Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me except the mistakes as this is un-beta'd.
A Semblance of a Life
Chapter One
Haymitch stepped out of his en-suite bathroom drying his hands and face on a towel as he surveyed the scene in front of him.
His former Escort lay sprawled, face down in the middle of his bed, naked as the day she was born. He couldn't help but muse how different she was from the woman who had tuned up on his doorstep, entirely out of the blue, over a year ago. That woman had still been a little too thin, a little too vacant behind the eyes and would've rather died than show him even a hint of the scars (both physical and mental) that the war had left her with. Now she lay sleeping, completely exposed to him and displaying proudly the harsh blemishes on her skin for what they were – testimonies of her strength and endurance. A constant, tangible reminder of whose team she was on. Had always been on really.
Haymitch pulled off his t-shirt and shoes and knelt on the end of the bed before crawling his way up her body, leaving open mouthed kisses along her back as he did so. Effie mumbled something entirely unintelligible but there was no other response.
Unperturbed, Haymitch continued to trace the crisscross markings on her skin left by the whip with his mouth. He'd only ever seen whip marks that bad once before – when the Hawthorne kid had been strung up in the square for poaching. He lingered on a particular red mark and sucked it slightly. This finally granted him a response from her:
"I'm asleep." The words were muffled by the pillow but he understood them all the same.
"Then wake up." Haymitch deadpanned right back.
He had no problem playing her little game. And there was no way this wasn't a game. Her constant moaning about how cold it was in Twelve without the manufactured weather system of the Capitol meant there was absolutely no chance she would have gone to sleep naked and without a blanket unless she wanted be woken up this way. As seduction techniques went this was not a subtle one. It never failed to work though.
"I have an early train to catch tomorrow."
A train to take her back to the Capitol. Back to her unhappy job and the 'real' life that took place at the other end of the country and far away from him and the kids.
"All the more reason. Have to make the most of tonight sweetheart." He punctuated his last words with a couple of lazy kisses to her shoulder.
She rolled over slightly onto her side and looked up at him, obvious amusement painted across her features. He was a goner then. In the quiet moments like that her beauty seemed to hit him like a swift punch to the stomach, leaving him winded. Her clear skin scrubbed free of makeup, her natural, wavy, honey-blonde hair fanned out on his pillow below them. Haymitch bowed his head into the crook of her neck and groaned. Yes, definitely a goner.
"You make it sound like you're never going to see me again. I'll be back in a few weeks for the wedding anyway."
Katniss and Peeta's wedding that was. That, that had seemed like the longest thing coming in the entire known universe was finally happening in a few weeks' time.
"Exactly, hardly seems worth it." He said, trying and probably failing to sound casual. Effie's sleepy hands started to play with his hair.
"What do you mean?"
"Why don't you just stay here?"
To this she frowned, she couldn't help it. It was about the very last thing she had expected to hear from him. Haymitch Abernathy the biggest commitment-phobe going… had he just asked her to move in with him? She must have misunderstood.
"Because I have a job." Effie answered carefully. She was unsure of the game he was playing but she supposed she would play along anyway. It was always games with them. Little games and half-truths.
"A job which you hate."
That was true enough. It was a boring, secretarial post to some man Plutarch knew. It was terribly dull and the money was awful but she knew she was lucky to even have that. Her position after the war had not been a good one. To half of the Capitol she was a war criminal that only managed to escape what would have been an entirely justified public trial by spreading her legs for Haymitch and/or Plutarch. (At least in the last year that had become partially true). And to the other half of the Capitol she was a traitor to her own people, who had thrown her lot in with the rebels and should have been left in her cell to rot.
"Which pays money that I need to live." Effie countered.
"I have plenty of money for the both of us. Half of it is technically yours anyway."
"We're not properly married."
It was Haymitch's turn to frown. He leaned closer to her and dropped a kiss to the corner of her mouth before replying in a teasing voice:
"I've got a piece of paper in the kitchen drawer downstairs that says otherwise sweetheart."
Legally they were married. They had gotten married sometime in the crazy weeks after Snow's surrender during which Coin, interim President of Panem, had decided to put on trial (read execute) anyone that had ever had anything to do with the Games. This included Effie, despite the fact she was still in hospital in pretty bad shape from the imprisonment caused by her allegiance to Katniss and Peeta and him too he supposed. Or, in other words, she had been punished for being too close to the rebels and was about to be punished again for being too close to the Capitol. Haymitch had tried talking to Coin, Plutarch had too, but to no avail. Coin was after blood.
So he'd brought the marriage licence to her hospital room along with two rebels to witness it. He'd expected a mighty fight. He'd expected to have to explain to her exactly what he was doing and why. To explain it didn't matter what she did now, she would always be an Escort to those people unless she signed this paper and then she would become a Victor's wife. Not even Coin would have the balls to go after one of those.
In fact he hadn't had to explain any of that. She had understood exactly what he was doing at once. She simply nodded her head when he told her to sign and said thank you in the sincerest voice he had ever heard her employ. She was always smarter than he gave her credit for.
