When she is five, she asks a question.
" Mommy, how did you and daddy meet?"
Katniss stops dead in her tracks, removing the wooden spoon from the soup and placing it next to her. She turns to her.
" Well, Everly. . . it was raining. And I was very hungry. And daddy fed me. He gave me some bread."
Everly knits her eyebrows together. " The same kind of bread we make?"
Katniss nods. " Yes."
" Then how do we still laugh at it?"
Katniss laughs at her childish manner. She stoops to her height and kisses her head of brown hair. " Everly Mellark, you are the silliest girl I know. It's not the same bread, sweetheart. Just the same recipe."
Everly smiles and nods. " Okay."
Katniss breaths a sigh of relief. It is over. For now.
_•_
When she is seven, she ask a question.
She comes in from school, skipping, and sits at the counter. " Mommy?"
" Yes, sweetie?" Katniss asks. River and she are skinning a rabbit. Out the corner of her eye, she sees Everly wrinkle her nose at it.
" What is the Hungry Games?"
Katniss stops, dead in her tracks, terror coursing through her. Slowly, she turns to River. " River, sweetheart, why don't you go pick some flowers for mommy? Huh? Stay right outside." She ushers him out the front door and then walks back to the sink, rinsing the blood from her hands.
" They're called the Hunger Games," Katniss deadpans. " The best I can tell you is that, once, a very, very long time ago, a bad man created them. He wasn't nice. He made them so that children would fight children."
" She said they died."
She turns away from the sink to look at her. " Who did, sweetheart?"
" My teacher," Everly mumbles, her bottom lip trembling.
Katniss bends down and kisses her forehead. " They did. A very long time ago. And it won't ever happen again."
" Promise?"
" I promise, Everly. I promise."
_•_
When he is six, he asks a question.
He has been studying her all day. And eventually, he sidles up to Katniss and asks to go to the woods.
So they do. As they walk through the woods, bows in hand, he turns and looks at her.
" Everly said you fought kids when you were younger."
Katniss stills. He walks a few paces in front of her and sits down. He is so serious, so serene. . . it is unnerving.
" I did," Katniss whispers, unsure how her nine-year-old son knows.
" Did you kill anyone?"
" No," she says, then sighs. " Well, it's complicated. I didn't want to be a part I it-"
" Did you kill anyone?"
" Yes. But he hurt my friend and I was very mad."
" Oh," he leaves it there. So Katniss pulls him into a hug and she doesn't let him out her sight for the rest of the day.
_•_
When she is ten, she asks a question.
Katniss locks Peeta in their bedroom. Slowly, she trudges down the stairs.
" Mommy?" Everly asks as her mom hits the last stair. She is shaking and crying.
" What's wrong, sweetie?" Katniss asks, taking her in her arms.
Hesitantly, she wraps her arms around her frame. Katniss holds her close. " Why does daddy try to hurt you?"
Katniss holds her at arms length and strokes her hair. " He doesn't, sweetheart."
" Yes, he does."
" He didn't. He was jus-"
" You sent us to Haymitch's."
Haymitch is standing in the doorway, Katniss noted, looking at her with disapproval.
" Yes, I did. But only to protect you," Katniss says.
" But why?" she asks, leaning back into her mother. " Why would daddy want to hurt you?"
" Oh, sweetie." Katniss kisses her hair. " He doesn't want to. He just can't help it."
_•_
When she is thirteen, she asks a question. She comes towards Katniss, frantic. The item in her hands is the memory book.
" What is this?" she asks.
" It's a book, Everly," she says tiredly, confused as to how she found it, tucked away under Peeta and her's bed.
" Why does it have so many dead people in it?" she asks, opening it to a random page, which just so happens to have Prim on it. She jabs her finger directly into Prim's face. " Who is that?"
" You're aunt," she says softly.
" Aunt? I don't have an aunt!"
" Yes, you do," Katniss whispers. She takes the book from her daughter and flips through the pages, showing her more pictures of Prim. " This was my sister, Prim. She died a long time ago."
For a moment, Everly is silent.
" Why didn't you tell me?" she asks in a quiet, broken voice.
She wipes a tear from her cheek. " It's hard to talk about, Everly."
" It's okay, I'll listen."
Katniss smiles. " I know you will, Everly."
_•_
When he is fourteen, he asks a question.
" Dad, who is Haymitch - really?"
Peeta stills, ceasing his kneading, and turns to his son. He slides into a booth and pats the space across from him. " Sit."
River sits down and wipes away stray tears. It is then Peeta understands.
" He's gone?"
" He's gone. And I. . . I never got to say goodbye."
" How's your mother?" Peeta asks, swallowing.
" She's fine, as always," River whispers. " She cried a little but then she stopped. Everly's a mess. She locked herself in her room."
Peeta sighs. " We should get going. They need us."
River clenches his jaw. " No! I asked a question! Who is Haymitch? Dad, who was Haymitch? I know he's not our grandpa."
" He acted like a grandfather to you, and that's all that should matter."
River glares at Peeta. " I want to know, dad."
Peeta glares right back. " Fine. You want to know?" River nods, exasperated. " Haymitch was a well meaning drunk when we met him. He was our mentor in The Hunger Games. He took a liking to your mother, and came to love her. When you two where born, he came to love you."
" So he's not our grandfather."
Peeta shakes his head. " Not by blood. But sometimes family isn't defined by who shares the same genes as you. It's defined by you who loves you. Haymitch loved you unconditionally, River."
" I loved him, too. I wish I could've told him that."
Peeta grasps his sons hand. " He knew, River. He knew."
River looks up and nods. His eyes are red and puffy.
" Go home, son. I'll be right behind you."
Only when River was outside, did Peeta allow himself to cry.
_•_
When they are grown up, they ask a question.
" What's the real story?"
Katniss and Peeta turn to face their children. The words rolled off their tongue in perfect unison, as though it has been practiced a hundred times over.
" I don't know what you're talking about," Katniss lies simply, turning back to the pot of stew she has been concocting all day.
" Yes," their eighteen year old daughter says, "you do."
Their son, who is now fifteen, nods. " We want to know about Haymitch, and about how you two met, and about how dad hits you sometimes, and about how mom wakes up screaming."
Katniss frowns and looks at Peeta, who gives an almost unrecognisable nod of the head. She sighs and takes a seat at the table, immediately beginning her story:
" It all started when I was sixteen. I woke up and felt the other side of the bed, seeking Prim's warmth. . ."
_•_
Hey guys!
So I have been working on this oneshot forever.
I hope you all enjoyed it! :)
Thanks for reading and I love you all so much!!
- realornotreal_real xx