Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me except the mistakes as this is un-beta'd.

Happy reading.

The Escort

Chapter Seven

A few days later…

Haymitch only returns to their floor of the Games Centre when he's a hundred percent sure neither of his Tributes will be surgically altered in his absence. He is loathed to leave them at all but he hasn't slept in over twenty four hours and he knows he will be no good to them when they wake up if he doesn't have at least some rest. Because he will need to more than some good to them – frankly he's going to need to be a miracle worker to get them all out, unscathed from this.

It's the end of the Games and he still has his Tributes. Both of them. Both of them survived and are now Victors. For the first time in the seventy four year history of the Games there is not a sole winner. For once he was able to save them.

But he isn't stupid and he knows the Capitol better than most. Snow is surely furious – Katniss showed them up when she told Peeta they didn't need a Victor and readied the pair of them to take the nightlock berries. Such a clear show of disobedience will not go unpunished, no matter how hard Haymitch is trying to prove they were too crazy in love with each other to act rationally.

He draws a hand up to cover his haggard face as he enters the living area of their suite. When he drops it again he is convinced for a full minute that the vision of Effie waiting on the sofa in front of him is nothing more than a hallucination dreamed up by his overtired mind.

When she finally stands to greet him and he realises she is in fact real he almost wants to cry with the relief of it. She's the only person he needs to see and somehow she is there.

She has clearly snuck away from some end of Games celebration. Her dress is plain for Capitol standards, so she couldn't have been at some grand affair, she was probably at a smaller, more informal gathering. Though, because it is one of the more plainer things he has seen her in, he thinks it is also one of the more lovely – lilac in colour, floor length and floaty with a slit cut down to almost her bellybutton and a rather ostentatious flower on the collar by her neck. She's combined it with a short, flapper-style bobbed wig complete with a heavy fringe and smouldering make-up. On second thoughts it's not really plain at all but she looks a lot less clown-like than she sometimes does and he's so very glad for that.

As he stands there, contemplating her in blessed silence, the reality suddenly hits him and he springs into action, strolling towards her:

"Are you crazy?!" He hisses, unsure if there are any listening ears in the penthouse this late at night. "What are you doing here now of all times?"

"Don't worry, I was careful. No one followed me and no one's here but us." She reassures him. By this time they've met in the middle of the room and stand close to each other without touching. "Are the children alight?"

"For now."

"This is messy Haymitch." She tells him seriously. Funnily enough he's worked that much out for himself. His huff of annoyance is the only response. "They're angry. Really angry and I don't know what they're going to do. She's shown them up and they won't take it lightly. There will be retribution."

He's knows all of that too but somehow hearing someone else say it, confirming what he has been thinking for hours is making it all a hell of a lot scarier.

"I know. We're going to have to try and prepare them."

Effie looks down, unable to meet his eye. The look on her face is even graver than it was before.

"I can't help you anymore." He stares at her intently but does not answer. "They're going to be all over you now, all of the time. If we carry on someone will find out." Still Haymitch remains silent. "I don't care what they'd do to me anymore but I care what they'd do to you."

"What could they do to me?" He interrupts bitterly. "Who else have I got left that they could use?"

"You've got the children now." She reaches out for him, pulling him even closer so he cannot help but be entirely focused on her as she continues: "You have to look after them Haymitch."

She stares him out until he finally nods in agreement – a silent promise he will do just that. And suddenly at the natural end to their conversation Effie begins to cry. This is the final goodbye. She reaches up and wraps her arms around his neck in an intimate and strong embrace. He doesn't want to but he finds himself clinging on to her with just as much force. He turns his head to take in her scent that has become familiar to him over the last decade. And then they stand completely still for several moments just holding each other.

It's probably a good thing Haymitch is so preoccupied with how in the hell he is going to keep the kids alive and okay now. Otherwise he might have the time to contemplate just how much of an absence Effie is about to leave in his life. Somewhere along the line, completely without him realising or wanting it to happen, she has become just about the only thing that keeps him going: her and the idea that one day things would be different for them.

When Effie finally pulls apart from him she turns and gives him a lingering kiss on the cheek. It's wet from her tears but it's a promise for things that could never be and any doubts he has ever had about the authenticity of her feelings evaporate then and there.

"Goodbye Haymitch, take care of yourself too." She sniffs and turns to leave.

Like so many times before he stops her with a hand on her arm. He kisses her then. He's known her for twelve years, been in love with her for a lot more of that time than he would care to admit and yet this is their first kiss. As kisses go it's pretty terrible. Too wet and wobbly on account of the crying and him trying to keep himself from crying and it catches her off guard a little though she makes no effort to stop it.

"It won't always be this way, it can't be." He tells her, murmuring against her lips. It sounds like he is trying to convince himself more than anything. "One day, when all of this is over, when there's no more Games and no more escorting, I'm going to find you and marry you and we're going to be happy." She smiles because it sounds like such a nice little dream – a dream they both know can never really be. "So you just stay alive, do you hear me? All you have to do is survive and stay alive and when this all done I'll find you."

He's never dared to imagine a life without the Games and Snow and the rest of it. It has always seemed too terrible to him to dream of such things. But with her, the only thing more terrible than daring to imagine a different world, is to not imagine it.

"I'll try." She vows. "Stay alive yourself, okay?" He nods his vow in return.

Effie breaks away from their embrace slowly, she wipes the running mascara from her face, straightens her back and walks away without a backward glance.