TUESDAY IS AMONG US! You'll be upset. It starts off so well and then… well… the odds still aren't in Haymitch and Effie's favor yet LOL. PATIENCE =)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Words: 2,713

The confidence she had displayed when she left Haymitch's quickly evaporated.

By the time she started putting on her face she had to start over and reapply her makeup three different times because her hands were shaking too badly.

Finally she was able to put on her face and apply her eyelashes and butterfly wings. Then she strategically placed a gold Mockingjay wig on her head, carefully putting it into place as to not disturb the butterfly wings.

Then she slid on her orange butterfly dress, snapping the halter top around her neck, and put on her pair of black pumps. She finished the ensemble with a pair of black lace gloves.

Afterwards she stared at herself, smoothing the dress down in some places.

Cinna was going to kill her when he saw the changes she'd made to his dress. Adding the butterflies had been her idea. He definitely would have talked her out of it if he had known.

And the wig? To boldly display the Mockingjay at a time like this was risky. However most people in the Capitol had no clue what it meant, so she was hoping most people would assume she didn't know either.

Satisfied that she looked good, Effie made her way off of the train, and towards the stage, where she'd give a performance of a lifetime.

On the way there she prayed that somehow, someway, all three of them would come out alive at the end of this thing.

XxXxXx

Cinna nearly wet himself when he saw Effie on stage. He made sure to keep his face blank and void of all emotions as he watched her walk on stage, gold Mockingjay wig high on her head, tight butterfly dress clutching her body.

He would kill her.

Portia dug her nails into his thigh as they sat along with the rest of the people of Panem, watching the Reaping live.

"Effie's dress is so cute," one Capitol puppet said, and Cinna whipped his head around. "Butterflies! How clever! I love it."

"She always did know how to dress," another bimbo commented.

These comments did nothing to calm him. Of course these people were too stupid to get it.

But its meaning would not be lost on President Snow.

"I have to get a wig like hers," another one said. "Mockingjays are so in."

Cinna gritted his teeth.

Yes, he was going to enjoy killing Effie Trinket.

He ordered another drink, something hard and bitter, and watched, a pleasant smile on his face, even as his insides were clenching.

The Peacekeepers marched Katniss, Peeta, and Haymitch towards the stage, giving the crowd their first glimpse of District 12 and the amount of Peacekeepers present, their guns pointed at the crowd.

Cinna nearly shared a glance with Portia, but refrained himself.

Instead he gripped her hand, which had probably left bruises on his skin.

The entire Reaping couldn't have taken more than a minute.

The longest part of the entire ordeal was the amount of time it took for Effie to withdraw the name that everyone knew for sure would be going back into the Arena.

"Katniss Everdeen," Effie finally said, and she stared at the girl apologetically. A single, loan tear traveled down Katniss' face and Cinna felt his heart stop.

Then Effie turned towards Haymitch and Peeta, and Cinna very much doubted that anybody, even President Snow, could make out the hurt and fear.

Effie would never forgive herself if Haymitch went back into the Arena.

With trembling hands she reached into the glass bowl, her long, dainty, painted fingers grabbing a piece of paper.

The entire crowd hushed in order to hear who it was. Cinna knew that most people were betting on Haymitch, former Victor of the last Quarter Quell. It would make for excellent TV.

Effie slowly, ever so slowly, opened up the piece paper, her hands shaking slightly.

Cinna knew her, so he knew the name on the piece of paper before she even said it.

He breathed a little easier.

Haymitch would not be going back into the Arena.

Peeta would.

Effie licked her lips and then said, her voice quivering ever so slightly, "Haymitch Abernathy.

And she frowned.

Portia dug her nails into his skin again, and Cinna knew that she had caught it too.

Effie was supposed to be happy, cheerful, excited even.

She was none of those things, and it showed.

At the very least she would lose her job, but if Snow already suspected her….

The crowd started to cheer, disrupting his train of thoughts, and the frown was gone so fast once Peeta volunteered, replaced even more briefly with relieved eyes as she looked up at Peeta.

Still, Effie wasn't making this easy, for them or herself. The video never played. Nor did she say the standard, "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

Katniss and Peeta took their respective places up front, next to Effie, and then they were whisked away without being allowed to say goodbye.

