It's Always Been You

Chapter Ten; The Quell

I sit close to Prim, my arms wrapped around her protectively while my mother sits to my right. I don't know why I am nervous for this year's quell. It can't be any worse than the last, but I can't help but fear that Prim will be reaped. The last thing I'd ever want to do is mentor my own sister for the games. This year, I can't volunteer. I can only help whatever poor child is forced to go through what I know all too well.

"You won't be reaped, Prim." I say, shaking my head. "The Capitol adores you. I'm not even sure that your name is in the bowl anymore. They would protest and create more problems than they're used to." I assure her, attempting to convince myself too. She nods slowly, but I can tell she doesn't believe me. I said the same thing to her last year. The odds were entirely in her favor.

My attention is brought to the screen, where I can see President Snow holding an envelope as his podium. He gives his usual speech about how the quarter quell is significant, but I don't listen at all. I don't listen until I see him tearing the envelope carefully, holding a small card in front of his face. He smirks, nodding his head. "This year, only children of the ages ten through fourteen will be reaped."

My heart sinks, and I look over to my mother who has a horrified expression on her face. I shake my head, choking back tears. There is a chance that I will be mentoring a ten year old to fight to their death. I feel sick. I stand, basically pushing Prim out of my arms. At this moment, I don't seem to care what anyone thinks of me, not even Prim. I am so outraged, I wish I could just kill Snow. I start to run as fast as my feet will carry me. I'm not sure where, but I can't go home. I don't want to be alone. I need Peeta more than anyone right now.

The bakery comes into view, and the first person I see through the window is Peeta's mother. His father is standing next to her, giving some children cookies. They could be the children I will mentor. I open the bakery door, catching my breath. I probably look mad, with tears running down my cheeks. Luckily, the children are the only people in the bakery. I walk to the front desk, basically pleading to see Peeta.

"Can I talk to Peeta, please?" I choke. His mother laughs at the sight of me, giving me an awful look.

"Look what the cat dragged in," she hisses, shooing me away. "Can someone please take the trash out?"

"Stop that!" Peeta's father says, pushing her away from me. "You have no right to treat the poor girl like that." I am so overwhelmed with the quarter quell, I don't take Peeta's mother's words to heart. I truly don't care what the woman has to say to me. She scoffs at her husband, and he leads her back into the kitchen. I shutter softly, attempting to hold myself together. Peeta's father comes back out, offering me a smile. "I am so sorry about her," he whispers, looking down at the counter to avoid eye contact. "Peeta is taking some things out of the oven. He's on his way back."

"Okay, thank you." I murmur, turning to sit down at a table. I bury my head into my hands, letting the tears flow. I let out silent sobs for what feels like hours until Peeta comes out of the kitchen with some cookies on a plate. When he sees me, he hurriedly attempts to comfort me.

"Katniss, what happened?" He asks, rubbing my back. I let out a short sob, looking into his eyes. "Can we just go home, please? I just... I can't live without you today."

"Yes, of course." He whispers, leading me out of the bakery, his arm staying wrapped around me. We start our walk back to our house, and I'm finally able to speak.

"The quarter quell," I whisper, biting my lip. "Did you see it?"

"I missed it. I was baking some bread and it completely slipped my mind. What are they doing this year?"

"It's horrible, Peeta!" I say, letting out a short sob. "They're only reaping children between the ages of ten and fourteen! We could mentor a ten year old!" I somehow lose my balance, falling to the ground in sobs. Peeta quickly sits next to me, pulling me onto his lap and stroking my hair.

"It's okay." He whispers, kissing the top of my head. "We can't change anything, Katniss. It is beyond our power. We will just help these children in the best way that we can. It will be okay."

I shutter as I attempt to stop the tears from forming. I bury my head into his chest, but I quickly feel sick. "I-" I whisper, standing up and looking around for any near trees or bushes. "I'm going to be sick." I say as I run towards some nearby grass. I keel over, heaving up anything that was left in my body from yesterday. Peeta comes to my side, holding my braid and rubbing my back.

"Are you okay?" He asks when I finish. I nod as I wipe my mouth on my sleeve, looking down at the ground. "Come on," he whispers, picking me up and holding me close. He carries me back to the house, taking me to the bathroom and undressing me. He starts a warm bath, and I lower myself into it. He washes my hair and the entirety of my body, not breaking eye contact. He helps me out, wrapping a towel around me and leading me to our bedroom. I dress in one of his over sized tee shirts, and he makes a place for me in bed. I lay down, and he buries me in several blankets, making sure that I am comfortable.

He brings his hand to my forehead. "You don't have a fever." He whispers, bringing a cold rag to it. "It may just be stress. How do you feel?"

"Terrible," I whisper, looking into his eyes. I shiver slightly. "Can we just stay here the rest of the day?" I ask as sweetly as possible.

"Of course," he whispers, crawling in bed next to me and wrapping his arms around me.

"Always."