the-apprentice-lia

[the-apprentice-lia]

from ariana's insta stories 11-29-2024

[the-apprentice-lia]

[the-apprentice-lia]

Glinda be like:

[the-apprentice-lia]

[the-apprentice-lia]

ah. i was not handed a bandage when this brick was hurled at me violently 🥹

The Winner Takes It All (Part 2)

Summary: Moves and Countermoves AU in which the rebellion never happened and Haymitch is now mentoring his own child for the games.

Warning: 18+ ONLY MDNI Depictions of forced prostitution, a pregnancy resulting from it, and alcohol/drug addiction.

Part 1

“We need a minute.” Y/N tells Everest and Whimsy, once they’ve boarded the train.

Haymitch storms off in the opposite direction, his eyes cast downwards, unable to bear the sight of his son…his tribute.

Effie isn’t sure what to do either, excusing herself to her room.

Y/N shifts between feet, “make yourselves comfortable, ok? There’s plenty of food.” She offers, motioning toward the arrangement on the dining table. “Eat, drink-”

Everest sighs, “you can go, Mom. We’ve got it.”

Whimsy peeks up at her mentor, from the plush velveteen chair.

“Everything’s going to be ok.” Y/N insists, promptly exiting the train car to find her husband.

“You should eat.” Everest tells Whimsy, after the door closes.

“I’m not hungry.” The girl crosses both arms over her chest.

“It’s important to stay healthy for the games.”

“Why do you care? You’re just gonna kill me anyway.”

“I am not going to kill you.” Everest huffs, taking the seat beside her.

“Yet.” Whimsy bites out. “You’re not going to kill me yet.”

“Nobody really knows this, but I was named after the last word in a sentence my mom’s district partner couldn’t finish.”

“W-why are you telling me then?” Whimsy cries. It doesn’t matter, she’ll be gone soon.

“Because you’re my partner and that means something.” Everest insists, “I don’t want you to die and neither do my parents.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Look, giving you your best shot is a severe conflict of interest for them. But my parents are good people, you can trust them. District 12 tributes aren’t known for having a high success rate, but they were able to get Katniss out alive.”

“Even if you’re right about your parents, no one stands a chance against the sponsors you’ll be able to pull. The whole thing is rigged.” Whimsy whispers.

Everest leans toward her, “I think so too. But just because a game is rigged doesn’t mean you can’t win. All you have to do is understand what rules they’re playing by.”

“And what rules are these?”

“No holds barred. The winner takes it all.”

————————————————————————

“Haymitch,” Y/N finds her husband, double fisted in the bar car.

“Hi, angel.” He drawls, “shouldn’t you be fingering a tablet by now?”

“I need you.”

“I’m here.” Haymitch sets the alcohol down, closing the distance between them. “But there’s no way I’m getting through this sober.” He cups her face in his hands, “I need to think. Figure out what we can do.”

Y/N leans into his palm, nodding as she fights back tears.

“Snow’s expecting us to be beside ourselves, irrational. We can use that to our advantage.”

“What about Whimsy?” Y/N wonders. “We can’t sentence that girl to death.”

“You also can’t give her a fair shake.” A voice interrupts them.

Y/N startles, Haymitch pulling her tightly to his chest. Prepared to use his body to shield her own.

“Jesus, sweetheart. Nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Katniss. What are you doing here?” She hasn’t been to the Capitol with them in years. Rarely makes it beyond her front door without crippling anxiety.

“You can’t mentor that girl and you shouldn’t have to. I’m gonna do it.” Katniss lifts a shoulder, handing an open bottle of blue spirits to Haymitch. “This one’s all yours.”

“Thanks,” Haymitch takes a swig.

“Tastes like shit, by the way.” Katniss cracks a grin as she exits the bar car.

————————————————————————

Everest hasn’t slept in his parent’s room for years, so when he wakes to find them curled up on the floor of his room, he’s rightfully surprised.

He sighs, sitting up to stretch, still in his father’s suit from the day before. Oh, that’s right; this isn’t his room. “Mom,” he yawns. “Dad?”

Y/N stirs, in her husband’s arms. Focusing her puffy eyes on her son.

She’s been crying, Everest realizes. Probably most of the night.

“Are you ok, honey?” She asks, immediately.

“I’m fine,” Everest assures her.

“Haymitch,” Y/N jostles him.

“Hmm?”

“Everest’s awake.”

He grumbles out a string of profanities as he drags himself upright. “How are you?”

“M’fine.” Everest repeats, “you didn’t have to sleep on the floor.”

“We wanted to stay close incase you needed us.”

This is his parent’s worst nightmare. The one they’ve been preparing him for since his eleventh birthday. One they will never wake from. “We should probably head over for breakfast. We’ll be in the Capitol soon.” He knows this trek well enough.

By the time they reach the breakfast spread, Katniss and Whimsy are already eating. Effie is powdering her face in the corner.

“Morning.” Katniss greets them, “you look well rested.”

“Slept like crap, actually.” Haymitch informs her, “woke up with a kink in my neck.” He plops down in the nearest chair.

“Yeah, I meant Everest. You both look like hell.”

“Manners.” Effie scolds her.

Y/N forces a smile as she sits, “thanks, Katniss.”

“You should have a drink.” Katniss suggests.

“I’m fine.” Y/N sniffs, “just need a little coffee.”

“Sure.” Katniss isn’t convinced.

“We should talk about what to expect once we arrive in the Capitol.” Haymitch is quick to change the subject.

Everest is seated between his parents, picking at his helping of eggs.

“When the train stops, peacekeepers will come in and escort you to the tribute center. From there you’ll be separated into rooms for your prep teams. They’ll hose you down and get you ready for your stylists. After the tribute parade, we’ll meet up backstage and go from there.”

“Then we’ll start discussing strategy for the games?” Whimsy suggests, flicking through slides on the tablet before her.

Katniss swipes the presentation closed, locking the tablet screen and all but tossing it to the ground.

Haymitch bites back a grin. He’s always hated those damn things.

Y/N scowls at them, collecting the device. “Some tributes find it helpful to look over the strategies this way and make their own notes.”

Everest hasn’t taken the time to look over his own yet. But he always enjoyed his mother’s notes, the way they felt like an extension of her. When he was growing up and old enough to stay home with Aunt Madge, while his parents mentored the games; Y/N would leave him his own slideshow. Pictures of them as a family with hearts around him, or little blue stars, she’d drawn with her stylist. His sisters are probably flipping through their own shows right about now.

“Can I see?” Everest holds out a hand.

Y/N allows him to take it from her.

These images are very different than the ones he grew up with, no hearts. Lots of stars though and annotations. It must take hours to update each year.

The computer generated bodies move upon demand, to demonstrate each technique from every angle. This is his mother’s love language, one other tributes couldn’t understand.

“This is really helpful, Mom. Thank you.”

Y/N flounders, only one other person appreciated this particular gift and he is long dead.

Katniss pushes away from the table, without a word.

Peeta Mellark left a gaping hole in each of them, although Katniss would never admit that.

The rest of their morning is spent in quiet solitude. Until the telltale hum of the train engine comes to an end. They’ve reached their destination.

As promised, peacekeepers do come for Whimsy and Everest.

Before his parents disappear completely from view, he watches them depart the train, hands entwined. Haymitch presses a single kiss to Y/N’s knuckles before they set off in opposite directions.

————————————————————————

Y/N knows the house she’s headed for, she could find it in her sleep. Tungsten Pruit took a liking to her back before he could have her. Sponsoring her tributes year after year, buying her tapes.

The first night Y/N was offered up individually, Tungsten paid a cool million for her. But he’s never hurt her, and for that reason alone, a night with him is preferable to some of the Capitol’s more…colorful patrons.

Y/N knocks once before he answers.

“You’re expensive tonight, Little Minx.”

“More or less than a million?”

“More.” He swings the door open wide for her. “Come in.”

“Is this new?” She points to the settee.

The man wraps his arms around her waist. “It is.”

“I like it.” She allows him to sway her slightly, from side to side.

“About your son…”

“Mhm?”

“I’d like to sponsor him.” Tungsten’s lips brush against her jugular.

“That’s very kind of you.” She swallows down the bile creeping up her throat.

“I have a surprise for you.”

“Oh?”

“In my room.” Up the stairs, down the hall, last door on the right. Illuminated by candle light.

Finnick Odair.

————————————————————————

Everest hears the steady spray of water and scrub brushes. Cleaning the tributes behind the curtains beside him, as he sits untouched; twiddling his thumbs.

Eventually a prep team joins him. Standing nervously, shoulder to shoulder, at the makeshift room’s entrance.

“Uh, hi.” Everest waves, “I’m Everest. You’re here to get me ready for the parade?”

The smallest of the three, a girl with long magenta hair, nods.

“Alright, well here I am.” Everest lies back on the cool, metal table, covered by nothing more than the paper gown they’d left out for him.

Anytime he moves they jump, gasping as they remove their hands.

“Sorry,” Everest clears his throat, “tickles.”

“Are you uncomfortable?” The older woman asks, “we’re under strict instruction to make sure you are safe and comfortable at all times.”

“I’m fine.” Everest blinks up at the ceiling, “just treat me like you would any other tribute.”

No one utters a word, until Vanity burst in some time later.

“Where is he? Where’s my boy? Is he ready for me?”

“Vanity?” Everest narrows his eyes at her. “You’re not a stylist for the games anymore?”

“That’s because you weren’t in the games.” She rolls her eyes, their natural color eclipsed by purple contacts. “I’ve styled you from the day you were born, you think I’m going to stop now?”

Everest smiles, with a shake of his head. “Of course not.”

