Disclaimer: The characters are not mine.

Warning for dark themes

Darkest before dawn

Hands roamed her body and Effie squeezed her eyes shut in the darkness of the room. The man on top of her grunted, his chest sleek with sweat and his breath smelled of tobacco. Effie shuddered and bit her lip to prevent herself from crying out.

He rolled off her and ran his hand down her shoulder to the curves of her hip where it rested as he fell asleep. The goose bumps never left her skin.

When she was sure that he was asleep and dead to the world, Effie made her way slowly to the bathroom, staggering. The spot between her legs felt sore. She retched and heaved into the toilet bowl. The bile rose up in her stomach, the metallic taste lingered in her mouth. She felt dirty and disgusted.

Each time, every time some man sullied her body, she would end up in the bathroom desperately trying to keep the contents of her stomach in.

She tiptoed out of the bathroom, the plush carpet lining up the hotel suite absorbing the sound of her delicate feet. She glanced briefly at the balding man sprawled on the bed, his ring-covered fingers lying splayed across his huge belly. Effie clutched her stomach, the disgust once again taking over her. She choked back a sob.

Quickly, she left the hotel room and made her way back to the Penthouse.

XxX

"Had a good time, sweetheart?" Haymitch barked out a harsh laugh. "Partying with your friends? Celebrating District Twelve's first volunteer?"

"You're drunk, Haymitch. You don't know what you're talking about."

She pinched the bridge of her nose. She was exhausted and she didn't want to have to deal with Haymitch. She needed a shower. Her skin was tingling and the need to scrub it raw was overwhelming. She had to rub off the feel of that man's touch from her, to scrub it until she could no longer feel him on her. Her revulsion with her own body had reached its limit and her urge to destroy it almost overrode her senses.

She had considered ending her life but she could never go through it. The desperate young woman had spent hours sitting on the ledge of a rooftop at her apartment building one night, her life flashing before her mind's eyes. In the end, hours after the moon had risen; Effie stood up with shaky feet and made her way back into her apartment. I can't let Snow win.

Haymitch walked towards her and swayed lightly on his feet. No, Effie thought, he isn't that drunk, not if he could still walk steadily on his feet.

He lifted his hand and Effie watched as it moved closer to her face. This were the pair of hands that had rubbed her shoulder awkwardly when he walked in on her crying one evening five years ago. He had surprisingly gentle hands, something that should not belong to brash men like those standing before her. He had tried to soothe her even though he wasn't even aware of the reason behind the tears. Those hands would not harm her but still she flinched when his thumb smeared the tear track marring her almost perfect skin. She hadn't realised that she had been crying. She blinked. Rings on each finger, hands that had touched her in places she did not want to be touched just hours ago - the mental images invading her mind.

"Don't touch me," she snapped.

He retracted his hand. His eyes hardened and Effie saw the hurt in it. His voice was cold when he spoke next.

"You smell of cigarette and sex."

She averted his gaze, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and shame. She brushed past him but his hand closed around her upper arm. He leaned in inches from her ear and whispered, his warm breath tickling her skin.

"Did you let him touch you or were you as snappy with him as you were with me? He wouldn't have like that. I suppose that would explain the bruise on the corner of your lips."

Her eyes widened. She hadn't bothered looking in the mirror. Couldn't bear to face and look at herself. She had dressed hastily and left the room. It was already dark by then. She had assumed that nobody would be awake to see her. Of course, things always went wrong when it came to her. Haymitch had to be awake and he wasn't drunk today of all days.

She yanked her hand from his grip and turned her face towards his, the fire burning in her eyes.

"Don't ever speak to me like that ever again, Mr. Abernathy. You don't know half the things you claim you know."

"Back to formalities, Effie?"

He stared her down and she held her ground. He broke the gaze and gave her a curt nod.

"Have a good night then, Ms. Trinket," The tone in his voice was mocking her.

XxX

Effie sunk into the bathtub, letting the warm water soak her. Her skin was red and raw from where she had scrubbed them earlier. She cursed that man and the Capitol. She cursed Haymitch for the stunt he pulled during the reaping and she cursed herself for her stupidity.

