Figure It Out - Effie and Haymitch

by Skyllen

'You can not bring a dead body to life, you can just learn to live with the vacancy. The past may not be present anymore but it'll always catch up to you, Haymitch.'Although Effie's relationship to Haymitch had been difficult, something seems to change. But without her knowing her time's running out and suddenly Effie has to make a final and fatal decision: Which side is she on?

Hello and welcome to my first fanfic in English language. Some of you may know me as clockworktributes from Tumblr, I posted a lot of Hayffie edits some years ago.

Well this is ''Figure It Out'', I've been working on this fanfic for over two years by now but only in German language. This is the first time I translated something so I hope it's okay. Please let me know.

I've updated this yesterday but something didn't work with the programme so I hope it works today and you're able to actually read it. :)

This fanfic is about Effie and Haymitch and how their relationship develops during the Quarter Quell. Haymitch and Effie had been very close in the past but Haymitch wouldn't be Haymitch if he pushes away the people he has feelings for (although Effie never understood that he pushed her away to keep her save). I don't want to tell you too much from the story, I'm rather explaining some details in the beginning or ending of the chapters.

I hope you enjoy reading this and even if you not, please let me know. I would be very grateful to get some feedback, especially because it's my first translated fanfic.

Thanks for reading and enjoy!

Skyllen

Faded

I solemnly stare at the wooden houses of District 12. It's quiet; so quiet one could hear a pin drop. I have to think of last year's reaping.

It had been like every other year. Camera teams accompanying me from all sides, an escort of Peacekeepers being available for me at all times and the mayor who always welcomed me personally.

But it seems to be different this year. The last Games changed something.

As an escort you hear scraps of conversations over the years - especially when the mentor is drunk most of the time. There are many enemies of the Capitol out here. They have been quiet the last seventy-five years but that may have changed recently.

A screen of fog lies over the district. It's cooler than last year, as if the weather knew what awaits us today. I feel queasy at the thought of it.

From afar, I hear the doors of the train closing behind me. I already crave to get into the train again later.

I'm standing alone on the old and rotten train station of District 12, wearing black high heels and a beautiful orange dress, like a diamond surrounded by stones. No trace of camerateams. No flashlights. Nothing. Not even the major is here to welcome me. I'm horrified that anyone could treat the escort of last year's victors like this.

Only a little escort of four Peacekeepers is waiting for me. They don't wear helmets and I can barely identify any faces. Just a young black haired woman looks familiar. No one greets or salutes. Without hesistation, they take me into their middle and let me get into the car. What awful manners!

That's the moment I know that it's going to be different this year. Closing my eyes I try to think of my arrival but my brain is too agitated to grasp a clear thought.

The months since the announcement of the Quarter Quell passed in a trance. Actually, I should be happy like all the people are. But I can't, now that it suddenly gets personal.

They have to go back into the arena. There's no space for other thoughts in my mind right now, although I know that I shouldn't be caring that much. I am not allowed to get attached but I can't help it. All the tributes we lost until the fate finally meant it well with us. Of course I can't just let them go.

Nobody knows them like I do. They think they know everything about them. But they don't know how it is to be awaken by Haymitchs screams when there's no liquor left on the train and he has to torture himself through his nightmares. Or when Katniss cries over all the dead children, who weren't unlike her and she still was forced to kill them. Peeta, who doesn't want to burden us his grief and you still see the absent expression in his eyes when he remembers. No, they won't ever understand them like I do.

From the beginning, it had been a very hard time for me and Haymitch. I understand that it didn't come easy to him to trust a woman who looks like the people who murdered his family. But it also wasn't easy for me to care for those kids alone while he drank himself till he passed out because he could't bare the sight of them. Because he lost hope before he even tried.

Yet still we managed it somehow. Our relationship isn't the best but it has been worse.

In my first years as escort of District 12 we fought a lot. We still fight a lot though but it's different somehow. To watch me retun year after year trying to at least help our kids a bit, must have filled him with pain. Vainly helped. There were years when he was so drunk that he threw wine bottles at me. But he quickly got ingenious. Sometime he started to disgrace me in front of the cameras. He just was wrong about one point. If he thought I would quit and look for another job, then he had totally got me wrong.

