Peeniss/Everlark Baby One-Shot

I sit by the lake my father and I used to visit when I was a little girl. It seemed so far away, all of it. I sat there staring at the lake water for a while. It was so long ago, yet the memory was still fresh in my head. I think about what life would've been like if my mother and father never met. If they hadn't decided to get married and have kids. I would never be here, and Peeta would be with someone else. Someone that can give him what he wants.

I shiver slightly, the cool air gliding against my skin. The sun had set, and I had watched it set alone. It was the first time I had watched the sun set by myself since Peeta returned to district 12. Ever since he and I started dating—or whatever you want to call it— we agreed that every night, we'd go outside and watch the sunset together. It was his favorite thing in the world.

And today, today I watched it alone. Without him. My chest tightens, and I suddenly feel sick. I had told him I'd be home hours ago, but I couldn't will myself to walk home and see the look of disappointment, of something missing, on his face again. He'd been begging me to have a baby, but I just couldn't do it. I can see the pain in his eyes every time he looks at me.

"I just don't see why we have to bring kids into this world," I had said to him one night when we were having the same discussion we always had. "We have each other, isn't that enough?" And he just shook his head, clearly trying to control his anger.

"You're enough for me, you know that. I love you. But us having kids… They would be both apart of me and you. They'll be us, Katniss," he had replied in his soft voice that was impossible to refuse. I got up and darted upstairs out of frustration, and he followed me into our bedroom and held me until I fell asleep.

Now, now that I look out into the lake—the lake my father used to take me to so many times when I was a kid—I can't help but wonder what it would be like to bring my children here. To teach them how to swim. To spend Sundays teaching them how to hunt or watching Peeta showing them how to bake. My throat tightens and my vision gets blurry.

After about another hour, when it was dark outside, I decide I need to go home. Peeta will be worried about me. I grab my game bag and wrap my father's old hunting jacket around me. The walk back to our house isn't that long—I have to pass by the meadow to get there, and I still can't shake the memory of what lies beneath—I make it home in less than thirty minutes. When I open the door, I see Peeta sitting on the couch, staring at the fire he had built in the fire place.

"I watched the sunset alone," he said, not bothering to look at me, and I felt a pang in my chest.

"Peeta…" I struggled for words, but they wouldn't come. My voice cracked at his name, and I went to sit by him. He still wouldn't look at me. He was playing with something in his hand, something that I couldn't quite make out. I took a closer look, and my heart dropped to my stomach. It was the pearl he gave me in the arena—I had given it back to him a few months after we were back in District 12. "Peeta, I've been thinking, by the lake…"

"Remember when I couldn't remember how much I loved you? When I would state something and have you tell me if it was real or not real?" He sounded anxious, like he's been waiting all day to talk to me. Suddenly I regretted staying out that late in the woods. I nodded my head, then remembered he still wasn't looking at me.

"Yes."

"I think I should play that game again, because there are some things that I'm confused about." And with that, he looked up at me. His gaze was painful, you can tell he'd been crying, or trying really hard not to, for quite some time. I nodded my head, not wanting to say anything that would upset him. "You still love me. Real or not real?"

"Real," I whispered, answering almost as soon as he asked.

"You want to spend the rest of your life with me. Real or not real?"

"Real. Peeta, why are you—"

"Just wait," he cut me off. "You want me to be happy. Real or not real?"

"Real," I answered with growing patience.

"You want to have a baby with me. Real or not real?"

"Real," I replied, and everything about his expression transformed into one of shock, relief, and complete and utter happiness.