Chapter Text
The nightmares continue as they have had for decades. It’s a rotating menagerie, as Trinket would say, of all the people he has failed showing their faces every morning, night, and evening.
Today its Lenore Dove’s dying face and his useless attempt to stop her from dying again in his arms that’s the start. His mind reminding him of the promise he got from her, the promise sweetheart finally fulfilled. Of course that wasn't the only painful memory his traitorous mind would remind him of, as Lenore Dove’s dying face slowly vanished, replaced with Maysilee trying and failing to get her last words out a right the gamemakers had cruelly taken from her when they had skewered her throat.
He had held her hand like he had for the past countless nights, looked in her blue eyes and felt all the remorse, all the hurt, all the pain as if it was still that day even though decades had passed.
Fortunately he woke up with a start then, his eyes still foggy and his head still hurting. Less than perfect hand eye coordination never stopped his morning ritual though, so when he finally realized that he woke up on reaping day he had already picked up a bottle and started drinking and had already finished half a bottle. Maysilee would be ashamed and rageful of his pathetic self control, Lenore Dove would just be sorrowed.
His conscience had the fucked up ability of assuming the voice of all the people he has failed. Today it sounded like Maysilee, reminding that this birthday he had promised the kids that he’d at least be presentable. Due to the numerous justifiable reasons he doesn't particularly like this day, but promises are promises so he reluctantly got into the shower. At Least the Capitol bastards made the shower so intuitive that he just needed to press a button to do everything in the grooming business for him.
After he got out of the shower he wore a semi presentable shirt and some recently ironed and well fitting trousers, courtesy of the help he hired. He would be happy if Cartwight just took his money and lived her life without bothering him, but alas she insisted on doing the household chores he ignored so well too.
The Geese suddenly had started squawking up a storm, and he knew he would be hearing from the boy soon. And ofcourse he heard the bell after a couple of seconds, he’s the only one with such a heavy gait. Obviously Peeta Mellark’s was no longer a boy, he’s a man of twenty two years now and when he opened the door he still had the kind smile plastered on his face, still had the overwhelming kindness that all of the horrors couldn't take from him.
“Happy Birthday Haymitch, how’s being forty six treating you” he asked without any malice on his face not knowing that every year he survives it reminds him of all the people he left behind because of his own mistakes.
“It'd been going as it was boy, until I saw your planning face. What are you scheming up” he replied with some snark, even though he knew that Peeta meant well.
“Oh nothing, unrelated to your birthday though, what’s your favourite ca-,” he stammered a little, “ Cupcake flavour I’d like to make you a batch. At a later date of course, not today obviously”
“Hate pineapple filling, tolerate strawberry though, and no elaborate frosting I dont want to see your artistic flair I already have seen your paintings” he might be a normal amount of drunk right now but he’s not stupid he knows Peeta’s not here for his Cupcake preferences
“I asked for cupcake recommendations not cupcake detractions. Anyway thanks for still telling me, also Katniss told me to remind you of our get together in the evening” he replied without missing a beat, there was the boy who spun all those high strung capitolites on his suave charisma and emotional chops. Of course he still could tell that the get-together was probably an ill thought of a party he had somehow forced Katniss to be a part of.
“All right tell sweetheart I’ll be presentable for this get together I still want to be no part off” he replied.
The kids are alright, but they try too hard and can't see he’s not worth all the attention they give indiscriminately to him. They have each other’s undying love to live for, he had his bottles and memories of ghosts that would never leave him.
Peeta still smiling, left his door getting the geese all riled up again and his head started hurting again. He still was holding that half finished bottle, but with his ears getting assaulted he had to get to some quiet place to finish it. So he leaves the Victor village and hobbled towards the meadow.
He regrets going into the meadow the moment he stepped on the grass. Atleast in his home he can drink without getting actively reminded of her, geese honking be damned. She's everywhere in the damned meadow and she’d definitely be mighty disappointed in the drunk he had become.
