Love Is

AN

From Tumblr Caring for Injured Partner Prompt

#7 "you have the worst kind of luck"

Okay. So this is not really an injured partner, but it is still about caring. Everlark toastbabies. Family fluff. =)

Thank you so much to endlessnightlock for the prompt!


P.S.

I love the Hunger Games. Suzanne Collins owns everything!


"Okay, Free, so this is a dandelion," Mama said while running the pad of her index finger on the beautiful watercolor painting of Papa. Many of the pictures in the old family plant book were drawn by him. Every leaf, flower, root, and fruit showed the careful strokes of his skillful hands.

While sitting on the living room floor of their big Victor's Village home, Mama was teaching her daughter the edible plants that could be found in the woods and in their backyard. Even though her daughter was only five, Mama said it was never too early to learn about the woods. Papa made it possible in their backyard garden too. He filled it with vegetables and flowers. Since it was springtime, everything was in full bloom outside.

"Can I eat it, Mama?" Free asked in her squeaky yet sure voice. Her blue eyes mimicked her father's, but her hair and skin color were that of her mother's. Who between her parents she will grow up to be like remains to be seen. Right now, she's enjoying her time baking at home with Papa and foraging in the woods with Mama. Being the only Everdeen-Mellark child, she has her parents all to herself.

Mesmerized, Free looked closer at the intricate brush strokes of the petals, her snub nose almost touching the yellowing pages. Every drawing in the book resembled the real ones that she often thought she could pluck them out like the primroses outside.

"Is it yummy, Mama?"

"Very much so, little squirrel," Mama replied, then she lovingly brushed her daughter's forehead. Free's small white teeth sparkled when she gave her Mama an eager smile.

"Come closer, Free," Mama said, and Free thought that her Mama was the most caring person in the whole world.

Leaning down, Mama popped the bands of her pigtails and rebraided them with sure fingers. Papa said once that it was Mama's way of reminding herself that she has a daughter now.

To please Mama, Free stayed as steady as her five-year-old body could do while Mama twisted her hair in an elaborate plaid. The blue sky with its fluffy clouds invited her to look out the nearby window, figuring out the animal shapes in the sky.

"Mama?" Free said when Mama's hands stopped braiding.

"Just stay right here, Free," Mama uttered hurriedly before running towards the bathroom to vomit. She almost didn't make it when the meal she ate a few hours ago went straight out of her mouth like a waterfall. Mama sounder horrible, Free thought.

Despite what she was told, Free followed her Mama and stood three steps away from the partially open bathroom door. She didn't know what to do then, only waiting as Mama emptied her stomach.

"Anybody home?" Papa suddenly chimed in from the front door. His footfalls were unmistakable, and the sound of him hanging his jacket inside the closet could be heard all the way to where Free stood.

"Katniss? Free?"

"Papa!" Free shouted and zoomed towards her father, hugging his left leg just above his prosthesis.

"Hey, donut. I missed you! ... Where's Mama?" Papa asked as if he didn't know where to find her. The retching sound she was still making could be heard as far as the front room.

Smoothing his daughter's hair, he lifted her up in his arms like she weighed nothing at all and walked down the hall, following the heaving sounds of Mama in the toilet.

"Okay, just stay here, donut," Papa instructed when they reached the hallway near the bathroom. He lowered Free to the floor and then pulled something out of his pocket. "I brought you these from the bakery. I know how much you like sugar cookies. Now, why don't you have a snack while I go and help Mama?"

With small but capable hands, Free opened the loosely knotted handkerchief and found three heart-shaped cookies with a sprinkling of pink crystal sugar. It shimmered with the sunlight streaming from the window and smelled like creamy butter and vanilla. At five years old, she already knew that love always came with scrumptious snacks.

