Last Time in Damaged, Broken, and Unhinged:

"You're nicer than I would be."

"Maybe. Maybe if I weren't working for Haymitch I would do it. But I am, and he pays me well."

She looks around the kitchen. "Fair enough."

She doesn't get to say anything more, because Delly, Thom, and Peeta return with the first pails full of sap. Time to get to work.

For the rest of the afternoon, Nata and I work together companionably, and to my complete surprise she gives me a quick hug at the end of the day. "I hope when Peeta and I break up, we can still be friends."

"Sure. I'd like that."

And to my surprise, the words are actually true.

oOo

Damaged, Broken, and Unhinged
by RoseFyre & FanficAllergy

oOo

Chapter Twenty: Less Cold and More Just

oOo

"A little bit of mercy makes the world less cold and more just."
― Pope Francis

oOo

The six of us work all weekend, tapping trees and making syrup. Delly and Thom have promised to continue collecting sap for as long as it's running, storing it in a couple more containers that I pick up from the dry goods store. I'll boil it down while I'm working, checking on the concoction often to make sure it doesn't burn.

It's easy food. Unfortunately, it's about the only thing that is easy right now.

Taking care of Haymitch is like taking care of a toddler. He's demanding and messy and opinionated. When I'm there at the same time he is, he follows me around the house asking for things. Most of the time it's for something new to eat. But sometimes it's for something that sends me scurrying into town to find whatever it is the Victor wants now.

It's no surprise that he and Aven get along great.

Like they're best friends, even.

On Sunday, he insisted on playing with my brother while the rest of us worked. For the most part I didn't mind - it freed Prim up to do even more gathering - except when he and Aven stomped into the kitchen and demanded a snack, refusing everything I offered until they finally settled on pancakes with the new maple syrup.

With Nata and Delly there, I was finally able to move on to cleaning other parts of Haymitch's house. I literally shoveled a path to the staircase then upstairs to the nearest bedroom. I don't know where Haymitch has been sleeping… no, that's a lie: he sleeps where he falls. But the man needs a bedroom. Unfortunately, none of the six rooms that could be a bedroom are fit for human occupation.

Eyeing the piles of clothing and soiled linens, I remember Haymitch's instructions to hire someone to do the laundry. My mind immediately goes to Hazelle. I know the Hawthornes need the money - everyone in the Seam needs the money. The question is, if I give her extra work, will she still be able to take care of Aven?

I decide to talk to her today after school.

When she opens the door and sees me, her eyes widen. "I was beginning to wonder if you still existed, or if you'd become a ghost like your mother."

"No, not a ghost. Just working a lot."

"I've heard. Haymitch." So word's gotten around the Seam. Good to know. "How's that going?"

I shrug. "It keeps me busy, but the money's nice."

"I can imagine. I'm sure it pays better than the mines."

I nod. No need to say how much, even though the question is implied.

Hazelle's eyes crinkle at the corners. "Good for you, girl. Are you here to get your brother?"

"Yes," I say even though I wasn't. "But I also wanted to talk to you."

"Oh?" Her whole demeanor changes, her voice flat.

I need to cut her suspicion off at the root. "Haymitch wanted me to hire a person to do his laundry."

"Oh!" Her tone shifts from flat and wary to almost eager. "How much laundry are we talking about?"

"A lot. Really a lot. At least at first. Things will let up eventually, but even then it'll be steady." I want her to understand just how much work this will be. "And I won't be able to drop it off."

"I could send Gale or Rory to pick it up," Hazelle is quick to say. "It'd have to be after school, of course."

"That's fine."

"And I wouldn't be able to do it right away." I can tell she doesn't want this opportunity to slip away, but she also doesn't want to oust her regulars just because I have work for her.

"That's fine too," I say, waving her concerns away. "Gale or Rory will have to come by every day for at least the next couple of weeks until I manage to clean everything up. Once his house is in order, we can figure out a regular schedule. But for now, this is going to be steady, daily work."

From the way Hazelle's gray eyes light up, I can see that my offer couldn't have come at a better time. I look around her house, really look around it, and I can see just how threadbare and worn everything is. Anything of value that isn't necessary is gone. Picture frames, kitchen utensils, even furniture. The desperation in this house is palpable.

It reminds me of my own desperate circumstances.

Speaking of… "Will you still be able to watch Aven if you do this?"

"Of course," she says quickly, almost too quickly. Then she pauses, her eyes narrowing. "But wouldn't it be easier for your mom to watch him?"

