A/N: I had intended to get this chapter up days ago, but I've been ridiculously busy at home and at work. It's not my best work, but I owe it to you all to have something up. Also, I'm thinking about writing some side stories to run with this one. One being how Peeta ended up hiring Rory and another, possibly, about Katniss's suicide attempt. There are several ideas I have that I want to get out, but do not need to be in this story itself. Let me know what you guys would like. As always, reviews=quicker update.

This chapter is dedicated to my brother, who reminds me every day how lucky I am to still have him around. Life's too short to be bitter, so eat a strawberry. (Inside joke)

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, its characters, or places. Just a PC and an overactive imagination.

Chapter 6 – Forgiveness

Weep for yourself, my man,
You'll never be what is in your heart
Weep Little Lion Man
You're not as brave as you were at the start
Rate yourself and rake yourself
Take all the courage you have left
Wasted on fixing all the problems
That you made in your own head

But it was not your fault but mine
And it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
Didn't I my dear?

"Little Lion Man" Mumford and Sons

My intent was to spend the weekend alone with Peeta at the lake, but neither of us could spend another day without Juliet and Aden. Peeta especially. When we woke Saturday morning, all he could do was talk about the kids, asking what I thought they were doing, and fussing over what Haymitch was feeding them. He was made to be a father. He was ready for kids when I was still struggling to adjust to being married. As scared as I was about bringing new life into this old, broken world, I wanted to make Peeta happy. I wanted to do something for him after everything he had done for me. Being a father was second nature to him and being away from the kids for too long just wasn't something he could do.

So Saturday morning after breakfast and a swim, we headed back home. It was a good thing we came home when we did. Haymitch was a sucker when it came to the kids. He let them do, eat, and say what they want. They were as free as his birds. Our old mentor's home was turned upside down. There were cookie crumbs, crayons, and what I pray is juice all over his kitchen and living room. Aden was passed out in just his shorts on the couch with a juice box in one hand and a candy bar in the other. Juliet was sprawled out lazily on a play mat watching cartoons on the television set. In one day, my babies had turned into couch potatoes. I had Peeta gather the kids as I grabbed their bags from the spare bedroom they slept in as Haymitch ignored the fact I was pissed at him.

"I don't see what the big fuss is all about," Haymitch mumbled as he plopped into his recliner we got him three years ago. "They're kids. They should be having fun."

"They have fun at home, Haymitch," Peeta sighs as he shuts the TV off and waits for Juliet to move.

"Oh yea, because you two are such party animals. Bake bread, kill squirrels. Every kids' dream."

"Don't you patronize us Haymitch Abernathy," I scold as I help Juliet to her feet. "You act as if what you do all day is at all acceptable."

"I'm just an old drunk to you two," he grumbles. "If you disapprove so much, don't leave them with me anymore."

"Oh don't act like you won't miss them," Peeta chuckles. He adjusts Aden on his shoulder and pats Haymitch on his. "We'll see you on Monday for dinner."

We head for the door as Haymitch yells, "I won't go!"

"Yes, you will," I call back to him. "You'll be there. You always are."

As much as Haymitch complains about us and threatens not to speak to us ever again, we know he cares. After his family was slaughtered by the Capitol, he has had no one to care for him or help him through the darkness that came with winning the Games. Not until Peeta and I came along. He had a family again. As screwed up and broken as we were, he had us. When the kids came along, his outlook on life improved even more. He actually smiled. He laughed at actual jokes and not crude comments. He even drank a little less. Not much less, but less all the same. He had a reason to be sober again. Haymitch also knew that we didn't want that type of behavior around the kids. He didn't want to miss a moment in Juliet or Aden's lives, so he gave in a little.

Peeta, the kids, and I spent the rest of the weekend at home. On Sunday, Juliet went with Peeta into town like they did every week. They would stop by the bakery where she would make cookies, cupcakes, or muffins to bring home to me and her brother. Sundays were meant for Peeta and Juliet and for me and Aden. On Sundays, Aden and I walk to the meadow. He would place the fistful of dandelions he brings on top of the grave markers for Madge and Peeta's family. He always brought a special flower with him for a very special person - a primrose from the bushes along the side of the house for Prim. He would kiss the flower before he put it down for his aunt he would never know.

