10.

There was no miracle cure to being drunk.

Chaff had some radical ways of sobering someone up. It consisted of throwing up a lot, drinking water and coffee by the galleons and napping in the car. When Chaff stopped his truck in front of Effie's house, it was bordering on one a.m. Haymitch had a headache but his mind was unfortunately clear. His balance wasn't all there but he shrugged off the hand his friend extended to help.

"Odd place." Chaff commented.

They didn't even have to knock. It was the advantage of having that many bay windows. She could see them from her couch in the living-room. They stare at each other through the glass for several seconds. He tried to judge her mood but her face was blank. She tugged her silk dressing gown tighter around herself and went to open the front door.

"Katniss has been asking for you." she said coldly. "I tried to call."

"You're going to lecture me?" he sneered.

"We said grovel, buddy." Chaff cut in, elbowing him. "Not antagonize her further."

He didn't know how to grovel. He didn't even know how to start apologizing. There were dark bruises on her neck in the shape of his fingers and he didn't know what to do about that either.

"Where's my kid?" he asked.

"In Peeta's room. She cried herself to sleep." Effie snapped. "Take a shower before going to see her. And brush your teeth. You reek."

She turned around and disappeared inside the house in the direction of what he thought to be the kitchen.

He left Chaff to follow her and found his own way to her bedroom and the en-suite bathroom. He was certain there were many more bathrooms in the house but he didn't fancy trying to find another one in that maze. He found towels under the sink and spare toothbrushes in the cupboard so he helped himself to both. His clothes smelled like liquor, sweat and smoke so he didn't put them back on, wandering to the bedroom, pondering the problem. He found a pair of sweatpants and a grey tee-shirt folded on the bed. The sweatpants were too long for him and it made him wonder what sort of giant she had been dating before him – assuming they were still dating – and the tee-shirt was soft, worn out and smelled like her. It was clearly a man size but it was a little tight on him.

"I told your friend he could go." He turned around to find her leaning against the doorframe. "There are enough guest rooms in the house."

It sounded hostile to his ears but her body language wasn't as much angry as hurt. Her arms were folded across her chest, her eyes were looking anywhere but at him and her lips were pursed in a tight line.

"I'm going to go see Katniss." he heard himself say. "Then we'll talk."

"I am not sure I want to talk." she retorted. "And you are nowhere near sober enough to have a serious conversation."

"I'm sober enough." he lied and then because stubborn and pig-headed as he was he could admit he had been acting like a jerk, not only to her but to his niece, he sighed. "I should have picked up the phone when you called."

"Katniss was inconsolable." she hissed. "It only grew worse after I dropped Peeta at his parents'. He was upset too if it's of any interest to you. So was I. And worried. Because you were drunk when you left and I couldn't reach you and I kept telling Katniss you were alright but for all I knew you could have been dead in a ditch somewhere."

Despite the gravity of the situation, he smirked. "You have a flare for melodrama."

"I am happy to know this is a laughing matter to you." she snapped with a glare that wasn't totally unwarranted and tears in her eyes he hated himself for.

"It's not... Look, sweetheart, I..." he sighed, not knowing where even to start. "You knew I had a problem with alcohol!"

It almost sounded like an accusation. She wrapped her arms more tightly around herself with obvious irritation.

"You hinted at it, you didn't say... I thought you were sober." she replied.

"I am sober." he scowled and then rolled his eyes. "Was. Will be. Whatever."

She shook her head. "I can understand a relapse but it is not the real problem, is it? You pushed me away. You..."

"I almost killed you." he growled. "Of course, I pushed you away."

"You didn't push me away because of this." she retorted, waving at her throat. "You pushed me away because I dared accuse you of being a good man. You completely lost your..."

"'Cause I'm not." he cut her off. "Stop saying I am."

She took a deep breath and then released it.

"You should go see Katniss." she advised. "You can take the blue guest room. It's the first door on the right after Peeta's room."

He didn't try to make a case for himself. He was still too unsettled and she was clearly angry and hurt.

The boy's room wasn't difficult to find, she had left the lights on for the girl's sake, it seemed. Katniss was on the cot specially meant for sleepovers. Peeta's bed was empty. He sat at the edge of the mattress and reached out for the kid's shoulder. She was curled up in a ball and her features were too tensed for her to be asleep. When his hand made contact with her shoulder she bolted, stabbing his arm with something that made him withdraw with a curse.

"So this is you and a pencil against the monsters?" he mocked, rubbing his arm. "See, this is why no one lets you make the plans."

"Uncle Haymitch!" she exclaimed, tossing her arms around his neck in a death grip. The hug was brief, barely enough time for him to breathe her in, then she crawled back against the pillow and stared at him with a scowl that could have rivaled Effie's. "You left me."

"Just had a few things I needed to take care of." he mumbled. "You had fun with Peeta and Effie?"

The scowl deepened. "You left me."

"Of course I didn't leave you." he scoffed. "I'm here, ain't I?"

