act two , chapter six ...
where the puzzle lies !

( now playing ... children of
the damned ─ iron maiden ! )

── ✧ ──

PULLING THE OTHER FROM THE WATER WAS a task of its own, but not as difficult as possibly witnessing the unfortunate death of someone he called a friend. . . a lover. Finally getting out of the water was fifteen year old Clyde Mulaney struggling for his life while pulling Haymitch out of the water. He was frantic, immediately lying him onto the ground flat on his back. He knew that the people controlling the cannons were probably eager to pull it for District Twelve, considering that they were usually the first ones to lose. But Clyde was not letting that happen, for Haymitch had been his partner throughout the whole thing. A partner that he eventually grew to love.

There Clyde was, right next to the body of water that threw other tributes tried to drown them in. He was giving Haymitch CPR and mouth to mouth, frantic. He knew he had to stay calm for the process to work or else he would probably break bones in the process. The District Four tribute did not need to do that, especially since the Capitol already thought that he would betray the very person he formed an alliance with (even though they were already deemed star-crossed lovers in their eyes).

"C'mon, Mitch," Clyde mutters, desperately trying to get him to come back to life.

No sign of him. No sign of life in him. Clyde wanted desperately for him to live. Even if he has to die in the hands of someone else. But not Haymitch. Haymitch deserves to live. Haymitch has a family who actually wants him to come back home.

Another attempt of mouth to mouth has failed. Clyde is about to break down into tears. His hope is beginning to fade. He does CPR again trying to keep himself calm, mentally counting in his mind how many times he was doing this. He was tired from the anxiety that was running through his entire body.

Finally, the light appears at the end of the tunnel. Haymitch, laying on the ground coughs up the water that was in his lungs. He comes back to life. There is a sigh of relief, but also a smile that appears onto the fifteen year olds face. He moves the other's hair out of his face as Haymitch coughs up the rest of the water, tears of joy welling up in his eyes.

"Oh, thank god," Clyde says to him, "You're okay."

"I'm not dyin' that easily," Haymitch responds back.

It makes Clyde laugh, tears still rolling down his face as he tucks one last strand of hair behind Haymitch's ear. "You stopped breathing, I was so scared," He told him, "Your heart even gave out."

"Well, you started it up again," Haymitch replied back, "It's working now."

" It's working now. "

Those words made Clyde snap back into reality, awfully shocked by what happened. The same exact thing, the exact dialogue that Haymitch told him, Peeta had said to Katniss. He was slightly frozen in place, but a sigh of relief gave Tabby a sign that he was back in the room with them. Clyde feels his daughter's hand on his shoulder. It slightly makes him jolt. He looks down at her.

"You okay, Dad?" She asks, worry written all over her face as she finally puts her hand down.

He blinks, fully comprehending where he was now. The District Four mentor slowly gives a nod to his daughter. "Yeah, I'm okay," He answers, before looking around the room. He notices that Haymitch isn't there anymore.

"Where's Mitch?"

"Out in the hall," Tabby answers, "From the looks of it, you two reacted almost the same way. Kind of frightened me a little bit."

Clyde is quiet for a moment. He looks at the door. His eyes linger for a while as he thinks about checking on him. Peeta was his tribute to look after. And although he was a tribute, Clyde could tell that Haymitch was worried about him. Worried about Katniss, too.

"I'll. . . Be right back," Clyde says to his daughter.

As Clyde walks away, Tabby watches, worried about her father. Part of her wants to go after him, but she does not want to have to deal with Haymitch and his nonsense. The seventy-third victor stays behind to make sure that nothing else disastrous happens to their alliance.

Haymitch was right next to the door. Clyde turns his head to see him, bottle of whiskey in his hand. He has no choice but to take the bottle from him. Haymitch tried to get it back, but no luck.

"You don't need this. Not now," Clyde tells him.

"You saw the same thing that I saw back there and you tell me that I don't need it?" Haymitch asks, "I definitely deserve that bottle."

"What you need is to have a clear head, and drinking this isn't doing any good," Clyde replies back.

They're now both quiet. Clyde looks a little scared due to the look that Haymitch has given him. Usually, he would've been scared enough to give it back to him. But it's been twenty-five years. He's toughened up at least a little bit.

"Give it back."

"You'll have it back when we give them that spile. It's not gonna leave," Clyde told him.

"Since when did you grow a backbone, seaweed guy?" Haymitch asks.

"When you tried to drown me in the water," Clyde answers, before turning his back and walking through the door again, "Come on."

Clyde left Haymitch standing by the door on the hallway. The other couldn't believe that he had taken the bottle from him, and as much as Haymitch wanted to take that bottle back from him, Clyde managed to talk some sense back into him. He was the only one who always managed to do that. And he didn't miss it. Not as much as he wanted to.

