8.

"Into each generation a Slayer is born." Haymitch mocked. "One girl in all the world. Ain't I just lucky it had to be you."

That girl could have won scorn competitions.

She looked small standing there on his porch, with her arm in a sling and half a dozen burns of various seriousness all over her body, but less small than she had when he had met her. She was standing taller and a few weeks of eating well had softened her malnourished aspect. His grey eyes lingered on the wounds he could see, telling himself it could have been worse.

She could have been dead.

With her Slayer healing powers, she would be completely fine in a week at most. More likely, she wouldn't feel the need for the sling in a couple of days.

He would have to contend with the few stitches on his forehead a while longer on the other hand and that was without mentioning the bruises and scrapes all over his body. He was getting too old for this shit.

Much too old.

He stepped aside to let her in, trying not to think about those endless minutes in the hospital waiting room where he had thought he had lost her. He had paced the length of the room while Peeta and Prim sat on uncomfortable plastic chairs, clinging to each other's hands and staring up at him as if he held all the answers in the universe, regularly asking him if he thought she would be alright.

They had been lucky, considering.

"How's your sister?" he asked, turning away to lead her inside the house.

He hadn't been expecting the hug but he embraced her back by reflex. From the stiffness of her body, he supposed her impulse had surprised herself too. Then she relaxed and he propped his chin on top of her head and closed his eyes, willing his treacherous heart to stop beating so hard.

She was here.

She was fine.

They had made it. They had won.

She let him go as quickly as she had grabbed him and headed straight to the kitchen without looking back, her dark braid swaying between her shoulder blades. Her hair was a little singed too.

"She still has nightmares." she answered belatedly. "But she's going to be alright, I think. She thinks it's awesome I can do so much good and save people."

The hug he supposed was going to remain non-addressed, which was just as well. He didn't deal well with feelings and he couldn't really keep on pretending he didn't care about her now. He wasn't sure who he had been kidding. He had always been going to care. She was a kid and she was his responsibility now and, if that wasn't enough – and it hadn't always been – he saw too much of himself in her.

"Most people do." He shrugged, following her into the kitchen and going back to sit on the chair he had been occupying before she had knocked on the door. The table was a mess of sticky glasses, Watcher journals that really should have been handled with more care and half scribbled notes.

"Didn't take you long to get your collection back." she mocked, nodding at the brand new clutter of bottles on the kitchen counter.

"What can I say…" he snorted, wrapping his hand around the tepid glass he had poured himself earlier. "When I think about all the booze we wasted in those woods, it makes me sad." He hadn't been expecting her or he might have kept his consumption to a minimum though. She had been released from the hospital two days earlier and he had told her to take the rest of the week to rest. He had even told her not to bother with school unless she wanted to, that he would take care of it since her mother had never made an appearance at the hospital and he had been left to answer insurance questions he had no clue about. He took a sip of whiskey and let the familiar burn wash down his throat. "I've got a deal for you. Don't interfere with my drinking and I'll stay sober enough to help you."

She watched him with an unreadable expression on her face before averting her eyes and dragging back one of the kitchen chair. "You mean help me by rushing at a vampire who could have killed you with a snap of her fingers?"

"Yeah… Maybe I shouldn't have sampled the vodka the kid used for the Molotov cocktails." he lied. And badly.

She tugged one of the leather-bound journals toward her but didn't open it. She just played with a loosed piece of leather and, really, he should have stopped her. Those things were priceless.

"What you said in the woods about your other Slayers…" she hesitated, her voice trailing off.

"I'm with you." he offered. "I've got your back. Until the end."

"Yours or mine?" she scoffed and then waved her hand to dismiss that. Her tone was serious, everything about her was serious. "What I mean is… You said they were tributes in a hopeless war… I'm not going to be some martyr, Haymitch. I have one priority and one priority only: Prim. She's going to come before everything else and if it ever comes to a choice between her and other people…"

Again her sentence trailed off.

He studied her with a smirk, more amused than angry. He should have been angry probably. Told her off. After all, the Slayer handbook was pretty clear about the sacred duties and what not.

"You know, Slayers are usually isolated." he remarked thoughtfully. "No friends, no family… They live alone and die alone."

"Why?" she frowned.

"Because it makes them easier for the Council to control." He made a face. "Slayers are only weapons to them. Never forget that."

Confusion flashed on her face. "Don't you work for the Council?"

"I'm on their payroll and I'm useful so they keep me around but we don't always see eye to eye." he admitted. "Just… Be careful if you ever have to deal with them without me, that's all."

"You're my Watcher." she pointed out. "Why would I have to deal with them without you?"

He sighed and slouched a little in his seat, making his whiskey twirl gently at the bottom of the glass. "Cause I've got a feeling they're playing a long game and they assigned you to me for a reason."

Katniss was growing irritated and impatient, probably frustrated to have to force every word out of his mouth. "What reason?"

"I don't know." he honestly answered. "I called Coin to see if she knew who Cashmere was or who those others are… She claimed she'd put the resources of the Council on the search but I had a feeling she was hiding something."

He had hypothesis but none of them were good. None of them.

