Chapter 4

The afternoon passed with a perpetual sluggishness. Katniss and Peeta mostly sat in a tension filled silence when Peeta finally realized there was nothing he could say to take Katniss's mind off of Prim. Katniss jumped at each sound outside of her door, constantly expecting someone to come inside with a dire expression to tell her that Prim had passed away. Fortunately, no such thing occurred. Dr. Aurelius did return a couple times throughout the hours to check on Katniss's physical state, each time asking her what would be simple questions and testing her hand-eye coordination. He never told her the results. He just nodded and said to expect him in an hour before exiting again. Katniss was getting sick of the repetition.

Finally, Dr. Aurelius told her she was well enough to be discharged. Peeta seemed more relieved than Katniss. Katniss, exhilarated to escape the deadened hospital room (she could practically feel the suffering of past patients), leapt from the bed and was at the door before she realized she only wore a hospital gown. Her face heated up and she turned around to see Peeta smirking at her. Dr. Aurelius left and Peeta turned as Katniss quickly slipped into fresh clothing (Peeta had brought her some seeing as her previous outfit was covered with blood).

"Ready to get out of here?" Peeta asked when she finished, placing a warm hand on the small of her back.

"I just need to find out what's going on with Prim," Katniss said quietly.

Peeta nodded and the two of them approached the door. Katniss placed her hand on the door handle, relishing the feeling of the cool metal under her palm. She could taste the answers on the other side of the door and as bad as she wanted them, she was also terrified of what she might find. Gathering all her courage, Katniss pulled the door open only to find her path blocked.

A grubby man was perched in the doorway, his eyes slightly watery and his hair rather greasy. His suit hung loose on his body and looked a little worse for wear. The scrub on his face was past the acceptable five o'clock shadow and distracted Katniss from his disgruntled features. "Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?"

The affectionate term seemed ironic falling from this man's lips and Katniss recoiled from the words. Maybe that was the man's intentions because as soon as she stepped back, he entered the room and shut the door forcefully behind him. Katniss felt as if all chances of returning to normalcy disappeared as the door clicked closed.

Peeta had somehow maneuvered himself to stand between Katniss and the encroaching man, his stance protective. "Who are you?" Peeta demanded.

The man appraised Peeta, his eyes quickly sweeping his form, finally resting on Peeta's hand that was clutching Katniss's wrist. Rolling his eyes, he gruffly rifled through the inner pockets of his jacket and pulled out a leather square. "Agent Haymitch Abernathy, FBI," the man grunted, flipping open the identification so they could confirm. "And judging by the way you puffed up like a blowfish the second I walked in here, you must be the fiancé."

Peeta and Katniss both faltered at the assumption, having long forgotten about Peeta's hasty lie that got him into the room in the first place. Haymitch, however, mistook their hesitation as mistrust and gave them an aggravated look.

"You can deflate now," he told Peeta.

Peeta blinked, confused as to what he was talking about and still inwardly trying to stave off a panic attack about lying to the FBI. He debated confessing, but he knew if he did, he'd be kicked out of the room in a matter of seconds. And as unprofessional as Agent Abernathy appeared, Peeta knew that he possessed the answers to the infinite amount of questions streaming through his head. He wasn't going anywhere. Conceding, Peeta dropped down onto the bed.

Katniss, on the other hand, seemingly recovered from the blindsiding and gathered herself to her full height, which, admittedly, wasn't very intimidating. It was her scowl that gave off the menacing vibe and she wore it as she approached the FBI agent. "Where is my sister?" she demanded. "How is she doing?"

Agent Abernathy didn't waver. He had obviously faced tougher and more dangerous opponents than Katniss Everdeen. "Now, sweetheart, you're rushing things, aren't you? Wouldn't you enjoy hearing all of those enticing details about why you're here first?"

"No," Katniss snarled. "You've had me locked up in a room for hours expecting me to sit calmly and wait patiently while my sister could be dead for all I know. So tell . Is. She?"

Agent Abernathy paused, clearly impressed with her tenacity. He stared at her inquisitively, one eyebrow raised as he considered her. With a small shrug of his shoulders, he replied, "Alive, apparently."

Katniss choked out air, feeling a strange mixture of relief and trepidation. She wanted to inquire further, but the words seemed to fail her.

Peeta, correctly interpreting her struggles, asked for her. "Is she going to make it?"

"Do I look like a doctor to you?" Agent Abernathy snapped, ostensibly getting impatient with the conversation. "Now you two better sit down, shut up, and listen because I only feel like telling you this once and the faster it gets done the sooner I can bring you upstairs to see Blondie."

Katniss looked like she really wanted to punch the man in front of her, but, deciding assaulting an FBI agent wouldn't be fruitful, she sat forcibly next to Peeta. Turning their eyes, they both looked expectantly up at him. Agent Abernathy stared right back. All was silent. The seconds ticked away importantly as if they were the countdown to a space shuttle launch, but when the clock reached zero, still nothing happened.

Finally, Agent Abernathy spoke. "What? No questions? No why is this happening? Who was the shooter? Why am I here?"

"You told us to shut up," Katniss growled, stubbornly.

