Prompt: One of Effie's parents dies during the games. One that is very uncapital. She can't leave to mourn them.

A Person Of Interest

"You are upsetting everyone's appetite." Effie concluded her tirade with a huff and a theatrical wave of her fork in the air.

Haymitch barely gave her a glare and kept on loudly chewing with his mouth open, shoveling more mashed potatoes between his lips and washing the whole thing off with a large gulp of wine. The two tributes kept exchanging glances. The boy was clearly fighting laugher and the girl, barely twelve and too skinny, was fake-coughing chuckles into her napkin to Effie's clear irritation.

He wasn't sure if the kids' appetites were upset by his antics but, at least, they were getting some fun out of them – which wasn't such a bad thing in his book given that they would most certainly be dead in a few days – and he was getting some fun out of annoying his escort so it was an all win in his book. He wasn't doing it all to amuse the tributes though, she had genuinely riled him up by reproaching him of slurping his soup.

He hated it when she made that kind of stupid remarks about his manners. It was the surest way to make him lose his temper.

The boy's last straw was Haymitch dipping a piece of chicken in his glass of wine and Effie's resulting shocked gasp. The kid burst out laughing, which made the girl stop trying to hide her own giggles to openly laugh too.

"Honestly!" Effie exclaimed, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes, glaring at them all. "No manners at all! This is not funny! Do you expect…"

Whatever she was about to say next was cut off by the elevator's chime.

The kids didn't stop laughing because the sound didn't alarm them.

Haymitch immediately froze, the piece of chicken still in the air, momentarily forgetting his annoyance. Effie had frozen too and they shared a long look, silently interrogating each other.

Nobody was supposed to come up to the penthouse. It might have been the stylists but their stylists never cared enough to stick around.

And stylists didn't stomp their feet all the way to the dining-room.

When the Peacekeepers barged in, Haymitch's stomach was already churning with dread. What had he done? Was it because of that joke he had made at the Head Gamemaker's expense the previous day? He shouldn't have mocked Crane's beard on Caesar's talk show but it had been all in good fun – unlike his escort's subsequent lecture – and Crane had even jokingly answered earlier that day with a gibe of his own… He had thought they were good.

The kids' laughter waned as soon as they glimpsed the white uniforms and they were now staring at the four men warily.

"Gentlemen." Effie offered cheerfully. "What can we do for you on this fine evening?"

One of them, probably their leader, placed his hand on the butt of his gun in a way that was clearly threatening. Passive but threatening.

Haymitch took a sip of his wine, faking a nonchalance he was far from feeling. He didn't think mocking the Head Gamemaker on live TV was worth getting killed over – all the more so when he was the only victor Twelve had to boost and it would be a pain to work around the lack of victors again – but it might warrant a beating.

He so wasn't in any mood to take a beating lying down that day…

"You need to come with us." the Peacekeeper said, his voice slightly distorted by his helmet.

The anonymous helmets were the worst part of the uniforms as far as Haymitch was concerned. They allowed the men and women who hid behind them to do whatever they wanted without fearing consequences.

If Effie was troubled by that statement, it didn't show. Then again, she had a better poker face than anyone he knew.

Haymitch licked his lips and slowly pushed himself to his feet. The chair scraped against the floor in a loud unpleasant noise. Their tributes were tossing him uncertain looks.

"Let's go, then." he sneered.

The Peacekeeper stared at him for a long second before squaring his shoulders. "I meant you, Miss Trinket."

It felt a little as if someone had poured a bucket full of freezing water over his head.

He forced the panic down because it wouldn't be helpful.

He sought her eyes but she didn't glance his way.

"I see." Effie said, still sounding her bubbly self, as if it was common occurrence for Peacekeepers to interrupt her dinner to come and fetch her. She carefully folded her napkin and placed it next to her plate in an obvious ploy to waste time. She made it all look natural and elegant, unworried, but Haymitch knew better. "May I enquire as to what this is about?"

