mmidnight Member
Mhm.
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Posted. I hope it's alright.
It was refreshing to finally breathe fresh air again, to be outside the walls of the penthouse where they were being kept. From the roof, the Capitol almost looked small, and the sprawling mass of lights and buildings finally had a definite ending. In a way, Haymitch felt like escape was possible, as if he could simply crawl over the edge of the railing and survive the fall to the gilded street below. There was no freedom anymore, and Haymitch had figured that out for himself years ago, but sometimes he forgot just how deeply these Games ran and how they continuously mangled the lives of everyone involved. He wasn't sure if Katniss understood that yet, even though she was being forced back into the arena for a second time. Things really were a mess, that much was evident by the anger in Katniss's voice when it came to Prim. This was what the Capitol wanted, to split them up with the hope that they would try and kill each other.
Wordlessly, the former Victor agreed to go inside and relinquished the sense of calm he felt in the cool, new spring breeze. He followed Katniss back into the elevator and took it down back to their floor. It was late, and the four of them would have to be up early for training, something that started all over again in just a slight handful of hours. Sleep was important when it came to the Games, but Haymitch knew how impossible it was for just about everyone involved. Exhausted tributes were pliant tributes, tributes who went down easy, who got out of the way and died like they were supposed to. Haymitch shook his head at himself, not wanting to let those thoughts creep into his mind so suddenly; they were nightmare fuel.
“It's what I do,” Haymitch shrugged, smirking slightly as Katniss touched his shoulder. Her hand was warm through his shirt and he wanted to pull her close, take her into his arms and not let go for a while. Instead, he told Katniss goodnight and went quietly back to his own room.
The night had faded quickly, making way for a new day and Haymitch was awoken by an Avox coming into his room. Slowly, he opened his eyes and brushed his hair from his face as the silent girl set a freshly laundered uniform down at the edge of his bed. After she left, Haymitch got out of bed and reached his hands above his head, stretching his tight and sore muscles. He wasn't in horrible shape, not anymore, but sparring with Prim without a warm up had definitely been a bad idea. He winced as he walked over to the bathroom for a shower, sure that the hot water would wake up his muscles and get him ready for the day. He was a little worried, though, unsure of what kind of mood Katniss was going to be in, and the thought of Prim not taking his advice was on his mind as well. He wanted to help the kid, but she had to help herself.
After showering and getting dressed for the day, Haymitch emerged from his room and walked out to the dining room. Katniss, Gale, Peeta and Effie were already there, and Haymitch noticed that he had come out at the same time as Prim. She looked a little timid, nervous around her sister, but she was dressed with her hair already done up in a ponytail. “Morning,” Haymith responded to Gale as he took a seat next to Katniss. An Avox got him a cup of coffee and set a plate of eggs in front of him. He began to eat when Katniss asked about other archers and Haymitch chewed slowly as he thought. “The other Victor from 7, I think,” he said, and hummed as he continued to go over the other tributes in his mind. “The new Career from 2, the girl, I think I heard Enobaria mention something about it.” He shrugged and took a long drink of black coffee, “you want to make sure the Gamemakers remember that you're the best archer out there, though.”
Working with Haymitch had really done a lot for Prim, and sparring, even though she wasn't great at it, had given her enough confidence to try and fight for her life. She knew that Katniss was angry with her, and she assumed Gale felt the same way—frustrated that she hadn't been trying—but that was going to change. Prim had woken up that morning ready to go. She had put on her uniform and put her hair up, not wanting to assume that Katniss would braid it for her, and she figured that her sister had already done enough. She had come to breakfast that morning quietly, only smiling at the greetings she got before sitting down.
The day before the blonde girl had been dreading going downstairs, but as she sat and ate her breakfast, she found that she was actually eager to get the day started. While Prim was still nervous about trying and failing, she knew that it was better than not trying at all. She wanted to take some of the pressure off of the others, and wanted to prove that she was capable of keeping herself alive without Katniss's help. She shifted slightly in her seat, trying to get more comfortable and feel less awkward, but her muscles ached from sparring; muscles she never knew she had were begging for some kind of rest.
