#many people fail to realize that Katniss had EVERYTHING on her fucking shoulders

[mega-ringsandthings-world]

People need to understand that the reason Peeta could so readily begin planning to save Katniss after the announcement of the Quarter Quell is because he had the luxury of being in the position to do so. People often fail to realize just how much pressure Katniss was under, most of the entire facade between her and Peeta to smooth the unrest was on Katniss’ shoulders. Not Peeta’s. Katniss’ role was doubly hard, insomuch as she had to worry about making her feelings for Peeta appear genuine when they were not, as well as shouldering the blame for the entire situation. It was Katniss who was singled out at the end of the first hunger games, she was pegged as the instigator from the very start and told to fix the damage she had caused accordingly. Not Peeta. Peeta would simply go down with Katniss if she failed to convince the districts back into docility, he was in danger if she failed or misstepped, because she was the one on whom responsibility lay.  So when the announcement for the Quarter Quell happened, it was move designed to wipe out Katniss and cut the Capitol’s losses. Which Katniss understood. Because she had failed her appointed task, and her reaction only reflected all her fears up until that point. She had gone from the horror of the first hunger games to being an unwilling instigator of revolution, and from there straight into the task of damage control, and from there into the horror of the realization she had controlled and fixed nothing, and finally, into the horror of another games. Peeta could immediately begin planning to save Katniss, because he wasn’t in the same agony of mind Katniss was, because his roles and her roles her exponentially different on so many levels.

While Peeta was along for the ride, Katniss was pulling the switches. Because Peeta didn’t have the same worries Katniss did, he had the luxury of thinking beyond himself in that moment. (P.S. Haymitch was an absolute rank bitch for telling a sixteen year-old girl she was fundamentally a worse person for a moment of despair in the face of a fucking death second sentence.) 

#thg #the hunger games #katniss #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #because peeta is quite prominent in the story beside Katniss #many people fail to realize that Katniss had EVERYTHING on her fucking shoulders #his life her families life #the fucking districts #their continued survival was being rated by a meter kept on katniss by snow #few people in thg shared the absolute burden katniss carried #and imao #peeta was not one of them

[bethpeaches123]

So I loved the Oh it’s You update! I was dying when they were talking at the end of the chapter and Peeta is clearly entranced with Katniss...would you pretty please write an outtake of that scene in his POV- I would love to know what was going through his mind when she was talking to him about his marriage....about what he really wants lol

Okay my friend, here you go! It got a little long...hope you enjoy!

I'll be posting this to AO3 soon too, I just don't know if it'll be separate from the rest of Oh, it's you or if it'll be a separate thing.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Peeta sat at a table in front of the window of Brewed Awakening, his hands wrapped around the steaming mug of tea that Sara, the cashier had just placed in front of him. He smiled his thanks as she turned and walked back to the counter, him turning back to stare at the tea bag floating at the top of the mug.

It had been a rough few weeks since he and Delly had broken the news to Connor. Every time he thought about his son’s sweet little face peering up at him as he told him he’d be moving out of their house, and Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t be together any more, his heart physically ached in his chest. He hated that he was causing his favourite person in the world any sort of upset, especially his precious boy.

Peeta felt guilty. He’d tried for so long with Delly. They’d been together since high school, when they were just kids.

Back then, he’d been so fixated on Katniss Everdeen, ever since the day he’d met her, but could never work up the nerve to talk to her, let alone ask her out. He’d been so frustrated and disappointed with himself over it. Peeta had himself so worked up over it, he pushed her away as much as he could and vowed to move on.

The day Delly asked him to go to the Halloween dance in junior year, he accepted. She was a pretty girl who was sweet and bubbly, and he liked that. Liked how she made him feel. There was no real stress with Delly. No real excitement, but it was comfortable. Safe.

He didn’t really think much of the state of his relationship - he just thought it was normal to not be madly, hopelessly in love. He loved Delly, yes, but it was never passionate or all-consuming like the great romances in movies made love out to be. He went through the stages of a relationship with her, did all the things he thought he was supposed to. Delly seemed happy and so did both their families, so when they’d been together for a few years and she started leaving links to engagement rings open on her laptop, he took the hint and proposed. All the while thinking maybe things would become more passionate or...loving, once they got married.

But it didn’t happen. In fact, six months in, he realized things weren’t going to get better and was prepared to ask for a divorce, but then Delly announced she was pregnant. And he knew he couldn’t leave then. Becoming a father was terrifying but it was something he’d always wanted, more than anything else in life. So he decided to once again dedicate himself to his marriage and the mother of his child. And it worked for a little while. But forcing a marriage never works in the end, no matter how much you may want it to, no matter how much you want to put up a united front for your child.

