The Reaping

District 12 has quite the sizable population spread out between the Seam and the merchant section as well as other areas set aside for the land dedicated to the coal industry. Still, if one heads into a specific part of town they would find only one house occupied. Victors' Village has only had two occupied houses since it was built, and only one remained occupied now. The entire space filled with luxurious houses was eerily quiet compared to bustling that would be taking place down at the Hob right about now.

A television hanging against the wall in the single occupied house was on, where a blonde-haired man approaching his 30s was sitting on the couch in this den area while watching the show. The image on the screen was showing a boy and girl standing on a stage not much different from the one being put together in front of the Justice Building of District 12 right now. Standing just behind them was a pale woman in a modest (for Capitol styles) pale blue floor length gown who was encouraging the two to shake hands. The two tributes, both looking like deer caught in headlights, stiffly turned and shook the other's hand. As they were ushered into the Justice Building behind them by a group of Peacekeepers, the image shrunk down to fit in the bottom left corner of the screen and an announcer took control of the screen.

"Well folks, those were the tributes from District 3! We wish the two of them the best of luck. We'll bring you to District 4 for the selection of their tributes for the 63rd annual Hunger Games in just a few moments. Now, a word from President Snow."

As the camera cut to a white-haired gentlemen in a plain black business with a rose pinned to his shirt, Haymitch scoffed and downed the glass of wine he had been holding while watching The Reaping of District 3. He had no particular interest in anything that man had to say, not after what he did. It may have been well over a decade, but Haymitch would never forgive that man for destroying everything he cared about. Well…almost everything…

"Dad…?" A soft voice came from the stairs. Haymitch turned to see a young girl of twelve standing on the bottom step. She was wearing a soft pink dress with her blonde hair draped over her two shoulders and her piercing blue eyes staring at him. "Could you help me braid my hair?"

"Of course, sweetheart," Haymitch gestured for her to come join him on the couch. The young girl bounded over to her father, picking up the decorative pillow in the spot she was about to take before sitting down next to her father and holding it in her lap. "Just simple braids?"

"Yes, please," the girl, who went by Katarina, smiled up at him in that way that most girls did when they had their father wrapped around their little finger. Haymitch returned her smile, taking two ribbons that matched her dress perfectly that he knew was to hold her hair in place and set to work on attempting to braid her hair. It was difficult for him, he had only begun to help her try things with her hair in recent years, and he messed up a few times which forced him to restart the braid on the right side of her head.

As he worked with his daughter's hair, he let his mind wander. To Haymitch this little girl sitting beside him was his whole life. He wasn't sure what he would be doing right now if he didn't have her. He would probably be drinking a lot more than a glass of wine here and there throughout the day and then a mug or two of the hard stuff after she went to bed. As much as he wanted to drown out the memories of the past that tormented him, he never wanted his daughter to see him drunk.

He thought back a few years as he undid some of the braid because of a mistake. He found it was amazing to know that this girl was able to sit here with him because of one night, one act of pure love. When he had returned to District 12 as the victor of the 50th Hunger Games, the second Quarter Quell, he hadn't been able to hold back any of his emotions in the beginning. The Capitol devoured his tearful reunion with his family and his beloved. Yet that reunion hadn't lasted long. Not even a month after his return from the Capitol he had been whisked away on a Victory Tour that would last so much longer than the typical ones just because he had come out on top of a Quarter Quell. The Capitol might have seen it as a cause for celebration, but Haymitch had only felt as if President Snow had been rubbing him into the faces of the other districts who had lost not two but four young people to the Hunger Games that year. He had returned almost a year later, approaching the time of the next Reaping, to find his family and his beloved had been murdered for something he had done during the Games. Haymitch had been crushed, but when the small bundle wrapped in pink had been pressed into his hands by some apothecary owner he knew he had to find a way to cope with the loss.

Haymitch finally tied the first pink ribbon around the end of the braid. "One side done," he reported in an effort to be cheerful. Despite the light tone in his voice the girl was staring at the television, fear gripping her as she hugged the throw pillow tightly to her chest. Haymitch glanced at the image on the screen to see what had frightened her.

The District 4 Reaping was showing, the female tribute had already been chosen but there was apparently an issue with deciding the male tribute. A brawl had broken out between a few of the older boys despite all the rules in place to prevent this kind of thing when volunteers were accepted. Even the Peacekeepers were doing nothing to try to stop the fight, only laughing as the fight narrowed to two determined youths wrestling each other for the spot. The fight ended when one of the boys, a tall and muscular 18-year old, slammed his opponents head into the ground hard enough to not only knock the boy out but to draw blood as well. The boy stood, raising a hand in victory and declaring himself to be the volunteer from his District to the audience who rewarded him with applause while the other boy was dragged away by Peacekeepers for medical attention.

