She arrived quickly, and she arrived silently. She was suddenly just here. From the moment she walked in through our front door she was nothing but business. Mom got right to work on Haymitch. She spoke to all of the doctors; asked questions Peeta and I hadn't ever even thought to ask. I didn't have any time to regret asking her to come because the instant she arrived she made our lives a little easier. I was able to hold Amy again without being overwhelmed. I could be a wife again to Peeta.

And even though she was making our lives phenomenally easier, I still couldn't help but revert to that same child I was. I didn't want her helping. I did not want her in our lives again. She could not be trusted to keep us sane. After all of these years, after the lives we have managed to lead, she still gives Peeta sideways glances. She does not trust him. And I do not trust her.

It's time for me to go visit Haymitch. I bundle Amy up and place her in her stroller. It's heading into autumn now and the weather has cooled significantly. Peeta is in town working for Thom while he visits family in District 2. I decide to swing by the store and see him after Haymitch. Without a passing glance to my mother I walk out the front door and head to the Hospital.

"Katniss, wait." I don't know why I do it, but I stop walking. I can hear her walking behind me and when she is by my side I do not move. "Katniss please look at me," she whispers. Going against everything that I am, I slowly turn my head towards her. "Katniss, I'm trying I really am." I close my eyes and reprimand myself when I feel tears come on. "It's been a lifetime since you really tried," I say. "Now there is a man who despite everything he has been put through, and he has been put through losses as deep as your own, who has tried. Despite his very obvious flaws and imperfections, he has tried. He has been there for me when my own mother left. And right now, he is lying in a hospital bed and he needs me. And I will be there for him. Because he tried." I did not shed one single tear although my throat was thick with them.

The wind blows through my jacket and makes me shiver as I turn my back and silently walk away.

I brace myself for whatever version of Haymitch I might find today. Will he be alert and awake? Or will he be sallow and unresponsive. I find that more and more it is the latter. So when I open his door and he is sitting up and wide-eyed and rosy cheeked I am immediately on guard. "What's got you so chipper today?" I push Amy's stroller so that she is beside his bed. As I work to release Amy from her seat, Haymitch speaks.

"Apparently they think they've found me a donor." I fumble with the straps securing Amy and stand straight. This time, I do not halt any tears. These tears are not brought on by malice, but sheer happiness. "They what? A donor?"
My words come out as a whisper and I am breathless. Is it really happening? A donor?

"Evidently someone is crazy enough to prolong my life." I roll my eyes. Typical Haymitch. I hear Amy let out a cry and I look down at her. She is reaching forward with her arms towards Haymitch. I lift her up and hold her to my hip. "Do you know who the donor is?" He shakes his head. "I didn't want to know." This surprises me. I would want to know who to thank. I do want to know who to thank. I raise an eyebrow to which he answers in a hushed tone. "If it's a stranger, they're risking their life for me and I don't want to be apart of that. If it's someone I know, I'll have to see their face constantly and know that I took something from them. Something vital."

These things had never once crossed my mind but I can understand what Haymitch means. This isn't something I have had to live with, but debt isn't something I could ever ignore. Knowing someone made that kind of sacrifice for me...I don't think I would be able to live with that kind of debt without repaying it back. But how exactly would you pay that kind of debt back? It's like the bread Peeta gave me all of those years ago. For the longest time, the debt that I felt I owed to him was impossible to repay. But this is literal life being given to Haymitch. The implications are enough to send me hyperventilating.

"I don't think I could know either." And yet there is a part of me demanding to find out. But if Haymitch doesn't want to know, it isn't my place to find out. I push all of these thoughts to the back of my mind and focus on something else. Everything might be ok. Amy is still reaching for Haymitch, so I settle her down next to him. She snuggles into his side. He looks down at her, and can't help but smile. His smile quickly fades though when his eyes meet mine.

"I don't want someone else losing their life for me. Not over this. I'm old. I've lived my life. I barely live as it is. I just don't want that hanging over me for the rest of this excuse of a life."

My old hatred for the Capitol bubbles forth. Them. Their games. This is their fault once more. Without the disgusting things they made us do, Haymitch would be a normal member of society. Married, with a mother and a brother. Sane, with a life of absolute normalcy. I am confidant in thinking Haymitch would not have turned to alcohol as a savior had this life had a chance to be. Why would he have need of such a crutch if he had no knowledge of any of the horrors that my version of Haymitch does? No. Instead he is lying in a hospital bed, his life ebbing away. And now, presented with a chance to live, he has to worry about taking away from someone else's life. Will the scars of the Capitol ever truly fade? I wonder if the Capitol will become a story meant to scare children later on. It's definitely frightening enough.

Even with the Capitol fallen, the arena's torn down, the Games at an end; the future generations will still have reap the repercussions. They will have disturbed parents, faulty grandparents; who knows how far down the ancestral line these wounds will travel. Amy has fallen asleep next to Haymitch.