"You're a person of interest in an ongoing investigation." the Peacekeeper replied. "You are to come with us now. Any resistance…"

"Of course, I will not resist!" she cut them off, laughing the fake high-pitched laugh Haymitch hated so much. "I am eager to help the authorities any way I can. Haymitch, dear, do make sure the children go to bed at a reasonable hour. You are in charge while I am… away. Children, I will see you at breakfast."

That was awfully optimistic of her, Haymitch mused, watching her stand up and flash dazzling smiles at the Peacekeepers as if they had just invited her to a party instead of taking her into custody. He curled up his fists against the table, tempted to make a stand but worried that making a fuss might only make things harder for her later on.

A person of interest in an ongoing investigation…

The fuck did that mean?

"I'll wait for you." he said, taking pain to keep his voice casual, uninterested. "We've got to go over those sponsors files…"

They didn't, in fact, need to go over those files.

Her files were color-coded, dutifully updated and awfully detailed. Usually, she went over them by herself – because he couldn't make sense of her system and because he knew that, files or not, they had no hope of getting sponsors – and only managed to rope him into helping by dangling a carrot – the carrot generally being her naked body.

"Of course." she agreed with a smile.

The Peacekeepers didn't hint that she wouldn't be back later but when they all left the room, they also positioned themselves in such a way that it would have been impossible for her to flee.

Haymitch clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to run after them right up until he heard the elevator doors closing.

The tributes were staring at him with wide eyes so he forced himself to relax and sit back down. He grabbed another piece of chicken, dipped it into his wine again and popped it into his mouth. It tasted like ash on his tongue and he almost gagged on it but he forced himself to chew, swallow and repeat.

"Don't look so spooked." he scoffed, taunting. "Shit like this happens all the time. She's gonna be back in an hour or two and she's gonna have my hide if you ain't in bed by then." He gestured at the Avox who was standing at attention against the wall. "Think we're about done here. You can bring out dessert."

The kids relaxed but not by much. The mood had clearly soured and neither of them tried to linger once they were done with their chocolate mousse.

With the tributes safely gone to their room, Haymitch poured himself a drink and paced the length of the living-room for the better part of an hour, feeling more and more anxious when Effie failed to come back.

After three hours, he started to really worry.

What could she have done?

Effie Trinket was a model citizen. She was the poster child for Capitol entitlement. She was…

She knew how to play the game. More than him, more than anyone he had ever met, she knew how to play the game.

She never said anything controversial where there might be bugs. She hardly said anything controversial at all. The only reason he knew her eyes were open to the real atrocities of Panem despite her diva act was because he knew her too well. There was stuff she had let slip on the roof sometimes but the roof was safe. There were also things she murmured against his neck or his side, under the muffling cover of blankets in the dead of night but that too should have been safe. If he could barely pick it up, how could bugs?

Then again, there was the fact she was sleeping with him.

That was the most controversial thing he knew her to have done.

After too many hours of pacing and drinking, Haymitch could barely contain his rising anxiety, certain already that he would never see her again. It had happened before and it would happen again. When Peacekeepers snatched someone, that someone hardly ever made it back home.

He grabbed the phone and typed one of the only number he knew by heart.

It took a long time for the call to be answered.

"Eleven's floor." an irritated voice snapped, probably because it was too late for even team District to be out and make the rounds. It was too late for parties, too late for socializing, too late for even Capitols to be still up. It was closer to morning than it was to evening and Haymitch was really freaking out. "Viola speaking."

"Get me Chaff." he barked.

There was a pause and then a sneer. "Fuck you, Haymitch. Unlike your escort, I am not at your beck and call."

Eleven's escort hung up on him.

He ran his fingers through his hair, tugging at the roots. The slight pain didn't help him focus, the liquor was making his stomach churn and he felt a little dizzy.

When the phone rang, he jumped on it. "Effie?"

"Shit no." Chaff's familiar voice answered, gruff from sleep. "Why are you making my escort scream like a banshee at three a.m., buddy?"

