Chapter One
There's No Business like Show Business
Haymitch looked on as Effie cried; this was her second year as escort to the district twelve tributes. He had been shocked the previous year when Effie had broken down at the loss of their female tribute, who was then shortly followed by the male. He blanched remembering how harsh he'd been with her last year. His only defence was that it was not the job of the escort to mourn or even to care; the darling of the Capitol should never weep over something which they endorse so whole heartedly. But weep she had.
A year on, and faced with the same situation, Haymitch realised that Effie had begun to see what so many in the Capitol refused to acknowledge. They were watching the murder of an innocent group of children, year after year, for fun! And that knowledge was eating away at her.
However a year is a long time with which to give perspective to a situation, perspective that a year ago Haymitch hadn't had the time to consider.
After the shock the sight of her tears had brought on, he felt anger. What right did she have to cry for the children she'd never bothered to get to know. The children she had selected, their names written on tiny pieces of paper, from those glass reaping balls. Only to then cart them hundreds of miles to the heart of the Capitol, a city which felt joy and the sight of children's blood.
He didn't know if the people of the Capitol even remembered why anymore. It was supposedly as a reminder of the dark days, to discourage from further rebellion in Panem but most people, Effie included, treated it as the greatest source of entertainment available.
And so that was how Haymitch lost his temper with Effie, he didn't have it in him to shout at her, it was tough as a mentor, training children only to lose them again and again and these marked the 41st and 42nd children he had sent to their deaths in the arena, but even so he couldn't let the moment pass without making a comment. "Well the odds weren't ever in their favour, were they sweetheart?" He said sadistically, mocking her Capitol accent.
She'd fled the room, tear tracks still visible on her cheeks. That was the last Haymitch saw of Effie until the victory tour six months later. As usual it was a career tribute from district two that won the games. He could see the moisture welling up in her eyes as the deaths of their two tributes were broadcast on the big screens for all to see.
When she stood and left the ceremony he gave her a moment's head start before following her. Walking through the Capitol past thousands of people all trying to get a good view of the large screens which were showing the victor speaking from the steps of the training centre.
He wasn't sure if Effie was going home or just walking to get away from the images which upset her so deeply. Deciding that she would probably head towards home, even if she broke down before she got there, he looked around and attempted to get his bearings.
Haymitch had only visited Effie's apartment once and after a minor detour due mainly to the alcohol he'd consumed during his previous visit he found himself walking in the right direction. The most direct route was through a large and beautiful park, it was one of the only green areas in the Capitol.
He cut through the wooded area hoping to be able to head Effie off before she reached home and convince her into returning to the party. While he navigated through the gloom caused by the trees he noticed a bright spot of colour, a pink flower.
His curiosity over this anomaly was quickly overtaken by realisation; it had come from Effie's dress. Haymitch crouched down to pick it up. The garish pink somehow looked much more subdued in the dappled moonlight; it was almost something of beauty. Straightening up be brushed himself and the flower off before carefully placing it into his pocket.
Now Haymitch was still, and not crunching through the twigs and leaves he could hear her, she was somewhere nearby. The soft snuffling sounds were almost, but not completely, obscured by the noise resonating from the party, which was by now in full swing, outside of the training centre.
It took him another minute to locate her in the gloom. Haymitch found her curled up on a large rock, her arms wrapped around her legs and her head buried into her knees. Her body shook with sobs.
Effie didn't appear to hear him approach, or maybe she just didn't want to acknowledge him, but either there was no response at all when he spoke her name. His voice was gentle and husky, as opposed to its usual sarcastic and antagonistic tones.
Effie finally looked up as he lowered himself onto a rock opposite hers. "I don't want to hear it Haymitch!" Despite her tears her voice was sharp and there was no sign of a break in it. "I know the odds were never in their favour as you so kindly put it, but that doesn't make it any easier, and it certainly doesn't make it right. She succumbed once more to tears, her hands knotted and fidgety around her legs.
Haymitch sighed, running his hands through his hair, returning it to its usual state of unkemptness. "I know I deserved that, more than that in fact. But please don't ever think that I don't care."
Effie snorted and gave him a sharp look. "Two children dead at our hands and you never bat an eyelid! You just drink yourself into oblivion with no thought to those poor lost souls. Why would anyone think you care?" She hurled the words at him like knives.
