Guess who comes to visit Peeta and Katniss? Set the following summer, approximately 7-8 months after the first chapter.

One day, when I come home, my mother sits on the porch. Her suitcase is next to her. She's dressed in a light blue dress, reading a newspaper.

I'm so surprised I drop my squirrels to the ground.

"Mom?"

She looks up, smiling when she sees me. She surely must've registered the look of complete and utter shock on my face, but still gives me a somewhat awkward hug. "It's so good to see you, Katniss."

"What are you doing here?" I blurt out. I know it's rude, but it's not every day I find my mother, who I'm barely speaking to, on my porch.

"I, uh… Decided it was time to come and visit."

Considering I haven't seen her in nearly a year, that's pretty interesting. Not to mention it's even more interesting that she didn't even bother to tell me that she was coming.

"Ever heard of calling to tell me you were coming? Or sending a letter?"

My mom actually blushes now. She looks down. "I just… Wasn't sure if I was strong enough. I figured that if I didn't tell you, then you wouldn't be disappointed if I didn't… manage to go through with the visit." She looks at the evening primrose bushes Peeta planted. They are in full bloom now. I know what she's thinking. I've become used to living here, in the house that the three of us shared, however briefly. Sometimes I can still think, just for a split second, that I hear Prim's feet running on the second floor. I expect to hear her light, happy voice greeting me when I open the front door.

Then I remember that she's not here anymore, and the sound of running feet disappears.

For my mother, who also has to fight with her already existing demons, namely the loss of my father, it must be even worse. I'm all she has, I suddenly realize, and frankly, she doesn't even really have me.

My mother isn't all alone in the world, but she's not far from it.

"Want to come inside?" Mom nods gratefully, and I unlock the door, helping her inside with the suitcase. I realize this means she probably expects to stay here, and just thinking about it gives me a headache. I give her a glass of water, and I go back to the task I'd originally planned to do, which is skinning and gutting the squirrels. I've done this a hundred times before. I work quickly with the knife. My mother looks a bit pale – she's a healer, and she's not scared of blood, but she's always been squeamish about meat and dead animals. I used to think she weak because of it.

With a quick cut with the knife, a bit too hard so that it slams into the wooden chopping board underneath, I decapitate the squirrel. That's great, Katniss, take it out on the poor squirrel. My mother jolts at the sound. The squirrel head rolls on the floor. Neither of us make a move to pick it up. It's shot through the eye, of course, all of them are.

I'm not much of a cook, but Peeta makes a pretty good squirrel pie. I just never thought I'd have my mother over for squirrel pie tonight.

I try to think of something to say, something safe. I'm the host, after all, I should probably be doing something to make her feel comfortable.

I'm a terrible host.

"So, uhm… How have you been doing?" Bad choice, Katniss, that's so not a safe thing to say, not to your mother.

My mother actually lights up, though. "Good. Good. I've been helping set up the new hospital in District Four. We're pretty much done now, it's running smoothly, but I've been offered another job there."

Oh. Perhaps this is what this visit is about.

"Are you going to take it?"

"Yes." Her eyes meet mine, firmly. I'm not used to this, I'm used to my mother avoiding eye contact, or glazing over.

"So you're not going back to District 12, then?" Another question that can hardly qualify as being safe. What am I doing here, am I deliberately trying to piss off my mother, destroy what little I have left of a relationship with her?

Now she looks down. It takes a while for her to answer. Finally, she shakes her head. "No." Another long pause. "Too many ghosts." She looks at the wall, and I follow her gaze to the photo of Prim. My eyes fill with tears, I quickly brush them away before she sees them.

Suddenly I hear heavy steps in the hallway, and I know it's Peeta. I have a moment of panic, I haven't even told my mother that we are together, and I have no idea how much she knows, if she's talked to anyone. I basically have no contact with anyone outside of District 12, and neither does Peeta. I have no idea what Haymitch is up to, though.