"But you didn't come at school." she sulked. "And you didn't answer when Effie called you. I wanted to talk to you."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart." he sighed, feeling absolutely crushed with guilt. "I guess today wasn't a good day. Made a lot of mistakes."

"Like when I called Peeta a baby?" she asked.

"Yeah, just like that." he admitted.

"I had to apologize for that." she reminded him, wrinkling her nose.

"I apologize." he offered. "I shouldn't have left you with Effie without telling you first."

Katniss pursed her lips with obvious annoyance. "She made me pasta."

"Was it good?" he asked.

"No." she replied with her usual bluntness. "She says she doesn't know how to cook. I said it's okay and she can eat at home and you can cook for her too." Her grey eyes were accusing. "She looks sad. Did you call her a baby?"

"Something like that." he confessed, running a hand over his face. "Try to go to sleep, okay, sweetheart? I will stay until you're asleep."

"But I want to go home." Katniss argued in dismay. "I don't have my pajamas and Peeta's are too big and I don't have my Mockingjay and I want my Mockingjay."

"We can't go home right now." he winced. "I don't have the car."

"We'll walk." she declared.

"Well, if Effie's still angry in the morning, yeah, we probably will." he snorted. "Go to sleep."

In the end, he had to tell her Merida's story – a story both of them knew by heart at that point – to get her to sleep. Her hair was parted into two neat braids, he brushed the wayward strands away from her eyes and pressed a kiss on her forehead.

He was still afraid of hurting her, of failing her.

But he couldn't imagine a life without her anymore.

"I'm never leaving you again." he promised in a soft whisper. He didn't even know how he could have entertained the thought. "I'll do better."

He found the blue guest room easily but he didn't stop there. He crept back to her bedroom in the dark corridors. The lights were off in her room and she was in bed but he didn't let that stop him. She wasn't asleep.

He might not have known her for very long but he knew her well enough.

He sat on the side of the bed she wasn't lying on, watching her back.

"I'm tired, Haymitch." she said defensively. "It's too late to argue now."

"I shouldn't have gotten drunk." he admitted. "Didn't touch a drop since Katniss arrived. I want to promise it won't happen again, sweetheart, I really want to, but..."

"Your relapse is really not the issue here." she cut him off. "You said things... I know you were drunk and I shouldn't hold it against you but if you really think those things about me..."

"I don't even remember much of what I said..." he cringed. "If it's about the 'you're not that good' comment..."

"It's about you accusing me of trying to steal Katniss." she snapped. "Do you think that's what I do? Steal children? Do you think that's what I did with Peeta? Rip him away from his family?"

Her voice broke and, despite the fact that he couldn't see her face, he knew she was trying not to cry. With a sigh at the mess he had made, he nudged her shoulder until she rolled on her back. Her head remained turned but he brushed his hand against her cheek, gently forcing her to look at him. Moonlight spilled from the window making it easy for him to study her features.

"Effie, I'm a nasty drunk." he told her seriously. "I always strike where it hurts. And I wanted your feelings to be hurt so you would get away from me." His fingers trailed down her cheek to her throat. The bruises were obvious even in the darkness. "I could have killed you this morning."

"You didn't." she replied. "You wouldn't. It was my fault, I should have known better than shaking you like that."

"If that happens again, you get away from me." he muttered. "I'm dangerous."

"That's implying that I will be sleeping in the same bed as you again." she scoffed. "I am not certain I am good enough for that. Apparently – how did you put it, ah yes – banging me a few times doesn't..."

"I'm a stupid man." he cut her off gently. He stretched his legs on the immaculate covers and lied down on his side, watching her. She didn't tell him to get lost so he reached out again and grabbed her hand, his thumb running over her knuckles. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. About everything."

"You are a stupid man." she granted, rolling on her side so they could lie face to face. A smile played on her lips for a second and then it disappeared and she averted her eyes. "I don't mean to tell you how to raise your niece and I certainly don't mean to steal your child but..."

"I don't think that." he frowned. "I told you, I just wanted you to get away from me. I don't think you steal kids. I get what you did for Peeta. He deserves better than his crappy parents. He deserves you."

She swallowed with obvious difficulties but kept her eyes away from his.

"Be that as it may." she whispered. "You cannot do what you did today again, Haymitch. You cannot put Katniss through that again. She was terrified from the moment I told her she would be coming with me. She thought you were gone. She thought... I don't know how she was told about her family but I think she thought you were dead."

He let out a painful breath, rolled on his back and pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes.

"I knew I would screw up." he mumbled. "That kid deserves better than me. I'm a piece of trash."

"You are good with her." Effie countered and when he opened his mouth to object, she lifted a hand. "No, you are. Today... Today was just unfortunate."

"I freaked out." he admitted, turning his head to look at her. She was impossibly beautiful and he still didn't quite get what she saw in him. And the bruises around her neck were making his blood boil in the wrong way. He hated himself for having hurt her.

