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The years between his win of the second quarter quell and the widespread rebellion of the third was viewed behind the warped glass of drunken bottles. Despite it looking like everything was beginning to set into motion, too much was happening at too quick of a speed for Haymitch to keep up with. With their Mockingjay experiencing breakdown after breakdown as she tried to process the events between shooting the arena roof and waking up in district thirteen practically alone, the man had nothing to look forward to but another shining glass of golden tinted liquor. It all started feeling like that moment again. Of him, assembling the bomb to throw down the cliff of the arena, hoping to someone out there that this is what will change the world. And for a moment it did. For such a small moment there was a shift, like Haymitch could see the finish line before he even began the race. But that died the more bodies were laid to rest in the soil of his home, his family and friends so close yet six feet under. He played the Capitol’s games and he paid for it. He believed there was no hope.
Maybe if that happened another time he would have been successful. But time was what was wrong, watching it go by in nauseous swirls and before he knew it Burdock’s girl took his place against her will. Forced to be this symbol Haymitch was prepared for all those years ago. It just simply wasn’t his time.
___
There was a part of his life in district thirteen where he was sober. He hated it of course, something about rules that he simply didn’t care for but followed anyway. Haymitch mostly hated it because he could see things clearer, the exact stuff he tried to drown. This newfound clarity showed him the extent of Katniss’ trauma written clearly on her face and he despised seeing such an expression on his sweetheart. What also didn’t help was how his friends were back to haunting him in the shadows.
Haunted wasn't the word to describe it exactly. Just the following presence of six individuals. Louella, Maysilee, Wyatt, Lou Lou, Ampert and his sweetheart Lenore. Sometimes it felt like their ghosts were staring at the back of his head, glares or not. The feeling was this agonising burn that made him wish for a bottle. But then there were sweeter moments, a night where he attempted comforting Katniss who was hiding in the large pipes of the district. During these small times the stares didn't feel like glares and a feeling, a light touch, practically unnoticeable but with his new and constantly aware senses he picked up on hands, warm, a message of 'you're not alone' that if he didn't half believe he was going crazy he'd try and give those same words to the fear struck girl in front of him. The dark of the sewers didn't help his mind flicker Katniss' appearance to his dear sweet Louella. Those braids, he'd never get away from those braids.
Later on when someone came by with a torch, flashing it towards them and lighting up the sleeping girl tucked under Haymitch’s arms, the man shooed him away with a swipe of his hand and a scowl. Katniss had looked dead on her feet for so long she deserved any sleep she could get. Haymitch pulled the girl closer with a protectiveness he remembered having in the Capitol streets with Louella. The way he held her warm corpse close to his chest to make sure not a single person could take her away.
Not her, not this girl. I’ll never let you take her. He remembered thinking.
There was a bad taste in his mouth after that. The Capitol did take her away, replacing her with a body double that didn’t deserve the end she got. When he looked back and couldn’t tell the difference between the two, he simply closed his eyes tightly and willed himself to sleep with Katniss comfortable in his arms. The man’s heart cried softly when he felt the presence of his friends around him again.
When Haymitch finally fell asleep, it was the first time in a long while where he wasn’t plagued by his mistakes. Instead he dreamt of fields of gold, all his friends sat underneath a willow tree together.
___
Weeks pass by after that moment, neither bring it up but Haymitch gives the girl a genuine smile when he notices the tension in her shoulders lessened. They don’t end up seeing each other for a while and he doesn’t blame Katniss for spending most of her time trying to look after Peeta. But when they do eventually cross paths again, Haymitch is tracing his finger around a familiar token in his hand. He’s sitting in the canteen of the district with nothing to do but attempt the coin tricks he watched Wyatt do when the kid would ramble about probability theory. He doesn’t do a good job and each time the coin slips out of his grasp he feels his heart slam against his rib cage as if he’s lost it forever.
“Haymitch..” Katniss has such a quiet voice now, she’s tired and he wants her to rest but they both know she can’t. She sits down on the opposite side of the table.
