God knows what else she would do. Perhaps I could tell Haymitch but I don't think he would have any help to offer. He's seen other victors mentoring their children in the arena. He knows there's no way around it once you're a victor with offspring. The most he could do for me would be to offer his condolences and his support.

I'm on my own with this one, I realize. I need to formulate a plan and do it really fast while there's still time. Either I terminate the pregnancy, which I can't see myself doing, or I find some way of saving my unborn child from President Snow and the arena. Luckily it seems that my mother and Prim both think I've gone out for the day because nobody comes to summon me to the dinner table. The solitude gives me some time to think.

By the time it's getting dark I know I have to go downstairs or they will start to worry. I've spent a few hours by now going over every possible solution I can think of and a plan has begun to take form in my mind. It's not an easy one to pull off and an even less easy one to live with but I have to give it a try. For the sake of the baby I have no other choice.

I write a letter to President Snow saying that I need to meet with him and that it's urgent. Once I've sent the letter I expect a summon to the Capitol within a day or two. Instead I come home from the Hob four days later to find President Snow sitting in the study of my house. Mother and Prim are hiding out in the living room looking terrified but instead of offering them any comfort I walk into the study and close the door behind me, wanting to have this over and done with as soon as possible.

"Miss Everdeen" says Snow, barely looking up from the papers he is reading. "To what do I owe the pleasure of you desiring a visit from me? It must be important since I was not under the impression that our relationship had progressed to one of being pen pals."

I see no point in tiptoeing around it. Everything depends on how this conversation goes and being frank, direct and assertive is the best strategy I can think of with this man.

"I'm pregnant."

For a brief second I can take pleasure in having caught him completely off guard. President Snow looks up at me and I know I have his full attention now. Slowly he sets the papers down on the table, rises and smirks.

"I'm impressed" he says. "I asked you to prove to me that your feelings for the boy were genuine and you certainly went all in."

"It's Gale's."

I think to myself that I must have set some new record, taking him so completely by surprise twice in less than two minutes. I wait breathlessly to hear what he will say to this, praying that he will believe the lie. All my hope is tied up in the idea that President Snow will see Gale as the father being the worst situation possible for me and overlook all the dangers that hang over the baby with Peeta as the father. He has to think I would rather have him think Peeta was the father than the other way around. If he does he won't question my lie.

"That is very unfortunate, Miss Everdeen" says Snow finally. "Does your fiancé know about your... indiscretion with your cousin?"

"No. And I don't mean for him to ever find out."

"I see" says Snow, smacking his tongue. "You have been quite the busy bee, then, I take it. Tell me, how is it you know that the child is not Peeta's?"

I swallow hard, praying that my nervousness will come across as shame.

"Because... we said we'd wait for marriage."

"Ah" nods Snow, walking slowly around his desk. "It is highly unfortunate then that you ended up in the family way at the dress rehearsal."

"I don't think I need to tell you how difficult it is for me to stand here and tell you this" I say, my voice trembling.

"No. You don't. Since you asked for an audience I take it there's something you want. Need help arranging an abortion?"

"No..." I take a deep breath. Now or never. "I have a proposition. I have thought long and hard about this and it is the only solution I can think of that will allow us to... to continue on as planned, as if none of this ever happened."

"I'm intrigued." I can't for the life of me tell if he is serious or not. "Though I have to warn you, I am not very inclined to listen to you at the moment. You have been a very disobedient young lady and I thought you knew better."

"I know what's at stake."

"Yet you're standing here pregnant by a boy other than the one you're supposed to be in love with" says Snow. "It may be that I am out of touch with the ways of the outer districts but in the Capitol we don't mix true love with sordid affairs with... relatives."

"It was a mistake" I say. "I know. It was... one moment of weakness. A last goodbye." I know I'm blushing when I continue with what is actually true. "It didn't even cross my mind that I might end up getting pregnant."

"And so your last goodbye left you with someone to remember him by. They don't teach biology very well in District 12, do they?"

"I want to make my transgression... disappear. For that I need your help."

"You want it to disappear without having an abortion?"

"I am very well aware of the seriousness of the situation and I fully intend on marrying Peeta" I tell him. I make no effort to try and convince him that I love Peeta. He didn't believe I did when we got engaged so there's no way he'll believe it under current circumstances. All he needs to know is that I don't plan to rock the boat.

"So you need my help with what, Miss Everdeen?" asks the president. "Convincing him that you got pregnant through immaculate conception?"

"I... would be willing to give the child up for adoption" I say, barely able to get the words out of my mouth. "Peeta would never have to know. No one would have to know." I swallow hard. "But I need your help to pull it off."

"Yes" nods Snow. "You do. On your own you could hardly disguise a progressing pregnancy nor find someone to adopt your bastard in secret." He sits down on the desk and crosses his arms over his chest. "It's not a bad idea. I know it pains you to make the suggestion. I could arrange for you to come to the Capitol, stay hidden away from the public eye and as soon as the child is delivered some lucky couple gets to raise it. You would of course have to give up any parental rights for all of the child's life. Including visitations and updates on the child's development."

"Yeah" I say hoarsely. I wasn't expecting anything else.

"And the father would need to do the same."

I feel all colour leave my face. The father? I wasn't intending on telling anyone back home about this, not even Gale.

"Will that be necessary?" I say, my voice barely holding up. "He doesn't know and I would prefer to keep it that way."

"You think he might object to having his child given away to decadent citizens of the Capitol?" asks Snow casually. "You will need his signed consent or no adoption will be legally binding."

"Done."

I haven't got the faintest idea how I will bring this up to Gale or convince him to help me out but that's a problem I can solve tomorrow. Right now I need to make this deal happen and if I hesitate Snow might change his mind. We're both very well aware of who's holding all the power here and he can probably sense my desperation. He knows he can get me to agree to just about anything so I should be thankful if all he's asking for is Gale's signature on a piece of paper.

Snow steps closer to me and the smell of blood and roses gets thicker and makes my stomach turn. I hear sensitivity to smell is another symptom of pregnancy.

"Are you certain you are with child?" Snow asks.

"All the telltale signs are there."

He studies me closely for a moment and reaches out his hand, placing it on my stomach and feeling around. It makes me want to crawl out of my skin and I can only assume he's doing it to make me feel violated as there is no possible way to feel a pregnancy this way after only a few weeks. I almost exhale loudly in relief when his hand goes away.

"I don't trust your District 12 methods" he says plainly, walking back to the desk. "I shall require a proper pregnancy test conducted by the Capitol's doctors. I'll have a standard test sent to you which you will take and send right back to the Capitol."