It was what had gotten her in trouble. She became an Escort and had watched helplessly as her first tribute was slain mercilessly in the bloodbath. Something woke in her, something clicked into place. She became increasingly restless as the numbers of the children she had unwittingly murdered grew over the years, the list of names getting longer.

One day, in the privacy of her own room, she had cried and railed against the Capitol. She had cursed them angrily, wishing ill will on President Snow. How was she to know that her own house was bug? That they had been listening?

Politics was never one of Effie's strong points. She had never understood the game. She knew now that when someone was given power, they lived in constant fear of losing it and in order not to lose it, the threats had to be eliminated.

The Peacekeepers came for her the next morning. When they took off the bag covering her face, the smiling face of President Snow swam in her vision. Her stomach twisted. There was nothing kind about that smile.

Her way of thinking was unbecoming of a Capitol citizen; she was a traitor for doubting the hand that had fed her. At that moment, Effie was a threat and she needed to be streamlined back to the masses, her thoughts put back on track. She had no living family member Snow could use to threaten her. Snow thought he had no way to persuade Effie to fall in line but he had mentioned the punishment meted out to Haymitch for his stunt and Snow was perceptive enough to notice how she had tensed up at the mention of Haymitch's name. Effie wasn't always good at acting and it had cost her.

As a reminder to her that Snow alone controlled the fate of his people, Effie was sold to the highest bidder with the threat of Haymitch's death hanging over her head.

President Snow was a vindictive man. Effie saw a human in him but there was no humanity left in his heart. It was as black as the night skies - the paranoia and the hatred had corroded it.

He seemed hellbent on blaming Effie for everything that could go wrong with the District Twelve team. When Haymitch had punched a Peacekeeper during the victory banquet two years ago, Effie spent the night paying for his mistake.

Like Effie, Haymitch had no one left for Snow to threaten. And Haymitch couldn't be sold the way Effie and Finnick were. Nobody wanted to buy and sleep with a drunk. He might have been a handsome victor once but he was too much trouble now, more than what it was worth.

Snow had thought that he had come up with the perfect plan. Surely, the Capitol Escort would have informed the troublesome Victor that she had to pay for his mistakes? Surely, the thought of someone else taking his fall would keep him in line? But Effie had kept quiet. She never said a word.

Haymitch was bitter and angry. She could feel the underlying current of deadly electricity coursing through him each time the Capitol made a grand entertainment or laughed about his dead tributes. He had his family killed, his girl murdered - he didn't need to know that Effie was on the list of people he couldn't protect. The knowledge would kill him and Effie didn't need his protection.

She wrapped herself in etiquette and manners, constantly reprimanding Haymitch and reminding him to uphold those values. She had hoped that he would listen even if for a bit but the more she commented on his lack of manners, the more she tried to groom him - the worse he got.

He had done it to spite her but he failed to realize that she had to pay for it - with her body.

Tonight was payment for his mistake too. Effie closed her eyes as the event during the Reaping swam before her mind's eyes.

"Lots of ... Spunk. More than you!" Haymitch had shouted. Effie's breath hitched and caught in her throat.

Stop, please stop, she had pleaded silently.

"More than you!" and this time he pointed his fingers straight and directly into the camera.

Effie stared at him hard and swallowed painfully before slipping back into her act.

After the Tributes' parade, she was called to the President's office. She stood in front of his desk as his eyes swept her from head to toe. She schooled her expression into a guilty apologetic mask.

"You failed yet again, Ms Trinket. You have allowed your mentor to disgrace our very nation. I expected better from you."

"Yes, sir. I -"

"You know what will happen. Do tell him to behave himself, won't you?"

She was dismissed and two days later, she ended up in a hotel suite with a balding man sporting an expensive suit. Julius Hoffman.

XxX

"Tell him," Finnick whispered, as he leaned against the wall of an empty alley.

"I can't, Finnick."

She shook her head. He exhaled and Effie could tell that he was frustrated.

"You've done well to keep up your act, to be the good citizen you're expected to be. But lately, it's all for him, Effie - all for his misconduct."

