I was studying for my exams when this plot merrily skip into my head. So, naturally, I had to write it out.
Chapter One
A knock sounded on his door. Haymitch ignored it, pulling the covers up his head. The sun was high in the sky, the town at the corner of District Twelve already busy with citizens haggling for a good price of whatever item they sought. But Haymitch determined to live life as his own, adamantly refused to partake in such trivialities like waking up early.
Somebody knocked twice. Still, he ignored it until the knock turned into a musical. Whoever was rapping on his door was persistent.
"You vermin!" he shouted as he pulled the door open.
A boy, about fourteen years of age stared at him wide eyed, his hand poised for another round of quirky knocks.
"Uh - hello?"
"Get off my property," Haymitch snarled.
"I beg your pardon, sir. I'm here for Mr. Haymitch Abernathy," said the boy.
Haymitch frowned. His eyes narrowed at the boy in front of him. His blue eyes looked at Haymitch expectantly, swallowing his own fear as he waited for the drunk in front of him to give an answer.
"You're looking at him," he said.
The boy wrinkled his nose in response. "Well, she did say you would smell," he muttered. "So I believe you're really him. May I please come in?"
Haymitch concluded right then that whoever the boy is, he was from the Capitol. The manners and politeness was testament to it.
"You woke me up with one hell of a knock so you might as well," Haymitch grumbled as he stepped aside to allow the stranger in. The boy grinned, his pale blue eyes looked surprisingly proud.
"It was interesting, wasn't it? I like music so it just occurred to me that maybe if - "
"Who the hell are you?"
"Oh. I'm Emmanuel Trinket."
XxX
Haymitch pinched the bridge of his nose. He had not heard the name Trinket in a couple of years. Haymitch twirled a chair around and sat on it, gesturing for Emmanuel to take a seat on the sofa.
"And how are you related to Effie Trinket?"
"I'm her nephew."
He exhaled the breath he didn't know he had been holding. He had slept with Effie once, a long time ago when they were both drunk and miserable. But even as he mentally calculated the time frame from when he had slept with Effie to what he guessed was the boy's age, Emmanuel couldn't be his. He didn't even resemble any part of Haymitch. Not a long lost hidden love child, he sighed in relief.
"My parents are dead; killed when the rebels attacked my home. Aunt Effie took me in. She's the only family I have left."
"Okay..." Haymitch started uncertainly. "So did you get lost? You're a long way away from home."
It had been two years since the rebellion and he had not seen Effie since then. He had no idea what happened to her. Haymitch thought Effie would have called but she hadn't so he assumed she was still angry with him for leaving the night the Victors' escaped from the arena. He left her alone since then, wary of incurring her wrath. The guilt for leaving her behind was still there and he thought it was better to let her heal and live her life.
"I ran away."
Haymitch rolled his eyes. It seemed like a typical thing to do for a teenager to do. He knew teenage angst all too well.
"Effie's manners too much for you to handle?" he asked snidely.
Emmanuel clicked his tongue in displeasure. "Don't speak of her that way."
Haymitch raised both his hands, palm outwards to convey that he meant no harm. The boy exhaled slowly and scuffed the pointed end of his shoes on Haymitch's floor.
"Who are you running away from?"
"Social and Family Services," he told Haymitch quietly. Haymitch's eyebrows knitted together. From what little he gleaned from the newspaper, the Social and Family Services had been set up to deal with the sudden influx of post-war orphans. He could not even begin to fathom the workings of Emmanuel's mind and why he thought coming to District Twelve was the best way to hide from the statutory board. Or why he needed hiding from them in the first place.
"Doesn't explain what you're doing at my house, boy."
Emmanuel sighed loudly, biting his bottom lip as he thought over how best to phrase it.
"I need your help, sir. Please. I don't know what else to do. Effie's in trouble. She's in a psychiatric ward at the Capitol. The family services got wind of it and found her unsuitable to be my legal guardian. Please, sir, I don't want to go back to the system. They'll send me to another family or to an orphanage. Effie's my aunt. She's my only family. My father would want me to stay with his sister."
Haymitch stared at the boy who looked close to tears but to his credit, Emmanuel managed to hold himself together. All the years that they've worked together, Haymitch never knew Effie had a brother, or a nephew. Now that he thought about it, Effie hardly talked much about her personal life. It was always those superficial topics with her – fashion, gossips, fine dining – never anything personal.
"Sir?"
"When was she admitted?" Haymitch asked, focusing on the present problem.
"About a month ago. I don't know what's wrong with her. Before she was admitted, we were robbed on our way home from dinner and .. I don't know. She became different – she got irritated easily, she scolded me a lot for messing things up. I don't think she even slept at night ever since then."