Peeta must've missed the suitcase standing in the hallway, because he shouts "Honey, I'm home" as if I'm some kind of perfect little wife waiting for her husband to come home from work, when I'm in fact just his messed up girlfriend and he's the one who does most of the cooking and cleaning. He's back from the bakery. "Katniss, I'm… Oh, hello, Mrs Everdeen." Peeta can't hide his surprise, and for once he's at a loss for words. Which doesn't happen very often, he is, after all, Peeta with the silver tongue. But he quickly regains it.

"How are you, Mrs Everdeen?" Before I know it, he's made my mother tea and scones. My offer of a glass of water suddenly appears less than welcoming in comparison. Peeta and my mother chat about harmless, safe things. The weather, her dress, the scones, her choice of tea. I envy Peeta his ability to have an unstrained, normal conversation with my mother. He even picks up the forgotten squirrel head from the floor.

My mother's not much of an actor, I guess that's one of the few things I got from her. I can tell she really wants to ask a question, but doesn't really know how to. So after a lengthy discussion about medicinal plants with Peeta, she finally asks, hesitantly: "So… Are you two living together here now?"

I exchange glances with Peeta. "We… Uhm, yes," I finally answer. It's hard to meet her gaze, but I make an effort to. "I thought you… knew?"

My mother shakes her head. "No, I… Don't talk to anyone from District 12. I've been so busy, and…" she trails off, and I understand what she's not managing to say. She couldn't handle it. She has no idea how I've been doing. I could still be howling at the moon like a rabid dog in matted hair with the skin peeling off my body for all she knew. I suddenly feel abandoned. Again. And I'm so angry with myself, because I'd sworn she wouldn't get to hurt me again, to leave me. I thought I'd made myself independent from her.

"Yes, Mrs Everdeen, we are living together. We've been living together since last fall." If Peeta's nervous, he's hiding it well. But judging from the way his knuckles are whitening as he's steading himself against the kitchen counter he is nervous. Perhaps even scared. He found out, after our return from the first Hunger Games, that my mother is a force not to be taken lightly when it comes to her daughter's relationships.

"Oh, that's… Quite a long time. Are you married?"

I think my heart stops for just one second.

"No." Peeta's voice is as steady as ever.

"Engaged?"

"No."

"Oh." My mom takes another sip of tea. I can't imagine that my mother lived with my father before they got married. I bet they didn't even kiss. Whereas Peeta and I have been doing it like rabbits for half a year.

There's a very awkward pause.

I have to say something. Say something, Katniss, anything.

"Thanks for the birth control shot."

OH NO, not that! Crapcrapcrap, what were you thinking, Katniss?

Peeta's choking on his muffin, he's coughing, spilling his cup of tea in the process. I just want to die. My mother, on the other hand, just lifts an eyebrow. I thought she was a bad actor, but why is she so calm now? Why doesn't she freak out? Did she expect to find us together after all? I just can't balance two very conflicting thoughts in my head: One that she seems to expect us to be married, the other that she made sure Haymitch gave me a contraceptive shot. So on the one hand she expected me to be married first, on the other she expects me to have premarital sex? This is getting too confusing, stop thinking about it, Katniss. Why did you bring this up?

"You're welcome. Do you need another?"

"I, uhm…" I think back. I do the math. It's been nearly a year.

Crap.

"I, uh… Yes, please."

I have no self-respect. None!

Was this why she came here?

Peeta had nearly gone back to normal before her second question, but now he seems to be choking on his scones again. He's blushing furiously now, and for once he's at a loss for words.

"Great. Please remind me to give one to you before I leave."

"Uhm… okay."

This must be the strangest conversation I've ever had with my mother.

"Mrs Everdeen, I'm…" Peeta, ever the gentleman, probably feels that he has to explain this to my mother. I'm dreading he'll just make it worse. No words can save this situation. "I'm… I love your daughter. I would never… take advantage of her." Oh yes, you do, Peeta. Pretty often several times a day. "I…" He doesn't know how to continue, he's blushing furiously. My mother is not stupid, I guess it's pretty obvious we're sleeping together and have done so for quite some time.

