Requested by TeamToast: THIS WAS AMAZING! Can you hv another chapter of katniss meeting haymitch before the games but her father is like dead. Ik asking too much but

So this prompt got out of hand and sad, and makes Haymitch feel even more alone. My poor baby.

Goodbye, Old Friends

(35 years old)

The loud explosion blasted through the district that even Haymitch sequestered in Victor's Village heard it. He thought it was something from his dream, a nightmare, but his dreams had never featured any sort of explosion before. It was always his family haunting him and calling out to him to save them. It was always the tributes that he killed in the arena and the tributes that he let die coming to him for blood. Never an explosion.

It jolted him awake on that cold, windy afternoon. The sound of that explosion was terrifyingly familiar, like something he once heard from his childhood followed by horror stories of charred, mangled bodies and injuries that left people crippled. Haymitch shuffled to the window, wrapping the blanket around his torso and peered into the distance.

Thick, black smoke rose from the coal mine. His suspicion was correct.

Even with the haze of alcohol clouding his mind, Haymitch was aware of two things; there were people working in those mines and among those people were Aspen Everdeen and Toby Hawthorne. The second realisation chilled him to the bones.

Haymitch dropped his blanket and stumbled around the living room, grabbing discarded pants and shirt. He emerged from his house, joining the people rushing towards the mines.

By the time he arrived, there was already a crowd outside. He heard the howl of terrified family members and witnessed the horror as the crowds tried to push past the area that been cordoned off by Peacekeepers trying to get to the mines. Family members collapsed against each other some wailing and crying, others in stunned, terrified silence as they waited for news.

He staggered through the crowd until he saw someone familiar.

"Nolan," he called out, grabbing the Mayor's shoulder to turn him around. "Explosion?"

Nolan Undersee seemed surprised to see him but it passed. "Yes," he nodded gravely, looking around at his people. "We're… We can't send help down into the mines, Mitch," he admitted the truth quietly, his tone full of despair. "It's dangerous to risk any more lives. The tunnels – "

"Any survivors yet?"

"No one's come up yet. It's been five minutes since the explosion I'm sure -"

"Aspen and Toby… Are they in there?" Haymitch demanded. "Are they in there?"

"I checked the roster. It's their shift. They're in there, both of them."

"Fuck," Haymitch ran a hand through his knotted hair. "Fuck."

"You need to help where you can. Help them," Nolan waved his hand at the crowd. "I need to have a word with the Supervisor."

"Call the Capitol. Ask them for help – manpower for rescue, medicine, anything. You ask them, Nolan," Haymitch gritted his teeth. We mined for them was left unspoken but it was understood.

Nolan gave a curt nod and went off, trying his best to get things under control. Haymitch was left on his own, looking around him, out of place and lost. He had no idea how to help. He had no idea how to offer comfort.

Greasy Sae limped towards him with multiple thermos of coffee with a young boy by her side. When she saw Haymitch, she nudged the boy forward and gave him a grim smile.

"Take these," she shoved two flasks and several paper cups to Haymitch, "make sure it gets around. This is Mellark's boy. You and him, go around and do somethin'."

"I don't think coffee helps," Haymitch muttered but he accepted those things, adjusting his grip on them.

"Maybe not but even the smallest things… Boy," she addressed the young boy, "you stick close to him if you want to help."

With that, she went off, pouring coffee to wives and mothers, and those waiting for loved ones.

"Sir," the boy spoke. He had blue eyes and blonde hair, and every bit a Mellark as Haymitch remember. "Mum said we should feed them but they are not for free, and Greasy Sae said she can't get these."

Haymitch glanced down at the basket of breads the boy was struggling to carry. It was probably half of the boy's weight. Of course, Haymitch thought, Eva Mellark wouldn't be giving anything for free, not even when tragedy fell swiftly upon the district. Her husband probably, but not her.

He grabbed whatever coin he could find in his pocket and dropped it into the boy's pocket. "For Mace's basket, too," Haymitch nodded at the older Mellark boy walking among the crowd. "You heard Sae. Walk with me."

"Alright," the boy nodded, falling in step.

Strangely, it didn't feel terribly awkward with the boy next to him. He was good with people and while Haymitch was quiet in pouring coffee, the boy offered words of comfort. He had a rule about not interacting with children in the district which made it all the more pathetic that he needed the boy to help the people in the district.

Pathetic and useless, he thought bitterly, as he pressed hot cup of coffees into cold, shaking and terrified hands.

"My name's Peeta," the boy said out of the blue.

"Yeah, didn't ask for it," Haymitch muttered.

Peeta bit his tongue but he looked up at Haymitch curiously. He should feel awful but he just didn't want to remember this boy's name.

"Here, m'am, have something to eat, please. Mister Abernathy's got coffee, too. It's cold out here and a hot cup of coffee would keep the cold away for a little while as you wait. Please have something. It isn't much but I'm very sorry about what's happened. It's really awful," the boy comforted an old lady. "If you need anything, I will try to help."