"She has nightmares?" Haymitch probed further.
"Yes, she does. I can hear her whimpering and screaming from my bedroom at night. One morning, she was preparing breakfast when she accidentally cut herself. She saw the blood and started screaming. I called the ambulance, brought her to the hospital and then… Well, they transferred her to the ward."
The frown never left Haymitch's face as he internalised the information Emmanuel was telling him.
"The family services came to the hospital and I overhead them talking about how Effie was not in any position to be my guardian. I panicked and ran away. I shouldn't have. My aunt's all alone but I – I don't want to go back."
"How'd you know to find me?"
Emmanuel gave him an odd look as though Haymitch had just asked him a stupid question.
"You worked with her," he stated matter of factly. "You're her friend."
Haymitch's eyebrows rose and disappeared into his hair line at such a simple, juvenile statement.
"She told me about you before ... before she got sick. Effie said you rescued her from prison. You were the first person I thought of," he shrugged. Then his expression turned earnest, even hopeful. "You've helped her once. You can help her again. Please, Mr. Abernathy."
"Okay, first of all, you can stop with the 'Mr Abernathy' bullshit. You can call me Haymitch. Secondly, I'm sorry, kid, I can't – I don't know how to help her."
XxX
Emmanuel looked as though he had been slapped across the face. He stared at Haymitch uncomprehendingly. Haymitch didn't think the boy had even considered the possibility of Haymitch not being able to help.
His lips started to quiver as he stared hard at the hands clasped on his lap. Haymitch fidgeted. He cannot deal with someone crying in his presence. When a tribute cried after their names were reaped, Haymitch had left Effie to deal with it since she was the one who picked their names. But Effie wasn't here.
"Come on. Stand up, we're going to Peeta's house. I don't suppose you've had anything to eat since you ran away," he mused. Emmanuel shook his head and followed Haymitch out of the house.
Within minutes of their arrival, Peeta had Emmanuel settled down with some light sandwiches and fruit juice. As he ate, Haymitch briefly updated Peeta and Katniss about the situation at hand, discussing it at the living room away from Emmanuel.
"You can't just leave Effie like that, Haymitch. We've got to do something," Peeta said worriedly.
"Yeah? Like what? Rescue her out of a psychiatric hospital? Did it occur to you that maybe she's in the hospital because she needs treatment?" Haymitch replied hotly.
"Treatment for what?" came Katniss' confused respond.
"How would I know?" Haymitch sounded irritated. He walked into the kitchen where Emmanuel was slowly nibbling on his sandwich and pulled out a bottle of wine. "Finish your food," he snarled at the startled boy.
"Maybe that's what you need to find out – what's wrong with Effie!" Peeta said as soon as Haymitch entered the living room.
XxX
Emmanuel had nodded off somewhere between District Nine and Eight. Haymitch glanced at Emmanuel's sleeping form, his head resting against the glass window of the train and fished out the silver hip flask from his pocket.
They left District Twelve that morning for the Capitol. Haymitch was still trying to figure out how he came to be on this journey when he could be at home, sleeping on his sofa with a bottle of whiskey in his hands.
Peeta and Katniss had offered to look after Emmanuel while Haymitch travel to the Capitol to see what could be done about Effie but the boy had insisted that he came along.
"Just promise me you won't let them take me away," he had pleaded before they boarded the train.
Haymitch sighed, knowing exactly what he meant. "I'll try my best. Get on the train."
"Haymitch, Haymitch wake up. The train's stopped," Emmanuel shook his arm lightly. He blinked sleepily and sat up straight, peering out of the window to find that the train had indeed stopped to refuel.
"I'm gonna stretch my legs," Haymitch announced as he walked out of the cabin.
"I'm going with you!"
The urge to roll his eyes was overwhelming. All he wanted was sometime away from the boy. They roamed around District Five before Emmanuel announced that he was starving and they settled in at small restaurant for breakfast.
"Aunt Effie will be delighted to see you," he grinned, cutting his pancake in half.
Haymitch drained his coffee and asked for a refill, throwing Emmanuel a sceptical glance. "I doubt so."
"I know she will. She told me once that she never got the chance to thank you for saving her."
Emmanuel talked as they finished their breakfast which left Haymitch to conclude that the ability to talk without stopping for breath must have run in the Trinket's blood. Haymitch nodded once in a while, but his mind had wandered off. He had no idea what he had gotten himself into. He was simply gate crashing into a problem he knew nothing about.
Disclaimer: I only claim Emmanuel Trinket. The rest of the characters are not mine. And that knock, i got the idea from People Like Us.
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