Chapter 24: Whole Truth Revealed

I struggle to carry the stack of boxes through the front door of the bakery. My mother and sister follow close behind with other packages in their arms.

My mother has finally retired from her Healing practice. Though it is a great loss for the Seam, and frankly the whole of District 12, I know Prim will make an excellent successor. Such a change in management finally convinced my mother to move into the bakery with me, Peeta and the kids.

"Peeta, honey, we're home!" I call.

"There are the loveliest ladies in Twelve!" Peeta chuckles, planting a kiss on my lips in greeting that I tenderly return. "Lillian, how are you?"

"Where do you want this, Mother?" I ask, pausing on the stair landing as I turn back to her.

"Oh, just take it up to the spare room, dear; I'll unpack later."

I take the box up to the room we have already set aside as my mother's room. It will do for now; as my mother ages and stairs are no longer an option, we will likely turn the storage room/office downstairs into her quarters.

I set the box down with a THUMP. Wanting to help ease the work for my mother as much as possible, I begin to go through it and ponder what should go where. There are some old picture frames: one shows my parents on their wedding day, another the day I was born. A third captures a more somber occasion - the day my family accepted a posthumous medal on behalf of my father after the mining accident.

Setting this latest frame aside, I see a small file folder underneath it labeled GIRLS' BIRTH CERTIFICATES across the front in large letters. Smiling sentimentally, I open it and pull mine out.

There's my name: Katniss Sierra Everdeen. My height, weight and time of birth are all listed underneath. Then my parents are listed. Mother: Lillian Foley Everdeen. Father:...

Haymitch Abernathy?!

I rise, my breath coming out of me in choked gasps. I feel as though I'm drowning. This can't be right; that can't be true. The room is spinning, with only three words flashing in my head like a neon sign:

Father: Haymitch Abernathy, Father: Haymitch Abernathy, Father: Haymitch Abernathy...

I cry out, stumbling into a bedside table. The world as I heretofore knew it is gone. Estes Everdeen is somehow not my father. My father sits in the Victors' Village...

I jolt as I suddenly think of something. What of Primrose? Surely she is...

I scramble for the file folder and open it. There's her name: Primrose Foccaccia Everdeen. Height, weight, time of birth, our mother's name - that's all there. When I read the father's name, I crumble to the floor:

Father: Steffan Mellark.

Now it makes sense. Foccaccia is the name of a bread we bake all the time in the bakery. Downstairs, I can hear the distant laughter of my in-laws as they arrive to welcome my mother. Does Primrose know that she is related to them not just through marriage, but by blood? That my father-in-law is her biological father? Wouldn't that mean... Oh God...

"MOTHER!" I scream. I hear sudden footsteps pounding up the stairs, voices behind the door.

"Peeta, go back down, dear, I'll handle this..." My mother bursts in. "Katniss, what's wrong...?" She stops short.

I stand in the center of the room, the birth certificates in my hand. "This. What the hell is all this? Can you explain to me why it says my father is...?" I can't bare to speak his name before I break down in tears. Mother pulls me into her arms. I want to push her away, but I don't have to strength to.

"This is something I should have told you long ago." We sit down on the edge of her bed and she begins: "After we got married, your father and I wanted desperately to have children. We tried and we tried for about five years without any success. I began to suspect something was wrong, but I was not about to point fingers. I suggested that we find donors to create you and your sister, but your father would not hear of it; he refused to believe there was anything wrong. After a while, though, he began to get it in his mind that he was infertile. It nearly tore him apart."

I gasp, unable to believe my ears. "So, you floated to him the idea that you sleep with other men?"

"No, dear. There is another way to provide sperm. Injections of it into the mother's body are quite common, so the sperm can unify with an egg. But, for me... that isn't what happened..."

"One night, your father went to the bar in the Hob and met up with Cotton Hawthorne, Gale's dad. He asked him if he would sleep with me in order to produce a child. So the story goes, Cotton refused at first, then said he would think about it."