Tucking her legs under her sundress, Free sat down on the hardwood floor to nibble at the tasty snack. Her ladybug socks peeked from underneath her skirt while watching the outlines of her parents on the half-open door. She saw her Papa braiding Mama's hair and slowly rubbing her back as he whispered something into her ear. A kiss on the temple followed, and her Mama closed her eyes as her breathing relaxed.

The vomiting stopped when Free was on her third cookie. She saw Mama finally settle down on the gray tiled floor, leaning her sweaty head slightly on Papa's broad chest as he wrapped her gingerly in his arms. Aside from food, she was reminded that love always came with a warm hug.

...

Hearing her Mama vomiting in the bathroom again brought Free out from her dream of singing daisies and fluffy orange rabbits. The moon still stood low in the sky as she tiptoed out of her bedroom into her parents' room across the hall.

"Mama?" she called into the dimly lit room, her tiny voice sounding like she was about to cry. On the nightstand, she found a white plastic strip. Curiously, Free picked it up before walking with her sock-covered feet to the bathroom. "Mama?"

"Free, honey buns, what are you doing here?" Papa asked and quickly turned towards her. He closed the bathroom door behind him, leaving Mama alone as she washed her face in the sink.

"Did you have a bad dream?" he cooed and noticed what she was holding. "Where did you get this, honey buns?"

Free buried her head into her Papa's neck and gave him the white plastic stick. "What is this, Papa?"

"Just a test, baby. It's to see if Mama is pre ... Umm ... positive."

"Positive?" she repeated, unsure of what Papa meant.

"For a bug in my belly," Mama abruptly supplied. She smelled like mint toothpaste and lavender soap. "Come to Mama, little squirrel."

"Yes, a bug in her belly," Papa repeated, bobbing his head and grinning like a sloth.

"Are you sick, Mama?"

"She's positive," Papa answered with a tone that's too happy to announce an illness. "I mean, yes, Mama has a bug. A marvelous and an unexpected ladybug!"

"Peeta," Mama scolded, rolling her eyes and scowling at Papa. She massaged Free's back soothingly, willing away all worries.

"That's why Mama needs to rest now. She will be better in the morning."

Returning to sleep was easy being tucked between Mama and Papa. After two good night kisses on her cheeks, Free closed her eyes and listened as Mama and Papa whispered 'good night' and 'I love you's.'

In her simple and innocent mind, Free knew that that was what love was - feeling safe in your parents' arms.

...

"Guess what, sweetie pie?" Papa quizzed as he came back to the kitchen after checking on Mama. The bug was back, and Mama's been in the bathroom for a long time. "You're going to the bakery with me! Won't that be fun?"

"Yey!" Free shouted, hopping down from her chair. The bowl of crayons fell down with her and scattered the coloring materials on the floor. Patient as he always was, Papa helped her pick them up one at a time and put them back on the table.

"What a beautiful garden, Free. This would make Mama exceedingly happy!" Papa praised after seeing Free's drawing. He patted her shoulders and then kissed her hair. "Okay, time to go now. Go give your drawing to Mama and say goodbye."

"Can you write 'I love you' beside the sun, Papa?"

"Sure, sweetie. Let's write it together," he said, then took her right hand in his, holding the crayon firmly with her petite fingers. Papa recited the words as they ran the red block crayon over the paper. "Perfect."

They both smiled at what they had written, warmth welling up in their chest. Love also came with kind words and beautiful drawings.

...

Free drew every day - dainty violets, chunky orange clouds, delicious chocolate chip cookies, fresh wild apples, interesting shops from town, hopping bunnies, and chirping birds perched on tall trees. Whatever caught her eyes, she rendered on paper with excitement and wild imagination.

"What do you have there, cupcake?" Papa asked as he placed a tray of tea and biscuits on the coffee table in the living room. "You're getting so good at drawing lately. You make me so happy."

"It's for Grandpa and his geese! See the vegetables, Papa?" Free replied, pointing at the bowls of mixed lettuce, carrots, and grains, all arranged in a line on the green grass. She giggled as she thought of Grandpa Haymitch's loud geese.

