Inhale

There are a smear of bruises across my collarbone. Thankfully the prep team were still floating around and Blithe had managed to hide them well. She’d given me her usual simpering smile, fully aware of the source and even going as far as to comment on the suit he was wearing today.

My smile was little better than a grimace but I thanked her several times, changed quickly and left our apartment in the training centre. I wouldn’t be too missed in general at the moment. Thanks to the girl from District Twelve I was out of tributes to try and help. I felt number to that fact than I should have done. Finnick would still be in the lobby, although we no longer had anyone to save.

We had failed again. Our hopes had been pinned on the girl, Tali. She was older, stronger. She had joined Districts One and Two as planned. She'd practically masterminded their idea of using the mines to protect their supplies. She was clever, and she was strong. Katniss from District Twelve had dropped a hive of tracker-jackers on her. It had only taken a few minutes for her heart to stop, but every second was horrendous.

She woke as the creatures descended on them, too many stings to count. She was a deformed, swollen statue when the canon rang.

I'd felt sick, and was eager to leave the viewing. I would have if I hadn't caught Seeder looking at me in a way that made me feel ashamed. I owed it to Tali to stay, to see her final moments. I owed her more, she had died horribly and there was nothing more we could do. Seeder could glare all she liked, I felt vicious, she still had two tributes. Finnick's leg jitters and the tension in his jaw looked painful. Finally, there was a stage where I had had enough and against his gentle pleas, I stood.

I left the room as the Capitol citizens within gasped and cheered. Peeta had come back, sent Katniss away and been left to face Cato. A couple of the overpainted women were practically sobbing at the touching sentiment of the scene in front of them. I'd almost forgotten, Peeta had told the world he was in love with Katniss. I wanted to scoff, but the room was stifling and I was barely holding back retching as I spilt out into the courtyard and leaned heavily against one wall.

Both of the tributes from District Four were dead. I suppose that left Finnick and me in the weird purgatory of mentors once again. You had no one to root for, no one to try and gain support for. You could always throw yourselves behind another tribute, not officially, but it tended to happen especially with the more wealthy Districts. Having no tributes meant something more for several of us, this opened up Finnick's time and the wolves would be gathering, desperate for him.

That made me feel worse. It explained why he wanted to drag out this moment as long as possible, he always did and would no doubt be in the lobby for much of the day. There was nothing I could do for Finnick, and he would never let me even mutter anything that may put myself at risk. The Capitol had been especially keen on handing out punishments the last couple of years.

Finnick had only told me last night about Johanna, the girl from Seven who had won the year after I had. This made it her third year as a mentor, she was the only female victor in her district so had to come back. Finnick had it on good authority that she had been requested, by some ludicrously rich Capitol man and had fought against the peacekeepers. He was sure her family were dead.

I hadn't spoken to her more than a couple of words. Although her opinion on me was clear and she spent any time looking at me with a sneer on her face. I knew why, and that very reason would pick me up in the next couple of hours. Seneca always cleared his schedule for me whenever we had lost both tributes. Officially it was supposed to bother me little, but he knew, not that I hid anything well. That was why Johanna detested me, no doubt. I was the head game makers little pet, his bit on the side. I don't know what she and others believed about it, I'd be lying if I said I didn't care.

I had faced the same option as Johanna. I had just given the right answer. And I had been lucky, with Seneca taking and holding an interest, it saved me from being like Finnick, or Cashmere.

I took care to control my breathing and pushed myself upright. I wasn't doing myself any favours looking particularly pitiful. The door not far from me opened and I dab the skin under my eyes, watching Haymitch as he took a long slug from the wine bottle. He scanned the courtyard slowly, before his eyes landed on me and I saw a sense of recognition. He said just as much, “Looking for you.”

“Why?” My voice creaks and I clear my throat, he smells of alcohol as he comes over. It's not unusual but we've not had much to do with each other. There had never been an alliance between District Four and Twelve, at least, not as far as I was aware. “I have an idea. I think,” he took another drink, “I need your help.”

“We don't have anyone left.”

“Not like that.” He grins, surprisingly his teeth are still in a good condition. “Looks like Katniss is going with the little birdy from Eleven...No, no... I have an idea I want to put forward to the game makers.”

I shook my head instantly, this wasn't the first time I'd had a request like this, “I have no say in what happens. You know that.”

“I do, I do. Not...not now anyway, it's just an idea.” I struggle a little bit before just offering him another apology, “All you would have to do is mention it to Crane.” He slurs the name. “If I say so, I'll think, get back to you.”

“Yeah, yeah sure.” It's more an attempt to get rid of him and it seems to be working.

“Best get back.” He finishes the bottle, “Peeta's just taken a nasty cut to his leg.”

“You think he'll live?” It's a coarse question, but not out of the ordinary and Haymitch shrugs at me in response. I don't know what else to say to him, his muddled request has made me even more uncomfortable than he does usually, “They're doing well though, your district.” It's nonsense, but the sort of typical small talk that exists here.

Haymitch offers his condolences for Shim and Tali- not that he remembers their names, another polite response. I thank him. He tells me he'll speak to me in a couple of days about his idea, if it's still possible. He doesn't give any more information but I nod again and smile when he vanishes back inside, the bottle balancing precariously on the edge of a marble bird feeder.

Seneca sends for me within the hour.