"I can't do that" I argue. "No one can know about this. Including Prim and my mother."

"Then I suggest you lock the bathroom door while you're taking the test. If the test proves to be positive then you can contact me when you begin showing and I will have an additional confirmation test done and you will get a nice train ride to our favourite city and spend the next six months under my thumb. Sound good to you?"

Nothing about this sounds good to me. But I'm not in a position to negotiate.

"It's a deal" I answer, my voice barely holding up.

"Good, then" nods Snow. "When you get back here after the child has been born you will proceed with your plans to marry Peeta and let's make sure that the next child you bear will be his and not any other random fellow's, mmm?"

"Yes."

"Well, then." He walks past me to the door. "I'll have the test sent to you once I return to the Capitol and you will let me know when you need to be hidden away to conceal your shame." His hand reaches the doorknob. I haven't turned around so when he speaks again he speaks to my back. "Oh, and Miss Everdeen? Never let anything like this happen again."

Then he's gone and I take a few steps forward and grab a hold of the desk, desperately trying to keep myself on my feet. It's over. It's done. Snow agreed and I can keep the baby safe. All I have to do is make the biggest sacrifice of my life. The only comfort I have is knowing that it's less awful than having to watch my child die in the arena. I don't know yet how I will prevent further pregnancies but I can deal with that later. Right now this child is safe and nothing else matters.

After a few minutes I take a deep breath, release my grip on the desk and straighten my back. Now I have to go out there and talk to Mother and Prim and give them an excuse for President Snow's visit. The smell of roses and blood still fills my nose. I wonder how long it will be before it goes away.

I should probably be celebrating that night. My meeting with Snow went as well as I could have hoped for and I feel confident that I have secured my baby's safety and future. Yet celebrating is the last thing I feel like doing. Instead I head straight to bed, ignoring the food Mother sends up even though I know I will be feeling very sick to my stomach if I don't eat something, and finally allow myself to cry. The sobs rip through me but do nothing to ease my pain. My baby will live but I will never get to know him or her. I'll never even get to hold the child.

Not only that, but neither will Peeta. Thinking about him breaks my heart into a million pieces. He's good with children – I've seen it. He likes children. He will never know he's a father and for the rest of our lives, which will be spent together, I will have to lie by omission. It's not fair to him. He deserves to know but I have to put the baby's well-being above Peeta's fatherly rights. My hand caresses my stomach, which doesn't show any signs yet of harbouring a foetus, and in my mind I beg the baby's father for forgiveness, over and over. I like to think that Peeta would understand, maybe even approve. Though I'm guessing that's very naive of me.

Eventually an overwhelming tiredness overcomes me and my eyes begin to drift shut. My last thoughts before I drift to sleep is that while this will be the most difficult thing I ever do, more difficult than the Games even, I will see it done. I refuse to be like my own mother and put my feelings first. The sacrifice I make on both my own and Peeta's account will save our baby's life. That is the thought that helps me go to sleep that night and that will help me go to sleep every night from now on.

A few days later the pregnancy test arrives, delivered in an envelope by a peacekeeper who waits outside the door while I do my part. Grateful that my mother and sister are off tending to a twelve year-old with pneumonia I hurry to the downstairs bathroom and take the test. I put it in its little container and then back in the envelope but not before glancing at it. It confirms the pregnancy. When I hand the envelope to the peacekeeper I wonder if Snow knew my family was out. The peacekeeper hurries off before anyone can return home.

The following Sunday I head out to the woods to speak to Gale. He has to be told, the sooner the better. I dread this conversation almost as much as I dreaded talking to Snow but I know there's no way around it so I'd rather just have it over and done with.

Gale is knelt down on the ground, working on a snare, when I reach him. He looks up at me, smiles and begins to brush the dirt off his pants.

"Hey there, Catnip. Wasn't expecting to see you."

"Gale I have a favour to ask" I say bluntly.

"Okay" says Gale, rising to his feet. "Whatever it is I'm on board."

"You don't know what it is."

"As I said, whatever it is."

I shake my head.

"I really hope so but..."

His face turns from a warm smile to a worried frown.

"Katniss, what's wrong?"

"I'm pregnant, Gale." The shock hits him so hard I worry that he might fall over. For several minutes he just stares at me with shock and horror. "Nobody knows. Except..."

"Oh God" breathes Gale. "Pregnant, Catnip? Is this a joke?"

"No."

"You're pregnant?" He shakes his head and makes a disgusted snort. "You know, I actually believed you when you said you were never getting married or having children. I guess you were just waiting for the right guy and the right nationally televised event."

"It's not like that" I say. "The engagement is just for show, you know that."

"Yeah but you're having his baby so clearly you're really getting into character." He snorts again and sits down on a large rock. "How thrilled is the expecting father?"

"He doesn't know, Gale, and you can't say anything to him."

"You're not keeping it?" asks Gale.

"You're the only one I've told. You, and President Snow."

Gale eyes me in silence for a moment.

"Snow? Why on earth would you share something like this with that lunatic?"

"Because I had to." Nervously I begin twisting my hands. "Here's where the favour comes in... See, I told him that the baby is yours."

The expression on Gale's face is almost comical, his eyes bulging out of his head and his colour ghastly pale. He flies to his feet in panic.

"Oh my God, Katniss, you told him what?" He begins to pace back and forth. "Do you realize what you have done? Do you? You've signed my death warrant! President Snow is going to have me killed for this!"

When he says it I realize that he's partially right. It could very well have ended with Snow having Gale killed if I hadn't been able to convince him to go along with the adoption idea. In fact, he still might send out an order to have Gale murdered. Oddly enough I don't regret naming Gale as the father. Even though the baby is barely two months old inside of me I feel protective of it and on a deep instinctive level I realize that I care about the child more than I care about Gale. I'm also vaguely aware that if the roles had been reversed and I had gone to Peeta telling him I'm pregnant and I claimed he was the father of Gale's child, Peeta would have accepted it.

"You're not in any danger" I tell Gale, hoping that it's true, and I'm glad to see him stop pacing. "I made a deal with President Snow."

"Oh. You made a deal." His tone is anything but kind. "Well that's good news, isn't it? Your previous deals have worked out so well."

"Gale this isn't easy!"

"I'm sorry" he mumbles. He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a sigh, his breath clearly visible in the cold air. "God, this is just... a little bit much to take. You and Peeta are having a baby yet you're pinning it on me, thereby making me the villain in the great love story of the star-crossed-"

"You're not going to be a villain" I cut him off. "Nobody knows I'm pregnant and nobody is going to know." I tremble a little as I continue. "I'm going to travel to the Capitol when I start showing and I'm going to have the baby there. I'm giving it up for adoption."

