Peeta's POV
Anticipating the birth of my first child is one of the most nervewrecking and yet most exciting things to ever happen to me. I had begged Katniss for children for years, and she suddenly gave in one day not too long ago. Maybe she finally felt the call of being a parent, or maybe she just wanted to make me happy; either way, nine months has passed since then and I'm so glad the baby is finally here.
When she felt sick in the mornings not too long after we started trying she went to the doctor and I went with her. He confirmed she was pregnant and I had tears of joy in my eyes, unbelieving that one of my dreams was coming true. Not much in life had gone my way when I was a teenager starting with being reaped, but despite the hijacking and being in two arenas, a war, everything, I had a good life. I had the girl I always loved who finally loved me back and now a child on the way, one of many I hope. I kissed her happily and she did kiss back, but she looked…well, terrified is probably the best word. I don't really know how to describe it. But I knew it was her fear of children and the reapings from the past that was making her act like this so I assured her it was alright. The doctor even helped me, saying that maybe she got pregnant on one of the first tries so that she couldn't let her fear get in the way. She eventually just nodded her head and we went home.
She still hunted often much to my distress and unbelieving through her pregnancy until she was too big to handle it, but I know it's a way with dealing with her fears. She always felt more comfortable with a bow in her hands and feeling normal hunting, and while I don't quite understand the feeling I accept it. She's still the girl I fell in love with all those years ago that hunts and is kind and fierce and protective, and I know she'll be the same towards our child.
I've had dreams of our child, most of them being a beautiful daughter. In my dreams much of the time she has blonde hair and grey eyes or black hair and blue eyes, a perfect mix of the two of us. Either one in my opinion would be beautiful, as she would be our daughter and perfect in every way. I can't wait to see the child though, boy or girl.
She doesn't want me in the room with her while she's giving birth and though I wanted to be there, the nurses assure me that this is normal. Most women that don't want the fathers there are either worried that they will yell at them or don't want them to see them in that state because they would feel ashamed afterwards, but we all know it's just coming from the pain of giving birth. I really wouldn't care if she yelled at me and I always think she's beautiful, but knowing that birthing mothers aren't quite themselves as the hormones go crazy I stay dutifully pacing outside of the delivery room. I hear cries of pain and the nurses insisting she pushes a lot, but other than that I have no idea of what's going on. It goes on for hours but finally I hear a cry, much different from the cries of pain before. This is a child's cry; our child.
My pacing continues faster as I anticipate the nurse or doctor coming out to get me or at least inform me about anything at all. They do after what is probably just a few minutes though it feels like a century, a big smile on the nurse's face.
"Congratulations, Mr. Mellark." she says from the doorway. "You have a healthy, beautiful son."
A son. It's not the daughter of my dreams but I quickly let that go and happiness and warmth washes over me. I have a son, a little boy. We do. Suddenly a huge smile graces my face and I exude excitement.
"Can I go see them?" I ask, not knowing what I'll do if she says no. She just nods and opens the door and I find Katniss with sweaty hair and flushed cheeks sitting up on the hospital bed, exhausted. But in her arms she's holding a tiny bundle that she's looking down at and I can see a dark head there.
With a smile on my face I tenderly sit down next to my family on the bed and put my arm around Katniss's shoulders, staring down at my son. He definitely looks like Katniss, that's for sure. Practically every feature has her in it. But that's alright, maybe he has my blue eyes and I can really only see his face at the moment. He probably has my hands or feet too.
She turns to me with a strange look on her face, a mix of exhaustion, content, and something else I can't quite name. It's probably fear by the look of it, just her normal fear. But it's alright; I can assure her all the time that he will be safe for always, that he won't even have the chance of being reaped or the Capitol taking him away. I kiss her lips softly before kissing our son's head, his soft wisp of dark hair brushing against my face.
He opens his beautiful eyes once my lips leave him, and I try not to be too disappointed when I find stormy grey eyes looking back at me.
Katniss's POV
Looking at my two and a half year old son playing in the meadow I feel a lot of things. Happiness a lot of the time though I never wanted a kid, the protective instinct that I always had for Prim and I'd assume any mother should have, the hopes and dreams that he will grow up happy and healthy and do what he loves. He's a good, strong, handsome little boy with storm cloud eyes and straight black hair, everyone says it. But really to be honest, every time I see him I can't help feeling guilt. Because all I see in him is his father.
