Okay, this prompt was really hard for me to come up with something. I LOVE reading about them together in Thirteen, but I'm not good at thinking of stories. Then I thought, do they have to be together in this? And BOOM an idea hit.

This is set in the same universe as my stories 'Passion Lends Them Power', and 'Dance with Me'. For the most part it is book compliant.

And sorry, yesterday's story really got me into an angsty frame of mind…

Haymitch walked out of the boy's room the heavy weight of failure sitting on him. The girl hadn't woken yet since the boy attacked her. They still weren't sure about what exactly was done to him or what this meant.

He stopped in the corridor and leaned against the wall. He felt so helpless. There was a pressure falling on him and he didn't know what he had to do to make things better.

He wasn't the optimist that's the boy's job. Well, it was. But the boy wasn't himself. He was… Haymitch hated the thought but, he'd become a mutt. He was little more than a tool, a toy, of the Capitol now.

His kids were so broken and he couldn't help them! Guilt joined his helplessness. He'd promised her to look after their kids, and he was letting her down. Again.

No one in Thirteen knew the first thing about how to fix this and Haymitch was lost. He slid down the wall and let the longing for her wash over him.

No one spared the broken man hunched over in the hospital corridor a glance.

Haymitch could picture her so clearly in his mind; her blonde hair slightly rumpled from sleep as she woke with a lazy smile, her eyes shinning back at him. That was his favourite image of her; naked, of both clothes and makeup, in her bed looking at him content. Then there were the times in her bathroom where the steam carried the faint smell of her perfume and soap to surround him in her smell. Oh he could almost smell it now.

His hands shook and the desire for a drink swept through him. It couldn't consume him thought because he was already consumed with desire to see or hear Effie again. Anything to let him know she was still alive.

"Do whatever you have to keep them safe Haymitch. The children are your first priority. Promise me. Promise me you will keep them both safe."

He'd promised.

Another promise he'd broken.

"There you are Haymitch," he heard Plutarch come to stand next to him. "Been in to see Peeta then?"

Haymitch didn't bother dignifying that with an answer and pulled himself back up to his feet.

"What's the response from the Capitol?"

"There will be public broadcast. Intelligence says it will be executions."

Haymitch felt his stomach drop. If he had to watch her get killed he didn't know what he would do.

"When?"

Plutarch checked his wrist.

"In ten minuets. I was sent to find you. Coin wants you in Command when the broadcast comes through."

The Mentor from Twelve just nodded and followed the former Gamemaker out of the hospital.

#hayffieweek #haymitchabernathy #effietrinket #district13

Haymitch soon found himself in almost the same spot a few days later. Eyes closed reliving the last moments he'd seen Effie; this time after a difficult visit with the girl.

He could almost hear her voice. He loved the way she laughed when they were away from the public or their Tributes; when they were alone; a deep natural laugh that revibrated through his body when they were pressed close. Once she even snorted and he didn't let her live that down for years.

She used to always hum when she showered. Weird Capitol tunes, but he'd been listening to them, to her, for so long he knew the tunes as well as some of Twelves.

He could hear one of them now. One of her favourites, she was always humming it, and occasionally would sing some of the words;

"There is a life about to start,
when tomorrow comes."

Haymitch's eyes snapped open. That wasn't in his head. He turned and started walking down the hall following the voice. He was surprised to find Fulvia approaching from the opposite direction and they both stopped in front to the same door.

"This is Jo's room," Haymitch commented.

"How would she know that song?" Fulvia asked, looking stunned.

Haymitch shrugged as he opened the door without knocking and entered. The singing stopped instantly.

Annie looked up from her place next Jo's bed.

"Annie, was that you singing?" Haymitch quizzed, not believing his ears.

The broken Victor of District Four smiled at him.

"Yes. Effie taught me."

Haymitch would have been more prepared for her to launch at him like mutt than that response. His legs weakened under him and he stumbled to the other chair in the room.

"What?!"

"Effie taught me and Jo songs while we were," her gaze went distant, "in our cells."

Haymitch felt like he couldn't breathe. She'd been in the cells with the other Victors?! Why wasn't she rescued then?

"Did she teach you any others?" Fulvia asked, looking a mix between excited and dread.

"A couple," the younger woman answered hesitantly.

"Can you sing them?"

"Forget that!" Haymitch interrupted. "Where was she when they came to rescue you?"

"That doesn't matter, Haymitch," Fulvia dismissed.

"Bullshit! Why wasn't she rescued with them?"

"Taken into isolation before the lights went out," came a raspy voice.

Haymitch whipped his head to look at the bed and saw Jo's unfocused eyes looking at him. She was swimming in morphine, but even then he could see pain in her eyes.