"That same night, I had to make a delivery to Haymitch Abernathy in Victors' Village. I became very upset, and Haymitch guessed at what was wrong. Well, actually, he knew: he had overheard your father at the bar. We got drunk together, and I held him that night. Pretty soon, one thing led to another, and..." she chokes up. "I found out I was pregnant with you a few weeks later."

I want to throw up at the thought of my mother having sex with that old drunk. I sniffle. "Did... did Daddy know?"

"Estes?" and I realize the identity of 'Daddy' is now confusing in conversation. "He knew. He knew you weren't biologically his. But he didn't know who your real father was. Or, at least, he thought he knew. Till the day he died, he believed that Cotton Hawthorne was your father."

"And the Hawthornes maintained that lie?" I ask. She nods.

I hiccup. "And Primrose... Steffan is...?"

My mother looks away in shame. "I seduced him one night in the Meadow. I never told Estes who her father was. In fact, for both of you, I had your birth certificates delivered to our house instead of at the Justice Building, and filled them out the Father lines after the fact. Estes never saw them. I didn't want to break his heart further."

I pause, digesting all I have just heard. "Should we tell the others?"

Mother takes a deep breath. "I guess now there is no choice. It's time. They have a right to know and your sister, especially."

We walk downstairs as though we are in the procession of a funeral march. My family is laughing and joking. They won't be for much longer. My mother calls for quiet.

"There is something that I need to come clean about. I was going to take it to my grave, except now I, in good conscience, cannot..."

She retells the story she told me right from the beginning. When we get to the part about Primrose's origins, that's when all hell breaks loose.

"You cheated on me!" Mrs. Mellark rounds on Steffan. "I knew she was a no good... Ooooooohhhhhh... you little BITCH!" She lunges at my mother.

"Hey. Hey!" Peeta roars, diving into the fray along with Leven. The two brothers keep the women apart. Primrose, meanwhile, is staring at the Baker as if she's never seen him before.

"You're my father?" she draws closer to him, examining his face. She must recognize some of herself in him, for she suddenly bursts into tears and throws herself into his arms.

Rye looks just as stunned as it dawns on him. "But that means... you're our sister, Prim!"

"Half-sister," she corrects from over Steffan's shoulder.

All at once, I hear stirring from my children's room upstairs. Great. Just great. Naptime is over. "Rye, go up there and keep them occupied!"

"Oh, but don't you want them to join our little family reunion?" Mrs. Mellark sneers. "Find out Mommy's little secret?"

I flip her the bird. "Rye..." I snarl. "Whatever you do, don't let them come downstairs!"

Rye dashes up the steps.

Suddenly, there is a knock at the back door. Oh, who is it now? Peeta answers it - and once he does, I wish he hadn't.

"Katniss, I..." Darius is standing on the back stoop, with a bouquet of roses in his hand. Peeta sees the flowers, and his eyes narrow dangerously.

"Darius, can you explain why you are asking after my wife?"

Darius visibly gulps. No answer.

"I'll ask you again: why are you here to see my wife?"

Darius suddenly bolts down the alley and out of sight. Peeta looks like he wants to go after him, but his father stops him. I bury my face in my hands. For her part, Mrs. Mellark starts cackling like the witch that she is.

"What wonders never cease! Yet another affair in this family! Another slut! Like mother, like daughter!" she sneers at Mother and me. Then, she gets another thought: "But what do you expect, with an old drunk for a father, hmmmmm? I know some Peacekeepers who would just love to hear this story!"

"Paula, SHUT UP!" the roar comes from Steffan, and it must be the first time the Baker has ever stood up to his wife, for she stares at him in disbelief. "You drag Haymitch into this, you die at my hands. You understand me? I'll save the Peacekeepers the trouble - Lord knows you should have been shot by them long ago!"

I am not sure what the Baker means by this statement, though I wager child abuse probably has something to do with it. Paula splutters like a fish before closing her mouth.