When Katniss spoke to her, Prim was surprised and it gave her a little bit of hope that she wasn't completely hated by the older girl. “Thanks...” she smiled softly, and laughed as Gale added his own opinion, which Effie wasn't pleased about. “I'm sure you'll all do great too.” But that was a given, because Katniss, Gale and Haymitch had already proved to be very comfortable with their weapons.
The fight between the girls had started to ease, and Haymitch didn't want to spend any more time on it. He was halfway through his breakfast when he looked to Peeta, “don't forget. We need to talk tonight.” There was something going on in Peeta's head and Haymitch needed to know what it was. If there was a plan, he wanted in, especially if it meant he and the others could stay alive.
Peeta nodded, “I know. There's some things I need to finish first.”
As if Peeta hadn't been secretive enough, his words really made Haymitch think that there was something to look forward to. He could get out, Katniss, Prim and Gale could too. He hoped some of the other victors would be included in whatever Peeta had thrown together, because there were many of them that didn't deserve to die after already doing their time.
Wordlessly, the former Victor agreed to go inside and relinquished the sense of calm he felt in the cool, new spring breeze. He followed Katniss back into the elevator and took it down back to their floor. It was late, and the four of them would have to be up early for training, something that started all over again in just a slight handful of hours. Sleep was important when it came to the Games, but Haymitch knew how impossible it was for just about everyone involved. Exhausted tributes were pliant tributes, tributes who went down easy, who got out of the way and died like they were supposed to. Haymitch shook his head at himself, not wanting to let those thoughts creep into his mind so suddenly; they were nightmare fuel.
“It's what I do,” Haymitch shrugged, smirking slightly as Katniss touched his shoulder. Her hand was warm through his shirt and he wanted to pull her close, take her into his arms and not let go for a while. Instead, he told Katniss goodnight and went quietly back to his own room.
The night had faded quickly, making way for a new day and Haymitch was awoken by an Avox coming into his room. Slowly, he opened his eyes and brushed his hair from his face as the silent girl set a freshly laundered uniform down at the edge of his bed. After she left, Haymitch got out of bed and reached his hands above his head, stretching his tight and sore muscles. He wasn't in horrible shape, not anymore, but sparring with Prim without a warm up had definitely been a bad idea. He winced as he walked over to the bathroom for a shower, sure that the hot water would wake up his muscles and get him ready for the day. He was a little worried, though, unsure of what kind of mood Katniss was going to be in, and the thought of Prim not taking his advice was on his mind as well. He wanted to help the kid, but she had to help herself.
After showering and getting dressed for the day, Haymitch emerged from his room and walked out to the dining room. Katniss, Gale, Peeta and Effie were already there, and Haymitch noticed that he had come out at the same time as Prim. She looked a little timid, nervous around her sister, but she was dressed with her hair already done up in a ponytail. “Morning,” Haymith responded to Gale as he took a seat next to Katniss. An Avox got him a cup of coffee and set a plate of eggs in front of him. He began to eat when Katniss asked about other archers and Haymitch chewed slowly as he thought. “The other Victor from 7, I think,” he said, and hummed as he continued to go over the other tributes in his mind. “The new Career from 2, the girl, I think I heard Enobaria mention something about it.” He shrugged and took a long drink of black coffee, “you want to make sure the Gamemakers remember that you're the best archer out there, though.”
Working with Haymitch had really done a lot for Prim, and sparring, even though she wasn't great at it, had given her enough confidence to try and fight for her life. She knew that Katniss was angry with her, and she assumed Gale felt the same way—frustrated that she hadn't been trying—but that was going to change. Prim had woken up that morning ready to go. She had put on her uniform and put her hair up, not wanting to assume that Katniss would braid it for her, and she figured that her sister had already done enough. She had come to breakfast that morning quietly, only smiling at the greetings she got before sitting down.
The day before the blonde girl had been dreading going downstairs, but as she sat and ate her breakfast, she found that she was actually eager to get the day started. While Prim was still nervous about trying and failing, she knew that it was better than not trying at all. She wanted to take some of the pressure off of the others, and wanted to prove that she was capable of keeping herself alive without Katniss's help. She shifted slightly in her seat, trying to get more comfortable and feel less awkward, but her muscles ached from sparring; muscles she never knew she had were begging for some kind of rest.