"Everything will be ok."

He snorted. "Don't make promises you can't keep. We both know how that story ends."

Yes I do. That story does just that. It ends. But still. I can't shake the feeling everything might be ok. I take Haymitch's hand and give it a light squeeze. "Everything might be ok." He chuckles. "That's better."

After I've left the hospital, promising to return within the next couple hours with Peeta, I make a mad dash for Thom's hardware store. The wheels on Amy's stroller are getting torn to bits I'm sure as I grind them against the pavement. I burst through the door to find Peeta straightening up one of the shelves. "He found a donor," I say, breathless from the run. His hands are around my arms; I realize only a second later he is holding me up. He has a big smile on his face and I know it must mirror my own. "He has a donor!" The tears are still falling. I reach up and brush some off of Peeta's cheeks. Amy begins to fuss again and so I take her once more from her seat and hold her close between me and Peeta. When his arms wrap around the two of us, I sigh. Maybe, just maybe, this won't be a tragedy after all. Peeta gets on the phone and calls another one of the workers to come in for him while he comes with me to see Haymitch.

"Why don't we see if your mother can watch Amy for us while we go?"

It makes sense. It really does. I'm about to say no when Peeta just gives me this look. I know that look. It's the look he gives me when I am being unreasonable and stubborn. He's right though. We need to talk to Haymitch and the doctors and it would be a lot easier if we didn't have a fussy Amy with us.

I whip my head and around and start pushing the stroller back towards our house. When I walk in the front door, I'm not at all surprised to find my mother pouring over her medical books. I've always thought she knew herself best when she was practicing medicine. She looks younger when she's focused. She looks less troubled; less like the mother I've always known and more like the mother I've always wanted. A part of me hates to interrupt her. A more dominant part of me, the part of me that raised her child while she withered away, a part of me that had to lose everything not once or twice but several times while she sat back and disappeared, is glad to.

"Can you please watch Amy for us? We've got to go to the hospital. They've found a donor for Haymitch!" Peeta beat me to it. He was much kinder in asking than I had intended to be. His fingers clutched mine; he knows exactly what I would have said.

Mother looks up, startled; she was so deep in thought she hadn't even heard us come through the door? Shocking; my mother so out of touch with her surroundings. She looks at me, asking with her eyes. Please forgive me.
I do not even blink, daring her to deny her grandchild. Daring her to deny me. Normally, if someone couldn't watch Amy, I was more than understanding. But after everything my mother hasn't done…

"Of course Peeta, I'll watch her." I break eye contact with her finally. I'm out the door before Peeta. I hear him tell my mother we'll back as soon as we can. I start the walk to the hospital but Peeta pulls me back.

"Wait Katniss."

"Not if what you have to say is about her."

He wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. I can feel him chuckle. "It's not. I just…I just wanted to hold you, even if it is just for a second." I lean into him, wrapping my arms around his waist and holding him close. I lay my head against his chest and I feel his heart beat against mine. Moments where we were alone were so rare that even a touch to the cheek or a squeeze of the hand was a miracle. I missed having Peeta hold me. I miss it more than words can say.

Peeta slowly moves away from me, pulling my lips with his. Yes. I miss this very much. Not forgetting the task at hand, I shake my head, my breath erratic. Peeta's face is flushed and his eyes snap open. "Haymitch," I whisper. The frustration in my voice is not hidden at all.

"Haymitch," agrees Peeta. "And it was nice of your mom to watch Amy on such short notice." I growl.

When we get back to the hospital, Haymitch is still awake sitting in the same position and I wonder if he has moved at all. It's been at least an hour. He lights up a little bit when he sees the two of us. Being in the hospital put him through painful withdraws and forced him into an unpleasant sobriety so he doesn't sleep all that much. Without the alcohol to chase away the nightmares, why bother trying?

We take our seats next to him, Peeta's hand in mine as the doctor walks in. He smiles at us and I am instantly assured. If a doctor is smiling, that means good things are going to happen, right?

"Well Mrs. Mellark, your mother has passed all of the tests and we are pleased to say she's a perfect match for Mr. Abernathy."

Wrong.

Author's Note: I unintentionally lied. This chapter is still short. But I felt like I left it off at a good place. Chapter 8 is already one-sixteenth of the way done (not an actual calculation)! As always, I love all of the love I get. You guys feed my ego like crazy. KEEP FEEDING THE EGO MONSTER. For real though, thank you so much for the support. I love you all :D

Also, I know the Peeta and Katniss-ness is super lacking, but this chapter had to focus on Haymitch. Next chapter, I promise one of them will lose it and the other will come to the rescue!

(oh and super awesome points to whoever catches the Beauty and the Beast reference).