————————————————————————

Y/N and Finnick are left alone to redress.

“See yourselves out once you’re decent.” Tungsten shrugs on a pale yellow dressing gown before vacating the room. Closing the door behind him.

“I’m so sorry about Everest.” Finnick murmurs, reaching for his bottoms and pulling them up over his hips.

“Me too.” Y/N steps into her dress, zipping it closed against her side.

“Beetee has control of the comm system-”

“I can’t listen to any more of Plutarch’s planning and plotting.”

Finnick hushes her. “It’s not just Plutarch.”

“Was my son getting reaped part of his ‘plan?’”

“This wasn’t a part of anyone’s plan.” He continues buttoning his shirt.

Y/N is silent, buckling the strap of her heels.

“I saw Honey at the reaping.”

She blinks at him, helplessly.

“She’s beautiful.”

“I know.”

“What’s she like?” Finnick hasn’t seen the little girl in person since she was four. The age when Y/N and Haymitch stop bringing their children along to mentor the games. He only gets to see Capitol coverage, a picture or two a year, if he’s lucky.

“Kind and thoughtful and funny.” Like her other children, “too good for this world.”

Finnick’s lips quirk upward, into a lopsided grin. “Tell her Finnick says hi.”

“I will.” Y/N doesn’t want to talk about it anymore “How’s Annie?”

The love of Finnick’s life never blamed Y/N for anything. Still watching a little girl grow up, with Finnick’s smile and another woman’s eyes isn’t easy on her. “She’s alright.”

“And Mags?”

“She’s as good as she’s gonna be, honey.”

“Do you know who has Haymitch?” How bad is it?

“Synchrony.” Finnick says. “She’s harmless, I’ve seen her a few times. She probably wanted both of you, but no one can afford you tonight.”

“How much?” For the star-crossed lovers of District 12?

“Starts with a b, ends with an illion.”

“A billion dollars?” Y/N scoffs.

“Snow knew you’d want to be together.”

How long is he gonna punish me for what I did when I was fifteen?

“I got you something.” Finnick reaches into his back pocket, producing a bottle of pills. “They’re new. I know you don’t like to take anything, but these work well. Better than the others, you can still think clearly it just suppresses everything else.”

“Did you take one?”

“No.” He shakes his head, “I wasn’t going to take one if you couldn’t.”

He wouldn’t leave her in that room to be flayed open with no anesthetic as he watched, perfect numb. He learned years ago to separate himself from his body.

Having only ever been with Haymitch, who she outright adored, it wasn’t a skill Y/N had. So Finnick forced himself to remain as present as she was. Even though she never asked him to.

Together they created life, one he couldn’t be a part of. Sharing a love for each other that doesn’t belong. Sinful and messy. Bleeding into everything they touch.

The agent in charge of their audio feed removes his headset. Disposing of the evidence and moving leisurely through the mansion halls to the presidential office.

Snow looks up at him and curtly excuses his advisors. “Clear the room.”

They do as they’re told, latching the white double doors securely behind them.

The president arches a brow, expectantly.

“The feed from the Odair, Abernathy room was disposed of, Mr. President.” Agent Barton Clares reports. “I know you’ve asked to hear it before hand, but I-”

“I trust your judgment, Agent Clares. That’s why I’ve assigned you to this task. You understand the delicate nature of the situation and what would happen if these…details were released to the public.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Their images would be shattered and from there it would be their word against mine. People would die, the system would collapse.”

Barton nods.

“Was there any other information passed between them?”

“They were strictly discussing the child, Mr. President.” He lies.

“Very well. Were you able to get more information from the Nicholo girl?”

Cashmere. “No.”

“I’ll arrange for you to see her tonight then.” President Snow decides, with a sickening smile. “Do try harder.”

————————————————————————

Everest doesn’t see Whimsy again until they are mounting up for the parade.

His suit will send up sparks similar to a stick of dynamite. Her dress is a canary yellow silk design, which spreads like wings as she opens her arms.

“Woah.”

“There’s already been a girl and boy on fire.” Cinna says. “But that doesn’t mean you have to dress as coal miners. Let’s make them remember you.” He winks at Whimsy.

“You’re sure to have all eyes on you.” Vanity adds. “Make us proud.”

Everest nods, stepping up onto the carriage and squaring his shoulders. He notices Whimsy nervously fidgeting with her gown. “If you need more room for the wings, you can come farther this way.”

She nods, “thank you.”

The horses set off down the runway at a steady pace. District by district, the chariots disappear through the archway and into view of the audience.

Whimsy looks to Everest, once they are visible to the people, “now?”

“You first.” She deserves a moment to win them over.

She spreads her arms, revealing the unique design of her dress and the wings they never saw coming. More applause, whistling, white roses falling from the stands.

Everest can’t find his parents amongst them, he tries one last time before hitting the button which ignites his suit. The material sparks, like the lighted end of a burning blasting rope and the audience loses their minds.

Oh, to be Everest Abernathy.

————————————————————————

The elevator doors open once they reach the twelfth floor. Revealing the penthouse living quarters of the tribute center. It’s more lavish than Everest remembers from when he was small. With crystal chandeliers, a sizable dining table, sitting room and multiple projection screens.

“Woah,” Whimsy marvels, gazing up at the vaulted ceiling.

Katniss commandeers the room nearest the entrance. Locking the door behind her.

“Why don’t you both get settled in? Get some of that make up off before dinner.” Haymitch suggests, rubbing circles into Y/N’s back as she leans into him.

Whimsy takes the room across from Katniss and makes herself comfortable. Leaving only Everest and his parents.

“Where were you while I was getting ready for the parade?”

“Out scouting potential sponsors.”

“There’s a line out the door to sponsor me.” Everest narrows his eyes, “if I’m old enough to fight to the death, I’m old enough to know what’s going on here.”

Haymitch sighs, “leave it alone, Everest.”

The boy asks again. “Where did you go?”

“There are certain responsibilities we have while here mentoring.” Y/N explains.

“That’s bullshit!”

Haymitch holds up a hand. “It’s been a long day, we could all use a good night’s rest.”

“Is that why Honey-”

“Keep your voice down.” Haymitch seethes. “You’re allowed to be angry. Hold onto that, let it drive you. But this is bigger than any of us. We do what we have to, to keep our family safe. It’s not your burden to bear.”

“I just want to help you.” Everest murmurs.

“You can help us by staying alive. That is your only job. Do you understand?” Haymitch is cracking under the pressure, beneath the unimaginable weight of it.

“Yes,” Everest nods.

“How long have you known about Honey?” Y/N wonders.

“I don’t really know anything,” Everest purses his lips.

“If anyone found out…” about Honey, “it would come back to bite all of us.”

“I wasn’t going to tell anyone, Mom.” Everest breathes, “I just want it to make sense.”

“The things we have done will never make sense.” Y/N murmurs, “but that’s for us to live with. Not you.”

He would argue more, under normal circumstances. But right now, he can’t bear the thought of causing her anymore pain. “Ok.”

————————————————————————

What his father said is true, about the anger as fuel thing. If it weren’t for the proverbial guillotine hanging over his family’s head, Everest would be storming Snow’s mansion himself.

He loses himself in the sparring, nearly injuring the career boy from district 1. Cashmere’s tribute. “Are you ok?” Everest attempts to help him to his feet.

“I don’t think you should be out on the mat.” The boy slaps his hand away. “It’s bad enough that you’ve got immunity, you don’t need maim us before hand.”

“I wasn’t trying to maim you and I don’t-” the boy is gone before Everest can finish, “have immunity.”

Whimsy approaches her partner, carefully. “Do you have a weapon of choice? Or do you intend to kill with your bare hands?”

Everest shakes his head to clear it. “My dad said we shouldn’t demonstrate our skills in front of the other tributes.”

“Well Katniss said that’s a crock of shit so…”

Everest chuckles, “of course she did.”

“I don’t think it really matters what you do or don’t do at this point, there’s a target on your back.”

“You’re probably right.” He admits, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I can wield and throw knives, I’m pretty good with a sword or an axe. Not great with a bow, but I can shoot.”

“Very victor’s kid of you.” Whimsy reaches for the nearby sickle. “Do you know how to use this pointy hook thing?”

“No,” Everest laughs. “Do you?”

————————————————————————

Despite her initial hesitation, after three days of training. Whimsy receives a solid seven at her assessment.

“Good job.” The occupants of District 12’s sitting room rejoice, huddled together on the lavish couch.

“Told you.” Everest bumps her shoulder with his own.

“And lastly, Everest Abernathy, from District 12. With a score of…” Caesar pauses for effect. “Twelve.”

“Twelve?” Whimsy turns to him. “No one gets a twelve! Not even the careers.”

“Good thing we’re allies, right?”

Y/N leans closer to Haymitch, whispering to him, frantically. He listens, with a blank expression, all the blood having drained from his face. Running his hand up and down his wife’s back, over and over again, too hard and fast to be comforting.

Everest feels the erratic movement of the cushion beside him before he sees it. “Dad?” He places a hand over his father’s to still it.

“Yeah?”

“Are you ok?”

Haymitch forces a smile, “of course. We should celebrate.”

————————————————————————

“Now Everest, you know I have to ask. How does it feel to receive the highest assessment score ever given to a tribute?”

“Good, I guess.”

“You guess,” Caesar laughs. “So funny, our boy.”

The crowd joins in.

“How did you do it? Have you been training? Planning to volunteer perhaps?”

“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, Caesar, but I was raised by Y/N and Haymitch Abernathy.”

More cackling.

“Was I planning to volunteer? No. But am I prepared for this? Yes.”