"How very thoughtful of you," Mama supplied kindly. She squeezed Papa's right shoulder and gave him a knowing nod as she moved a throw pillow aside. "Free, why don't you sit down on the couch with us first and have some snacks? Papa and I want to tell you something."

"Okay," she replied and quickly shaded the carrots with bright orange crayons. "I'm done!"

Sitting in the middle, Papa gave her and Mama a biscuit to nibble on. He chomped one down himself, washing it hastily with a loud slurp of mint tea. He flashed them a big smile, almost radiant like the sun outside their window. Papa was so adorable like always.

When Papa finished, Free was very puzzled by his story. He told her that the ladybug in Mama's belly was getting bigger and was here to stay. If everything went well according to plan, he said she would have a baby brother soon. "First week of January, to be exact. Right when the new year turns," Papa said with a grin and twinkly eyes. "You're going to be a big sister, cupcake. Ain't that nice?" he added cheerily.

"But the bug makes Mama sick?" Free asked seriously, her squeaky voice in tow. "I don't want Mama to be sick anymore."

"I'm not, little squirrel," Mama supplied, her sure gray eyes affirming it. "That was just several weeks ago. Mama is fine now." Proving her point, Mama rubbed her own belly eagerly with her right hand, her face glowing like a full moon.

With her dark blue eyes, Free observed Mama's stomach and sized it up. It was covered by her white shirt, and Free thought that Mama's belly didn't seem too big. It was more like she had a big lunch like last Sunday.

Shifting her impossibly big irises from left to right and back again, Free drank her parents' gaze. Both her parents had stars in their eyes. Mama's mixed with a little something she couldn't really tell, but Papa's was a full supernova. He was beaming and excited and smiling excessively like one of the dandelions in her drawings.

"Okay!" Free shouted and ate the rest of her biscuit. It was sweet and buttery with a hint of lemon. "What do we do now?"

Mama and Papa laughed out loud for a minute, looking very pleased with themselves and their explanation. They entwined their hands above the back of the couch and looked at each other softly, just talking with their eyes.

"Can I see your belly, Mama?" Free asked and interrupted their staring game.

"Sure, little squirrel," Mama replied. She then lifted her shirt, exposing the patchwork of skin that Free had seen many times before.

"Go ahead, cupcake. You can touch Mama's belly," Papa encouraged.

Free moved her right hand first, splaying her palm fully on the slight bump below Mama's belly button. Her left hand then followed, placing it just beside her right. The skin of Mama's belly was warm and tight, its moderate curve fitting nicely under her tiny palms. Unexpectedly, Free's lips moved to form a small smile, and her chest grew warmer like when she would run in the meadows.

Lacking words, Free couldn't explain how she was feeling. Her young mind and soul were incapable of grasping things fully yet. All she knew was that it felt good touching Mama's belly. When she tilted her head up, she saw the mesmerized eyes of Papa and Mama looking down at her so fondly. Their pair of blues and grays were filled with wonderment and jubilation. She didn't know it then, but what she felt at that moment was pure love.

...

Months went by with new things happening in the house. Papa would make Mama a special shake every morning, adding vitamins and syrups in the blender before he made it buzz. Sometimes he would make a glass for Free too, but she preferred hot chocolate more than anything else.

Papa and Mama moved all her things to the adjacent room; it was only one door away from theirs, so Free was okay with it. Her old room, Papa said, would be turned into a nursery for her little brother.

Paint buckets started appearing one Saturday morning in August. Grandpa Haymitch came early, carrying paint trays and rollers on long sticks. He gave Free her own yellow brush and bucket, telling her to go wild and free on the walls. It was fun drawing and swishing her brush on such a big canvass. Everyone was happy and singing even when paint would go on their jumpers, cheeks, and hair. Papa even made sure to draw flowers on Mama's olive skin. Free thought that she was a wood fairy.

