A/N: Sorry for not updating in a week. Allergies have been bothering me and whatever writing motivation I've gotten has gone into a few one-shots.

Chapter Six:

Katniss Everdeen's face is rightfully guarded as she looks at me. But I know that expression. It means that she doesn't know how she should be feeling about me right now and is afraid of expressing the wrong emotion. I can't blame her, considering I choked her a month ago.

"Well, look who it is." I say, trying at casual talk. "Katniss Everdeen, alive and well."

"Is that a good thing in your eyes?" She asks, her voice purposely detached. "You did try to kill me."

"Yeah." I sigh, glancing away in a brief moment of shame. "I'm sorry about that, by the way."

Her face remains a mask.

I frown and try again. "I heard you and Peeta are headed to District Two tomorrow."

She still doesn't say anything.

"Look, sweetheart, I'm trying. It's hard if you refuse to talk to me."

Nothing.

"This isn't working." I sigh again, this time out of exasperation, and glance towards one of the slots by the door. "We were worried about the wrong person being ready. This is pointless if she's not going to talk, Beetee."

I glance back at the girl, spotting the earpiece tucked in her ear just as I hear an impatient voice say something to her. She continues to stare at me, almost lifeless. I shake my head, glancing away from her. She's not here to have a staring contest with me. Unbelievable.

"You have to live; for your family and for that boy."

"What about you, Haymitch?"

I chuckle dryly. "All I'm needed for is training people to kill."

"Do you really believe that?" She asks with a frown. "Haymitch, you're more than a killer and a trainer. You're the reason I haven't gone insane yet, in all of this. I need you to be here, Haymitch."

My teeth grind together. Why is she being so indifferent now? She didn't act like that in the arena.

"If you don't want to be here, Katniss, just go." I manage, my voice tight in irritation. "Get ready to go to Two. I'm not worth the time to stare at all day."

I look back at her when I hear her footsteps nearing rather than retreating. Her guard's been dropped and there are unshed tears in her eyes. She stops beside me.

"I'm sorry." Katniss murmurs. "I just can't believe it's really you, not after...it's been three months, Haymitch."

"And you wanted nothing to do with me a year ago." I crack a small, amused smile. She tried so hard to forget my existence after her first time in the arena- until the Tour, that was.

Her own lips curl upward a little and she wipes at her eyes. "I promise not to completely ignore you when this is all over."

I nod, liking the sound of that idea. But there's something I need to know. "When you were in Twelve, was there anything left?"

She grimaces and gives a shrug. "Victor's Village."

"Well, that's one way to mock us." I muse, eyebrows rising briefly. "Ouch."

"Snow left a rose in my house." She tells me.

"He's afraid of what you can do, Katniss. You are his biggest threat." I point out. "I bet he left that rose to cover it up, like he does with his own blood."

"You saw Finnick's propo?"

"I've seen a lot more than that. Nice singing, sweetheart."

Her face flushes a shade of bright red. "I need to pack for Two."

"That'd be important."

Katniss heads for the exit, but pauses right in front of the door. "Thank you, Haymitch. For everything."

For volunteering for Peeta. For planning to get you out of the arena. I give a firm nod. "You're welcome."

*X*

The next morning, Beetee sends a couple of people in to unstrap me. I nearly collapse, it's been so long since I've been on my feet. I silently vow never to get tied up for a month again.

Effie's waiting for me outside of my holding room. Despite her stiff attitude, I can tell that she's at least a little glad to see me. We don't talk much as she leads me to my new living quarters. I thank her and tell her that I'm glad to see a familiar face in such an unfamiliar place.

My quarters aren't much. Definitely not near as fancy as the ones in the Tribute Center in the Capitol, nor as large as my home in Victor's Village. Rather plain, really. But it'll do. My only regret is that I don't have anything to liven it up with; all of my belongings are back in Twelve, well out of my reach.

I decide that it's probably a good idea to change out of my medical clothes. And I already know what's in the dresser; the same plain, gray uniforms nearly everyone I passed are wearing. I'm pleasantly surprised to find that one of the drawers also contains a hand knit coat a slightly darker shade than the standard clothing.

I bathe and dress, then trim my beard. That's something I've not had the chance to do in the past few months. I comb my long, dark hair back the way I would've normally had it back at home. I look almost as I did before the Reaping for the third Quell, minus the blonde highlights to my hair. But I don't mind it too much. Those times are gone.

I've just finished exploring my quarters when there's a knock on the outer door.

"Who's there?" I call as I make my way towards the door, genuinely curious of who it is; most everyone I know here is probably headed for Two right about now.

The door slides open from the outside and a familiar face greets me.

"Plutarch Heavensbee." I greet. "Now that's a face I haven't seen lately."

"Yes...Welcome to District Thirteen, Haymitch." He replies. "What do you think of it so far?"

"It's no Twelve, that's for sure." I tell him. "It'll take some getting used to."

"Do you want to go see Twelve? I can arrange a visit for you, if you want." Plutarch offers.

I almost laugh in spite at the idea. "No. I've seen enough of it on camera, thanks."

