CHAPTER 1. The Reaping

Katniss Everdeen closed her eyes and released the breath she'd been holding.

The hot summer sun kissed her cheeks, and she felt its warmth spreading through her body. The tiniest of smiles danced on her lips.

Gradually, her muscles relaxed. With every passing second, she felt lighter, freer, happier. She wanted to stretch her limbs as far as they could go and jump; to open her eyes and run, as fast as her legs would take her, towards her sister. She wanted to hold Prim in her arms and lift her up, spinning her around in the air. Prim had always loved that. She said it almost felt like flying.

The thought made Katniss want to chuckle, but she stopped herself. This wasn't the right time for public displays of euphoria. Not when she was in the middle of the town square, surrounded by people. Not when Tessa Monroe, the 15-year old girl old whose name had been called, was making her way towards the stage in front of them; walking in a straight line towards imminent death.

Effie Trinket's shrill voice brought Katniss back to reality. "And now, for the boys," she announced.

Katniss opened her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath; only two words, repeated incessantly, occupied her thoughts. Not Gale. Not Gale. Not Gale. Not…

"Peeta Mellark," Effie trilled from the stage.

Katniss's eyes widened in surprise, and her hand rushed to cover her mouth. For a few seconds, the world stood still. A cold chill ran through her spine, and she forgot to release the breath she'd just taken.

She closed her eyes, desperately trying to block the world around her. The thick warm air she was holding burned her lungs, and she forced herself to release it. After managing a few shaky breaths, she shook her head in disbelief. How is this even possible, she thought, how many entries could he have had in that reaping bowl?

Heavy, slow footsteps approached her. She opened her eyes and turned towards the sound.

There he was, Peeta Mellark, walking along the row of 16-year olds, making his way towards the center aisle that would lead him onto the stage. His broad shoulders were hunched forwards, and his blue eyes were trained on the ground, fear, and confusion written all over his face.

Every muscle in her body tensed. She felt like a tight bow, ready to snap. She trained her eyes on the blond merchant boy and wished he would look up like he'd done so many times before. She needed those blue eyes of his to land briefly on hers so that she could somehow comfort him. But he never looked up and, even if he had, what could she have done for him?

Peeta reached the stage, and Effie Trinket introduced him to his district partner. For the first time since his name had been called Peeta looked up. He shook Tessa's hand and gave her a small smile while holding her gaze.

Tessa looked away from him as soon as the handshake was over, clearly trying to distance herself from her fellow tribute. It was pretty typical behavior. Why would you befriend someone you were meant to kill in a few days time?

Watching the exchange, Katniss couldn't help but wonder if Tessa knew just how kind and friendly Peeta Mellark normally was. Not that she had ever spoken to him, of course. But she had been on the receiving end of his kindness once, and she had seen him around often enough. Always surrounded by people, a smile dancing on his lips and a warm glow in his eyes.

What was going to happen now, she wondered, to the compassionate boy who'd taken a beating to feed a perfect stranger? A perfect stranger who still hasn't thanked him for his generosity, she reminded herself.

With the introductions out of the way, Effie Trinket concluded the ceremony with the same information she repeated every year.

"Be sure to tune in to tonight's national broadcast, it will feature the reaping ceremonies on all 12 districts," she chirped.

Then she turned around, clapped her hands twice to draw the attention of the teenagers assembled on the stage, and went on to usher them into the justice building. As soon as Effie and the tributes disappeared, the crowd let out a collective sigh. The nightmare was over. They were safe. They had been granted one more year.

The crowd assembled on the square began to disperse; friends and siblings found each other and embraced. Shy bouts of nervous laughter rang through the air.

For a few minutes, everyone was happy, everyone was at peace. Everyone. Except for a 16-year old boy, a 15-year old girl, and both of their families.

But Katniss didn't move. She stood, rooted to her spot, unable to take her eyes away from the door which led into the justice building; the door Peeta Mellark had just disappeared into.

