A/N: As you might have gathered, this story will be hopping around a bit, time wise. It will all revolve around Katniss's death. So, like last chapter, One year earlier meant one year before her death. This chapter is going to be 6 months later, so 6 months after her death. And later, 9 months earlier means nine months before her death. Got it? Good.

SHOUT OUT: Thank you for reviewing, Bernadette (Guest)! Also, thank you for being my first follower, Flyotter! Thank you for the support and/or compliments! :-)

Also, any suggestions, story based, a greatly accepted. Tell me if you have any ideas about the plot or if you don't like something I do, tell me.

Third, can anyone guess who Peeta is going to be in the story? Review and tell me your ideas.

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Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games Trilogy or any familiar concepts from the show Supernatural.

(Updated as of December 2nd, 2014.)

-RC

6 months later…

This was different. That's all she gathered from her new surroundings. Of everything her soul experienced thus far, this felt the most real. Her mouth was dry, abnormally so. Katniss could feel how deprived she was, of everything.

Her hands trailed down to her pant pockets. Inside she found her lighter, It was a tight squeeze but she managed to bring it up to her face. When it lit, she could see where she was… all around her was wood… and dirt. Her eyes widened with realization. As terrified as she was, her strength held.

Being buried alive wasn't that bad? Was it? 'Of all things, it had to be this?' She began to pant, panic setting in. She could find a way out of this, couldn't she? It's not that bad…

That's when she heard it. Above her, the sounds of the dirt shifting. Then, ribbons or sunlight breaking through the planks that had separated her from the earth. The pounding of feet soon ceased and she was left alone once again.

She pried up the lid of her casket and stood up. There she was, in a six foot deep hole. 'My grave…' She hurried out of the ground, landing on soft green grass. That's when it truly occurred to her. She was back. In the real world. This wasn't some new form of torture, she was really alive again!

She breathed in all the air she could take. And she was overzealous until another thought dawned on her. Prim, she must've done this… Why would she do that, it's been so long… At least for her. Katniss felt like she'd lived a life time down there. How could Prim do this to her. She'd sold her soul to save Prim in the first place. In a fit of rage she stomped her foot and then cried out in pain. She'd stepped directly on a shovel. 'Ow!' Wait? So somebody dug her out. She was quite surprised that it took her so long to figure that out but she could blame it on her physical state. 'So, someone saved me. But who? And where did they go?'

For good measure, she called out, "Prim?" No response.

Her thirst became apparent then, she rushed away from her grave site and her beautiful meadow. Each step she took was excruciating do to her injury and she had to take several breaks because of the dehydration but she soon found a small gas station that was surprisingly deserted. Not what she expected. She entered slowly and cautiously. Everything was in working order, she even looked up to see herself on the security camera. The first thing she did was go to their fridge and gulp down at least three bottles of water. She laughed as she thought of what she must look like. Then she went to their cash register and took some money. After she exited, her eyes spotted a pay phone and she grinned. She dialed the number and waited.

"Hello?" A gruff voice responded. Her heart pounded at the sound so familiar.

"Haymitch, it's me. I need you to come get-"

"I'm sorry, I don't know a 'me'." He slurred, although she couldn't tell why he was so drunk. By this time, it'd take a lot for anything to really affect him.

"Katniss. It's me Katniss." She clarified with a roll of her eyes.

"Look, I don't know who this is, but just know that this isn't funny." She could almost hear his scowl. She didn't even have the time to tell him to wait before the line was cut.

She sighed roughly and ran her fingers through her loose hair. 'Shit.' Without a second thought, she hot wired one of the empty vehicles in the lot and gunned it to Haymitch's.

Through the drive, her frustration turned to anger. So, when she got to the old car shop, she stomped- no, limped- her way to the door and rang the doorbell over and over again. To be honest, it made her feel a bit better.

"Whoever it is, I'm trying to pass out here so screw off!" A shout resounded from behind the door. That's when she decided to annoy him out of hiding.

"Haymitch!" She yelled, never stopping the ringing. "Haymitch, come on, open the door!" She heard a sharp grunt and the click of a gun before he appeared in the doorway.

She had to admit, he looked god awful. He normally at least attempted to shave but now he had a long tangled mess on his face. His bloodshot eyes squinted as he, without hesitation, pointed his gun down and shot her in the calf. 'Two injuries within two hours, jeez!'

"Haymitch- ughh! What the hell?!" She screamed.

He was unwavering, "Who are you?" he growled. He pushed her against a wall, his forearm holding her up by her throat. "I'll ask again… Who. Are. You?" 'Damn, Haymitch could be scary.'