"I don't know how - he won't understand. He hated the Capitol so much, he'll think I'm bluffing, or... Or he'll think I deserve it."

This time, it was Finnick who shook his head sadly.

"Don't think so lowly of him that way, Effie."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close, providing her the comfort that she needed. A touch from another human that did not seek any sexual gratifications, a touch from someone who understood her pain because he himself was going through it.

Finnick had sought her out when they had passed by each other on a couple of occasions at the hotel lobby, or the hotel corridor. Her eyes were downcast as she tried to avoid his puzzled gaze.

"You too?" he had asked as he danced with her during one of the victory tour.

"I don't know what you mean, Mr. Odair,"

"Drop the pretenses. I've done this longer than you. That hotel is frequently used for these exact activities. Buying and selling of Victors. If they're doing it to us, I can't imagine why they can't do it to Escorts. And you're not the first, I saw anyway. The Escort from Eight as well, if you must know."

Effie kept her silence and chose instead to focus on the movement of her feet trying to keep up with the rhythm of the music.

Finnick continued, his voice low, the charming smile etched on her face. "And, if it was a one night stand, I imagined your eyes wouldn't have looked so haunted."

He paused and waited. She had stiffened in her arms as he caught her bluff.

She hissed. "You want me to admit? Yes, yes, he is selling me the way he is selling you."

"Meet me tonight and we'll talk about it."

She spilled everything she had kept to herself to Finnick that night. He became her confidante.

XxX

Her nerves were strung high, she was restless. She spent the duration of the Games worrying about Katniss and Peeta. She worried about herself too. She watched Haymitch like a hawk in case he did anything that would get her in trouble.

But this year was different. He was sober and he was currently charming a group of sponsors into giving him what he needed.

His eyes flitted across the room and landed on Effie who had trained her gaze on him. He smirked and jerked his head to a corner of the room.

She waited for him under an alcove, a glass of champagne in her hand.

"We have more than enough for a set of burn medicine,"

Effie looked at him and nodded clearly distracted.

"I thought you'd be ecstatic that someone was willing to sponsor us," he asked drawled lazily.

Effie chided herself for slipping in front of him. A smile broke on her face and her voice took on a chipper note.

"Of course I am, Haymitch. It's wonderful. You must send it to her now. She needs it. Oh, I think I'll be by the screen, don't want to miss her reaction when she gets your parachute."

He frowned at her.

"What's wrong with you?" his voice was softer. Or perhaps, she was just imagining it.

I'm exhausted. I'm dirty and ashamed and there is nothing I could do that could wash this filth away.

"Nothing," she answered instead.

The look in his eyes told her that he didn't believe her. Her heart sank.

Tell him, Finnick had said.

She opened her mouth to say something but Chaff's booming voice had caught Haymitch's attention. He turned briefly towards her.

"Go on then, wait by the screen. Our first sponsor in a long while, you wouldn't wanna miss that, sweetheart."

XxX

They won. They won.

Her heart soared and swelled with pride. For the first time in a long while, the smile on her face wasn't forced. Then she faltered and stared at the screen. The Capitol won't take lightly to that.

Compared to her crimes against the Capitol, what Katniss and Peeta had done was worse. Their punishment would be harsher. Effie bit down on her lip to prevent herself from crying out. Peeta - the charming blue eyed boy - his fate would be like Finnick. And Katniss – the night lock was her idea. Would her family be murdered just like Haymitch's?

She deflated and before she could collapse on the leather sofa, Haymitch had guided her by the elbow. She let him lead her into his room.

"Speak," he said, as he cleared the dirty laundry off his bed to make space for them to sit.

She shook her head and glanced around his room, wary of listening devices. There was a lamp in the corner of room, buried under piles of clothing.

Haymitch gestured towards it.

"The bug's there. They won't be able to make out the words. Just muffled voices."

Her head snapped up to look at him in surprise.

"I've done this longer than you, sweetheart."

She lifted a shoulder and bit her lips. Such a simple command - speak. Where should she even begin? The lump in her throat was suffocating her. Effie wasn't even sure if she wanted Haymitch to know.

"You know they're in trouble."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement. Effie nodded.