When Katniss spoke to her, Prim was surprised and it gave her a little bit of hope that she wasn't completely hated by the older girl. “Thanks...” she smiled softly, and laughed as Gale added his own opinion, which Effie wasn't pleased about. “I'm sure you'll all do great too.” But that was a given, because Katniss, Gale and Haymitch had already proved to be very comfortable with their weapons.
The fight between the girls had started to ease, and Haymitch didn't want to spend any more time on it. He was halfway through his breakfast when he looked to Peeta, “don't forget. We need to talk tonight.” There was something going on in Peeta's head and Haymitch needed to know what it was. If there was a plan, he wanted in, especially if it meant he and the others could stay alive.
Peeta nodded, “I know. There's some things I need to finish first.”
As if Peeta hadn't been secretive enough, his words really made Haymitch think that there was something to look forward to. He could get out, Katniss, Prim and Gale could too. He hoped some of the other victors would be included in whatever Peeta had thrown together, because there were many of them that didn't deserve to die after already doing their time.
I really can't see Prim wanting to go after Katniss in the afternoon when Katniss went out of her way to not acknowledge her :/
I'm going to bed, but I'll reply tomorrow.
I'm going to bed, but I'll reply tomorrow.
I guess >__> maybe.
Haha, alright :3
Haha, alright :3
*SLOWLY DIES* Now your characters will never get no booty!
Oh, I thought you were skipping to the morning anyway! Go ahead :3
Oh, I thought you were skipping to the morning anyway! Go ahead :3
*drinks ur delicious tears* ;3 <3
Hahah, shot time because POOR PEETA!
Hahah, shot time because POOR PEETA!
*RUBS HANDS TOGETHER EVILLY* Suffer...suffer!
Haha, that would be something to see. He would be so done with all of them, tbh. Headcanon that Haymitch doesn't like sugar.
Haha, that would be something to see. He would be so done with all of them, tbh. Headcanon that Haymitch doesn't like sugar.
*OLD TIMEY WHITE VILLAIN LAUGH* Yes, good.
Haha, I can't help ittt. I'm that tired of RDJ and fucking Iron Man. Take a break, dude. Pls.
Nah, I think goodnight is good enough :3 and yas, take us to Willy Wonka's!
Haha, I can't help ittt. I'm that tired of RDJ and fucking Iron Man. Take a break, dude. Pls.
Nah, I think goodnight is good enough :3 and yas, take us to Willy Wonka's!
*AGGRESSIVELY GIVES YOUR MUSICAL A BAD REVIEW*
Your horses are donkeys at best! He got weird after playing Jack Sparrow, just like RDJ and Iron Man. But hey, I finally posted and I hope you don't hate it because now I think I suck.
Your horses are donkeys at best! He got weird after playing Jack Sparrow, just like RDJ and Iron Man. But hey, I finally posted and I hope you don't hate it because now I think I suck.
The air in every part of the penthouse suite was thick with tension and Prim felt like she was drowning in the expectations that everyone was putting on her. Somehow, the thought of losing Katniss to the games for a second time had been easier to handle than watching it happen in real time, seeing her sister pull away and distance herself from her straggling, useless, younger sibling. Had she been on the outside looking in, Prim would have agreed with Katniss's choices, and she knew that only the strong survived, but this was just too much, too soon and the young blonde was left feeling like she was out of options. At the same time, there was an overwhelming sense of guilt inside of her that told Prim she owed it to Katniss to try. Even if she failed miserably and died, Katniss deserved more than just the moping she had been doing, and constant moments of panic that she had been suppressing since that first day on the train.
As soon as the door to her room closed behind her, Prim threw her fist into the metal wardrobe by the bed. The pain that blossomed through her knuckles and traveled up her arm barely registered as she did it a second time, and finally a third before her skin was bruised and broken open. This angry person wasn't her; Primrose Everdeen was gentle and kind, a healer, and sunny. She was the exact opposite of her grumpy and fearless sister, and yet, there she was with blood on her knuckles and nursing yet another painfully stupid mistake. Underneath it all, her real fear was the same as Gale's, that the Capitol would change her. The worst part was that it already had.