“Some might argue that victory is in your blood.”

“I guess we’ll see.”

“You’ve been on this stage since you were in diapers.” Caesar paints on a somber expression. Or perhaps it is a true representation of his grief. “It seems odd to say goodbye without knowing if we’ll see each other again.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Everest lays it on thick.

Caesar nods, as tears roll onto his cheeks.

“It was really nice knowing you, Caesar.” Everest takes the man’s hand. “It was nice knowing all of you.”

The crowd begins a tearful round of applause.

“It was nice knowing you too.” Caesar places his free hand over his heart, to still it. “Let’s hear it, one last time, for Everest Abernathy!”

Everyone in attendance is on their feet. A standing ovation.

Everest squints into the audience, against the harsh stage lights and finds his parents among them. Clapping for him. Proud of him. Scared for him.

When it is over, he makes a beeline for them backstage, flying into their arms.

“We’re so proud of you, baby.” Y/N runs a hand over his hair.

“That was perfect.”

————————————————————————

Everest’s last night before the games is spent with his parents hovering over him. “I’m going to bed.”

“Everest, wait.” Y/N stops him.

“Yeah?”

“Remember what we said about the arena. Once you’re inside, there isn’t much we can do besides send gifts from sponsors.“

“I know, Dad. We’ve been over this like ten times.” Everest smiles, “I got it.”

“A-alright.” Haymitch stammers.

“I’m gonna fight like hell, ok?” Everest promises, looking between his mother and father. “I’m going to do everything I can to come home to you, but if I can’t…. I need you to know that isn’t your fault.”

Y/N stares at her son with glossy eyes. How did we get here, my sweet boy? How did this happen?

“You are the best parents any kid could ask for. You loved me and protected me and taught me how to be a good person. That’s a rare thing in this world.” Everest reminds them. “I love you so much.”

“We love you more.”

“I know! I know how much you love me. I know how much you tried to prevent this from happening. I know how hard you’re fighting for me still. I saw it all. I know.” Everest’s voice cracks, “I’m your son. Nobody can take that away from you, ever. You’re my mom and dad. Nothing will change that.” Not life or death, or anything in between.

Everest is sandwiched between them again; and he welcomes it.

“I have something for you.” Haymitch says, after a long moment. Producing a token for his son. One that had once been his.

Everest stares down at the flint striker, secured on a yellow metal chain which is surely part of his mother’s token. Pieces of them together. Just like him.

————————————————————————

At some point the Abernathys must’ve fallen asleep on the sitting room sectional. Everest wakes long before dawn to a clattering near the bar cart.

“Shit.”

“Katniss?” Everest rubs at his eyes.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was out here. Go back to sleep.”

“Don’t think I can now.” He admits, joining her at the opposite corner of the room.

Katniss stares down at the bottle in her hand, “your mom probably has something to help with that.”

“My mom has something to help with everything.” Everest chuckles.

“She’s been a wreck, your dad too.”

“I figured.” He blanches, “take care of them for me, will you? No matter what happens in the arena… knowing they have you helps.”

“Of course.” Katniss agrees, “but you’re not dying in that arena.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I know you and what you’re capable of. You’re going to finish what your parents started. What I failed to do.” Katniss tells him. “You’re going to win the games.”

“No one ever wins the games.” His father taught him that.

“You will. You have to.” The girl on fire insists, with embers burning in her eyes. “This is our last chance. Our last hope…is you.”

Everest sucks in a breath.

“When you hear that cannon tomorrow, run as fast as you can. Don’t be a hero. Take Whimsy with you, if you can. You haven’t made any other alliances, which I think is smart. It’ll be easier to do what you have to that way. You aren’t there to save them. You can’t. You’ll die trying.”

Everest nods.

“Focus on your surroundings. Find water, food and high ground.”

“I got that part.”

“Good, go get some more sleep. You’ll need it.” Katniss squeezes his shoulder, leaving him to it.

Series Taglist: @lovely-waves @pookiei-bookie @derersketnoget @getawaycarsficrecs

[the-apprentice-lia]

“for mom” I WILL CRY IN THIS BITCH RIGHT NOW 😭😭😭😭

Having a thought of Katniss and Peeta babysitting Arista and Everest while Haymitch and Y/n are out on a date night <3

“Alright, we’re not going far,” Haymitch reminds Peeta and Katniss. “Madge is on back up duty, so if anything goes wrong just open the front door and start screaming, she’ll come.”

“Got it.” Peeta nods.

“Now get out, it’s time for us to feed them candy and stay up past bedtime.” Katniss shoos Y/N and Haymitch away.

“We’ll only be gone a couple hours.” Y/N laughs. Long before their bedtime.

“We have to hurry then.” Katniss insists.

“Have fun.” Peeta waves, before the door closes.

“Are you really going to let us eat candy for dinner?” Arista wonders, tugging at Katniss’ hand.

Katniss leans down so they are at eye level. “Candy and chocolate and sweet rolls.”

Everest joins Peeta in the kitchen to help separate the rolls onto plates. “There’s an extra one.”

“For mom.” Peeta says, without thinking. “Your mom.” He corrects himself, “she really likes them, so I figured we could save her one.”

Haymitch isn’t a huge fan, Peeta made him a sourdough loaf instead.

“She can be your mom too, if you want.” Everest lifts a shoulder. “She’d probably like that a lot.”

Peeta smiles, ruffling the boy’s hair. “Let’s go see what Katniss and Arista are up to.”

[the-apprentice-lia]

and it’s such a little skeleton

SOTR FANART (free with major spoiler lmao)

[the-apprentice-lia]

i hate hate hate how they literally haven’t had any sense of control in their lives EVER. they want to keep this one terrible secret from their own children?? nope. can’t have that either.

Everest asks y/n and Haymitch to tell Arista about when happened to them before she find out like he did. How do you think they had that conversation?

“We need to talk to you about something.”

Arista nods, taking a seat on the ottoman as the sitting room door closes.

“If at any time you need to take a minute or if you’d like for one of us to leave the room, we will do that. Whatever makes this easiest for you-”

“Ok.” Arista cuts her father off, now nervous and fidgeting herself.

“Your father and I…well you know sometimes as victors we had to perform for the cameras.” Y/N begins, taking a seat beside Haymitch on the couch.

“I remember.”

“There were other things.” Y/N looks to her husband, “that we had to do to-”

“I made a deal to keep your mother safe after she won the games.”

“What kind of deal?” Arista wonders.

“I agreed to…” I can’t say it. Not out loud. Not to her.

“President Snow would sell him to higher ups in the Capitol.” Y/N tells her daughter, rubbing circles into Haymitch’s back.

“Like for…you know?” Sex?

“Yeah, honey.”

“You can’t just sell people.” Arista huffs, looking between her parents. “It’s wrong.”

“It is,” Y/N nods. “It was.”

“Are you ok?” Arista looks to her father, eyes full of unshed tears.

Haymitch nods, “yeah, baby. I’m ok.”

“It stopped when you got married though.” Arista decides. She can live with that.

“We got married so that I wouldn’t be sold.” Y/N admits. “But we still had to…be filmed together. That footage was sold instead.”

Arista feels ill, her head is light. Stomach churning.

Y/N moves from the sitting room couch, returning with the nearby waste bin. Holding it out to Arista, who isn’t sure if she’s going to barf or pass out.

“Don’t go.” Arista insists, tugging at her hand when Y/N begins moving back to the sofa.

Y/N sits down beside her on the ottoman, facing Haymitch. His hands shift restlessly as he stares down at them. She pulls Arista closer, cradling her the way she has since she was young.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Come.”

Haymitch forces himself to his feet, closing the space between them and seating himself on the opposite side of his daughter. Unsure of what else to do, he passes a hand over her hair. “I’m sorry.”

“Some of it was real right?” The marriage. “I mean you love each other.”

“We do,” Y/N assures her. “We love each other and that is real. It might not have started out the way we wanted, but I love your dad so much. I love you so much and I would never want a life without you in it.”

Arista nods.

“So when I say what I’m about to say, I need you to know that.”

Arista sucks in a breath, feeling her father begin to stroke her hair again, bracing her. “Ok.”

“When we’d been married for a couple months, Snow told us that we needed to have a baby.”

“He made you have Everest?” Arista blanches.

“Having a child while the games were still going on was a huge risk.” Haymitch tells her, “we didn’t want to take that risk. But we love Everest, we’ve always loved him.”

“Then why did you have me?” If her parents wouldn’t take that risk once, why a second time? Why a third?

“Because we-” Y/N breaks off.

Oh. Arista gets it now, “had to.”

“I wish you didn’t have to know all this.” Haymitch murmurs, “I wish it could’ve stayed in the past, between me and your mother; where it belongs. But if the only say we get in the matter is how you get to hear this story for the first time, then we wanted to be the ones to tell you.” Better to hear it from people who love you.

“We didn’t get to do that for Everest.” Y/N admits, “and we regret it everyday.”

“He knows you love him, Mom.” Arista says, “we all do.”

[the-apprentice-lia]

friends

[the-apprentice-lia]

Hi! I just wanted to point THIS out to you!

Maybe someone at the Lionsgate socials department has READ your fic? Or maybe it’s all a crazy coincidence? 👀 Either way, I loved Moves and Countermoves! The way you captured Haymitch is one of the best, if not THE best I’ve ever read of him.

Hi! I love that you saw this and thought of Moves & Countermoves! I think it’s probably just because “moves and countermoves” is an iconic line by Plutarch in the Catching Fire film…but IF someone on the production team happened to know about this fic, I’m so flattered.

