And we're back with episode 4! Talent shows, magic and demons aplenty! I hope you enjoy!

Make A Wish

1.

Giving in to temptation once was the first step on the slippery path that led down to hell.

One of the Watchers who taught at the academy was fond of saying that. Haymitch wondered if the guy was still teaching and if, maybe, Trinket had heard the same words of wisdom in her time. If she felt their weight the same way he now did.

He took a sip of his tepid coffee and told himself he was being stupid. It wasn't because he was surrounded by teenagers that he needed to start behaving like one.

Seam High's auditorium was a square room with a stage, a backstage area and rows upon rows of plastic chairs that he strongly suspected dated back to when he had been in high school. The red curtains that lined the stage were weighted down by dust and the walls could probably have done with a new coat of paint too.

Needless to say that Effie Trinket, her short tight cream skirt and matching silk blouse with her purple mid-sleeve jacket and equally purple heels, her blond hair pinned up in a crown braid and her flashy jewelry that caught the neon lights with every move, stood out like a sore thumb. She was standing in the middle of the aisle formed by the chairs, a clipboard hugged tight to her chest and she was watching one of the kids work on his Shakespeare monologue.

Talent shows. A big fat waste of time.

He slowly made his way toward her, trying to make his coffee last. He had told her he would be there once he had had a cup and that had been almost a whole hour ago. He hated school projects. He hated being roped into school projects even more.

He didn't know if it was her idea or Plutarch's. She claimed it was the principal's but, at the same, time, she had been very interested in spending time with him as of late. It had been two weeks since they had slept together and he had been forced to fend off countless offers of carpooling and morning jogs.

Not that she was hinting she wanted more than just a car ride – or a bike ride – or a friend to run with in the morning. She was being very casual about the whole one-night-stand thing and he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Either she had gotten it out of her system and was now ready to be friends or she was trying to lure him into something more one car ride at a time.

He still wasn't sure he trusted her. He had managed to reach Finnick – finally – and the only two things the boy had consented to tell him were that Mags was recovering as well as expected and that he could personally vouch for Trinket. So Haymitch had invited her to come along on patrol a couple of times. He figured it killed two birds with one stone: she got to report to Coin on Katniss' progress but it allowed him to frame the context as much as possible and she was involved which was what she wanted.

Besides, watching her stumble around a muddy cemetery at night in the heels she refused to part with was hilarious.

"There you are!" she huffed when she spotted him. "Did you get lost on your way back from the staff room, I wonder? Should I draw you a map next time?"

"Hold your horses." he grumbled. "Ain't like you don't have everything in hands anyway."

She had plans, schedules, to-do lists and enough disapproving stares to toss around, she didn't need his help. There were so many kids running around the auditorium to do her bidding, he didn't see why she even wanted him there.

It's a two persons job, Plutarch had claimed.

She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him in that very disapproving way that made the students cringe and run away to fix whatever mistake they had done. That look did things to him that were probably not right.

Temptation. That was the thing. He wasn't sure why he couldn't seem to move on now that he had had her. She really wasn't his type. He didn't like blondes, he didn't like fussy and he didn't like complicated. She was all three and more. And that was without mentioning the ridiculous bows on the back of her heels or the huge tissue flower on the right breast of her jacket.

In another life, she must have been a clown.

On stage, the kid was still slaughtering Shakespeare and, eventually, she sighed. "Is there anyone in this auditorium with a moderate amount of talent?"

She kept her voice very low because most of the students who would be performing in the show were sitting on the first few rows of chairs in front of the stage, each clutching the color-coded schedules she had handed out when they had started this thing. It was only the first day of rehearsals and already he could see the disaster it would be in all its glory.

He snorted. "You really expected any?"

"Would you go backstage and check on how they are doing with the set?" she requested.

"There's any way I can say no without you turning me into a toad?" he mocked.

Her glare said it all and he wisely decided to pick his battles. Besides, if he played his cards right he could waste more time he should have spent actually supervising this thing. As far as he was concerned, she was better at handling the show aspect of things.

