Warning: These one-shots feature heavy subjects, including alcoholism, drug abuse, suicide and torture... so far. Now adding: depression, cheating, heartbreak, underage, implied prostitution, suicidal thoughts, someone having acid thrown on them, smut, implied rape/non-con, self-harm. I'll add more as the story wears on, just in case.

Disclaimer: 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:

AN: Betcha thought I was on hiatus again, didn't you? No, I wasn't. I had left my laptop at my aunt's house and I had to wait until we went back to get it again. I'm back friends! Also, not a lot of Hayniss - ;-; - in this chapter, but I feel like Peeta doesn't get enough love in any of my fics.

Song: Work Song by Hozier

That's when my baby found me
I was three days on a drunken sin
I woke with her walls around me
Nothin' in her room but an empty crib

Peeta Mellark was the embodiment of everything that was not Katniss Everdeen. And that wasn't fair.

That wasn't fair because Peeta Mellark was nice and sweet and light and he was smooth around the edges. Peeta Mellark was sugar and spice and everything nice. Peeta Mellark was happiness.

That wasn't fair because Katniss Everdeen was mean and angry and dark and she was rough everywhere - especially her edges. Katniss Everdeen was whiskey and wine and nothing fine. Katniss Everdeen was sadness.

Katniss would come out a survivor - she'd survived on her own for five years, raised her sister and fed her family and suffered the withers of poverty. Katniss would come out the same she went in - burning the fiery anger that she was. Peeta Mellark would come out broken - he had survived the tail end of a wooden spoon or a belt or a fist or whatever suited his mother's fancy, but he'd had a cushiony life. Or at least, as cushioned as it came in District 12. Peeta Mellark would go in and he would come out broken and scarred and he would never be the same.

Or maybe Haymitch underestimates him.

Peeta falls into a damn near year of torture and he comes out with his hands around Katniss' neck and a dead, robotic, anger in his eyes. The anger he'd seen in a mutt's eyes right before it ripped a tribute to shreds, an anger that was programmed, not genuinely felt. The scuffle following is a bit of a mess - Katniss is weak from not eating and being high on morphling more often than not, and Haymitch is quick-minded while sober but lacks the strength alcohol gave him. Boggs doesn't even bother fighting, just bangs a silver pan over the mutt's head and steps back.

Katniss and Haymitch exchange confused, worried glances. She crawls to him and wraps her arms around his body. Haymitch holds her and they rock quietly on the floor.

He was too old for this shit.

The boy surivives though - two Arenas and a rebellion changes a person. He survives stronger than before, but also sweeter and kinder and maybe just that much softer than the kid that went into the Games. Maybe it's the death of his blood family and the growth of his surrogate family. Maybe it's the fact that he manages to overcome what the dead President did to him. But it mellows him even further than the original Peeta. Yes, Peeta Mellark survives. Unfortunately, his romance with Katniss does not. At least they leave on good terms, laughing through their tears and hugging tightly - like two friends, sending each other away to one of the Capital Academy's.

"You'll call," Katniss makes him promise. Peeta smiles and the corner of his wrinkle up.

"I promise," Peeta vows, before boarding the train that'll take him to District 4. Haymitch expects tears. He expects anger and whiskey and morphling and reclusiveness. But she just turns and grins at him and laces her fingers with his.

"We're gonna be alright, Haymitch."

He glances down at her, gives a lazy lopsided smirk and swoops down to press his lips against hers. It sudden, and considering circumstances, completely unexpected. But then she kisses back and Haymitch knows that she was right.

They were gonna be alright. All of them.

When I was kissing on my baby
And she put her love down soft and sweet
In the low lamp light I was free
Heaven and hell were words to me