A/N: The first installment of the Broken and Burning series
Godesses & Monsters
She was a goddess. A goddess of beauty and darkness and mystery. A goddess that turned the heads of more than a hundred men and women when she stepped through the door. She was a goddess that loved fiercely and fought just as rough. She was a goddess that he could not have, a goddess that he was forced to stay away from. She was a goddess who stayed up in the late hours of the night, sobbing her sorrows away so she could put up a good fight the next morning. She was a goddess the burned with the fire of a million coals.
He was a monster. A monster of hate and ugly and secrets. A monster that fell flat on his ass and watched kids – kids, kids, why kids – die every year because fuck what can he do? He was monster that had forgotten how to love, a monster that no longer fought. He was a monster that she did not know how to fix, a monster that would never turn into a god. He was a monster who stayed up in the late hours of the night drinking his sorrows away so he could it again the next morning. He was a monster that had long since cooled his embers, long since forgotten to burn.
When she comes to him in the dead of the night with her brown curls tossed haphazardly into a bun and her eyes wild, puffy and bloodshot he knows. Oh god, he knows. So he pours her a drink and let's her forget, forget to be the Mockingjay, forget to be the Girl on Fire, forget to be Katniss. He lets her be someone else as she slurs and stumbles and shatters and sobs. He lets her forget as she breaks in front of him. He pushes, she pushes, and they break together.
When she finds him with his wrists slit and an empty bottle of pills next to him, she knows and oh god, no why, why would you do this to me? She can't breathe as she pumps his stomach contents out of his mouth – curse him, and his damned lack of gag reflex – and onto his own chest. His eyes shoot open and he looks at her with why, why, why, why can't I die? She slaps him and kisses him and tells him he's broken, and he knows he's broken and he sobs. She holds him and tells him what he needs to hear, and she tries not to worry about the hopeless look on his face. She pulls, he pulls, and they break together.
"You should go," he whispers one night. She's half-sprawled over his chest, watching his geese fly south for the winter. She's smiling and grinning and they're lying on the fallen leaves of autumn, his hands behind his head and her hands tracing the familiar scars that lay beneath his shirt.
"Why?" She asks, barely fazed. They'd had this conversation a thousand and one times before. He wanted her to go – go to who, Haymitch? who do I have? – before he hurt her and she wanted to stay – why, Katniss? why am I so special – so she wouldn't lose her mind alone.
"I broke you," he replies, but neither of them move. He knows the conversation is useless, he knows that she's made a nest in his house, in his heart, in his soul and even if he did really want her to leave she couldn't. She wouldn't, because he's sawed his way through something she had chained and locked up after her sister died.
"We broke together," she shrugs, shifting so she's straddling his lap. He tells her not to do that, time and time and time again because fuck Katniss I'm a man and I have needs. She always does it anyway, never listening because damnit, Haymitch, I'm not a girl anymore and I'm sure as hell not breakable.
"Don't do that," he says again, just for extra measure. She mocks him under her breath and remains seated in his lap. "Katniss I-" But she's too quick. She knows him too well and it seems as if they're too coordinated together.
"-owe me an apology? No, you don't. Don't you fucking dare apologize for anything you did because everything you did… mended me. You pieced me back together and taped it and it may not hold but it's enough… you're enough. And I'm okay. And I love you." He groans at that one, because oh god he doesn't want those words. Those words lead to hurt and despair and broken whispers in the dead of night to run, run Iris until your feet are blistered and bleeding.
"I can't love," he says slowly, gauging her reaction. Another shrug. He knows a piece of her dies – a piece of them always die until they can't anymore and damnit Haymitch I'm not dead – and a piece of him dies with her – a piece of him always dies until they leave and fuck, Effie I'm trying – and he's scared of her response.
"I don't need you to," A breath of relief, from him of course. She twists her mouth into some sort of grin – because to be honest, her smiles would never be the same – and he shakes his head. "I just need you to be here with me."
"I… I'm a mess. I can't… I can't clean up what I've destroyed, Katniss. I'm… I'm a bloody mess."
"So am I. Effie will have a fit, no?" Effie. It was odd thinking about Effie. It had ended up so mix-matched that it left his head hurting. It was no longer Effie and Haymitch. It was Effie and Peeta. It was no longer Katniss and Peeta. It was Katniss and Haymitch. That was scary, a bit. Effie and Peeta knew each other… Effie and Peeta were good, pure. They deserved each other, not the broken shards they'd left behind in District 12 to settle with the coal dust.
"Sweetheart-"
"Haymitch. Shut up and kiss me." So he does. He kisses her. And it's fucking fairytale. Out of all the things that could have gone right, he winds up with a girl half his age that he's not supposed to have and their first conscious kiss is magical. Not kisses to bring each other back from the nightmares, not broken half-assed kisses because Haymitch can't hold back and he needs to cool down. It's everything they're not. Sweet. Peaceful. Synchronized. Whole.
There'll be anger, sadness, tears in the dead of night, disappointment and fucking hell will there be chaos. But there'll interludes of happiness. Things like Haymitch's offhanded glass of water or Katniss' night without the terrors that'll bring corny smiles and crooked laughter.
He may be a monster, and she may be a goddess, but in the end they burned from the same ember.
A/N: Excuse the awfulness, sorry .-. So I have writer's block (yeah, I know) so review with what you want to see next.