The bell on the coffee shop door chimed as someone opened it and out of the corner of his eye he saw Katniss step inside. His body immediately started to tingle like it always did whenever she appeared. It was like his senses became heightened and hyper aware of her when she was around. He could feel almost like an electric current running through his veins.

She approached the table a few minutes later with her own mug and said softly, “Hey Peeta. How are you doing?”

He was about to reply with a smile and his prepared front, ready to fake it, when he looked at her and read it all over her face: she knew about the split.

He sighed. He should’ve known Madge would open her mouth about it. It wasn’t exactly a state secret, but he would’ve liked a heads up that people knew. That Katniss knew.

“You know,” he said blankly. She hesitated and then replied, “Yeah. Madge and Gale told me. I’m really sorry.”

“Yeah...not exactly great news.”

He pondered it for a minute and then just decided to be honest. “Is it weird that I’m...almost relieved?” he said softly. “Kind of like a weight’s off my shoulders?”

He thought about the way Delly had looked at him that last day. How resentful she looked. He never wanted a woman to look at him that way again. Suddenly, he realized who he was saying this to, and jerked back. He shouldn’t be discussing such personal things with Katniss. “I mean - I don’t mean that, I-I just...just feel...fuck. I don’t fucking know.” he stuttered. “I don’t mean it like that. No one wants their marriage to fail. I just tried for so long to make her happy but nothing seemed to make her happy. Or I never seemed to get it right. Could never get it right for years.”

He felt so defeated. But he didn’t want to talk about this with Katniss. Didn’t want her to think he was pathetic or a failure. Even though he felt like he was both. He was about to change the subject when she spoke up.

“Peeta...it could have been four years or forty years, it doesn’t matter. If it’s not right, it’s never going to be right. It doesn’t matter how much time you dedicate. Some things just aren’t meant to be. You shouldn’t have to try so hard in a relationship. Yeah, they take work, but not that much work. Not that much grief.” He watched her as she continued, entranced by her words.

“It should be...effortless, in some ways. Like when you meet someone, and you click, and it’s like… ‘oh. It’s you. There you are.’ Like you’ve been waiting for them this whole time and didn’t even realize it.”

Peeta stared at her, frozen at the words that seemed to tumble from her mouth. The click she spoke about. Oh, it’s you. It’s...you.

Like you’ve been waiting for them this whole time and didn’t even realize it.

Well, he realized it now. He still liked her. The pull he’d felt all those years ago to Katniss Everdeen was back. As much as he forced himself to try and forget about her, being around her the past few months had dragged those feelings right back up. Oh.

“Oh.” He hadn’t realized he’d said the word out loud. And that he’d been staring at her this whole time. He briefly watched as her eyes left his and flickered down to his mouth. Woah. What was that? Was she…?

Katniss coughed lightly and said quickly, “well, like I said: some things aren’t meant to be, no matter how hard you try. As shitty as this is, and as much as I’m sure it’s going to be difficult to work through, maybe this is the start of a new chapter for you. Where you can figure out...what makes you happy, without having to focus so much on making someone else happy. Besides Connor. Take some time to figure out what you really want.”

What he really wanted. What did he want? Right now...he could finally admit to himself that he wanted what was right in front of him. He wanted...her. He realized that the split from Delly meant that he was...free. He wasn’t elated by that, but it did make him realize that he was essentially on his own, once the paperwork went through.

What did he want?

“Yeah...what I really want.” Possibilities and future scenarios began to run through his mind. He didn’t realize he’d been staring at her, lost in thought, until she spoke again.

“Um, maybe we should take a look at this menu, hey? See what you’re thinking for it?”

Peeta was jerked from his reverie. Woah. Slow down. Collect yourself. Get it together. You literally just separated from your wife like three weeks ago. Calm down.

“Yes, of course. Um, there’s a few different options we could go with, like having a savoury package and a sweet package. I was thinking of a herbed goat cheese biscuit for one, but also…”

He pressed on, determined to push his earlier daydreams aside and focus on the task at hand. She seemed to space out for a minute and then made some comment about being concerned about keeping the hot items warm because it was cold in the winter, which made him laugh harder than he had in months.

When they had finalized everything, Katniss made to leave, saying something about another meeting. Peeta was reluctant, but he knew he had to get back to the bakery anyway. He stood up to pull his coat on as she thanked him again, when suddenly, she reached up and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

He froze.

It was the first time they’d ever hugged. Katniss Everdeen had her arms around him. Katniss was touching him. He couldn’t let this moment pass him by.

He stiffly moved his arms around her and felt her warmth underneath his hands. He took a deep breath and inhaled. Fresh linen. Sandalwood. Vanilla. She smelled heavenly. He exhaled slowly and tightened his grip on her waist. He could feel her slight curves as he breathed in again and felt the electricity buzz through him even stronger. He could also feel the stress he’d been holding onto for so many months start to slowly pour out of him. It was incredible what a simple hug could do. But this wasn’t a simple hug. Maybe it had to do with whom he was hugging.

