An Unlikely Pair

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By: DarkGiggle

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I make no profit so please don't sue me.

Warnings: Un-beta'd and looking for a beta. Rating and violence level will go up.

This chapter was extra rushed because father's day is looking to be a nightmare for me so I'm updating early to avoid further headache.

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PART 5

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It's Trinket that comes to retrieve me, she squeals at my dress, says, "That's more like it!" tries to hold my hand again and again I don't let her. When we get Hawthorne his face is hard and like before his mind is elsewhere. I know I should tell him of my decision but I'll wait until he is not so lost in his thoughts.

When the car comes up and I move to get in Trinket screeches something incomprehensible and keeps squeakily saying something very, very fast in her Capitol accent that I have no freaking clue what it is. I ignore her, get in the car and it's not until we make it to the station that she speaks slowly enough for me to understand a lady does not get into a car head first and flash everyone behind her. My face is hot when it clicks; so that's what the witch meant. Yet every bit of me goes red when Hawthorne snorts and I realize he was right behind me. I don't leave the car and its tinted windows until I'm back to my normal color.

This turns out to be a brilliant move on my part because blushing that badly in front of so many cameras would have been awful. Still it's nerve wracking to have them swarm us so my friendly smile automatically slides into place while my arms clutch my bindings to me. Hawthorne handles it much better than me and just has this cool aloof look. Heck, he is cool and so handsome he can get sponsors all on his own.

Finally the train takes off and good grief does it launch. It's jarring to feel the speed but that's nothing compared to just seeing the décor. The things around me are unrecognizable but there is no doubt that even one item from here would be worth enough to feed a family for a year. These people have all this but what they want is to see 24 kids kill each other. The thought makes me numb allowing Trinket to easily lead me to the room compartment. More fine things, furnishings, clothes and a full bathroom. I change into my bindings, a tight gray shirt, dark pants and Madge's pin then just lay down on an unbelievably soft bed. It was just supposed to be for a minute, that the minute transformed into an hour and has Trinket fetching me for dinner at the end of it is a shock.

Hunger isn't on my mind until I smell the food and once I taste it stopping is so hard. Our chaperon tut-tuts us the whole meal, saying we eat like barbarians just like normal twelve tributes. Just because I don't like her I start eating with some of the manners the witch drilled into me then pick up the plate to lick it; the scowl of her weird Capitol face is more funny than scary. The meal is half over before it dawns on me someone is missing, "Where is Mr. Abernathy?"

Her bored face is amusing too, but her answer is not. "He might be coming later."

Abruptly my appetite reduces, "But he will come later to discuss strategy for the games with us, right?" Without a mentor's help I don't really know where to begin helping him, off the top of my head maybe I could be bait for one of his traps? It works with the rabbits, right?

"Does that drunkard actually stay drunk for the whole game?"

Hawthorne's voice is so harsh and sudden it startles me, yet it's the idea that has me cringing. He's been to the bakery a few times, father always says to respect Mr. Abernathy but it's clear he pities our only victor. He is drunk very often but surely he will abstain now, surely he will help us.

All worrying seems for not when he stumbles in; literally stumbles and I have to shoot up to catch him before he hits the table. Ew, he still smells of liquor and now maybe a bit of vomit. More to get him away from me I half carry him over to the seat besides Trinket. He slumps there dazedly, long enough for me to sit again. Seeing him up close, only a table width away and not distracted by the reaping, a mess of a man is all that is across from me. How is he supposed to help us? Mr. Abernathy begins to eat and picks water to drink; maybe once he sobers? Trinket certainly seems to take this as a good sign and looks elated.

Uhn. My stomach! Oh thank god I didn't eat to capacity; there is no way I could hold a full belly down. The break in stuffing myself on this fancy Capitol food allows me to realize this stuff is too rich for me. A gagging sound from my fellow green-tinged tribute confirms the same for him.

"Stopping now? But dessert is in just four courses. You won't want to miss it." Says our escort.

Neither of us says anything but at least for me it is a torture to watch her and our mentor eat; each bite they take makes me more nauseous. When they finish I immediately jump on this opportunity, "So what is our strategy for the games?"

Mr. Abernathy belches then, "Wait 'til after the recap tomboy. Need to scope out the competition."

Again our escort, after a flinch at the burp, looks positively overjoyed to hear this and actually smiles at him. It seems to cause a reciprocal flinch in him and I get the feeling that this is not typical for them. If she notes his reaction she doesn't show it, just urges us to keep on schedule and go watch the recap. We have to change cars for this and in doing so I think Mr. Abernathy spies my pin; it caught his gaze for a moment. For a second his eyes go hard and something dangerous peaks out from the Seam gray depths. My nerves make me smile yet further interaction is cut off by the start of the recap.

