Haymitch came home

Haymitch came home with a vision. As much as he despised the Games and everything the Capitol stood for, Katniss and Peeta's victory made him optimistic. He felt as if he had spent twenty-four years asleep and had suddenly woken up to what looked like a good chance to turn the tables. His days looking for sponsors who could help his tributes filled him with an adrenaline that hadn't worn out yet. Everything had been perfect. From Katniss' move with the berries, to Peeta's confession, to Effie's effort to give them a good image… He almost felt like he could keep working like that for a few more years. Almost.

Part of his happiness came from the very fact that he had two fellow victors now. He wouldn't be in charge of mentoring - because, being honest, why would Peeta, Katniss or Effie even expect him to do anything other than drown himself in alcohol?- and he wouldn't be the one to deal with sponsors. After twenty four years, he could have an idea of what freedom felt like. Not that he would be free, of course. He was still part of the games, he was aware of that and he made sure to never forget. Now, however, he had the perfect excuse to isolate himself and try to make sure his liver failed sooner than it should.

All of his hopes came crashing down as soon as the Victory Tour arrived. He should know by now that he was doomed to live a farce for the rest of his miserable days. Katniss had ignited a spark among the districts, apparently, and the president was worried of what consequences it would bring. Every move they made, every word they said had to be carefully crafted so that they didn't step on dangerous waters. None of the victors talked to Effie about the danger they were in. It didn't seem necessary when she was born and raised in the Capitol. However, Haymitch knew she was smarter than se let out and he realized she spent many hours coming up with masterfully crafted speeches that wouldn't even inspire a fly to… fly.

"Katniss thinks they're cheesy" said Effie with a frown and pursed lips that made Haymitch laugh mockingly. "Haymitch, it is rude to laugh at other people!"

He rolled his eyes and sat next to her on a couch in the food wagon. It was late at night and everyone had already gone to bed except for the two of them. Effie had insisted on checking the cards she wrote to make sure they were adequate. She didn't know what it was exactly that the three victors were planning, and she decided that she didn't want to know. Having Haymitch approve of her words was the only solution she could find to her lack of information.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." He said with a shrug and a smug smile, "You make it too easy for me. Not to mention your cards really are cheesy."

"Well, what can I do? I have no idea of what it is that I am supposed to say! No, please don't tell me!" she warned him as soon as she saw he was opening his mouth to interrupt her. "Listen, the kids still have Two tomorrow, so my 'cheesy' words will be over after that. Soon enough we will be at the Capitol, enjoying the marvelous party they will be throwing at our victors. Why don't we finish our job here so we have time to relax later?" she asked with an exhausted tone.

That was when Haymitch truly paid attention to her. She was barefoot – something she never allowed him or the children to do- and her eyes were a light shade of red. To her left, placed on a small table was a cup of coffee that he was almost sure she had filled more than a couple of times.

"I think you may be trying too hard, Trinket." He frowned at her and placed the cards on the table in front of him. "Listen, this speech is already perfect, so you can already forget about it. As you so eloquently said just a few seconds ago, this damned Tour is almost over, so why don't you relax already? Have a drink, take that hideous thing of your head and just… breathe." He stretched his arms before placing them behind his head and leaning back on the couch.

Effie looked at him with disbelief written on her face.

"Really? You are telling ME to relax?" she asked in a whisper, "I've seen you and the kids plotting for days –again, don't tell me what it's about, I do NOT want to get involved- and being paranoid, yet YOU are the one telling ME to relax?"

Shaking his head with amusement, Haymitch stood up, walked up to the bar, and filled two glasses with his favorite whisky. When he sat back on the couch, he kept one glass in his hand and held the other to a stunned Effie. Seeing she didn't take it, he chuckled, placed his drink on the table and forced her to hold hers.

"Come on, Trinket. Drink with me."

With a puzzled expression, Effie looked between Haymitch and the drink in her hands for a few seconds before shrugging. The man took it as a sign and grabbed his glass, immediately taking it to his lips. Effie hesitantly raised her whiskey, taking a small sip, and made a sour face.

"How in the glory of Panem can you like that?" she asked with a disgusted expression, "It burns!"

"When you have enough glasses, you stop caring about the flavor" he said with indifference. Effie winced once more and handed him her glass.

"You enjoy it. This is definitely not for me."

He looked at her with arched eyebrows, but still took the drink from her hands. After sitting in silence for a while, Effie let out a long yawn and quickly covered her mouth with her hand.

"Don't be stubborn and go to bed already" insisted Haymitch, playfully nudging her side. "Isn't it bad manners to fall asleep here or something?"

She glared at him, knowing he was mocking her, but then simply reached out to grab her cards again.

"If you're so worried about sleep, maybe it's you who needs to go." She said without looking at him. Her tone was polite as always, but Haymitch still heard the tired ring to it. He shook his head and sank deeper on the couch.

"You know I don't sleep at night, sweet..." He said, but she wasn't listening anymore. She kept her eyes focused on the cards, but it was obvious she wasn't even paying attention now. Her eyes slowly began closing as she let out another frown and, before Haymitch could even react, she leaned against his shoulder, deeply asleep.