The angry, frustrated look on his face melts away and he looks at me with sadness and compassion that almost brings tears to my eyes.

"Oh Catnip..."

"It's the only way, Gale" I say, terrified that he might try to talk me out of it. It takes everything I've got not to begin to cry as I try to explain it to him. "I can't terminate. I just don't have it in me to do that. I will carry this baby to term, but..." I pause and take a deep, trembling breath. "This child would be doomed from the moment of its birth. Not only the child of two victors but the child of two victors who survived the same arena. The star-crossed lovers of District 12. He or she would be reaped for sure and Peeta and I would have to mentor our own boy or girl and watch him or her die a violent death for the sake of entertainment. You know the Capitol couldn't resist. The very best we could hope for is that they don't rig the reaping until the kid is eighteen, in which case he or she might have a chance at survival but even if you live through the arena your life is no longer your own. I don't want my baby to live with the nightmares that plague Peeta and me. I don't want this baby to live a lifetime after the arena with the emotional scars and with the Capitol dictating what he or she does. The only chance this baby has is to be given away to Capitol parents. Then they couldn't draft him or her for the Games. He or she would be safe."

"Katniss..." says Gale softly. "You don't want to do this."

"Yes I do." By now tears have begun to fall down my cheeks, despite my best effort. "Why shouldn't I? It's the best anyone in District 12 could hope for their children. Raised in a Capitol home this baby would never know what starvation is or fear the reaping. Everything I've always wished I could give Prim I can give my child."

"Except yourself" points out Gale. "Life in the Capitol may mean no hunger and no want for anything material but nothing in the world could replace you."

"There's got to be a lot of loving parents in the Capitol" I argue. "Just because they're completely detached from the hardships in life that doesn't mean they're not capable of love. Whoever adopts my child will be a couple who desperately want a baby but can't have one of their own. Think of how they would treasure my child."

"Yeah, or they want a trophy baby" says Gale. "The baby of Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark. The perfect thing to show off to your friends and family."

"The adoptive parents won't know who the biological parents are" I say. "That information needs to be contained. And if they do find out, the listed father will be you... Please Gale, I need your help. Desperately."

"Yeah, sure" he sighs. "What do you need? What can I do?"

"Sign away parental rights."

"Sign away the parental rights... To a child that's not even my own."

"I can't involve Peeta in this" I say. "He can never know. If he knows then Snow will know and this whole thing falls apart. The reason I lied and said you were the father is because it will make Snow agree to the adoption. If he knew who truly fathered this baby he will insist that we raise it."

"You want to raise it" argues Gale.

"I'm sixteen years old!" I cry. "Look at me, I'm a mess! I can't be somebody's mother. Even if I could, I told you why I can't officially be linked to this child. Regardless of how I feel about motherhood the safety of the baby comes first. It has to be given away and you have to sign the papers for that to happen. Please, Gale. Please. You're not actually losing anything by doing it."

"No, only helping the girl I love give up her child."

"You'd be helping me save my child."

Gale walks up to me and pulls me into a hug. The feeling of his strong arms around me and his broad chest to lean against feels better than anything else has these past few weeks. He holds me silently while I sob for my child and the sacrifice I will have to make. When I begin to calm down he gently shushes me and places a kiss on the top of my head.

"Alright, Catnip" he says. "Okay. I will pretend I'm the father and I will sign away the rights. Just as long as you're sure."

"I am" I say, determination in my voice. "I will not let this baby be another victim of the Hunger Games."

Gale holds me close and rocks me gently. I don't know for how long we stand like that but I'm grateful for every minute of it. Gale is a rock and he is with me in this. I no longer carry this secret alone with the man responsible for many of the greatest horrors of my life. Gale is my accomplice now and everything will be as fine as they could be under the circumstances.

I have to hand it to Snow. The man knows how to create a believable lie. When I'm fifteen weeks in I begin to be able to see a small bump and I know that it is time to contact Snow. I have, per his orders, not tried to hide that I'm feeling tired and nauseous and the day after I contact him a peacekeeper arrives at my door to bring me in for a blood test. My mother immediately questions this but is given no explanation. I follow the peacekeeper outside and notice that Peeta and Haymitch are being brought in as well. Once we reach the Justice Building we are taken to a small room where three doctors in protective gear wait. We're told that the Capitol suspects we may have been subjected to a contagion during the Victory Tour and that we must be tested. If anyone of us should be found to be infected that person will be taken to the Capitol for isolation and treatment.

Peeta takes my hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze, noticing the distress on my face. Even though this is all for the best, a carefully woven scheme to ensure the survival of my – our – unborn child, I'm still nothing more than a frightened sixteen year-old about to be taken from her family and home to deliver a baby for somebody else in the Capitol. Having Peeta there to offer me comfort helps immensely. I have come to rely on him when I'm frightened and he never disappoints.

After the blood test we're kept waiting for two hours and Haymitch and Peeta use the time to try and figure out what contagion it might be. I don't say a word and after a while Peeta apologises for scaring me.

Finally the door opens and one of the doctors returns.

"Miss Everdeen? Come with us, please."

Peeta shoots me an almost panicked look and grabs my hand again, squeezing it tight.

"What's wrong?" he asks the doctor. "Does she have it?"

"You need to come with us, Miss Everdeen" says the doctor. "And try not to be in close contact with anyone else."

I rise to my feet, still not saying a word. Peeta ignores the doctor's commands and pulls me in for a tight hug. Part of me wishes I could stay in his comforting embrace for the next six months but another part of me is overwhelmed with guilt. He's so concerned for me and I'm hiding something monumental from him. Haymitch is right. I could never deserve him.

"You'll be okay" whispers Peeta. "They won't let anything bad happen to you. You're Panem's darling. You and I are going to get married and you know how Snow would hate having to miss out on those ratings. You're going to be fine."

"I'll see you when I get back" I manage to mumble.

He breaks away and his blue eyes look deep into mine. Then he gives me a kiss and wishes me luck. I swallow hard and look down on the floor. The doctor grabs me by the arm and ushers me out of the room before I can say anything to Haymitch.

I'm lead into another small room down the end of the hall and one of the doctors there offers me a glass of water and a seat.

"We need information on anyone you've been in close contact with since the Victory Tour" says one of the doctors. "Your mother and your sister are already being brought in for testing. Is there anybody else we should know about?"

Poor Prim. I feel horrible doing this to her. And my mother. They must be so worried about me. But it's just one more sacrifice I need to make for the sake of this child.

"Miss Everdeen?" says another doctor. "Is there anyone else?"