I turn away to see Peeta sending me a look of stone. He sighs heavily. "Any explanation at all?"

I hang my head. "No. No excuses, either."

"You're damn right 'No excuses, either,'" he hisses through clenched teeth. "Besides the fact that we are distant half-siblings, apparently. I think that counts as incest, wouldn't you say?"

I glance up, horrified and sickened. With Primrose's connection, I hadn't thought of that. "Distantly! You and I have two separate sets of parents..."

"Yeah, but Primrose is half sister to both of us; you two share the same mom, she and I share the same dad! Somehow... I don't know how... we're related. And now I discover you've been unfaithful! Katniss... I want a divorce."

I burst into tears, even as I nod. Ruined. I have ruined everything! Everything I had!

Peeta and I quietly sign the divorce application papers. I move my things out of the bakery, and take up residence in my mother's old house in the Seam. Mother and Prim offered to come with me, and Paula encouraged the idea, but Steffan would have none of it, citing Prim as family, and Lillian by extension.

Prim. Thanks to the Mellark blood in her veins, she gets to stay, but I don't. Perhaps it's for the best. I've brought Peeta enough pain.

A few weeks later, I begin to feel strange nausea, throwing up constantly. Oh no... for a moment, I wonder if it's Peeta's, but that can't be; we have not had sex in a month or two, at least. Before the affair. That leaves...

Darius. Once again, I have been impregnated by a Peacekeeper. Given the circumstances in which we came together, I feel sick. But what's done is done. Even if two people couple illicitly, God can still bless the union with a baby. The breaking of marital vows does not matter to Him.

I take Darius into the woods one day. Sitting by my father's hunting cabin, I tell him that I am carrying his baby. His eyes fill with tears. He drops to one knee, and pulls out a ring.

"Will you marry me?"

I pause, staring at the golden band. I don't deserve this. I don't deserve happiness after everything I've done. But our baby does. I can't just abort away my problem this time. Our baby deserves two parents.

So I slip the ring on my finger and gently kiss Darius. "OK," I whisper quietly.

I stand on the stoop of the Victor's mansion for a good five minutes. For the second time in my life, I am clothed in my mother's wedding dress. My wedding dress. My marriage to Darius will occur late that afternoon. This morning, however, I some last business to attend to...

Gathering the last of my courage, I knock. After a moment, he answers the door. His hair is a mess, but otherwise he is clothed decently - ripped jeans, and a burgundy puffer coat.

I stare at him for a moment. Once again, I try to wrap my head around the fact that Haymitch Abernathy - Victor of the 50th Hunger Games, the only living Victor from District 12, the richest man in Twelve, and the biggest drunk I've ever known - is my father.

"I know who you are. And more importantly, you know who I am. Don't you?"

Haymitch stares at me, taking in my wedding dress. Finally, he stands aside. "I wondered if this day would ever come."

I step inside. His mansion is still as messy as ever - bottles littering the floor, the one trash bin in the kitchen overflowing.

"It's true, you know. I am... I am your father."

I turn back to face him, to stare at him. Hearing his admittance makes me realize - and it hits me hard - what a bad father he's been. "Some father," I lash out at him. "Prim and I nearly starved to death when our dad was killed in the mines."

Haymitch hangs his head in shame. "I was drinking a lot at that time. I always wanted to do more to help. The best I could manage was to leave a basket of food by your door. You were still little - maybe twelve."

I actually remember that. Someone had left a basket of fruit and breads and cheeses in the middle of the night one autumn. I had always wondered who it was. "That was you?"

