Wake Up Call

Haymitch wakes with a massive headache and a tongue as dry as sandpaper. He's in some clean clothes but wonders how that can be when he distinctly remembers vomiting.

He feels a good sized bump on his head and vaguely remembers falling off a stage.

Shrugging, he exits his compartment on the Capitol train and searches for food.

He enters the dining car and is greeted by Effie.

She makes polite small talk. He ignores her.

Haymitch walks over to the table and is served food by an awaiting Avox the moment he sits down.

Looking down at his plate he sees eggs, ham, and a pile of fried potatoes. He stares at the rest of the table and sees a tureen of fruit set in ice, a glass of raspberry juice, and the basket of rolls they set before him that he failed to notice earlier.

At that moment his male tribute enters the carriage.

Haymitch takes in his stocky build, ashy blonde hair, and blue eyes and gives him about two days, assuming he'll live through the bloodbath.

"Morning," the tribute says when he realises he's being stared out.

"Good morning, Peeta!" Effie replies cheerfully.

The tribute – Peeta – takes a seat at the table.

Effie orders a black coffee and blows at it furiously when it arrives.

"Easy! Don't blow so hard," Haymitch can't resist saying suggestively.

She looks up at him, incredulous, as Peeta suddenly finds an interest in a roll from his basket.

Effie gets up abruptly from the table and marches off someplace else.

Good.

The boy picks up the roll and pretends to examine it, looking embarrassed. Haymitch chuckles as he notices Effie pass the door, muttering something he can't hear under her breath.

As she brushes by the door, he is aware that his other tribute has entered the car too.

"Sit down! Sit down!" Haymitch says, waving her over as he is feeling in a particularly good mood this morning.

She walks over and he takes the time to see what else he is working with this year.

This one has an aura of strength and independence. Spunk, he remembers labelling her.

Her hair is in a braid and she's in a dark green shirt and trousers. Something is pinned to her shirt and when Haymitch examines it closer, it's all he can do to stop any flashbacks from occurring.

His pulse quickens and he can practically smell the exotic and poisonous flora from twenty-four years ago. He feels a pain in his hands and realises he has his nails dug deeply into his palms.

Haymitch slowly releases the tension and reaches for the bottle of vodka.

Ignoring his food, having lost all appetite at the sight of it, he pours a bit of vodka into his glass of raspberry juice before drinking it.

He continues to drink and add more vodka, doing his best to emit an air of indifference and coolness when that couldn't be further from the truth.

Just where the hell did she get that? he wonders, sneaking it a few subtle peaks when he's sure no one notices.

Because he recognises it. Would have to be completely blind not to.

"They call it hot chocolate," he vaguely notices the boy inform the girl with the pin. "It's good."