I make a decision, one that I hope doesn't come back to bite me. "My mom's been sick for the last few weeks." I do my best to make it sound like something passing, something my mom will eventually heal from. "I'm sure she'll be better, but she's in no shape to watch over an active child right now. And Prim, well… Prim's having a rebellious stage." I lean in. "I'm sure you know how that is."

"Oh my yes." She pats her hair with a chuckle. "Rory's been on a right tear. And of course you know how Gale is."

"That I do." I change the subject off of my ex-boyfriend and back to the matter at hand. "So if it's okay with you, can Aven stay a bit later most days? It'd mean a lot to me."

"Well, since I know you're so busy with Haymitch, I'm sure we can work something out. Now let's discuss pricing."

With a smile on my face and a lighter heart, I settle into a spirited bargaining session. It's nice to have this weight off my shoulders.

oOo

When I get to Haymitch's that night, he's beyond grumpy. He's clearly been sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle of white liquor for a while, undoubtedly waiting for me.

My suspicions are confirmed as soon as he opens his mouth. "Where've you been?"

"I have to go to school." I say it like it should be obvious. He knows I'm still Reaping age, and he knows just how much - or rather how little - money I have.

But that doesn't seem to register because he crosses his arms and glares at me. "Well I'm hungry!"

"You've got lots of food." I point to the cabinets. "Open a can and heat up some soup." I pick up the can opener and wave it in front of his face before putting it back in its regular spot on the now cleaned counters. "The can opener is right here." I pat the thing to emphasize my point.

"I'm sick of soup! I want something good." He pauses, considering. "And fresh."

"You don't have anything fresh." I finally emptied the ice box. It was filled with who knows what underneath the thick carpet of mold. It's been sitting empty, mostly because I haven't had the time or energy to refill it with items from the greengrocer.

Haymitch calls me on it. "That's not my problem. You're my housekeeper, it's your responsibility to make sure that I have food!"

I close my eyes and take several deep breaths, reminding myself that this is the man who's keeping my family from starvation. I can deal with his toddler-like behavior. "So what do you want?" I'm impressed my voice is as even as it is.

"I dunno."

"You don't want soup."

He gestures at me with the bottle. "That's right."

"Do you want pancakes?"

"Had 'em yesterday."

I open the cabinets and stare at the contents. "Do you want noodles?"

"What kind of noodles?" he asks, his voice suspicious.

I pull out some bowtie pasta. "These kind of noodles with some tomato sauce?"

"I suppose…"

That's as close to a yes as I'm going to get out of Haymitch. "Good, I'll make that for you."

Taking a swig of his liquor, he points at me. "But I want something fresh tomorrow. Nothing from a can or these cupboards."

"Fine."

As I cook Haymitch's dinner, I think to myself, Great. Looks like I'm skipping school again tomorrow.

oOo

I get up early, trusting Prim to feed Mom and take Aven to Hazelle's. I've got a lot of shopping to do, and I don't want to set off any alarm bells if I can avoid it.

My first stop is the greengrocer, where I pick up an assortment of fruits and vegetables. It's not cheap and I desperately want to haggle over the prices, but Haymitch can easily afford it and I know that I won't save that much. My next stop is the butcher's. Rooba doesn't have much, just some sausages and cheese. It's a lean time, and even the merchants are having to make their supplies stretch. What I really would like are a few chickens. Maybe Haymitch will calm down if he can have an omelet every couple of days.

With that thought still fresh in my mind, I ask the butcher, "Do you know where I could get some chickens?" The only places I know of are from the Peacekeepers or putting in an order to the Capitol. The first requires me to actually talk to the Peacekeepers, who might ask questions or notice that I'm there when I should be someplace else - like school. The second means I'm going to have to wait for several weeks. Neither is a good option.

Rooba shrugs. "I'm fresh out of chickens. Cray bought my last one." She thinks about it for a moment. "Have you tried the Peacekeepers?"

I nod my head. "They're out," I say. Even though I haven't.

"I'm not surprised. Only other place I know that might have hens available to sell is the bakery."

That's a surprise, but it makes sense. I'm sure the cake recipes require eggs, and I know the meringues do. They'd almost have to have their own flock.

I thank the butcher and head out. The bakery was on my shopping list anyway. I planned on going there last; in case there was any trouble, I could just go straight to Haymitch's. But I guess now's the time.

Taking a deep breath, I open the door and step inside, listening to the jingle of the bells over the door.

