Chapter 36 : I Belong To You
The air was thick.
Haymitch was glad to get out of the hospital paper gown, was even gladder to leave the hospital room for the penthouse even if it meant kicking the wheel into motion… But he wasn't glad for Peeta's overwhelming presence in Effie's absence.
She had been in and out during the last three days, reluctant to leave him but forced to go play the game she had ignored for too long. People were asking questions, making assumptions… She had told him not to worry about it, that she would handle it, so he was doing as instructed.
He didn't have space for too much worrying and he was already anxious sick about what was going to come in the next few days.
His fingers were shaking and buttoning his shirt required his entire focus. It was a good thing. A distraction. Because the boy was staring.
He had mostly ignored Peeta ever since Alina's visit. He tended to ignore people if he could get away with it. It was easier. There had been more victors coming and going with the same reassurances Alina had given him, not always so outwardly offered but the promise was in there all the same. He was still welcome, still part of the club. Lucky him.
He hadn't been alone with Peeta in all this time either and he supposed he ought to say something, offer an apology at the very least, an explanation at worst… He had nothing to say. Anything he could say would sound cheap and, truth be told, no amount of apologies or explanations would make the situation okay. He couldn't even look at the boy. Not without remembering in vivid colors his spectacular failure.
It was unfair, of course, but it was the way it was. He knew that tune, he had been dancing to it ever since Maysilee had died. You could never look in the eyes the people the dead allies had left behind. That was where the ghosts resided.
He hadn't dreamed of them yet. He hadn't had nightmares.
They would come.
He knew they would.
The boy was staring and he was sure Peeta was gathering courage to say something Haymitch really didn't want to hear.
"Please don't." he requested preemptively, finally giving up on the shirt. Who cared if three buttons were left open at the collar?
Peeta seemed to hesitate, then he handed him the jacket. "If you can make it to the window, you should wave at them. It will go a long way in making the Gamemakers happy."
Making the Gamemakers happy wasn't exactly his top priority but he snatched the jacket from the boy's hand and shrugged it on with less swiftness than he would have liked. His shoulder ached where Cashmere had stabbed him and the bruises on his side were fading but they were still a nice shade of purple and yellow. The good thing was that his torso and shoulder hurt enough that he barely felt the residual throb in his hand.
He wasn't as steady on his legs as the doctors would have liked yet but victors were always rushed out of the hospital as soon as possible anyway and he had gained more recovery time than most. His steps were slow but purposeful. From the bed to the window, an area he had carefully given a wide berth until then, precisely to avoid facing the country a while longer.
He took a deep breath before reaching for the handle. He wasn't sure he was glad or resentful for the boy's insistent presence at his side. He would have preferred accusations and declarations of hate. That, he would have known how to deal with. There was anger alright in Peeta's gaze but he didn't think even half of it was directed at him and there was affection there too, a fondness Haymitch certainly didn't deserve.
"It's just a week or two at most." Peeta promised. "Then, we're going home. It'll be easier at home."
Home.
He opened the window and he was greeted with such a clamor he wondered if that was something the boy and Effie had planned: his spontaneous appearance at the window… Not difficult to put in place. One word to the press… Another to a couple of influent sponsors… He forced his lips to stretch into something that might have passed for a smirk and he waved with his left hand to spare his aching shoulder. The sun caught the bangle, almost blinding him. That was good. Better than seeing the crowd that was pressing at the foot of the building, chanting his name.
Home.
He didn't have a home. He had a house. A house he would now have to bury himself in for good because there was no way he was risking facing Primrose Everdeen or her mother. And Thread. The Head Peacekeeper seemed insignificant now, in light of everything else, but… No liquor. There would be no liquor. There would be nothing to use as a rampart against the angry ghosts and the unbearable memories.
And Twelve…
The rich smell of wet earth and woods… The faint traces of coal dust in the air…
He and Chaff walking through a familiar landscape to check snares.
He froze, hand in the air, smirk turning into a twisted thing…
He couldn't go back to Twelve.
Twelve…
Twelve was part of the arena.
He would be trapped.
Trapped there.
Trapped again.
Trapped…
"I think it is enough."
He wasn't sure when Effie had arrived. He hadn't heard her come in. All he could hear was the clear calls of his name down there.
