Chapter Thirty-Seven

Effie was determined to see the twins that day. She was allowed to walk which she did, slowly and carefully while holding on to his hand. He was hesitant about having her being so mobile, afraid that the stitches may come undone but Effie silenced him by having a nurse explained to him her current situation. Satisfied, Haymitch conceded and brought her to the NICU to see the twins.

"Do they recognise you?" she asked as he pushed her down the hallway in the wheelchair.

Haymitch shrugged in reply. "I don't know. Maybe it's you they'd recognise. You talk to them often when they're in your womb."

For some reasons he couldn't fathom, Effie appeared nervous. She wrung her hands together and bounced her legs while they waited for the elevator.

"You okay?" he asked, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It'll be fine, Effie. They're your children."

"I just… I can't believe I'm finally going to be able to see them. I've waited for this day for months."

He shook his head at her antics. It was different for her as it was for him. She waited for their arrival anxiously and looked forward to meeting them, the children she had carried inside of her and bonded with even while they were still in her womb.

Haymitch was at the other end of the spectrum. While it was true he couldn't wait for Effie's pregnancy to end because he didn't think he could sit through her nausea or her cravings or her mood swings any longer, he had not been that excited over prospect of meeting the babies unlike Effie. He wasn't quite ready to be a father despite knowing for months that that was exactly what he would be once the twins were born. Haymitch wasn't sure he was fully prepared to welcome two new lives into his own.

But he had visited the twins again that morning and he had watched them sleep, breathing and alive and he wondered why he had not wanted to meet them. His children were, as cliché as it sounded to him, a miracle. Miracles that were currently hooked on wires and machines meant to support them as their brave little souls fought to live. So eager to see the world that they couldn't wait for the full nine months.

He found himself curious to know how they would be when they grow up, their behaviour and characteristics. Haymitch wondered if they would take after him or Effie, if they would get along well with each other or if they would bicker the way Johanna and Felix often did. He thought of Finn and how the boy had been excited to meet the twins so that he had someone to play with.

These are my children, he found himself thinking for the hundredth time since Effie gave birth to them the day before. I'm a father.

"I'm a father," he said out loud, testing the words on his tongue; odd and foreign though it may be, it felt quite right in a strange way. "I'm your father."

Tristan shifted in his incubator, raising his hand towards Haymitch unconsciously.

"I'll be back, kid," he murmured. "I'm off to see Effie… your mother, I mean."

XxX

"That's them," he pointed towards the end of the ward.

"Hurry, I can't wait," she urged and he obliged, pushing the wheelchair a little faster.

It was not in his nature to fuss over anyone but he had enough common sense to ensure that Effie would be comfortable while she was there. She, on the other hand, was making it difficult for him when she wouldn't keep still, craning her neck to look at the twins and not fully cooperating with him while he was transferring her to the chair.

"Goodness, Haymitch, there's really two of them. It's unbelievable," she breathed out in amazement the moment she saw them next to each other in their own individual incubator. "Look at them. Oh, they're mine, my boys. I created them."

"Yes, you did," he huffed, pushing the wheelchair aside once Effie had settled down. "Because, of course, you reproduce asexually, am I right? How could anyone even question that?"

Haymitch suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, throwing a blanket over her legs before settling down next to her.

"That's my breast milk," she pointed out when the nurses approached the twins with a bottle each.

"Ummm," he swallowed. "That's a… good?"

"I wish I could breast feed them."

Effie sounded upset and he didn't blame her. Because of how early they were, Effie was not yet able to feed them. The twins would be fed through a tube until they could suck and swallow properly.

"I've never seen them awake," Haymitch informed her. "Is it normal for babies to sleep this much?"

"It is, apparently. I was told that they would be a little less responsive because they're only 34 weeks old. Look at our boys, Haymitch, they're so tiny. And they're so much alike! How do we tell them apart? This is going to be a real problem, I can already picture it! But that aside, aren't they the cutest?" Effie cooed and smiled up at him, not realising that she was giving him a headache simply trying to keep up with her train of thoughts.

He squinted and tried to see them the way Effie did but it was a vain effort. Haymitch didn't really understand nor could he see any part of them which would make them cute, as Effie put it. Like, Prim, he thought they were squishy and fragile. There was nothing cute about them, unfortunately, not to him.

Perhaps when they're slightly older, he tried to convince himself.

Haymitch was saved from having to answer when Effie spoke.

"I wonder whose eyes they took after. They've already have my hair."

"And your nose," he chimed,

"And my nose, yes," Effie nodded, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Proud of that, aren't you?" he teased, encircling her in his arm.

Her voice was smug when she answered, "obviously."

It was peaceful in that ward, the only sound was the beeping and whirling of the machine, and if Haymitch paid careful attention, he could even hear the sound of the twins breathing through their tube. Time seemed to melt into the background, immaterial at the moment. Haymitch felt himself drifting, lulled into state of semi-wakefulness.

