Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I turn my phone over and re-read the text for the tenth time.

Prim (sent 2:37 PM): Can you skype tonight? There's something I need to tell you.

Sighing, I drop the phone facedown back on the corner of my desk. How am I supposed to focus on work with this hanging over my head?

I hate surprises. I especially hate surprises from my little sister. The last surprise Prim had given me was the news that she wouldn't be coming home for another three months.

Prim had applied for the opportunity to study abroad in her sophomore year of college. She selected a program in London where she could study child psychology and get the experience of living abroad. We had a tearful goodbye at the airport six months ago, hugging and promising we’d see each other soon.

But when the semester ended, she never came home.

Apparently, she fell in love with Europe and decided to spend the rest of the summer there, leaving me on my own back in New England. Thousands of miles away.

I think I’m starting to rival the original colonists’ hatred for their motherland.

She and a group of friends from her program had taken the opportunity to backpack around Europe all summer. She sent me emails every now and then with photos of the museums, cathedrals and ancient ruins they’d visited. But otherwise, she’s been off the grid for three months and just got back on campus last week. I can only anxiously guess at what news she might want to share with me.

*-*-*-*

By the time my phone finally buzzes with the Skype request from Prim, I’m a nervous wreck. I put down the glass of wine I’ve been nursing and sit forward on the couch in my living room. I paste on what I hope looks like a happy face and accept the chat request.

Prim’s face lights up the screen, and I feel some of the tension dissipate. At least she is safe, and in one piece.

“Katniss! Hi! How are you? I miss you so much.”

I can feel the fake happy face fade into a genuine smile at the sight of my sister, the one person I truly love in the world. “I’m good, Little Duck. How are you?”

Prim rolls her eyes and smiles. “I’m fine. Too old for that nickname, but I’m doing well.”

We chat for a few minutes, both avoiding the elephant in the room. I cover my entire summer in under a minute, then listen as Prim fills me in on more details of her trip. Finally, I can take the suspense no longer. I clear my throat and ask the question I’ve been dreading.

“So, ah – you said you have something to tell me?”

Prim nods slightly, looking off camera to something in her room before looking down. “Yeah, I needed – I wanted to tell you about something. About someone. Someone I met on my trip.”

I sigh in relief. Was that all? She has a boyfriend? That is so much better than any of the horrible scenarios I had envisioned. But why was Prim so nervous to tell me? She’s shared stories of boyfriends in the past.

“Ohhh?” I tease. “Is this someone a young man?”

Prim looks up, an angelic smile on her face. “It is.”

“Well? Tell me about him! Is he British?”

“No,” Prim shakes her head and laughs lightly. “He’s American, from outside Seattle. And he’s just… incredible. Katniss, I can’t begin to tell you how wonderful he is. He’s sweet, and funny, and he has such a big heart. He’s amazing.”

I smile at the screen, grateful to hear my sister sound so happy. “So… How did you meet?”

“He was on the summer trip, and he’s actually in the same study abroad program I am. Except he is - well, was - a Senior. He graduated in May.”

“A senior?” I question with a frown. Prim skipped a year of school, allowing her to graduate young. She’s only 18 now. Just a baby. A senior would be in his early twenties already. “Prim, do you think that’s a good idea? How old is this guy, anyway?”

Prim rolls her eyes. “Katniss, I’m not a child. He’s turning 23 in October-“

Twenty-three!? “Prim! He’s older than me!”

“By six months!”

I won’t be distracted by details. “I’m just not sure that it’s wise to get involved with someone that old when you’re just… barely … LEGAL!” I close my eyes and take deep breaths as I try to compose myself. “It’s fine. This can still be taken care of. I’m sure he’ll understand if you tell him you aren’t ready for anything serious right now.”

“Do you hear yourself?” I open my eyes to see Prim staring back at me, her eyes squinted incredulously. “Katniss, you have no say in who I do or do not date.” She sighs and looks off screen again. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you,” she mumbles under her breath.

“Prim, this is exactly why you should tell me! What if… what if he’s some kind of creep who gets his kicks out of preying on young girls? What if something were to happen to you? You’re so far away, I can’t -”

“I don’t need you to save me!” Prim shrieks. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. And for the record, he is not a creep, and he isn’t ‘preying’ on me! I came on to him! I kissed him first, and I’m the one that said we should -“

“STOP.” I rub the space between my eyes, wondering how this conversation has gone so terribly wrong. “I don’t need to know all the sordid details between you and your… your…” I shake my head before spitting out, “boyfriend.” The word hardly feels right for the skeevy, leering man I’ve begun to envision.

Prim chuckles mirthlessly. “But you do,” she murmurs. “Because he’s not just my boyfriend.” Her voice lowers to a point I can barely hear her. “He’s my husband.”

My mind goes completely blank. I’m speechless at this announcement, my brain trying to process this news. White hot anger is bubbling up from my throat, but my voice is calm and flat. “He’s… your… what?”

Prim looks up, tears in her eyes but with a hardness I’ve never seen reflected in the blueness before. “My husband, Katniss. We’re married.”

“How is –“ I try to gather my senses, the word married echoing in my head. “There’s no way that could be legal, Prim! You’re not-“

“Old enough?” Prim laughs as she tries to finish my sentence. “Oh, but I am. Remember? I’m eighteen, Katniss.”

I scowl in response. “I was going to say you’re not even a citizen, Prim. You’re in Europe! How could you possibly get married without getting papers signed and – and – documents – and… I just don’t understand.”

“It’s not totally legal,” Prim concedes with a shrug. “Not yet. But we found a priest in a little chapel in Italy who agreed to perform a ceremony for us, so as far as I’m concerned, we're more married than any piece of paper could make us. But we’re still going to make it official when we get to Colorado.”

I look at the ceiling, tracing cracks with my eyes and trying to calm myself. I have to get control of this situation. My baby sister is a romantic at heart, so I can see why she’d feel sentimental in a foreign country, surrounded by signs of love in places like France and Italy. But she would come to her senses. Surely she wouldn’t –

“Wait a minute. What do you mean, ‘when we get to Colorado?’”

Finally, Prim has the decency to look sheepish. She looks off camera again, nodding slightly, before meeting my furious eyes. “He’s got a job offer there, outside of Denver. He starts next month. And I’m going with him.”

“But your school is in Boston,” I sputter. “Wait a minute. Are you…? Are you dropping out of school?!”

Prim rolls her eyes again.  I’m getting tired of the rebellious teenager act. “Don’t be so dramatic, Katniss. There are a lot of good schools in Colorado. I’m going to enroll in a community college, maybe get an Associate’s degree and then see what happens from there. Besides, he might not even like the job. I don’t want to get tied down to one place just yet.”

“Tied down?! You’re talking about getting married Prim! You can’t get much more tied down than that!”

“Katniss-” she starts. I watch her bite her lip in that way she used to whenever I helped her with her homework and she was trying to work out the answer. She’s just a child.“I’m not like you,” she continues in a softer voice. “I can’t just go through school and settle for a dead-end job just because it’s expected of me. Life is so short. I need to live it. Experience things. Feel things.”

The words sting more than I’d admit. It’s my dead-end job that financed Prim’s “experiences” overseas. I gave up my own chance at an education years ago to ensure that Prim could have one. And she is accusing me of not wanting to feel things?

I try to hide my tears with a scowl. “Despite rumors to the contrary, I have feelings, too, Prim.”

“I know! I know you do!” Prim shakes her head. “God, this is coming out all wrong,” she whispers.

She plays with a strand of her blonde hair, twisting it around her finger nervously. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, Katniss. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me since Mom left. I know how much you’ve sacrificed for me. But sometimes…” She sighs heavily. “Sometimes the weight of your expectations is just… suffocating.”

I sit back in my chair, heartbroken. “I guess it’s good to know where I stand.”

“Oh, Katniss don’t be so dramatic. You know what I mean. When Dad died, and Mom took off … You kept us alive. I know that. You gave up so much, and sometimes... it just feels like I’ll never be able to pay you back.”

“I never asked you to pay me back.” I’m pouting. I know I’m pouting. But I can’t help it.

Prim sighs. “I know you didn’t. But I also know that you want me to go off to medical school or nursing school and become a big time healer or something. And honestly, that’s just not me. Sure, I loved to play doctor when I was ten, but I’ve grown up, and that’s just not what I want right now. What I want… is this.” She holds up her left hand, spinning the thin gold band that encircles her ring finger.

“I know how you feel about marriage and family, Katniss,” she continues before I can interrupt. “But I can’t live that way. I can’t just close my heart off. I need to give this a shot.”

I’m hurt. And sad. And scared. But what comes out above everything else is anger.

“You know, Prim, you’ve got a hell of a nerve. I’ve spent the last six years of my life working full time jobs - sometimes two at a time - working overnights and doubles, all so I could take care of you. Make sure there was a future for you. And now you tell me you want to throw that all away? All over some summer fling? This is bullshit.”

Prim looks offscreen and I hear her addresses someone else. “I told you this would happen. I knew she wouldn’t understand.”

“What are you doing, Prim?” I ask. Is there someone else in her room with her? “Who are you talking to?”

I can hear the baritone of a soft voice but she shakes her head and puts a hand up to stop them. “No, this has to happen this way. It’s for the best.”

She turns to face the screen once again, a determined look on her face. “Katniss, I think we both need some time apart. I need to see where this is going, and you need to start living for yourself.”

“Prim, don’t be ridiculous-“

“NO. Katniss, you’re right. You’ve spent more than half a decade taking care of me. It’s time you start to take care of yourself for a change. Hang out with your friends. Hell, make some friends to hang out with! Go to the movies, travel, get a massage. Just promise me that you’ll make room in your heart for someone else. I need to know that you’re not going to spend your life alone.”

I sigh, sure she’s just trying to test my patience. “Okay Prim, whatever you say.”

She shakes her head sadly. “I love you, Katniss. I’ll write you when we get settled.” She disconnects the call.

*-*-*-*

I try her back several times that night, and into the next week. I send voicemails and texts and get no response except one late night text that reads: I love you Katniss. But we both need some space right now. I’ll talk to you soon. <3

The next time I call her, I get a message that the number has been disconnected.

*-*-*-*

Months go by with no word from Prim. She never even told me her boyfriend’s – husband’s – name, so I have no way to find them. I try Google searches and phone calls to her college, but no one will tell me anything because she’s over eighteen and is no longer enrolled. She’s shut down her Facebook account. I’m even getting the cold shoulder over email, with no response after dozens of messages.

My final desperate attempt is a tearful call to her best friend, Rue.

“Katniss, she doesn’t want to talk to you right now.”

I wipe the snot from my face, sure she can hear the sniveling sounds from my end of the line. “I just don’t understand, Rue! What happened? I mean yeah, I didn’t have the best reaction, but she threw all this on me out of nowhere! What did she expect?” I try to reign in the panicked shrieks and speak more calmly. “I’ve had time to think about it, and I’m fine with her being married. I’d accept them both if she’d just get back in touch with me!”

I can hear Rue sigh heavily on the other end of the line. “She’s not ready for that, though. She needs some time to spread her wings, and try to figure out who she is, on her own. You have to give her the chance to do that.”

“Can you do me a favor?” I ask in a small voice. “Can you just tell her I love her, and I accept her no matter what?”

Rue is quiet for a moment. “Sure.”

“Thank you,” I sniff.

“And Katniss?”

“Yeah?”

“She’s safe. And she’s happy.”

I smile sadly. “Thanks, Rue.” I guess that’s all I’ll get.

*-*-*-*

Five months after she disappeared from my life, I finally get an email response from Prim.

Dear Katniss,

I know you’re probably wondering where I am, and what’s going on with me. We’ve never gone this long without speaking before. I'm sure you're hurting as much as I am.

Believe me when I say the decision wasn't easy. But I came to the realization that I need to test the waters of independence. You’ve been taking care of me for so long, and I need to really feel what it's like to be on my own.

And I meant it when I said that this break is for your sake as well. You've spent too much of your life living for me, and you need to put yourself first for once. I hope that you have been doing that. You deserve to live like the young woman that you are, not weighed down by responsibility for me.

I don't want you to worry about me. PJ is a wonderful man; so good sometimes I'm sure I don't deserve him. Marriage is a lot of work, of course. In some ways, we're still getting to know each other. We don’t really fight, but sometimes I joke that our personalities are so similar we’ll probably be bored with each other in just a few months!

Please don't blame him for this separation. He has begged me to reconsider, but I'm just not ready. There will come a time when I'm prepared to share everything with you, but I’m not there yet.

I will be in touch again, but for now, I need to focus on myself and my marriage. I hope someday you can come to forgive me. I never meant to let you down.

Love always, Prim

*-*-*-*

I scan the email a dozen times for hints at Prim’s life. She sounds happy enough, I suppose. At least I know the name of her husband now. Though, without a last name or an address, it puts me no closer to finding her. No matter how much she tries to protect him, a part of me still resents this PJ for stealing my sister away from me.

The months pass by quickly. Before I know it, over a year has gone by. I check in with Rue from time to time, and she passes my love to Prim when they speak. She still asks that I don’t try to contact her, and I have no choice but to respect that.

I decide to try to honor Prim’s wishes and focus on my own life, but it’s hard. I’ve spent so many years taking care of her that I find I’m having issues relaxing. I make plans with my friends, practice my archery, join a yoga class and try to keep busy.

But night after night, I’m alone in my bed with nothing but my thoughts.

*-*-*-*

One Sunday in early December, I’m unloading groceries when my phone rings with a number I don’t recognize. In my old life, I would have ignored such a call, most likely a telemarketer of some kind. But it’s been a year and a half since Prim moved away, and any time a strange number appears, I have to answer. Just in case it’s her.

It’s not. A male voice asks for Katniss Everdeen, and I reply with my stock answer. “I’m not interested. And take me off your list!”

But before I can disconnect, he interrupts me with a frantic edge to his voice. “Katniss, please, wait. It’s P- PJ. From… I’m Prim’s husband.”

Confusion washes over me, but I can barely stutter out a greeting before he’s talking again. His voice is hoarse and gravelly as he stumbles over his words.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but… there’s been an accident, Katniss... She’s gone. Oh god, I’m so sorry. Prim’s gone.”

*-*-*-*

His words send me to the floor in a heap. I’m speechless, frozen, but I can’t hang up the phone. The voice on the other end is soothing, comforting. He keeps talking, hushed words of comfort. She went quickly. There was no pain. His deep timber is the only thing keeping me grounded to the earth right now.

Prim had been out doing some Christmas shopping and was in an accident on the way home. There was a pileup on the highway involving several trucks and cars, including Prim's. She was killed instantly.

For what seems like hours, my mind is swirling, trying to process this. How can she be gone? She’s been gone from my life, essentially, for almost two years now, but how can she be gone for good? Gone from this planet? It’s too much to take.

“I can’t… I have to go. I need some time… I need to figure out what to do.”

“I understand,” PJ says, his voice breaking. “Of course. Take all the time you need. I’ll be here. I’m so, so sorry.”

I feel terrible for a minute; in my own pain, I’ve forgotten that this man is probably hurting, too. “Thank you. I’m sorry for you as well. Can I – is this the best number to reach you?”

“Absolutely. This is my cell number. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.”

I hang up the phone and lean my head back against the cabinets. I spot a goat magnet I got Prim as a joke for her twelfth birthday on the refrigerator. At the time, she was harboring ambitions of starting a petting zoo when she grew up, surrounding herself with animals and inviting the world in to love them with her. It seemed like such a ridiculous goal to me – so many logistics and liabilities. But not wanting to dash her dreams, I bought the magnet and presented it as her first charge. She laughed and named it Lady.

She was always such a dreamer. And now …

I can feel the grief pouring out of me in waves. I hold my head in my hands and let the tears flow.

*-*-*-*

Somehow I haven't moved all night. The sun has set and has risen again. The floor is cool and hard on my back, and my bladder is screaming at me. But still I don’t move. I’m curled up on my side, staring at a spot on the wall, completely numb. I have no idea what to do next.

My phone buzzes with PJ’s number, but I ignore it. I can’t deal with him right now. I have to get my own grief contained before I can handle that of the widower across the country. I let it go to voice mail, and drag myself up to bed.

*-*-*-*

I spend nearly every moment for the next forty-eight hours in bed. I fight sleep, but when it finally pulls me under, I wake to visions of an accident, my sister terrified, hurting, needing me. But I’m not there.

I can feel myself succumbing to the same emptiness I saw in my mother’s eyes after she lost my father. I want to pull the covers over my head, hide in a closet, or go to sleep and never wake up. But I can’t let that happen right now. Not when Prim’s body is halfway across the country. I need to bring her home first.

This isn’t a task I can tackle alone. I call Haymitch Abernathy, our family friend and attorney. He was a childhood friend of my father’s, and promised he would always look after us after dad died. He helped me navigate the system when I was eighteen, abandoned by our mother after years of neglect. With his help, I was able to keep Prim with me, find a good job, and take financial control of the house.

“Oh, sweetheart… I’m so sorry to hear that.” His normally gruff voice is noticeably softened. For a former marine with a hardened shell, he’s got a big heart. Prim, with all her golden features and glowing smile, always had a special place in it.

“So tell me: what I need to do? How do I plan a funeral? How do I get her body back here – I just don’t even know where to start.”

“Well, wait a minute,” he cautions. “She was married, you said? You don’t have automatic rights to all of that anymore. It’s really up to her husband to carry out her burial wishes. Do you know if she had a will?”

I scoff. The idea of 20 year old Prim, so full of life and happiness and dreams having a will seems preposterous.

Then again… She’s been gone for over a year. Married to a man I don’t even know. How can I say anything for sure anymore?

Haymitch clears his throat, and I can tell he’s going to give me advice I don’t want to hear. “Sweetheart, you’re gonna have to buckle down and just call this boy. See what he knows about her legal affairs. Find out if you can work together to make the best choices for her. Besides where and how she’ll be buried, there are all kinds of decisions about her financial affairs, remaining school loans, disbursement of property. You’ll really benefit from working together on this.”

I close my eyes, starting to feel overwhelmed with the logistics when all my heart wants to do is grieve. When I don’t speak right away, Haymitch continues.

“Just give the boy a call. You’re both in mourning. It sounds like he could use a friend right now, too.”

“I’m not good at friends,” I scowl.

Haymitch chuckles. “Truer words were never spoken.”

*-*-*-*

I wait a few hours before taking Haymitch up on his advice to call PJ. I pour myself a glass of wine and drink most of it before finally sighing heavily and dialing his number.

He picks up after only two rings. His voice sounds smaller than it did the other night, laced with exhaustion, but I can hear an edge of relief to it.

“Katniss. I’m so glad you called me back.”

“Hi, PJ. Sorry, I just needed some time to process everything.”

“Of course,” he assures me. “I completely understand. How are you doing?”

“I … don’t know. I’m okay. I guess the shock is starting to pass.” I try to remember Haymitch’s advice. Make friends. Be nice. “How – how are you doing?”

“I’m okay, too. I guess. There’s just a lot to think of right now. I’m trying to keep it together, for her sake.” He sighs. “I can’t fall apart on her now.”

“That’s good,” I reply. “Did you…” I start, not really sure how to broach this. I figure I should just jump right in and find out if he’s going to cooperate. “Listen, PJ –“

“Peeta.”

“I’m sorry?"

“Um. My real name is Peeta. Prim was the only one who ever called me PJ. It started out as kind of a joke." He laughs softly, continuing when I don’t respond. "Our escort in France was this quirky woman who was obsessed with etiquette. She insisted on using everyone’s first and middle names, so for the entire trip, we were ‘Primrose Joy’ and 'Peeta John'. Prim thought it was funny that we had the same initials, so she started calling me PJ. It kind of stuck.” He clears his throat. “But all of my other friends just call me Peeta."

I am nowhere near ready to consider myself one of his friends yet, but I take this as a sign to move forward.

“Okay…. Peeta. I wanted to talk about Prim’s … wishes. Do you know… did she have a will?”

“Yes, she did.”

“Um – oh.” I’m taken aback, a little shocked by his immediate answer. “Okay.”

“She thought it was the right thing to do, to make wills and get life insurance policies. Before-” He pauses, and his voice becomes quieter. “Of course, we never actually thought we’d use it.”

I can sympathize. I certainly never thought I’d be having a conversation like this.

“So, what… did she have...” I stutter, not sure how to phrase this. “Did she have final wishes? For where …”

Luckily, Peeta understands what I’m asking and interrupts me. “Where she’d like to be buried?” he asks gently. “No, not specifically.” I sigh, relieved. “She just made it clear that she wanted to be cremated.”

“What?”

“Something to do… with your father?” he asks carefully. “She mentioned she didn’t want to spend eternity trapped in a box beneath the earth…”

“Oh.” Of course. Our father worked for the city, mainly repairing sewer lines deep underground. He was killed when a road collapsed on their construction site; it took them hours to dig him and the other crew members out. “You haven’t…?”

“No, no,” he reassures. “Not yet. I would never do that without talking to you first.”

"Thanks." I swallow back the tears that are threatening to choke me. “I guess that's fine. I just... I’d really like to bring her home. Here.”

He clears his throat. “Oh, um, yeah. Sure. I mean, we don’t have any other family out here, so I can see why that would make sense.”

I’m slightly relieved that he’s not going to fight me on this. “I'm not sure how to get her back here,” I think out loud. "There must be procedures for this..."

"Well, wait a minute. I was kind of hoping you'd come out here first."

My relief fades. Of course it wouldn't be that simple.

“I mean, I'd love it if we could all meet,” he continues, his voice fading and coming back as if he had moved away from the phone. “There should be some kind of ceremony. If it weren't for the baby, I'd say we could just do it out there, but I think I should try to honor our life here, too, for her sake. Even if it’s small. Prim did make some friends that would..."

His rambling continues, but my mind is struggling to keep up. One phrase echoes oddly inside my head: if it weren’t for the baby. What baby?

“Peeta, I’m sorry,” I interrupt him. “You said, ‘If it weren’t for the baby’? What baby did you mean?”

He chuckles. “Well, Lily, of course.”

“Who’s Lily?” I ask. The silence on the other end of the phone carries on much too long for my liking, making me increasingly more uncomfortable. “Peeta?” I repeat. “Who is Lily?”

“She never told you.” he says, a slight question in his voice. “I thought by now she would have told you,” he mutters so quietly I can barely make it out.

“Peeta!” I’m getting nervous now, and trying to deny my suspicions. “Please, just tell me.”

“Lily –” he starts. “Lillianna - is my daughter. Our daughter. Mine and Prim’s.”

He’s done it again. Is there no end to the number of times this man will pull the rug out from under me? First, he marries my baby sister and takes her across the country away from me. Then he tells me she is gone forever. And now – this. She had a daughter? A child she never told me about?  I’m speechless.

“Katniss?” Peeta asks carefully. “I know… I’m sure this must be a shock –”

“She was a mother?” I finally make out. “How … how long? How old is… Lily?”

“She’s eight months old.” Eight months? I try to do the math, and realize that Prim must have gotten pregnant shortly after they got married. Or… before?

“But… when…”

“I think… maybe you should talk to Rue.” Peeta interrupts. I ignore the fact that he’s on a first name basis with Prim’s best friend as panic grabs me: does Rue even know that Prim passed away? In my grief, I haven’t had the energy to reach out to any of her friends.

“I’ve already spoken to her about Prim,” he continues. “She was going to make the phone calls to their other friends to let them know.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

My head is spinning. This isn’t where I thought this conversation would go. I’m overwhelmed by this news, and starting to feel like I didn’t know my sister at all. Prim was married, and a mother, and had this entire life I knew nothing about, and somehow the thought makes me feel like I’m losing her all over again. Tears spring to my eyes. I wipe my nose with my sleeve and sniff into the phone.

“Katniss.” Peeta’s voice is gentle. “I just want you to know… I’ll never pretend that I knew Prim as well as you did. You were her sister for her entire life, and I got to share less than two years with her. But I do know this: she loved you. So, so much. You meant the world to her, and your opinion was so important to her. She only wanted to make you proud.”

“I just don’t understand.” My voice breaks.  “Why didn’t she tell me? Of course I would have supported her! She was my sister. I loved her.”

“I know you did. She talked about you all the time, and I know how much you did for her over the years. You did nothing wrong, Katniss.” Somehow his voice is able to reach me, and I try to compose myself. “Just – give Rue a call. They talked a lot, and she can help you understand Prim’s mindset.”

“Okay. I will.” I sigh, wiping my eyes. “Thank you, Peeta.”

“Of course. And give me a call when you’ve gotten some rest so we can discuss the next steps. I’d really love for you to meet Lily.”

“Okay.” I try to sound positive, but I’m not sure how to get through this.

Chapter Text

“I’m so sorry, Katniss.” Rue reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. When I called, asking to talk, she offered to meet me at a local coffee house.

“I know, Rue. I was just hoping you could help me understand…”

“About Lily?” she asks quietly, pulling her hand back to stir her tea. It stings, how she says her name so casually.

“Yeah. About Lily. All the secrets.” I shake my head, overwhelmed with emotion. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I whisper.

Rue tips her head, her brown eyes watery. “It wasn’t my secret to tell. Peeta and I talked to her. Tried to convince her to tell you. She just… wasn’t ready yet.”

“But why? Why wouldn’t she just talk to me? We used to tell each other everything.”

Rue gives me a sad smile. “You just don’t understand, Katniss. The effect you can have.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were her big sister. You were everything to her! She looked up to you. She wanted to make you proud in everything she did. All the sacrifices you made for her, working so hard so she could go to college and get a degree...” She shakes her head with a sigh. “You can see how the last thing she wanted to do was tell you she got pregnant at eighteen. Especially after a one night stand.”

“One night stand?” I narrow my eyes at Rue.

Rue squints back, studying me. "What did Prim tell you, about how she and Peeta met?" she asks carefully.

"Just that they were on the student trip together." Rue wriggles uncomfortably in her seat, avoiding my eyes as her hands warm on her mug. I reach out and put a hand on her forearm. "Please, Rue, I need you to help me understand," I plead.

She sighs, her shoulders relaxing. “Prim was such a romantic. When she went to Europe, she just saw love everywhere around her. She decided halfway through the semester that she was going to fall in love while she was there.” She laughs and brushes a tear from the corner of her eye. “I mean, who does that? Decides to fall in love? Only Prim could think something like that was possible.”

I chuckle, remembering my baby sister in high school, obsessed with soap operas and romance novels. She dreamed of the day some dashing prince would sweep her off her feet. I can see how she could believe she could almost will it to happen.

“Of course, those of us with our feet on the ground know it doesn’t work that way. When the semester ended, and she still hadn’t fallen in love, she changed her plans a bit. She decided that if she couldn’t fall in love in Europe, the least she could do was… well…” She raises her eyebrow and gives me a pointed look. But I’m not a mind reader.

“What?” I mutter.

Rue rolls her eyes with a grin. “She was right. You are pure.”

“Excuse me?” I ask indignantly.

Rue leans forward on her elbows, speaking in a low voice. “She decided she wanted to lose her virginity while she was in Europe.” I choke a bit on my tea, and cover my mouth with a napkin as she laughs softly across from me. “She thought there was something romantic and beautiful in knowing it happened in this ancient setting.”

“Oh.” The squeamish part of me wants to beg her to stop, but I feel like I need to hear her out so I can fully understand.

“Of course, even that didn’t go according to plan. She hadn’t really gotten close enough to anyone to even consider it. Until she met Peeta. They became friends on the train to Barcelona, and over drinks one night, she spilled her entire plan. He tried to talk her out of it, but she wouldn’t hear of it. You remember how hard she was to reason with.”

“Oh yeah,” I chuckle. My sister could be so stubborn when she got an idea in her head.

“But …" Rue ponders something for a moment. "Have you seen Peeta?” she asks.

“No.” I’ve spoken to him a few times now, but I’ve never even seen a picture. “Why?”

She shakes her head. “He’s like a male version of Prim. Floppy blond hair, big puppy dog eyes. He’s just a really sweet guy. You can see why she would have picked him. She wanted someone she could trust, someone who would be… gentle. You know?”

I nod. My hurt feelings aside, I would still only wish for Prim to find someone as wonderful as she is. Was.

“Anyway, she wore him down and a few weeks later, I got a call from her, hysterical. She was pregnant. They used protection; he insisted on it. But nothing’s foolproof. She was terrified.”

“I can imagine.” I try to picture her getting this life changing news, all alone in another country.

“She was worried about being a teenage mother; how would she support a baby? What would other people think of her? But the one thing she was most afraid of … was how to tell you.”

I bite my lip, shaking my head slightly. “That’s what I don’t get, Rue. If I’d have known, I would have helped her. I could have done something-”

“But that’s just it, Katniss. You were helping Prim, taking care of her, for her entire life. She knew you’d feel obligated to help with the baby, too. And she knew how you feel about kids. She didn’t want to burden you with her mistakes.”

“Rue-”

“I know. But she worried you would insist she stay in school while you helped with the baby, or you'd take on another job to help with money. She wanted to take responsibility for herself for a change."

"Is that why she got married?"

“Yeah. It was actually Peeta's idea. He supported her and knew that she wanted to provide a stable home for the baby. To give Lily a real family. And of course, with his background, it was important to him, too.”

“His background?” I ask. I know so little about this man.

Rue shrugs. “I don’t know all the details, but I do know he’s an orphan. Lost his parents and siblings in a fire almost ten years ago. Prim said this was like a second chance for him to have his own family.”

“Oh, my.” Peeta is certainly no stranger to pain, or grief.

Rue nods somberly. "Anyway, she panicked," she continues. "She knew a marriage at eighteen was upsetting enough. She didn’t want to disappoint you further."

"She could never disappoint me," I murmur. "I wish she would have just come clean with me, at least after the baby was born."

"I know," Rue agrees. "But she struggled a lot in the beginning, with depression, post-partum stuff. I told her it might help to talk to you, but she said she didn't want to bring all that into your life again. She said you didn't need another person like your mother to worry about.”

I'm speechless. It hurts to think of Prim suffering through that on her own. Though I guess she wasn't really alone if she had Peeta.

"She'd gotten better though, over the last few months. The last couple of times I talked to her, she said she finally felt like she was getting a handle on things. And I think Peeta was finally starting to wear her down and convince her to talk to you.”

I consider this as Rue picks at the pastry on her plate and pops a small bite in her mouth. “By the way,” she says as she chews. “Make sure you try his cheese buns when you go out there. He’s an incredible baker.”

I look down and stir my now cooled mug of tea. “Yeah. About that. The thing is, I haven’t really decided if I’m going to go out there.”

Rue gives me a puzzled look. “What do you mean? I thought Peeta was planning to have a service for Prim’s friends out there?”

“Yeah, well I was kind of hoping to just get Prim home and have a service here instead. I have enough of my own grief; I don’t need to deal with all of that, too.”

“’All of that?’ Katniss, whether you like it or not, he’s family now, and he could really use your support. Besides, you’ve got a niece out there. You owe it to yourself to get to know her.”

I know she’s right, but all of this news still has me reeling. “I just don’t know what to do, Rue. A week ago, my sister was alive, but had completely cut herself out of my life. And now … now I’ve got a niece I never knew about?”

Rue’s face softens. “It’s a lot to process. But I know you won’t turn your back on Prim’s daughter,” she asks with an arch of her eyebrow. I nod once; of course she’s right. This is my chance to show my sister the support she couldn’t ask for a year ago.

“Peeta is her father. And he’s going to be in your life for a long time to come, so you might as well get to know him now.” She clutches my hand. “He’s a good man, Katniss. And he’s hurting, too. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

*-*-*-*

After my visit with Rue, and subsequent talks with Haymitch, I decide they're right. I have to go to Colorado.

Peeta and I talk a few more times as well. He planned a small memorial service for next weekend. Rue and Haymitch will both fly out on Friday night to attend. I’ve made arrangements with work to take an extended leave of absence, allowing me to head out on Thursday and to stay as long as I need to after the service. Time to get to know my niece. And her father, I suppose.

*-*-*-*

Navigating the massive terminal, I collect my luggage and head to my rental car. The GPS says it’s a twenty minute drive to the café where I agreed to meet Peeta. He’d offered to pick me up at the airport, but with the cold winter weather, I didn’t want to risk him getting stuck waiting with the baby. I send him a text to let him know that I’m on my way.

The small car allows me to find a parking space close to the storefront and I immediately notice a man standing nearby holding a baby. A green winter hat hangs haphazardly on the back of his head, and wisps of blond curls peek out from the front. The baby plays with a zipper on his burnt orange vest, and I can the see puffs of air as he talks to her, a smile on his face.

I study her pink snowsuit and knitted hat with lamb ears. Something I’m sure my sister would have chosen. Maybe even knitted herself.

Fighting back tears, I step out onto the pavement and begin to walk toward them. I must catch Peeta’s eye because he looks up at me, a friendly grin spreading across his face. His blue eyes are warm, welcoming, but tinged with sadness.

“Katniss.” He reaches for me as I get closer and pulls me into a one-armed hug, careful not to crush me or Lily. I’m not usually good with physical contact from strangers, but somehow after all of our conversations, he doesn’t feel like a stranger. This hug is comforting, not awkward. I relax into it and inhale the scent of cinnamon and musk. “It’s so good to finally meet you,” he says. “I only wish it was under different circumstances.”

“It’s good to meet you, too,” I reply.

We separate and I get a better look at his face. There are bags under his eyes and he’s sporting a scruffy five o'clock shadow. I wonder how much sleep he’s been getting. If he has nightmares like me, or if Lily is keeping him up. Despite his tired expression, he gives me a warm smile and squeezes my arm over my winter coat.

“There’s someone else I’d like you to meet.” He brushes the baby’s cheek lightly to pull her attention from the string at his neck, and she turns to face me.

My hand flies to my mouth as I struggle to choke back tears. It’s like looking at Prim when she was a baby. She has the same button nose and fair skin. The same full pink lips. And while Peeta’s eyes are more a sapphire shade, Lily’s eyes match Prim’s cornflower blue, framed by long blond lashes.

“This is our daughter. Lilliana Katniss Mellark.” My eyes shift to his and he nods. Lily continues to stare at me as I reach out and stroke her cheek lightly with my fingertip. Her skin is cold but soft as velvet. She turns away and tucks her face into her father’s neck.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “She’s not normally so shy, but well… with all the changes, she’s become a little more nervous around new faces.”

“No reason to be sorry.” I’m nervous around new people myself, and I have nowhere near her excuse.

“Should we get in out of the cold?” He tilts his head toward the café behind him. I nod and follow him as he opens the door and ushers me to a small table. “Have a seat. We’ll be right back.”

I watch him chat with the older woman at the counter. After a few words, she moves away for a moment then places a tray with two paper cups in front of him. He tries to give her money but she waves it away with a sad smile. She touches his hand and moves on to another customer.

“That was Mags, the owner,” he explains as he sets the tray on the table. “We became friends after we first moved to town. She gave me a weekend job so I could save up a little extra before this peanut arrived.” He arranges Lily on his lap and pulls the lamb hat off her head, ruffling the mop of messy blond curls. She definitely didn’t inherit those from Prim. As a baby, her hair was pin straight, with a tuft that stuck straight up in the back; a true “little duck.” My heart clenches as I imagine Prim rounding the corner to join us, tucking in her shirttail and giving me her trademark eye roll at the nickname.

Peeta passes me a steaming cup, interjecting before I can explain that I don’t drink coffee. “I hope hot chocolate is okay. They make the best in town.”

“Thank you.” I have to admit the warm, creamy drink is delicious and helps to quiet the ache in my belly. With all my anxiety about this trip, I wasn’t able to eat much today. I sip on it quietly as Peeta digs a small rattle from his pocket and gives it to Lily.

“Did I hear you right… her name?” I ask.

“Prim’s idea,” he says with a smile. “She wanted to honor you, to make sure Lily always remembers how important you were to her.”

I nod in understanding, but I hardly feel worthy of anyone’s honor. I take another sip and try to think of conversation, relieved when he takes the lead.

“If you’d like, we could go to the funeral home today, or whenever you’re ready.” I agree quickly that I’d like to do it as soon as possible. The one thing I need to really make this all feel real is to see Prim one last time; it’s still so hard for me to wrap my head around everything. We make plans to head there after our drinks.

“And then after, we can just go back to the apartment, if that’s okay.” He leans over and picks up the hat that Lily has pushed onto the floor. “You could probably use some rest from all the travel. Maybe we could go through some of the pictures I planned to use for the memorial service.”

“Sure,” I answer, my head spinning with all of the planning we still need to do. My eye catches the hat he’s retrieved, and I reach out to touch the soft yarn. I can tell it’s hand made. “Did – did Prim make this?” I ask, eager to change the subject for a minute.

He chuckles. “Um, no. Actually, I did.”

I look up to catch his sheepish grin as he scratches at his chin. “Really?”

“Yeah, I know, you probably don’t meet many guys that knit. It’s something I picked up from my grandmother years ago. I just find it relaxing. And I love that at the end of it, I’ve created something beautiful that someone can have forever.” He meets my eye. “Too dorky?”

On some level it’s surprising, but I also find it kind of endearing. “No, not at all. It’s kind of cool actually.”

“Thanks,” he smiles. “Anyway, Prim did pick out the pattern. She loved animals, and Lily’s room is covered in them. You’ll see what I mean later.”

We finish our drinks, the conversation light but comfortable, and head back to our cars. He straps Lily in the back of his SUV, and I follow him in my rental car on the short ride to the funeral home.

He brings me inside and introduces me to the director. As the man leads me to the mortuary, I look back at Peeta, who is still standing in the entryway, holding Lily’s car seat. “I’ll wait out here, so you can have some privacy. But I’ll be close by if you need me,” he promises.

I give him a silent nod and move slowly toward where my sister waits to say my final goodbyes.

*-*-*-*

After, I make my way back to the waiting room. Peeta is sitting in a wingback chair, his hat in his hands, staring out the window. Lily is asleep at his feet in her car seat. I’m numb, and all I can think is how much his hair looks like Lily’s as the afternoon sun illuminates his crown of curls.

He senses my presence and stands to greet me. My mouth is dry, my body drained, and no words will come. Somehow, he seems to understand and walks to meet me, enveloping me in his arms. At his touch, something inside me breaks, and I’m finally able to let go. I’m crippled with an overwhelming exhaustion, barely able to hold myself up.

“I’m so tired, Peeta.”

He holds me tighter, rocking me slightly and stroking my hair. “I know, Katniss. Let’s get you home so you can rest.”

Home. I’m thousands of miles from home, but I’ll allow this mistake if I can just get some sleep.

He walks me to his car and helps me to buckle in before lifting Lily’s car seat to the back and securing it to its base. I’m asleep by the time he makes it to the driver’s side.

Before long, he’s shaking me awake and leading me into his apartment. He removes my coat and shoes and guides me to an oversized couch. I sink into it and lay against a pillow. A warm blanket I recognize as Prim’s is draped over me, and I fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

*-*-*-*

“…and that pretty lady next to mama is your auntie Katniss. She came all the way here on an airplane to visit with you.”

“Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba.”

“She’s a very special person. Your mama loved her very much.”

Peeta’s hushed voice drifts into my consciousness. I open my eyes, slowly getting my bearings from my spot on the couch. The curtains are drawn, but I can see that the sun has set through a gap near the bottom. The time on the cable box shows that it’s after 6. I’m surprised to learn that I’ve been asleep for several hours.

I sit up and glance into the adjoining kitchen area, where Peeta sits at a table with his back to me. Lily is in her high chair beside him, and he’s feeding her something orange colored from a small dish. She’s holding a small framed picture that she occasionally bangs on her tray.

While Peeta is distracted by Lily, I take the opportunity to look around the room. I’m sitting on the only couch. A leather recliner with an afghan draped over the back rounds out the cozy seating area. Other than the TV and a small coffee table, the only furniture in the room is a large bookshelf loaded with books. I see volumes on art, architecture, history, and natural medicine interspersed with dozens of novels. Prim’s Jane Austen collection lines a shelf, the Harry Potter series sitting beside it.

Dotting the shelves, walls and every flat surface in the room are photos of smiling faces. Prim beaming while holding a newborn Lily in the hospital. Peeta standing in front of the Eiffel tower. Prim and I at her high school graduation. A closeup selfie of Prim and Peeta, wearing sunglasses and smiling in the sunshine. Teenaged Peeta sandwiched between two blond boys with the same crooked grins.

One framed picture of Lily draws my eye, hanging on the wall. At first I think it’s a black and white photo, perhaps edited or photo-shopped for artistic flair. Something about the angles and the contrasts between light and dark pulls me in, and I rise from the couch to get a closer look. I’m surprised to see it’s not a photo, but a drawing, the careful pencil lines re-creating the twinkle in her eyes and the glistening sheen of her lips in amazing detail.

“Beautiful,” I murmur, and turn to find that Peeta’s been watching me from the kitchen table.

“Thank you,” he replies with a shy smile.

“You did this?” I turn back to the drawing and notice the tiny “PM” in the lower corner. “It’s incredible. Where did you learn?”

“I was an art major. But it’s always been a hobby of mine. Since I was a kid.”

I glance around the room again and notice a few paintings, primarily landscapes; wild rugged mountainsides, an abandoned farmhouse. One piece - a scorching sunset just touching the rooftop of a building – squeezes my heart unexpectedly. I’ve never really studied art, but there’s a melancholy in the colors that I can’t explain.

He’s watching me with his steady gaze. “Did you do these, too?” I ask. He nods, waiting. “They’re beautiful. I can almost…” I shake my head. He doesn’t want to hear my amateur analysis.

“What?” he asks softly. “Go on, please.”

I move to the sunset painting, hanging near the couch. My finger lightly grazes the canvas. “There’s a sadness there. Like I can almost feel your pain through the brushstrokes.”

I glance back at him from the corner of my eye, afraid to see him smirking at my ignorance. But there is no laughter there. He’s watching me with an expression of awe, his mouth slightly open.

“That’s-” He shakes his head slightly and closes his mouth. “You’re very perceptive. I did that at a very dark time in my life.” I remember what Rue told me, the losses that Peeta suffered in his past, and wonder how he can turn that pain into such beauty.

“Dah-dah-dah!” I realize we’ve been staring at each other when Lily’s cheerful babble pulls his attention to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry Lily-bug! Are you ready to get down?” Peeta quickly moves to her high chair and wipes her hands and face with a cloth, then removes her bib and straps and lowers her to the floor. She crawls over to a cabinet nearby and begins pulling out plastic bowls and arranging them in piles around her.

“That will keep her busy for a while,” he laughs. “Are you hungry? I made dinner – nothing fancy, just some soup and bread.”

“Sure. Can I help?” I feel guilty that he’s been cooking and caring for Lily while I’ve slept the afternoon away.

“Nope. It’s all ready to go. Just have a seat and relax.”

I slide into a chair at the table and pick up the frame Lily had been playing with. It’s a picture of Prim and I from two Christmases ago, right before she left for Europe. We’re both wearing blue flannel shirts patterned with large white reindeer. Her hair is wild and unkempt, but Prim still looks stunning. Her smile lights up the room.

“God, she loved Christmastime,” I mumble.

“I know,” Peeta agrees quietly. He places a plate of steaming soup in front of me. It’s a creamy base with chunks of potato and broccoli. “She was so excited for Lily’s first Christmas. She went all out – even got her special pajamas for Christmas Eve.” He slides into the other chair and stirs his soup lightly, eyes downcast.

I study the picture in my hand with a sad laugh. “Christmas pajamas were a big deal to her. She even insisted Haymitch wear them one year.”

“I’ve heard stories about him from Prim – he’s like an uncle to you, right?” I nod and Peeta laughs. “I’ve seen pictures, too. Does that man ever smile?”

“Not really,” I chuckle. “He’s our resident Grinch, but he’s secretly got a heart of gold.”

Peeta nods, looking down and biting his lip. Finally he meets my eyes. “I’m really glad you decided to stay here with us, Katniss.”

Originally, I planned to stay at a hotel, uneasy with the idea of staying with a man I’d never met before. But Rue talked me into it. She had stayed with them before and insisted I’d be safe and comfortable with Peeta. I’m glad now that I listened. I can’t imagine spending tonight in a hotel room, alone, instead of here, in the company of people who knew and loved Prim as much as I did.

“Me, too,” I reply quietly.

I take a small bite of the soup, the flavors of onions and sharp cheese mingling on my tongue. Peeta breaks a chunk of bread off for me. It’s a warm crisp sourdough with a chewy center. I mimic his actions, dipping a piece into my bowl and taking a bite. It’s the perfect complement to the creamy soup. I cover my mouth as an appreciative “mmm” slips out. He smiles warmly at me and we both continue our meals in companionable silence.

After we’ve finished, Peeta takes Lily in for a bath while I begin rifling through pictures. He’s brought out some of Prim’s old albums from childhood and high school, photos she’d taken with her to college. In another box, he’s got stacks of photos he printed out from their time together. Pictures from their European trip, from her pregnancy, and family shots of he and Prim with Lily.

I’m staring at a picture of a very pregnant Prim, hands on her belly, head thrown back in laughter, when Peeta returns with Lily in his arms. Her curls are darkened and slightly damp, and she’s wearing a fleece sleeper covered in tiny owls. She puts her thumb in her mouth and leans her head on his shoulder sleepily.

“Any luck?” he asks before moving to sit down with me. He arranges Lily in his lap and she begins to bat at the pictures in front of her. I catch a hint of lavender soap.

“No,” I sigh, shuffling some of the photos around on the table. “I think this was probably too ambitious of a task for my first night here. It’s a bit much for me right now.”

“I understand,” he replies. His fingers land on a picture of Prim holding Lily. The baby is wrapped up in a hooded towel, eyes squinted shut and her mouth wide in a gummy grin. Prim is gazing at her, an adoring smile on her face. “Prim loved bath time.” He looks up at me and shrugs sadly. “Nighttime is the hardest. She was still nursing Lily, and they had a whole routine they used to…” His voice breaks. Clearing his throat, he wipes at his glistening eyes. “I’m sorry, you must be getting tired. I can show you to your room if you’d like.”

I realize that he must also be exhausted, and probably needs to begin settling Lily down for bed. “Yeah, that would be great.” I follow him down the hall, and he points out the closet where the towels are stored if I want to shower.

“You’ll be staying in Lily’s room,” he explains as he moves to open a door. “I moved her crib in with me a few days ago. Just in case she needs me in the middle of the night. I don’t want her to be alone.”

We enter a room with cream colored walls and a pale green shaggy rug. Stuffed animals are crowded onto hanging shelves – sheep, cows, puppies and cats – and a large giraffe stands in the corner. A daybed lines one wall with more stuffed animals covering its surface. On the opposite side, there’s a changing table near the door and a wide space where the crib must have been. Covering the entire span of the wall is a large mural of Noah’s ark, with pairs of animals filling the boat and crowds of others waiting to board.

“Your handiwork?” I ask, indicating the painting, and he nods. “It’s lovely.” I give him a smile, looking around the room. “Not sure you’ve got enough animals in here, though.”

He laughs, a genuine sound despite his weary expression. “I tried to warn you,” he says as he shakes his head. “Prim has a soft spot for animals.” Realizing his mistake, his smile falls. “I mean, had,” he corrects softly, staring at the mural.

“I should probably get unpacked,” I suggest after a beat, and he seems to shake himself out of his spell.

“I’m sorry - of course. We’ll be right across the hall if you need us.” He moves to the doorway and turns to give me one last smile. “Thank you again for coming, Katniss. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”

I shake my head. He’s been nothing but kind and hospitable, and I feel a little guilty that I even thought twice about this visit. “I’m glad that I could be here. I really needed to see this part of Prim’s life. You must have been very happy together.”

He nods sadly and looks down at Lily who has her head resting on his shoulder again. “She was a wonderful mother,” he says. “And one of my best friends.” He gives Lily a kiss on the top of her head and meets my eyes again. “I’ll let you get some rest now. Good night, Katniss.”

“Good night, Peeta.”

I sit on the bed and stare at the closed door, wondering if either of us will be getting any sleep tonight.

Chapter Text

What was I thinking?

Rue and Haymitch are arriving in Denver early this afternoon, and Peeta offered to pick them up at the airport and bring them back here to visit until they can check in to their hotel. He was only going to be gone for an hour or two. So, feeling desperate to help out in some way, I volunteered to stay with Lily while he went.

Five minutes after he left, the panic set in.

I must admit, my concern seems mostly unfounded. Lily is an easygoing baby, much like Prim was. She got a little upset when Peeta left, but settled down within a few minutes. Judging by the worried look on his face, and his repeatedly asking "Are you sure?" before leaving, he's probably having a harder time with the separation than she is.

She looks up at me with wide blue eyes, calmly waiting for me to entertain her. When I simply stare back in terror, she puts her thumb in her mouth and looks around for a toy to play with.

I guess the problem is I'm not really good with babies. They're cute and all, but so damn fragile. After spending years just trying to keep my sister and I alive, I'm terrified at the thought of any creature being that dependent on me again. I don't even want a pet. I certainly never saw myself getting married or having kids of my own.

My heart sinks as I remember the day Prim told me she was married. "I know how you feel about marriage and family, Katniss," she'd said. Did she think I would have looked down on her for making these choices? That I would have thought she was foolish or weak for wanting a family of her own? I'm ashamed to remember my cynical comments over the years. She must have thought I was a heartless monster.

Somehow I'm able to make the hours pass with minimal tears - mine and Lily’s. We play with the toys Peeta left behind, and Lily giggles as I make shaped blocks "disappear" into a covered bowl. I pull her into my lap on the floor and read to her from board books.

She's warm, solid, and smells faintly of the lavender soap from yesterday's bath. Holding her in my arms brings that same familiar comfort I felt when hugging Peeta yesterday. I can't explain the phenomenon, other than to recognize my considerable loneliness since Prim left. I'd forgotten how good it feels to touch another human being.

When Lily starts to whine during a book about sheep, I glance at the clock and realize she's probably ready for a nap. She rests her head on my shoulder as I gather her in my arms and carry her down to Peeta's room. I lay her in the crib, cover her with a blanket, and wish her sweet dreams. For a moment, she stares up at me silently before her lip starts quivering. I try to sneak out, hoping she'll soothe herself, but she releases a howl before I can make it to the door.