He let her drag him away, close the window after waving herself, dazzling them, distracting them…
"Are you alright?" Peeta worried. "You're white as a sheet."
Effie's hand was on his arm and he turned to her because she had been by the window a second ago and he knew what that meant. Losing time. He gasped in a gulp of air, unaware that he had been holding his breath.
"Peeta, dear, give us a minute, will you?" Effie hummed gently as if it wasn't a big deal. She helped him sit on the bed and he never took his eyes away from her. Peeta hesitated but eventually nodded and left the room. "Look at me." she demanded with that same calm that made him wonder if she had asked someone about how to handle panic attacks or if she had been in that position too many times over the years that she now instinctively knew what to do with unstable victors. "Just focus on me, darling. It will be over in a second."
A part of him revolted at the patronizing tone.
Most of him was too far gone to care.
He put it out of his mind. Twelve, the arena… He put it out of his mind. One step at a time. One day at a time.
He wasn't exactly calm yet when the door opened again.
She frowned in displeasure and turned. "Peeta, I told you…"
Her voice trailed off when the boy came in, escorted by two gorillas in Peacekeeper uniforms.
"We have a special guest." Peeta announced somberly, immediately coming to stand close to them, in front of them. Like a stupid human shield.
Haymitch's heart stopped when Snow strolled in like he owned the place.
Although, technically, he did.
"President Snow!" Effie squealed.
Haymitch couldn't quite identify the emotions in her voice. Part astonishment, part fear, part… Was that admiration still? For the man she had been taught to worship since youth?
He didn't pause to analyze his own feelings.
He stood up and pushed both Effie and Peeta behind him, arms stretched wide to make sure they wouldn't do something stupid like try to get in front of him. His eyes darted from the Peacekeepers' guns to Snow's walking stick and, for the first time since he had woken up, he felt all there. Mind sharp. Focused. Adrenaline was a miracle worker.
"Good morning, Haymitch." Snow said with a hint of amusement. "I was in the vicinity, I thought I would come and offer my congratulations."
"I won." he spat, his heart beating so fast and hard it seemed to bounce back against his ribs with every breath.
"Hence the congratulations." the man concurred, waving a hand in the air. The President's eyes were like a snake's. When they went past his shoulder to the people behind him…
"No." he protested, aware that the conversation probably wouldn't have made sense to anyone else. But he had known Snow for a long time. He was familiar with his methods. Familiar with… "I went in. That was punishment enough. I went in."
Snow, to his credit, didn't pretend not to understand but he had the audacity to almost look sorry. "A punishment, yes. And had it been anyone else standing in your place, I would have called it quit. Lesson learned. But you, Haymitch…"
"I learned it." he cut him off quickly. "I… The arena was clear enough. I learned it."
"You were instrumental to this whole… Well, I believe from your point of view one would call it a fiasco." Snow opposed. "You were never supposed to win, you realize. But you did and now you are twice a Quell victor and making you disappear would be more trouble than you are worth, honestly. So, you see… Punishment has to be given."
"Give it, then." Peeta snorted, taking a step forward.
"No." Haymitch snapped, pushing him back, relieved when Effie took a hint and got in front of the boy too. It was stupid, naturally. Useless. But it was how they had agreed to play this from the start: protect the children. At all cost. "I won't let you touch him. I won't."
The Peacekeeper on the left shifted. It was subtle. But Haymitch knew when someone was getting ready for a fight.
"Oh, Mr Mellark will walk out of this room with you." Snow chuckled as if Haymitch was stupid and it was hilarious. "I am a fair man, Haymitch, surely you realize that by now?" He almost burst out laughing at that but the President wasn't done and he doubted it would have helped. "You and Miss Everdeen were responsible, he played with the cards he was dealt. Of course, there was this mishap in Eleven during the Tour but he didn't know the rules yet. He adapted magnificently. No… I have no complains about you, Peeta."
"Katniss…" the boy growled.
"Katniss Everdeen is dead." the President interrupted in a clipped tone. "She had spirits, she could have done great things if she had chosen her side more carefully. I would strongly advise not following in her footsteps." His voice softened. "I like you. Do not make me regret it."