"Gale" I say, my voice barely holding. "My cousin. And... and Madge Undersee, the mayor's daughter."

"We'll have them brought in as well. Finish your water, we leave in ten minutes."

"What?"

"The train is being made ready. We want you in the Capitol as soon as possible."

All I can do is nod and accept it. The next ten minutes go by very slowly and I wish I could just get on that damn train and be out of here already. When they finally bring me out of the Justice Building and to the waiting car I see Peeta standing there, as close as they will allow him. He mouths to me that everything will be alright. I fight hard not to cry.

I'm put inside the car and driven to the train station. The doctors herd me onboard and show me to my compartment where I'm left to my own devices. The room is much smaller and far less luxurious than what I've had before as a tribute and a victor but none of it matters. I sit down on the small bed and lean back against the wall, resting my hand on the barely-there bump on my stomach. I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I have a difficult six months ahead of me. All I can do now is endure and long for the day when I'm travelling back to District 12.

When we arrive in the Capitol I am immediately taken to Snow's palace where I am to be kept under strict surveillance in what appears to be the president's very own medical ward. The doctor who welcomes me seems friendly enough and chats with me about the ward and all its perks and advances but I have nothing to say so I stay silent. Once the medical team that brought me here from District 12 have left the doctor drops the pretence of me being here due to a contagion and informs me that I will be having an ultrasound in fifteen minutes and that I am to be weighed, measured, poked and prodded in every way so they can know how healthy, or not healthy, I am. I am also informed of a strict diet regime I will be put on and what exercises I am to perform every day. It seems they have planned out every single day of the rest of the pregnancy but even though it's a violation of my privacy I don't really care. The more seriously they take the pregnancy the more likely it is that Snow will go through with his end of the bargain and provide the baby with a good home.

My room is small but welcoming compared to the hospital room I've previously had here in the Capitol. There is a large, soft bed with a green bedspread that matches the colour of the rug on the floor and with a satin clad stool on the foot of the bed. Next to the bed there is a small bedside table on one side and a dresser on the other. A small table stands a few feet from the dresser and it has two small chairs. There are no other pieces of furniture but the walls have paintings of flowers and animals on them and there are two large windows facing a small garden that is enclosed on all four sides by the building. It looks more like a terrace than anything else. I assume this is where I will be getting my fresh air, as there is no way any of us would risk me going anywhere where people can see me.

I sit down on the bed and notice that there is a small telephone on the bedside table. Just in case I didn't know I was being watched the phone rings only seconds after I noticed it. I pick it up and hear the familiar voice of President Snow.

"I hope you have settled in, Miss Everdeen" says Snow.

"I'm surprised you gave me a phone" I reply. "I assume it's so you can stay in close touch with me, in case you need anything?"

"That," agrees Snow, "and so that you can call your family. Oh don't be so surprised, Miss Everdeen. Your mother and sister will be expecting to hear from you. We trust you not to say anything you shouldn't since this whole arrangement was your idea in the first place."

"And just in case I'd change my mind you have the phone tapped" I conclude.

"Naturally. Now give your mother and sister a call and let them know you've arrived safely and then you really must get going to your ultrasound."

"Maybe I shouldn't call my family" I say. "I'm a very bad liar."

"Nonsense" answers Snow. "You managed to fool the whole country that you want to marry Peeta. Well, nearly the whole country."

He hangs up and I slowly put the phone down, needing a moment to think of what to tell my mother when I call her. Then I draw a deep breath and dial the number. It's Prim who answers, after only two rings. I wonder how worried they are about me.

"Hey, little duck" I say, fighting to keep my voice calm.

"Katniss!" Prim says. "Katniss are you alright? What's happening to you?"

"They think I might have caught something" I say. "You are okay though, right? They took you in and tested you?"

"Yeah, they drew blood from us" says Prim. "They wouldn't tell us anything, though."

"They didn't tell me anything either."

"Are you scared?" Prim all but whispers.

"No" I lie. "The first time I was here it was to compete in the Hunger Games. This can hardly be worse than that."

"Mom wants to talk to you" says Prim.

"Okay."

"Get home real soon, okay?"

"I will."

She hands the phone over to my mother and I speak briefly with her. She wants to know what they have told me, what my symptoms are, how long they think I will have to stay here. I answer only briefly and tell her that I don't know much but I feel okay. The conversation ends and I hang up the phone, wishing I could call Gale. In the end I'm scared to because I might say more than I should when I talk to him.

Soon there is a knock on the door and I am summoned to my examination. I am told to remove all my clothes and put on an unflattering gown that opens over the stomach, then I lie down in a chair with stirrups while the doctor puts on gloves and begins a very uncomfortable examination that has me wincing for the most part. Yet the experience of being examined in my most private parts is still not as bad as when she brings out the sonogram to take a look at the baby. I close my eyes hard and ask her not to tell me what she sees on the monitor. I don't want to see the baby, not even at this stage, and I don't want to know anything other than that the child is healthy. The more detached I am the less heart wrenching it will be when the pregnancy is over and the baby and I part ways.

The first two days go by very slowly. I quickly realize that other than eating what they tell me to eat and exercising when they tell me to exercise there is not much to do here. I am not allowed to wander the surroundings at will, there are no books for me to read and there's not even a deck of cards for me to amuse myself with. I ask for a pencil and some paper and spend my time writing down everything my father taught me about herbs and the animals of the forest. It keeps me occupied but it's not going to do the trick for a full six months. I have a feeling that I'm going to go insane here. I'm not used to being idle and not having anybody to talk to and I feel very lonely in the Capitol without Haymitch, Peeta, Cinna and Effie.

On the third day I hear a small commotion outside my door and I get up from the bed where I'm resting and I walk out into the hallway. They are bringing somebody else in and it takes me a moment to figure out who they would be bringing. Then I see Gale and I'm filled with so much relief that for a moment I don't even care that he's been dragged from his home to be imprisoned here with me for half a year with nothing to do all day long. Our eyes meet and he looks on edge and confused by the new surroundings but he also looks reassuring. We don't get a chance to speak as they lead him into another room so I hurry up to my doctor who is overlooking the arrival.

"Can I see him?" I ask directly. "I need to speak with him."

"Seems to me you've seen more of him than what is good for you" replies the doctor dryly. "But yes, you may see him once he's settled in."

Breathing a sigh of relief I ask when that will be but get no answer. The doctor leaves, as do the men who brought Gale here, and I'm left standing alone outside his door. I immediately go for the doorknob but it's locked. With a groan I begin to pace back and forth outside the door until finally after twenty minutes I hear a click. I try the door again and this time it opens.