I can't leave her. Her cries are so mournful and helpless, they break my heart. I go back to get her, clutching her to my chest as she sobs. There's a glider in the corner, so I carry her over and begin shushing and rocking her in a rhythmic motion. It settles her slightly, but still my shirt is dampened by warm tears, her tiny hands clutching the fabric desperately.

I begin to hum, and that helps quiet her further. On a whim, I begin singing. Softly at first, then with more strength. She shudders with a sigh and nestles deeper into my chest. I close my eyes and continue the song until her body finally stills and she drifts off to sleep.

Deep in the meadow, under the willow
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow
Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes
And when you awake, the sun will rise.

Here it's safe, here it's warm
Here the daisies guard you from harm
Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true
Here is the place where I love you.

I slowly stop rocking and open my eyes. I'm shocked to see Peeta leaning against the door frame watching us, his eyes bright with tears. He helps me transport Lily to the crib and pulls the door closed carefully as we exit the room. I begin to retreat down the hall but he reaches for my hand to stop me. "Thank you, Katniss. That was - beautiful."

I shake my head, unnerved by the sincerity in his compliment. "No, it’s just a silly song. Something I used to sing to Prim."

He gazes at me solemnly. "It's not silly at all. Prim used to sing that to her every night. It was Lily's favorite song. I thought ... she'd lost that forever."

I squeeze his hand, and we stare at each other a moment longer. Side by side, we walk together back to the living room where Haymitch and Rue are waiting for us.

*-*-*-*

The next morning is Prim's memorial service. I've been dreading this moment since I arrived; having to say goodbye to my sister with all of these strangers bearing witness.

I stand at the front of the room in a pseudo-receiving line between Peeta and Haymitch, Prim's only family for all intents and purposes. The only person missing is Lily, who is staying with Mags during the service. We shake hands and exchange hugs with various friends who arrive sporadically. Prim only lived here for a year and a half, but unlike me, she had a knack for making friends no matter where she was. She'd gotten especially close to several women she met through her Lamaze class and the mothers' group she attended.

Annie was one such friend, she explains as she gives me a warm hug. "Katniss, I'm so sorry for your loss. Prim always spoke so highly of you. This is my husband Finnick," she says, putting a hand on the arm of the man speaking quietly to Peeta beside her. "Our son, Dylan, is a few months older than Lily. Prim and I were in the Mommy-and-Me group together."

I remember Peeta mentioning the Odairs in a chat over breakfast yesterday. Annie and Finnick had retrieved my rental car for us when Peeta drove me home from the funeral home. "Thank you for your help the other day-" I begin.

She dismisses my thanks with a wave of her hand and looks over at Peeta, still talking to Finnick. "We're just so grateful you decided to come out here. He’s got a long road ahead of him, and I’m so glad he’s got family around to support him.”

It’s strange for me to think of myself as Peeta’s family, but I guess he is technically my brother-in-law. Lily is my niece. On some level, they’re the only family I’ve got left now, too.

"Miss Everdeen." Annie's husband startles me by taking my hand and kissing the back of it. "May I say, you're just as lovely as your sister." He gives me a smile in greeting, deep dimples marking his cheeks before the smile fades and his face smoothes. "Prim was a beautiful creature and a pure soul. I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thank you."

"Obviously, we didn't have the opportunity to know her when she was young, so it's great to see pictures of her at all different ages." Finnick nods toward the poster Peeta and I had put together last night. "You can see how Lily favors her in their baby pictures."

"She does," I agree with a smile. "Though her hair is all Peeta."

Finnick laughs with me, but Annie's smile fades as someone catches her eye. "Why is she here?" she whispers to Finnick.

Our attention is drawn to the entryway where a blonde woman is talking with one of Peeta's coworkers. She's wearing a short, skin-tight black dress with more cleavage exposed than seems appropriate, given the occasion. She laughs lightly and tosses her hair over her shoulder dramatically.

"Who's that?" I ask.

"Glimmer Roberts," Finnick explains. "She was married to Cato Roberts, the CEO of Panem Financial Group?" I shrug, unfamiliar with the name. "They're going through an ugly divorce, and it's all over the local papers. If things go her way, she'll make millions in the settlement."

"I feel sorry for their poor daughter, being caught between those two egomaniacs. She's not even two years old," Annie says in a low voice. "She's a cute thing, too. They used to come to our mothers' group."

I nod. "So she and Prim were friends?"

Annie shakes her head lightly. "Not really. That's why I'm surprised to see her here. She's rude and opinionated; she and Prim had words once about teenaged mothers. I think Prim was a saint to put up with her as well as she did."

I watch as Glimmer makes her way to the receiving line and pulls Peeta into a tight embrace, kissing his cheek. "Peeta, oh sweetie. I am so sorry for your loss." She pulls back and clenches his hands between her own.

"Thank you, Glimmer," Peeta replies politely. "It's so nice of you to come here to honor Prim's memory."

"Of course I would come, honey," she replies. "Prim was a darling girl. She tried so hard to be a good mother, to overcome the disadvantages of her youth."

Peeta's jaw clenches tightly. "Yes, Prim was the best mother. Lily was so lucky to have her." He removes his hands from her grasp and puts one on my back. "I'd like to introduce you to Prim's sister. Katniss, this is Glimmer Roberts, one of Prim's... acquaintances."

Glimmer raises an eyebrow and moves to greet me. She gives me a limp handshake and a tight smile. "Katniss. Allow me to express my condolences."

I can see Annie watching us as she and Finnick chat with Haymitch. "Thank you, Glimmer. It's always nice to meet a friend of Prim's."

She nods but doesn't reply, turning the charm on full blast as she takes the spot Annie and Finnick have vacated in front of Haymitch.

"I'm sorry about that," Peeta murmurs quietly. "Prim used to always say that it was better to play the game rather than stoop to the level of someone like her. It just comes a little harder for me."

I grab a tissue from the table behind us and wipe the hot pink lipstick from his cheek. He gives me a grateful smile. "I'm not a fan of games myself," I reply quietly. "So I guess we have that in common."

*-*-*-*

Shortly after Glimmer's arrival, the funeral home director approaches us. "We'd like to begin the formal portion of the service in a few moments. Will one of you be speaking?"

I'm sure Peeta can see the look of terror in my eyes. He places a hand on my back and rubs lightly. "Yes, we'd just like a few moments to regroup first," he explains.

"Of course," replies the director. "Take as long as you need."

Peeta turns to face me fully once the man has walked away. "Hey, I can do the talking, if you'd like. Prim told me you were kind of shy in groups. You don't have to worry about a thing."

"Thank you," I whisper with a sigh of relief.

The director ushers us and the other mourners into seats and says a few words in greeting before calling Peeta up to speak. As I listen to him recount stories from their time together, I’m so glad he volunteered to give the eulogy. Somehow Peeta is taking the focus off the tragic circumstances that brought us here and instead is bringing Prim to life with his words.

He begins with the story of how they first met, when a passenger on the train to Barcelona mistook them for brother and sister. Prim played along and made up an entire background story for them, replete with childhood adventures in a treehouse, games of tag with neighborhood kids, and a fictional family pet, a mutt named Tiger.

Another story explains how Effie, the eccentric tour guide that earned him his “PJ” nickname, panicked when she saw someone eating pizza with their fingers in Italy. To make sure the woman could sleep at night, Prim instead cut hers up into tiny pieces with a knife and fork, just to make her happy. Effie fawned over her for the rest of the trip, making Prim an example for the other students of the proper way to behave. With her favored status, Prim was able to convince Effie to bring them to a few museums Peeta was interested in, even though they weren't on the original agenda.

He speaks so freely, not relying on notes or fumbling with his words in the slightest. I'm as captivated as the rest of the group listening to his strong, confident voice.

“Primrose was light itself. She threw herself into every adventure wholeheartedly, and being around her gave you the desire to live life to the fullest, too. In the same way, she committed herself completely to being a mother. She was understandably nervous, but she decided to take inspiration from her big sister, who was like a mother to her.”

He stops and meets my eyes. “Katniss… Lily and I, we want to thank you for Prim. It was you who helped shape her into the woman she became, and we are forever changed for the better by knowing her. Lily and I were so lucky to have had her in our lives. I only wish..." For the first time, he hesitates, his voice cracking slightly. He clears his throat and continues. "I wish Lily could have had more time, to get to know her mother. But I know Prim will be with us. Always. I see her face every time I look at Lily, and I know she'll be watching over her for me."

Peeta returns to his seat at my left, his eyes bright and shining. I reach out and squeeze his hand, too overcome to thank him for his kind words. As the director begins his closing remarks, I'm restless, feeling the sudden need to speak. I glance to my right and catch Haymitch watching me, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

I stand and interrupt the director. "Wait, please! I'd like to say something." He nods and moves away from the podium, granting me the floor. I look down to Peeta, whose hand I'm still clutching. He squeezes once, then lets me go, an encouraging smile on his lips.

"I'm not good with words," I begin, nervously scanning the group. Finally my eyes meet Peeta's in the front row, and he nods almost imperceptibly. I nod back, feeling as though he's holding me up with his gaze.

"Everything Peeta said was true. Prim was the best sister anyone could have asked for. She was sweet, and funny, and so incredibly loving. She found something good in every person she met, and people just naturally flocked to her. My father called her his angel; he said she'd have to be to melt the heart of a grinch like Haymitch." Scattered guests chuckle along with me, including Haymitch himself.

"But she wasn't an angel," I continue. "She was human, and she wasn't perfect. She had a stubborn side to her. Not sure where she got that from," I say drily, eliciting more chuckles. "And her heart was so big, it sometimes led her to make questionable decisions. Like, when she was six, Prim brought a stray cat home even though we couldn't really afford it. The thing was infested with fleas and had lost an eye in a fight, but she insisted on keeping him. She cleaned him up and nursed him back to health. Even though there were days when we were hungry, she'd always make sure that he was fed. 'That's what you do for family,' she said. 'You take care of each other.'"

I glance over at the large portrait of Prim and Lily at the front of the room. "I only wish she would have let me do that this past year," I say quietly, trying to keep my voice steady. "We were separated for a time, and I'll always be sad that we lost those months together." I look back to Peeta, who is watching me with an intense expression. "But I'll also be forever grateful that she was able to experience all the amazing things she did while we were apart. She lived a short life, but she didn't waste a minute of it. In her time on earth she got to travel, and see the world, fall in love, and become a mother."

My control is waning as my voice breaks. I can feel every eye in the room on me, but I focus only on Peeta, taking comfort in his steady gaze. "Peeta, I want to thank you for being there for Prim. For giving her the opportunity to be a mom. For taking care of her when I couldn't."

I return to my seat and Peeta stands, enveloping me tightly in his arms. I cling to him, needing this comfort so badly, I don't even care who is watching.

*-*-*-*

After the service and a meal at a nearby restaurant, we give Rue and Haymitch a ride back to the airport. While Haymitch and Peeta chat, I give Rue a big hug and we promise to talk soon. Haymitch then comes to say his goodbye to me while Rue and Peeta speak.

"How're you doing, sweetheart?"

"I don't know," I shrug, crossing my arms in front of me. "It's been kind of a shitty week. But I'm still alive, I guess."

"Staying alive is a good start," he replies with a shake of his head. "But I hope you aren't handling this like you usually do - shutting the world out. In times like these we need the support of other people. And there are lots of us that love you and want to help. Including the boy." He quirks his head in the direction of Peeta and Rue. They've moved away, closer to the gates, probably to give us some privacy. Peeta catches me staring and gives me a small smile before returning to his conversation with Rue.

"I know." I do. I can't imagine the hell of these past few days if I didn't have Peeta by my side. I'm not normally one to rely on others, but even I must admit it has helped. Not being alone.

"You do, don't you?" Haymitch studies me, his forehead wrinkled in a frown.

"Yeah." I shrug again and give him a scowl as he continues to stare at me. "What?"

He chuckles and holds his hands up in surrender. "Nothin'. Just glad to see you're finally letting someone in past that tough shell of yours."

I roll my eyes and reach for his bag, heading toward the gate where Rue and Peeta are waiting. "Whatever. Don't get all sentimental on me now, old man."

"Ah, now there's the surly girl I know and love," Haymitch teases.

"Ready to go, Mr. Abernathy?" Rue asks, adjusting her backpack on her shoulders.

"Damnit, Rue. You know it makes me feel like a senior citizen when you call me that."

"Sorry, Mr. Abernathy," she says with a wink in my direction. "Force of habit."

Haymitch grumbles some more as he takes his carry-on from me. "So you'll be staying a little longer then?"

"Yeah." I glance at Peeta who has moved to my side. "We talked, and I’m going to stay through the holidays. I thought... Christmas. I should be there for Lily."

He nods, smiling sadly, then leans in to give me a kiss on the cheek. "You take care of yourself. You, too, boy."

"Yes, sir," Peeta agrees. "We'll take care of each other."

"Sir," Haymitch mimics with a huff. "You people sure know how to make a man feel old. Let's go, whippersnapper," he barks in Rue's direction. "We've got a plane to catch."

Rue laughs and turns to wave goodbye one last time as they leave. Haymitch puts a hand up as well, but never looks back.

Peeta lets out a big sigh beside me. "I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted. What do you say we pick up Lily and head home?"

I rub at my neck, suddenly aware of how ready I am to get out of this dress and heels and into my flannel pajamas. "That sounds like a perfect idea," I say with a small smile.

It's only when we're driving away from the airport that I realize that this time, I didn't even flinch when he used the word home.

Chapter Text

Nighttime has always been hard for me. I suffered terrible nightmares after my father's death, waking from dreams where it was me that was trapped beneath the earth, surrounded by darkness, suffocating slowly from air thick with gravel and dust.

Since Prim died, the dreams have changed. Now they're all violence; screeching tires, explosions, raging fire. I wake with my sister's scream ringing in my ears.

In some ways, the nights that I only suffer insomnia are a welcome break. Tonight is one of the good nights, I suppose, as I glance at the monkey clock in Lily's room. It's 3:27 AM and I've yet to fall asleep.

After tossing and turning for hours, I finally decide to get up and get a glass of water. Luckily, I can do this without disturbing the rest of the household. In the week I've been staying at Peeta's, I've started to make myself at home; I know where the linens are stored, where he stashes the extra sugar, and how to run the dishwasher. Something as simple as getting a glass of water is something I can manage even in the dark of night.

I move quietly out of bed and into the hallway, careful not to disturb Lily as I pass Peeta's room. She's been sleeping better, but there are still nights that she wakes up wet or hungry, or simply needing comfort. On those nights, Peeta doesn’t get much sleep, based on his weary expression the next morning. I certainly don't want to contribute to his sleeplessness.

Peeta's door is open as usual. As I pass by, I hear an anguished groan and sense a sudden movement in the dark room. I’m frozen in the hall as he turns on his small bedside lamp; he’s sitting upright in bed, a look of terror on his face. Throwing back the covers, he rushes to Lily’s crib, clutching the side rail so tightly his knuckles go white. Only after he’s stared at her tiny chest rising and falling peacefully does he seem to take a breath himself.

"Peeta?" I whisper, not wanting to startle him, but failing anyway. He jumps and places a hand on his chest, turning toward my voice.

"Katniss?" he whispers back. He checks on Lily one last time before joining me in the hallway, pulling the bedroom door shut behind him. "I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. I’m still not used to how quiet you can be," he chuckles softly.

The nightlight from the bathroom washes a dim glow in the hallway. My eyes have adjusted enough to see that his face is flushed and his curls are wild and disheveled. "Are you okay, Peeta? I thought I heard a noise…?"

He runs a hand through his hair in an effort to tame it. "No - yeah. I mean - I’m fine," he stammers. "Lily must have been talking in her sleep, and woke me." He shakes his head and closes his eyes for a moment before giving me a small smile. "Are you okay, though? What are you doing up?"

"Couldn’t sleep," I shrug, accepting his explanation doubtfully. I’ve been up all night and haven’t heard a peep out of Lily, but he seems so flustered, I don’t question him. “I was just going to get some water.”

“Oh. Did you want me to get that for you?” he asks. He tries to be discreet, but I see him throw a sideways glance at his bedroom door.

“No, no,” I dismiss with a wave of my hands. “I can do it. You get back in there to Lily.”

He looks relieved, but conflicted. “Are you sure? You are a guest here, I -”

“Don’t be silly,” I interrupt. “I’m perfectly capable of getting a drink on my own. Thank you anyway.”

He nods and reaches behind him for the doorknob. “Goodnight, Katniss.”

“Goodnight, Peeta,” I reply, but the door is already closed behind him.

*-*-*-*

“Are you sure you don’t need any help around here instead? Maybe the toilet needs scrubbing?”

Peeta laughs as he chops carrots for the stew. “Are you telling me you’d rather clean a toilet than go shopping?”

“Yes,” I reply, deadpan. “A thousand times, yes.”

Peeta puts the knife down on the cutting board. “If you feel that strongly about it, you don’t have to go, Katniss. Annie will understand.”

Throwing out Annie’s name makes me feel guilty for complaining. She’s been over to the apartment a few times so that Dylan and Lily could play together, and I genuinely like spending time with her. She’s quiet, but funny, and really down to earth. During our most recent visit, she suggested that the two of us could go Christmas shopping together some time.

“I thought maybe you’d like to get out for a few hours. You’ve been here for a couple of weeks now and you never really get the chance to leave the apartment.” She tucked her auburn hair behind her ear, suddenly shy.

“And, well…  I just thought it would be nice to have some girl time. I love Dylan, but sometimes it feels like I’m losing my mind singing nursery rhymes all day long. And Finn is great, but he isn’t exactly the most ideal shopping partner.” I listened politely, biting back my own loathing of shopping.

“I don’t know, I guess I just miss Prim,” she added softly. Well that did it. Now I had to go.

“I wouldn’t do that to Annie,” I admit, grabbing an apple from the bowl on the table and taking a big bite.

“She would understand,” Peeta insists.

I swallow and sigh. “No, they’re planning on coming over for dinner tonight anyway, and you’ve already started cooking. If I back out now, it would ruin everything.”

“The four of us could just hang out here instead, if you aren’t comfortable spending time with her alone,” he suggests. “Or maybe we should just cancel, have a quiet night at home…”

He knows me so well already; knows my introverted nature, and understands my aversion to social situations. But Finnick and Annie have grown on me over the past couple of weeks, and I was looking forward to their visit tonight. Besides, I know Annie really wanted a chance to buy a Christmas gift for Finnick, child-free.

I shake my head and take another bite of my apple. “It’sh fine,” I mumble through the mouthful before swallowing. “I’m a big girl. I can handle a couple of hours of shopping.”

Peeta gives me a big grin and goes back to chopping the vegetables. “I’ll make it up to you with dinner tonight. I’m making cheese buns.”

My eyebrows fly up as I remember the explosion of tangy, salty heaven when I first tried the cheese buns last week. Rue was right when she said they were delicious. “Now that just might make shopping worthwhile,” I admit with a nod.

Peeta just tosses a wink in my direction and gets back to work.

*-*-*-*

“Thank you again for doing this, Katniss.” Annie’s voice drifts in from the other side of the dressing room door. “My sister is exactly your size, and this makes shopping for her so much easier.”

I exit the dressing room shaking my head, the sleeves of the sweater flopping down past my fingers. The neckline slips to the side, exposing a shoulder. “Oh, my,” Annie says, her nose wrinkling up. “Guess I misjudged that one. Do you mind if I go out and look for a smaller size?”

“Sure. No problem,” I say as cheerfully as possible. I’m starting to get a little tired, but dinner isn’t for another two hours, so I guess there’s no real rush.

Annie beams at me gratefully. “Thank you so much! This will be the last stop, I swear.” She rushes out into the department store, and I move into my dressing room to remove the oversized shirt.

As I remove the sweater, I hear voices through the door, and someone enters the dressing room next to mine. I’m not normally one to eavesdrop, but my attention is drawn when a familiar name rings out.

“Don’t worry, Glimmer. You’re going to win this case soon. Then you can move on with your life and find some other puppy dog to follow you around.”

A trill of laughter rings out in the stall beside me. Looking down, I see someone slip off a pair of heels before a puddle of blue silk hits the floor. Her toenails are painted candy apple red. “I’m certainly not going to make the same mistakes this time around, Clove. Cato may have had a lot of money and influence, but any other skills he had ended in the boardroom, if you know what I mean.”

The woman waiting outside the door laughs. “Do you have any prospects on the horizon?”

“Nothing serious. But you know who I wouldn’t mind taking for a spin around the block?” Glimmer asks. “Our newest Mommy-and-Me member: Mr. Mom himself.”

My heart stops. Does she mean Peeta? He took Lily to the play group once this week so she could visit with some of her friends.

“Mr. Mom? You mean Peeta Mellark?” The other woman – Clove – sounds as confused as I feel. “Didn’t his wife die less than a month ago?”

“Oh, come on, Clove,” Glimmer scoffs. “You know as well as I do that their so-called ‘marriage’ was just a sham. I have it on good authority that they only knew each other a couple of months before they moved out here. And suddenly a baby appears only six months later? That’s a shotgun wedding if I’ve ever seen one.”

“I guess,” Clove responds. “I never really saw them together.”

“Exactly!” Glimmer replies. “And the few times they were out together, they barely touched each other. You’d think being newlyweds they’d be all over each other, but I never saw them so much as kiss once!”

Clove chuckles. “Not everyone is as fond of PDAs as you are, Glimmer.”

“True,” Glimmer agrees with a throaty laugh. “But let me tell you - if I had Peeta Mellark in my bed, I would be touching him all the time.” My fists clench instinctively, but I try to breathe slowly to calm myself.

Glimmer continues, oblivious to my presence. “Prim was a cute kid, but she was in way over her head. She probably got pregnant on purpose just to trap him into getting married. He’s the perfect candidate for that scheme; your typical ‘nice guy’ that always does the right thing.” I try to focus on my breathing, ready to climb over the wall and throttle her for daring to speak that way about my sister.

“Except that he’s also smokin’ hot. I’d love to see just how nice he is in the bedroom.” I hear the rustling of clothes and a zipping sound followed by the door opening beside me. “What do you think?”

Clove lets out a hum of approval. “You look amazing. You’ll certainly be turning heads at that Christmas party.”

“Sorry about that, Katniss! I had to wait for someone to check in the back for-” Annie pauses at the recognition of the other two women in the dressing room. “Oh. Hello, Clove,” she says quietly. “Glimmer.” The contempt in her voice is clear.

I suppose it’s time for me to come out and face my fate. I open the dressing room door to find the three women staring at me. Clove is a slight woman with smooth brown hair styled in a short bob. She looks at me blankly, her eyes shifting to her friend beside her. Glimmer is dressed in a slinky red halter dress that ends mid-thigh. She looks me over critically, and I realize I’m only clad in my beige bra and a pair of jeans. I cross my arms defensively across my chest.

“Katniss,” Glimmer says, surprise turning to barely veiled disgust. “How nice to see you again. Clove, this is Primrose Mellark’s sister, Katniss.”

Clove’s eyebrows shoot up, but she quickly composes herself before giving me a sheepish smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Katniss. I was so sorry to hear about Prim.”

I give her a nod, the scowl on my face clearly conveying my true feelings.

“Can you help me out of this, Clove?” Glimmer asks, turning around and pulling her blond hair over her shoulder. “The zipper got stuck on the way up.”

“Sure,” Clove answers, undoing the zipper for her. Glimmer lets the garment drop to the floor and turns to face us. She’s wearing a lacy black bra and matching boy shorts.

“Thanks,” she says, tossing a condescending smile in our direction. “Better get changed or I’ll be late for my hair appointment. Nice to see you again, ladies.” She moves into her dressing room and closes the door behind her.

I scoop up the sweater from Annie and close the door. There’s a small bench in the corner and I sit down, putting my face in my hands as I try to calm myself. Glimmer’s words about my sister and Peeta keep echoing through my head, and feelings of anger, revulsion, and something else I can’t quite place are surging through me. I want to do something, but it’s pointless. Prim would tell me to ignore her; that someone like Glimmer isn’t worth my time.

But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to put an arrow through her eye right now.

“Katniss?” A soft knocking on the dressing room door pulls me from my thoughts. “Are you okay in there? Glimmer and Clove are gone, if that helps.”

I take a cleansing breath and stand to put the sweater on. It fits perfectly this time, and I head out to show Annie. She gives me an approving smile, which fades as she studies my face. “Did Glimmer say or do anything to upset you, Katniss? I know how she can be…”

Should I confide in Annie? Repeat the horrible things Glimmer said? Spread more gossip?

No. I want to forget it. Prim was right; it’s better not to play these games. I shake my head and give her a small smile.

“No, she was just talking about her divorce, being obnoxious. I can definitely see why you dislike her so much.”

Annie’s shoulders relax and she smiles back. “Yeah. Well, forget about her. This looks like the perfect size,” she says, touching my arm gently. “Why don’t you get changed and we can get out of here? Head back to the boys and the kids and that yummy dinner we’ve been promised.”

I nod and return to the dressing room. As I dress, I try to push the unsettled feeling down and look forward to the friendly faces waiting for us back home.

*-*-*-*

“Thank you so much for today,” Annie says, giving me a big hug. “For the shopping, dinner… everything.”

“I had nothing to do with dinner,” I reply with a laugh. “But you’re welcome. Thanks for the shopping, too. I never would have had the chance if you didn’t suggest it.”

She releases me and moves to give Peeta a hug while Finnick comes to say goodbye. “As always, Ms. Everdeen, it was a pleasure.” He kisses the back of my hand and gives me that dimpled smile I’ve become familiar with. “I’m not sure if we’ll see you again before you go, but if not, I hope you have a safe trip.”

“Thank you,” I smile. My flight home isn’t scheduled until New Year’s day, but Annie and Finnick will be traveling down south to spend the holiday with family. There’s a good chance this is the last time I’ll see them before I leave. “You’ll keep an eye on them for me, right?” I ask, my eyes drifting to Peeta as he talks to Annie.

“Of course.” My gaze shifts back to Finnick, who is watching me with a curious expression on his face. “But you won’t be a stranger, right, Katniss? You’ll be back to visit us all soon, I hope?”

“Sure,” I say with a nod. But the reality is that I’m not sure when I’ll be able to come back. I’ve used all of my vacation time for this trip, plus some from next year in advance.

Finnick gives me a sad smile, and I can tell he doesn’t believe me. “Well, I certainly hope that you do, Katniss. We’ve all come to love you already, and we’ll miss you terribly.” His eyes move to Peeta, and I know he’s not just talking about himself and Annie. My stomach twists at the implication.

Annie bends to pick up Dylan from the floor and gives me one last smile. “We’ll talk, Katniss. You have my number and email, and you can check in anytime.” She gives Peeta a kiss on the cheek and waves goodbye to Lily, playing on the floor.

“Thank you both for coming,” Peeta says, moving closer to me, and putting his hand on my back. His touch is light but sears through my shirt. This whole scene feels strangely familiar, but wrong somehow. Like it’s our apartment they’re leaving. I step away slightly and he looks down at me with a small frown, pulling his hand away as though he were burned.

Finnick is watching us carefully, no doubt taking in the subtle coolness between us. “Thanks for having us. Now we’ll let you both get some rest. I’m sure it’s been a long day for everyone.” He gives us his signature grin and wishes us a Merry Christmas before grabbing their bags and ushering Annie out the door.

As Peeta locks up, I move back into the living room, picking Lily up from where she was playing on the floor and snuggling her into my lap on the couch. I lean into her, smelling the lavender in her hair, the scent calming me. She babbles softly to the block she’s holding.

Peeta sits in the recliner and sighs. “Busy day,” he says, smiling at us. “I should get Lily’s bath going, but it’s nice to just sit for a minute.”

“I can do it tonight,” I offer. I go home soon, and something inside me knows I’m going to miss these little moments terribly. I want to make the most of them while I can.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I reply with a nod. I kiss the top of Lily’s head and she looks up at me, waving the block in her hand. “I want to.”

I turn back to look at Peeta, who is watching us with a steady gaze. I can’t quite decipher the expression on his face, but something about it unnerves me, so I look away again. He sighs and leans forward on the chair.

“Katniss, if I did anything to upset you tonight –”

“No,” I insist. He didn’t. Not really. I’ve been a bundle of nerves since we ran into Glimmer, her words still haunting me. But I can’t explain all of that to Peeta. “You didn’t, honestly. I’m just tired.”

He chuckles, looking at me sympathetically. “Too much shopping?”

I take the opportunity and roll my eyes. “Definitely. The crowds were insane.”

“I bet,” he laughs. “People love to wait until the last minute.”

I agree and Lily starts to squirm on my lap. I stand and scoop her up onto my hip. “Well, I better get the bath going so this one can get to bed.”

Peeta stands with us. “I’ll get her pajamas ready and warm her bottle while you’re in there.”

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you, Katniss,” he replies. “For tonight. For helping with Lily. We really love having you here with us. We’re going to miss you so much when you leave.”

His blue eyes study me earnestly. I bite at my lip and nod, trying to accept the compliment. I know this is just Peeta’s way, wearing his heart on his sleeve, but I’m still getting used to it.

I start to walk toward the bathroom, but something’s niggling at me. I turn back, and see that Peeta has stopped on his way to the kitchen to check on me.

“Did you need anything?” he asks.

“No. I just –” I give him a small smile. “I’m going to miss you both, too.”

His face lights up as he smiles back at me. I adjust Lily on my hip and head down to her bath, my cheeks burning for some reason. Lily pats at my face and I give her a kiss on the top of her head again.

I gather her bath supplies and run the water in the tub. My mind keeps replaying the events of the day, but I push the thoughts away and focus on Lily. She splashes playfully, and giggles happily when she pops a soap bubble.

As she looks up at me with her gummy grin, I can’t help but wonder how these two worked their way so deeply into my heart so quickly.

Chapter Text

I guess I watched too many skiing movies growing up. A part of me had assumed that winter in Denver would involve constant blizzards, with drifts of snow rising two feet over my head.

In reality, this December has been relatively mild. We’ve had a few snow storms, but nothing a hearty New England girl couldn’t handle. A few inches fell this morning, and since it’s Christmas Eve, it makes the day feel a little cleaner, a little brighter. It’s almost enough to make me forget how much I am dreading the day ahead. Almost.

After lunch, Peeta asks me if I could find the pajamas that Prim had purchased for Lily. “She put them in a box in Lily’s closet,” he explains as he cleans the peaches from Lily’s cheeks. “I should probably wash them before she wears them tonight.”

I agree and head down to Lily’s room to get them. I sift through a couple of boxes, finding several full of clothes in sizes much too large for Lily, including bathing suits and short sets. Prim loved to shop, so I can only imagine she was taking advantage of sales to build up Lily’s wardrobe.

Finally, I locate a box on the shelf that has a red and white “Baby’s 1st Christmas” bib, decorated with a large smiling penguin, on top. Under that, I find a pink fuzzy sleeper patterned with smiling snowmen. Each snowman has a rainbow patterned scarf tied around its neck. I can’t help but grin at the cheerful colors. It’s exactly what I would have envisioned Prim picking out.

Beneath the sleeper is a shopping bag. It’s partially open, and through the space I see another smiling snowman. Wondering if she had bought a backup set, I open the bag and pull out two pairs of red pajamas in the same snowman pattern as Lily’s sleeper. Two pairs of adult-sized pajamas. Obviously, these were intended for Prim and Peeta.

I debate putting the pajamas back and pretending I never saw them when I realize the bag is still not empty. Reaching in, I pull out two flat boxes wrapped in green and gold paper. My eyes well up as I recognize the loopy handwriting on the tags. One reads “Daddy” and the other “Auntie Katniss.”

My breath comes in chokes and gasps as I absorb the significance of the label and what might have been. Prim was planning on sending me this gift. I can only assume she meant to tell me about Lily this Christmas, and we would have all reunited under much happier circumstances.

“Any luck?” Peeta calls out from the hall. As he opens the door, he finds me on the floor, tears streaming down my face. “Katniss?” he questions softly, dropping down to sit beside me. “Are you okay?” He surveys the items in my lap, reads the labels on the gifts, and sighs. “Oh.”

I sniff and rub at my nose with the back of my hand. “She – she was going to tell me, wasn’t she?”

Peeta puts an arm around me, pulling me into his side. “I didn’t know for sure. I mean, I’d been begging her to, and she finally seemed like she might be getting ready. But –” He reaches out and traces the letters on the package. “I didn’t know, I swear. She must have finally made up her mind.”

The bedroom door slowly moves open wider and Lily makes her way in, crawling toward us. “Dah!” she cries out gleefully. She climbs into Peeta’s lap and grabs for the pink sleeper, rubbing it against her cheek with a happy grin. There’s something so innocent in her smile that I laugh through my tears.

“Guess Lily likes her pajamas,” I say with a chuckle.

“Guess so.” Peeta kisses the top of her head and moves to stand up, shifting her to his hip. Looking down, he holds his hand out to help me up. I gather the remaining items in one arm and grab his hand with the other. He pulls me to a stand effortlessly, and doesn’t let go when I’m finally upright. “Are you going to be okay?” he asks, giving my hand one more squeeze.

“Yeah,” I reply, releasing his hand to wipe the last tears from my eyes.

“Why don’t you get a bath?” he offers. “Relax for a bit. I’ll take care of this stuff,” he nods toward the boxes.

I haven’t taken a bath in years, but it sounds like a welcome idea right now. “Are you sure? You don’t need help with Lily or anything?”

“I insist,” he assures me. “Lily will be going down for a nap soon, and everything else is taken care of. You need to take care of yourself for a change.”

“Okay,” I reluctantly agree. I put the items on the bed and move to get my robe from the back of the door. “Thank you, Peeta.”

“Don’t be silly.” He dismisses my thanks with a frown and a shake of his head. “We’ve got a few hours ‘til dinner. Take your time.”

I nod and give him a small smile. I slip down the hall to the bathroom, taking a moment to clear the tiny colored rubber ducks from the tub so I can run my bath. Sinking down into the warm water, I close my eyes, grateful for the chance to wash my tears away privately.

*-*-*-*

“Feeling better?” Peeta is folding laundry in the living room when I return a couple of hours later. I took his advice and took a long bath, then spent some time in my room by myself, reading. Peeta had left a glass of wine on my end table, and it added that extra touch of calm to the afternoon. I hadn’t realized just how much I needed that time to myself or how refreshing it could be. I feel as though a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

“I am,” I say with a smile. “Thank you for that.”

“Anytime, Katniss.” He shakes his head, a contrite expression on his face. “I just… I hope I haven’t been crowding you. If you ever need space-”

“No.” I put my hands up to stop him before he can apologize unnecessarily. “You’ve been perfect. I love spending time with you and Lily. But this was a great chance to be by myself for a little while, too.”

Lily crawls to me and clings to my leg, eliciting a small laugh from Peeta. “Okay,” he concedes. “I know you’re only staying for a few more days, but promise me you’ll let me know if you ever need a break again.”

“Deal,” I agree with a grin. I lean down and pick up Lily, placing her in my lap as I sit down beside the laundry basket on the couch. Glancing in at the contents, I see the bright red of the Christmas pajamas in the bundle. “You washed these?” I ask, tugging on the fabric to reveal a pair of pants.

He shrugs and gives me a sheepish smile. “Prim had already taken the tags off. I thought… I should probably wear them tonight. For her.” I nod, unsure if the ‘her’ he’s referring to is Lily or Prim. I suppose the gesture makes sense for both of their sakes.

The bath must have refreshed my mental state more than I realized, because I’m suddenly overcome with bold confidence. I rifle through the basket and begin to pull out the pieces of red flannel. “Well, if you’re going to look silly, I guess I should, too.” I check out the smaller pair and decide it should fit me, even if it is a size too big. Though she was younger, Prim was a few inches taller than me; she used to tease me about who was really the “little” sister.

“You don’t have to do that, Katniss,” Peeta insists.

“Yes, I do.” I explain. “For her,” I repeat.

He gives me a grateful smile, and scoops Lily up from my lap. “Then I guess it’s a pajama party tonight. What do you think of that, Lily?”

“Gah-ga-GAH!” she babbles happily, patting his scruffy beard.

“Oh, you like the idea, do you?” Peeta laughs. He blows raspberries on her cheeks, eliciting a fit of giggles from Lily. I watch them together; their blond curls tangling together, Lily’s face scrunched up in laughter and Peeta’s sapphire eyes glowing with love.

As sad as the last few weeks have been, I can’t help but think that this is exactly would Prim would have wanted for them this Christmas.

*-*-*-*

Since it’s just the two of us, we’re keeping our Christmas Eve dinner simple. Well, “simple” according to Peeta; I think he’s cooked more for us than I’ve ever cooked in my life.

A roasted chicken rests on the countertop, the scents of sage and garlic filling the apartment. He also made a chopped salad, roasted rosemary potatoes, steamed green beans, and whipped sweet potatoes, which Lily can share. He’s been baking for days; a honey bread for this evening, cinnamon rolls for tomorrow morning, and enough cheese buns to feed a small army.

I sit down at the table, watching him as he drops cookie dough onto a tray. They’re a hearty blend of oats, nuts and chocolate chips. “Where did you learn to do all this?” I ask, stealing a chocolate chip out of the bowl.

He gives me an exaggerated chastising frown. “What, the cookies?” he asks.

“The cookies, and the breads, the buns… all of it.”

He puts the last blob of dough on the tray and transfers the tray to the oven. From a cooling rack nearby, he plates several cookies and joins me at the table. He slides the dish of cookies in front of me and waves his hand toward me to encourage me to have one.

“Before dinner?” I ask.

“It’s a special occasion,” he says with a smile. He waits for me to take a bite before speaking again. “My family ran a bakery,” he explains quietly.

I swallow the mouthful, my throat suddenly dry. I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories. He pushes a glass of milk in my direction and I take a drink gratefully. “I’m sorry,” I apologize. “I wasn’t thinking.”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s okay. I’m not sure if you know ... that they’re gone?”

I nod. I don’t know any details, but I at least knew that much. "Rue told me. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to."

“No, I want to. It’s Christmas,” he says with a sad smile. “This time of year always reminds me of them.”

I understand. Christmas always reminds me of happier times with my father. My heart clenches. I suppose it will always remind me of Prim now, too. Pushing down my sorrow, I turn my attention to Peeta. “Tell me about them.” I prod gently.

“Everything in our family revolved around the bakery,” he begins.  “We lived above it, and all of us helped run it. My mother took care of the business side of things. She was great with numbers, inventory, keeping on top of what sold best and what new trends were popular.” He chuckles ruefully. “She wasn’t the most patient mother, especially with three rowdy boys, but she ran that bakery like a well-oiled machine.”

He runs a hand through his curls, a nervous habit I’ve noticed over the past few weeks. “Dad did the baking. He was amazing; he had hundreds of recipes all stored right here,” he says with a tap of his finger to his forehead. “Watching him was like watching a ballet or something. The way he moved - gathering ingredients, kneading the dough - he was so fluid. His hands moved like a machine, without any hesitation. It was incredible.” He pauses, lost in thought.

“Is he the one that taught you to bake?”

He nods. “My brothers and I worked at the bakery nights and weekends, and in the summers when school let out. Cheap labor,” he chuckles.

He rises, moving to the bookshelf and taking down the framed photo of him with two other sandy haired boys. ““We all had our specialties. Andy -” he indicates the tallest boy, on his left. “He liked order and routine, so he loved the purity of baking bread. Sourdough, rye, French bread, all of them. Phil –” he points to the boy on his right with the mischievous grin. “He was our rebel. He liked doing the cookies. He could stay out late at night, doing God knows what, oversleep, and still whip up a huge batch in under fifteen minutes.”

“What about you?” I ask.

“My favorite part was decorating the cakes. I got to combine my love of art with my love of baking. Not much use for that these days,” he shrugs, “but at least I can still make some of the more practical recipes.”

My eyes drift over to the loaves on the counter. “Like honey bread?”

He smiles at me, his eyes clear but sad. “Like honey bread. Dad always made that on Christmas Eve. It was one of our traditions.”

“Like Prim and her pajamas,” I note. “Traditions are important.”

“Guess I’ll have to start some new ones for Lily,” he says. At the sound of her name, we hear a tiny voice from down the hall. Peeta laughs and stands up. “And on that note, I guess it’s time to get her up from her nap.”

I quickly stand beside him. “Actually, do you mind if I get her up? I’ve only got a couple more days, and, I just…” I shrug, struggling to put words to my feelings. I know I keep volunteering to help, but I’ve grown attached to Lily. I just want to spend every possible minute of the rest of my trip with her.

Peeta seems to know what I mean without me having to say it. “Why don’t you go get her and I’ll get dinner ready,” he suggests with a nod. “I think she’d like the extra time to spend with her aunt.”

I give him a grateful grin and move down the hall to get my niece.

*-*-*-*

Peeta lets me do Lily’s bath routine after dinner again. I dress her in her Christmas pajamas and dry her hair carefully to preserve the curls. She nuzzles herself into my neck with a smile, and a part of me melts.

“So how does this tradition work?” Peeta asks as we enter the living room. “Prim was pregnant and uncomfortable last year, so we didn’t really do the pajama thing.”

I put Lily on the floor to play and join him on the couch. “Well for starters, the pajamas would be wrapped up and under the tree, and they’d be the one gift we opened on Christmas Eve.”

Peeta nods thoughtfully. “I guess technically, we did open them today, since we found them this afternoon. So that part’s done.”

“True,” I agree.

“Okay. Then what?” he asks.

I think back to happier Christmases, my family gathered together, talking and laughing. “Then we’d all put our pajamas on, and watch ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ with popcorn and hot chocolate.”

“That can definitely be arranged,” Peeta says with a grin.

After I put Lily to bed for the night, the two of us retire to our rooms to change. As expected, my pajamas are a little too big, but I roll up the pants and sleeves to make it work. I look at myself in the mirror and have to smile. “You won again, Prim,” I say quietly to my reflection. “It’s been a few years, but you got me in Christmas pajamas again.” I look up, pointing at the ceiling. “Haymitch can never know about this.”

I move into the living room where Peeta is arranging gifts under the Christmas tree in the corner. He insisted on putting it up a few days ago, claiming that Prim would have wanted Lily to experience it on her first Christmas. It felt wrong to put one up initially, but looking at the way it lights up the room, I'm glad I didn't object.

I clear my throat to let him know I’ve arrived; he claims I walk so quietly I’m always startling him. At the sound of my voice, he stands up and faces me. A smile spreads across his face quickly. “You look great,” he says, a touch of awe in his voice. “Well?” He holds his arms out and spins around. “How do I look?”

Something about those stocky, broad shoulders in red flannel snowman pajamas warms my heart and makes me want to laugh out loud at the same time. “You… look… ridiculous,” I say, unable to hold in the chuckle any further.

“I do, don’t I?” he chuckles with me. He looks down to adjust his shirt, and his wedding ring catches a glint of light from the Christmas tree. Suddenly I’m reminded again why we’re here.

“Prim would have loved it,” I tell him quietly.

He meets my eyes again with a sad smile. “I think she would have,” he agrees. He plays with the ring a little before moving over to the couch.

“Well, I got everything you requested.” He motions to the coffee table where a large bowl of popcorn and two mugs of hot chocolate are waiting. “And the movie’s all queued up. Are you ready?”

“I am.” We sit side by side on the couch and Peeta pulls the blanket from the back to drape across our legs. It’s Prim’s blanket, the same one he covered me in the first night I arrived, and somehow it feels like another way for her to be here with us tonight. He hands me my hot chocolate and pulls the bowl of popcorn up onto the couch between us before leaning back to start the movie.

*-*-*-*

“Katniss?”

I'm straddling the worlds between awake and asleep. I'm warm, so warm, and my mattress is just right. Firm, but soft. I never want to leave it. I grab my sheet and hold on tight.

“Katniss?” The voice comes again, a whisper drifting through my dream state. At first, I think it’s Prim calling me, but the voice is deeper. “Katniss? Wake up.”

I finally open my eyes to a sea of red flannel. With a start, I realize the "mattress" my head is lying on is Peeta’s chest; the sheets I cling to are actually his shirt. I release him and sit up to face the TV where the credits are rolling.

“I’m so sorry, Peeta… I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.” On our movie, I mean. Or on him. Literally.

"Don't apologize," he says kindly. "You looked so peaceful, I hated to wake you."

It was actually the best sleep I've had in weeks, but I don't tell him that. I assume it was the new pajamas and Prim's blanket that made me feel so comfortable. I don't want to consider the alternative.

He turns off the TV, and the room is dark save the white lights from the Christmas tree. There's a peaceful silence, the hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the apartment.

"I wonder if it's still snowing?" I ask, turning to find him watching me. We're sitting so close on the couch that I can see every detail in his face. A small scar over his left eyebrow that I never noticed before. The curl of his eyelashes that look so much like Lily's. His full lips accentuated by the darker blond of his beard.

It's only when an easy smile comes to his face that I realize I'm still looking at his lips. "I think it is," he finally says. My confusion must be apparent, because he clarifies. "Snowing. I think it's still snowing."

I shake my head, trying to clear whatever spell has come over me. The warm room and the glow of the tree are an intoxicating combination. That must be it.

"I should get to bed," I murmur. "I'm pretty tired."

"Me, too," he agrees.

Neither of us moves for a moment, but I pull the blanket off my legs and stand up. A glance at the clock tells me it's after midnight. "Merry Christmas, Peeta."

"Merry Christmas, Katniss."

I head down the hall to my bedroom. When I take one last look toward the living room, I see he hasn't left the couch, the back of his head trained motionless on the twinkling Christmas tree.

*-*-*-*

Lily's too young to know Christmas from any other normal Tuesday, but Peeta's still determined to make it special for her.

He makes gingerbread pancakes for breakfast - another Mellark tradition, he tells me - and cuts them into tiny pieces for her to pick up from her high chair tray. He and I eat them with crisp sausage and real maple syrup. There's mulled cider warming on the stove, and he pours us mugs, even putting a little in a sippy cup for Lily.

When we're all stuffed, he announces it's time for presents. We move over to the floor near the tree and help Lily open her gifts. Peeta has showered her with toys, dolls, board books and clothes. Naturally, Lily's more interested in the wrapping paper than the contents of any of the boxes, though she does enjoy a blanket in every color of the rainbow that Peeta knitted for her. She lies down on the floor next to me, rolling it around her shoulders and sucking her thumb contentedly.

While she rests, Peeta opens my gifts for Lily. I bought her a couple of outfits the day I shopped with Annie, including a red plaid dress that reminded me so much of one I had as a child. He helps Lily opens the stuffed goat - complete with a pink ribbon around her neck - next. “Her name is Lady,” I tell him.

“What do we say, Lily?” Peeta prompts as he presses Lady to her nose with a kissing sound. She giggles and squeezes the goat’s neck.

“This is the last one,” I say, handing him a small flat box. “It’s … well. Just open it.”

He unwraps the gift, a small black flash drive. He studies it then looks to me for an explanation. “What...?”

“It’s her song,” I explain. “The one for bedtime? I recorded it on my computer. So you could play it for her, after I leave.” He's staring at me blankly, so I keep rambling. “I figured you could play it on your iPod or something. I know, it's kind of dumb...”

He stops me with a hand on mine. "No. It's not dumb. It's the most... incredible... thoughtful gift. I love it. And I know Lily will, too."

I nod, a flush coming to my cheeks. I can't place the feeling; it's not quite embarrassment and not quite shyness. I just know my hand is sweating under his, my chest warm at his stare.

"Well," I say, removing my hand from his grasp to tuck my hair behind my ear. "What next?"

He goes through the items left under the tree and hands me one. I survey the careful wrapping and see it’s to me from Peeta and Lily. I open it to find a beautiful emerald green scarf. “It’s beautiful." I wrap the soft yarn around my neck and meet Peeta’s eyes. "Did you make this?”

“Yeah. Sometimes it’s hard to sleep…” He shrugs.

I nod, fingering the large stitches. “It's my favorite color.”

"Really?" he asks, a pleased expression on his face. "I just thought it would look nice against your dark hair."

I'm not sure what else to say, so I reach under the tree and retrieve a package for him. "Well, I can't knit, so..."

He opens it and holds up the sweater, soft orange at the neck deepening to a deep red at the bottom. "Katniss, I love it." A grin spreads across his face as he studies it. "It's my favorite color, too."

I roll my eyes as he pulls the garment on. "You're just saying that because I did."

He shakes his head as he adjusts the sweater. It's a little snug over his pajama top, but he smoothes it out, running his hands over his chest. "No, I mean it!" he insists. "Orange is my favorite color. Sunset orange. Like the colors in my painting," he says as he indicates the frame behind me.

That was actually my inspiration for the selection, but I don't know how to explain that without sounding weird. Instead, I reach out to try to tame his curls, which have become wild with static from the sweater. They're as soft as Lily's, which confuses me. I would do this motion to her without thinking, but somehow I feel like I've crossed an invisible line. I pull my hand back, and he replaces it with his own, ruffling the hairs back into place with an unreadable expression on his face.

Lily crawls to the tree to play with some crumpled up paper and Peeta moves to fill her space beside me where I lean against the back of the couch. He hands me a small box which I turn over in my hands before opening.

"Peeta," I breathe. It's a round silver locket, clear glass with tiny charms inside it, on a thin silver chain. It has to be more expensive than any of the gifts I've gotten him. I hold it out to him. "I can't-"

"Please." He pushes it back, his grip on my forearm burning through my shirt. "I had already bought it for Prim. I thought... you might like to have it."

I want to reject this gift; it’s too extravagant, and I’d never be able to balance the scales. But blue eyes bore into mine, pleading with me to accept, and I can see how much it means to him.There's something about this man. He’s all warmth and kindness, and wears his heart on his sleeve, so sincere in every interaction.

Sometimes, I think if he asked me, I’d give him anything.

"Okay," I murmur.

“Then you’ll allow it?” he says with a small smile. I nod. “Thank you. Can I…?” He moves to take the necklace from the box.

I turn and pull my hair to the side, off my neck. Peeta carefully places the locket at my throat before securing the clasp at my nape. The feather-light touch of his fingers sends chills down my back.

The locket nestles into the layers of the scarf. I turn to face him again, picking it up and rubbing the smooth surface with my fingers. The items inside move around and a gem catches a flash of light. “Will you tell me about it?” I ask softly.

“Of course,” he replies. I hold the locket up and he moves closer to point out the objects inside.

“This one is Lily’s birthstone, a diamond,” he begins. At my panicked expression, he laughs lightly. “Not a real diamond, don’t worry. It’s just a crystal.”