Thank you so much for sending this either way, made my whole day ❤️

[the-apprentice-lia]

Exile (Part 8)

Summary: Y/N Undersee thought the games were over after becoming a victor. Unfortunately, life outside the arena has become just as dangerous. Prequel to Moves & Countermoves. SOTR SPOILERS

Trigger warning: forced prostitution, explicit sexual content, alcohol abuse and other mentions of trauma. 18+ ONLY

Part 7

“I’m tellin’ you somethin’s goin’ on with Y/N. The way she’s actin’.” The footage they’re showing of that little girl mentoring the games, makes it look like she’s having the time of her life. “That ain’t her.”

“You need to leave now.” Y/N’s father insists, attempting to close the front door between them.

“Valor, please.” Cherry presses her hand against it. “She’s your daughter.”

The mayor’s eyes narrow, full of rage. “Do you think I’ve forgotten that? Don’t you think I’ve tried to buy her way out? Barter and plead her way out? She’s my daughter, for god’s sake!”

“So what then? You just give up?” Tucker places his boot between the door and its frame.

“My daughter will be home from the Capitol any minute.” Valor reminds them. “After which time, I have one year to come up with a solution that doesn’t end with my entire family dead. I advise you to do the same.”

Tucker yanks his boot free of the slamming door. “Prick.”

“What do we do now?” Haymitch doesn’t have any family left. No real friends. Just that girl and him, exiled in Victors’ Village.

“There is someone who might know something, but it’s a long shot.” Burdock hasn’t spoken to Haymitch in years. Not since Haymitch started pelting him and his girl with rocks.

Doesn’t matter who it is. “It’s the only shot we’ve got.”

————————————————————————

Burdock and Asterid are not expecting visitors. So when there is a knock at the door after supper, Burdock answers, warily.

Waiting at the stoop is their neighbors from a few blocks down. Cherry and Tucker Carell, lost their oldest in the games a few years back.

“We need to speak with you about Haymitch Abernathy.”

Burdock steps out onto his porch, floorboards creaking beneath him. “What about him?”

“I remember you were close as kids.”

“We’re not kids anymore.”

“Please,” Cherry cuts in. “It’s Y/N. I know you don’t know her, but we do…we did.”

“The laryngitis girl?” Haymitch’s wife.

“Yes,” Cherry snaps her fingers. “She said she lost her voice because she didn’t want them usin’ her words to glorify somethin’ she didn’t believe in.”

Burdock sighs, “I am very sorry for your loss.”

Their loss. They’ve lost that girl.

“We want to get her back.” Tucker explains.

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you can’t. Once a person belongs to them, there’s no turning back. Whatever is happening to her…cannot be undone.”

“That’s not true.” It can’t be.

“Haymitch was my best friend.” Burdock presses on. “He changed, and I don’t blame him. For all he lost…the things he’s seen…”

“Did it happen all at once? The change in em?” Cherry asks.

“No.” Burdock admits, “it took time.” The drinking didn’t help.

“This happened in a week.” Tucker points out.

“Are you sure it is her?” Burdock mutters.

“Who else would it be?”

“I don’t know how true this is,” Burdock clenches his jaw, “the person who told me was…indisposed at the time. But there was a tribute from twelve, reaped for the Quarter Quell who was killed in the parade. They replaced her with a girl who looked enough like her…”

“A body double?” Cherry’s brows pull together.

“She had something in her ear to control her. They could speak into it and even pump some kind of medicine through it.”

“Some kind of bug.”

“Must’ve been.” Burdock nods. “Haymitch said it would bleed.”

“Haymitch told you this?”

“Like I said, I don’t know how true it is. He wasn’t well. But Wyatt Callow died before her,” or so the story goes. “Louella’s casket smelled a lot worse than his when we buried them.”

The silence hangs heavy between them. 

“You seem like good people,” Burdock says, “and I am truly sorry you’re wrapped up in all this. Please be careful, or people are gonna start dropping like flies again.”

Tucker tosses an arm around his wife, leading her away. “Thank you for your time.”

Burdock watches them go, with a heavy heart. To the victor go the spoils.

Cherry and Tucker make their way back home, leaning into each other as they walk.

“We gotta do it.” Run. This could be their last chance.

“We can’t take her.” Not like they wanted to. Not the way they planned it before.

Tucker hangs his head, staring down at the ground. “I know.”

Can’t even tell her goodbye.

“This is what she would want.” He reminds his wife. “The little girl who showed up on our doorstep with flowers for our boy and a gift for each of his siblings. She would’ve wanted us to go.”

“We could leave her somethin’ at least.” Cherry suggests, “a letter.”

————————————————————————

“We’re packin’ just a couple things, like we talked about.” Cherry reminds her children.

“When are we leaving?” Micah, her second oldest son, asks.

“After dinner.” Tucker tells him.

“Can I take my bear?” Peach, their youngest, newly six, holds up her favorite stuffed animal.

“Of course,” Cherry taps her nose. They’ve already packed up everything the little ones would need.

Interdistrict travel is strictly prohibited, but Cherry’s mother was always telling stories about when she was a girl. ‘Free as birds, we were. There’s life outside these districts, Cherry. Don’t let them tell you otherwise.’

District thirteen was said to be destroyed by the Capitol, turns out that isn’t true. A couple of their friends have trickled out to test the waters, sending signs that the coast is clear. They were only waiting for Y/N to get home.

Cherry sits down at the table, paper and pen in hand.

‘My dearest, Y/N.

I’m afraid there’s been a change of plans. I once suffered from some delusion that Tyson’s memories are tied to the walls of this house. That some part of him resides in the bones, buried outback. But I was wrong. My son is not trapped in a place, or a body or even this earth. We are.

Trapped in a district the president has no love for. Where children are starved and slaughtered for entertainment. There’s got to be more than this. We’re going to find it, for our boy, for all of our children, for you.

We tried waiting for you, couldn’t bear leaving you behind. I can hardly bring myself to do it now, but you belong to them. And they will never let you leave.

I know, in my heart, that if the girl we opened our home to and love like our own is still inside you; she’ll understand. I hope we find each other again, somehow, someway, in a new, free world. But for now we’ve gotta go and you’ve gotta stay. We’re still rooting for you, little girl.

Love always,

Ma, Pa, Tyson, Micah, Hudson, Rixi, Adelaide, Hoytt, Valley, Iverson, Olivette, Harvest, Fauna, Wells and Peach.’

When she is finished, Tucker raises the letter to eye level. Resting a hand on her shoulder as he reads it over, then folds it in eighths. Taking the pen in his own hand to jot down, ‘burn after reading.’

“I’m going to sit with Ty for a while before we go.” Cherry tells him, leaving the note and their simmering stew, in his care.

“Alright, baby.” Tucker presses a kiss to her cheek as she passes.

Cherry treks through the house and out the back door. Tyson’s headstone is decorated by a beautiful arrangement of wild flowers. Each picked by hand. She all but collapses onto the ground beside him.

“Tyson, I need a sign.” She murmurs into the evening breeze. “Tell me I’m doing the right thing.”

Nothing.

Even the electric fence beyond the yard is silent. Silent because it’s off.

Knocking from the front door carries through the house. Cherry rises, brushing dried grass and dirt from her dress. “Tucker, who is that?” She closes the back door behind her, watching her husband peer through the peek hole.

“It’s Y/N.”

————————————————————————

When Y/N is finally permitted to leave, Cherry and Tucker are left with a truth much more devastating than any hypothetical they’d considered.

Y/N is still herself.

Fully aware; in her own body.

What controls her now is the fear of losing people she loves.

“We can’t leave her. Not now, not like this.” Cherry whispers.

Tucker covers his mouth. “Cherry, I put the note in her pocket.”

“What? Why?”

“Because nothing changed,” he takes her face in hand. “All we’re doing by staying here is giving Snow more leverage against her. Are you willing to put the blood of every name you signed in that letter on Y/N’s hands?”

“No,” Cherry shakes her head.

“Neither am I.” Tucker huffs, “we have to do this now. Like we planned, the fence is off. It’s now or never.” He doesn’t want to do this, he has to do this.

————————————————————————

Valor is still pacing in the foyer, after his unexpected visit from the Carells. Given their status, they’re not being watched by the Capitol very closely, if at all. They may be able to help Y/N in ways he can’t.

Donning his coat and shoes, Mayor Undersee sets out to visit the seam. The stares he receives from those who reside there are not the kindest. Still he waves and offers a quiet, “hello.”

There’s some commotion, near the far end, the very house he’s headed for. Smoke and screams greet him as he rounds the bend. The Carell house is on fire.

“Get up! Everyone, out of your houses. There’s an active fire. We need water.”

————————————————————————

Y/N is still holding the letter when Haymitch wakes the next afternoon. She’s so far gone that she doesn’t even realize he’s behind her, until a pair of arms encircle her waist.

“They’re gone.”

“I’m so sorry, angel.”

“They left,” Y/N waves the proof at him. “The fire was a distraction.”

Haymitch inspects it carefully, reading over the letter twice, before clearing his throat. “Gotta get rid of it.” Too damning all around.

“I know.” Her fingers clutch the corner.

“Come ‘ere.” Haymitch turns her away from the fireplace. Slowly working the parchment free from her hand. “Hold onto me instead.”

She does, desperately fisting his shirt in her hands.

Haymitch tosses the evidence into the fire, watching flames eat away at the words, until there is nothing left. He keeps her close, shuffling backwards toward the sofa.

“Don’t go anywhere, Haymitch.” Y/N says, softly.

Haymitch mulls it over for a moment. Hoping that some great words of comfort and encouragement will flood his brain. But there is no divine intervention, just the weight of her head against his shoulder. “I won’t.”

