Disclaimer: None of them are mine.
Half Chances
Summary: It wasn't possible but could it really be? Could he be a father?
He remembered how his heart had stopped beating for a second, how he held his breath and stared at her almost disbelievingly.
It couldn't be. It wasn't possible. No, he wasn't supposed to be a father; he couldn't be one because the woman he loved couldn't bear children - damage to the fallopian tube, or something along the line; medical jargon confused him. At least that was what they were told, that the chances of Effie ever having children were slim.
"Are you happy?" she had asked, the tears gathering at the corner of her eyes, the news dispelling the bit of darkness she still had in her.
He nodded dumbly as he wrapped his arms around her, stroking her soft hair, kissing the top of her head, her temple, her cheeks, everywhere. He didn't know what to feel about this… miracle, not yet.
Fear came next, along with insecurities. It was staggering.
He would have a family in about four months' time, one that would undoubtedly rely on him - a family that would need his protection. He wasn't very good at protecting. He always failed. His mother, his brother, his girlfriend were testament to that.
Why would it be any different this time?
He began to withdraw into himself, drinking more than ever to quell the worry in his heart and anxiety plaguing him each day. He even avoided Katniss, Peeta and their toddler with aversion.
A child. He would have a child, someone he would carry in his arms. Such fragile little things. Wouldn't he crush his son? Or drop him accidentally? Give him something wrong to eat, make him ill? How was one supposed to know everything?
It was debilitating. He couldn't do it and he told her the same.
There were a lot of shouting, and fights and tears. "I can't be a father. I don't know how."
Effie didn't understand. She said they could work together, like they had been doing all these years. But children died all those years. How could they protect their own when they had failed so many others?
It took a lot of coaxing from her, brutal honest advices from Katniss and encouragement from Peeta before he got around. And now, he was excited. He couldn't wait for his son to be born, because he was hoping for a son. There were so many things he wanted to teach that boy. Oh, the fear was still there and he was still scared but he had Effie to guide him along.
He ran his hand along the curve of her stomach and smiled when he felt the baby kicked. She complained that the baby kept her awake. "Wait till he's born, sweetheart. You won't be sleeping."
"We'll take turns," she said and gave a huge yawn.
Haymitch tucked her under his arms and long after she had fallen asleep, he was still awake thinking about the life growing inside Effie, about the family he would soon have.
They had a jar filled with money on the mantelpiece above the fireplace. Both of them had placed bets on the baby's gender. He wanted a boy and she wanted a girl, but it didn't matter much what the gender was. The bet was just for fun.
His little boy would have Effie's eyes, he was sure of that. Maybe he would have Haymitch's temperament. That would be fun; both of them driving Effie crazy. He would teach his son all that his own father had taught him – how to cut woods, catch spiders, climb trees, and play barefoot in the meadow. He would be his father's son. He would listen when his son set his sights on a girl. Haymitch wouldn't be the best person to go to for advice but he would listen. It was his son after all.
If it was a girl, she would have Effie's smile, a hint of a dimple if you looked closely enough. She would be beautiful, just like Effie. He would treat her gently, protect her fiercely. He would kill the boy that broke his little girl's heart. He would hold her hand when they crossed the street, the same hand that would find his when there was a thunderstorm - because if she was her mother's daughter, she would be afraid of thunderstorms. It would break his heart when he had to give her away on her wedding day but if Haymitch could have it his way, he would keep his little girl by his side for as long as he could.
"If it's a girl, she would be exactly like you. Do you really think Panem needs another you running around? I don't think so. A boy would be better," he teased.
"You'll love her, anyway, Haymitch, even if she is another me. You'll see. You'll love her when she wraps her tiny little fingers round your thumb and you know what? You'll love her endlessly that you'll do anything she asked you to."
And he knew he would. If he was given a chance, he would spoil her, get her anything she wants. But it was all just dreams now.
He looked up when he felt her slip her hand in his.
"Haymitch?" she called out weakly. "I'm sorry, Haymitch. I'm so sorry."
Softly stroking her hair, he tried to stop his voice from breaking when he told her that it wasn't her fault.
Effie wasn't supposed to be able to get pregnant and that in itself was a miracle. He should have known that happiness wouldn't be handed to them on a silver platter. There had been a complication in the pregnancy and it had cost them dearly.
He didn't just lose his child that day. He lost her, as well. Effie was never the same. She blamed herself and the guilt drove a wedge between them. He drank, and she hid in their room.
The jar filled with money was such a painful reminder of what he could have had that one day, while he was semi-drunk, he made the slow trek down to the orphanage where the war orphans were housed and donated it all to them.
On his way out, Haymitch slowed down at the sight of the children playing in the backyard, their laughter and shouts strangely sounded like music to his ears, and at that moment, a boy with messy blonde hair and blue eyes happened to look up and caught his eyes. Haymitch stared at him and the boy with his thumb in his mouth cocked his head to the side curiously. Haymitch bolted out of the orphanage back to his house where he kept drinking until his vision blurred and the face of the boy faded from his mind's eyes.
Before he passed out, the thoughts that he had five months ago came back to haunt him, he couldn't be a father. At the end of the day, he still couldn't protect the people he loved.
A/N: This was partly inspired by Ed Sheeran's Small Bump. I may write another chapter in Effie's POV if i have the time after my exams.
Hope you like it! Thanks for reading.