"I saw your face change when you realized what they've done. You're a pretty damn good actor, Trinket. But when you thought no one's looking, your mask slipped and I see someone else. I know - your mask slipped on several occasions with me around. You thought I was too drunk to notice."

She covered her face with her hands and mumbled, "What do you see?"

He shrugged.

"Someone vulnerable, someone human. You're scared half the time. Your eyes looked manic. It's the same look in a tribute's eyes when they realized that there's no way out."

"You're very observant."

"It's easier to watch people when they pass you off for a drunk. Like you."

"Why are you watching me?"

The panic crept into her. If he had been watching her, how much did he know? What did he know?

He gave her a faint smile, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You're the only one who's always around for me to look at."

He clapped his knee and stood up.

"Be careful, sweetheart. Keep that mask on - things are going to be a lot more difficult now."

She followed and stood facing him. Effie wasn't sure what just happened but she felt an understanding settle between them. She thought Haymitch understood that there was more to her than just the brightly dressed Capitol Escort.

She had no idea what made her do it but she felt the need to do something bold. Maybe it was Katniss' act of bravery - but Effie stood on tiptoes and planted a soft warm kiss on his stubble cheeks.

She left the room to board the hovercraft that would take them to Katniss and Peeta.

XxX

She swallowed as she watched the recap for the Reaping. Some of the Victors who had been sold by the Capitol were now tributes in the Quell. That would mean the buyers would turn to the Escorts to satisfy their lust.

True enough, she received a phone call that night for an appointment the following night and a room number in the same hotel suite.

It was not her acting against the Capitol. It was not Haymitch's drunken self that had angered the Capitol. No, they just needed a body.

Effie had long stopped crying. She had grown numb, had accepted her fate that her body was not hers. She was up for trade.

She gave a final cursory check in the mirror and sprayed her perfume.

"Going somewhere?"

Effie squeaked and jumped. Haymitch was by the door, a bottle of wine in his hand and bouquet of flowers in the other.

Her heart was in her throat. Are those for ... Did he buy them for me? She shook her head. Of course not. Haymitch would never.

He stepped closer and handed her the flowers. She turned the card in her hand and her stomach plummeted.

Julius Hoffman. The same man she had slept with at the beginning of the 74th Games.

"Boyfriend?" Haymitch asked chuckling.

"No."

"Romantic interest, then."

"It really is none of your business, Haymitch."

He stepped closer. So close they were sharing breaths. Her pulse raced.

"Wrong. It is my business. You're my Escort and each time you leave at night dressed like this with that ... perfume, you'd come back smelling of sex. You'll lock yourself up in your room and your eyes ... They're -"

He stopped abruptly and stepped back. Effie blinked. She was wary of his mood swings.

"For someone who doesn't care, you notice a lot of things about me," she said through gritted teeth. She walked past him, careful not to let her hands brush against his.

Calm down, Effie. Don't break down.

She closed the door to the Penthouse just as Haymitch whispered, "Wrong again, sweetheart."

XxX

The arena had exploded moments ago. Haymitch was destroying any potentially incriminating evidence in the fire.

"Get your things, Effie. I told you to pack yesterday. Get your things, hurry."

She didn't move.

"For fuck's sake, are you deaf? Get your fucking things, Trinket."

"No."

He threw the remaining papers in the fire and strode towards her. He grabbed her arms and shook her roughly.

"We are on the brink of a Rebellion," he said, as though Effie needed reminding. "You have to come with us, you're one of us."

"No, Haymitch. You go. You're needed at Thirteen. I'll stay here. I can do a lot from here. Lead them away from you... False information..."

He shook his head angrily.

"That wasn't the plan. The plan was for you to come with us."

"Plans changed."

"You'll die," he said urgently.

"That was a risk we all took when we agreed to this, Haymitch."

She caressed his cheek. He closed his eyes briefly.

"This is stupid. This is self-sacrifice. Come along, now," he tugged her hand.

"It has been self-sacrifice for so long now."

His eyebrows merged in confusion.

"You're wasting time, Haymitch. Go now."

"I promised. I promised Finnick that I'll bring you along," he said desperately.

