This switches to Haymitch POV half way through, just to avoid any confusion.


Walking back into my house – the cold, empty, lifeless one that is oh so posh and proper and full and nothing like the part of the District I grew up in – is more difficult than I imagined.

Going through the front door, up the stairs, into the bathroom; it's like I'm in a foreign land.

I'm not; it's just been far, far too long since I ventured into this part of the house. Or any part expect the living room, if I'm honest.

It's unreal how much grime has accumulated over my body. I'd almost forgotten that I'd fell down the hill in the woods; it all seems so long ago…

It took over an hour for me to feel satisfied, and by then the water had run shockingly cold. I didn't mind; in fact, I welcomed it.

I'd prefer to freeze than burn, anyway.

I didn't bother with my hair, what was the point?

There was none.

There was no one to dry it for me, brush it, plait it… I can plait it myself, of course I can, but I prefer Prim doing it. And she prefers doing it too…

I shake my head furiously, my eyes clamped shut, desperately trying to stop the gorge of tears. I'm not successful; they're streaming down my face by the dozen before I'm even out of the bathroom. Shaking, and trying to ease the retched sobs, I hurriedly throw on some clothes and scramble against the foot of my bed, pulling my knees to my chest, burying my head.


I watch her leave. I won't go with her; she could do with some privacy. Although privacy isn't always the best in these types of situations, as her suicide attempt proved, but she at least needs to feel that she can be trusted. Partially. I don't intend to leave her alone for long, anyway.

She didn't object when I told her my plan. She probably didn't have the energy to, if I'm honest. Sighing, I dump her plate in sink. I'll clean it later, for now I have to visit Peeta.

The lovesick kid opens the door before I even knock. "How is she? I saw her leave, where's she going? Why aren't you with her?" The questions just bubble out of his mouth.

Growling irritably, I shove my hand over his mouth, silencing him, and push past him into his house. His parents are at work in the bakery along with his brothers.

I walk to the kitchen table and sit, indicating that he should do the same. He does, opposite me.

"She's gone home. I've told her to take a shower, get clean, and then I'm going to move my stuff into her house."

Peeta frowns. "Move your stuff into her house? Why?" I shrug,

"She asked me to. I didn't really have a choice; she wouldn't have accepted a rejection in the state she was in." The boy's still frowning. "Look, you and I both know she can't be left alone right now. Gale's out of the question, since he believes she's completely gone. She isn't, but it will take a while for her to come back around, and even when she does, she won't be the same. She blames herself. That much is obvious. The best we can do is be here for her, she seems to trust me, enough to want me to live with her. You just need to be her friend right now, Peeta; her friend, and nothing more. Just help me bring her back."

Finally, Peeta nods. Good.

"Come by and visit tomorrow, I can't say if she'll be pleased to see you or not, but since she is responding to the outside world now, it might do her good." I stand to leave.

"Haymitch…" He begins, pausing as if he's not sure if he wants to continue.

"What?" I grunt.

"Ah... nothing, never mind." I raise my eyebrow, signalling for him to just say whatever it was he was going to say. He sighs, "It's just that… you and Katniss, you have more in common than you'd think." I shrug, acting indifferent.

He's right, of course. I know we're very alike, which is why I'm doing this; I don't want her to fall down the same path as me. It's not the life she deserves.


Long time no update :3 Hah, uh, sorry about that - I don't really know what happened.