Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.

The Parting Glass
By FanficAllergy

oOo

Title: The Parting Glass
Theme: 45: Memory
Words: 1925
Summary: Haymitch, remembered.

oOo

Haymitch Abernathy died peacefully in his sleep on Independence Day at the age of sixty two. Despite hard drinking and hard living, he still managed to live a full life despite the difficulties he faced in life.

Married to Effie Trinket, of all people, at the age of forty five. A father at forty seven and again at fifty. He lived long enough to see both of his children reach reaping age safely without having the fear of being selected for the Games. Something he confided to Peeta and Katniss one night he never thought he would be able to do.

He never got over the guilt of watching forty six children from Twelve die on his watch. So on June First every year, the former Reaping Day now known as Memorial Day, Haymitch and Effie would take a bucket of spring flowers to the small cemetery by the Victor's Village. There, they would lay a flower on each grave and say something good about each fallen Tribute: Jess Martin was good with kids; Gemma Overtree danced like an angel; Niobe Westerson knew where to find the prettiest flowers; Cal Holmes had the sweetest smile; and on and on down the lines of graves. Special attention was paid to Maysilee Donner from Haymitch's own year. Without her, he claimed, he would have never survived the Quell or been motivated to start a rebellion after seeing her district token on Katniss's sleeve. She was the original Mockingjay, silenced too soon in the Fiftieth Hunger Games.

Effie found him when she went to wake him for breakfast. The former escort, now logistics manager for Twelve, had to be sedated afterwards. They'd been together for over thirty years when she was appointed escort for District Twelve in the Sixtieth games. The shock of losing him after so many years broke her.

Which meant that Katniss and Peeta were responsible for making the arrangements for the wake and funeral since Flora and Laurence were both too young to do so. Dropping off their own two kids, Challa and Oleander, with Thom and Delly, Katniss and Peeta went upstairs to see to the body. Carefully, they carried Haymitch downstairs and out to a table set up in the yard. There, they gently stripped him out of his pajamas and washed his body before dressing him in his finest clothes and placing flowers on his eyes and in the lapel of his jacket.

"This doesn't seem right," Katniss said, rearranging one of the flowers on Haymitch's eyes.

"In what way?" Peeta asked.

"Haymitch hated wearing suits. And he hated funerals. Said he'd attended too many in his life." Considering that he'd attended each of the fallen tributes' funerals along with the funerals of his friends who had died in the rebellion, he'd probably been to over seventy five of the things including his mother's, brother's and girlfriend's funerals.

Peeta made a noise of agreement. "So what do you want to do about it?"

"I don't know. But everyone standing around all solemn isn't what Haymitch would have wanted. He'd want people to be laughing and telling jokes and drinking."

"Definitely the drinking," Peeta said with a small smile. "Remember how angry he was when I poured out all of his alcohol before the Quarter Quell?"

"Yeah. I think he would have killed you if he could."

"Well, I'm glad he didn't."

Katniss reached over Haymitch's body to clasp one of Peeta's hands. "I'm glad he didn't too."

"So what do you think we should do? Throw a party?" Peeta's tone was teasing.

Katniss considered it. "You know, it's not a bad idea. We could have music and dancing and everyone could tell their favorite Haymitch story. We all have one."

"Then that's what we'll do. Let's go tell Effie."

Effie agreed that Haymitch would have hated a traditional funeral. She hated them too since one of her duties as escort had been to escort the bodies of her dead tributes back to District Twelve. "Additionally, any function where alcohol is provided would be right up Haymitch's alley."

Because of the heat of summer, the burial took place the next day. It was fairly well attended, despite the short notice and Haymitch's antisocial tendencies which had never truly gone away. Thom, as mayor, said a few nice things about Haymitch, mostly stressing how he'd managed to plan and execute a rebellion right under Snow's nose.

It was because of Haymitch's fame that the memorial party wouldn't take place until the following weekend. People from all over Panem wanted to attend. Annie and her son. Gale and his family. Johanna and hers. Former President Paylor. The list of dignitaries went on and on.

Haymitch would have been appalled.

The day of the party arrived and with it a deluge of strangers, press, and politicians.

It was a mess.

Twelve was still rebuilding from its destruction during the war and the reception hall in the new Justice Building wouldn't be able to hold everyone who wanted to attend. Effie, ever efficient Effie, hastily made arrangements for the party to be moved outside into the town square with tents holding the bar and food areas. A bonfire was erected and a stage set up for the musicians to perform. Effie got the event started, channeling her old escort persona.

"It's weird hearing her old Capitol accent," Katniss muttered to Peeta.

"It's a defense mechanism," Peeta whispered back. "She's probably struggling not to cry."

"At least she's not wearing that silly wig of hers or those terrible heels."

Peeta smiled at the memory. "Haymitch would laugh at her. He always said he preferred the plain Effie to the gilded one."

