CHAPTER 4

AFTER THE CELEBRATIONS

The nightmares become more persistent even after those tiring weeks of being hounded by Capitol reporters. As it turned out, my 2-am trips to the kitchen are quickly becoming routine, and as a result, I always bake more than what is necessary. It has come to the point that even Effie noticed, after asking her on the day of her departure to the Capitol if it's possible for me to order some baking ingredients in time for the next train delivery.

"Don't tell me you've used all your baking ingredients, Peeta?" She asked me as soon as I said my request, her eyebrows rising dangerously high.

I smiled sheepishly in return, knowing that there's no way to excuse my wasteful behavior. "Well, I've been baking quite a lot lately because I can't sleep properly. Don't worry Effie, I give some to Haymitch and the Everdeens."

"Oh poor child." She answered in reply. "To answer your question... yes, it's possible to get those ingredients. The next train from the Capitol will be coming in a few days - three, if I'm not mistaken - so you'll be good. But that's not what I'm worried about, Peeta. You said you can't sleep?"

"Yeah. I think it's a habit I got from the Games. You know, after having to be alert all the time." I said, hoping to downplay the situation.

"Why don't you try doing something else? A hobby, perhaps. And anyway, as a Victor, you need to have a talent to show the crowd for when the district tour comes. You're good in painting, aren't you? Why don't you try that?"

I blink at her, astonished. I am aware that Victors are always required to show a talent, but I never thought of that until now. The idea of painting has always been an elusive concept to me, mostly because my family did not have spare resources for what my mother called "a piece of crap". That's probably the reason why I didn't even think of that until now, and I definitely won't even think of it if not for Effie.

"You don't think it would be wasteful for me to paint?" I asked her doubtfully.

"Wasteful?" Effie shrieked. "Painting is never wasteful, my dear! Especially with a talent like yours! You could even sell your paintings to the Capitol crowd. I've been hearing some of their discussions during the Game - they were awed by your talent! I'm sure people would be lining up to get own even one of your works!"

A million possibilities rush through my head in an instant. Would I be able to do it? What does my mother have to say about it now?

But eagerness overruled everything else, so I eagerly told Effie that I would also like to get some materials for painting.

"Good! I'll make sure all supplies are delivered in the next train. Don't worry about the cost, the Capitol will handle whatever is needed for your talent presentation at the Victory Tour." Effie shrieked loudly, adding a conspicuous wink at the end. She then turns to Katniss, who had been standing quietly throughout the conversation. "And you, my dear, would have to prepare for your talent as well. Do you have anything in mind?"

Katniss looked at Effie with a visible grimace on her face.

"Um. would hunting be counted?"

I try to hide the smile on my face as she said those words. I know, of course, that Katniss can sing very well, but from what I know of her, I'm almost certain that she will not agree to sing for the Capitol crowd. Especially not after what happened at the Games, and because it's one private thing that she has with her father.

"Of course, not!" Effie responded, visibly horrified at Katniss' response. "How about singing? Everybody knows you're good at it."

"No, I don't want to sing." Katniss answered stiffly.

I laughed to ease the building tension and rested my hand on Katniss' shoulders. "I'm sure Katniss will surprise you with her talent when the time for the Victory Tour comes, Effie. Let's not pressure her right now, yeah?"

"Oh, Katniss is a woman full of surprises. Well, in that case. Ta ta!" Effie said, and kissed us both before finally boarding the train to leave.

As soon as Effie has left the station, Katniss heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thanks for that, Peeta."

"No problem." I answered calmly. "Let's head back home, shall we?"

We walked hand in hand back towards the Village, both of us feeling the release of a huge weight on our shoulders. It's temporary relief, but it's still a good breather, nonetheless.

The day at the train station was also the last time that we spoke and was seen in public together.

The baking ingredients and the materials for painting came in the next train three days after Effie's departure., just as she had promised. Since then, I had become preoccupied with my artworks, seeking refuge in the silent strokes of the brush on the canvas to relieve myself of the nightmares. Within two weeks, I have completed three works - one of our cave, one of the Cornucopia, and one of Katniss, the day I woke up from my high fever and found her lying in our cave in a huge pool of blood.

