AN: Here is the final chapter, or rather, the epilogue, to Haunted Love. It's been such a wild ride and I'm so sad to see it go. I don't think I'll be starting any more multi-chapter fics soon, so Haunted Love is it for awhile. Thank you so much for everyone who favorited, followed, reviewed and critiqued HL, because without you it wouldn't be where it is today. I love each and every one of you guys so much you have no idea. I'm not good with words and speeches, so I'll leave it at that before I start repeating myself. Enjoy the final chapter!

Epilogue

Sometimes the things you are most afraid of, are the things that make you happiest

-Unknown

*Eight Years Later*

"When can we take her back?" The small, annoyed voice of my oldest daughter asks, surprising me because I thought she was downstairs. I turn to look at her, at the eyebrow pulled into a frown and the small scowl on her lips. "I already have a sister. I don't want another," she pouts. Beside me, Haymitch laughs, and kneels to her eye level.

"We can't take her back, nugget," he admits, and I set Lilith down in her crib to turn and look at the two of them. It'll always be a bit weird to see him with one of the kids, but not a bad weird. A good weird, perhaps.

"Why?" Aislin asks, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes - her father's bullet blue shade, the one that's not quite Seam or merchie - narrowed into annoyed slits. Haymitch looks up at me, his eyebrows raised as if to ask 'you want to handle this one?'. I shake my head and turn back to the newest addition to our family, smoothing back her tufts of blonde hair - a recessive trait in both Haymitch and I, no doubt - and pulling the small blanket up to her chest. Giving the 'older sibling talk' would open up too many wounds, no matter how long it had been since I'd lost Prim. It would hurt too much hearing the same words my mother and father told me when Prim was nothing but an infant. And I know Haymitch must feel the same way, so I can at least say I'm a bit guilty about forcing that on him.

"Look, kiddo, it's hard to explain," Haymitch starts, and I can hear the own struggle in his voice. "but mommy and daddy both really love all of our children, and we don't want to take any of you back. So you're a big sister, and that's a big responsibility. You have to teach them everything you know, you have to protect them. You'll see when you're older - being the older sister is the most important thing to ever happen to you, and mommy and daddy trust you to take on that task."

Aislin looks up to me, her eyes gone from those narrowed slits to wide expectancy. "Is that true, mommy?" She asks softly. I nod my head.

"It's very true, honey. You have to look after Paris and Lilith both, because you're the big girl. Can you do that for us?" Aislin looks to her father again, then back to me, before inching towards the small crib in which she used to lay. She peers down at Lilith, and her frown lifts. Aislin's mouth curls into a smile and she reaches a hand in to rub her sister's stomach. That look of condescending evaporates and loving replaces it. I can't help but smile a little at how quickly she's made up her mind.

"Okay," she whispers. "I'll be a good big sister. Paris and Lily will be the awesomest little sisters ever." Haymitch and I both exchange amused looks, before Haymitch ruffles Aislin's hair.

"Did you feed the cat today?" he asks. Aislin gasps in horror and her tiny feet pound down the stairs as she bolts out of the nursery and rushes to go feed Buttercup the Third, a small tabby cat that resembled the old beast in a scary amount of detail.

Once Aislin is out of earshot, I feel Haymitch's arms around my waist and his chin on my shoulder. "I handled that well, if I do say so myself," he says, and I can hear his voice filled with pride.

"For an old man, yeah," I tease. I can almost hear him rolling his eyes.

"Hey, watch the snark, Mrs Abernathy, I'm your old man," he fake-scolds, before kissing my neck. Now it's my turn to roll my eyes.

"You just love saying that, don't you?" I ask, pulling Lilith's blanket over her.

"Yeah, yeah I do." I turn in his arms so I can kiss him properly, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him closer to me. His hands grip my waist like they're a lifeline and I can't help but think that this is too good to be true.

A small scream snaps me out of and away from Haymitch's arms and we both make a run for the stairs. I take them two by two, quickly, and round the corner once I hit the landing. I expect to find something gruesome, like one of my daughters faces contorted into pain as a tribute mercilessly harms them in some way.

But instead I find Aislin, covered in apple juice it seems and sputtering like a fish out of water, and little Paris hiccuping in laughter. Aislin glares at her, but to her credit says nothing as she grabs some paper towels and wipes off her face. Her eyes scream murder as she towels at her hair, trying to get the sticky juice out of it.

