Disclaimer: I don't have any claim to the characters, locations, etc. in this story, they all belong to the lovely Suzanne Collins, who decided to hurl a brick directly at my heart by writing Sunrise on the Reaping and making me feel things.

Summary: Haymitch has a nightmare on the first Reaping Day since his return to 12 after the war, so soon that Peeta hasn't even come back yet. Katniss hears him scream and goes to his house to help him, thinking he's being attacked. When she finds out he's safe, she stays with him anyway. Language warning. One-Shot.

A/N: I'm back again, only a few hours after the last HG fanfic I wrote, because I really desperately need to give Haymitch a hug. That poor man has been through entirely too much suffering, and I need someone to hold onto him while he cries. I love him so much.

….

Devoured by Shadows, We Cling to the Light

….

Katniss woke with a start, banging her head on the armrest of her couch, confused. She didn't remember having a nightmare, for once, or at least not one that would wake her up so violently. She was just about to lay her head back down and try to sleep when she heard what had woken her in the first place.

Haymitch was screaming. He was screaming so loudly that she could hear him from his house.

Katniss jumped up faster than she had since she was in the Games, grabbing her bow and quiver from beside the front door and sprinting barefoot across the yard. She banged into Haymitch's house, denting the wall where the doorknob had slammed, and ran as fast as she into the living room where she knew her mentor would be slumped in the general vicinity of the couch. She already had an arrow drawn and ready to shoot.

It took her a long moment to realize that there was nobody in the house except for Haymitch, who was on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest, his back against the couch. His face was buried in his arms. Katniss noticed the half empty bottle of white liquor in his hand.

She lowered her bow and put her arrow back in the quiver, setting both against the armchair in the corner. "Haymitch, what the fuck?" she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. "You scared the hell out of me, why were you screaming?" she noticed that her mentor's shoulders were shaking, and she dropped her arms, lowering herself to the floor next to him. "Nightmare?" she asked quietly. Haymitch nodded his head against his knees, keeping his face buried where she couldn't see it.

Katniss, clueless as ever about emotions, was perfectly fine with that. But she didn't want to leave him, not after all the times that Haymitch was there for her, so she leaned back against the couch and sat next to him in silence. After a few moments, unsure what exactly she should do to help him, she reached out a hand and gently patting him on the shoulder. She wasn't sure what else to do for him, and cursed herself because she wasn't more like Peeta. Always loving, always gentle, always knowing the right thing to say. She was about as emotionally available as a cheese grater, and she knew that Haymitch was the same way.

After a long moment of considering this, she wondered, in hindsight, if Haymitch would even want her here at all.

"Haymitch, I don't…" she started, stopped, and cursed herself again. "Do you even want me to be here? I came because I thought you were being attacked, but if this is a private moment I can…"

"Stay." Haymitch whispered from under his arms. Katniss spent a long moment worrying about what exactly she would even do here, and then settled for rubbing her mentor's back gently while he cried.

She wished Peeta was here. Not because she didn't want to help Haymitch, or because she didn't care enough about him to try, but because he was so much better at this than her. He would instinctively know how to help their friend, and Katniss just… didn't.

She heard Haymitch sniff from the confines of his arms and she felt a wave of grief for her mentor. She had never heard the stories of what had happened to him, didn't know anything more than what Haymitch had mentioned in passing: that Snow had killed his whole family because he had used the arena forcefield to win. She didn't know any details, and she wasn't sure she wanted to know. She had so much grief inside of her already, could she handle Haymitch's on top of that?

Then again, Haymitch knew all of her shit. He had been there when she went into the Games both times, had held her when she thought she had lost Gale and Peeta during the Capitol rescue, had calmed her when she had woken up, just two days ago, screaming after a dream about Prim's death. He already had to deal with his trauma and hers, didn't she owe it to him to at least try?

