I do not own 'The Hunger Games' trilogy or anything related.


Even if my family were still alive, even if I hadn't fallen into alcoholism, I still wouldn't want to go on this tour, wanting to forget the Hunger Games as if it was just a nightmare. But that was impossible. The capitol wouldn't allow us to forget, and the victory tour was an example of that, situated right between games when the last games was still fresh in everyone's mind. I was especially dreading looking into the faces of the grieving families whose members I had a part in killing…

An upside of having no one around is that I didn't have to bother to wash. It wasn't that I didn't like it, or that I couldn't be bothered, it's just that I didn't have good experiences with water. I decided that a bath was the lesser of two evils, and that I could just wash my face later. As I relaxed in the bath, careful not to submerge entirely, knowing that the time when I had to get out was coming near, I didn't want to come out. Not because I was relaxed, but because I knew the moment I came out I had to quickly dry myself so that none of the poison was on me. I had to remind myself that the water I was bathing in was not poisonous, and to prove that, I actually drank some of the water to assure myself. It was foul, but I was still alive.

There was a knock on the door.

"Go away!" I instinctively said.

There was a familiar gruff on the other side of the door.

"I was just letting you know that your prep team has arrived outside, so if you don't want them barging in when you're still naked…."

I took Ray's warning at heart. Even though she didn't have to be here, Ray insisted to do so anyway. Getting out, drying myself, I had gotten a dressing gown on myself when the prep team came barging in.

After they were done preparing me, Ray came in.

"Right. Let's take a look at you. Hmm. Need some work on your tie."

As she fiddled with my tie, I was reminded of doing the same thing for Larie…

"Any tips for me about what to do during all this?"

"This is pretty much new to me as it is for you."

"Really?" This took me by surprise. I mean I guessed that during the early games they were still working out the kinks (how to keep the games going long enough, how to ensure there was enough violence), but I assumed that the tour at least had always been part of it, as a way to keep the event fresh in people's minds.

"Hah! You victors these days have no idea how easy you've got. They didn't pamper us or give us the attention like they give you today. No fine meals for us or nice sleeping quarters and bathrooms to wash and shit in! No! We were all thrown in chained at the back of the train, just to be thrown into the old zoo. They didn't even train us, we had to use our own skills and wits to survive! I didn't even get my own nice house until a few years afterward!"

I was pretty sure she was exaggerating. This was just more of her old people's "Good old days" garbage, like trying to convince me that District 12 tributes used to be brilliant but not brilliant enough to win ("The game is rigged", I remember her muttering), only this time she was saying that we were all soft compared to the victors of her days.

"Well. It'll do, I guess."

She patted me on the shoulders.

"I do have one thing to tell you."

I think she must have noticed the pain on my face earlier, because the next thing she whispered as if to make sure no one could hear, "Remember. Don't give them any satisfaction."

I nodded. Even though I never admitted it, I was grateful for the support she had given me these last six months. For following six months of support she would give me.

Eula readied everyone before opening the door. Using the same mask that I had used all my life, before the door had opened, I put on a scowl as I did when my name first came out. At once cameras were flashing, reporters speaking at the same time so it was hard to know what they were saying. Do not give them satisfaction. I kept up my mask throughout the whole journey from the house to the train. People waved me goodbye, but I didn't know who it was or cared. I was worried looking back, worried that Mel might be among the crowd.

Later that night, it took me a moment to realise that I was no longer a teenager going on his first victory tour, but a middle aged man. Sometimes I can get so lost in reminiscing that I can lose track of when I am (And the alcohol doesn't help!). Well so far it went well. Katniss and Peeta's reunion on camera went well, (the part where he slipped and they fell on the ground was a plus!). As I sat there in my chair, with a glass of wine in my hand, I was wondering how long were they supposed to keep up the farce. Maybe at the next Hunger Games, at least. I thought about how this year was going to be another quarter quell. Not just that, but that Katniss and Peeta would be mentoring the tributes. Not me, though. I'll probably be getting drunk as usual (And probably more so this year given that it was a Quarter Quell and that the last one they had was the one I won, bringing extra attention to myself!). I know it sounds selfish, to leave this sorrowful job to others, but it took me almost twenty five years to make at least one victor. I don't think I had it in me to go through all that for another twenty five years. Besides, I would always be on hand to mentor the mentors. I wondered what route they were going to take. Would they both choose the one tribute, leaving the other without sponsorship, or would they each take a favourite, competing against each other as much as each district? I wondered what sort of strain that would put on their already strained relationship. Perhaps that will be recognised by the Capitol. Perhaps that will give them enough reason to let them drift apart.