He rubbed his eyes, downed what was left of his glass… The ice had melted, the whiskey was watered down and did nothing for him. "Can you come up? Right now."

Chaff must have heard the desperation in his voice because he didn't make him wait for an answer. "Sure, yeah… What's going on?"

He tended to have a rule about saying important stuff on the phone but… What the hell? The Capitol already knew. "Peacekeepers showed up and grabbed Effie in the middle of dinner. Haven't heard from her since."

Eleven's victor was silent for an endless second. "On my way."

It took only five minutes for Chaff to come up to the penthouse, wearing nothing but a pair of grey cotton pajamas, and while Haymitch knew that it was most likely him when the elevator chimed, he couldn't help a flicker of hope.

Chaff's face was serious when he entered the living-room. "The fuck happened?"

He shook his head. "Hell if I know. Everything was normal, then they showed up saying she was a person of interest in one of their investigations or some bullshit…"

"Person of interest?" Chaff repeated. "Not witness or…"

"No." he cut him off, swallowing hard. He turned his back on his friend, grabbing his hair again, his grey eyes watching the night lights spilling through the bay windows without seeing them. "I'm ten seconds away from storming Crane's house."

Which was why he had called his best friend in the first place.

Hammering on a Gamemaker's door in the middle of the night – never mind one he had publicly mocked no later than the previous day – would guarantee only one thing and that was that he would join Effie in whatever jail they were keeping her in. And the fact that it appeared to him like a viable plan was enough for him to know he wasn't thinking straight and needed someone to keep him from messing up.

He wasn't entirely surprised when Chaff grabbed the TV remote and turned it on, upping the volume enough that it would dwarf whatever they would be saying. Not inconspicuous given the circumstances but better than nothing.

"Have you done something?" Chaff asked.

Haymitch shook his head. "Don't think so. The beard thing…"

"The beard thing was funny." his friend dismissed. "Crane made a comment this morning. He got the last word, it made him look good… Plus, he's friendly with Trinket, right? Can't be that."

Crane was awfully friendly with Effie. More than Haymitch usually liked. But it had its uses…

"Crane'd never let them grab her to get to me." he mumbled. "If they did that… If it's above his pay grade…"

"Maybe it's got nothing to do with you." Chaff pointed out. "Maybe she did something or said something…"

"Not helping." he snapped, heading back to the liquor cart to pour himself another drink.

It wasn't helpful because if it wasn't something he had done, he had no room to negotiate for her release or, if things got direr, her survival. If it was something she had done, he was out of the loop and…

"I told you this wasn't a good idea." Eleven's victor sighed.

Neither of them needed to specify what exactly wasn't a good idea. Haymitch might have always denied it and he might have lied through his teeth to his friends about it but he was also very much aware Chaff wasn't fooled. Few people were fooled. His affair with Effie might have been the worst kept secret in the Games business. But as long as people thought it was only sex, they were okay. As long as they knew he didn't care about her, that it was all a matter of convenience…

Except, he was terrified sick that someone had got it inside their head that he did care, that…

"Really?" He scowled. "You're choosing right now for the I told you so?"

Chaff lifted both hand and stump in the air. "I'm just saying…"

"Don't." Haymitch snarled. "I called you up so you could talk me out of doing stupid stuff, not…" He scowled harder and downed his glass, his fingers shaking so hard he almost missed his mouth. "They can't kill her off anyway. She's Effie fucking Trinket. Everyone loves her. They're gonna have problems explaining her disappearing out of the blue…"

Chaff didn't say anything, merely turned the volume up a little more.

Maybe because there were a thousand ways to make someone disappear and the Capitol was very skilled at them all. A tragic accident, a mysterious suicide…

"I'm gonna call Crane." Haymitch decided, already heading to the phone.

"Wait for morning." Chaff cautioned. "She's been gone what? Six hours? Maybe they're just asking her questions."

