WE HAVE EACH OTHER

Rating: T for a minor suggestion of a sexual situation.

Trigger warnings and/or spoilers: Description of nightmares, PTSD.

Written for "The Everlark Games" by fyeah-everlark, Round 1 Battle 6. With huge thanks to the lovely titania522 for her beta work and her kindness. You're awesome, girl!

She can't pinpoint exactly what stirs the thought.

Maybe it's the kids playing on the corner by the bakery. Maybe it's Sae's great-grandson kicking around a ball through Victor's Village when she comes for a visit, or the little girl at the fair giggling as her parents swing her back and forth on their arms.

Maybe it's how the air seems lighter with kids' laughter when a couple of them come to play with Haymitch's geese before he shoos them away. She feels that thing again, that thing she's been feeling so often for the past fifteen years, that happiness is something palpable and real and good. And when the silver eyes of her mentor meet her own and a smirk lifts up the corner of his lips, she realizes he sees it in her. As always, he knows her too well.

But she doesn't tell Peeta right away. She has to be sure of this. It can't be a quick impulsive decision she has at the moment. It has to be tasted, mulled over bit by bit, again and again, until she's sure. Because besides the warmth that grows deep in her belly every Saturday when a little blond boy that remembers her so much of Peeta smears cupcake frosting all over his face, she still feels scared.

One night, when she has her mind set on talking to Peeta the following day, she has a nightmare with Snow's poisonous fangs sinking down on her stomach, taking the life of her would-be-child away, as Coin plays videos of Prim's death repeatedly, telling her every mean thing she would do to her children if she ever decided to breed again. She wakes up screaming, and Peeta is there, kissing her, telling her everything will be okay. However, she doesn't recover from this nightmare easily. It stays with her throughout that morning, and the remainder of the day, and the entire following week.

She changes her mind. Of course she does! Who would want to raise a child in a world so full of hatred? Who would want to raise a child in a world where the Hunger Games existed, where humans are so unpredictable, when there was a time death and misery overcame peace? She doesn't.

Then about a month later, a letter from Annie arrives with two pictures. The first one is an image of little baby Finn wrapped up in a blanket, probably still born, yawning. The other is him now, full grown up on his sixteen years old and much taller than Annie, sitting on her lap and hugging her with a bright smile on his face, looking so much like Finnick that Katniss's eyes water. In the letter, Annie describes how crazy of a journey has been watching her son grew up, how much he reminds him of her husband, how much she's grateful for this last piece of happiness Finnick brought to her world before passing away. And she vows to visit soon.

It's like the words are made just for Katniss. Because if Annie, the poor mad girl from District 4, who has lost the love of her life in the war, was able to make it, why couldn't Katniss? She has Peeta, sweet and kind Peeta who would never force her to have children despite desiring them himself, right there, beside her, ready to take on the duty together… All the problems seem so small in comparison.

At night, he's lying on their bed, shirtless, a book in hand, when she tells him point-blank.

"I want to have a baby."

Peeta stares at her, the book tumbling onto the floor, his face one of shocked amusement.

"With me?" he mumbles, awestruck.

Katniss roll her eyes. "Do you see another hot baker whose been married to me for the last fifteen years around here?"

His mouth still hangs open and he rearranges himself in bed before replying to her. "I'm sorry. You just- you caught me off guard."

"I know."

"And I mean… After all this time, all the talks we had, I thought you would never-"

"I know," she says guiltily, her eyebrows picking up, her lips quivering.

"How did you? I mean- what changed your mind?" he asks.

She comes closer, picking up the book from the ground and putting it on the bedside table. She sits on the edge of the bed, her thighs brushing his slightly.

"I think… there's no reason not to," she muses, playing with the hem of her nightgown. "I'm still scared, I think I'll never not be, but I want it. And, you've always wanted them so much."

"Katniss," he whispers softly, and his hand goes up to cup her face and make her look at him. "Yes, I've always wanted them. But, I know how you feel and I'd never feel comfortable knowing that I somehow pressured you into-"

She shakes her head, cutting him off, "It's not only about that. Of course I want them because of you, too… But mostly I want them for me, for both of us. Sometimes I feel like this house is too empty with just the two of us here. And, I don't know, a kid... Maybe it would bring some much needed joy around here, don't you think?"