XxXxXx

Effie found her way to Haymitch's room shortly after they were forced on the train. She didn't knock. She just entered, closing the door behind her.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, closest to the door, and he looked as if he'd aged a million years within the last hour.

"I wondered how long it'd take you to get here," he said, his voice neutral. She just stared at him. "Got damn fucking butterflies. You're a fucking idiot, Effie."

"Haymitch," was all she was able to say before the tears threatened to spill. She walked up to him and pulled him to her, just holding him, feeling him, breathing him in.

"Princess," Haymitch muttered, stiff against her.

"Just give me ten seconds," she whispered, pulling him closer, and finally he relaxed, snaking his arms around her waist and burying his face in her stomach, breathing deeply as for the first time in probably twenty-five years, he let the emotions consume him.

But he didn't cry.

He'd never cry.

Not her Haymitch.

"I did this, Effie," he whispered to her. "I sent those kids back into the Arena."

He was free to talk openly. All the speakers played music, and would from here to the Capitol

"Haymitch," said Effie, pushing him back to look at him.

"I did. Snow wanted me back in that Arena. It's been too much going on since the berries, and figuring I'm the last person who openly defied the Capitol, and then Katniss, just like me in so many ways, comes along and does the same thing…." He rubbed his hands over his face. "All the Uprisings and shit…. Sending us into the Arena was logical, but I was so fucking blind sighted…. And fuck it to hell if I wasn't happy Peeta volunteered. I didn't wanna go back in. What does that mean? Who does that make me?"

"It makes you human, Haymitch Abernathy," Effie told him, bending down so she was eyelevel.

"I hate myself," admitted Haymitch.

She knew that feeling all too well, so she pulled him back into her, because it seemed like the right thing to do.

She wasn't sure how long they embraced, but he didn't pull away, and neither did she.

After a while she said, "The kids have to watch your Games." He jerked violently and she held him tighter. "I know. I'm sorry." She gently pushed him away and looked at him. "Petea told me yours are the only ones they haven't watched yet. I sent them all the Games months ago, but they haven't seen yours. But they have to."

He nodded and she slowly stood up.

"Dinner will be ready soon. I expect you dressed for the occasion."

She allowed her touch to linger before making her exit.

XxXxXx

Dinner was pretty much a silent affair, aside from a few pointless attempts at Peeta and her trying to make conversation.

She mentioned something about getting the boys a few gold trinkets so that everyone would know that they were a team, but she could tell she was falling on deaf ears when Haymitch said,

"Yah, whatever," without really looking at her.

She was actually relieved. That meant he wouldn't try and talk her out of it.

She was, after all, once again blatantly defying the Capitol.

After dinner they watched the Reaping recap, Peeta taking notes, and Effie making random comments to try and help, while Katniss and Haymitch both sat, sullen.

When Haymitch finally got up after awhile, without saying a word, she had the mind to follow him and comfort him. But she knew him. He needed to be alone.

He'd probably go and find one of the few bottles of wine she had, and she hoped he enjoyed it, because most of them had been poured down the sink in hopes that he wouldn't be tempted.

They all went off to bed afterwards, dinner having been a sordid affair, and Effie undressed, took off her makeup and wig, and showered after stopping outside Haymitch's door. She debated about going in but in the end decided against it.

She was asleep in seconds, and slept better than she had in months.

She was finally with the people she cared about the most.

XxXxXx

He surely had found one of her bottles of wine. She'd thrown out the good stuff, but he needed something to take the edge off.

Haymitch didn't sleep in the dark. There were too many things running through his mind. For once his head was back in the Rebellion now that the threat of having to return to the Arena was over.

There had been so many nightmares between the announcement of the Quarter Quell and this moment that one would think he'd try to sleep immediately.

But it was still dark, and the nightmares would come, so he'd will himself to stay awake until sunrise.

He walked into the living room and stopped abruptly as he recognized his Games.

He felt the bile at the back of his throat and took a large sip.

Then his eyes narrowed at Katniss as she fell out laughing, claiming that what he had done was just as bad as the berries.

"Almost, but not quite," Haymitch said, and the laughing stops abruptly as Katniss turned and faced him.

She seemed genuinely surprised that he wasn't going off on them for watching his Games, and he probably would have if Effie hadn't warned him first.

Effie.

What the fuck was going on with them?

Thinking about it made him take another drink, and he saw the way Katniss' eyes narrowed.

He was supposed to be sober.

