Disclaimer: I do not own the HG trilogy.

Not the Only One

Laughter.

That's what Haymitch greeted her with when he saw her standing in front of his door. He was already drunk, not that the half empty bottle in his hand and the stench of alcohol didn't give that fact away.

There's something about that laugh, though, she just couldn't put a finger on it.

He took a swig of the bottle and walked back inside his house, still laughing. Madge followed him, both confused and worried about his behaviour. He went to the kitchen and settled back to his usual seat. Even more bottle was on the table.

"Haymitch," she tried to get his attention but he was still lost in his alcohol induced world, laughing away. She stood there, staring at the broken man in front of her. She couldn't help but think that she made the right choice in holding on to the feelings she had because what she's witnessing must be a sad way to live the rest of one's prison sentence.

Then the laughter stopped and Haymitch suddenly said, "You should've listened to me, blondie."

Listen to what? Choosing his kind of misery over suffering from her unrequited love? He's the one to talk, the visual wasn't convincing.

"There's no point about it now, is there?" she said, "Haymitch, I think we should –"

"No!" he cried, banging the bottle in his hand on the table, "We should stay here, together!"

"I don't understand," she said, bemused.

"The birds, blondie! The birds!" he said, forcefully, glaring at her, "You always had the worst timing! Then you messed up! Why did I ever listen to you?! "

"What birds?"

"Pink birds!" he then gave a dry laugh, "I always thought you're too girly, oh, you'll love Trinket's wig, you like that silly color, you even like silly named birds."

Haymitch was talking gibberish. She might be girly but what's with Effie's wig? Silly color? Madge didn't even like the color of pink and she didn't know much about birds, but she knew nothing about a pink one nor did she like something silly named. The only birds she thought she could like were the ones in her mother's pictures. She reached for the pin that she still wore as a necklace.

Then she finally understood. It wasn't her Haymitch was talking to. She was sure he wasn't even aware that he let Madge in. Because it wasn't her he was seeing, it was a ghost.

She called it right, he was in an alcohol induced world. But that world wasn't going to let him forget, however, she was starting to think that maybe Haymitch didn't drink to forget.

"We all don't want to be alone, Madge."

Was that why he's drowning himself in spirits? Was he hoping the stronger one would make the ghosts real enough?

Madge knew she won't be getting any help from him that night, so she decided to leave. If she was in his place she wouldn't want anyone to witness her in that state. And she didn't know how to help him anyway. She barely managed to help her own mother with the headaches but it was more about the grief and more like heartache.

She looked back at Haymitch's house, only the kitchen was lighted, where he was being kept company by bottles and the ghosts it made. She might be selfish by planning the easy way out but it beats the alternative. Madge didn't want his life because that will be her future if she survived the games and Gale did not.

She thought Haymitch could use some rest before she unloads whatever she wanted for him to do. So, the next day, she decided to find Gale instead and tell him of her other plan.

Ironically, Madge found him at Haymitch's.

The older man was still in his seat at the kitchen but instead of a bottle he had a mug of hot broth in hand. Gale was leaning at the kitchen counter, a box of empty bottles beside him. He was also holding a mug, with a bandaged hand.

"What happened with that?" she said, then remembered last night when she heard glass breaking, "Forget it, I think I know."

"Sorry about that," he said, putting the mug down on the counter, "I was trying to calm myself last night."

"By smashing inanimate objects," Haymitch said with a dry chuckle, "Those might not hit back but they're difficult to beat up."

"Lame," Gale shook his head while Madge was left baffled at the casualness of the two. Was last night just a dream?

"So what's the plan?" Haymitch asked her, "I'll suggest a pity party but Hawthorne pour the 'party' down the drain this morning. Tsk. Such a pity."

"Ha ha, a regular clown, aren't you?" Gale said, rolling his eyes. He then looked at her, full of concern and asked, "Are you okay?" Which, technically, was a stupid question to ask because how can she be okay when she knew for sure that she's going back to the games? But she knew she was being silly and that he didn't mean it like that. So, she nodded and told them, "Yes, but I wasn't here for the pity party, Haymitch."

"Then what for, princess?"