"How can I help you today?" Mrs. Mellark's voice chirps out before I hear a much more sedated,"Oh."

I plaster a smile on my face that I don't feel and say, "I need to get some bread, please." The manners my mother drilled into Prim and me comes to the forefront. "And I heard that you might have some chickens that I could buy off of you."

Her lip curls. "What do you need with chickens?"

"Oh, they're not for me. They're for Haymitch." I try to imitate Nata's inflection without much success. "I'm his new housekeeper, you know."

"I'd heard a rumor that was the case." Her eyes flick to my threadbare clothes. "I'm surprised he picked you."

I can feel the anger slither up my neck, but I viciously tamp it down. Anger won't get me anywhere. Politeness will… I hope. "I'd like to buy three chickens, if they're available."

"I have three chickens."

"Laying?" I press.

It's a good thing I do, because she amends, "I have two laying chickens and one that's destined for the stewpot."

"How much?"

She quotes a price that's so outrageous I can't help but laugh at her audacity. "I could buy twenty chickens for that."

"Not right now you can't," she says with a hint of superiority.

I'm not having it. "True. But two laying chickens and one stringy old hen are not worth what you're asking for. I'll take my business and coin someplace else." I don't even bother making a counter offer. She quoted that price because she doesn't want to sell to me, and I need to make it clear what her prejudice is going to cost her. I might be Seam, but I'm not somebody she can cow. "Oh, and I won't need the bread. I'll just hire someone else to make it for me. I'm sure Chet would be happy to do so… after all, he's married to my cousin."

I see a flash of respect in her eyes before she quickly covers it up and says, "My apologies. I didn't mean five hundred coin. I meant fifty."

I raise an eyebrow. It's closer, but still exceptionally overpriced. "Twenty five."

"Forty five."

I do a little mental math and know where the final result is going to be. Thirty five. That's acceptable. I'll stop at the Justice Building on my way home and order more, but this should be a good start. "Why don't we just say thirty five since that's where we're going to end up and call it good?"

Peeta's mother lets out a short bark of laughter. "You bargain like a merchant."

I know she means it as a compliment, but I can't help but bristle a bit at her words. I know I'm supposed to say thank you, but the words stick in my throat. Instead what comes out is, "I bargain like I'm from Twelve. It's not a skill that's unique to merchants."

Giving a half-shrug, she changes the subject. "So what else can I get you?"

I point to a few of the loaves of bread and a couple of poppyseed muffins, which she carefully puts into a bag. "While I'm at it, I also want to set up a daily delivery of bread to Haymitch's house." The less time I have to spend shopping, the better.

Her eyes glitter with anticipation. "How much bread?"

"A loaf of the country white every other day and a rotation of the oat nut, cinnamon raisin, rye, and cheese bread on the other days. On Sundays, Haymitch would also like to have a delivery of six doughnuts and six cheese buns."

If anything, the anticipatory glitter intensifies. "When would you want this bread?"

"Oh, have Peeta deliver it after school," I say as if I didn't plan the last bit. I miss seeing my friend since he started dating Nata and I started working. "Speaking of your son, I could also use some help carrying my new chickens and today's bread order back to Haymitch's house. Do you think you can spare Peeta for this little errand?" I'm channeling Effie Trinket's tones and I know it.

But it seems to have the desired effect. Mrs. Mellark rings up my order and calls out to Peeta while I dig out the necessary coin.

My friend appears, his shirttails still untucked and only one suspender flung over his shoulder. "Katniss!" he says when he sees me and hurriedly tries to straighten his clothes.

Before I can say hello, his mother jumps in with, "Miss Everdeen, Haymitch Abernathy's new housekeeper, requires your assistance with her purchases." She brushes Peeta's hair out of his face and straightens it with a lick of her fingers. "You'll also be bringing a daily delivery to our esteemed Victor's abode."

'Abode?' Peeta mouths at me and I shrug. If his mom wants to channel President Snow to counter my Effie Trinket, she's welcome to it.

I smile as sweetly as I can manage. "Oh thank you ever so much, Mrs. Mellark." Butter couldn't melt in my mouth.

"Oh please, call me Gretchen." She's using the same tone I am. That whole 'I'm going to kill you with kindness' that no one outside of Twelve can seem to master.

"Of course, dear Gretchen," I say, putting deliberate emphasis on her first name but not giving her permission to call me Katniss. This way she knows who's in charge, and it isn't her. "Until next time. I'll take those chickens now."

The baker's wife scrambles to the back and I can hear her talking excitedly with her husband.