I certainly didn't mean for it to happen; in fact, it almost seemed like fate meant for my son to be born. I was going to visit my mother in District 4 for only the third time since the war ended, as we decided that visits to District 12 would only be painful and awkward for both of us. So I kissed Peeta goodbye and took my small suitcase as I had only planned on staying a few days and boarded the train. Somehow I fell asleep on the train and completely missed my stop in District 4. I asked the attendant on the train to turn around but apparently even burnt out rebellion symbols aren't important enough to stop a train schedule, and the man apologized (though he didn't sound that sorry) and told me that the train would end in District 2 in a few hours and I could find my way to District 4 from there. Huffing in frustration, I called my mother from the phone on the train and told her that I had missed my stop and I'd be there as soon as I could.
Agitated, I stepped off the train in District 2 and went straight to the ticket office to buy one for the very next train to District 4. But it was already dark and apparently the next train anywhere close to District 4 was at seven thirty the next morning. Frustrated again, I bought my ticket and thought now I have to find a place to stay for the night. And when I turned around, I found someone staring at me in shock, frozen in place.
Once it registered in my mind that it was him I stood very much the same way he did where I was, people passing between us but our gaze never lifting. Eventually I realized that I didn't want to be here anymore and I didn't want to see him, talk to him, feel anything at all, so I stormed towards the exit without a look back. But no sooner than I got outside I felt a hand grab my arm and spin me around.
"What are you doing here?" I hiss at him, roughly grabbing my arm back from his grasp. He surprised me by laughing, but there was no humor behind it.
"What am I doing here? I live here. I should be asking you the same question." He reminds me, and I know I knew that but I wasn't thinking. I just didn't remember at the time, there were clearly other things on my mind to be mad about.
And though I really don't know why I do, I end up telling him the truth. "I was going to visit my mother but missed the stop and now I have to wait for the next train there." I grumble, walking away from him. But he follows me much to my annoyance and I can't stand it anymore. I didn't want to be anywhere near him. "Go away Gale."
"This is my way home. Unless you know a way I can grow wings and fly over you, I'm going to be on this path." He tells me, ignoring my seething towards him. I roll my eyes at his suggestion and just keep walking, trying a find a place I can ditch him and forget him and stay until morning.
"What, are you really going to avoid me forever?" I hear behind me and it makes me stop in my place, turning around with pain and anger in my eyes, glaring at him.
"You're making it pretty damn hard to do." I mutter, crossing my arms. He steps towards me tentatively as if I'm going to run, but I stand my ground glaring at him. He stops a few feet from me and sighs, a deep heavy sigh that I unwillingly remember means he's debating internally about something.
"Maybe you shouldn't." he murmurs, not looking up from where he's staring at the ground. And he may be right, but he certainly wouldn't like me avoiding it; I haven't even gotten to the yelling or fighting and perhaps punching yet.
"Well as fun as this was, I have to find a place to stay tonight so leave me alone." I reply sarcastically, deciding almost cowardly that I'm not going to talk about the heavy crushing weight between us. Not now.
"You can stay with me." He offers, and I look up in surprise.
"No."
He sighs again and begins walking towards me as I take a step back. His eyes don't have as much hurt or evil in them as I had anticipated, but they aren't glaring or happy either. It's confusing. "You need a place to stay and I have one."
"I can't." I shake my head.
"Sure you can."
"No, I can't." I reply, almost annoyed with his insistence.
"Why not?" he asks me and I stare at him half incredulously and half irate.
"You know why." I almost seethe but I can't quite get the pain out of my voice. He gives me a sad smile much to my surprise but there's pain in his eyes too that contradict it.
"Come on. You can yell at me all you want when we get there." He replies with resolve, but almost bitterly. It's an inviting offer, the thought of a place to stay and his permission to yell at him about all I want to say (though I didn't really need his permission). Knowing even after all this time when I give in he starts walking along the path and I followed him a generous distance away, all the way to his small but nice house.