"We all know that the reason for the Quell this year is to target us," she said, "You said so yourself that Snow wasn't happy with our victory. Then those people Gale encountered in the forest told of the revolts that were happening in other districts and it's not far fetch to think that the president is blaming those on us. It seems that people look up to us like an icon or something."

"The mockingjay on the bread pretty much confirmed that," Gale said, "It actually makes sense, the Victory Tour seemed peaceful but you can sense the tension in the districts."

"So what? You two want to start an uprising or something?"

Gale and Madge looked at Haymitch, he was smirking and looking at them, amused.

"No," Madge said, she wasn't thinking about that when she started talking about the unrests in the districts. She was too much of a coward to actually start something of that scale.

But Gale wasn't thinking along the line where hers was headed, "Perhaps, it wouldn't take much to stir whatever brewing out there."

She took a deep breath, ignoring his statement, and said, "I actually wanted to propose a career like training, you might not need it but I do. I do not want to be a burden anymore. I want to be prepared."

"Trust me, you'll never be prepared," Haymitch scoffed, "But whatever."

"How about you, Gale?"

He smiled weakly, "Sure, whatever you say, princess."

"Good," she said, not missing the fact that they agreed for her.

And they spent the day lounging in Haymitch's kitchen, questioning him on other Victors. No one mentioned that fact that only two of them could go home this time around. And that she decided it's going to be the two men that were going to make it. Funny how accepting that fact made her less afraid and more determined.

"Something tells me you're a list maker, princess," Haymitch said after she was done posting a list of things he should do on the wall of his kitchen.

"I kept the bakery records organize when I was still living there," she said, and felt a pang at the thought of what her life was like before all of this happened. Then another hit her when she suddenly thought of her parents, but she pushed the feelings down. She needed to break away from them so it would be easier for everyone. She smoothed the paper against the wall and said, "I like doing things like that," she couldn't help the wistfulness of her voice when she said that.

When she turned, she saw Haymitch's glazed eyes. Was he seeing a ghost again? She almost laughed, thinking 'Don't worry Haymitch, after this games you'll see me again, in that exact form." She almost said it out loud too but there's something more in those eyes. Pain. A lot of it and she didn't want to experience that.

"Madge," she heard Gale said and saw him giving her an indescribable look. Was it pity? No, anything but that!

"You can go now, Gale," she said interrupting whatever he planned to tell her, "Your mother might be worried."

"Looks like you're dismissed," Haymitch told him, "Lucky you, she likes you better."

Gale scowled at him and before he could say anything again, Madge had grabbed his arm and was leading him out of the door.

"You're kicking me out?"

"No, I'm sending you home because Hazelle must be worried by now."

He was looking at her, incredulous, but didn't resist anyway. She stood by the door until he had walked right in front of his house and then went back to the kitchen.

"Not very subtle, princess," Haymtich said, chuckling, "The look on the boy's face was priceless."

"Whatever, Haymtitch," she said, and added urgently, "Choose him."

"What if I'm the one who go in with you?"

"If you're not, then choose him. Please, Haymitch," she said and grudgingly admitted, "You're right, alright? This… this… feeling makes me weak. And besides, he had a chance of winning again."

"Then why all this training?"

"Like as I said I don't want to burden you or Gale in the arena," she said, "I want to help. Please, promise me Haymitch!"

Haymitch regarded her, she almost lost hope that he'll agree when he suddenly frowned and said, "Fine."

"Thank you," she said, a grateful smile on her face. He just shrugged and she started gathering the papers on the table while he just stood there watching her. Thinking that she must have reminding him again of a ghost from his past, she didn't mind. She was too grateful to be bothered with it.

It's not when she was about to leave when Haymitch found his voice again, "I'll try to volunteer, too, if I could."

"You would do that?"

"Yeah, but if I get pick then it's out of my hands."

"I don't understand," she said, confused.

Haymitch then let out a loud laugh, without an ounce of humor in it, and said, "What? You think you're the only recipient of my amazing advice?" he chuckled some more at the look of confusion showing on her face, but sobered up and added quietly, "At least the boy was smart enough to listen."

And he left.

AN: Sorry for this really late update. Life happened and yeah... so, what do you think?

And oh, thanks for reviewing last chapter. Thanks for the feedbacks!:)

(Next chapter: Training. Everlark. Jealousy. it's complicated.)