A/N: Sorry this one took a bit longer! Christmas/New Year shenanigans took priority!
...
"Nervous?" Haymitch asked, as they sat waiting for the gamemakers to call them in.
Katniss shook her head. "Not really, I'm just not sure what to do in there."
He snorted. "Well, whatever you do, please don't shoot something at them this time." He needed the gamemakers at least a little complacent, so he could focus on his escape plan. He also wanted the other tributes – at least the ones who wouldn't ally with him – to dismiss Katniss. The last thing he needed was them singling her out like last time.
She chuckled, surprising him. "It would ruin the surprise if I did it twice in a row. Anyway, they have a forcefield up now – Beetee and Wiress pointed it out to me."
He raised his eyebrows. He'd completely missed that during training, though honestly he'd been trying not to draw much attention to himself by seeming overly interested in the gamemakers.
"Know what you're going to do?" she asked.
Haymitch shrugged. "The usual, smack a dummy around with a spear, lift some weights."
"I don't recommend anything with the knives," she noted, a slight smile on her face.
He scowled at her. "Oh hilarious, little missy. Lucky for you I didn't decide to drink myself stupid, stagger in there and vomit on the floor. Not too late to change my mind though..."
"Don't you dare," Katniss warned.
A little while later, they called his name, and Haymitch left Katniss, who was looking a little more troubled now. He headed into the training room, looking up at the observation room where the gamemakers were waiting.
They were all watching – some curiously, others thoughtfully. A couple even looked suspicious, and Haymitch's stomach flipped over, until he realised that they were both older than him. Though he couldn't be sure, he thought they might have been gamemakers from his own Games. No doubt they remembered the trouble his tricks with the force field had caused last time.
Haymitch gave them a sarcastic little wave, deciding that it could be his one little act of defiance. He couldn't afford to be more dramatic, as much as he'd love to shout in their faces, or remind them of what both he and his kid had done to make them look stupid.
He really did hate them though. They sat up there in judgement. How many of them laughed themselves stupid at the sight of his drunken behaviour on TV, not knowing or caring that it was their Games that had led to decades of substance abuse for him? And not just him, but dozens of victors. All of them found a way to drown their demons, or they were consumed by them.
Plutarch Heavensbee was stood up at the front, eyeing Haymitch with a strange smile. He couldn't quite work it out, and decided it was best to put the gamemakers out of his mind and just do what he'd said he'd do – a few moves with the spear, a bit of weight-lifting, some basic survival tricks that Katniss had taught him.
Once it was done, he sat in District 12's quarters with Peeta and Effie, nervous and sweaty as he waited for Katniss to return. He was dreaded the thought that she'd done something rebellious. Surely she wouldn't be so stupid though? She knew how she was being watched already, knew she couldn't afford to attract the gamemakers ire even more, or they'd just kill her off 'by accident' the moment she entered the arena. It wouldn't take much.
A short while later, Katniss arrived, looking strangely satisfied. Just the look on her face was enough to make Haymitch's heart plummet into his stomach.
"What did you do?" he asked tensely.
"I hung Seneca Crane. Rigged up a dummy with his name on it." She didn't even have the good grace to look ashamed.
Haymitch groaned, burying his face in his hands.
"Oh Katniss," Effie gasped. "How could you? They're bound to punish you for that!" She covered her hands with her mouth, as though she couldn't say more.
"How did they react?" Peeta asked, looking a strange combination of admiring and worried.
"About how you'd expect," Katniss replied with a shrug. "Shocked, angry, upset. Really though, they've already forced me to go back to the arena, what more can they do to me?"
"Why don't you have a think, sweetheart?" Haymitch snapped, jumping to his feet. "You have a family, don't you? And all those 'cousins' Snow knows you care about."
She blanched. "They wouldn't. They couldn't, they're just gamemakers. And if Snow wanted to punish my family, he already would have done."
"'If Snow wanted to punish my family, he already would have'," Haymitch mimicked nastily. "Listen to yourself, you really think you know how he thinks? You have no idea what the Capitol is capable of, girl."
Effie raised her hands in placation. "Haymitch–"
He waved a hand at her. "Forget it. I should count myself lucky. At least when they kill her straight off, I won't have to worry about keeping her stupid hide alive."
With that, he stormed from the room, ignoring Peeta's call to come back, and Effie's soothing 'he doesn't really mean that'. Haymitch wasn't sure whether he did or not, but right now, he was feeling like his job had become a thousand times harder. He hadn't realised before that the most difficult part of keeping Katniss alive for the rebellion might be the actions of Katniss herself.
...
The city lights comforted Haymitch when it was night. He could stare out of the huge window in the dimly lit lounge, and watch the neon lights twinkling away. When it was lit up like this, he could almost forget what it stood for.
