A/N: Hi! Sorry for not updating regularly like I first promised. I really just want for this story to turn out right. Thanks for reviewing and everything! Especially those who added this to their favorite stories even when it's not yet finished! Thank you! And to those who followed! Anyway, here you go. Hope you still like it.
At two years, Maya can speak in complete sentences, obvious that she got her skill with words from her father. It's starting to become a problem because she's a curious kid, always asking questions. Some of them we can't even give her the real answers yet.
Like that one night, she's sitting on my lap, I'm drinking some water. We're on one of the stools in the kitchen, waiting for Peeta to finish up the dinner, when she asks us where babies come from. Classic, I know.
I almost spit a mouthful out. "What—why did you ask, honey?"
"I saw a new baby in town earlier, when we got things from the market. Where do they come from?"
I'm speechless, what do I tell her? I'm piecing up some elaborate lie in my head to tell her when I catch Peeta staring at us, wide-eyed, with the spatula in his hand. "Help," I mouth to him.
He drains the pasta and puts it on a plate before he speaks. "Babies are delivered to parents by the storks. It's a special kind of bird." Ah, yes. The stork story.
"What if you don't want a baby but one is given to you?" she asks, pouting her lips.
"Well, that doesn't happen. The storks won't deliver a baby unless the parents write a letter to Mr. Stork asking for one," he lies smoothly.
"Oh," she simply says. "So the parents of the baby I saw earlier wrote a letter to Mr. Stork and asked for a baby?"
"Yeah," Peeta says, taking his seat in front of us. Ever since Maya was born, we started eating on the counter because it's easier than eating at the table. The chairs are just too low for her, even when she's on my lap.
Thankfully, she drops the subject. "Okay. That looks yummy, Papa. Can I have some?" I sigh, at least we're safe for now.
She's also developed this habit of climbing out of her bed in the morning when she wakes and squeezing herself between me and Peeta. We leave the door open at night now, because that first morning of her habit, we woke to the sound of her cries from the hallway.
This is not something we fully appreciate, I have to admit, yeah, it's nice of her to want to sleep with us, but it makes it harder for Peeta and me to…do our thing. We tried to just do it at night but we both were so exhausted, neither of us got dressed and remembered to open the door so Maya can snuggle in the following morning.
Instead of crying, like she once did, she gave us the silent treatment for two days. So, really, it's either we'll do it and bother dressing up decently and leaving the door open or we don't do it at all.
The latter's easier. Unfortunately.
But I miss him. During my pregnancy, we weren't sexually active then because it's too risky, then after child birth, I had to rest. The months afterward, most of our time were allotted for taking care of Maya. We did see a window, when she's old enough to be left alone for a while but still young enough to not go around wandering the house. That only lasted for a short while, though.
The last time we did it was when she was a year old. We haven't done it since, and she would be turning three in two months.
That's a long time. And it's even harder when you're so used to your pillow being your handsome husband's chest, and he likes to sleep without his shirt on. When you sleep with him every night, but those nights are solely for sleeping. Just imagine. What's that expression they use? So close yet so far?
I'm desperate. So when I wake up without Maya between us, I bolt for the door and lock it. Peeta jolts awake from my sudden action, which is great.
"What's happening?" he asks sleepily. I climb on top of him and press my lips to his. He gasps in surprise, but kisses me back. He feels so warm.
"Katniss," he whispers. "What's—"
"I miss you."
He laughs, "I miss you, too."
I hear mockingjays passing tunes outside, and I can still hear them after, when we've cleaned up, dressed up and opened the door, waiting for our daughter to climb in.
It's about mid-March when Johanna comes to visit us, just to see Maya and for some catching up. She's written to us about her visit and we are expecting her train to come in about five minutes.
In the distance I see it, a long, moving, metal, grey thing headed towards the station. Hopefully this one is her train. We haven't seen each other in a while, the last time was when we paid her a visit on one of our anniversaries before Maya was born. She had looked healthy then, back to her old self. Mostly.
Loud, cranky, sarcastic Johanna is back and is bounding towards us, tackling me. She pulls me into a tight hug which I return gladly. "Nice to see you doing well, Mockingjay."
"You, too, Johanna." She pulls back and hugs Peeta, too. Then Haymitch, who we managed to bring with us. She crouches in front of Peeta, "Hi," she whispers to Maya, who's hiding behind her father's legs.
"Say hi, Maya. This is your aunt Johanna."
"You can call me Aunt Jo," she smiles. A real smile, without any hint of malice or mockery. Like Peeta, Maya brings out the best in everyone. First, Haymitch. Then her. "And this is Charlie." She gestures to the hairy black and brown puppy wagging his tail beside her.
"Hi," Maya whispers shyly. "My name's Maya."
"Give me a hug?"
After a few seconds, she moves forward and wraps her arms around Johanna's neck, giggling. "I like your hair," she says.
Johanna looks taken aback, surprised at what she heard. If I were her, if I had purposely cut my hair short to remind me of how far I've come, I'd react the same way, too.