Haymitch didn't glance back to look but at the noise, he knew the boy was trying to get past Effie, to protest…
"You don't want to kill her." Haymitch declared before the boy could say something stupid. Because it came down to that really. If Snow was sparing Peeta… "You want me under your thumb. You need a leash. She can be the leash. You keep her alive, you make sure I cooperate."
He was showing his hand but he was certain the hand had already been tipped anyway. The phone calls, the toasting, the love declarations… He had thought it wouldn't matter because he was going to die. He had thought…
He had said he loved her and he had meant it as a farewell.
Just not hers.
Snow looked almost sympathetic. "I already have a leash for you, Haymitch." He pointed to Peeta with the end of his walking stick. "You volunteered for the boy, I assume you care for him. And Mr Mellark is blessed with an extended family and many friends. So many people who could take the fall if you do not play the game the regular way…"
He shook his head. "You don't have to kill her."
"I wish I could believe that." the President sighed. "But your pride, Haymitch… It has always been your greatest flaw. You will never learn your place." Snow's eyes darted to Effie and back. "Besides, one could question your escort's loyalties. Truly, it is two birds with one stone."
"I have always been loyal to the Capitol." Effie lied through her teeth, clearly hesitating on how to play this. Haymitch had a feeling that if she had had any hope of getting out of it alive, she would already have been in the middle of a dramatic act of tears and pleas. She knew it was hopeless, had already accepted it…
"I am not a monster and you did win that Quell…" Snow hummed. "I will grant you a goodbye. As a reward."
Effie's breathing was short and sharp.
Her fingers brushed the back of his hand.
Haymitch pushed her behind him once more, refusing to even look at her.
"I learned the lesson." he swore. "You don't need to do this. I learned the lesson. I know my place. I learned the lesson."
Snow considered him for a long time, looking bored by the whole thing. A façade. Haymitch knew he was enjoying it. The man was probably high on it.
"What is it, then? This lesson you claimed to have learned." the President hummed.
"I belong to you." Haymitch muttered.
"I beg your pardon, I didn't quite catch that." Snow mocked.
"I belong to you." he repeated, louder. Too loud. It was like a stab in the chest. He ignored Effie's soft "Haymitch, don't" because there was no point. "We belong to you. There's no point trying to escape it. There's no point trying to…" His voice faltered and he shrugged. "I get it. I won't cause any more problems. I won't ever try anything again. I just… Don't kill her. I get it, I swear."
Something like surprise flashed on the President's face but it soon morphed into a cruel twist in the corner of his falsely gentle smile. "Why, Haymitch, it seems you can learn after all."
"I learned my lesson." he promised. "The Quell was punishment enough. I learned…"
"Kneel." Snow ordered.
Everything in him rebelled at the thought.
He bristled.
Your pride, Haymitch… It has always been your greatest flaw.
And he was right.
"No." Effie whispered, horrified. "Don't…"
It wasn't that hard in the end. Not if his humiliation was the price for her life.
Bending the first knee was the difficult part. The second, it was almost easy.
He needed to prove he had truly and well understood. If he wanted to save her, if he… There was a chance still, he could see it. Snow wouldn't be able to resist the thought of torturing him further, of dangling her over his head…
"Beg for her life." the President requested in that same bored tone. As if this was all a ceremonial that he had been through a thousand times before, a chore.
Haymitch accepting he was powerless.
That was what it was all about.
"Please." he pleaded. He felt empty kneeling there, in front of a man he hated more than he had ever hated anything or anyone else, stripped of his pride and dignity, certain there was nothing he wouldn't have done at that moment to secure Effie's survival. Emptier than when he had woken up. Emptier than he had ever been. "I'll do anything. I'll play the game. I'll… Anything. I'll do anything."
He met Snow's eyes, what he was leaving out clear in his gaze. He would jump through every hoop and pretend to like it. He would be an exemplary victor. He would go to events and pretend to enjoy it, he would sing Snow's and the Capitol's praises in the Districts, if anyone was stupid enough to want to buy him he would lie down and let them do whatever they pleased because…
Because all of that was worth Effie's life.
All of it.