He nods. "I understand."

"Good." I say, not planning on elaborating anyway.

"The reason I'm here, I was sent by President Coin to bring you to the meeting hall. Beetee left something for you before he headed off to Two with the others."

"They want me to help? This soon?"

Plutarch nods again. "It was Beetee's idea. Katniss and Peeta backed him up. Coin wasn't going to disagree with three Victors."

"Hmmph." I consider the idea, though I probably won't get a choice in it anyway.

"This trip? Girl, wake up!" I snap my fingers at Katniss for emphasis. "This trip doesn't end when you get back home! You never get off this train."

No, I have to see this train to the end of its ride. The last Games were only part of it. My hijacking was only part of it. There's so much yet to come, and I'm still a piece in the story.

"Let's go." I say to Plutarch.

*X*

The meeting hall isn't really anything special. It's gray and plain, like the rest of Thirteen seems to be. The table is the most interesting thing about the room. It's light blue and glowing a little.

There's a woman sitting at the far side of the table, facing our direction as we enter. It's clear that she's been expecting our arrival. There's something about her that I don't like. Maybe it's the cold, lifeless gray eyes. Perhaps it's the perfect hair- Capitol perfect hair. But I know instantly who she is; this is President Alma Coin, the leader of Thirteen.

Great.

She looks like the type of person who wouldn't get along with Katniss. Maybe that's why the rescue took so long.

But Plutarch seems to like her. Either that or he's good at pretending he does.

"Haymitch, this is Alma Coin, the president of District Thirteen." He introduces. "President Coin, this is Haymitch Abernathy, one of District Twelve's Victors."

"I've heard a lot about you." She tells me. Her voice is as indifferent as she looks. I think I see a flash of distrust in her eyes, but I'm not bothered by it.

"There's been a lot going around about me lately." I point out, feeling the same sense of distrust that I'd seen in her.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you." She extends a hand for me to shake.

I shake it.

"Now, Haymitch,"Plutarch interrupts, picking a small object off of the table,"Beetee left this for you."

"What is it?" I ask him.

He goes on to tell me that it's an earpiece like the ones my visitors had used. This one's programmed for long distance so I can communicate to Katniss and the others who'd gone to District Two. He explains how it works, showing me a button on it that'll enable me to talk when I'm needed.

I put the earpiece in. The oddness of having an object in my ear makes me want to take it out, but I know that my speeches have caused more than enough problems for Thirteen and that it would be best for me to comply and do as told.

Coin gives me a map of the different levels of Thirteen before they send me off on my own. I find that I'm hungry and decide to make my way to the cafeteria.

Upon arriving, the chefs inform me that there are three mandatory meals each day and that there's no negotiating it. However, one pities me enough to give me a late breakfast. The food in Thirteen is nothing special, but the breakfast meal alone is more than what most people in Twelve ever got a day; it's only a bowl of porridge with a scoop of vegetables on the side and a cup of milk. I suppose the survivors of the bombing got something out of the relocation.

I inevitably end up back in my quarters, laying down for a nap. For a Victor like me, there's not much to do here when all the interesting people are away.

As I doze off, there's an unfamiliar voice in my ear that startles me wide awake.

"Command, this is Mockingjay One. Do you copy?"

"This is Command, Mockingjay One."

"We are halfway to our destination. Repeat, we are halfway to our destination."

"Well done. Clock in again when you arrive in District Two."

"Yes, sir. Mockingjay One clear."

"Command clear."

I consider taking out my earpiece before remembering that I'll supposedly be needed. And given the strict, orderly person that President Coin seems to be, I know she won't be pleased if I don't report in on time.

With a sigh, I settle back down and allow myself to drift off in the first proper rest I've had since before the last Quell. Not that my sleep is uninterrupted anyway. Because once you've been in the Games, the nightmares never really end.

I'm peering over the cliff, grinning at my discovery when I hear the scream. I recognize it instantly and horror fills me, ending bringing my triumph to an abrupt halt. I race up to the thorn bushes and duck as I crawl through the hole I'd blowtorched. The screams continue and I don't know what drives me towards them.

"Maysilee!" Her name instinctively slips from my mouth as I run.

I burst into a small clearing in the trees, where the dirt is replaced by wild grass and flowers. I see a fluffy pink bird pulling its long beak from Maysilee's neck, covered in blood. Similar blood soaked birds are nearby and they all fly off at the sight of me swinging my knife through the air.

I race to my District member's side, dropping the knife and falling to my knees. Her hand stretches out towards mine, seeking comfort. I take hold of it and hold on tight.

She tries to say something, but all I hear is her blood gurgling in her throat.

"Don't try to talk." I beg, lightly shaking my head. My voice is shaking. "Stay with me, May."

I see the tears leak from her eyes as she fights the pain. My own eyes burn and I blink desperately, willing myself not to cry.

"I'm sorry." I whisper as her trembling body stills, my head hanging in defeat. My own tears finally fall. "God, I'm sorry, May."

I'm awoken by a single word spoken through the earpiece.

"Touchdown."