Abernathy burst out laughing, his mirth as rough as his personality. "Oh, she's a keeper," he said to Peeta sarcastically. "I can see why you want to marry her. Real personable, this one."

Peeta had to grab Katniss's waist to keep her from launching herself across the room, though he did think this man to be incredibly rude. "Why don't you just start from the beginning, Agent," Peeta offered, trying to keep the peace.

"Haymitch," the FBI Agent corrected. "I'm not respectable enough to be called Agent."

Katniss snorted in potent agreement.

Agent Abernathy, or Haymitch, ignored her. He shrugged out of his jacket and slumped down into the chair that sat against the wall, making himself comfortable, digging in deep in preparation for what Katniss and Peeta expected to be a long story. Haymitch ran his fingers down his cheek to the point of his chin once before his gravely voice started. "It turns out your father's accidental death wasn't so much of an accident."

Peeta fingers clenched down hard around Katniss's hand, whether it was in comfort or to ensure she didn't attack again was unclear. But Peeta didn't need to worry. Katniss was having difficulties processing what she had just been told. How was that possible? What did that mean? That he was murdered? Katniss shook her head, trying to clear the debilitating smog that suffocated her brain to a halt.

"I don't understand," she managed.

"The elevator that your dad died in was old and unsafe. It hadn't been inspected in years. It was natural to assume it just…gave out on him. We never believed so, though. Further inquiry into the situation has led us to a different conclusion. There's evidence the elevator was tampered with."

Katniss shook her head, unwilling to believe that. "No. No. It couldn't have been. That elevator – it just gave out. You said it did. No – my dad – he didn't – he wasn't – no!"

"Katniss, shh," Peeta said, digging his palms deep into the muscles at her shoulders, trying to sooth away her panic. "Take deep breaths, Kat. Just breathe."

Katniss listened to Peeta and sucked in a shaky gulp of air, releasing it with the same uneasiness, focusing on the one word she must say. "Why?"

Haymitch sunk further into the cushion, hands repeatedly running down the slick arms of the chair. He supposed he should be an expert at breaking hearts at this point in his career, but each time dug a little deeper into his soul. Soon he'd be void of it. He needed a drink. "A little more than three years ago, your father," he nodded at Katniss, "got a job at a privately owned car dealership, remember?"

Katniss did remember. It was the reason why she was here, at college. She had never planned on attending, knowing how difficult that decision would be on her family. She had hoped to get a job and spare enough money to send Prim when her time came. However, when her father was hand selected out of all the factory workers to try his luck at the dealership, it had been a blessing. The new occupation, while still not very high paying, was miles above his minimum wage station he was holding down before. Suddenly, her father was insisting she go away to school.

Once getting his confirmation, Haymitch continued. "He worked there for a year, quite successfully, I might add. His quick adaptation resulted in a lot of commendation from the managers. Word spread, and your father's dedication got the attention of the man who owned the dealership. Now, this man was apparently independently wealthy and owned many other businesses in many different fields and areas of merchandise. Impressed by your father, this man decided to promote him to the offices that oversaw his entire financial portfolio."

Katniss remembered this too. Her mother was so proud. It seemed as though something was finally going in the Everdeens' favor. Delighted with his promotion and his new income, Katniss's father immediately went out and bought her a new laptop and offered to pay for an apartment near campus. Katniss was hesitant to accept the offerings, not used to suddenly being able to afford things, but the pride in her father's voice when he told her was enough to change her mind. All of a sudden, the memories tasted bitter.

"It didn't take long for things to start going downhill. Not even a year later, your dad started noticing…discrepancies within the businesses. He was no fool, after all. He decided to bring them to the attention of his boss. The man simply laughed at him and discredited his accusations."

"How do you know all this?" Katniss whispered, no longer looking at Haymitch, but staring off into the corner.

"I'm getting there, sweetheart," Haymitch said, his voice much softer than it had been originally. "Anyway, your father was persistent. Every time he noticed a problem, he took it directly to the boss. Every time he was waved off. Until, finally, the boss got annoyed and basically told him to back off if he knew what was good for him. But, your father was no coward and he doesn't stand down to bullies."

Katniss's breath hitched, her mind flashing back to a conversation she had with her dad when she was five years old. She had told him about this large boy in her kindergarten class that was picking on a smaller boy during recess. He had even made him cry. Katniss was worried that she'd be the next victim. Her father had sat her down sternly and told her that bullies could not affect her. That they were just insecure and if she stood up for herself, they'd leave her alone. He also said that perhaps the little boy at school could use some help with standing up for himself. So the next day at school, she did just that. She helped that little boy stand up for himself to make her daddy proud. And she's been friends with Peeta ever since.

"Like I said, your father was smart. And that man underestimated him. He researched the businesses' histories. He discovered odd things."

"Like what?" Peeta chipped in.

"Like how every once in a while an employee goes missing and turns up dead in the river."

Katniss and Peeta mirrored each other's gasps.