"Yeah, maybe they're beating her up too." he retorted.

He tried going through the Center's phone system but bored and sleepy operators after bored and sleepy operators told him Seneca Crane was unavailable at that time.

With a curse, he dashed to Effie's room, followed closely by a weary looking Chaff, barely remembering not to make too much noise because the tributes were sleeping. He only had a vague idea where she put her stuff because he had seen her move around her bedroom a thousand times but had never really paid attention. It took him fifteen minutes to locate her notebook full of phone numbers and her room looked thoroughly thrashed once he was done with it.

Chaff was leaning against the doorframe, definitely unimpressed. "What are you gonna do with that?"

"Call Crane at home." he muttered.

Once back in the living-room, he turned off the TV again because there was no point hiding a conversation that would be recorded through the phone anyway. He dialed Crane's private number and waited while it rang. It seemed to rang forever before a cranky voice finally answered. "It better be an emergency."

"Four of your Peacekeepers arrested my escort and I want to know where she is." he snapped.

"Smooth." Chaff snorted. "Maybe take it down a notch."

He knew his friend had a point but it was hard to keep a cool head when he knew Effie might be in danger right at this second.

"Abernathy?" Crane guessed after a long moment of silence. He sounded slightly more awake but not by much. "How did you get this number?" Another silence and then. "Are you drunk?"

Was he drunk? Possibly. He wasn't sure. He was too worried to even care.

"Did you hear what I said?" he insisted. "Peacekeepers arrested Effie. She's…"

"Why would Peacekeepers arrest your escort? This is absurd." Crane dismissed.

Haymitch's face darkened as he lost all patience. He would have shouted in the phone if Chaff hadn't clearly read his mood and hadn't swiftly grabbed it from him.

"Head Gamemaker Crane, hi. Chaff Mitchell, here." Chaff said in his usual joking tone. "Sorry to bother you so late. Or so early. We seem to have misplaced Trinket and since she left the penthouse with four Peacekeepers, we thought you might know what's going on." Chaff nodded at whatever Crane was saying and Haymitch could barely stop himself from snatching the phone back. "No, she definitely was arrested by four Peacekeepers earlier tonight. I don't know why, Haymitch says they didn't give a reason." A pause. "That would be great, thanks." Chaff winced. "Yeah, I'm keeping an eye on him. No problem."

Then he hung up and Haymitch, seething, barked "So?"

"So, he doesn't know anything but he's gonna look into it right now." Chaff explained. "Meanwhile, you're gonna sit your ass down on this couch and wait 'cause we don't want to make whatever's going on worse. Sounds good?"

It sounded terrible but what choice did he have save from ransacking every Peacekeeper station in the city and, if that failed, going straight to the Presidential Mansion to corner Snow?

Maybe Crane had a point and he was drunk because all of those did sound like good ideas at the minute.

He flopped down on the couch and accepted the glass Chaff handed him.

And then they waited.

Haymitch hated waiting and he hated the heavy silence that always went hand in hand with tense situations.

He hated the thought that Effie might be hurt or scared or…

The sky was beginning to lighten when the elevator chimed. Haymitch immediately bolted to his feet, his eyes burning from the lack of sleep, his body weak from the constant stress and all the liquor he had swallowed. Chaff was slower in getting up but he looked relieved too when they heard the telltale sound of heels clicking against the floor.

She didn't look worse for the wear.

She was still wearing her blue dress although it was a little creased, her pink wig was still on her head even though it tilted a little to the side and her make-up was slightly smudged but no more than it would have been after a night out partying.

Her beautiful blue eyes were dimmed though. Hollow.

"The fuck did they want?" he asked, before she was even fully in the living-room.

He wasn't really aware of crossing the room but next thing he knew, her elbow was cradled in his hand and he was tugging her into a hug that she sidestepped, placing a shaky hand on his chest to keep him back. Her eyes found Chaff but no surprise registered on her face.