This was a turning point and he knew it. He was a goner.

~*~*~*~*~*~

#oh it's you #bethpeaches123 writes #oh it's you outtake #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #the hunger games #everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlark fanfic #mrspeetamellark

[ellanainthetardis]

Let the 75th Hunger Games begin! I hope you enjoy them more than Haymitch does :p

|FF] or [ao3]

Chapter 27 : Slow And Steady Wins The Race

His own reflection was staring back at him a hundred times over.

There was nothing else.

Haymitch was trapped in a circle of mirrors and all he could see was his own face, his own body, distorted in a thousand of weird shapes…

He was so surprised and disoriented he almost stepped back, almost tripped… He steadied himself at the last second, before he could fall off the platform, before…

There was an explosion to his left.

A detonation coupled with the sound of shattered glass.

Someone had left the platform before Claudius Templesmith could give the signal. Haymitch’s ears were ringing – from the sound of the blast or from fear, he wasn’t quite sure – but he forced himself to focus.

The mirrors ran high to a white ceiling. That was unusual, he could only remember one Game that had taken place indoor. A castle-like arena that hadn’t been that popular.

There was no point trapping tributes in a circle of mirrors. They weren’t just mirrors, he deduced, they were walls, which meant there must have been a Cornucopia somewhere, probably at the center of what he suspected to be a maze.

“Ladies and Gentlemen…” Templesmith’s booming voice joyfully exclaimed. “Let the Seventy-Fifth Hunger Games begin. And may the odds be ever in your favor!”

The cannon boomed twice.

Once to launch the Games and once to mark the death of whoever had stepped off the platform too soon. His money was on Woof. Poor guy.

Sympathy wasn’t at the forefront of his mind when he stepped forward, hands outstretched, feeling around for a mirror that wasn’t a mirror. He needed to find Katniss or the Cornucopia before the Careers did. Preferably both.

If the arena was an indoor one, they would need water and food because there would be no hunting. Tributes had starved last time.

The glass was cool under his palms. He fought the feeling of claustrophobia, pushed it at the back of his mind.

There was a way out.

There had to be a way out.

Eventually, his hand found emptiness and he stepped forward. He tried to keep to the left, to where the explosion had come from, hoping he would be able to see more clearly in a field of shattered glass.

It was slow progress and it was frustrating.

He heard other people grunt in annoyance or hitting glass but he couldn’t tell if they were close or far. He caught glimpses of their distorted reflections sometimes. Enobaria, once. Mags too.

Eventually, he stumbled on another empty platform. Or maybe it was his he had circled back to. It was impossible to tell.

Someone screamed in rage somewhere. The sound was followed by broken glass. It was soon echoed in different directions and Haymitch cursed and kicked one of the mirrors to his left himself. It was a method like another, after all.

Shards flew everywhere, nicking his skin, clearly designed to hurt when shattered. And, more dangerous, the piece of mirror attached to the ceiling came down like a guillotine. He avoided it but barely.

Too dangerous.

Breaking glass wouldn’t work so he came back to his initial plan and felt around for a path.

Slow and steady wins the race.

What an idiotic saying.

After a while, something odd caught his eyes in the mirrors on his left side and he tried to follow that lead until he stumbled out in a sort of… It was like a clearing of shattered glass. A nice circle of broken mirrors. The smell of burned flesh made him gag and he tried not to look at the body parts scattered here and there. He crushed the glass under his boots as he took advantage of the absence of mirrors to wander deeper in the maze.

After five minutes, he saw a flash of gold.

Cornucopia.

The reflections were misleading but if you remained calm and thought… Ignoring the increasingly frustrated shouts from someone he suspected to be Brutus, Haymitch went on. Every time he lost sight of the gold, he retraced his own steps, searched for another path…

After what felt like hours but couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes, he found the center of the maze.

The Cornucopia wasn’t as big as usual and it was full of weapons, not food or water bottles – which told him there must be access to that somewhere else in that place.

It wasn’t what caught his eyes though.

A few people had beaten him there and there would probably be a bloodbath after all.

Tilly Johnson, Five’s female victor, lied on her back, open brown eyes staring into the emptiness, in a puddle of blood.

Two people were fighting on the other side of the Cornucopia. There were grunts and the unmistakable sounds of punches being thrown. It wasn’t until he heard Katniss’ sharp cry that he rushed forward though, rounding the golden thing in time to see Beetee dart back into the maze, dragging Wiress by the hand.

They weren’t Katniss’ problem though.

Finnick was.

He saw everything but barely registered any of it as he ran.