She wondered if he was feeling any better now, away from the district's sad eyes. For the next hour, he was going to be trapped inside the justice building, saying goodbye to his family and friends.

She didn't even want to imagine how horrible that would be, being forced to leave her sister behind.

She shook her head. I don't need to worry about that today. I'm safe. Prim is safe. The thought brought a small smile back to her lips. Prim was safe.

Just as these thoughts flashed through her mind, she heard a deep voice calling out her name. She turned around to find Gale. He was rushing towards her with outstretched arms and bright smile hanging on his lips.

"We made it!" he said. "I'm done! I'm free, Catnip. I'm free!"

Before she could even blink, he was enveloping her in a crushing hug and lifting her off the ground.

"Yes," she managed. "Congratulations, Gale." She tried to sound enthusiastic, but it fell a little flat.

Gale let go of her and took in her serious expression.

"Well, I know you're not out in the clear yet," he said, in what sounded almost like an apology. "But you're off the hook for one more year, you know? And Prim is as safe as she can be. So why are you still standing here, looking as stiff as a board?"

"I'm not as stiff as a board!"

"Hmm, you don't look particularly festive either."

Just as she was about to tell him that being granted a one-year reprieve was not something she felt like celebrating she saw Prim walking towards them.

"Hey, little duck!" Katniss greeted her sister. "See? I told you there was nothing for you to worry about."

The younger girl stepped into her sister's arms and buried her face in the older girl's chest.

"It was terrifying," Prim admitted after a moment. "And, I feel terrible for Tessa and Peeta. We'll probably never see them again."

Katniss rubbed her sister's back soothingly and shook her head.

"We shouldn't count them out just yet, little duck. They might come back," she said, trying to sound optimistic.

"Come on Catnip, be realistic," Gale intervened "how many tributes from Twelve have actually made it back? I'm sorry, I don't mean to be cruel, but Prim's right. Chances are we'll never see any of them again."

She knew her friend was only being practical, but she didn't want to accept he was right. A flash of hot anger ran through her body, heating her temper.

"So, what are we supposed to do now, huh? Just forget about them?" she countered. "They haven't even left the justice building yet, and you're already celebrating!" The anger seeping into her voice startled her, but she kept firm.

Prim took a small step back and studied her sister.

Katniss glowered under Gale's questioning look. She knew he was probably wondering what had gotten into her. She was never this concerned about people she wasn't related to and, after the last two reapings, she had celebrated her good fortune by joining Gale and some of their neighbors over by the Meadow.

"Are you ok?" Prim asked.

"Yes, little duck, I'm all right. It's just… How would you feel Gale?" she demanded as she turned to face her friend. "If it had been someone you knew, someone who had been kind to you? Would you react any differently? Would you feel anything besides relief at not being chosen? Would you still feel like celebrating your good luck?"

Gale studied her face for a moment, a sad cloud marred his features. "I'm sorry, Catnip, I didn't realize…" His shoulders slumped in defeat. "I didn't know you were friends with her." Suddenly, his eyes lit up. "You know what, though? You're right. They're still here. I bet you could still go in to see her if you wanted to."

Katniss stood still, was this something she wanted to do, she wondered.

She'd already waited five years to thank the baker's son for the incredible gift he'd given her. And, under normal circumstances, she probably would have waited for five more. But these weren't normal circumstances, and though she hated admitting it, Prim and Gale were probably right. There was a big chance that she'd never get to see him again. Was she willing to live with this debt for the rest of her life? Would she be able to live with herself knowing that she'd never thanked him; that she'd never acknowledged what he'd done for her?

She didn't have to wonder long. She knew what the answer was. Peeta Mellark had helped her when no one else would, and thanking him for his kindness was the least she could do.

She thanked Gale for the suggestion and turned to face her sister to assure her that she was fine and that she could go to the Justice Building on her own.