After Prim's exit from the dining room, dinner seemed to have come to a quick end. Haymitch could tell that Katniss was angry, and Gale seemed a little disappointed by the whole thing. Even Effie appeared to be confused. Haymitch, on the other hand, felt as though this was something he could fix. No one could change the fact that they would have to compete in the Games, but if District 12 could work together, there might be a chance for survival and that was something that Prim needed to participate in. As Gale and Katniss both left the table, Haymitch stayed to finish his dessert and indulged Effie for a few extra minutes about all of the preparation that was being done for the upcoming ball.
“It's not optional?” he asked, spearing one last strawberry with his fork. “It just seems like another distraction.”
“You're going,” Effie replied. Her voice had a tone of finality to it, one that Haymitch didn't often hear but it reminded him that she was an escort for a reason, and she still had authority over her tributes.
There was no arguing with her, and Haymitch silently agreed to not put up too much of a fuss on the night in question. After, he left the table and made his way down the other long hallway and over to Prim's room. He didn't bother to knock on the door and simply let himself in, which earned him a Katniss-like glare from the blonde who was cradling her hand on the bed. He had been there before himself, doing damage to his own body before anyone else had a chance, but in the end it was never worth it. The Games were hard to get through, and that was the point, to suffer toward a small slice of victory. It was best if said suffering could be avoided until the last minute.
“We have to talk,” he told her, always seconds away from launching into some kind of pep-talk.
Prim didn't want to hear it. “Leave me alone. Go find my sister or something.”
The former Victor shook his head and pulled up a chair from the other side of the room. He was facing Prim head on and she looked uncomfortable, her blue eyes, which were puffy and red from crying, refused to meet his. Haymitch didn't care, and maybe if he had tried this hard with Maysilee, she could have been the one to win the last Quarter Quell, and he would have been long dead and buried in the ground like so many others.
“Do you want to die?” he asked, the question blunt and to the point. It was one thing if that was what Prim was looking for, if she never wanted to see her home again, if she wanted to slip easily away from the people who loved her, then Haymitch would leave her be without question. It was easier to organize a smaller alliance than waste time on someone who lacked the will to even try and live. It was silent between them for a long moment, as if Prim really was considering the question, or just trying to wait him out, but she finally did answer.
“No.”
“Then you gotta try, Prim,” simple as that.
That was the last thing that Prim wanted to hear, and she knew that trying was all anyone was looking for. “I don't want to kill anyone,” she admitted. “I don't have it in me.”
Across from her, Haymitch looked sympathetic and Prim was sure that he did understand. No one, aside from the Careers, ever went into the Games looking for someone to destroy—death was just something that happened in the arena and a major part of the entertainment and allure for the audience.
Haymitch could only shrug his shoulders at her very valid concern. “You don't know what you're capable of until you're there with twenty-three or forty-seven other people who want to get out of there just as badly as you do. If it's down to you and one other person, and they're standing in the way of you going home, of seeing your family again,” he paused, sighing. “Would you lay down and die after coming so far?” It was a rhetorical question, just something for Prim to think about and hopefully change her mind about picking a weapon. “Identifying plants isn't going to stop someone from killing you, Prim.”
“It's the only thing I'm good at,” she replied. “I'm not you, I can't throw an ax. I'm not Gale. Gale's good at everything, and I'm definitely not Katniss. She can hit anything.”
Haymitch frowned, “no one's trying to compare the two of you.” Prim scoffed, her eyes rolling. “I wouldn't be in here if I thought your only skill was pulling up weeds. You hit that deer dead center in the chest last month.”
Prim shook her head, “that was just...I don't know. I couldn't do it again.”
“Bullshit!” Haymitch said, standing. Prim wasn't going to downplay herself and make more excuses. “If you can shoot an arrow, you can throw a knife. The stance isn't much different and Gale already taught you the hard parts. It's a distance weapon, you can take someone out before they get anywhere near you.” Prim stayed silent, but Haymitch could tell that she was beginning to agree. The only thing holding her back was fear, and if Haymitch could get her to let go if that, she could save herself. “Get up,” he demanded, gesturing for her to stand and follow him. “Come on!”
