Complete

Chapter 2

Katniss P.O.V.

"What's wrong?" Peeta asks me as he walks through the door to see me sitting on the couch crying.

"Come here," I tell Peeta as I stand up off the couch and motion for him. Peeta follows me upstairs to Willow's room and we stand in the doorway. I point over to the corner where Willow is sitting on the floor in the dark with her back turned towards us.

"She's been sitting there all day ever since you left for work this morning," I tell Peeta quietly. He sighs and shakes his head as a frown appears on his face.

"Why didn't you call me?"

"I know she wanted to be left alone for a while."

"Let me talk to her," Peeta sighs as he walks over towards Willow. I turn around and walk to the nursery to go check on Rye.

"Mama," Rye giggles when he sees me walking over to his crib.

"Did you have a good nap this afternoon, baby boy, because you sure are in a good mood for right now." I pick Rye up out of his crib, and he clings to me. Rye suddenly gasps and looks around the room.

"Dada?"

"Daddy's talking to Willow."

Rye pouts and starts doing a fake whining sound.

"Oh, goodness," I say as I bounce Rye in my arms. "So pitiful."

"Dada."

"Daddy's busy."

"Dada."

I sigh. "Rye, Daddy's busy."

"No."

I laugh at him. "Did you just say 'no?'"

"No."

"Yes you did."

"No."

"You're rotten," I tell Rye, feeling proud that he just said a new word, even it if was no.

"Dada!" Rye squeals.

"Rye. Your Daddy is busy." I have a feeling that he's going to be a handful when he gets a little older. He already likes to argue, even though he just learned how to say 'no.' He's not a year old, and he's already startd to act like he's in his "terrible two's" stage.

Rye's face starts to get really red as he screams out.

"Dada!"

"Rye, stop that," I say. He starts trying to push me away from him, so I lay him down in his crib. "Go back to sleep if you're going to act like that."

"No! Mama!" Rye screams out as he reaches out for me.

"If I pick you back up then you'd better behave like a good little boy." Rye sniffles, and I pick him back up and hold him close to me. Rye stops screaming, and I begin to carry him over to the changing table so I can get him into a dry diaper. After a few minutes, Peeta comes into the nursery and walks over to me with a sigh.

"What's wrong?" he asks me.

"I think you've been giving Rye lessons on how to be a little brat," I teases Peeta. "How's Willow?"

Peeta sighs again. "She won't talk to me. She won't look at me. She's just sitting there crying."

I pick Rye up off the changing table and turn to face Peeta.

"Do you think that maybe we could get her to talk to Mom or Haymitch?" I ask Peeta.

He shrugs his shoulders. "We could try it, but I doubt that she will want to."