His fifth bottle of liquor lay empty at his feet. The Capitol stuff wasn't as strong as back home, it seemed to be diluted with other flavours. But it got the job done. He would regret this in the morning. He'd regret it when he was back in the arena, shaking and nauseous. If the gamemakers killed Katniss straight off though, he wouldn't have to worry about anything. He had no illusions about winning the Game himself, though he'd obviously try if she died.
Someone lightly kicked one of the bottles at his feet, and Haymitch stirred.
"I thought you'd given that up," Katniss said pointedly.
"Why bother. If we're gonna die, I wanna die drunk."
"I'm not sorry for doing it," she said, seating herself on a comfy chair next to him.
He wanted to snap back at her, but couldn't bring himself to. "I know. If the gamemakers want revenge though..."
"Then I'll try and make sure it doesn't come back to you," she told him. "We could split up, and you'd still have a good chance. You have friends in the arena, and you wouldn't have to worry so much about the gamemakers."
Haymitch laughed bitterly. "Sweetheart, you honestly think I'd leave you to go it on your own? We're in this together. I know what you're thinking: 'Haymitch is a useless drunk, he won't be any help at all. I wish Peeta was with me.'"
"That's not true," she protested, but it rang hollow. He gave her a flat look. Katniss sighed. "You know why I want Peeta with me. But that doesn't mean I think you're useless. I just... I don't see how we can both get out of this alive, and I don't want us to be the only two left."
"We can't both survive it," he said. "But you can."
Katniss gave him a sharp look. "I won't let you do that."
He grinned, pleased to have angered her. "You can't stop me, sweetheart. If I want to die to keep you alive, then I will."
"Then I'll make sure you survive," she replied. "Whatever it takes."
Haymitch started laughing now. "Oh really. You going to let lover boy in on the plan? 'Cause I don't think he'll go for it."
Katniss frowned at him, and moved to sit next to him on the sofa. "I'm serious Haymitch. I won't let you die if you can help it."
Her sincerity cut through his alcohol haze, and he felt slightly guilty for laughing at her. He dropped an arm around her shoulder, squeezing it in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "I know, sweetheart."
She leaned into his arm. "Then promise me you won't sacrifice yourself for me."
"I promise," he said, lying through his teeth.
Katniss seemed satisfied, and they sat there together, until the sound of a door opening reached them. He craned his neck to see who'd arrived, and grinned as he spotted Peeta.
"Well, while everyone's coming to the party, you might as well pull up a seat, boy." Haymtich patted the sofa cushion next to him.
Peeta sat himself down, and Haymitch slung an arm around his shoulders too. It seemed right to have both his kids here with him for potentially one of the few nights he had left. No matter what happened, it was unlikely all three of them would be together like this again.
The boy looked like he wanted to say something, but they couldn't be candid in front of Katniss. Just the thought of them working to keep her alive was enough to bring out her sense of martyrdom. Letting her know they wanted her to escape the arena – at the risk of their own lives – so that she could join the rebels would probably be enough to make her leap out of the window right now, just to stop them.
"Me and Effie have been working on your sponsors," Peeta said instead. "A lot of people were really sympathetic to me. They don't like the idea of me watching you die in the arena."
"They're probably disappointed they don't get to see you kill each other," Haymitch supplied unhelpfully.
"I think it was genuine," he replied. "In any case, they were willing to help me out even before you've set foot in the games, that's a good sign."
"I've still got competition from Finnick and the other Careers," Katniss pointed out. "People will be lining up to sponsor them. Did you find some sponsors for Haymitch?"
The two men met each others' eye for a moment. Haymitch knew the boy hadn't even tried to find him sponsors, but he didn't expect him too. They'd both agreed to focus on Katniss. That didn't make it easier to see the guilt in Peeta's eyes, the knowledge that ate away at every mentor – that you had to make the pragmatic choice between which of your tributes had the best chance at surviving. Even under ordinary circumstances, Haymitch wouldn't blame Peeta for picking Katniss, never mind with their side plans.
"Not yet," Peeta answered, and Katniss looked troubled.
Haymitch nudged her. "Don't worry sweetheart, I've got friends in there, remember."
"If we have to fight them... kill them, I can do it for you, so you don't have to."
"I appreciate that, kid." He sighed. "It's not them I'm worried about though."
"The mutts..." Peeta murmured. The three of them were joined in silent agreement. Mutts were one of the main things to haunt Haymitch's nightmares, and he knew they affected Katniss and Peeta too. The gamemakers only used two types of mutt in their game, but it was disturbing enough. Haymitch had never been stung by a tracker jacker, but Katniss' – and to a lesser extent, Peeta's – reactions had been enough to disturb him. And the sight of that girl dying in their Game, that would stay with him. As would the death of the boy from the wolf-mutts. Eaten alive. It reminded him forcibly of his own Games, where every beautiful or innocent creature had a murderous intent. Sharp teeth in the night. Maysilee skewered by a songbird.
