Hello ! Did you miss me ?

So Invictus is over but let me invite you to a new Friday appointment! The title from this story comes from Dylan Thomas' poem which I strongly invite you to check. I will also take this opportunity to thank Akachankami who, once again, rises up to the role of a beta!

More about the story itself… Well, by now you will have read the summary… This is a canon AU exploring the idea of Thirteen getting out of the rebellion before it can really start, which means it's a sort of CF AU.

This story will be Haymitch centric – although of course that includes hayffie is that even a question – and it will be long. I'm not telling you how many chapters because this way you know it can stop at any moment and I'm cruel with the angst XD Rest assure I am close to finishing it so it won't be left hanging as a WIP whatever happens. (I finished Invictus, give me some credits haha!)

Speaking of angst, I didn't nickname this "the angst story" for nothing so… beware, the angst is there. There will also be smut (graphic at times even if I'm no good at it, what can I say hayffie have their way of making me write it). I want it said outright that this is a Hunger Games story and that, as such, it comes with its own warning. There will be violence, there will be blood, there will be talks of prostitution and there might be deaths. This is your warning :p (but mostly if you read my other stuff, you know what to expect)

I'm really excited to start sharing this story and I really hope you will give it a chance and like it! Let me know!


Into That Good Night


Chapter 1 : Devil Take The Hindmost


"Thirteen's out."

The whiskey Haymitch had been quietly savoring in his corner of the ballroom went down the wrong pipe and he almost choked on it. He coughed it out, sparing a glare for Cinna when the stylist brutally slapped his back.

"What do you mean Thirteen's out?" he spat, taking pain to keep his voice low, between two coughing fits. "The fuck does that mean, Cinna?"

"I haven't got a clue." the stylist hissed, running a nervous hand in his hair. "I'm guessing Coin and Snow made some sort of deal. Thirteen had always been out for itself and now…"

The Capitol man was pacing back and forth… Back and forth…

Haymitch glanced around the ballroom, they were attracting too much attention. His coughing and Cinna's erratic behavior… He caught Effie's eyes at the other end of the room, all smiles and cheerfulness for the gaggle of people gathered at the Presidential Mansion for the end of the Tour… It had never taken much for them to be able to communicate in silence, she kept her act but she was clearly worried about what was going on in their corner. Around them, people were whispering…

They couldn't afford to make a scene. Not now. Not if there was any hope of salvaging this.

Not that there was any hope of salvaging this.

If what Cinna was saying was true…

If Thirteen had tossed them to the wolves…

"Calm down." he snapped, low but harsh. "The fuck does that mean?"

"It means we're on our own." Cinna said and, suddenly, it was like all fight had left him. He stopped pacing to stare back at Haymitch, looking hollow and hopeless. "It means… It means we're back to square one. Nothing is going to happen. The Games will go on and…" The stylist shook his head. "It was all for nothing."

Haymitch's eyes automatically darted to the kids dancing in the middle of the room, the kids everyone was fawning over – the kids who were both breathing.

"Not for nothing, no." he scoffed bitterly. But it was always the same, wasn't it? Victors were expendable. Always. A prop for the powerful to wave around. He had never really trusted Coin and he had never really believed in the potential success of a rebellion, it was more than his experienced pessimistic self could believe in, but… He had wanted to hope. So badly. His own fucking mistake. He should have known better. "What does Heavensbee say?"

"Every man for himself and the devil take the hindmost." Cinna quoted, waving a dismissive hand in the air. "He wants to try and save his head. He doesn't want any more contact with us."

That sounded like Plutarch. The Head Gamemaker had been ready to do the right thing as long as it benefited him. He wasn't a bad man but…

Capitols.

Finding the decent ones was becoming more and more complicated.

"He's gonna manage it too." Haymitch snorted, rubbing his eyes. Plutarch had a gift for falling on his own two feet. Like a cat. He would sell them all for his own skin or he would pretend he had been working for Snow all along. He would find a trick. A loophole. And he wouldn't look back. It might keep him awake at night for a while but being awake at night meant he was alive and Haymitch was too much of a survivor not to understand why the Capitol would take that option over ending up stringed up somewhere like Seneca Crane. "The kids?"

"Without Thirteen behind them, they're not much of a threat. And they don't know anything." the stylist hesitated. "I think they are in the clear."

It was already something, he mused. The rebellion… The rebellion had been a sweet dream: a free Panem, the possibility of a future, no more dead children… But his priority, his number one priority, had always been the kids. To get them out of the troubles he had pushed them in.