Gale's room looks like mine only smaller and without any windows. He's studying one of the paintings on the wall when I enter but immediately loses interest in artwork when he sees me standing there.

"Catnip" he says as the door closes behind me.

"Gale!" I walk into his outstretched arms, seeking comfort in his embrace. "I'm so sorry you had to be brought her like this. I didn't think for a minute that Snow would have you taken to the Capitol, too. But I'm very, very glad to see you."

"It surprised me, too" says Gale. "I guess they wanted me to sign the documents here. Hey, at least I get to see the Capitol other than on TV. How are you feeling?"

"Horribly" I answer, pulling back from the hug. "The nausea is getting a little better but I'm tired almost all the time and... the further I get with this the more frightened I become."

"You, frightened?" smiles Gale, gently brushing my cheek with his fingers. "The girl on fire? I don't believe it for a second."

"If Snow asks I'm not the least bit scared" I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

"The people in these rooms... do they know?"

I nod.

"They are Snow's hand-picked crew. Here to watch over me and make sure I eat everything I should and don't eat anything I shouldn't and that the pregnancy progresses safely. They are also the people who will deliver me and take the baby away."

"I admit, I still don't understand" says Gale, taking a seat on the satin-dressed stool. "What does Snow care about the progression of the pregnancy? Would it really matter to him if you lost the baby or it was born... disfigured?"

I don't answer his question because I'm not sure how free we are to talk. Somehow I need to communicate to Gale that we might be watched at all times. For now I just sit down beside him, shivering a little even though it's warm inside and I'm wearing a large, comfortable sweater. Gale doesn't understand Capitol politics as well as I do, nor does he even come close to comprehending President Snow. Snow wants the baby to be born healthy because it will always be a source of control over me. He can make me jump through whatever hoops he wants under the threat of punishing the child if I don't. It's that simple.

A thought occurs to me and I look up at Gale.

"Your family... How will they sustain themselves if you're kept here for six whole months?" A brand new wave of guilt washes over me and I stand back up again. "God, Gale, I have to speak to President Snow. Somehow I have to get him to-"

"You don't need to do anything" says Gale, though he doesn't sound happy about it. "When I talked to my mother she said your fiancé had been by and offered part of his monthly supplies until I get back. That, along with the supplies we'll get up until someone new wins the Games in a few months, will keep them fed."

I sit back down with a sigh.

"Hazelle is not going to accept charity from Peeta."

"No" agrees Gale. "He's no dummy, he knows that. He gave this whole big spiel, apparently, about how guilty he feels and how it's all yours and his fault that our family's main provider is gone for a while, and how he won't be able to sleep knowing that he has caused such great harm on innocent people. Basically he made it sound like they would be doing him a favour by accepting the supplies." He shakes his head a little. "I've got to hand it to him. He knows how to spin things."

"Yeah, he's amazing sometimes" I say with a little smile.

Gale glances at me and it's clear that he didn't mean it quite like that but I'm so relieved that Peeta found a way to step up and keep Gale's family fed while we're away. He has no earthly reason to but I know he's doing it out of love for me and that is amazing.

"So..." says Gale after a moment. "What now?"

"Now... we wait."

"Wait for what?"

"Wait for the baby to be born so we can go home."

Gale's presence truly is a blessing and over the next months he is often the only thing that keeps me sane. I'm prohibited from leaving the rooms Snow has designated for me since no one can see me in my gravid state, soon I'm not even allowed to go out on the terrace, and it is by far the longest I have spent indoors in my entire life. I eat what I'm told to eat and when I'm told to eat it, I follow the regime of moderate physical exercise the doctor has set up for me and once a month I lie down on a table and let the doctor examine me. Soon after my arrival in the Capitol the baby starts to move in ways that I can feel. Each time I feel it a sense of anxiety runs through me and I think of the baby's father. Peeta would love this child to pieces and he would probably make an amazing father even at his young age but he will never know the child and, which saddens me more than anything, the child will never know him. How I wish babies remained completely still in the womb. Then I wouldn't have to face the fact that it is a living being that is growing inside of me, because of me, which will be taken away as soon as it no longer needs my body to sustain itself.

After two months in the Capitol the phone on my nightstand rings and I answer it, expecting it to be either Gale calling from his room or one of the nurses calling to bring me to dinner.

"Katniss?" a very familiar voice says on the other end. "It's Peeta." I'm so stunned I nearly drop the phone. "Hello? Katniss are you there?"

"Peeta!" I exclaim.

"Hi. They gave me your number, after some excessive nagging on my part..." The sound of his voice makes me sit down on the edge of the bed, covering my mouth with my hand to keep any inappropriate, hormone-induced sounds from escaping. "How are you? I've been worried sick about you back here. So have your mom and Prim. They told me you called when you first arrived but that they haven't heard from you since."

"I'm okay" I say. "I'm okay."

"Yeah?" He sounds hopeful. "So you'll be coming home soon?"

"Well... Not that okay. They say I need to stay in isolation for at least another two months." I don't know why I just specified it as two months when it will be another four before I give birth. "They have it under control, though. Treatments going and everything."

"So you feel okay?" asks Peeta, sounding worried.

"Yeah" I say. "Under the circumstances." Talking to him again is so nice that it makes me blurt out the next thought that passes through my head. "It is really nice to hear from you, Peeta. I feel much better just from hearing your voice."

From the short laugh I can tell I made him very happy by saying that. Probably a mistake since I don't want him to get the wrong impression. On the other hand it is true.

"Sorry to bring this up but did you hear about the Quarter Quell?" he then says.

Truthfully I had forgotten all about the Quarter Quell with everything else going on. I realize that it's April and only a little over a month until the next reaping. I'm supposed to be there on stage with Peeta and Haymitch as mentor to the new tributes but at least this one year I will be spared.

"No" I tell him. "What was the rule change?"

"No weapons in the arena other than what sponsors send in."

"What? That's preposterous."

"It's meant to symbolise that we depend on the Capitol for everything. Including the means of which to die, apparently."

"But Peeta... How are they going to get any action if the tributes don't have anything to kill one another with?"

"They'll still have their bare hands" points out Peeta. "There's another stipulation as well. At least one tribute has to die every day or the game makers will draw a name, presumably from a hat or something else ridiculous, and kill that person at midnight. To give a little extra incentive to use those bare hands. Nobody can feel safe, taken to the extreme."

"And may the odds be ever in your favour" I sigh.

"Yeah. It's a pretty sad day when you find yourself feeling just a little bit glad that you got reaped last year so you're safe from the arena this year." He chuckles joylessly. "Though who knows, maybe Snow will send me in this year too for having said that."

