Author' Note: Hi everyone, I am so thankful for the amount of support this story has received. As you can see, I did not take my friend's advice, and I wrote a second part.

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Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. I am no author, so there will be grammar or spelling errors.

There is a short background lesson. So, the Vietnam War began in 1955 and ended in 1975. It started with the French losing control of the country and leaving the Vietnamese with independence. It was short-lived when North Vietnam who was communist to invade South Vietnam, which was more of a free state. During the cold war, tensions between the united states and USSR/Russia were high. The US got involved in the war in Vietnam because they were worried about the communists there winning and that this would be a pattern of countries becoming communists. Hints why my character is using the term commies as a phrase. Many people did not want to fight another countries battle, so enlisting in the US was low, and many men fled to Canada to avoid it. This is the 1960's and birth control(the pill) was not available across the state and was only given to married couples. So safe sex was condoms or absence since the mindset was that sex was primarily for baby-making only. Premarital sex was furrowed upon, and so was women being out alone in a bar.

Enjoy! Make sure to review your thoughts! I need the encouragement.

How Life Can Change with a Single Decision: Part 2 (1.7K)

I don't bother calling my family before leaving, and when my plane lands, there is no one waiting for me. A few men who were in my platoon came back with me. I stand there blankly as they rush into their wife's arms, where they express tears of joy as these fathers met their new children, who they left behind a year ago. Not everyone was gone as long as me.

The majority of these men serve maybe a year, and they are sent back to camp or home for some time. I was two days away from going home for leave when I was promoted from Private to Corporal after the last one died. From there, the cycle continued of bad luck, where I would be close to coming home, then I would be promoted because of someone else's death.

After seven years, I quickly worked myself up the ranks to First Lieutenant, where I served under Captain Snow, who took me under his wing and showed me how things are done. He was my saviour, and I am grateful for his teachings.

After many failed attempts to come home, my family grew disappointed with each time, so for the past five years, I stopped telling them when and instead did not say anything, which is half the reason I didn't tell them I was coming home.

The only reason I return today is because of an honourable discharge. After the explosion a couple of months ago at our base, half of my men in my platoon were blown to shreds in front of me, leaving me with nightmares where I would wake up screaming in the night. Although this went on for months, I turned down Snow's attempts to send me home. I wanted to stay; after seven years, it was my new home. My friends and family had moved on without me, and I had no place there.

Gale married that girl from the bar around three years ago. My parents ended up getting pregnant, making me a big brother, replacing me with another boy. Everyone else who wrote to me gave me similar news, and it made me nervous about returning since it is fear of the unknown. Of the world, I no longer know.

In my seven years, I never once heard from Katniss. I couldn't even contact her since I don't know her maiden name, and it is possible she doesn't go by Mellark. That being said, I didn't try to contact her either, since I told her to write and she agreed. Something she fell short of.

So why should I bother?

Oh, maybe because I am unsure if I am a father or not.

I never told my parents I married, mainly because I was worried about their reaction and was fearful of their response. So, I kept it quiet, which was easy to do when you don't hear from your wife in seven years.

Why Katniss never wrote was a question that haunted me for a while. Did she pass away? Was she shamed for our actions?

I don't know her; I just know her physical appearance. How old is she? Does she have parents close by? Does she work?

These questions have filled my mind for years, and I have no answers. When I drift into thought, I often close my eyes and see her stormy grey eyes. The eyes that drew me close to her that night at the bar. I wanted answers for seven years, but now that I am here, I want to flea.

The reason for my leave was brought on by me making a promise to my captain. For years I dodged his attempts to send me home, but as I held him in the jungle with the rain pouring on us during his last movements. He made me promise to return home to my life. I promised, then he died with me holding him until I was thrown backwards, slamming into something and blacking out.

I sat in a hospital bed for a week as they fixed me up. No long-lasting physical damage occurred during the blast, just a concussion and cuts. The emotional trauma was overwhelming. A few days after the captain's death, I was offered that position, and it was not pushed onto me. I turned it down by confessing my mental state of seven years of horror with no break. They seemed surprised by my confession, probably wondering why it took this long for me to snap.

All because of a promise.

Now it is spring of 1971, just over seven years after I left. I have no money, no wife, no home, and no one waiting for me. Why did I bother returning?

I walk with my bag, hung on my back down the road and don't turn back. Instead, I use this time to think. How am I going to find Katniss?

I stop outside the bright blue house and look at the newly painted doors and fence. Surely these aren't the only things that have changed, and I feel my hands grow calmly at what else I have missed.

I build myself and begin climbing the steps of my childhood home and knock twice. I hear a woman say, 'One minute,' and eventually, the door swings open.