Haymitch had then taken the shiny new marriage certificate and waved it under Coin's nose, telling her if she still insisted on trying to go after Effie he would make some rather unfortunate comparisons to the powers that be once again going after his family. And he'd throw in some star-crossed lovers shit for good measure. If Katniss could pull it off he was sure he could. As expected Effie was pardoned within the hour.
But then Katniss had pulled her little (very necessary) stunt at Snow's execution and all hell had broken loose. He didn't think the new government would reverse Coin's pardon but he couldn't be sure. Hence they had stayed married. And continued to stay married long after it had become clear Effie was no longer at danger of being re-arrested.
"We never had a toasting. I didn't think it counted in Twelve unless you had a toasting." She explained.
"So you'd stay if we had a toasting?"
Effie noticed he did not contradict her understanding of Twelve's marriage customs. They wouldn't be considered married there until they had a toasting. And it's not as if they had got married as some great show of affection in the first place. She knew why they had remained married originally and assumed the lack of divorce since was more to do with laziness than sentimentality on Haymitch's part.
"That's not what I meant." Effie replied, once again choosing her words carefully.
"We have bread downstairs. I could make a fire."
She was desperately trying to work out his mood. If she didn't know any better she would have accused him of having had a drink, of being downright drunk even. But he hadn't touched a drop since Katniss' trial. He couldn't do moderation – it was wither full-out alcoholism or going completely cold turkey. To everyone's surprise he'd chosen the latter.
A bubble of pride surfaced in her chest every time she thought about it. He had so many reasons to drink but somehow he was resisting. For the kids, for the renewed life he had built in Twelve and on good days she even allowed herself to think maybe he'd stopped for her too a little bit.
"We are not having a toasting tonight. We can't drag Katniss and Peeta out of bed at this hour and I'm sure there are at least a couple of other people you'd want to invite."
There were no other people she would want to invite. Everyone she was once close to was either dead or hated her guts.
Haymitch rolled his eyes at her before saying:
"A toasting isn't like that. It's just between the couple… There isn't any fancy clothes or speeches or guests."
"You mean all the things I had when we got married." She answered with an entirely straight face.
Despite the fact she was clearly joking he didn't smile. But he didn't say the obvious either – I was a little too busy saving your life. They both knew he had done exactly that.
The failed attempt of Effie's joke had highlighted the serious tone in which the conversation had suddenly taken. She began to stroke mindless patterns on his chest and arms, scratching at the skin with her long, false nails and stoically refusing the meet his eye.
"I don't really understand what you're saying."
If he wanted her here, permanently, then she needed to hear him to say it. That was of course too much to ask though, so instead she got:
"I'm not saying anything. I just don't get why you trapes back and forth all the time for a job you hate and could do without. And to go home on your own every night to miss me and the kids. And to wake up alone and scared when…"
"I'm not entirely alone." She interrupted him – a very un-Effie thing to do. "You always answer the phone."
She was referring to her frequent nightmares and the phone calls she makes to him after she has woken up confused, terrified and in desperate need to hear his voice. Somehow he always seemed to make it better even hundreds of miles away. Mostly she just needed someone to tell her she was okay, that she wasn't in that cell anymore, that no one was coming to hurt her. All things she already knew but had troubling reminding herself of in those moments. Haymitch understood nightmares better than most. Or maybe he just understood her better than most. He always knew what to say to bring her round.
"But you could wake up with me right next to you. And I could put my arms around you, make it all go away."
He kissed her collarbone as if to emphasise his point. His eyes never left her face but she still refused to meet his gaze. At last she chanced at look at him and brought her hand up to play with the stubble on his jaw.
"Can I think about it?" Effie asked timidly.
Whilst his appraisal of her life in the Capitol had been harsh it had also been true. He did have a point, it seemed a lot of effort to be constantly travelling, constantly counting down the days till her next visit to Twelve when she could just swallow her pride and be there constantly. Was it her pride that was stopping her? Moving to Twelve meant admitting failure in her attempt to rebuild her life in the Capitol after the war.
Failure admitting aside it was still a big ask; to uproot her whole life – even if it was a shitty life.
Haymitch nodded in response to her question but she could tell he was a little grumpy at her answer. She leaned up and kissed him slowly and deliberately, hoping to avoid a full-blown strop on her last night in Twelve.
"Well you've well and truly woken me up now." She purred as she watched his face pique in interest at the tone of her voice. "Are you going to do something about it or what?"
He all but launched himself at her, his mouth finding the side of her neck and devouring it. Effie's squeal of surprise echoed around the empty house. He thought it was probably about time the house got used to being filled with sounds as joyful as that. The Games were over. The war was over. They had won. At a price, a huge price, but they had won. It was about time they started to live some semblance of a life.
Note: This is my first time writing these characters so I'd really appreciate any feedback on this, particularly on characterisation. Constructive criticism always welcome. Thanks.