All she felt was his strong arms around her, then the brush of his face-the scratch of his rough beard. The brush of his hair on her forehead. She knew immediately who it was, and she didn't question why he was doing it. All she knew was she was finally free. She couldn't wait to look up into those blue eyes- even though she hadn't picked him on her "people i missed the most" list, she was happy to see any familiar face. She panicked when he had to put her down-she weakly grabbed for his neck again, feeling him now as an enmity of safety. Something she had never imagined she would see in him, of all people. The stumbling, surley, impolite ass of a drunk. But he was now. For all intents and purposes, he was as close to a savior as anyone ever could be.

"Shh, princess. I'm sorry...just gotta...put you down..." His voice sounded strained, like he was in extreme pain. He let out a mutter of a cry of pain, and she forced her eyes open. A gaping would on his side poured blood. It was deep, and ragged. Like he'd been cut with a long, blunt knife straight through him.

"Hay...mitch..." She croaked, weakly reaching her hand out for him again. He smiled gently at her, taking her hand.

"I'll be okay, sweetheart. I'll getcha outta here. Don't you wor-" He grimaced, pulling away from her to try to staunch the blood flow of his own wound. He turned back to her still grimacing, but attempting a smile. "I'm so glad they didn't beat you...i know that's not really a comfort...but..." A loud boom shook them, almost taking her off the chair, and he scooped her up again, bolting as fast as he could. They seemed to be almost to their destination-almost to safety- when a shot rang out and she was falling. All she heard was his desperate cry of pain as she hit the ground-and she was gone.

When she woke up, she was so comfortable-but so confuzed. She looked around her- the bed was plush and huge, and it felt so good to her aching bones. So good to be in an actual bed, not curled up on a cold metal floor. The walls were painted a muted gold color. Warm. Cozy. The bedspread was an antique rose color, accented with a white bottom and top panel. The lamps were an off-white color...overall the room was beautiful. It made her feel at home...

All except for the IV protruding from her arm. She remembered, then...that light in the darkness, that had pulled her from her torture...

Haymitch.

She tried to get up, tried to move, to do anything to get to him. To make sure he was alive. She was so sore...so tired...She called out, shocked at how rough her voice sounded, for anyone.

Mrs. Everdeen scurried in the door, then, trying to calm her down. "Shh...You're ok. you're ok." She offered a reassuring smile. "You're fine. You're doing so well, actually." She eased her back in to bed. Ohh...that comfortable bed... She couldn't let it take over her. She had to find him.

"Haymitch...?"

Mrs Everdeen looked up. "He's...not here...why?"

Effie started to panic...If Haymitch was gone because of her... "Is he okay?"

She offered another one of those soft smiles. "He's very serious...He's in the hospital in 13. It's not too far from here."

"Oh my god! Is he ok? What happened? What's wrong?"

"Shh, shh...he's going to be fine...its ok...Calm down. Please...They may not have hurt you for wounds, but the shocks they gave you weren't minor, please just rest for now."

She gulped, knowing that she would be given some sort of sedative if she didn't comply. "When...when can i see him?"

She sighed, thinking, then turned to her again. "In a few days, you should be able to go to 13...You should be able to see him then."

Effie resigned, the churning in her stomach slightly lessened. He was alive, at least. She hadn't been given information on his condition, but he was alive. She lie back down, relaxing and letting the warm bed's call overcome her.

The next day, when she woke up, Mrs. Everdeen was sitting a tray of breakfast in front of her on an elevated hospital-like tray. "Goodmorning, Effie." She smiled sweetly. Through all she had been through, this woman could still be kind. She sat down on the edge of the bed beside her. "Think you're ready for some news?"

Effie smiled back at her, sitting up to eat. "I think so. Please...i want to know everything."

smiled. "Well...the rebels won the rebellion." her smile faded. "At the loss of lives, of course...but..." She cleared her throat, and as if in an attempt to tell Effie, but not have her realize it, she spoke softly and quickly. "They took Haymitch off the ventilator this morning..."

Effie froze, as despite her attemps, she had heard Mrs. Everdeen's words. "V...Ventilator..."

Mrs. Everdeen nodded. "Yes...The bullet punctured his lung...and almost hit his spinal cord...He uhm...wasn't breathing on his own very well...so they did it just to be sure. He...hasn't really fully gotten awake yet..."

Effie just gulped...He had almost died...for her...to save HER...the Capitolite he acted like he hated...Other images flashed through her mind. "And his side wound?"

"Is very serious...he lost a lot of blood...they're working on fully stabilizing him. He's going to be down for a while..."

All she could think about was him at that point...how he had risked his life for her...How he acted most of the time like he couldn't stand her. But now she understood. He was guarding her...He was trying to keep her innocent to the world, but educate her on it's cruelties at the same time. She realized then, how much she owed this man. This surly ass of a drunk. That was the other thing, though. Most of the time when she was even relatively near him she smelled alcohol. But when he had had her in his arms, she didn't smell the slighteest trace of it...

As Mrs. Everdeen told her more of the rebellion, she could hardly focus through her reverie.

Four days passed, and Effie was finally cleared to go to 13. She was excited, actually. She truly wanted to thank Haymitch. To tell him she understood now...to just...see him. to make sure he was ok...

When she walked into the hospital ward, she was taken to his room by a young nurse, who was going to check on him, anyway. She was...quite taken aback when she saw him. Though his head was turned away from the doorway, she could see most of his face. He had been clean shaven days ago-no doubt from the ventilator- but now the scruff she dreamt of feeling while she was in his arms was growing back in. He was unbelievably pale, in just a hospital gown with the sheets pulled up to his neck. He had several IV's in one arm, which was wrapped in gauze to keep them from moving- the only part of his body other than his head that wasn't covered. The nurse poked and prodded at him, checking this and that. Once she finally let him rest, Effie stepped closer into the doorway. The nurse smiled up at her. "Do you need anything?"

His voice was hoarse, weak, as he replied. "Please leave me alone..."

The nurse pointed to Effie, smiling. "You have a visitor." She motioned Effie to come to him as she walked out of the room.

"...What...?" He turned his head to her, and Effie couldn't help but smile as she saw his eyes light up. "Effie."

"Hey, Haymitch." She took his hand, knowing he would try to sit up, but couldn't if he didn't have the leverage. "How're you feeling?"

"Guess there's no use in lying and saying i'm fine, huh?" He chuckled slightly. "But how're you doing...i mean..." he rolled his eyes. "You know what i mean."

"I'm fine, Haymitch...I'm fine...I really am. I was just sore for a few days. They didn't beat me...just...interrogated me...and..." She shook her head. "Nevermind that for now." She sighed, stroking the top of his hand with her thumb. "You saved my life, Haymitch...You...you almost died for me."

"If I hadn't wanted to do it, I wouldn't have." He chuckled. "You done groveling at my feet now?"

"No! Haymitch!" Tears welled up in her eyes, and she subconsciously willed them to dry. "You were on a VENTILATOR! You were DYING. You're still not in very good shape!" He just shrugged. "I know." He sighed. "But you're okay, aren't you?

"well...yes..."

"Then it's worth it."

"Let me do something. Please." "What?" He looked at her. "why? Effie, let it go."

"Haymitch! It would be bad manners not to." She smirked then, a devious glint in her eyes.

Haymitch just groaned. "Alright. Whatever, sweetheart."