I remember the first year when I would have become a mentor, how difficult it was to pass school without wondering who it was I would end up mentoring. My biggest fear (When they were still alive or I was still friendly with (for want of a more accurate word)) was that it would be either Larie, or Rachelle, or Mel. I also dreaded the idea of Maysilee's sister, it would have been like her going through the arena all over again, only this time I wouldn't be in there to save her (all the good I did before). It's not that at the time I wasn't confident that I could make a mentor, I still wouldn't want anyone I cared about to go through it. Even a couple of weeks later, the thought of Mel being a tribute would have been awkward, considering that I was doing my best to keep my distance.

Mel. I had been thinking more about him lately, probably because my latest female tribute is his daughter. Still hadn't had the guts to mention to her that we were friends. That was bound to go down well. "By the way Katniss, I knew your father, he was my best friend and something of a brother to me before I told him to get lost after calling him a collaborator. So sorry I wasn't around when you were struggling after he died!" Things were bad enough between us without mentioning that little detail! I decided to think of happier times between me and her father, or at least, less aggressive times.


It took the reporters and cameramen a couple of days before they left. I spent most of my free time just walking around the district, with them hovering around me like a swarm of flies. And just as annoying too. I was tempted to swat at least one of them, but that would have just drawn more interest. There were times when they filmed me at home with my family, with Rachelle, and Mel, but when it seemed like nothing interesting was happening it was time for them to leave. In the mean time I locked the door to my bedroom, and held one of the kitchen knives to bed as if it was a stuffed animal that small capitol children would hold to fend off the nightmares. When the last of them went I went down to the apothecary to find some medicine that could help. We could hardly afford them before, but now that we were rich. I opened the door to see the owner.

"Ah, Mr Abernathy! I'll be right with you!"

I had to suppress a grin. Mr Abernathy. It wasn't too long ago that I was referred to as 'Seam Trash' or 'Seam rat' or…anything else that made me seen as worthless because I was seam! It was amazing how a pile of cash can buy you respect, especially if you want someone's services.

"So, what can I do for you?"

"Um, yes. I was wondering…if you had anything…for bad nights."

Mr Oak raised his eyebrow at me.

"For my mother," I added quickly, "She hasn't been sleeping well lately."

I hoped Ma wouldn't be too mad if I used her as an excuse and say it was her who was having nightmares. I could tell he was sceptical, but accepted my answer regardless.

"Ok then. Let's see."

As he searched through his shelves the doorbell rang again. I looked around, and to my dismay, Mel had come in. This was the last person I wanted to know that I was having problems. He looked at me the moment he came in.

"Ah, Mr Everdeen! Good to see you!"

Mel was one of the few seam folk that the merchants respected. Given that he did provide them with resources, in the apothecary's case, plants and herbs that would be useful for medicine. Even insects and the like.

"Just thought I'd drop off a few plants I found by the fence."

By the fence. More like over the fence, although he couldn't say that's where he found them. And even though Oak didn't fully believe him, he didn't care.

"Oh Pheena, if you could service Mr Everdeen."

Mr Oak's daughter walked in. Pheena Oak, the most popular girl at school (if you were townfolk, that is, although even seam folk admitted they found her attractive). Out of all the merchant girls, before Maysilee, she was my favourite. Whenever at school I would pass by the gang of girls, giggling, talking about clothes and boys, whenever they would catch sight of me they would look at me as if I was a piece of dirt. Not Pheena, though. She at least looked at me with concern.

Well, now that I think about it, I guess Maysilee didn't look at me with disdain, either. Not like her sister.

"Oh yes, of course, Papa. Morning, Mr Everdeen."

"Morning, Ms Oak," Mel greeted.

They both greeted each other in a rather too formal fashion.

"Now let's see what you brought us today."

Mel gave her the bag.

"Huh, what's this?"

Pheena picked up a flower.

"Now how did that get in there?" Mel asked innocently, "That doesn't have any medicinal properties, so you can just throw it away if you like."

I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes. How did it get in there. I probably don't need to tell you that Mel had a crush on Pheena. Course, I thought he was wasting his time. I still remember how last Hunger Games when we were lined up he caught her eye and winked at her. I didn't stop my eyes from rolling that time.

"Why do you do this to yourself?"

"Do what?"

"Go after the unattainable? I mean she's a merchant girl and you're seam trash."

"Not gonna let that stop me."

I groaned. It was pointless trying to tell Mel that something was out of his reach. Try telling someone who goes into the woods every day.

"No, I don't think I will. Thank you."