The older man had a wild look in his eye, as if he was about to have a big breakthrough and wouldn't be stopped for anything. Prim had to admit, she was curious, but still a little wary as she followed Haymitch out of the room and down another hallway. It was the same one that she had explored with Gale the night before, and she saw the potted plant that had been sculpted into a rather abstract square. Soon, the pair came to the gym room. It was much smaller than the area they had trained in downstairs and offered less equipment as well. Prim supposed it was there for the over-eager tributes, the Careers that felt the need to train endlessly even when they were off the clock.
Haymitch had gone to stand in the center of the room. “Come at me,” he said, arms out to his sides as he waited.
“What?” Prim asked, eyes wide.
“Hit me. Try and hit me,” he encouraged.
Prim was suspicious and hesitant, but even with her injured she wanted to try. Although she didn't like Haymitch, and thought of him as a formerly drunken wedge between herself and Katniss, he was going out of his way to help her and Prim wasn't bitter enough to leave the room and turn down his kindness. The first few times she tried to hit him were awkward, but with a little more encouragement, Prim had managed to at least get a shot in before she found herself pinned to the floor. It was finally sinking, how fast she could lose her life and Prim wanted to fight back. She tried again, listening to Haymitch's guidance, trusting what he said and responding without second guessing him. This was the first time that Prim had ever looked as Haymitch like he was useful, and although she was repeatedly being taken down to the mats and pinned there, the experience was a positive one.
For the next hour, Prim and Haymitch practiced, and the older tribute showed her the basics of fighting, moves she could use to defend herself. Toward the end of the unexpected session, Prim had managed to trip Haymitch up, causing the man to land on his back. She was proud of herself and felt as though she had done more in the last hour than she had all day in front of the other tributes.
“First thing tomorrow,” Haymitch said, catching his breath alongside Prim, “you find those knives. Don't talk to anyone, don't go look at more plants, don't let Gale talk you into running around. Get yourself a weapon—prove everyone wrong.”
“Okay,” Prim agreed, nodding. “I will.” She paused, still catching her breath. “And...thanks for this.”
It was no problem, and Haymitch let Prim know that before leaving the room. Although he still thought that she was Katniss's biggest weakness, he knew that she was going to make progress and would soon be capable of defending herself. The less that Katniss had to worry about, the better off everyone would be. Thinking of it now, of the plan that had yet to come together for him, Haymitch realized that he still needed to talk to Peeta. The penthouse suite was quiet save for a few lingering Avoxes, who pointed him in the direction of the new mentor when asked. He should have known that he would be on the roof with Katniss, and Haymitch wasted no time taking the elevator the rest of the way up.
“Hey,” he said, noticing that Peeta and Katniss seemed to be done with their time on top of the building. “I need to talk to you.”
The blond mentor was leaving, but nodded. “Tomorrow. We'll talk then. I promise.”
Outside, the air was much cooler and Haymitch was glad to be free from the warm confines of the gym. He took a deep, worried breath as Peeta and briefly wondered when the baker had become so cryptic. After, he turned to Katniss, hoping she had calmed down some. “You alright?” he asked, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants. His eyes shifted toward the blueish blackness of the horizon, and the few stars that dotted the sky. “You seemed...tense earlier.” Tense may have been an understatement.
Stretching, Haymitch ran a hand through his hair. “I talked to Prim,” he said casually, attempting to gauge Katniss's reaction to her sister's name. “I think I got through to her.”
Downstairs, Prim was on her way back to her room with every intention of going to sleep. On the way, she passed by Gale's door and saw that it was slightly ajar. She paused for a moment, not sure if he wanted to speak to her after the way she had left the table earlier in the evening. It hadn't been him that she was upset with, though. There were many things in life that needed to be dealt with, and Prim took a step closer before opening his door all the way. “I just wanted to say goodnight,” she said, but really, she wanted him to know that she wasn't angry with him, that nothing was his fault.
As soon as the door to her room closed behind her, Prim threw her fist into the metal wardrobe by the bed. The pain that blossomed through her knuckles and traveled up her arm barely registered as she did it a second time, and finally a third before her skin was bruised and broken open. This angry person wasn't her; Primrose Everdeen was gentle and kind, a healer, and sunny. She was the exact opposite of her grumpy and fearless sister, and yet, there she was with blood on her knuckles and nursing yet another painfully stupid mistake. Underneath it all, her real fear was the same as Gale's, that the Capitol would change her. The worst part was that it already had.
