She thought he didn't notice, but of course he did. The way she took a deep breath before saying his name, the way she clutched the piece of paper after Peeta volunteered. They way her voice dropped when she announced that Peeta and Katniss were this year's tributes. Haymitch knew how much Effie cared, saw that she was trying so hard to hold it together but couldn't quite manage it. It was completely obvious to him that she had a heart, and it was breaking. Her world was falling apart and as hard as she tried, she couldn't even pretend to be okay with it.
He still teased her like he always had, but now it was more to take her mind off things than anything else. He didn't want to see her upset. He'd earned a few smiles from her, but nothing like what he'd usually receive in response to his snarky remarks. He wanted to distract her, help her go back to being the superficial doll everyone thought she was, so she wouldn't get caught up in the mess of the rebellion. She was too stubborn to do that though, and in expressing her thoughts, she was putting herself in a very dangerous position. Nevertheless, he'd tried to help her in little ways; by going along with her token plan, by holding her hand to support her. By agreeing that they are a team.
However he knows none of that was enough really. Especially on the interview night, when they said goodbye to the tributes for what she thought was the last time. Just from looking at her face, he could tell she isn't like the other Capitol people. They are unhappy about the games of course, but for selfish reasons. They are angry that their victors are being taken away, that they'll never get a happily ever after from their star crossed lovers. Effie is different. She cares about them as people… as children. She wants them to be happy, for them to live the lives they deserve.
He's known her to be upset before, but this is something else. She could barely get her goodbyes out to Katniss and Peeta, and after everything they've been through, it's just too much for Haymitch to see her cry like that. He can't just stand by and watch, particularly since he knows what's coming and she doesn't. She's hurting and she's helpless – that much is clear to him. He knows exactly what that feels like and he doesn't want her to have to go through it alone.
After he'd said his goodbyes, he set out to find her. As he searched the hallways of their quarters, he thought about the bright, clueless escort who once annoyed him so much. Never thought he would miss that, but when he finally locates her, sitting on her bedroom floor, he comes to realise he would gladly listen to her nagging him every day for the rest of his life. Anything would be better than the broken woman he is now faced with. Effie looks up from her position against the wall, tears streaming down her face, hands knotted in her natural hair as sobs continue to shake her.
The sight of her makes him ache. How is this the same person that once drove him crazy? In this moment, he swears she looks as much like a lost girl as Katniss, and all he wants to do is protect her.
"Oh sweetheart, come here," he whispers, pulling her gently to her feet and enveloping her in a tight embrace.
For the first time maybe ever, she doesn't argue, doesn't resist, doesn't say anything, just clings to him desperately, breathing in the faint scent of liquor and cologne. She feels so stranded, so hopeless. None of this is right, and she has no-one else in the world to turn to. She can only accept the inevitable truth; the two children she has come to love so much will most likely die within the next few days. There is nothing she can do to fix this. Not this time around.
"It's not fair, Haymitch, it's not fair," she chokes out again and again, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt.
"I know, I'm sorry," he murmurs in response. He so desperately wants something better to say, some way to make it right. But there isn't one, and they both know that. He settles for trying to soothe her, moving his hands gently up and down her back, caressing her arms. Her shoes lay discarded on the floor along with her wig, and standing at her normal height, he realises just how small she really is - fragile in every sense of the word.
After a while, her sobs are quieted, and he stands back to look at her. Her eyes are red, tears still flowing freely from them. She drags her eyes up to meet his, and immediately draws in another ragged breath, as if preparing to break down all over again.
"Come on now, don't mess up your pretty face," he jokes hastily, trying to lighten the mood before her pain returns in full force. She smiles sadly, and Haymitch, taking this as a good sign, wipes the fresh tears from her cheeks.
"To be honest princess," he pauses, a small grin creeping onto his face, "I think you look better without all that crap on you anyway," he winks at her.
"Haymitch," she chides automatically, a familiar note of disapproval in her voice. She can't help smiling though. He is trying to help her, and his teasing does somehow manage to make her feel better. It feels like their old relationship, something she is used to, and reminds her of a time when everything was just a little bit easier.
"There we go," he says, running his hand across her right cheek, "that's the Effie I need to see. Can you keep that up for me?" he asks gently.
She nods, catching his hand and holding it there. She can feel the flame bracelet around his wrist. She knows now, that he isn't really just putting up with her, like she suspected he had been for so many years. Something has changed in their relationship, and particularly since the reaping, she's noticed he has been taking extra care to be good to her. The little glances, the times his hands linger when brushing across hers. On the train, she hadn't fully realised when he had reached out to her. She thought he had wanted help standing up, but actually he just wanted to touch her. The gentle squeeze he gave of her hand, to let her know that he was right there beside her. That she belongs with them and they are a team.
"Thank you," she says quietly. She wants to say more, but what else is there?
"Well we are a team y'know," he smiles. "Just… keep going sweetheart, and it'll all be okay."
"How will anything ever be okay?" Her voice breaks halfway through but she keeps going, determined to know what he means. In her head, she sees no possible way for this scenario to end well. At best, one of the three people she loves most will die.
"Because I promise Eff," he growls fiercely, looking her right in the eyes.
How many times has she helped him? How many mornings when his head was pounding and he couldn't even see straight, and she had taken his abuse to keep him on schedule? How many nights when he was practically too drunk to function, but she'd made sure he got to his room without injury? Even if she had been annoying as hell sometimes, she'd always kept an eye out for him, and he knows he has to do the same for her. As far as he can tell, it's been a long time since anyone has protected her, let alone comforted her, and he can't count how many people he's let down in the past. No more.
"But…" she starts, and he can already see that his previous answer won't be enough for her. But it's going to have to be, since he can't give her a real one. Before she can continue, he presses his lips to hers. It's quick, and before she can even register what's happening, it's over.
"Trust me," he breathes. Their faces are barely inches apart. She moves closer and he thinks how easy it would be to stay with her now. They would fall together in mutual need and be just that little bit more assured that someone does care. That there is a way to ease the pain and they don't have to be alone.
He can't though. It's almost midnight, and he has to go.
"Try get some sleep," He says, stepping back. She nods, beginning to wrap her arms around herself. He pauses for a moment, trailing his hand down her arm, lingering on her fingers for just a second before turning to leave.
He's on a mission now and he has to save her too.
He promised.