"You don't need to watch this," Haymitch said, swiftly grabbing up the remote and turning the television off. He had done his best to keep his daughter away from anything related to the Games but he couldn't do that anymore. She had turned twelve a few months ago, today would be her first time in the pool for the Reaping.

"…What if I get picked today?" Her voice was small but her eyes were wide as she looked up at her father, clearly frightened by the idea that there was even the remote possibility she could end up in the same space as that boy.

"Hey, Kat," Haymitch put an arm around her shoulder to comfort her. "This is your first Reaping. You haven't had to take out any rations so your name is only in there the one time. There are kids in the district who have been putting their names in extra times for food since they were your age. You won't get picked."

Katarina considered this for a moment, "But…there's still a chance I could get picked…right?"

"There's always a chance," Haymitch said hesitantly, "But it's a very small chance. You don't need to worry." Haymitch pulled the girl into a tight hug. "You're not going t get picked today." He stated again firmly to reassure her. He felt her nod against his shoulder. He supposed everyone felt like this at their first Reaping. How he wished he could spare her from this, to keep her away from anything involving the Games in even the slightest way, but he couldn't. Not attending the Reaping would mean imprisonment, a highly unpleasant experience for anyone, and Haymitch was certainly not going to give the Capitol any opportunities to take his little girl away from him.

"It's almost time," Katarina pointed out.

Haymitch glanced at the clock on the wall. She was right, it was close to one and people would start heading for the Justice Building soon. "Well, we better finish your hair then." He said, moving to a better position where he could braid the hair set aside on her left.

Haymitch had left Katarina at the check-in point for the other children who were heading in to the Reaping. As a previous victor, he had to sit up on the stage that had been erected this morning. Up there every person here in District 12, the Capitol, and anyone else who had their televisions on could watch every move he made. Under other circumstances, he probably wouldn't have cared enough to think about how many people were watching him, but with Katarina to look after he was careful about anything he did in front of any other people. Better to sit quiet and take no risks at all.

As Haymitch climbed the stairs to the stage, he was greeted by a dark-skinned man dressed in a midnight blue suit that was quite plain considering he was clearly a Capitol person by his accent.

"Haymitch," the man said, extending a hand.

"Alistar," Haymitch replied, clasping the offered hand. While Haymitch generally disliked anything to do with the Games, this man he found to be okay. Alistar had been his own escort during the second Quarter Quell. He bore the man no grudge, and they had settled into somewhat of a friendship. Usually when an escort from a lower district came through with a winner they would be assigned to a more prominent district. However, no spots had opened for Alistar to take. Still, it was common knowledge that the man was looking forward to taking the place of the District 5 escort who would be retiring after this year's Games, something Alistar had confided in Haymitch two years ago.

"You ready for this year?" Alistar asked, looking out over the sea of potential tributes lining up in front of the square.

"As I'll ever be," Haymitch replied, moving to take his spot in one of the three open chairs on the stage. He looked out over the sea of children lining up in front of the stage, most of them with brown or black hair and olive skin but many had blonde hair and fair skin. He couldn't pick out Kat's head from where he sat. Normally he would just have to glance to the left of the stage to find her. The mayor's wife had previously offered to look after her during the Games so that Haymitch could reluctantly fulfill his duties as a previous victor. As Haymitch looked there now, he could see the mayor talking to his wife and a young girl of about five. The wife saw him looking in their direction and gave him a sympathetic look, and Haymitch quickly redirected his gaze out to the potential tributes. This year, his girl was sitting far in the back among other twelve year-olds, and every year she would move closer to the front of the stage as the odds became less in her favor.

Promptly at two, the mayor stepped up to the podium. Haymitch paid no attention as he talked about the history of Panem up through the Dark Days and the Treaty. It was the same talk he had heard every year of his life. Haymitch himself could probably give the same speech he had heard it so many times. Instead, he studied the faces of the young people in front of him. In the front were the eighteen year-olds, the people who were most likely to be chosen. None of them looked up to a competition as deadly as the Games, but then no one from District 12 ever did.

