Title: From the Ashes

Rating: MA

Genre: Angst/Drama/Romance

Characters: Katniss/Haymitch; Katniss/Peeta

Summary: What could possibly be more dangerous for Katniss Everdeen than The Hunger Games?

Author's Note: Haymitch's P.O.V. As always, please forgive any errors.

"Brilliant, don't you think?" Plutarch says as the screen goes blank. "I could not have asked for anything more perfect that what you and Katniss have been giving me."

"How long have you been planning this?" I ask him, quietly seething.

"A while." He admits with a smug smile. "The chemistry between you two was phenomenal. I knew it was only a matter of time before the sparks started to fly. Even if you hadn't given me the love triangle to go with—which is pure gold, Haymitch. Pure. Gold.—I had enough love/hate footage of the two of you from District 13 to make the audience anticipate who she would save."

"So, I was right…this is the last arena."

"It's what the audience wants, Haymitch."

"And the wedding? Your carriage and all the frilly details?"

"Won't it be visually striking to have Katniss killing one of her lovers in that beautiful white gown?"

"You're disgusting, Plutarch."

"Ah," He ticks his finger at me and smiles. "I'm inspired."

As he stands to leave, I offer a small suggestion. "Word of advice, Plutarch. When it comes time for Katniss to make her choice…be careful where you stand."

Plutarch pats me on the shoulder with a small laugh. "Just so you know, Haymitch. I hope she picks you. Oh…you'll understand I've got to send in a couple of guards to rough you up, won't you? It'll be more dramatic when Katniss sees you've been mistreated. I promise, if you live, we'll repair any damage."

I meet his eyes with a deadly stare. "You better hope she picks Peeta, because if I live, I can guarantee you that Katniss and I will not stop hunting you until we die."

There is fear written on his face for a fleeting second before he covers it with his usual smile. "That's the passion I want to see in the arena, Haymitch. Hold onto that."

"Don't worry," I vow, "I will."

As Plutarch leaves, 3 guards file into the room they've decided to use as my holding cell. I size them up, wondering if I can get any pop shots off before the three of them start in on me.

"Three on one," I call, hoping Plutarch is still within earshot. "That's hardly fair…for them."

The slap of a nightstick in a gloved palm draws my attention to the middle guard and I brace myself for the pain. The nightstick swings at my face, connecting with the bridge of my nose and I hear the crack of the bone breaking as the blood starts to pour from both nostrils. The pain is blinding for a second, dazing me, and I flash back to my own Hunger Games, to the struggle with the careers when I was slammed in the face with a thick branch.

The next strike comes to my ribs, knocking the air out of me, then another on the back of my head. I realize the three of them are surrounding me, and –half on instinct, half simply unable to keep myself on my feet—I drop to my knees. I'm dizzy with pain, bleeding, and certain more than my nose has been broken, but the guards go on for several minutes, making sure that there will be no mistaking how much I've paid for being in love with Katniss.

The irony that Mica died for loving me and that I may very well die for Katniss makes me laugh before my assailants finally give up and let me fall in a heap to the floor. It hurts to breathe too deeply, so I take shallow breaths as blood begins to pool under me. I know they won't let me die—they want that honor to be Katniss'—so I don't bother worrying about my injuries. Instead I worry about Katniss and Peeta.

I can't even begin to imagine what Peeta must be feeling right now. To know that he's been betrayed by both of us—lied to, misled, cheated on… If Katniss doesn't kill me, Peeta definitely will. Not that I don't deserve it. I feel responsible for this mess. I let my guard down with Katniss, I let her get too close. I made the mistake of caring for her during her first Hunger Games. If I'd have treated her the way I treated all the other Tributes, none of this would be happening now. But that damn girl has a way of sticking with people, and I wasn't immune to that effect.

I hope that Katniss finds a way to fight this, to get to Plutarch before the arena, to start a new rebellion against what she's being forced to do, but I know she won't. She'll try to find a way to save both of us. That's just Katniss.

"I'll always choose you, Haymitch. Always."

Yeah, sweetheart? I guess we'll see in a few days, won't we?

When I'm kicked into awareness by the hard toe of a boot, I involuntarily groan in pain. I realize I must have passed out where I'd fallen, and I'm covered in dried blood and aching from my head down to my ribs. I wonder if they'd be gentlemanly enough to let me have a stiff drink, but I can't seem to open my mouth to ask.

"Plutarch wants you washed up and presentable in 10 minutes."

Good luck with that. I think as they haul me to my feet. My breath catches in my throat, making me wheeze and I'm sure they've cracked my ribs. They carry me into the shower—clothes and all—and turn on the cold water. When I gasp, the pain in my ribs intensifies, and I cry out. They let the water run over me until it runs clear down the drain, then haul me out—soaking wet—and drag me into the common area where another camera has been set up. The air has been turned down in the room, so by the time I'm pushed into a chair in front of the camera, I'm shivering from the cold.

"Perfection." Plutarch says as he comes into view. He lifts my chin, making me grunt as my sore muscles protest. "So, here's what we're doing today, Haymitch…we're going to film tonight's special. A video message from you to Katniss telling her who you think she should save. You and Peeta will both have 5 minutes to plead your case, and say your last goodbyes. Remember, from the heart, Haymitch."

I'm shaking now with cold, a piece of hair hangs over my eye, and I can see water dripping slowly off the end. "I don't need 5 minutes, Plutarch." I growl at him.

"Save it for the camera, Haymitch. Are we ready to roll?"