Both of them were seated on the main stage along with Flora and Laurence. It was expected that Haymitch's family would be visible during the event. Something that both Katniss and Peeta could have done without. Both of them had had enough of being in the spotlight, but for Haymitch, they'd endure it one last time.

When Effie finished her welcome, she invited people to come up to a podium and microphone to say a few words about Haymitch. For several long moments, no one volunteered.

Katniss swore under her breath, "Cowards." She got to her feet.

"What are you doing?" Peeta whispered, snagging her wrist.

"Starting the fire." She paused for a beat. "Again."

Peeta nodded his head. "Light 'em up."

She crossed the stage and took her place at the podium. She knew what people would see. The Mockingjay, older and wiser, with lines around her eyes and mouth, still the proud, thin, dark-haired girl with olive skin. The skin was scarred now, a remnant of Coin's failed gambit. But the pride remained.

"Most of you know who I am," she started. "Most of you know the stories of how Haymitch saved Peeta and me in the Seventy Fourth Hunger Games." People nod, they know the stories. Everyone over the age of seven did. "I'm here to tell you that you don't know the half of it."

Someone in the audience gasped.

Katniss ignored them. "Haymitch didn't plan on saving both of us. He didn't even plan on saving me. He thought I was an unlikeable wretch with no personality. He wasn't wrong. I didn't trust Haymitch and I didn't bother to hide it from him. Back then, all anyone knew was that Haymitch was the lone mentor from District Twelve who spent the Games, and the rest of the year, falling down drunk. No one liked him. No one respected him. And he knew it."

A few members of the audience, those who knew and remembered Haymitch from those days, flushed in embarrassment.

"Haymitch didn't let the disdain and hatred he got stop him from doing his job. He tried to save every single one of his tributes. Every one. But it's hard to do when everyone thinks you come from a losing district, when the tribute always goes last, when they're dressed in disastrous fashions that have no business being allowed on a dummy, let alone a scared child. The odds were stacked against him and still he didn't give up. When Peeta and I came along, he finally had two tributes who were willing and able to fight. When Cinna and Portia joined his team, he finally had someone who could make them shine. Together with Effie Trinket, his future wife, he begged and pleaded with the Capitol elite to get sponsorship money so we stood a chance in the Arena. But more than that, he turned an unlikeable girl with no personality into the Mockingjay with a few carefully staged moments."

The crowd leaned forward, enraptured with Katniss's story.

"I'm going to tell you a secret. I didn't love Peeta during the Seventy Fourth Hunger Games."

There were several gasps from the audience.

Again Katniss ignored them. "Peeta loved me. But I didn't love him. Not then. Not yet. The whole love story was a sham. A trick thought up by Haymitch to convince the Gamemakers that two tributes winning the Games would make for a great story. And it worked. They changed the rules and then it was just up to me and Peeta to make it through to the end. I don't know if you are aware of just how difficult that really was. You've seen the tapes. But the reality was worse. So much worse and Haymitch had to watch every second of it. Without him, I'd have never gotten the medicine to fix my leg after the fire jets or the food we needed to survive while Peeta healed from blood poisoning and I healed from fighting Clove. We might have made it through the Arena, but without his efforts as a mentor we'd have both died in there."

She paused to take a breath. "People always give Peeta and me so much credit. They forget that without Haymitch neither of us would be here or even together. Haymitch kept us alive in both Games and even started a rebellion to try to save us. Later, in Thirteen, he argued for saving Peeta and the other captured victors because he knew how much it would break me to lose Peeta. Without him, Peeta would have never recovered from what the Capitol did to him. Without him, I'd have never recovered from the war."

She allowed that to sink in for several long moments.

"Haymitch Abernathy was more than a drunk mastermind. He was a caring man who loved deeply and fully. Once you got inside the armor he barricaded himself under, you became something more than a friend to him." She looked back at Peeta, Effie, Flora, and Laurence. "You became family."

She turned around and faced the audience again. "So as one of Haymitch's family, please come up and share your stories of the drunk, the victor, the mastermind, and the man." She reached under the podium for the bottle of spirits she'd stowed there earlier and pulled it out. Holding it aloft, she said, "So drink with me this parting glass to Haymitch Abernathy, the best damned bastard I ever knew."

For the rest of the night, all across the square, people cried out, "To Haymitch!" and took a drink in his honor. Once Katniss had broken the ice, others came up to share their stories. By the time the dawn broke the following day, most people were nursing hangovers and cursing the light.

It was the best memorial Haymitch Abernathy could ask for.

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AN:

Written: 11/2/14
Revised: 11/2/14
Beta Reader: RoseFyre

For Daniel.

May the road rise to meet you.
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face.
And rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the hollow of His hand.

Until we meet again, my friend. Until we meet again.