Submission for day 5 of Hayffie week (Angst!). This is based on book!canon Effie, where she is imprisoned in the Capitol. I've played around with this idea of Effie losing her memory, and I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out :)

EFT x


He watched closely as her trembling fingers struggle to pick up the puzzle piece, before attempting to slot it into place in the half-finished puzzle. They'd been working on this puzzle every day since the day she got here. That day was a year and a half ago. The puzzle wasn't even very complex and, if Haymitch had been helping her out at all, it would have been finished a long time ago. But the doctors had instructed Haymitch to leave Effie to her own devices. It'd help improve her functioning and all manner of psychological things Haymitch was too stubborn to accept or understand.

He remembered the day they told him the damage which had been done to Effie during her imprisonment. A few wounds, broken bones…typical things each of the rescued prisoners had. He'd zoned out a few minutes into the discussion, but the words 'head trauma' brought him back into full consciousness. The doctor went on to explain that Effie had suffered significant head injuries, potentially caused by the explosion they used to break into the prison. They'd patched her up as best they could, but the damage to her brain was most likely irreparable. Now, Effie was stuck in a state of being convinced she was 24, the year before she became an escort. Haymitch had been told there was no way she could be away from the appropriate medical care, at least not at this stage, so she was admitted to a small residential hospital.

Part of Haymitch wanted to run, disassociate himself from the trauma he'd caused to this poor woman he'd had in his life for so many years. He knew this was her fault because he wasn't persistent enough with her the night the arena exploded during the Quell. He'd been angry at her lack of cooperation with him and his last words to her as he stalked out of the penthouse on that fateful night had been "go fuck yourself".

He hated that fact. His last memory of the Effie he knew had been a terrible one. Part of him hoped she'd never remember it.

But he knew he owed it to her. When it really came down to it, Effie had been the only friend he had left if he didn't count Katniss and Peeta. He knew he couldn't abandon her.

He stayed in District 12 after the Capitol fell, taking a hovercraft to the Capitol every weekend. He told Katniss it was to collect his liquor because he was tired of waiting for the delivery train to arrive, and he was partly telling the truth. However, the main purpose of his visits were to see Effie. He spent each Saturday and Sunday with her, working on that damn jigsaw the neurologist had provided to improve her coordination. But her lack of coordination wasn't the worst part.

Effie also had a diagnosis of amnesia. Each week when Haymitch visited, he had to reintroduce himself. He'd been told to tell her he was a therapist too, as Effie had no ability to grasp the concept that her brain had been so damaged. It was easier for her to associate him with the medical care she knew she was receiving, as it was a daily thing. If he'd told her he was an old friend, it would confuse her and cause her a lot of distress. It had happened the first time he'd visited. He'd tried to explain who he was and it had scared her so much, she had to be sedated.

So, that was how he spent every weekend. She remembered him for those two days and by the next week, he was a stranger to her once more.

Seven months after Effie's admission to the hospital, Haymitch was given some troubling news of his own. He'd become increasingly unwell and, after much persuasion from Katniss, he'd attended the hospital for a checkup. The news he received didn't shock him or scare him. He knew it would happen one day, although he hadn't expected it to be so soon.
His liver was failing and he would be dead within the year. He had the option of a transplant which could potentially save his life, but he opted against it. He didn't deserve to take the opportunity to live from someone who really did deserve it.
So, he began a course of medication to keep his symptoms at bay and poured all of his focus into visiting Effie in the Capitol.

As his own illness progressed, the travelling between 12 and the Capitol became exhausting, but he didn't want to give up on her. So, when he knew he only had a few months left, he spent the rest of his Games winnings on an apartment in the Capitol right beside the hospital. He began to visit her every other day, giving himself a day to rest in between. She did start to recognise him slightly, her eyes taking on some new kind of gleam every time he walked in. She never once acknowledged that she knew him, but he definitely saw a difference.

But that day, a year and a half since Effie's admission to the hospital, he knew it would be his last visit to her. He knew he could still have visited her at least twice more, but he wanted to let her forget him entirely before the inevitable happened.

He barely spoke that day and, when the time of his visit came to an end, he simply got up and pressed a letter he'd written into her hand.
"Don't open it yet," he mumbled before leaving without another word.

He died 9 days later.

xXx

Effie liked to be independent in this strange new place she lived. Since she was a young girl, she'd kept herself in a good routine and the kind people who came to see how she was every day always tried to keep her right.

She was in the process of doing her laundry and always made sure to check the pockets of her clothing before putting them in the washer. It was this particular day when she found a neatly folded piece of paper in the pocket of the cardigan she'd worn a few days ago. She unfolded the paper and began to read the messy handwriting.

Effie,

You're not going to understand any of this but I need to write it now and give it to you. The doctor's say you're making some progress with your memory, so maybe one day this'll all make sense.

I'm Haymitch, the 'therapist' who's been visiting you ever since you got here. I know you don't remember me each time I visit, but it's entirely my fault.

We used to work together before you ended up in this place. We were…friends, if I can call it that. Sure, we used to fight, but we were a team as you so often reminded me. Anyway, we worked on the annual Hunger Games for district 12, you as an escort and me as a mentor.

A couple years ago, there was a war and you were taken from me. I didn't keep you safe and I hate myself for it. They did this to you because of me. Because I was stupid and selfish.

I know you don't remember, but you had a life. You had a career extending beyond your current recollection and it kills me to know you don't remember.

The reason I'm writing this letter is because I'm not going to be around much longer. I'm sick and I'm dying…fuck, if you remembered the way I used to drink, you'd tell me it was my own fault. Which it is. I fucked up these past few years, so I think dying is a pretty good relief. And the best part is, it isn't going to hurt you, because you'll read this letter and promptly forget.

I'm going to end this here with one final thing. The reason your situation hurts me so much is because I loved you. I still do, I guess. I just hate that I'll never be able to tell you that.

Haymitch.

Effie frowned and reread the letter before wandering off down the corridor, the letter still clutched in her hand. She approached the nurses station and got one of the nurse's attentions.

"I found this letter in my cardigan. It's addressed to me, but I don't think it's for me. I've never met anyone called Haymitch.