In September, Grandma Effie, rather Auntie Effie, brought two crates of stuffed toys, blankets, curtains, and baby clothes. She also had Papa carry a heavy roll of soft, fluffy white carpet from the train station in town. Like always, she said that the day was a "Big, big, big day!"

With a clipboard on one arm and a pink feathery pen in her free hand, Auntie Effie told Papa and Grandpa where everything should go. She was strict and precise, instructing exactly where each piece of furniture should be facing. Papa didn't argue, but Grandpa Haymitch grumbled and grumbled under his breath. Mama was mad because Free learned a few bad words that day.

The old rocker with a warm blanket and velvety orange throw pillows went beside the window, looking into the garden. The white repainted crib was positioned in the left corner of the nursery, where pastel-colored gauze fabric cascaded gently above it like a waterfall. Lastly, the two drawer cabinets for the baby's clothes and blankets were carried near the bathroom door - one on each side for easy access. Two pouf ottomans were added the next day, along with a diaper changing station with organizers under it. Mama brought some pictures frames with old and new family photos, while Grandpa Haymitch snuck in a black and red striped lamp shape. The nursery was ready after four weekends, and the only one missing was the baby.

With young and hopeful eyes, Free watched as love brought their family together.

...

"Do you think we can leave her for a few minutes?" Mama asked discreetly while leaning on Papa's chest on the long couch. Papa has one arm around her shoulders as he browsed through a baby magazine from Auntie Effie. For a moment, Free looked at her whispering parents, then back at the acorns she was drawing for her own plant book. She hummed away with the new song Mama taught her as she applied crayons on the page.

Their Sunday afternoon routines were always the same - a snack of whatever Papa baked in the morning, and Mama and Papa curled up on the sofa for hours. On many occasions, Papa massaged different parts of Mama's body. Mostly it was her feet and calves. In other times it was her shoulders and head. Mama almost always fell asleep after Papa's ministrations.

"She seems very content right now," Papa answered with a wink. "Do I go first or you?"

"You go, then I'll follow after two minutes," Mama whispered, tilting her head towards him. Papa kissed her lips quickly and sweetly, then shifted to stretch his long arms.

"Anybody wants another snack?" Papa announced with exaggerated movement.

"Yes, for me!" Mama replied with zest. "Ahhhh, ooouuuuu …," she suddenly gasped.

"Mama?" Free asked, eyeing Mama's face as she winced and rubbed her belly. "Mama, what's wrong?"

"Did our little man just move?" Papa quipped enthusiastically. He knelt down on the hardwood floor in front of Mama and splayed his big hands over her round stomach. "Can you do it again for Papa?" he murmured to her skin.

Free stood up from where she sat on the warm carpet and took two steps to hover behind her Papa. She looked at the uneven ball of Mama's stomach and raised her chocolate eyebrows with curiosity.

"Would you like to feel it, sweet buns?" Papa asked, turning to face her.

"Peeta …," Mama dragged with a sigh.

Papa shrugged his shoulders and took Free's hands. "Only if you want to, of course."

"Okay!"

Unbuttoning her green and white flannel shirt, Mama showed them the stretched-out patchwork skin underneath. Gingerly, Papa moved Free's hands closer to Mama's oblong stomach.

"Let's do it together, sweet buns," he said in a mellow tone.

A minute later, nothing happened.

"What should we do?" Free asked, throwing Papa an innocent look.

"We should try talking to your little brother."

"He can hear us?"

"Sure he can, little squirrel," Mama said, the corners of her lips curving into a pretty smile. "He loves it when you sing to him. Try it, my love."

Papa and Mama gave Free an encouraging grin, then bobbed their heads telling her to start. "Even just a few notes, sweetie," Mama added.

Like the birds she loved to listen to in the woods, Free opened her young lips and let out a simple four-note tune. She smiled at Mama and Papa as they gave her a tender look, then sang the notes again. Like her Mama, Free's voice could silence the birds.