I don't know when it began but sometime we started to fight our arguments out with words. He did everything to hurt me, to show me that time has changed but I never showed him how much he really hurted me because that was the thing he wanted to see. He wanted me to hate him. And sometimes I did. His prejudices about my motives to work for the Hunger Games. "To work for Snow," as he called it sometimes when he totally lost his mind. Maybe at the beginning, he really thought I was a freak from the Capitol who didn't have any better things to do but making his life a living hell.

It's different today. Today, Haymitch and I are friends somehow. It has to be strange watching us argue because we still do. I advise him and he provokes me. But today, I can say, he wouldn't throw me to the sharks immediately, when he could decide about my fate.

And as odd our relationship might be and as much he annoyed me the past years, I don't want to be the one sending him back into the arena. I wouldn't ever forgive myself. But, then again, I wouldn't ever forgive myself sending Peeta back. Or Katniss.

I know that I won't bear it a second time. The spirit of the Games. I dimly remember my words when I let them bring Katniss to me last year after she volunteered for her sister.

But back then I haven't known what was underneath the facade. I didn't suspect that she would do everything to return to her family. It was the first year, after all the dead tributes, when Haymitch and I assembled and really cared. We did it once before, in my first year as an escort but it all changed. We cared that they had a chance. It was a heartbreaking time but we withstanded. All four of us. This time created a connection. I can't let them go again. It would break the rest of my sparkling personality into thousand of little pieces.

When I saw them again for Victory Tour, the air between Katniss and Peeta had already changed. The Games had marked them with everlasting scars.

It was the first time I visited another district than Twelve and we were entirely suprised when the Victory Tour already took a bitter course in District 11. Haymitch had suspected about the mood in the other districts but even he was not prepared for this. He didn't even have the time to visit Chaff because they immediately brought us back to the train.

It must have had something to do with the moods in the districts when Peeta proposed to Katniss afterwards. It didn't feel true. Especially because they couldn't look into the others eyes in the train. And I know them.

Haymitch said, everything was alright but he had always said that. Maybe because he didn't think I could be more than a Capitol doll.

They changed but so did I. For all these years I wanted to prove something. I wanted to get promoted into a better district. I wanted to show my parents that I wasn't just the second child. It seemed like the only opportunity back then.

However, I quickly realized how cruel the Games really are and realized the senselessness behind it. Haymitch had never been a great convenience to save our kids from the arena. I failed every year once more while he got off his head. It became routine after some years. I didn't want it. I hoped too much. I expected too much from him. I thought because this one year on good terms, we would always be on good terms never mind what happens. He pushed me away quickly. And every time I looked him straight in the eyes I saw the pain he tried to hide. Pain he tried to avoid through alcohol. I was greatful being able to hide my feels behind a mask of make-up, colorful clothes and a fake accent. And someday I stopped crying for all the dead children. I just pushed my feelings away as much as I could and that worked better than expected.

But then suddenly it all changed. Or as Haymitch would say: "it all went to hell". It was clearly recogniseable that it would all proceed differently the moment Katniss volunteered for her sister. Because she was different. She went for someone she loved. Someone it was worth coming back to.

Even in Haymitch she seemed to awake something because suddenly his drinking got better and he helped. It was like a new era.

It was a totally new experience to work with two nearly practiced tributes. Katniss did everything to return home and showed me that every human being was worth too much to find an senseless end in the Hunger Games. Rue.

I cared for them like a mother, and today is the day when I will decide about the fate of my two young children. I have to decide.

I lift my head in a sigh and try to peer past one of the Peacekeepers. From afar you can recognize the Justice Building. The rising sun reflects in its dirty windows.

The car begins to move jumpily. It's the same car I escorted my tributes to the train station in every year. Escorted them to their deaths.