The boy had found a trident, his weapon of choice, the one that had made him famous… Finnick had a gash on the forehead and Katniss’ lip was split. Four’s victor was making the trident twirl in front of him in a threatening manner. Three blows were all it took. Her stomach, her knee, and her head. She fell on her back, exposed and defenseless.

Haymitch was too far.

Too far.

“I’m sorry.” Finnick said when he lifted his weapon over his head, clearly intending to stab her with it.

Haymitch tackled the boy hard. The trident flew away and clattered on the floor. They struggled for a moment but Haymitch was on top and he was heavier. It wasn’t that hard to pin the kid down…

“Don’t you fucking…” he warned, shaking the boy once. “Just go your own way and we…”

He heard the hissing sound and then Finnick grew limp.

Haymitch stared, shocked, at the arrow jutting out from the boy’s eye.

“Come on.” Katniss said, her tone flat. “Grab something. We need to get out of here.”

But he couldn’t move.

The air smelt of blood and death.

“Haymitch!” she insisted. She grabbed his arm, struggled to haul him to his feet. He kept staring at the body of Four’s victor. “Snap out of it! We don’t have time.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” he said at last. “He…”

“He was going to kill me and he would have killed you.” she cut him off. “You know that. It’s the Hunger Games. Come on.”

She was right. He knew she was right. But…

His hands were shaking so much, he could barely hold the knife she thrust his way. She kept looting everything useful she could find, keeping her bow at the ready. The quiver full of arrows hung from her back and he tried not to wince when she got her arrow back from Finnick’s body. She strapped two knives to her ankles and wedged a cutlass in her belt.

The sounds of shattering glass were coming closer and Haymitch did snap out of it then, realizing they only had minutes before a Career broke his way to them.

He grabbed a cutlass too and as many knives as he could carry. Some were light, ideal for tossing, but his fingers closed on a sturdy handle and it was that one he kept in his fist, trying to get as tight a grip on it as he could.

“No water, no food.” Katniss cursed, her eyes darting in the direction of the broken glass. “We’ll figure it out. Let’s go.”

There was no other way out but to dive back in the maze.

Katniss’ method was similar to the one he had used. She tried to catch sight of something that could be used as a landmark and pushed her way forward, going back when she lost it. It was a patience game. One that had them both on edge but that was necessary. They walked around in circles. Sounds of fighting floated to them now and then. Every time it got too loud, they switched directions – the louder it got, the nearer they were to the center, they figured.

They moved in silence, sticking close to each other so they wouldn’t lose the other in their ever changing reflections. Eventually, they caught a glimpse of something that looked like a door.

It took them fifteen minutes to find the right path that led to it.

They exchanged a look before Haymitch pushed it open, not quite sure what to expect.

“Well, shit.” he spat, once he caught sight of the room the door led to.

“What?” Katniss frowned, peeking over his shoulder. It was a big dining room. Framed paintings on the walls, a huge rectangular mahogany table in the middle with expensive chairs all around, big windows with heavy blue curtains, dressers full of delicate plates in the corner, sculptures and luxurious potted plants. There were two doors at the other side of the room. “Where the fuck are we?”

“The Presidential Mansion.” he offered without a single hesitation.

“What?” she asked again.

“Replica, I guess.” he frowned. He looked back at the maze thoughtfully. “Makes this the library.”

It made sense. It was big enough to welcome a maze. Well… The ballroom was too, he supposed, but the ballroom was on the ground floor and that would have been too easy.  

“You know the layout?” she enquired, taking that in stride.

“Pretty much, yeah.” he shrugged. He was about to take a step in the dining room when he froze. He wasn’t sure what had alarmed him until he realized… The floor should have been gleaming floorboards, not… cobblestones. And the way some of them were jutting out a little… “Anything looks odd to you?”

She crouched to take a closer look and then made a face. “Mines?”

“The flat ones or the others?” There was no way to tell.

Katniss was more interested in the windows. “The arena can’t just be the mansion. It’s too small. There must be a way out. Something else outside.”

“Food and water.” he nodded.

“If it fails we can try the kitchens.” she suggested.

He snorted. He didn’t relax but he took a deep breath and considered the problem at hand. Someone would show up sooner or later. The maze was close range, Katniss’ bow wouldn’t be of much use and it would fall on him to protect them.

He really wanted to avoid that.

“We could try to find another room.” she sighed. “There must be several entrances to the library if it’s that huge.”

“Wanna bet the whole place’s booby-trapped?” he countered, shaking his head. “Okay. Let’s be smart.” He unstrapped one of his knives and took the time to calculate before tossing it on one of the stones that was jutting out. The explosion was small and localized, weak enough not to trigger a chain reaction but strong enough to take off a foot or a leg. “Better keep to the flat ones.”