Peeta first stares into the back and then sidles over to me. "What did you do?"

"I bargained with her."

"I haven't seen her this happy since Johnny's engagement!" He leans over and whispers, "She likes you."

"I don't know." I shake my head. "Haymitch wants fresh food so I'm setting up deliveries. I don't trust the greengrocer not to sell me bruised or wormy food, but I know if you're doing the delivery, you'll make sure that I don't get cheated." I pause and look into his eyes. "I trust you."

He tucks his shirt in and fastens his suspenders. "So can I walk you to school after?"

I shake my head, feeling a little twinge of disappointment well up within me. "No. But you can come over and hang out with me at Haymitch's after school."

His face lights up. "I'd like that."

oOo

I don't bother going to school again the day after. While Haymitch is in a much better mood after I feed him the roast chicken, his house still isn't even remotely livable. I need to get at least one bedroom habitable, and I didn't manage yesterday.

I've got a stack of clothes and linens for Hazelle that's almost as tall as Prim, and I had to burn the first mattress I found because a colony of rodents had set up shop in it.

Gross.

The whole room needs to be scrubbed down multiple times before it's fit to be lived in. Even with Delly's help, it's not enough, and Thom's too busy outside taking care of all of the animals and watching our trash fire to help inside.

By the time the sun sets, the room has been scrubbed until it glistens. The oil on the wooden floor still needs to soak in and the walls need to dr. But by the end of this week, Haymitch should have a real place to sleep.

I make a note to stop by town on my way home to have a mattress delivered tomorrow morning. The joiner should have one, and if not, he'll know where to get one.

Gale comes by soon after to pick up the first bag of laundry. He sees the pile I've created in the kitchen and just stares at it. "Is it really that bad?"

"Worse."

He whistles. "Damn, Catnip, you just can't stay out of trouble."

I hate that nickname. I always have. "And you just can't stop putting your foot in your mouth."

Gale sighs. "Yeah. I've heard that before. I just… wanted to say thanks for thinking of my ma. And that you're not half-bad." The words sound rehearsed. Insincere. Like a little kid being forced to apologize. Sure enough the next words out of his mouth are, "I'm sorry for saying all those mean things about you."

My lips turn up without my input. "Hazelle talked to you, didn't she?"

"Yeah." He looks down at his feet, clearly embarrassed.

"How does it feel to eat crow?"

"Like shit."

I pick up the one full laundry bag and hand it to him. "You know, it's your fault."

"I know."

"Good." I turn to close the door.

"Catnip?"

I pause.

"You think maybe we could, you know, go hunting in the woods sometime?" The words are hopeful, much like they were the first time he asked me out.

The girl I was would be honored that handsome Gale Hawthorne wanted to go out with me. That girl is gone. Moved on. Grew up. Thinking of Peeta, I shake my head. "I've already got a hunting partner, Gale. You've missed your chance."

He looks around Haymitch's house and shrugs his shoulders. "Yeah. I guess I have."

oOo

Soon after Gale leaves, Peeta shows up with his bread delivery and we chat for a bit. He helps me carry another rodent-laden mattress to the backyard to burn tomorrow before saying goodbye.

I wish he could stay longer, but I know he's expected back at the bakery. And I need to get home too.

Exhausted, I stumble home in the dark after my stop at the joiner. My feet feel like lead weights at the end of my legs. I can't wait to fall into my bed. As I round the corner toward the street my house is on, my heart skitters to a stop before pounding wildly in my chest.

There's a Peacekeeper waiting outside my door, their uniform gleaming white.

In the flickering light from the windows I can make out red hair, but the pounding doesn't stop.

Darius.

What is it, the day of my ex-boyfriends? All I need is Bran Hatfield to show up and I'll have the whole set.

I take a deep breath and try to cover my apprehension.

As soon as Darius spots me, he scurries over, his hand grabbing my elbow to steer me down a darkened alley. If I didn't know better, if this wasn't Darius, I'd be afraid he was going to attack me. As it is, I'm still worried. "What happened? What's wrong?" My thoughts immediately turn toward Prim.

"You."

The word shocks me. "What?"

"You've been skipping school."

"No I haven't."

"Katniss, don't lie to me. The Administrator reported it. You're just lucky it was me he reported it to." He runs one hand through his hair. "Why are you doing this?"

I can't lie to Darius again. He knows me too well. He'll see right through the 'I'm sick' excuse. "I got a job as Haymitch's housekeeper."