I let out a relieved sigh. “Is that the Eiffel tower?” I ask, pointing to a tiny silver charm.

“Yes,” he replies. “That was to remember our trip, and how we met.” He points to a pink and white charm next. “That’s a cupcake. It was her favorite thing to have me bake,” he says with a chuckle.

“And the pearls?” I ask, pointing out the three tiny spheres floating around.

“Those represent our family,” he says quietly. “Us and Lily.” I look up to meet his eyes, sure we're thinking the same thing. Three pearls, now for a family of two.

He clears his throat and points to the last charm, a tiny gold bird, its wings outstretched in flight. "This one is a sparrow. It reminded me of Prim; her free spirit. I wanted that represented somehow."

I think of my sister, my Little Duck, setting off to see the world. Taking her destiny into her own hands, and starting a family all on her own. "It's perfect."

Lily crawls back to us, pushing a package she's found under the tree in front of her. "Thank you, Lily," I laugh, handing the gift to Peeta. "This is for you. It's nothing fancy," I warn as he starts to remove the paper. "And it might be the wrong stuff. I left the receipt in there, just in case-"

"Stop," he laughs. "I'm sure it's..." His words cut off as he takes out the portfolio, a simple black folder with handles and a zipper. “Is this… for my drawing?” he asks, studying it without meeting my eyes.

I’m sure it’s the wrong gift. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but he probably already has a portfolio. He went to art school, for crying out loud. What was I thinking? “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” His eyes shift to mine, a puzzled crease between them. “Why would you be sorry?” He unzips it, examining the drawing pad on one side, fingers trailing over the colored pencils on the other.

“You probably already have one. A better one. I just thought – it’s probably too messy to paint with Lily crawling around, so maybe you could keep this with you, and you could still do your beautiful drawings.”

“No, Katniss… this is perfect. I do have a bigger one that I used in school, but it’s packed away. It’s just not practical with a baby in the house. This will make it so much easier for me.” He sighs happily and shakes his head. “No one’s ever given me a gift like this before.”

“Really?” Now I’m confused. Not even his parents? I want to ask, but I don’t want to bring up more pain for him. It seems he can read into my question anyway.

“Really. My parents always thought art was a waste of time. I struggled with choosing it as a major after they passed away. I still wanted to make them proud.” He shrugs. “It was because of them that I got a minor in Business. Helped get me my job out here, at least.”

We’d talked briefly once about his job, a typical analyst role in an office downtown. He took a leave of absence after Prim’s death to care for Lily full-time. Luckily, the life insurance Prim insisted on getting has allowed it to be an indefinite leave. From the sound of things, he didn’t love the job to begin with; he had just jumped on an offer of a stable income when he learned Prim was expecting.

“Anyway, this is great. It will make things like this a little easier…” He crawls toward the tree, and I have to smile at how ridiculous he looks on his hands and knees under the Christmas tree wearing a rumpled sweater and pajama snowman bottoms. “Here you go,” he says, sliding back into his place beside me and handing me a large flat box.

“Peeta, you’ve given me too much already,” I protest, but he just shakes his head.

“It’s nothing, really. And this is the last gift.” He gives me a nervous smile. “I hope you like it.”

My interest piqued, I tear off the wrapping. I’m staring at a rendering of myself holding Lily, drawn in the same style as the one I’d admired my first night here. I’m smiling down at her, and she’s reaching a hand toward my face, gazing up at me happily.

I glance at Peeta, who watches me carefully, his lips parted slightly. His hopeful eyes shift between mine, trying to read my expression.

“When…” I look back to the drawing, my fingers running over the careful lines. His ability to bring light to the page, to capture the emotion in a moment with just a pencil, amazes me. “When did you do this?”

He shrugs sheepishly. “I told you. Sleep is a rare commodity.”

I shake my head. “No, I mean, how did you do this? Did you copy a picture, or-”

“No. It was from the day you sang her to sleep for the first time. It was such a beautiful moment…” He pauses, and I look up to meet his steady gaze. “I couldn’t get it out of my head.”

I nod and look back at the drawing, my cheeks burning. I’m not sure why his words affect me so.

“I just thought you might want something to take home with you, to remember your time here with Lily.”

I consider his words, but deep down I know it won’t just be Lily I’ll be thinking of when I look at this picture.

A whimper from across the room draws my attention, and I see Lily rubbing her head on a pillow, a sign I’ve learned means she’s ready for her nap. I look to Peeta, who is watching me with raised eyebrows. I’ve been doing the bulk of Lily’s care for the past few days, and I have a feeling he could use some alone time with his daughter today.

“Why don’t you take her in,” I suggest. “I was going to give Haymitch a phone call to wish him a Merry Christmas anyway.”

The relief on his face is clear as he gets up, squeezing my shoulder before grabbing Lily from under the tree and cuddling her to his chest. “Thank you again for everything, Katniss. For staying and spending Lily's first Christmas with us. It breaks my heart that Prim isn’t here to experience this, but having family with us has made it hurt a little less.”

I can't imagine what I would have done today without them, either. But I'm not good with words like he is, so I simply nod and give him a small smile. I watch as he retreats to his room, and head to my own shortly after to make my call.

As I pull the door closed, I see the green and gold box from Prim sitting on my bed. Peeta must have known that I'd want to open this in private. I sit down and study the wrapping, the edges carefully folded and taped.

Ignoring the fluttering in my stomach, I remove the paper and pull open the cover to the box. I smile at the simple silver frame with a pink heart in the phrase "I love Auntie" written at the bottom. Lily beams in a lilac colored dress, her curls held back by a white headband with a purple and white flower at the side of her head.

I pick up the frame and notice a folded piece of paper lying underneath it. My eyes well up as I unfold it to see my sister's familiar handwriting.

Dear Katniss,

Well, it's time I tell you the truth. My sudden marriage, moving away, and all of the secrets were because of this amazing creature: Lillianna Katniss Mellark. My daughter. Your niece.

I hope you can forgive me someday for lying to you. I didn't want to keep her a secret for so long, but I also didn't want to let you down. You had such big dreams for me, and quitting school to have a baby at 19 certainly wasn't one of them. I had to prove to myself that I could do this on my own and still make you proud. It’s been a struggle, but I’m finally starting to feel like I might be able to do that.

She'll be almost 9 months old by the time you get this. Every day I look at her and can't believe she's really mine. She's got the most beautiful smile, and when she's frustrated, I swear she has your scowl! She's the most incredible creature in the world, and I can't wait for you to meet her. I also want to finally introduce you to PJ. He's the best father I could have ever hoped for my daughter, and I just know you're going to love him.

I hope you can understand why I made the choices I did. While I made some mistakes, having Lily will never be one of them. I am so thankful that I have had this opportunity to be her mother. My one regret is having kept her from you for as long as I did. Hopefully, we can fix that soon.

With all my love,
Prim
xoxo

I read and re-read the note a half dozen times. Finally, I lie down on the bed and let the tears flow for my sister, for her daughter, and for all the things that might have been.

I send up a tiny prayer that Prim knows that I love her. That she was an amazing mother. And that there was never, ever anything to forgive.

Chapter Text

Some mornings, I lie in bed, floating in that fuzzy state between awake and dreaming, and I forget where I am and why. I forget that everything in my life has changed. That I’m in Denver. That Prim is gone. That I have a new family in Lily and Peeta.

In those hazy moments, my life feels like it's been turned upside down. Sometimes, when I’m confused about what’s real and what’s not, it helps to remind myself of the things I know for sure. I'm still Katniss Everdeen. My home is in Connecticut. Haymitch turns fifty next month. Peeta always double knots his shoelaces. Lily loves to be tickled. Prim is dead.

It all comes down to one cold, indisputable fact: Prim is gone. That doesn't change even in the light of day.

Christmas was hard. Being with Peeta and Lily made it a little easier, but everything about this season reminds me of Prim. Even tonight, New Year’s Eve, brings painful memories of her, the cheerful reminder she gave me every January ringing in my ear: “It’s a new year, Katniss! A fresh start! Anything is possible!”

But now, the only thing the first of January means to me is the first day of the first year that my sister will never see. She will never have another new year, another birthday, another Christmas.

My eyes drift over to the dresser where Prim's remains are sitting inside a small urn. Peeta has a similar vessel in his room. I came here to bring her home, but I quickly realized she really has two homes now; one with me in Connecticut and one here, with Lily and Peeta. When I leave, we'll each be able to keep a part of her with us forever.

I have an overwhelming urge to go home - to my real home, across the country - and hide under the covers. I suppose there’ll be time enough for that when I leave tomorrow. For now, there are two voices drifting down the hall reminding me that I should probably get up and face the day.

*-*-*-*

Unlike Christmas, Peeta really is keeping things simple today. We order pizza for dinner and enjoy it in the living room with bottles of root beer. I don’t want to risk even a mild hangover since I’ll be traveling most of tomorrow.

Lily plays at our feet as we flip around between cheesy made-for-TV movies before stumbling on “When Harry Met Sally.” It’s near the end, and I roll my eyes as Harry declares his love for Sally on New Year’s Eve before the two of them share a passionate kiss. “Prim always loved this movie. I just don’t get it,” I grumble.

Peeta chuckles. “What don’t you get? It's your basic romantic comedy; not much thinking involved. It’s just a story about love.”

I flop back against the couch. “I guess that’s what I don’t get. I’ve never really been in love.”

He puts his plate on the coffee table and leans back, mirroring my position. “Well I don’t think you have to be in love to understand it.”

My head swivels in his direction, my eyes narrowing. “That’s easy for you to say. You’ve been in love.”

He stands and starts to clean up the pizza box and paper plates, not meeting my stare. “I guess. But even when I was younger, I could still appreciate the idea of love.”

“I suppose.” There’s something about his response to this conversation that unsettles me, and I can’t help but think back to Glimmer and what she said about Prim and Peeta in the dressing room. A part of me wants to talk to him about it, to ask him what it all meant; but then again, it’s my last night here. I don’t want to spend it rehashing silly gossip.

I get up to help him with the mess but he dismisses me with a wave. “If you want to help, you can give Lily her bath and get her ready for bed. I’m sure she’d enjoy listening to someone who sings in tune one more time before I take over the job again.”

“Sure,” I say with a chuckle. I pick her up and she immediately goes for the locket around my neck. “Play a game of rummy when I get back?” Peeta and I have become real card sharks these past few weeks, the result of us spending so much time alone.

“Deal,” he agrees with an easy grin. As always, his face is relaxed and open, no sign of any hidden motives. I wonder why I’m putting any stock into what Glimmer said when Peeta has been nothing but honest with me since the day we met.

*-*-*-*

"Here is the place where I love you."

I finish singing Lily’s song, and even though she’s asleep, I decide to rock her for a little while longer. I study her, drinking in every detail; the way her lashes flutter as she dreams and her full lips breathe out into a tiny “O” with each breath. I reach out to stroke her cheek, her creamy skin so soft and warm beneath my fingertips.

I smile as I hear the tell-tale sounds of Peeta leaving the hallway. Over the last few weeks, I’ve learned he stands outside to listen most nights; he gives himself away with the heavy tread I hear as he “tiptoes” away from the door. He could never be a cat burglar, that’s for sure.

After settling Lily in her crib, I head out to join him again in the living room. He’s sitting on the couch watching the New Year’s Rockin’ Eve special with the sound turned off. When he sees me he turns the set off and reaches for the deck of cards.

“You don’t have to turn it off,” I insist.

“Nah, I wasn’t really watching. Just something to keep me company.” He finishes shuffling and starts to deal the cards.

It’s a casual statement, but his words make me sad. I’ve gotten to know Peeta pretty well these last few weeks, and I’ve noticed he’s the type of person that likes having other people around. While I’m content to sit quietly with a book or a movie for hours on end without saying a word, Peeta enjoys interacting with other people. He initiates most of our evening card games, and tends to be the one to keep the conversation flowing when I’ve run out of things to say.

I arrange my cards in my hand and look up to find him studying his own cards carefully. “So,” he says, interrupting my thoughts. “You must be looking forward to going home."

“I am," I say honestly. "I miss my routine. I even miss my coworkers," I add with a shrug. "Plus, I think it’ll be easier to deal with everything once I can get back to normal again.”

"Mmm." Peeta nods and draws a card from the deck with a sad smile. I suddenly feel like such a fool. Here I am, looking forward to resuming my 'normal' life... and what does he have when I leave? Everything he knew about his life a month ago is gone.

"Peeta, I'm sorry, I didn't-"

He looks up from his cards, his eyes understanding. "No, Katniss, stop. I know exactly what you mean. It can't be easy staying in someone else's home all this time, in a strange town. You're ready for the little things, like the smell of your own laundry soap. Sleeping in your own bed again. Those comforts of home. I get it."

"How do you do that?" I murmur.

"Do what?" he asks, his brows furrowed in a puzzled expression. He places a run of spades down on the coffee table.

I take my turn, though my head isn't really in the game. "How do you put everything I'm feeling into words when even I can't?"

He shakes his head dismissively. "I just pay attention."I cock my head, ready to argue, when he looks up with a smirk. "Maybe you should try it sometime." He puts his remaining cards down triumphantly. "Rummy."

I roll my eyes at his boyish excitement and gather the cards to shuffle. Neither of us bothers to keep track of the points between rounds; it’s just something to do while we share our thoughts on the day.

“So… what are your plans when I leave?” I ask as I deal out the last cards and set up the rest on the table. “Are you going to go back to work, or-”

“No,” he answers with no hesitation. “I’m not going to leave her now. I can’t.”

I understand his desire to stay home with Lily, but being thrown into full-time single parenthood will be an incredible strain. I think of my mother, how she broke after my father’s death and couldn’t spare an ounce of energy for her children. I know Peeta isn’t her, but still. I’m worried. He has no other family here to lean on.

“I get that. But do you think... Will you be okay all alone? You need to take care of yourself, too. Take a break sometimes.”

He shrugs, studying his cards before finally drawing one from the deck. “I have Mags. And Finnick and Annie. I’ll be fine.” Looking up, he must see the concern on my face because his serious expression melts into a soft smile. “Hey. We’ll be okay, Katniss. Honest. You don’t have to worry about us. Alright?”

I nod, but his words aren’t enough to ease the knot in my stomach.

*-*-*-*

My flight is early the next morning, so we head to bed at a reasonable hour; we don’t even make it until midnight. Peeta’s the first to decide to turn in. He wishes me an early happy new year with a kiss to my cheek and a hug that wraps me in warmth.

I head to bed only to toss and turn for hours. My mind is racing with things I have to remember to do, and anxiety about the trip in general. At the back of it all are thoughts of Peeta and Lily, concerns for them once I leave, but I push those away. Peeta’s right; he’s a grown man. They’ll be fine.

Finally around 2, I get up and turn on the light. Might as well read if I’m going to lie here wide awake. I pull out a familiar novel, one I’ve read a few times already that doesn’t require much focus.

A few pages in, a whimpering sound pulls me from the story. It’s coming from across the hall, and I recognize immediately that it's not Lily, but Peeta in distress. I remember the incident a few weeks ago, when I interrupted him in the middle of some sort of night terror. How he shut me out afterward. I try to give him his privacy, mind my own business and forget I heard anything, but I can’t ignore it. The mournful sounds he makes break my heart.

After a moment, the whimpering turns to louder moaning, then shouting. “No… No! Please, no!”

I'm afraid he'll wake Lily, so I go to his room to try to help somehow. Flicking on the small lamp beside the bed, I see Peeta thrashing under the covers, his head turning back and forth on his pillow. I shake his shoulders gently, trying to wake him without scaring him further.

“No! Don’t take her, please!”

“Peeta!” I shake him a bit harder, finally pulling him from the dream. He sits up and throws the blanket off, legs dangling from the bed as he looks at me. His eyes are filled with a blend of confusion and terror. He nearly knocks me over as he rushes to the crib, hands gripping the side rail as he struggles to catch his breath.

"I had a dream... They... She..." He shakes his head and reaches out for Lily, his palm resting on her belly, rising and falling with each tiny breath. "I'm sorry," he whispers, though I'm not sure if he's speaking to me or Lily.

Unlike last time, I go to him, standing beside him at the crib, watching Lily sleep. He's shaking, his breath slowing but ragged, his curls matted and wild. "Peeta..." I whisper. I don't quite know what to ask. He looks at me, his eyes brimming with tears. I put a hand on his back to find his t-shirt cool and damp. "Why don't we...?" I quirk my head toward the hallway, and he nods before following me out toward the living room.

“I’m going to make some tea,” I offer. “Why don’t you sit down and rest?” He drops heavily on the couch, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

When I return with his tea, he's still staring blankly at the coffee table. I press the warm mug into his hands and he clutches it silently. I sit beside him, letting him gather his thoughts. I don't always know what to say, but I am a good listener.

"When I was sixteen, they found a tumor in my leg."

"Oh, Peeta-"

"It was benign," he assures me. "But I had to have surgery to remove it. I was still in the hospital recovering when the bakery caught fire." I put a hand on his knee and wait for him to continue. "They all died instantly. Smoke inhalation. My aunt and uncle came to tell me the next morning. I moved in with them until I graduated." He pauses a moment, turning the mug in his hands but not really drinking. "It was in those first few months that the nightmares started."

I nod. "I got them, too, after my dad died," I tell him. Sometimes it helps just to know you're not alone.

He turns to look at me as though just realizing I'm there. Setting the mug down on the table, he puts a hand on top of mine on his knee. "They got better, as the years passed. Time doesn't exactly heal the wounds, but it does... numb the pain."

I nod, thinking of the sharp pain I felt at the loss of my father. It never went away, but it has gradually faded to a dull ache.

"The day Prim died..." His voice is shaky; I pull his hand up between my own and rub it gently. He stares at our hands, gathering the courage to continue. "She had planned to go shopping all week. It was just after Thanksgiving and there were lots of sales. But I had already made arrangements to work for Mags that day, hoping to earn some extra money for the holidays."

He looks up, his blue eyes full of sorrow. I hold his gaze as though I'm holding him up physically, letting him get this out. His voice is husky, just above a whisper. "She was a little annoyed, but said it was okay. She'd just take Lily with her."

"Oh..." I breathe. I feel a pang in my chest, my own eyes watering at the realization that Lily might have been there, in the car with Prim when the accident occurred. The thoughts of what might have been are too much to bear. "But-"

"I felt bad, though. So at the last minute I cancelled with Mags to stay home with Lily. If I hadn't..." He shakes his head, the tears starting to fall. “For so many years, I was all alone and then – I had Prim and Lily. A family again. When I think how close I came to losing everything... I just... I can’t… I can't lose her, too...”

Peeta succumbs to his grief, his shoulders shaking with each breath. I pull him to me, desperate to comfort him, cradling his head on my chest and running my fingers through his soft curls. My heart is breaking for him. He's been so strong, supporting me through my own tears several times, but this is the first time he's really let himself go in front of me.

“It’s okay, Peeta,” I murmur. Sobs wrack his body, but I keep talking quietly, trying to soothe him. “It’s okay. Lily’s here. She’s safe. And I’m right here, too. You aren’t alone.”

I continue holding him, running my fingers over his scalp, his shoulders, his back; grounding him with my touch. Finally, his breathing slows, his gasps and sobs fading. He takes one last shuddering breath and groans, covering his eyes with his hands as he pulls away. "I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have… I didn't mean to do that."

"Hey," I reply. "Don't." I gently tug on his wrists, moving his hands down from his face to reveal blue eyes rimmed in red. "We're family now, Peeta. You don't have to apologize for having a bad day. We're in this together. "

"Together?" he asks quietly.

"Yes," I say firmly. "You're stuck with me. I may not be right around the corner, but I'm only a phone call away. If you ever need to talk, or just need someone to listen, I'll be there. Okay?"

The corners of his mouth curve up slightly and he gives me a small nod. “Okay,” he answers.

“Do you want to go back to bed?” I ask.

He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair, trying to tame the mess. “Not right now. The dream is still too vivid…”

I nod. “How about some TV then?” I pull Prim’s quilt off the back of the couch and drape it across our laps. He leans back into the couch with a sigh and gives me a small smile. Grabbing the remote, I turn the television on, flipping through the channels until I find an old episode of I Love Lucy. We watch together with the volume turned down low.

A few moments later, Peeta reaches out and takes my hand in his. He squeezes gently, and I turn to find him gazing at me with tired eyes, his head reclined against the cushions. “Thank you,” he mouths silently. I give him a smile in return and we both turn back to the program. We watch the rest of the episode with our hands resting on top of the quilt, fingers lightly intertwined.

*-*-*-*

I say my goodbyes to Lily in the morning. I cradle her in my lap, humming Prim's song as we play with her toys. When the time comes, I kiss the top of her head and tell her I’ll see her soon, careful not to do something stupid like cry and get her upset. I make it down to my room before the tears fall.

Peeta enlists Mags to babysit while he brings me to the airport. I offered to take a cab, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He parks in the short term lot and we make the trek into the terminal together in silence. We go as far as my gate, where we stop to check that my flight is still scheduled to leave on time.

“Well,” he says, glancing up at the board. “Looks like you’re all set. No delays.”

“Mmm,” I reply, following his eyes to the grid of cities and times. We review the list longer than necessary, both putting off the inevitable.

Peeta is the first to break the silence. He turns to face me, drawing my attention from the board. “Listen, Katniss…” He studies me for a minute, his eyes scanning back and forth across my face as I wait for him to say something. With no further explanation, he opens his arms to me. I fall into them, my arms wrapping around his waist. He folds himself around me, his hand cupping the back of my head as I rest it on his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he says, leaning his cheek against my head. “Thank you so much. For last night. For staying with us this month. For taking the extra time to get to know Lily. You’ll never know what that meant to me.” He squeezes me just a little tighter. “We’ll miss you,” he says, his voice dropping.

As we embrace, I’m keenly aware of just how much I’m going to miss Peeta’s hugs. How much I’m going to miss Peeta. Tears spring to my eyes, and my throat catches as I reply. “I’ll miss you both, too.”

He releases me a bit, his hands moving to my waist as he judges my watery eyes. “Hey, now.” He leans in close to my ear, his breath tickling the hairs on my neck. “Remember, we’re family now, Katniss,” he says, reminding me of my words last night. “So it’s all right to call me anytime you feel like it.” He leans back again and gives me a comforting smile.

I laugh and nod, releasing him to wipe away my tears. "Must have been a pretty smart person to come up with that advice," I joke.

"I don't know," he teases. "She couldn't win a hand at rummy for anything."

"Hey," I protest, giving him a gentle shove. "Maybe she let you win. Did you ever think of that?"

"Mmm, maybe." He chuckles and shakes his head, the smile slowly fading as he studies me again. "I mean it, Katniss. You can reach out to me anytime you need a friend, too. Call or text." I nod, wiping at my nose with a tissue. “Maybe we can video chat sometimes. So you can see Lily.”

“I’d like that,” I reply with a grin.

“Okay,” he says with relieved smile. My eyes follow as he looks to the board to check the time again. "So."

"So," I affirm.

"Haymitch is going to meet you at the airport, right?"

"Right." We went over this at the apartment and again in the car, but if it helps him feel better, we can do it once more.

"And you've got your carry-on? Your cell phone? Your ticket?"

"Check, check, check." I pull the paper from my pocket and wave it in front of me. "Still right here."

He shrugs sheepishly. "I guess I've asked you that a few times, haven't I?"

"It's fine," I reassure him. "I appreciate the concern." I adjust my bag on my shoulder and glance back at the gate. "Well..."

"Okay." He pulls me into one last embrace. "Have a safe trip, Katniss." With a small kiss to my temple, we separate for good.

"You take care of yourself, Peeta. And give Lily a kiss for me," I reply, my voice breaking.

"I will." He puts his hands in his pockets. "You'll let me know when you get home safely?"

“I will,” I repeat, grabbing the handle of my suitcase.

“I’ll see you soon, Katniss,” he says. I know it isn’t really true, but somehow it’s more comforting than a standard ‘goodbye’.

“I’ll see you soon,” I reply. With one last nod, I turn away from him and head to the security check-in. Before turning the corner, I look back to find him watching me, hands still in his pockets. When he catches me looking, he raises one arm up in a wave. I give a small wave back, then round the corner out of view.

*-*-*-*

“Welcome back, sweetheart. It’s good to have you home.”

Haymitch gives me a quick hug then grabs the handle to my suitcase and begins to wheel it toward the exit. I follow him through the parking lot to his truck where he helps me load my luggage into the back.

“Oh, and you better let the boy know you’re home. He texted me twenty minutes ago checking in.”

I study him through squinted eyes. “Peeta has your phone number?”

“Yeah, I gave it to him before I left Denver. Just in case.” He shrugs. “Anyway, I told him the flight was a little late, but you’d be in touch when you got your bearings.” He slides into the driver’s seat and waits for me to get in and buckled before easing into traffic. “I also told him to stop texting me. I can’t see the tiny words on that screen without my damn reading glasses.”

His familiar grumbling makes me smile. I pull my phone out of my bag and send Peeta a quick text.

Me (sent 5:04 PM): Landed safely. Thanks again for your hospitality. :)

My phone vibrates almost instantly after sending the note.

Peeta (sent 5:05 PM): Thank goodness. Get some rest, Katniss. We’ll talk soon!

Haymitch is quiet as he drives toward home, a welcome silence after a day of noise and bustle. I stare out the window at familiar scenery, oddly feeling a little like a stranger in my own home after so many weeks away.

My fingers reach up to rub at the smooth surface of the locket around my neck in an attempt to help ground me. I can feel a scowl on my face as I try to figure out what’s wrong with me. I may be back home in Connecticut, but somehow my mind still feels thousands of miles away.

Chapter Text

The sound of the alarm invades my sleepy mind. I hit snooze and bury my head beneath the pillows with a grumpy groan. After tossing and turning all night, I finally fell asleep a couple of hours ago, so the wakeup call is especially unwelcome.

It should be another lovely Monday.

I've been back in the office for three weeks now, but mornings aren’t getting any easier. I thought being able to slip into my old routine would make things better, but it really hasn’t. Maybe I stayed in Denver for too long. Something about my time there has shifted the earth around me and I can’t seem to get back on solid ground.

The alarm goes off again and I throw the covers back with a sigh. Hiding in bed isn’t going to pay my bills. I might as well get up and face the day.

*-*-*-*

“Hey.” Johanna leans against the doorframe, both hands gripping her ‘Bitches Get Stuff Done’ coffee mug. She watches as I move around the tiny kitchenette, grabbing a fork and napkin while I wait for my frozen dinner to heat in the staff microwave. “Feel like having lunch outside today?”

“Sure,” I shrug. Most people wouldn’t consider eating their lunch outdoors in the midst of a New England winter, but it’s a balmy 40 degrees this afternoon. Besides, I always feel better in the crisp outside air than I do in the stale homogenized office. A love for the outdoors is something Johanna and I have in common, and we haven’t had a chance to enjoy it since I’ve been back.

When my lunch is ready, I gather my winter gear and grab a blanket I keep in my desk for just this type of event, then head to the gazebo behind the office. Johanna beat me there and is already sipping bites of soup. She’s wearing a leopard print ear warmer around her dark spiky hair and a brown scarf flecked in gold wrapped around her neck.

“Nice scarf,” I comment as I spread the blanket down on the wooden bench. I sit down and pull the excess up into my lap before peeling back the cellophane from the plastic tray.

“Thanks,” she says, slurping a noodle between her lips. “A present from Blight,” she explains, referring to her neighbor, Kevin Blight. The two became friends after a postal mix-up led to the revelation that they were both from the Pacific Midwest.

“Where’d you get yours?” she asks, jabbing the back of her spoon toward my neck. “Looks homemade.”

I finger the soft yarn, the memory of the gift bringing a small smile to my face. “Yeah, it is. Peeta made it.”

“The Baby Daddy?” she asks, taking another large bite of soup. I scowl as a chunk of carrot lands on her coat. She flicks it off, sending it sailing toward a nearby tree.

“You know I hate when you call him that.”

“Fine,” she replies drily. “Was that a gift from the father of your sister’s secret love child?”

My scowl only deepens, but I force myself to turn my glare toward my lunch, a bland medley of rice and vegetables. “Thanks for inviting me to lunch, Johanna. I’m so glad I braved the elements just to be tortured by you.”

“Oh, lighten up, brainless,” she says, rifling through her lunch bag and pulling out a banana.

A stiff breeze blows my napkin from the table. I get up to retrieve it and hear a ping from my phone. “There’s lover boy now,” Johanna comments as she glances at the text notification. I sit back down and wrap the blanket back onto my lap before picking up my phone.

Peeta (sent 12:17 PM): Just wanted to say hello. Hope you’re having a lovely Monday so far. :)

A small smile comes to my lips before I can stop it. “What’d he want?” Johanna asks through a mouthful of banana.

I type out a hasty reply and lock the screen. “He was just checking in. Wishing me a nice Monday,” I explain.

“Huh.” She swallows her bite and adjusts the peel to expose more of the banana. “Does he do that a lot?”

“Do what?” I ask.

“Check in. Text you. I seem to remember you getting chatting with him last week, too.”

“Yeah. He keeps me updated on what’s going on with Lily.” Peeta messaged me a few days ago to tell me that Lily stood unassisted for the first time. He sent a picture of her wobbling in the living room with a grin on her face. We talked on the phone that night and you could practically hear the pride in his voice. “We’re friends,” I add quietly, not quite sure why this conversation is making me uncomfortable.

“Friends?” She eyes me curiously, her head leaning to one side. “You’re not the slightest bit pissed at him?”

“For what?” I ask, genuinely confused.

“For not picking up a phone and calling you. Not telling you about Lily sooner.”

I consider her question seriously as I stir my lunch. Anger is an emotion Johanna and I have always been able to bond over. Since I first met her, nearly seven years ago, our relationship has been mainly a series of grumbling sessions, venting over friends or coworkers that annoyed us in some way. She’s a good friend and an amazing woman – loyal, intelligent, and willing to stick her neck out for anyone she cares for.

But we also get along so well because neither of us push the other to get into the deep stuff. I’m not sure I want to – or even can – explain my relationship with Peeta to her right now.

For the moment, I focus on her question: am I angry with him? “No,” I answer, shaking my head. “It wasn’t his place to reach out to me if Prim wasn’t ready to. She needed to do it on her own. And she was going to, before…” I can’t finish the sentence. “Anyway, it’s not his fault. And Lily needs us now. It doesn’t do her any good for me to hold onto some kind of grudge.”

She nods, not quite convinced. “If you say so. All I’m saying is: if it was me, I don’t think I’d be quite so chummy with him.”

I shouldn’t care, but it bothers me that she thinks poorly of him. “He’s an amazing father, and really sweet, and funny, and… he’s just a great guy.” I explain. As soon as the words leave my mouth, I feel I’ve said too much.

My phone pings again. Johanna raises an eyebrow but says nothing, turning back to her thermos with a smirk.

Peeta (sent 12:21 PM): I was wondering if you were available to skype tonight? Lily misses you.

A happy flush comes to my cheeks when I think of seeing Peeta and Lily for the first time since I came home. I type back a response. “I’d love to. I’ll text you when I leave work.” I put my phone face down on the table and stab at a bite of my lunch, ignoring Johanna’s watchful stare.

*-*-*-*

Peeta and I agree to skype around 8:30 PM, my time. He offers to make the call as soon as he’s done with Lily’s dinner and bath routines.

I eat dinner, do the dishes, fold laundry, and get my things ready for work the next day. Normally, by this time of night I’d be settling into bed with a book or a television show, but my mind won’t let me focus on either one. For some reason, I’m ridiculously anxious that I’ll get distracted and miss Peeta’s call. I check the time half a dozen times, obsessively making sure that my phone is still charged and functioning.

At 8:03, I decide I may as well get ready for bed while I wait. I change into my sweats and set myself up in bed, comforter in my lap, pillows at my back, and my phone on the end table beside me. I try again to read, my eyes scanning over the page repeatedly without actually absorbing any of the content.

When the Skype alert finally comes, I’m a bundle of nerves. My stomach lurches in anticipation as I accept the call and the screen finally fills with two sets of familiar blond curls.

“Hi,” Peeta says with an easy grin. His eyes are warm with a familiar crinkle at their corners. His beard looks the same as when I left, but the rest of his hair has grown shaggier, the waves just a little more unruly than usual.

“Hi,” I breathe, the tension seeping from my shoulders.

Lily is sitting in Peeta’s lap sucking her thumb, but her attention is drawn to the screen when she hears my voice. “Ba-dah!” she cries happily, trying to reach for my image.

“Yes, it’s Auntie Katniss,” Peeta says with a chuckle. “Say hello, Lily.”

“Dah-do,” Lily babbles.

I laugh, my hand flying to my mouth instinctively. “Hi Lily. You look so big!” It hasn’t even been a month since I left them, but even so, I can see just how much she’s grown.

“She is getting big. No need for free weights; I just do Lily-lifts.” Peeta lifts her up over his head a few times, eliciting a fit of giggles from Lily. He adjusts her on his lap and sits back against the couch.

As he adjusts more fully into the frame, I recognize the orange and red hues on his torso. “Nice sweater,” I say innocently. “Is that new?”

He looks down at the garment before flashing me a crooked grin. “Yeah, it was a Christmas gift from a good friend.” He rubs at a spot on his chest. “Fits a lot better without the pajamas underneath.”

I laugh at the memory of Peeta pulling the sweater on over his clothes, his hair sticking up in every direction. “I think you’re right.” As Lily wriggles in his lap, I realize she’s wearing one of the sleepers I got her for Christmas as well. “You guys didn’t have to wear those clothes just for my sake, you know,” I say quietly.

“Hey, now!” Peeta exclaims, an exaggerated look of indignation on his face. “We happen to love these clothes, don’t we Lily?”

“Gah!” she exclaims with a smile when Peeta tickles her belly.

“And okay, maybe,” he adds, more seriously, “we were a little bit excited about seeing you again, so we wanted to look nice.” He shrugs, the corners of his lips creeping up into a small smile. It’s hard to tell from the lighting, but I’d almost swear he is blushing.

“Well, you do. So, thank you,” I reply, an uneasy flutter moving through my belly. I’m clearly embarrassing him, so I decide to change the subject. “So, ah… has Lily been standing up a lot?”

He beams with pride, the same expression I pictured when talking to him last week. “She has! She’s still holding on to the table or the couch most of the time, but she’s starting to let go more often.” He shakes his head. “I can’t believe it; she’s growing so fast. I think she even said ‘Dada’ the other day. But it could just be wishful thinking.” He’s trying to temper his excitement, but his voice betrays his joy.

“Wow. That’s great, Peeta.”

Lily must decide she’s done sitting still, and squirms slowly from Peeta’s grasp and out of my view. “There she goes now,” he laughs, picking up his phone and turning it so I can see her standing at the coffee table, looking up with a wide grin. She turns away and begins creeping down the coffee table until she reaches the end, where she drops to the floor and crawls over to her toys.

Peeta turns the phone back to himself, his face filling the large frame better. I can see the familiar dark circles under his blue eyes, even as they glow with happiness and pride. I wonder if he’s been sleeping. If, like me, he still finds nighttime to be the hardest part of the day.

“Sorry about that,” he offers. “I guess she’s not in the mood for socializing.”

“A girl after my own heart,” I joke.

Peeta laughs lightly before his eyes screw up in concern. “You’re probably getting tired… Did you want to hang up so you can get to bed? I know you were looking forward to seeing Lily, but she doesn’t seem to want to cooperate.”

His voice is even, but there’s a hopeful edge to it that I recognize. He’s offering to let me go, but he doesn’t want me to hang up. If I’m being honest with myself, I don’t want to hang up either.

“No, no. I’m fine. I was looking forward to this. I… I wanted to see Lily, but I also just wanted to catch up. With you.”

A shy smile creeps to his lips. “Yeah? I’m not bothering you? You’re sure?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I repeat with a nod. “So. Tell me, how have you been? How was your weekend?”

Peeta fills me in on their days since we spoke last week. Somehow he even makes stories about mundane tasks sound interesting. He tells me about grocery shopping with Lily, the older women that mob them at the checkout, and a funny man they met at the post office. In exchange, I tell him a little about Johanna, my fight over a parking space at the library, and the interesting new instructor at my yoga class.

Before I know it, an hour has gone by. Lily, who's moved in and out of Peeta's lap several times, is starting to fuss.

"Looks like someone's ready for bed," I note.

He glances toward the kitchen and shakes his head. "Wow, I didn't realize it had gotten so late."

"Time flies when you're having fun," I joke, immediately cringing at the silly cliché. But Peeta only smiles and nods.

"It does." He pauses and kisses the top of Lily's head before looking back to the screen again. "I had a good time talking with you tonight, Katniss. I have to admit, I miss our nightly card games."

I laugh lightly. "Yeah, me too."

"Would you... maybe... like to make this a regular thing? I think it would be good. You know. For Lily."

“Sure. For Lily,” I agree with a nod. We agree to have another video chat the following Monday, since it seems fitting to start a new routine at the beginning of the week.

After we say our goodnights and disconnect, I head into the bathroom to brush my teeth. I turn on the light, my reflection catching my eye as I dampen my toothbrush. My face is aglow with a happy flush, and for some reason, I can’t stop grinning.

I shake the smile from my lips and go about the practical steps of getting ready for bed. As I climb into the warm covers, I think about how good it felt to see Peeta and Lily. It makes sense; staying with them, getting to know them, it’s only natural that I’ve become attached. It will be nice to be able to see them more often.

Maybe Mondays aren’t so bad after all.

*-*-*-*

We keep our plans the next week, and the week after that. Soon, it’s a routine as normal as the work week starting over again. I find having these penciled into my calendar makes the days more bearable. I still have nightmares several times a week, but somehow it’s easier to get out of bed in the morning.

It’s a cold winter. Major storms slam New England well into February and March. While I love the outdoors, I’m not a big fan of snow. As far as I’m concerned, all it does is trap me indoors and hide nearly every trace of my beloved greenery. The days are long, the sun seems scarce, and sometimes it feels like spring will never come again.

And yet, I have glimpses of hope. Peeta sends me a Valentine from Lily, a homemade card with her photo printed on the front and a picture of a heart inside, made from her feet stamped in paint. It gives me a genuine smile for the first time in days. A few weeks later, I get a box in the mail and find he’s sent me cheese buns carefully wrapped in wax paper. I call to thank him, and he claims – unconvincingly – that he had simply made too many, and didn’t want them to go to waste.

Even outside our Monday video chats, we continue to text and talk on the phone throughout the week. After a conversation about spending snow days as children with hot chocolate and board games, Peeta challenges me to a game of Words with Friends. He’s got a better vocabulary than I do, but I’ve got a competitive streak that makes me a worthy opponent. We trade wins back and forth as the cold weeks go on.

But winter slowly fades, the snow and ice melting to reveal the grass below. One Sunday in late March, when hints of green are finally becoming visible on the trees, I head to a local reservoir. I take the walking path around the water, eagerly soaking in the first signs of life with all of my senses.

I’m about a mile from my car when my cell phone rings. I answer with a happy greeting when I realize it’s Peeta.

“Hi, Katniss,” he replies. “How are you? Is this an okay time to talk?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just out taking a walk,” I explain. “How are you and Lily? Is everything okay there?” Even though we talk often, I’m still a little nervous when I get unexpected phone calls.

“No, we’re fine. She’s great. I was just…” He pauses and starts again. “There was something I wanted to ask you. A bit of a favor.”

“Okay…” I head off the path to a bench that faces the water and take a seat. There’s a nervous edge to his voice, and I’m more than curious about what kind of favor I could do for him. “What is it?”

“Well, you know Lily is turning one soon...” He pauses, waiting for my response.

“Yes, April 8th.” Her birthday is exactly one month before my own, only a couple weeks away.

“I was just thinking,” he continues. “It might be nice to celebrate her birthday… with family.”

“Oh, Peeta.” My heart clenches. As much as I would love to see Lily on her birthday, I used the bulk of my vacation time in the month I spent with them in Colorado. I can’t possibly take more time off to make the visit worthwhile. “I wish I could, but I can’t leave work again…”

“No, no!” he quickly interrupts. “I’m sorry! No, I was wondering how you felt about us coming to see you. In Connecticut.”

“Oh.” I’m taken aback; for some reason, the thought of them coming here never occurred to me.

My silence must confuse him, because he begins to backpedal. "Of course, it was just an idea. Probably a bad one. We don’t have to -"

“No! It's not that," I reassure him. "I was just surprised, that's all. I mean, are you… you’re okay, flying out here with Lily?”

“Yeah, she’s been doing really well these past few months. I’ve already checked and there are a few direct flights that shouldn’t be too bad. And there's a hotel near you that has kitchenettes and refrigerators, and I can bring her pack-and-play, so I should be able to keep her schedule pretty much intact.”

“Sounds like you’ve done your research,” I say with a chuckle.

“I have,” he replies quietly. “But I would completely understand if the timing is bad.”

“No,” I insist. “The timing is perfect. I'd love to see you both. But I do have one condition.”

“Condition?” he asks carefully.

“You aren't staying in a hotel. You're going to stay here. With me.”

“Katniss,” he says. “I know you have work and other responsibilities. I wouldn't dream of imposing on you.”

“Don't be ridiculous, Peeta. I stayed with you in Colorado, didn't I? I've got plenty of room, and I want as much time with Lily as I can get. You said it yourself: we’re family. Right?”

“Right,” he agrees softly.

I nod, even though I know he can’t see me. “So it's settled. You’re staying with me. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says with a soft chuckle before letting out a sigh and turning serious again. “Thank you, Katniss. You have no idea how much this means to me. Thinking of this day, without Prim… I just want Lily to be surrounded by love.”

“Me, too,” I simply agree, my eyes welling up.

After a beat, he clears his throat. “Well. I think I’m going to go check out the flights now, see what I can find. We’re still on for our Skype call tomorrow?”

“Of course,” I answer. “Tomorrow’s Monday, right?”

We say our goodbyes and I disconnect the call. I stare out at the water for a while, my head full of possibilities. There’s a lot of work to do, but the idea of Peeta and Lily visiting has filled me with such a sense of excitement.

Finally, I compose myself, taking the setting sun as a sign to finish my walk and head home. As I move to stand, a flash of yellow catches my eye. A dandelion. It’s just one, but there’s no denying it now: spring is coming. I can barely wipe the grin from my face.

Somehow, I make it back to the path and walk the rest of the way back to my car, my feet hardly touching the ground.

Chapter Text

The phrase “spring cleaning” has taken on a whole new meaning this year.

Since Peeta’s phone call, I’ve been preparing the house for their visit. I’ve cleared away clutter and scrubbed everything from top to bottom. Twice.

I have to admit I love this old house, a two story Victorian with an open porch in front and a small yard in the back. It’s been in my family for generations; my grandparents bought it when they first got married, and my father inherited it from them when they passed away. If there was any consolation when my mother left, it was that Prim and I never had to worry about finding a place to live. By then, the mortgage was paid off, and I just needed to worry about insurance, taxes and all of the other bills a teenager should know nothing about.

The rooms throughout the house are small, but cozy. There's a decent sized kitchen that has older - but reliable - appliances, and a fireplace in the living room that hasn't been lit since my father passed away. The second floor houses the single bathroom and three decent sized bedrooms. My task today is to ready one of them for Peeta and Lily.

Of course, it doesn't help that two of the bedrooms are currently inhabited by ghosts.

Prim’s yellow room is still furnished exactly the way it was when she left for school. When she disappeared, I left it intact, waiting for the day that she'd see reason and come back again. And now... I just haven't had the heart to clean it out since she passed away. I debate for only a moment, knowing I'm not ready for anyone else to sleep in there yet, before walking past the closed door.

The largest, sunniest room was my parents' bedroom. It was a happy place when I was a child, holding the large bed I'd climb into when I had bad dreams, sandwiched between two parents that loved me fiercely. But after my father's death, it became my mother's tomb; the bed more like a coffin where she spent her bad days, the curtains drawn tight.

Prim and I cleaned the room out a few years ago, donating all but the most personal items to Goodwill. We left the bed and dresser set up and called it a guest room, but we never actually had a guest that needed to use it. The door stayed closed most of the time, the furniture just gathering dust.

Until now.

Cleaning supplies in hand, I push open the door for the first time in months. The familiar peach walls and sheer curtains bring a warmth to the room despite the stark emptiness in every corner. It's been years, but I swear I can still smell them. My mother's floral perfume. My father's musky soap.

I head over to the small window seat, nestled in a dormer. The room floods with light as I throw open the curtains. It's a warm spring day, and I decide to take advantage of the fresh air to help clean out any trace of the past. The breeze floats in as soon as I open the window, and though it’s a little cool, it’s refreshing.

Before getting started, I set up my iPod on the dresser and hit shuffle. A bittersweet smile comes to my face when I recognize the song, one my father and I would sing together when I was small. Instead of letting myself be sad, I remember the joy of dancing around the kitchen with him and sing softly to myself as pick up the dust rag and get to work.

Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
And I say it's all right
Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
And I say it's all right

*-*-*-*

Bouncing on my heels, I peer down the hall again, waiting anxiously for them to make their way toward baggage claim. Their flight arrived about fifteen minutes ago, but it feels like it’s taking hours for them to unload the plane.

I look down to my phone to distract myself, checking work emails, the weather, anything to take my focus off the wait. Finally a group of passengers enters the area. I shove my phone into my pocket and smooth my shirt down. Scanning the crowd for their faces, I shake my head at myself. Why am I so nervous? It’s just Peeta and Lily.

Finally, I recognize a pair of blond curls moving toward me. He’s leaning down toward Lily, who has tears in her eyes but seems to be calm at the moment. After a moment he looks up and scans the crowd, seeking me out. Eventually, his eyes land on mine and his face lights up in a mirror of my own. I see him bend over to tell Lily something, then lift her hand up in a wave toward me. I wave back, a warm flutter in my chest at the sight of them.

“Katniss.” He balances Lily and pulls me into an embrace as soon as they reach me. I hug him tightly, the familiar scent of spice warm on my nose. What is not as familiar is –

“You shaved the beard!” I blurt, his bare cheek brushing the top of my head as we separate.

He chuckles and rubs at his chin with a rueful grin on his lips. “Yeah, I…” He shrugs and I mentally kick myself for greeting him so awkwardly.

“I’m sorry! It was just a surprise. You look good!” I lean in and hug him again, trying to diffuse the situation. “It’s really good to see you,” I add quietly.

He gives me another squeeze and kisses the top of my head before pulling back with a chuckle. “Don’t worry about it. It was a big change for me, too, to see these chipmunk cheeks again in all their glory.”

“What?” I say incredulously. “You don’t have chipmunk cheeks. You’re perfect.” I cringe at my rambling compliments, but I can’t seem to help myself. I’m taken aback by the way his face looks now – the angled jaw, the fullness of his lips. Sure, I saw pictures of him without facial hair when I visited, but he was younger in those. Smaller. Two dimensional.

“I don’t know about perfect, but thanks,” he says with another laugh. “Just thought it was time for a change. Embrace the spring.” He leans back a little and gives me a critical look. “Speaking of different, how about this, huh?” He runs his fingers down my braid. I usually wear my hair loose, but the natural waves were a nuisance during my cleaning fits; this was my hasty attempt to stay neat while I finished the last of my preparations this morning.

“Yeah, sorry,” I reply, glancing at his fingers as they trail down the tip of the braid gently. “I was running late, and I didn’t get a chance to clean up.”

“Sorry?” he scoffs.  “Why? I love this look. It’s how you looked when I first got to know you.” When I give him a confused look, he quickly explains. “In photos. Prim had so many of the two of you when you were younger.”

That makes more sense. A braid was my go-to hairstyle in my teens, when I was too busy trying to keep our household running smoothly to fuss with things like hair or makeup. “I haven’t worn it like this in years,” I say, looking down at the plaited strands.

“It suits you,” he says softly.

“Thanks.” When I look up again, his blue eyes are studying me. I’m not good with compliments, so I’m not sure what else to add. After a quiet pause, I look to Lily, her eyes red and tired from the trip. “Why don’t we get you guys home?”

“That sounds great,” Peeta agrees with a smile. “Lead the way.”

*-*-*-*

I’ve always been independent. A bit of a loner, even. After Prim moved out, a nosy neighbor asked if I was going to get a roommate, someone to share the expenses and be company for a ‘young single girl’ like me. Despite the patronizing tone, I understood the concern. Most people my age either have a roommate, a partner, or have moved back in with family. But the thing is, I don’t mind living alone. I draw strength from the quiet; revel in the peaceful solitude.

However, I’m pleased to find that having Peeta and Lily here feels good. Natural, even, probably due to the time we lived together in Denver. While I can enjoy the quiet of being alone, I get a different sense of peace from the noises of an active household.

Despite being a guest, Peeta immediately makes himself at home. Within the first few days, he settles into a routine of rising before me in the morning, putting on a kettle for tea, and baking or preparing some sort of breakfast for us to share before I go to work.

During the day, he explores the neighborhood, walking to the park or visiting the nearby library for story time. I offer to leave him my car, but he insists he wants to stay close to home to maintain Lily’s nap schedule. While she sleeps, he spends time on the internet, searching for ideas for the perfect first birthday cake.

Peeta was more than pleased with the guest room I’d prepared for them. Lily’s portable crib fits perfectly next to the bed and he was excited to use the bright window seat for his drawing. I couldn’t help but smile when I noticed he had packed the portfolio I gave him for Christmas, the leather soft and worn from use.

On one of my sleepless nights, I peek in on them through the open door. They are both fast asleep, Peeta sprawled out in bed with a book on his chest, and Lily under blankets warding off the slight breeze from the window that he left cracked open.

I lean against the door frame and listen to the sound of their soft breaths with a smile, thinking how nice it feels to have family under this roof again.

*-*-*-*

Lily’s birthday is on a Monday, but we plan a small gathering on the Sunday before. Haymitch, Rue and a few other friends that weren’t able to make it to Denver for the memorial service will be in attendance. Johanna will also be coming, along with my friend Madge, who I’ve known since high school.

We head to the grocery store on Friday evening to get the supplies for Lily’s cake. We’re keeping the menu basic – pizza and salad from a local shop – but Peeta is adamant that the cake should be beautiful, unique, and most importantly, made from scratch.

While Peeta peruses the bakery supplies, I push the cart to the cereal aisle to grab some for Lily. I’ve just spotted the familiar yellow box when a deep voice interrupts my hunt.