Stepping backstage was like stepping into a beehive. Most of the kids who were painting, hammering nails or who suddenly made their phones disappear in their pockets and pretended to be working at his sudden appearance were Trinket's Art students and it showed. They were efficient. Most of them.

"Everything's fine here?" he asked. He got a collective "yes"/"yes, sir"/ "yeah"that he decided was good enough for him. "Good. Keep it up." He spotted a couple making out in the far back and rolled his eyes. "Keep it PG over there. Hands where everyone can see them."

He guessed that wasn't how Trinket would have done it but it made everyone laugh and that was what he had been after. The girl blushed and darted away anyway so he supposed it had done the job.

He spotted Hawthorne hammering planks together in the corner so he gave that spot a wide berth and approached Peeta who was painting the banners that would be hanged around the school.

He hadn't learned to like Gale Hawthorne in the last couple of weeks. The boy invited himself on patrol and while Haymitch was ready to admit he was good with a bow, he didn't like the way he always tried to get between Katniss and danger. First because it would get him killed – as he had told him and Katniss several times – and then simply because it hinted that he didn't think the girl was competent enough to defend herself – which she was. The act was becoming old and he knew Katniss was getting as fed up with it as he was. She had stopped inviting the boy to come along but he showed up anyway.

It was part of the reason he had asked Trinket to come on patrol more often. The fireballs she summoned came in handy and so did the flaming arrows trick. Besides, it gave him someone to talk to when Hawthorne monopolized Katniss. He didn't like feeling like a third wheel and the boy clearly wasn't willing to learn anything from him – not even History if his grades were to be believed – he never asked questions and never listened to Haymitch's advices.

It took Peeta a while to realize the shadow that had fallen across the banner was his. The boy looked up and offered a hello but not much else.

"You've been a stranger." Haymitch accused, lowering himself to the floor on the other side of the banner so he could face the kid. Not that Peeta looked ready to look at him. He was hunched over and focused on his work.

"I've been busy with school and work." the boy answered, his fingers clenching around his paintbrush.

Had Trinket wanted something that elaborated for the banners or was it Peeta's initiative? Usually spray paint and a simple "Talent show" followed by the dates did very well but Peeta was doing something a lot more complex than that with stylized letters and a very detailed background…

"So busy you don't even go to wrestling practice anymore?" Haymitch challenged.

Peeta frowned and this time when he glanced up, anger and disbelief were fighting on his face. "You're spying on me?"

"No." he countered calmly. "I'm worried so I'm keeping tabs. Noticed your car has been repaired…"

He had been seeing it in the parking lot for a few days.

"Dad had it fixed." Peeta mumbled. "And there's nothing to be worried about. I'm fine. I'm just…"

His sentence trailed off.

"Busy." Haymitch finished for him. "You're working at the bakery?"

"Yeah." Peeta shrugged. "I'm helping around."

"Is that how you got hurt?" he asked, already more or less suspecting the answer.

Peeta startled. His blue eyes darted up and back to what he was doing, betraying his alarm. "I'm not hurt."

Haymitch took a second, told himself not to rush this. He had been waiting for days for the boy to come to him or, at least, to come over with Katniss so he could have a quiet word. Try to, at least. He had been working on and off as a teacher over the years, he had seen the looks before, he knew what to watch for. In the two months he had known the boy, there had been a few alarm bells but the way Peeta had held himself the afternoon they had destroyed the amulet… The way he had flinched away from the hand Haymitch had placed on his shoulder when he had never seemed skittish about it before… The overwhelming panic the kid had displayed on the night he had crashed his car…

It hadn't been typical I wrecked the car and my parents will ground me forever panic. It had been deeper, far more primitive and rooted in terror.

"You've got burns on your arm." he said quietly.

Peeta's reaction was to yank down his sleeve to cover the half-healed burned marks. "It was an accident."

"Sure." Haymitch commented dubiously. "Ain't the first time though, yeah?"

"I work in a bakery. Sometimes you get burned. It happens." Peeta snapped. "Leave me alone. What do you want anyway?"

The kid looked ready to bolt and Haymitch chose to keep his peace for now. There was no point pushing too much or too far. It wouldn't be productive.

