I. Voluntary Madness

Here it was silent, and it had the semblance
Of being turned else whither, by the wheel
On which it entered as it was before.

Noel Alighieri. 18.
District Twelve Citizen.
TW: Alcoholism.

He swears time and time again that Haymitch has changed ever since returning from the Capitol. Not the first time, no, no… the second, the 51st Games, Noel's boyfriend's first time mentoring. Well, it would be ludicrous for him to say Haymitch didn't change after he won his own Games, the previously playful boy he fell in love with over two years ago was tarnished and scarred into a mere shell, but he still had his moments of joy, though Noel couldn't blame him for having so few of them. He'd lost so much, his mother right in front of him and then his father and sisters slumped over on the ground dead when they returned from a date. Maybe it's the fact Noel's always considered himself an optimist, but he always hoped Haymitch would be able to eventually summit his mountain of pain, even if it took a decade or two. Noel would've helped him, it's the least he could do.

Noel's more than familiar with loss, the mineshaft explosions of the previous year tearing his family to shreds both metaphorically and literally, yet he understand the fact that Haymitch's suffering is different. It was targeted, intentional to his personal suffering and torture, while Noel's family was just collateral damage to the 6,000 or more dead in the caves. Yet it should have brought them closer together, two boys with their family's gone overnight, the only thing left being each other. And it did, or at least it did for a moment, at least it did until Haymitch arrived at their house after the 51st Games, a flask in his hand and a jaded scowl on his face.

He still remembers the first interaction he had with Haymitch upon his return. Noel started with something friendly, around the lines of, "I missed you so much and I'm so glad your home."

Yet Haymitch had brushed right past him, his eyes glazed cold as he hobbled up the stairs. He mumbled, "What's the point of it all?" his voice completely sucked of the little joy it had remaining.

Noel gave him some time before trying to speak to his lover that day, at least a few hours passing before he arrived to their bedroom with a bowl of the salad he had just freshly prepared. He cracked open to door to speak, "Are you hungry?"

There wasn't an answer so Noel simply stepped into the room to find Haymitch sitting over on the edge of their bed, that same flask in his hand and tear-stains on the corners of his eyes.

Concerned, Noel remembers asking, "What's in there?" which as it turns out was all it took to get Haymitch to start talking.

"Whisky," At first his voice was monotone, "Takes the edge off, want some?"

Noel refused. Alcohol had already driven his mother against his father, not that it mattered anymore, but the last thing he wanted was for it to ruin Haymitch too.

He went on a small rant about how he wasn't very pleased about what seemed to be his boyfriend's new habit; he'd never had anything besides water and juice previously as far as Noel knew. And it came from a place of genuine concern, "Did something happen in the Capitol that led to this? Do you think you're going to be okay?"

Haymitch shrugged, "What's it matter to you?" and took another sip from the flask, "I'm fine, Noel."

"Promise?" Noel remembers holding out his pinky, which Haymitch took immediately.

"Promise."

As the year went by it became very clear that Haymitch had lied that day. Whenever Noel returned from running errands he would come across his boyfriend passed out on the couch, bottles at his feet and drool from his lips. More of a shell than ever before, Noel's had no choice but to wonder what the catalyst of this sudden downwards spiral is. Sure, his two Tributes had preformed rather poorly, but that was practically a given for Twelve, hence why Haymitch and whoever it was that won before him were regarded as outliers, miracles too depending on who was talking. Noel wondered why Haymitch had even expected much better, it was again a given that being from Twelve and being in the Games was a death sentence and nothing could be done to fix it.

So Noel doubts Twelve's failure in the 51st had anything to do with Haymitch's slump, though that only leaves him with even more questions. Was the grief of his family suddenly hitting him worse than it had before, or was this an entirely new situation that Noel knew nothing about? Lord, he misses the days when Haymitch would just tell him things instead of acting so moody all of the time. Then again, it's hard to blame him.

He sits besides Haymitch on the couch asks one day, "Are you ready to admit that you have a problem?" Being straightforwards has always been a strength of Noel's and there's no better time for him to employ it then now.

"I can stop drinking whenever I want," His words are almost exactly the same as Noel's mother's were several years back, "So… that means, it's not a problem."

But his words are beginning to slur together and Noel's trying his best to not cry for the boy he's loved for so long who's suddenly disappearing into the air, "Ever since you got home last summer you've just been drinking. I had to practically drag you out of the house for the victory tour a few months ago."

Again, Haymitch might as well be mimicking the late Mrs. Alighieri, "It's not my fault this is the only thing that makes me feel something."

And Noel feels a small part of himself break that day. Does this mean he's suddenly no good to Haymitch? Does this mean his entire existence, their entire relationship was worthless since Haymitch could have just drank away all of his problems to begin with? Is Noel a fool for even trying to help fix him when alcohol's a better glue than his words will ever be?

He whispers, "What about me?"

The living room goes quiet for a minute, neither of the boys talking and instead just looking each other in the eyes. A breeze enters through the window and brushes away the papers on the coffee table yet it goes unnoticed.

Finally, Haymitch sets down the bottle in his hand and a tear rolls down his face, "I have to get used to you not being able to fix everything, Noel. They took away my family, it's only a matter of time before they take away you too."

This time, Noel's certain that his lover's not lying.

…Hey besties! Um… yeah, ACD Prologue while DT is still in the Games (that are wrapping up xx) because I can and this project makes me very hype.

For those of you who don't know me, my name is Linds and this is my 5th SYOT (wtf)! It's the direct sequel to Domestic Tranquility which proceeds two other stories. Submissions are open until June 30th and there's information on my profile for those who are interested in submitting. I'll be taking 16 Tributes to every spot except 12M because… well, hopefully this prologue helps you understand.

Because yeah, Mr. Abernathy is drunk off his ass now. You may be wondering, why? And well, that's a very good question that the remainder of DT will answer I just think non-chronological storytelling can be sexy. I… am very sorry Haymitch I am mean to you but hey, canon did it first I just made it longer and gayer.

Yeah, that's all I have to say for now… would love to see some submissions from folks, since that's always fun. If you have interest in a spot or have questions, feel free to message me here or on Discord (or text me if you're one of the like 5 people here who has my number).

Bye for now,

Linds