He smiles at her, his hand going back to the nape of her neck. "I think I'm already perfectly happy here with my wife," he says, and she scowls a little, her signature expression, before Peeta takes the frown away with a kiss to her forehead. "And nothing would make me happier than to have a child with her."

"Really?" Katniss asks, a smile spreading on her lips. "So you think we should try?"

"Yes, we should definitely try," he states, leaning in to press his lips against hers. "Actually, I think we should try right now."

And as Peeta pulls her to his lap, kissing all the places his lips can find – her jaw, nose, cheekbone, chin, neck, throat, eyelids – and sending her into a fit of giggles that grows into hunger when their mouths connect, she's sure she made the right decision.

She wants to surprise him, so she seals the kitchen drawer shut and begins to make dinner.

Usually, she waits for him to start it, but not today. Today she's doing it all by herself. She didn't have any time to catch fresh game, having to settle with buying butcher meat in town. It hurts her ego a little bit, so she decides to do everything she can to make up for it. She cuts the meat in small cubs and mix the spices. Then, she chops carrots and potatoes while the onion and garlic braise. After, she adds it all to the pot along with two cups of water, putting the lid over it so it cooks.

Haymitch isn't coming tonight. She warned him not to, or it would be his meat on the pot, and even if he's not that afraid of her, he knows better than to get on her bad side. She sets the table for two. Even catches a flower from the side of their house and puts it in a jar with some water to garnish the table. Because even though it still hurts she wants a part of her family to be present on this moment, and she feels particularly good today that it doesn't get her down, but rather lifts her spirit. After all, her family is growing.

After six months of trying and failing, they have given up. It wasn't supposed to be, not in that moment, so they stopped trying so much. It was hard seeing the expectation dying in Peeta's eyes and how he blamed himself, thought that he wasn't doing enough, that he wasn't enough. But, like everything else, they got through it together.

When she woke up sick in the middle of the week, she thought it was probably something she ate at Sae's the other night. Thursday it happened again, though, and she was annoyed, because she couldn't possibly be getting the flu in the middle of spring. But no other symptoms came along, so maybe it was just her body getting rid of all the greasy and heavy food from Sae's. When Friday rolled up and her sickness woke her up again, and an unusual fatigue kept her in bed, she was sure something was wrong. Peeta offered to stay with her, to walk her to the hospital, but he had things to do and a business to run, so she shooed him away with promises of getting some rest and not exhaust herself too much.

Earlier today, she made up her mind about going to the hospital. After her morning routine of puking, showering and brushing her teeth, she put on her clothes and walked over to the hospital with nothing but a troubled stomach. She got back with an envelope on her hands and a big smile on her face.

It was hard not to run into the bakery right away to tell Peeta, but she decided to savor this little moment and make it special. Peeta deserves it. They both do.

In the time it takes to cook the stew, she showers and get dressed. She goes for a light orange sundress that is similar to Peeta's favorite color and braids her hair, trying to make it look as if it's just another casual dinner at their house. She's back to the kitchen tasting the broth when she hears Peeta shutting the front door closed.

"Hey," she greets, looking over her shoulder to get a glimpse of him. He walks inside the kitchen carrying a bag with the bakery stamp on it and his white t-shirt clinging to him with sweat makes Katniss's stomach revolve in a different way than the sickness does.

"Hey, beautiful," he says, a smile on his face. He drops the bag on the table and nods appreciatively as he takes in the dinner for two set, and then again, when he notices her dress. "Uh, did I forget a special date or something?" He asks, wrapping her arms around her and peeking over her shoulder to see what she's making.

She shakes her head and takes in a breath before lying to him, "No. I just felt better and thought we should have a nice dinner together."

"Hmmmm," he mumbles as he drops a kiss to her forehead and then takes her lips on his. "I like this idea. And also, this dress." His hands come down to pull the hem up, but she stops him, her hands going over his.

"Hold on, tiger," she whispers, brushing her lips against his. "Dinner first."

His face falls, just a little bit, and then he's running his nose on the side of her neck. "Then you need to give me something to do."

"Okay," she sighs, trying to think back to her plan before he distracts her further. "Huh, I think I didn't finish setting the table up. Could you do that for me?"

"Sure" he agrees, kissing her cheek before letting go of her.