"I won't be able to mentor this year."

Brief silence.

"Yeah, I figured."

"I'm sorry you have to do it on your own. With Haymitch."

"Hey, when I come to the Capitol do you think..."

"If you're asking whether you can come and see me the answer is 'no'." I look down at my protruding belly. "They won't let you in to see me. Too great a risk that you might spread the infection."

"I hope I do catch it. Then I'd be staying with you instead of at the Game Headquarters."

"Trust me" I say. "You don't want to be in my position." I wince as I think of everything that's going on in my body. "It's unlike anything I've experienced before."

"Maybe you'll be feeling better by the time I get to the Capitol. It's not until next month."

"I won't be able to see you" I insist. Then I pause for a moment. "So how's Prim?"

We talk for a little while longer, about my family and his family and Haymitch's latest drunken stupor. Then he brings the conversation over to something I would rather not think about right now, or ever.

"I met with our wedding planner last week."

"Our wedding planner?"

"Her name is Lucia and she has an unhealthy obsession with all things candle and open fire. That whole 'girl on fire' thing doesn't seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. She talked about you having candles in your hair or some crazy thing like that. I was forced to point out to her that I would like a living, healthy bride to dance with that night and not the charred remains of a young woman in a hospital bed."

He keeps on talking but I barely hear the next ten or so sentences that come out of his mouth. In the middle of all this craziness I had somehow forgotten that as soon as I have delivered and been deemed ready to go back home I am expected to marry Peeta.

"It's weird" admits Peeta on the other end. "Planning a wedding like this... I don't know about you but I never pictured myself getting married any other way than a simple signing of documents, friends and family singing the song and then a toasting. Why on earth to people need doves at a wedding? I don't get it."

"Peeta can we talk about this some other time?"

"Yes. Of course." He pauses. "I should probably get off the line anyway."

"It was nice talking to you. I really mean that."

He says goodbye to me and I say it back. Then I feel the baby kicking and an overwhelming sadness comes over me. Part of me wishes badly that he were here right now so I could find some comfort in his blue eyes and his strength. I wish I didn't have to deceive him this way. More than anything I wish I was still a virgin and that our night on the train had never happened.

"Peeta..." I say, wanting desperately to tell him how sorry I am for taking his baby from him. Of course, I can't do that.

"Yeah?"

I pause for a moment.

"Call me again, sometime."

He chuckles warmly on the other end.

"I will. Get better, okay? I need you back here. Haymitch is prickly and Lucia is overwhelming and God I fear getting on that train with Effie without you there."

It surprises me that Effie didn't get her promotion but I decide not to comment. Instead we wrap up the conversation and hang up the phone. I look down at my belly and caress it carefully.

"Think your father will ever forgive me?" I whisper. The baby offers no answer.

Gale and I watch the reaping from a large TV screen in the common room. For some reason the staff seems to think it would devastate me to miss even one minute of the show and I decide not to protest. For now. I have every intention of playing my 'hormones' card at a suitable time but the reaping is one part I actually care to see. Both Gale and I have people we care about whose names are in those large glass bowls and we want to know who the tributes will be.

A fifteen year-old girl and thirteen year-old boy are reaped and brought up to the stage where Haymitch is drunk and Peeta looks like he's at a funeral. Strangely enough I kind of wish I was there with him, if for no other reason than to go through it with him. We're supposed to look after one another yet he's forced to handle this without me. Seeing him through the TV screen is strange. It's nice to get to see his face again but it's also a reminder of the things that will happen in the next few months.

Over the next few weeks we watch the Games. Gale spends most of his time in front of the TV since there's not much else to do but I can't stand seeing children die and I can't handle reliving the memories that come crawling back. The arena has been designed to aid the tributes in killing one another with one mountain section where you could pick up a rock and bludgeon someone or push them over a cliff, one woodland area where some of the trees have vines to strangle someone with and one area has a large waterfall from which someone could tumble to a dramatic death. Around the cornucopia there isn't a single weapon laid out and only a few supplies. With a sigh I note to Gale that it's going to be an unusually boring year, especially for a Quarter Quell. He thinks I'm jaded but the fact that it looks boring is cause for concern to me. It makes me wonder what tricks the game makers have up their sleeves to make it dramatic.

The lack of a bloodbath at the cornucopia does make the games start off less dramatic and I find myself wondering if Plutarch Heavensbee will have a job, or a pulse, once the Games are over. Even Caesar Flickerman sounds rather bored commenting on the event. Nobody dies at the cornucopia – surely a Hunger Games first – and the tributes scatter rather quickly. Of course it doesn't stay deathless for very long. This year's Careers manage to corner the three youngest tributes and herd them towards the mountain part of the arena. There they bash in their heads with rocks and I keep my eyes closed for the duration, feeling like I'm going to be sick.

"Not a good year for District 12" mutters Gale.

I open my eyes and give him a questioning look.

"What do you mean?"

"Careers aren't the only ones who can kill."

I turn my head to the TV screen where the boy from Nine has snuck into the woods and ambushed the boy from Twelve. The tribute from our district is grabbed from behind and strangled. A shiver runs down my spine. I would have known that boy if I hadn't been sitting here with a six month pregnant belly. I would have been his mentor. I would have eaten with him for a week, coached him on his training, advised him, probably comforted him. How is Peeta feeling right now? Without realizing it I protectively caress my stomach, finding some measure of comfort knowing that at least I'll never have to watch this child die on TV.

The games last for almost three weeks and the girl from our district is the fifteenth person to die, eleven days in. She gets her throat slit by a knife given to the girl from Four by a sponsor. The Games are eventually won by the boy from Two, who nearly becomes a victor for only a few minutes as the final battle takes place by the waterfall and the boy from Seven nearly pulls him down into the waterfall with him. Gale watches almost all of the Games but I mostly just watch the evening broadcasts that sum up the events of the day. There's no getting around watching that unless you're really sick or very busy with something super important. When the Games are over and we watch the interviews I breathe a sigh of relief that it's eleven more months before we have to go through it again.

Peeta calls me once he's back home and we talk for a while but the conversation is stilted. I can tell he wants to talk to me about his experience as a mentor but we are probably being listened so he can't talk of all the horrors he needs to get off his chest. For my part I don't want to talk about my fake disease since I don't know what to say if asked about any details and I certainly can't talk to him about his unborn child who is making me look gigantic at the moment and making me feel a million different things I don't know how to handle.

