The characters of The Hunger Games Trilogy do not belong to me.
Thank you to Chelzie, my beta, for her awesome editing skills!
Joy Comes in the Morning
"One more, Mrs. Mellark!"
She grunted once and the room was suddenly filled with the tiny, shrill cry of their daughter.
"You did great, honey," Peeta told her as he pressed a kiss to her sweaty forehead.
"Let's name her Joy," she told him with a grin, her breath coming out in thin gasps.
"Naming her after yourself, huh?" His wife nodded tiredly, her hazel eyes shining on him. "Fair enough. You pushed her out."
It all happened quickly; her face went grey and there was beeping—that horrible beeping of the machine as her heart rate suddenly dropped.
"She's hemorrhaging!" one of the nurses called out. "We need blood—STAT!"
There was scrambling in the once serene room as he stood by and watched Joy go limp. The delivery room was suddenly filled with nurses—some holding bags of blood while others yelled out the declining numbers on the machines.
"WHAT'S HAPPENING?" He clung to his wife's hand as they rushed around the hospital bed that Joy lay in. A dark-haired nurse stood in front of him and his eyes met her steel ones, the only exposed part of her face due to the mask she wore. "What is happening to my wife?"
"Mr. Mellark, your wife—" she began to tell him when the doctor suddenly burst into the room and her eyes went to Joy's obstetrician. "Doctor, we've already given Mrs. Mellark two pints!"
Dr. Abernathy was quickly at Joy's side, his hand going to check the pulse point at her neck. "Damn it—call the OR!" He looked at Joy's ashen face. "Prep her for surgery!"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN SURGERY?" Peeta suddenly yelled.
The doctor turned to him. "Mr. Mellark—Peeta, your wife is bleeding out—and we have no idea why. The nurses have given her blood, but she is losing it quicker than we can supply."
"What do I do?" he asked the doctor.
"Wait," Dr. Abernathy replied simply. "I will inform you on her status as soon as I can." The doctor looked to the grey-eyed nurse. "Everdeen." He nodded over at Peeta. "Show him to the waiting room."
A warm hand touched his free one. "Mr. Mellark, let's go," she urged gently and Peeta let go of Joy's slackened hand. "There is nothing you can do for Joy right now."
"I promised not to leave her—she was scared," Peeta told her weakly as he was led out of the room. "She needs me…"
They found themselves in a silent waiting room. The nurse led him to a set of couches and he sat roughly, his face falling into his hands.
"Mr. Mellark." The nurse knelt in front of him with a bleak look in her eyes. "Is there anything I can do?"
His blue eyes bore into hers. "Tell me the truth. What is going to happen to my wife?"
The nurse looked around to make sure no one was listening before speaking again. "Your wife is hemorrhaging heavily—likely from an unforeseen clot. They need to perform emergency surgery to close it. If not, she will bleed out and…" She didn't finish. "Dr. Abernathy is doing everything he can."
Peeta nodded. "Thank you for being honest."
The nurse stood up. "You're welcome." She turned to return to the delivery room but suddenly stopped at the doorway to the waiting room. "I heard you had a little girl."
He looked up at her and smiled sadly. "Yes. Her name is Joy."
"Oh gosh, here he is—again," Madge said, her eyes following someone behind her co-worker.
"Who?" Katniss asked as she wrote in the chart at the nurses' station.
"Mr. Mellark." Something prickled at the back of Katniss' neck; the name sounded vaguely familiar. "His wife was the one who…" Madge didn't finish. "It was Dr. Abernathy's first loss in years—took a lot out of the man."
"I know. I can only imagine why he was so distraught."
After that case, Dr. Abernathy took a leave of absence—his first in almost ten years as head obstetrician at Panem Hospital.
"Anyway, not only does Mr. Mellark have to deal with losing his wife—his daughter has been here for nearly two months for that infection in her lungs," Madge informed her. "Dr. Mason has taken on her case."
"Well, if anyone can help his baby—it will be Johanna," Katniss told her as she closed the chart.
"Nurse Everdeen, in the hospital—I am Dr. Mason." Katniss turned to see her best friend standing before her, lips pursed in mock-seriousness. "When we're hanging out and you're buying lunch—then I'm Johanna."