The five of us walk back to the Village together, and the people from town greet us along the way with smiles and waves. It makes my heart swell to see that they're just as happy as us to have healed after all that. When I turn to look at my friends' faces, I see that they've realized the same thing.
Since it's almost noon, we just drop by the butchery to buy some slices of meat instead of hunting. I can do that tomorrow, and if Johanna wants to join, then that would be great, too.
Haymitch brings over a bottle of wine, saying times like this deserve a special drink. But of course, he had to prepare a glass of juice for her granddaughter. Neither of them complained.
Peeta bakes a loaf of bread which we share, dipping it in the stew we prepared. Lunch is inevitably raucous, with Johanna and Haymitch together, I should have seen it coming.
"So, Johanna, how's life in Seven?" Peeta asks.
"Seven is doing fine, and I guess I am, too. We've rebuilt almost everything, but they're thinking of renovations. The people from home are working together to make the forests flourish again. I help them, too. Just in planting though. They're kind of scared to let me hold an axe again. Can't blame them. But anything with trees, I'm totally fine. What about Twelve? And you guys," she points her fork at me and Peeta. "Especially you guys," then winks.
"What exactly do you want to know?" I ask, my voice slightly shaking in nervousness. I don't want anything to slip. Maya's too young for these things.
"The exciting stuff, Katniss. I want all the details. If I remember correctly, you didn't answer all my questions that morning after your wedding."
"I don't remember anything, sorry," I lie.
"Of course, you didn't! That was the best night of your life, I told Peeta what to do. Coached him, you would say. You know," she grabs a handful of her hair and tugs at it sharply.
"Johanna! Not in front of—" Peeta jerks his head towards the direction of our daughter, who is eyeing him quizzically. Heat rushes to my cheeks and I cough, bringing a napkin to my face to cover it.
"You can say anything to me, Papa. I won't get mad at you."
"Oh, I'm not worried about that, sweetie. I'm worried about your mother."
At this point I'm glaring at the two of them—Peeta looks nervous, but Johanna's just smirking. Which brings me to scowl.
"Okay then, later."
I groan.
Dinner is a completely different story. It's quiet, almost solemn. Maya had asked to be tucked to bed early, saying she's sleepy. Without her, there's no stopping us from talking about things us adults have been through together. Things she wasn't there to witness. Luckily. Not one eye is dry at the table.
"Sometimes I forget that Finnick's gone, even now after more than a decade. But I still do. Whenever something nice or memorable happens, my first thought would be to call him and tell him about it. I remember just last month I already had the phone in my hands when I… you know," she gulps. "He was my closest friend."
Friend. Johanna, of all people, found a friend in Finnick. I finally stop holding back and let the tears flow from my eyes.
"I think he was my only friend, actually. And he's gone. But that's good for him. At least he doesn't spend half a day locked up in a room crying because you miss someone you can never bring back. Nothing and no one to hold you but your dog." Her voice sounds cold, emotionless, but it hitches at the end. So I know she's on the verge of crying.
"You have us, Johanna," I whisper, reaching out to her. "You still have us."
"I know. And thank you. But some people you just can't replace."
Her statement makes me think of my dad, and Prim, and Cinna, and everyone else. No one's replaceable, I realize. Once you let them be a part of you, once you've shown them a bit of who you are, and they've done the same thing, there's no escaping it. It's inevitable. They're a part of you and you're a part of them forever.
"You two are lucky. And I'm happy for you. You found each other and fought to stay together. Even with all the bullshit Snow implanted in your man's mind, he was able to come back to you." She pauses, pinching the bridge of her nose to stop the tears.
"I wish he had come back to me, too. I wish I just agreed right away, to let those brightly colored freaks play me. Maybe he'd still be here. Maybe Maya has a playmate now. Maybe… maybe I wouldn't be so lonely."
That does it, the last straw, and she crumbles. Her whole body shakes from her sobs, and I pull her to me. Peeta wraps his arms around us, easily encompassing both our small frames.
"I miss him. I miss him so much. They killed him when I said no. That's why I'm still scared. I don't want to love. I can't let them use that against me again."
"You're strong, Jo. And the world's different now. You can let yourself love again," I hug her tighter. "If—if anybody dares use love against you, just ring Peeta and I. We'd take them down for you," I add as a joke.
"It's not that easy, brainless. We're different, remember? Nobody would ever understand what we've been through."
She's right. You can't know what it's like if you hadn't been there.
It hits me again how lucky I am. To have been allowed to win with Peeta as my co-victor. To have gotten out the Quell and survived the war with him still by my side. If I had lost Peeta, then I probably would have ended up alone like Johanna. Even if I was open to love, for the sake of finding someone to take comfort in, nobody would ever really understand.
Gale is out of question, I'm sure he wouldn't have had the patience to deal with my stubborn personality. As I've said before, we're too alike. And yeah, maybe he was in the war, too, but I was in the Games and he wasn't. I realize that there was a silver lining in being a tribute with Peeta. The Games changed us, bent us, and broke us even. It made us different, but our being different made it clearer that no one else can offer us the comfort we need in our dark moments. It's just us. Peeta and I, and I'm more than grateful.