One, two, three four. Shit, I'd always known the Careers are huge but now they seem especially large. Not District 3 but the others… Well not completely the girls, they are my height and thicker than me by only 20 to 25 pounds. Strength-wise I'm sure I can take them and I am grateful it's me not Madge facing them. My friend is, like the majority of girls from our district, only 5'5". In fact there are only five district females I know of that are around my height. It's the tribute boys that are massive; they are all about Hawthorne's height but very muscular and broad. They could be 50 to70 pounds more than me. Oh things would have been simpler if I'd been born a boy, or at minimum didn't have my mother's thin figure.

The rest of the districts look normal, regular size or a bit sickly. They could be a problem for the average merchant girl or Seam girl but I'm used to brawling, sports and heavy lifting. It's not until the District 11 boy comes up that I worry about size again. I just catch his first name but Thresh is made an impression.

When it's our turn it is surreal to see what all of Panem sees. Her name is called and the eyes of the crowd pinpoint our location for the camera. It is so strange to see it all happen so fast; her shaking, her name again, her dropping, her father calling, the peacekeepers creeping up on us, my shoving her away, volunteering, my charging the stage, her fighting, Trinket's attempt, the mayor's hug and the crowd's silence. It all looks a bit overdramatic and I can't help hating the wetness of my eyes on screen. Then comes the poke and my face burns anew just seeing it, the fiery heat doesn't get better when it's Mayor Undersee's hiss that stops my punch from releasing on an unsuspecting Mr. Abernathy.

Said man in the chair next to me stiffens and it is indiscernible which is worse, the chortling of district people I know, all of Panem witnessing it, the commentator's crude joke or being under my mentor's orbs right now.

Hawthorne's turn is up and it's just as unfortunate and sad as it was then but through the camera's view I notice something. He looks so strong, dark and dangerous next to me. His families' teary break down, somehow including Rory's weepy almost volunteering makes him just look all the stronger. The clear dislike from the majority of the square adds to his appearance of someone connected and powerful. I sneak a peak at the guy beside me on this love seat; he still seems as tough as on TV. I turn back to the recap and watch myself on stage. I can't tell visibly when I made the decision but that doesn't stop me from reaffirming it right now.

Whatever wishy-washy feelings I had before are fading, it is good to see this again and gain my focus back. Hawthorne needs to live and I'll help how ever I can. The rest of the reaping and train boarding goes on but my mind is puzzling on what can I really do to help. Fingers snap in front of my face, jerking me from my thoughts. "What?"

Mr. Abernathy takes his hand away, his face is cross but he speaks, "I asked if that was your real rack in that little number or if you were stuffing, tomboy."

My automatic response is to refuse to answer him about it but he is our mentor now so, "That's me, but I usually bind my chest down."

"Well that stops at the Capitol," he says as he leans back in his seat. "Oh and this dressing like a boy, kiss that goodbye too."

Instantly I'm angry and almost ask why but then, "Will it help get sponsors?"

"Bingo, sweetheart, bingo. Rich people will sign on for curves."

Shit! Damn it more dresses. I sigh and try to think of this as a good thing, an awful thing for me but could still be good for my teen companion. I glance at the unusually quiet Seam boy. "Can sponsors' money be transferred from a district's tribute to the other tribute?"

Our mentor sits up, his brow coming together with the question. "Yes, if the mentors are on good terms it is generally what happens once the district's lost one."

Lost one… I breathe deep, now is as good a time as any. "But what if I want all the money I get to go to Hawthorne as it comes?"

"Mellark?" "What?" They each shout. Seam gray glare in stereo. Wow.

But I turn to Hawthorne, I know from arguments before that he does not take to being ignored when angered. I try to make my voice soft. "You can win this, you've got skills and you have reasons to. I want to help you."

"Mellark have you lost it? What the hell is going on in that fluff you call a brain?"

Bye-bye softness! Anger flushes me. "Well jackass, I was thinking about Rory and your family, about Katniss and Prim, about how the district is better from your trade, about how much better it would be with parcel day every month and how it'd be great for 12 if you came back."

He just looks pissed for some reason. "So that means you're just going to give up like some pussy? Like some yellow bellied bitch?"

I HATE when he calls me Bitch and he knows it. Any other name or being called it from another person and I usually won't care but it enrages me when HE does it. I want to break his face but instead I dig my fingers into the couch to hold back, the ripping sound means I don't have long. "No, Asshole, I'm going to fight, do everything and anything to keep your awful self alive!"

He scowls, but he knows I'm dead serious. "Shouldn't you want to get back to your own family and your girlfriend?"

This rational question calms me some. "Of course I'd like to go back home, but not at the cost of you. Anyway you should be the one to go back. Your family needs you, mine doesn't. Madge and I are just friends, neither of us wants a girl like that. I think she'll be okay if she has Katniss. In fact I was hoping you would be her friend too once you get back."