Painting has been an effective way to limit my baking, but I still make some for Haymitch and the Everdeens. I do this because as the only neighbors, I know we have to help each other out in any way possible. Haymitch is painstakingly low on food supplies, and the Everdeens would be able to save more money (and avoid my mother's jeers at the bakery) by having a regular supply of bread from me. In part, it's like having an extended family, which admittedly also relieves me of some of my sadness at having to live away from my family. Also, I happen to enjoy the way Prim's face would light up every time I show up at their doorstep, and her excited response at the details I incorporate into the cookies I make. Sometimes, she would even make suggestions on what I should put next, and I would gladly oblige as this gives me something to focus on. Needless to say, Katniss and I resumed our cold relationship since Effie and the Capitol media left.

I sit in the room I have converted for my painting, the one overlooking the entire Victor's Village. It's only four in the morning, but I've grown used to this irregular sleep cycle. Perhaps this is something that will never change anymore. The memories of our co-tributes in the 74th Hunger Games will always be alive in mine and Katniss' head.

As I ponder on the what to paint next, a flicker of movement on the road catches my attention. I move closer to the window to see what it is, and instantly realize that it's Katniss. Based on the hour of the day, her attire, the careful way with which she moves - like as if she needs to move more quietly - and the way she kept on looking back over her shoulder, I know that she's on her way to the woods. Probably to meet with Gale, as everyone in the district knows that they're the only two persons who can ever manage to go to that area without being frightened.

A pang of long-sustained feelings gives an ache in my chest again. I knew since we got back here that this time would come. In fact, I am quite surprised that Katniss waited this long to go back out there again. But now that the time has come, I still find it very difficult to ignore the sadness. Perhaps it's the still-alive hope in me that someday, Katniss and I will be okay again. That we can have have whatever closeness we had at the arena, even sans the intimacy.

But aside from the pain, there is also a renewed sense in me. Maybe Katniss and I had come to this cold relationship because of my bitterness when I learned the truth. Maybe... maybe things would have been better between the two of us if I did not distance myself from her, if I tried to understand her reasons for faking our relationship instead of being self-centered about the pain I felt.

I shake my head to clear the thoughts away. I shouldn't allow myself to focus on Gale and Katniss being together again as it would only worsen our already cold relationship. I distract myself by finally deciding to paint Clove instead, back to that time in the arena when I was still with the careers and I watched her sharpening her knives. I recall thinking how good she could be at it, and that clip in the video after our victory where she threw one at Katniss. I focus on doing this for the entire day, pausing only to bake and distribute the bread and to shower. I still find myself continuously looking at the window for any signs that she is back already, and growing even more anxious as the hours passed by. It even came to the point that I thought of going out there alone, worried that something might have happened to her, but I restrained myself with the thought that Gale is with her and he would be a much better protector than I am. After all, he is more acquainted in the woods and has lots of experience hunting. No harm would come to her with Gale, and she probably wouldn't like it anyway if I go into their sanctuary.

She finally comes back just as the sun was setting, and it was then that I am finally able to breathe normally. Get a grip, Peeta. Let her live her own life.

I decide to skip working on the painting of Clove for the rest of the day, instead heading outside to have dinner with my family. I catch them just as they were closing the bakery. My father was the first to notice me, and the huge smile on his face reminds me just how much I've missed being with them.

"Hey Peet!" Graham calls out.

"Oy, Peet!" Kale echoes. "Good to see you're still alive!"

"Hello big bros." I answer happily, letting them play-punch me and tousle my hair. It's like being a kid all over again, and reminds me of the time when my outlook in life is not yet marred by the gruesomeness of the Games. I elbow them playfully to get to my father and mother, who are both watching the little commotion that we have made.

"Hi mom, dad." I say, hugging each of them fiercely. I never realized until now that it's possible to miss my mother as much as I missed my father.

"Good to see you again, son. How are you?" My father says, keeping an arm clasped on my shoulders.

"A bit busy for the past months. It took a while for the Capitol reporters to finally leave us alone. I'm sorry it took me this long to come, there were some things that I had to deal with first."

My father looks carefully at me then, assessing me. I chuckle to ease his concern, saying: "Don't worry, it's nothing big. Effie just gave us a lot of tasks for the Victory Tour, so I wasn't able to come by until now."