Free sang cheerily, enjoying the affection she was getting from her parents. Abruptly, Mama's belly fluttered then there was a firm limb that pushed out under her palms. It was so strong it startled her, and she pulled her hands away hastily, hugging them close to her fast, beating chest. Mama's now lopsided stomach made her freeze.

"Oh, sweetie," Mama croaked, noticing the build-up of tears in Free's eyes. Her supple olive skin looked flushed, and there was evident fear on her innocent face. It was like she had been hurt.

Without a word, Free began to cry.

It started with small whimpers until more tears fell down her adorable baby cheeks. "Papa," she cried out, then found herself enveloped in his steady arms. She buried her face in his chest and soaked his cotton shirt with her salty tears. The whole house was silent except for her sobbing.

"Oh, honey buns, it's okay ... Your baby brother just moved because he liked your singing …," Papa soothed, brushing her loose braid. "Nothing to be scared of, sweetie. It's okay …"

Mama reached out to stroke Free's tiny frame, but she flinched as soon as Mama's fingers touched her body. She cried all the more, hugging Papa's torso even tighter.

"Honey, it's okay. It's just Mama," Papa soothed, but Free shook her head and whimpered more. She pulled herself into a ball while nestled in Papa's strong arms. Free was really frightened.

"Katniss, it's all right ..." Papa said, noticing the glassy reflection in Mama's eyes. She was likewise hurting for her dear daughter. "She'll be okay. She was just caught off guard. You know how she can be, Katniss ... It's all right ..."

Worry and sadness filled Mama's eyes as she buttoned back her shirt. Papa rubbed her knees and then pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it three times with promised assurance. Quietly, he mouthed the words 'I love you' and nodded his head, expressing that things would be okay.

Though Free didn't understand it, she was enveloped with love that could drive out all fears.

...

"Peeta!" Mama called out while standing at the kitchen counter peeling apples. Free looked up from her drawing, noticing Mama's unusual expression. Nothing seemed wrong, but the way Mama called Papa had a different tone than what's usual for a Saturday afternoon. "Peeta!"

"Mama?" Free asked simply from the table. She stopped her drawing for a moment to look at Mama.

"Katniss, I really think you should be lying down right now. The baby could come any day now, and you need your strength," Papa said casually as he entered the kitchen. He was carrying the thick baby book again and reading while walking and talking at the same time. Suddenly, there was the squeaky sound of him slipping on the floor and the book landing with a thud. "What the …?"

Free giggled, and Mama rolled her eyes in utter disbelief. Papa's inelegance broke her seeming panic and made her snicker. Lowering the peeler on the countertop, Mama held out her hand to help Papa stand. "You need to watch where you step, Peeta. You could be the one going to the hospital instead of me," she laughed.

"Why is there a puddle of water on the floor?" Papa asked, confused. He touched the clear liquid, his eyebrows wrinkled with uncertainty. Mama scowled at him and glared at where the water was. It flowed from right under her, her skirt a little wet from it coming out.

"Shit! Double shit!"

"Mama, Papa said a bad word!" Free blurted, giggling at the sight of her Papa smelling and then wiping the liquid off of his hands.

"The baby is coming! Shit! It's today!" Papa swore even louder, his blue eyes big and awake like a frightened deer. He quickly rose from the floor, his pants and shirt a little wet from Mama's water. "It's today, Katniss!"

"Yes, Peeta. It's today. Now please go get my mother," Mama said coolly. Her lips were upturned, and her nose was crinkled in a half-smirk.

Papa vigorously wiped his palms on the front of his shirt and then took Mama's face between his two big hands. "I love you," he said before kissing Mama's lips tenderly.

For a moment, they just stood there, leaning on each other's foreheads with their eyes closed. Free wondered about their long, tender silence and thought they might be hurting.

"Mama, what's wrong?" Free finally said, her smile already gone.