“Hold onto me instead.”

Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl @ancientbeing10 @1-800-styles @l3xi3luv @lam-ila @druby2011-blog @liballer @readinginthe-am @rae-11 @champomiel @mariechristine00 @solacestyles @inky-sun @dadbodfanatic-x @sandorcleganeslutt @indigoashh @mustainelove @darkened-writer @ch3rrybutterfly @boredomquest @theladyofmanyfandomsofficial @kisskittenn @kwllakka @feeblemindedfool @oopsieikilledan @that-one-fangirl69 @just-levyy @thisisthepartwhereishutup @alixxhere @quackitys-amor @pepelachanel @lurkingsparrow @faithalsip09 @cwallace02sblog @animaloversammy @peachiesnsilk @libbyaller @juiceboxfullofslime @libra-2409 @heidiland05 @evansorry @caraxes-syrax

[the-apprentice-lia]

“to being sold directly as a pair to the capitol”??? AYO?? like in real life and not in video??? nebula the cruel and brilliant woman that you are 😭

I’m so curious. If the rebellion had never happened, do you think Haymitch’s kids would’ve eventually been reaped the way Ampert was or were their parents succeeding in making them so beloved that the Capitol wouldn’t have wanted that to happen to them And if they were reaped, how do you think each child would’ve gotten on within the hunger games themselves?

So it’s pretty heavily implied that Everest would’ve eventually been reaped. However, I think this is less about killing him and more about the psychological aspect of making Y/N and Haymitch watch their child suffer both during and after the games. It’s a very different punishment. The gamemakers would have to make sure he was the victor.

I do think only Everest was going to be reaped, but Arista would’ve worked in the Capitol as a stylist.

The timing of Daisy’s conception was to #1 prevent them from running as Everest approached reaping age and #2 to distract Y/N and Haymitch from what Snow was doing to finalize the transition between them being forced to be filmed together, to being sold as a pair directly to citizens of the Capitol.

So Daisy was most useful to Snow for the distraction she caused, she would’ve ended up wherever it most benefited him at the time. But I don’t think that would’ve been in the games.

[the-apprentice-lia]

Hi, Haymitch

Summary: the family is all together and ready to teach Haymitch a new game. Short, fluffy and spoiler free, set post epilogue, Moves & Countermoves universe.

“We should play another game.”

“No more board games.”

“I know a game,” Everest says. “Everybody up, off the couch.”

There is a collective groan as the adults rise to their feet. The children are much more lively, humming with excitement.

“We used to play with our teachers at university, it��ll be fun.” Everest insists.

“Ok.”

“So, Dad, all you do is sit in the chair, but you can’t look at us.”

“Why am I getting put on the spot?” Haymitch plops down in the dining chair, facing away from his family.

“Because you’re the most fun.” Everest pats his shoulder. “Now close your eyes and one by one we’re going to say ‘hi, Haymitch,’ and you have to guess who it is.”

“Why are you calling me Haymitch?” What happened to dad? Grandpa? Uncle Haymitch?

“So we don’t give away who it is,” Arista explains.

“That’s Arista.” Haymitch says.

“We didn’t start yet!”

Pollux excuses himself, back to the sofa.

“That’s Madge.” He announces, anyway.

“Alright, get in line. We’re starting.”

“Katniss.”

“Doesn’t count, Haymitch!”

Haymitch chuckles, “who’s first?”

There is a moment of hushed whispers as they assemble. A pair of little feet shuffle up behind him.

“Hi, Haymitch.”

One of Madge’s twins…

“This is cheating,” Haymitch laughs.

“It’s not cheating, Uncle Haymitch. This is how you play the game.” The same voice tells him.

“Pippa.” He knows for certain.

“You gave it away!” A second voice groans.

And that’s, “Polly.”

The girl, with Madge’s pout and Pollux’s strawberry tinted locks, throws herself onto the couch beside her father. Signing her distaste to him.

“I know what you’re saying!” Pippa swats at her.

‘It’s just a game.’ Pollux reminds them. A daughter on either side. He looks to Madge.

She keeps the line moving, “hi, Haymitch.”

“Madge?” Haymitch ticks a finger against his lips. “Maybe not, sounded a little too happy to see me. One more time?”

“Hi, Haymitch.” She’s not as enthusiastic the second time.

“It was Madge.”

They don’t tell him whether he’s right or wrong.

“Hi, Haymitch.”

Baby girl. “Arista.”

“Hi, Gr-Haymitch!” The child corrects themself.

“Rye.” Haymitch grins. Katniss and Peeta’s son.

Still, no one tells him if he’s correct.

“Hi, Haymitch.” A giggle follows.

That’s my, “Daisy May.”

She skips off happily.

“Hi, Haymitch.”

Little sweetheart. “Willow.”

“Hi, Haymitch.”

This is getting harder. “Uh…Everest or Peeta?”

A round of laughter.

“Try again,” Y/N insists.

Any hope he has of decoding who she’s speaking to by the tone of her own voice is squashed. Could go either way.

“Hi, Haymitch.”

Haymitch lifts a shoulder, “probably, Peeta. If that is you, Everest, I love you, son. Forgive me.”

Everest smiles as he exits the line, proud that he’s finally been able to stump him.

“Hi, Haymitch.” A new voice drawls.

“Katniss.” Sweetheart.

“Hi, Haymitch.”

“Peeta again, or Everest the first time.”

“No switching answers.” Polly scolds.

Haymitch laughs, shaking his head. “Peeta.”

“Hi, Haymitch.”

That voice, her voice. He would know it anywhere. “Y/N.”

“Hi, Haymitch.”

There is only one person it could be. “Hi, August.”

“I almost called you dad,” the little boy whispers.

“Good.” I love being your dad.

“Ok, now Grandma sit in the chair.” Rye says, staring up at Y/N like she placed every star in the sky by hand.

“No, she’ll be too good.” Willow argues, “we need Pollux to do it.”

‘I know who’s who.’ Pollux assures her.

“Prove it.”

[the-apprentice-lia]

Exile (Part 7)

Summary: Y/N Undersee thought the games were over after becoming a victor. Unfortunately, life outside the arena has become just as dangerous. Prequel to Moves & Countermoves

Trigger warning: forced prostitution, explicit sexual content, alcohol abuse and other mentions of trauma. 18+ ONLY

SOTR spoilers

Part 6

Y/N doesn’t know Haymitch terribly well, but she does know him better than most. So she can tell by the look on his face that someone did have a bug in their ear. And that someone had once been very dear to him. “Haymitch, I don’t need to know everything.” She sighs.

“No, I-” he breaks off, in an attempt to collect himself. “I’ll tell you.” I’d tell you anything.

“Let’s sit.” She leads him to the couch, grabbing one of the open bottles from the coffee table and holding it out to him.

His response is caught between a snicker and a sneer. “You might want a swig or two for this one, angel.”

Y/N plops down beside him, raising the alcohol to her lips and choking down a few mouthfuls.

Haymitch accepts her offering when she holds the liquor out again. Chugging down the remains of the half empty bottle before he begins. “Back in my day, we didn’t have the pretty, well trained, ponies you did.”

The games are ever changing, more ‘show’ each year. Like the Capitol is trying to outdo itself. Even Y/N’s stay at the tribute center was less grand than the accommodations made for Maximus and Denali. “Sure.”

“Some idiot let a firecracker loose, spooked the horses and they threw us off. The other female tribute from district twelve…her name was Louella McCoy.”

‘Turns out, somethin’ like this happened before. With the McCoy’s girl.’

Haymitch feels Y/N’s hand close over his. “I tried to get to her.”

“Of course you did.”

“It happened quick.” He tells her. “Louella was gone. I wasn’t sure what would happen. They needed her for the games.” Not like back in the early days when tributes were lost before the arena. They needed four tributes from district twelve. “Maysilee told me they were going to take her body. I couldn’t let them. Not yet.”

Y/N nods, hanging off every word.

“I jumped back on the only chariot with any chance of ending up at the mansion and showed Snow what he’d done. Applauded him even.”

“I’m sure he loved that.”

Haymitch chuckles, reaching for another open bottle. “When they finally did take her, I thought it was over.”

How could they bring her back to life?

“I received a belated birthday present from the president himself.” Haymitch tosses back another swallow. “It was ‘Louella McCoy.’”

“How?” There is something sick about the inflection in his voice.

“We called her Lou Lou.”

“So if she wasn’t Louella, who was she?”

“Our best guess was a rebel’s kid out of district eleven.” Haymitch squeezes his eyes shut against the unbidden image of the girl. “They’d starved her, injected something into her face to make it fuller. They…” He can hardly bring himself to say it, “god, Y/N, I don’t even know what they did to her.”

Y/N shifts closer, wrapping her arms around him.

“They had some kid of device in her ear that controlled her.” Haymitch recounts, “Wyatt died trying to save that little girl. He didn’t even know her real name.”

‘The Callow boy died a while before she did and didn’t smell half as foul when he got home.’

“I can’t imagine they buried her.”

“I’m sorry, Haymitch.”

“What aired in the districts…they doctored it.” Haymitch tells her, “there were things that happened in that arena they didn’t want anyone to know.”

Y/N guides the bottle in his hand to her own mouth. The liquid is still foul, burning its way down her esophagus.

“You told Plutarch you wanted to break the board.” Haymitch breathes, “I need you to know that I’ve already tried. It’s not possible.”

“Maybe we just had to be on the outside.”

“Angel.”

“Maybe we have to keep playing the game for while. But I think we can do it together. We can still break the board.”