“Sweetheart.” He gives a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes but the feeling is there. Another flick of the coin in his hand and it rolls over the table. Neither question the man's too quick a reflex to slam it into the table, making sure it doesn’t roll away.
Katniss quirks a small smile. “You like coin tricks?” She asks and rests her arms on the table with her posture slumping. Haymitch shakes his head and picks the scrip back up to hold it up and show. “Nah, I was never good at any of the sort...” he trails off and hesitates to talk more. Has he ever told anyone about Wyatt? He’d be damn popular if he was alive now, his awkwardness was sweet and he had a big heart underneath the blabbering of numbers. Would have amazed so many with that brain. “A friend did though. Did it when he got nervous or had to think.” He opened up.
The girl nods her head in understanding and doesn’t press any further, she knows Haymitch will talk about it when he’s ready.
Haymitch rolled the coin between his knuckles with a mournful look in his eyes. “He was one of those, uh.. booker boys. Well- no, no he wasn’t. He more so worked with them even without a choice. Good with numbers.” He understands why Wyatt played with the coin when he talked, it was helping slightly with his own running thoughts.
“Helped set the bets. A lot of what I know of the games came from him, too.” Sometimes, when he thinks back to their first interactions, he feels a deep regret in his chest for how judgmental he was on the train. But then he remembers the group hug they shared moments before they entered the arena, how Wyatt had an arm wrapped around him and feared to let any of them go.
“I think he knew he didn’t stand a proper chance.. knew the probability of everyone. Even bet that I would win.” He let out a bitter chuckle and pocketed the coin into the safety of his jacket.
“I wish I could have met him.”
“You probably wouldn’t have liked him at first.”
“Maybe not, but if you call him a friend then I would too.” She sounds genuine.
Haymitch bites back a grin and hopes whatever ghost of his team is watching him right now also looks after the mockingjay across from him. He gets up from his seat to leave to his room, ruffling her hair as he walks by. His hand goes back into the pocket of his jacket, running his finger over the metal in comfort.
___
When the Mockingjay became a big symbol of the rebellion that Haymitch saw across screens in Panem, all he could see was the blonde of a feisty girl he called sister. There’s some amusement at how Maysilee disliked the bird itself becoming the symbol of what they fought for, but also some bittersweet feelings mixed in. To him, everything about that pin reminded him of her. Even back when Katniss was thrown into that arena for the first with it clipped to her collar in a bronze shine it felt like the second quarter quell again. He remembers standing on that pedestal looking at his left to a girl who would put up a hell of a fight no matter what. Haymitch’s opinion of the girl had done a complete turn over the days they got to know each other. She died a sister to him.
So when he heard that announcement of the two victors of district twelve, Haymitch liked to believe it was because Maysilee fought beside them.
Embracing Katniss and Peeta for their win, once he managed to find the chance, he closed his eyes and wondered how Maysilee would have felt. She’d be proud, she’d be so proud and he could picture the smirk on her face in his mind. Though the blonde of her hair covered most of her features in his memory. Haymitch pulled back after a second longer in the hug, a hand on each of their shoulders as he glanced at the mockingjay sitting on the girl's collar. Look at them Maysilee, you helped them.
That night back in the Capitol apartment, Haymitch checked on the two as much as he could without disturbing them. The bright screen of the tv was on in the living room and lit up most of the apartment. Closing Peeta’s door after making sure he was still breathing, his eyes look to the screen showing past interviews and suddenly, he’s back twenty four years in tears and anger over playing right into the Capitols hands for winning. On the screen the covey singer taunts him but he doesn’t act out or cry like he did back then, he simply smiles from where he’s stood and watches her performance and thinks of his love, how her voice when she sang was so similar.
He feels the shift again in the world, a door that he managed to unlock all those years ago but not push open begins to move. However, this time doesn’t feel so hopeless. It feels right.
