In the arena, there were no friends and everyone was fair game. Haymitch had gone into this once before with the mentality that friendship could conquer some of the brutalness of the games, that sticking together and forming alliances would do good. In the end, becoming a Victor had only hurt more and Haymitch still remembered Maysilee Donner, and what it felt like to feel someone die. The whole time while in the arena, he had tried his best to protect her and then she struck out on her own, not wanting to be the one to kill him. She had only been on her own for a few minutes before she was attacked by a flock of neon pink bird, their razor sharp beaks slicing through her neck like a warm knife in butter. Haymitch had saved her pin, the Mockingjay that was passed onto Madge from her mother, and then to Katniss. Haymitch may not have been able to save Maysilee, but Katniss still had a chance.

He stuffed a large bite of bread into his mouth and chewed slowly, still listening to Katniss as she went on to mention Gale's brilliant idea from the year before. At sixteen, if someone had mentioned running away to escape the Hunger Games, he probably would have taken the chance. Of course, years ago, the fence that kept the residents of 12 hostage still worked, and getting out would have been just as deadly as any arena. “Could of,” he finally nodded, finishing off his bread. “Should of,” he added as he scooted closer to the fire and warmed his hands.

Snorting, Haymitch nodded again, and even cracked a smile. That would be something to see, a tribute faking sick. “Can't die today, I've got a fever,” Haymitch mocked, laughing. He rubbed his hands together for the friction, warmer already thanks to the flames. “The other winners are just as angry about this as you are, I'm sure,” he began, “but you've got an advantage. You're the new thing, the hot commodity. You're going to have alliances and you're not going to need Peeta to win people over for you.” Everyone in Panem knew what Katniss could do with a bow and arrow, any tribute, past or present, would be crazy to not want to join up with her.

For a brief moment, Haymitch thought of telling Katniss about his own games, but he wasn't sure he was ready to go into the gory details. At the time, he had been happy to come home, but returned a different person and drank to forget. The memories would always be there, and Haymitch hoped that when he stepped into the arena for the second time, it wouldn't be anything like the first. He didn't want to see a single candy-colored sunset, or artificially green leaf, no neon blue water and [i]definitely[/i] no birds that were capable of sawing necks in half. Katniss didn't need to hear those things from him, she would see for herself eventually, and hell, she had lived it to an extent. However, she deserved to know more about him, and what he had to say could help to save her life down the line.

“Has anyone ever talked to you about the year I won?”

Standing there in front of Gale with nothing to say had never been more awkward. Normally, conversation came easily between Prim and Gale, but things had obviously changed and that was unsettling. She hadn't thought that telling him not to volunteer, that trying to protect him, would drive Gale away so quickly. Perhaps it had been silly of her to think that their friendship had meant something, that it had been special and not just something to do while Katniss was away. Everything was a mess, and the secret feelings that Prim had for Gale only served to complicate things even more. The young blonde had never had her heart broken before, and she was growing nervous as she wondered if this was the last time they would really have together.

There wasn't time to say much, to ask questions about his hunting, or his family, because it was time for dinner. Prim didn't have much of an appetite, and found herself pushing her meal around her plate with her fork. Occasionally, she would glance over at Gale and want to say something, but no words came out. Besides, she didn't want to worry her mother, the woman was just starting to recover from the knowledge that Katniss would have to go back into the arena, and Prim didn't want to add any stress to her life. She was content to eat, to take a few bites here and there and let her mother field Gale's questions about spending time with Katniss.

“That was good, Prim,” the older blonde smiled at her daughter and Prim smiled in return. She could tell that her mother needed rest, her blue eyes were starting to flutter.

“You should go to bed, mom,” Prim suggested with a soft smile as she got up to gather the plates. The older woman agreed, giving her daughter a kiss on the head a polite goodnight to Gale before leaving the room. 

The air between them was still awkward, but Prim took his plate anyway, setting the dishes in the sink to be done. She ran the water, trying to distract herself, but all she could think of was Gale in the next room and trying to fix their friendship. Biting at her lip, the blonde turned off the water and quickly strode back into the dining room. She licked her dry lips, “I'm sorry for the other day. I...if you want to volunteer, you should. I didn't mean to...” She sighed, heart beating rapidly in her chest. “I'm not mad at you.”