"Tell mom I'll be home as soon as I'm done here, alright?"

Prim nodded and hugged her once more before finally letting go.

Katniss was already walking towards the Justice Building when Gale called out.

"Hey, Catnip, I can wait here for you if you like."

She turned around to face him but kept on walking backward.

"Thanks, Gale, but that's not necessary. I'll see you tomorrow, ok?"

"Tomorrow?" He frowned. "Aren't you coming to the Meadow later?"

"Nope, not this year. Have fun, though. I'll see you tomorrow."

And with that she turned around, effectively ending their conversation.

As she walked away, she realized she hadn't corrected Gale. Why had he assumed she was talking about Tessa? Was it because she was a girl, or because she was Seam?

She knew her friend had no love for the district's merchants. He was always complaining about how their lives were so much easier than those of the district's miners. He'd spend hours on end criticizing the unfairness of a system which allowed merchants to live their lives without asking for help from the state while it forced the poor miners' families to ask for rations. Meager rations. Rations that meant adding their names more times into the reaping bowl; rations that meant that the odds were never in their favor.

But the odds were a funny thing, weren't they? Because Gale, the Seam boy with 42 entries was out in the Meadow celebrating with his friends while Peeta -the merchant boy who'd only had five pieces of paper inside that horrible bowl- was being whisked away to the Capitol. So how was that fair? As far as she could tell, being a merchant hadn't kept Peeta safe.

As she thought about it, she realized she didn't mind the misunderstanding. Not one bit. She had always kept her brief encounter with Peeta Mellark a secret. She hadn't wanted to cause him any more trouble than she already had.

Strangely enough, he'd never confronted her about it. He'd never asked for anything. In a way, she hated him for that. It would have been easier to deal with his reproach than with the guilt that still gnawed at her each time she remembered the incident.

If she hadn't been able to discuss the episode with Peeta, she didn't see why she had to discuss it with anyone else. Besides, it wasn't like she owed Gale Hawthorne any explanations anyway.

As soon as she reached the Justice Building, she saw how silly her idea had been. In the time it had taken her to make up her mind and walk over there, a large group of people had gathered.

She'd hardly walked through the door when a Peacekeeper stopped her. The officer, one of Greasy Sae's regular customers, wasted no time in telling her that the tributes' visiting timeslots had already been filled.

Her chest tightened, and tears began to well behind her eyes. This is it then, she thought. I waited too long. I never said anything, and now Peeta will be gone.

Her throat closed, making it impossible for her to breathe. She gasped for air.

Closing her eyes, Katniss brought her hand to her forehead. The feeling of her fingers tracing slow circles on her brow comforted her, and she managed to get her breathing under control. She opened her eyes and faced the Peacekeeper once more.

The officer's eyes were friendly and pained. In a soft murmur that sounded more like an apology than an instruction, he told her she was free to stay in the lobby until the tributes were escorted to the train station.

"You might be able to catch one last glimpse of your friend before she leaves the district. Who knows? You might even get to say goodbye," he added with a sad smile and a small wink.

Katniss nodded in understanding and moved over to the far wall at the other side of the room.

She had been so disappointed that she'd barely registered the Peacekeeper's words. But, once she'd settled in her spot, she felt a sudden rush of thick liquid rage coursing through her veins.

What is it with the people in this district? She thought. I'm not here to say 'goodbye'. I'm here to say 'thank you'.

She could feel her frustration getting the better of her, so she squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and tried to focus all her attention on the door across the hall.

Whatever she felt, however she felt, was not important. The only thing that mattered was that the baker's son was on the other side of that door. Even if she couldn't speak to him, she was going to be there for him. It was literally the least she could do.

Minutes went by. People came and went. Katniss stood on her spot and waited.

Her nerves were frayed, she was growing restless. She hated feeling powerless. She was so anxious she almost laughed out loud when she realized her interactions with Peeta Mellark always seemed to be fueled by panic.