She pats his hand, then takes another sip of tea. "Don't worry, Peeta. I know you love her. And you are adults now. I didn't come here to interrogate you on the… intimacy of your relationship. I can tell, though, that your relationship has changed, in many ways."

She looks at me, and I know what she means. The last time she saw me, my relationship to Peeta was pretty much non-existent. We weren't talking, we weren't even in the same room. We were both burn victims, so unstable and scarred both inside and out that we were barely hanging on. The contrast to what she's meeting now, two adults living together, living what seems like a pretty normal life and having a real need for contraceptives, is immense. She knows he loved me once, fiercely, but that was in another life. My own feelings were much more complicated. She has had little reason to think that I love him. Does she think I'm the one taking advantage of him? I finally realize I should probably say something. "Yes, it… has." I don't know how to continue. Finally I just blurt it out, the truth for once: "I love him, mom."

I can tell this takes her by surprise. She looks at me for a long time, her blue eyes wide open. Then, suddenly, she breaks out in a huge grin. I haven't seen her smile like this since before my dad dies, and she even gives me a hug. I'm so stunned that the only thing I can do is return it. It's short, and a bit awkward, but it's still a hug. She smells of soap and sunshine and herbs, like she did when I was a child. I have to swallow to get rid of the lump in my throat.

She then gives Peeta a hug, too. "I guess I should welcome you into the family," she says, and it's all I can do not to laugh bitterly. That's quite a family. But I don't, after all, she's my mother, and I don't want to hurt her. At least not now. Sometimes I want to hurt her. I've said and done things in the past that I know have hurt her – it's been a long time since I really took her seriously. Sometimes, when I look at my mother, all I can remember is the hunger, eating up every single emotion in my life, everything that I was, reducing me to an animal-like creature desperate for food. And Prim's huge, blue, starving eyes. Knowing I couldn't protect her, knowing she was as hungry as me, was even worse than being hungry myself.

And all my mother did, was cry and retreat into her own world. She watched her children die of starvation, slowly, day by day we grew weaker. Yet she did nothing.

"Katniss?"

I must've lost track of the conversation for a minute, thinking about those dark days back when I was technically a child, but fighting for our survival as the only true adult in the household.

"I'll show your mother her room," Peeta says, I can tell from the way he looks at me that he understands what I was just thinking of wasn't good.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

We have dinner that night, and I'm shocked to find out that Peeta has invited Haymitch, too. Peeta and my mother whip up a fantastic dinner with the admittedly somewhat meagre contents of our fridge. Here's a secret that only people who have starved know: Squirrel goes with anything.

Haymitch and I sit by the table and watch the two of them cook. My mother and Peeta seem to get along really well. Hearing my mother laugh is almost surreal. Haymitch is drinking white liquor, but he's not overly drunk. He's even wearing nice clothes, at least a lot better than normal, and he's clearly had a bath and shaved. I secretly wonder if he has a crush on my mother, he's really been on his best behavior tonight.

We finish our meal of roasted squirrels with a fresh garden salat, herbs and walnuts. Peeta's whipped up a cake for desert, and I don't think I've had a meal as good as this in months. No one's brought up any sensitive topics, such as birth control or dead people.

But it had to happen sooner or later, I guess.

It all begins when my mother says to Haymitch: "Thanks for looking after them."

I snort. So much for "looking after us", he's been dead drunk and avoiding us most of the time - that is, when he hasn't been assaulting me with birth control shots or insulting my lack of sexual experience. Peeta gives me a warning look, but I just can't hold back: "Yeah, he's been a real helper." My voice is dripping with sarcasm.

Haymitch finishes his glass, and pours himself another drink. "Sweetheart…" he begins, but I cut him off.

"No, Haymitch, I'm not your "sweetheart". And I know you try, in that helpless, drunken way of yours, to help, and sometimes you even do. But don't take any credit for Peeta and me not killing ourselves or each other, because you don't deserve it. We've had to pick up the pieces of our ruined lives all on our own."