Katniss suppressed her smile. "Sorry, Doctor."
Johanna turned to Madge, her eyes stern. "Also, Nurse Undersee, I suggest that you stop gossiping about our patients' fathers."
Madge bowed her head shamefully. "Sorry, ma'am."
"Do you have your charts ready?" Johanna asked her friend and Katniss nodded. "I'll be in the nursery in a few minutes. Why don't you go inside and meet the families?"
"How's Joy doing?"
Peeta looked up tiredly at Finnick, another father in the NICU nursery, and gave him a smile.
"I think she has a little more color," he replied as he looked back at the little bundle that was his daughter inside her incubator. She was wrapped in the soft yellow blanket his wife had made for her. On her head was a small white cap—also made by Joy. "How is Lennox doing?"
Finnick looked over at the identical enclosed crib where his son lay. In a rocking chair beside it was a sleeping Annie—Finnick's wife—her head craned to her left as she snoozed.
"He's breathing on his own now," Finnick informed his friend. "And Joy?"
"I think Dr. Mason is going to talk to me about that today," Peeta responded.
The door to the nursery opened and a dark-haired nurse sporting a long braid entered the room. She went to Beetee and Wiress, whose daughter, Cadence, was another resident of their little nursery.
"It looks like we have some new meat in the NICU," Finnick joked quietly. His friend chuckled at his antics. Finnick and Annie liked to mess with some of the nurses—it helped to ease the tension that all the parents felt. "I'd better wake up the wifey."
Peeta's eyes went back to Joy, her little pink lips hiding behind her respirator. She had his wife's lips, full and cotton-candy pink. He remembered fondly that his wife's kisses had even tasted like cotton-candy.
"Mr. Mellark?" He looked up to see the pretty nurse in front of him. "I'm Katniss Everdeen. I'm going to be Joy's nurse this evening. How is she doing?"
The grey eyes he saw looked familiar...a long-ago feeling of warmth filled him as he gazed at her.
He suddenly realized that he had spent a long minute staring up at the nurse. Shaking himself out of his trance, Peeta replied quickly, "Uh…I think she has a little color." Katniss nodded and leaned down to look at his daughter. "She's been asleep since I got here."
"She's lovely," Katniss breathed, her eyes beaming at the little one in front of her. "Definitely going to be a beauty—you're going to have your hands full when she is a teenager." The two laughed softly at her remark. "Would you mind?" Her eyes went over to the arm inserts on the side of Joy's encased crib as she sat in the free chair next to him. "Some parents don't feel comfortable when anyone that isn't the doctor holds their baby."
"No, go ahead," he told her.
Peeta watched the nurse reach into the arm inserts, her gloved hands reaching under his little girl to lift her gently.
"Hello, Joy," the nurse said in a quiet, calm voice. "My name is Katniss and I'm going to be your nurse until you get out of here. You are very pretty. Don't tell anyone, but I think you're the prettiest baby in this whole hospital; the prettiest I've ever seen."
Peeta let out a gruff laugh. "You playing favorites? That isn't very professional."
Katniss met his eyes as she held the infant, and he felt a sense of familiarity come over him. "Here in the NICU, I like to think that professionalism takes a backseat to care sometimes—but don't tell anyone." She looked over at Joy and her lips broke into a grin. "Oh, look—she's awake."
Peeta turned to see her blue eyes staring at him; his eyes. His wife's eyes were hazel with glints of gold.
He felt his eyes water. "She's never woken up when I was here—until now."
Katniss' eyes went to his hunched figure. "Really? Not once?" Peeta shook his head, his eyes ashamed. "Have you ever held her?"
"No." It came out chokingly. "I've never really been taught how to. It doesn't matter, anyway. I would be too rough on her."
Slowly, Katniss placed the baby back down on the soft cushion bedding of her crib. Pulling her hands out, she reached for Peeta's and slowly brought them to the openings.
"I—I can't!" He looked at the nurse, his blue eyes panicked as he took his hands from the holes. "What if I hurt her? She's all I have!"
Katniss shook her head and he could see her bite her lip, her own dark eyes suddenly pained.