He opened the door and went right to the kitchen, coming back to the living room to my shock with two glasses and a bottle of liquor. I question him with my eyes, but I'm more surprised that he's suggesting we drink it let alone that he has it in his house. He was always so against drinking and Haymitch's non sober behaviors; said it was a waste of money and stupid. But I guess times have changed. Maybe he just thinks we both needed a little something to get through this night.
And so drinking lead to yelling and crying (on both our parts much to my surprise). I could just tell how completely guilty he felt about Prim, how he was beating himself up over it even after all these years though he still didn't know if it was his bomb or not. It was something I didn't let myself think about, how he felt about this. I had forgotten that he thought of Prim like a sister too.
And then when we had finished that bottle we went into the kitchen for another one (both very drunk at this point) and sometime after a glass of that came the feelings. I don't really remember much of it but I do remember him telling me that he still loved me even though I never loved him back. And I know I said something after that though for the life of me I can't recall what. But whatever it was it was something he wanted to hear or something that wasn't what I should have said though I probably felt it, because that lead to the bedroom. And well…
I woke up in the middle of the night, still a little drunk. But I was aware enough to realize that I was naked and on an unfamiliar bed with familiar arms around me. In a panic I slowly got out of bed and gathered my things, almost racing though the lightening sky towards the train station. It wasn't until I was actually on the train that I had let myself realize what had happened and accepted it. That we had had sex without protection. That I had sex with Gale.
It was an honest mistake though I still feel like the worst wife in history; we were beyond drunk, and he was my best friend and alright, there was obviously always something more there. Things happen though it wasn't the plan at all. But I knew what could have possibly come from this and I didn't want to tell Peeta of it; I didn't even want to think about it anymore but I had to cover my tracks. So as soon as I got home I told him I wanted to try for a kid and I would have changed my mind after a month or two if I wasn't pregnant; it would have been enough to make sure that I wasn't pregnant and I could just forget it.
But then I got morning sickness, and started feeling the signs of pregnancy. And I hoped and prayed that it was Peeta's child, but I always knew guiltily that it wasn't. Somewhere in me even before my son was born I knew it was Gale's. It was most of the reason I refused to let Peeta in the delivery room because of that fear to be honest. Because something in my heart broke when I realized it was going to break his heart. The child looked exactly like a mix of me and Gale and I knew he would figure it out almost as soon and as certainly as I did; he had Gale's deep stormy eyes after all.
But he incredulously didn't; all I could see in him when he saw my son for the first time was pure joy and happiness. Could he really not see? Could he really not know? It seemed that way and let him believe that he was our child. I hadn't talked to Gale since and he hadn't to me; I idly wonder if Gale even remembered because he had way more to drink than I did.
Even if Peeta couldn't see the only thing I saw in my son, I know other people could see it. Mostly a few residents from the Hob way back when, but even if they realized it they probably wouldn't tell Peeta. In fact, I honestly think though they would never say it to my face that they would rather it be Gale's because they always thought we would be together, thought it was right. I don't say anything back to confirm them though. Greasy Sae, however…
I had taken my son to the new Hob with me about a year ago and sat down with him on my lap to eat some of Greasy Sae's stew like I always used to do. I was focusing more on my bowl than anything but when I finished and looked up I found her staring at him in my lap before meeting my eyes after a moment knowingly. I was so fearful that day that it took all I had not to run out of there right away, and though I didn't say anything I know she caught the blush that had unconsciously made its way to my cheeks. It was all the confirmation she needed. But she didn't say anything to me or anyone else it seemed, so I decided to just ignore it.
But now watching my son with Peeta by my side I can sense him looking at him, really looking at him. He's studying him thoroughly and I try to keep my heartbeat from not being too fast or loud, but it's drumming in my ears and I'm scared that Peeta may figure it out. But he doesn't say anything and helps me up from the ground when it's time to leave for dinner, and I hold my son to me and kiss his hair, praying that it's going to be alright.
Dinner goes by normally and I put my son to bed, coming to our bedroom afterwards. I open the door to find Peeta staring out the window, not turning to look at me when he speaks.
"Katniss." He starts, though I can't read his tone. It's odd.