Implicitly, this includes my mother, too. And she knows it. "Katniss…" she begins, but I cut her off. I've had enough of all this sweet-talking, pretending everything is okay, playing happy little family.

"It's not enough to tell an alcoholic to give your daughter a birth control shot, I guess I should add your only surviving daughter, and think that your job is done, and then go off and disappear in another district. It's just not good enough. You know what the worst thing is? If Peeta and I were ever to have a baby, I wouldn't know the first thing what to do or how to behave, because I just don't know how a normal family works!"

I slam my glass on the table with a bang. The silence that follows is heavy and uncomfortable. Peeta looks down on his food, Haymitch finishes yet another glass of white liquor, and my mother just looks at me, with tears in her eyes.

I've shed enough tears, she won't make me cry again.

"I know, Katniss. And I'm sorry." Hearing my mother actually apologizing is a surprise. She's rarely willing to talk about our relationship at all. "I know I abandoned you when you were little, and your father died. I was there physically, but I abandoned you in spirit. All I wanted was to follow him." Damn, she's going to make me cry after all. Hearing my mother pretty much confess that her love for her two daughters wasn't enough to keep her alive is perhaps the most heartbreaking thing I've ever heard. "You are the only reason we survived, physically, and placing such a burden on the shoulders of a young girl isn't something a mother should do. Ever. I'm genuinely sorry and ashamed that I did that."

"Where are the cameras?" Haymitch mutter. "This is starting to sound like a Capitol reality show."

I shoot him an angry look, and he shuts up.

"I've tried to make up for it, but it was too late. You'd lost all respect for me, Katniss, and I don't blame you for it. You didn't need me, and you knew it. I couldn't make you trust me anymore, and I often felt that you thought that Prim was your only real family." Now, that's not far from the truth. Well, Prim and Gale. "It's not easy getting through to you, Katniss. You decide which people you like, and which people you don't like, and once you've made up your mind, you're almost impossible to sway. I'm not like you. I'm not a born survivor, like you. We've never seen eye to eye, but I've always loved you." Yeah, but not enough. "And after Prim died, after you and Peeta were both so horribly burned, I knew that there wasn't really anything I could do, because you didn't trust me. I couldn't bring you back, you had to find your own way. I also knew that you had to go back to District 12 to heal, but I couldn't live there, I just… couldn't. So yes, again I chose my own sanity over your well-being, but I didn't think you'd want me there. I asked Haymitch to look after you, which was perhaps not ideal, but it was the best I could do. He understands you and Peeta in a way that I can never hope to do. I had to let you go, cut you loose, and hope that you'd find your way back to the world of the living."

We are both crying now. "I did," I say, between heavy sobs.

"We did," Peeta corrects me, holding my hand.

"I know the birth control shot was overstepping the boundaries of your privacy, but I figured there was a real chance you would find back together, and that you two having a baby under these circumstances was probably the last thing you needed. So I gave it to Haymitch, asking him to give it to you if he thought you'd need it."

"And boy did the need it," Haymitch says, and I wonder if he sleeps with his bedroom window open. My mother chooses to ignore his comment, for which I'm grateful.

"I know I can never make up for what I did, but I came here because I really want to try to salvage what we can of our relationship. Whatever little is left. I love you, Katniss, but loving you is so hard. You shut me out, and I don't blame you for it. But if you're willing to try, I'll try, too."

Then she excuses herself, thanks Peeta for a lovely meal, leaves the table and walks upstairs to her room.

"Well, this has been enough fun for one night," Haymitch says, finishing his glass of liquor, he says goodbye and goes home.

Peeta and I do the dishes together in silence.

When we're in bed later that night, he just holds me, like he always does when I'm upset. He knows when to stay silent, it's one of the things I love about him.

Into the darkness, I say: "I think I'll try."

Peeta kisses my hair, I think he's smiling.