Haymitch blinked in surprise. The kid was something, saying things Haymitch could never say. When Peeta laid a comforting hand on the old woman's shoulder, she nodded in thanks and accepted the coffee, holding on to the boy's hand in a tight grip, desperate for comfort.

"My son… My son is in there."

"I'm sorry," Peeta said again.

He couldn't stand to witness any of it anymore so he walked away. It wasn't long before he heard Peeta's footsteps hurrying after him only to collide into him when Haymitch stopped abruptly.

Iris Everdeen stood, hunched with exhaustion holding on to her youngest girl. Haymitch couldn't remember the oldest girl's name but she was there, staring at the mines in distressed with tears streaming silently down her face.

She started and stood straighter at the grinding sound of rusted metals. There was a collective movement as everyone stood up, searching curiously for the sound. Everyone watched as a single elevator rose from the deep belly of the mine, spilling workers onto the surface. The miners were covered in coal dust and ash, their faces encrusted with soot and smeared by blood, and blackened sweat on their bodies.

Haymitch heard raspy voices calling for help and disjointed words as some of the survivors tried to recount what had happened through ragged breathing. He caught words like 'methane gas', 'dust explosion' and 'falling rocks'.

They confirmed that there was still many others trapped underground trying to claw their way out.

"Dad's still inside," a tiny voice shrieked. "Mum! He's still down there. We got to help him!"

"We can't, Katniss. We can't do anything."

Haymitch pressed the heels of his palm against his eyes. That's Aspen's family. That's Aspen's family, he kept repeating in his head over and over.

"Sir? Mr. Abernathy?"

"I can't – I got to… Here, you can do it, yeah?" he dropped the thermos into Peeta's basket.

Backing away from the crowd, away from Iris and Katniss and her little sister, he stood at the fringe. He wanted to go back to his hole and shut it all out. There was nothing for him to do here, no help that he could offer and no words to soothe the pain but he remained frozen, watching his district in pain.

The district remained waiting as one, tensed and anxious, holding their breaths and rising to their feet together when the next elevator emerged from the tunnel, carrying with it more miners. There were cries of relief for those whose family members made it out. Faces crumpled when it wasn't their husband, wives, brother, daughter or father in that elevator and they resumed the wait, hoping, hoping, hoping.

The sky had grown dark, pitch black, masking the smokes from the explosion. As the hours passed, hopes began to dwindle.

Haymitch heard the footsteps of someone approaching. He felt the presence and slight bump of hand against his side.

"He's dead. He's dead, Mitchie, I can feel it."

The use of his childhood named felt a like a stab in his heart especially since he was here, standing for hours waiting for news of people who had at one point made his childhood bearable, easier, happier.

There was no need for him to turn his head for him to know who was speaking. Even after years had passed, even after he had moved out from the Seam, he still recognised the voice.

"We don't know that," he muttered. He tried but it sounded terrible to his ears because he didn't have much faith that they could still be alive.

"My husband is gone. I can always feel him. I can always feel Toby but all I feel is emptiness. What do I tell my children?"

That was when he glanced over at Hazelle. She looked helpless and lost, nothing like the girl who used to laugh at him singing or the girl who threw mud in his face, who sat with him in prison and gave her share of her game to his starving brother.

He brought his arm around her shoulder, awkward and uncertain, and squeezed it lightly.

"You tell them the truth. You tell them Toby was good man and a good father."

There was a time when putting her arm around Aspen or Hazelle was second nature to him. So he tried to find the easiness in him just this once, to offer something and tried not to think of the fact that she might not want his comfort after he pushed them all away. So when she buried her face in his chest and cried, Haymitch kept his arm around her. He kept his head up, searching the crowds for Aspen and Toby, feeling Hazelle's tears stained his shirt. From where he was, he watched Iris and her daughters, too.

When all hope was lost, his eyes followed Iris as she carried her youngest child in her arms to head home. She had to pass by him and she did, her eyes flickering to Hazelle in his embrace. For the first time in nineteen years, Haymitch reached out, fingers curling around her wrist lightly.

"It takes this for you come out and seek my husband?" the corner of her eyes wrinkled.

"I'm sorry," he said over the tragedy, never over pushing Aspen away. He did it for his friend. That had been the right thing to do.

It took Iris awhile but knowing there was nothing to else to say, she nodded. Her eyes already looked empty and dead.

"My daughter wouldn't leave. I don't know how to make her –"

"I'll stay," he found himself saying. He released both women so they could walk home together, quiet in their grief.

That girl, she would be about eleven Haymitch concluded after some quick calculation, stayed at the mining site until dawn broke and the sun rose. She stayed until the elevator stopped creaking and stopped bringing back any more survivors. Haymitch didn't approach her, just kept an eye out for her out of view.

He was there to witness the girl broke down, crying and sobbing once she realised her father was lost underground. He was there to witness her calling out for her father and when she had no more energy left, he watched Nolan take her hand to walk her home, leaving him as the last person left on the mining site.