The truth is, I avoided visiting my family because of the nightmares. I had been such a mess during those first few months, and it wasn't until I've started painting that I was finally able to relieve some of the weight off my shoulders. I didn't want them to see me like that because I know they will never have a clear picture of what it's like to survive that arena. Nor would I want them to really know what it's like to be a Victor.

"I see. Well, I'm really happy that you're here, Peeta. Your brothers have taken to pestering me since you aren't around."

Graham and Kale laughs in unison. "Peeta's the one to blame, dad! You know we're as nice as him."

"Oh, shut it you two." Mother interjects. "What time will you go back to the Victor's Village, Peeta?"

"Come on, Mom!" Kale says. "Peet just got here!"

'"I actually brought dinner." I tell her, revealing the paper bags full of my own version of the famous Capitol lamb steak. "I made it at home before I went here."

"Yum!" Graham squeals. "So this is what it's like to have a Victor for a brother." He adds with a wink.

"Come on boys, head inside now, will you?" Dad calls out. "You'll have more time for pep talk later."

"Psh Dad, we're grown up men. We don't do 'pep talk', we talk about girls and booze and sex!" Gale says, smirking.

"Speaking of which... have you, you know, with Katniss?" Kale asks.

I stiffen slightly at Kale's question, regretting the direction that our conversation has taken. I've been hoping to skip the subject entirely, but of course, being in the position that we're in now, it's almost quite impossible.

"Shut up, Kale." I respond flatly.

"Hey! I'm just curious, okay! Since you're all alone in that big house..."

"We're not doing anything like that, okay? Let's skip the sex talk please."

My two brothers laugh in unison again. It's nothing new really, to have the two of them ganging up on me. The cheerful conversation continues even as we reach the dining table and started eating.

"How's it like to live in the Village, Peeta?" Mother asks casually.

I chew my food carefully as I think of how best to answer her. What is it like? So far, the highlight of my stay there are the constant nightmares, my obsession in thinking of my relationship with Katniss, my morning routine of giving bread to my neighbors, and the persistence of the Capitol reporters to get inside the Village and catch a photograph of Katniss and I. But that's not what they should hear, right?

"Well... it takes a little getting used to. But it's really nice to live there. It's peaceful and practically everything needed in a house is there. Plus the environment is so clean, it's almost like we're not in District 12 anymore. Well, it would be nicer if you guys were there with me."

"We've talked about this, son." My father says with a look of genuine concern. "It's more convenient for us to stay here. I'm sure your neighbors are enough to keep you company."

"Actually, there's rarely a time we ever get together. Haymitch never goes out of his house and Mrs. Everdeen continued her past work of healing the residents."

"So what do you do in that house, Peet?" Graham asks.

"Well... before Effie left, she told us to prepare a talent for the Victory Tour." I answer carefully. How will my mother react when I tell her that I'm painting again? "She suggested that I paint."

"You paint? That's awesome!" Kale says loudly. "Can I see some of your works?"

"That's pretty cool, bro." Graham adds.

"Why don't you bake instead?" Mother says harshly. "I'm sure that's a more useful talent."

Silence ensues at the table, and I wonder how best to explain myself. At least I've expected this kind of reaction from her.

"The talent will be shown at the Capitol, Mom. Baking is not so useful there... and it's not like I can bake for the entire audience. Effie suggested that because that's what she thinks the audience will like best."

"But you could use the money for other useful things."

"The Capitol provided all the materials, mom. Who am I to complain if they already provide for my painting?" I respond, neglecting to state the fact that I've almost used the painting resources the Capitol provided, and that I ordered a new batch already using my own money.

"Ah, that's nice of them." Father says, probably hoping that my mother will stop the interrogation already. "What have you been painting?"

"Oh, mostly things from the Games. It helps me be... more at peace with what happened in there."

"And the girl?" My mother continues. "What would her talent be?"

"Katniss," I say, emphasizing her name, "is still undecided what to show as her talent."

"Well that's easy." Kale interrupts. "She's good in singing, isn't she?"

"Yes." I answer. "But I doubt she'd want to do that for the Capitol. It's a private thing for her."

"You're still together?" Mother interjects again, an accusatory tone evident on her voice.

