Over time, I realized that what I needed was Gale's everlasting fire; not the hope that things would go on, but the promise that it would. I needed the warmth he would give me and the light that would never go out, and, at the end of the day, I needed my fire back. A reminder of the days before the darkness of the arena- because, while those days were dark, too, Gale's fire could always light them up for me. I needed the only person whom I could be myself with, even though there wasn't much of myself left. I knew whatever I had was enough for Gale; he had enough fire to burn on for the two of us.

So, on that day when I heard his footsteps in the door and saw him standing there in front of me, broken and bruised but still standing, after spending a long autumn alone, I knew that he would be there for the darkness of winter to come- and every winter after that. He would be there to be the light I needed and he would be there provide me with the warmth I longed for. He would be there to protect me, to keep me safe, because I was no longer up to the task. He was still mine, and I was still his. Nothing- no games, no arenas, no ghosts or mutts could change that. I know that if I had never been called onto that stage, this would have happened eventually.

He builds us a cabin in the woods, right by our spot. Posy, Vick, Rory, and Hazelle live in the Victor's Village. Posy spends most of her time here, though. Her laughter brightens everything, I think. She is only six, and she calls me her sister. She has eyes that remind me of Prim's, and Gale's dark hair. I try to teach him how to braid it, but he can only tie knots in it.

Sometimes, when the ghosts in my head are in front of my eyes, I scream. Gale always comes running, though. And he stays until I am no longer screaming. After being the strong one after all these years, taking care of a family that no longer exists and children in arenas who are already marked by death, Gale knows that I cannot hold my strength all the time. He will never understand the horror of the arena, and he does not see what I see, but he stays by my side anyways.

He never touches any weapons but his bow and snares again. It takes a long time, but finally, I am able to join him on his hunts. He never asks me to come, and for that, I am grateful. It's impossible to deny him anything, and he does not take advantage of my weakness for him.

He never asks for children, either. I know he remembers the conversation we had on the morning of the Reaping so long ago. We are content with having Posy and Vick here often, but that summer, we go visit Annie in 4. Johanna takes care of her and the baby, and it is not until I hold Finnick's son in my arms, so precious and small and pure, that I find myself longing for a child of my own. Longing to hold someone and look at someone as Annie holds him.

I bury the feeling for a year, two years, but finally, I tell Gale. He's surprised, and hesitant. He does not want to push me to do anything I don't want to do, and it takes a few months of convincing him that I really do want a child.

After all, we don't live in District 12 anymore.

Carrying the baby is terrifying. I wake up about seven times a night, screaming and shaking, and Gale is there to comfort me until I fall asleep again every time. But when I finally hold him in my arms, my heart is overwhelmed with a thousand emotions at once. I cry for a while, but then, when I hear him crying, too, I stop immediately. He needs me, and the part of me that yearned to care for Prim and Posy and Finnick's son is finally satisfied. Fulfilled.

He looks much like Gale. Except for his eyes. They are as blue as the flowers I laid in Rue's arms, and as blue as Prim's favorite hair ribbon. Peeta says there are as blue as bluebonnets. He tells me they are flowers that grow in the fields of 11, and that Delly keeps many pressed in the pages of her journals. She shows me them one day, and I agree.

Their daughter is only a year older than Aidan. They have named her Lily; she has Peeta's love for beauty and Delly's constant smile. When they visit, she and Aidan play in the Meadow. He picks her flowers, and she likes to put them in her hair. Peeta tells Gale that she speaks of Aidan often. Gale and Peeta laugh about this together- they are friends now, and when Peeta, Delly, and Lily come over for dinner, it is common for them to sit together on the porch as they watch our children play in the clearing.

The children will begin school. People have moved back to what used to be 12, and they have built up a town over the ashes of the last one. It is smaller, but much prettier. It no longer reeks of misery and desperation and ashes, but instead of the woods, hope, and strength.

On the first morning that Gale and I walk Aidan to school, Peeta, Delly, and Lily join us, too. As we stand and watch them enter the building along with tens of other children, Peeta turns to me.

"We're finally safe. And happy. And you are… you are happy too. Real, or not real?"

"Real," I say, and he smiles. "They're safe," I tell Gale. "They're safe." I repeat it, and even though I know I will never believe they are entirely safe, Hazelle tells me that this is normal.

Normal.

The word is foreign to me.

But I learn it. Gale and Aiden and I, we form our own normal. And, over time, the nightmares get better. They never go away, of course. But there are nights when I sleep from midnight to dawn, and do not wake once. On the nights I do lie awake, screaming into my pillow to keep from waking my son, Gale lies awake with me, and holds me until I feel safe again.

I don't ever return to my old self, of course. But neither does Gale. It is impossible, with her gone. Sometimes, it is Gale who lies awake instead of me, his heart stopped because he is paralyzed with fear, thinking he killed her.

But I am always there to bring him back to me. After all, he has to stay with me and cause all kinds of trouble.