Thanks so much to Sparky She-Demon, Ro-Lee, Randommmfanatic, iiMuffinsaur, and my lovely guest reviewer!
Greed
Haymitch is not a good housemate. He lets the laundry pile up, eats her food without replacing it—it's not like she can't afford it, but it's the principle of the thing—and, worst of all, leaves his glass bottles lying around everywhere. Whenever she requests that he not do any of the above, he grumbles a half-hearted assent and then proceeds to continue to act as before. But even at her most irritated and chagrined, Maysilee can't bring herself to kick him out. The only place he can go is a dusty house haunted by his family's ghosts.
Fixing people takes time, she reminds herself as she clears a table of beer bottles. And if she kicks him out, it'll be her who's ruining Snow's star-crossed lovers story, and she'll be the one learning a lesson next. No, what she wants is for the Haymitch before the games to be back, and she'll do whatever it takes to make that happen.
She tells herself that every time she has to deal with a vomiting Haymitch, and she thinks Larkspur must have been a saint to have done this for all those months. Larkspur had a choice. She could've left Haymitch any time. But Maysilee is willing to sell her soul to the devil—a devil named Snow—if it means she and her family and friends are safe. And part of that contract is sticking with Haymitch.
It's just that it would be so much easier to fulfill it if she had the old Haymitch.
Maysilee places some books she knows he's read in front of him. "Do you remember these?"
He glances at them dismissively before resuming the titillating activity of staring at the ceiling as he lies on the sofa. "Children's stories."
"They're for adults."
"I mean they're full of happy endings and good conquering evil and people getting what they deserve. I can't stomach that bullshit anymore."
Another time, she drags him out to the fence, wheedling for him to show her the woods. He does so grudgingly. They don't stay out long. After months of doing nothing but sitting around and drowning his sorrows in a bottle, he lacks the energy to hike for long. They haven't even been out for half an hour when he sinks down beside a tree and refuses to move, until Maysilee agrees to turn back.
One night, she forces her to go with her to a Seam party. As a town girl, she's never been to one before, although Rose has gone once or twice with Jon and excitedly recounted the experiences to her. Haymitch was always present in Rose's stories, one moment dancing with Larkspur, one moment stealing a musician's instrument and playing it poorly, one moment telling some tall tale that gets everyone in the vicinity roaring with laughter.
On this evening, Haymitch sits in a corner by himself and sulks. Rose and Jon give her pitying, sympathetic looks.
Time passes all too quickly, and soon they have to return to the Capitol for the next Games. The two tributes are from the Seam, as is common, and thankfully neither of them is a twelve-year-old. But that doesn't make the pain any less as Maysilee watches them scarf down food on the train and comes to terms with the fact that they'll both be dead on the first day.
Alasdar didn't have to mentor this year, but he came with them anyway. Maysilee hasn't seen much of the recluse beyond occasionally passing by him in the Victors' Village or town. "If only we had more tributes like you," he laments. "I know you have strength just looking at you."
Not had. Have. Maysilee resolves herself to be strong for them both, if Haymitch cannot, once the predatory eyes of the Capitol fall upon them in full force.
Thankfully, unlike the Victory Tour, Haymitch is more aware of the need to act. He puts on quite the show for the public and the cameras, playing the gallant—albeit tipsy—lover. Alasdar watches disapprovingly but makes no comment.
Caesar Flickerman is eager to have the star-crossed lovers on his show, and he fawns over how lovely a couple they make. "You two are the same as ever."
Inexplicably, those words make something shift behind Haymitch's gray eyes.
"Caesar's wrong." They're sitting alone in the rooftop garden of this year's Tribute Center. He shreds up grass from the lawn. "We're not the same. I know it. You know it. But you've been trying to get me to be the same as before all this."
Maysilee bites her lip. "I just wanted the old you back."
"We can't always get what we want, sweetheart. That me is dead. Gone. He's not coming back."
She inhales sharply. "I refuse to believe that. You're still you, Haymitch. You're too—too—too much for the Capitol to destroy you. I'm going to keep fighting for you, Haymitch. I won't give up."
"Well, that's rather selfish of you, isn't it? Maybe I don't want the old me to come back. He was made for another life that didn't involve the Games. Ever thought of that, sweetheart?"
Maysilee looked away, chagrined. She'd thought her efforts were helping him somehow, even if she never got a word of thanks. But it was all for nothing—
No. Not for nothing. When she put those books in front of him, she saw a short-lived spark of interest in his eyes. When she dragged him to the woods, she saw a fleeting expression of peace on his face. When she took him to the Seam party, she saw the faintest ghost of a smile on his lips for all of a second.
The old Haymitch isn't dead. He might not be burning anymore, but there's still an ember burning underneath. She just needs to fan that flame back to life, and if wanting to do that makes her selfish, then so be it.
As predicted, District 12's tributes die at the Cornucopia. There's no mentoring left, but they also can't go home early. Haymitch spends his days drinking and brooding, while Alasdar is off doing who knows what. Maysilee tends to finds herself socializing with other mentors, usually of other tributes who died early on.
One day, she finds herself speaking to Snow again.
"The public is delighted that their star-crossed lovers are still so in love. Living together is a little scandalous, but not unwelcome news." Snow strokes the petals of one of his roses. "Perhaps that charming house of yours will soon become a bit fuller."