His feet come down just as noisily as his father's, scaring away any and every animal within ear shot. He's so much like Peeta it's crazy, but when he opens his mouth and sings I know he is mine. The four of us meet back at the house midafternoon and cook dinner as a family. Aden excitedly runs to Peeta and insists that he help with the bread and dessert for dinner. Juliet joins my side, washing vegetables and getting things from the cupboard to season whatever meat I decide to cook.

"We saw the Peacekeeper man again, Momma," Juliet says suddenly.

I look over at Peeta who seems to be even more intrigued with the ball of dough on the counter now. "Did you baby girl?" I ask calmly. "Did you talk to him?"

"Nope," she sighs. "Poppa talked lots though."

"And what did Poppa say?"

"Poppa said he wanted him to come see him tomorrow and he is going to talk to Uncle Rory about being a…um…" She makes a face and leans over toward me. "Poppa said a bad word."

"Tattle-tale," Peeta teases.

"Is Daddy in trouble Momma?" Aden asks as he continues to knead the dough.

"Big trouble!" I say dramatically. I fake a mad face and point a finger at Peeta. "Daddy, no dessert for you and you're cleaning up the kitchen tonight."

He's trying his best not to laugh out loud. He pushes his bottom lip out and pretends to pout. I just laugh and toss a piece of carrot at him. "Momma! No throwing food!" Aden said with his chubby little hands on his hips. He looks so much like Peeta right now I can't help but smile.

"I'm sorry my angel. Momma promises not to do it again." Aden seems to have accepted this because he hops around in a circle a few times before turning his attention back to the dough.

I return to my task as well. I decide to let the Gale issue slide for now. I can't remember a time when Peeta and Gale were truly alone together. I have a feeling that there was a reason for that. Not just because they had both loved me, but because they were so different and so much alike. Anyone that didn't think Peeta could have a temper was fooling themselves. Once dinner was ready, I watched Juliet set up the plates. She was very precise in everything she did. She took everything into detail, creating masterpieces with food. She has an eye for beauty in the smallest things. In this way, she is exactly like Peeta.

During dinner, the kids are trying to talk louder than the other as usual. They both want the parent they did not spend the day with to know every little detail of what happened when they were apart. Peeta looks up at me from across the table and just smiles. It's these little moments that he craves. I wonder if this is what his life was like when he was a child. Although, it's hard to imagine that his mother was a very patient woman. Whenever we talk about his family, Peeta doesn't talk much about his mother. It was clear that she played favorites with her sons and Peeta wasn't that. She had a lack of faith in him and didn't think much of him at all. Even though my mother was distant and practically dead to the world for a long time, I still knew she loved me. She told me once she knew I would come home from the Games. She knew I would win. For Prim if nothing else.

Peeta's mother's lack of faith and affection toward her youngest son only made Peeta strive to be the best father he could. He wanted to be like his father; loving, thoughtful, and supportive. Watching the way Juliet and Aden strive to make Peeta proud only proves he is every bit of the father he misses dearly and then some. He is an amazing father and an even more amazing man. I wouldn't have had these little angels if it weren't for the man sitting across the table from me. I probably wouldn't even be alive if it weren't for him. Scratch that. I know I wouldn't be.

After dinner, Peeta cleans the kitchen while I have the difficult task of getting the kids ready for bed. I have to commend Peeta for his patience. He has always been able to stay cool, calm, and collected when he puts the kids to bed. He never loses his temper or feels overwhelmed. In fact, I've caught him a few times in the kids' room running around with them and playing games. He's always been the "fun" parent. I was the one that worried about every little thing. I thought things were too dangerous and too risky for my kids to do. I wasn't very fun at all.