After Prim's exit from the dining room, dinner seemed to have come to a quick end. Haymitch could tell that Katniss was angry, and Gale seemed a little disappointed by the whole thing. Even Effie appeared to be confused. Haymitch, on the other hand, felt as though this was something he could fix. No one could change the fact that they would have to compete in the Games, but if District 12 could work together, there might be a chance for survival and that was something that Prim needed to participate in. As Gale and Katniss both left the table, Haymitch stayed to finish his dessert and indulged Effie for a few extra minutes about all of the preparation that was being done for the upcoming ball.
“It's not optional?” he asked, spearing one last strawberry with his fork. “It just seems like another distraction.”
“You're going,” Effie replied. Her voice had a tone of finality to it, one that Haymitch didn't often hear but it reminded him that she was an escort for a reason, and she still had authority over her tributes.
There was no arguing with her, and Haymitch silently agreed to not put up too much of a fuss on the night in question. After, he left the table and made his way down the other long hallway and over to Prim's room. He didn't bother to knock on the door and simply let himself in, which earned him a Katniss-like glare from the blonde who was cradling her hand on the bed. He had been there before himself, doing damage to his own body before anyone else had a chance, but in the end it was never worth it. The Games were hard to get through, and that was the point, to suffer toward a small slice of victory. It was best if said suffering could be avoided until the last minute.
“We have to talk,” he told her, always seconds away from launching into some kind of pep-talk.
Prim didn't want to hear it. “Leave me alone. Go find my sister or something.”
The former Victor shook his head and pulled up a chair from the other side of the room. He was facing Prim head on and she looked uncomfortable, her blue eyes, which were puffy and red from crying, refused to meet his. Haymitch didn't care, and maybe if he had tried this hard with Maysilee, she could have been the one to win the last Quarter Quell, and he would have been long dead and buried in the ground like so many others.
“Do you want to die?” he asked, the question blunt and to the point. It was one thing if that was what Prim was looking for, if she never wanted to see her home again, if she wanted to slip easily away from the people who loved her, then Haymitch would leave her be without question. It was easier to organize a smaller alliance than waste time on someone who lacked the will to even try and live. It was silent between them for a long moment, as if Prim really was considering the question, or just trying to wait him out, but she finally did answer.
“No.”
“Then you gotta try, Prim,” simple as that.
That was the last thing that Prim wanted to hear, and she knew that trying was all anyone was looking for. “I don't want to kill anyone,” she admitted. “I don't have it in me.”
Across from her, Haymitch looked sympathetic and Prim was sure that he did understand. No one, aside from the Careers, ever went into the Games looking for someone to destroy—death was just something that happened in the arena and a major part of the entertainment and allure for the audience.
Haymitch could only shrug his shoulders at her very valid concern. “You don't know what you're capable of until you're there with twenty-three or forty-seven other people who want to get out of there just as badly as you do. If it's down to you and one other person, and they're standing in the way of you going home, of seeing your family again,” he paused, sighing. “Would you lay down and die after coming so far?” It was a rhetorical question, just something for Prim to think about and hopefully change her mind about picking a weapon. “Identifying plants isn't going to stop someone from killing you, Prim.”
“It's the only thing I'm good at,” she replied. “I'm not you, I can't throw an ax. I'm not Gale. Gale's good at everything, and I'm definitely not Katniss. She can hit anything.”
Haymitch frowned, “no one's trying to compare the two of you.” Prim scoffed, her eyes rolling. “I wouldn't be in here if I thought your only skill was pulling up weeds. You hit that deer dead center in the chest last month.”
Prim shook her head, “that was just...I don't know. I couldn't do it again.”
“Bullshit!” Haymitch said, standing. Prim wasn't going to downplay herself and make more excuses. “If you can shoot an arrow, you can throw a knife. The stance isn't much different and Gale already taught you the hard parts. It's a distance weapon, you can take someone out before they get anywhere near you.” Prim stayed silent, but Haymitch could tell that she was beginning to agree. The only thing holding her back was fear, and if Haymitch could get her to let go if that, she could save herself. “Get up,” he demanded, gesturing for her to stand and follow him. “Come on!”