Assuming the Gamemakers were playing fair and the mines weren’t randomly scattered around…

“Where do those doors lead to?” she asked, stepping around him to go first.

“If we’re aiming for the gardens, we want the left one.” he said, pointing it out. “Gives out on a corridor.”

“And then?” she insisted, jumping from one flat stone to the next.

It was a lot more difficult for him. He didn’t have her stealth and he was heavier. The stones were narrow.

“Then we go right until we find the stairs. One floor down, two doors on the left, through the other dining room to the patio.” he explained.

“How do you know this place so well?” she frowned. “The tour Effie gave us was short.”

“Yeah, well… I’ve been here a lot.” he retorted. He almost lost his balance and grabbed the huge table to steady himself. “Library’s a good place to hide. Or to bring a lady if you want some alone time with her.”

Katniss shot him a disgusted look that he answered with a wink.

It wasn’t difficult to imagine Effie huffing and stomping her foot in annoyance in front of her screen. Or was she still in the launch room? How much time had passed since the first cannon had boomed? He chased her away from his mind.

Still, it was lucky they had sneaked out of boring parties so often.

They made it out and into the corridor eventually. In one piece.

It was too quiet.

Where were Beetee and Wiress? Would they ambush them? Three’s victors’ fighting style were deadly traps and their surroundings were ideal for that. He wasn’t the only victor who knew the Mansion well enough to take advantage of it.

“Be careful.” he told her, even if it wasn’t unnecessary.

Katniss kept her bow ready and he clutched his knife.

He led the way to the stairs without them encountering any trouble. The staircase was polished as always, empty, and far from inviting.

“Too easy.” she commented.

He could only nod.

They went down the stairs carefully, one step at a time, attentive to everything.

When a piece of wood gave in under Katniss’ boot, they both ducked at the same time, narrowly avoiding the huge blade that swayed above them. It hung there for a second and then slowly went back in the ceiling in a clogging noise, ready for its next victim.

Haymitch let out a deep long breath.

“See, I’m not sure I didn’t like the classic setting better.” he muttered.

“On the bright side, Brutus is never getting out of here alive.” Katniss mocked.

“Depends if Enobaria finds him.” he objected. “She’s not stupid.”

They kept close to the wall without discussing it, avoiding the purple carpet that wasn’t wide enough for the whole corridor. They preferred to step on the narrow path they could see. Who knew what was hiding under the rug.

There was a loud thud upstairs followed by screams of agony. They abruptly stopped and a cannon boomed. It occurred to him, then, that it had been a while since the last one.

“Bloodbath must be over.” he commented. “We need to hurry.”

If there was a trap in the downstairs dining room, they managed to avoid triggering it. They found the door to the gardens and stepped outside…

Only to freeze.

“What the…” Katniss swore, letting her sentence trail off.

Haymitch shared the feeling wholeheartedly.

The Mansion was at the center of the arena, that much was clear. But the arena itself…

He had expected gardens, woods… something.

Instead, what was surrounding them was a clash of landscapes that didn’t match or blend together. It looked like the drawing of a small child, a weird distorted collage. It was as if someone had jammed together portions of different arenas. To the left, there were cotton fields that gave on wheat fields that abruptly ended on flat arid plains with reddish mountains looming in the distance and a few dark shapes that might or might not be cows or bulls or something like that…

They walked around the Mansion in silence, taking in their surroundings. The plains morphed into orchards that abruptly morphed into more familiar woods and mountain-like ground with dark openings that seemed to give into undergrounds caves. Or mines.

Haymitch shook his head when his brain finally caught up.

The next portion looked like a ant hill with holes leading down. He was ready to bet those caves were full of gems and diamonds. It gave on stone quarries where dust seemed to perpetually float in the air. The next part… He had no idea what it was. A factory? A lab? A huge round building with a glass ceiling that definitely belonged in District Three. Then a beach. Water as far as the eye could see, waves crashing on the shore… Then a dam that made the junction between the salty water and an abandoned railway full of rails, dust and shipping crates. More woods, towering trees that shot toward the sky, and they were back to the cotton fields.

“It’s huge.” Katniss commented eventually, eyes wide. “Have you ever seen an arena that huge?”

“It’s Panem.” he said in case she really hadn’t figured it out. “The arena’s Panem.”

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #into that good night

[ellanainthetardis]

It’s announcement day! Hope you enjoy this chapter! Let me know!

[ff] or (ao3]

Chapter 12 :  A True Victor

His ears kept ringing long after Snow’s face had disappeared from the screen.

His hand was empty of the glass he had just been holding and he realized, belatedly, that he had thrown it at the wall, missing the screen by two inches. It laid, shattered, on the floor.

Shattered.

Someone laughed and it took him a few minutes to understand it was him. He laughed until his side hurt and tears ran down his face.

