Hello to all my new (and old) readers, it's lovely to see you! Thank you all so much for reading my story and the amazing feedback you guys have given me, it really spurs me on to keep writing. Apologies for taking longer to update but I hope you enjoy!

I do not own The Hunger Games nor its characters.

Chapter Fifty-Nine

We land in 13 two hours later and as I walk down the ramp with Plutarch and his small group that he's brought from the Capitol I can see a grey haired woman standing in front of a dozen armed men, waiting for us.

We're in a huge hangar with plenty of hovercrafts that make me instantly hate 13, they had all of this technology at their disposal and yet they never helped us. I try to push the thought out of my mind as I approach the woman with Plutarch but, I have to admit, it's difficult.

"Excellent work, Plutarch," says the woman, "But it's a shame about the boy."

"Yes," says Plutarch, slowly inching away from me. "But we will get him back. We need him."

"Quite," she says before turning to me and holding out her hand. "Mr. Abernathy, I'm President Alma Coin, it's a pleasure to meet you."

I limply shake her hand and groan in agreement, there's already something about her that I don't like.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news for you both," she continues, "After you rescued Katniss and the others from the arena the Capitol immediately began to bomb District Twelve."

"No!" I roar, causing her to flinch slightly. "What are you doing? What aid are you sending?" All I can see are the citizens of 12 frantically running for cover, hiding from the bombs that are being dropped on them. I think of Drake, Herma and Freya in their tiny house in the Seam, it can barely stand up in the wind let alone withstand a bomb attack.

And then there's Katniss and Peeta's families, where will they go? Clara and Prim probably have a better chance with their house but it's still only bricks and mortar. I can feel myself glowing hot with anger as I think of all the deaths that are happening right now.

Vieve.

Oh no, I think.

"We can't do anything as yet," says Coin, "We don't know the full extent of the damage and if it's even worth us helping. The chances of survival are very slim."

"How can you say that?! Those are innocent lives being lost!"

"Hey!" Shouts one of her guards, raising his gun to me. "You need to calm down."

"I need a drink and a hovercraft, that's what I need!"

"There is no alcohol available in Thirteen, Mr. Abernathy," says Coin. "And I think you'd do well to have some time by yourself." She nods towards the guard, "Boggs, please take him to one of the cells."

Before I can protest Boggs roughly shoves me towards the exit of the hangar and when I turn around to shout obscenities at Plutarch I'm greeted by the shaft of a gun prodding my back.

We get in to a lift and within a minute we've plunged down twenty floors and I'm deposited in a grey cell with only a bed and a toilet for company. So much for being a leader of the revolution.

I'm forced to stay in the cell for three days before anyone other than the guards delivering my food come to visit me. Without any booze I'm forced to relive every horror I've witnessed in the Games and with no weapon to fight them off I feel completely trapped. The last time I feared for my life this much was in the arena twenty-five years ago.

On the third day there's a knock on the door followed by Plutarch who informs me that only 800 people survived the bombings in Twelve and were rescued by Thirteen. Gale, Clara and Prim managed to get them all to safety and provide medical care until the hovercrafts arrived and have been praised for their efforts ever since. However, Peeta's family are nowhere to be seen. That poor boy, he always seems to lose the things he loves.

"Have you heard anything of Drake Arnold and his family?" I ask, "He was the brother of…"

"I know who he is, Haymitch," says Plutarch so that I don't have to continue. "And no, I haven't heard anything but I'll find out, although with only eight hundred-"

"I know, I know," I snap. "And Vieve?"

Plutarch sighs, "Again, I don't know."

"Seems like there isn't much you do know."

"I know that if you don't stop shouting and swearing all day they'll never let you out of here and you'll never see Snow's demise."

I don't speak for a moment, I've known Plutarch for a long time and he's never been this curt with me. I suppose I don't really know him at all, we've only had half conversations in secret corners of the Capitol and they were always about the rebellion. It's only now that I realise how little I know about this man.

"What about Katniss and the others?" I ask, calmly.

"They're still unconscious, I promise I'll come back when I know more. Until then, please try not to cause any trouble."

He knocks on the door and a guard opens it to let him walk away as I stare in to the empty space that he has just left. How did I become the prisoner in all of this? All of this because I pissed off Alma Coin. Never mind that I've been working most of my life to make sure this rebellion actually happens.

I pace the room for I don't know how long before I decide to get some sleep, although the idea of lying on a bed and closing my eyes without any booze or a knife sends a cold shiver all over me.

I don't know how long I sleep before I see Peeta, battered and bruised, lying in a cell. Blood starts dripping down his body and he's screaming at me, asking why I didn't save him. Telling me what an awful mentor I am and that Katniss is the only one I care about.

I wake up screaming and banging the grey walls, causing some of the plaster to come flying off. The guard outside bangs the door and tells me to keep the noise down but he only causes me to scream louder. How much longer can this go on for?

After I've had my lunch Plutarch returns, a grim expression on his face that makes my heart sink. This can't be good news.

"I'm afraid that Drake and his family are dead, Haymitch," says Plutarch. "I've checked the records twice and they're not here. No one has seen them, either."

I close my eyes and think about the last time I saw them all in the square, begging me to come over for dinner. Chester had been dead for four years but it was still easy to see the grief in their eyes. The last thing I said to them was that I think we should keep our distance, I never thought that would be the last time I'd see them at all.

Someone knocks the door and Plutarch crosses the room to open it, who on earth could this be? Am I not allowed to grieve by myself?