She still remembered how miserable she'd been that day five years before, as ice-cold rain pelted her skin, and her empty stomach grumbled. Her father was gone, and her mother had withdrawn into herself, leaving Katniss and Prim to manage on their own.

There was nothing to eat at home, and the money the state had given her had run out. She'd been truly desperate. She'd lost all hope.

That's when she'd seen him, looking well fed and strong, as he'd stepped out of the bakery's back door with two loaves of burnt bread cradled in his arms and a big red welt under his eye.

Without so much as a glance, he'd thrown the loaves in her direction, and he'd hurried back inside.

She'd taken the bread, tucked it under her shirt, and ran away as fast as her legs could carry her. She hadn't stopped running until she'd reached the Seam. The one place where she felt like she could breathe again without being judged by those who didn't have to rummage through empty trash cans to feed their families.

That bread had filled Prim's belly, and it had given Katniss the strength to carry on.

She'd never thanked Peeta for it. But she hadn't forgotten. How could she?

Peeta Mellark had been the only person in the entire district who had been willing to help her when she'd needed it the most, and he'd received nothing in return. Well, nothing from Katniss, anyway. He had received a beating from his mother, though. A thrashing which had left him with a purple eye for the better part of a fortnight, and a chipped tooth for the better part of a year.

Katniss's heart had hurt every time he spoke in class in the months that followed the incident. The soft lisp that distorted his words a constant reminder of just how much he'd done for her.

She had wanted to thank him for the gesture, many times. But she'd never found the right moment.

She shook her head as she reminded herself that he was still across the hallway, behind that damned door. He wasn't on his way to the Capitol. Not yet. She might still get to talk to him, to finally thank him for his generosity. Maybe knowing how he'd saved her once would cheer him up. It might motivate him actually, to give it a try. That was all he really needed, she thought, a little motivation.

Time dragged on, and her mind wandered restlessly, coming up with different scenarios of what might happen once Peeta stepped out into the hallway.

She imagined him smiling warmly at her, keeping those deep blue eyes of his trained on hers. She could almost see him opening his arms out to her as she walked into his embrace and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight as she thanked him for what he'd done for her. She could see herself, standing on the tips of her toes, her cheek pressed against his, her lips a hairsbreadth away from the shell of his ear as she whispered soft assurances that no one else could hear. She would remind him of his strength, of his skill as a wrestler, and of the fact that he was smart. Others had survived on much less. So why wouldn't he?

The sound of a door opening brought her back to her senses. Her cheeks flushed furiously as she recalled what she'd been thinking about. Where had those ideas come from, she wondered?

The first one to leave the room was Rye, Peeta's middle brother, looking as white as a sheet. As soon as the door closed behind him, he collapsed in a heap on the floor where he proceeded to run his fingers through his hair and mutter quietly to himself. His parents came out a couple of minutes later. Mr. Mellark rushed to help his son while his wife walked towards the exit.

Her determined footsteps resounded loudly on the tiled floor.

The baker's face was stained with tears. Katniss didn't even have to strain her ears to hear his voice breaking as he tried to get his son to stand up.

For a split second, she wanted to hate Rye. She wanted to hate him for not being able to keep his emotions under control. She wanted to hate him for acting like he was the one who'd been just sentenced to death. But, more importantly, she wanted to hate him for not taking his younger brother's place.

She tried hating him. She tried with all her might. But she couldn't. Who was she to ask him to give up his life for someone else's? She couldn't expect him to forget his dreams, and to cancel his future, just because some asinine government official had decided to invite his brother to a death match. Most people she knew wouldn't do it. She couldn't even remember the last time someone from Twelve had volunteered for the Games.

Eventually, Mr. Mellark managed to get his middle son to stand up. He wrapped an arm around the young man's shoulders, and slowly led him out of the building. Katniss heard the door closing once again. With all the commotion, she hadn't been paying attention to the other visitors, and she didn't know who had gone inside.