“Wow. She looks just like Prim.”

I turn to see dark hair and gray eyes so similar to my own. “Gale,” I breathe as he walks toward us, a half-filled shopping basket in his hand. “When did you get back to town?”

“Hey Catnip.” He gives me a half smile, his eyes snapping back to my niece, who is studying him with wide eyes. “Moved back a couple of months ago. Busted up my back during some training maneuvers. After the army discharged me, I figured I’d come back home, be closer to my mom and the kids. They’re all getting so big. Can you believe Posy’s starting high school next year?”

“Mmm,” I say with a nod.

He turns to face me finally, his head dropping down a bit in shame. “I … heard. About the accident. I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks,” I reply quietly.

“I would have called, I just-“

“It’s fine,” I interrupt. “I understand.” Years ago, Gale and I were as close as siblings, and he would have been the first one I called if something like this happened. But that was a long time ago. We aren’t those people anymore.

“Found the cake flour, so that should be everything.” Peeta’s voice interrupts our uncomfortable silence as he rounds the corner. “Oh, hi,” he says, looking between the two of us. I freeze, unsure of how to introduce the two men.

Peeta takes the initiative, shifting the flour to his left arm and extending a hand to Gale. “Peeta Mellark.”

Gale’s studies me for a moment longer before eyeing Peeta’s hand carefully. Finally he reaches out and shakes his hand in return. “Gale Hawthorne.”

“Oh,” Peeta replies, awareness flooding his face. “I’ve heard about you from Prim. Your family was very special to her. She called you the big brother she never had.”

Gale looks at me, confused. “Peeta is Lily’s dad,” I explain finally, not quite sure how else to describe him.

“I should have known,” Gale answers sheepishly. “Hey, I'm so sorry about Prim.”

“Thank you,” Peeta answers. “Fortunately, I haven’t had to go through it alone. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have Lily and Katniss.” He puts the flour into the cart and picks Lily up out of her seat.

Gale gives Lily a grin. “She’s adorable. I was just telling Catnip how much she looks like Prim.”

Peeta gives her a kiss on her nose. “She does,” he says with a sad smile. “Hey,” he says after a pause, “we’re having a birthday party for Lily this weekend. Why don’t you swing by?”

Only after he’s made this invitation does he look to me for my reaction. I quickly try to hide my instinctive scowl and maintain a neutral expression.

“Oh. I don’t… know…” Gale says, looking at me cautiously. Years of history weigh on my shoulders, and I find it impossible to say no.

“Of course,” I say finally. “You’re family, Gale. You should come, and bring Hazelle. I’d love for her to meet Lily, too.”

Gale gives me a relieved nod. “Yeah. I think I will.” I wait silently as the men discuss the time and Gale asks if he can bring anything. Finally Gale leans down and gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, Catnip. I’ll see you Sunday.”

I nod silently, my face flaming as he walks away. I can feel Peeta studying me, but I just clutch the handle of the cart and turn in the opposite direction toward the checkout.

*-*-*-*

“You got a minute?”

I look up from my book to see Peeta leaning on the doorframe. “Sure,” I say, sitting up more fully and putting a bookmark on the page before placing it on the end table. I smooth the blanket out around me. “What’s up?”

He moves into the room and sits down on the edge of the bed beside me. “I just wondered… Do I have anything to apologize for?”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Gale. I probably shouldn’t have invited him to the party without talking to you first. I just thought…” He shrugs. “Prim spoke so fondly of him.”

“It’s fine,” I reply, but he shakes his head.

“No, it’s not. You hardly said anything through dinner and then you headed up here before the sun even went down.” He chuckles ruefully. “I’m not the brightest bulb on the tree, but I can tell when someone’s mad at me.”

He looks so contrite, it tugs at my heart. “I’m not mad at you Peeta,” I say with a sigh. “It’s just… complicated. Me and Gale.” He nods, waiting to see what else I have to say. I pull my legs into my chest and hug them through the blankets. “We dated. Before he left for his last deployment.”

“Oh,” he says, a strange expression crossing his face. “Prim didn’t...” He shakes his head. “I interrupted when you were talking. Were you hoping to see him again? I don’t want to intrude… If I’m in the way here at all-”

“No!” I shake my head, trying to convey just how wrong he is. “No, Gale and I are not going to be dating again. Ever.”

Somehow Peeta looks more confused by my statement than before, but he doesn’t press me for more than I want to share. I appreciate his patience with me and decide I may as well explain. I adjust my legs again and run my hands over the blanket, smoothing it over and over.

“It was right after Prim left freshman year, so she didn't even know. I was lonely, and he’d been harassing me for months – years honestly – to give ‘us’ a try, so I finally gave in. I tried for a while, but it… it never felt right. You know?”

Peeta nods, his brow furrowed. I can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking.

“It ended badly. Shortly before he was due to ship out again, I finally admitted I just didn’t feel that way about him. He was upset, and we fought. We both said a lot of hurtful things to each other. He left a few weeks later, and I hadn’t spoken to him since.” I run my hand through my hair, my fingers slipping through the strands, tugging on a snarl. “It’s funny. The one reason I didn’t want to date him in the first place was that I didn’t want to lose my best friend. But somehow I did anyway.”

Peeta puts his hand on top of mine on the bed, his thumb rubbing me gently. “That must have been difficult.”

I shrug and try to laugh, but somehow it feels like I’m choking instead. My eyes fill with tears, the shock of the day finally coming crashing down on me. I bury my face in my hands, the loss of my friendship with Gale blending with my pain over losing Prim again. Lately, these moments of grief overwhelm me, sometimes out of nowhere.

“Hey,” Peeta murmurs, moving over and pulling me into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Katniss. I didn’t mean to cause you any pain. I never would have invited him if I’d realized.”

I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself. Peeta’s hair is slightly damp, and I inhale the comforting spicy musk of his soap. He strokes my hair gently, waiting for me to calm down. Eventually, I untangle myself from him and wipe at my face.

“I’m okay, really,” I sigh. “It was just a shock to see him again. But I think it will be good to be able to put this behind me and move on.”

“Are you sure?”

I nod. “Yeah. It’s a small town, and if he’s really back for good, I won’t be able to avoid him forever. Besides, I really loved his mom, Hazelle, and I want her to meet Lily.”

As if on cue, a cry sounds from down the hall. Peeta turns toward the sound, then back to me with a conflicted expression on his face. “I’m fine, Peeta, honest,” I laugh. “Go check on Lily. Get some rest.”

“Okay.” He stands, squeezing my hand before he leaves the bedside. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night,” I say with a smile. After he leaves, I pick up my book and try to read again, my senses calming from the scent of spice that lingers in his wake.

*-*-*-*

“Looks like everyone’s having a good time,” I say, moving into the kitchen with to refill a bowl of guacamole. “Who would have guessed that Johanna would be so good with babies? Lily’s really taken to her.”

“Mmm,” Peeta mumbles from his place at the sink. He nods his head but doesn’t turn around to acknowledge me.

“Don't worry about those dishes, Peeta.” I offer. “We can just leave them for later.”

"I guess." He sighs, his shoulders slumping as he leans heavily on the counter. "I just needed something mindless to do for a few minutes."

I move to him, touching his back lightly. "Are you okay?"

"I just keep thinking... It’s not fair!” He slams his fists down on the countertop, startling me. “It's her first birthday! Her mother should be here.”

“Peeta,” I whisper.

He finally turns to look at me, and I can see his eyes are bright with unshed tears. “Prim's never going to… watch her have her first piece of cake… or, or… blow out the candles..." His voice breaks and he closes his eyes, rubbing them with his thumb and forefinger. “It’s not fair,” he whimpers as the tears finally begin to fall.

“I know.” There's nothing I can say to right this wrong, but I gather him in my arms and hold on tight. "It's not fair." He clings to me, his face buried in my neck, his breath heavy in my ear. My hand tangles his curls in an attempt to calm him.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, his voice a low rumble. “I didn’t expect it to hit me like this.”

“It’s okay. It happens to me, too,” I reply, my voice as low as his. He’s still clinging to me, and I know I won’t be the first to let go. He needs me right now.

“Catnip, do you have any more – Oh. Sorry.”

We separate at the sound of Gale’s voice. Peeta turns away, returning to the sink while wiping his eyes discreetly. “What’s up, Gale?”

“Nothing important. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He throws a sideways glance towards Peeta before meeting my gaze, a slight frown on his face. “Haymitch wanted to know if you had any more beer. I guess there’s none left in the cooler.”

“Uh, yeah. There’s some in the fridge downstairs,” I reply, confused by the slight glare he’s giving Peeta. “You remember where it is?”

“Of course. I’ll go grab it. Thanks.” He heads back through the doorway, leaving us alone again.

“I’m sorry, Katniss,” Peeta says with a sigh. “I don’t mean to embarrass you in front of your friends.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Peeta. You’re my friend, too. And you have every right to be upset. If they don’t understand that, that’s on them.” I give him a smile. “Now, I think it might be time to bring that amazing cake out.”

“I don’t know about amazing,” he chuckles, breaking out in a full laugh when I quirk an eyebrow dramatically.

“It’s the absolute definition of ‘amazing’ and you know it.”

Peeta created a frosting garden on three miniature tiers. The surface is covered in a soft green, with dozens of tiny frosting flowers in shades of pink, yellow and white covering the sides. The top layer, about the size of a cupcake, is removable so that Lily can have it all for herself. It's decorated more simply, with just a tiny cluster of pink primroses in the center.

Watching him decorate it was like watching an artist working on his masterpiece. His face takes on a special look when he concentrates, his usual easy expression replaced by something intense and focused. I remember, back in Colorado, that he mentioned decorating the cakes was his favorite thing to do when he worked in his parents’ bakery. I feel like I’m seeing the very light inside of him when he’s in his element, doing what he loves.

My friend Madge enters the kitchen and deposits a pile of trash into the barrel. "Well, Johanna is still hogging the baby, so I might as well find something else to do. Do you guys need any help in here?" she offers.

“Sure,” I reply. While Peeta carries the cake into the dining room, I give Madge ice cream duty and start to grab some extra plates and utensils for serving.

“He’s great,” she says quietly as she removes the cellophane from the cartons. “You can totally see why Prim would have fallen in love with him so quickly.”

“Yeah, he is,” I agree, though Glimmer’s words from a few months ago suddenly haunt me. Since that day at the department store, I’ve buried the memory. I’ve convinced myself it was just idle gossip not worth a second thought, and I haven’t mentioned it to anyone, even Peeta. Madge is an old friend and a good listener, but I still don’t feel comfortable sharing this with anyone.

“And Lily is a doll,” she continues. “How long will they be staying?” She moves to the drawer to grab the ice cream scoop.

I frown, not wanting to think about them leaving already. “I’m not sure exactly, but Peeta mentioned possibly staying through Mother’s day. These first few holidays are really tough for them.”

“I can imagine,” she says, a sad look on her face. “It’s good the two of you have gotten so close."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"You and Peeta are both missing Prim in ways that no one else can understand. And neither of you has much family to lean on. I just think it’s great you have each other, and that you’ve hit it off so well. Anyone can see how much you care about each other.” She touches my arm a gentle touch. “You deserve to be happy, Katniss.”

I follow her as she heads into the dining room, silently wondering why her final statement unnerves me somehow.

*-*-*-*

“Ahhh.” Peeta flops down on the couch with a sigh, his head flopping back against the cushions. “Listen to that.”

“What?” I ask, standing still and listening without success.

“Peace and quiet,” he whispers.

Chuckling, I bring the last of the empty glasses into the kitchen and deposit them in the sink. I turn off the light and return to the living room, sitting down beside him. His eyes are closed, his arms up on the back of the couch. I watch his chest rise and fall for a few moments. “Tired?” I ask softly.

His eyelids flutter open and he gives me a drowsy grin. “A little bit,” he laughs. His arm comes down around my shoulders, pulling me into his right side before leaning his head back and closing his eyes again. “But in a good way.”

I know exactly what he means. I rest my head on his shoulder and revel in the silence for the moment.

“Today was a good day,” he says quietly.

“It was,” I agree. “Everyone had a great time. And Lily seemed really happy.”

I feel him lift his head from the couch. I look up to find his blue eyes studying me. “She did. Didn’t she?”

“Yeah,” I say with a smile. “She did. And, no surprises: everyone loved her. Especially Johanna and Madge.”

He squeezes my shoulder. “She loved them right back. She’ll enjoy seeing them again in a few weeks.”

“What are you talking about?” I ask, leaning away suspiciously.

“For your birthday.”

I shake my head. “Ohhh no. No more parties.”

“Don’t worry,” he laughs, pulling me into his side again. “Not a party. Just a few friends over for a casual dinner. I’m cooking.” He rests his chin on the top of my head, speaking more quietly. “Please. I want to do this. I’d like to get to know your friends better.”

Why is it so hard to say no to him? “Fine,” I say with a dramatic huff. “But no big fuss. And no presents.”

“Of course not. In fact, I’ll ask everyone to be as mean to you as possible,” he jokes. I smack him lightly in the chest, and he grabs my hand before I can pull it away and holds it against him. “Now, can we just relax and enjoy the quiet?”

He’s already got his eyes closed again. There are dishes to do and trash to take out, but I have to admit, it’s temptingly comfortable here on the couch beside him. He’s warm and steady and most importantly, here. I know this trip won’t last forever, and I want to make the most of our time together. I tuck my feet up and curl into his side. He tightens his hold on me and we get some well-deserved rest. Together.

Chapter Text

“Do you mind if I borrow the car tomorrow?” Peeta asks me one evening over dinner. “There’s a puppet show at the library that I think Lily would love.”

Peeta has a way of adapting to changes that I can’t help but admire. He’s lived in a handful of states over the past few years and has made good friends and a community network in each of them. So it’s no surprise that he’s made himself at home here in Connecticut as well in just the few short weeks he’s been here.

“Sure,” I reply with a nod. “I can ask Johanna to give me a ride to work.”

“No, we’ll drive you,” he insists. “You’re on the way. And then maybe we can grab dinner when we pick you up. Check out that Italian place you were telling me about?”

“Yeah. That sounds nice.”

“Then it’s a date,” he says with a smile.

As he turns to break up some bread for Lily, I notice the shadow on his jawline is more pronounced in the evening light. “Busy day today?” I ask.

"Not particularly. Why?"

"I just noticed you didn't shave," I note. On days when Lily is especially needy, Peeta forgoes his own needs to care for her.

He laughs and rubs at his cheek. “Actually… I was thinking of growing the beard back,” he admits.

“You were?" I reply, my voice cracking. "What happened to trying something new and embracing change and all that?”

“I did try something new. Just thought I’d go back to the old for now.” He shrugs, looking down at the table and putting much more focus into cutting his meat than seems necessary. “Besides… I thought you liked the beard? You seemed disappointed when I shaved it.”

“I did!” I answer, probably too quickly. He looks up, his eyes twinkling. “I mean, I do. Like it. I just… You don’t have to grow it back if you don’t want to. Certainly not on account of me. I think you’re perfect either way.”

I mentally cringe at my choice of words, so similar to my reaction in the airport. What’s the matter with me?

He chuckles, his nervousness seeming to fade. “Thank you, Katniss. You’re pretty perfect yourself.”

I roll my eyes, my cheeks flaming. Luckily, Peeta changes the subject to Lily and her walking progress. A few tentative steps earlier this week rapidly graduated into practically running around the house. I share in his excitement, grateful that the strange tension in the air has faded.

*-*-*-*

“So, five o’clock?”

“Yeah. I’ll text you if I’m running late for any reason.”

“Okay.” I open the door, but before I can get out, Peeta reaches across the console and touches my forearm. “Thanks again for letting us borrow the car. Have a good day,” he says, a warm smile on his face.

“Anytime,” I reply, leaning into the back seat to wave goodbye to Lily. “Have fun today, you two.”

I close the door and wave to the car as they drive away.

“Aww, your boyfriend drove you to school today?” Johanna walks toward me in a leather trench coat, a messenger bag slung across her shoulders. I can’t see her eyes behind the large dark sunglasses she’s wearing, but her lips are curled up in a smirk. “Did he ask you to prom yet?”

“Shut up, Johanna,” I growl, pushing past her to walk toward the building. “And isn’t it a little late in the year for a leather jacket?”

She catches up and falls into step beside me. “It was chilly this morning,” she replies. “Not that you’d notice, with the extra heat in your house.”

I stop and face her just outside the office door, my face scrunched up in a scowl. Her jokes about Peeta and I have become unbearable ever since she met him at Lily’s birthday party. “For the millionth time, Johanna, there is nothing going on between us. Peeta is just a good friend.”

She shrugs, the smirk on her face only widening. “I don’t know, hooking up with him seems like the perfect revenge to me.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Revenge for what?”

“For running off with The Hunk and abandoning you. For keeping their love child a secret. Admit it, now that the shock has worn off: you’re not the slightest bit pissed at her?” I see an eyebrow raise behind her sunglasses challengingly.

“Her? You mean - Prim?! No, Johanna, I’m not. God. You’re amazing.” I shove past her and storm into the office with her following close behind. When I reach my cubicle, I drop my bags to the ground and fall heavily into my chair. Johanna stops beside me, perching on the edge of my desk. She pushes her sunglasses on top of her head, her spiky hair held back by the frames.

“I’m not-” I drop my voice, the quiet office slowly buzzing to life. “Prim was my sister. She made mistakes, but I forgive her for that. I loved her more than anything else in this world. Is that really so hard for you to understand? What loving someone unconditionally means?”

Johanna shrugs and looks away, her bravado melting away. She seems uncomfortable for once, as if I’ve hit a nerve. I’m confused by this power shift, but it ends quickly as she squares her shoulders and shakes her head. “Whatever, Brainless. If you want to deny your feelings for Blondie, that’s your call.”

I open my mouth to disagree, but she continues. “Speaking of hotties, I ran into your friend Gale at the pub last night.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. We got to talking and stayed to have a few drinks. Does that bother you?”

“No,” I reply, confused. “Why would it?”

“Well, I know you guys dated a while ago. I wouldn’t want to take any liberties if you were still interested.”

“Not at all. Gale and I are just friends. You’re welcome to see him if you want to.”

She hops down off the desk and adjusts her bag. “Good. Then we don’t have to cancel our date this weekend. I’m looking forward to getting a look at his military maneuvers.”

With a wink, she heads to her own desk, leaving me alone with a pile of work and a stomach in knots.

*-*-*-*

"What do you think about having your birthday dinner next weekend?" Peeta asks, his head buried in a cabinet as he puts the last of the clean dishes away.

"Next weekend?” I ask, watching him as I take a seat at the table. My birthday is only a few days away; it’s hard to believe they’ve been here nearly a month. “Uh, sure. There’s nothing going on. Except… you know ... Mother's day."

Peeta closes the cabinet door gently and joins me at the table. “Yeah. I know,” he says with a sad smile. “I figured we could have dinner with your friends on Saturday, and then Sunday we can have that picnic you suggested. Just the three of us.”

We’ve been invited to have a Mother’s day brunch with Madge’s family, or to have dinner with Haymitch, but we wanted to keep the day quiet and private. I suggested a visit to a local park where Prim and I used to play as children; there’s a beautiful meadow there that’s perfect for picnicking.

“That sounds good,” I reply. “The weather has been so beautiful lately; I think it would be a nice day for Lily.”

He nods slowly. “She’d like that. Luckily she’s young enough that she doesn’t know any better yet what day it is. I hate what it will always represent for her,” he says sadly.  “Her mother is gone. One of her grandmothers is gone, and she’ll probably never know your mother.”

“My mother’s dead, too,” I admit softly.

He looks at me, confusion evident on his face. “What?”

I’m not sure why I’m confessing this to him. I haven’t spoken of it to anyone, not even Gale, but somehow, in this moment, I need to get it out.

“I mean, I assume she’s dead by now.” I swallow. “A couple of years ago, I got a letter from somewhere in New York. She was sick. Cancer. She’d entered hospice, and she was making her peace with the world. Before…” I pause, my voice shaking. Peeta’s blue eyes study me, waiting patiently for me to continue. “She wanted to tell us she loved us. To apologize for all she’d done.”

He shakes his head. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize. Prim never mentioned it.”

“Prim didn’t know,” I reply softly. “Funny," I chuckle ruefully, “Johanna thinks I should be mad at Prim for lying to me about Lily. But I know all about wanting to protect the ones you love, even when it means keeping secrets. Hell, Prim probably got that trait from me.”

I study Peeta's face, waiting for the inevitable look of judgment, but I see only kindness and compassion.

“She didn’t send an address, and I didn't try to track her down. After all we’d done to pull our lives together, to get back on our feet after she left us? I … I couldn’t open those doors again. Prim was getting ready to start college, and it would have devastated her. I wouldn’t do that to her.” I shake my head. “Prim was only thirteen when she left. For four years, we had no mother to speak of. We'd already mourned her and moved on with our lives. Why should Prim have to go through that all over again?”

Peeta nods and reaches out to squeeze my hand. “I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been for you. To have to go through all of that alone.”

I shrug, unable to respond. It was hard. A girl should not have to say goodbye to her mother once, let alone twice. A tear leaks from my eye but I brush it away. I won’t let myself dwell on the past right now.

“You must miss her,” he says.

“She wasn’t exactly the model mother,” I scoff.

“Yeah, but…” He pauses and looks away, his face turned toward the windows and the sunlight streaming through the sheers. Finally he turns back to me, a serious expression on his face. “Growing up, my mother was … abusive. She used to hit me and my brothers. And she had a cutting tongue, always telling us how stupid we were. Lazy. Worthless.”

“Peeta,” I breathe. He’s still holding my hand, but I bring my other hand up to grasp his between my own. I can’t understand anyone speaking so cruelly to a child, and the thought of someone hurting Peeta fills me with a strange combination of rage and sadness. I want to protect him, keep him safe, even though it was years ago.

“No matter what, though,” he continues, “she was still my mother. The only one I had. And it still hurt when I lost her.”

He gets up to make us some tea, leaving me to think about his words. Over the years, I’ve buried my feelings about my mother, but there is no point denying there were scars left behind. When she left, I lost two people: the real her - the flawed person she truly was - and the woman I always wished she would be. I had to accept that the mother of my fantasies, the one who would love and protect us, would never exist.

*-*-*-*

It’s dark… so dark. I feel the walls around me; rough, biting. I’m in a cave of some kind. I think I hear the trickle of water nearby, but the darkness prevents me from finding it. I fumble, my fingers blindly scanning the walls, searching for any means of escape.

“Katniss? Katniss!”

“Prim!” Where is she? I can hear her calling for me. She needs me! There’s a desperate edge to her voice that makes me claw at the walls. I must get to her.

“Katniss!” Her voice, it’s getting louder. Finally, I see a bit of light washing on the floor ahead, and I realize it’s coming from above me. I’m not in a cave, but a hole.

I look up to find the opening. The moon washes over a figure, leaning down. Blond hair, arms outstretched. But as I get closer, I see - no, it’s not Prim. Mom? I back away slowly, the rough walls cutting into my back.

“Katniss! Please! Where are you?”

I don’t answer, hoping she’ll just disappear. I don’t want her to know I’m here. Finally I see the arms retract, and I’m left in silence.

But only for a moment. The sound of scraping comes from up above and I see mounds of dirt begin to land at my feet. Slowly at first, but then more and more quickly. Rapidly the hole begins to fill around me, rocks and pebbles landing on my head.

“Mom!” Now I’m shouting for her, but no answers come. ”Help me!”

I’m left with just the sounds of the earth piling around me, the muffled silence as it reaches my waist. My chest. My neck. I'm going to die here, buried beneath the earth, like my father before me. Oh, god, I can’t breathe -

“Help me!” Oh, I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe… "Please!"

“Katniss!” I feel myself pulled into a strong pair of arms. “I’ve got you.”

I’m sobbing, the tears cooling my flaming cheeks as I gasp for breath. I flail, struggling to free myself, even though I know this person has come to save me. Where am I? It’s still so dark. “I can’t see!”

A lamp clicks on, and I squint against it. From the dim light, I recognize my end table. I’m in my room. And the arms... “Peeta,” I whimper against his chest. It was a dream. Just a dream.

But it wasn’t a dream. My mother was calling for me, and I ignored her. And now she’s gone. She’s gone, my father is gone, Prim is gone. And I’m all alone.

“You’re not alone, Katniss,” Peeta murmurs. I realize I have been rambling through my tears, that Peeta’s heard everything, and it just makes me cry harder. “Shhh. I’m here.”

His attempts at comfort only serve to upset me further, and I break into choking sobs. He pulls me into his lap, cradling me much like he might hold Lily. I know I'm soaking his t-shirt, but he doesn't flinch, just strokes my hair and back and offers hushed words of support that I can barely make out over my weeping.

Eventually, I start to worry that my crying will wake Lily, so I begin to compose myself. I take deep cleansing breaths, trying to focus on the sensations in this moment. Peeta’s warm hand slowly stroking my back; his clean, familiar scent where I’ve burrowed into his chest; the rhythmic beat of his heart beneath my ear; his deep voice, still whispering softly to me.

“It’s alright, Katniss. I get nightmares, too. Remember?” I do remember. That night in Denver, when he woke me with his night terror; I made him tea, and sat with him until the wee hours of the morning. Holding his hand until he was ready to face the world again.

"It's okay to be sad," he continues. "But you aren't alone. I'll always be here for you. And Lily, too." Another whimper escapes and I sniff back the tears. I can feel his arms tighten around me. “What can I do, Katniss?” he asks softly. “How can I help?”

I can’t shake the image of my mother reaching for me, or the feeling of the ground swallowing me whole. “Just talk to me,” I beg. “Say anything. Tell me a story.”

He pauses only a moment, then begins to tell me about a drawing he’s working on. He explains the process of choosing the right colors, how he is trying to capture the look of sunlight on water. The words mean nothing to me, but I close my eyes and listen to his voice. There's a musical quality that soothes me. It reminds me of my father singing me to sleep as a child.

I can feel my body relaxing, a sense of peace filling my limbs. Eventually, Peeta stops talking, probably assuming I’m asleep. My heart races in terror as I’m shifted back into bed.

“Peeta, wait-” I ask, my voice still hoarse from crying. “Will you stay with me? Just a little longer? Until I fall asleep?”

“Sure,” he replies, adjusting the covers around me and sliding on top of them next to me. I notice now that he’s only wearing a pair of shorts with his t-shirt. While the days are warmer now, nights like tonight can still be cool, especially with the windows cracked.

“You must be cold. You can get under the covers with me if you want,” I suggest.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Of course.” I’m still trembling from my nightmare; I don’t have time to think about anything else but his comfort… and maybe selfishly of myself. Having him under the blankets makes it easier for me to lay my head on his chest, where I can hear the strong and steady beating of his heart again.

I pull the blankets back and Peeta climbs in, reclining against the headboard. I lay back against him and he puts his arm around me, pulling me close. I feel safe, and protected, and so warm, it takes almost no time for me to fall back to sleep.

*-*-*-*

When I wake again, it’s morning. I’m alone, but the other side of the bed is still warm.

From downstairs comes the sound of cooking; cabinet doors closing and pans being moved around.

I pull on my robe, suddenly feeling shy in the light of day. I'm embarrassed of my behavior last night; how pathetic I must have seemed. Peeta must think I'm so weak and needy.

I pad down the stairs and round the corner to the kitchen, watching for a moment as Peeta prepares something on the stove, talking to Lily with his back to us. She smiles at me from her booster seat, an investment Peeta made when they arrived.

"Kh-iss!" Lily squeals, her familiar attempt at my name causing Peeta to spin around.

"Hi," I say quietly.

"Good morning," he says, his bright smile easing any worries that things would be awkward. "Have a seat! I made some oatmeal and cut up some of that fruit from the farmer's market."

He pulls out a chair for me, and immediately goes to work serving me a dish of oatmeal with brown sugar and cinnamon. Sliced strawberries and blueberries are in a bowl on the table. From the pink stains on Lily's cheeks, I can tell she's already been enjoying them.

I take my seat and study the bowl he places in front of me. After serving his own, Peeta sits down beside me. I focus on stirring my food until he puts a hand on my arm to get my attention. "So... No more nightmares?" he asks, though he must already know the answer. I slept like a rock last night, better than I have in ages.

"No," I answer. "How about you?"

"No nightmares," he answers with a smile. "Although I have to apologize - I didn't mean to stay all night. Your bed is just really comfortable," he chuckles.

I put my spoon down. "No, Peeta, I should be the one to apologize. I never should have asked you to stay -"

"Stop," he interrupts me with a shake of his head. "I was glad to help. That's what you and I do for each other, right? We look out for one another. That’s what friends are for.”

I nod, remembering our promises when we parted in Denver. That we would always be there for one another.

“You’ve done the same for me. Haven’t you?” he asks, softer. I nod again. “Okay then.” He slides my bowl closer to me. “Now eat. Before it gets cold."

“Yes, sir,” I chuckle. I pick up my spoon and dig in, blowing on the steam gently before taking a bite. It’s sweet and creamy and helps to fill up the emptiness inside me.

*-*-*-*

“Sorry I’m late, Katniss!” Madge hangs her bag on the hook near the door and pulls me into a hug. “Stupid last minute budget meeting.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I mumble into her blond curls. She pulls back and rifles through her bag, searching for something. “There’s still some lamb stew on the stove. Peeta made way too much, of course.”

“I might take you up on that. I grabbed a granola bar from the vending machine at work, but that didn’t do much... ah!” She pulls a small silver box from her bag. “Happy birthday!”

“Madge, I didn’t want any gifts!” I whine.

She just shakes her head and holds it out to me. “It’s not really a gift, so stop. Just open it.”

I remove the wrapping to find a framed photo of Madge and me in high school. We’re sitting on a rock wall, oversized sunglasses framing her face and her blond curls held back by a bright pink headband. I’m in my usual high school outfit of jeans and a t-shirt, with my hair in its trademark braid.

“That’s a great picture.” I spin to find Peeta has joined us in the entryway.

“Thanks. It’s hard to believe that was almost ten years ago. High school seems like just yesterday.”

“Really? I thought that was from just yesterday. You two haven’t changed at all!” Peeta says with a smile that’s just a bit too wide.

“Very funny,” I say, elbowing him playfully in the side.

He grabs at it dramatically and pretends to be wounded. “Wow, you hit pretty hard for such an old lady.” I move to punch him again and he straightens up, waving both hands in surrender. “Okay, okay! I give!”

He swings an arm companionably around my shoulders, and mine goes naturally to his waist. “Don’t listen to a word he says, Madge. He’s full of it. And for the record, he’s a year older than me.”

“Seven months!” he says, exasperated.

“Whatever.”

Madge just laughs, looking between the two of us. “I’ll remember to stay on his good side,” she chuckles.

I hear Lily start to whine from the living room where Haymitch had been playing with her. I pat Peeta gently on the chest and remove myself from his arm. “I’ll get her. She got up so early this morning, she’s probably ready for bed. Would you help Madge out? She was interested in a bowl of stew.”

“Absolutely,” he says, shifting his arm to her shoulders and leading her toward the kitchen. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

*-*-*-*

As I suspected, the early morning wakeup and the excitement of the day wore Lily out. I barely got through the first verse of her song before she was asleep.

I make my way back downstairs, stopping short when I hear Gale’s voice coming from the living room. He sounds agitated, the beers he had since dinner adding just the slightest hint of a slur to his words.

“Katniss has always been so blind! But it’s plain as day he’s got feelings for her.”

I try to figure out what he’s referring to. Who has feelings for me?

“No shit,” I hear Johanna reply. Ever since their date last week, they seem to be thick as thieves. They’ve been joined at the hip all night. “And she’s clearly got them right back. I’m always calling her on it at work. She blushes like a schoolgirl when she talks about him. But she claims they’re just friends.”

My hands fly to my face, my cheeks flaming suddenly. Does she mean… Peeta?

Gale groans. “They’re so touchy-feely – there’s definitely more than friendship there. She’s never been like that before with me. She’s not a hugger. But suddenly she’s hugging him two, three times a night? What the hell?”

I try to analyze my interaction with Peeta in the hallway earlier with Madge. Was I hugging him? Touching him more than I should have?

“And those looks he’s always giving her,” Gale continues. “He’s practically mooning!”

“Oh, he’s got it bad,” Johanna agrees. “And as usual, Brainless doesn’t see a thing. She keeps bringing up the fact that he’s a widower. Like that makes the guy a monk or something.”

I think back on all the times Johanna has made comments about something else going on with Peeta and me. I thought she was just teasing, trying to get a rise out of me like she always does. But now… now I’m not so sure.

“Oh, he’s no monk!” Gale scoffs. “It’s just weird if you ask me. I mean the guy is still wearing his wedding ring!”

“Yeah, but he’s got it on the wrong hand. Did you notice? After that first week, he moved it to his right hand instead.”

He did? I guess he did remove it while cooking this morning, but I didn’t pay attention to what hand he put it back on.

Apparently, there are a lot of things I haven’t been paying attention to.

I can’t listen anymore. I carefully back away and head to the bathroom, locking myself in and burying my head in my hands. My stomach flips in shame as I think of the other night, when he comforted me after my nightmare. How I begged him to share my bed. What was I thinking? How could I be so stupid?

I don’t for a minute believe that Peeta has feelings for me. No matter what Johanna says, I know he’s just extremely kind and warm. Didn’t he treat Madge the same as he treated me tonight, putting his arm around her shoulders just as he did mine?

No. The problem isn’t with Peeta. It’s with me. Somehow I’ve let my guard down, let go of my inhibitions and allowed myself to cross a line. It wasn’t intentional, but my behavior could be construed as flirting. And in doing so, I’ve opened both Peeta and I up to terrible gossip and rumors.

Our reputations are at stake, but worse - what have I done to Lily? What would she think if she were older? What kind of woman makes a play for her sister’s husband?

I have to fix this.

I take a deep breath and wash my face, gathering my strength to face my friends again. From here on, I make a vow not to make this situation any worse than it is. I will get through tonight, and tomorrow I’ll take care of this. Peeta and Lily are my family now, and I won’t let anyone hurt them – including me.

*-*-*-*

“Wow. This place is beautiful,” Peeta says as he closes the car door. He moves to the back seat to unbuckle Lily and grab the picnic basket he packed this morning. “You weren’t exaggerating.”

He carries Lily the short distance to the green and puts her down to explore. I watch as she takes a few tentative steps before plopping down onto her bottom and crawling across the lush grass. After exploring a bit, she sits down and pets at the fuzzy top of a dandelion, giggling as it comes apart beneath her fingers.

I remember another dandelion, the one I saw the day Peeta told me he was coming to visit. It had filled me with so much hope, so much happiness at the thought of seeing them both again. But this time, watching Lily laugh and play, I’m only reminded of what I’m going to lose. What I have to give up, for their sake.

"…Katniss?"

“Mmm?” I pull my gaze from Lily to find another pair of blue eyes watching me carefully.

“You’re a million miles away,” Peeta says with a small smile. “I thought we could let Lily play while we eat?” I realize he’s already spread out a quilt and unpacked a feast. Fresh bread, fruit and cheese, plus a large thermos beside two mugs and spoons.

“Sure.” We might as well eat and enjoy the day as much as possible before we talk. I figure it will be easier to have this conversation with something in my stomach.

He serves me up a mug of yesterday’s stew with a chunk of bread for dipping. We eat together peacefully, taking turns jumping up to grab Lily when her wandering takes her too far from us.

We don’t dwell on the pain that Mother’s Day brings both of us. Instead, we share stories from our childhoods that make us smile; keeping our mothers on the fringes of memories, rather than dwelling on their faults. When the subject turns to Prim, we keep the conversation light, remembering happier times. It almost feels like we’re practicing. These are the stories we’ll tell Lily someday, so she can come to know and love her mother as we both did.

Peeta serves himself another helping of stew, but my stomach is tight with nerves and I can’t eat another bite. Lily eventually wears herself out and falls asleep on the edge of the quilt, where Peeta drapes a blanket across her back. He packs the rest of the food back into the basket and flops back onto the quilt with a contented sigh.

“Wow. Katniss, look at those clouds,” he comments.

I lean my head back and glance up quickly. “Mmm,” I mumble in agreement, more interested in checking the time on my phone.

“No, really look at them,” he insists with a laugh, tugging on my arm until I lay down beside him.

I stare up at the sky. It’s a brilliant blue today in a shade that reminds me of Peeta’s eyes. The clouds look like you could reach out and touch them. Some are large white puffs floating across the heavens in clusters, others are so wispy and loose they melt off into nothingness.

“Did you ever look for shapes in the clouds?” he asks. I glance to my left where Peeta’s curls are fanned out on the blanket. “My brothers and I, we used to lie out in our backyard and find all kinds of creatures in the sky. Our mother always said it was a silly waste of time, but we loved it.” He points up to our right. “Like there, that looks like a rabbit about to leap across a log.” His arm moves again, a little lower. “Or there – can’t you see a pirate ship with its flags waving?”

He turns to look at me, a peaceful smile on his face. “Did you and Prim ever do that? Let your imaginations go wild when you looked at the sky?”

“Sometimes,” I reply, but that’s only partly the truth. We did look at the clouds with our father occasionally when we were small, but I was never good at it. Of the two of us, Prim was the dreamer. She was the one who could see designs and patterns, imagine castles and unicorns floating above us. I was the practical one. I looked at clouds and saw a different kind of beauty: temporary moments of shade from the scorching sun, or impending rain storms that would help the plants to grow.

I can see now that Peeta and Prim are kindred spirits in that way. They could both dream, open up their minds to imagine a world of possibilities, where anything can happen. They fit together. Me, I see only what’s real, and right in front of me.

Peeta lets out a sigh beside me. His eyes are closed, his hands folded across his chest. “This is such a perfect day. I wish I could just freeze this moment and live in it forever.”

The tone of his voice fills me with guilt. I can’t allow this to go on. I sit up quickly, my heart in my throat.

Peeta squints up at me, one hand shading his eyes as the other drifts to my back. “Are you okay, Katniss?”

“Peeta…” I can’t look at him. I focus on a cluster of dandelions in the meadow.

“Hmm?” I feel him sit up beside me, his legs stretched out with his knees bent slightly. “Katniss, if something is bothering you, you know you can talk to me about it, right?”

He needs to stop being so kind to me. It’s only making this harder.

“Peeta,” I begin again. “I was just… wondering…” I fumble for my words. “When were you… What your plans were…” He’s watching me, waiting so patiently. Finally I just spit it out. “For going home.”

His brows raise, a series of emotions flashing across his face – surprise, confusion, embarrassment, shame. He looks away from me, out toward the meadow. His voice is quiet, shaky. “Oh. I – I guess I didn’t really figure that out yet.” Finally he meets my eyes, a hint of pink on his cheeks; I can’t tell if it’s from the sun or something else. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstay my welcome, Katniss. I didn’t realize –”

“No, no!” I need to do this, but I can’t let him think I didn’t want him to come. That I didn’t love having him and Lily here with me. “It’s not that, Peeta. I was just thinking you should probably make plans soon. Flights will get expensive if you wait too long. And I’m sure Finnick and Annie miss you. And Mags.”

With a skeptical squint of his eyes, he nods slightly. “You’re probably right.”

“I just know you’ll want to get back home again before Lily forgets about it.” I’m rambling, but I need to make him understand. “Besides, you can’t stay with me forever. You wouldn’t want people to start talking, right?” I chuckle awkwardly, but I can tell I’ve given away too much by the way his face floods with awareness.

He sits up straighter and shakes his head. “Of course. Right.” He rubs a hand through his curls before removing the blanket from Lily to start rousing her. “You’re right. I didn’t even think of that.” Lily fusses, so he pulls her into his lap with a kiss. “I didn’t even think of that,” he repeats softly to himself.

Lily squirms again and he stands and shifts her to his hip. “We should probably pack up and head back to the house. She could use a real nap. And I should probably start looking for flights this afternoon.”

“No!” I start to panic at the thought of him leaving angry, or hurting his feelings. “Peeta, I didn’t mean today! I was just… talking… I…”

“No, you were right, Katniss. I was starting to let myself get too comfortable. Using this visit to avoid facing everything. It’s easy to forget the rest of the world out here with you.” He gives me sheepish smile. “But it’s time I start to face reality again. I need to do the responsible thing.”

I nod and begin to help him pack up. Responsible. That’s the word for it. Making difficult choices that because they’re the right thing to do. This distance, it’s what’s best for Lily and Peeta.

No matter how much it might hurt.

Chapter Text

Six weeks.

Lily and Peeta went home six weeks ago. After our talk in the meadow, Peeta made a serious effort to plan their return. By the next evening, he’d purchased plane tickets, cancelled the forwarding of his mail, and arranged a ride home from the airport with Finnick.

They were gone by the end of the week.

The night they left, I had a nightmare. Horrible visions of Prim’s car exploding, scorching flames and smoke so thick I couldn’t breathe. I woke in tears, my sister’s screams still echoing in my ears. I wished that Peeta were here to hold me, until I remembered I’m not supposed to wish that anymore.

This was what I wanted to happen. No – what needed to happen. At least, that’s what I keep reminding myself when I get weak.

Weakness comes in many forms. The instinct to send him a text when something funny happens, my fingers hovering over the keys before I remember that I shouldn’t. The restlessness I feel on Monday nights, when we used to have our Skype sessions. The strange emptiness I feel in my own home.

I’d grown accustomed to living alone again, and now… The house feels so empty. There’s no Lily giggling from her booster seat in the kitchen. No more baby toys popping up in the strangest places. No sounds of Peeta’s heavy tread moving around upstairs.

I went through a similar mourning phase when Prim moved away, and another when she died. This feeling though, it’s something different. Peeta is very much alive, and I know exactly where to find him. I’m just making a conscious effort not to.

We haven’t cut all ties, of course. He still calls at least once a week, checking in and giving me updates on Lily. And we text back and forth sometimes, just short messages to say hello; have a nice week; hope things are going well.

But I scrutinize all of my interactions with him now, careful not to let things slip the way I did this spring. I’m friendly, but not overly. Interested in their lives, but I keep my distance. No one could accuse me of anything improper.

I’ve especially made sure to curb my references to him when I talk to Johanna. Every now and then she asks how “Blondie” is, or inquires about Lily, but I keep my answers to a minimum, and I never initiate conversation about them.

I won’t make that mistake again.

*-*-*-*

I find myself scowling more than smiling as the weeks pass. The summer weather is unforgiving, which doesn’t help my mood. It’s the hottest summer on record in over a decade, and week after week goes by without any sign of it breaking. The air is heavy and stagnant, no breezes to help alleviate the torture.

The humidity makes everything sticky, and I start wearing my hair in a braid regularly just to keep it off my neck. My old house doesn’t have central air conditioning, just a window unit in the bedroom. Cool showers help, but even in the short walk down the hall from the bathroom, I become coated in a new layer of sweat. I spend most of my free time holed up in my room, reading or watching movies while trying to escape the heat.

I’m a solitary creature, but the loneliness starts to get to me. I convince Madge to join me in an extra yoga class from time to time, taking advantage of the cool facilities while trying to center my thoughts. In exchange, she talks me into going to the beach with her, but the combination of the weekend crowds and the unrelenting heat make the trip short and unpleasant.

My one saving grace is work. Since I used all of my vacation time in the winter, I’m the only employee not taking time off this summer. I end up covering for nearly everyone else when they take their own vacations, which keeps me busy and distracted. I throw myself into the job, grateful for the long days to keep my mind occupied.

*-*-*-*

Peeta has been great about posting pictures and videos of Lily to Facebook. He never tags or mentions me in the posts, but something tells me he’s doing it mainly for my sake. I check his page a couple of times a day, just in case my newsfeed doesn’t alert me to something new. I don’t want to miss anything important.

One evening before bed, I get out my laptop to check in. Peeta hasn’t posted a new update, so I decide replay the last video he posted. It’s Lily, sitting in her high chair, singing. Well – something that passes as singing for a toddler. She starts with a song that sounds like “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”, bobbing her head back and forth happily with the tune. Occasionally, Peeta picks up the words from behind the camera, his deep voice encouraging her along. When they finish, she claps happily, and Peeta gives a cheerful, “Yay!”

Peeta starts the next song for her, her face lighting up at the familiar tune. I smile again at his strong – though completely off tune – attempt at Lily’s lullaby. She hums along, squealing and clapping occasionally, and harmonizing with him at the end. “Naa nah… love… you. Yay!!”

The video ends. I wipe a tear from my eye as I stare at Lily’s happy expression. She looks so much like Prim, but there’s also something in her smile that has become all Peeta to me.

I scroll further down Peeta’s page and catch a notification I hadn’t seen before.

Glimmer Abbott added four new photos. Tuesday at 7:02 PM
Playdate with our besties! - with Peeta Mellark

I reread the post again, slowly absorbing the information. Abbott. I guess Glimmer’s divorce finally went through.

I click through and study the photos carefully. The first is of Lily and another blond toddler playing in a sandbox wearing big floppy sunhats. “Lily and Charlotte soaking up the summer sun!” A close-up of each girl follows. Charlotte has a wide grin in hers, obviously hamming it up for the lens already.

I stare at the picture of Lily for a moment, overcome with her beauty. Glimmer must have an amazing camera, because you can see every last freckle on Lily’s nose as it crinkles up in what I could only call a scowl. That’s my girl, I think with a chuckle.

The last picture nearly takes my breath away. It’s Peeta, sitting in a lounge chair with his eyes directed slightly off camera, probably at the girls. Despite all the pictures he’s sent me of Lily, this is the first time I’ve seen him since he left. He’s got a small smile on his face, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. The shadows are back, and he looks exhausted.

I finally decide I’ve stared at the picture too long, so I close the browser and put the laptop away. I turn on my side and tuck into myself, trying to get comfortable and get some rest. I can only hope somewhere across the country, Peeta is doing the same.

*-*-*-*

Over the next few weeks, I check Peeta’s page religiously. Glimmer posts a few more updates that give me an insight into their lives I don’t get from Peeta’s check-ins. Sometimes it's just a status update.

“Love spending time with good friends! - with Peeta Mellark”

But usually there are photos to go with it. One afternoon, she posts a beautiful picture of Peeta and Lily that I immediately save to my phone. Lily is sitting in his lap, holding a toy up to show him, and he’s looking down at her with so much love in his eyes.

But there’s one photo I could do without: a selfie Glimmer took of just her and Peeta. She’s squeezed in tight, all cleavage and lipstick, and has one arm wrapped around him as she holds the camera with the other. Something about the image makes my stomach turn.

*-*-*-*

Finally, there seems a light at the end of the tunnel. The summer heat begins to cool and I finally feel like I can breathe again.  And in August, I get a phone call that raises my spirits.

Annie is traveling on business and will be nearby in early September. We’ve kept in touch since I left Colorado, and I really enjoy her friendship. We make plans to meet for dinner and catch up. As excited as I am to see her, I can’t help but admit a part of me is happy for this direct connection to my loved ones in Denver.

Annie’s staying in Hartford, about an hour away from me, so we choose a restaurant midway between both of us. I arrive a little early, so I wait at the bar until she comes in, looking around hopefully until she spots me. We share a smile and I hop down from my bar stool to meet her.

“Katniss.” She folds me into a hug. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“You, too, Annie.” I give the hostess our name and she leads us to our table, a quiet booth in a corner.

“So how have you been?” she asks, sliding in and putting her bag down beside her. “Did you have a good summer?”

“I guess,” I say with a shrug. “Work kept me pretty busy.”

“Did you take any vacations?”

I shake my head. “No, I used up all of my vacation time this winter when I decided to stay longer in Denver.”

“Oh, right,” she says with a nod. “Do you… regret that now?”

“No,” I answer without hesitation. “No. I’m glad I was able to spend that time with them.”

Annie gives me a warm smile. “I’m glad you were, too.”

We chat amiably over our drinks and meal. It’s a comfortable reunion and we catch up pretty quickly.

Annie is a proud mama who shares stories of how big Dylan has gotten. Finnick's been taking him for swim lessons at the local YMCA and, like his father, he took to the water like a fish. “The only downside is he misses playgroup lately, since the classes overlap. But we try to have playdates with Peeta and Lily to make up for it.”

The mention of playdates reminds me of my Facebook ... research. "Do you have playdates with anyone else?" I ask, trying to sound casual. "Like with Glimmer and her daughter?"

Annie rolls her eyes dramatically. "Please. That woman stooping to a playdate? No way. Not unless there’s something in it for her."

I nearly choke on my bite. I grab my glass of water and take a big drink while Annie eyes me suspiciously. "Are you okay, Katniss?"

I look at Annie debating how to respond. I decide to confide in her. She's become a good friend, and she's one of the only people who knows Glimmer personally and can understand my concerns.

I tell her what I saw on Facebook: the playdates, the comments about Peeta, and the selfies. By now there have been three, each one more irritating than the last. "I don't know, Annie. It just worries me. Peeta and Lily have been through a lot this past year. I don't want to see anyone taking advantage of them. Especially after-" I stop, not sure how much to say.

Annie's been watching me talk, her lips pursed and a slight frown on her brow. "Especially after what?" she encourages gently.

I shrug, struggling with my thoughts. Annie seems to understand and places her hand on top of mine on the table. "Katniss, if it helps at all, Peeta is a strong man, and Lily is his number one priority, almost to a fault. He would never let anyone hurt her."

I mull over her words. Almost to a fault. “How is he?” I ask quietly.

She reaches for her wine glass and takes a sip. “He’s okay. You know Peeta, he doesn’t like to ask for help or bother anyone. Finnick and I try to have dinner with them a couple of times a month, and we offer to take Lily so he can have some time for himself. But he doesn’t like to let that little girl out of his sight.”

“I know.” I remember his nightmares, his fear of losing her.

“Those playdates...” she begins. “I’m sure they’re harmless. I think - it’s like they’re another way for Peeta to try to give Lily everything. Time with friends. Different settings. New experiences.”

“With Glimmer,” I add sarcastically.

Annie frowns. “I admit, I’m not fond of Glimmer either, but… do you really think she’s a problem?”

I don’t want to bring up old gossip, but I’m not sure how else to explain my concerns. “Do you… remember… that shopping trip we took?” Annie nods, waiting for me to continue. She listens with wide eyes as I explain Glimmer’s conversation with Clove, her predatory tone when talking about Peeta.