"You never come around on patrol anymore." he pointed out. "And we're still trying to find information on the Careers. Katniss's helpless at research but you've got a knack for it. We've missed you."

"She's got Gale now." Peeta snorted. "Why would she need me? He's actually useful in a fight, unlike me."

Haymitch didn't think he really meant that. There was something else going on. Something that had to do with the burns on his arms.

He had been toying with the idea of paying his father a visit but he didn't want to risk making it worse for the kid. He had no proof, just ugly suspicions.

"Ain't like you to go down without a fight." he sighed.

"I can't force her to love me." Peeta replied and then, probably realizing just what he had let slip out – not that it was a huge surprise – he looked back down at the banner, his cheeks flushing red. "Look, I really need to finish this, so…"

"Right. Should probably go back out there before Trinket sends a search party anyway…" he snorted.

"She's not that bad." the boy half-chided, a little defensive. "I like her." He paused for a beat and then shrugged again. "She says I'm her best student, that I could really do something with my paintings."

He wasn't sure what her qualifications were when it came down to Arts. He didn't really have a degree in History, that was the Council's cover story. For the boy's sakes, he hoped she was sincere and not simply being kind because he had the feeling Peeta didn't need to be crushed more than he already was.

"She's alright." he admitted, a little reluctantly. He was still wary of her but he was willing to give her a chance. Finnick vouched for her, that was good enough for him. He could give her the benefit of the doubt. "Look, kid… If you ever need somewhere to go or if you want to talk about something… You know where to find me, yeah?"

He didn't stand up until Peeta nodded. He didn't really like the thought of leaving it at that but for now there was only so much he could do. By the time he went back into the main part of the auditorium, Trinket was waving that clipboard as if she really wanted to toss it at someone's head.

"Do try to give it a little life, dear." she berated the Shakespeare kid. "This is theater. It should have some… flair!"

"Miss Trinket, it should be my turn now." Glimmer huffed from her front row seat, flicking her golden locks over her shoulder. "I need to rehearse."

"My apologies, I do hate being off-schedule too but some need more practice than others." she retorted. It was too much for the Shakespeare kid who ran off crying. Trinket cringed. "Well, now… This is show business… No need to get upset, it should be fun, fun, fun!"

Glimmer saw her chance and climbed on the empty stage, ordering one of the fanfare kids to sit at the piano in the corner. Haymitch took advantage of the diva teenager making her usual show to approach Trinket, he reached out to get her attention, his hand cradling her elbow without really noticing it.

"I need a favor." he said without much ado.

"Given that you have been leaving me alone to deal with everything, it should be good." she retorted.

He gave her arm a little shake so she would stop watching the blond cheerleader who had started a not quite terrible rendition of a pop song to look at him.

"Try to get through to Peeta." he demanded.

"Ah." she said, understanding dawning in her eyes. "Then, I am not the only one suspecting a problem."

His expression darkened. "No. You ain't."

"I will see what I can do." The anger and worry that flashed on her face mirrored his and he started drawing soothing circles on her arm with his thumb without really noticing it. Or the fact that he hadn't yet let go of her. Her features slowly lost their angry edge and her lips stretched in a small grin. "I thought it was out of your system, Haymitch. Are you relapsing?"

He should have snatched his hand away and tossed a gibe her way. He used the grip he had on his arm to tug her a step closer. "Maybe. What about you?"

Her eyes were twinkling in obvious delight. Or maybe it was just amusement. "I try not to let that kind of… illness bother me in a professional setting such as this."

"What kind of illness?" Katniss asked.

Haymitch startled and, this time, bolted away from Trinket, turning to face his Slayer. Her hunting skills came in handy a lot in her duties but sometimes he really wanted to tie a bell around her neck.

"Migraines." Trinket answered smoothly. "Is there… an emergency?"

Katniss had been vocal about what she thought of the talent show and the fact that she would not be participating.

The girl let out a pained groan and made a face. "Heavensbee found us talking in the hallway and now we have to do this stupid thing. He said it would help us get more involved in the school's life or whatever."

Haymitch couldn't help an unsympathetic snort. "Welcome to my life."