I stare at my hands franticly. They tremble. What's going on with me? Only now I see that my dress rumpled when I sat down. It doesn't matter. How can I think about a rumpled dress today? Pull yourself together, Euphemia! What would your parents think of you?

Five minutes later we stop at the Justice Building. I get out of the car in silence and enter the building through the back entrance. I have two hours until the reaping begins and claims two tributes. I get uncomfortable at the thought of it.

Who will it affect? Katniss anyway. It must have been a shock for her. The arena was far worse for her than for Peeta. Peeta or Haymitch? Haymitch or Peeta?

I always visit Haymitch before the reaping to make sure he wears something appropriate. This year I'm not allowed to see him before the reaping begins. I really don't know what difference it would make. To be honest, I couldn't help any of them anymore. They would rather ignore me instead.

oOo

The people of District 12 are standing silently in the sun-drenched square, the boiling heat beating down on them as they sweat. From all sides, machine-guns are aimed at them. Again, you only hear the sound of my high heels when I step on the podium in front of the Justice Building. I am almost embarrassed by it.

And finally, I see them.

The reunion after months totally blindsides me. Cooped up like animals, they stand in closed off areas. Katniss on my left and Haymitch and Peeta on my right side. They're throwing glances at each other, looking straight through me. Not angry though. Instead they're rather thoughtful, as if each of them is hoping for another outcome of the reaping.

They take the last bit of bravery I I had been holding on to. I stagger to the microphone insecure before I welcome the crowd to the Third Quarter Quell's reaping. My golden wig reflects on the microphone's surface and for a brief moment I can see my gloomy eyes. What will the people in the Capitol think about my performance? What will my parents think? They will surely be disappointed like they always are…

I quit the needless chatter and go straight to the girls' reaping ball. Katniss stares at some point behind the crowd, free of emotion. I give her a pitying glance. Then, I grab the one piece of paper, unfold it and read Katniss' name. My voice is low and seems to come from far away. But something else resonates in it. Disapproval. No, I am not okay with it. My first mistake.

Katniss steps forward. A single tear runs down her cheek. I would like to at least say something to comfort her, but anyone could tell it wouldn't work. It would look like betrayal. My voice was already enough betrayal, and everyone knows what happens with traitors. Seneca Crane is the latest example.

Then, I go over to the boys' reaping ball. I glance at them briefly. Haymitch responds to my glance at once. Unlike usual. He's not looking afraid but there's a spark twinkling in his eyes. I tear my eyes away from his abruptly, smile into the camera and unfold the paper.

For a moment the world seems to come to a standstill. I just stare at the piece of paper and try to regain my composure. Inside of me I fight against the wave of panic which threatens to overrun me. No no no! I would just put him in danger when I don't have my voice under control this time. But I worry too much because before I can even read out his name properly, Peeta has already volunteered.

It's dead silent all over the square. I just stand there, waiting for Peeta to step forward. I don't know whether I am relieved or upset. Haymitch looks furious. He grabs Peetas arm and says something to him but the only thing I hear is an outraged hiss.

I don't get his fury, he couldn't change a thing anyway. It almost looks like Haymitch wants to go back into the arena although that's silly of course. Haymitch abhors the arena.

After brief hesitate, Peeta manages to pass past Haymitch and arranges himself on my right. He turns to the people from his District.

I don't know how I get to the thought but suddenly I wonder how it would be if this was my District, when I had to go into the arena. When I knew all those people personally. Have Katniss and Peeta a responsibility over them?

The people just stare at both of them in a resolute silence. Exactly like last year. Not regretful. But their silence reveals something. Something blazes in their eyes, just like fire. Proud. Suddenly I understand how they punish the Capitol with their silence. How they express protest. Then, almost synchronic, they raise their hands and stretch their three middle fingers at both of them. Everything has changed. This year, everything is going to be different.

And that causes me to be frightened. My expression goes poker-face and I stare at the crowd with pursed lips. I don't know what it is but something tells me that we better leave now.

I turn to them, already thinking about how long their family good-byes will take.