“It will take years of playing the game.” He warns, “people are gonna hate you for it.”

“People already hate me.” Y/N scoffs.

“They’re going to hate you more.”

“Then they can hate me.” She decides, “one day they’ll understand.”

“I can’t let you do that to yourself.” Haymitch argues.

“You can’t stop me.” Y/N arches a brow.

He groans, tossing his head back against the sofa. Staring up at the ceiling as he releases a disgruntled, “I’m tired, Maysilee! Your niece doesn’t listen for shit and she’s drinking up all my hooch.”

Y/N laughs, a deep belly laugh that fills the baron walls of Haymitch’s house with joy. Breathing life back into it. Making it a home. “He’s lying, Lee. He’s the one who doesn’t listen.”

“Lee?” Maysilee never struck him as a ‘Lee.’

“It’s kind of silly,” Y/N says. “When I was really little, I couldn’t remember who was Maysilee and who was Merrilee. So I called them both Lee, when I got old enough to tell the difference it was too late. The name stuck.”

“Nicknames’ll do that.”

“It’s weird sometimes…how much you miss people who’ve been gone longer than you ever knew them.”

“Yeah,” Haymitch’s mouth twitches. Love is funny that way.

“That’s why we have to break the board, Haymitch.”

Haymitch grins, passing a hand over his face. “I’m not agreeing to anything, but that was a great pitch. I’ll give you that.”

“Come on, Haymitch!” Emboldened by the alcohol, Y/N turns toward him, straddling his hips. Their noses pressed together.

He can’t help but laugh, resting his hands against her waist.

“Everyone is rooting for us.”

“This is very compelling,” he assures her.

“We can do this.”

Haymitch inhales, pulling his face away from hers, a fraction of an inch. “I will consider it.”

She’s kissing him then, hot and heavy, hands buried in his hair.

His own hands wandering, catching on a folded piece of paper in the back pocket of her pants. It falls to the floor.

Neither of them can be bothered with it.

————————————————————————

Bam!

Bam!

Bam!

Y/N rubs at her eyes, forcing them open.

Bam!

Bam!

Bam!

Someone is pounding at the front door.

Haymitch is still sleeping soundly, one arm draped over her waist.

“Haymitch,” Y/N shakes the limb, gently.

“Hmm?”

“There’s someone at the door.”

“And they can stay there until morning.” Haymitch nuzzles against her shoulder.

“Y/N!” The mayor calls, “Haymitch!”

“It’s my dad.” Y/N springs from the bed. Tossing one of the nightgowns, gifted by the Capitol, over her head. Shrugged on the matching robe.

Haymitch is slower to dress, pulling on pair of black silk shorts and button up pajama set.

In their slippers and bedhead, the victors of district twelve meet him at the door.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N demands, breathlessly.

“I’m so sorry,” her father pulls her in for a hug. “The house is up in flames.”

“What house?”

“The Carell house.”

No.

No.

No.

“They’re in the house.”

Haymitch rushes past them, taking off like a bat out of hell. Sprinting from Victors’ Village to the house at the far end of the seam.

The scene is familiar to him. The fire, everyone running either to or from it. Buckets of water that do little but fizzle in the heat.

“Are they still in there?” Haymitch asks one of the bystanders.

“Where else would they be? We ain’t all got a village to ourselves.”

I hate this. Haymitch is now the one holding someone he loves away from the flames, as they beg and scream to be released. I hate this.

The fire takes the house down to the studs, despite everyone’s best efforts. The Carell house is gone and so are they.

“Everyone please return to your homes, we are looking into this!” The mayor’s voice booms into the night air.

Onlookers scurry away from them and the shadow of death and destruction that follows. As though they are cursed…perhaps they are.

————————————————————————-

When there is nothing else to be done, Y/N and Haymitch are dismissed.

“If there’s any word, you’ll be the first to know.” Y/N’s father promises.

So they return to Haymitch’s house, locking the door behind them. In a state of shock, Y/N moves toward the nearest piece of furniture to lie down.

“No,” Haymitch steers her away from the couch. “You need to bathe, you’re covered soot.”

Y/N stares down at her hands, stained with ash and dirt. She allows him to march her up the stairs and draw her a bath.

Haymitch washes her meticulously, though he himself remains dirty. The water is black when he’s finished. So he drains it, only to fill it again. When he is satisfied, he towels her off. “Do you think you can get dressed while I shower?”

Y/N nods.

He doesn’t dare close the door between them. The distance from the bedroom to the ensuite is excruciating enough.

She’s two bottles deep when he returns, passed out on the duvet, with the evidence in each hand.

Haymitch moves them away. Glass clattering to the floor. This game is going to break your heart. She is different than him. Better. Not nearly as selfish. Oh no, my angel. This game is not for you.

————————————————————————

Haymitch wakes to the afternoon sun, the mattress is cool where Y/N had been. He sets out in search of her, finding Y/N standing at the fireplace; note in hand.

As he moves closer, Haymitch is able to make out the words etched into the parchment.

‘Burn after reading.’

Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl @ancientbeing10 @1-800-styles @l3xi3luv @lam-ila @druby2011-blog @liballer @readinginthe-am @rae-11 @champomiel @mariechristine00 @solacestyles @inky-sun @dadbodfanatic-x @sandorcleganeslutt @indigoashh @mustainelove @darkened-writer @ch3rrybutterfly @boredomquest @theladyofmanyfandomsofficial @kisskittenn @kwllakka @feeblemindedfool @oopsieikilledan @that-one-fangirl69 @just-levyy @thisisthepartwhereishutup @alixxhere @quackitys-amor @pepelachanel @lurkingsparrow @faithalsip09 @cwallace02sblog @animaloversammy @peachiesnsilk @libbyaller @juiceboxfullofslime @libra-2409 @heidiland05 @evansorry @caraxes-syrax

[the-apprentice-lia]

ah, a punch to the gut once again!!

The Star-Crossed Lovers Of District 12 (Part 3)

Haymitch Abernathy x Wife!reader

Summary: Y/N continues trying to find balance in her ‘new life’ while grappling with the loss of her memories. Implied sexual content and past sexual trauma.

Prologue | Part 1 | Part 2

Y/N spends her days going through the motions and her nights running from dreams of loved ones past.

“I can’t do this anymore, Haymitch.” She wails, pressed tightly to his chest. “I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“You’re ok,” Haymitch whispers, worry seeping into his own voice. “Shh.”

“Please help me.”

“I’m right here. I’ve got you.” Haymitch brushes his lips against her forehead. “I’ll help you, I’ll help you.”

Y/N paws at him, clinging to something that is real.

“You need to sleep, angel.” Haymitch gentles her back beneath the covers.

“I can’t, I can’t.” Y/N’s sobs are muffled in the fabric of his shirt.

“Shhh,” he hushes her. “In the morning we’ll go down to see Dr. Aurelius and get something to help you sleep.”

Her head pounds, pain radiating down her neck as she cries herself to sleep.

There’s nothing Haymitch can do but hold her. Whispering that she is safe and loved. They’ll figure this out. Massaging the back of her aching skull and wishing the pain away.

————————————————————————

Dr. Aurelius is not expecting to find Y/N in the hospital wing, Haymitch in tow, before first meal. “Good morning.”

“We need just a minute,” Haymitch says. Shooting Katniss a smile, to ease her concerned eyes, through the doorway of her room.

“Y/N.” She croaks out, anyway.

Y/N gives Haymitch’s back a pat before excusing herself. “Hi, honey. How are you feeling?”

“Good.” The neck brace is long gone. “They’re releasing me tomorrow.”

Has it been that long? “Just in time for the wedding.”

“I think it was intentional, they’re gonna broadcast it and they want Snow to see us there.”

“I’m sure we can manage that.” Y/N grins.

“Are you here to see Peeta?”

“I’m actually here to see Dr. Aurelius. I’m still having some issues.” Y/N lifts a shoulder, “I won’t be much good to anyone in a state of psychosis so-”

“Good call.” Katniss deadpans.

“I can come tomorrow though, what time do you get released?”

The corner of the girls’s mouth twitches, “they said in the morning.”

“I’ll be here tomorrow morning,” Y/N nods.

“And when you see Peeta, can you tell him that I…” Katniss breaks off, defeated.

“We’re working hard to get Peeta back to his old self. He’s responding really well to our sessions together. But it’s going to take time.” Y/N reminds her, “there’s layer to it, because of the fear conditioning.”

“Did they- do you remember if-” Katniss forces the words past her lips. “Did they torture you?”

“Once.” Y/N admits, softly. “I haven’t told Haymitch, he’s suffered enough.”

Katniss lowers her gaze, bobbing her head once in understanding.

“I realized what they were doing, how they wanted to twist and play with my mind. I knew I’d be better off dead.”

Katniss blanches.

“That was one time with trackerjacker venom. Peeta was there for months.” That poor, sweet, tortured soul. “He’s come a long way.”

————————————————————————-

Haymitch settles Y/N in Aurelius’ office, prepared to leave but she’s got a death grip on his hand. He stands beside her chair somewhat awkwardly.

“Please, sit.” The doctor motions to a second chair, a few feet away.

“I’ll stand.”

“As you wish.” Aurelius sighs, “what brings you in today?” It’s not their weekly session.

“It’s getting worse.” Y/N tells him, “I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. My head hurts all the time. Nothing works.”

“We’re more than willing to prescribe a higher dose of morphling, but Y/N has always been adamant about keeping all medications to the bare minimum.” Dr. Aurelius flips through the notes on her chart.

Y/N scrubs a hand across her forehead, “I’m still adamant. Is there nothing else we could try?”

