Hi ! Thank you all for your comments and reactions to this story ! Someone made me see yesterday on Tumblr that I hadn't been very clear concerning updates. I meant it would take the prompt place so as usual Saturday is my day off and Sunday is zombie day so Part 3 will come tomorrow and Part 4 on Monday and so on.
Part 2
Haymitch ran to Command as quickly as he could, the communicator on his wrist angrily beeping for him to go faster. The room was empty except for Plutarch and Fulvia who were facing one of the giant screens on the wall.
"Ah, there he is." Plutarch smiled.
Haymitch made a beeline for the screen, panting without shame from his impromptu sprint from the hospital. His time, since he had arrived in Thirteen two weeks earlier, had been spent fighting through his withdrawal and sitting at Katniss' bedside. The girl was so pumped up on meds, she wasn't even aware of his presence. It was probably for the best.
His heart raced when he saw the familiar face of his escort. Plutarch had warned him that the lack of communication was to be expected but it hadn't stopped Haymitch from worrying about her. The Gamemaker's other contacts had been equally silent and they were totally in the dark as to what was happening in the Capitol.
"Are you alright?" he asked her before anything else could be said.
Her communicator was obviously not of the best quality or she was having difficulties getting through to Thirteen. The image kept flickering. He couldn't glimpse much behind her. She seemed to be sitting on a roof somewhere, he could see the dark night sky and the outline of Capitol buildings behind her… He knew that view. It was the Training Center's roof, the only place free of bugs.
"Perfectly fine." she replied with a reassuring smile that didn't reach her eyes. Her voice slightly distorted by statics.
"Start your report, please." Plutarch ordered.
Haymitch bristled at being so quickly shut off but Effie didn't seem to mind. She summed up what happened after the arena exploded, how escorts and Gamemakers had been confined to the Training Center ever since. They were being questioned regularly, one after the other, but so far, nothing too dire had happened. When Fulvia expressed concern, Effie swore that they didn't suspect her involvement in any way but were wary of her connections with Twelve and with Haymitch in particular.
More interestingly was the fact that Peeta was detained in the penthouse. Haymitch breathed more freely all of a sudden. All the more so when she promised he was fine for the most part.
"They're shooting interviews." Effie concluded with a frown. "Propaganda. They won't hurt him as long as he accepts to work with them but… He's becoming more and more difficult to handle."
"You are still acting as his escort, then?" Plutarch asked.
"Yes." she nodded. "They trust me as far as they can throw me but since he listens to me… That won't last long though. He's starting to blame me. Should I break cover and…"
"Negative." Plutarch cut her off. "We need you in there. Gather intel. What else can you tell us?"
Haymitch remained silent for the rest of the discussion. He didn't see how they could use tiny bits of information about one Gamemaker or another. They were all locked up anyway. As for Johanna and the other victors, Effie didn't think they were in the Training Center.
"Do you have a way to get out if shit hits the fan?" he asked her once Fulvia and Plutarch were satisfied with her answers.
"Language, Haymitch." She clucked her tongue. "Nothing justifies vulgarity."
"Not even someone lying through her teeth to her friend about her political opinions?" he snorted bitterly.
Her face contorted in visible guilt. "Believe it or not, I am sorry."
"We will bring those news to President Coin." Plutarch cleared his throat, nudging Fulvia out of the room. "Don't stay too long, Effie. Now is not the time for recklessness. Stay safe."
She nodded but Haymitch felt this call for caution was unnecessary, her eyes were already regularly darting over her communicator to check that nobody was coming or spying on her.
"You lied to me." he accused as soon as they were alone.
"You did too." she pointed out.
"It's different." he snapped, leaning against the table, folding his arms over his chest.
"How?" she asked softly. Her blue eyes dropped in sadness. "I did what I could for you, Haymitch. I recommended you for recruiting. I tried to get them to recruit you for years. It took Cinna to convince them. I am still too Capitol for them, even now."
"Why did you do it?" The question was a constant riddle in his mind. "Plutarch said it's because of something I said. What was it?"
Her laugh sounded like little bells and it was so painfully familiar even across the bad communication, Haymitch's chest tightened. "You're always so prompt to think everything I do revolves around you… Is it so hard to believe I am a decent person after all?"
"You always were a decent person." he grumbled, averting his eyes. "You live to annoy me, that's all."
"Well, then… I hope I shall annoy you for a very long time yet." Her smile faded slowly. "If anything were to happen to me…"
"Don't." he ordered. "You're getting out of there alive. You hear me?"
She didn't promise anything of the sort. "You look awful."
He was well aware of how he looked. His skin had turned a sickly yellow from alcohol withdrawal and he had already lost weight. He didn't look at his face in the mirror if he could help it but he knew there were bags under his eyes and that the stubble was threatening to turn into a beard.
"So do you, Princess." he shot back. "The clown called, he wants his make-up back."
"Your gibe were never funny." Yet an amused smile was floating on her lips, it disappeared quickly enough. "I need to go back inside or they might notice my absence. I don't know when I will be able to contact Command again… Haymitch, I…" Her voice trailed off and she forced herself to smile again. He knew it was fake because it was strained. He also knew it was for his sake rather than hers. "Stay safe."
"Stay alive, sweetheart." His words seemed to please her and sadden her at the same time. It was his traditional farewell to their tributes. The ultimate advice he could give.
It felt exactly the same as each time he had sent a kid in the arena, except it was worse. If anything, it was equal to seeing Katniss and Peeta being sent back. She was over there, in danger, out of reach and he couldn't do anything to protect her except hoping she would do the clever thing.
It was probably a bad time to realize he cared a bit more than he had thought.
Yet when the screen went black he couldn't deny the fear that was gripping his heart.