Peeta brings up the wedding plans and I don't want to talk about that either but I realize I'll have to hear about it sooner or later so I might as well get it over with right now. He tries to sound upbeat and excited in case we're being listened on but he's too weary and downtrodden to manage. After only a minute or two I claim to be feeling ill and we end the conversation so that I can go to bed and get some rest. I wonder to myself if I will hear Peeta's voice again before the baby is born.

The intensity of the pain frightens me. It's only been an hour since it started and already it's got me crying out when it peaks. I know from my mother that a first time mother can be in labour for more than twenty hours and I don't even want to imagine how badly it will hurt at that point. Being in a sterile room full of non-approachable nurses doesn't help much either. I was determined never to have children but if the situation ever did arise I guess I assumed my mother would be there and help me through it. Well my mother is nowhere to be found and neither is the father of the child.

The real father, anyway. The official father comes walking through the door thirty minutes after I've been brought to the room where the child will be born. Gale looks pale and nervous but I can see determination in his eyes. He will be as good a labour coach as anyone, staying strong and steady and reliable. He's my hunting partner and I trust him completely. I know he can support me through this and I'm eternally thankful that Snow had him brought here.

"How are you doing, there, Catnip?" he asks.

"Where are the pain drugs?" I snap at one of the nurses by way of answering.

"She's doing fine" sighs the nurse to Gale. "The doctor will be here once he's had his breakfast and he'll administer something to make her not feel the pain."

"It's 5:40" remarks Gale. "When the hell will he be done with breakfast?"

"He should be out of bed in about two hours."

"Get him now!" I yell, at the peak of another contraction.

Gale takes a seat next to me and takes my hand.

"Katniss, it is alright" he says soothingly. "We'll get him here as soon as we can. Just hold on a little longer."

After about an hour the doctor does come and administers a drug that makes the pain go away completely for several hours. During that time I remain in bed, gazing absentmindedly at the monitor that shows when I'm having a contraction. Gale is with me the whole time, knowing me well enough to know when I don't want to talk, which is most of the time. For the past month I have been eager for the pregnancy to be over with but now that it's happening I'm so afraid that I don't know what to do with myself. These are the last few hours I have with my child. Once the birth is over I will never see him or her or ever even know how he or she is doing. Each contraction showed by the monitor is one step closer to the moment when my baby and I part ways for life. It's enough to make you cry your eyes out but I feel strangely numb about it, like I can't really fathom it.

By and by the drugs begin to wear off and I'm given something else, something lighter. They want me to be able to feel during the delivery in order for me to be able to push. Nineteen hours after the first contraction they place my legs on stirrups, one nurse holding each leg, and I'm instructed to push with the next contraction. The experience is so utterly humiliating and de-humanizing that I wonder if this is how they do it for the Capitol women or if they simply don't care to make me feel comfortable since I'm merely a District 12 girl providing a baby for a sterile Capitol couple, Hunger Games victor or not.

My hair, styled in the same two braids I wore at the reaping last year, sticks to my face and I'm sweating profusely. Every muscle in my body seems to ache and I just want to hit the pause button and sleep for a day. The medicine they've got me on takes away about two thirds of the pain, or so they tell me, but it still feels like hell on earth. It's not just the pain, but the feeling of something big pushing through makes me nauseated, feeling like I'm being invaded even though technically the process is the opposite of invasion.

On top of all of that there are currently five people staring directly at my crotch, which, thankfully, is covered by a sheet held over my legs. I am not comfortable with Gale seeing me that exposed, especially not when my intimate parts are being extended and distorted this way. Gale stays by my head, holding my hand, wiping my forehead and coaching me as best he can. He's doing a good job, knowing me well enough to know how to encourage me, yet I find that I long for Peeta in this moment. Not because he's the father but because he has a way of comforting me by his mere presence and he has a way of making me feel like I can do the impossible like no one else can. He's the one who was there beside me through the greatest trial of my life up until this point and I miss his company and support.

I push when they tell me to, almost against my own will. The pain makes me cry out and one of the nurses instructs me to save my breath and focus my energy on pushing instead.

"Go to hell!" I yell through my pain.

"You're doing good, Katniss" insists Gale.

"Then why the hell is this taking so damn long?"

The pain of the contraction fades and I swallow the desire to ask how much longer it's going to be. Somehow I had imagined that the delivery part of the program would take only a few minutes but it's been going on for close to an hour by now and I'm starting to wonder if I've made any actual progress at all. It's hard to tell when everything hurts.

I get maybe a minute's reprieve between the pains and I spend them with my eyes closed, gathering my breath and fighting the tears that want to come. How many times have I heard my mother comfort women in labour by telling them that it will all be worth it once they get to hold their baby in their arms? For me there is no such bonus at the end, only another kind of pain, one that I am petrified of having to face.

"Come on Katniss, time to push again" says the friendliest of the nurses, the one with a firm grip of my right leg.

"Forget it, I can't" I whimper.

"Like hell you can't" says Gale. "Come on, Katniss. Just one push at a time."

"That's easy for you to say" I cry, my body forcing me to push. I can't imagine how anyone has ever done this with no pain relief whatsoever. "Aaah, I feel like I'm tearing apart!"

"You are" says one of the not-so-helpful nurses calmly. "It happens."

I can't manage to form a response. After another ten or so pushes the doctor announces that he can see the head and I begin to feel like this might all be over soon, for better or for worse. Still it takes another five or ten minutes before I'm finally told that the head is out and I can stop pushing. With a cry of relief I let my head fall back against the pillows, my eyes closed and my body feeling worse than it ever did in the arena.

"Is it over?" I ask Gale.

Then I hear the sound of a baby crying and my hands shoot up to cover my ears. I know what comes next. The doctor will announce if the baby is healthy or not and he will announce the sex of the child. I can't stand to hear the last part, nor can I bear to look at my baby. It's actually here now. Mine and Peeta's child, conceived by a pair of virgins in a not-so-pleasurable experience on a train heading back to District 12 from a Victory Tour. A life that is here beyond all logic and reason and in spite of all the odds. Now it is to be taken away, my allotted time with him or her is up and I know that the only way I will be able to do this if I don't know the gender and I don't see the child.

I'm barely aware of Gale leaving my side or the activities going on between my legs, nor do I pay any attention to the nurse who I know is trying to tell me to open my eyes and take my hands away from my ears. Shaking with sobs I stay the way I am until the muffled sounds of the baby's cries abruptly end as it is taken out of the room and a door closes between us. My hands leave my ears and I try to make them stop trembling but I can't seem to be able to.

"Gale?" I say. "Is the baby gone?"

"Yes, they took-"

"Wait!" I say. "Don't... Don't tell me whether it is a boy or a girl. Please, I can't bear to know. I can't know anything at all about this child or I will never be able to sign those documents."