“If I may be so bold, according to both of your accounts, prior to Y/N’s injury, physical intimacy was often used as a form of comfort and co-regulation. I would go as far as to call it psychological pain management.”

“You think sex’ll do it?” Haymitch chortles.

“Well we have to try something,” Y/N blinks up at him.

Haymitch shakes his head.

“But if that’s off the table for you, I understand.”

“I would do more for you and worse,” Haymitch grumbles. “I just don’t want to cross a line that screws up your head worse than it already is. That’s my only concern.”

“I worry about that too.” Y/N nods. “Not my head, but yours. I can’t imagine being on your side of things.” Are you in more pain than Katniss?

“Don’t worry about me, angel.”

“All I do is worry about you, because I care about you. I don’t want to lose you or hurt you in someway I don’t understand, because I tried to bash my own skull in.”

Haymitch kneels, meeting her at eye level. “You never have to worry about that. What we have, is something I never thought I could have with anyone.” Not after Lenore Dove. “You couldn’t mess it up anymore than I could, and lord knows we both did our damndest.”

Y/N rests her hand against his cheek.

“There is nothing you could say or do to change the way I feel about you. I won’t leave you alone in this.”

“Because you’ll be mine and I’ll be yours.”

Haymitch nods, “you remember that?”

“I want to remember more.” Y/N’s glossy eyes search his.

“You will,” Haymitch turns his face into her hand, kissing her palm. “You will. We have time.”

————————————————————————

When Haymitch wakes it is not to Y/N screaming, but to a hissing in his ear. “Haymitch.”

“Shhh, she’s finally sleeping.”

“Why do you think I’m yelling directly into your ear?” Madge barks.

“Madge?” Haymitch pulls the top sheet up higher around Y/N’s shoulder.

“You asked me to watch the baby so you could do this?!?” She scolds, in a whisper, “I thought you were taking her to see the doctor.”

“I did take her to the doctor and he suggested it.” Haymitch informs her.

Madge gags.

“It’s called ‘co-regulating.’”

“That’s worse somehow.”

“Listen, if it works; it works.”

Silence as Madge contemplates her next move, “I’m going to pick your children up from school in an hour, they can hang out with me for the night so she can get some rest.”

“Thank you, Madge. Best sister-in-law ever.”

“You’re welcome.” Madge storms out of the room.

————————————————————————

By the next morning Madge is in a much better mood.

Y/N looks like herself again, coming to collect the children early. “We’re going to meet Katniss, they’re discharging her from the hospital.”

“Where’s Haymitch?” Madge wonders.

“He went down to see Peeta. He told me you got into it yesterday, by the way.”

“I just want to make sure you’re ok. That’s all I care about.”

“I am,” Y/N nods. “If I’d known it was such an easy fix I would’ve-”

Madge holds a hand over her sister’s mouth, “do not finish that sentence. Ever. I’m begging you.”

Y/N laughs, moving her hand away. “Ok, ok. We’ve gotta run, but I’ll see you at the wedding, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Madge shifts between feet. “Pollux asked me to go with him.”

Y/N smiles and nods. Pollux? “I should know who that is.”

“I can reintroduce you later, but you used to work together shooting propos, before the accident.”

“I’d like that,” Y/N taps her younger sister’s chin. “See you later, Madge Pie.”

“I’m really glad to see you’re feeling better.”

“Thank you for all your help, couldn’t do this without you.”

“You’re welcome,” Madge waves her off, “and I know.”

————————————————————————-

Annie is a vision in her white gown. Finnick cleans up nice too.

Y/N and Haymitch have a perfect view of the ceremony. Everest and Arista are a few rows up with Prim and the other kids.

Daisy prefers Y/N over anyone, really and at almost six months old, she doesn’t really give a shit about the wedding. Content to be in her mother’s arms.

Annie’s dress is beautiful.

Annie’s dress is…

Annie’s dress…

Annie’s dress is different than mine.

She wants to be in it.

My dress is a prison.

‘I’m going to unzip your dress.’

Her mind is warping it, twisting it into something awful. She tightens her hold on Daisy as the floor falls away beneath her, with only Haymitch keeping her upright. “They put Katniss in my dress.”

“You’re ok,” he murmurs.

Her breath comes in short, unsteady bursts. “You know what happens in that dress.”

Of all the things to remember… Why this? “You’re not there anymore.” Not in that dress, not in that room. “You’re not there. Katniss is fine. The dress is gone.”

‘Just a little pinch.’

The scene plays out before her, in its entirety. She’s trembling; all but panting. Haymitch doesn’t move, doesn’t draw any unnecessary attention, he just holds her. He’s always holding her. Making sure it doesn’t hurt. Kissing it better when it does.

“Can’t take me anywhere, huh?” Y/N attempts a jest.

“Just breathe.” Haymitch sighs, “you don’t need to laugh it off. Not with me.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you anymore, Haymitch.”

“You won’t.” Haymitch whispers.

“I made your life hell. Snow was always punishing us; hurting me to hurt you.”

“That was not your fault.” Haymitch insists, “he had it out for me long before you.”

“Because you…” I want to break the board. “You tried to break the board.”

[the-apprentice-lia]

this had me screaming into my pillow oh my 😭

The Star-Crossed Lovers Of District 12 (Part 2)

Prologue | Part 1

Haymitch Abernathy x Wife!Reader

Summary: The rebels are coming to kill them, that’s all she knows. Disturbing imagery, potential SOTR spoilers.

Y/N jerks against her restraints, the metal clanking with her movements.

“Shut up and don’t move,” a voice hisses through the vent, near the baseboard.

“Johanna?”

“If they know you’re awake, they’ll come to your room.” Johanna warns, “you don’t want them to come.”

“We’ve gotta get out of here.” Y/N begins surveying the room. Pristine white walls, barren, save for a table in the corner, prepped with surgical equipment. Her nightlock pill is gone with her suit, leaving only a flimsy hospital gown. Shit.

“I said shut up. They’re coming.”

“How do you know?” Y/N asks, now panicking in earnest. The deafening wail that pieces her ears is all the confirmation she needs. Peeta. Despite Johanna’s warning, she calls out to him. Telling him it will be alright and that she’s there. She’s right here and there’s not a damn thing she can do to help him.

“Hey.” There is a hand resting at the base of her skull.

Out of a compulsion she doesn’t understand, Y/N lifts her head, slamming it back into the pillow again.

“Don’t do that.” The man at her bedside is not Haymitch.

“Finnick?”

“You remember little old me?” He cracks a grin, “I’m honored.”

“We used to see each other all the time in the Capitol, of course I remember.”

“That’s half true.” Finnick tells her.

“Where’s Haymitch?” She asks, pathetically.

“He’s a few floors up, with the kids. Just take a deep breath.”

“I need him.”

“Listen,” Finnick sighs, “I know you. Probably better than you know yourself right now, so believe me when I say, Haymitch is exactly where you need him to be. Taking care of your kids, they mean more to you than anything.”

“Fine,” Y/N crosses both arms over her chest. “Shouldn’t they be in school?”

“Middle of the night, mama bear.” He motions to the clock. “Go back to sleep.”

“Why are you up?” Y/N wonders.

“You’re not exactly a sound sleeper and I’m right next door. Luckily Peeta and Katniss were undisturbed.”

“Are they ok?”

Finnick cocks his head to the side, you remember more than you think you do. “Peeta attacked her, now they’re both out cold.”

“They tortured him.”

“Yeah.”

————————————————————————

Y/N goes to them the next morning, the boy and the girl, in turn.

Peeta.

She puts a face to the voice which haunts her dreams. He looks small here, curled in on himself in his hospital bed. Y/N doesn’t fight the urge to take his hand in hers.

‘Good to meet you, Katniss Everdeen, Peeta Mellark.’

Y/N wills her mind to focus, on that tiny shard of recollection which shapes a larger picture. Peeta meant something, Katniss meant something. She squeezes her eyes closed against the ache in her head.

You did this to yourself. Y/N has no one else to blame, not the rebels, nor President Snow. This suffering is a monster of her own making, to protect these people from whatever the Capitol wanted to turn her into.

I live in the Capitol designing clothing. I am very happy here.

Y/N hisses, pressing the heels of her palms against her eye sockets. Lies.

The rebels destroy everything that is good.

Lies, lies, lies!

“Get out of my head!”

“Y/N?” The boy startles awake.

“Sorry,” she apologizes, “I’m sorry.”

“Where is she?” Peeta demands, “where’s the mutt? Did she hurt you?”

“Who?” Y/N’s nervous eyes scan the corners of the room. Prepared to protect the boy against any threat.

“Katniss.”

“You used to scream for her, when we were…in the tribute center.” Y/N tells him. “I don’t think the people here want to hurt us. Sometimes I think we were reprogrammed to hurt them.”

Peeta is silent after that, mulling it over. “The star-crossed lovers of district twelve.”

The title feels significant, like it had meant something to her once. Now nothing more than an ugly reminder of all they’ve lost. “Get some rest. I’ll be back to see you soon.”

Katniss’ room is not far from his. She lies staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Katniss.” Y/N says, softly, “it’s me.”

The girl blinks in acknowledgment, her neck brace prevents her from doing much else.

“Do you want some water?” Y/N asks.

Katniss rolls her eyes, reaching for the pen and pad of paper in her lap. ‘My arms work fine.’

Y/N chuckles at the words, scrawled down. “Clearly.”

‘What do you want?’

“I assume we were close.”

‘We were.’

“Look, I don’t know what I’m doing,” Y/N admits. “I don’t know what I want. But I am trying to figure it out, and you’re a big part of that. You and Peeta.”

