(A/N – I don't own The Hunger Games or the characters in anyway; all rights are reserved to Suzanne Collins.)
Damn Them
Haymitch's P.O.V
"Three." The voice resonates throughout the room.
"Two." I clutch the fraying edges of the arm chair with on hand and my other hand travels to my inside pocket where I hold a flask full of liquor. They could stop now, both of them. They could begin to start fighting to the death, but it wasn't possible. Peeta wouldn't do it, and neither would Katniss, now.
"One!" I look up in time to see them both gladly place the Nightlock berries in their mouths. Katniss reminds me so much of myself. The only difference now is that she knows what she's doing. I did not.
A painful lump forms in my throat as I remember how I killed that girl from District 1. How that force field not only killed her, but my friends, family and sweetheart. How that one reaping, name and stupid mistake ruined my life for eternity. I take a swig from my silver flask and gulp deeply as the flash backs become too clear for me to deal with sober.
"Stop!Stop!Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present thevictorsof theSeventy-forthHunger Games, Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark!"
The last drop of liquor drops down my throat as Claudius Templesmith frantically rings out from the speakers. It's enough for a breath of relief to fall about the room – but not for me. I shoot sharp glances and Effie and the stylists before getting up and storming from the room. I have no words to describe my anger.
But who am I angry with?
The Capitol for taking those kids, sharing a glimpse of hope, and then snatching it away again? Or angry with myself for playing the 'star crossed' lover act throughout the whole games, my actions resulting in a show of in defiance – maybe even rebellion? How I was the only hope the kids had for the games, and now their deaths lie securely on my shoulders for playing the same card far too often. Maybe if the act was cut off quickly Peeta would be dead and Katniss would be victor or vice versa. I wouldn't then, had made those kids' life hell for how long Snow decides to take action for.
I lean against my door frame and exhale deeply. The smell of liquor coming off my breath sickens me further alongside the thoughts that although my tributes are alive, they could be dead in a blink of an eye. President Snow will not be happy – is not happy, and yet both tributes have no idea the commotion they've caused throughout the whole of Panem. Only I know what this could mean.
After all, only one other person has done this before. Me.
And now District 12 waits in anticipation as their victors come back to greet their friends and families. How although no-body wants to acknowledge it, an unspoken understanding has fallen across the nation as people recognise Katniss' act as a symbol of utter independence and rebellion.
How people now recognise that The Capitol has been humiliated through their own devices of control throughout their districts.
"Damn it," I whisper, my hands running through my unwashed hair. "Damn both of you," I finish.
And it's true, because both of them – even though they were doing it for their lives, have damned themselves.
A/N – A quick one-shot. I wanted to right in Haymitch's P.O.V. in the scene where Katniss and Peeta threaten to commit suicide.
Anyways, like usual I hope you enjoyed this!
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