“Wow,” she replies when I finally finish. “I knew she was shallow and self-centered, but I didn’t realize how conniving she was. Going after a man who’d just lost his wife? That’s low.”

I bite my lip. I told her almost everything, but I did leave out a few key details. “Well… she said… that …” I sigh, tired of holding onto these secrets. “That it wasn’t a real marriage. That Prim and Peeta’s whole relationship was a scam, and that they only got married because of Lily.”

“Wow,” Annie repeats. She sits back against her booth, her face sad but not really surprised.

“I just think…” I pick at my roll. “She must be pretty cold-hearted and evil to make up such ridiculous lies. Right?”

“That is strange,” Annie agrees carefully. Something in her expression makes me wonder if she knows more than she’s saying.

“Annie… you don’t think it’s true, do you? That it was all a lie? That they weren’t really in love?”

“I wouldn’t put stock into anything that woman says,” she says after a moment. “From everything I saw, I am sure that Prim and Peeta loved each other very much.”

“I know,” I say. “When Prim first told me about Peeta, she gushed about him. Told me how wonderful he was, how much I’d love him… And Peeta’s only ever talked about how special Prim was, too.”

Annie nods.

“And… I’m sure he has been lonely since he lost Prim. I don’t want Glimmer coming in and taking advantage of that loneliness. He deserves better than that.”

“He does,” Annie says with a small smile. “But I wouldn’t worry about Glimmer, Katniss. Peeta’s definitely not interested in her. And he knows how two-faced she can be. He’s smart enough to be careful around her.”

“Yeah?” I ask, relieved.

“Definitely,” Annie reassures me. She reaches for the small menu on the edge of the table. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I could go for some dessert. Want to share?”

With my mind eased, I feel a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. “Dessert sounds great,” I say, leaning forward to look at the menu she’s holding out. “But only if we get something chocolate.”

*-*-*-*

Late the next evening, the sound of my ringtone pulls me from a deep sleep.

Disoriented, I first confuse it with my alarm, but finally, I realize the phone is ringing. In the dark, I fumble on my end table to find the phone where it’s charging. I glance at the time before answering; it’s after 3 AM.

“Hello?” I ask, my voice hoarse and raspy.

“Katniss? She’s sick. Lily’s sick.”

“Peeta?” His voice is hushed and panicked. I sit straight up in bed, wide awake now, and turn on the lamp. “What’s going on? Where – what do you –”

“She’s sick! I don’t know, the doctors are with her now. They made me leave the room. They said I was upsetting her and they needed to focus and do their work – but she’s got to be so scared! She’s all alone in there!”

“Shhh...” His voice is getting higher, and I know I need to help him calm down if he’s going to be of any use to Lily now. “Peeta, it’s okay. I’m sure the doctors are doing their very best. Who’s there with you?”

“No one,” he explains. “It’s just us.”

I think of him, all alone there in the waiting room. “Is there anyone local you can call? Maybe Finnick?”

“No, he’s home alone with Dylan.” I’d forgotten that Annie was still on her business trip, spending the rest of the week in Boston. “Besides, I wouldn’t do that to him. And everyone else is asleep - like you probably were. God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think… I just didn’t know who else to call.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m glad you called me, Peeta. We’re family, remember?”

He doesn’t answer. From the sound of his breathing, I assume he’s pacing. I decide to distract him so his mind doesn’t start to wander. “Why don’t you just talk to me while you wait? Tell me what happened.”

He sighs, and sounds like he’s trying to compose himself. “I don’t really know. She had a slight fever this afternoon, but she gets those sometimes, when she’s teething or gets a cold from another kid in the play group. You know?”

I make a sound of encouragement, waiting for him to continue.

“But then, when I got her ready for bed, she was so listless! She could barely hold onto Lady, she was… her muscles were so weak. And she was burning up… I just … I got worried, I called the doctor and they told me I should bring her down to the ER just in case.” He makes a sniffing noise. “And then when they had her on the table here, she started shaking and they said it might be a seizure? That’s when I lost it and they made me come out here.”

I can hear him breaking down, and my eyes well up for them both.

“She just looked so small, Katniss,” he murmurs. “I don’t know what I would do if-”

“No.” I cut him off before he can even start thinking like that. “Hey – what’s Denver like in the fall?”

“What?” he asks, clearly taken off guard by my sudden change of topic.

“The foliage. Is it like when you were in Boston? Lots of colors? I bet it’s really pretty out there with the mountains and all.”

“Uh. Yeah. It’s… it’s similar. I guess.”

“Tell me about it.”

“What?” he asks again. “Katniss, I don’t understand…”

“Tell me about the colors, Peeta. I bet they’re beautiful. The leaves will be changing soon. You’ll have to take Lily out to see it all. She’ll love it.”

He’s quiet on the other end of the line for a beat. “Yeah. She will,” he softly replies.

I give him a moment, then prompt him again. “So go ahead. Tell me about the colors.”

Peeta speaks for a few minutes about the autumn colors; the golds and reds and deep oranges exploding around you. He describes the way the leaves look as the sun hits them at dusk, how the mountains loom around you and the way a nearby lake reflects the bright colors back like glass.

“It sounds lovely,” I breathe. It does. The way Peeta spins words, I can practically see it.

“It is,” he agrees. “But honestly, there are lovelier sights back east. Nothing compares with the beauty of a New England autumn. Sometimes I think-”

Before he can finish, I can hear voices in the background. Peeta turns away from the phone for a moment to talk to them. “Yes, I – yes, thank you…” He lets out a sigh and moves back to the phone. “Katniss?”

“Yes?”

“She’s stable, so they’re letting me back in now.”

“That’s great news, Peeta.”

“It is. I can’t have my phone on in there…” he explains.

“I understand. Will you call me soon? Keep me posted? Any time of day.”

“I will,” he says. “Thank you so much, Katniss.”

I hang up and lay back in bed. It’s too early to get up for work, but I know I won’t be able to sleep. My heart is thousands of miles away in a hospital room. And there’s absolutely nothing I can do about that.

*-*-*-*

It’s early afternoon before Peeta calls me again.

I’m home at my kitchen table when the call finally comes. I tried to work in the morning, but I was a basket case, checking my phone every few minutes. Finally, Johanna told me just to take off. She handed me a stack of paperwork that needed to be organized so that I could justify working from home the rest of the afternoon.

“Peeta! I was so worried!” I don’t mean to let my emotions show, but my nerves have finally gotten the better of me. “How is she?”

“I’m so sorry, Katniss. They don’t allow cell phones in the special care unit, and I didn’t want to leave her. But we’ve moved to a regular room now.  She’s doing so much better.”

“Thank god,” I breathe. “What about the seizure?”

“They said they’re really common when kids her age get high fevers. I just need to watch her as she gets older, and be aware in case it happens again. But her temperature’s finally down, and she was able to eat some toast this morning. The doctors say she should make a full recovery. She’s really going to be okay.” He’s tired, but I can hear the joy in his voice.

He fills me on the details of her illness – some apparently common virus I don’t recognize – and the medications they’ve prescribed. Then he lets me “talk” to her. He puts the phone on speaker and I do most of the talking, but I can hear her laugh a couple of times. I’m just so relieved she’s feeling better; I don’t even mind the one-sided conversation.

Lily takes a nap shortly after, and Peeta moves to a quiet corner in her room. We talk for a while, chit chat mostly, but neither one of us seems to make an effort to hang up. I hate the fact that he’s sitting in that hospital room alone; a part of me just wants to keep him company for as long as possible.

Peeta’s describing Lily’s lunch options when he stops to greet someone in the room. “Sorry, I should probably go,” he says, returning to the phone. “Lily has a visitor.”

“Finnick?” I ask, assuming he got a sitter for Dylan so he could check on Peeta.

“Uh, no,” he says sheepishly. “Actually, it’s Glimmer Roberts. I mean – Abbott.”

“Oh.” I wonder if that one syllable sounds as crestfallen to him as it does to my own ears. “Well, that’s nice of her to visit Lily. I’ll let you guys catch up.”

“Katniss –” Peeta begins, but I don’t let him continue.

“Keep me posted on Lily. Please let me know if anything changes.”

“Of course. Thank you again, Katniss. For … for being there.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Peeta. I’ll always be there for you and Lily. Always.”

*-*-*-*

Lily is discharged later that evening.  Peeta sends me an image of her sitting on his bed surrounded by stuffed animals. I smile and text a light-hearted warning that he just might run the risk of spoiling her. He sends back a teasing text that there’s nothing wrong with a little chocolate cake for dinner now and then.

Over the next few weeks, we stay in closer contact via texts and quick phone calls; we even resume our video chats again. No matter what happened between us, it feels so good to have him back in my life again. It reminds me of this winter, before … well, before.

One Monday morning in early October, my phone lights up with a text from Peeta. I’m at work, so I quickly dismiss it without reading before Johanna can see. I excuse myself to the bathroom to read it in private.

Peeta (sent 10:13 AM): Happy Monday. :) Was wondering if you could skype tonight? There are some things I want to talk about.

What things could he want to talk about? Maybe there’s something going on with Lily. Maybe she’s been sick again? Or… I wonder if he wants to talk about this past spring; find out why I pushed him away, why I acted so distant for most of the summer.

Or maybe -

I have a sudden thought that turns my stomach: maybe he wants to talk about his relationship with Glimmer. What if they’re dating now? What if he wants to give me the courtesy of telling me personally, since I’m Prim’s sister?

I’m not sure I’m ready for that conversation.

I look into the mirror and realize I’m scowling. This is ridiculous. I have no reason to believe Peeta would decide to start dating Glimmer. Annie insisted he didn’t have feelings for her, didn’t she? I’m just going to have to trust that for now.

I push down my concerns and type back a quick reply. Madge and I have a yoga class tonight, so I ask him to call at 9:00. I shove my phone into my pocket, smooth out my scowl and head back to my desk to try to get back to work.

*-*-*-*

“How was yoga?” Peeta asks. I recognize his bedroom in the background and realize that he’s reclining on his bed just like I am.

“It was good. Thanks.” I brush my damp hair off my shoulder and tuck my legs into myself. “How was your evening? Did Lily go down without a fight?”

“More or less,” Peeta chuckles. “She’s definitely starting to show her stubborn side as she gets older.”

I smile. “Prim never wanted to go to bed as a kid, either. Lily is probably afraid she’s going to miss out on something interesting.”

“Well, there are lots of exciting things that happen around here after bedtime,” Peeta agrees. “Things like washing dishes and paying bills. Quite the nightlife she’s missing out on.”

"How have you been?" I ask with a chuckle. "Other than your exciting nightlife, of course."

He gives me a wry smile and shrugs. "I've been better," he finally admits.

"Well, it can't be easy, everything you went through with Lily in the hospital."

Peeta scrunches his eyes a bit and musses his curls. "Yeah, but... that wasn't really what I meant."

I straighten up. “Oh. Okay. So… what did you mean?”

He looks away for a moment, then turns his focus on the screen again. His blue eyes crinkle as he gathers his thoughts. “I meant… that things have been pretty lonely out here.”

“Oh.” My voice cracks in my ear. Something in his tone is making my heart race. This is it. He’s been lonely, and he’s decided to start seeing Glimmer. “Well, Peeta, it’s been almost a year since Prim passed away. It’s only natural that you’d feel that way.”

He studies the screen, his eyes passing over my face. “So you understand then?”

I knew it. He’s looking for my permission. I feel my cheeks flaming and can only hope the dim light in my bedroom is hiding it. “Of course. And I’m sure that… you and Glimmer have been getting closer these past few months. You’re both young and single-”

“Wait – what does Glimmer have to do with this?” he interrupts, his expression baffled.

“I’m just saying… the two of you have been spending a lot of time together. It’s understandable that you’d start to develop feelings for her-”

“Katniss, no,” he interrupts again, both hands raised to stop me. “I do not have feelings for Glimmer Roberts.”

I feel a smile come to my face, but bite my lip to stop it. “Abbott,” I say softly.

“Whoever,” he says with a laugh. “I can assure you I’m not interested in either one of them.”

“You’re not?” I ask. I’m not really sure why I need him to reassure me in this moment, but I do.

“I’m not,” he says gently, cocking his head. “Would that really be okay with you?”

“Sure,” I reply, fighting back the “no” inside me. “I just want you to be happy, Peeta.”

“Hmm…” he hums, rubbing at the scruff on his cheeks. “Katniss…  Did I ever tell you that autumn is my favorite season?” he finally asks.

“Autumn?” I repeat, confused. “Um, no. You didn’t.”

“That night at the hospital, when you got me talking about the colors and the foliage, it reminded me of a few things. How much I love this time of year. And how much I want to share it with Lily. It gave me something to cling to when all I could think about was how scared I was.”

“That’s great, Peeta.”

“But, it also reminded me of something else.” His lips quirk up in a shy smile. “It reminded me of how much I love just… talking to you.”

“Me?” His words catch me off guard. I’m no conversationalist like he is. Why would anyone want to talk to me? “Why?” I murmur.

“Katniss, over this past year… you’ve become a really important part of my life. Of both of our lives,” he adds quickly.

“You guys are an important part of my life, too,” I agree.

“These past few months have been difficult. I know it’s partly me adjusting to life as a single father. But it’s more than that. I felt like… you and I built something. A real friendship. And then suddenly, it was gone. And I missed it, so much. I thought we made a great team,” he says with a rueful chuckle.

“We do,” I insist quietly. “And I missed it, too.”

“And, other than Finnick and Annie, I don’t have any real connections out here. No other family. I realized… I want a family for Lily. I want her to know you. Really know you. Not just visit with you once or twice a year, but have you in her life all the time. For the little things, like the school play, or her first haircut; and the bigger things, like when she gets sick or needs a woman to talk to as she gets older.” His voice drops. “She already lost her mom. I don’t want her to miss out on anything else.”

My eyes well up as I nod mutely in understanding. I love Lily, with all my heart, and it’s been killing me to be separated from her, too.

“So, I was thinking… since you’ve got a life and roots in Connecticut, and we’ve really got nothing keeping us in Denver… maybe it makes sense for us… to move out there.” He pauses, a worried look on his face. “What do you think?”

“Yes!” I breathe happily, not even bothering to hold back my excited grin. “But – are you sure? You’d move all the way out here, leave Finnick and Annie, and Mags?”

His face relaxes into a relieved smile. “Definitely. I can still visit with them from time to time. But they aren’t my family, now. You are.”

My mind is racing with plans; I’ll have to clean the house, move some furniture around to make room for Lily’s crib again – but Peeta interrupts my thoughts.

“Of course, I want you to know that we won’t impose on you again. I’ll stay in a hotel until I can find an apartment for us. I don’t want to cause any problems for you like I did this spring.”

“Problems? No, Peeta-”

“Katniss, I insist. I know it doesn’t look good, me coming in and mooching off of you, staying in your house and using your car like that… I don’t want anyone to think I’m taking advantage of your kindness or generosity. And I won’t be clingy like last time, I promise. I wasn’t thinking straight, and I let my guard down too much. I won’t let that happen again.”

Is that what he believes happened – that I was bothered by him? That he was too clingy? When in reality, I know it was me who was becoming too dependent on him, too needy of his time and affection.

“Peeta, you were fine. I don’t want you to change a thing. I just got scared, and worried too much about what people think. But you didn’t do anything wrong, I swear. I want you and Lily to stay with me, at least until you find an apartment. Please.”

He tries to argue with me, but I’m insistent. Finally, he begrudgingly agrees to stay with me, but for no more than two weeks. He tentatively makes plans to come out in a few weeks for the housing search, and he’ll figure out the move of his furniture and personal effects sometime after.

“I hope you’re really okay with this, Katniss,” he says as we prepare to end the call. “Promise me, you’ll let me know if I ever get to be a nuisance?”

“I don’t think that’s possible, Peeta,” I reply honestly. “I’m really looking forward to seeing you both again,” I add.

“I’m really looking forward to seeing you, too,” he says. “Maybe we’ll even get there in time for Lily to get a little taste of a New England autumn.”

“Maybe,” I agree with a smile.

We hang up with promises to talk soon about the details. For the first time in months, I’m excited about the future, and anxious to bring my family back together once again.

Chapter Text

“So, Peeta, how’s the apartment hunting going?” Haymitch asks, grabbing his wine glass and leaning back into his chair.

This dinner was his idea. Ever since he got Peeta and Lily from the airport last week, he’s been pushing me to set up a night for us all to get together. He seems to have a genuine affection for Peeta based on the number of times he asked about him these past few months. The feelings are apparently mutual; I found out recently that Peeta called Haymitch periodically, too, just to check in on him.

I’m not sure why it bothers me to learn they carried on a relationship behind my back, but somehow it feels like a betrayal.

“Any luck?” Haymitch prods.

“No,” Peeta answers with a sigh. “There aren’t a lot of options available, and for some reason,” he quirks his head in my direction, “everything I’ve found has been vetoed.”

I place my dish into the sink and spin briskly to face the two men, folding my arms across my chest. “Well, excuse me for wanting the best for my niece!”

Peeta gives me a pointed look. “I suppose a community pool and playground don’t qualify as ‘the best’ around here?”

“Funny, I never took you for a primadonna, sweetheart,” Haymitch chuckles.

“Please,” I scoff. “That pool was a death trap. What if Lily got out and wandered around the grounds? And I’m pretty sure I saw someone dealing drugs near the swings.”

“Seriously, Katniss?” Peeta asks incredulously. Haymitch smirks at me, holding back laughter.

“Yeah. Maybe,” I mumble, turning my back to them to wash the dishes. I can’t stand looking at either one of their smug faces right now.

Peeta laughs. “Well, that place wasn’t ideal anyway. They only had a one-bedroom available, and there’s at least a six month wait for a two-bedroom. Seems to be a bit of a trend around here; it was the same story at the other two places we saw.”

“This far outside of the city, apartment buildings are in short supply,” Haymitch agrees.  “Lots of competition.”

“That’s why Katniss was kind enough to hook me up with a realtor,” Peeta explains. He’s trying to get back on my good side now.

“Oh yeah? Who?” Haymitch asks. “In a town this small, I’m sure I know them.”

“Delly Cartwright,” Peeta answers, leading to another fit of laughter from Haymitch.

I turn around and repeat my earlier stance with my arms folded tighter across my chest. “What is your problem now, old man?”

“Hoo-hoo.” Haymitch wipes at the corner of his eye with the back of his hand. “You fixed him up with Delly? Perky, perpetually-hunting-for-a-husband Delly Cartwright?” He waves a hand in Peeta’s direction. “Look at him! He doesn’t stand a chance!”

“I did not fix him up,” I say through gritted teeth. “I made him an appointment with a professional. Delly is not that bad, Haymitch. Give her some credit.”

Peeta is looking between the two of us warily. “Should I be concerned here?”

“No!” I answer at the same time as Haymitch’s booming “Yes!”

“No,” I emphasize, giving Haymitch a death stare. “Delly is a lovely girl and one of the best realtors in the area. If anyone can help you find the right place, it’s her.”

“Oh, she’ll find a place for you all right,” Haymitch says with a laugh. “Right next to her in bed!”

“God, Haymitch! Can you be any more of a pig?” I exclaim, pushing off the counter and heading toward the hall. “It’s been a long day. I’m going to bed.” Peeta starts to rise, but I wave him off. “Don’t stop your little visit on my account. You two should be very happy without me interrupting.”

I head up the stairs, ignoring Peeta as he calls to me from the kitchen.

I’m seriously rethinking this whole moving idea right now.

*-*-*-*

“Peeta, it’s so good to meet you!” Delly speaks as if every sentence has an exclamation point or emoji at the end of it.

“Same here,” Peeta replies, offering a hand for her to shake.

Delly pushes his hand aside and pulls him in for a hug. Even though I’m holding Lily, I feel my muscles stiffen. “We’re all friends here! No need for formalities!” she insists as she pulls back, her hands still resting on his biceps.

She looks over in my direction, her hands squeezing his arms slightly. “And this – is this Lily?” she gasps. “She is precious! So beautiful!”

“Thank you,” Peeta replies proudly. “She definitely favors her mother.”

Delly swats at one of his arms playfully, still clinging to the other. “Now, don’t be modest. She is the spitting image of Prim, but I see a lot of you in her features, too.” Peeta just shrugs. “Like these curls!” she says, ruffling the top of his head.

I clear my throat loudly. “Hi, Delly,” I interrupt, causing her to meet my eyes for the first time.

“Oh, Katniss!” she pulls Lily and I into a group hug. “How rude of me! I’m so sorry! I’m just so excited to finally meet your niece and brother-in-law!” I force a smile that is probably more of a grimace as she releases us. “Especially after hearing about you both so much!” she continues, touching Peeta’s arm again. “Katniss couldn’t say enough nice things about you!”

I study her, puzzled. I have no idea what she’s talking about. Delly and I went to school together, but we’ve never really run in the same circles. I saw her exactly three times this year -  twice at the grocery store and once at the gym – and my side of the conversations was most definitely sparse.

She grabs my free hand and one of Peeta’s and pulls us both closer to her. “Now. Let’s get started!”

Most of our visit is spent on paperwork. Delly documents everything Peeta is looking for in a place, including number of bedrooms, neighborhood preferences, even how many flights of stairs he’s willing to climb. She also goes over his preferred price point and reviews his tax statements and evidence of income.

Half an hour later, we’ve all grown weary with the process, especially Lily, who is whining and throwing herself sideways in my arms.

“Oh, the poor thing! This can’t be fun for her!” Delly coos.

I heft Lily up on my shoulder and try to rock her a bit. “It’s getting close to her naptime.”

“Well, I got all the information that I needed, so I won’t keep you. I’ve got your list of must-haves, and all the financials seem to be in order. By tomorrow, I’ll have some showings lined up and we can get things rolling!”

*-*-*-*

The sound of a key in the lock pulls me from my thoughts. Peeta’s voice drifts down the hall, calling my name.

“In here,” I call back. I glance down at the text on my phone one more time before dismissing the notification.

Peeta peers around the corner and smiles when he sees me on the couch. He comes in and flops down beside me, letting out a big sigh.

“Who knew apartment hunting could be such a physical job?” he says, bending over to untie his sneakers. “I’m glad you offered to stay home with Lily. It would have been miserable, dragging her around all day. How is she?”

“Napping,” I reply, rubbing at a spot on my neck. “But she fought it. I didn’t realize how heavy she’d gotten these past few months. She’s pretty strong when she’s mad!”

Peeta laughs. “She’s stubborn, that’s for sure. I think she gets it from her mother’s side of the family.” I give him a scowl, only making him laugh harder. “Turn around,” he says, and moves closer to me on the couch.

“Hmm?”

“Your neck. I might be able to help with that. Years of kneading experience,” he says, waving his fingers in the air.

“You don’t have to-”

“I insist,” he says. “You took care of my daughter all afternoon, and hurt yourself in the process. It’s the least I could do. C’mere.”

Reluctantly, I turn around. I’m still not used to someone offering to take care of me after all these years. I start to protest again when I feel his hands gently move my hair over my shoulder. The sensation sends shivers down my spine, silencing me instantly.

His hands begin working at my neck and shoulders, his fingers putting gentle but firm pressure on my tender muscles. “So how did it go today?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Pretty well,” he replies. “Delly is great. She really got to know what I’m looking for in a home, and kept us focused.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah – hey, try to relax,” he says, rubbing at a point in my shoulder. “You’re tensing up.”

“Sorry,” I mumble.

“Anyway, she discouraged me from looking at apartment complexes. There aren’t many around, and they just didn’t match up with my list of requirements. So we saw a few multi-family homes, and a couple of condos.”

“What’d you think of them?” I close my eyes and let myself relax into his hands.

“Eh, they were okay.” He moves his thumbs to the base of my neck and works the muscles there. “Nothing I loved. They did help me refine my rules; a third floor apartment is not going to be ideal with Lily, a stroller, and a couple of bags of groceries.”

“True.”

“Plus some of them were just too far away,” he says, adjusting his hands again.

“How far away?”

“Half an hour or more. I told her I really wanted to stay closer to you, if possible. So she said she’d keep looking.” He stops massaging for a moment. “I hope that’s okay.”

I look over my shoulder at him; his eyes study me carefully. “Of course it’s okay! I don’t want you guys to be that far away either.”

“Yeah, but it’ll probably extend our search. We’ve already imposed on you past the two week limit I promised.”

“Peeta,” I reply softly. “I told you before: I want you and Lily to stay with me. You aren’t imposing. This is a big decision. I don’t want you to rush it.”

He studies me a little longer. “Okay,” he says finally, nodding reluctantly. “If you say so.”

“I say so,” I say with a firm nod. He smiles and places his hands on my head, turning it gently to face away from him. I turn and close my eyes, letting his fingers work their magic.

“Mmm…” I can’t help but let out a moan when Peeta hits a particularly sore spot. “Right there, Peeta.”

“Ahem.” He pauses for just a moment, then continues to work the knot out. “Right… um, right there?”

“Yes,” I say quietly. “That feels so good.” He makes a strangled sound behind me and my eyes fly open. I turn to find him staring at me, his hands frozen in midair. “Peeta? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just… did you hear Lily?” His voice cracks slightly.

“No,” I reply, listening carefully but hearing nothing in the silent house. “Are you sure?”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure. I mean, I definitely – maybe I should check? I don’t want her to sleep too long anyway… screw up her bedtime and all – I just – yeah.” He stands up mid-ramble and leaves the room.

I’m left watching him retreat toward the stairs, trying to figure out what I did wrong.

*-*-*-*

“Feel like lunch outside today?”

I look up from my computer to find Johanna leaning against the cubicle wall, her lunch bag slung over her shoulder. Guilt washes over me as I see the hopeful look in her eyes; I’ve been avoiding her lately.

“Sure,” I say with a smile. “Let me just get my stuff.”

The air is crisp but refreshing. While most of the trees have dropped their leaves, there’s a large maple tree at the back of the property that is full and golden, adding a brightness to the area. I slide in to the table across from Johanna and pull the thermos from my lunch bag.

“What’ve you got?” she asks. “Anything’s got to be better than my two-days-til-payday tuna sandwich.”

“Stew,” I answer simply.

She squints at me suspiciously. “What kind of stew?”

“Ah. Just… lamb,” I mumble.

“Lamb? You made lamb stew?” she asks, raising one perfectly manicured eyebrow.

She knows. But I’m not going to let her get to me this time.

“No,” I reply, squaring my shoulders. “Peeta did.”

She gives me a shit-eating grin and points a finger at me triumphantly. “I knew it!”

“Knew what?” I ask with a scowl.

“I knew that Lover Boy was in town again. You finally lost that mopey ‘I lost my puppy dog’ look you’ve been wearing all summer.”

I roll my eyes and dig into my stew. “Whatever, Jo.”

“Don’t ‘whatever’ me. It’s true. Did anyone ever tell you that you have the world’s worst poker face? You wear your heart all over your sleeve, Brainless. Especially when it comes to him. Anyone paying attention could see how much you care about him.”

“Are we going to do this again, Jo? Because I’m really not in the mood. Why don’t you save it for the next time you and your little boyfriend get together?”

Something flashes across her face and she starts to unpack her lunch, avoiding my eyes. “Well that would be difficult,” she scoffs, “seeing as I don’t have a boyfriend.”

I’m taken aback. “What? I thought you and Gale-”

“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly fond of dating guys who are hung up on other girls,” she says, cutting me off. “We haven’t seen each other in weeks.”

“Oh, Jo, I’m sorry,” I say, my bravado falling away. “I didn’t realize.”

She shrugs. “Yeah. Well.”

“Was he seeing someone else?”

“Not exactly,” she says with a smirk. “I don’t think she even realizes he’s in love with her.”

“Well, he’s an asshole,” I declare.

“Yeah. He is,” she says with a laugh. “Enough about him. Tell me more about Blondie. Have you two started knocking boots yet?”

“God! Johanna!” She chuckles and takes a big bite of her sandwich. “I’ve told you a million times: we’re just friends.”

“Katniss.” Johanna puts her sandwich down and levels me with a serious look. “He clearly cares about you. And I’ve known you for seven years now. No one else has ever put a smile on your face like he does. Can you honestly tell me you don’t feel anything for him?”

“I –” A lump forms in my throat. Johanna’s blunt nature is no surprise, but the piercing look she’s giving me is; she’s no longer joking or trying to tease me. She’s speaking from the heart.

A thousand images float through my head. Peeta smiling at me from across the room. Peeta holding me in bed after a nightmare. Peeta holding Lily.

Then other images. Prim holding Lily. Peeta and Prim, smiling together in a selfie.

I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter how I might feel,” I reply. “He’s not mine to have. He belongs to Prim.”

“What?” Johanna asks. “Is that what’s stopping you? Prim?”

“She was his wife, Jo. There’s a code between sisters-”

“She’s dead,” she blurts out. “Whatever ‘code’ might have existed is null and void. You can’t stop living just because she’s gone. Especially after everything she did to you.”

I’m stunned by her outburst, and feeling defensive on my sister’s behalf. “What do you know about it? Just because she’s gone doesn’t mean she’s forgotten! You don’t just throw all those years away of loving someone.”

“I know a lot about it, okay?!” Johanna bites back. Her eyes are wet and shining; she’s clearly hurting. In seven years of friendship, she’s never once talked about her family; her parents or siblings. Whenever the topic has come up, she changed the subject. I took the hint, never pushing her for information. Now I wonder if perhaps Johanna is more familiar with loss than I realized.

“Listen,” she continues, more composed. “Of course, you don’t forget them, but you can’t let memories of them run your life. You deserve to be selfish once in a while and think of your own needs.” She shrugs. “There's no going back, so we might as well get on with things.”

I swallow, trying to process her advice. “I just don’t know. They were in love. They had a child together. And I – I don’t see how I can ever let that go. We’re friends. That’s all we’ll ever be.”

“Whatever,” she scoffs with a shake of her head. “If you want to play the martyr, that’s your choice. Me, I can’t live that way. Life’s too short.” She studies me for a moment, then lets out a sigh and reaches for her lunchbag. “Now, I am PMS’ing like a fiend, so I need to find some chocolate.”

And with that announcement, the moment is over.

*-*-*-*

“Delly just texted me. They’re around the corner.”

My friends take heed, gathering in a clump in the living room. “You think he has any clue, sweetheart?” Haymitch asks.

“I don’t think so. Delly told him she had a great prospect to show him. When she picked him up, I invited her to stop by for coffee when they were done. He didn’t seem suspicious at all.”

“I see them!” Madge calls out from her post by the window.

I shift nervously as Peeta unlocks the front door. Will he be upset? I can hear Delly chatting away through the glass. “Sorry again, Peeta. I guess I’m not on my game today. I’ll definitely do better next time.”

“It’s fine, Delly. We’ll find the right-”

“SURPRISE!”

Peeta is cut off mid-sentence by our group. I watch as his face shifts from shock to confusion, finally flushing with happiness as he takes in the decorated room and stack of gifts.

“What-?” he takes in all of the friendly faces around him, moving forward to shake Haymitch’s hand and pull Madge in for a hug. He smiles over at Johanna and Kevin Blight, her date for the evening, before leveling an exaggerated frown at Delly. “Is this why we went to see that ridiculous houseboat today?”

“Sorry, Peeta!” she says with a giggle. “I needed to get you out of town so they could get everything ready. Were you surprised? It was all Katniss’ idea!”

He finally turns to face me, giving me a smile as radiant as the sun. He walks forward and pulls me into a warm hug. I melt into his arms, so relieved that he’s happy. “How did you know?” he asks, his voice low in my ear.

“A little birdie told me,” I reply as we separate. I nod my head toward the corner of the room behind him. Peeta is perplexed at first, but finally follows my gaze to the copper headed man posted up in a chair, hands folded and elbows resting on his knees.

“It wasn’t me, man,” Finnick replies with a smile, standing to pull Peeta into a hug. “I can’t remember my own wedding anniversary, never mind your birthday. Annie’s the human calendar.”

“Finnick.” Peeta claps him on the back and looks around the room. “Is Annie here?”

“Out back,” Finnick indicates with a nod of his head. “The kids were getting antsy, so she and Mags took them outside for a while.”

“Mags, too?” Peeta asks, looking back at me with a look of wonder. “Katniss?”

I shrug, embarrassed by the attention. Everyone in the room seems to be fixated on our exchange. “Happy birthday, Peeta,” I reply softly.

Thankfully, someone turns on the music and the room begins to come to life. I move toward the back door to call Annie and Mags in, but Peeta stops me and grabs my hand, giving it a squeeze. “Thank you,” he whispers. I give him a smile and a small nod, then head outside to retrieve the rest of his guests.

*-*-*-*

“I still can’t believe you did it,” Peeta says, his eyes closed and his words slurring lazily.

“Did what?” I ask, helping him stand from the couch.

“All of it. All of this-” He waves his arms around, losing his balance in the process.

“Whoa, there, birthday boy.” I put an arm around his waist and steady him as best I can. “I didn’t do anything special.”

“No! You did! You made this amazing party. Just for me,” he emphasizes as he pats his chest. “I can’t believe it.”

“Well, believe it,” I say with a chuckle. I guide him to the stairs, checking the front door lock and turning off the last light. “What I can’t believe is that Finnick made you do all those shots.”

“It was a party. Just for me!” he repeats as he stumbles slowly up the staircase.

“Yeah, I think we got that. Doesn’t mean you had to drink your body weight in tequila. One last step – careful.” I lead him down the hall toward his room. “Now you’re going to have to be quiet; Lily is sleeping.”

“I am quiet!” he shout-whispers. “Why don’t you think I’m quiet, Katniss?”

He’s about as quiet as an elephant as he lumbers down the hall, his footsteps echoing through the entire house. I make a last minute decision and lead him toward my bedroom door instead of his. “C’mon, let’s get you ready for bed.”

He looks around the room as I close the door behind me. “Why does my room look so different?” he tries to whisper again.

“Because it’s my room,” I reply, leading him to the bed and turning him around. I push him forward until he sits on the edge. “You can sleep in here tonight. I’ll stay in your room with Lily.”

I untie his sneakers, struggling with the double knots for a few minutes. I finally give up on the second one, yanking it off still tied. The force is enough to knock Peeta off balance again and he falls backwards onto my bed. I lift his legs up and settle him under the comforter. His eyes are closed, so I assume he’s already asleep as I turn to leave.

“Katniss!” Peeta leans forward on one elbow, his other hand closing around my forearm. “I never said thank you.”

“Sure you did.”

“No, I didn’t. Not properly. I –” His hand shifts down to my own and he laces his fingers through mine. His eyes are glassy but earnest. “You have no idea how much tonight meant to me. No one has ever done anything like that for me before.”

“I’m sure you’ve had birthday parties before, Peeta,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood. “It was really nothing.”

“No,” he replies, his eyebrows reaching his hairline. “Other than dinners with my parents, this was the first.”

“What?” I say with a frown. Surely he’d had a party as a child, or maybe something with friends in college? “What about Prim?” I ask.

He just shakes his head, his eyes closing again. “Just you, Katniss. Nobody takes care of me like you do.”

He’s clearly exhausted and confused. I turn off the light on the end table and push gently on his shoulder until he lies back fully. “Why don’t you get some rest? You’ll feel better in the morning.”

He reaches for me again, his arm fumbling in the dim light. “Stay with me,” he whispers.

“What?” I whisper back, my stomach doing flips.

Finally his hand makes purchase with my arm and he gives it a tug. “Please, stay with me. I sleep so much better when you’re by my side.” I bite my lip, unsure of how to respond. I’m going to say no – I have to say no. Isn’t this what I was trying to avoid this summer? But he speaks again, his shaky whisper breaking my heart. “I’m so tired of the nightmares, Katniss.”

I haven’t closed my curtains yet for the night. I look down at him, the moon illuminating his curls as they fan across my pillow, his eyes closed but his brow furrowed slightly. Somehow the years melt away and I can see the boy he was, scared and alone in the night with no one to comfort him.

“Okay,” I whisper. I walk around to the other side of the bed and climb in, fully clothed. He reaches his arm up and pulls me to his side, his face relaxing instantly. I put my head on his chest, in that spot that feels made for just me, and close my eyes.

I’m almost asleep, worn out from the excitement of the day, warm and comfortable in his arms, when I hear him speak again. It’s low, barely a murmur, and I’m not sure if he’s awake or dreaming, but it echoes like a gunshot in the quiet room: “I love you.”

*-*-*-*

For the first time in ages, I’m the first one awake.

I slept fitfully, Peeta’s words echoing in my ears as I listened to his steady breathing. Finally, a little before sunrise, I decide to get up. I slip carefully from Peeta’s side and head downstairs to make myself some tea.

It’s a few hours before Peeta finally wakes. I’ve already gotten Lily up and dressed and set her up with a banana when he ambles in, his clothes and hair rumpled from sleep.

“Dada!” Lily cries happily.

“Morning, Lily-bug,” he says with a smile, ruffling her hair and dropping a kiss on the top of her head. He looks at me sheepishly. “I’m sorry I slept so late. I came down as soon as I woke up.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I say, moving to put a pot on for tea. “Lily and I were fine. You needed your rest.”

“Was I completely horrible last night?” He runs a hand across the back of his neck. “I woke up in your bed... but everything’s a little fuzzy.”

“You don’t remember?” Maybe he really was asleep.

His face clouds, his eyes scrunched up as he tries to conjur up the events of the previous night. “I remember some things… Finnick, trying to loosen me up. Dancing with Mags?” I laugh at the memory of the two of them doing the Macarena in the living room. “Annie drove them back to the hotel, right?” I nod, waiting to see how much further his memory will go, but he just shakes his head. “It all gets muddy from there. Did you take my shoes off?”

“Yeah. I helped you up to bed, but you were being a little bit loud. I put you in my room so you wouldn’t wake Lily.”

“I was?” he asks contritely. He plops down into a kitchen chair and puts his head in his hands. “I’m sorry. I should have never let Finnick get me so drunk.”

I sit down beside him at the table. “You don’t have to apologize, Peeta. It happens. You didn’t drink and drive, or hurt anyone. You just got a little… sappy.”

He lifts his head, a confused look on his face. “Sappy?”

“Sentimental. Overly grateful for the birthday party.”

He nods. “That makes sense. It was the first one I ever had.”

“That was real?” I thought for some reason he was just exaggerating in his drunken state.

“Yeah. My parents weren’t big on parties when I was a kid. I got a small cake from the bakery and a special dinner of my choice, but that was it. My older brothers had a couple of parties with their friends, but by the time I came around, my parents were tired of all that extra effort.” He shrugs, trying to brush it off, but I can see it bothered him.

“And you never had anything later? A big celebration of your 21^st birthday with your friends in college? Or a party with Prim in Denver?”

He shakes his head. “No. After my family passed away, I didn’t really make a big deal out of my birthday anymore. It just felt… selfish.”

Selfish. I’m reminded of the conversation with Johanna, when she said I needed to be selfish and start thinking of my own needs. I think I’m beginning to understand what she meant.

“That wouldn’t be selfish, Peeta. You deserve to be celebrated. But I hope I didn’t cross any lines…”

“No,” he insists, reaching for my hand and giving it a squeeze. “You didn’t. It was… amazing. Really.”

I nod just as the teapot begins to whistle. “I should get that. Make your tea,” I explain, but he releases my hand and moves to the stove himself.

“I got it. Do you want some?”

“No, thank you. I had some earlier.”

He pours the hot water into the mug I’d prepared earlier and sets the bag in to steep. “That’s right – you’re up early today. Sorry, you probably didn’t sleep as well, not being in your own bed.”

“Well…” He really doesn’t remember. I consider not telling him for just a moment, then decide that’s a bad idea. Our relationship is built on honesty. I can’t keep this from him. “Actually, I did sleep in my bed. With you.”

He’s stops his hunt for a teaspoon and turns to face me. “You did?” he asks, his mouth gaping at me.

“Yeah. You asked me to. You said you’d sleep better if I stayed.” In the light of day it sounds ridiculous. Why did I stay? Why didn’t I just tuck him in and walk away? I’m such a fool.

“Oh my god,” he groans, scrubbing his hands over his face yet again. “I’m so sorry, Katniss. I can’t believe I did that.”

“It’s fine, Peeta,” I say, standing and pushing my chair back in. He’s clearly embarrassed by the whole situation. “Really. I wanted to make sure you’d be okay anyway. Didn’t choke on your vomit or anything,” I add with a nervous laugh.

He drops his hands and looks at me, searching my face for … something. I have to leave before he finds whatever it is.

“Well, I have to get ready for work now,” I say, straightening the chair again needlessly. “Lily’s all set; she had some milk and some dry cereal. There’s plenty of bread for toast, if you want something to settle your stomach. Will you guys be okay?”

“Sure,” he says with a nod, and I don’t wait around to see what else he has to say. I give him a smile and head upstairs for my shower.

As the water runs over my shoulders, I place my head against the cool tile, relieved he didn’t remember anything else that happened last night.

Now I just have to try to forget somehow, too.

Chapter Text

“Trick or treat!”

Haymitch scrutinizes the three of us as we stand on his porch. “Well, let me see. We’ve got a lady bug, a baker – and what are you, sweetheart? A witch?”

I scowl at him but keep quiet for the children’s sakes. There are too many tender ears around tonight for me to tell him what I really think.

“She’s an archer,” Peeta explains with a chuckle, yanking on my bow so Haymitch can see. That’s the extent of my costume, though. Halloween - dressing up and drawing attention to myself - isn’t really a holiday I normally enjoy.

It is apparently, something Peeta enjoys. He’s wearing one of his white aprons and purposely dusted his clothes in flour. And he made a true “Lily-Bug” to go along with his nickname for her. He glued black felt polka dots to a red shirt and tutu, and attached pipe cleaners and black Styrofoam balls to a headband for antennae.

I haven’t been trick-or-treating in years, not since Prim outgrew the activity, but I couldn’t turn him down when he mentioned how much he wanted to take Lily out. We didn’t hit up many houses luckily; just stopped to visit a few friends so they could see Lily in her costume and gush over how cute she was.

“This is definitely a sight I never thought I’d see,” Haymitch says as he tosses a piece of candy into Lily’s plastic pumpkin. “Katniss Everdeen, trick-or-treating. In a costume, no less. Getting soft on me, now?”

“Go to hell, Haymitch,” I reply, reaching into his bowl and pulling out the last peanut butter cup.

I can hear him laughing behind me as I stomp away down the sidewalk.

*-*-*-*

I guess part of the reason I was so willing to go along with Halloween was to try to forget what was coming afterward.

I arrive home one evening in early November to find Peeta in the kitchen with Lily in his lap, going through pictures.

“Hi,” he says, craning his neck to greet me.

“Hey,” I reply, hanging my bag on a hook and kicking off my boots. “What’re you doing?”

He looks around at the photos on the table, picking up one of Prim and Lily on the day she was born. “I was just… showing her pictures of her mom. Since tomorrow…”

I nod. He doesn’t need to finish. I know what tomorrow is. She would have been 21. A baby herself. Instead, she’s gone, and all we have to remember her by are these pieces of paper strewn across my kitchen table.

Well. Those, and a child who will never really know her, except in two dimensions.

Suddenly, I’m smothered with grief; all of the air is sucked out of the room, and I need to get away before I break down.

“I’m going to get a bath,” I announce, my voice cracking. Peeta looks at me with a concerned expression. “It was a long day, and I just… I need to unwind.”

“Of course,” he replies quietly. “You don’t need to explain.”

I dash from the room and up the stairs. As I walk down the hall, I slow before Prim’s bedroom door. When did I last open it? Nearly two years ago?

I place my palms against the surface and lean my forehead down to rest against the wood. I close my eyes and picture her at 15, lying on her stomach on her bed, ankles crossed as she sings along to some ridiculous boy band. Behind her, the walls are covered in posters of actors and singers whose names I can’t even remember. Life seemed so much simpler then.

I reach for the handle, but can’t make myself touch it, holding back as though it might burn me. Backing away, I turn from the door and head to the bathroom to hide.

But as I slip under the warm water, thoughts of Prim invading my mind, I can’t ignore the fact that it’s impossible to hide from a ghost.

*-*-*-*

When morning comes, I can’t seem to leave my bed.

I call work, tell them I’m sick and won’t be in. Before returning my phone to the end table, I send Peeta a text to let him know I’m staying home but need some time alone, then pull the covers up over my head.

I squeeze my eyes shut tight, but I keep seeing flashes of Prim like a filmstrip in my mind. Prim as a small child, so sweet and loving, her hair in two pale braids with tiny pink ribbons at the end. Adolescent Prim, tall and gangly, growing out of her clothes before I can even blink. Teenaged Prim, trying to find the right shade of eye shadow to compliment her fair skin and sky blue eyes; crying on my shoulder when the girls in school made fun of her cobalt selection.

But of all the images, I keep going back to the Prim I knew last: packed and leaving for college, giving me a big hug and telling me how much she loved me. And then – what? Nothing. There was a whole other Prim that existed – touring Europe, getting married, her body changing with pregnancy - that I can’t conjure in my memory.

Because I wasn’t there. I was shut out of her life by then.

I press my palms against my eyes, trying to blur out every speck of light that seems determined to reach me, roll to my stomach and bury my face in the pillow.

But I can’t seem to turn off my mind.

*-*-*-*

A soft knock on the door wakes me and pulls me from my cave. I don’t even remember falling asleep.

I pull the blankets down and take a deep breath of fresh air. The room is much brighter than I expected. What time is it?

“Yeah?” I call out, my voice hoarse from misuse.

“Just checking in,” Peeta says, his soft tones muffled further by the door. “Do you need anything? Some lunch?”

Lunch? I grab my phone and check the time. It’s almost 1 PM.

“No,” I reply, tossing it on the bed beside me. “I’m not hungry.”

“Okay,” he replies softly. “I’ll be right downstairs if you need me.”

“Thanks.” I pull the blankets back up over my head and try to disappear.

*-*-*-*

I wake again when the bed dips beside me. The blankets are gently pulled back from my face and I squint against the dim light from my bedside lamp. It must be near dinnertime based on the darkness behind my curtains.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” Peeta says. “I knocked but you didn’t answer. I just needed to make sure you were okay.” He brushes the sweaty hair back from my forehead. “You’ve been up here all day, Katniss. You have to eat something.”

He holds a plate loaded with two cheese buns and a green apple sliced into wedges. As I slide up against the headboard, I notice a mug of steaming hot chocolate on my end table next to a fresh box of tissues.

“I’m sorry,” I croak. “I just couldn’t… I can’t…” I shake my head.

“I know,” he says.

“No, you don’t know,” I reply, rubbing my hands against my face. “She was my sister. I loved her so much… but sometimes… I get so…”

He waits. A thousand words must be running through his mind, dozens of reasonable emotions in a time like this. But still, he waits, letting me work this out for myself.

Finally, the word comes to me: mad. It’s simple, childish really. But that’s how I feel right now.

“I’m just so mad.” I laugh mirthlessly the second it leaves my lips. “God, that sounds so stupid.”

“No, it’s not stupid,” he insists. “You have every right to be mad. You lost your sister. Anybody would be mad at the world if -”

“No!” I yell. “You don’t get it! I’m mad at her.”

I’m drowning in feelings; bombarded with thoughts and emotions I can barely understand. This building anger, it’s so raw, so visceral. So new.

Or - is it? Has it been hiding, buried deep inside me all these months?

Was Johanna right? Have I just been kidding myself?

“How could she?” I hiss. “Why? I try and try, but I still can’t understand it! No matter what I do, I can’t understand why she had to shut me out! We could have had so much more time together. We should have – if she wasn’t so damn selfish. Instead she left me here. Alone.”

My hands ball into fists at my sides, my voice a near whisper. “How can you love someone so much and still feel so much… hate toward them?”

He moves the plate to the end table. “You don’t hate her-” he begins, but I stop him again.

“But I do, Peeta. I hate her sometimes. My own sister. What kind of person does that make me?”

I bury my face in my hands, pressing against my dry eyes. My own body wants to punish me; I don’t even deserve the relief of fresh tears to wash me clean.

Peeta sits silently beside me, no doubt wondering what kind of monster he’s stuck with. I can’t even look at him. Part of me is relieved to get this off my chest, but another part of me can’t bear to admit this to him. All those months of denying my feelings… For so long, Peeta thought I was a loyal and loving sister. But now he can see me for who I really am.

“Hey…” Peeta’s hands tug gently at my wrists. Finally I relent, letting him pull my hands into his. I watch as he rubs at them, his thumbs running over the top, his fingers softly coaxing mine to open to him.

“Katniss. C’mon. Look at me.” He lifts my chin so I have to look at him. Forces me to make eye contact. “You are a good person. And you are an amazing sister. Everything you’re feeling, it’s normal.” I start to object but he puts a finger to my lips. “It is. It’s okay to be angry. Angry with the situation. Angry with Prim herself. It doesn’t cancel out your love for her.”

I want to believe him, but it feels wrong. Being angry with my baby sister, who in the end, lost so much more than I did.

“It’s her birthday,” I whisper. “I should be honoring her memory. Not…” I shake my head. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore.

Peeta holds my hands patiently. When it’s obvious I’m not going to continue, he clears his throat. “Do you ever think about… talking to someone? Working out your grief with a professional?”

I scowl and look away. Peeta just clenches my hands tighter.

“I’m not saying now, just… someday. When you’re ready. There’s no shame in it. I think about it sometimes myself. I have a lot of … feelings to work out.”

I look up to catch him studying me, a faint blush on his cheeks. I wonder – could those “feelings” include the ones he confessed a few weeks ago? But I dismiss it almost immediately. A drunken statement that surely means nothing can’t be bothering him that much.

“Now, please. For me-” He retrieves the plate from the end table and forces me to take it. “Eat something. I promise you, you’ll feel better if you do. Bread makes everything better.”

I laugh, but take a bite of a cheese bun, raising my eyebrows for his approval.

“Thank you,” he says graciously. I take a sip of the hot chocolate, warm and creamy and sweet, the perfect complement to the salty bun. He pats my knee before retreating from the room, tossing one last smile at me before closing my door again.

I sit back against my pillow and savor the snack. He’s right, I do feel better. But it’s not just from the bread; it’s from him. His voice, his touch, his presence; listening to me, taking care of me  – everything about Peeta sets me at ease, helps me to relax.

Peeta’s a balm to my soul, and I honestly don’t know what I’d do without him.

*-*-*-*

I’m feeding Lily a snack a few days later when Peeta returns from another appointment with Delly. He greets us both, dropping a kiss on Lily’s head before moving to the stove to turn on the kettle for tea.