"Your baby brother will be born today, sweetie," Mama said calmly, pulling away from Papa. "Remember what we said when the baby comes?"

"To wait with Grandpa," Free supplied simply.

"Good girl, let's go give Grandpa a phone call then," Mama said with a beautiful smile. She looked composed and clear, unlike earlier. Papa, on the other hand, still looked flushed and worried while leaning on the counter.

"Peeta, we have time," Mama soothed, squeezing his shoulders. "We're okay."

…...

The plan was to stay in Grandpa's house while Mama gave birth, but the weather had another idea entirely. Grandpa Haymitch barely made it to their front door when he braved the unyielding blizzard outside. The wind howled and poured snow all over Victor's Village. The windows rattled continuously, making everyone nervous.

"Well, don't you have the worst kind of luck, little bugger?" Grandpa said as he took off his coat and shook his graying hair peppered with snow. "We will have to stay here and listen to your mother scream her head off."

"Haymitch!" Mama scolded, shooting him a pointed look. It was so sharp that it seemed like a real arrow pierced him. She then winced and tightened her hold on the back of the couch as a contraction passed. "Don't you dare spoil my daughter's mind!" she scoffed, gritting her teeth.

"Katniss, I think we should get you in bed now," Papa said while rubbing her back and holding her other hand securely. "Your mother already has everything ready."

"Not yet, Peeta," Mama replied and straightened her back again. "The contractions are still far apart."

With the innocence of a soon-to-be six-year-old and big sister, Free watched Papa soothe and comfort Mama as she wobbled around the living room. Every now and then, he would give her some water and breathe with her as a contraction passed. Papa rebraided her hair, religiously wiped the sweat off her forehead, and whispered 'I love you' in her ears more times than Free could count. The affectionate way he kissed her temple and how she naturally leaned into his touch was delicate and full of love. They made the whole house feel warm despite the raging blizzard outside.

Grandpa Haymitch silently played chest all by himself and nibbled on spiced molasses cookies straight from the jar. Once in a while, he would chance a look at Mama and Papa, rubbing his rough beard while studying them carefully with his calculating eyes. He never said a word or gave a sniping comment, but instead, he just bobbed his head imperceptibly and then moved the chess pieces on the antique wooden board. One hour into the game, the ceramic cookie jar was almost empty.

Four more hours passed, and Free was fast asleep with Grandpa Haymitch on the couch. His loud snoring masked the unintelligible utterances Mama made as she went into labor in their upstairs bedroom. It was the high-pitched sound of an infant's cry that woke them both and got them climbing up the stairs with excitement.

"Slow down, you little devil!" Grandpa huffed as they bound up the stairs.

"I want to see!" Free shouted with glee. "Up, up, up!"

Reaching the master bedroom, Free managed to remember the house rules and knocked on the door first. She clumsily fixed her hair, wiping the loose strands off her round forehead in two seconds, and then waited impatiently for someone to answer.

"Just a minute," Grandma Lavender responded from behind the door. Free almost jumped in anticipation. "We're still cleaning up the baby."

Grandpa was panting when he caught up with her. "That's the last time I'm babysitting you, you little devil," he wheezed and then leaned on the wall to recover.

It seemed like an eternity waiting outside. Free paced back and forth down the long hallway, her hands flapping on her side as if she was about to fly. The baby stopped crying fifteen minutes ago, and she could barely hear a thing when she would put her ear on the door to eavesdrop. Grandpa was sitting on the floor, rubbing his temples from a headache, unmistakably unable to keep watch of a giddy five-year-old girl.

"Maybe you should just break the house rules and kick the door, you little bugger? I won't tell," he said with a wink of encouragement.

When Free couldn't wait anymore, she finally tapped on the door again. "Grandma? Please, I want to see …," she said, almost like a cry.

For once, Grandpa gave her an understanding look and a supportive smile. He got off the hardwood floor, fixed his wrinkled shirt as much as he could, and stood beside her by the door.