But when the door opens a forty year old strawberry blonde woman runs in to the room and almost knocks me over as she wraps her arms around me.

"I'll be back in an hour," says Plutarch and leaves the room.

I don't let go of her for at least ten minutes, I can't. I won't. That floral smell is still there and has the same calming effect on me that it always did.

I only pull away when I realise she's sobbing in to my shoulder.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"Not really," says Vieve. "I mean…I'm alive, so are the kids but Rufus is in the hospital with a head injury and Addison…he…he didn't make it."

She turns her head at the mention of her husband and all I can think to do is stroke her arm. I may never wanted her to marry him but he made her happy for sixteen years and gave her the children she wanted, I could only ever hate him for not being me. And now he's gone, leaving Vieve distraught and his children fatherless.

"What happened?" I ask.

"We were all running to the meadow and…and he fell behind, I think he must have slipped. We were all running so fast we didn't even look behind us. A bomb went off and…," she closes her eyes, "He was gone. The blast sent Rufus flying, if it wasn't for Mrs. Everdeen I doubt he would have made it until the hovercrafts came. I owe her everything."

I pull her close again, resting my head on top of hers. "He'll be okay, it's not like at home. They won't keep medicine from us." I don't have a clue if this is true but if it isn't I'd really have to question what it is we're doing here.

We spend the rest of the hour in silence as Vieve sobs in to my arms but I don't care. The idea that we can do this without fear of the consequences is a small miracle in itself. When the guard opens the door she kisses my cheek and tells me that she'll come back tomorrow.

When she does return it's with Plutarch who informs me that Finnick and Katniss are awake but neither of them are talking any sense, 13 have labelled them 'mentally disorientated' apparently. As for Beetee, he's awake and working away in the weapons lab.

"They're going to assign you a room soon," says Plutarch, "Providing you sign an agreement not to drink any alcohol and help with the war effort."

"Has he not been helping with the war effort for the past twenty five years?!" Snaps Vieve and I can't even attempt to stop the smile that forms across my face.

"I'll sign whatever I need to," I groan, although if I have the chance to get my hands on any alcohol I'm taking it.

After Plutarch leaves Vieve says that we've been given permission to visit the hospital and her son.

"I mean, you don't have to come if you don't want to, it's just…I'd really appreciate the company."

"Is Katniss there? We're not really on the best of terms right now," I say.

"She's on the other side of the hospital, Plutarch's given us the all clear."

I take her hand and ask her to lead the way, which involves a lot of lifts and grey corridors. This is the first time I've actually seen 13, everyone wears nondescript clothes and seem to march everywhere like soldiers. I get the sense that no one does anything around here unless they have a very specific reason to.

Eventually we reach the hospital wing and enter a small room when a dark haired teenage boy lies on a bed with tubes coming out of him at all angles. Sat next to him with deep bags under her eyes is a young girl with brown hair that verges on the shade of dark red. Her head snaps up as we enter the room and I quickly let got of her mother's hand.

"Melia," says Vieve, "This is Haymitch."

"Hi," she says and I nod in return.

This wasn't how I'd ever pictured meeting Vieve's children, not that I ever did, and the whole thing feels horribly awkward. I have no idea how much they know about their mother and I but I know that now is not the time to go in to it. They're still grieving for their father, they don't need their mother's past to contend with, too.

A doctor comes over and says that Rufus' condition is slowly getting better but he's taking a while to respond to treatment, which only makes Vieve well up and cause Melia to run over to her.

"I think I'd better go," I say. "This isn't my place."

"No, please stay," says Vieve but Melia is glaring in to the side of her mother's head.

"I'll come back," I lie. "I need to go and sign those papers."

As I'm leaving the hospital I spot Clara and as I turn to go in the other direction I can feel her hand grabbing on to my arm.

"Haymitch," she says. "It wasn't your fault, no one blames you."

"Katniss doesn't seem to think so," I say.

"Not right now, no. But she will." She pauses for a moment before speaking again. "Was that your ex-wife you were with?"

I grunt, this really isn't something I want to be discussing right now. "Yeah and I'd prefer it if you kept that to yourself. Katniss doesn't need another reason to hate me."

When she returns to her normal self, whatever that is, I know she's still going to be pining for Peeta. Knowing that I kept the love of my life a secret from her and seeing Vieve alive and well is only going to anger her, I know it.

Clara nods, "I understand. I'll talk to her when she's better, make her come to you."

I guffaw, "Good luck with that."

I walk away and find a nearby guard to ask him where Plutarch is, he gives me complicated directions but I manage to find them and come to a door labelled 'Command.' The guard outside is reluctant to let me in but when I start ranting and raving about helping Plutarch and 'important war effort meeting' he gives in and opens the door.

There I find Coin, Boggs, Plutarch, Fulvia and, to my surprise, Gale all leaning over a map.

"Six is in full scale revolt now so we need to send aid out to them," says Plutarch as I enter. "Ah, Haymitch, so nice to see you."

"I believe you are prepared to agree to our terms," says Coin as sharply as a razor blade.

"Yeah, whatever," I say and Boggs places a piece of paper and a pen down in front of me. I don't even read it, I'm not really agreeing to any of it, and sign the bottom.

Katniss hates me. Vieve's husband is dead. Drake and his family are dead. I'm going to stop this, I've seen too many children and loved ones die because of Snow and I'll be damned if I don't everything I can to see that bastard brought down.