Chapter 51: Willful Ignorance

Disclaimer: I don't own THG.


Cato:

One thousand pages, Max wanted to write a book that would satisfy that requirement. Armed with a new notebook and a pack of crayons, he was ready to face that challenge.

Following the events of the execution, the city had gone on lock down. The Capitol officials liked to pretend the rest of Panem hadn't been treated to the show. Coin was dead, Katniss would sentenced, and a new President had been elected. An emergency election had placed Commander Paylor at the head of the state.

Cato didn't mind staying a few days longer; they'd stay and wait for the dust to settle. But Max would have trouble coping alone. Why was the hovercraft broken? Why couldn't they find another? He had a long list of questions but luckily, a short attention span. A notebook and crayons had done the trick, though Cato recognized it was a temporary fix.

"What's that supposed to be, Baria?" Max closely examined the picture the fanged woman was drawing. The boy had enlisted their help in illustrating his book.

Enobaria held up the picture for all to see, clearly proud of her accomplishment. "It's a tree."

"A stick of brown and green scribbles. So realistic." Cato used the opportunity to ridicule her obvious lack of talent. Clove wasn't paying attention to their petty arguing, she was busy with her own artwork.

"What? That's what a tree looks like!" Enobaria cried. "And what are you supposed to be drawing? Grey blobs?"

Cato held up his own picture, knowing Max would approve of the art work. "It's a quarry. Rocks are grey, in case you didn't know."

"Max, you can laugh at how untalented they are." Clove said snootily. "This is real art."

Her paper was half blue, with a yellow circle in a corner. So maybe they weren't artist, but they were trying to keep Max happy.

"It's an ocean." Clove felt the need to clarify once she realized no one knew what they were looking at.

"We can start over." Max began tearing out more sheets, handing them out.

"You won't have enough pages left to write the book, Max." Cato told him.

The child didn't agree. "I have a whole notebook. That's a lot."

"Great job teaching the kid how to count." A voice interrupted.

Leaning on the doorway was Haymitch Abernathy. Hands behind his back, he kept a casual air. The unkempt hair and dark circles under his eyes contradicted the effort.

Loosing sleep over Everdeen. Unnecessary.

"Abernathy, if you're looking for a bottle, I hear they're down in the cellar." Enobaria taunted.

"I'll keep that in mind." Haymitch wasn't the least bit insulted. "I'm here to request an audience with Clove. If that's not too, much of a hassle."

"I don't appreciate the attitude Abernathy." Clove replied with a frown. "I'm busy, maybe some other time."

"I brought a gift. I'm sure you were expecting some gain out of your investment?" The man said.

Cato laughed, thinking of the arrow that killed Coin. "I think we did gain something from her investment."

Haymitch adopted a bored expression, not bothering to reply. Clove stood from her place on the plush carpet, setting aside her drawings and crayons. Arms crossed, she approached Haymitch. "What is it you have for us?"

Haymitch was smug. "I think it's better we talk in private."

"I don't." Clove's irritation was steadily rising. "Say what you want. It can't be anything important, anyway."

She assumed it was a harmless visit. Max remained in the room, though he was occupied with his drawings. Cato knew better; the boy was listening to every word and once the stranger left the room, the questions would pour out.

Instead of speaking, Haymitch brought out his gift. A knife, the steel polished to an extreme. Clove's reaction was immediate, she snatched it out of the man's hands and searched for the inscription she knew had to be there. It was the knife from her games, the one they had found in Snow's office.

"Max, I have to go for a second." She called. "Just keep working on that book."

She gave Cato a nod before vanishing through the doorway. Haymitch followed without another word, shutting the door behind him.


Clove:

She hurried down the hall, seeking to put distance between herself and Haymitch, and the rest of her group. If anything went wrong, she wanted to make sure Max couldn't hear a commotion. An empty guest room a few doors down was all too, inviting.

"Kid seems to be doing okay." Haymitch tried to get some talk out of her, but Clove wasn't taking the bait.

She wouldn't tell him he was wrong. It was impossible for anyone to escape a war unscathed. Nightmares were the main concern with Max; most of them revolved around bombs and bunkers...

"Where did you get this?" She chose to dive right in.

The man didn't appear to feel threatened by the fact that she held the knife. On the contrary, he was amused by her thinly veiled anxiety.

"You must have dropped it outside. It's got your name on it, I thought you'd want it back."

Far from it. She wanted the knife to disappear along with the body. It should have. The cause of death had already been determined as trampling. Why was her knife floating around? How did it reach the district Twelve mentor?

He has to have known what to look for. He had to have seen. And he kept it.

"Are you trying to threaten me?" Clove hissed. "I'm the one holding the knife, so think this through."

Haymitch chuckled."What could I ask for? Money? Influence? You have neither of those things, I'm afraid."

"Then? You aren't doing me a favor by returning my knife, I don't feel any gratitude." Clove added. "I could care less what happens with the knife."

"You thought something like this would just...vanish."

She shrugged. "It's worthless."

"To you, maybe. Some people would have loved to have the chance to do what you did. I think, if they knew, they'd argue you stole that chance from them." Haymitch said coolly.

Clove was infuriated by his words. "I killed a man who was dying. He was sentenced to death. Is it my fault that Everdeen couldn't aim an arrow? No. You should be thanking me, I finished the job she couldn't handle!"

"What right did you have?" Haymitch countered. "It wasn't you're job, Clove."

She grit her teeth, taming her frustration. "What right did Everdeen have to kill Coin?"

A smirk formed on his face as shock took over hers. Clove didn't miss the point he was trying to make. It was such a simple connection.

"The trial starts in the morning." He stated. "It'll be open to the public, I doubt it would take up much of your time."

Clove silently seethed, glaring at the man before her.

"The hovercrafts will make trips again starting tomorrow. Most people are leaving after the trial, no point in staying." He concluded.

"Sobriety doesn't suit you, Abernathy." Clove hated that it allowed him to form cohesive thoughts. "You wasted your time coming to see me. You could have kept the knife." She extended her arm toward him, returning the piece of gleaming steel.

"Here. Take it."

Haymitch waved away the offer, much to her displeasure. "I'd rather have one of those bottles from the cellar."

Clove slipped the knife into it's usual hiding place. "I guess that's that. Thanks for the knife, it gives me something to do until the trial's over. But I know it won't last more than a day. Best of luck finding those bottles."

Leaving the room and returning to Max's side was the right thing to do. Max and her family were her purpose. So why, after every battle already won, did Clove feel like she was running from the finale?


Okay. This is where I'll be making some changes. The trial lasted one chapter in the book, I want to give it some more background. Hope you guys don't mind. Thanks for reading! I honestly always appreciate that you guys take time to read this story. Thanks! :)