Author's note: If you've been reading Art and Other Distractions, you have read the abbreviated version of Haymitch and Effie's story. Don't know how long this will be. It will be quite dark as it deals with addiction, depression, anorexia, and many other facets of mental illness. I hope you like what I write.

And if I ever write something that is wrong or seems insensitive, please let me know so I can fix it. It is not my intention to offend anyone, but to showcase reality. Any comments or concerns are welcome.

Happy reading.

Grant Me Serenity

A Hayffie Fic

Chapter One

Haymitch stood from the table. "Listen, Iris, I know it's rough, but you could fix this. I know you can."

Iris looked up at her brother and shook her head. "No, I can't. I can't do it anymore. Katniss is Prim's mom. I'm just the one that gave birth to them. They have each other. It's just best..."

"I'm taking you to the hospital. You can't keep doing this to them." He put his hand under her arm and lifted her to her feet. "If you're suicidal again, this is the last place you need to be."

She blinked a few times and nodded. "I guess you're right."

"You need to fight me, Iris."

"Why? So you can feel better about yourself for locking me away in the nuthouse?"

Haymitch sighed. "You're the one who called me over here to tell me you're feeling like hurting yourself. I can't, as your brother and a counselor, keep that admission to myself. I'm taking you to a hospital." He waited until she had her shoes on and her bag and led her out the door. He sent Katniss a text to call when she got off work. "Had to use vacation time." He said.

"Sorry." She mumbled.

He reached across the console and patted her knee. "Please follow all their instructions this time. If you'd get your prescriptions filled and stick to it—"

"Yeah, I know." She pushed his hand away. "Clean living doesn't work for the rest of us, you know."

He sighed and faced forward. "Look, sis, I just want what's best for those girls, especially Prim. You haven't given her much of a chance. And she loves you. Doesn't their love matter?"

"Katniss doesn't love me. She resents me." Iris twisted her hands in her lap.

Haymitch nodded. "Maybe a little. But don't you see how she would feel that way? She was eleven when her daddy died and you went away, too. You left her to take care of herself and Prim both." He looked over. "Do you know that's why I finally quit drinking and got back to work? I was unstable, too, but didn't want those girls separated."

"Shut up, Haymitch. You don't know anything that I'm going through."

"That man's been gone seven years. Time to find a way over it."

"And you don't think I've tried?" Her voice rose louder than her normal volume, she was rather soft-spoken unless she was angry. Haymitch knew then he'd poked the bear just a bit too much.

"You want to be angry, Iris, go on and be angry, but don't you dare take it out on me. None of this is my fault." He gripped the steering wheel with both hands and went silent.

Iris gritted her teeth and stared out the other window. "The medication doesn't always work." She admitted softly.

"Then they can try something else this time." He said as he pulled into the parking lot of the hospital.

Iris was still reluctant, but did everything she was supposed to. Everything she'd done a million times before. Haymitch stayed with her until she was processed. He didn't say anything. This was old hat to them by now.

Before she was brought back, Iris hugged her brother tight. "Take care of them, Haymitch." She begged.

Haymitch held her close and said nothing. He always took care of the girls. He might as well be Dad to them.

He stepped away and walked out of the building. His phone started ringing as he started the car. "Katniss?"

"Yeah. What's going on? Is Mom okay?" There was worry in her voice.

"Checked her into the hospital." He said. He pulled out onto the highway. "She called after she got Prim to school. She was talking like she wanted to do something. I talked her down and convinced her to come here. Again."

There was a pause. "Okay."

"Look, if you and Prim want, you can come stay with me for a while."

"No, I think we're okay." She swallowed. "I think I want to petition for guardianship or custody or something. I already sign mom's name to everything. I should start signing mine. I'm an adult." She sighed. "Barely."

"You should do it. I wanted to take custody of you two forever ago, but she never let me. I just hovered close until I was sure you could handle yourself."

"You still hover." Katniss said affectionately. "And I appreciate it." She paused again. "Do you want to take custody?"

"No, I want you to. You've been doing it long enough. You know her better than me, anyway."

"Thank you. I'll go to the courthouse now and see what I have to do."

"Good." He stopped the car outside the rehab facility where he worked. "Let me know what you find out. I'll have my phone close."

"Okay. I will." She paused. Awkwardly she said, "I love you, Uncle Haymitch."

He chuckled uncomfortably. "Me too, kid." He hung up and gathered his things from the back. He stepped inside the lobby to see it filled with patients. The clinic was a residence facility, but they also did out-patient work with their clients for several months after release.