Haymitch flinched with every blow as though it caused him physical pain, but he couldn't help but to correct her. If she was going to accuse him of not caring then she should be in possession of all of the facts. "Forty-two, Effie, not two. Forty-two children have died at my hands." He sighed shaking his head as though trying to stop some terrible images from forming there.
He scrunched his eyes up when this proved to be unsuccessful and continued. "I wish I could tell you it gets easier, that time heals the wounds and eventually you stop feeling them. But it doesn't, and it won't."
Effie opened her eyes and felt as though she was seeing him for the first time. He did feel the pain from losing these children and sending them to their deaths. It was just buried deep within. This face was just a mask, a mask she didn't understand.
"Haymitch, why do you pretend?" She frowned at him, her cheeks still wet, although the tears has finally ceased.
He looked at her, his grey seam eyes staring into her bright blue ones. "Because I have to, and so do you." Haymitch crouched down in front of her, taking her small delicate hands into his large calloused ones.
"The games are what the Capitol wants, they're what Snow wants, and Panem is not a safe place for anyone who doubts, or questions that." He paused, contemplating the shock and confusion in Effie's eyes. "It is too dangerous to show how you feel publically. It doesn't matter if the mask only runs skin deep, Effie, you can't let them see that you believe the games are wrong! Do you understand?"
His sharp words made her shiver, how had she not seen this before. She nodded in answer to him. "Yes."
Haymitch took out the purple silk handkerchief she had presented him with for the evening and handed it to her to dry her eyes. Standing up he straightened out his clothes before helping Effie to her feet. She offered him back the handkerchief, Haymitch shook his head. "You keep it, just in case."
Before they walked back to the party Haymitch offered his arm to Effie, it was an act of solidarity and for that she would always be incredibly grateful, a sign that even though it was hard, and it would never get easier, she was not alone. Effie gave his hand a gentle squeeze of thanks as they made their way back to the training centre.
Just before they arrived Haymitch asked Effie to stop for a moment. She turned to face him and under the pretence of kissing her cheek he whispered in her ear. "The show must go on, no matter what, Sweetheart."
Moving back he looked her in the eye and she nodded, hitching a big smile on her lips. It didn't go as far as her eyes, but not one else would see the hurt there, no one else would be looking for it. Haymitch drank deeply from his hipflask as he watched Effie re-join the party, as far as anyone else knew he was just a drunk mentor and she was the happy darling of the Capitol, no one else would know these masks only ran skin deep.
Back in the present day Haymitch looked at the clock, it was 5am and neither of them had slept, day two and already both of their tributes were dead. One at the Cornucopia in the initial bloodbath, there hadn't been much coverage of that as of yet, there had been many more interesting and brutal deaths than one caused by a blunt instrument, for that small mercy, he was grateful.
Haymitch knew that there was no way Effie could stomach watching it over, and if he were being honest neither could he, sober.
The death of the second tribute had been different, brutal. Effie had gone to the bathroom when it happened. Their fourteen year old female tribute was set upon by a group of careers bearing machetes. It was slow and painful, the poor girl's pitiful screams caused Haymitch to mute the sound, not wanting the noise to alarm Effie and cause her to return and see the massacre.
After a while he heard the bathroom door unlock, he turned the television off completely, she could see it later, after she'd had some sleep.
By the time Effie got back to the lounge he was pouring them both drinks. She understood instantly what had happened and sank into the plush sofa as the tears began to snake their way down her cheeks. Haymitch finished with the drinks, downing his own before placing Effie's down on the coffee table and sitting beside her.
"Haymitch I want to see it!" She protested.
He shook his head, standing his ground. "Not right now, Effie, not until you've had some sleep and you can face it properly."
"I won't sleep, I can't!" She looked at him pleadingly.
He nodded towards the drink on the table, "I put some sleep syrup in there, you'll need to rest." He took her hands in his own, just as he had six months previously at the end of the victory tour. She gripped them tightly, taking in deep shuddering breaths.
Eventually Effie calmed enough to look at Haymitch and nod. It was an acknowledgement to an arrangement which would forevermore remain unspoken, your heart my break but the show goes on.
Haymitch gave her a small half smile. "That's my girl."
A/N: So this is my first Hayffie fanfiction, and the first fanfiction I've ever posted on here. It's a four part piece based on little moments that could potentially have happened between scenes in the books. Anyway I hope you all enjoy it and please Read and Review. Thanks.