He leans against the counter, arms folded across his chest while he watches us.

“So?” I ask. “How’d it go?”

He shrugs, rubs a hand against the back of his neck, then pushes off to get a mug and teabag ready. “No luck with today’s place, but … Delly was wondering if I might be interested in taking things in a different direction.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, trying to mask my concern. “You aren’t going to look outside the area, are you?”

“No, no,” he replies. “Nothing like that. She was wondering if I might be interested in buying instead of renting. Maybe start looking at houses.”

“Oh.” I take a moment to process this. A house.

“I told her I had to think about it,” he continues. “I mean, I have the money, from the life insurance. It’s not that. It’s just, buying a house is so…” He turns and leans against the counter again, his blue eyes locking with mine.

“Permanent,” I finish.

“Yeah.”

Lily begins to fuss and I realize she’s all out of peaches. I take this chance to busy myself, cleaning her face, getting her some crackers, then moving to unload the dishwasher.

“Does ‘permanent’ bother you?” I ask, keeping my back to him.

I’m not sure what the right answer to that question is. I know I want them here, in Connecticut, with me. I don’t even want to consider that this might be a temporary move for him.

So why does him buying a house, moving out and setting down permanent roots, seem just as troublesome?

“No,” he replies carefully. “Not really. It’s just a really big decision. It feels kind of fast. We’ve only been looking for an apartment for a month now. Delly says this is a slow time of year, with the holidays coming up and all. Maybe we should give it some more time.” He touches my arm lightly, stopping my frantic cleaning. “But I was kind of wondering what you thought about it.”

I dry my hands and turn to lean against the counter to his left. My focus is on Lily as I answer. “I don’t really know. I mean – a house. That’s great, right? There are lots of possibilities. Lily could have her own room. You could get a bigger kitchen and better appliances for baking.”

“I guess,” he says, though he doesn’t sound convinced. “So what you’re saying is, you’d be happy if I bought a house?”

I hesitate; I know I should say yes, encourage him to move forward, but I’m a terrible liar. He’d see right through me.

“I’d be happy… if I knew you were happy,” I admit honestly, finally looking to my right to find him watching me.

He’s considering my words, but his face betrays nothing. He’s so close, I can see every detail of his face; his long eyelashes are so fair they’re almost white, but the hairs in his closely cropped beard vary from light to dark blonds with even a few hints of red. As I study him, he licks his lips, and my eyes are drawn to the pale pink of his tongue and the fullness of his mouth –

Oh god.

I push off the counter and move to free Lily from her chair. She gets down and immediately walks over to Peeta, arms outstretched.

“Daddy! Up!”

Peeta scoops her up and perches her on his hip, his eyes still trained on me.

“I had some work emails I wanted to respond to… You’re all set here, right?” I ask, already backing out of the room.

“Yeah. All set,” Peeta replies quietly.

“Thanks.”

I head up to my room, boot up my laptop and flop back on my bed with a sigh.

Peeta was right – I do need to talk to someone. But not for the reason he thinks.

*-*-*-*

“So you don’t want him to buy a house?” Madge takes a french fry and dredges it with ketchup before popping it into her mouth.

“I didn’t say that!”

“So you do want him to buy a house?” she says through her bite.

“No! I don’t – I don’t know.” I collapse onto the table with a groan, burying my head in my arms.

“Well, why don’t we start with what you do know? That might help.”

I sit up, listening to the soothing bustle and din in Sae’s Diner. This was our favorite spot to go in high school, when a handful of quarters dug from between the couch cushions could get us a heaping plate of greasy fries after school.

“I know I like having them living with me. I like not being alone anymore,” I answer quietly.

“Okay,” Madge says. “So, do you think you might like a roommate someday? Someone new to move in when they move out? Or is it something else?”

“It’s them,” I reply, staring at the table. “I don’t want to live with anyone else. I don’t want them to leave.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” Madge takes a sip of her water, the straw sucking in air slightly as she finishes it. She places the glass near the edge of the table and sits back with a sigh. “So, what were you going to do if they found an apartment?”

I hadn’t really figured that one out yet. “I guess I never let myself think about it. There were always problems with every place they saw, and a part of me hoped… maybe he’d never find something? Or if he did, it would just be temporary; they’d rent for a while, and eventually he’d realize we should all be … together.”

“Hmm.” Madge seems as perplexed by the situation as I am. "It seems like maybe it's time to have a talk with Peeta. He obviously cares about you, Katniss. He'd want to know how you really feel. Maybe he feels the same way." Her words make me squirm, earning a careful look. "What?"

"It's nothing-" I try, but she won't hear of it.

"No, Katniss, it's definitely not 'nothing.' What's the matter?"

"Something you said reminded me - Johanna. She said ... she thinks ... She claims Peeta has feelings for me." I roll my eyes, trying to emphasize how preposterous the thought is, but Madge just stares at me.

"And? What do you think?"

"It's ridiculous! Right? I mean, he's obviously still not over Prim! And I'm her sister. He'd never let-" I shake my head. “It’s ridiculous,” I repeat softly.

"I don’t think it’s ridiculous," Madge says.

“What?”

“Seeing the two of you together, like at your birthday party… You have amazing chemistry. The way the two of you are always finishing each other’s sentences; you’re on the same wavelength. And you’re an amazing team when it comes to Lily.” She shrugs and reaches for another french fry. “Besides, from what I see, he can barely keep his eyes off you.”

“Really?” I murmur.

Madge nods seriously. “And what about you? How do you feel about him?”

“I care about him. He’s become my best friend over this past year.” I dip my fingers into the condensation on my water glass. “I don’t know. Johanna thinks I have feelings for him, too.” I chuckle at the memory. “Well, technically, her choice of words was a lot more colorful. But that was the gist of it.”

Madge laughs. “You know, Jo can be a bit… abrasive. But she also tends to be spot on. You just light up around him, Katniss.”

“I do?” My hands fly to my cheeks, trying to cool the hot blush creeping into them.

“Yeah,” she replies, a small smile on her lips.

“Oh, god.” I move my hands to my eyes and press hard with my fingertips, trying to stop the ache building behind them. “But it’s so complicated, Madge. He’s my brother-in-law! What about Prim? What about Lily?”

“What about you?” she replies. “What about Peeta? Don’t the two of you deserve some happiness, especially after all you’ve both been through? What if this turns out to be your chance at love?”

Love. “He… told me… that he loved me,” I whisper.

“What?” she shrieks, eliciting looks from other tables. “When?”

“It was after his birthday party. He was drunk, and when I brought him to bed, he asked me to stay with him-“

“Excuse me? Why am I just hearing about this now?!”

“It wasn’t like that. It was just to sleep. We both have a lot of nightmares, and somehow they’re better when we’re together.” Madge gives me a sympathetic look. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. He didn’t remember anything the next day. I’m not even sure he meant it.”

Madge raises an eyebrow. “Well, I’m pretty sure he meant it,” she replies. “But no matter what, I think it’s time the two of you had a talk. You need to tell him, Katniss. About the house hunt. About your feelings for him. Everything.”

I push the plate of french fries in her direction and sling back in my booth. Deep down, I know she’s right, but the thought of having this conversation fills me with dread.

*-*-*-*

November is a hard month. The days are getting shorter, darker and colder, making everything feel a little harder. Besides Prim’s birthday, Thanksgiving is coming up quickly, a holiday that just seems to remind us both of how much we’ve lost.

We spend most evenings after dinner reading or talking about our days. Sometimes, we play cards like we did back in Denver, which is always a fun change. Now that the weather’s gotten cooler, Peeta’s been knitting again. He’s even been kind enough – or stupid enough - to offer to teach me.

After a frustrating first lesson, I’m starting to get the hang of it. I sit beside him on the couch wielding two large knitting needles and a few inches of chunky royal blue stiches that will hopefully become a scarf for Madge someday. The soft gray blanket Peeta’s making for Haymitch is much more recognizable, but I try not to compare myself to him. Much.

I decide one Friday evening that knitting is the perfect catalyst for talking about those difficult topics I’ve been avoiding. I don’t have to make eye contact, so it makes it a little easier for me to get the words out.

At least, that’s the plan.

“Peeta?” I ask, my eyes glued to my needles. “I was wondering if we could talk about something.”

“Yeah?” he asks, putting his blanket down on the coffee table and turning to face me. “What’s up?” Damnit.

“Uh. I was just wondering… what you wanted to do for Thanksgiving?” Way to chicken out, Katniss.

“Oh, I don’t know. I was thinking we could invite Haymitch over? He said he didn’t have any plans.” He cocks his head to think for a moment. “Do you have any special Thanksgiving traditions? Prim didn’t mention anything.”

“That’s because Christmas was her favorite holiday. Thanksgiving was mine.”

“Really?” he asks, an excited glow on his face. “Mine, too!”

I finally drop the knitting in my lap and turn to face him more fully. “C’mon. You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m not! It’s always been my favorite. Watching the parade in the morning, the whole house just fragrant with delicious smells all day. All of the amazing food. Plus, let’s recognize the best part of Thanksgiving.” He pauses dramatically. “The pies. Believe it or not, I make a mean pumpkin pie. And chocolate cream pie. And apple pie.”

I laugh, sure that anything Peeta bakes would be delicious. “That actually sounds perfect. Prim never wanted to watch the parade with me; she only cared about seeing Santa at the end.”

“Then it’s decided. We have a date. Thanksgiving morning. This couch. Be there or be square.”

“Okay. Sounds like a plan.”

Am I blushing? Why do my cheeks feel so warm? I reach for the yarn and scowl as I try to figure out where I left off. Peeta’s just watching me, his arm up on the back of the couch, his fingers just inches from my back.

“Was that all?” he asks.

“Hmm?”

“Was there anything else you wanted to talk about? You seem like there’s something on your mind…”

This is it. This is my chance. So why can’t I do it? Why won’t the words come?

Finally, a thought occurs to me.  “I wanted to talk about…Prim.”

“Prim?”

 “Actually…Prim’s bedroom. I was thinking… I might be ready to start to go through her things. Clean it out. And I was wondering if you could help me with that.”

“Of course, Katniss.” His hand sneaks down to my shoulders, giving me them a squeeze. “I’d be happy to help you with that. Anytime.”

“Tomorrow?” I ask, meeting his eyes.

“Absolutely. We can get started during Lily’s nap if you’d like.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of us look away. His hand continues to rub at my shoulder, and it feels so good, so impossibly good…

“How about some cookies?” he finally asks. “I made some this afternoon. Peanut butter.”

I smile and nod. He gives my shoulder one last squeeze before getting up and moving into the kitchen.

The second he’s out of sight, I throw my head back against the couch and close my eyes with a sigh.

Tomorrow. We’ll definitely talk tomorrow.

Maybe.

*-*-*-*

“Are you sure you’re ready to do this?”

I glance at Peeta beside me, then turn back to face Prim’s bedroom door, clenching and unclenching my hands. “Yeah. I just… I need a minute.”

“Of course. Take as much time as you need, Katniss.”

His hand brushes my back lightly, then drifts away. I decide I need him to ground me if I’m to go through with this. I reach behind me blindly with my left hand until I find his. I lace our fingers together, squeezing his slightly and drawing him closer to me.

Finally I reach for the handle and swing the door open.

The room is just as I remembered it: pink bedding, lace curtains, and pale yellow walls sprinkled with posters and photographs. Through the open closet door, I see the clothes she left behind and a pile of mismatched shoes on the floor. A thin coat of dust covers all of the furniture and knick knacks, waiting for their owner to return.

I realize I’m still clutching Peeta’s hand, so I let it go and sit down on Prim’s bed. It creaks slightly under my weight as I study every corner of the room, my gaze finally landing back on Peeta again. He’s just watching me, holding an empty cardboard box and patiently waiting for my instructions.

It’s strange… I expected Prim to fill every corner of this room; her essence to wash over me as soon as I came inside. But she isn’t here. If any part of her was left behind, it probably slipped out the moment I opened the door, glad to finally be free.

“She’s gone,” I murmur.

He puts the box down and sits beside me on the bed, putting an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close. I lay my head on his shoulder and allow myself to take in the comfort he always brings me.

After a few more breaths, I stand up and grab the box where he’d dropped it. “Let’s get started.”

*-*-*-*

It takes a few hours, but by late afternoon we’ve organized Prim’s items into the things we want to keep and the things we can donate or throw away. Lily has joined us now, and she entertains herself by playing on the floor in Prim’s closet, putting oversized hats on her head and trying on Prim’s shoes.

I’m sitting cross-legged on the floor, flipping through an old yearbook, when Peeta stands and brushes the dust from his pants.

“What do you think about pizza tonight?” he asks. “I think we’ve both worked hard enough today.”

He picks Lily up from her spot amidst the mess and perches her on his hip. “Pepperoni?” he asks, and I simply nod in response.

He’s got a pink silk scarf wrapped around his neck – something Lily had brought to him and insisted he wear – and a dustbunny caught in his hair. As he moves to the bedroom door, I’m overwhelmed by a wave of gratitude and joy and terror and a bundle of emotions I can’t even decipher.

“Don’t leave!” I call out, and he turns back to me, a look of confusion on his face.

“I was just going to change Lily and call in the pizza. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“No,” I reply, softer. “I mean… don’t… leave. Don’t buy a house. Don’t move out.”

His face relaxes slightly, but his eyes are full of questions. “Katniss?”

“I was talking to – I mean, I was thinking about –” I shake my head. No, that’s not right.

I start again. “You know, maybe this could be Lily’s room? I mean, someday. When you’re ready…” That’s not right either. His brow furrows further; I can almost hear Madge and Johanna scolding me for my cowardice.

Finally, I reach deep inside and try to find the courage to speak from the heart.

“Having the two of you here, with me, it feels… It’s right somehow, isn’t it? And I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to go back to not seeing you every day, and getting to watch Lily grow, and only talking to you on the phone, because when we’re apart, I miss you too much. I need you too much. You’ve become the most important people in my life and I can’t bear to think of you leaving and me being all alone again and-”

“Stop,” he whispers roughly, interrupting my rambling just as my voice breaks. I’m so relieved; I’m not sure I could have gone on much longer before I started to cry.

He sets Lily back down to explore and reaches for my hand, helping me to stand up so he can pull me into his arms. I bury my face into his chest and breathe deeply. His hand cups the back of my head and I close my eyes, my entire body at peace. Since I lost my father, no one else's arms have made me feel this safe.

“We won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. Okay?” he replies, his chest rumbling beneath my ear.

“Okay,” I mumble into his shirt.

“But I feel like we need to have a talk,” he adds.

“I know,” I answer. “But not now.” It’s too much today; between the emotions involved in cleaning out Prim’s room and the angst I’ve suffered over making this first partial confession, I can't handle any more.

“Okay,” he says. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Soon,” I promise. I cling to him a little tighter, and for just a moment, let myself forget everything else in the world but this.

Chapter Text

I’m so nervous.

I was emotionally drained from going through Prim’s things, and after my moment of weakness with Peeta. As he held me after my confession, I could feel my body giving out, begging for rest. He could sense it too, and insisted I go to bed. He walked me to my room, gave me another big hug, and said we’d talk more the morning.

But instead of getting rest, I’m lying in bed, wide awake, worried about what’s to come.

Why? Why am I so afraid? This is Peeta. Good, kind, gentle Peeta who would never hurt me. I believe that. I do.

But still. I’m terrified. And I’m not even sure what scares me the most.

Part of me is afraid he’ll reject me; tell me I’ve imagined these feelings between us. That my attachment to him is inappropriate or misplaced. That while he cares about me – and I can’t deny that he does – it’s just in friendship, and nothing more.

Then again, I think I’m almost more afraid of what might happen if he were to tell me that he feels the same way, too.  

*-*-*-*

“Good morning.”

Peeta greets me with a smile as I enter the kitchen. For a change, I’m up before sunrise with him. It’s still dark outside, the sun barely peeking up over the horizon.

I guess neither of us could sleep in this morning.

I mumble a ‘good morning’ back as Peeta brings me a tea and sits down beside me. He’s wearing a white t-shirt and blue flannel pants, and I have an overwhelming desire to run my hands through his sleep-flattened curls.

Oh god.

“So…” he says. He takes a sip from his own mug and leans his head on his palm. “Should we talk now? Lily won’t be up for a while.”

“Sure,” I murmur, my desire to get this over with outweighing my hope of delaying the inevitable awkwardness.

“I…” I pause, clutching the mug in my hands, soaking in its warmth while I try to gather my thoughts. He waits, watching me patiently while a storm rages in my chest.

Finally I sigh in frustration. “I’m not good with words. I don’t know how to do this,” I admit in defeat.

“It’s okay. We can start at the beginning,” Peeta offers. “You said… you don’t want me to leave. You want us to stay here. With you.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” he asks gently.

“Because…” I frown, searching for the words. I’m not even sure I can explain it to myself yet, never mind to him. I shrug and shake my head. “I… I like having the two of you around.”

“So you’d miss Lily too much if we moved out?” he asks, a challenge behind his words.

“Yes.”

“Just Lily?” he prods, his eyes wide and hopeful.

“No,” I whisper.

He nods, considering his next question. He clears his throat and tries again. “So you like having me here, living with you, too.” I nod, grateful for his guidance through this process. “As a roommate? To help with the bills and the household maintenance?”

“No,” I reply, stricken. “I can take care of myself. I’ve handled things on my own around here for years.”

“I know,” he answers, putting a hand on my arm. “I would never imply otherwise. You’re a strong, independent woman. Stronger than anyone I’ve ever met.” His thumb strokes my arm gently through my shirt. “You don’t need anyone to take care of you. But that doesn’t mean you don’t get lonely sometimes. Need a friend.”

I nod again. Having had him in my life, I can no longer deny the loneliness that fills the spaces when he’s gone.

“So you’d like me to stay here with you… as a friend?” he asks.

I don’t answer right away, trapped in his gaze. His blue eyes are pleading, waiting for my response. He needs me to say it first, wants me to be the one to put a name to this. But the words are stuck in my throat.

I finally shake my head almost imperceptibly and he lets out a small sigh.

“Katniss…” He takes both of my hands into his; they feel cool and clammy after the warmth of the mug. “Over the past year, you have become so important to me. You're my friend... my best friend, really. But there's more... There’s a connection between us that goes deeper than just friendship. I feel it when I'm close to you, when I touch you." He squeezes my hands. "It’s even stronger, somehow, when we're apart. I feel you, pulling at my heart. And I think… you feel it, too.”

He's so earnest, so careful with his words, my heart swells with affection. “I do.” I nod, warmth spreading across my cheeks. “I feel the same way.”

He smiles, a relieved sigh escaping his wide grin. He brings my hands up to his lips and places a gentle kiss on the backs of my fingers. “I’m so glad we’re finally able to talk about this. I can’t tell you how long…” He shakes his head, his words trailing off and the smile dimming slightly. “But I know this is hard. Complicated. I understand why you’d be hesitant… Our circumstances are a little… unusual.”

“I know,” I answer with a rueful chuckle. Unusual. That’s an understatement. “The whole thing... I’m so confused, Peeta…”

“I know. Me, too.” He brings my hands closer, squeezing them in his own. “But… I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

I’m burning under the weight of his stare. It’s almost too much, too soon. Everything is happening too fast for me to process it. “Well… except for Prim,” I dismiss with a shrug. I sense his shoulders stiffen at my words, his smile fading as I wait for him to agree.

Instead, I’m met by his silence.

“Peeta?” His eyebrows furrow slightly; his lips part and then close. Suddenly he is the one without words. I ponder the meaning behind this, the weight of his mute admission. “It was true, then?” I whisper, pulling my hands away.

“What do you mean?” he asks, falling back against his chair.

“Everything Glimmer said… It was all true, wasn’t it?”

“Glimmer?” he repeats, genuinely confused. “What did she say? When-”

“When I was in Colorado. She said that your marriage, you and Prim, it was a sham. That it wasn’t real. That you only got married because of Lily.” He looks away, a guilty expression if I’ve ever seen one. I stand from the table, a sudden anger replacing my shyness. “Then it’s true? You've been lying to me all this time? All those things you said at Prim’s memorial service... all lies?! You never loved her?”

“No!” he shouts. He stands quickly, his own chair clattering to the floor and startling us both. “No,” he repeats in a calmer voice. “It was the truth. I loved Prim. I did. She was my best friend. She was the mother of my child, and I will always love her for that.”

He steps closer, grasps my hands in his own larger ones again. “But I wasn’t in love with Prim. Not like I am-”

“No.” I step back, shaking my head in disbelief. A late night confession, surely fueled by alcohol and exhaustion, is one thing. But if he says the words now, in the light of day, I know we'll never be able to go back.

“Katniss –” He continues on before I can make my escape. “Prim and I, we made mistakes.” He stops himself, shakes his head. “Choices,” he corrects. “In the end, the odds weren’t in our favor. When we found out she was expecting Lily, we put our child’s needs before our own. We were good friends, had an amazing daughter... We both agreed, that was enough for us.” He shrugs. “It all happened so fast, we barely knew each other at the beginning. Maybe … if we'd had more time… things would have been different. But…”

I shake my head and bury my face in my hands, trying to hide from everything. This is all too much to handle right now. “I feel so stupid,” I mumble into my palms. “You’ve been lying to me for a year now, letting me believe…”

Peeta comes closer, wraps his hands around my wrists and gently pulls them down so I’m forced to look at him. I can see tears pooling in his blue eyes. “Katniss, I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. But I need you to understand, I’ve never lied to you. And I never will.”

He holds onto my hands and we stare at each other for a few moments. It seems there’s nothing else to say right now.

I can hear Lily upstairs, just starting to sing to herself as she wakes for the day. “You should go to her,” I murmur.

“Katniss-”

“Please, Peeta. I heard you. I just need… I need some time.”

He nods somberly, finally letting go of my hands. They’re left cold and empty without his touch. As I watch him back out of the kitchen and head for the stairs, I rub them together to try to bring back some of his warmth.

Somehow, it’s not the same.

*-*-*-*

I successfully avoid Peeta the rest of the day.

It’s a Sunday, so it’s easy to throw myself into the chores for the week. When he’s in the kitchen, I head to the basement to do laundry. When he’s in the living room, I’m in the kitchen preparing my lunch for work the next day.

When it’s time for dinner, I excuse myself to my room, my appetite gone. Peeta just nods at my announcement, hiking Lily up onto his hip and absently pressing a kiss to her curls. I glance back quickly to find him watching me, a small frown on his face.

As I reach my room, my resolve wavers. I lean against the bedroom door, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath to compose myself.

Despite my excuse of needing time to myself to think, I’ve made no headway in figuring out this mess. I wish more than ever that my sister were here to talk to me, explain herself in person, and help me work this out.

My eyes pop open with an idea, and I move to my closet and pull out a box. Inside are memories of Prim I've kept for myself; a few pictures, her favorite earrings, birthday cards she’d given me over the years. On top is the letter from last Christmas, the one she’d planned to send me to finally tell me about Lily.

I scan her words. This was her last chance to talk to me, to tell me the truth about her life. Was there any clue there to what was really going on?

I hope you can forgive me someday for lying to you.

Was this her confession? Maybe her way of admitting that Lily wasn’t the only thing she was keeping from me. Was there more about her life that she wasn’t ready to share?

My anger from a few weeks ago simmers and swirls. Maybe I’m not so ready to forgive after all.

I want to finally introduce you to PJ. He's the best father I could have ever hoped for my daughter, and I just know you're going to love him.

With this new information, I review her choice of words. She praised Peeta as a father, but there was no mention of their marriage, of their whirlwind romance and her love for her husband.

I hope you can understand why I made the choices I did. While I made some mistakes, having Lily will never be one of them.

I sink down on the bed, my mind no clearer than before. I lie back and read through the letter again, one line drawing my attention above all:

I just know you're going to love him.

I drop the letter with a sigh. I have to accept that I’ll never be able to speak to Prim, never be able to hear her side of the story, have her explain her motivations. But maybe there is someone else that can help me understand.

*-*-*-*

“Annie?”

“Katniss! It’s so good to hear from you!” Her voice is genuinely happy on the other end of the line. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. How are you?”

“Good, good,” she replies. “Busy trying to juggle work and Dylan, but we’re all doing well. But really - how are you? And Peeta and Lily? I feel like I haven’t talked to you guys in forever!”

“We’re good. Lily’s getting really big. So…” I trail off, not really sure what else to say.

“I bet,” she answers, a smile in her voice. I clear my throat, trying to figure out how to phrase my questions. I’ve got a small window of time before my lunch break ends and Annie has to get back to work, so I know I’ve got to get to the point.

Annie must sense something’s off, because she speaks again, more gently. “Are you sure you’re really okay, Katniss? You sound… troubled.”

I sigh, tucking a hair behind my ear and pulling my scarf closer around my neck. It’s getting chilly out here in my car. “I am. A little. I was hoping you could help me work something out. If I could ask you a few questions. About Prim.”

“Of course,” she answers eagerly. “Anything.”

“Actually, it’s about her relationship with Peeta. The other day, we had a talk… and …” I begin to second guess this entire phone call. How foolish and desperate I must be to even consider it.

“And what?” Annie asks. “Katniss, please. I want to help if I can.”

I finally decide to press on. I’ll never be able to put my mind at ease if I don’t ask. “The other day, Peeta admitted that... he and Prim... were never really in love.”

“Oh,” Annie replies softly. It’s more a statement than a sound of surprise, giving me the courage to press on.

“Annie, I need to ask… Did you know?” Before she can answer, I forge ahead. “Because when we went to dinner a few months ago… it seemed like you knew more than you were saying. Did… Did Prim say something to you?”

“No, Katniss. I promise, Prim never said a word. She never talked about their marriage at all. But I guess, to be totally honest…” She sighs. “I did suspect something was off,” she adds contritely.

“What do you mean?”

“I…” She lets out a nervous laugh. "It's silly."

“Annie, please. Anything you can remember.  I feel like everyone’s been tiptoeing around me all year. I need to know the truth."

"Okay," she says carefully. "Well, first I have to say - we didn't spend a lot of time with Prim and Peeta together. Usually Prim and I would get together with the kids, and the guys would hang out; or the two of us would go out while Finnick and Peeta watched the babies. So I didn't see them as a couple very often. But when we did... I don't know. It's hard to explain."

"Did they fight?" I ask, trying to get to the root of things.

"No. That's just it. It was the exact opposite," Annie replies. "They got along great. Never a harsh word or disagreement between them. It was always just... nice."

"Nice?" I ask, confused how she could make a normally positive word sound almost critical. "What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, really. I don’t know. Maybe I’m just used to Finnick. His flirty, playful side; always sneaking kisses, or looking for a chance to touch me. That stereotypical newlywed behavior, you know? I never really saw that with them. No extra touches, secret looks… There was no… fire.”

“Fire?”

“No passion. A real connection. That closeness between a couple, when you can just sense two souls belong together.”

“Oh.”

“Katniss…” she begins carefully. “Why are you asking me all of this? If Peeta shared this with you, why wouldn’t you just ask him to explain it?”

“Yeah. I might,” I reply dryly. I have no intention of asking him right now.

“I hope everything’s okay between the two of you,” Annie says, concern in her voice. I guess I haven’t been as neutral as I’d hoped. “He cares about you so much, Katniss. When he was still living out here, you came up in nearly every conversation. Talk about fire – he practically glows when he talks about you.”

I glance at the dashboard; lunch is over. “Listen, Annie, I’ve got to get going,” I say, not acknowledging her last statement. I have no answer for her; I’m not ready for any of this. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

“Of course,” she replies. “Take care of yourself. And give Peeta our love.”

“I will,” I promise before disconnecting the call.

I throw my head back against the headrest and sigh, my breath steaming slightly in the chilly air. I don’t know why I thought this phone call would help. I’m more confused than ever.

*-*-*-*

“Damnit!” I shout, picking up the stack of folders from the floor and trying to reassemble them.

“What crawled up your ass and died?” Johanna asks as she passes my desk, coffee in hand.

I level her with a fierce look, slamming the last of the folders back on my desk. Making that call to Annie during work hours was a bad idea. My mood has gotten even worse, if that’s possible.

“Awww. Trouble in paradise? Did Blondie not pack you a lunch today? No good morning kiss?”

“Fuck off, Johanna,” I growl.

“Whoa! What the hell is your problem?”

“Nothing,” I insist, blinking back angry tears as I organize the folders.

“Seriously, Everdeen. You better tell me what’s going on. If you don’t, I’ll give Lover Boy a call and ask him. Don’t think I won’t do it.”

I bury my head in my hands with a groan. There’s no point in trying to keep this from her. Johanna is like a dog with a bone whenever someone has a secret; she’ll never let this go.

“Peeta and Prim’s marriage wasn’t real,” I mumble into my hands.

“What?” she asks, dropping into the spare chair beside my desk and putting down her cup. “You’re going to have to speak up, Brainless.”

I drop my hands and face her with a scowl.  “Peeta and Prim were never in love,” I repeat deliberately. “It was just a marriage of convenience.”

“So?” she asks with a shrug.

“So?! God – They lied to me! And Peeta let me carry on believing it. He’s been lying to me for almost a year now!”

“Really?” she says, frowning heavily. “Did he ever tell you that Prim was the love of his life? That he was passionately head-over-heels in love her?”

“No. But-”

“But what? This should be good news, shouldn’t it? Weren’t you the one whining just a few weeks ago about competing with your sainted sister’s memory? Worried you were stealing her husband out from under her or something? This should be a relief!”

“You just don’t get it,” I grumble, folding my arms across my chest.

She studies me for a moment. Finally her eyes widen and a smug grin spreads across her face. “You’re in love with him!”

“What?!” I ask incredulously.

“I knew you cared about him, but it’s more than that, isn’t it? You’re in love with him. And that scares you shitless.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I answer, standing and brushing past her.

“Hey.” She grabs my arm, pulling me back with a serious expression on her face. “Wait.”

I frown at her hand on my arm, but sit back down, waiting for her to continue.

“Listen,” she begins with a sigh. “I’m all for you getting in touch with the dark side. Everyone knows anger is one of my favorite emotions. But don’t make a mistake you’re going to regret just because you’re afraid.”

“Jo-”

“No, Katniss. This is how you always get whenever you start having feelings.” She emphasizes the word with air quotes. “You shut down and find any chance to avoid the situation. I think you just realized how much he means to you, and now you want to run. It’s the same thing you did with Gale.”

“This is nothing like me and Gale,” I hiss.

“You’re right,” she agrees, leaning back into her chair. “Because you never loved Gale. Not like you love Peeta. Right?” She arches an eyebrow, waiting for me to argue, but I can’t seem to find any words.

Johanna shakes her head and reaches for her coffee. “Love… is weird. I’ll give you that. But it’s also not the kind of thing you just throw away.”

She gives me one last stern look before grabbing her coffee and heading down the aisle, never stopping to look back.

*-*-*-*

The house is quiet when I return from work.

I put my coat and shoes away and wander into the dark kitchen, half expecting to see signs of dinner underway. Instead I find a note on the refrigerator, pinned up with the Lady magnet.

Took Lily out for dinner. Figured we’d give you some space. – Peeta

I’m both relieved and disappointed, the conflicting emotions making my head spin uncomfortably. I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes. The distant headache that’s been building all day looms brighter as I try to work through my confusion.

With a sigh, I open my eyes and decide to find something to eat. I make a simple sandwich and glass of milk and sit down at the table.

It’s strange, eating in here alone. Before Peeta and Lily moved back in, I rarely ate in the kitchen. I’d take my food into the living room and watch TV, or even up to my bedroom on occasion. One of the perks of living alone, I guess. But since they arrived, meals have always been in the kitchen. More formal. More like a real family. We even have unofficial seating arrangements – with Peeta closer to the stove, me near the sink, and Lily sandwiched in between.

I’m sitting in my usual seat, but something is off. I feel like a stranger in my own home. The kitchen is not the warm, cozy center of the house I’ve grown accustomed to. I’m serenaded not by Lily’s singing or Peeta’s constant stream of consciousness, but the hum of the refrigerator and the hiss of the baseboard heat.

I eat quickly, then wash my single plate and glass and put them in the strainer to dry. The headache is still there, so I take a couple of Tylenol and head upstairs to change for bed.

Funny. The heavy silence makes my head hurt more than any noise ever could.

*-*-*-*

Peeta comes home an hour later. Through my bedroom door, I can hear his familiar heavy tread come up the stairs and into his room as he puts Lily to bed. He sings an off key lullaby and wishes her sweet dreams.

A few minutes later, I hear the water running in the shower down the hall. When he’s finished, I hear him open the door and try to tiptoe – unsuccessfully – down the hall.

His footsteps seem to pause and, for a moment, I almost think he’s going to knock on my door. But instead, I hear his bedroom door shut across the hall.

*-*-*-*

Cheese buns in the basket on the counter. Took Lily to the park. See you tonight. - Peeta

I throw the note back down on the table. This has to be intentional, him sneaking out before I got up this morning.

It was one thing when I was avoiding him, but him avoiding me? Infuriating.

I throw together my things, angrily shoving my lunch into a bag and heading for the back door.

I pause only briefly to grab two cheese buns for the road.

No point in depriving myself of breakfast.

*-*-*-*

An offsite management meeting means I get to head home a little early. I wonder if I’ll interrupt Peeta before he can sneak out again.

Part of me hopes I will.

But the house is quiet when I arrive home. No note this time.

I take off my coat and shoes, but I’m suddenly too tired to do much more. I have no desire to change or make dinner, so I head into the living room with a book. It’s a little chilly, so I reach for a blanket on the back of the couch, consciously choosing to grab Peeta’s plaid throw instead of Prim’s quilt.

I’m a few pages in when I hear the sound of keys in the front door lock. I’m suddenly nervous, pulling my legs up into myself and clutching my book like a lifeline.

“Katniss. Hi.” Peeta stops and studies me before closing the door behind him. “I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.”

I shrug, not really wanting to get into the details now. “Where’s Lily?” I ask, watching him put his keys in the bowl on the side table and hang his coat on the coat rack.

“Uh, she’s with Delly.”

“Delly?”

“Yeah, she called earlier about looking at a possible house. I told her I wasn’t available until you got home from work, but she insisted I just bring Lily along. I had an appointment after, so Delly offered to babysit for a few hours. She should be bringing her back for dinner.”

“Oh,” I reply, my insides twisting.

“I’m actually glad she did,” he says, coming to sit beside me on the couch. He leaves a wide berth, staying close to the opposite arm. “I wanted to talk to you about the way I acted the other day.”

“What do you mean?” The scowl rises before I have a chance to stop it. How he acted the other day?

“I need to apologize.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I was a jerk. I got upset and defensive when I had no place being that way. Your feelings are completely valid.”

I nod, not really sure if I’m ready to accept an apology from Peeta.

“And it’s really my own fault. I should have explained things sooner. There just never seemed to be a good time-” He stops himself, shakes his head. “No. No more excuses. I screwed up. I’m glad it’s all out in the open now, but I do regret how it happened.”

“I’m sorry, too,” I reply. “I shouldn’t have gotten so angry.”

“No, you have every right to be angry, Katniss,” he insists. “You’re still grieving. You’ve had one shock after another this year. And then to feel so betrayed on top of that…”

I shrug and play with a thread on the blanket, uncomfortable and unsure how to respond. Johanna’s right. I’m terrible at feelings.

“But…” He shuffles a little on the couch. “But I can’t go on like this… Ignoring each other… Not talking when things get hard...” I look away. We’re both guilty of that this week. “You’re my family, Katniss. My best friend. Everything else aside, I don’t want to lose that. So I thought, if I stopped acting so wounded, maybe we could go back to being friends again. What do you think?”

I don’t respond right away. His offer does sound enticing. Takes the pressure off, somehow. But is it possible to just move forward after everything that’s happened? Where does that really leave us?

Instead of answering his question, I hone in on the thing that’s been bothering me since the beginning of our conversation.

“You looked at another house?” I ask, my voice meeker than I intend.

I glance back to see Peeta’s face soften. “I won't make any rash decisions. I just thought... until we can both figure everything out, it might be for the best. At least to keep our options open.”

I consider his suggestion and all its meaning while studying his face for the first time. When he got home, I was too anxious to really notice the slight puffiness to his eyes, the pale pallor of his skin. “Have you been crying?” I ask, my concern shifting from the topic at hand.

“A little,” he says hoarsely. He lets out a sigh and drops his head on the back of the couch. “My appointment – I’m seeing a psychologist. Today was my first visit.” He closes his eyes and lets out another breath. “Didn’t realize it would beat me up quite so much.”

My fingers twitch to reach for him, to bring him comfort, but I hold back. Somehow I feel responsible for his pain. “Is it because of… us?”

He opens his eyes, reaching a hand out and just grazing my leg over the blanket. “No, no. It’s something I’ve wanted to do for a while. I have a lot of baggage… issues with my mother, losing my family, then everything that happened with Prim… I thought talking them out with a professional would be a step in the right direction. Today was hard, but I think in the long run, it’s going to be help me be a better father to Lily.”

“Oh. That’s good, then.” The very thought of talking about my past – with a stranger, no less – terrifies me, but I’m glad to hear Peeta is getting some solace from his visit.

He stands, stretches a bit and looks at the clock. “Delly should be bringing Lily back in about an hour. I think I’ll take a quick nap, let you get back to your book.”

I nod, turning the book over in my lap again. He gives me a worried look, tipping his head to the side and studying me for a minute. “We’re… okay. Right?”

“Yeah,” I reply, giving him a small smile. “Friends,” I add, finally accepting his offer.

“Friends,” he repeats with a nod, his voice tinged with both sadness and relief.

Chapter Text

“Turkey’s coming along.” Peeta sits back down on his side of the couch. “Did I miss anything good?”

“Just the SpongeBob balloon,” I answer, wrinkling my nose. “I do not understand the appeal of that show.”

“My brother Phil and I loved it,” Peeta says with a sad laugh. “Andy – not so much. We used to wrestle for the remote; he always wanted to watch the Food Network. Was going to be a big fancy chef someday.”

I glance over at him. His face is still trained on the television, but I can tell he’s trying to hold back tears. He rarely talks about his family, but the holidays must be hard for him, even after all this time. I reach over and squeeze his shoulder, rubbing his arm lightly before quickly pulling away.

I ache inside to do more; give him a hug, or take his hand and let him know I’m here for him. But I don’t dare. We’ve barely touched since our talk a few weeks ago. He’s been careful to keep his agreement of friendship – and nothing more – between us, and I’ve been careful not to confuse him with more than I’m ready to give right now.

It makes things cleaner, but not exactly comfortable.

The doorbell rings, interrupting the awkward silence that’s built between us. Peeta finally tears his gaze from the television to give me a small smile. “Would you mind letting Haymitch in? I should get back in the kitchen to check on things.”

I sense he wants some time to compose himself before dealing with gruff Haymitch. “Of course,” I reply.

With a grateful nod, he heads back into the kitchen. I pick Lily up from her spot on the floor and try to paste on a smile as I go to greet our guest.

*-*-*-*

“Everything looks delicious, Peeta,” Haymitch says, pouring each of us a glass of wine.

“Thank you,” Peeta answers, handing Lily a sippy cup before joining us at the table.

“I wanted to thank you for having me over today,” Haymitch continues. “And I just have to say –” He holds up his wine glass toward Peeta and Lily. “I, for one, am thankful the two of you came into our lives this year. I can’t tell you what a difference you’ve made around here.”

Haymitch nods his head in my direction. “You know, this one’s been through more tough times than most. Certainly more than she deserves. Pain like that can take a toll on a person. But these past few months, I’ve seen her happier than I've ever seen her. And I know that’s got everything to do with you and that little girl. So - cheers.”

Peeta and I pick up our glasses and toast with Haymitch. At the last minute, Peeta gently taps my glass with his as well, but he doesn’t take a drink, quickly standing to carve the turkey instead.

Haymitch scowls at Peeta’s abrupt motion. “So, did you two work on this meal together?” he asks. “Should I be looking for eggshells in my mashed potatoes?”

“There are no eggs in mashed potatoes, Haymitch,” I grumble, taking a sip of wine.

Peeta chuckles. “No, I did the cooking. Katniss kept Lily entertained for me.”

“Heh. I would have thought the two of you would have been fighting for control of that turkey. This was always Sweetheart’s favorite holiday, and every year she’d practically throw me out of the kitchen, afraid I’d screw something up.” Haymitch winks in my direction. “Which I probably would have.”

“Definitely,” I mutter.

Haymitch waves a hand in the air. “Eh, too many cooks in the kitchen and all that.” He looks at Peeta. “You probably never had that problem, being married to Prim. She always preferred ordering takeout rather than set one foot near a stove.” Haymitch chuckles at his own joke, smiling sadly as he remembers the girl who always kept him on his toes. But at the mention of Prim’s name, I watch Peeta clutch the back of his chair until his knuckles turn white.

“Well, that may have been a side of effect of being taken care of her entire life,” I reply dryly. “Someone else always made sure she had something to eat. Prim never had to cook.”

I realize my tone is a little too biting by the way Haymitch frowns at me. “Well, I don’t think there’s any need to be so cold, Sweetheart. It’s Thanksgiving. That’s your sister you’re talking about. And his wife,” he adds, waving a thumb in Peeta’s direction.

I look away, scolded.

Peeta sits down heavily. “Bread?” he asks, reaching for the basket of bread and holding it close to Haymitch’s face.

“Uh, sure,” Haymitch answers, taking a roll and moving it to his plate. As he reaches for the basket, Peeta snatches it from under his nose and places it back on the table beside him.

“I was going to see if anyone else wanted some bread,” Haymitch grumbles, nodding his head toward me. Now it’s Peeta’s turn to look chastened.

“Sorry. Would you like some bread, Katniss?” Peeta holds the basket in my direction, but keeps his eyes on the rolls.

“Not right now. Thank you.” My voice doesn’t sound like my own. It’s too formal; too guarded.

Haymitch frowns, looking between the two of us suspiciously. “Brrr,” he finally says. “What’s going on around here? You guys fighting or something?”

“No,” we both answer at the same time. I glance at Peeta, whose blue eyes meet mine briefly, then quickly flit away.

“No one’s fighting,” I answer again, swooping my fork through my potatoes and taking a bite.

Peeta smiles unconvincingly and offers the gravy boat to our guest. Haymitch gives us both a doubtful look, but takes the dish without question.

“So,” Haymitch begins again, breaking the silence. “What are your plans for Christmas? More of this fun? Not that I’m inviting myself…”

“Of course you’re invited, Haymitch,” I reply with an exaggerated smile. “You’re always welcome here.”

“Aw, thanks, Sweetheart,” he says sarcastically. “But seriously, it’ll be nice to have Lily to spoil this Christmas. It never really feels like a holiday without children around.” He makes a funny face at Lily, eliciting a giggle. “And I have to admit – it was pretty lonely around here last year, with you all off in Denver. I’m glad you decided to say goodbye to that preppy ski town for good.”

“It wasn’t so bad!” Peeta protests goodnaturedly. “And actually, we’re going back there in a few weeks.”

“What?!” My heart skips a beat, a wave of panicked anger rising up. He can’t be leaving just because of-

“Just for a couple of days,” Peeta clarifies, hands raised in surrender. “We’ll be back before Christmas.” He turns to Haymitch to continue the explanation. “I’ve been subletting my apartment, but the lease is up at the end of the year. There are some things I need to take care of before that happens.”

“But… But –” My mind is spinning at this sudden news. “How can you go now? Flights must be insane this time of year. And hotels –”

“We’ll stay with Finnick and Annie, so no worries about hotels. And I actually got a great deal on my flight from one of those ‘last minute sales’ emails. I only need one ticket; Lily can sit in my lap.”

“No.”

“’No’?” Peeta gives me a puzzled look, glancing at Haymitch quickly before correcting me. “Katniss, I have to go. This isn’t-“

“No,” I interrupt. “No, I mean: Lily shouldn’t go. She should stay here. With me.”

“Katniss, no, I couldn’t ask you to do that. You have work… It's too much.”

“You said it’s only a couple of days, right? I have a comp day to use up before the end of the year, anyway. The rest of the time I can work from home, catch up when she’s sleeping. The office is dead this time of year. I can do it,” I insist.

“Are you sure?” he asks warily.

“I’m sure,” I reply firmly. “It doesn’t make sense to drag her across the country. It will only mess with her routine, and make things harder for you. Won’t it?”

“I guess,” he concedes, though his eyes are still troubled.

“I can help, too,” Haymitch chimes in. “If you need an extra set of hands. I’m as good as retired.”

I give Haymitch a grateful smile before turning my attention back to the nervous father beside him. “I want to, Peeta. I want this chance to spend time with her. Just us girls.”

This seems to finally convince him. He strokes Lily’s cheek with the back of his hand and sighs in acceptance. “Okay. I think that would be nice.”

“Okay,” I repeat.

Peeta meets my eyes and, for the first time all night, doesn’t immediately look away. He gives me a warm, but cautious, smile and mouths a silent “Thank you.”

After a moment, Haymitch clears his throat. “Well now that that’s all settled-” He reaches between us and we both watch as he grabs another roll from the basket and takes a big bite. “I don’t know about the two of you, but I’m going to enjoy this delicious meal so I can move on to the most important part of this holiday: pie.”

“Pie! Pie!” Lily repeats, her arms raised joyfully. The three of us laugh easily, any tension from before forgotten.

“Like father, like daughter,” I say, returning Peeta’s sheepish grin.

*-*-*-*

The process of grief is a strange journey. It’s full of highs and lows, guilty moments of joy punctuated by periods of deep sorrow, sometimes with little to no warning.

So much of this year has surprised me.

I’ve found the smaller anniversaries hit me much harder than I would have expected. I knew Christmas would be hard, but I never anticipated the sudden tears on April Fool’s day, remembering how Prim always played a silly prank on me. I had another breakdown in early Fall, seeing the local college students moving into their dorms.

Yet the biggest anniversary of all - the anniversary of her passing, the day we lost her forever - doesn’t crush me as I think it will.

Perhaps it’s because I’ve had a year to prepare for this. Knowing how Prim’s birthday broke me, I did all I could to ensure I could hold things together today. I went to work like any other day, and I even scheduled an important meeting so I would be distracted and busy. Johanna shook her head when she got the invitation, but understood my intention.

That’s not to say I never get upset. I woke in the morning from a lovely dream of Prim that was so convincing, I was heartbroken when I realized it wasn’t real. Rue sent me a sweet text that brought tears to my eyes, as did a call from Madge, to tell me she was thinking of me.

But I am not wracked with sobs or unable to function as I have been on other milestone dates. Instead, I allow myself to remember, moments of quiet reflection on what I’ve lost, but not at the sake of everything that is left behind.

What does finally break me is Peeta. We crossed paths in the morning, so I don’t really see him until I get home from work. When I enter the kitchen, he pulls me into his arms and just holds me. I’m surprised at first, but I finally reach my arms around him and hug him back.

It’s the first time he’s really touched me in weeks, and the human contact is enough to melt my resolve. The tears come unbidden. I soak the shoulder of his shirt, taking in the sweet smell of him as he silently strokes my back.

When I’ve finally calmed, he releases me with a gentle - and brief - kiss to my forehead. He backs away slowly, returning to the stove to stir a steaming pot without a word.

I realize we’re back to our stalemate. I rub my arms briskly, trying to bring some warmth back after the sudden chill.

*-*-*-*

Peeta leaves for Denver on a Tuesday. He books a cab ride to the airport, insisting he doesn't want to inconvenience anyone. After a dozen last minute reminders about Lily's schedule, and several lingering hugs and kisses for her, he moves out onto the porch.

Before leaving, he studies me carefully, troubled eyes traveling over my face in search of something. His mouth parts, but he struggles for words, glancing between Lily and I nervously. Rather than let this go on and risk him missing his flight, I take the initiative and pull him into a one armed hug, Lily perched on my hip. “It’ll be fine,” I whisper in his ear. “We’ll see you in a few days.”

I feel him sigh slightly against my neck, his warm breath and rough beard sending shivers down my spine. He places a feather-light kiss to my cheek and one more on Lily’s forehead. Before I know it, he’s in the cab looking out at us.

I try to wave cheerfully as they pull away.

*-*-*-*

My first day alone with Lily is actually a joy. It’s a special challenge, taking care of a toddler by myself, but I love spending this time with her. I find myself bonding with her more, getting to know her a little differently without the heavy influence of Peeta over our shoulder.

She’s growing so quickly these past few months, learning something new nearly every moment of every day. She’s going to be two soon, and she amazes me with some new skill at every turn.

We Skype with Peeta in the evening. He’s gotten settled at Finnick and Annie’s house and calls us from their guest room. He looks a little tired, but his face lights up the moment he sees us.

“Hi, Daddy!” I say, waving Lily’s hand and drawing her attention to the screen.

“Daddy!” she calls, reaching for his image.

“Lily-bug! Oh, I miss you so much. Are you being a good girl for Katniss?”

“Kissy,” she repeats, turning to point at me.

“She’s been very good,” I answer for the both of us, squeezing her a little tighter. Peeta smiles, his eyes shining.

It’s so strange, being on the other side of a camera talking to him again. Only I’m here with Lily, and he’s there, thousands of miles away. Alone.

“Daddy?” Lily asks again, reaching for the screen once more.

“I’m here, sweetheart,” he answers. “I’ll be home soon.”

“Daddy! Home?” She’s confused and becoming more agitated by the minute, wriggling in my arms and trying to get down from the couch.

“Lily-” I try to pick her up but she goes boneless, her focus on grabbing my phone propped on the coffee table.

“Lily - it’s okay, honey,” Peeta says, an anxious trill creeping into his voice.

“Daddy!” she wails, throwing herself on the floor and burying her head in the carpet as she sobs mournfully.

“Peeta, I should-”

“Get her,” he answers quickly, defeated.

“I’ll call you back later,” I promise. His forlorn frown breaks my heart. “She’s just tired,” I add, my voice barely audible over the escalating tantrum.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “It’s fine. Just - take care of her. Please.”

He’s disconnected the call before I can say goodbye.

*-*-*-*

“Hey. You doing okay?”

Peeta lets out a sigh on the other end of the line. “I guess.”

“She’s a toddler, Peeta. She didn't nap well today, and you're not here… It's totally normal.”

He’s quiet. “Did she settle down?” he asks softly.

