Epilogue

It's been five years since the reaping that changed Peeta's life, but he still dreams of Twelve. There are mornings when he opens his eyes against the dusky, pink light just beginning to brighten the sky and he can swear he hears his father in the bakery beneath his floorboards. If he breaths deeply enough he can smell the fresh, baked bread in the air. He almost expects to see Rye asleep in a bed across from him. On those days it becomes an exercise in sheer willpower just to remember to breathe, to remember to smile, to bake and cook the food that feeds the village. But on those days, Katniss is there. She's there to warm his bed, to help him to his feet, to pull a smile from him, to make him laugh. She weaves her fingers with his and he makes it through the day.

She's always been with him even when he thought that death would be the only way he would ever see her again. She was there through his mother's harsh words and as he walked to the Reaping stage. She was there in the arena when he was cold and hungry and alone. She was there when Snow took a piece of him that he can never get back. And months later, when he laid on that bathroom floor and marveled at the color of his dark blood against the cool, white tile, he had thought of her. Had hoped that when he took his last breath she would be waiting.

It still doesn't feel real. He thought that as time passed and he got some distance and perspective on the things he's been through that he wouldn't feel as awed and amazed. Maybe that's just how it will be with her though. Maybe he will always feel that way. He hopes so. And as he watches her splash through the waves with Finnick and Annie's son, he knows he would go through it all again just to get here to this place of sunshine and freedom and her.

This freedom isn't without a price. A year after he arrived on the island, a boat appeared full of people claiming to be the new head of government in Panem. Paylor was familiar with most of them. They were a large part of the underground rebellion as well and she was eager to set up ties with the mainland. The village needed supplies and assistance if it was going to survive and thrive. The officials were happy to negotiate, but the only thing they wanted in exchange for Paylor's demands was Peeta. They wanted Panem to see him, to hear his words, to know that he still stood with the rebellion. They needed him to be a voice of reason and collaboration especially for those who still clung to the beliefs of the world before the war.

Katniss had been furious with him when he agreed to go. Their village – their new home – needed the alliance and the supplies. He wanted a life, a whole life, with her and they wouldn't have that unless he went. She had bellowed at him letting her fear and anger spit words that he knew she didn't mean, and yet, he had to spit them right back at her because he was afraid too. Afraid of leaving, afraid of losing everything all over again.

He'd instantly regretted all the harsh and untrue things he'd said, and he could see in her eyes that she did too, but the words and hurt lingered between them like a great chasm that he didn't know how to cross. She didn't return to their hut that night, deciding to sleep in the hut Prim now shared with two other girls around her age. She didn't return the next night or the night after that. He still doesn't know how he was able to function during that time when sleep was so hard to come by without her next to him.

It wasn't until he was packing up his meager belongings before heading to the beach to board the boat that would take him back to Panem that she spoke to him again.

"Stay with me," she said, her hands gripping the doorframe of their hut. Her voice breaking.

The words sliced through him sharper than any blade he had ever been cut with. He had said those words to her before in that very hut and she had responded without hesitation. But he hesitated now. She knew he had to leave. If they had any chance to continue with the life they were building on this island, then he had to go. Yet, every part of him longed to drop his bag, to echo the word blazing in his brain, to pull her to him and forget promises he'd made and obligations he needed to fulfill.

But this was bigger than them. It was bigger than any love he felt for her – and he knew that he was in love with her. He had been in love with her since he was a child. It was that love that pulled so deeply at his shattering heart when he whispered, "I can't."

He had kissed her, and she had allowed it, pulling him close, her hands tracing the lines of his face. The kiss was an apology. A promise. He would be back. He wouldn't lose her again. But the look on her face, the pain in her eyes, haunted him as the boat he sailed on rolled against the waves.

They reached the shore two days later and Peeta's knees nearly gave out when he saw who waited for him on the beaches of Four. The man was thinner and grayer than the last time Peeta had seen him and he had a long, jagged scar that trailed from the corner of his eye to his jawline, but he was alive. Haymitch Abernathy was alive.

Peeta had run to shore and embraced Haymitch who stood stunned for a moment before returning the embrace. Peeta poured all of his gratitude – all of the affection he had for this man who had watched after him, who had kept him alive – into the hug. He hoped Haymitch could feel it. And as Haymitch coughed to cover the way his breathing hitched, patted Peeta's cheek, and then made a smart-ass crack about how he couldn't believe Peeta had agreed to this instead of running off with his girl, Peeta knew that Haymitch felt it.

Haymitch stayed with him as he stepped onto a train that would lead them back to the Capitol, explaining how the survivors from District Three had traveled to District Five and banded together to get the power back on allowing Cressida to reach out to any remaining rebels. She sent out an invitation for members of the rebellion or any citizens of Panem who supported change to join her in the Capitol. With help from the rebels and survivors in the surrounding districts, the people in District Six were able to get the train system partially running.

Haymitch continued to explain how the rebels eventually found their way to the Capitol and formed a new, temporary government. Although, there was no official leader. They make decisions based on a majority vote and have representatives from all the districts to make sure every surviving citizen's voice is heard. Once the country had healed enough, they would allow the people to choose who they want to lead them.

As the train pulled into the still war-torn Capitol station, Peeta asked, "Why am I here, Haymitch? If the country is working together and starting to rebuild, why do you need me?"