"Yeah?" I answer from the doorway, sticking to staying right here because somehow I already know what's coming.
"He is my son. Real or not real?" I hear, and my heart is pounding in my chest. Crap crap crap.
"Peeta…" I answer, trying to make him think that he's ridiculous for asking. But he's not buying it and turns around, tears brimming in his eyes as he grips the windowsill and makes his knuckles go white.
"You're not answering the question. Real or not real?" he repeats and I feel the tears coming, the guilt and pain crashing over me. Instead of answering because he already knows the answer, I fall to the floor and start sobbing. It's a credit to how much he loves me that Peeta comes over and comforts me though I should be apologizing. He should be yelling at me and hitting me or at least kicking me out. But he lets my sobs come to a stop before I look up at him with guilt and finally tell him the truth.
"Not real." I whisper, and I start blubbering the whole story of how we were drunk and talking about things and one thing led to another. How I felt so guilty and angry at myself that I couldn't bring myself to tell him before. How I do love him and I regret anything ever happened.
"You knew, all this time." He shakes his head unbelievingly, processing quietly. "I should have realized."
"You didn't know him as well." I offer as explanation, but it falls like the horribly stupid excuse it is.
"Do other people know?" he asks me, some of the anger I expected coming out but most of it is hurt.
Instead of answering with words because I don't think talking is going to do me any good anymore, I nod. Greasy Sae knows for sure and I'm sure a few other people suspect. Mostly people that knew Gale wasn't really my cousin in the first place.
A heavy sigh meets my nod, and I get up and leave the room, knowing I don't deserve his comfort for the nightmares or his love. Instead I go into my son's room and stand at his crib, watching him sleep and wishing I could do the same. But I'm glad he'll never have the horrors I experienced and never have nightmares about killing people or others being killed. Not like me, or Peeta, or probably Gale if I'm being honest. But I'd rather him not have that than me if it was a choice.
Sometime hours later maybe Peeta comes in the room and stands next to me at the crib, an unreadable expression on his face. But I can tell he's mostly sad now, but accepting.
"I'm not leaving Katniss, no matter how angry or hurt I am. We'll work something out." He tells me quietly, hearing my almost silent thank you before leaving me alone in the room again.
Gale's POV
Walking around District 12 for the first time in a long time, I don't really talk to anyone, just walking around. Because despite knowing Katniss is still living here, I didn't come to talk to her though I probably should; it's been almost four years since I saw her last, that disastrous night where we stupidly got wasted and talked about everything. I don't even really know what happened, but she was gone when I woke up and I figured if she wanted to see or talk to me again she would do it herself; I wasn't over her in the least (stupidly probably), but I was done trying. I couldn't hurt myself anymore, it wasn't healthy.
District 12 is different than what I remember, but has the same feel to it sort of. Town looks mostly the same except that the buildings are different. I'm walking through the square when I catch sight of the Mellark Bakery, a new one since the original was bombed all those years ago along with the rest of the District. But there's no way in hell I'm going in so I decide to just walk past it. But apparently that's not going to happen, as I hear the door creak open behind me and Peeta calling my name.
"Hey Mellark." I greet him before turning around for a conversation I don't really want to have because he'll just remind me that Katniss is his and not mine though he'll do it in a way that doesn't sound like gloating. But to my utter surprise I'm met with a punch right to my jaw and stumble back a few steps, mostly from shock.
"What the hell?" I ask him, rubbing my jaw. My god, even after all these years that kid still has the wrestling in him. I find him looking at me with pure anger in his eyes and I'm baffled by it. This is definitely not what I was expecting.
"You know what." he answers me though I'm still confused. He goes for another punch but I duck, putting my hands up in defense.
"I really don't." I answer honestly, and from somewhere I hear Katniss's voice yelling Peeta's name though I don't turn away from the crazy man in front of me, making sure he doesn't hit me for no reason again.
"Are you going to pretend you don't know what you did?" he almost laughs out, still angry. But my honest confusion seems to make him angrier, because he glares at me and points in the direction of Katniss's voice. "Look there."