"Oh, it was nothing." she said in the cheerful dumb voice of the escort. "Merely a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding that took eight hours to clear?" Chaff taunted without much heat.

Haymitch figured she looked too exhausted for him to enjoy making fun of her. She might have been keeping the pretence through her tone and her voice for the bugs' sake but she wasn't bothering keeping her mask up. She looked dead on her feet, drained… She clearly didn't have enough energy to sound stupid and look the part at the same time.

"Well, it is a bit embarrassing…" she sighed. "You see, it seems my father was at the wrong place at the wrong time and conclusions were drawn…"

Haymitch frowned. "What does that mean?"

Her eyes slowly traveled from Chaff to him and her jaw clenched before she talked, it clenched and she swallowed hard and then jutted her chin up. Her voice was neutral, not quite cheerful anymore but detached.

"It seems Peacekeepers were on the trail of some dealers in rare forbidden volumes." she explained. "And they raided an underground illegal auction tonight. It was not… a peaceful raid. My father apparently was one of the auctioneers and naturally the Peacekeepers had questions."

A chill ran down Haymitch's spine and he shared a look with Chaff. They were both more or less in the business of acquiring books that would otherwise end up burned. He had an extensive collection of forbidden books at home and the fact that her father might enjoy them too, the reminder that some Capitols weren't as blind as to how totalitarian the Capitol was…

Smuggling forbidden books was treason.

Traitors' family were always questioned if not punished for the crime of their relatives. Haymitch squeezed her elbow. It dawned on him again just how easily he could have lost her tonight.

He didn't like how it made him feel.

He liked to pretend he didn't care but she was his friend if nothing else, one of his best friends even, and…

"What about your dad?" Chaff asked. "Was it a misunderstanding, then?"

"Apparently not. They searched my parents house and found more… forbidden volumes." she admitted, not sounding so cheerful or even neutral now. "My mother is beside herself. She was not aware. None of us were aware. We are appalled."

"I bet." Haymitch snorted without any amusement. If treason was verified… If they had proofs… At best, her father would end up missing a tongue. At worst… "Do you know…"

"He is dead." she interrupted before he could finish his question. There was no inflection in her voice, no trace of any sort of emotion whatsoever.

She was shaking though. From head to toes. And her eyes were bright.

He gently tugged on her elbow again but she resisted his attempt at embracing her, at offering comfort.

She was trying to keep it together, he figured, and if she let him hold her, she could collapse.

"I'm sorry, love." Chaff offered, sounding genuinely sympathetic.

"Do not be." she dismissed, sounding curt. A tear slipped out and rolled down her cheek, she turned her head away from them both but kept her voice even. "He got what he deserved. Traitors should not be tolerated. We were never close anyway." She closed her eyes, made a face in her desperate attempt to keep the tears and the pain at bay. "I am sorry to have worried you both, they needed to make sure I had no ties whatsoever to the book smuggling but, as I told them, I must have read only two books in my entire life." The fake laugh echoed weirdly in the penthouse's living-room. "My name is cleared. All is well. Now if you will excuse me, I need a cigarette."

Her voice broke on that last word and she pressed her fist against her mouth, glancing up at the invisible bugs listening to her every word.

Chaff was the first to move. "I'm gonna head back. I'm glad it was just a stupid mistake, love." He squeezed Effie's shoulder as he passed by her and she briefly covered his only remaining hand with hers in a wordless gesture of thanks.

It might have been the more genuine exchange Haymitch had ever seen between them.

"You ain't smocking in here. It smells for hours, you know I hate that." he grumbled. "Go to the roof if you're gonna have a smoke."

She nodded absentmindedly and let him steer her up to the flight of metal stairs that opened to the Center's roof. She walked straight to the low wall that had become their corner at some point in the last few years.

This time when he placed a hand on her shoulder, she didn't move away, she leaned against him and buried her face in his shirt, her shoulders shaking hard… It took him a few minutes to realize she was crying though because she wasn't making any obvious sound. He tightened his hold on her, coiled his hand around her nape and gave it a gentle squeeze…

"I'm sorry, sweetheart…" he muttered, pressing a kiss against her temple.