His eyes flash with something I can't identify before he says, "And you didn't get a permit?"

"I can't afford it!"

"Why didn't Haymitch get you one?"

Good question. Why didn't he? And then I realize I didn't stipulate it when I was negotiating with him. "It's not in the contract."

Darius shakes his head with a little laugh. "Oh you stubborn foolish wonderful woman. Why didn't you ask me for help?"

"You know why." I try to say the words gently, but there's not really any easy way to soften the blow.

And I can see that he does. He understands that I can't keep taking advantage of him when I won't be able to give him what he wants. That it's not fair to him or to me. I also can tell he's still holding out hope I'll change my mind, that I'll take him up on his offer.

I won't.

I can't.

So I have to extinguish that hope even though there's a part of me that hates the necessity.

Darius seems to understand my predicament; he switches back to the reason he came looking for me. "You can't keep skipping school, Katniss."

"If I don't, I'll lose my job." I can't stop the desperation that colors my tone.

"And if you do, you'll get in even worse trouble," he counters. "Do you want to be put in jail? Because that's what will happen. Another report to another Peacekeeper and you'd be cooling your heels in the basement of the Justice Building."

The blood drains from my face.

His hand squeezes my elbow. "Are you listening, Katniss?"

I nod and then realize he might not be able to see it in the dark and say, "Yes."

"Good." Another squeeze, this one less insistent. "I can help you with this. A little. I'm the officer on duty on Wednesdays and Fridays. If you skip on those days, I can cover for you. Anything else, it's on you."

It's just one more thing I'd owe him; I don't want to slip even further into his debt. "You don't have to do this, Darius. I'll find another way. I don't want to get you in trouble."

His smile is bitter. "That's just it, Katniss. I won't. For those two days of the week, I'm in charge." He doesn't sound happy about it. "I get to decide who gets a whipping and who doesn't. Who has to pay a fine and who doesn't. The only person who could overrule me now is Cray, and he won't." He barks a laugh. "So long as the district keeps running and the Capitol gets what it wants, he doesn't care."

That's something I didn't know but makes sense when I think about the Head Peacekeeper. He likes his life easy. He likes his comforts. He doesn't go out of his way to create work. He'll do his job to the bare minimum that he has to and not an

iota more.

"I don't want to take advantage of you," I protest.

"And I don't want to see you in prison. Not when I can do something to stop it." He runs his fingers through his hair once again. "I know about your mother, Katniss."

My stomach sinks. "What about my mother?"

"I know your mother's not responsive." He stares at me intently, his eyes glittering in the dim light. "I know your mother hasn't been responsive in months. That she's not getting better and probably never will."

"What makes you say that?"

"Little things. The fact that no one's seen your mother since your father's funeral. The fact that the door to your bedroom is always closed. The fact that your house smells of dirty diapers and sickness when I know for a fact that Aven is potty trained. The fact that your house smells like my house did before my grandmother died. I know your mother's not dead; you wouldn't be able to hide that. Which means that your mother's incapacitated." He takes a deep breath. "Tell me I'm wrong, Katniss. Even better, show me I'm wrong."

"I - I can't." I lower my head and wait for the news that, after everything I've done to try to stop it, Prim, me, and Aven are still going to the Community Home.

It doesn't come. Instead, I feel Darius's arms snake around me and he pulls me toward his broad chest. We stand there for a long moment and he rests his cheek against my hair. "I'm not going to turn you in, Katniss. I admire what you're trying to do. What you have managed to do. You're so strong. You're so capable. Let me help you. Let me help you save your family."

Unbidden, a few tears seep out to soak into his chest. "Okay."

I don't know how long we stand there. How long Darius holds me. But knowing, that after everything, that Darius - this Peacekeeper - still has my back moves me to my core. I wish I could give him what he wants.

But I can't.

I'm not sure I can give anyone that.

Not anymore.

oOo

AN:
Written: 9/15/18
Revised: 10/2/18

In this universe, Mrs. Mellark is all about status. She never hit Peeta - that was the bread incident, and that didn't happen. We don't have any proof that she was hitting him before that. Therefore, we're choosing to interpret that hit as a one-time incident as opposed to a lifetime. Katniss doesn't mention that Peeta comes to school with bruises after that, and she would notice. Especially after the bread incident. Mrs. Mellark's still not perfect, she's not nice, she's prejudiced, she's racist, and she's not a nice person. But she's not the Mrs. Mellark from canon or from Let Me Fly. Bad people can change, but that doesn't mean you forget what they did.

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