"I lost." he admitted slowly, his voice rough. The more he begged, the easier it went. He wondered if there was relief to be found in giving up, some sort of comfort in pleading for mercy, some sort of peace in accepting defeat. "I lost. You won. I'm sorry I was even stupid enough to try. I lost. Please. Don't take her away from me. Please."
He bowed his head, numb once more, hollow… He stared at the floor and waited for the sentence.
It felt to him as if everyone was holding their breath.
Snow was standing there, staring down at him thoughtfully, twisting his walking stick this way and that…
"One toe out of line and she will pay the price." the President declared eventually. "Do not disappoint me, Haymitch. If you make me regret my leniency, Miss Trinket will suffer the consequences and they won't be pretty."
There were two sighs of relief behind him.
Haymitch was staring at Snow's shoes wondering who even wore buckles on them, if it was in fashion and if Effie would inevitably try to convince him to wear some eventually.
The shoes were almost at the door, framed by the Peacekeepers' boots, when he found his voice again.
"Can I stay?"
The question took everyone aback, including himself.
The shoes stopped, the shiny buckles catching the light for a second.
"Stay." Snow repeated, a touch of uncertainty in his voice.
"In the city." he clarified, the thought solidifying in his mind. He couldn't go back to Twelve. He couldn't. It would be like living in the arena. It would be… No, he couldn't. Not anymore. The Capitol was the lesser of two evils. Most of the Careers chose to reside in the city at least the first few years after their victory. It wasn't unheard of for a victor to prefer the Capitol to their own District. Travel was limited, there was no coming and going every day or on a whim but… Staying in the city for months on end wasn't unheard of. As an afterthought, he added: "Please."
How easily one took to begging…
He wasn't sure Snow had been expecting that kind of request but the President took it in stride. "If you are ready to shoulder the obligations that come with such a choice."
Parties and events and public apparitions and probably whoring himself out too… But he would have Effie full time.
In Twelve, he would simply have the feeling of being forever trapped in the arena, rotting away in his house without any booze to keep the edge off, unable to face anyone. He didn't give himself two weeks before he did something stupid.
Was it even a choice?
"Yes." he accepted simply, with the feeling of selling his soul to the devil. Except the devil already owned his soul, didn't he? That was the whole point of that lesson he had needed to learn.
The shoes didn't move.
He had the feeling he was supposed to look up but he felt so… meek. Weak. Ashamed. The most mortifying was that both Peeta and Effie had witnessed his humiliation. But that too was part of the lesson, he figured.
"I have no objection to your affair with Miss Trinket going public." Snow declared, in a tone that suggested he was doing them a favor. "This being said, concubinage is all I am prepared to accept. This ring on your finger will never have any official value and will never be acknowledged, Miss Trinket, am I clear?"
"Crystal, Sir." Effie answered after clearing her throat.
"Keep him in line, my dear." President Snow concluded almost with affection. A fake, horrible fondness that made Haymitch taste bile. "I will see you all tomorrow at the Crowning."
The shoes left the room and the door was shut after the second Peacekeeper.
Silence could be deafening.
It lasted forever in the space of ten seconds.
Then, stubborn hands pulled him up to his feet.
He wouldn't meet Effie's eyes but she framed his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. He felt his face burn red with shame but before he could say anything, shove her away or snap, she was kissing him.
They hadn't kissed yet. Not since what he had thought to be their last.
He remained unresponsive at first but her lips had always possessed that gift for drawing him in and instead of pushing her away, he tugged her closer, forcing his tongue in her mouth… He only remembered Peeta too late, once their lips parted with an audible sound that, he was sure, made the boy even more uncomfortable.
He glanced at the kid, struck by the enormity of what had just happened.
The boy looked betrayed, hurt, angry. Everything he had expected after Katniss' death.
He wasn't that surprised when Peeta stormed out.
I did promise a special guest, didn't I? This was actualy the idea that inspired the whole story (and it only took me 36 chapters to get there so, you know, kudos to me). Did you like Snow's intervention? Haymitch surely didn't. Were you surprised he was willing to go that far for his family? What do you think about him wanting to stay in the Capitol? And were you surprised Snow was good with hayffie making it official? Is it hiding something? Do you understand why Peeta is mad now? So many things happening in this chapter! I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know your thoughts please!