___
“Haymitch? You left a box in the bathroom.”
Peeta poked his head into the kitchen where Haymitch sat, cradling a cup of coffee for once. He sat by the nearest window to watch the sun rise without going outside in the chilly autumn wind. Turning his head around he let out a hum of confusion before Peeta walked in with the box.
“Oh- sorry, kid.. forgot to put that back.” He laughed nervously, setting the steaming cup down and getting up to meet him half way. The box was an old jewellery box he found hidden in one of the draws of the house. Katniss didn’t really wear any to need it, so he kept it for himself. It had this wooden carved flock of geese on the lid and flowers along the side. The nights he indulged back into his drinking habits he would sit in his favourite chair by the fire and trace every carving along the box.
“It’s alright. Katniss just didn’t want you to forget where you put it. I’m guessing it’s important?” The blonde questioned, letting him take the box and hold it close to himself. Haymitch let out a grumbling sigh when he pictured how the conversation was heading. Despite that, he didn’t feel against the idea of telling Peeta of all people. If it Katniss he might be a bit more hesitant, she sometimes got a bit too nosey without realising it.
“Sit down, I’ll tell ya. Coffee?” He offered as he made his way back to the kitchen counter . Peeta nodded with a please and sat down in the seat next to his and listened to Haymitch walking around the tiled flooring as he fetched a cup of coffee for the boy. Once they were both sat, one drink freshly hot and the other lukewarm, Haymitch took a big gulp to wake himself up. Today felt like a good day and if there was any day to open his own Pandora’s box then today it is. His fingertip trailed the carved geese for a second before he set the cup down and began his story.
“Box isn’t anything special, found it in one of your spare rooms that you never use.” He cleared his throat and pushed through the uncomfortable feeling rising inside. “I had some jewellery from friends I wanted to keep in here. Too important to lose.” When Peeta asked him what kind of jewellery was inside, Haymitch opened the box and turned it so they both could look. The first piece he took out was a purple necklace, beads wooden but painted different shades of purple from light to dark.
“This was Maysilee Donner’s necklace. If you saw her and her twin sister Merilee together, you’d at least know which one was Maysilee by this.” Haymitch found himself smiling as he spoke. “A mean taste in fashion she had. One time, when we were on the train to the Capitol, she kicked down our escort for her outfit every time they crossed paths. But she was sweet and kind. I didn’t actually like her much at first, but she was like a sister to me till the end..”
Haymitch ignored how his hands shook as he laid out the necklace on the counter. Peeta didn’t even judge him for it when he picked out a small coin and placed it next to Maysilee's token.
“This was Wyatt Callows. I told Katniss about him once, being in a family of gamblers. His brain was as big as his heart, thankfully.” The blonde laughed softly at Haymitch’s comment. He was glad Peeta wasn’t interrupting, he doesn’t think he’d be able to continue if he started asking questions.
“I never.. I never saw how he died. I was told he died protecting one of our own, heck I even thought so when I saw his face flash in the sky the first night..” he placed his hands on his lap, taking in a deep breath. He couldn’t say too much, if he did he might throw up and he really didn’t want to start the morning off like that when he’s made this big of a progress. “Father killed himself when I came back. Didn’t really know him but I assumed it’s cause he bet money on his own son.. couldn’t handle losing the money over his kid.”
“They mean a lot to you?” Peeta spoke up quietly, eyes admiring the tokens on the kitchen counter than meeting Haymitch’s gaze.
“Yeah..yeah, kid. They meant everything.” He smiled sadly and took out the last two tokens in the box. One was a piece of a clay sunflower from a fallen district nine tribute he doesn’t know. Most of the original token had been lost to the explosion in the arena, but this small piece was still in his pocket and even though you could barely tell what it used to be he still kept it as safe as possible. Haymitch took the time to explain its original form to the boy who was listening to every word with such importance. He was glad someone would remember them now, at least in some way.