"What about the man they're supposed to be bringing back?" Katniss reminded him. "Do you know who he could be?"

A chill ran down his spine and he downed the rest of his glass of whiskey in one quick motion, not even trying to resist the urge to pour himself another one.

"Coriolanus Snow." The name echoed strangely in the kitchen, almost as if it was bouncing back from the past. How many times had he said or heard that name in this very kitchen? He had grown up with that name, had lived all his life with that name hanging over his head like a fucking Damocles sword… "He was a Master."

Understanding dawned on Katniss' face. "The one who was banished to a hell dimension. So that's why Ripper said Cashmere was talking about opening the Hellmouth."

"Sounds likely." he agreed and then rubbed is face with the back of his hand, careful not to tip the glass of whiskey that was dangling from his fingers. "We can't let anyone bring that vampire back, sweetheart. He was… He was a monster like you can't even imagine. A lot of good people died so we could defeat him."

The memories were seared in his mind and he couldn't stop replaying them on a loop. He had never been able to stop, not even with all the alcohol in the world. And now that he was back in this town...

He startled when she placed her hand on his forearm. She looked worried.

"But you did defeat him." she pointed out.

But at what cost?

He wasn't sure how long he had spaced out in his own head. He stood up and opened the window because the kitchen suddenly felt suffocating. Hell, who was he kidding? This whole house was suffocating. He should have just sold the thing out after Maysilee and be done but he had never been able to completely cut himself off the Seam. He wondered if it had been fate after all.

He had grown up in this house. He had watched his mother die in this house. He had watched his little brother turn to dust in this house. He had lost the only girl he had ever really loved in this house. He had trained his first Slayer in this house. He had planned Snow's demise in this house.

After Snow had been banished… After he had buried Maysilee… After he had packed everything he could carry and left for good…

He should have sold the house then but maybe a part of him had always known it wasn't over. Maybe that was why he had accepted the assignment to a new Slayer even though he and the Council had been on very rocky terms since Annie's death.

Then again, he had never refused taking a Slayer on before.

He had sworn he was done being a Watcher after Maysilee. Three dead Slayers, one of them his own, and he had sworn he was done. He had disappeared for two years – or at least, he liked to think he had disappeared but he knew the Council had probably been keeping tabs even then. Two years spent hunting down demons and then, out of the blue one day, a phone call. He had resisted. For three days, he had resisted.

And then he had packed up and he had gone to San Francisco to meet Alina Graves who was seventeen and out of her depths.

And when she had died, he had cursed and sworn again that he was out.

But when they had called him with Cecelia's address, a couple of years after that, he had still gone.

At that point, he had become the go-to Watcher for Slayers who hadn't been raised and trained under the Council's tutelage. Coin said he had a gift for rogues. The Council's president refused to accept he wanted out, he was too useful.

After Cecelia, there had been Johanna who had been so full of hatred and rage and who had left nothing behind her but a broken Watcher and a bike he was still keeping an almost religious care of.

And then, years after Johanna, Annie. And Annie, in many ways, had been the straw that had broken the camel back. Because Annie hadn't been able to handle the pressure and she had gone insane. Because the Council had sent Finnick and Haymitch was pretty certain, although they had never discussed it, that it had been to determine if the situation had been salvageable or not. Because they would have killed her eventually if she hadn't gotten herself killed first. Coin had no use for soldiers who couldn't do their job, not when it was so easy to replace her with another one.

He had told himself he was really out then. He had sent a resignation letter and everything – well, it had consisted of a stained piece of a paper with a "fuck you" on it but he was pretty sure Coin had gotten the gist.

It was after Annie that the drinking had really gotten out of hand. It had always been more or less of an issue, of course, but after Annie he had stopped caring enough to try and get a lid on the problem. He had enjoyed some time of demon hunting and binge drinking with Chaff abroad for a while right up until he had received a package with a brand new cell phone, a plane ticket and an address. He had called the only number programmed into the phone and Coin had told him she had a new Slayer for him if he wanted her.

He hadn't wanted her.

He had never wanted them.

Twenty years and five dead Slayers…

And he still hadn't learned to stay away. Because, regardless of what he wanted, they needed help and it was a help he could give.

There were different sort of callings in this life. He had learned that the hard way. He had been born in that world of demons and heroic women and he could never turn his back on it, never turn his back on a Slayer in need because his mother had been one and the love of his life had been one and he owned it to the five girls he had been sworn to protect and failed to save.

"Haymitch." Katniss said with the same touch of impatience as always.

He blinked and the backyard, outside the window, stopped being blurry.

He needed to stop freaking out and focus. This wasn't about him or the people Snow had taken from him.

"It was luck we managed to trap him at all." he finally explained, facing her again. "Maysilee was fighting him, distracting him while the warlock worked on the ritual… She died too soon. He ripped her throat out. He turned on us so I jumped in."

She lifted her eyebrows. "You fought a Master?"