He nods heavily. "Katniss, you have to understand I could not do anything more beyond that. It would have looked suspicious to the Peacekeepers that a Victor was favoring a dead miner's family. I may have never been there, but everything I ever did was to protect you." I glance up when I hear the intensity in his last phrase, and am floored to see tears streaming down his face. " At a certain point, I was always ready to face the consequences - to protect what was left of my family. I lost my whole family after I came home from the Games, Katniss. My mother. My brother. My girl. When your mom came to me that night, I was drunk. I didn't know what I was doing. When I found out she was carrying you, I went into a tailspin. Shut up here, day and night. I tried to withdraw from alcohol, but I kept suffering from symptoms. It scared the people in Town; the Peacekeepers showed up one time. And then, I realized: you were my one chance to leave a legacy that actually meant something! Through you, I could carry on the Abernathy line - and those pompous retards like Snow would never be the wiser! If the Capitol knew I had fathered a child, they would have used you against me, to get to me! You would have been Reaped for the arena, guaranteed - children of Victors are very popular for that. And I was NOT about to let that happen. Even if I was willing to give up everything else - my health, my humanity, my last shred of dignity - I could never give up... my daughter."

He turns away, resting his hands on the kitchen table, staring into the wood. "I'm a murderer, Katniss. There are things I've done in my life that I'm not proud of, that I will never live down. 47 other children died - some of them I killed - so that I could live. Is that really a destiny, a legacy, I can hang my hat on? But that boy that went into the arena is gone - and this old drunken man is all that's left."

I stay silent throughout his entire monologue. Throughout it all, my heart melts. To think of what this man went through... to think that, in never claiming me as his own, he was actually protecting me, even showing his love for me the only way he could... My eyes fill with tears, and I smile. Say it, I tell myself. Say it, Katniss.

"You're more than just an old drunk. You're not just a Victor. You're a legend. And... you're my father. And I'm proud to be your daughter."

Haymitch turns to me, shocked by my words. I burst into tears at last, and fling myself into his arms. "Daddy!"

Haymitch stands stock still for a moment, before finally putting his arms around me and returning my hug. I rest my head against his chest - still remarkably strong and muscular despite his years of bodily abuse from drinking. Haymitch - no, Daddy - rests his chin on the top of my head, stoically looking into the distance beyond. My wracking sobs soon turn into sighs of peace as I relax in his embrace.

"I've... I've always wanted to hold you like this," Daddy confesses. "When you were small and you would come into the Hob with your... with Estes, I just wanted to hug you! But I knew it was not my place."

"Did you... did you know... Estes?" I whimper.

"I knew both your parents. The Hawthornes and Mr. Mellark, too. Your mom was one of the nicest girls I've ever met; she always made the effort to talk to me. I was a bit of a lone wolf, even before the Games; didn't have too many real friends."

Another thought occurs to me. He lost his mom and brother after he won? That would make them my paternal grandmother and uncle.

I sniffle. "Do I... Do I look like anyone in your family?"

Daddy draws back so he can look me full in the face. "You're built like your Grandma Abernathy a little bit. Her arms were thin, like yours. The shape of your forehead is a lot like your Uncle Gregory's; my brother." he points to a picture frame on the wall. "That's him, right there."

I behold a picture of two boys: dark brown hair, Seam grey eyes for both. It must have been taken just before Haymitch was reaped for the arena, for I recognize the stocky youth that is featured in the rare re-airing of the Second Quarter Quell. My Uncle Gregory looks to be about twelve, which would make their age difference the same as mine and Prim's.

"You look beautiful." Haymitch nods as I turn back around to face him. "You marrying that Peacekeeper boy today?"

I nod. "I'm pregnant. With his baby."

He whistles heavily. "Not exactly pleased with how that turned out. I know about the affair," he adds before I can explain. "If it had been up to me, I would have raised you better than that, and that's all I'm saying! Just my two cents, but you had it real good with Peeta; I've only ever wanted the best man for you."

I gasp as another memory surfaces in my consciousness. "Is that why you bid on me at the Hundred Days Union and then let Peeta...?"

He snorts. "Duh, sweetheart. Wasn't about to let that Drury motherfucker bed my daughter - my daughter!" he growls protectively, and it warms my heart. "Besides, I consider it a miracle that Peeta invited me to your toasting. Never thought I would see my own daughter getting married."

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," I seize on the perfect segway. " You can see me get married again. I know you're not happy over how it is coming about, but... would you walk your own daughter down the aisle?"

