Of my own request: AU in which Olive is reaped for the Hunger Games
"You have five minutes."
The cabin door slid open to reveal a tiny, one couch room. Numbly, Haymitch walked through the entrance, feeling Effie press close to his back. This room held so many memories for him. Both as a tribute and as a mentor. But never, not once, had he come in here for a reason such as this. His eyes scanned the area, finally landing on the mere twelve year old figure who sat among the plush cushions. Her gaze fixed on his, a look of terror on her face that matched the fear he felt in his heart. Her mouth opened, the words causing his stomach to twist in guilt, rage, and sorrow.
"Mom," Olive swallowed. "Dad."
"Oh…" Effie whispered, her voice already breaking. "Oh…oh Olive…"
He watched as she rushed to her side, embracing their daughter as if it were the last time they'd ever see her. But he couldn't afford to think of it like that. She was going to come home. She had to. Fingers digging into the flesh of his palms, he looked upon them in silence. His own tongue to thick to get anything out.
"This isn't fair," Effie choked out. "How can they not let us come with you to the Capitol? Your father is a mentor! He is required to go with the tributes! They can't just…just reassign you with someone who hasn't even fought in the Games! There has to be some rule against this. There has to be…there…"
He had to speak now. At this rate, his kid was going to go off fighting without any means of advice. Inhaling, Haymitch stepped forward, his heart pounding in his ears as he pulled his daughter from her mother's arms. He could feel her tense under his grip and he held her in front of him. She was scared. She should be.
"Listen," he said quickly. "We don't have much time, Olive. Look at me," he took her face in his hands as she tried to turn away, tears forming in the gray eyes they shared. "Look at me. This is nothing but some stupid game. Don't think of it as anything else. When you go out there, you don't feel sympathy. You don't care about anyone else. These kids you're going against, you think of them as chess pieces. You have no morals out there. Do you understand?"
"Dad," Olive shuttered. "But I…I can't kill…I can't…"
"You'd be surprised what someone is capable of when thrown into a situation," Haymitch said sternly. "And that's why you have to damn well be careful. No allies. You trust no one, you understand? These kids aren't your friends. You aren't going to all bond over a campfire in the middle of the arena. This is a matter of life or death. Anyone comes after you or just comes up to you, you kill them. There is no alternative. You don't think. Trust your immediate instincts."
"Three minutes," the Peacekeeper called in.
"Your mother and I can't be there for you, Olive," Haymitch informed her. "But we'll do whatever the hell we can here to help out. Pool some donations together. Whatever it takes. Just remember that we're at home safe. If you hear our voices in the arena, they aren't real. If we come up to you in the arena, that isn't us. None of it is. We are home safe. You understand?"
"I'm confused, dad," Olive swallowed. "What do you-"
"The Capitol can do some twisted things with muttations," Haymitch interrupted. "Just remember that. And with the Game starts, I don't want to see you heading towards the Cornucopia. You run, swim, or even climb away as fast as you can. Your first priority is water. You find a weapon later. Let the stupid ones get killed off first. Find shelter. No fires. No open areas. Don't touch anything that is beautiful. Don't eat anything unless you are absolutely sure of what it is. You stay in the shadows. Alright?"
She nodded her head, "Okay."
Without a word, Haymitch began to fumble around in his pocket. Olive looked on quietly, watching as he suddenly produced a small, golden pin. She heard her mother gasp quietly from beside her as her father took her hand and pressed it into her palm. Curious, she gazed down at it. It was some sort of bird. Not a sparrow. Not a goose. Something she had never seen before.
"A Mockingjay. This belonged to an old friend," he told her. "She died not long after you were born."
"From the Games?" Olive asked softly.
Haymitch shook his head, "No. Trying to stop them. This was her token when she was in the Games though. Twice she won. It was practically unheard of for someone to win a the Hunger Games in District Twelve. Much less two at the same time. She and this boy beat the odds in several different ways."
"And what happened to him?" Olive asked. "Is he still around?"
Haymitch shook his head, closing Olive's hand around the pin. "It's yours now," he told her. "It means more than some decoration, Olive. It's hope."
The cabin door opened and three Peacekeepers walked in. Olive watched as they began to push her parents back towards the entrance. She stepped forward only to be blocked by the third guard. They hadn't even given her the full allotted time. She hadn't even been given the chance to say goodbye.
"Olive!" Haymitch called out, trying to resist the guard's actions. "You're going to come home. You're going-"
But the door slammed shut before he could finish. Olive watched the entrance in silence, the pin feeling heavy in her hand. Slowly she sat down, clutching her father's last gift close to her chest. She was going to win. No matter what it took. She was going to go home to be with her parents. Carefully, she brought the object before her eyes, studying the intricate design of the strange bird. May this bring the odds ever in her favor.