She cried for what felt like hours. At some point, her legs gave in and he sat them both down so she could crawl on his lap and hide her face against his neck, her hot tears sliding down the collar of his shirt.

He watched the sun rise while he held her, hating the Capitol with renew vigor.

"You called Seneca." she eventually said, her voice hoarse and cracking.

"Was worried." he mumbled. "It was taking too long."

"Thank you." she breathed out against his neck. "The Peacekeeper in charge, he… He was eager when he recognized my name. He thought he had caught a big fish. He did not believe we knew nothing. He had this whole conspiracy theory…" She shook her head. "My brother-in-law managed to get my sister out of it and he was trying to get me and my mother off the hook too but without Seneca…" She licked her lips, rested her forehead against his cheek. "I think they would have executed me. Made me an Avox, at the very least. And all before anyone in charge was actually notified… I kept telling them to call a Gamemaker, that President Snow would have something to say about an escort being treated this way… He was overzealous."

Overzealous Peacekeepers were the worst Peacekeepers.

"Should have called Crane quicker." he winced, sliding her sleeve up and not surprised to see finger-shaped bruises on her skin. He doubted they had done more than shaking her up a little but… It was enough to make him want to kill someone.

"Seneca promised my father's name would be kept out of the scandal." she whispered. "Officially, he had a heart attack. Everyone who counts will know, of course, but… At least we can publicly save face."

"That's what you're worried about?" He scowled, shocked to find her discussing her father's death in such cold terms and not quite sure why he was surprised because…

"They put a bullet in his head." she said flatly. She shivered and he realized it wasn't that she didn't care as much as she was in shock. He wrapped her tighter in his arms, tried to warm her up with his body heat…. She kept talking without even noticing. "They made them all kneel down and then they simply shot them one after the other. No question asked."

He closed his eyes.

"Did they make you watch?" he asked. It was a horrible question but he was well aware of the Capitol's intimidation techniques and…

"No. They told me." she continued. "They told me every detail."

She buried her face in his neck again. "I need to take a shower and to get changed. The children will be up soon."

"Take the morning off, I can handle it." he offered. It wouldn't be that hard. Make sure their tributes eat, send them to training… Usually she would drag him sponsor chasing but… "Sleep a little. Go home to your mom and sis, maybe…"

She shook her head. "He is a traitor, Haymitch. I cannot mourn him."

He scoffed. "He tried to save a bunch of books. That's not…"

"If I mourn a traitor, I am a traitor too." she cut him off. "I will not be forced to my knees and I will not be shot in the head because I am too selfish to care about what will happen to the people I leave behind."

He sighed and kissed her cheek. She had a point. He knew she had. "You can mourn him here. With me."

It was an awkward offer.

"They would have gone after you next." she whispered. "The leap is a quick one to make. If Seneca hadn't come, if he hadn't told that Peacekeeper off and made it all go away… If they had managed to link me to the crimes… They would have gone after you next."

And they would have found a convenient stash of forbidden books in his house to better cement the hypothesis that he was involved in treacherous activities.

Maybe that was what the Peacekeeper had been after in the first place. Pine an escort and a victor as traitors, get a promotion…

"It's over now." he promised.

He hoped.

He had to trust Crane would truly make it go away even though he didn't like the thought of the man having that kind of dirt on Effie.

"My father's dead." she retorted.

"I'm sorry." he said even if he knew just how inadequate those words were.

"Can you hold me a little longer?" she whispered. "Then I will put on a smile and I will pretend everything is fine because I will be dead before they catch me off guard… But first… hold me a little longer."

"As long as you want." he promised, rubbing soothing circles on her back.

He felt her mouth something against his neck, something he pretended not to understand because it terrified him to his very core.

He felt her tears trace burning paths down his skin too.