"We're okay." I respond vaguely. They don't need to know more than that, and I'm hoping that she will just drop the subject. Which, in my mother's case, is almost like asking for a miracle.

Of course it is.

"I saw her earlier. Seems like she went to the woods with her cousin." She added.

By now, the atmosphere in the table has changed from playful to tense. Even my brothers know not to joke around when my mother has started using that tone, and my father... well, my father has always been a listener, and I guess that's the reason why their relationship (no matter how offhand it may seem) has worked well through the years.

"Yes, I don't see anything wrong with that." I reply.

"The Capitol reporters may be fooled, but we all know that they're not at all related."

"Really, mom. Katniss and Gale are close, and it doesn't matter whether they're family or not. I don't see any reason why they should stop doing what they've always done before the Games."

"Well... it just seems to me that you don't even talk to each other. Do you know that people are already talking about not seeing you two together? And people going to the bakery, asking me whether I've met her or not." She says with a grimace, as though disgusted just by the mere thought of talking to Katniss. "I don't see why that would interest me. "

"Again, Katniss and I are okay, mom. Let's leave it at that, okay?"

"I think she just used you."

I keep my eyes focused on the piece of meat that I'm eating, not wanting to see my mom's accusatory stare, or the rest of my family's pitiful looks. She knows. Of course she knows.

"Cecil..." My father says, quick to come to my rescue.

"And that relationship in the Games was all an act." Mother continues, ignoring my father's warning stare. "Probably not for you, but definitely for her. I wonder how the Capitol will take it when they learn that their beloved lovers was all a hoax."

"Drop it, Cecil."

"So when did you learn that the girl doesn't really care for you? That she just needed to get you out there alive to spare her conscience and to get more support from the audience?"

"Enough!" My father says, slamming his palm on the table. Mother looks taken aback by this - my father rarely shows any sign of anger - especially one that's directed to her. "Peeta has been through a lot, Cecil. Can't you hold it and keep your opinions to yourself? He's your son!"

"I'm just stating facts, Arthur. Of course I care about Peeta, don't you see that my rant was directed at the girl?"

"Well you're doing it wrong. And you know insulting Katniss won't help, either way."

"Stop it, Mom, Dad." I say loudly. "It's not Katniss's fault, Mom. I know about the plan from the very start."

She looks at me skeptically then, and says "You knew about it, and you just let it happen?"

"Yes. We talked about it with Haymitch. The plan worked, Mom, so it's no use to slap it in my face now. Whatever's with Katniss and Gale is none of our business. And no one else can now about this. We're walking on thin ice, okay? You know how dangerous it is to aggravate the Capitol."

The whole table remain silent, so I take it as an opportunity to leave. I'm not sure how much more of this I can take, especially now that I'm still at a vulnerable state. Maybe it will take some getting used to. Or maybe the pain will just always be there, demanding to be felt.

"I've got to go back now, it's getting late. I'll go back as soon as I can, okay?"

I stand from my seat and awkwardly hug my parents, and settling on patting my brothers' backs. They respond with a cheerful "See you, Peet!", making me realize even more that despite all the taunts, I miss living with my brothers, too.

I hear my father's voice calling out to me just a few seconds after I left the front door.

"Hey, son!"

I turn around then, half expecting him to lecture me on what I just told them. But it's my father, and I know that he will never use harsh words on me, so no matter how heavy I'm already feeling, I stay and wait for him.

"I just want you to know that I'm really glad you came by. Come back soon, okay? I'll make sure your mother won't say a word about the subject again."

"Dad... thank you. I mean, I hate it that you fought with mom over that, and I'm sorry because it's my fault. I really hope you come by my house in the Village. It gets lonely there sometimes."

He smiles warmly at me then, and moves forward to envelop me in a tight hug. "I would love to see your paintings, so yes, I will visit you. I was planning to, actually, but I didn't know if it's okay or not. You know, the Capitol and their rules..."

"Of course it's alright to visit, Dad." I say, laughing. "I'd really love that. Go there anytime you can, huh?"

"Okay. Well... go ahead, then. I'll see you soon."

"Thanks, Dad." I answer, finally turning to walk back to the Village. It's a small thing, but his simple promise to go to the Village is enough to keep me going and looking forward for the days to come.

