Haymitch's Hunger Games.

Chapter 1.

I sit in the one of the many catacombs of District 13, watching and rewatching the footage they shot yesterday, in District 8. A spark of pride lights up inside of me as I watch it. President Coin watches me idly, waiting for my response. When I don't speak, she takes this as a sign for her to.

"Well," she says. I look over at her, my head lolling on its side, and she gives me an exasperated look.

"Well, it makes me wish I was a rebel," she rolls her eyes and I carry on.

" That's  a compliment. It's good. If it can move me, then maybe it can move those robots in District 2."

"Good," she says quickly, pursing her lips. I begin to get up but she stands up too, blocking my way.

"What?" I say, irritated. She reaches out to touch me but I pull away.

"Haymitch, you need help," she says, looking at the floor.

"With what?" I question. She looks at the liquor bottle in my hand and I grunt.

"Why?" I complain.

"She needs you," Coin mutters, pointing at the screen. I sit down and she follows suit.

"I've got you a therapist,"

"Oh for crying out l-"

" and he is going to help you to not drink," she shoots. I must have a defeated look on my face, as she calls for someone to come in. As he steps through the door, I laugh.

"Really, you're gonna have him do it?" I chuckle.

"I'm trained," he says, giving me a hard stare. I look from Coin, and then to him. Then I see Katniss's face at the door. She stares at me, with a look I can't tell if it is pity or disgust, and starts talking.

"Have you seen Gale? We're supposed to be going hunting." She says curtly, like she always does around the people who live in District 13. I look her up and down and see that she looks better than she had done previously. Her hair is no longer matted, and her face is brighter than usual, probably because she is able to go outside now. She sees me staring and narrows her eyes.

"I think he's down in the armoury with Beetee, I'll walk you out," Coin says.  I listen to them walk silently down the hallway for a few minutes before he decides to take a seat.

"So what do you want to know? How I'm feeling? How my sleep patterns been?" I mutter sarcastically.

"Haymitch what happened in your Hunger Games?" He asks, already looking tired at my clear un interest in talking to him. I'm a bit taken aback by his direct and forward question, but I don't answer.

"Haymitch if you talk about it, you may find it is easier to not drink," he tells me. I laugh loudly and blow my hair out of my face.

"I'm sure you watched them, so why do you need me to tell you what happened?" I ask, growing annoyed.

"Talking about it will help," he tells me. I laugh again at this.

"Nothing will help me," I murmur, tired. He sits up in his chair, sighs, and looks at me with an accusatory look.

"Haymitch, District 13 is in turbulent and testing times. Miss Katniss Everdeen is co-operating, and admittedly doing a good job. But you need to get better. For her."

I look in his eyes and only now do I realise that they are Seam grey. I sit up and stare straight at him. He shrinks slightly in his seat and I feel bad, but I don't back down. I search his face for all the tell tale signs of a reporter just wanting to be the first magazine to get the best story, but he genuinely looks concerned. I lean back in my chair and put my feet casually on the table.

"Ok fine, but you're gonna wanna get a pencil and paper."