Thank you for reading my version of Haymitch's story and for all the reviews I've had so far. I really do take all comments on board so please keep them coming!

I do not own the Hunger Games nor its characters.

Chapter Twenty One

I've never got the obsession with babies; they cry, they poo, they sleep and that's about it. When Layle was born I just found him frustrating for the first year and then that older brotherly love finally kicked in and all I wanted to do was protect him, especially from the mess that was our father.

Chester is one of the most placid babies I've ever encountered, not that I've been around too many of them, but every time I hold him he seems content enough to stay in my arms and sleep. When he wakes up he always does a big yawn and only starts crying when he's hungry and that quickly stops as soon as you put a bottle in his mouth. If only adults were that simple.

I have a lot to thank this little boy for, if it wasn't for him I wouldn't be visiting Drake and Herma for the third time in a fortnight, which is three times more than I've visited them over the past six years.

"He loves his blanket," says Herma, sitting down with a cup of tea.

"Herma, he can't speak, how could you possibly know that?" I say.

"Because he won't sleep without it! Honestly, he'll just scream the place down until it's in his cot with him."

I give Chester a little smile, not believing his mother's words for one minute, although I would like them to be true.

"I think he's quite attached to his Uncle Haymitch," says Drake.

I'm not his uncle, I could have been but I'm not. I should correct Drake but I'm so eager not to lose this family again that I let it slide. Besides, I secretly like the title, not that I'm going to let anyone know that.

"I think you'd make a great Dad," says Herma.

I can't help but laugh; she can't be serious! "I don't think so! You can't hand them over to someone else when they're yours!" They both laugh, holding each other's hands. "Anyway, I couldn't have kids with the way things are, you know, when you've got to do what I do…"

They both nod, the smiles from their faces now fading. They must know that the closest thing I'll ever have to a child is lying right here in my arms and I've no intention of changing that. I don't know how anyone could have a child when there's a chance that they could lose them. Of course, I don't say this. Chester is a gift.

That's when it hits me. I can't get close to him. I can't allow myself to be his uncle when he could be reaped one day and I'll have the responsibility of keeping him alive. He's looking up at me like I'm the most important thing in the world right now and I don't think I can face that look every day. It will break my heart when it turns to a look of panic and disgust.

"I'm sorry, this is a bad idea," I say and hand Chester back to his mother. "Good luck with everything. You deserve it."

I leave the house but Drake is running after me, shouting my name. I keep walking, hoping he'll just go home and forget about me but he soon catches up.

"Haymitch! What the hell was that about?!"

"I can't get close to him, Drake! I want to but…you wouldn't get it!" I scowl as I turn to leave, again, but Drake grabs my arm and pulls me around.

"I know what's going on in that head of yours, Haymitch, and it's bull! Chester is going to be fine."

"I thought that and then I ended up losing everything! You can't pretend it's not a possibility!"

"Fine, then, go! Ruin your chance of some happiness!"

He leaves and heads back towards his house, I wouldn't be surprised if the whole of the Seam could hear him stomping away. I desperately want to chase after him and tell him that I made a mistake, of course I want to be part of Chester's life, it's the only thing I want right now. But I know the best thing I can do is cut myself off before I get too close; I can't imagine seeing him grow up, buying him birthday presents, maybe even teaching him a few things only for the worst thing possible to happen to him.

I realise that I'm standing in the middle of the street with people peering out of their windows at me so I start walking to the only place I can think of. I don't want to go home, yet, all I'll do is drink and, for once, I'm not in the mood. I walk through Town and beyond the Justice Building until I reach a gated field where we bury our dead.

There's a special area that has been sectioned off for those who lost their lives to the Hunger Games and the memorial I organised for Titam stands at the top, above his grave.

It's a marble statue of Titam himself with an inscription at the bottom which reads 'Titam Noss, The first victor of District Twelve and lifelong mentor.' I had no idea what would be suitable and seeing as he had no family there was no one else to ask.

"I need you, Titam," I whisper and the tears just start pouring. I don't know when the last time I cried was, I usually just down a bottle of liquor before I get to that stage but no one is around and it feels good to just let it out.

I just want one conversation with him, he was the only one who understood the hardships of this life. He understood the nightmares and the hope that comes with every new tribute. The hope that they could be a fighter. He also understood the pain that came when it was clear that they had no chance of winning.

"Mr. Abernathy, are you okay?" A sweet voice says behind me and all I want them to do is go away. I don't want to be seen like this.

I wipe away the tears from eyes and turn around to see that Vieve is standing before me, wearing a pale blue dress that highlights her slim figure. I'm both shocked and relieved to see her.

