Prompt:

shikabane-mai - Could you do a piece on when Haymitch sees Effie's scars that was mentioned last chapter?

(note: chapter referred to is 'The Deal')


It was almost noon.

Haymitch had done a good job at convincing Effie to stay in bed - to stay in his arms for just a little longer.

"At least let me open the curtains …" Effie said - though it was difficult to get a word out with Haymitch kissing her. "A little light - it looks like a nice day!"

"Stay …"

"Just the curtains …"

Haymitch gave up - just a little. "Better come back."

Effie laughed and pushed him away playfully. She picked her nightgown up off the floor and slipped it over her head before tiptoeing across the cold floor to the window. In the small bit of light the curtains were already letting in, Haymitch could see the light trails of the scars on her back.

He knew they were there.

He knew there were all over her body - her back the worst, though. He could feel them when he touched her - sensitive skin, thin skin just staying together by a thread.

Effie pulled the curtains open, letting in the sunshine. She was smiling.

But Haymitch could the see the scars better now.

"I told you," she said, turning around. "Beautiful day … we ought to sit on the porch - it's so … what's wrong?"

"Come back."

"I was."

He waved her back over.

"What is it?" she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed looking concerned.

Haymitch sat up and gently pushed her nightgown to her shoulders.

"No … Haymitch … don't …"

She could feel his fingertips gliding over her skin - tracing the scars. And then she felt his lips instead, pressing softly to her back. She leaned forward, resting on her knees as he kissed her scars. Soon, he was pulling her back into bed - every move careful, gentle.

As if Effie would break at his slightest touch.


Effie knew she ought to make something to eat. She woke up hungry - it was late afternoon. She had no resistance from Haymitch - he wasn't there, he wasn't in bed with her. Along with her nightgown, she put on one of his old sweaters that had been cleaned and then a pair of socks.

"Rugs … ought to get rugs …" she muttered to herself.

She started down the stairs but paused. There was a clanking in the kitchen - no, a shattering. She hurried down the rest of the steps and almost slid on the floor.

"What's going on she asked?"

Haymitch was standing, bottle in hand and an empty glass on the floor across from it. He had clearly chucked it hard at the wall.

"I left you," he said. "I left you!"

"What? Haymitch - what are you -"

"I should've killed him. I should've killed him in the penthouse and taken you to Thirteen. You would've never … never had to suffer -"

"Haymitch, stop!" Effie rushed into the kitchen but Haymitch kept his distance from her. "Haymitch …"

"I hurt you."

"No you did."

"I did! I'm the one who really hurt you! Because I left you! Because I was stupid -"

"Stop that! I stayed because I needed to stay. You know that. You know there was nothing else that could have been done in that moment! Just … stop it!"

"You're broken -"

"No, I'm not!"

"You are! You have nightmares - just as bad as mine! You scream in the night! And I … I could have prevented it!"

"Don't talk about -"

"And your file … my god when I read your file …" Haymitch sank to the ground, covering his eyes. "What they did to you …"

"Stop …" Effie shut her eyes. "Stop right now."

"I don't know how you survived … you should be dead … I killed you … I killed you, Effie. I … ruined your life."

"Don't say that! Stop! I'm not dead!"

"You could be! You were so close … naked and covered in blood and bruised and I still can see it … I see those scars and I think of when we found you and you -"

"I can't listen to this," Effie said. "I can't … I can't." Wiping her eyes, she ran from the kitchen - she could hear Haymitch practically wailing by now - but her own tears were coming fast.

She climbed into their bed, pulling the sheets around her, pushing a pillow over her head to block out the sound of his crying to to muffle her own.


It had to be some time in the early morning. Effie had cried herself to sleep - or rather exhaustion had taken over. But she was awake now. She wasn't hungry. She didn't want a drink. She didn't move when the mattress creaked and she felt Haymitch's familiar weight joining her.

He tried to put his arms around her but she pushed him away.

He pressed his face into his pillow.

"I didn't … I didn't mean …"

Effie looked over at him in the darkness. He had been sick. She could smell it on him.

"You didn't do any of this to me, Haymitch," she whispered. "The only harm you did was to bring it up. You need to shower."

"Eff … please … I'm sorry … I …"

"I know."

He didn't move right away - but slowly he did go to the bathroom. Effie listened to the shower, listened to it stopping, listened to his footsteps coming back. And slowly, once Haymitch was back in bed, Effie drifted into his arms - listening to his apologies and returning his kisses.

"Do you really think I'm broken?" she asked him.

"We all are, sweetheart," he said. "We all are. But I didn't mean … what I didn't say was how beautiful you are and how … how strong you are. And how -" Effie covered his mouth with her hand - then her lips.

"I don't need you to say things like that," she said. "You love me and that's all I want."

Haymitch his his hand through her hair. It had started taking on a bit of a curl now that it had been finally set free of all the pins and twisting and pulling.

"I do. I love you," he said.

Effie smiled. "And I love you."