She tries to act nonchalant while he moves around the kitchen, like she's not paying attention to what he's doing. He grabs a basket from the cabinet and drops the breads from the bakery bag in it, putting it on the table. Then, he looks over it, until something clicks in his mind and he goes for the kitchen drawer, searching for the silverware Katniss purposely forgot to get. She sucks in a breath and turns the stove off when he opens it, the white envelope falling on his hands.

"What's this?" he asks and she hopes he's convinced by the uninterested look she shoots him.

"Ah, yeah," she muses, like she's just now remembering something. "I went to the hospital and they did a blood test in me to check for any infections. I forgot to open it because I got better with the meds they gave me."

He clicks his tongue at her. "What if you have something serious?"

She rolls her eyes and cleans her hands on her apron. "By all means, you can open it."

And that's exactly what he does, passing his finger through the seal to get the envelope open, pulling the paper out to look at it. He holds it in his hand, and then he freezes, his breath hitching. Katniss looks at him expectantly, waiting for a reaction, but it doesn't come. For a long time, he just looks at the exam, his eyes absorbing every line.

Then he looks at her. "Katniss, what is this?"

"What?" She tries to play dumb, but the word breaks in her throat, full of emotion when she sees his blue eyes brightened with fresh tears.

"You ar- you are pregnant?" He asks, his eyes dancing from her to the test in his hands, his hands trembling slightly. "We are going to have a baby?"

She nods her head and bites her lip. "I'm six and a half weeks in."

A second later, she's spinning around, lifted by his strong arms. His laugh reverberates in her ears, through her chest, and all around her. She laughs too, holding onto him tightly, her hands caressing the curls on the nape of his neck as they come to a stop. He pulls away just enough to hold her face in his hands and assault her lips with his, kissing her eagerly, over and over again.

"I love you so much," he whispers. And then he's on his knees, dropping kisses over his stomach, his hands roaming all over her belly. "And I love you so much."

She giggles, feeling ticklish, and urges him to stand. He wraps his arms around her again once he is on his feet, and she holds him in a tight embrace.

"We are going to have a baby," he whispers in her hair and she looks up, trying to see him despite the tears in her eyes.

"Yes, we are."

"Katniss, I'm going to spoil that child so damn much," he admits and she laughs, because of course he will. "You'll have to keep watch of me so I don't turn him or her into a little brat."

She smiles and leans in to drop a soft kiss on his lips. "Done. As long as you keep me from being too rough with him. Or her."

"You won't," he states, bumping his nose with hers. "You already love the hell out of him, I can tell."

She beams. Because he's right.

When she hears the sharp cry of her child, freshly brought to life by her, she thinks that it's the most terrifying feeling in the world. Loving someone so fiercely that your lungs constrict, your heart beats faster against your ribcage, your whole body trembles? It's paralyzing.

"Katniss, it's a girl!" Peeta announces between sobs while he helps the midwife cleaning the baby with a cloth.

Katniss hands lunges forward, wanting to hold her as if she needs to do it to survive, but she can't yet. She watches, scared that she won't get to have her in her arms before it all fades like a dream. "Peeta, tell me about her," she asks. "Is she okay?"

"She- she's fine," he whimpers, looking back at his wife, his eyes glistening with tears. "She's perfect."

She sits up straighter in bed, trying to look over both of their shoulders to see her. They are wrapping her around a blanket now and she catches a glimpse of her, a bunch of dark hair and a wrinkled forehead, before the midwife's arm hides her from her eyes.

"Peeta, she has so much hair!" She exclaims, and Peeta nods at her while he secures the little package that is their daughter in his arms. He comes around the bed and she holds her arms out, impatiently urging him to go faster. "Give her to me!"

Then she's in her arms. She counts the fingers on her hands, then her toes. Ten perfect little toes, ten perfect little fingers. She skims her hands all around her legs, her arms, her belly, her creased brow, her locks of hair, her tiny nose, her little ears. She's all perfect. The joy that takes over her calms her heart, stills her body, makes her breath clear again.

The baby's wail now has stopped and her eyes are closed as she snuggles in her mother's warmth. Katniss starts to analyze her, eager to discover more things about this little human they brought to the world.

"She has your nose," Peeta says appreciatively and Katniss looks up at him, finding the eyes she always loved, and smiles, knowing how happy he is. "She's all you."