I receive a call from Effie a few days later, merrily asking me how my paintings are going and whether or not I'm enjoying my new hobby. I try to keep up with her level of enthusiasm by telling her about my paintings (which is quite a difficult task - to make it sound cheerful - when the fact is, I'm painting gruesome pictures of my nightmares, of the Games). Of course, I'm enjoying to paint, but the current subject of my paintings are not something to be very happy about. She responds cheerfully, nonetheless, then goes on to remind me that the Victory Tour is "very very near, just a few months away!" and that preparations for it should be in full swing by now.

A few days after that, I receive a mailed letter with a very distinct Capitol look to it. The envelope is rather heavy for the "instructions" that Effie warned me about, thus leading me to think that this could be more of a step-by-step description of everything that has to be done and learned ("there are still a loooot that you have to know!" as Effie said) before we go to the official tour. Sure enough, the envelope contains numerous materials with information on each district, including the standard protocols to observe for every place and a comprehensive itinerary for our two-week trip. District 11, for instance, requires all visitors to be searched by the district Peacekeepers, whereas Districts 1 and 2 are more lenient about it. District 4, whose main industry is fishing, requires visitors to be part of their traditional welcoming ritual of a bonfire at the ocean. The details included in the files are so thorough, it's very obvious that Effie spent a lot of time making sure that we don't embarrass ourselves in these places by doing something out of the ordinary. And to show her that I'm thankful for her meticulousness (or probably for lack of other things to do), I promised myself to devote at least an hour each day to go through the materials.

Soon after that confrontation with my mother, Prim, being the intuitive girl that she is, took notice of the cold relationship between her sister and I.

"You and Katniss are not okay." She boldly states that morning, just as I was leaving their doorstep and she had given up on forcing Katniss to go downstairs.

I am, of course, taken aback by this. How do I explain a complicated thing to an innocent girl like Prim?

"What makes you say that?" I ask her.

"Katniss has always been 'sick' every morning since the reporters and Effie left. Either that, or she's sleeping, or she's 'busy'."

It takes me a moment to think of a suitable response, but eventually, I say: "Well, Prim... I assure you that your sister and I will be fine, alright? Don't think about it."

"I know." She answers, her face crumpled in an expression I can't quite discern. "But my sister can be very stubborn, and I know she may be giving you such a hard time."

I laugh lightly at her statement, thankful for her naturally good nature. "Don't worry, I can handle it." I say, winking conspiratorially. "You just take care of her while we're not good, okay?"

Prim laughs at my remark and hugs me lightly, whispering: "I really like you for Katniss, you're so good to her. Just be patient with her, okay? She's hard headed, but she's really nice and sweet when you get to know her really well."

I nod, not knowing how else to respond.

"And I promise to take care of her." She adds before skipping back to their doorstep. "She has always taken care of me, but since she took my place at the reaping, I promised myself to do everything I can to do the same for her, to take care of her. Have a nice day, Peeta!"

That conversation with Prim has been at the forefront of my mind since then. I've always known that Katniss is a good person, especially to her family. I've known how very private she is with her life, and how she has always been so guarded. So why did I not think of that in the arena?

My father visited me in the Victors' Village just as he had promised. It happens quite regularly that I find myself growing less anxious about the Games and the oncoming Victory Tour. At times, my brothers would also come with him, and they would spend the entire time making fun of me and adoring the house. They never brought up the subject we discussed that night, which makes me feel more at ease. In truth, their constant visits and the assurance of their support helped me get through the days. The nights, though still frequented by nightmares, are becoming more bearable. I am also able to make peace with Katniss' decision during the Games. In one way or another, I have finally been able to come to terms with it - eventually, I came to the conclusion that the events in the arena are not her fault, and that she was only doing it to protect both of us. That she didn't do it to "spare her conscience", as my mother put it, but because that's just how she is - a selfless person willing to go against the odds (and the government) in order to help others. The only thing left now is to talk to her again, but how will that conversation go?

Somehow, I feel like a five-year-old again.

