I'm currently working on chapter twenty six of "Of Perfume, Liquor, and Baby Bottles" but this one shot popped into my head so I had to write it. Enjoy.
There had been no warning. No sirens. No alerts. The Capitol's hovercraft had slipped through the barriers, its mask the night sky. The missile, its child, born of pure sin and hatred, splitting through the still air with a low hum. The only moment of realization was the rumbling of the walls as they plummeted to the ground. The occupants inside trapped under the rubble. It had been, previously, the building Haymitch had so stupidly pulled Effie in after rescuing her from the President's clutches merely minutes before. They were to have waited there, along with a small platoon of rebels, for help. For Thirteen's craft to pick them up. Now the idea of hope seemed so distant now.
Haymitch awoke to the searing ache that bubbled, like lava, from his chest. He tried to inhale, to breathe any fresh air he could, but the pressure from the slabs of blown concrete on his person just sent him into a fit of coughs. Oh how he truly desired a strong drink right now.
His ears rang as he attempted to move his head. Each movement sending another flash of pain throughout his body. He had not prepared for this. Nobody had. Never in training had they been prepped for an air raid gone wrong. Or right on the Capitol's part. He swallowed hard, the dust in his mouth drying his throat. He needed to call out. For who or what, he didn't know.
He forced his mouth open. The muscles in his face spasmed in pain. He drew a sharp breath despite the burning in his torso. With all he could muster, he spoke. At first, his words inaudible like the missile's hum. He tried again. This time louder but still, unheard. Gritting his teeth, he inhaled deeply. He made a noise this time. Loud enough for someone close by to hear. An unsupressed groan of pain.
He waited, teeth still grinding together. No response. Was he the last one alive? Alone in this hell? His heart pounded heavily in his chest. Each pump both a reassurance of his life and a curse of his unimaginable pain. He knew he would eventually die alone. But it wasn't supposed to be like this. His eyes closed. The urge for that drinking growing.
"Hello?"
A whisper. A voice. So quiet, so weak, but there. He opened his eyes once more. There was someone else. Someone, like him, who was alive and trapped in this place. Grunting, he turned his head, the rubble covering him groaning at the disturbance. Peering with strained eyes through the darkness, he saw a figure laying not but a few yards away. Their body hidden from the collarbone down in debris. It was then, through some sort of small, unknown light source, he saw the familiar feminine features now void of wig and makeup that belonged to the woman he knew all too well. Effie Trinket.
"Princess?"
The name came out gravely. Meek. He should be ashamed of how vulnerable he sounded right now. But he wasn't. He shifted again underneath his prison. His body screaming at every attempt of his wiggling to freedom. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. A new urge, stronger than the drinking, making his desire to break free greater. But it wasn't enough. Even though passion is powerful, the physical force holding him down caused his attempts to cease. Weak and trapped like an animal, he lay there.
"Haymitch?"
She called out to him again and he couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. It was his fault that she were trapped here. His ignorance that had led them to being crushed like two flies between the jaws of a Venus Fly Trap. He almost didn't answer her. But he knew he had to. He owed her that much.
"Yeah, it's me."
"I thought so." She sounded so feeble. "But I couldn't see to make sure. Are you alright?"
He paused for a moment, waiting for the pain to subdue slightly. "Hurting like hell but guess that means I'm alive. What about you?"
"I can't feel anything."
His stomach knotted at her words. That wasn't a good sign at all. His mind began to race. A flow of snippets of thoughts coursing through his head. They needed to get out of here. He needed to get her out. Trying to compose himself, he swallowed hard.
"That's a good thing." He knew they both knew it wasn't.
There was a moment of pause. Silence was Death itself lingering between the realm of living and demise. He needed to break it. Keep her talking. Keep her alive. It was all he had left.
"Damn craft should be here by now." Was all that came to his mind. "Where the hell are they?"
"Haymitch?"
He inhaled, another jolt of pain shooting through him. He turned his head a little more to look at her. Something wet and shiny glistened on her forehead. He knew it wasn't makeup.
"Yeah?"
"It's cold down here."
"That time of year I guess." He didn't want to think of the real reason why.
Another pause, this one longer than the first. He racked his brain trying to think of something to say next. Something to keep her talking. His head was hurting so bad right now.
"You came back." She whispered.
"You sound surprised." How he wished for the drink right now. Not for the feel of the buzz but for the relief it would give his raw throat.
"I didn't think I was a priority." Her voice grew fainter. "I didn't think you cared for me enough."
"Course I do." His cheeks flushed with embarressment. How he was able to feel that right now, he was unsure. "I mean...I don't hate you."
"But you don't like me?"
"I didn't say that."
