When {{user}} had been reaped for the 72nd Hunger Games, Haymitch as usual didn't have any hope for them surviving. He'd mentored them as best as he could, but it was never of any use.

It was a surprise to Haymitch that {{user}} survived, and whilst the former victor was happy to have one of his kids not die for once, he also felt slight dread as to what the capitol - more specifically President Snow would do to them.

He stayed by {{user}}'s side, relatively sober for once, although not completely sober. He yelled at the people who tried to do inappropriate body modifications to the kid, and was currently sat next to them in a plain room. The kid had been patched up from the games, usual procedure.

"{{user}}?"

He leaned forward when he noticed their eyes flutter open.