"Yeah, well…" Katniss scowled, mostly at Trinket. Smart girl probably knew he wasn't the one doing most of the job there. "Put us backstage to help with the set or something."

"I do not really need any more people working on the set…" Trinket frowned. "But I could use an assistant given how unhelpful some people are." When she glared at him, Haymitch simply winked. It seemed to infuriate her even more, which was very good in his book. He so loved pushing her buttons. "You said we, who is with you?"

"Oh, Madge." Katniss shrugged, waving over a blond girl who had stopped next to the door to talk to another student.

Haymitch wasn't really paying attention.

At least, not until the kid was close enough to touch.

All the blood left his face and the only sound he could hear was the beating of his heart. He was barely aware of Trinket greeting the blond girl or loudly exclaiming two assistants would be better than one. His knees buckled and he reached behind him for one of the chairs before his legs could give in. Still, he collapsed on it so abruptly that a couple of other chairs were pushed away, one toppled over…

There were a lot of gasps and worried questions. The music stopped, the singing stopped, every eyes in the auditorium turned to him…

He could only stare at the ghost.

It had to be a ghost.

Because Maysilee Donner was dead. He had seen it. He had hold her hand until she had passed. He had hugged her body to his chest and vowed that he would never train any Slayer again. He had been there when her family had buried her. He still stopped for a moment every time they walked by her grave on patrol.

"Haymitch? Haymitch?" Trinket called, sounding frantic. Her fingers were working on the buttons of his shirt. She undid three and, when it didn't have any effect, she pressed her palm flat on his throat, under his Adam's apple. "Breathe."

It wasn't simply an order. He felt the magic ripple on him, forcing air into his lungs. He gulped and then did it again, feeling foolish for not having thought of breathing before.

The ghost didn't fade or disappear. It wasn't shimmering like most ghosts did. It wasn't… She looked real.

Trinket's hand on his cheek turned his head away, forcing him to stop staring. He found himself looking at a crouching Art teacher instead. "Does your chest hurt? Are you having a heart attack?"

He could still feel her magic rippling over him and he wondered what she was trying to do. Figure out what was wrong with him? Save him? He didn't like magic working on him much usually but hers felt warm and left odd tingles in its wake, not in a bad way either. The way it wrapped around him was protective and he didn't even try to fight it off. Another puzzle.

"I'm calling 911." someone shouted in the background.

"No." he found himself protesting, gently but firmly pushing Trinket's hand away from his cheek. "No. I'm good. I'm good."

He pushed himself back up to his feet, shrugging Katniss off when she tried to steady him by grabbing his arm. He chanced a look to the right and there she still was, the living ghost, looking at him with sad understanding eyes.

"Maysilee?" He had to ask. He had to. He knew it was crazy and impossible but they were standing on a Hellmouth. A Hellmouth on top of which she had died. Who knew what impossible meant in these conditions...

And there was the bird pin Katniss wore sometimes. The bird pin that had made his reappearance not long after Katniss had been called when the last Slayer who had worn it…

"I'm Madge." the ghost denied, shaking her head, her eyes a little teary. "Maysilee was my aunt."

He heard Katniss suck in a breath next to him, he heard Trinket suddenly shooing everyone back to work with instant understanding of what must have happened, he even heard Glimmer petulantly ask what she had thought of her singing…

"Do you know about… the thing?" Katniss accused, her voice dripping with betrayal.

The girl… Madge looked between her and Haymitch with a mix of dread and hope. "I didn't know it's true. I suspected?"

"So you were just trying to… What?" his Slayer scoffed. "You were pretending to be friends with me?"

"Of course not!" Madge protested.

"Girls." Trinket cut in firmly. "Here is not the place." She glanced at him. "Haymitch, do you…"

"I need fresh air." he muttered in a blank voice.

"Of course." she accepted readily. "Katniss, perhaps you could…"

"I need fresh air alone." he cut her off. "Stay away."

It was a warning as much to the other Watcher as to the girl and the stranger wearing a ghost's face.

He stormed out of the auditorium, not intending to come back.

°O°O°O°O°

Peeta watched Haymitch leave the backstage area to go back to the auditorium with what he hoped to be a blank face. He made sure his arms were covered properly before going back to work on the banner. He hated the thought that Haymitch suspected… Would he tell Katniss?

