I love me some Peeta and Katniss so I wrote this :)) Hope you enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: Totally forgot! haha Thanks Picaresca. Eye for reminding me!
Peeta stops in the doorway, watching her as she stares at herself in the mirror. Her body is different now. Her belly is bigger, her breasts bigger, her limbs thicker. He sees how it terrifies her, how much she hates it, even though she never says anything. He always was able to read what she left unspoken.
Her fingers splay over her belly, her eyes filled with so much fear and confusion that it breaks his heart. He wonders all the time if she regrets this, if she wants to get rid of this baby. He knows it's silly, knows that she would never kill their baby no matter how scared she is, but it eats at him every time he sees something like that in her eyes.
He moves forward, smiling at her in the mirror as he wraps his arms around her. He presses them to her belly, kissing her shoulder. Her fingers intertwine with his, her head leaning against his. "I feel fat."
He chuckles, pressing another kiss to her neck, right under her ear. Her breath hitches; he knows what that spot does to her. "You're beautiful." He replies, pulling her closer to him.
"You always think that." She mumbles, rolling her eyes at him in the mirror. He grins, turning her toward him and meeting her eyes.
"Nothing will change that." He said, his voice serious and filled with love. She shakes her head, but smiles happily all the same. He presses a kiss to those smiling lips, deep and passionate. Thanking her yet again for this baby. She returns it, laying her head against his chest after and wrapping her arms around his waist. "I love you. I love you both."
Her hands tighten around him. He presses another reassuring kiss to her hair.
When it kicks the first time, she is so terrified. Frozen in the chair, her eyes wide and her hands shaking. She tries to control herself, tries to look okay but fails miserably. Usually she was so good at hiding what she feels, but these damn hormones made everything so overwhelming.
"Mrs. Ghira said it would happen soon." He says, brushing her hair away from her face, taking her shaking hand in his. "It's normal. It means the baby is okay."
He says it, but knows that not what this is about. Before this she was just getting sick (something like the flu, didn't have to be a baby), she was getting fatter (just gaining weight, didn't have to be a baby), but now it was moving, it was forcing her to acknowledge that it was really, truly in there.
"It's fine." She says after a long while, her jaw tight and her back stiff when she stands. "It's supposed to happen."
"Katniss." He whispers, taking her face in his hands. Her eyes meet his and something breaks, her lip shaking, her eyes filling with tears. "It's okay." He brings her to him, holds her close.
"I don't want it moving in there. Everything is already to… to scary." She admits her arms tight around him.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't do this for you." He whispers into her hair, meaning every word. It pains him, kills him to see her so scared, so fearful. He wants this baby, prayed for this baby for 14 years. But he hates how scared she is, how much she hates this all so much. Sometimes he regrets pushing her. "It will be over in just a few months."
"I hate it." She whispers and his heart breaks. He pulls back, wiping her face of those awful tears, giving her a loving smile.
"How about some cheesy buns?" He asks softly, his thumb running across her cheek. She sniffs, looking like a small child as she nods. He kisses her softly, pressing his forehead to hers for a moment before heading toward the kitchen. He looks back, watches her sink into her chair. She sits, staring ahead. He knows the baby's moving, fluttering when her hand clenches so hard he's sure she is going to draw blood.
Her belly is round and there and it is obvious she's carrying their baby. People around town are careful with her, their eyes avoiding her belly, never touching. Not after she nearly broke some poor man's hand off that dared to try to touch her stomach. Peeta hardly even touches her belly. Only at night, never when she's awake and got that fear deep in her eyes.
At night he moves her shirt up, pressing his hand to her round, tight belly. He smiles as he feels their little baby move against his hand. He wonders if it's a little fist or little foot stretching in there. He talks to the little girl (they don't know, but he always pictures a little girl, beautiful and dark and amazing like his Katniss), tells her how special she is, how much he loves her. She's very active at night, and it prides him that she seems to calm when he talks to her. And sometimes Katniss stirs, and he jerks his hand away until he's sure she's still asleep. He's not sure what she would say if she heard him.