As the day of the official start of the Victory Tour comes to a close, the calls from Effie become more persistent than ever. She has grown very anxious about our talents - at one point, Effie ranted about Katniss "being so picky and indecisive with her talent" that she "doesn't know what to do with her anymore!" She tells me all about the list she forwarded to Katniss, one that includes playing the flute, cooking, flower arranging, and the like; all of which I'm certain would only earn a grimace from Katniss. Effie then tells me to persuade Katniss to "please choose one already as the days are flying by" and she doesn't want us to look like nobodies in Panem. I try to console her by telling her that Katniss has always been a fighter, and that I'm sure she'll find one that matches her personality.

Of course, I have no idea whether or not Katniss has decided on a talent already, given that we've avoided each other at all costs. Like before, I have no idea how to approach her, much more now that I have antagonized her. Or perhaps I'm just scared to have her fully turn her back against me after how I reacted when I learned about the act. Perhaps I just don't want to entertain the possibility of totally losing what little I have of her in my life.

Two weeks before the Victory Tour, however, Haymitch suprisingly came to my house in a terrible state - disheveled hair, bloodshot eyes, and dirty clothes. Worrying that something bad might have happened for him to actually leave his sanctuary, I waste no time in asking him to come inside so that I can get him something to eat or drink, but he refuses. Instead, he says, "Do you have any alcohol? The Everdeens sadly don't have one, what a disappointment."

"No, Haymitch, neither do I. I think you really should come inside so that I can get you something proper to digest."

Haymitch grimaces and turns away. "My tributes. You disappoint me."

Two days later, Haymitch's outraged cries and the sound of breaking glass echoes throughout the Village. I hurry to go to his house to find out what happened. The Everdeens arrive there a few seconds earlier, and we come bursting into his house together.

"Haymitch? Haymitch!" I call out.

Another cry comes from the upstairs bedroom, followed by a loud "Stay away from her, you monster!"

I run upstairs and stop the girls when I notice them following. Haymitch's shouting continues. "Stay here, okay? It might not be very safe for you to go up."

"I'm coming with you." Katniss says.

"Haymitch seems to be in a very vulnerable state right now. It might be best if you stay here with your mom and sister, alright? I'll try to talk to him."

"Peeta, it seems to me that he's having delusions. I might be able to help." Mrs. Everdeen responds.

Being the experienced one on healing, Mrs. Everdeen is right, of course. But what are the chances that Haymitch will lash out at them?

Mrs. Everdeen smiles at me then and says, "I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Peeta. But don't worry, I've handled many cases like this."

So all four of us go up to talk to Haymitch. The room that he's at is in a state of disarray, while Haymitch is sprawled on the floor, staring and shouting at things that only he could see. Our arrival doesn't go unnoticed - he turns to look at us as soon as we reach the room, his eyes bloodshot and his whole body shaking. He is also still holding his knife, and randomly slashing it at his delusions.

"Stop! Don't go near me!"

"Haymitch! It's okay, it's just us!" I say loudly.

"These devils! They have her! They want to kill her, and they want to kill me too!"

"We're here now, okay? We won't let them kill you... and her." I say again.

"NO! You can't stop them!" He shouts again. Haymitch then whips his head sideways and screams widely, then gets up and picks up the vase on top of the desk near him, absently throwing it in our direction and missing Prim by a few inches. Prim screams out of surprise, her eyes staring widely at Haymitch.

"Prim!" Katniss shouts. "Stop this, Haymitch!"

"Katniss, get Prim out of here." I tell her. She obliges then, surely not wanting to wait until Prim gets hurt.

By the time that Katniss has left the room, Haymitch has switched from his delirium to a depressive state, in which he crumples to the floor again and begins crying hysterically and sweating excessively. Mrs. Everdeen and I take advantage of this to come near him, and the first thing I do is to remove the knife from his grasp.

"Haymitch? Haymitch, can you hear me?" I say, crouching beside him and trying to look him in the eye. "It's okay Haymitch, we're here. No one's going to hurt you."

He doesn't respond, but instead buries his face in my shoulders and continues to weep there uncontrollably. Behind him, Mrs. Everdeen nods to reassure me that I'm doing the right thing. I notice her take out something from her bag, which I assume to be a medicine for Haymitch. I continue saying reassuring words to Haymitch while Mrs. Everdeen prepares the tools, and grasp him tightly when she is about to inject the medicine.