A cameraman gives him a thumbs up and then the red light on the camera comes on.

"Katniss…" Saying her name has that same sticking effect on me and I feel myself choke a little on the word. I close my eyes and take a shallow breath. If this is the last thing I get to say to her…so be it. "I told you once that love was a liability—I guess you see I was right about that too…I really hate being right sometimes; not always, just in cases like this. As much as I love you, Katniss, I don't want to be your liability. If you love me as much as you say you do, then...choose Peeta. You have to choose Peeta. I know you still love him—you told me so yourself, so don't try to deny it now, sweetheart. You're not that good of a liar, anyways. I've lived a lifetime of regrets, Katniss. A lifetime of heartache. But you don't have to. You and Peeta have a chance to be happy. Trust me, sweetheart…I'm not worth saving."

"Cut." Plutarch says as I fall silent. I can't tell whether or not he's happy about what I said, but he doesn't ask me to retake it, so I suppose he'll find a way to spin it into something the audience will drool over.

I'm led back to my room and given a pair of dry clothes to change into, a bowl of soup, then allowed to sleep for the rest of the day, though all I really want is a goddamn drink.

When the video messages are scheduled to air, a guard makes sure that I'm awake, though Plutarch doesn't sit with me through the airing of this one. I guess he's still sour over my plea that Katniss save Peeta instead.

My message is first. I look like a drowned and tortured rat, and I know this will crush Katniss. She'll blame herself for my abuse, and add my name to her list of people to avenge…the list of people she tries to forget when she's in my arms. I feel oddly at peace with my plea. I try to think of what life might be like if luck was ever on my side—what it might be like if Katniss and I could be together, but I've been so alone and so unhappy for so long that I can't imagine our future. I can't imagine being a father. Peeta will do right by her, of that I'm sure…and that's enough. It has to be.

When Peeta appears on the screen, there's not a scratch on him, but I quickly begin to understand Plutarch's disappointment in my message.

"Five minutes isn't a lot of time to say everything you want to say." He tells the camera stoically. "Everyone knows I would have never survived the Games without you, Katniss…and maybe that's the way it should have been. Everything we've been through since then…has it been worth it? If you had just let me die, you could have gone home, lived your life with Gale…or Haymitch…or whoever. Your sister would still be alive. My parents…everyone from our district."

Peeta pauses for a long moment, obviously trapped in his broken mind. "None of this is your fault, Katniss. I'm the one who started the love story. I'm sorry that I forced you to pretend you love me, Katniss…but I'm not sorry for loving you. The time we had—even when I knew it wasn't real—was incredible. Those are the memories I want to keep… It's time for this to end. It's time for you to go home and live your life. Without me. Thank you for letting me love you, Katniss."

Peeta fades out, and Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith come on to commentate on our videos and try to understand our strategies and the dynamics behind the footage. I find myself watching even though I don't care.

"We polled our viewers after last night's… exhilarating show to find out who you, the viewers, felt that Katniss would be more inclined to choose." Mine and Peeta's names appear on a screen behind them and I blink in surprise. 49% lights up under Peeta's name. 51% under mine. Caesar looks impressed by the numbers. "51% for Haymitch Abernathy. Claudius, does that surprise you as much as it surprises me?"

"Oh, yes." Says the smaller man. "I don't think any of us were expecting quite the turn of events with Katniss and Haymitch, but I have to say, Caesar…seeing those two together was stirring. Such passion between them. Something I never really got with Katniss and Peeta."

"I have to disagree with, Claudius." Caesar tells him. "When I interviewed Katniss and Peeta after their victory, you could feel the love between them. The way they responded to one another…it was magical."

"Well, Caesar, it looks like only 49% of our viewers still feel that magic between Katniss and Peeta. I think that spark has died, and a new flame has lit up in her life."

"How do you think Katniss is reacting to these messages tonight? Hearing both of her lovers telling her to save the other. I don't know if that was planned or not, but I know I was just shocked."

"One can only imagine the amount of pressure she must be feeling." Claudius answers. "This is a big decision."

"That it is, Claudius. That it is. Live in the Capitol. This is Caesar Flickerman."

"And Claudius Templesmith."

"Wishing you all a good night."

At first I'm just annoyed with the Capitol's continued ignorance and the fact that this is still a game to all of them. But then I can't believe that 51% of the people watching feel that Katniss will choose me. Now I start to feel conflicted. I want to pace, to move, to do something, but it hurts too much to move.

Would Katniss save me over Peeta? Maybe, I suppose. But her only goal during the rebellion was getting Peeta back. Everything she has done has revolved around saving Peeta, keeping Peeta safe, ensuring his survival. Why should she stop protecting him now?

Because she wants you, moron. I answer myself. I have to think about this long and hard now that the game has changed, now that Peeta and I have both just called for her to save the other. What is my strategy now? To try and convince her Peeta's right? That I am worth saving? I don't believe that for a second.

I can't help but wonder if this will be the final curtain call for all of us. If, once Katniss makes her choice, the people will finally let her go to live the rest of her life without constantly having to choose who lives and who dies. I know this will break Katniss the same way it broke me when Mica died. No matter who she chooses, she will never forget who she had to sacrifice. Will Peeta be able to keep her from falling into despair? He hasn't suffered loss the way Katniss and I have…he don't know how to recognize the signs of someone who's given up on everything. Hell, he can't even recognize what's real and not real. How can he save Katniss the way she needs to be saved?

He can't…but I can. And I've just told her not to choose me.

TBC... who would you vote for?