"She's so beautiful," she says to him and he leans in to kiss her.

"Thank you," he whispers, and she doesn't ask why. Because she knows. She knows she's thanking him for everything.

What a fool. She should be the one thanking him. She does by leaning into another kiss.

Then she looks back to her daughter and is surprised to find the blue eyes of her husband in her. She didn't think it was possible, but she loves her even more now.

"She has your eyes!" she blurts out, consumed with emotion. "And your eyelashes," she adds, seeing how long they are, brushing against her cheeks when she closes her eyes again. She already knows she'll become fixated with them, just as she's become fixated with her father's.

Peeta sits on the edge of the bed and rests his chin on her arm, his hand going around their baby girl, and Katniss links her fingers with his. "She's ours, Peeta," she whispers, not looking away from her daughter. "We made her."

He kisses her temple and parrots her words, "We made her."

As the afternoon fades, they stay together, discovering little things about their daughter, appreciating every move she makes, sharing their impressions of her. Peeta murmurs words of love in her Katniss's ear, of forever, of always. And she know she never felt this happy.

After dinner, they are all wrapped around each other in the comfort of their couch. Katniss has her head rested on Peeta's shoulder and he holds the one-month and half old baby boy in his arms. The little girl is draped all over Katniss's lap, her mouth hanging open in a peaceful sleep, her arm still around her mother's waist.

The TV is turned on, but Katniss is not hearing it anymore, the sounds mute to her ears. She is a trance, looking at the kids, trying to calm down the spiral she's been on for minutes.

She's a mother. After years of thinking she would never be able to have kids, she's a mother of two and it scares the hell out of her. What if she's not good enough for them? What if she doesn't love them enough? What if she regrets all of this later?

What if someone takes them away from her?

She feels suffocated, so consumed with love, and nurturing, and worry that she can barely breathe straight, thinking that now that they are all together, something wrong might happen to end it all, to make her pay for ever thinking she deserved to be happy.

Peeta catches her eye and drapes his hand over her knees to call her attention. "What is it?" he asks, sensing something is not right. He knows her so well, always has. She never deserved him.

"How are we gonna take care of these kids, Peeta?" she questions, her voice twitchy, full of self-doubt and fear of failure.

His eyes soften at the sides, and he squeezes her leg gently . "Katniss, we already are."

She looks away from him, focusing on the kids. Her children, she tells herself, rolling the word around her mind like it's foreign, unknown until they both came to the world to make her hope and smile and crave for something better. With Peeta, they are all she has. And the terror of losing them, of being alone in a wild world again, swallows her whole, threatens to break her.

She gazes at Peeta again, her bottom lip trembling, her heart beating fast, and she feels the fear closing around her, smothering her quietly. Then one of his arms is around her, pulling her to him, to his chest, whispering soothing words full of promise and hope, making vows for a future full of happiness, of a better world. And the warmth of them, the baby boy pressed against her side while Peeta stills hold him, and the little girl sleeping, head on her lap, comforts her enough that she can control the sobs, can think straight again, can wipe the tears away, can breathe not-so-shallow breaths.

She looks up from her place, buried in Peeta's chest, and lets go of the fistful of his shirt she was grabbing. "Why did I think I could do this, Peeta? I'm so scared."

A sob breaks out of her as he rubs tiny circles on the space between her shoulder blades, trying to make her relax. "I'm scared, too," he says. "But, sweetheart, we got this far. And we'll keep on going. Together." He drops a kiss to her forehead, holds her closer. "It's going to be okay. We have each other."

Katniss wipes the residual tears from her eyes to clear her vision and gazes at him him, twisting and turning the words he just said on her head.

They, who still suffer from the effects of the war, who are forever trapped inside nightmare after nightmare, who are damaged and broken and somehow still alive…They made it. She, who feared not being good enough to ever carry a baby on her womb, who cringed at the possibility of ever having a child, is here. Married. With children. Somehow happy.

Together they can make it.

She takes a deep breath and watches her husband, her sweet, loving husband that gave her everything, things she didn't even know she wanted. And although there's still panic and doubt and uncertainty, she knows, feels they are going to be okay.

"We have each other," she echoes in a whisper.

Peeta smiles. The little girls stirs a little in her sleep. The baby boy yawns and his tiny hand clenches in a fist.

They are all safe.