And, then, abruptly, as quickly as it had started, the laughter stopped.

On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors.

He wanted to throw up.

He bowed down in two and took long deep breaths that did nothing for the anarchic beating of his heart or for the nausea.

Cannot overcome the power of the Capitol.

This was Snow’s revenge. This was why Haymitch was still alive when Cinna was dead. It wouldn’t be just Haymitch. It would be Katniss too. And enough of the victors to remind them all of where they stood in the food chain. It was a direct message to the Districts. The Capitol could kill their champions. It was…

It was the perfect answer to a failed coup.

Obvious enough for those who knew, not open enough to trigger reactions from those who didn’t.

Most District people would be relieved even. It meant that they didn’t need to fear for their children that year. He might be able to find comfort in that small mercy later on. For now…

For now, he couldn’t quite process it.  

Reaped from their existing pool of victors…

Katniss, for sure.

But not only.

Friends.

Twelve was the only District with so few victors but there were others… How many were there in Eleven, for instance? Five? Two of them being elderly. It didn’t bode well for his best friend either. And even if Chaff managed to slip through… He knew all the victors. Some better than others, true, but he knew them all. Even the Careers… Some of them he had no sympathy for, others he liked to think he was on friendly terms with.

He knew those people.

Every single one of them.

How fucked up was this?

Was it Heavensbee’s idea? Was that the suggestion that had convinced Snow of his loyalty and had saved his head? Tossing the victors back in their personal hell?

The arena.

The arena and its luring treacherous beauty. The emerald green grass, the deep blue water, the sweet smelling colorful flowers… The candy pink birds. Maysilee choking on her own blood. The volcano erupting in a rain of lava, the smell of sulphur in the air. Nya and her missing eye chasing after him to finish him, to win. The gut wrenching fear in the launching pod. The voice in his head pushing him on, reminding him that Hayden and his mother were waiting for him at home, that they would eventually starve if he died there, that Mabel would be there to welcome him back with her soft lips and her secretive smile. The voice telling him it was all worth it. Lives taken. Lives lost. All worth it for the certainty of holding all of them in his arms again, to melt in their embrace, to hear them say they loved him again.

A lie.

All a lie.

A trap.

Couldn’t go back.

Wouldn’t go back.

Fear was paralyzing.

He was sixteen again.

Listening to his name ringing out in the Square, last to be called by the Capitol clown on the stage. Being nudged forward by his friend because he was taking too long to move and it wouldn’t look good, it never looked good when they tried to run and the Peacekeepers had to chase after them. Pushed in that room in the Justice Building, intimidated by the place despite himself because he had lived his whole life in the Seam and this was the wealthy part of town. Trying to look strong for his mother, for his brother… Losing it with Mabel because she wasn’t just his girl but his best friend, had been since they had learned to talk, and he was freaking out. The words she had murmured in his ear until he had calmed down, learned how to breathe normally again, words he couldn’t remember at all even though their rhythm was branded in his memory like a distorted melody.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Words he had offered to all of them like a confident gift, a promise.

He was sixteen again.

He was sixteen again and his ears were ringing…

“Haymitch.”

His name was quiet and it made the ringing stop. He looked up at the boy standing on his living-room’s threshold. Peeta was paler than usual but there was a determined tightness to the line of his mouth, a tension in his shoulders.

And suddenly Haymitch was back to himself. If felt a lot like falling. He fell through memories that seemed so real he could almost touch them and back to his tired weakened body.

A forty year old man who was responsible for two kids and couldn’t afford to be paralyzed by fear.

“We need to talk.” Peeta declared, all tough, just like when he had confessed his feelings the year before, before the interviews, and had told him he intended to see Katniss out of that arena.

Peeta was the best of them. Haymitch had always known that.  

“Yeah.” he said. His voice sounded rough, raw, to his own ears and he cleared his throat. “I guess we do.”

He gestured at the armchair but Peeta declined with a shake of his head. The boy took a few steps toward the fireplace and remained there, in the middle of the room, a commanding presence. The charisma was good, Haymitch noted, Effie could work with that.

“We’re going to make sure Katniss wins this.” the boy said.

No surprise there.

No question either.

“Alright.” he agreed.

He was a bit impressed with himself for not even hesitating. He had thought his own survival instinct was stronger than that. But maybe he had developed another instinct in the last year. An even stronger one. An instinct that commanded him to save those kids by any mean necessary.  

“Well, that was easy.” Peeta said. The boy let out half a bitter chuckle. “I thought you would fight me at least a little about it first.”

