A/N: Hey. So, I know, I should be working on Love, Humanity And All Things Worth Living For, but I felt like I needed to write this. So here you go.
Katniss's P.O.V., by the way, in a third person P.O.V.

Post Mockingjay epilogue, I think... Place it where you will.

WARNING: I do mean to keep using the word 'She' instead of 'Katniss'.

WARNING: There will be some immoderate language, so be careful.

She stared at him. Her heart compressed as she watched him suffer, but still did nothing about it. She couldn't bring herself to do it. So there he stayed, rocking himself on the ground, his head on his knees, his eyes shut tight. His mouth was a straight line, as though to keep himself from screaming.

Then she was in pain, too. Her head was throbbing, black spot were dancing in and out of her vision, and she could only barely hear what was around her. She was surprised to find minutes after the symptoms started that she wasn't going to have an episode. She wondered why she was feeling this intense pain, then, if she wasn't having an episode. Then a light bulb went off in her head.

It was seeing him in pain that set her off. It was the guilt off watching him suffer while she did nothing about it, because she knew that if she were having an episode, after Peeta had run the distance between the three houses in the Victor's Village to check on her as she had just done for him, he would've got down on his knees and helped her. He wouldn't have just stood there, waiting for someone else to solve the problem at hand like she was doing.

She was vaguely aware of Haymitch charging in to Peeta's house uninvited, crouching down beside him while she stood, her expression twisted in to an ugly grimace of pain and her eyes blank. She unintentionally watched as Peeta's mouth loosened, his head lifted, his legs straightening out. After Haymitch had helped Peeta, he walked over to her and shook her shoulders. After a few rough shakes with no result, he slapped her face softly. Then harder. Until eventually it took a full of slap.

A large clap filled the room. She shook herself out of her trance, her headache intensifying as a result of the slap. Her hearing and vision cleared as she inhaled the bold smell of alcohol protruding off Haymitch. She glared at him. His response was only an eyebrow being raised.

"What the hell, Haymitch?" She growled. No one slaps her. No one. She was ready to take her old drunken mentor down.

"Don't 'what the hell' me, girl. Not now. Not after what you did to him," he seethed, whipping his arm around to point at Peeta, who was now sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, his eyes closed as if he didn't want to see any of this. She didn't blame him.

"I didn't cause it, if that's what you mean." She was now offended. It was her who caused it? Maybe try blaming Snow.

"Not that you caused it, idiot," Haymitch's words were dripping venom. "We all know what caused it. The fact that you didn't help, is my problem."

"How was I supposed to help if I was basically having my own fit over here?" She spat.

"Well, you were obviously okay when you got over here, considering you're here, not at your own house." When she didn't have a response, he rolled his eyes. "You know, sweetheart, you really are a bitch." I opened my mouth to say something, but he continued before I could stutter out an angry response.
"You are selfish, conceited, always angry, and filled to the top with angst. You also cannot love without hurting, you are a liar, you hurt everyone around you, and, God, you're a murderer."
"Haymitch Abernathy, don't you dare pull the fucking 'murderer' card on me. You're a murderer too!" She screeched.

"Well, obviously. The only one in this room who isn't a murderer is Peeta, which brings my to a whole other point-"
"Oh, so now your bringing Peeta in to this! How the fuck does he fit in to our conversation?" She asked angrily. Oh, it was on, now.

"He fits in to our conversation because he is the one who sat through all your fucking shit, the one who risked his life through both Games just to save your sorry ass. The whole Games, not just the last quarter of the first one. He loves you beyond compare, yet you lied to him about loving him for sponsors and your survival! Not his.

"You selfish and conceited not only to him, but your own mother, who went in to a depression because of your fathers death. You ignored your mother like she didn't exist. When she tried to come close, you took another step back. If it's not cold for a daughter to do that to her own mother, I don't know what is. The only one you could love was Prim, and now she's dead.

"She's dead because of the one you 'love'. Gale. He created a bomb that the Capitol could steal and drop on your sister. All because you and Coin wanted to start a rebellion. If you would've waited just a little longer, planned better, and used your fucking brains, Peeta would've never gotten taken and Prim would be alive. But no. You had to be impatient. So know Peeta and Johanna will forever be in pain and remembering what the Capitol told them. Prim is dead. And you have become a distant, conceited, angst-filled bitch who is to bitter to help anyone because she is in her own world-"

"It isn't her fault." Peeta whispered. Both head snapped toward him. She could already feel the tears pouring down her cheeks because of Haymitch's words. Because he was right, and everyone knew it. It was the first time Peeta had spoken since his fit, and it was surprising to Haymitch as well as it was to her.

"It isn't her fault." Peeta repeated, this time looking up and glaring at the two of them. "Haymitch, leave. I need to talk to her, alone." It hurt that he wouldn't even say her name. Haymitch looked at him, heard the seriousness of his tone, curtly nodded and left without a glance at her. She took a deep breath, and faced him. He had stood up, and she was now at shoulder length with him instead of towering over him.

"It isn't your fault," he whispered to her, wiping off her tears. She slid down the wall, ignoring him once again as he slid down next to her until he was on the ground. When he was sitting, she turned, and put her forehead on his shoulder.
"Everything he said was true," she muttered with distaste. She felt him shake his head.

"Oh, it's not, you have to believe that!" Peeta said softly.

"But it is, Peeta, it is! Everything his said was true. I'm nothing. I'm nothing but a conceited girl filled with angst about everything that she caused." She heard him shaking his head, him saying how no, it wasn't her fault, but she didn't listen. She knew it was her fault. She knew she caused everything that had ruined her life. And now, thanks to Haymitch, she realized her purpose in life.

To hurt and ruin others'.