His kids had told him that the wolf mutts had the eyes of the other tributes. Fur that resembled their hair, bodies to reflect their stature. All of that hidden behind a savage desire to kill. He felt sick at the thought of it, holding his kids tight. Whatever happened, he wouldn't let the Capitol take them.
...
Tomorrow they had their last chance to give a good impression and pull in sponsors. Haymitch had refused to let his prep team anywhere near him again, so Portia had just told him some simple touches she would do to make him look less – well, less like a drunk going to seed.
While Cinna and Katniss' own prep team ran through what they were going to do tomorrow, Haymtich and Peeta got together to work out how they were going to approach the interview with Flickerman tomorrow. He just hoped Katniss wouldn't punch them on air.
It wouldn't work as well with Haymitch delivering the bombshell, not like it would with Peeta, so he would have to work in some other element to help rouse the audience's sympathies. And there was nothing like a little truth mixed in with the lie. It would also help the audience accept the lengths he was going to in order to keep Katniss alive, and keep her 'star-crossed lovers' thing with Peeta untarnished. The lasted thing needed was for a 'dirty old man' angle to work its way in there.
By the time night fell, Haymitch was feeling a little more optimistic again. Well, not optimistic, but he knew there was no turning back now.
He was definitely regretting leaping into the bottle the previous night. His relapse meant that he'd been feeling shivery again this evening, and he was determined to avoid the drink completely. But he also needed to avoid Katniss and Peeta. It wouldn't give them confidence to see him raving again.
Haymitch headed down the corridor to his room, determined to bunker down for the night and wait it out. Maybe he'd watch the TV. Or maybe he'd just stab himself in the eyes for several hours.
Before he reached his own room though, a door opened, and Effie's face appeared. She looked less preened and primped than usual, with that foolish wig askew and a half-empty glass of wine in her hand. He wondered how many she'd had already.
"You shouldn't drink," he said. "I hear it's bad for you."
That was enough to make her break down in tears, and Haymitch found himself awkwardly patting her on the back while she sobbed.
"They can't do this," she whispered. "It's completely against the rules! You're supposed to be safe! The victors are supposed to be safe from this!"
Haymitch firmly grasped her shoulders, forcing her to face him. "It doesn't matter whether they can or not, it's happened. There's nothing we can do to stop that now. We need you strong. You need to bring in sponsors for Katniss. Peeta's good, but he doesn't have experience with this. You do."
"I know. I know," she said softly, composing herself. "I was so proud of them. Katniss and Peeta. They were such shining stars, the best victors the Capitol has seen in decades. Even better than you."
Haymitch snorted at that.
"No, really." She was looking him straight in the eye now, sincere and sad. "I wasn't upset to be given District 12 at first, because I'd watched your Games, I knew how clever and resourceful you were."
He laughed. "And then you got to District 12 and realised there were no victors there, just a drunk."
"Not just a drunk. You might not appreciate it, but I really value the time when you mentored Katniss and Peeta... convincing people to sponsor them, prepping for the interviews, sending them help, talking to their families, worrying about their safety. It make me realise... the four of us, we're a team. And no one can break that up."
She stopped suddenly, looking around as though she was afraid peacekeepers would pounce on her. Haymitch just stared. He'd known that Effie wasn't happy to see Katniss back in the arena, and thought that maybe she didn't want him in there either, but he hadn't quite realised the depth of her feelings towards the District 12 victors. It went beyond the shallow fawning of the other Capitol citizens. Effie might look like one of them, but there was a real person under that costume.
"I got you this," she said, taking a golden bracelet from her pocket. "I had something similar made for Peeta, so the three of us could match Katniss' Mockingjay pin. A little show of solidarity for the viewers."
Effie took his wrist, delicately fastening the bracelet. She probably had no idea what the Mockingjay pin really represented, what it might look like, the four of them matching like that. The bracelet was almost like a shackle, reminding him of the path he'd chosen, to support the rebellion. He was locked in and couldn't change course. But he couldn't feel annoyed at Effie for the gesture, so he received it silently.
She looked at him, waiting for a reaction. Haymitch couldn't think of something appropriate that would convey how he appreciated the gesture, but since when was he appropriate? He grabbed her and planted a kiss on her mouth.
Effie gaped at him after he released her, a look of shock and indignation on her face. He just smiled. "For old times' sake. I think that was the first thing I ever did when I met you."
"And every year since," she said, smiling sadly. "I'm going to miss you, Haymitch."