She sounded incredulous and he couldn't blame her. He hadn't exactly been useful against Cashmere. But he had been different twenty years ago. He had been young and cocky and so sure he could handle himself against anything… And, of course, he had been consumed with his hatred for Snow. He had known he might get killed when he had stood in the vampire's path but he had also known he might distract him long enough for the ritual to work. He hadn't feared death, then. He would have welcomed it.

"We had a history, Snow and I." he snorted. And then he shook his head because he could see the questions already forming on her lips. "Story for another day, yeah? Suffice to say… We don't want him free."

She looked at him long and hard and then she accepted that with a nod.

She was still distractedly toying with the journal. "Do I get a bonus for killing a crazy old vampire?"

"Need money?" he asked, already trying to remember how much cash he had in his wallet. Not much, he thought, but they could make a trip to an ATM. Katniss only ever spent the money on food or on utilities. He had never seen a kid who had her priorities so straight – well, except himself.

"I lost my bow in the fire." There was a pout at the corner of her mouth that made her look like a very sulky child.

"I'll buy you a new one." he dismissed.

He had expected her to protest and scream about how she didn't need charity but she must have considered it part of his Watcher's duties to make sure she was armed because she perked up instead. "I'm also going to need a new quiver. And arrows."

"You don't want a pony with that?" he deadpanned.

"No." she replied with a small smile. "But a spare helmet for the bike would be great."

He rolled his eyes but aggressively fought his own smile. It wouldn't do to let her know he had grown fond of her.

°O°O°O°O°O°

"So, we don't know who the vampires who are coming are but we do know we really don't want them to free Snow." Peeta summed up. His folded arms were propped on the small counter that separated the kitchen from the living-room. He looked completely at ease in the trailer despite the lack of space and how terribly cheap everything in it was when Katniss knew for certain he lived in a big house not too far from his parents' bakery.

She kept her eyes averted and focused on transferring the cupcakes he had brought from the pastry box onto a plate.

She wasn't sure why he was even there at all. She never invited anyone home. The only person who had been coming and going to and from that trailer aside for the Everdeens was Gale and it was only because the Hawthornes lived in a similar trailer. As a rule, Katniss never let anyone in and it hadn't been her idea to invite Peeta.

He had showed up half an hour earlier with a big smile, a box full of cupcakes and a bunch of DVDs. She had remained there dumbfounded but Prim had squealed and had ushered him in. Apparently, while she had been at the hospital, they had made plans to have some sort of Harry Potter marathon – she had been informed very seriously that the fact that the Everdeen girls hadn't read or seen a Harry Potter was unforgivable. Prim had looked happy about it so she hadn't outwardly opposed the project. Besides, now he was there and he had brought food so it wasn't like she could really kick him out.

Because she had no clue what else to talk about with him – and because it was the first thing he had asked once Prim had started tinkering with their old TV so they could watch the movies – she had summed up what he had missed.

And now she made sure to keep staring at the plate full of pretty cupcakes he had baked himself and to not look up at him. She also made sure to keep her voice low so her sister wouldn't hear. "There's no we. It's not your problem."

Peeta's good mood seemed to deflate like a pierced balloon. Suddenly he looked a lot more ill-at-ease. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have showed up like that. It's just Prim said it would be cool and… Do you want me to go?"

"No." She frowned. "I just meant…" She glanced at her sister who was still busy and then chanced a look at him. "You don't have to get involved in the Slaying business. It's dangerous and it's not your responsibility so…"

"What if I want to get involved?" he cut her off.

She sighed, not sure how to answer that. Haymitch hadn't told her how to handle that particular situation. Peeta's knowledge of the real state of the world was something they had left up in the air. "Peeta…"

"Look, I don't think I can go back to how it was before." he interrupted again. "I can't just pretend I don't know all of that is happening, that you're out there fighting vampires and demons on your own. You shouldn't have to be on your own. So if I can help… Doing research or… I'm not helpless, you know. I can fight. And we're… friends, right?"

That seemed like a trick question somehow.

But Peeta had followed her into danger to get her sister back. He had stayed with Prim at the hospital while Haymitch took care of the paperwork. He had taken care of her sister when she couldn't and that… Well…

"Yeah." she confirmed slowly, maybe a little carefully. "Yeah, we're friends."

Peeta shrugged, a smile back on his lips. "It's settled then. Every superhero needs a sidekick."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not a superhero."

The way he watched her then… She couldn't have put a word on it if she had tried. There was an intensity in his eyes, a tenderness too and… Her heart started racing in her chest.

"You are to me." he argued in a whisper.

She wasn't sure at which point they had gotten so close to each other. Sure, she had been leaning toward him because she didn't want Prim to overhear even if she had been speaking low but… They were standing so close that she could see there were specks of green in his blue eyes.

Green was her favorite color.

She didn't know where the thought had come from but it jolted her out of the strange spell that had fallen on the room. She grabbed the plate full of cupcakes and headed to the living-room, hoping it didn't look like she was running.

It felt like she was running. She simply wasn't sure from what.

But whatever it was… It scared her more than all the vampires in the world.

And given that a bunch of them were trying to bring back a monster bad enough to scare Haymitch, it must have said something…

So that's the end of episode one! I hope you enjoyed it! Episode two will start in two weeks! Don't miss it!