"You were upset from the nightmare and about hurting me, I know." she sighed. "It wasn't entirely your fault and I understand that but..."

"You said I was a good man. It set me off." he mumbled. It was his turn to avoid her eyes. "There are triggers."

For a few seconds she remained silent and then she tentatively placed a hand on his forearm, running her fingers up and down in a soothing gesture. "You mentioned children..."

He shut his eyes tight, willing the dread and terror not to twist his stomach anymore, willing the nausea to pass and the images to leave his head...

"Forty-eight of them. Dead." he answered. "My fault." Her hand stilled on his arm but he forced himself to continue. "I'm not a good man, sweetheart."

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" she asked softly.

Did he want to tell her? No. Did she have a right to know if they were serious about trying something? Yes. He was a killer, that was the kind of things that should have been out there.

"It's classified, you can't tell anyone." he warned her. He shouldn't have been telling her to begin with but he was blaming the liquor for this bout of honesty. He kept his eyes closed though, he didn't want to see. "Not much to say really. It was during that op that cost Chaff his hand..."

"And your scars." she pointed out, her hand moving from his arm to his chest. It rested lightly on his stomach, right over the biggest scar.

"Yeah." he nodded. "Op went to shit. We'd been on the ground for a while, trying to get civilians to help us overthrow their government… I was in charge… Then another squad showed up one day I'd left Tactics, took over… They posed as the enemy and bombed a school to make the population turn against the power in place and join the rebels. I should have been in Command, I should have stopped them, I could have pulled rank… Something… But I was on the ground instead and it was a nightmare. We lost a lot of people. Only three of us made it out: me, Chaff and Enobaria. The kids... They bombed the kids right under our nose... Hummingbird Op, they called it. Bullshit. The whole thing. Bullshit."

She wriggled closer to him and he instinctively grabbed her, drawing her in his arms burying his nose in her hair. He liked her perfume. He had hated it at first because it was musky and expensive and absolutely too fancy but now he liked it. It soothed his nerves.

"I'm not a good man, sweetheart." he murmured, his voice tight with pain. "A good man would have saved those kids."

She cupped his cheek and pressed a light kiss against his lips. "I fail to see how this was your fault. You didn't take the decision..."

"Still couldn't save them. Couldn't save most of my team either." he cut her off. "Should have been in Tactics but Chaff was in trouble so I went on the field. My call. My fault."

"There is a difference between killing and not being able to save someone." she countered softly. "I still think you are a good man." He bristled and she pressed another kiss against his lips. "Hush now. I won't say it again if it upsets you so."

His grey eyes fell on her throat and he pursed his lips tight. "I'm a mess, sweetheart. You should get out of this while you can."

"But I do not want to get out." she objected. "Your behavior today was awful and I am still angry, make no mistakes, but I do not want to get out, Haymitch. This, what we have... I cannot say I expected it or that I was looking for it but I really like you."

He ran his fingers through her hair, watching the curls bounce back into place.

"I can't handle you getting hurt." he finally confessed. "Not on my watch and not by my hands. It's too much."

Getting attached was already foolish. Getting attached only brought pain. He should have known better, he really should have.

"It won't happen again." she insisted, snuggling closer to his side until she could find a comfortable position to sleep in. "Next time I will know what to do."

"You're awfully cool with almost getting strangled." he pointed out.

"Like I said, show business is not a nice place. Trust me you do not want to know what some people in LA are into." she huffed.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her tighter, wishing he could have protected her from those people with weird kinks she had obviously not been that much into. He was still buzzed and he was feeling the weight of the day on his shoulders. It wouldn't be long before he crashed. He pressed a long kiss against her forehead and moved as if to get off the bed. She didn't let him. Her arm tightened its grip on his waist.

"Where are you going?" she frowned.

"To sleep in the guest room." he answered.

"Don't be ridiculous." she scoffed and that was the end of that.

"You just said you were still angry." he argued.

"Which means you are not getting any sex until I am satisfied you learned your lesson, not that I am chasing you away." she retorted.

He relented because she was insistent and he was tired. It was a source of stress to know he would be sleeping next to her and might hurt her again but he needed to trust she would do the clever thing this time or there was no hope for them altogether. They settled down with him spooning her.

"Haymitch..." she whispered and he startled a little because he had been on the verge of slumber. "Please, do not accuse me of stealing children again. That's Liddy's favorite argument... She loves to remind me I cannot have them and thus argues I am using Peeta as a substitute. Sometimes I worry she is right."

"That woman's a bitch and you're better than that." he growled. "Don't listen to people, they're assholes. You love the kid. The kid loves you. That's all that matters."

He included himself in that assholes comment. He had hurled that at her head earlier knowing it would hurt. He wasn't the good man she painted him out to be.

"Still." she breathed out. "Please, next time you are angry with me... Don't use that argument."

He pressed a kiss on her neck, mindful of the bruises. "I promise."

I think Haymitch is in for a lot of groveling XD Did you like it? Hate it? Let me know!