come on in and save me; come on

[makestheplans]

As soon as Katniss is sedated, I vanish. I kept it together in front of her, but once she's passed out I can feel myself start to crack. Heavensbee's looking at me; Prim's looking at me; I have to get out.

There's no booze in Thirteen, that's what they say. Coin's rules— but where there's a will, there's a way, and right now I need it so bad I don't care if I have to tear the entire place apart to find it. The kitchen's too obvious— but I know where there are storage closets, caches of supplies. An easy place to hide a bottle, if you had one you wanted to hide.

I push through door after door, barely hearing the noise of them banging shut behind me. The echoes are too loud in my head— Peeta screaming, hoarse and ragged with his hands wrapped around Katniss's throat; her sobs, desperate gulping gasps that only quieted when they put the IV in her arm. My own breath comes loud and sharp; my vision greys, my brain full of static, and I stagger, bracing myself against the wall with a trembling hand. The only thing that'll silence the noise is a drink. I shake my head to clear it, focusing on the door ahead.

I'm so focused on navigating I barely notice when the concrete beneath my feet changes to carpet. When the watery fluorescent light turns brighter, warmer, on the back of my neck. It's not til someone calls out behind me that I turn and realize, panic stabbing sharp in my side— I'm not where I was.

I plaster on a smile, hoping it'll hide the way I'm grinding my teeth. "Think I'm a little lost."

[Find him already in the bar or wandering the halls looking for it.]

Comments

[makestheplans]

"Safe," I mutter. "Heard that one before." She's not making any sense— no Snow, no Capitol, alright, but the only place that's true is Thirteen. "How'd we get here? How'd you get here, I just saw you a minute ago?"

She looks fine. Healthy. Something's not right, and I'm starting to feel like everything's slipping away from me. Did I imagine Peeta raving and trying to kill her? I wish I could believe I had, but my insides still feel scraped raw, and I can't pretend I don't know why.

I need to sit down; I need a drink. There's a table close by and I slouch toward it, collapsing into a chair and looking up at her flat, unimpressed expression. "Wait," I say before she starts talking. I nod toward the bottles I can see behind the bar. "Bring me one of those, and a glass. Then explain."

[burn_with_us]

Katniss doesn't care if anyone stops her or not. Haymitch probably needs the drink to get through this explanation and at least the alcohol in the Nexus is good quality and not likely to destroy his gut in one swallow.

She gets a bottle of whiskey and a glass, plunking them down on the table in front of him. "Have a drink and let me start explaining. Don't get drunk, though. I need you to focus."

[makestheplans]

I make a face at that; I've got a right to be pissed, my gut still churning and an ache starting to pulse behind my eyeballs. Any sane person would want to drink right now. They'd take any escape they could get. I remember when she came to see me after Snow announced the Quarter Quell; she knows how this feels. She's got no right to judge.

But just as I'm working up some steam over that, I remember how I left her back in the infirmary, passed out full of drugs with a red ring around her throat in the shape of Peeta's hands. Whatever's going on now, at least she's not there... and I suppose I have to be grateful for that.

She's still staring at me expectantly, waiting for some kind of response, so I gesture with the glass, hitching one shoulder in a shrug. "I'll drink slow if you talk fast," I say. It's not agreement, but right now it's the best I can do.

[burn_with_us]

It's all she can really ask for. Katniss clears her throat and tries to decide where to start. The Nexus is a tricky concept even when you haven't been drinking.

"We're in a place that's hidden from the Capitol. We don't get their feeds and they can't find us, so far as I can tell."

[makestheplans]

The first shot burns its way down my throat, and I blink away the sting, shaking my head a little. This place is already winning me over; they've got great booze.

"So far as you can tell?" I repeat, glaring. I'm giving her about to the count of thirty before I pour another shot. "How long've you been here testing that theory out?"

[burn_with_us]

"A year and change?" Katniss has sort of lost track of it. She knows she's had two birthdays since she's been here and now she's nineteen - an age she never thought she'd reach back home. It's a little weird to think that if she'd been at home, she'd be ineligible for the reaping. She would have survived, provided the rules hadn't changed again.

"Long enough to know that if they wanted to find me, they would have tried already. I don't think they'd let me live here this long without trying something."

[makestheplans]

My eyes bug out and I can tell I'm making a ridiculous face, but it's unbelievable. Over a year? No wonder she looks so different. I try to imagine it and can't— out from under the Capitol's thumb, no Snow, no Peacekeepers, no fear... for a year. It sounds like heaven. I wouldn't have come back for anyone either.

"Well shit, sweetheart," I say, running a hand through my hair and taking another drink. "Looks like you hit the jackpot. Where do I sign up?" I've got more questions, of course— tons of 'em— but the booze is working its way gently through my body, leaving me pleasantly relaxed and unhurried, and I'm not eager to leave the feeling behind.

[burn_with_us]

"You're already signed up by just being here," Katniss admits. She wonders if Haymitch knows how to function in relative freedom. His entire life, he's been under the thumb of the Capitol and he's been alive a lot longer than she has.

She looks at his glass, watching it carefully. "Go easy on that stuff, okay? You can access it here, sure, but that's good stuff. It's not trash like we used to get in 12."