I do what he says and find myself looking at Katniss who is distressed and yelling at Peeta to stop, but that's not what surprises me. It's the three year old boy in her arms with black hair that shocks me. What? But he…and I…
Another punch hits my head and since I'm too surprised to do anything back another one does and I fall to the ground. The last thing I remember hearing is cries and screams, but I don't really register them.
Because all I can think is he implying that that's my kid?
The next thing I register is something cold on my head and that it hurts really bad, my jaw too. I open my eyes and squint them closed again, the contrast of light and dark blinding me momentarily. But once I blink a few times I can see clearly again, and realize that I'm lying on something hard, an ice pack on my head. I try to sit up but hands stop me, keeping me down.
"Don't sit up." Her voice orders me quietly, and I obey before my eyes meet hers, and they're filled with guilt.
"Mind telling me what just happened?" I ask her, thinking maybe it was just a relapse in Peeta's hijacking. Because it couldn't really be what I think he was implying, right?
"Sorry, I guess that was sort of my fault. I should have told him sooner." She apologizes without meeting my eyes, but I stare at her incredulously.
"So he was saying that…"
"Yeah." She interrupts me, a blush furiously reddening her cheeks. I'm still processing the information but one thing keeps coming to my mind.
"You didn't tell me." I ask her, and she finally meets my eyes with guilt and tears in them. I can't believe she didn't tell me about my own kid. My god, I thought it was a dream we had sex that night she was in District 2. I mean we were certainly drunk enough and I'm pretty sure I told her I loved her again and that she might have said it back. But that's why I thought it was a dream; if she really actually said she loved me drunk or not, it would have to be a dream. Because what was the point of telling me that she ever loved me if it didn't matter in the end? She was with Peeta.
"No. I…didn't tell anyone." She replies, clearly ashamed at herself. "I got back here and told him that I finally wanted a kid so we began trying, but I always knew somewhere in me it was yours."
"When did you tell him then?" I ask her, trying to get past the fact that she didn't tell me of all people. Doesn't she think I should have known I had a kid walking around somewhere no matter how much she might still hate me for Prim?
"A few months ago. He figured it out." She informs me quietly, and I'm almost surprised. He didn't figure it out sooner? I would have thought he would at least in the first year if not at the birth. I've only seen my own siblings at birth before for an example, but they started to look like themselves a few weeks later.
"Well thanks for warning me at least." I reply sarcastically, moving the ice that's numbing my head from it.
"Sorry. I would have if I was anywhere near the bakery or if I knew you were coming. I didn't think he'd do something like that no matter how mad or hurt he is."
I nod in response and we just stay silent for a few minutes, but eventually I can't help asking. "What's his name?"
"Jayden."
"That's my dad's name." I answer, surprised. She smiles a little before turning her gaze from mine and shrugs. I watch her incredulously.
"Yeah." She quietly answers before sighing.
I'm honestly surprised by this, but touched too. She can't possibly hate me if she named our son that. The son I had no idea about until now. She's still not looking at me though, so I sit up precariously and gently place a hand under her chin. When she doesn't flinch away from the contact I lift her face to meet mine, and find her eyes embarrassed and guilty but not angry anymore, how I anticipated. Even though she definitely yelled at me that night I didn't think she'd ever be done.
So I push my luck since what's one more punch going to do when I've already had several today if she doesn't want this, and press my lips to hers for a soft kiss that she kisses back to my happiness. But I don't push my luck any further than that today and let go as we stare at each other for a minute. Honestly, I don't think either of us knows where to go from here.
"Where are we?" I ask eventually when I can't stand the silence between us anymore though it's not uncomfortable.
"Greasy Sae's place. She's watching Jayden right now." She answers me and I quirk an eyebrow at her. Does Sae know he's mine? She nods at my unspoken question and I smile a little not knowing why I'm so surprised. She always did have a good observation streak in her.
"Can I see him?" I ask and she nods and gets out of her chair as I get off the table and follow her, the pain from my head easy to ignore as I anticipate meeting my son for the first time.
He's in Greasy Sae's living room playing with her granddaughter, but when he catches sight of Katniss abandons whatever they were doing and comes over. He hugs her leg and she crouches down to his level, putting her hands lightly on his shoulders.
"Jayden, this is Gale. Say hi." She tells the little boy, and he looks up at me with his innocent grey eyes and I almost catch my breath when I realize how much he looks like me. How could anyone have thought he was Peeta's?