He caught sight of a slight woman with large eyes and hair to match. The dress she wore was as green as a highlighter. The shoes and makeup were the same shade. She was jittery and very thin. Most of the patients they saw were addicted to alcohol, like he had been, or other drugs ranging from pain-killers to meth to huffing paint. But he could see this woman, as tiny and malnourished as she was, was one of the people who also had some eating disorder. As jittery as she was, he guessed she was either addicted to coke or diet pills or a mixture of both. He'd been working in the facility long enough, and had been around them when he'd been a client here himself nearly two decades before, to pick out the addiction before he even consulted with them. He could see the fight in the woman as she filled out the paperwork. She wanted to beat this before it beat her.

He walked into the employee break room and clocked in. The head nurse was in there fixing a cup of coffee. Alma was her name and she ran a very tight ship, making sure anyone that needed medication got it and cracking down on the trading of drugs among the patients. If they were caught dealing, both involved were out and were only allowed one second chance, no matter how many people tried to convince her otherwise.

She'd say, "They commit to getting better or they leave my clinic. I'd rather not even give them a second chance."

"How's your sister?" She asked as Haymitch went to work making his own coffee.

He sighed. "Alive. For now. I wish mental illness were like addiction. Then she could just get over it with steps. But she refuses to stay on her meds and keep up with therapy and then she gets suicidal again." He sipped his coffee.

"At least she's still talking about it before it happens. That means she realizes she needs help." She patted his arm. "You two will be fine. So will those girls."

"Thanks. Anyone new for me to see?" They walked out to the lobby and picked up the sign-in sheet.

"Let's see. " She perused the names. "Most of these are group sessions. You have a free exam time." She pointed to the pile of intake papers. "Effie Trinket. She came here several years ago while you were dealing with your relapse. I remember the name. Anorexia and addiction to diet pills." She indicated with her head. "I think she needs a kick in the pants. And she's all yours."

He nodded and looked over her paperwork for a few minutes. "Room two?"

"Yeah, I think it's free." Alma said.

"Effie?" Haymitch called.

The jittery blonde looked up and blinked a couple times before she stood.

Haymitch held out his hand. "I'm Haymitch. Would you like to come have a talk with me?"

She looked at his hand a moment before she slipped hers into it and shook it. "Sure."

"Follow me." He reluctantly let go of her hand and walked into the next portion of the facility. He opened a door to an exam room with a number 2 on the door. He motioned to the sofa and a chair set along one wall.

Effie took a seat on the chair and sat ramrod straight.

Haymitch nodded and pulled a computer cart to the end of the sofa farthest from her and opened it up. "So, tell me a bit about yourself while this thing loads up." He wasn't very friendly most of the time, but he could feel she needed a kinder person for now.

"I'm Effie Trinket. I'm a model. I have a lot of friends in high fashion." She paused and looked down at her hands in her lap. "I collapsed on the runway last week. It was a big show. I was told that if I don't get help... I don't want to die." Tears sprang to her eyes.

Haymitch quickly handed her a box of tissues. The computer was up, so he started typing. "So you would say your problem is what exactly?"

"I take diet pills. Every time I'm hungry, I pop a pill. And every time I'm not hungry, I pop a pill. As soon as I get up, I take a pill and a glass of water. And then another pill an hour later with just enough water to swallow it. I repeat that every two or three hours until bed where I take another pill with a glass of water."

"Do you drink anything else?" He asked as he typed in all her information.

"Coffee on occasion. Cocktails at parties. Lots of cocktails. I like a good Cosmo."

Haymitch chuckled. "I'd love a Cosmo."

She sniffed and smiled. "You don't strike me as the frou-frou drink type."

"Any alcohol is my type ." He said with a self-deprecating grin. "I'm a recovering alcoholic."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I came here when I was nineteen. Went to get my degree in counseling after that. Worked hard to come here. I like the philosophy here. So I've experienced everything before. I'm not just going to talk about your problems and how to fix them because I learned about them in a classroom. I'll talk with you from the perspective of knowing how it feels to need something to keep you going. I'm here to help, Effie. I want to save your life."

She swallowed and nodded. "Thank you."

"Let me finish getting some information and we can get you admitted and get to work." He went back to the computer. He listened to her voice as she spoke in soft tones. There was a ghost of a smile on her lips at times. And others there were lines of fear and worry creasing her face into that of someone much older than 29. It tugged at his heart much more than anyone else ever did. She was so desperate for help. Most people, he supposed, were still reluctant at this step.

"Okay, Effie, I think we can get you a room set up. Let me send your paperwork through and then we can get started. I'll give you a tour of the place and a run-down of the rules."