He felt for the flask in his pocket and uncapped it, bringing it to his mouth before he stopped. He hadn't had a drink for hours, the longest he went without a drink so far and there was nothing more he wanted than to drink himself into oblivion but it didn't feel right. Not on the day of Aspen's and Toby's death. They were his friend, Aspen was his good friend and that man was gone.

Somehow, he managed to get back home, stumbling through his house tiredly. The coal dust had settled over his skin and he smelt of smoke but bleary eyed, he went to the phone.

"Sweetheart," he rasped. "Want to hear something? My friends are dead."

There was only silence on the phone.

"You heard what I said? You ain't deaf, are you? Thought you always had somethin' to say… What's happened?"

"I – I'm sorry to hear that, Haymitch. I didn't know…. I didn't know you had any friends in the district. I was under the impression that you kept to yourself."

"Used to… I used to have and now they're fucking dead."

"What happened to them, Haymitch? Are you… drunk?"

"Wish I was. I think I should drink. I wanted to honour their memories," he chuckled. "I wanted to honour… I can't deal with this sober," he said with a note of finality and walked over to the grab a bottle of whiskey, stretching the cord as he did so.

He heard her small sigh as she waited for him to take the necessary mouthful. She would nag given the usual circumstances but this wasn't usual. He could count on his fingers the number of times he called her before and never once did he wanted to just talk because he felt too much and couldn't deal with it on his own.

"The coal mines exploded. Knew it was bound to happen. Word was, miners been complaining 'bout the state of the mines, asking for better equipment and all but nothin's been done. It exploded today, trapped a hell of a lot of people underground."

Effie gasped. These kinds of accident were hardly ever reported in the Capitol newspaper and even if it was, it would never be on the front page news which meant it was easily missed or glossed over. Haymitch wondered if Effie ever considered the possibility that working in the mines was dangerous and lethal; that so many things could go wrong under those tunnels.

"It's different, you know," he finished half the bottle.

"What is?"

"Knowing they're dead. I stopped talkin' to them – haven't properly spoken to any of them since I won the Games – but it's different knowin' they're alive somewhere with their own family. It's okay if we ain't talking no more but at least they were alive. Now they're dead and fuck," he cursed. "Fuck."

"Why did you stop talking to them?" Effie asked softly. "Did you have a disagreement?"

His laugh was bitter and broken. Sometimes he forgot that Effie Trinket could be naïve.

"Wanted to spare them, didn't I? I wanted to spare them, all of them – Hazelle, Toby, Aspen especially. They shouldn't remain friends with me. He'll kill them all, use them as leverage, so I ended it."

Effie was quiet before tentatively, she asked the question Haymitch usually avoided talking about. "Is this about your family?"

He chose not to answer that. It was about losing the last few people who had known him before the Games. It was about losing his good friend, his oldest friend, who had been like family to him. It was like losing Lief all over again. It wasn't about his family and yet, it felt like it.

He was starting to wonder if it had been wrong of him to pretend Aspen didn't exist to save his life.

Haymitch slid to the floor, back against the wall with the phone receiver pressed close to his ears as he listened to the sound of her breathing. Breathing was good; breathing meant that she was alive. Breathing… Aspen and Toby had likely suffocated to their death if the initial blast hadn't ripped them and killed them. He imagined dirt in their nose and their lungs, struggling to inhale air only to choke. How long did it take for them to die?

"I want you here," he said, his words had begun to slur. "You'll know how to make me feel good 'cause sweetheart, I feel fucking terrible right now. You've always been a good fuck – you'd be a good distraction tonight."

Haymitch heard her sharp intake of breath but she was quick as well, giving him as good as she got. "I can't say you're good all the time."

"You ever lost someone, Trinket?"

"Yes."

"Fucking hurts, yeah? Who died? Your cat or something? You want to swap stories?" he chuckled. He sounded deranged, not drunk but mad. He didn't know why he was saying all these to her. Maybe he meant to hurt her, the same way he was feeling right now. He had slipped earlier, showed her a glimpse of vulnerability and he wanted to wrestle back control. "Whose life's more tragic, you know? I bet I'll win."

"This is not a competition, Haymitch. It never was. You are upset and hurting. I want to be your friend and be there for you but not when you are in this state. Not when you are insulting me just to get a reaction from me or just to make yourself feel better. I'm sorry for your loss but this isn't how you ask for comfort. Hang up right now, Haymitch," she told him. "Clean yourself up and try to sleep. I will call you again tomorrow morning - your time."

"You don't get to boss me 'round, sweetheart."

"Goodnight, Haymitch," she said with finality. "And I'm sorry… I'm truly sorry for what happened in Twelve."

"Yeah," he mumbled, tipping his bottle back. "Yeah."

i know he didn't really "meet" Katniss and Katniss didn't interact with him. He met Peeta instead ahaha. You see a lot more of the characters from Twelve here and when I wrote this it got slightly out of control bc I wanted to write Haymitch's reaction to the mine explosion that took the life of katniss' father, especially since in Between Lives, he was friends with Mr. Everdeen. I also hope you like that last part with Effie. Haymitch is too alone and lost, and the only one he thought of was Effie.

Sorry for the sad fic on New Year. Please let a review!