I know better than to tell Johanna time will come. I'm sure she knows it anyway.
"I know what you're thinking, Mockingjay. He's out there. I hope he is. And can he make it quicker? I'm really tired of waiting."
Her joke is nothing funny, but the three of us laugh anyway. Just to relieve the tension in the atmosphere. We leave it at that, finish our dinner, and clean up. We watch her retreat to her room with Charlie cradled in her arms and walk to our room.
The following morning, when I go to ask her for a hunting trip, I see it's not only her and Charlie anymore. Maya's curled on her side sleeping beside Johanna.
"Hey, Johanna." I nudge her shoulders. Her eyes dart open instantly, those brown orbs filled with panic. "It's okay. It's just me. I—um, I'm going hunting. Do you want to join me?"
As an answer, she gets up from her bed. Maya has stirred awake, too. "Good morning," she greets, blinking at me sleepily. "Are you going hunting, Mama?"
"Yep, good morning too, honey," I kiss the top of her head. "Why don't you join Papa in bed? He's all alone there."
"Okay."
"Oh, take Charlie, too," Johanna tells her. The dog sits up happily at the sound of his name.
"Okay. Take care, alright?"
"We will. You go sleep beside Papa." With that, she gets up and walks out, the dog following her behind.
I already have my boots and jacket on, the game bag slung over my shoulder. Johanna's only in her shirt and pants, and I'm just about to go out to let her change when she closes the door and starts stripping. I forgot that she doesn't mind this. So I just look away while she changes. Eventually we get out the room with her fully clothed, but not without her teasing me for being a prude.
We take the same route I use when hunting. I lend her Gale's old bow, but she pulls out two knives from her pocket and says she's better at them. I had no idea she had them with her, but I guess I should have known. A part of us victors never really left the Games.
I take down a large turkey, which should be enough to last us for a day, and Johanna manages to kill a bunch of squirrels with her knife. Before the sun gets too hot, we head back home.
Lunch is bigger than yesterday, considering the whole turkey we brought back. Peeta roasts it, then prepares some sort of sauce he pours over it. We feast on it and eat more than half. It's that delicious. After lunch, we leave Maya with our guests downstairs for a shower. I remember years ago, before we got married, I thought of wanting to do it with Peeta because it's faster and the act is so intimate. Like sharing it feels so… sacred.
God, I hate it when I try to describe things.
Anyway, when we finish, they're playing—believe it or not—hide-and-seek. I spot Haymitch peering from underneath the stairs, I don't know where Johanna is, and Maya's It. Now this is my daughter, and I will definitely not let her lose. So when she turns to us, I point to where her grandpa is hiding.
"Boo!" she screams. Haymitch pretends to be surprised, then lifts her up in his arms, using his beard to tickle Maya. She's giggling, "I wonder where Aunt Jo is."
Just then, I see her silently approaching them from behind, then surprises them both with a fake growl. After that we all decide to rest, Maya and Johanna take a nap in the guest room, Haymitch goes back to his house, Peeta and I retreat to our bedroom.
I wake hours later, my face pressed close to Peeta's chest. When I try to get up, his arms only tighten further around me. "Peeta?"
"Hm?"
"Wake up, honey. We need to prepare some dinner."
He smiles, like he can't believe something. I don't understand why he looks like that. What did I do? Or say?
"Did you just…call me 'honey'?"
Oh. That. "I won't if you make such a big deal out of it."
"No! No, I won't. I swear. I like it."
"You better. Now come on, we don't want our guests to starve."
The turkey's still good, so Peeta only heats it up and throws in some potatoes. He prepares a bunch of rolls while I make us tea. Haymitch comes over again for dinner, and we eat, clean up and say our goodnights.
Maya doesn't even bother going to her room, just walks straight into where Johanna stays. For the following nights, she's kept her company willingly.
On her last full day here in Twelve, we take her to the woods, not to hunt or anything. Just to lie down on the grass in the meadow. We victors are easily pleased, a few minutes of peace and knowing nobody is out to kill us is enough. The four of us adults—me, Peeta, Johanna, and Haymitch—sit in silence, feeling the breeze brush across our faces, while Maya is chasing around Charlie.
One time I caught Johanna watching her with a smile on her lips. It's nice to know we can do something to make her genuinely happy even just for a short while.
She leaves for Seven the day after with a promise she'll come back when she can. We tell her we'll be waiting. After we've sent her off, we ask Maya why she has agreed to sleep beside her aunt for the whole duration of her visit. She simply tells us, "She needed someone."
A/N: This is a sequel, so most of you have read Always. I mentioned there once that Peeta wrote letters to Katniss as a part of his therapy and I was thinking of really writing them and publishing them here. I'm still not sure, but would you guys be interested? Reading Peeta's letters? But all of that aside, here's a quote from the next chapter: "Papa, look at this! It's a huge bath tub!"
Maya's so cute, God.