"They'd put us in isolation before the torture started. It was her turn that day."

All the fight drained out of him. It was just pure dumb luck that had prevented her from being rescued. He'd been denied her saving presence again. He withdrew within himself and it wasn't until he heard Plutarch's voice that he snapped back.

"What else did she teach you?" Plutarch pressed sounding as excited as Fulvia had.

Jo and Annie hummed a tune that Haymitch recognised. He didn't say anything, but they soon started another.

"I know that one; she used to hum it all the time. Sometimes she'd sing it in the shower."

Jo looked like that thought of him knowing that made her want to be sick. Instead she said, "There was one more, but she refused to sing the words. Said it was too dangerous if they figured it out."

Fulvia hummed a tune and Haymitch realised it was familiar too. She would only hum that one when a Tribute she'd gotten close to died.

"Yes," both Jo and Haymitch breathed at once.

"That makes 'do you hear the people sing', 'on my own', 'lovely ladies' and 'I dreamed a dream'. She was part of the Underground," Fulvia commented sadly.

"More than that," Plutarch said looking pale. "She was the informant Fantine."

Haymitch knew that name! "That was the name on her teenage fake ID." Everyone look at him surprised at that knowledge. "It's a long story."

"Fantine… If they figure out she's Fantine…" Fulvia faded off.

"What?" Haymitch pressed.

He knew he wouldn't like it, but he needed to hear someone say it.

"They will up their torture to get everything out of her they can. Then they'll dispose of her; quickly and discreetly," Plutarch said. "She has been feeding information to Rebels for over a decade. There was almost a successful assassination of the President and his eldest, Diomedes, because of her Intel."

"I never would have picked her. I mean I knew she sympathised. No one in her position or status couldn't help but sympathise."

"Jax Trinket makes more sense if she's been involved with the Underground for that long. I mean, didn't she practically raise him?"

"Yes. His code name!"

"Gavroche, of course."

The two Capitol people spoke to each other like the others weren't in the room.

"Would either of you care to speak in terms the rest of us can understand?" Haymitch snapped.

He looked over to discover that Annie had zoned off into herself, and Jo had fallen under the influence of her morphine again.

"Terms I can follow?"

"Basically, Effie Trinket has been a part of this Revolution longer than any of us here. And we'd thought getting her involved was a tactful risk," Plutarch commented shaking his head.

"Then we need to get her out of there!" Haymitch implored. "Now!"

"Coin will never approve it," Fulvia softly explained.

"She was an informant!"

"A Capitol informant," Plutarch corrected. "She will consider it something owed for her involvement in the Games."

"She was blackmailed into the Games to begin with!" Haymitch felt like he was fast approaching the end of his tether.

"Coin won't care about that. She won't approve risking more lives to get her out," Plutarch said softly.

"What if we got word to Jax; let him know her last known location?" Fulvia offered. "He could try and do something from within the Capitol. A lot of the Underground respect him."

"If she is Fantine like I suspect, she would have made it very clear that odds of living through this were not in her favour. And endangering himself and others to try and save her would be a big no."

Haymitch heard what Plutarch was saying, but his mind was playing out their last moments together in the Penthouse; so long ago now.

They lay naked in her bed tangled, the TV on low, their kids were seated on the beach watching the sunset. Haymitch could feel dread starting to rise in him. He was going to have to go soon. His fingers trailed along her spine absentmindedly.

"Do whatever you have to keep them safe Haymitch. The children are your first priority. Promise me." She propped herself up to meet his eyes, while lying on top of him. "Promise me you will keep them both safe."

"I promise."

"They have to make it," she said, resting her head on his chest again. "They have to get their happy ending." Then more softly she added, "One of us has to."

"What does that mean Sweetheart?"

She didn't answer him instead she straddled his hips and took his breath away in a searing kiss. Soon he was too distracted by her; too distracted by her moans, her eyes, the way she woke every part of body, to remember what she'd said.

It wasn't until he was loosing his mind in hallucinations from detox in the depths of Thirteen that he realised what she'd meant. She didn't expect to see the kids ever again. She didn't expect to live out the war she helped ignite. And by then it was too late for him to try and get her out too.

He didn't say anything as he stood and left the hospital room. Haymitch didn't know where his feet were taking him, and at that moment he didn't care. All he knew was that he wanted to run. Run as far away from this bleak District and the thoughts and memories that haunted him here.

But he couldn't. He had responsibilities. People were depending on him. If they stood a chance at winning this war, any chance of finding her, he had to stay in Command and help them win this. He had to help them take the Capitol as quickly as they could.

Each day that went by he missed her more and more keenly. He missed her colour each day he remained lost District Thirteen's world of grey. But he vowed he would find colour; find her, again one day. She would put the colour back in his life.

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