Another pause. How he suddenly began to hate silences. Through the still air, he could hear her ragged breathing. How labored it sounded. Another pang of guilt. He hadn't meant for this to happen. How he hated himself more than the quiet now.
"Haymitch?"
"Yeah?"
"I'm dying aren't I?"
The hovercraft's missile might as well went through his chest. Her words only gave way into his realization of their truth. It was a thought he had been trying to suppres. Trying to ignore. And she had to bring it up. Now he hated her too.
"You're not." He mumbled.
"Yes I am."
"No."
"I know I am."
"Shut up."
"You don't have to lie about it. I know you know I am."
"Effie, shut up."
"I'm dying, Haymitch."
"I SAID SHUT UP!"
Silence again. He hadn't meant to snap. To show emotion. This wasn't like him. He didn't like showing vulnerability and yet, she was making him. He hated her more than ever for that. He hated her so much that maybe he loved her. He didn't know why, but he did. He loved Effie Trinket. Her god awful makeup. Her ridiculous accent. Her damn clothes. Every part of her.
"Haymitch?"
How he wished she'd just stay silent.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for saving me."
He bit his lip. The irony of her words. He hadn't saved her. He had made things worse and yet she thanked him? He didn't understand that woman and he knew he never would.
"You're not dying." He said again. 'We're going to get out of this. You and me."
"Alright, Haymitch." Was all she said.
It fell quiet again. Only the sound of Effie's shallow breaths filled Haymitch's ears. If President Snow had ever wanted to truly make him feel agony. He had succeeded. If only he had died during the the Second Quarter Quell. If only he hadn't been born. Perhaps none of this would have ever happened. Perhaps Effie would still be safe.
"Haymitch?"
This time he didn't answer.
"This is going to sound silly." She continued despite Haymitch's silence. "But I've never seen a rainbow."
He wasn't sure what brought on this random train of thought of her's but he'd let it slide. This time. He owed her that much.
"I mean, I've seen pictures of rainbows and outfits of course, but I've never seen a real one in the sky. I find myself looking up every time after it rains but none ever seem to appear. I wonder why that is..."
"Don't know, Princess." Was all he managed to say.
"It's quite silly is it. To wish for something as simple as that?" She questioned. "And how is it that something so beautiful can come from something as dreadful as a storm. Don't you find that odd?"
"Maybe." He replied. "But if it means that much to you. When we get out of here, I'll help you look for one."
"I'd like that." She said.
Minutes, maybe even hours passed for all he knew and still no help showed. Effie was slowly slipping from his grasp and there was nothing he could do about it. The threat of unconsciousness loomed over him as he tried to keep awake. He needed to make sure she did too. How hard the smallest tasks were.
"Haymitch, I'm so tired." Effie said breaking another pause.
"I know." Was all he said. "But you've gotta stay awake."
"You're requiring much of me."
"I know." His voice broke and he hated himself for that. "But you've gotta try. For the rainbows."
"Haymitch?"
He bit his lip again. He needed to stay strong. For her.
"Yeah?"
"Do you like me?"
He paused for only a moment before speaking. "Yeah." He said quietly, "Guess I do."
"I like you too." And for the first time she laughed. He had never heard her laugh before. "My, don't we sound like children? Asking if we like eachother. How silly..."
"Guess you're right, Princess." He said.
And suddenly, like the explosion had been, a new sound filled the air. The sound of rumbling of an engine. Of a hovercraft. Haymitch's heart leaped unlike it ever had before. They were here. They would be saved.
"Haymitch?"
"Yeah?" For the first time, he actually sounded happy.
"Do you see it?"
His heart dropped at her words.
"See what?" He hesitated.
"The rainbow." She whispered mystified. "Over there."
He bit his lip harder. "There is no rainbow, Princess."
"Yes there is. Why it's right over there, don't you see it?" Her breathing grew heavy. "It's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen..."
"Effie, don't." He begged. He never begged before. "Effie please! Hang on!" He could hear the sound of people as they removed the rubble from over top of them. But at this moment, he didn't care. They didn't matter. Only the one trapped with him did.
There was no response as a sudden bright light filled the darkness that hung over the imprisonment. The shouts of people sounded so distant as Haymitch strained his eyes. His ears. Hoping, praying to hear Effie. His heart pounded. His stomach twisted. His mind throbbed. Had he failed? He had desired nothing of this world until this moment. To bring a rainbow out from the horrors of the storm. To let it shine over the whole sky triumph. A rainbow that he, much like the Capitol's, had never been seen nor truly appreciated.
His own rainbow. Effie Trinket.
So originally I had planned to kill Effie off but then decided to let you, the readers, decide if she died or not. Anyway, I would love some feedback and your thoughts about this one shot. I've never written anything like it but I'm semi proud of it. Perhaps they were a bit ooc but oh well lol. Thanks so much for reading! -Jen