Taking the flower from his hands, their hands interlocked.

Hello.

"Right then!"

The two quickly released their hands as I too quickly looked away.

"You know, I'm surprised you didn't go to the doctors for their services."

That's right. That should have been the place to go. It's just that we were used to thinking of the apothecary as our doctors, considering that we were too poor. Well, we're not anymore.

"Ahem! Mind you I'm sure what's here will work just as well!" Mr Oak quickly added, suddenly thinking that he might have been directing a customer elsewhere.

"Thank you."

As I left, Mel did at the same time.

"What's in the bag?" He asked.

"Just something for my Ma," I replied.

"Oh. Right."

He sounded as much convinced as Mr Oak. For a moment, we just walked without speaking.

"Mitch," He finally said as we were about to part ways, "I won't pretend that I know what you went through. I mean we all saw what you went through, but I won't pretend I knew what was going on inside your mind. What I'm saying is-"

He placed his hand on my shoulder.

"If you ever want to talk about it, I'm here for you, Man."

Opening up. The one thing I was reluctant to do. Well okay, not the only thing, but one thing especially! The only person I had only ever opened up to at that point was Maysilee, and that was only because for the sake of our alliance, and the fact that she had opened up herself. So what do I do when someone tries to get me to open up? I deflect.

"Sure," I grinned, "And maybe later we can take turns braiding our hair."

Mel stared at me.

"Well," He shrugged, "Just let me know when you want to, okay? It's not just merchant girls who talk about their feelings."

I was reminded that he along with the rest of Panem had watched me.

"See ya," When he returned to his home.

"Yeah, see ya," I replied.

When I returned to our new house, I saw Raybearta Wallace, next door, outside.

"So you've gone to the apothecary, have you?" She asked me.

"So what if I have?" I asked, continuing to walk back into my house.

"That won't work."

I stopped at turning the door handle. I looked at her.

"Those drugs the apothecary given you? They won't work. The drugs at the doctors might work a little better, but they won't cure you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Please, Boy, I've been through what you've been through, there's no point lying to me."

No. I guess there wasn't.

"I have the best medicine in my house."

She walked back in her house. Curious, I -

I heard knocking at the door to my compartment. Snapping back to the present, I felt a little disoriented. Again there was a knock, and continual knocking when I hadn't answered.

"Alright I'm coming!"

Putting down the glass, I opened the door.

"What do you want?" I snapped.

"I have to talk to you," Katniss whispered to me.

"Now?" I asked.

She nodded.

"This better be good."

However, instead of saying what it was she just remained silent.

"Well?" I snapped.

Look sweetheart, if you're gonna pester me at this time of day, at least go through with telling me what it is, I thought to myself as the train braked.

"The train's so stuffy in here," She said.

I instantly realised her implication.

"I know what you need."

I pushed passed Katniss to get to a door down the hallway. Wrestling it open, a blast of cold wind hit us. I tripped out as I reached the ground. A Capitol attendant came to my aid, but I waved her off good-naturedly, just saying that I needed some fresh air. I heard Katniss tell the attendant that she would go after me, and that I was drunk.

Probably was.

I understood what was troubling Katniss. Obviously it was something Capitol related, and she was hesitant to say anything due to fears of the train being bugged (Which it probably was). And whatever it was it must really be bad if she's coming to me for advice! When I was certain we were far enough away from any prying ears, I asked Katniss "Well?"

And that was when she told me. How on the day before the tour started, President Snow came to visit her, telling her that her actions in the arena that saved Peeta's life has incited rebellion across the country, people thinking that since she got away from the capitol's justice, then why can't they? She also told me how Snow somehow found out about her best friend, Gale Hawthorne, kissed her, and that she needed to convince Panem that her actions were not that of a rebel, but simply of a girl madly in love. I felt something drop in me. I was so sure that once we had convinced the capitol that her actions were purely out of love and not rebellion, it was clear sailing from there. Or at least, that's what I convinced myself. But it seemed that even though the capitol were convinced, the districts weren't.

"Then you can't fail," I told her.

"If you could just help me get through the tour-"

Oh Katniss. I thought you were smarter than that.

"No, Katniss. It's not just this tour."

"What do you mean?"

I mapped out her future, how even after the trip, there would be the 75th games, that the two of them will be mentors from now on, that every year they would return to the romance and broadcast the private details of their lives and that she'll never be able to do anything else but live happily ever after with Peeta. I could see the impact of my words were dawning on her, what I meant by that. Because she was so young she was safe for now, expected to stay with her family, but a few years after that…

In order to keep everyone she cares about safe, she'll have to marry Peeta.