Haymitch jolts upright as soon as the needle penetrated his skin, and I hold tightly to him to avoid an outburst. Mercifully, he passes out a short while after the medicine entered his bloodstream. I decide to carry him to his bedroom, which turned out to be almost as messy as the room he just overturned.

"He should be out for at least 12 hours." Mrs. Everdeen remarks.

I look at the worry lines etched on her face and the focused gleam in her eye, noting how practiced she really is when it comes to her patients.

"What was that medicine?" I ask her.

"It's a drug I kept from the apothecary. It's useful for detoxification. I didn't have much use for it before as I never really encountered this before; after all, residents here in Twelve barely have enough money for food, much more for alcohol."

I nod, easily understanding what she's talking about. Haymitch is easily the only alcoholic here in District 12.

"He came by my house two days ago, asking for alcohol. He left as soon as he learned I didn't have any. I didn't realize that it would come to this."

"I worried about it that night. Ripper is still waiting for the next supply, so there isn't anything for Haymitch to buy. Two days is already a very long time for Haymitch to go without alcohol, and being as dependent on it as he is, delusions and other side effects are likely to kick in."

We go back downstairs to find Katniss consoling Prim.

"I'm sorry, Mom." Prim hiccups as soon as she sees us. "I wasn't able to help you... I panicked. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it, Prim." Mrs. Everdeen says. "That's understandable, alright? And I won't let you stay there anyway."

"But I should have helped Haymitch instead of getting scared." Prim reasons.

"Little duck, I know you really want Haymitch, but he won't like it if he knows that you got hurt because of him, alright? So you were already helping him by leaving the room." Katniss says. "How is he doing?" She asks her mom.

"He's sleeping now. I gave him a dose of the detox drug."

"I thought you don't like using your supplies from the apothecary."

"It's a special case, Katniss. Haymitch really needs it now, he has been so attached to alcohol that his withdrawal symptoms are heightened. And besides, it's only him who would need that drug, anyway."

Katniss nods. "So what do we do now?"

"Well, I hear the supply from Ripper is coming soon, so I doubt that this would be a problem in the next days or weeks. But for now, we just have to keep an eye on him, help him out while he's going through tough times."

"I can stay to watch out for him." I offer.

"That would be nice." Mrs. Everdeen says. "I can also go from time to time to check on him."

"So it's all settled then." Katniss says. "I'll bring Prim back to the house, make sure that she's okay."

When they leave, Mrs. Everdeen stays for a little while but since Haymitch is still sleeping, she's obviously distracted by Prim's state. I tell her to go back home and that I'll call her when Haymitch comes around so that she can attend to her family's need first. Mrs. Everdeen hesistantly agrees to this, and when I'm finally left alone in Haymich's unit, I decide to leave for a few minutes to fetch a few ingredients from my house so that I can make him a proper meal.

Haymitch's recovery from that state has been a difficult time. The supplies arrive one day later, and when he learns about this (he specifically asked Ripper to go to his house to deliver the bottles as soon as it comes in), he immediately goes back to his old ways. We all decide that it might be best for him and for all of us, since withdrawal from alcohol is obviously making him worse than better. From then on, I decide to stock up on alcohol too in case Haymitch runs out of supply again. Peace returns to the Victors' Village as soon as Haymitch's bout with alcohol withdrawal has passed, and we all go back living our own lives just as we did for the past few months.

As soon as I am able to go back to my house without worrying about Haymitch, I return to my old routine - sleep, bake, eat, paint, and think. The Capitol crews, Effie, and our chaotic lives and lack of privacy as Hunger Games winners will soon be back within a week. I'm not sure which I'm more tensed about - the idea of talking and interacting with Katniss again, or the fact that we will once again be hounded by the very eager Capitol. Will I be able to speak to her this time? I must do so... otherwise, how will we survive this mess and still keep our sanity?

Author's note:

Okay... so I have been very bad with my promise to write a chapter at least every 2 weeks. So here's an extra long chapter for you guys! I'm really sorry about the long delay, and since I don't want to make another promise, I will just have to say that I will do my very best to update as soon as I can. The next chapter will be about the District Tour, which should be interesting.

Thank you Liv, John Doe, and the guest reviewers for leaving something for me to read! I love seeing what the readers have to say about this story. ;)

Please please please, leave a review! Thanks so much!