"You're her father—you would never hurt her," she assured him. "Let me help you." Placing his hands back into the inserts, she gave him a gentle nod. "Now, go ahead and put your hands in with your palms up." Peeta followed her instructions and Katniss smiled at his nervousness. "You're doing great. Now, gently slide your hands under her—one under her neck and the other under her rump."
Katniss watched as he carefully slid his hands under the appropriate spots and he gently lifted Joy.
"Oh God, she's so light!" Peeta said softly and his eyes filled with tears.
He was holding the sun in his hands and it felt exhilarating.
Peeta saw Joy's eyes open and he could swear that he saw a wisp of a smile on her pink lips.
"Daddy's here," he told Joy, his lips curved in a trembling, yet happy smile. "I'm sorry it took so long for me to find my way to you. You'll learn that sometimes people need help, even when they don't realize it." Peeta looked over at the nurse. "Thank you."
"Of course," Katniss replied and patted his shoulder. "I'll leave you two to talk."
"I remember you," Peeta suddenly said. "You were there—that morning."
He saw her bite her lip again before nodding. "I didn't think you would remember."
His haunted eyes looked into hers. "How could I forget the best day and the worst day of my life?"
Three Weeks Later
"Oh please, say to me
You'll let me be your man
And please, say to me
You'll let me hold your hand…"
Katniss approached Peeta slowly as he held Joy though the arm inserts and sang to her softly. The infant had her respirator removed only a few days ago and she seemed to be responding well. She had even begun to gain some weight on her tiny, premature frame. Katniss believed that Joy's improvement had a lot to do with Peeta's continued interaction since that first time he held her.
"What a lucky girl you are, Joy," Katniss said as she sat next to Peeta and looked at the infant. "Only three months old and you're already being serenaded."
Peeta's cheeks reddened at her words. "We danced to this song at our wedding. I thought that Joy would like to hear me and her Mama's song."
"That's good," the nurse informed him. "Keep communicating with her." She looked around the room, spotting the empty incubator across from Joy's. Finnick and Annie had finally taken Lennox home after four months in the NICU. "I think it helps them stay when they know that someone is calling for them."
"How long have you been a nurse in the NICU?" Peeta asked curiously as he gently set his now sleeping daughter down and slowly removed his hands from the inserts.
"Five years," Katniss informed him. "Four in another hospital, and a year here at Panem Hospital. I've always wanted to work here. I just happened to hear about the nurse vacancy from Dr. Mason and her husband since I was living with them. I applied and was hired straight on."
"Dr. Mason is married?" He sat back in his chair tiredly. "She seems very work-driven. It must be hard to balance her work and home life."
"Her husband works here." Katniss grinned. "You know him—Dr. Abernathy."
"No kidding," Peeta replied and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the tops of his thighs before looking at her. "Is he doing okay? I heard that he took a break after Joy—"
"He's fine," she reassured him. "He'll be returning in two weeks—maybe you can introduce him to Joy."
"Nurse Everdeen?" Peeta and Katniss turned to see Dr. Mason behind them, clipboard in her hands. "Can I speak to you for a moment?"
Katniss stood up quickly. "Yes, Doctor." She turned to Peeta. "I will talk to you later, Peeta—I mean, Mr. Mellark!"
He gave her a warm smile. "I'll see you later, Katniss." She tried not to blush at seeing his smile and turned to see Johanna peering at her.
Together, the two women quickly left the nursery and silently walked down the hallway towards the exit of the unit.
When they were outside of the double doors of the NICU, her friend and boss finally turned to Katniss.
"You are treading a dangerous line, Katniss," Johanna said to her worriedly. "Don't ruin your reputation over this—over him."
"What are you talking about?" she asked, trying to keep her voice light.
Her friend looked into her eyes. "You have a crush on Peeta Mellark," Johanna stated. "Peeta, a widower who just lost his wife three and a half months ago. And Peeta, who has to take care of that little girl in that nursery."
"I don't!" Katniss protested, her eyes blazing. "And I know that he lost his wife, Johanna. I was there when she was bleeding out! I was there when your husband was operating on her—and I was there trying to jump-start her heart when she suddenly went into cardiac arrest!" She sniffed the sudden tears that threatened to spill forward. "He needs someone to be on his side."