"Sissy wet!" Paris giggles, pointing at her older sister before tumbling over herself and onto the floor. I breathe a sigh of relief as I go to help Aislin dry off, taking the towels from her and wiping up most of the apple juice from her arms and face.

"What happened?" I ask, careful not to kneel in the puddle of apple juice. "I thought you came to feed Buttercup."

"I did," Aislin pouts. "but Paris said she was thirsty and so I came in and got her some juice and then she followed me in here. I didn't know she was gonna throw it on me, mommy! If I did I wouldn't give her apple juice!"

"Okay, okay, let's get you upstairs to a bath, yes?"

"But I don't wanna take a bath!"

"You really want to be sticky all day?" Aislin sighs in defeat, her pout growing and her eyes dark with anger. Looking over, I notice Haymitch murmuring in a low voice to Paris, and her bottom lip quivering as if she's about to cry. He's scolding her then. I leave him with the task of Paris while I lead Aislin upstairs.

She's reluctant to bathe, but eventually her hands start sticking to things and she gets uncomfortable. I remind myself to stop letting her hang out with Effie so much - dirt absolutely disgusts her and she can't stand more than a couple of minutes of being dirty.

After she's clean and into some fresh clothes, she decides to stay in her room and play. I shrug and leave her to her dolls before checking in on Lilith. She's not awake, which meant she must have fallen asleep while I was downstairs. Not wanting to wake her, I close the door and head back downstairs, where it seems that Haymitch and Paris have gotten comfortable. She's curled up into his side, playing contently with her blocks and he's watching her, occasionally adjusting the toys or knocking them over so she'll keep amused and have to build them again.

"What did I miss?" I ask, sitting next to him. Haymitch shrugs.

"Nothing, much. She cried some, I soothed her, then we both decided to clean up the juice and watch some TV. She's just tired I guess, that nap was due two hours ago."

"Yeah, but her and Jessob were playing outside and I didn't want to bother them," I sigh, arranging a block for Paris. Ever since Peeta dragged Briar and their kids back to District 12 a few months ago, Paris has been especially attached to their youngest, Jessob. And he's gotten quite close to her too. It's a budding friendship, and I don't want to destroy it by dragging Paris out for her nap. Besides, letting her play means she'll go to sleep earlier at night.

When our silence lapses - like many, a comfortable and understanding one that we've shared for years and begun to pass on to our children - I sit back and look at him. It's an odd sight, seeing him with the girls, and after eight years of it, sometimes I forget that Haymitch used to be an alcoholic pessimist that refused to hope for anything that might benefit him. But I'll never fully erase those memories of his pain and suffering from my mind. I'll never truly forget how much he's changed, because it allows me to appreciate it just that much more.

Not just how much he's changed either, how much we've both matured and moved on. Somethings we'll never get over, yes but that doesn't mean we can't move forward in life.

This love of ours may be haunted, broken down and beaten and scarred and stitched, but it's ours and it's precious and honestly, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Fin.

Just a couple of things. I didn't want go with the typical Prim, Rue, etc cliche, so here are the girls full names.

Aislin Lavinia Abernathy
Paris Rue Abernathy
Lilith Prim Abernathy

I figured Katniss wouldn't want a daily reminder of her sister, but she would still want to honor her death. As well as Rue. As for Lavinia's, Katniss did mention in the books she was nice to her and that she felt like she owed her, so I think this would be a small way to repay that debt for her. The reason why Aislin doesn't have Prim as her middle name is because when Katniss has her, the memories are too fresh. As for Paris, it's more of a quirk with me. If I would have named her Paris Prim, then her last name would have to end with a 'P' or else it would irk the hell out of me. Like "Aislin Lavinia Abernathy" is seriously bothering me, but I couldn't find a female in the books with the first name of 'A' besides Annie and I really like the name Aislin so I kind of have to live with it.

Erm, in case you were wondering why Katniss left Lilith alone when she heard Aislin scream, it's because Lily was already dozing off. And besides, she still has that tiny fear that something will happen to one of the girls, so she doesn't really think straight when she fears her loved ones are in danger. Same for Haymitch.

If you have any questions or loose ends you want me to tie up, then PM me or drop a review and I'll try to answer them.

Again, I'm sad to see it go but thank you for reading Haunted Love! I love all of you guys!

- Dayna