"I told you on the phone," She shot back. "It's me!" That's when he brought out the silver. He sliced up her arm, and while it hurt, it didn't burn. "I'm not a freaking shapeshifter!" She screamed. "Stop it!" Then he brought out the holy water, "Or a demon!" He continued, using any imaginable substance to hurt her. "Haymitch, I told you, it's me." It was only then that Haymitch stood back and left her in his hallway, favoring the bathroom apparently.

She hobbled over to his couch and sat, finally able to apply pressure to her bleeding leg. It was twenty minutes later when Haymitch came out, looking much more sober and clean. No hideous beard either. "Oh, you're still here." He remarked in passing.

She squinted, a dumbfounded look on her face as he just passed her by. When he'd come back with a flask in hand, she'd finally had enough. "Haymitch," she said through her teeth, "do you wanna patch me up?"

He looked at her, really looked at her since she'd first come here. And with no hesitation, he sat beside her and took her into his arms. She felt safe and secure. But she couldn't move. Her body just went rigid and stiff. He soon let go and left her there while he got supplies for her leg.

After all was done, she went to shower and take a nap.

Her dreams were oddly sweet.

She saw his eyes again.

And his hair.

But most of all, she felt his lips.

Against hers.

It wasn't what she'd expected. After all, she had plenty of nightmare worthy material after being in hell for however long it'd been. She reminded herself to ask Haymitch. Ask him about a lot of things actually. Like, 'Where's Prim?'. It didn't occur to her that she didn't know the man in her dreams until she was in her bathroom, looking in the mirror. There she saw it. She had a hickey! 'How- how the hell-? I really need to stop saying that word.' She laughed at the thought before going back to reality. How did she get a hickey? Her dreams? What? She was taken aback at the thought that her dreams were real.

And, despite how creepy and terrifying it all was, she only wanted to find out who he was, not exact her revenge. It was a weird turn of events. So she put a turtleneck under her leather jacket instead of the usual tee. And after her jeans, she found her way downstairs.

Haymitch was there. Alone. At his desk. She didn't really want to bother him but, she had to know. "Haymitch?" She called. He grunted in response. The regular. "I have some questions."

That got his attention. "I think I do too." As much as she didn't want to talk about it, it was only fair.

"Okay. Me first. How long was I… gone?" She frowned at the thought.

"6 months." She waited for him to ask about her time in hell. What did she experience 'down under'. It never came. "Sweetheart," His voice was so soft and sympathetic, "are you okay?" Definitely not what she'd expected.

"Um…" What did she say? She could lie, 'Yeah, I'm completely fine, my soul has just been tortured for 6 months. No biggy.' or she could be truthful, 'No, I'm a wreck. And not just emotionally.' or… "I don't know."

"Well, just tell me if I can do anything to help." His eyes crinkled as he smiled. It was an actually nice moment between the two. Then he got up from his chair to go to the kitchen.

"Where's Prim?" He stood frozen. She didn't take that as a good sign.

"I don't know. I've tried to find her. I've tried to call her. All her phones are disconnected."

"She's not talking to you?" Katniss was confused. "Why?"

"You have to understand, after you… left, she got in a rut. She stayed her for a while but, I guess my habits got too much for her." He sighed and sat back down, foregoing that other beer. "She was doing hunts by herself for a while, nothing big, vamps and things," It was 3 months ago that she stopped calling on a regular basis. When she did call, she didn't sound like herself. If… if anything, she sounded like you." This was not what she expected to hear.

"What?" She breathed. This wasn't what she ever wanted to hear. 'No, no, no.' Prim was supposed to have a life, supposed to be normal. That's all she ever wanted. Not to turn into some twisted version of Katniss. She remembers when they'd had the conversation…

9 months earlier...

Her hand gripped the steering wheel tightly, she hadn't wanted to have this conversation. "Prim-"

"No Katniss!" Her eyebrows shot up. Of all the years they'd been alive, not once had Prim ever interrupted her. Contradicted her.

"Prim-" She tried again.

"Katniss listen to me! I can't do this without you. You're acting as if this isn't a big deal but it is!"

"Then don't!" She snapped. "Go live that happy life you've always wanted." She softened a bit. "You don't have to feel guilty… You don't have to look back. But after this year is up, you leave and you don't put yourself in danger anymore. Do that for me."

The voice that responded was rough from crying but most of all pity filled, "Okay."

She smiled, trying the make light of the situation, "And no making deals with demons."

They'd agreed. Prim wasn't going to hunt anymore. So why was she. "We have to find her. We have- I need to talk to her." She jumped from her seat and grabbed Haymitch by the arm. They were finding her sister, no matter what.