In that moment, the Head Peacekeeper appears. At least he wears his uniform. The man's another. Hard facial features, croppy hair. Greed in his eyes.

Before Haymitch or I can react, he grabs the children's arms and drags them into the Justice Building. He must mutter something close to Katniss' ear because I can see his lips moving. Instantly, Katniss struggles against his grip and stares into the crowd of people who began to whisper. Her eyes search for Prim.

"No." The words barely escape her mouth. "I'm allowed to say goodbye!" Her voice shivers in panic. I follow them quickly, about to say something that may calm Katniss down.

"Change of plan," he yells nearly at the top of his voice, so the people on the square and Prim can hear him. Then his eyes suddenly bore into mine. I freeze immediately and feel the sudden need to flee.

"You will escort them to the train," he commands, then turns round on his heels and disappears with Katniss and Peeta into the building. Prim begins to scream.

"Opposition-less, sweetheart?" I hear Haymitch's voice next to me. It sounds amused but his face is serious. Behind us, the Justice Buildings' doors close with a burst crash.

I shrug, irritated. "It's also nice to see you again," I remark defiantly and strut past him. I don't mention that he already showed better manners than his Head Peacekeeper. "I see things changed quickly here. New Head Peacekeeper?"

Haymitch gives me a warning glance. "Romulus Thread. Just do what he says. We already had enough problems with him." He catches up quickly and runs beside me.

Instead of asking, I glance at him and nod in understanding. We all have seen the lashing of Katniss' cousin on TV. It's the wrong place for such a conversation. We quickly catch up with Katniss and Peeta, who are surrounded by a dead quiet escort of Peacekeepers as if they were criminals.

For a brief moment, I drop my mask and flash furiously at Thread, who rushes, stressed, past us. I open my mouth to rebuke him but Haymitch grabs my wrist and stops me in my movement. He drags me past him. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see how he grimaces, enraged. Automatically, I press my lips together so I won't snap at him later when he snarls at me. It's improper for a lady. But Thread has no right to interfere in my work. It's my duty to decide when we leave 12.

Haymitch slows down a little when we leave the building before he relaxes his grip. "Don't do such a thing ever again," he hisses. "You just put yourself and the rest of us in danger."

I turn to him, stunned. "I beg your pardon?" My voice rises two octaves upwards and the outrage is unmistakeable.

"You exactly know what I mean, Effie," he shoots back harshly and I know he means it because he doesn't often call me by my name these days. "You can't just stay on that podium and inform the whole nation about your displeasure. Where was your damned head?"

My composed fury vanishes. Our startled eyes meet. For a moment, silence dominates. "I … - It just didn't work how I wanted it to," I admit.

The look in his eyes softens. "But usually it does."

Misunderstood, I shake my head. "It's different now. I apologize, I didn't want to put anyone in danger." When he saw it, my parents must have seen it as well.

"It's not about us, sweetheart. We're as good as dead but what's about you? I want you to keep the clean slate." With this words, we arrive at the car and he quickly slips into it.

I don't reply, don't even glance at him. If I open my mouth, I'll probably say something I'll regret later. My feelings would overwhelm me. Never before have I felt as desperate as today. How can a woman, annually reaping kids, have a clean slate?

oOo

Back at the train station, we come across Katniss and Peeta again. Even now, there are no camera teams surrounding us. The poor kids weren't even allowed to say goodbye to their families. How much strength does it take them to not be overwhelmed by their feelings? I see how they're holding each others hand to silently give comfort. It almost breaks my heart. I have to be strong for them. They need Haymitch and I probably more than ever before.

Once we all get in, the train clunks to life. Katniss and Peeta disappear in their cars. Calmly, I sit down at the table in the common room and take a look at our schedule. We're going to arrive in the Capitol in about twelve hours.

After a while, I hear the door open. I identify him by his heavy footsteps, without lifting my view off my nails. Maybe he thinks I didn't hear him come in because he greets. It doesn't take more than twenty seconds until he opens the first bottle. I sigh loudly so that he can hear my frustration. Finally, I raise my head and put the little bottle of nail polish down.