Haymitch wipes his nose noisily on his sleeve. Tears cling to his scruffy beard. He clears his throat. "Ya hear that, Duke, old buddy? I'm giving my daughter away today!"

I follow his gaze over to another picture on the wall - that of a middle-aged man in a warrior stance, with a sword in his hand. Duke Vedaldi - the mentor who helped to save my father, his apprentice, from death. Victor of the 13th Hunger Games.

"Wait," and Haymitch is suddenly nervous. "What if people...?"

I smile gently and take his hand. "They know that you and I worked together to free Peeta from jail. Everyone will think you're an old friend of the family, doing a favor." I leave the part out about how all the Mellarks know of my true parentage. None of them will tell, and Steffan will make damn sure Paula won't. "Nobody has to know."

Haymitch nods. "All right, sweetheart. I gotta go change. Let's get you married! BUT -" and he wags a finger at me as he turns back. "If that Darius punk ever hurts you, so help me God I will kill him! I've killed before; I can kill again if it protects my baby girl!"

I smile, my eyes threatening to turn into a waterworks all over again. "Sure, Daddy."

The wedding ceremony is beautiful.

I am floored that my mother and Prim are even there, not to mention all my former in-laws. There is Simit and his younger twin sisters, Iris and Amaryllis, squirming in the pew. But the true shocker is seeing my ex-husband there, calming our children. What's more, Peeta stays through the entire thing, even through when Darius and I are declared husband and wife and kiss.

Nobody seems bothered that Haymitch is the one to give me away. I could see the knowing looks in the Mellarks' eyes, but they keep the secret to themselves. In fact, my biological father proves to be quite the entertainment at the toasting and reception, telling stories of his youth - before the Games, before the arena. He looks the happiest I have seen him in years.

"Having a great time, sweetheart!" he chuckles when I pass by.

I whisper in his ear. "Just wait until you get to play with all your grandbabies!"

I look around for my sister, but I can't find her; Leven informs me that she and her boyfriend Rory Hawthorne took my kids home to the bakery for the night. I smile to myself. The two of them will be great parents themselves one day...

From across the room, I can see my... ex-husband slipping towards the door to leave. I race after him.

"Wait!"

He turns around, surprised. "Katniss."

I want to hug him, but pull up short. Instead, I say, "Thank You. For staying for this."

Peeta just nods. "You would have done the same for me."

"But I would never have needed to," I express. "You would never have betrayed me - never!" I begin to cry. "Peeta, I'm... I'm so sorry I put you through all this! I... I will work for your forgiveness, even if it takes the rest of my life..."

Peeta cups his face in my hands, brushing my tears away with his thumb. "Ssssssshhhhhhhh... and you will get that forgiveness someday. For now... you have my blessing. And I have ten years of marriage and memories, three beautiful children by you. And we're still friends. Let's part as that."

Before I can stop myself, I kiss his lips. He does not refuse me. For us, this is a kiss goodbye. This kiss is the last gift I can leave him with. We break apart gently. Peeta's smile tells me he understands all the thoughts I could otherwise not express.

"Goodbye," he murmurs. He turns to leave.

"Peeta!"

He turns. I smile softly. I whisper, "I love you."

He nods. "I know."

A/N: And that's THE END, folks! I knew I said I would hold off, but I managed to find some time. Besides, I wanted this story put to bed! Thanks for reading! I will leave you all with - what else? - a musical theatre quote:

"She's imperfect, but she tires. She is good, but she lies. She is hard on herself. She is broken and won't ask for help. She is messy, but she's kind. She is lonely, most of the time. She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie. She is gone, but she used to be mine. / It's not what I asked for. Sometimes life just slips in through a back door, and carves out a person who makes you believe it's all true. And now I've got you. You're not what I asked for. If I'm honest, I know I would give it all back for a chance to start over, and rewrite an ending or two - for the girl that I knew." ~ Sara Bareilles, Waitress