The lightning split the sky, its bright, jagged edges piercing the darkened night like the strike had been furled against the inky black by a furious hand. Katniss closed her eyes, and counted. 1, 2, 3...

"Mommy, I'm scared." The little girl's soft voice came out of the darkness, the tremble countered by the rumble of thunder that echoed outside.

"I know, baby. It's ok, I'm here." Katniss pressed a kiss against the silky hair that fell across the girls forehead, wrapped her arm around her just a little bit tighter. Holly had never really liked the dark, although Katniss couldn't blame her. She didn't particularly like it either - it made her think of mutts and fog and monkeys and bombs and night after night in a supply closet where Peeta's arms were nowhere near her. But she'd had a lot longer to get used to them - to try and breathe and focus on good things - than her little girl had. So she had to be strong, had to swallow the bubble of terror that threatened to engulf her. Had to remember that this bundle of energy with Peeta's blue eyes was one of those good things.

"But where's daddy? He hateses the sky breaking." Katniss sighed, dropped her head to the back of her daughters.

"He'll be back soon. He just...had to check on Uncle Haymitch."

"Is Uncy Haymish fixing lights?"

"Yes, baby, he is. Shhh now. Let's try and get some sleep, huh?"

Another crack of lightning shot through the sky, filling the bedroom with a flash of electrical light. The sheets were still pooled at the foot of the bed, from where she and Peeta had kicked them aside earlier in a flurry of tangled limbs and discarded clothes. But that felt like hours ago now, and instead of being snuggled up to her husband, her arms were wrapped around her 4 year old and Peeta was likely losing his mind in Haymitch's basement. Electrical storms were the worst, he'd told her once, very early on. He'd never let her see one of the episodes that resulted; he'd always, always left before they set in.

But right now, she needed him.

Trailing a hand gently down her daughters' hair, she began to sing softly, but the little girl squirmed, twisting until she was facing Katniss. "Momma, I hates the dark and tunder and rain."

Katniss frowned. "Hols, you don't have to be afraid of the rain; it won't hurt you. The rain is a good thing - it helps the plants to grow, for the flowers to bloom, for food to sprout in the soil." She ran a thumb across the little girls' cheek, took in a deep breath. "You know, the first time Mommy and Daddy ever really met, it was in the rain."

"Really?" Her eyes widened, and Katniss knew it was because she and Peeta rarely spoke about their childhood. They'd had an uncomfortable discussion 6 months before, when Holly had asked why she only had one Grandma, unlike Archie at school. Katniss had thought she was still too young to understand - Peeta thought it was important they at least tell her something, and had quietly explained that sometimes when people were really, really sick, they would have to go away for a while, but that they should still love and miss them while they were gone. He'd told her about Grandpa and Nanna's bakery, how smart her Auntie Prim was, how he used to wrestle with his brother when they were boys. But it had never been raised again.

She imagined it had been because of the two weeks she'd spent in bed following that conversation, unable to drag herself out, unable to drag her mind away from the images of flames twisting and winding into the sky in front of a blazing mansion.

"Mmmhmmm, we did," Katniss murmured.

"Tell me?" Her daughters' voice was small, hesitant - but curious and needy. That was what made the decision for her. Sometimes easing others nightmares were more important than your own.

She looked down into the eyes so much like Peeta's it sometimes caused her to startle. "Ok, baby, I'll tell you," she said quietly.

"Like a story?"

"Like a story," Katniss agreed. She couldn't say no; it was probably going to be the only way she could retell it, with a little bit of embellishment and a dash of make believe. "Once upon a time, long ago, your Mommy and Daddy lived on opposite sides of town. They'd seen each other at school, of course, but had never really talked."

"Daddy thought you were pretty!" Holly squealed, the storm outside temporarily forgotten.

Katniss smiled. "He did; has he told you that before?" Holly nodded enthusiastically, and she continued. "Anyway one day I was...lost, and it was raining, and I was huddling under a tree so I wouldn't get as wet. When I looked up, I saw that I was behind the bakery."

"Grandpa's?" Her thumb got slipped into her mouth; a habit Katniss was trying to break, but Peeta still thought was cute.

"Yes," Katniss confirmed. "While I was there Daddy came out. And he saw I was cold and he knew I was hungry-"

"How?"

"How what?"

"You was hungy? Did he hear your belly grumble over the rain?"

Katniss bit her lip; she only wished it were that simple. "I don't think so, baby. But I must have looked hungry."

"Okay." Such easy acceptance.

"So, in the rain, Daddy took some bread from inside the bakery, and he gave it to me and I...I took it home and ate it with...with..." The words got stuck in her throat, coated it in a thick paste she couldn't clear.

"Your Mommy took it home and ate it with Grandma and Aunty Prim." Peeta's voice picked up where Katniss' had failed, and her eyes shot over to the door as another bolt of lightning – this one softer, less harsh - illuminated the room. He was there, his eyes tired and bloodshot, hair mussed, cuts and dried blood on his knuckles; but it didn't matter. He was there.

Holly smiled happily at the sight of her father and he smiled back, walking over to the bed, and sliding in; he cushioned her between them. Katniss studied his eyes - free of the black that would rim them during an episode, just shades of blue from edge to edge. You ok? She mouthed, and he nodded. Haymitch? He nodded again.

"Did you kiss mommy in the rain?" Holly asked around a small yawn, a romantic at even 4 and oblivious to their silent communication; Peeta chuckled.

"Not that day, sugarpie. It was a long time before your mommy and I kissed. But...we've kissed in the rain plenty of times since then." His voice was tired, but she could hear the fondness in his tone as he remembered the times they'd pressed up against each other, lips melding as rain pounded around them, over them.

"So see?" Katniss said, pressing her finger gently against the tip of Holly's nose. "The rain isn't all that bad, is it?"

"No!" She giggled. Then she frowned, her eyelids fluttering. "But the tunder? It hurtses my ears."

"Ahhhh," Peeta said with a small smile. "Well, let me tell you that Grandpa Mellark was always just a little bit clumsy in the kitchen. I'm fairly certain it's just him dropping his baking tins on the floor."

Holly giggled, a light, childish laugh that Katniss knew she'd never had fall from her own lips as a child.

"Silly Daddy," she said playfully, and yawned again. Her eyelids had begun to droop, valiantly trying to put off sleep. The fight was almost over.

"Sleepy time, sugarpie," He told her, sliding his arm across her so that his hand rested against the swell of Katniss' belly.

"Don't wanna," she murmured sleepily, but they both knew she'd be out like a light any moment.

Katniss smiled at him, allowed her hand to fall lightly on his. Their fingers twined, and while Katniss wasn't sure the dark would ever be her friend, at least she knew the rain could bring them some kind of slight comfort.

Even the worst days could have a silver lining.

They watched their daughter fall asleep, and followed her soon after, the rain just a gentle patter against the window.