“In about two minutes. I gave her a snack, read her a story, and she was out like a light. Honest.” I yawn, adjusting the blankets around me in bed. “We were both pretty tired.”

He sighs again. “Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?”

“Forgive you?” I chuckle. “For what? You’re a wonderful father. Being away from her for a few days is perfectly acceptable. There's nothing to forgive.”

“Mmm.” He doesn't sound convinced. “Then do you think…” He trails off.

“What?” I ask, leaning back against my pillow.

“Do you think you’ll ever forgive me?” His voice is pained.

“Peeta…”

“I hate this, Katniss.” He’s silent for a moment, and I listen to Lily softly snoring through the baby monitor beside me. “I miss you so much,” he quietly adds.

“You’ll be home before you know it.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he croaks.

“I know,” I murmur.

“I’m sorry,” he says with a groan. “Ignore me. I’m a mess - being back here with all these memories, alone; being away from Lily for the first time… Plus, I'm pretty tired, too… and jet lag... I'm not thinking straight.”

“Yeah,” I reply, jumping at this excuse to change the subject. “You should get some rest. It's been a long day.”

“You, too,” he insists. “You’ve got to be exhausted, chasing after her all day on your own. Thank you so much for doing this.”

“Don't be silly. I love every minute of it. Lily's amazing.”

“Well. Thank you anyway.”

“You're welcome, anyway.”

Peeta chuckles, his voice a little less tense. “I’ll let you get some sleep. I’ll call you again tomorrow?”

“That’s probably best. Skype will probably just confuse Lily.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Well… Goodnight, Katniss.”

“Goodnight, Peeta.”

We disconnect the call, and I tuck into my blankets, readying myself for sleep. It's true, I am exhausted, but my mind is racing now, a tangle of thoughts and worries keeping me from settling down.

After tossing and turning a few times, a whimper on the baby monitor wakes me even further. I throw back the covers and head into Peeta's room to check on Lily.

The noises I heard must have been her talking in her sleep. She’s snoring softly, but has worked herself into a corner of the crib, kicking off her blankets in the process. I adjust her, covering her back up with the blanket her father made her. I watch her sleep for a few minutes, her face smooth and peaceful.

Being solely responsible for this little person is a new and overwhelming feeling. I can better understand Peeta now, and his desire to keep her near him as much as possible. I’m definitely more relaxed in here, having her close by, rather than separated by a hallway.

I glance behind me. Without a second thought, I climb into Peeta’s bed. I nestle in and pull the blankets up around me. As I turn my head, I can smell his spicy scent on the pillow and it’s like he's right here beside me instead of thousands of miles away. I burrow in, taking a deep breath and imagining that the weight of the blankets is actually his arms holding me.

My body calms and I'm out within minutes.

*-*-*-*

Lily keeps me busy, her routine becoming my own and helping me stay focused during the day.

But during the nights… I’m antsy. A nervous energy keeps me from resting. I’m haunted by a strange feeling of incompleteness, as though I’m missing a limb.

Peeta’s nightly phone calls help, but I find as each day passes, the anxiety grows stronger. I’m convinced it’s a side effect of having my family scattered again; once we’re all back under the same roof, I can relax and everything can go back to normal.

The only thing that helps me sleep is spending the nights in Peeta’s bed. I tell myself it’s a practical decision, the best way for me to keep an eye on Lily.

I repeat it over and over in my head until I almost believe it.

*-*-*-*

Peeta. He’s here. His flight landed a little while ago, and soon I can touch him. See his smile. Hear his laugh.

I'm light-headed with giddiness. What will I say? Oh, who cares what I say? Peeta will be ecstatic to be home no matter what I do. He'll probably be too busy hugging me to say much anyway.

Oh! There he is. Sitting in the terminal. He turns to see me and his features register something intense that I can't quite place. Desire? Desperation? He sweeps the other passengers aside, leaps to his feet, and moves toward me. I run to meet him, my arms extended to embrace him. His hands are reaching for me, too, to caress my face, I think.

My lips are just forming his name when his fingers lock around my throat.

“Ah!”

I wake with a start, jumping off the couch as my heart beats wildly in my chest. What a strange nightmare.

I scold myself for falling asleep in the first place. Peeta’s coming home tonight, and I wanted to stay up until he arrives. I only sat down on the couch for a few minutes, but Lily ran me ragged today, and Peeta’s blanket is so warm...

Shaking my head, I grab my phone and check on his flight, relieved to see it landed as scheduled. He’s taking a taxi home, and should be back in less than an hour. Finally.

To keep my mind occupied I turn on the TV and decide to work on the basket of clean clothes I’ve been avoiding. As I fold one of Lily’s onesies, a breaking news announcement catches my attention.

"...are advised to avoid I-91 north tonight. A large accident has closed three lanes near Bradley International Airport. Multiple vehicles were involved, including a tractor trailer. Stay tuned for more news at 11."

"Peeta." His name leaves me like a breath.

My mind whirls. Peeta should be on the road now. But he couldn't be involved...

I decide to call his cell, just to warn him of the possible delay. Just out of common courtesy. It’s not like I have any reason to be worried.

With trembling fingers, I pick his name from my contacts. I just need to hear his voice, and then I'll be okay. But instead of being greeted by Peeta's comforting timber, I get his standard voice mail message.

It's not like him; he always answers his phone. He makes a point of being available just in case something happens with Lily.

I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation. Maybe his phone is still on flight mode. I decide to send him a text instead; I'm sure he'll respond as soon as he gets it.

Katniss (9:53 PM) - Just checking in. There was a big accident on the highway, so be careful.

I hit send and go about doing anything I can to distract myself as I wait. More laundry. Reading. Boiling water for tea. I pick up the scarf he was teaching me to knit, but my fingers won't focus.

I check the time more often than is healthy. His scheduled arrival time comes and goes. The 11:00 news reports two fatalities in the highway accident; no other information is available pending notification of next of kin.

I turn off the TV.

Still no word from Peeta.

More time passes. He’s now nearly an hour late. I send him another text. Maybe he didn't notice the first one.

Katniss (11:36 PM) - Sorry to bother you, but please let me know if you're okay... Starting to get worried.

I find myself sitting on the armchair, ramrod straight, my knees bouncing frantically. What do I do? Who do I call? Do I start with hospitals? Would they even tell me anything? I'm sure I'm just being silly, but my heart is racing, my mind a blur of worst case scenarios.

It's a little before midnight when I hear the gentle scraping of keys in the lock. I bolt from the chair and race to the door. An exhausted Peeta walks in and gives me a small smile as he closes it behind him. "I'm so sorry I'm - oof!"

He drops his bags to the floor, his words cut off as my arms wrap around him, squeezing the breath from his lungs.

"Katniss...? Hey - you're shaking." His voice is cautious, soft, as though he's speaking to child. I can feel his hand gently stroking my hair. "What's wrong?"

I burrow my face into his wool coat, inhaling the scent of cinnamon and musk that always lingers there. "You were late. There was an accident. I was afraid..." My voice breaks.

"Oh..." His voice drops in understanding and his arms tighten around me. "Oh, I hoped you hadn't heard about that."

So he knew. He knew and he didn't reach out to me. He let me sit here and anguish for nothing. I let my fear morph into anger. It's a much more manageable emotion, in my opinion.

I back myself out of his arms, pushing lightly against his chest. "Why didn't you call me? Or answer any of my texts?" I spit the words at him, willing myself to hate him. To feel anything but this overwhelming joy running through my veins at his presence. "You're over an hour late, Peeta. It would have been common courtesy to let me know where you were." I stomp over to the couch and throw myself down, folding my arms across my chest like a petulant child.

He studies me, his brow furrowed, arms limp at his sides. I've taken a blissful reunion, this moment we've both waited days for, and ruined it. Turned it into an argument. Because I'm too scared of my own feelings to deal with them.

"I would have called, Katniss. Honest. But my phone died. I dropped it on my way to the airport, and it wouldn't turn back on." He sits down beside me on the couch. I spare a glance in his direction, only now noticing how weary he looks.

"And then... There was this woman, who reminded me so much of you. Her hair..." He reaches out, brushing a lock of my hair across my cheek and tucking it behind my ear. His fingers linger, repeating the motion lightly. My eyes flutter closed involuntarily at the sensation.

"I felt bad; she was so frustrated and eager to get home, so I - I let her take my cab."

My eyes open, taking in the grief in his features. "Peeta?"

He nods. "The accident happened right in front of me. I was a few cars back, but we saw it all. After... a few of us tried to help, but there was nothing we could do." He shakes his head and stares at the floor. I put a hand on his arm, some attempt at comfort.

"The police needed us to stay, to give statements. I would have called you... I thought about asking someone to borrow their phone, but you’ve been so tired taking care of Lily, I thought you'd already be asleep. I didn't want to wake you."

"How could I sleep?" I murmur. "When I knew you were coming home to me?"

He turns to me, his blue eyes hopeful. “Katniss…” He takes my hand between his, rubbing lightly. They’re cold; I bring my other hand on top of his to try to warm them, eliciting a smile. “Katniss,” he begins again. “Tonight, all I could think about was how – we lost Prim in just a blink of an eye. And it could happen again. At any moment, everything that is precious to me could be taken away.”

“Lily is fine, Peeta–“

“Not Lily,” he interrupts. “You. Katniss, if I lost you…I would never be happy again.” I start to object but he puts a finger to my lips. “Please. Let me finish.”

I frown slightly, but stay silent, letting him say his piece.

“Katniss, I’m tired of pretending, trying to ignore my feelings. The truth is…I love you. I’ve loved you for so long now. Maybe a small part of me fell in love with you before I even met you, through pictures and Prim’s stories about you...” He reaches for me, his hands cupping my neck, his voice softer, sweeter. “Do you even know? Do you have any idea how amazing you are?”

Blue watery eyes study me, his thumbs gently stroking my cheeks. My breath hitches as it hits me: Johanna was right. I love him. With every fiber in my being, I love him. And I can’t bear to be apart from him anymore.

I jump up from the couch, my hand flying to my mouth. How could I have been so blind?

“Katniss-” Peeta quickly joins me, his face slack with terror as he misinterprets my response as a sign I’m fleeing. “Please, don’t-”

“Peeta…” Words are not my best form of communication; action is. Suddenly I’m kissing him, standing on my toes, my hands in his curls, my mouth exploring his with frantic need. He hesitates for a moment but then kisses me back, first with the same vigor but then more slowly. Tenderly. I only realize I’ve been crying when I taste the salt of tears on his lips.

And then he’s hugging me, holding me so tight I’m sure we could climb inside each other. I want to. I want to be inside him forever. I never want him to let me go.

“I can’t believe… So long… God, I’ve wanted to tell you …” I can hear him mumbling words of love in my ear, so softly it sounds like he’s talking to himself. He pulls back, his large hands cradling my face again. I can see that he’s crying, too.

I kiss him again. Now that I’ve started, I never want to stop. “I’m sorry…” I murmur through my tears. “I’m so sorry-”

He shakes his head and presses his forehead to mine. “Don’t. We can’t look back. We can only go forward. We’re here now; there’s no point in worrying about the past.”

The past. Prim. And Lily. The messed up circumstances that brought us here. It's all too much to consider: the what-if’s, what might have been if things had turned out differently. My mind spins, and I go slack against him, letting his strong arms hold me up.

Peeta pulls me tighter to his chest. “We’ll be okay, Katniss. I know you’re scared, but we can be strong together.”

I nod into his chest, too overwhelmed to speak. I have a strange sense of deja vu, a memory of him holding me like this for the first time over a year ago, in Denver. Is this where we were always headed?

“You must be exhausted,” he says. “Let's get you up to bed. We can talk more tomorrow.”

He steps back, taking my hand and placing a kiss on the back of it. With my hand still clenched in his and his arm around my waist, we make our way up the stairs.

Peeta walks me to my door. He brings my hand up to his lips one last time, grinning down at me happily. “Goodnight,” he whispers with a gentle kiss to my forehead. But when he tries to cross the hall, I refuse to let go of his hand. His smile turns to a frown. “Katniss?”

“No. Please don't leave me alone tonight.” I kiss the back of his hand as he did with mine. “I need you, Peeta.”

“God,” he breathes. “I need you too, Katniss. So much. But I… I don’t think we should - ” He shrugs. “I mean, not yet. We should probably talk before -”

“No! I didn’t mean…” I swallow, my face flaming. “I just... want to be with you. Sleep beside you. Hold you. I’ve missed you so much.” I lean into him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “I can’t lose you again,” I mumble into his chest.

“You won’t lose me, Katniss.” He wraps his arms around me again, his hand cupping my head. “I love you. You’re stuck with me.”

I smile into his chest then pull back and lead him to his bedroom door. “I’m sure you want to see Lily. We can stay in your room tonight.”

He nods, following me and heading to Lily’s crib. He watches her sleep for a while, kisses his palm and presses it to her cheek. By the time he’s turned around, I'm already in the bed waiting for him.

He removes his coat, revealing the orange sweater I gave him last Christmas. He glances down at it, then looks back at me, shrugging sheepishly. The sweater comes off over his head, and his hand immediately moves to tame the mussed curls. I can't take my eyes off of him.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, his hands freezing at the waist of jeans. I nod and hold my hand out to him wordlessly.

After kicking off his pants, he stops for a moment, looking strangely vulnerable in his plain white t-shirt and black boxer briefs. I lift up the covers and beckon him to join me.

He slides in, opening his arms to me. I nestle into him, my head on his chest and his hand on my shoulder holding me close. I clutch at his t-shirt and his other hand covers mine.

I haven't left this town in months, but suddenly, I’m home.

Chapter Text

After thinking I’d lost him forever, I find it hard to let go of Peeta, my muscles taut as I hold him close. But eventually sleep claims us both, the events of the day wearing us down.

I sleep fitfully, plagued by images of wrecked cars, the sight of varying blond heads coated in blood.

In the early hours of the morning, I'm woken suddenly when Peeta grips my hand tightly in his own. He whimpers my name then sits up in bed, panting.

“Peeta,” I whisper. “It's okay.”

“Katniss?” he repeats, a hushed plea. “I had a dream. You were hurt. I - I couldn’t protect you.”

“I’m safe, Peeta. I'm here.” I sit up and wrap my arms around his back, kissing the back of his neck. “I'm here.”

I guide him back under the covers and return to my spot on his chest.

“Katniss?” he asks again.

“Mmm.” I close my eyes, soaking in the smell of him. He’s still trembling. I run my hand around his side, clutching him to me. I will make him feel safe. I can do this much for him.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says sleepily.

“I’m glad you’re here, too, Peeta.”

We hold each other tight until the sun rises. Slowly the nightmares fade like fog.

For now.

*-*-*-*

I'm woken when a tiny weight lands on my chest.

I open my eyes to see a blur of blond and blue only inches from my face.

“Kissy. Morn-y!”

I untangle from Peeta and move to a sitting position, pulling Lily into my lap. Peeta’s awake now, too and sits up with us. “Since when can she climb out of her crib?” he asks, awed.

“I thought you knew.” I chuckle beside him. “Who taught you that, little monkey?” I tease, giving her a squeeze.

“Lily. Monkey,” she repeats proudly.

“Did my Lily-bug turn into a monkey when I was away?” Peeta asks, scooping her from my arms and raining kisses all over her. “I don't see any fur…” he says as he lifts one arm in the air, then the other. Lily shrieks with giggles as he kisses her cheeks, belly and feet. “Do you like to hang from trees now?” he asks, flipping her upside down by her legs and planting a kiss on the tip of her nose.

“Daddy!” she shouts between giggles.

He turns her back upright and wraps her in a bear hug, kissing the top of her head and breathing deeply. “I missed you so much, baby girl,” he murmurs, closing his eyes. Lily nestles into his chest.

I rub Lily’s back, feeling a desperate need to be a part of the reunion before me. When I graze Peeta’s hand, he grabs for me, locking our hands together. He wraps his other arm around me, pulling the three of us back onto the bed into a mass of cuddling limbs.

“Let’s just stay here. Like this. Forever,” he says, his voice as soft as the sunrise outside our window.

“Forever, huh?” I ask, looking up at him as I snuggle deeper into his side.

“Mm-hmm.” He nods, his eyes fluttering closed again. “ Forever . I’ve got a nice warm bed and my two favorite girls. What more could a person need?”

“Hmm…” I pretend to consider this proposal. “What about... bathroom breaks?”

Peeta laughs and tightens his hold on me. “That’s my Katniss. Always so practical.”

My Katniss . I bury my grin in his chest, something inside me flipping at his words.

*-*-*-*

When I wake again, he and Lily are gone, but he’s left a note for me on the end table. “Come down for breakfast when you’re ready. -P” He’s even drawn a little heart next to the ‘P’ which makes me blush like a schoolgirl.

After all this time together, I’m surprised at the butterflies I feel when I walk into the kitchen. His back is turned to me as he works at the stove, so I pause a moment to take in the view. His curls are wild, his clothes rumpled from sleep, and yet, somehow, I can’t look away. He’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

“Good morning. Again,” I say finally.

“Yes. It is,” he says, throwing me a boyish grin.

He turns his attention back to the stove, and I have a sudden need to be closer to him. Even though he’s here in the kitchen with me, he feels impossibly far away.

I move behind him. As he spoons the last bit of batter on the griddle, I wrap my arms around his waist. He startles at first, looking at me sheepishly over his shoulder. “I’ll never get used to how quietly you walk.”

“Sorry,” I reply, leaning my head against his back. “I’ll try to walk louder.”

He turns, gathering me in his arms. “Don’t. Don’t change a single thing. You’re perfect exactly as you are.” I roll my eyes, knowing I’m far from perfect, but he squeezes my waist before I can protest. “You are . You’re perfect to me. I love you.”

I’m overcome with emotion, locked on his warm blues, and aching to try the words out myself. “I love you, too,” I whisper timidly. He lights up with pure happiness, a joy on his face I usually only see when he watches Lily. He’s as radiant as the sun.

He leans in slowly, waiting for permission, and I meet him halfway. It’s a gentle kiss, sweet and clean enough for our toddler audience, yet still enough to send shivers down my spine.

I don’t think I’ll ever tire of kissing those soft, warm lips.

He tips his chin and places one more kiss on my nose. “I should probably-” He nods his head back toward the stove.

I get a whiff of pancakes and my stomach rumbles. Placing my hands on his hips, I turn him back to his post. “Get back to work. I’ll get some plates.”

Together, we finish the preparation. We take our seats on either side of Lily and for a moment I imagine we almost look like a real family. A flicker of guilt rises up, that it’s me sitting here with them instead of Prim, but I swallow it down and try to focus on enjoying our meal together.

*-*-*-*

After breakfast, a snowstorm rolls in. It’s the weekend, and we’re both exhausted from the events of the last week, so we decide to hide out. We stay in our pajamas all day. Peeta makes popcorn and we curl up on the couch and watch old movies.

Lily is extra clingy now that Peeta’s returned, so he sets up blankets and pillows on the living room floor for her nap instead of putting her back in her crib. He lights a fire in the fireplace and the three of us fall asleep for a few hours together.

I wake with my head on his chest and Lily’s tiny hand wrapped around my fingers. I’m content to hide here, hidden in our little cave of pillows, and pretend we’re the only people in the world.

*-*-*-*

For the next two days, Peeta and I are inseparable. The days are filled with touching and cuddling and holding hands, and at night, we fall into his bed and into each other’s arms without even discussing it.

Nothing else happens. Despite some passionate good night kisses, our clothes stay on and our touches remain chaste. We’ve confessed our feelings, but I’m not ready to move to a physical relationship just yet. I suspect he feels the same, or senses my hesitation. Either way, there’s an unspoken agreement between us that we’re going to wait for now.

Well… an unspoken agreement, and an-almost-two-year-old who keeps climbing out of her crib and into bed with us each night.

*-*-*-*

On Monday morning, I begrudgingly leave them to go to work.

Peeta gives me a lingering goodbye kiss that curls my toes and makes me ache with want for him the entire drive to work. My cheeks are still flush with heat as I make my way into the office.

Johanna greets me with some paperwork and a half-eaten muffin.

“One of the clients sent a box of pastries for the holidays,” she explains as she drops the files and paper plate on my desk. “I thought this was chocolate chip, but it turns out it was raisin. Blech.”

“Gee, thanks for thinking of me,” I deadpan.

“Anytime.” She hops up onto a bare spot on my desk and swings her feet, her mini-skirt riding dangerously high up her thigh. She loves to push the envelope on the ‘business casual’ dress code.

“So, Lover Boy home from his trip safely?”

“Mmm-hmm,” I answer, focusing on straightening the files she’s brought me.

She waits, one perfectly shaped eyebrow arched dramatically. When I refuse to elaborate, she pokes me in the shin with her Mary Janes. “‘ Mmm-hmm. ’ That’s it?”

I’m not in the mood to discuss the accident, the hours of worrying for his safety, sure he was dead. Never mind everything that came after . “Yeah. He got home late on Friday. A little jet-lagged. That’s all.”

My cheeks flame hotter as I feel her watching me. She’s not buying it.

“Alright, Brainless. Spill. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” I say quickly. “I’m tired. It’s Monday. ” I break off a piece of the muffin and pop it in my mouth.

“No,” Johanna says. “This is more than that. There’s something different…” She studies me, sitting up straighter as something occurs to her. “Did you get laid?”

“What?” I ask, almost choking on the muffin. “No! Why would you even ask me that?”

“There’s something different about you. You look… happy.”

“Well that’s unusual.” I roll my eyes.

“For you it is,” she continues. “You’re aggravatingly consistent. Every Monday you wear a ponytail, your black cardigan, and a scowl. I don’t see any of those this morning.”

Johanna’s exaggerating, but she’s right about my outfit. Instead of my usual cardigan and pants, I’m wearing Peeta’s orange sweater and a black pencil skirt. The sweater’s a little too big for me, but it’s so soft and warm.

Plus, it still carries his scent, which made leaving him this morning a little easier.

As for my hair, I’ve been wearing it down all weekend, recently having discovered how much Peeta loves to run his fingers through the dark tresses.

“It’s nothing, Johanna. Just trying something different for a change. Honest.” My eyes plead with her to let it drop. I’m just not ready to discuss us with anyone on the outside yet. Not until Peeta and I have had a chance to talk about what this is, what we are, what we’re doing. We’re both still trying to adjust ourselves.

She seems to get it, and nods before jumping down off the desk. “Fine. But I better be the first to find out whatever secret it is you’re keeping.”

I roll my eyes again, but as I watch her walk away, I know my days are numbered.

*-*-*-*

The weekend before Christmas, Peeta makes arrangements for Delly to babysit for a couple of hours so we can go Christmas shopping alone. He wants to surprise Lily with a miniature kitchen he’d seen in one of the sale flyers.

Delly gives us both big bear hugs when she arrives, practically bubbling over with Christmas excitement. After hearing about the gift she bought her brother and the cookie swap she attended, we finally make a break for the car. She and Lily wave to us from the porch as we go.

As soon as we close the doors, Peeta reaches for my hand across the console and laces our fingers together. This is the first time we’ve truly been alone since he came home last week.

Peeta gives my hand a squeeze then lifts it to his lips. My belly swirls with a strange mix of nerves and guilt. I understand the anxiety; this feels almost like a first date, even though I’m with a man I’ve come to know better than almost anyone else in the world. The guilt is harder to decipher.

But when he gives me an eager smile, I can’t help but return it.

*-*-*-*

Peeta pulls the car into a parking space and turns off the engine. I watch his hands fiddle with the keys, studying his thick fingers as though seeing them for the first time.

“...thought she’d like to try those, too.”

I nod seriously, my eyes traveling from his hands up to his lips.

We made quick work of the toy store, and Lily’s new kitchen is stashed safely in the trunk. On the way home, Peeta suggested stopping for some groceries, and he’s been talking almost nonstop the entire trip to the market: mundane details of his time in Colorado, ideas for dishes he wants to cook for Lily and I this week. I was listening at first, but I quickly lost focus and became enchanted by the profile of his jaw as he rambled.

He smiles and wrinkles his nose. “Sorry. I guess I’ve been doing all the talking.”

The apologetic crinkle between his eyes makes him look like a guilty child, but it doesn't deter my hunger for him. I reach across the console and bury my fingers in his curls, pulling him to me as I press my lips to that spot below his jaw I’ve been watching all morning. His pulse jumps as my tongue sweeps over it, tasting the salty skin through the stubble sprinkled down his neck.

With a groan, he drops the keys to the floor. Before I can move, he cups my neck and brings my lips to his, feverishly swallowing my moans before moving down to suckle a spot on my throat. We take turns as aggressor, each of us finding new spots on the other to kiss and suck and savor.

Eventually, I pause the frantic pace to catch my breath, leaning back just far enough to get some air. I’m about to dive in for more when Peeta leans his forehead to mine with a sigh.

“I should probably compose myself so we can get our groceries. Delly’s only available until 3.”

“Oh, wow,” I say as I glance at the dashboard clock. I’m shocked to see how long we’ve been sitting here and mortified now at my behavior. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

Peeta leans back against the headrest with a groan. “Katniss, you don’t ever have to apologize for kissing me. That was... amazing. And I can’t wait to do it all over again later.”

I try to hide my smile as I get out of the car, my embarrassment turning to pride.

*-*-*-*

Peeta grabs my hand again the second we are out of the car. We squeeze through the entrance together so we don’t have to let go of each other. He’s talking again, and I’m fixated on the curve of his mouth, eager for the reprise he has promised me later tonight.

We’re halfway through the produce section when I hear a familiar voice.

“Sweetheart? I thought that was you.”

“Haymitch!” Instinctively, I drop Peeta’s hand and move a step away. “Wh- What are you doing on this side of town?”

Haymitch scoffs and raises the half filled basket in his hands. “Uh, shopping ,” he says. He nods a head in our direction. “What about the two of you?”

“Oh, shopping, too,” I answer quickly. I glance back at Peeta who watches me with a confused - and slightly hurt - look.

“Where’s the rugrat? And where’s your cart?” Haymitch asks with a smirk.

Damnit. We never grabbed a cart or even a basket. Peeta and I were too lost in each other to pay attention to our surroundings.

“Our cart? I… We…” I send Peeta a pleading look.

He gives me a barely perceptible nod; he won’t expose me now. “No need for a cart,” he explains with an easy grin. “Just grabbing a couple of things. Lily is with Delly so we could go Christmas shopping. I hope you’re still coming over for Christmas dinner?“

Haymitch glances at me suspiciously, but I’m relieved when he turns his attention back to Peeta. “Yeah, definitely. What can I bring?”

As the two of them hash out the time and plans for the holiday, I try to ignore the sinking feeling that I’ve done something wrong.

*-*-*-*

The ride home is quiet. Peeta is silent beside me, his face unreadable.

When we pull into the driveway, he removes the keys from the ignition but hesitates before opening his door.

“Hey,” I call, drawing his attention. “Are we okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” he assures me, but his face is troubled. “Sorry, I was just… thinking.”

“About what?”

He studies me a moment. “About us. I... I guess there’s still a lot we need to talk about. I mean - I assumed we were on the same page. But maybe we’re not-”

The disappointment on his face sets me into a panic. “No, that’s not- We are ! I am! I mean…” I swallow, my heart racing. “I love you,” I say, my voice a shaky whisper.

“I love you, too.” He gives me a small smile. “But…I think maybe I’m still a few steps ahead of you. I've been in love with you for a long time now. I've imagined being with you, being a couple, what our future would be like. I'm ready for all of that. Maybe you're just not -”

“I am ,” I insist. “I swear.”

“Katniss,” he sighs. “You didn't look very comfortable when we ran into Haymitch. You seemed like you wanted to hide something. Hide us .”

“No - I didn’t!” He raises an eyebrow, and the guilt washes over me again. I lean my head back against the headrest. “I’m sorry. I panicked. I saw Haymitch, and I - I didn’t know what to say…What to tell him… What to call…” I motion between the two of us with my hand. “...this.”

He rests his head back, mirroring my position, and looks at me from the corner of his eye. “I understand. We haven't exactly discussed labels."

“Exactly,” I say, relieved. “And I guess… Without a plan… I haven’t been ready to talk about it with other people yet.”

He nods. “And that’s fine. But we have to be upfront with each other. If you’re not ready to tell people right now, that’s okay, but I need to know that. I have to know what I’m walking into so I don’t screw it up like I did today.”

“No! Peeta, you didn’t do anything wrong. If anyone screwed things up, it was me. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just promise me we can talk about this again, so I know how you’re feeling. We’re in this together.”

I take his hand and pull him to me for a gentle kiss. “I promise,” I mumble against his lips before kissing him again.

“Mmm.” He pulls back a bit and gives me a smile. “Let’s not get carried away again. Delly’s waiting for us.”

“Right,” I say. “Sorry.”

“I thought we agreed: never apologize for kisses,” he says with a laugh. He glances back at the house and gives me a thoughtful look. “Hey, what do you think about inviting Delly for Christmas dinner? She mentioned her parents moved away a few years ago, and won’t be back for the holiday. She was going to spend it with her younger brother, just the two of them.”

The thought of bubbly Delly spending Christmas more or less alone makes me sad.

“That would be nice.” A thought occurs to me.  “Actually, what do you think about asking Johanna and Blight if they want to come, too?”

I’ve been paying closer attention to Johanna’s ragged edges lately, and I’ve started to wonder if her abrasive attitude about the holiday is actually because she has no family to spend it with. She and Blight started dating recently, but he’s also a transplant here, far from home.

“I think that sounds perfect. Christmas with good friends and family. Surround ourselves with the people we love,” he says, kissing the back of my hand. “And Haymitch,” he adds with a wink.

*-*-*-*

“So what are you and Blight doing for Christmas dinner?” I ask over lunch the next afternoon.

Johanna shrugs. “I was thinking we might lay out a collection of old ornaments and walk barefoot across them. Practice for the hot coals.” She takes a bite of her leftover chicken. “Why?”

“We were wondering if you might be interested in spending the holiday with us.”

She stops and faces me more fully. “Me? Why?”

I roll my eyes. “I figured it would be my good deed for the year. See if I could make it through a dinner with both you and Haymitch without stabbing anyone with my fork.”

She snorts.

“Because it’s Christmas,” I add, dropping my sarcastic tone. “And… Peeta and I… Neither of us have any real family left. So we decided, we get to choose our own family. We choose you.”

“You think of me as family?” she asks, her voice cracking slightly.

“Of course I do,” I say, touching her arm.  “You’re one of my best friends, Jo.”

She studies me for a moment, her eyes glassy, then shudders dramatically. “Okay, this is getting too ‘Lifetime Movie of the Week’ for me.” She turns her focus back to her food. “Yeah. We’ll be there. But don’t expect me to cook anything. And the only ‘Christmas spirit’ I’ll be bringing will be the kind that comes in a bottle.”

*-*-*-*

Our first holiday together, just a year ago, was a strange blend of celebration and melancholy. The joy of Lily’s first Christmas combined with the grief of our first Christmas without Prim. Isolated together in Peeta’s apartment, we made the best of things, for Lily’s sake. But we were still somewhat in shock, still getting to know one another, and just trying to make it through the day without breaking down.

This year, the grief has stabilized, but it’s still there, simmering below the surface. The shock of losing Prim has passed, and the daily reality of life without her has taken its place. The sharp pain has faded to a dull ache that I can ignore at times, but never really forget. On top of that, I’ve got the confusion of a new relationship I’m adjusting to, blanketing everything in a blizzard of emotion.

Luckily, we’ve got dinner for eight to prepare; there’s no time to dwell on emotion .

Preparing to play hosts turns out to be the perfect distraction for our little family. The days leading up to Christmas Eve are a blur of food preparation. Peeta is coated in flour most afternoons, whipping up batches of pie crust and bread dough, while I focus on sides for the meal.

We rise early on Christmas morning, both of us bubbling over with excitement to have Lily see the tree and her gifts from Santa. She is nearly as excited as we are, though the shiny wrapping paper is a close runner up to her new kitchen.

Peeta and I agreed not to buy each other presents this year, focusing our energy on Lily and our dinner preparations instead. So when I open a package from him and Lily - a knitted throw in my favorite shade of green - the small scrapbook I made for him feels inadequate in comparison.

“What is this?” I ask, surely sounding less than grateful.

“Is that a trick question?” He gives me a wry look from his spot on the floor, head near the Christmas tree and legs stretched out under the coffee table.

“No, I mean - We weren’t supposed to - How… When did you do this?”

“Nights,” he replies. “When I couldn’t sleep or needed a distraction.”

“This is too much,” I say, fingering the soft yarn. “We said no gifts.”

“We said we wouldn’t buy gifts,” he corrects me. “And I already told you how much I love my scrapbook, and all the amazing photos you took of Lily. So we’re even.”

We’re anything but even. I want to tell him that the only gift I need is right here in a pair of flannel pants and a soft gray henley, playing ‘house’ with a toddler. But he’s already focused on the pretend tea he’s drinking with her, so there’s no point in arguing.

“Well. Thank you. It’s beautiful.” I finally say, sitting back against the couch and draping the throw across my legs with a content sigh.

“I’m glad you like it,” he says with a grin.

I watch as he and Lily play together, and wish for a moment that Prim were here on the couch beside me, watching them, too. But almost instantly, I’m struck with the truth of what I’m wishing for: if Prim were still alive, Peeta and Lily would be with her, back in Denver, and I would be here all alone. Peeta and I would never have fallen in love in a world where Prim existed.

I rub at my temple, the complexity of our situation overwhelming me once again.

Peeta leans on the palm of his hand and glances over at me. “You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah. Just tired.” I don’t want to spoil the holiday playing ‘what if’ games.  “I shouldn’t have sat down for so long. I’m trying to get motivated to get back in the kitchen. We’ve only got a few hours left before everyone gets here.”

He climbs up onto his knees and crawls toward me, shuffling around an obstacle course of discarded wrapping paper and boxes. Wedging himself between my legs, he wraps his arms around my waist and gives me a modified hug, resting his head on my thigh. “What’s that for?” I ask with a chuckle. I scratch at the hairs on the back of his head and he lets out a rumbling moan.

He lifts his head up and gives me a lazy grin. “I had to hold you for a minute. Trying to get it all of out my system before the troops arrive.”

I lean down meet him for a gentle kiss. “We won’t have to hide it forever,” I say softly. “I’m just not ready yet.”

He gives me another kiss. “And that’s perfectly fine. I’ll wait. For as long as you need.”

“Thank you.”

“But - you know what doesn’t wait?” he asks, leaning back with arched eyebrows.

“Hmm?”

“ Pie .”

With a timely beep of the oven timer, it seems I’ve found my motivation.

*-*-*-*

“You have any more wine, Sweetheart?” Haymitch asks, holding up his empty glass.

“Sure,” I reply, looking around the table at our guests’ glasses. “Anyone else need anything?”

“Do you have any more of that red?” Johanna asks. “I wanted Blight to try it.”

Beside her, her burly neighbor gives me a kind smile. “Only if it’s no trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all.”

“I’ll help you,” Peeta insists, rising from the table and following me into the kitchen.

The moment we’re alone, I’m on him, my arms around his waist and lips on his neck. I squeeze him tight, overwhelmed by a desperate need for affection.

“This is harder than I thought it would be,” I mumble, planting my head into his chest. It rumbles beneath my cheek as he chuckles.

“Why’s that?” he asks.

“I hate lying to everyone. I hate not being able to do silly things like touch you, or hold your hand, without giving it away.”

“ I knew it! ”

We spring apart as Johanna confronts us, a shit-eating grin on her face.

“Jo, please-”

“You finally jumped his bones, didn’t you?”

“Not exactly-”

“So you're not together?” she challenges. I bite my lip and glance at Peeta. “I knew something was going on, Everdeen. Admit it! I was right.”

“I-” I take a breath, trying to find the right words. Finally, I give a simple nod. “You were right,” I whisper.

“Ha!” she shouts.

Peeta pulls me into his side, rubbing my arm. “If you wouldn’t mind, Jo, Katniss and I... we aren’t ready to tell everyone else just yet. It’s complicated, and we’re still getting used to it ourselves.” I give him a  squeeze, so grateful he’s taking some of the responsibility for this off my shoulders.

“So I’m the first to know?” Johanna asks. We both nod. “That’s all I wanted.” She gives us a smile. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Thank you, Jo,” I say, leaving Peeta’s arms to give her a hug.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she says, hugging me briefly before stepping away. “Now I suggest we get some more wine in your guests so that no one else figures it out.” She helps us refill the glasses and we head back to the dining room.

The conversation around the table is lively, our strange little family blending well. Delly’s brother Sam is talking with Haymitch about law, a profession he’s considering when he finishes college in the spring. Blight is quiet and friendly, with a dry sense of humor that keeps catching all of us off guard. At one point, Delly tells a story so funny that Jo actually spits out her wine from laughing so hard.

Through it all, I’m quiet, happily watching my guests enjoy themselves. And I can't help but keep gravitating back to Peeta, catching his eye from the other side of Lily, grinning and laughing and looking so incredibly adorable I want to burst. At one point, he throws me a covert wink, and I smile so hard my cheeks hurt.

“Everything was delicious, you two,” Haymitch says, putting down his fork as he finishes his third helping. “You really outdid yourselves. Thanks again for having us.”

“I’ll second that,” Blight says. “This has been one of the best Christmases I've had in a long time. First this lovely lady agreed to move in with me-” He raises Johanna’s hands to his lips and kisses it. Delly lets out a happy “ Awww !” across from them, earning an embarrassed eyeroll from Johanna. “And then I got to spend the afternoon with some of the nicest people I've ever met. Thank you so much for including me.”

“Agreed!” Sam says, holding up his water glass.

Delly follows suit, reaching for her wine glass. “I just want to say - the fact that you guys included us in your holiday meal means so much to me. To be welcomed like… like family , I just - oh .” She covers her mouth for a moment as her eyes well up with tears.

“Oh boy,” Johanna mutters.

“No, I’m okay,” Delly insists, wiping at the corner of her eyes. “I just want to make a toast.” She raises her glass a little higher.  “To Katniss and Peeta.”

The other guests raise their glasses, murmuring good wishes.

“To family,” Haymitch says lifting his glass toward us and taking a sip.

“To that pain in the ass, Love,” Johanna says, blowing a kiss in Blight’s direction.

“To love!” Delly repeats, raising her glass again.

I don’t know what gets into me… Maybe I’ve had too much wine. Maybe the good will surrounding the table melts my resolve. Or maybe I’ve used up what little strength I had left from holding in something this important for this long. In any case, I surprise myself as much as everyone else when I blurt out:

“I’m in love with Peeta!”

“Ha!” Johanna cackles. I glance over at Peeta, who’s staring at me with wide eyes, his mouth parted in shock. The rest of the table is stunned into silence.

Haymitch is the first to break the spell. “Well, it’s about damn time!”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask with a scowl.

“Come on!” Haymitch scoffs. “That boy’s been over the moon for you for months now! I was wondering when you’d finally figure it out.”

“Oh!” Delly says, giving him a backhand to the arm. “Leave Katniss alone. I for one think it’s - just - so -!” She jumps up from her chair and heads around the table, pulling me up into a hug before heading over to Peeta’s side and doing the same to him. “You two are just the sweetest things, and I’m just so happy for the both of you!”

“Thank you, Delly,” Peeta says as she finally lets him go. He moves to my side and wraps his arm around me. “We’re pretty happy, too.”

When he kisses my temple, Delly loses it completely, dissolving into a fit of tears.

“Oh, knock it off,” Haymitch grumbles. “They're dating, not dying. Let's not get carried away.”

“I’m sorry!” Delly insists, heading back to her seat and wiping her face with her napkin. “It’s just … when I think about all they’ve overcome - losing your wife,” she says, waving the napkin in Peeta’s direction, “and Katniss losing her sister… and to have all that grief... turn into love… It's so beautiful!”

“It wasn’t just grief-” I begin, feeling defensive, but I’m interrupted by Haymitch.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s all very nice. It’s a page right out of Romeo and Juliet.” While Haymitch’s tone is grating on me, I’m relieved he seems to have at least stopped her crying.

“You old Scrooge!” Delly scowls in a way that makes me proud.

“Listen, I think it’s great that they’ve decided to make a go of it. But let’s stop putting Sweetheart on the spot before she changes her mind and decides to make a run for it, okay? You all know how she gets when things get too serious.”

“Haymitch -” Peeta says and I stop him with a hand on his chest. I appreciate him defending my honor, but Haymitch had a little too much wine, and the best way to deal with a drunk Haymitch is to ignore him. The last thing I need is the two of them getting into an argument on Christmas of all days.

“Well.” Johanna must see the concern in my face, because she pushes her chair back and stands up. “As much fun as all of this is, I think the best way to celebrate is with one of Blondie’s famous desserts. Why don’t you boys take a break in the living room and we’ll get everything ready?”

Peeta looks down at me with a frown, making sure I’m okay. I nod and give him a small kiss on his lips to reassure him.

Johanna and I head into the kitchen while Delly starts to clear the dishes.

“So much for your big secret,” Jo teases as she starts wrapping some of the leftover food.

“Yeah, yeah,” I reply. “But while we’re on the subject of secrets - moving in with Blight? I didn’t even know you two were dating seriously!” It was only last month that she’d decided to call him her boyfriend.

“Sure you did,” she says with a frown. “We’ve been seeing each other casually for years.”

“As friends!”

“With benefits,” she says with a shrug. “We’ve been on and off for a while, seeing other people from time to time. But… something changed this Fall, and I realized how much he means to me. After that, it was simple.”

I watch as she begins to put the leftovers in the dishes I took out, completely unfazed. “That’s great, Jo. I’m really happy for you.” This is what I’ve always admired about her: when she wants something, she doesn’t let fear or public opinion sway her decision. She just goes after it.  

With Delly’s help we put the rest of the food away and set out the desserts. I head in to get the guys while Johanna and Delly finish setting out plates and silverware.

I can hear Haymitch’s bellow before I even make it to the living room. He’s in rare form tonight, thanks to Johanna’s holiday ‘spirits’, and I make a mental note to make sure he has some coffee before he leaves. He’s got Peeta by the ear standing by the fireplace.

“You’ve got to be a saint , boy. Putting up with both of the Everdeen girls? Phew.” He shakes his head. “Prim was a firecracker, but Katniss has got the temper of a forest fire. You cross her, she’ll burn you good. You sure you’re ready for that?”

“Definitely,” Peeta says. He catches my eye and gives me an apologetic smile. I pick Lily up from under the Christmas tree where she’s exploring her new toys and head over to the pair.

“What are you going on about now, old man?” I ask with a scowl.

“Sweetheart!” Haymitch’s eyes widen dramatically, his lips tinted a deep red from his wine. “I was just telling the boy how much I admire him for giving both Everdeen girls a chance. It’s good he married your sister first, though, to ease into it. At least she had the sweet and charming thing going for her. We all know you’ve got about as much charm as a dead slug.”

His words are like a punch to the gut. “Haymitch!” Peeta spits in shock. My scowl deepens and I can feel my face flaming as I fight the urge to cry.

Haymitch laughs, realizing too late that he is the only one enjoying the joke. The hurt must show on my face, because even in his drunken state, he tries to take it back. “Okay, not funny.”

I back away from them slowly. “Dessert is ready,” I tell Sam and Blight, who are talking on the couch, then turn to head back into the kitchen.

“Katniss-” Haymitch says, and I can tell he’s sobered up by the tone of his voice. “Hey, I didn’t mean-”

I ignore him and hurry into the kitchen. “Would you mind holding her for a minute?” I ask, handing Lily to an oblivious Delly.

I open the basement door and slip down the darkened stairwell, not even bothering to turn on a light. I sink down one one of the bottom steps, trying to compose myself before facing my guests again.

After a few minutes, the door opens, letting a sliver of light from upstairs expose me. “Katniss?” I hear the door softly close and Peeta’s heavy tread head come down the stairs. He squeezes in beside me, his arm wrapping around me.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” I lie, rubbing my nose one more time.

“Katniss,” he sighs, pulling me closer. “Haymitch feels terrible. He didn’t mean it in the first place, and started apologizing straight away. And then he got a good lecture from both me and Blight.”

“ Blight ?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Peeta laughs. “He really laid into him. Who knew?”

“I think Johanna did,” I say with a smile.

Peeta leans around, tugging on my chin until I look him in the eye. “He was wrong to say those things.”

“He had no right talking about Prim that way. Like she was some kind of starter wife that could be tossed aside and forgotten. But he’s not totally wrong about me,” I sniff.  

“He felt awful about that. You know how much he loves Prim,” Peeta says. I nod, because as angry as I am at Haymitch, even I can’t deny how much Prim meant to him. “And he was wrong about you, too. You. Are. Amazing . That’s why I fell in love with you.

“I’m not exactly charming.”

“Are you kidding me?” he asks. “You have way more charm than a dead slug!”

The ridiculousness of the sentiment makes me chuckle, but still I’m unconvinced. A part of me is upset because I worry that Haymitch is right. He knows me so well after all these years; deep down, we’re much the same.

“You ready to go back upstairs?” he asks. I just shrug. “You have every right to be upset, but don’t let Haymitch and his mouth ruin your Christmas. Besides, we still have to have dessert! Pie ,” he adds, wide blue eyes pleading with me.

I have to laugh again; this man and his pie obsession always make me smile.

“Fine,” I agree. “But only because I wouldn’t want good pie to go to waste.”

He leans in and gives me a kiss, then presses his forehead against mine. “I love Prim, and I miss her every day,” he whispers. “But you are not a consolation prize. I chose you. We chose each other . Don’t ever doubt that. Okay?”

His words bring tears to my eyes and a lump to my throat. I nod, too overcome to speak.

“I love you so much,” he says.

“I love you, too,” I whisper, and give him a kiss as fresh tears start to fall.

I guess that pie will have to wait a little longer.

*-*-*-*

The rest of the night is uneventful. Haymitch is contrite almost to the point of silence, except to lavish me with compliments over my only contribution to dessert: the coffee.

After our guests have all gone home, Peeta tidies up the kitchen while I bring Lily up to bed. She’s asleep almost instantly, but I rock with her a little longer, singing softly until Peeta joins us again. We put her in her crib, then collapse together in bed.

Normally, we’d spend a few minutes talking and recapping the day, but I’m worn out from the craziness of the week and today’s roller coaster of emotions. Instead, I tuck into his side, his arms wrapped around me, and give in to my exhaustion.

*-*-*-*

Spring is finally coming. After a long, cold winter, we can finally get outdoors again.

We’ve come back to the park, just like last spring. We’ve stretched out our blanket in the grass, and I watch as Peeta plays with Lily. “Let’s go on the swings!” he says, and she raises her arms in glee.

As they step away, I see a flash of something, a bit of movement from behind a nearby apple tree. Someone has been watching us.

“Hello?” I call. The person moves again but stays out of sight.

“They’re mine.” The voice is familiar, but the person won’t come into the light. “You can’t have them.”

“I’m sorry?” I ask, glancing back at the blanket. Did this person think I was someone else?

“You’ll never deserve them. You’ll never be good enough.”

I stand, walking toward the tree. “Who are you? I think you’ve made a mistake-”

Prim steps out from the shadows, her blond hair framing a pale face.

“Prim!” I shout, too excited to see my sister again to wonder at how she is standing here.

“You stole them from me. How could you do that to me, Katniss?”

“No, Prim… I would never hurt you. You were gone. I - We never meant for this to happen.”

“Peeta is my husband. I am Lily’s mother. You are no one.”

The truth guts me. “But... I love them.”

“You’ll never love them like I did,” she scoffs. “How could you ever think you could take my place?”

“Prim…I’m so sorry.” She turns and walks toward the swings. Peeta sees her and pulls her into a bear hug, kissing her face joyfully. He lifts Lily from the swing and places her in Prim’s arms. They've forgotten I was even here.

“No - wait! Stay with me!” I cry out for them, but they don’t hear me. “Prim!”  I move forward, try to run to them, but somehow they keep getting further and further away.

“Peeta! Lily! Prim, please! Don’t leave me again!”

Prim looks at me, but Peeta and Lily are enchanted and won’t take their eyes off of her. She turns her back to me and wraps an arm around Peeta, leading them away from me for good.

“Prim! Prim!”

“Katniss… Katniss! It's just a dream. It's okay.”

Peeta’s hushed voice pulls me awake. I sit up, tangled in the sheets, sweating and shaking as I try to kick them off of me. Lily stirs in her crib, so I try to compose myself and slow my breathing. I don’t want to wake her.

Peeta sits up beside me, rubbing my back. “Do you want me to turn the light on?” he whispers.

“No, no. I’m fine. I just need a minute.”

He continues to rub my back in slow, smooth circles. I remember being a child with a tummy ache and my mother doing this same motion: up and around, up and around. Somehow the sensation is soothing and heartbreaking at the same time.

I lie back down. He lays on his side facing me and reaches for my hand. We’ve adjusted to the dim light of Lily’s nightlight, and I can see he’s studying me, his head propped on his other hand.

“Was it about Prim?” he whispers. I nod. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks but I shake my head. I can’t bear to relive any of it. “It might help…” he tries again.

“No,”  I whisper. “It’s not important. It was just a dream. We should go back to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, troubled.

“Really. I’m feeling better already. We both need our rest.” I close my eyes, trying to be convincing. I hold his hand and wait until he lays back down beside me.

“Goodnight, Katniss.”

“Goodnight, Peeta.”

I keep my eyes closed and wait until I hear the soft sounds of him sleeping before opening my eyes again. I stare at the ceiling, the memories of the dream running over and over in my mind. Images of Prim, betrayed and angry. Of Peeta and Lily walking away from me, forgetting me forever.

It seems like hours, but eventually my eyes close, my body relaxes and I drift into a brief and thankfully dreamless sleep.

Chapter Text

“No!”

I bolt up, shuddering, waking Peeta in the process. He turns on the small bedside light and moves behind me, wrapping his arms around my back. “Another one?” he whispers.

I nod, pushing on my eyes in an attempt to erase the images from my head. This was a new one; I dreamed that Prim and I switched places… that Peeta and I met before he ever knew Prim. That it was me who died, not Prim. In this universe, my personal hell was walking the earth as a ghost, watching the two of them fall in love and forget all about me, just as I deserved.

Peeta eases me back onto the bed, his arms still wrapped around me. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I shake my head, still too pained to speak. Instead, he does the talking, telling me about a movie he wants to see and a funny story about Lily. My breathing relaxes as I let his deep voice and warm arms soothe me.