He had known he was in trouble the moment he had gotten a proper look at the car – deeper trouble than a vampire cult and a possible apocalypse. The memory of his father's sorry face when he had handed him the key of his newly repaired car a few days ago made him feel sick. More and more lately, the rage was building up inside and he hated feeling that way. He didn't want to hate his family.

"What did he want?"

Gale Hawthorne had left the corner where he was helping building a box for one of their classmates' magician performance and was now crouching next to him with his elbows propped on his knees, completely at ease.

Another person who made it difficult for him not to give in to hatred.

Hatred leads to suffering. He smiled a little to himself, wondering if Katniss and Haymitch would have caught that quotation. He had been having a lot of fun throwing random pop culture references just to see them look at each other in ignorance and then roll their eyes in perfect unison. But that had been before, of course. Before Gale had followed Katniss to the cemetery and Peeta had felt like an awkward third wheel to his flying arrows and their dramatic hugging in the middle of a church in ruins.

Not that he could have risked blowing off a shift at the bakery to follow her out at night anyway. Not right now.

"Nothing." he answered, keeping his eyes on the banner. He could hear Glimmer singing on stage and while it wasn't bad, it wasn't exceptional either. "Why?"

What did Gale Hawthorne care about what Haymitch had to say to him? He had already backed out on his own volition, for his own good. He would give it a little more time and then, when things had calmed down at home, he would go back to Haymitch's. He could help with research at least. He didn't have to go on patrol if Katniss didn't want to take him with them but he could still be involved somehow. He wanted to help for more reasons than his feelings for her. It was the right thing to do, if anything.

"He doesn't like me." Gale shrugged. It was an explanation and an accusation all rolled into one.

Maybe if you hadn't spent weeks accusing him of taking advantage of Katniss, he mused. He bit the words back though. There was no sense starting a fight over something that had clearly already been addressed between them. It wasn't his battle to fight anyway.

"Haymitch believes in tough love." he replied, focusing back on his work.

He had thought that would be the whole extent of the conversation but apparently not.

"Say, Mellark…" Gale hesitated and then cleared his throat. "Peeta." Peeta did look up in surprise at the unprecedented use of his first name. "Katniss told me you've been researching the Slayer thing?"

His first reaction was to glance around to make sure nobody had heard. Gale had taken care to lower his voice though.

He frowned. "Haymitch lent me a couple of books, I wanted to understand the whole thing better. I can give you a list if you want but I'm sure if you ask him…"

"No. I just…" Gale cut him off. He was nervously drumming on his leg and wouldn't meet his eyes. "I've been thinking and… In those books, did you find out how to put an end to it? How to call another Slayer?"

A ball of lead dropped in Peeta's stomach.

Katniss had explained to her best friend how the Slayer line worked that night in the woods already. Several times.

He could understand it had been a lot to take in, though. It had been for him.

"If another Slayer is called, it means Katniss is dead." he answered carefully.

Gale swept that away with a nervous gesture of his hand. "Come on, there must be another way. A trick or a loophole or something… This whole thing is madness, you can see that, yeah? She's going to get herself killed, she says herself that her lifespan is going to be short. There must be a way to get her off the hook."

"If she ever finds out we're talking behind her back we're the ones who are going to get killed." he scoffed.

"I'm just trying to help her." Gale insisted. "What about magic?" The other boy sounded a little reluctant. "You looked interested the other day. There must be a spell that can take this Slayer thing out of her."

"Miss Trinket is the magic expert." he countered. "I've barely read a book on minor spells. And even if we could take her Slayer powers out, where would we put them? I don't think something like this can be banished, it would have to be given to someone else. Assuming they're strong enough to bear it."

At least, that was how he understood the principle of magic but he might have been wrong. And it didn't guarantee Katniss would even survive the ordeal. Listening to Haymitch, fate was a treacherous bitch and didn't like to be tricked.

"We could pass it on Abernathy." Gale suggested without a single moment of hesitation. "After all, he's all about demon fighting, right? Let him be the hero."