"Okay, let's go in," he said hoarsely and held her hand. Free felt comforted and steady with his old hand on her tiny palms.

"Hello, sweetie," Grandma said, unexpectedly unlocking the door. There was a lovely smile on her lips, and her pale blue eyes were watery with joy. Slowly she opened the door fully to let them both in.

"Hey, honey buns," Papa greeted from the large bed she was very familiar with. His curly golden hair was messy, but he was glowing like the summer sun. Mama looked tired, her grey eyes droopy and partially swollen like she hadn't slept in days, but her smile was permanent and blooming. Relief, contentment, and pure happiness plastered her comely expression.

When Grandma gave Mama some water to drink, she caressed the side of her face admiringly and said, "I'm so proud of you, Katniss."

"Let's show Free her baby brother," Papa whispered to Mama on the bed. Gingerly, Mama moved her arms, transferring the thick bundle of soft cloth into his big, steady hands. Free craned her neck from where she stood a few feet away from the bed and slinked a peek at her very red baby brother.

"I want you to meet somebody, honey buns. This is your baby brother, Julian Rye Everdeen-Mellark. Come say hi," Papa said, smiling blissfully as he walked towards them.

It was Free's first time falling in love.

"Julian," she repeated carefully with her young voice. She eyed her baby brother curiously and then looked back at Papa as if asking for permission to stare. Papa gave her a gentle nod and shifted baby Julian so she could see him better.

Julian's whole face was strawberry red, plump and round with pale, delicate hairs for eyebrows. His button nose was adorable and reminded her of Papa's handsome features. The quietness of how Julian breathed in the air was like the hum of wind over a still lake - relaxed, unhurried, and by all means ordinary. It was wondrous how one tiny human being could be so calm.

When Free moved her face closer to him, she caught a whiff of his sweet and tangy baby smell. It was nothing like she had smelled before - unique and pleasant, a memory working its way deep into her young mind.

Free thought that her baby brother was magnificent.

"What about his eyes?" she asked playfully, looking up to Papa expectantly.

"Let me see that little cherub up close," Grandpa Haymitch asked with his gruff, unmelodious voice. He enthusiastically wiped his palms on his pants before Papa transferred her baby brother in his arms "Ahh, there we are."

"Careful," Papa said, his voice rising a little.

"Kid, I've held a lot of babies before," Grandpa said with a smirk.

Grandpa murmured sweet nothings to baby Julian, his gaze kind and soft towards him the whole time. Free had never seen her Grandpa be so gentle and captivated.

Baby Julian shifted and yawned, opening his purplish lips and sounding the littlest of whimpers.

"Ohhhh, shhhhhhh … I got you, I got you …," Grandpa soothed, all roughness from his voice vanishing. He sneaked a peek at Mama, waiting if she would chastise him. Baby Julian cried even louder, filling the room with his newfound sound.

"Haymitch!" Mama scoffed from the bed. "Give me back my baby."

Grandpa skillfully swung baby Julian side to side, hoping he would quiet down, but it was no use, and he only cried even more. "Let's get you to your Mama now, little cherub."

"Papa!" Free called, holding her hands up and wanting to be carried to the bed as well. Papa lifted her into his arms, rubbing her hair and giving her a proud grin. Carefully and eagerly, Free sat beside Mama as Grandpa returned her baby brother. Papa's warm, steady arms enveloped them all, and Julian quieted as soon as he was nuzzled deep into Mama's breasts.

"Well, won't you look at that? This family has the worst kind of luck," Grandpa echoed into the room, his calculating eyes working."Definitely the worst kind of love."


This was supposed to be a short drabble, but it got away from me. I enjoyed writing this, and this was my breakfast activity before attending a long online conference for days. Free and Julian are in a WIP that I've been working on for months now. I haven't had the chance to return to it for weeks. My characters seem to be spilling out in short stories like this, inching their way into the fanfiction world. I hope you enjoyed reading this story!