"Hi." He says to me, and I crouch down to his own level and offer to play a game with him, still trying to process that he's my kid. That I even have one, and it's with the love of my life of all people. Maybe things do work out for the best after all; I just have to tell myself that even though it really hasn't before.
Katniss's POV
"Mommy, why do I have to get dressed up?" Jayden frowns at me, pulling on his collar. At five years old he's not too thrilled with being in anything but play clothes, but this is an important occasion. We've explained it to him plenty.
"Because Daddy and I are getting married and you don't want to look bad, do you?" I tell him, my hands on my hips.
"Why?"
"Because we love each other." I tell him, the only thing he could understand. I honestly wanted to get married this time around, and Gale certainly had no problem with it; in fact, he was estatic. So much in our life has changed but it's actually for the best in my mind.
After Gale found out that Jayden was his, we knew that we couldn't just go on like we were. I did love Peeta, I really did, but I knew I couldn't hurt him anymore. I had never expected him to punch Gale though I guess I never told him Gale didn't know in the first place; it just wasn't him. He apologized after profusely but I told him with crying eyes that I didn't want to hurt him anymore, that he shouldn't have to deal with the product of my cheating on him, unplanned drunken night or no. He didn't want me to leave but knew I would anyway, and with a heavy heart I left.
But guiltily, it wasn't as heavy as it should have been. I don't really think I'll ever be over Prim, but somewhere between getting pregnant with Gale's child and watching Jayden grow up, I knew that it was going to be alright. I couldn't hate Gale because I loved Jayden so much, and Prim wouldn't have wanted me to hate anyone in the first place. I realized I didn't blame Gale anymore, and that really opened up all the possiblilites and what ifs in our relationship. Because while we called ourselves friends for so long…friends was never really the word to describe us. Our bond was too much, too ridiculously tight and strong that it never really was. So I had no problem loving him (which is apparently what I told him when I was wasted, hence leading to sex).
And so Jayden and I moved to District 2 with him at least for a while though I would miss the forest and 12, I didn't have a job like Gale did. Jayden really didn't know what was going on as he was too young to understand, and though he asked about Peeta a few times the day he started calling Gale Daddy Gale had the biggest smile on his face that I've ever seen in my life. And though I wasn't sure about District 2, the rest of the Hawthornes were there and they were like family to me, making it feel more like home. I even hunted in the woods there and taught Jayden how to hunt there. Though they weren't the same woods it was still the same feeling, and Gale and I continued the tradition in our families of teaching hunting though it wasn't necessary anymore. It started to feel like home.
So when I got pregnant for the second time (also unplanned) when Jayden was four, I didn't actually mind this time. There was nothing to hide, and I already had gotten over much of my fear that I had with Jayden about reapings. So when our daughter was born it was easily the best day of my life so far, my boys waiting for us and coming in afterwards.
It was never my intent to have kids or get married, but suddenly I didn't see the horror in it anymore. So when I came home from the hospital I thought about it, and as I was putting our daughter to bed one night Gale came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist, kissing my shoulder before resting his chin on it. I blurted out that I wanted a toasting and he was shocked but ecstatic about it and quickly agreed, bringing me into his arms and lifting me up bridal style to bring me to our room to celebrate while I laughed quietly, trying not to wake up the kids.
And so here we are today, getting married. Just like everyone thought. Sure we've done the whole family thing backwards but it doesn't really matter to us, and what does matter is that it happened.
So maybe it happened by chance, but maybe it was just meant to be. To miss my stop and come to District 2, to meet Gale in that train station by chance, to follow him home and get wasted while we sorted out things and eventually went to bed. Getting pregnant may have been by chance, but I don't view it as a mistake anymore. I view it as a push in the direction I was always meant to be going before the Games got in my way.
And this right now, is right. I can feel it.
"Ready?" Gale's voice calls from the doorway, a smile beaming on his face that I easily meet now with our tiny daughter in his arms. I nod and push Jayden towards them.
"I am." I reply, staring into his eyes with such love that I can't contain it. Because I am ready, that's for certain. I have always been somewhere in me.