Laying on the grass, Ma and Sid show themselves. Shame and regret filled him up when their faces are blurred and their voices garbled. He’s forgetting them.The tributes he had failed, he tried hard to remember everything about them they deserve at least that, but the girls that haunt his mind the most, the ones who he remembers every little detail are Lenore Dove and Maysilee.
They were his biggest failures, everyone that died ‘cause of him might have Capitol’s insidious hands behind them, but those two died in his arms; his was the last face they saw, his was the last promise they made.
Drinking and immersion of all the sorrows more made the afternoon pass quickly. He of course finished the whole bottle, the pathetic weak man he was. Soon it was evening, and whatever his mental state was he had to be there for his boy, and his sweetheart.
Tolerance was a funny thing even though he had finished a whole bottle it had stopped having the same effect of making him forget the regrets he carried. Now he drank for drinking’s sake, his liver was resilient but he was more driven and one day hopefully his drinking would win.
When he had slowly trekked back to his house he was somewhat surprised when he saw his door was open and slightly ajar. He had been sure that he had closed it when he went out for his meadow excursion, maybe he had been mistaken about his alcohol tolerance. Maybe it was Delly doing some light cleaning even though he had told her multiple times not to bother with that.
He was even more surprised when he entered the house and saw a large banner with “Happy BIrthday Haymitch” written on it. Seems like the kids had somehow managed to surprise him with a party he knew already was coming. Katniss was there blowing up a balloon clearly surprised to see him back so early.
“Peeta he’s here early, get the cake quickly” she gasped, and the balloon fizzed away leaving a sputtering sound behind.
His earlier prediction was at least correct, he wasn’t just asking for cupcake predictions. As he was holding a simple but large pink strawberry cake.
“Hey Haymitch, I know you said no frosting and that strawberry was your favourite flavour so Katniss got these fresh strawberries from-” he was probably going to go on a tangent about baking, but his mind was far away from this place, it was in the Arena and he remembered the strawberry ice cream Mags had sent him all those years ago after Maysilee had died.
He tried to control the tears, but they still flowed without recourse. The kids looked taken aback but they quickly hugged him without judgement. He stood swaying there remembering the worst birthday he ever had, the day he started to lose everything.
But maybe life would be kinder to him now, maybe his loss had a purpose now, he saw two reasons in front of him one of them still hugging him and the other one who had set the cake down and had started singing.
Sweetheart didn’t like to sing just cause, but when she sang he could hear his old friend’s unmistakable twinge and unparalleled skill. Everything stopped and listened when she sang and he was no different. It was a simple song, with an ear wormy rhythm, something about a birthday and a zoo or something he couldn't discern. Too lost in the memories of a melodic voice he thought long lost.
The Boy looked deeply and completely enamoured. Ofcourse the whole of Panem had known his love of Katniss’s singing but to see such an affection in real life was different.
“Come on Haymitch cut the cake, Peeta also made some snacks and they’ll get cold” she said, snapping Peeta out of his trance and he quickly went into the kitchen to bring the snacks. When he returned with plates full of different things he started to cut the cake to the cheering of both of them.
He feeds both of them the cake, and they do the same for him. He sees the love Peeta has for Katniss overflowing from him everytime he looks at her, and he knows that someday sweetheart would inevitably become a Mother. Their love was so palpable, he also had had a love like that once and he knew that they would get to continue their lives together unlike him.
But when they’d have their little family he would give his soul to be a part of it. The grand uncle to his old best friend’s grandchildren, also Maysilee’s best friend’s too, her voice reminded him.
He made a decision at that moment, that he’d try to stay sober from now. He’d try to be a part of those children’s life and he’d like to live for something from now instead of dying for nothing.
After they finished the snacks, Peeta told him he’d come by tomorrow to play chess and for the first time he doesn't immediately refuse. They both smile at him when they are at the door and he finally has a reaping day Sunset he doesn't regret living through in decades.