"Okay, I get it," her friend replied, her eyes suddenly sad. "It was a bad morning for everyone." Johanna closed her eyes for moment, massaging the spot between her brows with her fingers, before meeting Katniss' eyes. "I just want you to be careful. Joy's prognosis is favorable—and a lot of it has to do with you. I just don't want you to be hurt when they leave."
"I know," Katniss said, her voice hard. "Now, excuse me—I have patients to see."
Two Weeks Later
It felt good to be out in the fresh air.
Peeta made a promise to himself that he would take Joy out to the seashore as soon she was given the okay. The sea breeze was always the sweetest air to him. His mind wandered to his first time meeting his wife; she was wearing a pair of jean shorts and a crop top that day, her blonde hair loose and her smile pretty.
He remembered feeling like he just had to have her or he would die.
Young love was so sad and short sometimes.
"Mr. Mellark?" He turned to see Katniss coming towards him from the open door of the roof entrance. "What are you doing out here?"
"Finnick and I used to come up here to grab a quick smoke," he told her, holding up the lit cigarette in between his fingers. "I don't usually smoke, but there are some days that I really need it." Throwing it to the ground, he put out the butt with his boot. "I didn't always need a smoke to get through a bad day—Joy always had a kiss waiting for me if I came home with 'pancake face.'"
Katniss smiled at him. "Pancake face?"
"Yeah. She said that when I was upset, my whole face looked like it was pressed into a frown," he recalled with sad smile. "Like someone had pressed my face down onto a pan."
She giggled and he found himself responding to the sound, his lips curling up into a smile.
"Your wife was an interesting woman, Mr. Mellark." Katniss turned to look out at the city in front of her and he admired her delicate profile as the breeze played with the loosened tendrils of her braid.
"Why don't you call me Peeta anymore?" he asked all of a sudden. "You used to."
She turned to him. "I didn't think that it mattered to you."
"It does," Peeta told her. "I thought we were friends."
Katniss sighed and crossed her arms. "We can't be friends—not here. I'm your daughter's nurse and that's all we can be." He swore her eyes shone with tears, but maybe it was his imagination—or wishful thinking.
"I'm taking Joy home tomorrow," he informed her after a moment. "I've got everything all set-up. Diapers, bottles, pacifiers—Joy painted the room herself the moment she found out she was pregnant."
Katniss' mouth perked up in a smile. "What color did she paint it?"
"Yellow," Peeta chuckled. "I asked her why—and Joy said that she always wanted her daughter to be in the sun. She was already sure that we were having a girl." His face suddenly fell into a frown. "What will I do with my girl?"
Peeta knew nothing about being gentle or delicate, or about dresses or ribbons. He was as rough as a man could be. He worked for a construction company driving bulldozers and had always thought that Joy would be there to teach their little girl how to become a strong woman, just like her.
However, Joy was gone and all that was left for their daughter was her worn, downtrodden father.
"No one really knows what to do in the beginning," Katniss replied. "That's how we all start out—scared shitless. You will learn in time what is right and wrong for Joy. She doesn't need pretty dolls or dresses—she needs someone who's going to show her how to become a good person. In some way, I know you—and I'm confident that you will be okay."
They looked at one another for a moment and his fingers suddenly went to the tip of her braid.
Katniss didn't move away—instead, she watched his thumb move over the small piece he held. Somehow, feeling the softness of it soothed him. In the far reaches of his mind, Peeta had often wondered how soft her hair was.
"Will you teach me how to do this?" His cheeks warmed as the question tumbled from his mouth. "For when Joy is older?"
Katniss stared at him for a moment before wordlessly pulling the elastic band from her hair.
"Sit," she said to him and he followed as she sat on the ground of the hospital roof. She turned to him and he marveled at how pretty she looked with her dark hair down, framing her face. "You'll need to learn this before the sun goes down and we lose the light—so, listen carefully."
Peeta listened diligently to Katniss' instructions, his hand weaving through her soft hair, and he imagined one day braiding his daughter's sunshine locks as the sun went down in front of them.
It had been a long week for her.