I make it back to the bedroom before Peeta. He's very detailed about how he cleans. Sometimes I think he has OCD, but in reality, he gets it from working in a bakery all his life and living by certain standards when it comes to the kitchen. I look up when I hear the bedroom door open and my husband walks in. I can tell he is tired, but he doesn't show it. He gives me a quick smile before retreating to the bathroom to wash up and get ready for bed. When he emerges, he is in his boxers and a plain white t-shirt, a lazy smile playing on his lips. He crawls into the bed and rests his head in my lap. I run my fingers through his golden locks. We're silent, just enjoying the other's company. I love when we do this. I feel so close to him, making a sound feels like a crime.

Peeta rolls onto his back so he faces the ceiling and looks up at me. "I missed you today," he says suddenly. "As much as I love having Sundays just for Juliet, I can't wait to go home to you and Aden."

"I know how you feel," I tell him as I continue to stroke his hair. "For two hours, all Aden talks about is how much he loves spending time with you and what he does with you when he goes to the bakery to help his Daddy. We go home early sometimes hoping you and Juliet will do the same."

Peeta just chuckles. When Aden was born, Juliet started to feel left out. Mommy and Daddy suddenly had this pink little person they fussed over constantly. Every Sunday, Peeta decided he would take our daughter out and spend the whole day with her. They did anything she wanted, which usually was going to the bakery to make special cookies for me. When Aden was able to understand that Daddy and sister were having a special day together, Sundays also became about me and him. I loved my Sundays with my son, but I love when we're a complete family more.

"I saw Gale today," Peeta says suddenly.

"So I've heard," I say somewhat teasingly. "You didn't go to see him did you?"

He shook his head. "No, this was pure coincidence. Juliet wanted to get some flowers and ran into him in the square. He's staying at the hotel over there. God knows Rory would have a shit fit if he stayed at the house. You know, Rory can be very mature and every bit of an adult any of us are. But then there are times when he's just a big baby. Gale and I may not be friends, but he shouldn't be so hard on the guy."

I can tell Peeta is very bothered by the fact that Rory refuses to even consider forgiving Gale. Honestly, I'm not even sure why Rory holds so much anger toward his brother. Peeta, who had two older brothers, chokes up when he talks about his long gone brothers. Even after one of them just stood by and watched as their baby brother was reaped and hurled into the Hunger Games when he could have easily taken his place. Even then Peeta remained faithful to them. Peeta loved his brothers and he still does. There's a picture of the three Mellark brothers in his office at the bakery beside a picture of Juliet and Aden. This is one of the many ways he is stronger than me. He surrounds himself with memories of those he has lost and loved. I, on the other hand, can barely look at the bushes he planted on the side of my house fifteen years ago without tearing up.

"I told Gale I'd talk to him," Peeta says, breaking the silence.

"Why are you being so nice to him?" I ask. I didn't mean it to sound accusatory, but I know that's how it sounded. Though, I do wonder if there is an ulterior motive at play.

I watched Peeta as he thought carefully about my question. I think part of him wonders the same thing. "He's important. Maybe not to me, but to Rory, the rest of the Hawthornes…you."

"He's not important to me."

He laughs at my statement. "Yes he is. You can deny it, but he is." He sits up and brushes his lips against mine. "You loved him once. You two were best friends and closer than many people ever dream to be with another person. That kind of bond never goes away."

"I love you," I whisper.

"And I love you," he smiles. "But that doesn't mean Gale can't be important to you too." He kisses me again before pulling his legs onto the bed. "Come on," he says as he lowers into the sheets, "we've got a big day tomorrow."