Effie cried and shook her head again. "They'll come for you. I can buy you time. I can -"

"Lead them away from us," he nodded.

"Stay alive for me, Haymitch."

He grasped her face between his hands, his thumb rubbing against her cheekbones.

"I'll come for you. Just... Don't give up, stay strong."

Effie laughed nervously. Stay strong. So different from his customary 'Stay alive'.

He kissed her lips, softly and hesitantly. She blinked away the tears. When was the last time someone had treated her gently?

She kissed him back. Her hands grabbed a fistful of his hair, tangling them even more.

Haymitch reluctantly pulled himself away and gave her one last look before turning on his heels and running out of the Penthouse.

XxX

Effie was going to die. She was sure of it. If it wasn't from the wounds inflicted on her body then it would be from the long-term health complications that could arise from the constant flow of adrenaline being released into her system.

She was on edge, anxious and tense ever since she had been escorted by Peacekeepers to the President's office but being trapped in the dark dank cell was wearing her nervous system thin.

Every little noise caused her to jump in fright. The stomp of a Peacekeeper's boots, the click of the metal lock on her cell, the touch of someone's hand on her skin and lights. She was even afraid of lights now.

Bright lights. It meant interrogation. It blinded her, made her extremely disorientated.

Her heart rate increased. Her breathing became more laboured. She fought and she fought her captors hard. She kept Rebel information, twisted them and sent Snow's troops on a merry goose chase. She had to pay for it when they realised that the information was useless.

She repeated it in her head. I'm going to die. The building shook. Footsteps scrambled in a blind mass of panic outside her cell. Her muscles coiled with every loud explosion.

There it was again. Whoever it was had shone the lights straight at her face.

Here? They're doing the interrogation here in my cell?

She had always been brought to another room. The lights were brighter there, more intense, a higher volt. Effie could always feel the heat emanating from the bulbs.

She shut her eyes against the lights. Footsteps approached her.

"Oh no, no, no. Please be alive. Effie, please."

Gentle hands touched her, thumb under her chin lifting her face up facing the ceiling. She opened her eyes and stared straight into the glassy silvery eyes that she knew only belonged to one man.

He's here. He came. He came for me.

XxX

He was angry. He was in one of his moods again - angry, bitter and defeated. She saw the tears streaming down his face. He didn't realise that he was crying.

"You could have told me, Effie! I would have –"

"You would have what? What would you have done, Haymitch?"

He ran his hands angrily through his hair. He paced the space between the foot of her bed and white wall of the hospital.

"I don't know. But I would have done something, anything. Wouldn't drink so much, I would have kept my mouth shut. I wouldn't have taunted them. I would..."

He sank on the armchair next to her bed and hung his head. His hand gripped her file, the seal of the Capitol stamped on its front page. She knew what was in that file. Records of the clients she was sold to – the reason for her punishment neatly written on its margin.

Ms Trinket was discovered to have spoken traitorously against the Capitol.

Misconduct by mentor of District 12.

The first few pages listed in detail the reasons for her punishment but the recent records had simply state the reason as "Haymitch Abernathy."

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Effie," he pleaded, clasping her hands between his.

His eyes reflected the desperation in his voice. She looked at him, felt the tears falling down her cheeks.

"You saved me. It's enough, we're even."

He shook his head and opened his mouth to argue. But Effie had pulled his head down where it rested against her breast. She wrapped her arms around his shoulder.

"It's okay, Haymitch. It's okay, I'm not... I don't hate you. I've never hated you. I was angry at you, sometimes I wished you could just shut up but it's not you, is it? They've never owned you - you had no one left they could threaten. How were you supposed to know that they would use me?"

"You could have told me."

"I never meant for you to know," she looked away. "They were going to kill you. I ... I did it to keep you alive. If they had gone straight to you and threaten you, there's nothing to hold you back – you would have retaliated and... They'll kill you, Haymitch."

"Why? You hated me."

"Pay attention, Haymitch. I said I never hated you."

"I still don't understand, Effie. I was your colleague, why... Why go to that extent to protect me?" he pushed himself off the bed and looked at her.