He was the one who had started the star-crossed lovers story and he would bear that responsibility. He would take the blame and shoulder the punishment that would follow. He would shield them to the last if he could.

"I'm guessing we're not." he commented, not even remotely hopeful on that front. He wasn't sure it was such a bad thing. He was tired. Tired of those games, tired of those hopeless hopes, tired of broken promises and loss…

Without really meaning to, he searched the room for President Snow. He wasn't quite surprised to find that the man was studying him while some assiduous Capitols were courting him. The man toasted him with his flute of champagne, a smug smile on his lips, and it was all he could do not to cross the room and punch the man in the face.

He toasted him right back with his half empty glass and a sneer.

It seemed to amuse Snow to no end.

Bastard.

Cinna spotted the move and let out a deep sigh. "I can't believe they did that. I can't believe they betrayed us."

He felt sorry for the stylist. Cinna was dedicated to the cause, a true idealist, ready to burn for his beliefs. Haymitch had always been a tad uneasy with the martyr tendencies he could detect in his friend, now he wished he was the same. Maybe there was some comfort to find in death if you knew you were dying for something bigger.

Haymitch was an opportunist, not an idealist.

He had seen a way to save his kids and end the Games all at once and he had jumped on it.

He should have known better than trust Plutarch's words, Cinna's big speeches and Coin's double face.

He should have listened to his guts when they had screamed at him not to believe a word that woman was saying.

"Wish I could say the same." he muttered.

°O°O°O°

He had only been alone in his compartment for two minutes when the door opened and closed quietly.

"What is going on?"

Haymitch was almost impressed Effie had held on for so long.

She had kept searching for his gaze all night and he had kept avoiding her eyes. Even when time had come to herd the team back to the train so they would be in time for the final Banquet in Twelve the next day, even when she had looped her arm around his and playfully bumped his shoulder with hers… He had remained detached, not quite answering her unspoken question. She had seemed to understand. The kids first, dealing with potential problems later.

He had known he wouldn't be able to avoid that conversation forever though.

It had been in the air ever since they had won the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games, ever since the berries and the cloud that had kept raining on their parade. He had made the choice to keep her out of the loop but she was clever and there was no way she hadn't picked up on what was going on. Had been going on.

The retributions the Districts would suffer for the unrest…

He busied himself by taking off his cufflinks, listening to the train taking speed, chasing those thoughts from his mind. There was nothing he could do about that now. If the Districts tried to revolt without Thirteen's bulk at their side… It would all calm down, he figured. It wasn't the first time Panem was unsettled and it wouldn't be the last. With time and a show of strength from Snow…

Not that he expected to still be around to see that.

He didn't know if he was surprised or not by the fact they had gotten out of the Capitol without being stopped. He had kept waiting for Peacekeepers to appear… Instead, the security team that had escorted them back to the train had been lighter than anything they had been allowed on the Tour.

He wasn't stupid enough to take it as a good sign.

It was a message and a clear one at that: they weren't a threat anymore.

"Haymitch."

He let out a deep breath and turned toward his obviously worried escort.

She looked ridiculous.

The blue dress, the blue wig, the make-up…. He didn't know how he could still feel himself twitch at the sight of her.

"It's over." he shrugged.

She frowned, confused by that cryptic answer.

"Do you mean the Tour?" she asked, a touch of apprehension in her voice.

For a second, he almost said 'us' because it would have been the smart choice… But it was too little too late now. He was pretty sure she had never done anything warranting suspicion. If they were lucky… If she was lucky she would make it through.

He was glad for the distance he had insisted on keeping now, even if it had hurt her at times, even if she had resented it… Keeping the affair casual had been the right choice. Insisting it was nothing but sex… Convincing himself it was nothing but sex…

"Sure." he said flatly. "What else?"

"You and Cinna looked agitated earlier." she insisted. "If there is something I should know…"

"No." he cut her off, taking a step closer to her. He hoped there were bugs and they were picking this up. He hoped because… He would be damned if she became a victim of his own stupidity. "Nothing you should know."

Her frown deepened and she opened her mouth again, probably to call him out on his lies. He kissed her before she could say anything. It was a hungry kiss, the better to distract her. His tongue invaded her mouth without her invitation but she resisted only for a moment before giving in, completely surrendering to it, to him.

Her wig was sticky with hairspray yet he persevered until it loosened. He tossed it aside, still kissing her. His fingers found the zipper of her dress easily and it flopped to the floor too, without either of them trying to keep it in place.

