Author's Note: Time to see what's happening in District Twelve in the weeks after the announcement. We know how Katniss reacts and have seen things from her point of view, so this chapter comes from the perspective of one of my favourite canon victors. Haymitch is the only victor in Twelve with a relationship with the other victors and whilst Katniss realises this somewhat, she's Katniss, so doesn't dwell on it.

There will be two more chapters to the story. I intended for it to be one, but I think it works better as two. They will (hopefully) be published next Tuesday and Friday.

District Twelve's Victors and their Games: Lucy Gray Baird (10, deceased), Haymitch (50), Katniss (74), Peeta (74)

…

Over a month had passed since the reading of the card for the Quarter Quell and with it, weeks of their new regime. Under Peeta's watchful eyes they trained, ate more, and took in whatever new information they could whilst the Capitol's new regime for the District had well and truly buried its claws. The people were subdued, and a level of poverty not seen since before Cray's days as Head Peacekeeper had set in. The Hob was no longer functioning, and people were struggling to make whatever deals they could under the cold eyes of the new crop of peacekeepers who had descended over the District.

Haymitch had returned from a very early morning walk. Early enough that Peeta would be distracted by other things and if Katniss knew, she would not care. He had taken a route from the Village to the train station where he would see as few peacekeepers as possible. The train from the Capitol which passes through Eleven had arrived containing his regular parcels, along with a peculiar box, which he assumed must be from Eleven, although it was not like Chaff to take that much care with the presentation of the gifts he managed to sneak onto the train.

Haymitch quickly opened the Capitol boxes. He was relieved to find bottles of whisky which he knew must be from Plutarch. He would have to hide them from Peeta. He would get around to decoding the labels and then peeling them away to find any messages later. The overtly fancy wrapping of the next parcel revealed clothes from Effie. "Bloody woman!" he whispered under his breath as he looked at the very clear instructions she had given him. Apparently, those were the clothes he must wear for the Reaping. Haymitch smirked, knowing Effie did not trust him with his attire but then he realised what this meant. She would not be making her usual irritating call at his house before heading to the Square. Arrangements must be different this year. He set aside the clothes and quickly found a hiding place for all but one of the bottles of whisky which he opened. He would return to the rest later and he would find a way to get a message back to Heavensbee. Twelve was not ready. Haymitch knew the rebellion was growing thick and fast, but not in his home. The people were crushed. He could see from Katniss's friend Gale, that some people had a fire in them but there were too few of them and they would not be able to organise under this latest round of oppression.

He knew he had some time before Peeta arrived to start the day's training, so he took the mysterious box and sat in his living room. Sure enough, it had come from Eleven, Chaff's wine was the proof of that. His friend had taken up winemaking, using the fruits grown in his District as his talent. It also provided a useful method of sneaking messages in the labelling. Haymitch was not usually a wine drinker but for his friend, he gladly accepted the gifts. He would have to hide this too he realised. After the announcement, he thought every day about his friends, so he carefully pealed back the labelling to reveal Chaff's note.

"Not your fault.

Look after yourself. And those kids.

We'll be fine. I'll do what I have to do. Don't worry about me."

"Damn!" Haymitch spat out as he took in Chaff's note. He did not think Chaff would be holding anything against him, and he could only hope the other victors shared that thinking. He did not know what he was expecting though. Of course, Chaff would do this. He never thought Chaff would stand by if old Orchard were reaped but it hurt to have it confirmed. Still, there would be no surprises for him from District Eleven.

The box made more sense as he looked further. This was obviously Seeder's doing. Along with Mags, the District Eleven victors had always supported him. Inside the box was a scarf. He ran his hands along the material and along its seams. Cecelia's work. Looking at the scarf more clearly, he recognised it. Clearly worn before, but not on Chaff and it was not something he imagined Orchard would wear. He thought back to previous visits to the Capitol and then he remembered. Seeder's brother used to accompany her to events they were forced to attend throughout the year, and he used to wear it. A gift from Cecelia when she realised how uncomfortably cold Eleven's attendees were in the Capitol winter.

Haymitch was touched by the gesture. He knew how much Seeder adored and relied upon the strength and good nature of her brother and she was distraught at his sudden passing. She was also not somebody to make risky communications, so Haymitch took this as a sign. She was ready, Eleven was ready, and that she stood with him, brother and sister arm in arm against the Capitol.

The box also held a smaller container with several preserves, jams, and syrups which he presumed were Orchard's contribution. The older victor had started the tradition of District Eleven's victors using their time and their victor talents to promote their district in a positive way and like Chaff, he made bespoke products for sale in the Capitol. He would keep some of the jars for himself and give the rest to Peeta as he would be grateful for some new and top-quality ingredients. Peeta and Orchard would have got on well, Haymitch realised sadly. They were both bakers and kind individuals who could strike up a conversation with anyone.

His feelings towards his friends in Eleven made this all the more difficult. He had told Katniss that this was going to be awful for him, whatever his role. She knew that, but knowing her, she had not spent much time dwelling on it. Peeta was more perceptive, however. He did not need to be told and he kept catching the pity in his eyes when they were training together. He did not like that, but what was to come would be far worse.

They had been watching previous games, horrific enough in itself, but talking to Katniss and Peeta about the victors made it worse. Reducing his friends to their tribute selves, their strengths and weaknesses, what to expect, who would be a threat and so forth. He would really like to tell them about Chaff's warm heart, Finnick's thoughtfulness, Seeder's enduring support and even Brutus' good sense of humour instead. It hurt to talk about his friends in this way. Katniss and Peeta must be kept in the dark, however. He must tell them not to underestimate Chaff, that even with only one hand he could still be a menace with a sword, cane, or scythe, when really, he would not harm either of them. On the contrary, Brutus would go for them, when the time was right. So Haymitch told them everything he knew about the training programme in Two, Brutus' fighting style and which weapons he favours. But in reality, Haymitch would much rather recall the friendly and funny conversations the two would have over the Capitol's love of the terrible musicals, magazines and romantic literature they would find themselves featured in.

By now, Haymitch had started to make inroads into his first bottle of whisky. Realising Peeta would find out, he reluctantly set it aside and set about disguising the smell on his breath. He did not need lecturing today. Things were going to become truly awful before he could even hope they would get better. Where he would end up at the end of all this, he does not know. But he hates that he has a better chance than his friends. The other victors who have stood by his side for twenty-five years and now many of them would die for a cause he was now so central to. Mags would tell him to stop being so self-centred. They were not about to die for him, or even for Katniss, but for something many of them had been involved in before he even made it through the arena. But he cannot help but feel somewhat responsible for what was about to happen.

It was Chaff who first brought him into the fold years ago. Who told Mags and Pluto that he could be trusted. It was Chaff, he learned, who immediately took the empty chair at the Twelve desk in the Mentor's Centre as soon as he stepped off his pedestal in the Quarter Quell. And it was Chaff who was at his side when he woke up in the Games hospital after being pulled from the arena. It was Mags and Seeder who provided him with unwavering support, the former taking the mentor chair next to Chaff's after her own tributes had died, and the latter giving the doctors hell about his recovery in the hospital and them both offering him years of friendship when his own District had shunned him. He owes them all and he will not be able to repay them properly.

The only thing he could do was to make sure that this plan worked. To make sure his two stayed alive long enough to be rescued and to ensure the girl does not shoot Finnick or Johanna on sight. He will try to set up alliances that give them, and his friends the best chance possible. But, as a mentor, he knows there is only so much he can do after the gong sounds. Plutarch Heavensbee better know what he is doing.