Warning: These one-shots feature heavy subjects, including alcoholism, drug abuse, suicide and torture... so far. Now adding: depression, cheating, heartbreak, underage, implied prostitution, suicidal thoughts, someone having acid thrown on them, smut, implied rape/non-con. I'll add more as the story wears on, just in case.
Disclaimer: Credit goes to HannahSongla for the story idea. Please go check out her Hayniss story similar to this - Sweetheart. Credit goes to Suzanne Collins for the verse and the characters. I don't really own anything but the text of these one-shots. And no, that doesn't mean the song lyrics or the playlist. Enjoy c:
AN: I honestly just wanted to get something published, sorry it's terrible. I'm kinda back from my hiatus, though?
Song: Read All About It Pt. III by Emeli Sande
Read All About It Pt. III
You've got the words to change a nation
But you're biting your tongue
You've spent a life time stuck in silence
Afraid you'll say something wrong
He finds her curled behind a couple of pipes, coated in a layer of dust and grime, sobbing viciously and muttering Peeta's name. Her once smooth and silky locks are matted together from lack of treatment, and her skin patchy and pink from the recovering burn wounds from the arena. Her clothes look too baggy on her body, like she's not been eating - just pushing her food to other's plates.
He stands there and watches her for a minute, takes in just how much his little Girl on Fire had been broken.
He must make a movement or she must sense his presence because she looks up. She looks up and there's hatred and distrust and he knows he's fucked her over. He also knows that he's in no position to be asking favors. He asks anyway.
Her first answer is a flat out 'no', and then she turns her back to him. They both know she's only saying no because he asked, but then that's not the whole truth, is it?
"Why?" he asks, because he's almost positive that no one has ever asked her why. No one has ever bothered to understand why the Mockingjay refused to become the Mockingjay.
"You look sober. I'm hallucinating you," she says, and the fire in her eyes dies a little. There's an air to her voice that says she's teasing, but he knows that she's almost dead serious. She hates him too much right now to be playful with him.
"No you're not. They dried me out, sweetheart," Haymitch insists, extending a hand. "I've... I need to be at my top notch if I'm going to groom the Mockingjay into otherwordly perfection."
"Don't call me that," Katniss snaps, but allows him to pull her to her feet. Once standing, he realizes just how incredibly fragile she is. It looks like she hasn't eaten in months, with paper thin skin that he can feel the bone through. Her clothes seem to be hanging off of her, too big for her too small body.
"Katniss..." He wants to say something, to explain himself, but she puts a hand up and his mouth clamps shut.
"You left him, correct? I didn't hallucinate that?"
"No. That's... that's real. That's very real," Haymitch hangs his head a little, the burning sensation of guilt turning through every vein in his body. He left Peeta to die. He would never forgive himself for that - and neither would Katniss, most likely.
"You're sober?"
"Yes. Real."
"And I'm the Mockingjay? The country wants me to be the Mockingjay?"
"That's the general idea of things." She nods, processing the information. They stand in silence for a moment, Katniss' eyes on the cold concrete below their feet. Then she looks up and her fist collides with his jaw with enough force to make him stumble back. For a girl who looks so pale and weak, she sure did have a strong left hook.
Haymitch turns back to look at her, ready to curse her to hell and back. But the fury on her face could qualm a thousand armies, have some of Panem's toughest warriors running to hide like cowards. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned; the truest sentence his mother had ever uttered to him.
"You are such an asshole, you know that? You leave Peeta to die, I don't see you for weeks - hell, I'm on the bridge of thinking that you're fucking dead too... do you have any idea how worried I was, you dick? Then, you march in here like a knight in shining fucking armor, begging me to lead the country to war... all for what? So you can get out of here and start drinking again? You dick. You fucking dick. I hate you. I hate you."
Haymitch's eyebrows raise but he smirks a little. His Girl on Fire was alright, for now. They hadn't completely broken her. Although, he'd have to have a word with Finnick for tainting her tongue.
"Katniss-"
"I'll do it. I'll be the stupid Mockingjay."
"What- why?" he asks again. She doesn't look at him when she mutters,
"It's not important why. I have my reasons." Katniss marches off after that, pushing past him to the little opening in which she'd crawled through. Haymitch stares after her for a moment.
"So I got punched in the face for nothing?"
Her laughter echoes up through the concrete walls and makes him shiver.
Making sure that we're remembered, yeah
'Cause we all matter too
If the truth has been forbidden
Then we're breaking all the rules