When I’ve calmed, he pauses and gives my arm a squeeze. I look up from my spot on his chest into his sleepy eyes, crinkled with a hopeful question. Wordlessly, I reach up to cup his face and pull him in for a kiss. 

He rolls to his side, pulling me more fully into his arms and holding me close. He leans his forehead against mine with a sigh. “This is the third night this week. I hate to watch you suffer. Isn’t there anything I can do?”

“Just do this,” I say, pulling him closer to me. 

We kiss again, slowly at first, with growing fervor. I let myself drown in his musk, the softness of his lips and his solid steadiness. I feel a warmth in my chest, spreading to my limbs; I’m starting to chase something more, but before I can stop them, images of Prim start to flood my brain. I pull away. We’re both trying to catch our breath, though I can’t tell if I’m driven by passion or fear.

Peeta brushes my nose gently with his lips. “You need your sleep,” he whispers. I’m more awake now than before, but I nod. 

He slips from the bed. “I’m going to check on Lily.” As my outbursts became more frequent, Peeta and I moved into my bedroom, allowing Lily to sleep peacefully through the night in his room. It was his idea, but he’s still adjusting to having her sleep across the hall. “Do you need anything?”

“No. Thanks.”

As he pulls the door shut, I turn onto my back with a sigh. We keep doing this, edging closer to a more physical relationship, but I keep stepping back before taking the next step. Peeta has been patient, insisting we wait until I’m really ready before going any further. 

I know we’re right not to rush things, but I’m so frustrated with the ongoing struggle. My mind isn’t ready for more, but my body certainly is.

*-*-*-*

“I’ve decided on the theme for my birthday,” Johanna announces as we eat our lunch. 

“A theme? Aww. How old are you turning again? Nine?”

“Ha ha,” she says, not at all amused by my little joke. “Nine going on thirty . Which is where I got my theme: XXX.”

I stare at her for a moment, then shake my head and take another bite. 

“Oh come on. That’s brilliant! I’m turning thirty, but in Roman numerals .”

“Okay Johanna,” I laugh. “I’m sure everyone will be thinking of Roman numerals when you mention triple-X.”

“Well, I can’t help what other people think.” She wiggles her eyebrows. “If your mind goes immediately to the gutter, maybe you need to ask yourself why. Is Lover Boy not scratching that itch?”

She’s trying to be funny, but instead it just makes me uncomfortable, thinking about last night all over again. 

She reads my non-reaction and changes the subject. “Eh, maybe you’re right. We hang with a bunch of cretins. They might not even know how Roman numerals work.” She raises her eyebrows hopefully. “Maybe I could wear a toga to hammer the theme home?”

”It’s January, Jo! You’ll freeze.”

“But think how much fun Blight will have unwrapping me at the end of the night.”

“Now whose mind is in the gutter?” I ask over her happy cackle.

*-*-*-*

“Lucky number three!”

Jo leads the way into the next tavern, with Blight on her heels, his hand protectively on her back. The rest of us follow close behind. We’ve already been to two other bars, but after a few drinks, Jo decided they weren’t the right ‘vibe’ for her big day. Our co-workers and Jo’s neighbors ditched us after stop #2.

This place definitely has a different vibe, evidenced by the pounding beat assaulting our ears as soon as we cross the threshold. A small area in the center of the room is jammed tight with dancers, and a nearby DJ rambles incoherently into a microphone. Peeta and I exchange looks, and I sense he’s thinking the same thing as me: this is so not our scene.

“Follow me,” I read on Johanna’s lips. I can tell she’s shouting, but can’t hear a thing over the music.

She leads us through the crowd, past the crowded bar to a set of stairs at the back of the room. It’s dark, but we follow a blue glow at the top of the staircase. When we get to the landing, we discover another bar, this time centered in the room with stools wrapped around it. The remaining space is filled with high top tables. The floor vibrates with the loud music from below, and there’s a steady hum of conversation, but it’s a much more bearable setting.

Johanna leads us to a pair of empty tables in the corner. She throws her jacket over the back of a chair and adjusts her tube top. She thought better of the toga theme and instead settled for a pair of leather pants and heeled boots. She grinned proudly when Madge compared her to Olivia Newton John in Grease .

I survey the bar, trying to read the beers on tap. As I scan the room, I notice a familiar hulking figure leaning on a high top on the other side of the bar. He’s got his back to us, but I’d recognize the dark hair and broad shoulders anywhere: Gale.

Peeta and Blight are engrossed in conversation, but Johanna must notice Gale at the same time as me, because she reaches out and squeezes my hand. I squeeze back and study her face. She looks like she’s concerned about me, but I’m more worried about her; it’s only been a few months since their breakup, and I don’t want him causing issues with her and Blight. But she gives me a nod and lets go of my hand, and I get her meaning. We’re not letting Gale ruin our night.

“I’m pretty thirsty after all that walking,” she says. “I think I need a drink.” I roll my eyes - between the three bars, we haven’t walked more than a couple of blocks.

“I’ll come with you,” Peeta says. “I’m getting thirsty myself.” Blight and Johanna head up to the bar ahead of him, while Madge and I agree to hang back and hold a couple tables. 

Peeta slides his hand down to mine, tangling our fingers together. “You doing okay?” he asks, his brow furrowed as he studies my face. 

I shake my head. “I’m fine,” I say, forcing a smile. “But I could use a beer if I’m going to make it through this night.” He leans in and gives me a gentle kiss before heading to the bar.

I can’t help but notice Gale watching us from across the room. His expression is cold, hard. He shakes his head in disgust and turns away with a swig of his beer.

*-*-*-*

This level of the bar doesn’t have a dance floor like downstairs, but that doesn’t bother Johanna. She throws a $20 into the jukebox and queues up an eclectic playlist - pop, country, and some 90’s hip-hop. Eventually she clears her own dance space next to our table and starts gyrating against an amused Blight. 

Peeta stands behind me, swaying slightly to the music, one arm wrapped tight around my waist. I keep my hand on his wrist and try to ignore the dark eyes that always seem to be trained in our direction.

We’re actually able to carry on an audible conversation here, which is a welcome change from our first few stops. Johanna keeps us entertained with stories from her wilder years and ghosts of birthdays past.

The jukebox pauses for a moment before the strings of a slow rock ballad begins. Taking advantage of the lull, Madge pulls her gloves from her pockets. “Well, I’ve got to get going,” she says, stretching the fabric over her fingers. 

“Madge!” Johanna whines. “It’s only 10:30!”

“I’m sorry,” Madge says, a contrite look on her face. She gives Johanna a hug, then does the same for Blight and Peeta. “I’m meeting my dad for brunch early tomorrow morning. I’m beat. It was a really long week.” 

I give her a hug and promise to meet up with her for dinner soon, just the two of us. I worry we made her feel like a fifth wheel, but she assures me she’s just tired.

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Peeta says, taking the last swig on his beer before grabbing his jacket.

“Oh, no, Peeta, you don’t have to,” Madge says. “You can stay.”

“I insist,” he says. “The parking lot is at least a quarter mile away. I’d feel better if you weren’t alone.”

“I’ll go with the two of you,” I offer, standing to get my coat, but Peeta shakes his head.

“It’s freezing out there,” he says, kissing my cheek. “You stay here and keep warm. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Peeta and Madge walk to the staircase and he turns to blow me one more kiss before heading down into the cold.

*-*-*-*

My phone vibrates and I glance down at the table to check my text. It’s Delly, letting me know that all is well at home, and that Peeta and I should take our time. 

“Come here often?”

I look up from my phone to find Gale looming over me. “Not exactly,” I say, looking around for Johanna. She headed to the bar a little while ago to find Blight, who seems to have disappeared into the crowd.  “I’m not big on the bar scene.”

Gale scoffs then tilts his head back as he empties his glass. He drops it to the table then hunches over on his forearms. “Never were much of a drinker, were you?” 

“Can’t say the same for you,” I say, staring down at the empty glass. “Yet another thing we didn’t have in common.” 

“Aw, c’mon Catnip. Don’t fool yourself. You and I, we’re just the same.”

He’s baiting me, but I refuse to bite. I go back to my phone instead.

“Where’s the pretty boy?” he asks, scanning the room with glazed eyes.

“If you mean Peeta, he’ll be back soon.”

“Two of you looked awful cozy earlier. You’d almost think it was real.”

I slam my hand on the table. “What are you trying to say, Gale?”

His eyes snap back to my face. “You can’t be serious, Katniss. Holding hands… kissing him… he’s Prim’s husband for god’s sake.”

“That’s… I would never…” I look down at my phone, at the picture of Prim and Lily I’d saved as my lock screen. “Prim’s dead,” I finally choke out, tears stinging my eyes. “And she’s never coming back.”

“Exactly! You’d think you’d have some loyalty to your own sister. Even if he doesn’t. Her body’s barely cold and he’s already warming your bed.”

“ How dare you? ” I hiss, jumping to a stand beside him. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“Well, it’s true, isn’t it? I mean, I get his motivation. He’s got a kid who needs a mother; who better to fill those shoes than his wife’s sister? But you…” He shakes his head. “It’s pretty fucking low to mess around with his head like that. Especially when there’s a kid involved.”

“I love Lily! I would never hurt her!” I don’t even know why I’m engaging with Gale, especially when he’s this drunk. But I can’t let him dismiss what I have with Peeta.

“Oh come on, Kat. Be honest with yourself. You don’t have it in you to commit to a relationship. Every time you start connecting with someone, you shut down. You freeze them out. That’s what you did with us-”

“But I love him,” I declare. 

His face contorts with a blend of anger and pain. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“You?” I scoff. “What the hell does any of this have to do with you?”

Instead of answering, he grabs my face and pulls me close, kissing me hard. I’m stunned at first, coming to my senses as he presses his tongue against my lips and I get the bitter taste of whiskey.

“ Gale !” I shove him away from me, wiping his slobber from my mouth with the back of my hand. “What the hell was that?!” I spit out, pushing him again.

“I had to do that. At least one more time,” he says, stumbling before righting himself against a post. “C’mon Catnip. Don’t you remember how good we were together? Don’t you miss us ?”

“ What?!  – God, Gale.” I close my eyes, trying to process his words. “ No . I can’t believe you’re doing this now.”

“Katniss?” Peeta squeezes through the crowd, a worried frown forming on his face as soon as he gets close. He puts his hands on my waist, holding me steady as he studies me. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine. It’s nothing.” I reply. “He-” I rub angry tears from my eyes, my scowl trained on Gale.  “He kissed me and... and I got upset.”

“He - what ?” Peeta stands up straighter, turning to face Gale and pulling me to his side. “What the hell, man!?”

“Catnip, you know I wasn’t-” Gale groans. “ God . Don’t be so dramatic. We dated! We used to kiss all the time! I was just trying to remind you that the spark was still there. Make you see-  To admit -”

 “What?” I ask. “Admit what?”

Gale spots Johanna and Blight moving toward us, each holding two beers. “Jo! Will you talk some sense into her? Tell her what you told me - about how ridiculous the two of them look together.”

Johanna blanches as she puts the beers on the table.

“Jo?” I ask, my voice small.

She turns and kicks Gale in the shin. “That’s not what I said!” 

“Ow!” He doubles over and grabs his leg. “What the fuck?!”

“What did you say?” I ask Johanna. Drunken rambles from Gale are one thing, but I’m stung by the thought of the two of them laughing about me behind my back.

“It was a long time ago. Before I realized how you really felt about him. At first… I thought it was just a crush. Some kind of distraction to help you both get over Prim.”

“A distraction?”

“No, not - a distraction… That’s not - that’s not what I meant.” She shakes her head. “Just... I didn’t know it was real - I thought-”

 She’s floundering, so I finish her thought for her. “That we were ‘ridiculous’.”

“No, Kat...” Johanna’s face hardens. “You can’t listen to Gale. He’s a jealous asshole. He’s only doing this because he’s in love with you.”

“Oh, fuck you, Jo,” Gale says. “You were right there with me-”

Johanna shouts over him. “Gale, you can go -”

“Enough!” I shout. I look around at my friends. Johanna is on her toes inches from Gale’s face, while Blight tries to pull her off the attack. Peeta’s fists are clenched at his sides, and he’s angled himself protectively in front of me.

I rub my hands across my face. It’s all too much. “I think it’s time we leave,” I say to Peeta. His shoulders relax and he looks back at me, nodding in agreement.

“Katniss!” Johanna finally disregards Gale and turns back to me. “C’mon. Don’t leave like this!”

“I’m tired,” I say. I reach for my coat and shove my arms in the sleeves. “I need... I want to go home.”

“I’m sorry.” Johanna sounds contrite, but I’m still too hurt to respond. “I didn’t know-”

“I’ll see you Monday,” I say, and head toward the staircase. I need to get out of here - I don’t even wait for Peeta as he says his goodbyes to Blight and Johanna. 

Gale is conspicuously quiet, but as I round the corner to the stairs, I can hear him call out to me. “Katniss, remember I -” I don’t look back, and his voice is drowned out by the thumping coming from the downstairs bar.

I push through the crowd and into the cold where I can finally breathe again, and wait for Peeta to come and take me home.

*-*-*-*

Adjusting the curtain, I watch the lights from Delly’s car retreat as she backs down the driveway. I can sense Peeta’s presence behind me, but I interject before he has the chance to speak. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

Peeta sighs. “Katniss -”

“No. Not now, Peeta.” I hang my jacket on the coat rack and head up the stairs. “Not… Not tonight.”

He follows me up the stairs and into my bedroom. Or - into our bedroom. 

My head is starting to ache.

He closes the door and pulls me down to sit beside him on the bed. “I get it, but Katniss…” He studies me with troubled eyes. “I just need to know… Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No,” I put my hand on his thigh. “It wasn’t you. Gale-” 

“-is an asshole. Kissing you like that, putting his hands on you. God, I wanted to strangle him.” 

I chuckle. “My hero.”

This earns me a wry smile, but only for a moment before he furrows his brow again. “But… you barely spoke the whole ride home. Are you sure you’re not upset with me?”

“No,” I sigh. “It’s not you. I just needed time. To think.”

He nods. “About what Johanna said?” 

My shoulders tense. Johanna’s comments hurt, but Peeta didn’t even hear the worst of it. Gale’s accusations about my loyalty to Prim keep ringing in my ears. 

I rub at my temple. “I really don’t want to do this right now, Peeta,” I whisper.

“Okay. We can talk tomorrow. But…” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “I know that this is hard. But that doesn’t mean you should just bury it. Not facing the hard isn’t going to make it go away. If you never talk about it, it’s just going to fester.”

“‘Fester’? Did you learn that kind of talk from your fancy therapist?” He flinches, hurt. I’m tired, and my tone was harsher than I meant for it to be. “I’m sorry-”

“You know, I think maybe you could benefit from a session or two, Katniss. You’re hurting. You never sleep-”

“I sleep!” 

“Not soundly. Neither of us are getting the rest we need.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sorry I’m interrupting your beauty sleep,” I say, jumping up. I grab my pajamas off the bed and move toward the door.

“Katniss, stop.” He reaches for my hand and stops me before I can open the door. I toss the pajamas back down. “You know that’s not what I meant. We both struggle with nightmares.”

Both? This gives me pause. “Still?” I can’t remember the last time I saw Peeta sleep anything but soundly. Since we’ve started sharing a bed regularly, it’s always me waking him .

“Yeah,” he says. He pulls me closer and wraps his arms around my waist. “Dr. A says it’s totally normal. We’ve both been through a lot.”

Doctor A. So pretentious. I’ve never met this guy, but I already hate him.

“ ‘We?’ You mean… you talk about me in your sessions?” This shouldn’t sting, but it does. It’s like Johanna and Gale all over again, talking about me behind my back.

“No, not… I mean, yes … but...” He’s starting to panic. He knows me by now, can probably tell by the set of my jaw that I’m getting ready to run. He swallows and grips my hands tightly in both of his. “I talk about my past. My parents and brothers. About Prim, and Lily, and - yes, I’ve told him about you. How much I love you. And how much easier it is to face all of the pain... now that we’re together.”

The tension in my shoulders releases a little, but I still can’t meet his eyes. I keep mine glued to our hands clenched in his lap.

“Sometimes I think… maybe… it might be nice…”

He’s so eager, so earnest, I finally let my eyes drift back up to meet his troubled gaze. I lock on, a silent request for him to continue.

“Would you consider... coming with me? To a session?” I shake my head but he barrels on before I can officially say no. “You don’t have to talk or anything. You can just listen. Just… see what it’s like. It can be very… raw, and sometimes I’d like to talk to you about it after, but it’s so hard to... relive it. Again… And I-” He pauses to take a breath. Now he’s the one looking down at our hands. I give them a squeeze. He starts again, his voice low and husky. “I would very much like it if you could be there. With me.”

Oh. This isn’t about me, and my issues. It’s about Peeta. He’s so good about taking care of me, I forget sometimes that he relies on me to take care of him, too.

“Okay,” I say softly. His face lights up, his blue eyes both relieved and grateful as they flutter up to meet mine.

“Okay?” he repeats, hesitant. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” I lean down and place a gentle kiss on his lips. He gives me a small smile. “Now,” I grab my pajamas off the end of the bed and step back from his grasp. “Do you mind if I get changed? I’m kind of exhausted.”

“Of course,” he chuckles. “And Katniss-” He stops me just as I open the door. “Thank you.”

I dismiss his thanks with a roll of my eyes. “There’s nothing to thank me for. This is what we do. We’re family, right?” 

“Right,” he nods. “Family.”

I get a step into the hallway, but stop. Something is nagging at me. I push the door open and peer back in. He’s laying back on the bed, his legs still dangling off the side where he was sitting.

“Peeta,” I call. 

He lifts his head off the mattress to look at me. “Yeah?”

“Your nightmares. Why don’t I ever know about them anymore?” I remember how he used to bolt out of bed, needing to check on Lily as soon he woke up. “Why don’t you wake me?”

“Oh, um,” he sits up and shrugs. “Lately… they’re mostly about losing you. I kind of… wake with a start. But once I can see that you’re here, and safe, I’m okay.”

“Oh.” I’m not sure what to say to that. Instead I gesture in the direction of the hall. “I’m gonna-” 

“Yeah,” he stands up with a groan. “I should check on Lily. Make sure she didn’t kick all of the covers up.”

“Like her Daddy,” I joke, earning a smile. 

He follows me into the hallway and heads into Lily’s room. I shut the bathroom door behind me and close my eyes, rubbing at my temple. This has been a long night. I shuffle over to the medicine cabinet, desperate for some medicine to dull the pain, even if there’s nothing in there that can truly set my mind at ease.

Chapter Text

I spend most of the weekend in avoidance mode.

Johanna texts me repeatedly. The messages start out apologetic, but become increasingly agitated as the day goes on and I still haven’t answered. 

JM: Come on Brainless… u know Gale’s an ass

JM: Don’t let him win

JM: At least let me fucking explain!!!

JM: Hello??

JM: Can’t believe u forgave Prim but not me. U said we were family.

Her last message cuts deep, prompting me to finally respond.

KE: It’s not about that. I just need time to think.

JM: Okay. So think.

JM: Work? Lunch?

KE: Yes. We’ll talk then.

Johanna decided to take a long weekend for her birthday, which  gives me a few extra days to try to figure out how I feel and work on what to say.

So of course, I put it out of my mind completely.

I can tell Peeta wants to talk about everything that happened as well. Every now and then I catch his eyes trained on me, only to quickly flit away when he notices me looking back. But for the moment, my promise to attend a therapy session with him seems to placate him.

Now I just have to think of a way to get out of it.

*-*-*-*

Sunday morning, I wake before Peeta. It’s a rare occurrence; years of baker’s hours are hard to shake. 

I prop my head on one hand and watch him sleep, taking the opportunity to study him without judgement. The early golden sunlight highlights the strands of rust in his beard. One hand rests on his chest, rising and falling in time with the tiny breaths escaping his lips, which are open and slightly cracked.

My other hand slips under the blankets, moving slowly so as not to wake him. I reach down to the hem of his t-shirt and creep my fingers underneath. The hairs on his stomach tickle at my wrist. He is warm, so warm, and I can’t help but spread my fingers out to touch him, soak him in --

It’s a step too far, and he wakes with a start, grabbing for my wrist through the blankets, his ab muscles flexing beneath me. He opens his eyes, searching for the source of the inevitable attack, but finding only me beside him.

Releasing my wrist, he relaxes back into the bed and licks his lips to relieve the dryness. “Morning,” he says, his voice a few octaves lower than usual. He closes his eyes again and spreads an arm out in invitation. “By all means, don’t let me interrupt.”

I take the opportunity to curl into his side, my hand resuming its exploration. The flesh on his abdomen is soft and inviting, and I run my fingers over it reverently, running back and forth from his smooth, hairless sides back to his belly, covered in soft, wiry hairs.

I try to keep my hand - and mind - above the waistband of his flannel pants, the blankets cloaking everything else for now. Still, just my gentle touch on his bare skin feels incredibly intimate. From the soft moans he keeps making, I think he’s enjoying it as well.

I move my hand higher, grazing the firmness of his breastbone, then trail again to the side. My finger circles the bumpy skin around his nipple and I feel it pebble beneath my touch. I map every inch of his chest, memorizing which parts are most sensitive, which areas cause him to flinch and laugh, and which touches cause him to groan. 

My hand goes higher still, poking through the top of his t-shirt, tracing the smooth skin on his lower neck, then higher, to catch on the scratchy hairs at the base of his beard. I use my fingertips, then nails, to lightly scrape the sensitive area beneath his ear, drawing a sleepy smile. With a gentle prodding from my fingers, he turns into me and gives me a long, lazy kiss. It takes my breath away.

“My turn,” he says, leaning his forehead against mine and panting softly.

He turns more fully on his side and raises a brow, waiting for my answer. Reluctantly, I remove my arm from his shirt and lean back slightly, giving him a nod of permission. He flexes his fingers, and I can almost swear he’s shaking. His hand slowly reaches forward, and just when I think he’ll never make purchase with my skin, I can feel him inch the edge of my shirt up and slip underneath.

Oh god. His hand, like all of him, is warm. The callouses on his fingertips graze my skin and it tickles, I think - almost - but then again... no. It feels good. Impossibly good.

His fingers trace a similar path to mine. He takes his time, stroking every inch of my belly before moving carefully up my side. My eyes are open and locked on his face, only inches away from me. His eyes are closed again, his blond eyelashes tangled together. Periodically he hums, the same kind of throaty moans he was making when I was touching him. He seems to be enjoying this exploration just as much. 

Maybe more.

Finally he works up the courage to move higher, and I feel him graze my breast, a trembling thumb circling my nipple slowly. I sigh, and the sound draws another groan from Peeta. He gets bolder, gently cupping the full weight of my breast in his hand and squeezing gently. 

Oh. He lets out a ragged sound under his breath, and it goes right to my groin.

My instinct is to apologize; my breasts aren’t very large, and I’ve never considered them anything worth bragging about. Prim won the genetic lottery in that sense, taking after our mother’s curvier figure, while I resembled the thinner, flatter women on my father’s side.

Her middle school years were hard. Prim developed early, and whenever the two of us went out, boys and girls were drawn to her, eyes glued right at her ample chest. She spent years in baggy shirts, trying to avoid the phenomenon, but it definitely helped to make her more popular once she started dating.

And - oh god . Suddenly that’s all I can think about. Prim. Prim and Peeta . Peeta - he would have been very familiar with her breasts. And … Oh . Mine must be a huge disappointment in comparison. What is he thinking right now? Is he here with me or remembering her instead?

I squeeze my eyes shut against the invading images. 

Of him lifting her shirt. Leaning down to kiss her...

No... No. 

No--

“No!” I sit up, pulling his hand from my shirt in the process. “I’m sorry, I just- I can’t--”

He sits up beside me, wringing his hands in his lap, looking terrified, as if he’s afraid to touch me. “Oh my god, no, Katniss. I’m sorry. I never should have…” 

He never finishes his sentence, and I can’t help but wonder which part he regrets.

“It’s fine,” I say, taking a deep breath to steady myself.

“I took it too far,” he continues, almost to himself. His brow furrows and he shakes his head. “I didn’t mean to rush you.”

“No, Peeta. Really. It’s okay. This is new... and I.. I just panicked.” I put my hand on his, stopping them mid-twist. “It’s okay,” I repeat and give him a small smile. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He’s not convinced. “Are you sure?” he asks. 

“I am. That … was really nice,” I add. Because it was . At least, up until the end.

He gives me a sheepish smile. “It was,” he whispers.

I can hear Lily calling for us from across the hall. “I’ll get Lily started with breakfast,” I offer, trying not to draw attention to the way Peeta is clutching the blanket to his lap. “You... take your time.” I stop to give him a kiss before I leave the room, trying to ignore the pit in my stomach. 

I’m tense as I head toward Lily’s room, hoping the kiss was reassuring. I don’t want things to be awkward between us.

And I really couldn’t bear the look of guilt he had on his face, when obviously the whole mess was my fault. 

*-*-*-*

I try to act as normal as possible when Peeta comes down to breakfast, but he’s visibly uncomfortable. I paste a smile on my face and ask if he’d like some tea, trying to push past what I hope was just a momentary slip of composure on my part.

But the moment doesn’t pass. And by lunchtime, he’s more withdrawn than ever. I must have triggered something with our escapades this morning, because he’s been walking on eggshells all day.

“So…” Peeta puts his sandwich down and fiddles with his napkin. “I, uh. I have an appointment. With Dr. A? On Wednesday. At 3. But…” He swallows and rushes through the rest of his sentence. “I know you have work, so it’s totally fine if it’s just too much now.” 

He can’t even meet my eyes. Is this what he thinks of me? That I would go back on my word, ignore his request? Abandon him when he needed me?

But what hurts most is not the implication. It’s that … he’s right. I have been working on ways to get out of going, since the moment I agreed.

He knew I’d try to back out. He sees me for who I really am. A coward.

This realization makes me more resigned to my fate. I have to go. He asks so little of me. I can’t let him down now.

“Peeta.” I reach for his hand, finally drawing his gaze up from the table. “I told you I would come. Of course I’ll be there. I can make arrangements with work.”

He still looks unsure, but nods. “Thank you.”

I think I’d rather have a root canal than deal with this appointment. But it obviously means so much to Peeta. After all he’s done for me, I owe him this. And I always repay my debts.

*-*-*-*

“Want some birthday cake?” Jo leans over the car console to offer me a fork. 

“For lunch?” I chuckle. “I think I’ll stick to my sandwich.”

“Blight made it,” she says, scooping up a pile of frosting. “It’s just the two of us, so…” She shrugs. “There’s a lot left over.”

A steady rain patters the windshield, occasionally mixing with a fat flake of snow. Our normal spot outside was soaked, and we decided we’d have more privacy out here than in the office.

After a few moments chewing in silence, Johanna sighs. “So are you ever going to forgive me or what?”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” I reply softly. 

“I know you’re pissed at me. You think Gale and I had some kind of... inside joke or something about you and Peeta.”

I shrug. “I get it. Peeta and I - what brought us together - isn’t natural. We’re … freaks. Of course you guys would find us entertaining.”

Johanna groans. “No, you don’t get it, Brainless. It’s not even about you and Peeta. You are fine. Gale is the freak.”

I raise an eyebrow, but she continues before I can speak.

“The entire time he and I dated, he was hung up on you .” I shake my head, disbelieving. “He was!” she insists. “ Is . I didn’t see it either at first, but once I did, I ran for the hills. That guy never got over you.”

I stare at the drops on the windshield as she explains how their dates usually consisted of him getting drunk and eventually turning the conversation to me and Peeta and our unconventional relationship. “I realized later, he was just baiting me. Trying to find someone else to commiserate with him. He’d say ‘Can you believe those two?’ and before you know it, I was agreeing with him.”

I feel her turn to face me better from the driver’s seat, but my eyes stay trained forward. “But Kat - I never said you were ridiculous. Yeah, in those early days…. I honestly thought you were just going through the motions for Lily’s sake. Trying to make nice with the Baby Daddy. Maybe get back at Prim a little for keeping him a secret. I didn’t know… Well… I didn’t know.”

I’ve finished my sandwich and converted the foil wrapping into a tiny twist. I keep my focus on it, working the cool metal between my fingers, and wait for her to continue.

“But I told you what I was thinking! I didn’t hold back; I asked you, point blank, what was going on. Hell, you know I’m not shy! I’d never say something behind your back that I wouldn’t say to your face.”

I laugh. Johanna is two things above all else: loyal and blunt. She’s never been afraid to speak up before.

“Anyway - fuck Gale. I hate that he ruined our night. And I hate that he made you doubt me,” she says. “So... are we good?” She looks genuinely concerned.

“Of course we are. I’m sorry I got so upset.”

“You had every right to be upset,” she says, shoving her bowl and fork back into her lunch bag. “I still can’t believe Gale just kissed you like that. What an asshole. How did Peeta take it?”

I shrug. “He’s okay. He was worried about me mostly.”

“He looked like he was about to give Gale a beatdown. I bet it made for some hot loving when you got home.”

“What?” I choke out. 

“Oh, come on. Jealous sex is some of the hottest sex out there! Right after angry sex. All I have to do is hint that some guy was looking at me at the club, and Blight goes positively feral. Sure, Peeta’s sweet and innocent by day, but I bet he can be a wild animal between the sheets.”

I make a noise under my breath and twist the foil tighter. It’s not exactly agreement. I can’t meet her eyes.

“Wait a minute.” Joanna tosses her bag into the back seat. “Brainless. You and lover boy are doing the deed, right?”

I pause, trying to decide how much to confess. “Sort of.” She raises an eyebrow. “Not exactly,” I respond after a beat. Her second brow finds its mate. “No,” I add quietly.

“No?” she repeats. “The two of you still haven’t --”

“Not yet ! I mean - we’re just not ready…” I look at her, silently pleading to drop the subject.

“Wow,” she sighs, turning back toward the windshield. “You’ve been living together for… months now, right? I thought for sure, after that big declaration at Christmas…” She looks at me again. “But I thought you shared a bedroom?”

“We do. We’ve…” I think of our kisses and touches, our exploration this weekend. “We do… stuff,” I say, feeling more and more defensive as this goes on. “We just haven’t…” I swallow. This conversation should not be making me so uncomfortable.

“Wow, “ Johanna repeats. “I just - Blondie’s hot! I can’t believe you haven’t gotten on that yet! And he’s okay with it?”

“Of course,” I say with a frown. “He wants us both to be sure.”

“Huh. You’ve definitely got something special. No normal man would be able to wait this long.”

A coworker walking by the car catches her eye. Johanna checks the time on the dash, then pulls down the visor to reapply her lipstick. “I guess we should probably get back to work.”

“Yeah,” I agree, trying to plaster what I hope looks like a calm expression on my face. The last thing I want to do is give away how I really feel.

*-*-*-*

Despite everything inside me fighting against it, Wednesday comes, and with it, Peeta’s appointment.

I barely sleep the night before, which is pretty standard for me at this point. I leave work early so we can ride over together, and my stomach is turning cartwheels for the entire car ride.

The office is in a small brick medical building. Peeta parks and I wordlessly follow him into the foyer and up the spiral staircase to the second floor. We walk down the hall until we reach a nondescript wooden door labeled simply “Dr. J. Aurelius - Psychotherapy.”

We enter a small, dim waiting area decorated with a few chairs, a coffee table covered in magazines, and a fish tank. Peeta takes my hand and leads me to a second wooden door beside the fish tank. He knocks only once before the door is pulled open.

“Ah, Peeta!” A balding man with a white beard gives Peeta a smile. He looks down at our joined hands before eyeing me over his rounded glasses. “And welcome Ms...?”

“Dr. A, this is my — Katniss Everdeen.” Peeta wraps an arm around my waist.

“It’s so good to finally meet you Ms. Everdeen,” Dr. A. says warmly. “Typically, when I have a visitor to a session, I like to meet privately with my patient first for a bit, and then bring the guest in later. Why don’t you have a seat out here, Katniss, and we’ll call you in when we’re ready.”

Peeta looks at me with raised eyebrows, checking in. I squeeze his hand to reassure him that I’m fine. “Okay,” I say. Peeta grips my hand in both of his and gives me a gentle kiss on the cheek before heading into the inner room and closing the door behind him.

I’m restless as I wait for them to call me in. It feels like hours, but according to the clock on my phone, it’s only about fifteen minutes before I hear the door open and Dr. A. call my name.

The room is eclectic. There are plants and greenery on every available surface and a few pieces of mismatched furniture. A small humidifier hums as it puffs clouds of moisture from the corner. Peeta is sitting on a small gray loveseat across from a worn leather chair. He shifts closer to one side and pats the cushion beside him. I sit down beside him as Dr. A. closes the door and takes a seat in the leather chair.

“So, Katniss,” Dr. A. begins. “Thank you for coming and supporting Peeta today. I know it means a lot to him. Before we go any further - have you ever been to a therapy session before?”

“No,” I say softly, and clear my throat. “No, I haven’t.”

“Have you ever considered it? Do you know much about the process?” he asks, tenting his fingers and studying me. Why is he asking me all of this? I’m not the patient here. Peeta is.

“Not really. I mean, I know a little about it,” I say, glancing at Peeta. “From TV and stuff,” I say with a nervous laugh.

“That’s not a bad start.” Dr. A. chuckles and adjusts his position, crossing one leg over the other. “But it can be a little misleading. A lot of movies and television programs show the doctor doing the bulk of the work, but around here it’s just the opposite. Peeta is in charge, not me. I find we make the most progress when the patient sets the roadmap. I’m just here as a guide of sorts, to help illuminate the path when he needs a little help. Does that make sense?”

I nod. I’m still not sure how I can be of assistance in all of this, but I think I’ll be fine as long as I don’t have to do much talking.

“Perfect,” Dr. A. says, then thankfully directs his attention back to Peeta. “So, Peeta. Why don’t we fill Katniss in on where we left off before she came in. You were talking about a conflict you encountered this weekend?”

My mouth drops open slightly. I look at Peeta as my heart begins to race. This weekend?

“Yeah,” Peeta says, rubbing his hands along the thighs of his jeans. “At the bar, there was this incident. Katniss had a … confrontation with an old friend. And the whole thing, it brought up a lot of feelings.”

Peeta pauses and glances at me. I close my mouth but say nothing. Dr. A. nods. “Go on.”

“In the moment, I was so, so angry. I wanted to hurt him for what he did to her, upsetting her like that and -- it scared me to feel so out of control. And then after, I started to feel very... anxious.”

“Good. Let’s talk some more about how you reacted to those feelings.”

*-*-*-*

I stare out the passenger window on the ride home. I can sense Peeta looking at me but refuse to turn around.

The house greets us with a similar silence. Delly is still at the library with Lily and won’t be back until dinnertime.

“Katniss, please. Say something.”

“I just--” I throw my scarf in the basket by the door and stomp into the kitchen. I open the refrigerator and immediately slam it shut, then let everything I’ve been bottling up explode out of me. “I can’t believe you told him Peeta! Why would you talk to him about that stuff?”

“Katniss, that’s the whole point of the process. To talk about that stuff. Everything… All of the things that have happened to me, the things I’m worried about --”

“I don’t get it. Worried?” I look at him, perplexed. “You’re worried about Gale?” He doesn’t answer right away. “About what? Do you think… that I’m still interested in Gale ?”

“No! Not --  It’s not that. I’m worried about what you’re not telling me. You just - you shut down. I know something else happened that night. You were so upset, and I don’t think it was just about the kiss.” I shake my head. “But see, you won’t talk to me! You won’t let me in.”

“What happened doesn’t matter.” I start to walk away. 

He tugs on my arm and pulls me back. “But it does matter, Katniss! If it’s upsetting you enough that you freak out when I touch you--”

“When you touch me?” I wrench my arm from his grip. “Oh my... that morning? In bed? Did you -- did you tell him about that too?” He stares at me, but doesn’t deny it. “That was private, Peeta!”

He looks up at the ceiling and sighs. “I didn’t -- I didn’t get into specifics, but yes, I mentioned it.” My scoff draws his attention again. “I was worried that I took things too far. That I lost control.”

Johanna’s teasing is ringing in my ears. No normal man could wait this long. “Is that what you talk about every week? You tell this… stranger that we haven’t had sex yet? That you’re some kind of martyr for waiting this long?” 

“No! God . I’m not a martyr! I would never want to do something you weren’t ready for, Katniss. I would never pressure you!”

“But you’ve talked about it.” He shrugs slightly. “You’re ready for more, and I’m not,” I whisper. It’s not a question.

“Katniss, it doesn’t matter if I’m ready, because I know you’re not. So that means we’re not ready. We’re in this together!”

I know he means to make me feel better, but his words just make me feel more alone. He’s ready to move forward, but as usual, my indecision is holding him back.

You’re messing with his head. Gale’s words are haunting me again.

It feels like every negative thought I’ve ever had, every guilty inclination, rains down on me at once. I crumble to the floor. 

You don’t have it in you to commit to a relationship.

You’d think you’d have some loyalty to your own sister.

“Oh god.” I close my eyes and press my fingertips against the lids. Tears pool beneath them and begin to spill over. “He was right. Gale’s right,” I mumble.

“What?” Peeta asks. 

“I’m a terrible person. This is so wrong.”

“Katniss--”

“How can I keep... stringing you along like this? To keep -- You moved out here. You basically put your whole life on hold. Because of me.” I replace my fingertips with the heels of my hands.

I feel Peeta kneel beside me. “No,” he insists. “Katniss, no.”

“Gale’s right. Everyone goes away. I drive them away.” 

“Is that what he told you?” Peeta’s hands slide up to my wrists. He tugs on them but I don’t budge. “Don‘t listen to him, Katniss. Please,” his voice cracks. “Don’t let him take you from me.”

“Everyone leaves me. My father. My mother. Prim.” I finally pull my hands from my eyes and look at him. There are fresh tears on his cheeks. “You,” I whisper. “You’ll leave me, too.”

“Never,” he replies earnestly. “I will never leave you.”

“You can’t promise me that.” I scoff. “Prim. My dad. They didn’t plan to leave. You don’t always get a choice.” 

“But… I choose you,” he says. “Doesn’t that count for something? Whatever time we have left -- I choose to spend it with you.”

“But don’t you see? You didn’t choose me. You chose Prim! You belong to Prim. You ended up with me. By mistake.”

“No! Katniss, you are not a mistake. We are not a mistake!”

“An accident then. A terrible twist of fate--”

“ No .” He shakes his head.

“--because you were hurting, and lonely, and I just happened to be there--”

“No! God, Katniss. I love you! Don’t you understand?” he pleads. “We are meant to be together.” 

“How can you say that?” I beg through my tears. “So Prim was meant to die? Do you honestly believe that?”

“No, of course not... but, Prim did die. Nothing we do will ever change that.”

“You want her back.”

“Of course I want her back! I want you to have your sister back. I want Lily to have her mother here, to see her grow up. But at the same time - god, I want you , Katniss. I need you,” he says, his voice breaking. 

“I need you, too.”

“Isn’t that enough?” he asks.

“I -- I don’t know.”

“We love each other. We have a right to be happy. After everything we’ve been through, after all we’ve lost, don’t you think we deserve that?”

“But… How will I ever really know you fell in love with me ? That it wasn’t just our grief? Or because you wanted a mother for Lily?” He shakes his head again.  “I want to believe that… even without all of that… that you would still love me. That this would have happened anyway.” Even as I speak the words, I know it’s ridiculous. Impossible. “But -- I can’t --”

“This would have happened anyway,” he insists. His large hands frame my face. “I don’t know how, or when but -- You and I… This is real , Katniss.” He presses his forehead to mine. “It’s not just some... side effect of our grief. And it’s not just because we’re lonely. This is real .”

“But Prim--”

He leans back to look into my eyes. “Prim loved you so much, Katniss. She would only want the best for you. She would want you to be happy. If she were here right now --”

“But that’s just it, Peeta. If Prim was here right now, we wouldn't be together! You would still be in Colorado, married to her!”

“I know, but...” He pulls me into his arms, desperate. “What can I do? I can’t change how we got here. We both have to live with the scars of what we’ve been through but... can’t we do it together?”

I cling to him and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ignore the barrage of negative thoughts. “Together,” is all I can manage to reply.

“We’ll find a way to make this work. I promise,” he says. He rubs my back and I bury my face into the crook of his neck. “I promise,” he repeats.

I take a shuddering breath and nod against him. In spite of my fears, all the unknowns in the future, I do believe in Peeta. Somehow, his promise is enough.

When our tears slow, I lean back with a sigh and wipe my nose with the back of my hand. Peeta sits beside me, our backs against the cabinet doors and his arm still wrapped protectively around my shoulders. I’m exhausted down to my bones. 

I glance around the quiet kitchen with a sense of deja vu. “You know, this is where I first ‘met’ you,” I say with a humorless chuckle.

“What do you mean?” 

“That night you called to tell me... about Prim… I was here, in the kitchen. I sat down on the floor like this and just… couldn’t get up.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says, hugging me into his side. “I hate that that’s your first impression of me.”

“No,” I say putting a hand on his thigh. “It wasn’t like that. You were so kind. I could tell you were upset, but you seemed more worried about me than yourself.”

“That was one of the hardest calls I’ve ever had to make. Rue volunteered to do it, because she thought it might be easier coming from a familiar friend. But I needed to tell you myself. It was the right thing to do.”

I think about all we’ve been through in this past year. The terrible grief, the darkness threatening to pull me in for good. But in between - there were genuine moments of joy and laughter. Moments of real, human connection. Glimmers of hope that things could be good again, someday. And all of those moments lead back to Peeta.

I put a hand on his cheek and his puffy eyes meet mine. “I’m glad it was you,” I murmur. “For what it’s worth.”

Peeta gives me a sad smile. “Me too,” he says.

I lean my head on his shoulder. “Maybe…” I begin, but the words don’t come right away.

“Hmm?”

I try again. “I do want to make this work. So… maybe... I could go with you again next week. Maybe it would be good to keep talking about everything.”

His breath catches. “I would really like that.” His free hand reaches out and he laces his fingers through mine.

I know there will be dark times, days when I won’t want to get out of bed. But I also know that through them, Peeta will be here for me, steady and strong and waiting. And there will be times that he’ll need me, too. I can’t bear to think of Peeta suffering alone. 

We’re stronger as a team.

For years, I shut love out, afraid that giving my heart to someone else would make me vulnerable. But now I realize that loving Peeta doesn’t make me weaker; it makes me stronger. And now that I have him in my life, I never want to let him go. 

The sun is going down. Soon, Delly will be back with Lily and she’ll need our attention. There’s dinner to make and bills to pay, and the other mundane tasks of running a household. But I know that these are the luxuries of life, things my sister would have taken joy in, if she only had more time. 

I owe it to her memory to live my life to the fullest. For her, and Peeta’s brothers, and our parents. Peeta is right, they loved us and they would all want us to be happy. 

It’s not going to be easy. We’ve got more to discuss, work to be done. But if I have to choose between going through this life alone or going through it with Peeta by my side, he’s right: I choose him.

Chapter Text

I wake just before dawn, my bladder demanding immediate attention. 

On the way back from the bathroom, I check on Lily. She’s sprawled across her bed sideways, blankets kicked off and her head lying dangerously close to the edge of the bed. Cool spring air drifts in from the open window, so I pull her back onto her pillow and drape a blanket over her back.

She’s still a wild sleeper. I comb a hand through her curls, mussed and matted from the pillow. Today is the first grade pageant, so I’ll have to get her up a little early to try to tame them back into submission. 

When I fell in love with Peeta, one of my biggest fears was how it might impact Lily. I didn’t want our unconventional relationship to confuse her or scar her in any way. It’s hard enough to lose your mother at such a young age, I didn’t want to make things worse.

But despite my fears, she’s thriving. Bubbly and brilliant and funny. She has a huge heart and has everyone wrapped around her little finger, especially her honorary Grandpa Haymitch and Auntie Jo Jo. 

To keep her connection to Prim alive, Peeta and I put together a special “Mommy Book” for Lily a few years ago. We filled it with pictures and stories about Prim so she would always have tangible memories of her mother to look through. I chose some favorite childhood photos and stories, and Peeta detailed Prim’s pregnancy and early days of motherhood. He even created some new drawings of Prim and Lily from happy moments that weren’t photographed.

Putting the book together was such a cathartic process that Dr. A. recommended we make another about our other family members. It was a chance for Peeta and I to continue our grieving process, while also giving Lily a way to get to know the uncles and grandparents she’d never meet.

It was hard for me to admit all those years ago, but Dr. A. has been a pivotal part of our journey. We started with joint sessions, both Peeta and I, but eventually I transitioned into my own individual appointments, too. 

At first, I could barely speak. Dr A. would sit in meditative silence, patiently waiting until the hour was up, then offer the suggestion that we try again next week. During one visit, he seemed to fall asleep during his meditation. I responded with a shocked outburst that led to a chat — about safe topics mainly, but a conversation nonetheless. And slowly, week by week, we got to the deeper stuff. 

Once I finally started opening up, years of pain and heartache just came pouring out. It was - is - the hardest thing I’ve done, but looking back, I know we’d never be where we are today if I hadn’t taken those first steps. He helped me sift through everything from my guilt and anger about Prim to my mother’s mental health struggles and the impact my parents’ tumultuous marriage had on me. 

When Peeta proposed a few years ago, it brought up a whole new set of feelings that I wasn’t anticipating. There were some misunderstandings, and some dark days on both of our accounts. But we fought about it, kept talking about it, and eventually we moved forward. We were married in the meadow where we shared our first picnic, with our closest friends there to support us.

I climb into bed beside Peeta and lay my head on my favorite spot on his chest. He’s half asleep but still lifts an arm to fold me in closer. I curl around him and his free hand goes immediately to my abdomen. 

It took years for me to get to a place where I could even consider a baby. I was so worried about outside opinions, how things would look and all the ways it might hurt Lily. But Peeta wanted to grow our family so badly. Ultimately, we both agreed, despite our losses, our siblings were important to us. We wanted Lily to have that experience as well. 

We already knew how Lily felt; she’s been asking for a brother or sister ever since Jo and Blight had their daughter, Aspen, a couple of years ago. So she was over-the-moon with excitement when we finally told her that she’s going to be a big sister. 

Excited isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe my reaction. I was happy of course, but I also felt a whole new brand of terror at the prospect of another life depending wholly on me. Carrying a child without my own mother or sister has taken its own toll. I increased my visits with Dr. A., and I’m working hard on maintaining my mental health through this pregnancy. I’m especially trying to give myself a little grace when it all overwhelms me. 

Peeta lets out a sigh beside me and curls closer to me, his hand holding tight to my belly. I tuck a leg between his and let his warmth envelope me. Our daughter gives a firm kick that is just strong enough for him to feel. His eyes remain closed but crinkle happily. 

“I’ll never get tired of that,” he says, his voice rough with sleep. “Only a few more weeks.”

“Mmm.”

He opens his eyes, only inches from mine, and frowns slightly. “You okay?”

I smile and kiss his nose lightly. “I’m fine. Just nervous. Do you think we’re really ready?”

He contemplates my question for a moment. “I do. I mean -- as ready as anyone could be, right?”

I sigh and detangle myself from him, turning onto my back again. Peeta turns to face me and leans his head on his hand. “Let’s break it down,” he says. “What part scares you the most?”

“Today?” I ask. “I guess… the idea of bringing a new person into our blended family. She’s going to have questions someday… Why Lily calls me Kitty instead of Mommy… Who Prim was…”

“So we’ll tell her,” Peeta says. “We have the book —“

“But what if my depression worsens after the baby comes?” I whisper. “What if the darkness tries to drown me like it did with my mother? What I fall, deeper than before?”

“Then I’ll be there to catch you,” he insists. “We’ll work through it together. We’ve done it before. You’re stronger than you realize.”

This isn’t the first time we’ve talked about this, and it won’t be the last. Peeta reminds me time and again that I’m not alone, that I can lean on him when I need help, that he’ll be a cushion to break my fall. And I do the same for him; when things get hard, we’ll always have the comfort of each other’s arms.

Peeta stares at me, waiting for me to move on to my next set of concerns: fear of the birth process, my minimal maternity leave, or how we’ll afford daycare now that he’s working full time. 

But all of that can wait. Worries or not, the sun will soon rise. Today, we have a pageant to prepare for. Tomorrow, a nursery to finish. For every fear or doubt I can conjur, there’s a real, tangible thing for which I’m grateful.

“Okay,” I say, and roll back into his embrace. He holds me tight and we enjoy our last few moments of quiet before the day begins. I close my eyes and drift off into that strange world between wakefulness and sleep. 

*-*-*-*

I can see our family, a few years into the future. We’re in the meadow, having another picnic. Two girls dance circles around us - one light, one dark, but both with a head full of curls. 

A blond boy toddles after them on chubby legs, squealing for their attention. Finally the three of them giggle and fall to the ground, the girls first, and then the boy. They decide to make a game of looking up at the clouds and finding their favorite animals.

Peeta draws my attention. He’s sitting beside me on the blanket, and for the first time, I notice white hairs speckled through his beard. But his smile is the same, his eyes the same lovely shade of blue. He takes my hand in his and kisses my knuckles.

For a moment, I see a figure hiding behind a tree. It’s Prim, and she’s smiling at us. “Thank you,” she mouths. And as quickly as she appeared, she’s gone.

Seeing her doesn’t frighten me as it once did. Watching her leave doesn’t fill me with the same emptiness. I know now that she will always be a part of our lives, and she will live on in Lily. When we tell the story of our family, she will always be a part of our beginning, even as we continue to write more chapters.

Peeta wraps an arm around me and the two of us lay back on the blanket next to the children. We stare up at the clouds together and join in the game. 

I remember doing this with Peeta so many years ago. Back then, I couldn’t see the clouds as anything but obstacles to the sun. But now, the shapes dance before my eyes. For the first time, the clouds come alive. I see a goat. A kitten. A pirate ship.

I show the girls what looks like a family -- two big blobs beside three small ones. They’re picking dandelions, and blowing fluff from the heads. A trail of small white clouds taper off behind them.

“They look happy,” Peeta says, turning to face me.

I glance over at our children, laughing together. They are physical proof of all that is good and loving in the world.

“You’re right,” I say, leaning over to give Peeta a kiss. “They are happy.”