"You're aware that you can not do that. Think of them," I say and glare at him. How many times did I already try to keep him off the bottle? He never listened, but instead insulted me.

I hear the rattling of his bottle and watch him while he pours himself a drink. He clearly built up some muscles and looks healthier. What have Peeta and Katniss forced him to? I can't help a smirk at that thought.

He settles down on the couch powerlessly. He drinks in hasty gulps as if his life depends on it. Then he wrinkles his nose and his eyes darts in my direction the first time. "Can't you make this somewhere else? I don't want to die of oxygen poisoning just because you don't do that shit in your car."

I narrow my eyes and stare at my nails. The nail polish smell is pungent but you get used to it. Haymitch always has to overact. "You're free to go," I reply spiky and grab the pink bottle.

He mutters something under his breath which sounds like 'no'. His voice sounds inattentive. In thoughts, miles away.

I grab the rest of my things and sit down on the armchair next to him. "You have a plan," I notice calmly.

Haymitch stretches his legs on the couch and opens his eyes for a brief moment, surveying me. Then, as if something displeases him, he closes them again. He probably waits for me to leave him alone so he can try to sleep. The last few years I recognized that he hardly sleeps at night rather in the early morning hours. How long have I actually known him? Eleven years? Both of us changed a lot.

Although he still makes me furious. Every year again. And it looks like that he's even a grouch when he's sober. It wasn't always like that, a voice in my head whispers but I ignore it.

"You're their mentor but you may not forget that I am their escort. I should know about it," I enlighten him with a wisp of acrimony in my voice.

Haymitch gives me a tired look. His grey eyes almost seem frantic. Actually, Haymitch Abernathy doesn't show his feelings in public. I learnt that too. The two changed him. They gave him hope. "Just leave it be, sweetheart," he says before standing up and leaving the car.

I stare at my hands and wonder what he might think about me. What he might have thought about me back then. The crazy Capitol bitch who thinks she knows how they feel. I don't pity him. It's his own fault for who he became. But I start to doubt that he could have prevented it.

oOo

When it's time for dinner I knock at Katniss and Peeta's door. Haymitch will appear on his own if he's hungry.

And he does.

We silently sit at the table. The atmosphere is getting moody. Yet, I try to give the conversation a push…to little avail. Sometimes a comment from Peeta, nothing else. Katniss seems deep in thought and Haymitch braces himself to resist the liquor.

"I love your new hair, Effie," Peeta says, anxious to sound carefree. He doesn't want to think about leaving his family. He probably knows that he's not coming back. But neither does he seem to regret it.

Across the table, I give him a smile. "Thank you. I had it especially done to match Katniss's pin. I was thinking we might get you a golden ankle band and maybe find Haymitch a gold bracelet or something so we could all look like a team," I tell him and the others about my idea.

"I think that's a great idea," Peeta says and sounds very interested. "How about it, Haymitch?" To be honest, I'm not quite sure if Peeta really means it or just said it to diffuse the tension. I look expectant at Haymitch. I'm sure he'll tell me the truth.

"Yeah, whatever," he says and I notice he's still fighting against the liquor. Silently, I give the Avox, who's serving us, a signal that he can take my glass away. A team supports each other, isn't that so? And so far, I have never seen Haymitch in this condition. I throw him a quick glance and see that he's staring at me. Just for a moment, though, then his gaze darts back to his plate.

"Maybe we could get you a wig, too," Katniss suddenly bursts out with. It's the first time I hear her speak today. She smirks over at Hamyitch.

Haymitch ignores her and pitches into the dessert as well as the others. In the first moment, I'm always wondering why they scoff their food as if they'd never see any ever again while I eat in pleasure. But then I always have to think about the matter of fact that once there was a time they probably didn't and I'm embarrassed by my thoughts.

After they finished eating I suggest to watch the recap of the reapings. Although I'm not even finished with the main course, I glance at my clock, get up and sit down again on the couch. The others follow me tentatively. Peeta's holding a notebook. Thereon, I realize how much this Games distinguish from previous. His fingers clasp the book like an essential organ.