‘I want to see him.’

Y/N nods, “I’m sure we can figure that out too.”

‘Thanks.’

“You’re welcome.” Absently, she reaches down, passing a hand over Katniss’ hair.

The mockingjay eyes her warily.

“Sorry,” Y/N pulls away.

Katniss huffs, taking up her writing utensil once more. ‘Muscle memory. It’s a good sign.’

“I’ll see you later, ok?”

‘Don’t forget.’

“Katniss, I’m here now.” She murmurs, “I won’t forget.” Y/N returns to her room, opting for a nap. Whether it’s the nightmares or the head injury itself, her little outing was exhausting.

Tick tock. The sand is falling.

‘I don’t want to look at you!’

Tick tock. The arena flips.

‘Just a little pinch.’

Tick tock. The sand is falling.

‘We’re raising a lamb for the slaughter.’

Tick tock. The arena flips.

‘You’ll get where you’re going a lot faster if you learn to play the game.’

Tick tock.

‘I’ll do whatever it takes to stay right here with you.’

Tick tock.

‘This year’s tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors.’

Tick tock.

‘I want to break the board.’

Tick tock.

‘You never get off this train.’

Tick tock.

Tick tock.

Tick tock.

“It’s a clock!” Y/N springs upright, fighting to catch her breath. Just a dream.

“Actually, it’s an hourglass.” A familiar voice tells her.

She turns to see her district partner in all his mangled glory. The bones of his shin sticking through broken flesh, the blood sucking worm mutt attached to the opposite thigh. “Tyson.”

“Go back to sleep. I’ll take first watch.”

“You’re not real.” Tears cascade over her cheeks. I wish you were.

“You know that’s not a very nice thing to say, Y/N. He did throw his axe to give you your best chance.” Maysilee, blonde hair stained crimson. Her vocal chords visible through the gaping holes in her throat, made by the birds in the arena.

“Please, leave me alone.” Y/N closes her eyes.

“You’re afraid of being alone, remember?” Tyson coos, “climbed to the top of that stupid hill to die holding your hand, so you wouldn’t be alone.”

“I should’ve died.”

“You can’t die, remember?” Maysilee cocks her head to the side, producing a fresh trail of blood from her wounds. “It’s time for the parade.”

“What parade?” Y/N stumbles from her bed.

“Everyone will be there, chanting your name.”

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!”

The chorus of voices crescendo as she opens the door.

They line the halls, all twenty four tributes she couldn’t save. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!”

Chaff and Seeder. Cecelia, Mags and Gloss. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!”

President Snow is standing at the opposite end of the corridor, rocking a black, wooden horse.

“Oh, Horn of Plenty. One Horn of Plenty for us all. And when you raise the cry, the brave shall heed the call, and we should never falther. One Horn of Plenty for us all.”

The little boy on the horse squeals in delight as he moves slowly out of reach.

“Wait!” Y/N chases after him. “Wait!”

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!”

She runs faster and the fallen watch, with broken bodies and missing limbs, as she collides with something. Another ghost. “Ahhhhhh!”

“Shh,” the apparition hushes her, “it’s me. It’s just me.”

“Madge,” Y/N sobs.

Madge buries her face in Y/N’s shoulder.

“They took my baby.”

“Daisy’s safe.” Madge promises, “Haymitch has her.”

“No, they took him.”

Him. “Everest?” Madge shakes her head, “he’s at school.”

“I need to see him.”

“Ok,” Madge takes her hand, leading Y/N from the hospital wing to the elevator. Neither of them notice the nervous stares from thirteen’s general population. Hospital patients are rarely paraded around in their gowns.

When they reach Everest’s classroom. Y/N jabs at the access panel, until the automatic doors open. There are only three children inside, and one is hers. “Where are all the kids?”

Madge cups a hand over her mouth, directing the sound to Y/N’s ear. “District thirteen had a nasty epidemic a few years back, this is all that’s left of the children Everest’s age. I think Arista has seven kids in her class.”

The teacher watches the sisters, dumbfounded. “Mrs. Abernathy, what is the meaning of this?”

“I wanted to see my son.”

“Mom?” Everest frowns. “Are you ok?”

Y/N blinks at him, arranging her hair behind her ears and straightening out her hospital gown. “I just needed to see you.” You’re scaring him.

Everest squares his little shoulders, pushing away from the desk.

“You should get back to your lesson,” Y/N smiles.

The boy keeps moving toward her, his eyes equally parts hopeful and uncertain.

And when he hugs her, she holds him back just as tightly. Y/N is sure the life she knew in the Capitol did not exist. No longer will two worlds be at war in her mind, only this is real. If that is all she ever remembers, it will be enough.

“You are my real mom.”

“How do you know?” Y/N wonders.

“This is the way my mom hugs me.” Everest lets out a watery laugh.

Y/N pulls him closer, cradling the back of his sweet head. My baby.

“I knew you would come back.”

“I love you so much.” She doesn’t know how or why. Doesn’t remember his first words or steps, or what he likes for breakfast in the morning. But she does know that he is hers, her blood, sweat and tears. Her pride and joy. I will be your mom. In this life and every one after, please let me be your mom.

“I love you too.”

————————————————————————

The head doctor, Aurelius, holds Y/N in the hospital for psychiatric evaluation over the next two days.

“After a thorough examination, it is my finding that you are not a danger to yourself or others.” The man tells her, “we will continue monitoring the swelling in your brain-”

“What about my…episode?” What about all the dead people?

The doctor sighs, “you suffer from complex post-traumatic stress disorder.”

“Shouldn’t I stay here then, until it goes away?”

“It did not come with the injury, we can’t expect it to go with it either, I’m afraid.”

“So that’s it? I’m messed up forever?” Y/N scoffs.

Dr. Aurelius stares down at her file. “I know you don’t remember this, but you were my patient before your injury. I do not think you are ‘messed up.’ I think you found good in a world that was incredibly unfair to you. You created joy and harmony in places and people where they did not exist. You are a remarkable human being, and that is my expert opinion.”

Y/N nods, against her better judgment. “Ok.”

“These are your standard issue uniforms.” Aurelius holds out seven of the dingy jumpsuits. “We’ve washed and repaired them for you.”

“Uh, thanks.” I hate them.

“Welcome back.”

————————————————————————

Y/N paces in front of the quarters labeled ‘Abernathy.’ She raises her fist to knock, noticing the print reader as she does. Curiosity gets the best of her and she presses her index finger against it. Will you open for me?

The door slides open to reveal Haymitch, cooing at the infant in his lap. Wiggling her little toes as she giggles happily.

“Someone’s ticklish.”

Haymitch jumps at the sound of her voice, startling the child who begins to wail, immediately.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N keeps her distance, “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

Haymitch sucks in a breath to steady himself, “you aren’t. This is your place as much as it is mine. You’re allowed to be here, welcome even.”

“Thank you for saying that.”

“I didn’t know you were getting released today.” Haymitch grumbles, “I would’ve been there.”

“I know, it’s ok.” Y/N clutches her chest, suddenly damp. She thought the milk would’ve dried up by now. The baby, Daisy, continues to cry.

“Hand me a bottle.”

“Aren’t I the bottle?” She motions to her leaking breasts.

“You want to nurse her?” Haymitch’s brows furrow.

“I’ll try,” I don’t want her to cry.

“Ok,” he works the top of her jumpsuit open.

Y/N’s eyes widen at his brazenness.

“Sorry, angel.” He shrinks farther into the mattress.

“I’m not used to you undressing me yet.” Y/N waves her free hand, dismissively. Taking a seat beside him to stroke Daisy’s cheek as she nurses.

“You used to do that.”

“I know. I don’t know how I know, but I do.”

“Should’ve told me,” he motions to her chest. “I’m sure it’s been bothering you.”

“Somehow telling a rebel soldier, who may or may not have been trying to kill me that my boobs hurt wasn’t at the top of my list.” Y/N admits, “but now that we’re past that, I guess I’m allowed to tell my husband that my boobs hurt.” She lifts a shoulder, “just slipped my mind.”

“There’s a lot going on. I don’t want you to feel any pressure to-”

“There were holes in it.”

“Hmm?” The springs of the mattress creak beneath Haymitch as he repositions himself.

“My life in the Capitol,” she says, “even before you came. I tried to talk to the doctor about it once, but she told me that I hit my head when the rebels bombed the arena during the Quarter Quell. She said that trying to fill in the gaps was making the headaches worse. I think you fill the holes.”

“Me and the clones?” Haymitch raises his brows.

Y/N nods, “this one’s different. She doesn’t look like me or you. She looks like me and you. Almost like we had a baby or something.”

“Funny how that works.”

“When Madge and I were growing up, my mom wasn’t always…”

“I know.”

“So if these kids think I’m their mom, I’m gonna be there for them.” Memories or not.

Haymitch rests his hand over hers.

“And if you still think I’m your wife, then I’ll be here for you too.”

“You are my wife.” Haymitch murmurs. “You are brave, and you are selfless, and you are kind. Nothing has changed.”

“What if I did?” Y/N stares at him for a long while, willing memories to return. A joke between them, a simple conversation, even a fight would be better than this nothingness. The only part of her that appears to have any recollection of him is her stupid heart, an endless aching. Yearning for this stranger. “I do want to remember.” I want you to fill the holes.

He cups her face in his hands, mindful of their daughter between them. “For now, just be here. Stay right here with me and we will figure it out.”

Y/N swallows against the lump in her throat. “Ok.”

[the-apprentice-lia]

Ring, 1700s, with the inscription, “Many are the stars i see but in my eye no star like thee.”