The older man had a wild look in his eye, as if he was about to have a big breakthrough and wouldn't be stopped for anything. Prim had to admit, she was curious, but still a little wary as she followed Haymitch out of the room and down another hallway. It was the same one that she had explored with Gale the night before, and she saw the potted plant that had been sculpted into a rather abstract square. Soon, the pair came to the gym room. It was much smaller than the area they had trained in downstairs and offered less equipment as well. Prim supposed it was there for the over-eager tributes, the Careers that felt the need to train endlessly even when they were off the clock.
Haymitch had gone to stand in the center of the room. “Come at me,” he said, arms out to his sides as he waited.
“What?” Prim asked, eyes wide.
“Hit me. Try and hit me,” he encouraged.
Prim was suspicious and hesitant, but even with her injured she wanted to try. Although she didn't like Haymitch, and thought of him as a formerly drunken wedge between herself and Katniss, he was going out of his way to help her and Prim wasn't bitter enough to leave the room and turn down his kindness. The first few times she tried to hit him were awkward, but with a little more encouragement, Prim had managed to at least get a shot in before she found herself pinned to the floor. It was finally sinking, how fast she could lose her life and Prim wanted to fight back. She tried again, listening to Haymitch's guidance, trusting what he said and responding without second guessing him. This was the first time that Prim had ever looked as Haymitch like he was useful, and although she was repeatedly being taken down to the mats and pinned there, the experience was a positive one.
For the next hour, Prim and Haymitch practiced, and the older tribute showed her the basics of fighting, moves she could use to defend herself. Toward the end of the unexpected session, Prim had managed to trip Haymitch up, causing the man to land on his back. She was proud of herself and felt as though she had done more in the last hour than she had all day in front of the other tributes.
“First thing tomorrow,” Haymitch said, catching his breath alongside Prim, “you find those knives. Don't talk to anyone, don't go look at more plants, don't let Gale talk you into running around. Get yourself a weapon—prove everyone wrong.”
“Okay,” Prim agreed, nodding. “I will.” She paused, still catching her breath. “And...thanks for this.”
It was no problem, and Haymitch let Prim know that before leaving the room. Although he still thought that she was Katniss's biggest weakness, he knew that she was going to make progress and would soon be capable of defending herself. The less that Katniss had to worry about, the better off everyone would be. Thinking of it now, of the plan that had yet to come together for him, Haymitch realized that he still needed to talk to Peeta. The penthouse suite was quiet save for a few lingering Avoxes, who pointed him in the direction of the new mentor when asked. He should have known that he would be on the roof with Katniss, and Haymitch wasted no time taking the elevator the rest of the way up.
“Hey,” he said, noticing that Peeta and Katniss seemed to be done with their time on top of the building. “I need to talk to you.”
The blond mentor was leaving, but nodded. “Tomorrow. We'll talk then. I promise.”
Outside, the air was much cooler and Haymitch was glad to be free from the warm confines of the gym. He took a deep, worried breath as Peeta and briefly wondered when the baker had become so cryptic. After, he turned to Katniss, hoping she had calmed down some. “You alright?” he asked, tucking his hands into the pockets of his pants. His eyes shifted toward the blueish blackness of the horizon, and the few stars that dotted the sky. “You seemed...tense earlier.” Tense may have been an understatement.
Stretching, Haymitch ran a hand through his hair. “I talked to Prim,” he said casually, attempting to gauge Katniss's reaction to her sister's name. “I think I got through to her.”
Downstairs, Prim was on her way back to her room with every intention of going to sleep. On the way, she passed by Gale's door and saw that it was slightly ajar. She paused for a moment, not sure if he wanted to speak to her after the way she had left the table earlier in the evening. It hadn't been him that she was upset with, though. There were many things in life that needed to be dealt with, and Prim took a step closer before opening his door all the way. “I just wanted to say goodnight,” she said, but really, she wanted him to know that she wasn't angry with him, that nothing was his fault.
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