"It didn't take long for him to figure out he was in a ton of deep shit," Haymitch said harshly. "He contacted the police immediately. Eventually, the case ended up on my desk with a big ass 'Top Priority' stamped across it. So I called your dad in, gathered all the information. It didn't take long to figure out that this guy was part of the mob, second in command in the family I've been after for years. But I didn't want the second in command. I wanted the top gun. For that, I needed more information. I needed to know where he was staked out. Your father offered his help. He wanted to keep his position and gather intel. I reluctantly accepted his proposition."

Katniss understood where this was going. She could see the rest of the story playing out perfectly in her head. Her father had stayed in the office, learning all he could, because that was the right thing to do. She was proud that he had made that decision, even though she secretly wished he didn't. Because her father got caught and then they killed him. Haymitch basically told her as much.

"They made his death look like an accident because they didn't want to give the police a reason to raid the offices. The underboss sent out the hit as soon as he realized your dad was talking to the authorities. But, what he didn't know was that your father had managed to secure the location of the family's house where head honcho was hiding out. The same day your father was killed, we stormed in. Turned the house into a battleground. Someone managed to shoot the boss, but he got away," Haymitch ended on a quiet note. "Fast forward two months, and here we are."

Peeta turned to Katniss to see how she was dealing with the onslaught of information, preparing himself to wipe away the inevitable tears. But when he looked at her face, it was dry. Her gray eyes as sharp as stone. It had finally happened. After months of weeping, she had run out of tears for her father. Her emotional well scavenged for the last drop and now ran bone dry. Peeta didn't know whether to be happy or sad about that actualization.

Quicker than expected, Katniss shot out of her seat and marched across the room to lean over Haymitch. "You knew about this, all of this, the entire time?" she hissed.

Haymitch was silent.

"You knew and you didn't tell our family?"

"It was classified information. Need to know basis only."

"NEED TO KNOW!" Now Katniss was shouting. "So, what? Now I need to know? What about six hours ago when Prim was SHOT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET?"

Haymitch actually flinched. Katniss apparently found his weakness. "You weren't in any danger until now," Haymitch told her.

"Really?" Katniss stated, derision flowing off her word like a waterfall. "I would like to see you tell that to my sister. We just had an entire mob family gunning down our backs for the past two months."

At this, Haymitch stood, challenging Katniss's position. She took a small step back in surprise. "No, sweetheart," Haymitch said, shaking his head. "You didn't. Things have changed in the past few days."

"Like what?" Katniss spat.
"The boss died."

The made Katniss swallow her voice.

"From the gunshot wound," Haymitch continued. "He lasted a couple months, but he was old. And they couldn't really bring him to the hospital. So he died."

Katniss just stared at him. Peeta, who had been rather quiet up until that point, moved to stand next to her. He was overwhelmed, so he had no idea what she could possibly be feeling. And though he felt stupid for saying it, he asked, "So what does that mean?"

"It means," Haymitch began slowly, as though he was explaining something to a two-year old, "that the underboss, the man who your dad worked for, who knows him personally, is now in charge. The old boss had no vendetta against the Everdeen family. The new boss, on the other hand…"

"What's his name?" Katniss asked so quietly that Haymitch had to ask her to repeat the question. "What's his name? The man who wants me dead, who got Prim shot, who murdered my father. What's his name?"

There was a beat of hesitation. "Snow."

Snow. Katniss immediately loathed the name. She didn't know if it was the worst or best name for a villain she had ever heard. In her mind, she pictured the man who threatened her life. Pale, almost translucent skin, glowing eyes, a warped, demented face. Shit. She was picturing fucking Voldemort. He was that evil to her.

Peeta's voice abruptly cut across her mind. "So what's the plan?" Peeta was glaring at Haymitch with his arms crossed tightly on his chest. Katniss realized she had no idea how long so was off in her own world, dreaming up monsters.

Haymitch was looking at Peeta as if he had grown an extra head. "Plan?" he repeated dumbly.

"Yes. Plan. As in, how are you going to help us? How are you going to protect Katniss? I mean, you're our – our…"

"Handler?" Haymitch offered, smirking, which only caused Katniss's scowl to lengthen. "And it's not 'our' anything, boy. I'm the lead on her case. I'm here to help her. The only reason you were lucky enough to hang around this long is because you are her fiancé. If your smart enough to hold off the wedding until after this is over, you won't be involved in any of this."

Peeta grinded his teeth together because there was no argument. He couldn't tell Haymitch that he had no intentions of holding off the wedding because he had no intentions of a wedding at all. But he hated being on the outside looking in and he hated leaving Katniss to deal with this alone. He'd figure out some way to help.

"Tell me," Peeta said slowly. "Tell me how you plan on saving my fiancée's life."

"I've got it handled," Haymitch said simply.

"And who are you to say that?" Peeta argued irrationally.

"Me?" Haymitch asserted, suddenly appearing much more intimidating than he had throughout the entire conversation. His back straightened and his chest broadened. A mysterious glint surfaced in his pupil. Peeta could finally understand how this man became an FBI agent. "I'm the best damn chance she's got."

Author's Notes: I worked hard so I could get this out for the holiday. I hope you enjoyed and hopefully you understand things better now. Tell me your thoughts. All reviews are appreciated...it'll only help me get better. HAPPY THANKSGIVING!