The look on Katniss's face when Haymitch stepped into the room said it all. He knew that he wasn't wanted, and she more than likely would have chosen anyone else on the train to come and sit with her, but Haymitch couldn't help that he was the only one not having a breakdown over the Reaping. While he was angry with the Capitol, he wasn't surprised by their dirty tricks and the rigged ceremony only added to his determination to get Katniss to the end once more. It had been quite a long time since any citizen on Panem had showed her kind of resolve, and finally, the rest of the country was starting to wise up and realize that these sick games weren't okay. Katniss had the power to start something real, and end the oppressive way of life that people had been living for the last seventy-five years. Haymitch wasn't going to let her give that up just because she was upset over her sister.

Unlike most people, Haymitch wasn't intimidated by Katniss. In his eyes, she wasn't hard to understand and Haymitch saw a lot of himself in his fellow Victor, which was why he knew that she could get through this once again as long as her head was in the right place. When he reached out to her, he was surprised that she hadn't pulled away, and even more surprised that she was actually listening. Haymitch was under no impression that Katniss always respected his opinion, or even cared about what he had to say, but it was clear that she trusted him on this and knew that her actions had a direct correlation to what happened next. Her sister, and Gale were unknowingly depending on her being stable—the rock she had always been. It was unfair to Katniss, and Haymitch knew that, but balance was their best option.

Finally, Katniss seemed to set aside her hatred for him, and actually smiled. Haymitch found himself smiling as well, the expression just barely crossing his features as she set her hand on his. He nodded at her thanks, relieved that she was starting to come around. “Guess so,” he chuckled in agreement. “You could've punched a few more of those Peacekeepers—given them a real show and something to talk about.” Besides Primrose, and what a tragedy that was, obviously.

The previous year's Reaping had been a shock for Haymitch. He remembered talking to Effie about it that night, how both of them were surprised that someone from 12 had volunteered, and how Katniss had an actual chance. Both he and the woman from the Capitol had first hand experience with getting to know these kids year after year, and then watching them die; sometimes before they even made it to the Cornucopia. Haymitch had learned early on not to get his hope set on bringing anyone back to 12, but Katniss had changed that. “I never hated you,” he told her after a brief, thoughtful pause. “You surprised me. I don't think anyone was ready for it.” For once, he was being candid and he allowed Katniss to keep holding his hand as they spoke, “but someone's gotta be a jerk to you.” He smirked at her, and resisted the strange urge to kiss the top of her head as she leaned against him.

Nodding as she apologized, Haymitch breathed a sigh. “I know you are,” he said, assuming her words went for everything that had happened over the last few days. “I am too.” Haymitch had never wanted this for Katniss, she deserved better. “We're going to make the best of this, though. We're going to get you to the end.” Slowly, Haymitch put his arm around her and held her close to his side protectively. “Everyone on this train is still betting on you.” 

It had been one full year to the day since Prim had felt this helpless. When Katniss had volunteered for her at the Reaping, Prim had spent the rest of the day in her room, crying until she had no tears left. She simply couldn't imagine her life without Katniss, and the blonde was overwhelmed by the guilt she felt for letting her sister volunteer in her place. She still felt guilty for it, and now the decision had come back to hurt the people she cared for the most. If only she had gone when she was supposed to; Prim wouldn't have minded dying if it meant that Katniss and Gale would be safe later on. There was nothing she could do to stop any of this, and Prim knew that she was just a pawn in the Capitol's games, an expendable piece that could be used against Katniss.

Once again, Prim felt herself being pulled against Gale, and for the second time that day, his strong arms did little to comfort her. She was having a hard time breathing, or even hearing what he had to say. Knowing Gale, it was something reassuring, something good natured that he wouldn't be able to guaranteed no matter how hard he tried. Prim choked back another sob and did her best to calm down. Listening to Gale's voice, the newest tribute managed to slow her breathing, and she found herself nodding, agreeing that she was also strong. “We did,” she said shakily, her fingers unfurling from his nice shirt, “you're right.” While Prim didn't believe that she would make it very far in the games, she appreciated what Gale was trying to do. She found that she didn't care much for her own well being as long as Katniss got out, and if Katniss could find a way past this, she would be able to save Gale and Haymitch too.

Prim found that her legs felt weak as Gale pulled her to feet, but she didn't complain and instead wiped at her eyes. She was sure that she looked like a mess, and that her failed escape attempt had been the furthest thing from attractive. At the very least, Gale had been there for her, and it was nice to know that he remained strong while she and Katniss had fallen apart. Later, she would go and find her sister and maybe they could talk about where to go from this point in time. For now, Prim was content to let Haymitch handle the situation. He had a way with her, and the two shared a tragic understanding that Prim had no way to relate to. As much as the blonde didn't like to admit it, Haymitch was the best ally Katniss had through these games.

“What is it?” Prim asked now that they were back by the table. She still didn't have much of an appetite, but eating was a good idea. That morning, she had been too anxious to have any kind of breakfast, and now she was sick with guilt and regret. Although, she was curious and she watched as Gale took a spoonful of the white confection from the crystal bowl. His reaction wasn't promising, and Prim was apprehensive even as she dug her own spoon in. First, she smelled it and caught a hint of vanilla and then tentatively, she took a bite. It was cold but the rush of sugar was immediate and the blonde frowned. “They eat this all the time?” she asked, somewhat appalled by the decadence of the Capitol citizens.

Setting the spoon down, Prim looked over the brightly colored sweets laid out on the table and her eyes landed on something pink that looked harmless enough. It was a round treat, and it felt squishy in her hand but quickly softened after she had bitten into it. The flavor of this was more subtle and she picked up the tray to offer one to Gale. “These are strawberry,” she smiled before popping the rest of the candy into her mouth.