But then her eyes changed as something seemed to click, like she finally understood something.

Probably him.

Because in watching his Games, she and Peeta probably now understood that yes, he too was a Rebel, and probably knew better than anyone how they felt.

With a smirk still on his lips, Haymitch left them alone.

He finished drinking in his room for a few hours, glancing out the window every now and then.

He had another half hour or so before sunrise, so he staggered his way out of his room and into the living room.

The kids were gone, but they'd left their mess behind him. Videos of Games were everywhere, as were Peeta's notes.

Cursing them he sighed and started cleaning up after them, the same way they'd done for him over the past few months.

He was nearly finished when he grabbed the tape out of the VCR. He had tossed it in the box full of the other tapes when he noticed something.

He grabbed the tape back out of the box and stared at it. Then he looked at the other tapes in the box.

His was different.

Every other tape had the year of the Games and the winner of that Game typed out neatly.

His Game, however, was handwritten, the writing a dainty and feminine. It wasn't her handwriting, but it was similar enough.

He felt the anger as realization hit him.

Effie Trinket owned a copy of his tape.

XxXxXx

Her door being slammed woke her up. She gasped and sat up, allowing her eyes to get used to the dark.

She smelled him before he sat on the bed.

"Haymitch? What is it?" asked Effie.

"You own my Games," he responded.

"What?"

"You have a copy of them."

"Yes…?"

"How?"

"My parents had several copies of the Games." She sat up, smoothing out her hair. "They recorded them for as long as I remember. When I moved out I took yours with me."

He felt his blood run cold. "Why?"

"Why?" Effie thought about it, smiling slightly, though Haymitch couldn't see. "I was quite smitten with you, even then."

He turned and faced her, squinting at her.

"It's true. You're still handsome, you know, but back then you were quite the catch, and I was but a silly schoolgirl. My friends and I couldn't stop talking about you. I'll never forget when I saw your Interviews." Effie leaned back, making herself comfortable against her headboard as she remembered the details. "You were arrogant, even then," she said fondly. "I still remember my parents frowning at your answers, but I found you hilarious. I just remembered laughing and laughing. And by the time the Games had started, I was rooting for you. I just… saw something different in you, even then. I was thrilled when you won, though my parents were stunned stupid. Who'd ever heard of a Victor from District 12? They were furious, but I was elated." Effie laughed, blushing slightly. "I actually convinced myself that now that you were famous, we would meet and we'd fall in love. I was a famous model, and you were a Victor. We'd be all the rage in the Capitol. You were very much my husband in my head."

Haymitch blinked rapidly at the absurdity coming out of Effie's mouth. "So what happened?"

"I met Caldwell Ivory when I was fifteen and no else in the world existed," said Effie seriously.

Haymitch wouldn't laugh, even as he felt his mouth turn up.

"Why'd you take my Games with you when you moved out?"

Effie sighed. "I don't know. I was growing up, moving out, and I had just gotten this Escorting job, not to mention my modeling career had taken off. Everything was happening so fast. I had made one last sweep of my parent's house, even going up to the attic to look around, and I came across your tape. You were such an intricate part of my childhood that I just couldn't imagine not having it. So I took it."

"So you… what? Stayed up and watched it on nights you were bored?"

Something about his tone had her back going up. "Wait, what?" She reached over and turned on her lamp to look at him, and frowned at the cold look on his face. "What are you talking about?"

"You just… what, put my Games on with your stupid little friends for entertainment?"

Effie paused, her heart sinking. "Are you drunk Haymitch? Is that why you're saying these things to me?"

"Answer the fucking question, Effie."

"I've only watched your Games twice, Haymitch," she responded coldly. "Once, live, when I was thirteen years old. I didn't watch your games until ten years later, when the Capitol aired it for your ten-year anniversary. I threw up for the rest of the night."

Haymitch paused. "Why should I believe you?"

Effie stared at him for several moments, and then sighed. "You shouldn't." Her eyes were cold, and there was a dark frown on her face.

"Didn't fucking think so." He tossed her the tape of his Games. "I hope you continue to enjoy it with your friends."

He ignored the hurt in her eyes as he left, slamming her door behind him. When he made it back to his room, finally ready to sleep, he did so with a guilty conscious and a heavy heart. It was better this way, he told himself. It was a perfect reminder that she was Capitol, and would never understand.