STOP. IT.

Get your horny little acts together and stop complaining because the story isn't perfect. I wouldn't be an author if I didn't include content that was even mildly upsetting. You should read some of the shit I've read…rape…multiple miscarriages… Could be a lot worse, knowing my type of horrid macabre entertainment preferences… I'm going easy on you.

Now I realize I'm being harsh, and I apologize, but if you don't like the turn my story is taking I'm not forcing you to read it… And I'm sorry if you think that I'm being mean now. I don't mean to be, I'm (relatively) not a mean person. But it's fictional, it's mine, and I'll do with it what I want. Come on, most of you saw this coming:P

If I may, I'd advise you to keep reading, because you may be surprised…

Read on, the choice is yours.

Peeta was speechless. Then again so was I, but that only lasted a few seconds before I was speaking. Well, attempting to.

"How-you…the child…?" I point to him, starting to wake up and opening his eyes groggily, glancing at the three new people who were all focused intently on him. He turns and places his head back on his mothers shoulder, closing his eyes again, not ready to wake up. He seemed uninterested in us, as if he had no idea who we were. Then again, we don't know who he is either. Not confirmed at least.

"I guess I have a lot of explaining to do," she says to us both, and Haymitch takes this as an opportunity to bolt.

He raises his eyebrows and waves, saying, "Lemme know how things go for you honey." Then he's gone. I glance over at Peeta, and there are tears forming in his eyes.

"Did…," he says, voice gone, "is…is he…" he clears his throat, trying to breathe evenly.

"I honestly don't know…" She looks so apologetic, but really, who else's could he be? I saw those eyes. They were the wrong shade of blue, but they were still blue. "I came here for several reasons," she continues. "But I did my research. I know who you are, about the Hunger Games, and that you're married. I didn't come here looking for a father for my child," she says, tightening he arms around the precious thing, almost protectively. Something released inside of me and I was able to breathe calmly again, thankful this woman wasn't going to be a threat to us.

"Sit down. Tea?" I ask, wondering exactly how lavish her life must be. Was she poor, like I was used to be my whole life, or was she well provided for living in the capital?

"I'd like that," she murmurs in response, taking her seat on the couch. The one Peeta and I had just made love on, and I realize exactly how quickly the scenery had changed. Only moments ago we were still intertwined, and now the biggest game changer I could've imagined just walked through the door, obviously about to turn our lives upside down.

"Here," I hand her the tea and sit down next to her, keeping a reasonable distance. Peeta sits on the love chair across from us; hands clasped tightly together, eyes locked on the child in awe.

The woman began to speak, noticing our discomfort and curiosity. "When I first became a sex slave in the capital, it wasn't by choice." She takes a sip of her tea. "They took me from my home while my parents were out, stripped me down and threw me in a room with a strange man." She stops and glances at him. He rubs his face. "Only now do I realize he was a victim too."

"I'm so sorry," he whispers. "I thought you were a caller, I just did as I was originally told," he says, rubbing his face more, trying to comprehend that this was all really happening. I tried so hard to keep that pricked my eyes from spilling over.

"It was all a sick game to them," she says, tears welling up in her eyes. "My virginity meant nothing to them, it was just a new show, something to spice their lives up for a little while," she mutters, kissing the child's hair before returning to her story.

"I'm sorry if you don't know who I am," she whispers to me.

"I do," is all I say, nodding, and standing to sit next to Peeta, to take his hand. He needed comfort, because in this moment I could feel his pain from all the way over here. He squeezed my fingers, the woman continued.

"My name is Ira, and this is Sumpter… I like to think he's yours, because he looks like you and you were the only man who showed me one ounce of respect since I was brought into that hellhole, but I still have no way to be sure. There were plenty of blue eyed blond haired men," she says, voice dropping, a few tears falling from her cheeks. The child still remained still, probably asleep once more.

"Why have you come, after these years, why now?" Peeta questions, looking between us both.

"I had nowhere else to go… As soon as I had Sumpter I was released, no longer an asset with such a physical change and another human to care for." She closes her eyes and runs her fingers through Supmter's hair, "My family had disappeared. I tried living on my own, but life was hard. I had nobody, the capital saw to that. I thought of trying to find you, since you were the only other person in this world who I had seen decency from, respect," she pauses, and gives me a small smile, "Katniss, I mean no harm to your marriage," and I know how awful her life must've been. I know because they did this to Peeta too, and god knows how many others. Their destinies just ended up intertwining somehow, and I wasn't about to deny her help.