"I know you aren't exactly the talking type… I mean, you and I are cut from the same cloth, you'd have to pry my feelings out of my cold, dead hands, but… If you need to talk about whatever this is, I'll listen to you." Katniss stumbled over her words, clenching the fist that wasn't on Haymitch's back out of sheer embarrassment. How would she feel if someone said that to her? Every time she had been freaking out and screaming and crying, Peeta or Haymitch or Prim or Gale or whoever else would hold onto her and be there for her in a way that she wasn't sure she was capable of. And now here she was, the only person available to help her friend through whatever he was going through, and she went off on a tangent about how she was emotionally unavailable?

Katniss was just about to apologize for being absolutely shit at comforting people when Haymitch finally lifted his head up from his arms, swiping a hand under his nose.

"I'm sorry, Haymitch, I really am shit at this whole 'emotions' thing. I wish Peeta were here."

Haymitch smirked, wiping the tears off his cheeks. "You really are shit at this, sweetheart." He laughed a little, leaning back against the couch. He took her hand in his. "I appreciate the effort, anyway, Katniss. I'm alright."

"You didn't seem alright when I came in, or when you asked me to stay with you and I could hear the cries you were choking back. Look, if you want me to leave so you can cry in peace, by all means let me know, because I'm not good at this and I don't know how to help you. But if you want me to stay I will."

"You don't have to stay with me." Haymitch tipped his head back against the seat of the couch, looking up at the ceiling. He didn't let go of Katniss's hand.

"I don't have to do anything, Haymitch. I'm offering to stay with you. If you want me to." Katniss squeezed the hand that was folded into her own.

Haymitch sighed, letting another tear fall from his eye before he wiped it away, frustration on his face. "I'm sorry I woke you up. I didn't ever want you to see me like this."

"Why not?" Katniss had a feeling she knew, because her and Haymitch were, as she'd said earlier, cut from the same cloth. But she wanted to hear him say it anyway, so she could tell him how very wrong he was. So she could tell him that it's not tough to act like you don't feel anything. They all have so much trauma, and they need to share it to ease the burden, if only a little bit. He didn't answer her for a long time.

"I didn't… you've had so much shit happen to you, Katniss. I didn't ever want to add to the pain you carry." Haymitch didn't move, didn't look at her, as he said this. Katniss squeezed his hand again.

"That's bullshit, Haymitch, and you know it. You've been there for me through both sets of Games and losing Peeta to the Capitol and losing Prim and…" Katniss trailed off, fighting tears at the thought of her little sister. Now was not the time. "I can spare some room in my heart for you. It's the least I can do."

"Why?" Haymitch asked, finally looking at her. "Why do you give a shit about what's happened to me? I'm not a necessary part of your life anymore, sweetheart, you can leave me here to drink myself to death."

"Are you seriously asking why I care about you? Has all the liquor gone to your head and made you stupid, Haymitch?" Katniss cursed herself, again, that she wasn't more like Peeta. She wasn't the coddling type.

"You don't have to pretend to care about me. You don't have to run over here when you hear me scream and pretend that you want to hear my long, sad tale about death and destruction."

"I'm not pretending, you idiot!" Katniss yelled. "You woke me up when you screamed, I didn't have this huge elaborate plan to trick you into thinking I care about you. What would be the point? What, exactly, am I tricking you into? What am I going to gain by pretending to care about you? I ran over here because my half-asleep brain was terrified that you were being killed, Haymitch. If I didn't care, why would I have come over here? Why would I have sat down by you and tried to help? I know I'm bad at this but I didn't realize I was so bad at it that you thought I didn't give a shit about you."

"Alright, alright!" Haymitch yelled, cutting her off mid-rant. "I'm sorry, for fuck's sake. I know you care about me, I just don't know why."

"You really aren't good at this whole 'love' thing, are you?" Katniss challenged. She pulled per hand out of his.

"I used to be." Haymitch sighed, leaning back against the couch again. "It's been so long since someone cared about me, sweetheart. I just don't know what to do about it."