The recap begins and even I recognize some of the victors. And it's an absolutely shock. When Finnick stands on that podium, I throw Haymitch a shattered glance but I don't dare say anything. Suddenly, I need all my strength not to scream. Finnick can impossibly go back into thearena!

I met Finnick a year after he won his Games as the youngest victor ever crowned. He was very good looking for his age and a real charmer in front of the cameras. But reality was different. Finnick is one of the few friends of Haymitch who has always been kind and polite with me. He's a good boy but his look quickly became his fate. He hung around a lot with Haymitch and Chaff after his victory. But he also gladly talked to me.

He had two years until they began to sell his body. I remember the evening he came to our floor, shaking with fear and telling us everything. It was the first time I became aware of the dread some victors had to deal with. Haymitch immediately knew there was no way out without getting Finnick's loved ones killed. But he helped him as much as he could. I automatically wondered if they attended the same with Haymitch. I don't know. I never found out. And to ask him such a thing would be totally rude.

He was sixteen at that time. Now, eight years later, he somehow got used to it. But he doesn't deserve going back to the arena.

Haymitch returns the look and anyone can see that he isn't pleased at all. Haymitch was for Finnick always a person he could look up to. Not a father, but someone he could trust.

We can do nothing more than follow the events on the screen. They're just recaps, we couldn't do anything even if we wanted. Yet still, my mouth falls open when Mags volunteers for Annie Cresta. Mags, another friend of Haymitch. Luckily, Katniss and Peeta sat down on the armchairs in front of us. They're too entranced by the screen to see my reaction.

As only living female victor from 7, Johanna gets reaped. Johanna always behaved very rude towards me. I don't like her very much.

Then Chaff is reaped and suddenly doubts casts in my head. It's so obvious, I need a second to think about it. This is Haymitch's squad. They're his family, part of his lonely life after his victory twenty five years ago. And as much as Haymitch wants to deny his feelings, he can't deny that those people became as close to a family as they ever could. Even I noticed that.

I risk a gaze at him and see his expression closing up. No evidence of weakness. Of course not, this is still Haymitch. Even in the arena, he would have a mocking smile on his lips. If he's angry, he hides it very good. He almost looks content.

The anthem begins to play and the screen goes black. Haymitch is immediately on his feet and leaves the car. Maybe he's angry. I grab my things with a sigh, wish Katniss and Peeta a good night, and make my way to my compartment. This is going to be a long night.

I tiredly put my clipboard and the other documents on the nightstand. Actually, I should lay down and try to sleep but I can't. Once I sit on my bed, it's obvious that I will never find sleep tonight.

I just embosomed them, almost lost them once and now they're going to make me lose them again. And that's what terrifies me the most. The Capitol is my home.

I boggle at my thought: how easy I call them my family. But it's true. Somehow. And after Katniss and Peeta survived the arena, I thought they were finally out of danger.

Achingly slow, I peel off my dress and put it back in the plenty filled wardrobe. Then I look for a nightgown. It's deep blue and hardly reaches my knees. I don't remove my wig and make-up. The others shall not see me without if I meet someone in the hallway.

I open the door and make a step into the hallway. My naked feet toddle silently over the carpeted floor. I like the tickling feeling the carpet leaves on my toes when I let my feet slide over it.

It's chilly around my legs but it's my size that bothers me the most. I'm at least one head smaller without high heels and I wear them ever so often that I virtually got used to it.

I hear a barely sensible breeze in the background, probably because the train moves so fast. I glance in the direction of the lobby and see a light shining. Of course I could look and see who of them is still awake and join but I never did so why should I do now? I want to stay alone tonight anyway, to clarify the mess in my head.

Carefully, I peer into the last car before I enter it quietly and close the door. At the end of the car, windows have been set into the walls so one can look out undisturbed. I drop down on the seating surface with a smile, bend my knees so they have space on the edge and look out into the never ending darkness of the night.