Rating: T
Author: BlinkYourEyes
Summary: "Haymitch…Haymitch, I'm…I'm pregnant." She breathed, sniffling. Haymitch froze, his breath stopping. A child. A baby. Their baby. Now he had to win. The story of when Haymitch had been picked for the Hunger Games, and how Effie was involved.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hunger Games. Only the original characters that I create.
Haymitch's mother swallowed the lump of fear in the back of her throat as she smoothed down her only sons shirt. Haymitch's large hand came up and wiped the tear that slid down his mothers' cheek. "It'll be fine, mom. I promise." He said, kissing her cheek. His mother bit down on her cheek, wondering if it was right of her to tell him what his girlfriend had told her earlier that morning; and she wondered if that would keep him home from the games, had his name been drawn this year. But the alarm sounds, and Haymitch is off, running towards the heart of District 12. She follows, wiping her tears.
He saw her before she saw him. Though the District 12 air was heavy, he felt a large weight lift off of his shoulders at the sight of her. Effie Trinket turned, a small smile playing at her lips when she caught sight of him. Her hair hung in small ringlets around her shoulders, and she wore a light coat of make up with a simple pink summer dress.
It was the day of the reaping. They were separated; boys on one side, girls on the other. Then into age groups. Effie was taken from the crowd, and placed on stage, where she took a seat. She was sixteen. Her name had never been placed in the bowl, since she was not a year round member of District 12. She spent the school years in 12 with her father, and the summers in the Capitol, with her mother.
Haymitch was eighteen. It was the last year he could be drawn for the Games. The odds had been in his favor since he was twelve, and he hoped he'd be just as lucky this year. He could see Effie on stage, playing with her hands nervously, her breathing becoming shaky, and her foot rapidly tapping. He wanted to just go up there and take her in his arms, and tell her that he isn't going anywhere. But he couldn't promise that, and the Peacekeepers surrounding them kept him in place.
The escort smiled as the video stopped playing, nervously licking her lips. "Ladies first!" She called in her chipper voice, walking over to the bowl with the girls' names. Everything was silent as she reached in and pulled out a name. "Maysilee Donner!" She called out, loud and clear. Haymitch's eyes caught a girl across the Square, one with long dark hair and fair skin. He swallowed as he watched her twin sister clutch onto her, and her best friend. "Now for the boys!" The escort continued, welcoming Maysilee on stage. She walked over to the boys bowl, and reached in. Haymitch swallowed, his hands balling into fists. The escort cleared her throat, and unfolds the scrap of paper. "Haymitch Abernathy!" She called, looking out into the crowd of boys expectantly.
It feels as if the whole world was crashing down onto his chest as Haymitch looked at Effie. She had fallen to the ground, her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking violently with sobs. That was the only thing that had motivated him to go up on that stage. He rushed towards her, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her back gently. "Shhh…" He cooed. "It's ok. I'm going to win, I promise." He assured. "Shh…"
She quietly cried into his chest as the crowd watched on. "Haymitch…Haymitch I'm…I'm pregnant." She sniffled, looking up at him with innocent blue eyes. She bit down on her bottom lip to keep herself from crying. Haymitch stared at her, freezing up. Pregnant. A baby. A family. His family. Without another word, he got up and stood before the crowd, avoiding his mothers worried glances and the quiet sobs behind him. He would do this. Now he had something worth fighting for, something to really get back to. This year would be his year. But then again, he felt stupid. He felt scared and frightened. He felt like a teenager who had just gotten his girlfriend pregnant. And the feeling was somewhat relieving; it showed him that he was still a child, being forced to grow up way to fast. He stole a glance at his mother, who nodded slightly, casting her eyes down. So she knew before he did.
The escort, who had bright green hair down to her waist, braided in a strange fashion, cleared her throat for the hundredth time.. "For this years Quarter Quell, we are to double the amount of tributes from each district." She announced, and with that, she strides over to the girls bowl and fishes out a name. Two more tributes. Another boy and another girl. Haymitch sighed, and knew that even if this hadn't been the case for this years Quarter Quell, he would've been picked anyway. "Quila Stickman!" She yelled.
A tall, blonde, pale girl walked up to the stage, her face solemn. She was fourteen. She used to have other siblings that Haymitch had gone to school with, but all of which had been killed in previous years of the Games. Haymitch looked to her mother, who had tears streaming down her face. He wondered what it must've felt like; having to see everyone you love die year after year, until there's barely any of them left. All poor Mrs. Stickman had left was her ill husband, Quila, and her twelve-year-old son, Benti, left. There was no doubt in Haymitch's mind that little Benti would be chosen next year. The escort wandered over to the boys bowl, and stuck her hand in. She blinked rapidly before reading over the name.
"Benti Stickman!" She chirped. Or maybe this year. Haymitch could hear Mrs. Stickman screaming, crying, and begging for a re-draw. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her dive for her son, sobbing, and being pulled away by Peacekeepers. "We give you this years tributes! Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" The escort grinned. Haymitch wasn't paying attention. All he could hear was Effie's sobs behind him, and the words she had told him. He felt Benti's hand interlock with his, and looked at the other tributes, which were hold hands and had their arms raised. He did the same, trying not to cry.
After the reaping, the tributes were given time to gather themselves and say their good-byes. Haymitch whispered in Effie's ear. "I'll be right back." He whispered, kissing the top of her head. He headed off the stage towards his mother, Peacekeepers on his tail.
Sadeen Abernathy embraced him tightly, crying silently. "I'll be alright mom. I promise. Just…take care of Effie. And the baby. Please." He sighed, pulling away from his mother.
"Sweetheart, I won't be able to. The summer starts next week, she'll be leaving for the Capitol this weekend." Sadeen shook her head, holding Haymitch's face in her hands. "I'm sure her mother can do a well enough job." She added. "Go speak with her. She's obviously very upset and I doubt she'll listen to anyone but you right now. Go on, I'll meet you at home and help you pack." She encouraged, shooing him towards Effie.
He made his way back up to the stage and sat down beside Effie on the floor. She looked up at him with sad eyes. "Please don't leave me." She whimpered, biting down on her lip. He sighed, holding her close to him.
"You know I have to, Ef. I'm going to do this for us. For the baby. I promise." He reassured, petting her soft curls. "I'll see you this weekend, alright?" He asked, looking into her bright blue eyes. "Alright?" He asked again when she didn't reply. She nodded, giving him a shaky sigh. "Good." He replied, lifting her chin with his thumb. "It's going to be alright." He whispered, leaning in and kissing her tenderly. "I'll see you soon." With that, he gave her a last hug good-bye and made his way back home, helping his mother pack.
A/N: So, what'd you think? Should I continue?