A very short one-shot about saying goodbye in "Catching Fire."
Hope you enjoy.
His eyes never left the screen, as his drink sat on the table untouched. Enthralled by the event that was about to unfurl in front of the entire nation of Panem. Haymitch sat with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. The lounge room of the penthouse was empty, apart from his lonely soul.
A door slammed and the sound of heels clanking drowned out the hum from the vision. Haymitch's eyes turned to Effie, as walked into the room. She was free of everything Capitol, bar her golden shoes and a mockingjay secured daintily around her neck. Blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders and a simple white dress was on her body. She stood in front of him, blocking his view.
"Go." As of timed by the gods, her statement caused chaos in the arena, the force field had been broken. She held out her arm, dangling from her hand was a black backpack. He stood up and looked at her, his face lit up with amazement and confusion. "You are not the only one who is friends with a Gamemaker." she sighed. He looked down and around him.
"Where is yours?" She barely shook her head, but it was enough. "They will kill you." His voice pleading with her.
"No. This is what I have to do." Her finality cut through the air. "Everyone has a part to play. This is mine."
"No one likes a martyr, sweetheart." He looked down at the bag, and took it from her hand.
"Well what about them?" Her head turned around to view what was happening on screen. The confusion of Caesar and the Gamemakers would have be comical, if not for the dire circumstances. "What if they all can't get out, what if Finnick, or Johanna or god forbid Peeta aren't able to make it out of the arena. As long as I am here, they will be safe."
"But what if they do get out?" His desperation was overwhelming.
She sighed, sadly and averted her gaze from his. "Well, then I guess I have done a good job then."
He had no other choice than to accept this inevitability. He was going, and she was staying. She helped him put on the backpack and walked him to the elevator. He stopped, in front of her, as if to get one last look.
"I am going to miss you, you drunken fool." She smiled as her reached up to touch his face for what was probably going to be the last time.
"Stay Alive, Princess." He said, he touched her and with his. Their touch lingered as he turned sound to enter the elevator. They broke hands and watched each other as the doors closed. A single tear fell from her eye and rolled softly down her cheek.
"Goodbye." She whispered.
She walked up to the kitchen and poured herself a drink of wine. She turned off the television and placed herself where he sat. She leaned back into the chair, sipping her drink, waiting. A few minutes later, they burst into the penthouse.