Warning: These one-shots feature heavy subjects, including alcoholism, drug abuse, and torture... so far. Now adding: depression, cheating, heartbreak and underage. I'll add more as the story wears on, just in case.

AN: Credit goes to HannahSongla for the story idea. Please go check out her Hayniss story similar to this - Sweetheart. Credit goes to Suzanne Collins for the verse and the characters. I don't really own anything but the text of these one-shots. And no, that doesn't mean the song lyrics or the playlist. Enjoy c:

Song: Ready, Aim, Fire by Imagine Dragons

Ready, Aim, Fire

Ready, aim, fire
An empire's fall in just one day
You close your eyes and the glory fades
Ready, aim, fire away

"You know what you have to do, Haymitch," a voice says through his head piece. The voice is cold, not an inch of emotion buried within it. Below him, she stares at him with wide eyes the color of a bullet. Haymitch shuts his eyes against the image of her face, pressing the barrel of the gun against her forehead again. "Follow. Your. Orders." The voice instructs, urging his hand. His finger twitches and he presses down again, attempting to will himself to do it. Closing his eyes isn't helping - he can still feel her warmth breath on his lips and feel those bullet grey eyes staring at him. He turns his head away from her, his finger pressing gently on the trigger before releasing it helplessly. He can't do it. He can't kill her.

"Carry out your orders, Abernathy. The system is at stake," the voice demands - it is calm but firm. He knows that is he doesn't do it, they'll take over his mind again and make him do it themselves. That would be the worst part - killing her and not even knowing that he had done it. Again, his finger threatens the trigger. Again, he releases and sputters.

"Look at me," she says, grabbing his face and forcing him to look at her. He fights against her hand, knowing that if he looks at her again, his resolve will crumble and he won't be able to do it. He's already unable to do it, but it'll be damn near impossible if he ask to look her face again. He can't hurt this girl and he's too much of a coward to ignore his orders. Dauntless, he tells himself. I am not Divergent. I follow the path of least resistance. I am not Divergent. I am Dauntless. I am brave. I am not kind. I am not selfless. I am not intelligent. I am not honest. I am brave. I am Dauntless. I need to obey my orders.

Her voice brings him out of his mantra and he squeezes his eyes shut again, forcing the barrel with a shaking hand. He removes the safety. "Look at me, Haymitch. It's me. Look at me." He can't look at her, and he knows it. He knows that he is weak, and that if he looks at her, he will submit to whatever she wants. There are orders he needs to carry out, there are things he needs to do. And if his resolve crumbles, then so will the system. He cannot be weak. He needs to be Dauntless. He needs to be brave. He needs to follow his orders.

Look at me," she insists again. He presses the barrel tighter against her forehead, worrying his lip between his teeth so badly that the metallic taste of blood fills his mouth. There are people watching, he can feel their eyes on him, prepared to shut him down if he cannot follow through with his orders. People want him to get rid of this cretin that threatens the system, and he should be able to. The system keeps things in order, keeps people in order. So why can't he obey it? "I love you. Look at me."

He dares a peep - just the smallest of glances. Smooth grey eyes, staring at him with nothing but trust and love. No fear, no anger, no conviction. There is nothing there that tells him she is something that should be disposed of. Just trust and love. Her hair, pulled back into a messy and sloppy braid - a braid that he had done for her this morning when she'd woken up in his bed. A braid that she had laughed about but had not fixed.

"I love you. It's me," she whispers, refusing to let him lose eye contact with her. "I love you." He can't do it, he thinks, allowing his arm to slacken just a bit. He'd walk barefoot through miles of rusted nails just to see her smile. He couldn't possibly shoot her, he would rather set the world afire than kill her. He loved her.

He was not just Dauntless. He was also kind, selfless, intelligent and honest. He was Divergent.

And he would give it all up for her.

With our backs to the wall
The darkness will fall
We never quite thought
We could lose it all