"You talk to me, Haymitch. Tell me about your nightmare. Talk to me about whatever you need to talk about. If you haven't had a friend since your Games, I'm sure you have a lot that you need to get off your chest."

"It's not your concern, Katniss."

"Are we really going to do this again?" Katniss squinted at her mentor, daring him to challenge her again. She wasn't above slapping the nonsense out of him.

"No, no, I'm sorry. I just don't know how to…"

"Neither do I. We can learn together, yeah?" Katniss curled up and leaned against Haymitch, resting her head against his shoulder. "You're not just my former mentor, Haymitch, you're my friend. I've never been good at the whole 'friend' thing, but I'd like to learn, if you'll let me."

Haymitch gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "It's a long story, sweetheart."

"I have time." Katniss answered. She grabbed Haymitch's free hand, squeezing it. She wasn't good at this, but damn it, she was going to learn. She wasn't the only one with trauma, and someone needed to be there for Haymitch and, eventually, Peeta when they needed someone. She needed to learn to stop being scared, and so did Haymitch. "Snow can't hurt you anymore, Haymitch." She whispered. She felt her mentor kiss the top of her head, felt tears drip into her hair.

And he told her everything. Haymitch told Katniss about his illegal reaping, about the deaths he say, and caused, in the Games. How Snow had his mother and brother burned alive in their house, and how he had always blamed himself because he hadn't filled the cistern on the day he was reaped. He told her all about his love, Lenore Dove, and how he had been holding her when she ate the poisoned gumdrops that killed her. How it was all his fault, because he had fucked with the arena and incurred Snow's wrath. How he had always known that he could never allow himself to be close to anyone ever again, how he could never love anyone, in any way, ever again, or Snow would kill them. He was crying again when he was finished, and Katniss felt the tears hitting her scalp.

For the umpteenth time tonight, she wished Peeta were here. He would know exactly what to say to make their mentor feel better. But Peeta was still in the Capitol recovering from his hijacking, and there was no one else in the world besides the two of them that gave a shit about Haymitch. She was all that he had.

"I'm so sorry, Haymitch." She whispered. She fought everything inside her that was urging her to flee the scene, lest she start crying too, and moved in closer to her mentor. She wrapped an arm around his stomach.

Haymitch's voice cracked around his tears. "So am I, sweetheart."

"If you ever need… I mean, I know I can come over here whenever I need to. The same goes for you. Any time you're sad or overwhelmed or… you don't need to drink yourself into a stupor every time you're depressed now. You can come over. We don't even have to talk. I'll make you a cup of tea and sit with you in front of the fire." Katniss cringed at her lousy attempt at comforting her friend. "Sorry, I'm really not good at this. I always had to be the strong one, and I haven't figured out how to turn it off yet."

"I know, Katniss." Haymitch pressed another kiss into her hair. "You're trying, and that's more than I ever would have asked of you."

"You're my friend." Katniss whispered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I know we've had our problems, but I… well, I love you, Haymitch. I'm going to try my best to be a good friend to you. I don't have many left."

Haymitch chuckled, sending another tear into Katniss's hair. "I love you too, sweetheart."

They sat like that on the floor until the sun rose in the morning. Another Reaping Day was upon them, except, this time, there would be no children led to their slaughter. They had won. The sun didn't rise on another reaping. Haymitch could never thank Katniss enough for what she had done. He could finally be at peace with Lenore Dove's ghost, knowing that no more children would have to die to satisfy the Capitol's bloodlust.

"Haymitch?" Katniss whispered. She wasn't sure if her mentor had finally fallen asleep. Hopefully the first peaceful sleep he'd had in a long time.

"Yeah?" Haymitch answered quietly.

"Happy birthday."

….

A/N:*sobbing* I just love Haymitch so much! That poor, poor man. Sunrise on the Reaping has ripped my soul out of my body and put it through a woodchipper, and I need him to be held just ONCE! *cries myself to sleep*

The title is from the song Zenith by Ghost. I have to give credit where credit is due *continues sobbing*