A/N: And so, the end has finally come. Hope you all enjoyed this alternative story with Haymitch in Peeta's place. I know I did.

Epilogue:

Peeta returns the following spring. Katniss is out hunting when he does. I greet him and ask about Annie. He tells me that she's getting along fine, that she's moved back to Four as the birth of her son grows nearer.

"Where's Katniss?"

"Hunting."

"That's good." He says. "I'm glad she still does. It means something's still the same around here."

I'm glad too.

He tells me that he plans on going out to the woods. To pick primroses. He plans on planting them in front of her house before she gets back. I offer a hand.

"It's something I need to do for her myself, Haymitch." Peeta politely declines.

And I let him.

Katniss returns, successful in her hunt. I watch from my window as she and Peeta embrace, her dropping the bow and bird in her hands. My heart goes out to her, knowing how she must feel about it: appreciative, yet grieved.

We receive a letter from Annie a month or two later.

"You'll be happy to hear that Katniss's mother has been training new medical units in the Capitol." Peeta reads. "Gale has been promoted to a captain in District Two to help keep order and security. And I am loving every moment with my son, who reminds me every day of his father. We've all suffered so much, but we owe it to their memories and to our children to do our best with these lives. I hope you three are finding some peace. - Annie."

He puts the letter down on the kitchen counter and shows us the picture that came with the letter, of Annie holding her son. They look well; they look happy.

Not everyone who survived the bombing of Twelve returns. Many elect to stay in the Capitol or the other Districts. Paylor, who secured her place as the first democratically elected president of Panem, sends some help from the other Districts. And slowly, we begin to rebuild our home.

The country flourishes under Paylor's rule. She establishes a solid system of trade between the Districts. Twelve starves no longer. But Katniss keeps hunting anyway. And Peeta starts baking again. And I do what I do best; I help them along.

Johanna writes sometimes. She mostly complains about things, especially people being idiots, but it is nice to hear from her. Beetee writes too, though rarely. He talks much of electrical things and technology, so I don't understand a lot of it. Not that I mind. I'm glad he keeps in touch with us, both of them.

I take up wood carving as a hobby. I'm not sure if it's because of the comfort of holding a knife or because it's soothing. Given the fact that I keep drinking, though not as bad as I used to, it's a miracle I don't cut off any fingers. I give most of the carvings to the other Victors and sell almost everything else. It brings joy to me to hear that Annie's son loves his small wooden trident, to see that Katniss displays her giant mockingjay pin on her front door like a wreath.

It's good to have subtle reminders of the past, for I find that it helps us along in our journey to move on.

As time goes by, the last effects of my hijacking begin to finally fade. At first, I often go into fear-induced rampages, but they fade away. I'm more sure of myself now than I have been in a long time. All the memories are still here in my head, but I know which ones are real and which aren't. All of them.

Everything's so different now, but so many things are almost just as they once were.

Even Peeta and Katniss seem to start to get over the horrors of the past. I get a letter from her mother to pass on to her. She stumbles upon her sister's cat and keeps it, though from what I know, she's never been fond of it. Peeta moves in with the unlikely pair of them.

I discover that they'd started a little memory book of sorts. Each page has an image or painting of a person one of the three of us knew. Then Katniss writes in the details about that person that we'd eventually forget if they weren't written down.

There are so many people in it, from Primrose to Cinna to Finnick and even Rue. I add in my pitch, mostly tributes I mentored over the years. There's forty-six of them, but I remember them all. I don't forget to add Maysilee either. As time passes, smaller additions are made. The photo of Annie and her son are added in on Finnick's page, a carved mockingjay pin on Maysilee's; it was originally her pin, after all.

Everything feels lighter, with our burdens poured out into the book.

I find that I can watch my first Games without wanting to disappear. I keep the tape only so I can remember, because it helps me get over it all. Sometimes I feel like smashing it, but I never do because I know I'll regret it.

Things are going well in Twelve.

The town stands tall again, flourishing under the new economical system. The coal mines are closed off and forgotten about. A medicine factory is built up. The fence surrounding the District is torn down.

It's never been such a bright place here; it's never felt more like home than it does now.

And I know that everything's going to be okay.