"Don't be so apologetic," I tell her, "we'll get to the bottom of this." Though I'm not exactly quite sure what I was talking about, I made it clear that she wasn't going to be alone forever. She smiles gratefully at us both, and Peeta smiles too, and the tears fall down his cheeks, powerful emotion erupting. I know he was hoping it wasn't his for the sake of this love we share, but I knew he was also hoping it was his because it would be worse it was another mans, a heartless man.

"You're welcome to stay here until you can get on your feet," Peeta says warmly, standing up and taking her hand. Then he touches Sumpter for a moment, looking at him, almost as if he would know if he was his just by looking. "Will you agree to a paternity test?" Peeta says after a moment.

Ira takes a deep breath and nods, "of course I will. It's time the world knew," she says quietly. Peeta thanks her, and stands up, putting his jacket back on.

"Unfortunately, work calls, but I promise I'll only be gone no longer than ten minutes," he says to us. Still, leaving us both alone like this… I can only imagine how he must feel. So he says, "Would…either of you…like to join me?"

"No…I think I'll stay here," I say, assuring, "I'll get to know Ira better." I stand and kiss his cheeks, trying to let him know things are going to be okay. He nods, and leaves in a rush.

"So, how's that tea?" I question as I turn around, knowing I've never been a social person. I wasn't friendly in the least bit, and I know I came off as bitchy to people who hardly knew me, but I needed to try hard with this woman. Of all the people I've met who have suffered, her story was crucial to Peetas life, therefore crucial to my life too.

"Great, it's really…authentic," she grins, wiping away her tears in an attempt to cheer up.

"It's my mother's recipe, completely original," I tell her.

"Mommy…," Sumpter mumbles rubbing his eyes and starting to come back to reality, very slowly. His little face was so precious, his little button nose and pink lips. My heart felt tight, and I knew I recognized those eyes. I just hoped, and prayed to myself, that it was a coincidence.

"Yes baby?" she says softly, pulling back to look down at him.

"Did we find daddy?" he says, and even though he was still just a baby, I can only imagine how much pain he's experienced in his short life. I covered my mouth to keep from overreacting, but this was terrible. It was just so sad.

"Not sure yet," she chuckles nervously, "but Katniss and Peeta are going to help okay?" she gestures to me and he looks at me shyly, hiding in his moms shoulder after taking a look at me.

"How old is he?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"Three. Just turned a week ago," she says happily, taking the hint that it wasn't time to cry anymore. He was awake now, and for his sake we needed to remain optimistic.

"Wow," I say in astonishment. Then something occurs to me, and I regret not thinking it over before I said it. "May I ask how old you were…when you and Peeta…met?" I ask, mentally slapping myself afterward. To my surprise she laughed, almost like it was a bad joke, but I could see the hatred in her eyes, for the capital of course.

"Sixteen," she answers, "I was small for my age. Still am I guess," she says, and I feel like the ice-breaking process was going smoothly.

"I'm glad you weren't as young as most would've assumed," I tell her honestly.

"Yeah I guess. Still, nobody wants to have a kid at that age," she shrugs, like it was too late to complain about it now. "Then again, if I didn't, where would I be? Sumpter is my life, nothing would be the same," she murmurs, quieter.

"Are you tired?" I ask, noticing the bags under her eyes.

She nods guiltily, "It was a long trip," she admits.

"Well you're welcome to get some rest; we have a guest bedroom big enough for the both of you, but insist you join us for dinner." And I have to admit to myself, this would be the first time Peeta and I would eat dinner with anyone else, and man would that be awkward. But what was I supposed to do? Keep her confined in her room?

"Oh I couldn't possibly," she holds her hand up.

"Do you have somewhere else to be? Transportation departing at a specific time?" She looks down and remains silent, and this goes on for several moments before she replies quietly, refusing to meet my gaze.

"No."

"Then you'll stay here," I tell her, standing up and motioning for her to follow me. I lead her to the room at the end of the staircase, down the hallway we never went down. The room was simplistic, twin sized bed with two bedside tables and a few different sized dressers. Typical guest bedroom.

"I can't thank you enough," Ira says, and I realize now exactly how tired she must be.

"Dinner will be in a few hours," I give her a warm smile before leaving back to the living room to process what just happened.

"Where is she?" Peeta asks as he comes back through the door, hanging his coat on the hook and taking my hand. "I don't know what to say…"

"She's getting some sleep in the guest bedroom, and we'll get her when it's time for dinner."

"Katniss," he starts.

"Don't apologize for anything. Even if Sumpter isn't yours we're still going to help her, because as of now we're all she has in the world."

He nods, "I hope you know what kind of opportunity this is for you."

"What do you mean?" I question.

"I mean Sumpter. Better get good practice in, because we'll have one of our own soon."