She doesn't touch her belly much either, avoids it like she's scared. Sometimes when the baby is giving her trouble, moving around too much or kicking her so hard it hurts she'll rub the spot softly.
She naps often now, so tired from the pregnancy. They lounge today in bed, her swollen feet in his lap as they watch some news from the capitol lazily. Her eyes are closed and he is surprised when her face scrunches, her hand moving to her belly.
He watches her, hand on the peak of her belly where their little girl must have kicked her. "Is the baby kicking?" He asks casually, turning his eyes to the TV as to not look too concerned. He knows how irritated she gets when he hovers.
"It won't stop." She mutters, her hand falling to her side and her eyes still on him. She scoots over suddenly, pats the open space. "Can you talk to it? It always stops when you do."
He turns to look at her, surprised and fearful. She smiles knowingly, her black curls around her head like a dark halo. "It wakes me up at night. It stops when you talk to it." He hesitates, still watching her. Her eyes soften, filled with love. "It's okay, Peeta. It's okay if you want to… feel it. It's your baby too."
He smiles at her, moving to lie beside her, his head on her chest. He presses his hands to her stomach under the ratty old t-shirt of his she's wearing. He feels the baby immediately, rolling around and kicking. Katniss' fingers run through his hair tiredly, her eyes closing as he begins rubbing small circles into her stomach. "Mommy is trying to sleep, little girl. You gotta calm down…"
The baby stills within minutes and he feels Katniss' fingers slip from his hair, her soft snore filling the room.
When he has his first flash back in nearly two years, he can't look at her for a week. He didn't do anything, didn't even grab her and it wasn't a big one, she says to him. She is reassuring him, comforting him for the first time in nearly 7 months. "I'm okay, Peeta. It was a small one. Everything is fine."
It's not fine. She's pregnant, their little helpless baby is inside her and he could have hurt her, could have harmed the baby. And what about when it's out, when it's here smiling at him and suddenly he's confused, he's alone with it and he's that deadly mutt Snow made him. What if he grabbed it, his fingers digging into its little arms the way he has done to her in the past? Leaves those awful bruises he can never, ever forgive himself for no matter how many times she assures him she's okay.
She leans over him, presses a kiss to where the tear slowly makes its way down his cheek. "Peeta, we'll do this together." She whispers, pressing another soft kiss to his cheek, brushes her fingers through his hair. "I'm still sick sometimes too. Sometimes it takes everything just to step out of bed. But on those days, you'll take the baby and you'll play with it and love it for both of us. And on your bad days I'll take it, love it while you're getting better."
He looks at her, takes in the determination in her eyes. No fear, for once there is no fear. He takes her face in his hands, presses kiss after kiss. "Okay," he whispers, his voice cracking as he pulls her to him. "Okay."
She smiles, warm and loving. It's the smile he loves, the one that he looks forward to coming home to. It's the one he hopes she passes onto their baby.
Only two more weeks and their child will be here. Katniss has small, odd pains that Mrs. Ghira calls Braxton Hicks. They scare her, make her sit for hours until they go away. Mrs. Ghira tells her she'll know the difference, know when the pains are the real thing.
He makes her stay around the house now, stays with him and leaves the bakery with a young man he hired years ago. He makes sure she does hardly anything, just rests and is okay.
Haymitch is over when it really starts. He peers at her in his drunken haze and raises a dark eyebrow. "What's wrong, sweetheart? About to pop?"
Peeta looks to her, watching her rub her back and try to hide the pain from him. "Katniss…" he says, panic and fear and joy rising in him. She looks to him, her eyes fearful as her hand comes to rest on her belly. "Katniss-"
"Go get Mrs. Ghira." She mutters, looking away from him. Haymitch nearly chokes on his drink, coughing as he stares at her. Peeta is already by her side, asking questions, touching her belly and her face. "Go get her!" She cries and Haymitch is up, running and shaking in fear. Peeta helps her up the stairs, sits her down on their bed. Her hands shake as she presses them to her belly, her face scrunched in pain.