She was quick with her fingers and he soon found himself bare-chested. Her mouth roamed down his throat to his collarbone… He groaned when she bit down on it, hard enough to let him know she wasn't buying his deflections.

He fumbled with his belt, scooping her up as soon as the pants slid down his legs. He stepped out of them and got rid of his underwear while he was at it.

The bed was right there but he pinned her against the wall instead, propping her up until she locked her legs around his waist. They were brutal and rough, in a hurry to reach their release…

Habits died hard.

Her nails scratched at his back when his mouth explored the familiar hollow of her throat, traveled down to her breasts… He sucked one of her nipples in his mouth, nibbled on it just enough to get a whimper out of her… Her hips buckled and she framed his face in her hands to draw him in a dirty kiss. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging hard…

"Take me." she demanded in his ear, all sweet and husky at the same time.

He felt his blood rush down, the familiar thrill of lust she always managed to entice…

Her panties were in the way but that had never been a problem. They were all lace and frills and he simply pushed them aside. He felt her legs clench around his waist when he lined himself up with her and she let out a mewl of pleasure when he buried himself in her in one powerful thrust.

The small noises she was making only increased when he started moving.

They were making a racket, a part of his mind warned. She wasn't keeping her voice in check and every time his hips slammed down she hit the wall so hard one of the framed paintings kept shaking. Her nails were digging hard at the back of his nape, the sweat made the scratches sting unpleasantly.

She slipped her hand between their bodies, her eyes were closed, her lips parted…

She came with a raw strangled cry and slumped a little on him, pliant… After a couple of seconds, her nails released his flesh and she wrapped her arms around his neck in a parody of a hug. She whispered sweet-nothing, encouragements, filthy things nobody would have ever bet she even knew about because she was Effie Trinket and Effie Trinket was a proper lady…

He chased after his pleasure but it was evading him.

The more brutally he fucked her, the further away it went.

He gave up after a couple of minutes and rested his forehead on her shoulder.

She was uneasy, he knew, not quite sure how to act because that had never happened before and they were on uncharted territory. She slowly nuzzled the side of his neck with her nose, her nails trailing down his nape and his shoulder blade, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine.

"Do you want me to suck you off?" she asked in a purr.

He considered it, certain that if she kneeled down for him and put her mouth down there, he would come without any problem.

But he didn't think it was really about that.

"No." he muttered. "Not tonight."

He grabbed her under the ass and stepped away from the wall. She was puzzled, he could tell, but she grabbed his shoulders and let him carry her to the bed. He was gentle when he laid her down and it only confused her further because he would usually have tossed her or dropped her or…

He slowly slipped her panties off.

She instinctively parted her legs when he kneeled in front of her and he dropped kisses from her knee up her thigh to her stomach. He knew her body as well as he knew his own by that point but he never got tired of charting it, of mapping the freckles and the beauty spots.

By the time his mouth and tongue made their way to her breasts, she was getting worked up again. Her breath was short and her eyes clouded. His fingers danced on her shoulders and down her arms… She tossed them over her head, on the pillow… Usually he would have grabbed her wrists, right then he simply caressed the soft skin until he found her hands.

He was careful when he entered her and her responding gasp was shaky.

He kissed her neck, her collarbone. She tightened her grip on his hands and when she opened her eyes again, they were bright with tears. He didn't avert his gaze when he started moving.

They had never done that.

In ten years of their affair, they had never done that.

They had fucked in every possible way and then some.

They had never made love.

And it probably told her more about the situation they were in than everything he wasn't saying.

Tears rolled down her cheeks and he caught them with his tongue.

She came with his name on her lips and he followed her over the edge.

It wasn't the best climax he had ever had but it was probably the most meaningful. He tried to roll away but she wouldn't let him so he remained there, inside her, his body heavy on hers.

If she had questions, she didn't ask them.

Eventually, she let him slid to the side and gather her in his arms, not bothering to get under the sheets. He rummaged under the pillow for his knife and tossed it away as a precaution he knew wouldn't be necessary. His mind was restless and he wouldn't fall asleep that night.

She didn't get any rest either.

She curled up as close to him as she could, a small ball of a woman against his side, her knees propped against his hip, strangely vulnerable. At some point, he buried his nose in her hair and he closed his eyes, breathed her in, tried to commit the moment to memory.

He would need something good to think about when Snow would strike.


Soooooo? What did you think? I eagerly await your verdict! Let me know if you liked it and what you think will happen next :p