Katniss was grateful to have the next few days off. She was in desperate need of sleep.
She looked into the nursery and her eyes suddenly zeroed in on the empty crib where Joy once lay—something inside her ached at the thought that the little girl would never remember her.
"Nurse Everdeen?" She looked up from the chart she was completing to see Haymitch in front of her. He had come back right on time to meet Joy before she went home. She could've sworn that there were tears in his eyes as he held the tiny golden-haired girl.
Joy had that effect on everyone.
"You okay?" he asked carefully. Katniss was sure that Johanna had spoken to him about Peeta.
"I'm perfect," she replied as she closed the chart. Katniss met his eyes and smiled. "Ready to take a break, that's all."
"I was wondering if you could do me a favor," Haymitch suddenly said. He placed a folded yellow blanket in front of her. "Madge found this in the NICU nursery—it needs to be returned to the owner."
"Why don't you just mail it?" she asked.
"It's on your way to the house," he told her. "It will be a quick drop off."
"Haymitch—" Katniss took the blanket from him. "Why are you so insistent?" She unfolded it and stopped at the embroidered name in the corner: Joy.
Her friend slid a piece of paper across the desk to her. "Their address." Haymitch met her eyes. "If you don't tell—I won't."
"Katniss?" Peeta stepped out onto the front porch where she stood. "What are you doing here?"
Katniss held out the blanket to him, her cheeks flaming as he took it from her. "You left this in the NICU—and I know how much Joy liked sleeping in it. She loved being bundled in this." She met his eyes in the evening light. "How is she?"
He grinned. "She's perfect. And I'm tired—but I'm happy."
"That's great," she said to him. "I knew you were going to do just fine."
They went silent.
"I should go," Katniss told him abruptly. "It was nice seeing you, Peeta." She turned, stepping off his porch, and began the walk to her car.
"Hey, Katniss!" She turned to see Peeta in front of her, his eyes—Joy's eyes—glowing under the light of the moon. "I know you said that we couldn't be friends in the hospital—but, we're not at the hospital anymore." He looked at her hopefully. "Do you think we could be friends now?"
Katniss felt the grin grow on her face and she nodded. "I think we could do that."
He beamed at her. "Did you want to come in for a cup of coffee? We'll have a good half-hour before Joy wakes up."
"Sure—as long as you let me tuck her in."
One Year Later
"Goodnight stars
Goodnight air
Goodnight noises everywhere…"
Peeta stopped in the doorway, watching as Katniss and Joy sat with their backs to him on the soft cream carpet of his daughter's nursery. Joy touched the pages of the book open in front of her and Katniss. He watched as Katniss placed a kiss on top of Joy's short, golden hair.
"I can't believe you're one," Katniss said to his daughter. "You've grown up so fast, sweetheart." Joy gurgled happily and he watched his daughter's hand reach for her dark braid—she loved playing with Katniss' hair. "I love you, Joy. Do you love me?"
Joy turned and simply patted her face, her pink lips widening in a toothy smile.
"Good enough for me," Katniss said with a grin.
Sweet blue eyes looked up at her. "Mama?"
The melodious call made his heart jump.
Her voice was so light and full of innocence—so much like his late wife's, who he missed every day. But that pain lessened as he watched his daughter grow in front of him.
Peeta never really lost Joy; he saw her in their daughter. He saw pieces of himself in her, too.
And, he even saw bits of the woman sitting with his daughter.
The woman who loved Joy like her own—and the woman who had slowly woven her way into his heart.
"Oh no, sweetheart—" He heard Katniss say. He could hear the heartbreak in her voice. "I'm not—"
"No—" Peeta suddenly entered the room and sat next to her. Lifting Katniss' chin with his finger, he kissed her softly and looked into her eyes. "Joy can call you Mama—if you want her to."
She stared up at him for a moment, her mouth lifting into a blissful smile. "Yes."
Their lips met once more and when they pulled away, both of their faces were wet with tears.
Katniss cleared her choked throat before lifting their daughter onto her lap.
"Yes, Joy. I'm your Mama."
FIN
* "I Want to Hold Your Hand" is sung by The Beatles
"Goodnight Moon" is written by Margaret Wise Brown