"Katniss, I'll be here the whole time." He tells her, pressing a kiss to her hair and getting the things that Mrs. Ghira left in preparation for this very moment. He jumps in surprise when she snatches his hand, grips it so hard he's afraid his fingers will break. She looks at him, her dark eyes wide and fearful.
"Peeta, what if I-I can't-"
He shakes his head, squeezing her hand and staring her in the face. "You can. You're so strong Katniss, so loving. You can."
Her eyes fill with tears, but she doesn't have much time to cry as Mrs. Ghira comes in, hurrying around and giving orders. Katniss obeys, but never, ever lets go of his hand. Haymitch stays, to his surprise, even when she begins to scream and curse the both of them.
She's in so much pain he can hardly take it. He wants to do this for her and wants Mrs. Ghira to do something to make it easier for her. But he can do nothing but whisper that he loves her, that it will be over soon and hold her hand and move her hair from her face. It takes hours for Mrs. Ghira to tell her it's time to push, that this is it. Katniss looks to him and he smiles, tells her he loves her.
"Push!" Mrs. Ghira orders and Katniss pushes, her chin tucked to her chest, grunting and snorting. If she wasn't so scared and crushing his bones to dust he would laugh at how much like a pig she sounds like.
Mrs. Ghira says she sees the head and Peeta feels his own fear, wonders if he can be a good father, wonders if he can be everything this baby needs. But he doesn't have much time to ponder and get stuck on this because suddenly she holds up a crying, bloody baby and declares her a girl and so much loves fills him it makes him dizzy. "A girl… a baby girl, Katniss." He whispers, pressing a kiss to her sweaty temple. She's so tired and worn, but her eyes are trained on the baby, filling with tears.
"She's… beautiful." She sighs, a sob tearing at her throat as Mrs. Ghira lays her on her chest. She touches her, feels her soft kiss and takes her little hand. "Look at how tiny her fingers are!" She cries, delighted and amazed. Peeta laughs, touching the little fingers for himself. The little baby girl is crying, red and angry. She has Katniss' dark skin, her soft, black hair. But she's got Peeta's eyes.
"She's loud as hell." Haymitch mumbles, but when Peeta finally ts his eyes away from their perfect little girl he actually sees tears in the old man's eyes.
"She's perfect." Peeta declares, his own tears coming down his cheeks. Katniss turns to him, happiness and love and pure joy on her face. No fear. No pain. This is what their daughter has already done for her.
"Perfect." Katniss repeats, hugging her closer and pressing a kiss to her head.
They name her Alyss, something new and all her own. It was one of Katniss' demands in the beginning. Nothing that connected her with the dead. She was something new and beautiful and perfect.
She grows swiftly, far too fast for Peeta. He feels like he blinks and suddenly she is a smart little five year old, with two braids in her dark hair and a little blue dress on for her first day of school. She looks so much like her mother… except for her eyes. She has his bright blue eyes. Katniss always says she's glad for that, she loves his eyes.
She hopes the new baby has his eyes too, she tells him, her hand on her belly.
Alyss smiles at him, turning to make sure she looks okay. He gathers her in his arms, presses a kiss to her cheek and tells her she's beautiful. Perfect.
"You're mommy had braids like this her first day of school." He tells her, smiling at his wife as she ducks her head, rolling her eyes. She knows where this is going.
"She did?" The little girl cries, excited to be like mommy. He knows she worships Katniss, loves her more than anything.
"She did." He smiles, pressing a kiss to her temple and tugs on one of the braids. "I fell in love with her that day."
They send her to school and she makes mommy promise not to have the new baby without her there. Katniss cries when their back at the house. Mumbles that she misses her and are you sure she's ready? Peeta hugs her, suppressing a smile.
He wonders if she'll cry like this for the next baby's first day of school. Wonders what it'll be like. He hopes for a boy this time, a son to teach and play with.
He watches his wife wipe her tears, her brown eyes soft as he kisses her forehead. "She'll be fine Katniss. She'll be okay."
She nods, believing him. Peeta hasn't steered her wrong before, not during the Games, not with their baby girl. They'll be fine.
They'll be fine, she repeats. Goes over the good things. Her little game.
Yes, they'll be fine.
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