Title: Loss of Innocence

Prompt: Katniss and Peeta talk about their fallen tributes to their children

Warning: spoilers for MJ

Word Count: 879

It's been seven years all ready, and I feel like it was only yesterday that I finally agreed to try for a child. And now, here's my oldest, crawling into bed with her father and me, crying about a bad dream that had startled her from her sleep.

I tried, I really tried, to figure out how to be a good, caring mother. I hadn't had a very good example for a long time – the time I needed that example the most. My mother could stitch a wound as deep as a canyon without even the slightest hint of nausea, but she completely crumbled when her daughters needed her. Somehow she stayed strong after Prim, though – I'll never understand that; I suppose she just threw herself into the work, just as I threw myself into the executions.

Peeta, on the other hand, is an excellent father. Gentle and loving and understanding – everything my Peeta had always been. It had been a long struggle to get him this far, and he still has his bad days, but never with the children.

"What were you dreaming?" he asks tenderly, brushing her long black hair away from her eyes as she sits between us on the bed.

And my daughter begins to tell us of a very large clock. The clock was ticking very loudly, and each time a new hour was struck, blood would be poured over the face of the clock like paint on a canvas.

Peeta looks over our daughter at me, and as our eyes meet we realize it's time to tell her a little about how her parents met.

Nothing can be protected forever.

"A long time ago, when mommy and daddy were young –" I begin.

"Young like me?" she interrupts.

"No, baby," Peeta corrects. "When we were teenagers."

"Oh."

"There was a very bad man in charge of everyone who lived here," I continue.

"Did the bad man hurt you?"

"Not personally, honey," Peeta answers again. "But since he was in charge, he had the people who worked for him hurt us." I look over at him to see that he's holding back tears.

"The bad man made teenagers play a very bad game on TV," I go on. "And most of them wouldn't come home again."

Innocently, she asks, "You mean they died?"

"Yes. Each year many children would die, and the bad man made everyone watch it on TV. One year, your father and I were made to play the game."

"I don't think I wanna play that game," she said, wrinkling her nose and shaking her head forcefully.

"Thankfully, you'll never have to, baby," Peeta adds quietly, still fighting the tears.

"The bad man is gone?" she asks.

"Yes. He was a very bad man, and when a new leader took charge he was killed," I explain. "And the Games were stopped forever."

"What happened to you?"

"He actually made us play the game twice; which was usually against the rules, but he really didn't like me," I answer. "The first time we played, I made a really great friend," I continue. Now I feel like I'm in danger of crying. "Her name was Rue, and she was only twelve years old. She reminded me a lot of my little sister, so I tried very hard to protect her. But I couldn't…"

My daughter, wise beyond her years, brought her hand up to my cheek to wipe away my tears.

I shake myself a little, regain my composure, and continue, "The bad man only wanted one of the two of us – your dad and me – to survive, but we outsmarted him. He didn't like that, so the very next year he made us go back again. There was a plan this time, though – a plan to start a revolution. And it worked, thanks to Haymitch and a few of the other victors sent to play again. Finnick … he saved your father's life a few times. And Beetee was the one who managed to get us out of the game early. He was a whiz with wires, and did some sort of electrical thing to zap away the shield keeping us in. And Johanna hurt me, but only to save my life."

"What did the bad man do when you got out?" she inquires.

"Well, Haymitch took Beetee and Finnick and me away, to a place where we could help the revolution. But your dad and Johanna were taken by the bad man. They were hurt a lot, and your dad wasn't the same for a long time. And Johanna is still terrified of water."

"Why haven't I met any of them?"

"You know Haymitch," I answer.

"Yes, but Finnick and Johanna and Beetee?" she coaxes.

"Beetee is working for the new government somewhere far away from here. I'm not really sure what Johanna's doing now – I hope she's found somewhere to settle down. And Finnick … Finnick died during the revolution." I feel another tear slip down my cheek. "But you know his wife Annie, and their son. Well, you've met them a couple of times – you may not even remember them; you were very small."

"You lost a lot of friends, didn't you, mommy?"

"…Yes, I have, baby. Too many."