My mom stands before me, and it takes a moment for her to register it is me because she yells for dad and throws herself into my arms. I catch her, and we hug. I draw comforting circles on her back as she sobs, thanking the Lord.

Little does she know my faith in humanity is gone. I doubt he would bring me home.

My father joins us, and it is just like the morning before I left. We stand there together and embrace each other in a collective hug. This time it isn't only the three of us. My now four-year-old brother comes up, throws himself in the middle, looks shyly up at me, and introduces himself as Rory.

I spend the night getting to know my new family, but I find myself thinking about those gray eyes again, and I know I must find her. I need the truth.

I sleep in my old room that hasn't been touched in 7 years, and I wake the next morning with a mission. Buy food for breakfast and find Katniss after.

My dad gives me the keys to his car and threatens me not to hurt his baby, and I drive to the one grocery store that hasn't changed in the time I have been gone. The yellow building isn't yellow; it is more of a cream colour because of the amount of dust covering the whole outside of the building.

I parked the car and walked towards the store; this was interrupted by having to stop quickly because a man would hit me. He yells through the window at me, and I flip him the bird.

I pull the door open for myself and the lady behind me, who happens to be clutching a small child in her arms. Her hair is red and makes me realize it isn't Katniss, but I have hope I will find her, maybe not here, but hopefully somewhere.

I grab a cart for the lady with the child and one for myself. She places the child inside, she smiles at me and carries on her way, going in the opposite direction.

I walk through the store, glancing at new products the store did not carry before, finding myself mesmerized by its packaging and existence. I follow the handwritten list my mother gave me, and I go up and down the aisle trying to find things. Once I've finished all the aisles, I realize I never found sugar.

I sigh and spin myself around. Before I left for Vietnam, the sugar had been located with the breakfast goodies, and now I am forced to backtrack the store to find it.

I turn the corner, and suddenly I am pushed back from the force of my cart clashing with another cart. I find myself fading into a dark place, thinking about how the sound was like the vehicle that got tossed when Snow exploded. I mentally shake myself out of the state and look up from the list, and I see the gray eyes that have haunted me.

Katniss.

Right before me. In this grocery store.

My eyes drift away from her eyes, and I am drawn to the light-haired child glaring at me with the same gray eyes as she sits in the cart.

I look back up to Katniss thinking I am hallucinating. She wears a look of shock, and her mouth falls open.

"Peeta?" she asks quietly.

Words fail me, and I nod. She walks away from the cart and wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a hug. At first, I flinch, but I allow the hug and return it. I put my face in the crook of her neck and breathe in her smell. Lemons.

I smile; I actually found her without looking.

I feel a warm feeling in my belly, and I can barely recognize it as the feeling of joy—something I haven't experienced in some time. The joy is soon gone when I realize we are being watched.

I pull myself away from Katniss and look at her face. She has silent tears rolling down her cheeks. I find myself lifting my hand to wipe them away. She smiles, but I remain cold, giving her a blank look.

I left my child.

Behind me sits a blonde little girl with gray eyes that looks around 7. I have a daughter.

I find myself crashing to the ground on my knees, sobbing.

The shaking becomes so intense that I feel I can't breathe. Luckily, I am pulled out of my mind by soft hands lifting my face. I meet Katniss's eyes, and she smiles.

Then I do the unthinkable.

I kiss her.

While both of us sit on the grocery store floor crying.

I have a daughter.

Eventually, I pull away from Katniss after I have caught my breathe. She smiles, and I feel the rush of joy again. I have a wife who is happy to see me.

We stand up, and I wipe the new tears from her eyes, and she wipes mine.

"So, who is this?" The little girl asks.

Katniss takes charge and says, "Oh, Alice, this is Peeta. Peeta, this is Alice, my niece." I freeze at the words that ring in my mind.

My niece.

AN: So, oops.

Sorry, not sorry. I hope you enjoyed it, I was also nice, and I didn't kill him.

It's funny how this fandom wanted her to be pregnant, meanwhile, the TMI fandom was against it. We'll sorry to disappoint. She wasn't pregnant, at least not now...

Originally, part one was supposed to end with their carts colliding, and now we are all caught up. There will be a THIRD part next week.

It was common for men to be close to returning home but be forced to remain in the field because of a promotion. Jace was one of the unlucky ones who stayed longer than usual.

Question time: So will they remain married? HEA? Why did Katniss not write? Will Peeta go back to Vietnam? Can he overcome his trauma?

Thank you to everyone who followed, and favourited. Special thanks to roguegambit, pinkgurl804, Chave, and saraleinn,

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