The next day Effie found Haymitch face down in bed, knife still in hand and wet with blood.

Her face went pale, waiting for him to take a breath, holding her own. She stared at him, trying to find where he had done the damage. She noticed then that his back was rising and falling with his breathing, and that it had been imagined danger, on her part.

She rested a hand on his back, shaking him slightly. "H-Haymitch...It's time to get up...come on..." No movement at first. She shook him a little harder. "Haymitch...come on...get up."

He stirred slightly, moaning. "No..."

She giggled, then relieved to hear his voice. "Yes, Haymitch. Come on."

He sat up, knife still in hand, and turned to her. "You're still here..."

She blushed, taken off guard. Truthfully, she was admiring his bare chest and his befuddled expression. But she would never admit that. "What?"

"You usually shake me awake, then leave...?"

"Haymitch..." She rested her hand on his that held the knife. "What are you doing to yourself..." She sat down on the bed beside him, her hand still on his. "Y-You know...if...If there's something...you want to talk about...if it would make you feel better...You...You can talk to me..."

He didn't reply, simply stared at her, trying to hide his surprise and keep himself from doing what he really wanted to- hug her, thank her, tell her everything just to have someone that would know other than Chaff...

"W...what did you do...?" She studied him further, noticing the large white scar acrossed his abdomen from his victory; other long-healed scars on his collarbone, his shoulders, his chest...Then the red and pink hue of the fresh scars on his upper arms caught her eye. "Haymitch..." She reached out to touch them, gently, hoping that somehow magic would become real and she would be able to heal them with just her touch...

No such luck was reached, however, as he jerked away from her before she could touch him. "Don't worry about it."

She cleared her throat, her face flushing a bright red hue under her makeup. "Yes...well..get ready, Haymitch."

He obeyed her, his head spinning and simply going through the motions of preparation. She knew...she knew how he was...

Still numb, he stumbled to wherever she had given him directions to go- he didn't really know. Johanna waited for him, still shaken and angry from last night. She regarded him furiously with nearly hollow eyes.

"Haymitch." The word was loaded with venom on her lips.

He sighed, dreading her presence. "JOhanna...listen.."

"I am, Haymitch. Oh, believe me I am."

He wanted to roll his eyes at her, call her a crazy bitch. But he figured that wouldn't be the best option at this point. "I'm sorry..."
"Oh? for what?"

"Screaming at you...scaring you..."

"NOT for kicking me out and not letting me help you?"

"...No...?"

"Hmm." She regarded him with less fury, but with an air of superiority. "I'm still breaking up with you, Mitch."

"What? When the HELL were we together?!" He felt a stinging pain on his cheek, and it took him a moment to realize that she had actually slapped him- hard, too.

"YOU POMPOUS ASS!" She shoved him into a capitol light fixture. "WE HAD SEX AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN THINK WE WERE TOGETHER?! YOU WERE JUST USING ME?!"

He simply stared at her, bewildered-first of all that she had reacted this way, and second of all that she had thought they were together. She stomped away, mumbling to herself.
As crazy of a bitch as she was, he had to admit- she was at least company. He, in reality, only had Chaff.
That night, he didn't want bothered even with Chaff's company. He snuck to the bar on his own accord, and before he knew it, he was drooling on the bar, somewhere between unconscious and asleep.