Peeta was becoming wary of the direction the conversation was going. It was sounding less and less theoretical and more and more like Gale was seriously considering it.

"Haymitch is a man and the Slayer is always a girl." he objected reluctantly.

"Trinket, then." Gale shrugged as if it didn't make a difference. As if one didn't matter more than the other. As if they didn't matter at all.

"I'm not sure she would want it." he pointed out slowly, studying the guy's face.

"Who says we have to ask?" the other boy retorted. "Did they ask before saddling Katniss with this?"

Neither Haymitch nor Effie had chosen any more than Katniss had and Peeta was horrified by the very idea of what Gale was suggesting. "That's not right."

"Cause it's right for Katniss to have to go out there every night and fight monsters?" Gale spat.

"Did you talk about it with her first or are you just sneaking behind her back?" he accused. Katniss had never hinted to him that she wanted to get rid of her powers. She hadn't been happy about being the Slayer, particularly at first but he thought she had come into her own after the first few weeks of transition. She enjoyed training with Haymitch and she viewed it like a job she was particularly good at.

The commotion in the auditorium prevented him from answering. Someone screeched, the music stopped… Peeta bolted toward the curtains that parted the backstage area from the stage without thinking twice about it, half expecting a hoard of vampires even though the sun was still up. What he found instead was a clutter of students urgently whispering together and staring at Haymitch who had collapsed on a chair, white as a sheet. Miss Trinket was crouching next to him, talking to him…

Peeta jumped off the stage but by the time he got close enough, Haymitch seemed to have recovered and was waving away offers of help. He obeyed the Art teacher's request to go back to what they had been doing because he wouldn't have liked being gawked out if he had almost fainted either. He climbed back on the stage since it was the quickest path to his abandoned banner, he hadn't expected to be cornered by a grinning girl.

"Did you hear me sing?" Glimmer asked.

She was wearing her cheerleader uniform and she was toying with a strand of her hair, her head tilted to the side, with a look on her face he recognized from countless flirting sessions at different parties.

"Yeah. It was cool." he said politely if a touch coolly. He thought Glimmer was going out with Marvel but they were always on and off lately. It was the drama their lives revolved around. Given how Marvel had been treating him recently though…

The smile she flashed him was bright and she placed a hand on his arm. "I hoped you would like it… Peeta, this whole fight is so stupid… If you want to come sit back at our table at lunch…"

"Peeta!" Katniss called and, like a moth to a flame, he turned away from his former friend without a word to walk toward the friend he wasn't sure he still had. It didn't help that she was wearing her hair in one of those fancy braids that fell over her shoulder – Prim had probably done her hair because that kind of braid was her specialty. She looked lovely. Even with the worried glances she kept throwing at the door Haymitch had disappeared through. "Trinket wants to know how the banners are coming along."

"I'll have them ready by tomorrow." he promised.

"Okay." she said. She didn't walk back to the teacher though. She remained there and watched him, apparently torn between being angry and hesitant. "How are you?"

"I'm good." He cleared his throat and looked down at her scrapped boots. "You?"

"Good." she said a little harshly, as if to say it was no thanks to him.

The next stall in the conversation was very awkward so, all in all, it was almost a good thing when Glimmer stomped her foot. "Do you mind? I am trying to rehearse and you are hogging the stage. Shouldn't you go shoot a deer or something?"

She was glaring daggers at Katniss who glared right back. It was almost funny how different they looked… Glimmer was the typical bee queen and Katniss was wearing oversized pants and a simple loose green shirt that had never ever been fashionable to any teenager on this planet. And yet Katniss was prettier. To him, she was prettier than any girl at school. Perhaps even in the whole world.

It had always been like that.

"What's your problem?" she spat at Glimmer.

Glimmer sneered at her as if she was an old gum under her sole. "You should stop aiming too high. The fall is going to kill you."

It was perhaps lucky for Glimmer that Miss Trinket called her back at that moment because he was pretty sure Glimmer almost got herself punched.

He seized that chance to escape and go back to his uncomplicated painting.

Gale wasn't anywhere near his banners anymore.

The relief was overwhelming.

I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! Let me know your thoughts!