He sits down beside me and gently strokes my sweaty forehead.

"It's okay, Catnip" he says soothingly. "You did great. You did perfect. I won't tell you whether it's a boy or a girl, I promise."

I open my eyes and see the sympathy, support and love in his face when he looks back at me.

"It's over" I sob.

"Yes... I suppose it is."

"Our child has been taken away."

"Get some rest, Catnip" says Gale gently, placing a kiss on my forehead.

It's strange but even though I'm exhausted and I've been up since the early hours of the morning I can't sleep. I keep my eyes closed for a while so that people, Gale included, will leave me alone but it only works partially. I still have to deliver the afterbirth and someone comes to suture me up, ensuring me that my future husband won't be able to tell anything has been done down there, which I'm far too exhausted and emotional to feel embarrassed about. It's not like Peeta actually got a look before anyway and I'm fairly certain he never will. Then another nurse massages my uterus through my belly which probably would have hurt if I hadn't been given strong pain medications now that the ability to push is no longer necessary.

My eyes open again when a man I recognise as Snow's secretary comes into the room with the adoption papers for me and Gale to sign. We signed one set of papers when we first arrived to the Capitol, confirming our intent to give the child away, and now that the baby has been born we have to sign papers confirming that we still feel the same way. I have a strong feeling that none of this paperwork is actually needed and that Snow can take the child from me whether I consent to it or not. The documents are probably his way of torturing me if the day comes when I regret the adoption. He will be able to point out to me that I willingly signed the documents that terminate all my rights to the life I created.

After the documents have been signed the nicest of the nurses takes Gale out of the room and I close my eyes again, trying not to feel anything at all. If only the drugs had the same numbing effect on my emotions as on my body. I feel so unbelievably empty and alone, like there's nothing in the world that could make me feel complete again. A few minutes later Gale comes back and says my name. Wearily I look up at him and the apologetic look on his face makes me feel even worse.

"Katniss... Katniss there is one more thing you have to do."

"What?" I ask in a tired monotone. "Leave a few litres of blood for their blood bank in case the child ever needs it?"

He steps closer and looks even more apologetic.

"I'm so sorry, Katniss, but... you need to nurse the baby."

I lift myself up on my elbows, eyes now wide open.

"What?"

"They say it's necessary for the mother to-"

"I'm not a mother!" I snap, unable to stand the word in connection to myself.

"They say it's necessary for the woman who has given birth to give the breast to the child in its first hours. Something about antibodies or whatever in the initial milk..."

"Tell them to find somebody else who just had a baby and let her nurse."

"It has to be you, Katniss. I'm sorry."

"I can't!" I burst out, new tears falling down my face. "Gale I can't. Please, please don't ask this of me."

He walks up to me and pulls me into a hug, letting me sob against his shoulder for a few minutes. He then speaks to me in a soothing voice, gently caressing the back of my head.

"I know how difficult this is for you but you can do it. It's just one more thing for you to do for your baby."

"It's not my baby." I make a half hearted attempt at stilling my sobs. "Gale I can't even look at the baby; how am I supposed to be able to hold it?"

"Katniss..." Gently Gale takes a seat on the bed next to me. "You can't force the baby from your mind and pretend it never existed by refusing to look or touch. You will always be someone who gave birth to a child, nothing can change that. Nurse the baby. I think it would be good for you. You get the chance to say goodbye and to give your child one last parting gift. You've done so much to ensure this child's future, why stop now when there's just one more thing left to do?"

"Okay" I nod after a moment, not sure where I'm finding the strength to agree to this. "Okay, for the baby's sake. But Gale I can't look at the baby. I just can't."

"It's going to be tricky to nurse without looking" he points out.

"One of the nurses will have to help me."

"Okay" he nods softly and gets up from the bed.

I take a deep breath and gather what strength I have left, closing my eyes again. I keep them firmly shut as one of the nurses brings the baby into the room and helps me unbutton my hospital gown and expose my left breast. I can hear the little noises made by the infant and it takes everything I've got not to begin to cry again. My eyes remain closed as the baby is placed in my arms. For a second I feel a bit relieved. The baby is wrapped in a blanket so all I can really feel of him or her is the weight. Then a tiny mouth nuzzles against my breast and, with some help from the nurse, latches on to my nipple. I wince as the baby begins to suckle. It's painful on so many levels but most of all emotionally.

I sit there for a while, silent tears falling down my cheeks, the little child nursing from my breast. Peeta's and my baby. I vaguely remember what it felt like that night on the train when Peeta sucked on my nipples. He only did it briefly but it felt nicer than this. I pray fervently that he won't ever find out about this baby's existence because I know without a doubt that he would hate me for denying him the right to be here.

The little child seems strong, suckling without hesitation. Hungry. That's fitting. I still can't comprehend that the creature in my arms is alive, a product of me and Peeta. Still, it's fitting, too. Peeta brings life. He helped me survive the arena and now he has made new life together with me.

The nurse softly urges me to open my eyes and look at the baby but I refuse. I cannot have that kind of connection; I can't put a tiny little face or even the hand that presses against my breast to the person I'm about to give up for all eternity. I'm petrified that I might see myself or Prim in the baby and even more scared I might see Peeta. I know I can't have a face to attribute to the longing I will forever be feeling because if so I won't ever be able to close my eyes again without seeing that tiny little person. He or she can't become an individual to me or I won't survive the loss.

Finally, at long last, the baby has had enough to eat and the nurse takes him or her away again. Once the baby is gone and my eyes have opened they ask me to move from the bed to a wheelchair and then they take me to a different room to rest. I'm asked if I want Gale to come and keep me company but I want to be alone. I climb into the bed, pulling the blanket up around me and curling up on my side, staring blankly out the window without seeing a thing. Never in my life have I felt more alone. Never have I longed for someone as much as I do now, not even when my father had just died. For a moment I don't even know for sure if it's the baby I long for or the baby's father. It doesn't really matter. Neither one of them can be here with me.

"Forgive me" I whisper to them both, more tears falling down my face. "Forgive me, please."

Aching both physically and emotionally I cry myself to sleep that night, wondering how I will ever be able to look Peeta in the eye again. After no more than an hour I wake up from a nightmare and I wish with every part of my being that Peeta was here holding me and making me feel safe and that the soft baby blue blanket I'm nuzzling against is our baby and not just the blanket the baby was wrapped around when I was nursing.

I honestly don't know why my stories keep including babies and pregnancies... In this case, though, the baby is obviously not going to be featured much.

Thanks for reading!