Prompt:

Drawing . Addict - how about writing about the birth? And how Haymitch felt the first time he sees his newborn daughter for the very first time?

(note: this is another compromise ... for the time being)

It was the first time he didn't have a nightmare.

Or a blackout.

It was a dream - a strange one. Probably because they had been talking about it - or not talking about it.

"What time is it?" Effie asked with a yawn when she felt Haymitch moving.

"Dunno," Haymitch replied, rubbing his forehead. He sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, resting his feet on the cool floor.

"Was it a nightmare?" Effie rubbed his back gently.

"No … go back to sleep." He leaned over and kissed her gently. "I'm fine."

"Sure?"

Haymitch nodded. "Just gonna get some water."

"Okay." Effie put her head back down on her pillow, listening to the floorboards creak as Haymitch went downstairs to the kitchen.

Finding a clean glass, Haymitch filled it up with cold water and sat down at the table. He felt Whiskey at his feet.

"Get away," he groaned. "She's upstairs."

Whiskey mewed angrily and scampered away as fast as the fat cat could. They only had a mutual tolerance for each other - neither enjoyed sharing Effie's attention.

It'd felt so real …

"I said she was upstairs, you stupid cat."

Whiskey had returned and was rubbing against Haymitch's shin.

"Can't you climb the damn stairs anymore?"

Whiskey sat on his foot in defiance and began to clean his paw. Haymitch just ignored him and rested his head in his hands.

It'd started out scary though - not the Games - it wasn't the Games. It was Effie. Effie giving birth. A screaming in the dark that startled him until the picture cleared in his head.

But there was nothing wrong. The healer said so. And the healer had her push and then …

He didn't know whether it had been a girl or a boy - but he remembered holding the baby, feeling its weight in his arms and staring down into eyes that looked so familiar and …

"Sure it wasn't a nightmare?"

Haymitch jumped and cursed. Effie apologized as she shuffled into the kitchen, wrapped in one of Haymitch's sweaters that fell past her hands and hit just above her knees.

"It wasn't - could you get this cat off me?"

Effie put down the glass she was about to fill for herself and 'tsked' Whiskey away from his feet. She caught the cat in her arms and lifted it up. She went on a filled up her glass.

"What was it then? It shook you up. I can tell."

"I can't remember. Just one of those, I guess."

"Do you want me to sit with you?"

Haymitch shook his head. "I'm sorry I woke you up, sweetheart."

Effie forced a smile and kissed his cheek. Still carrying Whiskey and her water, she went back up the stairs.

Haymitch tapped his fingertips on his own glass.

He didn't know why he was thinking about it …

Why he seemed to … actually want it.

Because it was out of reach?

He finished the water in a few large gulps and put the empty glass in the sink. He tried to be quiet going back up the stairs, but ever since the rebellion, the floorboards always creaked.

Effie had fallen back into a light sleep - Whiskey was curled up in the sweater she had left on the floor. Haymitch climbed back into bed trying to distract himself - almost willing his mind to let him have a nightmare instead of seeing those eyes again.

"Okay now?" Effie asked - her voice groggy. She slipped her arm across his chest, her fingers tapping gently.

"Mhm. Why are you still awake?"

"Worried about you."

"Don't be." Haymitch turned his head and kissed her forehead. "I'm fine."

"Better be." Her fingers stopped. "I love you."

"Love you, too, sweetheart." He kissed her again. "Go back to sleep."