"I don't know... I just wanted to see you safe..." she trailed off. He raised an eyebrow dubiously.

She had survived torture, lived through a Rebellion, sold off on countless occasions and yet, she couldn't face him. She couldn't admit her feelings to herself and to him. If Effie admitted her feelings, it would be real and she couldn't bear to face him if he pushed her away. She was dirty and broken. She was a tool and every time she walked by a mirror, she was reminded of how filthy she was.

But he had kissed me that night the Victors broke out of the arena. Effie clenched her jaw and passed it off as a heat of the moment.

"You're a good actor, Trinket – you're good at hiding things. I won't press it. Rest now."

He bent down and kissed her forehead. He didn't believe me.

XxX

There was a knock on the door. Effie was packing what little belongings she had into a small duffel bag.

"Come in,"

Haymitch walked in and glanced around her room. She looked up, the surprise evident in the face.

"Oh, it's – Hello, Haymitch. It's been awhile."

He nodded and rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. They hadn't seen each other for nearly a year. Effie was a resident in an institution receiving psychiatric treatments. Therapy. Haymitch had gone back to Twelve while she remained in the Capitol for her treatments. Effie was scheduled to be released today.

She had not expected a visit from Haymitch. She hadn't heard from him ever since they parted ways.

"How are you?" he asked

She folded and unfolded the dress in her hands, keeping them busy and occupied.

"I'm good. Thank you for asking. I'm healing well."

"That's uh... good to know."

The uncomfortable silence grew between them.

"Are you really here to visit me?" she asked him curiously.

"No – Yes, I mean no. No, I'm actually – Will you come with me, please?"

"I can't leave this room unescorted by a nurse. If you could just call her, we can go where... where are we going?"

He sighed and rubbed his forehead.

"I should be clearer. Plutarch says that you'll be living in a public apartment build by the government? When you're released from here, I mean."

"Yes. It's a temporary arrangement until I can get my footing again. Get a job, you know?"

"I have plenty of room in Victors' Village... You know, if you don't mind. I spoke to Plutarch and he said it's fine if you would like to ... stay with me."

Effie was stunned and she couldn't formulate any words to respond to his offer. She looked down on her hands. She felt overwhelmed all of a sudden and the teardrop that fell on the palm of her hands was beyond her control.

Haymitch shifted beside her.

"It's okay if you don't want, though. I understand – I won't take it personally." When she didn't respond, he continued, "I supposed it would be difficult to stay with me after what you had to go through because of me. Katniss said I shouldn't ask but I... gotta try, you know?"

She nodded.

"How are the kids?"

"Good. They're okay, they have each other. They'll make it."

"And you?" she asked him softly.

He lifted a shoulder in response.

"Drunk," he smiled at her.

"You're not taking care of yourself," she noted her eyes swept over his haphazard appearance.

"Nobody around to care about how I look."

The air shifted around them and Effie noted how Haymitch squared his shoulders as though he was preparing himself to get through an obstacle.

"I need you," he said, his voice steady. "That's why I came. I need you, Effie. I don't know what I'm doing. Everything and everyone is changing around me. We've won and I'm still the same. I still woke up drunk, my house is a mess and I'm wasted half the time. My life is still..."

He paused and the break in his speech made Effie look up. "I think you might need me, too," he said softly, "What you did for me, I –"

"Yes. I'll come with you. I'll stay with you."

The words left her mouth before she could stop herself and Effie realised that she meant it. It had always been her and Haymitch all these years. She had grown to care for him first as a friend and the feelings had grown. She had taken the fall for him and Effie knew the guilt still roiled in his blood. Maybe this was his way to return her favour, offer her something when she had nothing left.

Effie launched herself at him and sobbed in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. Cocooned in the safety of his arms, inhaling his familiar scent, she finally had the courage to admit that perhaps she had done it because she had loved him all these while.

A/N: I think there are several fics out there touching on the same theme but I've had this idea for quite a while and I just wanted to see how I could have written it. Well, my only hope is that you all like it.

Please leave a review to tell me your opinion, they are much love. :) Oh, I was also thinking of doing this in Haymitch's POV but I'm not sure if any of you would be interested in reading it?