Haymitch finally walks back into the room. He looks at the seventy-third victor before looking at Clyde afterward. "What did we miss?"

"Nothing much. They're walking again," Tabby answered, not even bothering to look up at the almost drunk man, "Katniss is making sure that they don't run into any more force fields around."

"Looks like night is approaching," Clyde tells him, "We need to get them that spile."

"They're at the end of the force field. It's a dome, Katniss found out," Tabby says, before looking at both of the adults, "So they're definitely going to need that spile by the time night rolls around."

"Which is why I needed you to be sober," Clyde muttered, putting the whiskey bottle down on the table, "You know how to convince people. You know how to talk."

"I can still talk," Haymitch says, almost offended.

"Not with alcohol in your breath."

Meanwhile in the arena, the District Four and Twelve alliance are talking after Katniss climbs down from the tree after her discovery. Currently in a circle, she tells them the same things that Tabby just told Haymitch. That the force field was a dome, and that they were at the end of the arena.

"It's gonna get dark soon," Finnick tells them, "We'll be safe with our backs protected. We should set up a camp, take turns sleeping. I can take first watch."

Katniss shook her head. "Not a chance."

Finnick then stands up, trident currently in his hand. He looks down at Katniss. "Honey, that thing I did back there for Peeta? That was called saving his life. If I wanted to kill either of you, I would've done it by now."

Katniss then watched as Finnick walked away from both of them, she slightly moves, looking at his trident. She then looks at Peeta.

"Why don't you get some rest?" She suggests, "I'll take the first watch."

Peeta thought for a moment. He didn't want Katniss to take the first watch. But, if he knew Katniss, it was that she was stubborn. He looks at her.

"Just for a little bit." He tells her.

The four designated their resting spot. Mags getting off of Finnick's back, Katniss sitting with her head back on the tree bark. The sun eventually falls and it is now night. She's still watching over Peeta, his eyes currently closed. Finnick sits next to Katniss.

When it's night in the arena, it's also night where they reside. Clyde sits at one of the tables in the room where they keep watch of the team. His head rests on his palm as his elbow is propped up on the table. He looks as if he's about to fall asleep. Tabby walks over to him and taps his shoulders.

"Go to sleep," his daughter says, "You need your rest."

"So do you," Clyde replies back, "I'll be fine."

"I'll keep watch. You need sleep. You haven't slept since that interview," Tabby explains, "I'll keep watch over the others."

"Tabby," Clyde starts, his voice gentle, but also firm, "I'll be okay."

Their conversation stops when they hear the music. It's where they show who was ultimately killed in the arena. Clyde is counting the tributes. It's blurring together, due to his tiredness. But the music stops, and it's quiet in the room again.

"Eight," Haymitch says, before he stands up.

He walks out of the room, Clyde's eyes are on him, trailing his steps. He looks at Tabby before he walks out of the room, catching up to the District Twelve victor. "You think you can get them that spile?"

Haymitch stops. He turns his head, looking over his shoulder. "Some things never change, do they?"

Clyde crosses his arms. "I don't believe I know what you mean," he says.

"You're following me," he states, "Following me around just like you did in the games."

Clyde remains quiet. He's not wrong. He's following him around now that he doesn't get to be a ghost of his memory anymore. He almost feels bad for following him, especially since he doesn't know where he's currently going. The District Four mentor crosses his arm, brows slightly furrow, but in confusion.

"Is that a bad thing?" Clyde asks, "Do you. . . Not want me to come with you?"

"Relax. It's not a bad thing," Haymitch answers, "You look like a lost puppy when you do, though."

"Do I?"

"Yes," Haymitch says, ". . . It's disgusting."

That was the Haymitch that Clyde knew. Reassurance along with a comment that leads to dread. For some reason, it makes Clyde fall in love with him more. It's the little pieces of Haymitch that he didn't quite understand. The pieces that he had to put together to solve. But he knew he would be solving this puzzle for another long period of time. And he didn't mind.

Clyde blinks, coming back to reality. He looks down at the ground. "Oh," he simply says.

"Oh, quit lookin' like that," Haymitch tells him, waving a hand at him, "If we wanna get this spile to them, we gotta get to them. So come on, if you're comin'."

In that moment, Clyde immediately follows behind him. The game has truly set some habits. Some of which never change, just like Haymitch said. Following behind him, arguing about the littlest of things (even though they weren't so little to him). Maybe nothing has changed. Maybe they picked up right where they had needed to leave off. Maybe the puzzle was never finished.

But Haymitch was the puzzle. And Clyde adores puzzles.