"Hell, boy. While on the surface things may look like they are getting better, there are still many people – specifically in the Career Districts – that aren't buying into a new country and new government. Their entire way of life was changed in an instant and they're angry. But, they don't know the truth. They don't know what you went through or what happened to the victors after they won. They don't know what happened to their victors. You're here because we need you to tell your story, to help them see, and maybe – maybe we might have a chance at something lasting and real."

Peeta had sighed and nodded, but as they stepped off the train and his head craned toward the west – toward that island that held everything and everyone he loved – he said, "Do you think it will work? Do you think we can rebuild? Find peace? Live a free, happy life?"

Haymitch patted his shoulder and shrugged. "We're nearly there. I can feel it. It feels tangible this time like I could slip my fingers around it and hold on. But, who knows. We're fickle, stupid beings with poor memories and a great gift for self-destruction. I have hope though. Hope that this time it sticks." Haymitch looked at him and he could almost see the beginning of a smile. "You gave me that. You gave us all that."

It was more than six months before he stepped foot on the soft, white island sand again. He had worked tirelessly every day saying everything he could, answering all the questions they asked, and speaking honestly to anyone who would listen. At night, he would dream of Katniss, of the palms swaying in the breeze, of the sound of the waves as they pounded the shore, of his new home. The new, rebellion-led government had offered him a permanent residence and position as a representative, but he didn't want any of that. He had lived enough of his short life away from the things he cherished. He asked to go back to the island instead. To his surprise, Haymitch asked to go with him.

His heart faltered at the sight of her standing in the back of the crowd that had gathered as their boat arrived on the beach. Her hair was loose from its usual braid, the tendrils fluttering across her face and shoulders. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her bottom lip snagged between her teeth as she scanned the people and supplies leaving the boat. It was Prim who caught sight of him first, barreling down the sand and into his arms. At nearly sixteen, she was taller than Katniss and her lovely, blonde curls reflected the sun's rays. She was no longer the girl he ferried across the country. Prim winked at him and hurried off to inspect the medical supplies being hauled from the boat. She had begun working with and learning from the village doctors shortly before he had left to go to the Capitol and they had been just as astounded by her skills as he had been. She was going to make a brilliant doctor one day.

Katniss silently crossed the distance between them while he was still watching Prim, but he knew she was there. He could feel her beside him, feel the overwhelming sense she had always given him: Home. Whenever he was around her, he would always be home.

"You're back," she said, her arms still wrapped around herself, her eyes glassy.

He turned meeting her steel-grey eyes and released a strangled breath, so overcome with being near her again that he could barely think. "Ask me again," he said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Confused, her eyes narrowed for a moment until she realized what he meant. Her lip trembled, and she fought the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. A tear slid down her cheek. "Stay with me."

"Always. I'm – "

He'd meant to say more. He'd wanted to apologize. To tell her that he would never leave her again. If he had to go back, she could come with him. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, that he missed her, that he'd been waiting all his life for her. But her lips slammed into his and her body wrapped around him so tightly that he didn't know where he began, and she ended. Words weren't necessary. She already knew.

He thought of that day often; that feeling of seeing her again, of never wanting to be without her. Especially now. He couldn't imagine leaving the island now. The promise of a life to be built – the entire reason why he chose to leave – has become a reality and the only way he would leave again is if they dragged him against his will. He doesn't fear that though. The country is better. They've elected a president and still use the same model of district representation that was in place when he and Haymitch walked away. There is no longer the threat of a reaping. Peace has swept over the nation filling in the gaps left by the repercussions of the war.

Katniss's laugh drifts along with the breeze as she walks hand in hand up the beach with Finnick and Annie's son. The boy is a rambunctious toddler with his mother's dark hair and his father's green eyes and charming smile. Although she would never admit it, he has Katniss wrapped around his finger. Finnick whistles from the boat he is repairing with a group of fishermen and the small boy throws his arms around her thigh before running off to join his father.

"I think he would stay in the water all day," Katniss says with a laugh, sinking into the sand and pressing her back against Peeta's chest.

He kisses the crown of her head and marvels at how lucky he is to be able to hold her in his arms. How only a few short years ago he had been miserable and ready to end his life. How everything changed the moment he walked through that door and found her sitting there. He'll never stop being amazed by that.

She lets out a contented sigh, weaving her fingers with his and pulling their hands to her stomach and the swell beginning to protrude from beneath her dress. She tips her head back and kisses him gently on his jaw. He can feel the smile spreading across her face and he thinks that while he loves all the parts of Katniss, it's the playful side that she rarely lets people see that he loves the most.

"Peeta?" she murmurs, still smiling, against his skin.

He chuckles, raising an eyebrow in response.

"The baby's hungry," she continues, turning over in his arms and kissing the tip of his nose. "Do you have any of those cheese buns hidden away?"

Real laughter rumbles through his chest now. "You are going to get me in real trouble," he says, willing his features to look stern even though his eyes sparkle.

"It's not for me. It's for the baby."

He reaches out and pinches the spot on her hip that he knows is ticklish and she squirms, giggling until he is laughing too. He pulls himself up off the sand, bringing her up with him and leaning in to whisper in her ear, "Of course I do. I make extra every day just for you, my love. I always will."

A/N: A nice, sweet ending to a dark, twisted tale.

Thank you all so very much for coming along on this journey with me. This story has been a rollercoaster to write, but it has a special place in my heart. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

I'm currently in the outline stage of my next story (which I think will be large enough to have 4 parts). I hope to begin posting that one in a few weeks.