No matter how vague Peeta's plan was, Haymitch had the luxury of knowing that there was a safety net for them, a way out of the arena and the hell that the Capitol had created. Knowing made things easier to get through, the days seemed a little brighter, and then there was Katniss, who was convinced that she was going to die. Earlier, Haymitch hadn't thought that keeping secrets from her was going to be all that hard, but as she sat on his best, going on about district 12 starving, hunting season and then asking him to look after Prim and Gale, Haymitch was almost unable to hold his tongue. The dark-haired girl was strong, wise beyond her years from the burden of bearing adulthood too soon, but her weaknesses were showing through quickly. In the arena, that would have gotten her killed in a second, but there in the safety of his room, Haymitch didn't mind so much, even if he did wish there was something he could say to make her feel better.

“Nothing's going to happen to any of us,” he said, shaking his head. It was the best he could do, although his words came with no obvious promise. “You're going to be around Katniss, we're going to make sure of that.” Before Peeta's new plan, that had been Haymitch's goal from the beginning, to keep Katniss alive, to help her win a second time and continue the long overdue revolution. There was more hope now, something to look forward to as long as all of them made it seven days. In the arena, that was damn near the end, but many of them had done it before and Haymitch knew that Gale and Prim stood a chance at it. “Then you can go back home and do all the hunting you want. No one's gonna starve.”

With any hope, Katniss would believe him, and not think that he was only trying to placate her, tell her things she wanted to hear. “We make a great team,” he agreed, and he knew that they would put on a good show for the public. The Games were all about entertainment, and Haymitch knew how to do that, he knew how to make a Quarter Quell interesting. If the alliance (whoever else that may be) could satisfy the Capitol's need for blood branded as television, no one higher up would suspect a thing before the eventual escape, or extraction. It still bothered Haymitch that Peeta hadn't told him more about the plan. 

For how dismal she came off, Haymitch could tell that Katniss still had her confidence about her, and that was something that he could keep betting on. He smiled softly and reached for the books, getting them out of the way before putting an arm around her where he held her close to his side. He hoped that he could be something of a comfort to her, or that she would appreciate the attempt, but there was more than just friendship in his touch. Now that the former Victor knew that he was going to live, his feelings for Katniss made him feel all the more guilty, and there was so much riding on the bond between 12—he was worried about breaking it. 

“They [i]are[/i] stupid,” Haymitch said, laughing to himself. Gently, his fingers trailed along her arm, still keeping her close. “Have you seen them? That new kid from 1 barely looks like he can spell his own dumb name, let alone know who's an easy target and who's not. And if they come for you,” he paused, “you're not going to have a problem.” And if she did, if Katniss hesitated, Haymitch's hands had already been stained with blood; a little more wouldn't make him any worse of a person. 

The important thing was that Katniss didn't see him in a bad light, that she still thought he was halfway decent and only doing what needed to be done. In a way, they were in the same boat, both Victors, both from poverty, both with problems. Katniss had a way of reminding Haymitch of himself. Hesitating slightly, Haymitch leaned over and pressed a kiss to the side of her head, against her freshly washed hair. “You don't need to worry so much,” he said, his voice quiet as the fingers of his other hand carded through the ends of her hair.

The one thing that Prim never wanted to be was a bother, or a burden, so she was glad that Gale was awake and willing to talk to her. There were so many swirling thoughts in her head, doubts mixed with hopes and dreams of the future where the Games didn't run their lives, where they could live in peace. It was silly to think about it, to wish for so many things before the Games had even started and when so much uncertainty still lingered in front of them. Prim needed to let it out, though, to tell someone who understood, who also might be having the same thoughts. Gale knew that they would be going home, or rather, were promised a way out. Gale could talk to her when Katniss couldn't, because Snow would be looking too closely, and that cold, old man would never suspect the weakling sister and the hero's best friend. 

As Gale talked, Prim leaned against him, never failing to be entertained by his unfailing optimism. The way he talked made it seem like they would be back home in three weeks time—back in their houses, hanging out late into the day, having meals together and laughing like nothing had ever happened, like they had never been taken away. It sounded too good to be true because it was and Prim knew that when they escaped, Panem would change. The Capitol wasn't going to let them leave without retaliation, and the blonde didn't know if she was prepared for that sort of thing. Peeta hadn't mentioned the consequences, or where they would even be going after getting out, but Prim had to trust that it would be taken care of, that they weren't being sent into something completely blind.

“You feel like home to me...” Prim said softly, lifting her eyes to look at Gale. If they made it out alive, maybe there was a chance for them, maybe she wasn't horrible at reading the signs. “With Katniss and Haymitch here, and Peeta, it's almost like we never left.” Or maybe it was more wishful thinking, and Prim was seeing things that weren't there. Gale had been different with her since before the Reaping, more affectionate, more caring, but she thought that was only because he felt the need to take care of her the way Katniss did.

Licking her lips, Prim continued to speak, “I want to go home. I want to see my mom again, and your family, and tease Katniss about Buttercup. I want to cook and clean up after you both when you come back from hunting. I want my life back.” She sighed softly, “it's only seven days. That's not impossible, right? We'll be together, all of us. We can do it.” Home was so close, yet teasingly far away and Prim didn't want to get caught up dreaming about [i]what if[/i] when her head needed to be in the here and now.