Tessa's parents came out of the girl's room a few minutes later. Their eyes were puffy and red. A resigned sense of defeat hung from their shoulders. Her eyes followed them as they traveled along the same path the Mellarks had taken, leaving their daughter inside the cold stone building and walking out into the scorching summer heat.

Minutes ticked away. People came and went. Katniss waited.

There were many familiar faces among Peeta's visitors. Most of them were kids her age. Merchant kids she had shared a classroom with, but whom she'd never spoken to.

They were boys and girls, who cared about parties, and clothes, and apprenticeships in their families' businesses; teenagers who hadn't been burdened with the task of caring for their younger siblings after their parents' deaths, classmates who were Peeta's friends. She'd spent her life ignoring them, and now she briefly wished she hadn't; if only so that she could ask them about Peeta's state of mind. Were they comforting him? Were they giving him hope? Or were they merely commiserating with him, telling him how sorry they were, and saying goodbye?

The door opened once again, and Katniss's eyes widened in surprise. Out of all the kids in town, she had never expected to see the quiet and reserved Madge Undersee coming out of Peeta's room.

The gentle, soft-spoken teenager was one of Katniss's best friends and, for a split second, Katniss considered waving her over to her spot. But one look into the blond girl's vacant stare quickly changed her mind.

Madge didn't want to be bothered.

Mayor Undersee's daughter lowered her eyes to the ground and walked towards the exit. She didn't look up once. If she had, she would have noticed Katniss's furrowed brow following her every movement.

The door opened one last time, and a Peacekeeper stepped out into the hallway. Peeta Mellark stood a few steps behind.

A cold shiver ran along Katniss's spine at the sight of him.

Puffy eyes. Tear-stained cheeks. Peeta looked weak and frightened. It was almost as if he'd already given up.

Something between a sigh and a quiet sob escaped Katniss's lips.

Peeta turned towards the sound. His eyes landed on Katniss's and, for once, he didn't look away.

Neither did she.

Peeta's eyes widened. The smallest of gasps escaped his trembling lips.

She held his stare.

Her heart thrummed madly inside her chest making her whole body buzz with nervous energy. She was so anxious she could hardly breathe, but she didn't look away. She held onto Peeta's gaze like it was a lifeline, her last connection to the generous, selfless boy who had given her hope.

Thoughts bounced madly inside her head. She was overwhelmed by everything she wanted to say to him. She desperately needed him to know how much he meant to her, and how much she regretted the words she'd never said.

Words. Katniss had never been good with words.

Her heart rate slowed as she silently hoped the merchant boy would understand what her eyes were screaming, what her lips couldn't say.

A few steps down the hallway Tessa's door opened. A peacekeeper stepped out of the girl's room.

Katniss didn't move a muscle.

Time stood still as Peeta's eyes bore into hers, like two drills, piercing their way into her thoughts.

Suddenly, everything changed.

Peeta's actions were subtle, but there was no mistaking their meaning. The baker's son straightened his stance and squared his shoulders. He locked his jaw, and nodded, just once.

Katniss smiled.

The scared, hesitant boy who had come out of the room was gone. In just a few seconds, he had turned into a man. A man who looked like he could hold his ground, and like he had something to prove, a man who seemed to be on a mission.

Outside, peacekeepers were issuing instructions. The train station's whistle rang.

Peeta turned towards the exit, following his peacekeeper's lead, and effectively ending his wordless conversation with Katniss.

Visiting hours were over. It was time to go.

Officers and tributes began moving towards the exit.

A thick lump settled on Katniss's throat. Impotence and a sense of emptiness washed over her as she watched the boy who had helped her survive the worst days of her life walking out of the building, and into the train station.

XXXXX

AN. I want to thank the lovely AlwaysEverlark for the beautiful banner she made for this story.

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The Hunger Games Trilogy is the property of Suzanne Collins. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.