He switches off the light on his nightstand and settles into the bed, his eyes closing as he slips into a deep slumber. I lay beside him, praying that sleep with come for me too. But Peeta's words echo in my mind. He was right. Gale and I did…do share a special bond. What that bond is, I'm not sure anymore. Peeta wants me to find out, that is for sure. He wants me to forgive Gale like he so easily and openly as he did. There really isn't anything to forgive. I haven't made much attempt to contact him over the years. Just once, before Peeta and I got married. I never told Peeta since it seemed pointless, especially because I had gotten no response. I look over at my husband sleeping soundly beside me. He has done so much for me in the years we have known each other. He doesn't ask much of me and what he asks isn't even for him. It's for Gale, who he doesn't even like. Does his selflessness ever cease? Probably not. Then he wouldn't be Peeta.

I close my eyes, willing sleep to come again. I'll need all the rest I can get if I am to see Gale again.

When morning comes, I wake to find the spot beside me empty. I'm surprised Peeta sisn't wake me before heading to work. I'm actually kind of disappointed. I drag myself out of bed and get ready for the day. When I head down the hall to Juliet and Aden's room, I'm in for another surprise. The room is clean and the kids are gone. I find a note on the fridge informing me that Peeta took the liberty of walking Juliet to school and taking our son to work with him today, claiming that he needed some quality time with his three-year-old double. I have to roll my eyes. He swears that he doesn't get enough time alone with Aden. The two look and act so much alike sometimes, I wonder if Peeta had really been the one to give birth to the solid mass of boy.

I know what this is really about. "You better not regret this, Peeta Mellark," I say aloud.

As I'm heading out the door, I'm surprised to see someone on the other side. "Gale?" I say, shocked to see him at my door.

"Oh, sorry," he says, pulling his hand back. It looked as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to knock or ring the bell. I think he even considered turning around and leaving. "I wasn't sure if anyone was home."

"I was, um, just about to leave."

"Oh. I can let you go. I was just…"

"Did Peeta send you?" I ask, interrupting him as the thought occurs to me. "He promised me he was going to let it be. I can't believe him!"

Gale's holding his hands up now and shaking his head. "No, no, no," he spouts quickly. "He didn't send me." He cleared his throat and looks away for a moment. He actually looks uncomfortable. "I actually came to, uh, see…him."

I literally have to take a step back because Gale's confession catches me off guard. Gale coming to see Peeta? Now that is something I never thought I would see happen. "You're here to see Peeta?" Gale nods. "You, Gale Hawthorne, are here to see…Peeta." He raises a brow and nods again slowly. "Peeta Mellark, my husband Peeta Mellark."

"Ok, I really don't know how many times I have to tell you yes. He's the only Peeta I know. I think he's the only 'Peeta' anyone knows."

"Why?" I ask, ignoring his joke.

"Because," he sighs, "he made me an offer yesterday and I wanted to take him up on it."

"What kind of offer?"

Gale looks down at his feet. "He, um, he said he would…" He has to stop and take a deep breath. This must be really hard on him. I know he feels the same way as I do when it comes to favors and owing people. And owing Peeta was like making a deal with Lucifer himself to my childhood best friend. Whatever Peeta promised him must have been big. "He said he'd help me out with something."

I just nod, deciding not to push. If or when he wants me to know, he'll tell me in his own time. "He left for work already," I inform him. I'm about to tell him he should stop by the bakery, but I remember that Rory is working and decide against it. "I can let him know you stopped by."

"I'd appreciate that," Gale smiles. "Well, I guess I'll be on my way." He awkwardly takes a step back and turns on his heel to leave.

He's about to head down the porch steps when I hear myself saying, "Do you want to come inside?"

I'm torn between regret and hope when he turns around, staring at me with his gray eyes. Letting him into the home I share with Peeta and our family almost feels wrong. It's as if it is forbidden territory. But Peeta wants me to bury whatever hatchet is between Gale and me. He wants peace. I want peace. I want my friend back. As much as I miss them, I can't have Madge, Finnick, Rue, or Prim back. They are long gone to a place I cannot yet follow. But Gale is here and alive. I can have him back if we try.

"Sure," Gale says, unsure of his answer.

I step aside from the doorframe, allowing him to cross the threshold. I know that there is no turning back now. I hope Peeta knows what he is doing and what he is asking for because I have a feeling he may not like the outcome.