Katniss watched as Haymitch filled his bag with more bottles. Was he not supposed to watch her? She had not forgotten the days where he would not wake up, and when he did, he was thrashing with his knife in hand. She remembered the trashed house, and now Hazelle was not here to clean up after him. Katniss made a promise to herself never to enter his home. Let him babysit her, but by no means would she any longer interfere with his wasteland of a house.

Haymitch noticed her edgy behavior and gave an irritated sigh, "I swear if it's the whole 'boy trouble' comment, you better suck it up. I won't be stuck here with some whiney—"

Katniss glared at him, "I wouldn't go there, Haymitch. Do you think for one second that I want to put up with this? Can you even guess what I'm going through right now?" Raising her voice slightly, "I just lost my whole family! I have nothing left!"

She watched as Haymitch turned three different shades of red as he took a swig from a bottle. Just what he needed to face District 12, she thought bitterly.

Haymitch began very quiet, very low. Spite made up for the volume, "Do you realize how lucky you are, sweetheart? Well, little Mockingjay, let me tell you: you had over half a year with your sister. You wanna know how long I had with my brother? Under. Two. Weeks." Although he had told her this before, he let it sink in for effect. "My girl? Two weeks. My mother? Two weeks. And what about you? Your precious little Peeta? Gale? Oh yeah, they're still here. Your mother? That's right, she alive, too!" he spat.

Katniss held her ground. He was still sober: she could see it in his eyes, but it was fading. With every sentence he took another swig, which made his speech filled with more hatred, more hurt.

"People I knew died too, Katniss, people I loved." He said, jabbing his finger into his chest, "And they aren't coming back. You? Both of your boys will be back by the end of the year, I guarantee it. Your mom may not be in District Twelve, but there's this thing called a phone." His eyes filled with disgust as he slammed down his bottle. "You think you have nothing? You have everything!" he yelled.

She knew she had lost, but she wouldn't let it show. She waited as he calmed down; apparently too angry to look at her, he stared out the window.

"And what do I have?" he mumbled. Katniss leaned forward slightly to catch the rest of his sentence, seeing that he dropped to a spiteful whisper, answering himself, "An ungrateful wench of a daughter who can't see what she has."

Silence.

"…What?" Katniss managed to ask.

"Are you that slow, Katniss?"

Her mind reeling, she shouted, "I don't believe you!" The same words she said to President Snow. It was louder than he had meant, but it was too fake, too unreal.

The hurt registered on Haymitch's face. Let him be hurt, Katniss thought, for telling such a lie.

"You lie!" she shouted again. Silence. Without meaning to, the tears started to spill from her eyes. Louder, "Tell me you lie!" Although she was screaming, it was more of a plea than a command.

Haymitch just looked at her with empty eyes, the light had left them years before. He began slowly, "There was no Hob when my family died. No liquor to purchase until the legal drinking age. When I turned twenty one, I bought all the liquor I could find."

Katmiss registered this as an apology. That, in his drunkenness, he had come up with this story. She relaxed slightly, waiting for him to take it all back, but he continued.

"We didn't have Peacekeepers like Darius. If you were drunk, there were consequences. When I passed out in the Seam…" he paused, "your mother helped me back to the Village."

"No," Katniss whispered.

"We were two different people! She was still lost after Maysilee died… we hooked up…"

"No," louder.

Haymitch took another long swig, "Is the room purple for you, too? Anyway, then you were born and we realized we were two different people. We split because I think we both realized that I would never be completely sober. Your mom found your… dad… and we put it behind us." Katniss was shaking her head violently and beginning to rock. This was misinterpreted by Haymitch. He sighed, "Are you following? Do I need sock puppets and a health textbook or something?"

Katniss jerked her head up, her eyes were filled with ambivalence: mainly anger. "My father was not some drunk," she spat, "he died in a mine accident!"

Haymitch was hurt, but undaunted. "Have you ever noticed how creepily alike we are?"

"Were from the Seam! Everyone looks like us!"

"Not looks! Bullheaded, stubborn, manipulative, shallow, and we both don't handle things well. We tell it as it is and frankly hate ourselves. Shall I continue? Have you ever noticed how different you are from the rest of your family? You better believe it, sweetheart."

Utter silence until the hovercraft landed in 12. Katniss wouldn't look at Haymitch although he desperately tried to catch her eye.

They walked into the Village, "So… I'll stop by tomorrow."

When he was out of earshot, too angry to say a word to him, Katniss could only say, "I doubt it."