He still looks thrown by this. "Why should it matter that it's me and my family?"

I blink at him. "Hawthorne you can hunt, probably can survive in the woods, you fight barehanded, against lots of guys at once, you're pretty strong, can set snares, Prim says you're good at strategy, you can use a bow and arrow and you could probably be as charming as Finnick Odair if you tried. You have a good chance at being victor, why would I take that from you?"

Now he looks so uncomfortable. Shit. What to say? "Catp- er Katniss, Prim and Madge too, in a way, are counting on you. All their lives will be better if you go back. I mean I've already talked to Mayor Undersee, he promised to give your family extra grain and oil for free. That should free Katniss from some of the responsibility, so she won't be so busy trying to save both your families and she'll have time for Madge. Thus Madge won't be alone; she can't be allowed to suffer quietly and alone. I already told Katniss not to take out more tesserae before the games are over, so if we get you back to 12 both of you will still hopefully be there next year and the year after for Madge."

He slumps against the wall, just staring at me. He is really looking at me in a way he has never done before and it makes me nervous, causes my stomach to be fluttery. Then he starts scowling, really scowling; so hard it makes me want to back up. I don't of course and hold my ground. "No. That can't be it. You're lying or trying to trick me, and I've heard you're an excellent faker."

I frown; yeah that little factoid has been floating around school for 4 years. Can I help it if some teachers were nasty enough to deserve a little pay back? "Well maybe I am a good liar and pretender but I'm not trying to trick you! I'm not lying to you. This is serious, I'm serious."

He shakes his head, "No. I know there is something…"

"Well, I'm not trying to trick you! I want you to be victor. I want to help you be victor."

"Then you're lying about something, I just know it." And he seems like he really believes it, that I'm lying about this.

Suddenly I think I understand what he means. It's not really a lie but more a reason and I don't want to tell him. I don't want him to know what my Madge, father, brothers and strangely enough Prim know. They know about me making up my mind at 12 years old, to never kill if I got pulled into the games. They know I refused to change myself so, to become a Capitol puppet like that. They know I would rather die than change me and I know to my core that murdering someone would change me. I decided at my first reaping I would live my own life even if it meant my death. I should tell him though, to get him to trust me in the arena, to let me help him. So I make a pointed look to Trinket and Mr. Abernathy then say, "I'll tell you later."

The hunter relaxes a bit, "I'll hold you to that." He pauses, "But that doesn't mean I'll let anyone die for me."

What is this ass talking about? Shouldn't he be happy I'm not planning to kill him myself? Shouldn't he be more agreeable to having someone help him? I so don't understand him. I suddenly get the feeling helping him will be like helping Catpiss for the most part. A groan needs to be suppressed thanks to that. "Can we decide that later? Right now I still want my question answered."

His sharp gray eyes are flickering between us, whatever he is thinking he doesn't tell us just replies, "Technically there is no rule against it, I could swing it." Gray meet gray, "You have anything to add to her list, boy?"

"Gale, not boy," is all he answers.

The older man waves a hand dismissively, "So what about you? What can you do, sweetheart?"

That stupid 'sweetheart' is beginning to bug me but finally this conversation going in the direction I want so I smile. "I haven't measured recently but a hundred pound sack of flour plus a thirty pound bag of sugar aren't a problem for me. I'm good at brawling, wrestling, and sports too. I can bake, cook, skin a animal and a friend taught me to clean and stitch a wound, Mr. Abernathy."

He winces then his eyebrows come together again. "Haymitch, not Mr. Abernathy. And it's not good to false advertise to me, kiddo." He runs his gaze over my girlish frame. "How strong are you really?"

Damn it, yet again it would have been better to be a guy and broad like my brothers. I get up and turn to the hunter, "I think this love seat is around 130, do you mind?" He smirks at Mr. Haymitch then stands up and retreats two steps. I bend, shove my hands under the base and lift it straight over my head. "Nope, more like 110."

Trinket gasps then works her mouth like a landed fish. Our mentor's eyes are very large. I just smile my sunniest smile.

"Yeah, her and her whole family are freakishly strong." I hear from behind me. It's a backhanded complement but it still sends shivers of delight down my spine.

Part 5 End.

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Side Note: First of all thank you to those that took the time to review but please reframe from doing it again. Secondly to everyone that wanted to review but restrained themselves big, heart-felt thank you to you! Third: if you aren't in either category then please please please do not review! I don't handle reviews well. Yes I'm weird like that but please respect my difference and don't review. Thank you for reading my story, you honor me that way and it's enough. I'm glad if you like it but I'm also glad if you don't like it (it means you prefer different possibilities and possibilities are always a good thing). Yet I'm begging you all not to share your opinions with me. Reviews throw me off and throw my writing off so please no reviews.

Thank you for reading this. -DarkGiggle