Haymitch heard his name and realized the mayor had just finished reading the list of victors from District 12. He waved off the applause he received from the crowd, he knew they were only doing it because they were required to and not because they were particularly proud he had won the Games. Now the mayor was introducing Alistar, who quickly approached the podium and greeted the district.

"Shall we ladies?" He asks the crowd before approaching the glass ball that held so many slips of paper. Haymitch straightened up a little. Even if he hated the Capitol and their Games, he still had a duty to the tribute whose name was about to be read off. Alistar picked out a name at random from the glass ball and walked back to the podium. He made his way back to the front of the podium and opened the slip of paper to read the name.

He hesitated before reading the name, and for the briefest moment his eyes slid towards Haymitch. It was for less than a second but Haymitch saw it. All of a sudden he felt a cold fear sink into his body. Alistar had hesitated, that more than likely meant he had recognized the name, and if he had glanced at Haymitch after that moment of hesitation…

"Katarina Abernathy," Alistar read the name off the paper, his voice was clear but there was no mistaking the hint of sadness and disbelief. The entire district seemed to settle into a state of shock, even the Peacekeepers glanced towards one another in confusion. Was it even possible for this to happen?

As he watched his daughter slowly and hesitantly make her way towards the stage, Haymitch suddenly found it difficult to breathe. This couldn't be happening, not to his little girl. This had to be a mistake… but somewhere in the back of his mind was a whisper of the word 'rigged'. Could it be? Could the Capitol have destroyed the rest of his family and left him with his child only to take her away from him? Before he knew it she was on stage, standing just a few feet from him. She looked so small and timid there in front of the crowd.

"Are there any volunteers to take the place of Miss Katarina Abernathy?" Alistar asked, directing his gaze to the grouping of girls of eligible age. Haymitch sat there, hoping with every fiber of his being any of those girls would take her place. He wouldn't pray for a volunteer, in his mind any god who might be there was far too cruel to let this happen. Yet as impossible as it was for his Kat's name to be drawn, it was equally impossible to expect a volunteer to take her place. Volunteers were rare in an outer district, especially District 12. Even families were hesitant to volunteer for each other.

"If there are no volunteers, we'll move on to the gentlemen," Alistar's eyes swept the crowd of females once more. He seemed to be drawing out the time to allow a volunteer to come forward. When none did, he crossed to the other glass ball and selected another slip of paper with another name.

Haymitch didn't hear the announcement of the boy's name. He barely registered the seventeen year old approaching the stage with black hair cropped short and blue-grey eyes already set on his fate. No, all of Haymitch's attention was on the girl whose back was still to him, watching the little trembles of fear that shook her body as everyone else watched the boy mount the stage. Volunteers were asked for again but again none came forward. Alistar presented the two as the tributes to District 12 and the cameras watching them, then encouraged the two to shake hands.

The anthem plays and as the tributes are forced to stand there in front of everyone, the mayor has already joined his wife and daughter and Haymitch has backed away quietly into the Justice Building. He waited as calmly as he could. Soon the Peacekeepers would bring both tributes to rooms here so that goodbyes could be said to anyone who would come. In the silence of the hallway, Haymitch displayed some of the anger that had taken the place of the fear that had gripped him. He punched the wall closest to him hard enough to leave a small dent, barely noticeable unless you looked close. Again he asked himself how this had happened, and again he heard that small whisper of 'rigged' in his mind.

The anthem ended, and almost immediately after the Peacekeepers approached with the two tributes. As they passed by Haymitch, he reached out and put a hand on his daughter's shoulder. He gave her a reassuring squeeze and for the first time took in the features of the boy's face. He looked like he had tried to wash but there was a layer of grime still on it. Blue-grey eyes were hard like steel as they observed his mentor. He had the look of resigned determination, knowing he was going to die but intending to take as many people down with him as he could.

"I'll see you both on the train," Haymitch said when he found his voice. He then removed his hand from Katarina's shoulder and allowed the Peacekeepers to finish escorting the two to their separate rooms to await goodbyes. No doubt the boy's family would visit him, but what about his Kat? Did she have friends from school who would visit her? Maybe the mayor and his wife would stop in after watching her for all these years?

Haymitch silently made his way to the train designated to take him, Alistar, and the two tributes to the Capitol. His mind was weighed down by one thought: How was he supposed to prepare his daughter for the Hunger Games?

A/N: So...what do you think? Good? Bad? So-so? Would you like to see more or do you think this is an absolutely horrid idea that should be discontinued? Reviews would be awesome because they are so encouraging!