The second and last token in the box was another necklace made by Maysilee. Purple and yellow beads, originally meant for Louella McCoy if he remembered correctly, which he told Peeta. Haymitch kept out how Louella died, he didn’t think he could stomach that story today.
“Maysilee gave it to Lou Lou instead. She didn’t have a token from her home and Maysilee believed everyone deserved one.” He vaguely remembers when Lou Lou first got the necklace on. She had stared down at it for so long Wyatt was concerned and when going to touch her shoulder, the girl gave a blindingly cute smile. Haymitch felt his heart warm at the memory, even if all their faces were slightly blurred now.
Closing the box but leaving the tokens out for Peeta to look over, he wrung his hands nervously when he thought about showing the boy the most important one. Why shouldn’t he? Sure, he hated ever talking about these times but with a settling peace over Panem he’d been starting to wonder if now was the time. He can’t remember them forever, he needed to pass it along as much as it pained him to confront the memories. Besides, if he wanted anyone to know about his sweetheart it would be the two kids he practically claimed as his own now.
“There’s one more.” He zipped down his jacket halfway and felt around for the fabric chain of his dearest possession. Haymitch pulled up the necklace, out came a flint striker in the shape of a songbird and a snake. It was slightly rusted in a dark bronze but some parts still shone a faint gold like colour in the sunlight. He held it up for Peeta to see.
“A flint striker?..” The boy's eyes were slightly wide in curiosity as he made out the shape. “It’s beautiful.” Haymitch smiled at his comment and let out a quiet chuckle.
“My token..” he took a deep breath and he could vividly see his love in his mind still. The only face he could remember was as clear as the sunrise. “Lenore Dove Baird gave it to me on my 16th birthday. She..” he trailed off and glanced around to make sure they were alone.
“She was to me like Katniss is to you.” Peeta’s eyes flashed with this deep understanding, like everything he ever questioned about the man clicked into place now. “Everything I did was with the strength from her.. To make it home and be with her until we were old and sit in the meadows feeding the geese.” He tucked the necklace back into his shirt with a sad smile, the metal was always warm against his skin with how little he took it off.
“But like any good old tragedy you hear in the world, life just didn’t let us have that happy ending. But I’ll see her again.” He placed the tokens away, his gaze lingering on the carved geese of the box again. Haymitch feels their presence again around him, all who he’s lost.
“It’s only a matter of time.”
___
Later in the evening, when Katniss returned home from the woods, the lights were off except a single overhead bulb in the kitchen where Haymitch stood. The girl placed her bag and bow down on a chair and asked the man if he was alright. He didn’t respond, hands holding the jewellery box in deep thought. Katniss debated going upstairs to look for Peeta for some guidance, she never felt she was good at comforting people and with someone like Haymitch? The girl would expect him to raise his walls higher at any question.
“Haymitch?” She tried again and sat down carefully on the chair opposite him. The guy looked like he needed a drink, badly. But he held just a glass of water. If he didn’t show any sign of replying she was ready to get some help.
“I wanna tell you about some important people, sweetheart.” He said with a warm yet sad smile and opened the jewellery box of tokens to her. “You got the time? Won’t be so pleasant and I don’t want to make you upset-” Katniss cut him off right before he finished, telling him not to worry and she won’t be upset, even if she does she would never blame him.
For a long while into the night Haymitch, for the second time today, took Katniss through the stories of each of his friends and his sweet dove. The girl brought up questions every now and then, which Haymitch had been preparing to answer since he finished telling Peeta of them that morning, but he felt light enough inside to answer them. He told her about the small laughs the team had in the apartment, the rare relaxing moments without the dread of death weighing them down and the final night together in their bedroom. Snuggled up on the floor by the windowsill, watching the interviews on the screen flash by with that familiar country girl lulling them into what they expected to be their final sleep. The last time they all felt at peace.
Katniss later asked if she could write this down, wanting to preserve these memories for as long as she could. Haymitch gave her an answer a month later when he dropped a scrappy notebook and pen on her lap.