“What’s there to fight about?” He opened his arms wide and let them fall back to his side. “We get Katniss out. You two crazy kids can have a very long life together. Pretty sure she doesn’t want kids of her own but maybe if you ever get a dog you can name it after me. That’ll make for a good joke, too. Caesar will love that. It’s important to be funny, you know. Helps with sponsors.”  He licked his lips and ran his fingers through his hair. “Fuck, I need a drink.” This was a lot to take in without the help of alcohol. His hands were shaking but he forced himself to slouch further in the couch instead of pacing the room like he wanted to, look casual. Detached. Like this was no big deal. “We’re done? ‘Cause I’d like to do some cursing in peace now.”

Peeta was frowning. “You’re not going. I’m going.”  

“Ah. That fight.” he snorted, studying him. He understood the projected confidence and determination better now. Peeta wasn’t there to ask him to die. Of course not. It would have been too easy. “No, kid.”

“You owe me.” the boy snapped. “You chose Katniss last year so you owe me. And that’s what I want. I will go in there and…”

“And get yourself killed for her?” he scoffed. “I’m curious. What’s the plan here? You die so she doesn’t have to marry you and she’s free to be with that other boy she doesn’t even know she actually likes? Or you hope that, then, she’s finally gonna understand that you’re the good guy? ‘Cause that’s stupid. Either way? You’re gonna be very dead and she’s gonna be very unhappy.”

“You think I want to die? I just want her to live!” the kid shouted, eyes suddenly brighter. He clenched his jaw and forced his voice down. “I can help her win.”

“Sure, you can. And you will.” he shrugged. “Out there. You’re gonna charm the pants off sponsors – not literally if possible – and you’re gonna make sure she’s got everything she needs to live another day.”

“Oh, come on, Haymitch!” Peeta snapped. “Let’s not pretend you care for me enough to volunteer if…”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” he spat. “I’ll volunteer. And I’ll punch you if you try to do the same thing. Don’t think I won’t.” They glared at each other until he shook his head. “You want to save Katniss. I can save you both. That’s the way to go.”

“No.” the boy protested. “If I go in there, I can make sure…”

He was out of the couch in a flash, not as swiftly as he would have liked but faster than Peeta had been expecting. He grabbed the kid’s arm and gave it a firm shake.

“Listen to me.” he hissed. “Fucking listen to what I’m saying. There won’t be any more tricks. There won’t be any miraculous save. Only one person is coming out of that arena and if you think for one fucking second I’m gonna stand by and let both of you go in when I can stop it…” It wasn’t convincing the boy. Not at all. He could read it on his face, plain as day, set in his damned stubbornness, his damned tendency at playing the knight in shining armor. Haymitch would never be much of a knight but he could probably be a good rook – knock everyone out of the way, clear a path, protect Katniss long enough for her to cross the chessboard. “I won’t be any help out there. Remember Cinna and Portia’s accident? I got out of that one easy, you hear what I’m saying?” He gave him another shake. “I’m blown in the Capitol for sure. Doesn’t matter how they’ll do it but I’m pretty sure no sponsor will deal with me. I’ll be useless, boy. That’s my accident. I get to watch you die.”

Peeta was staring straight into his eyes, searching for the lies, always mistrustful because he and Katniss had hidden too much.

“You don’t know…” the boy argued, a touch less confident.

It was all Haymitch needed. An in.

“Yeah, I do.” he chuckled. It almost sounded hysterical. He adjusted his grip on the boy’s arm, relaxed his fingers enough that they wouldn’t leave bruises. “I fucking do.”

“Even so…” Peeta shook his head. “I don’t know anything about mentoring. Even if…”

“Effie will take care of the practical stuff.” he cut him off. “Hell, she’s better at mentoring than I am. She practically got the two of you out by herself last year.” That was a gross exaggeration. But Effie was good. And she could do this. She would do this. “You just need to trust her and follow her lead. You’re half of the star-crossed lovers. Sponsors are gonna eat in your hand. They’re all gonna be rooting for you.”

“If I go in, I can protect her.” the boy pleaded.

“You think I wouldn’t have her back?” he sneered. “You think I’d turn on her?”

Peeta didn’t answer at once and it was almost insulting. Haymitch dropped his hands and stepped back, his sneer deepening. He was a despicable man on a lot of accounts. But he would have never…

“No.” the kid said quietly. “But I’m stronger.”

He hadn’t just spent weeks in withdrawals, he meant.

Although Haymitch supposed that had been a blessing in disguise. Withdrawals in an arena… That wouldn’t have been fun. And it would have made him an amusing spectacle for the wolves. He would have hated that. He had been a joke for most of his life, he hoped his death would carry a little more meaning than that.

Not that there was ever any meaning in death.

“You’re missing a leg.” he reminded him. He didn’t feel bad about the flash of pain and shame that passed on the boy’s face. It was a fact. The crude and honest truth. And speaking of truths… “You know what’s going to happen, kid? You’re gonna volunteer, you’re gonna go into that arena and she’s gonna realize she loves you at the worst possible moment.”