It didn't last long because he was startled by the sudden sharp cry that pierced the silence like a knife. One of them was crying.

"That's Ethan," he remarked after locating the source of the racket. "That's a hell of a cry. You son's living up to his name."

Effie scooted to the edge of her seat and slipped her hand in to soothe her son. It disturbed her that she couldn't carry him but she tried not to let it bother her.

"What do you mean?" she queried. "The name."

This was the first time that he had encountered his son crying and frankly, he wasn't quite sure what he could do to help, not when the child was in the incubator and he was out here.

"Saw it in that book of yours that the name meant firm and strong."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I think it meant enduring, too. I can't remember now."

"How did you settle for that name? You never told me you've been thinking of that name at all."

"I wasn't. Told you I was gonna winged it, see the situation and see what fits. You remember?" He paused and when she nodded, Haymitch continued. "He gripped my finger," he said, raising the very finger Ethan had held on to, "a strong grip for someone so tiny. That's how. It sort of fit – Ethan."

"Oh, well it suits him," she smiled.

"Yeah, better than the alternative, anyway," he added as an afterthought, eyeing her out of the corner of his eyes.

"What was the alternative?"

Haymitch smirked. He was counting on her to ask and he knew she would ask.

This was going to be good, he thought gleefully.

"I thought of Icarus," Haymitch shrugged nonchalantly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Icarus," he repeated slowly, enunciating every syllable carefully. "You know, the one that flew –"

"Haymitch Abernathy!" she hissed. "I cannot believe you! Icarus isn't very popular is it?"

"I wasn't aware that the name has to be popular," he snorted.

His shoulders had started to shake as the laughter trickled out of him. Haymitch pressed his lips together trying hard not to laugh out loud but the look on Effie's face was priceless. She glowered at him and the laugh escaped his throat, earning a reproachful glare from one of the nurses on duty. That was exactly how he had expected Effie to react.

"It means to follow and honestly, Haymitch, I don't want my son to follow blindly without question," she told him, shuddering slightly. "It's enough that I went through that growing up with President Snow and his Games."

Haymitch nodded; his eyes bright and alive with amusement.

"But have you considered that Icarus was ambitious?" he asked her earnestly. "That's a good trait if you –"

"Haymitch!"

He raised both hands and backed off. "Alright, alright. It was a joke. I just wanted to see your reaction to it. I wasn't going to name him that. Icarus was a boy who didn't listen to his father and I wasn't … Nomen est omen, right?" he quirked an eyebrow. "See, sweetheart, I do pay attention whenever you tell me something."

"Not always," she retorted, shaking her head at him. "Sometimes I think your teasing will be the death of me."

He leaned back into the chair, watching her continue to stroke Ethan's hair soothingly. The infant's cry had wind down to a soft whimper and then, he opened his eyes, blinking up at his mother.

"Oh! Oh! Haymitch, come here. Come and look at him. He's awake."

Pushing himself off the chair, Haymitch walked around towards the other side of the incubator, directly across from Effie and peered inside to see what had made her so excited. He met a sight he had never once considered.

A pair of unfocused, glazy, silvery grey eyes looked back up at him.

"Well, well, will you look at that? Guess, he's not all yours. Didn't reproduce asexually after all."

Haymitch looked at her smugly and she stared at him in return. Effie tried to maintain a straight unimpressed look but she couldn't help the smile breaking out of her face as she laughed quietly.

"Oh, don't tease, Haymitch," she said. "He's got your eyes. He's got such beautiful eyes. The girls would be running after him, don't you think?"

"A bit too early for that, but sure, if he is anything like his father, yes he would have to find a way to politely turn those girls down."

"You're in a mood," she commented, giving him a curious look.

Haymitch had no answer to that. What could he possibly say, anyway? For once in his life, he didn't feel so troubled or weighed down or broken. He felt… He didn't quite know how he felt but it was good enough to send him into that rare state where he could joke and tease his wife. It felt like old times, back when they were working together.

"You're a handsome boy, aren't you?" she cooed. "Hello, Ethan. Hello, my sweet little sunshine. I'm your mother. It's so nice to finally meet you. You recognize my voice, don't you? You're such a darling. He's an angel, Haymitch."

In a few months' time, as he grew into a toddler, Haymitch came to realise that 'angel' was not exactly a word he would use to describe his son.

I really meant to explain both names in this chapter and leave you guys with a little hayffie drama but it was too long! So Tristan will be in the next chapter. Also, I've never met anyone by the name of Icarus before but if that is your name or if you know anyone by that name, I personally think Icarus is a nice name but just not something Hayffie would name their child, i guess. also Haymitch in a rare good (?) mood! Savour it because it isn't going to last.

thank you for all the reviews you've given me. i truly, truly appreciate it and the time you take to read what i wrote. :) keep the reviews coming, they're always a delight to read. see you in the 38!