"Hi, Vieve. I'm fine, it's just been a tough day." She nods. "What are you doing here? If you don't mind me asking."

"My cousin died in the Hunger Games eight years ago, it would have been her birthday today. I was just laying some flowers on her grave."

I rack my brain to see if I can remember who the girl tribute was eight years ago but nothing comes to me, I think the relief that Tilly was safe for another year blanked out anything else.

"I'm sorry," is all I can say. "Are you heading back to Town?"

"Yes, are you?"

"I am now."

We slowly walk through the cemetery and I find myself telling her all about my encounter with Drake and not once does she look like she wants me to shut up, even though if I were her and I would definitely tell me to shut up. She listens to every word and tells me that she would never claim to know what I've gone through but she thinks she understands. After her cousin died she didn't want anything to do with anyone, she's still not even sure if she wants to get married and have kids knowing what can happen to them.

"I'm sorry if I've bored you with my pathetic troubles," I say as we reach her mother's shop.

"Don't be sorry, I know how hard it can be to talk to someone, sometimes."

"Well, let me make it up to you. Have you got any plans for tonight?" She shakes her head. "Then let me cook for you, eight o'clock at my house, okay?" She opens her mouth to object but I hedge my bets and kiss her on the cheek before running home. If I don't give her the chance to say no then she has to come. I hope.

As soon as I get home I start peeling and chopping the vegetables that I've just bought from Town. I'm going to make one of the few things that I can actually cook, which is a chicken casserole recipe that I got from the Capitol last year. Of course, it won't be half as good because we don't get the same ingredients here but, hopefully, it will do.

Before I know it eight o'clock has arrived and I'm showered, shaved and dressed in the cleanest clothes I could find. As I'm setting up the table I realise that she might not actually come, after all, who would want to spend the evening with District Twelve's biggest joke?

Thankfully, there's a knock on the door and all my stresses disappear as I open the door to find Vieve standing on the door step looking beautiful in a red blouse and black skirt.

"Hi," she says. "I didn't know if I should bring wine or something but you ran off before…"

"No, this is meant to be a thank you from me. Come in."

I lead her in to the dining room and it's clear from her face that she can't get over the size of the house. Even people from Town can be impressed, I suppose.

"Shit, you're not vegetarian, are you?" I blurt out, suddenly realising that I have nothing else to serve her.

She's giggling as she sits down at the table. "No. You can't be vegetarian in a place where you have to get anything you can."

"Very true," I say, wondering if she's ever actually struggled for food. Maybe. I think I'm technically the only rich one in 12 by Capitol standards.

I take the casserole out of the oven and place it on the table and, even if I do say so myself, it smells incredible. I've made some roast potatoes to go with it so this is probably the first decent meal I've had in months.

We both tuck in and Vieve praises me on my culinary skills, surprised that I had any at all.

"So has the shop always been in your family?" I ask.

"Yes, it's as old as Panem as far as I know."

"And do you like working there?"

"Yes, I know it sounds frivolous but I love clothes. When I see some of the things that those Capitol people wear, it makes me gag! I know I could make something far better!"

"Sometimes thinking of frivolous things is the only way to get through the day and, yes, they're pretty awful."

I ask about her cousin and she tells that her name was Robin and she was killed by a Career three days in. I vaguely remember the Games, it was an arena with very little vegetation so it was difficult to hide and it all ended pretty quickly. I don't think it was one of the most popular Games among the Capitolites.

"Sorry, I'm sure you don't want to talk about this."

"It's okay, it's nice to talk about her. My family don't even mention her, now."

We spend the rest of the evening talking about life in 12 and how we never knew each other in school, despite being in the same age group. Apparently, I was too busy hanging around with Tilly and the Seam kids so our paths just never crossed. I know that kids from the Seam and from Town should mix more but when every day is spent trying not to starve to death it's easy to see why so many of us resent those from Town. If there's one thing that being a victor teaches you it's that everyone's got problems, no matter where they're from.

I offer to walk Vieve home, although I don't know why because it's not very far to her house. I'm just not ready to say goodbye, yet, I suppose.

"Thank you for a lovely evening," she says, "Maybe we can do it again, sometime?"

"Really?"

"No, I'm lying, I'd hate to see you again."

She manages to get a small chuckle out of me, I thought I was meant to be the sarcastic one. "Yeah, me too, it would be horrible."

She leans in and kisses my cheek but she lingers there a little longer than you'd expect. Does she want me to kiss her? I haven't been in this position for so long I don't know what I'm supposed to do anymore.

"Bye, Haymitch," she says and flashes me a smile before she leaves. I'm officially in hell.