“Yeah, that’s going to happen.” Peeta scowled.

“Yeah. It will.” he laughed bitterly. “’Cause that’s the kind of person she is. It’s the kind of things she’ll figure out too late.” A bit like when he had held Effie until dawn on the last night of the Tour. A bit like… He rubbed his face. “You know the worst? It’s gonna make the Capitol’s day too. Tragic end to a tragic love story. You go in there and you die, you let them win.”

“I wanted to be more than a piece in their game.” the boy whispered sadly.

“Then be more.” he almost begged.

“If I let you go in there for me, they win too.” Peeta countered. “I let them win.”

“No.” he objected. “’Cause this Quell… That’s my game. Not yours. It’s my own fucking fault. I tried…” He let his sentence trail off and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. You said I owe you. I do. I chose her last year, I’m choosing both of you this year.”

“Haymitch…” the kid said, his voice breaking a little.

It was tempting and the boy was tempted.

Haymitch understood that very well because he was tempted to. Accept the teenager’s offer, promise to stay out of the arena whatever happened… If he had thought for one second that there was any hope of getting both of them out of there, if he had thought for one second that he would have been more useful out there… If there had been any guarantee…

If Thirteen hadn’t left them all to hang…

“You know what the smart thing to do is, Peeta.” he insisted. “And you know what Katniss is gonna say once she pulls her head out of her ass. How long do you think before she gets here and asks me to die for you?”

“She won’t.” the boy denied.

“Wanna bet?” he snorted but he wasn’t amused and he didn’t pretend to be for long. “I’m an old man. Whatever shitty life I had is behind me.”

Peeta ran both his hands in his hair and tugged a little at the roots, clearly distressed. “It’s not fair. I can’t ask you…”

“You’re not asking.” Haymitch cut him off. “You’re not asking and you’re not carrying that guilt. My choice.” The boy stared at him, breathing hard, so Haymitch went on. “We need you to be out there. For Katniss. That’s the best way you can protect her.”

Peeta turned around and paced back and forth, retracing the path from the couch to the bookshelf a few times. “What about Effie?”

The question took him a little aback. “Told you. She’s the best. She can…”

“That’s not what I mean.” the boy interrupted him, not unkindly. “You know what I mean.”

What about Effie?

He felt a pang of sadness only thinking about her. What she would have to go through… It was hard for her when it was children she had only known for two weeks. Watching friends go in there… Watching him…

Oh, it would kill her.

Just like it would have killed him if he had been staying behind.

But she would do her job and she would do it well. He trusted her implicitly. She was the best escort out there and everyone knew it. Every other victor had put a request for her at one point or another. The only reason she was still in Twelve was that she was the only one who had ever been able to talk some sense into him and make him somehow behave.

“Effie’ll put Katniss first.” he promised. “She…” He rolled his eyes. “Do I really need to spell this out, boy? We care about the two of you in case you didn’t notice. Both of us. We have our priorities straight.”

Peeta stopped pacing to study him once more, wary. “She’s your…” His sentence was left in suspension either out of tact or because he wasn’t sure what term to use. The boy cleared his throat and averted his eyes. “Are you sure you’re ready to…”

He appreciated what the kid was trying to say, to ask, but it was a pointless line of enquiries.

“She’s Capitol.” he said quietly.

“What does it have to do with anything?” Peeta scoffed. “It’s Effie. She’s much more than just her citizenship. She’s…”

“Capitol.” he finished before the teenager could launch into a speech on her qualities and flaws. He was intimately acquainted with each and every one of them. “I know everything’s about love at your age but for some people sex is just sex. It’s just a fling. Could never be anything but that.”

They didn’t belong in the same world.

And it would have been a selfish waste to save his own skin for something that had been doomed from the start.

Peeta nodded thoughtfully – not really convinced, he suspected, but maybe understanding the lie was a necessary one.

He and Effie had no future whatsoever.

The boy swallowed hard. “Are you sure?”

“That I want to go back to an arena?” he mocked. “What kind of fucking stupid question is that?”  

“That you want to die for me.” Peeta clarified. “For Katniss.”

He didn’t let himself hesitate. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.”

The boy slouched a little, as if a weight had just settled on his shoulders. He looked older all of a sudden, older and exhausted. Lost.

A true victor.

Haymitch had won the argument but he found no joy in it. He wasn’t twisted enough for that.

“Go home.” he told the kid. “Get some rest.”

“What are you going to do?” Peeta asked in a small voice. That was a very good question but the sharp ringing of the phone answered that for him. The boy flashed him a small sad smile. “Tell her hi for me.”

Haymitch waited until the boy had slipped through the backdoor to put his shaking hand on the phone. He took a deep breath before answering. “Took you long enough, sweetheart.”

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #into that good night