Hunger Games fic - Reaping Day

[dimity_blue]

I'm still working on Sherlock fic, but I read The Hunger Games and the idea of this wouldn't leave me alone.

Title: Reaping Day
Author: Dimity Blue
Rating: PG
Genre: gen, angst, character study
Characters: Haymitch Abernathy
Word Count: 431 words
Disclaimer: Not mine.

Summary: Haymitch, the morning of yet another reaping day.

Reaping Day
By Dimity Blue

Haymitch opens his eyes and squints as the table, the empty glass and the empty bottle come slowly into focus. It's daylight.

He reaches out, groping his way across the table until he finds another bottle, this one full. A mouthful of liquor and he's sitting up. He lets out a belch as he pours another glassful and gulps half of it down. That's better. He can think again now.

Now.

For a brief instant, he closes his eyes as he remembers what day it is. It's reaping day. Reaping day and his presence is required on the stage.

Bile churns in his stomach, threatening to rise and he swallows it down, then chases it down with the rest of the liquor.

It's not the thought of being on stage that brings the bile to his throat. No, not that. It's the sight of Effie Trinket and those stupid bowls containing the names of all the girls and boys aged twelve to eighteen in District 12. It's knowing that two of them will be chosen to fight - to die, if Haymitch is honest - and Haymitch has to help them do it.

Not that President Snow or the Gamemakers would phrase it that way, of course. No, no. Haymitch is to mentor the chosen tributes, help them prepare for their fight to the death against the tributes from the other districts. Against those other tributes and against each other.

Through all the years since his own time in the arena, Haymitch has been grateful for one thing: that he never had to kill Maysilee Donner. Maysilee who'd been in the same district as him, the same school as him, and, in the end, the same arena. He remembers her still. Her smile, her blonde hair shining in the sunlight...her hand clinging to his as she died.

Maybe she'd been the lucky one. Her struggles ended then while his go on, year after year, as the Capitol demands its tributes and Haymitch gets to mentor the ones from District 12.

He'd tried, at first. Jayner and Seta had been his first defeat. Not that Seta had stood a chance anyway, even with a better mentor; twelve year olds rarely lasted long in the arena.

Closing his eyes against the memory of their deaths, Haymitch swallows some more liquor. Remembering them is useless. He failed them all, just as he'll fail the two chosen today.

Haymitch drinks some more, a lot more, before he gets ready and staggers off down the road towards the square. Maybe, this time, he won't even remember their faces.

The end.
16th February 2015

Comments

[vamysteryfan.livejournal.com]

Very poignant. Well done.

[dimity-blue.livejournal.com]

Thanks, Karen. I'm glad you enjoyed it.

[amedia.livejournal.com]

I can totally see this - I think you've nailed his internal POV. Well done!

[dimity-blue.livejournal.com]

Thanks, Amedia. I'm really glad it worked so well for you.

[suemc.livejournal.com]

Yes that's him, that is why he is always drunk. Have you read the rest of the stories?

[dimity-blue.livejournal.com]

Thanks, Sue. I'm reading the rest now. I've also ordered the first two films on DVD and I'm hoping they're not too graphically violent. From what I've read, they're not too bad.