Original prompt : I will ask for one where Effie is dating Seneca a year before and during the 74th Hunger Games and shes the one that sells him the tragic lovers of District 12 and because he loves her he does his best to keep them alive, then Snow finds out about this and sends a present to Effie as a warning for what she did, he sends a box to her house with pictures of Seneca hanging, Haymitch is not there to help her, but Cinna and Portia calls him after Effie is having panic attacks and he goes to the capitol to find a very frightened Effie

I tricked it a bit because I don't think Haymitch could have gone to the Capitol before MJ.

Stay Safe, Sweetheart

The phone startled her so badly she nearly fell off the couch. The box with the awful pictures was still on the coffee table, where she had put it after forbidding Cinna and Portia to throw it in the trash. She knew they were right when they suggested it, that it was the only thing to do. She didn't want to remember Seneca hanging from a rope in his apartment but the image was already seared unto her brain and there was nothing to show for it now but the quiet knowledge she had killed him. She had convinced him to sell the star-crossed lovers story to the public and that had resulted in his death. The white rose laying on top of the box attested to that. The box itself attested to that.

She got up slowly to answer the phone, hoping it would stop ringing before she got there but it didn't.

"Hello?" She tried and failed to sound as cheerful as usual.

"Sweetheart"

She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall. She didn't want to talk to him. She didn't want to think about him when things were so complicated between them and her boyfriend was dead but she couldn't just hang up either. "You don't have a phone."

"I'm at Peeta's." Haymitch explained. "Sent him to Katniss' for a while. I was at her place when Cinna called, he said you seemed a little… stressed out. How are you holding up?"

How was she holding up? Badly. Very, very badly. But she couldn't actually tell him that, now, could she? Not on the phone at any rate. Phones weren't safe. "How are the children?" she asked instead.

"Good. As in love as ever. Katniss is her usual charming self and Peeta is his usual musing self, all in order." He sounded irritated. "How are you?"

She shrugged, forgetting for a moment that he couldn't actually see her and she needed to give a verbal answer. "Very busy. I have a Victory Tour to plan. That's a lot of work."

There was a pause on the other hand of the phone and she went to sit back on the couch, her eyes on the box. She didn't think she could ever take her eyes off it. She was absolutely panicked when she had called Portia but in retrospect that hadn't been a good idea. Portia had brought Cinna and, of course Cinna must have found a way to warn Haymitch.

"I wish I could be there to help you with that, sweetheart." The words were carefully chosen and she knew he wasn't talking about the Victory Tour.

"You would only make things more complicated. You always do." It was bitter and probably a tad unfair but the star-crossed lovers had been his idea after all and he wasn't the one who had to pay the price.

"I'm sorry." He sighed tiredly. "I really am. I didn't expect Victory Tour to be so… taxing on you."

"You should have thought twice about it." she snapped before she could help herself. "I'm sorry, I'm..."

"Exhausted." he cut in "Cinna mentioned it. He also said you received a present from an anonymous admirer."

She eyed the rose, a wave of hatred and disgust swirled inside her. "Not so anonymous."

"You should throw it." Haymitch's voice softened. "Don't look at it anymore. Throw it."

"I… can't." The sob took her by surprise but she pulled herself together quickly. Not on the phone. Phones were dangerous.

"I'm here. I'm with you. Throw the box, Effie." he demanded, gentle and firm at the same time. "I'm with you."

But he wasn't really. And it wasn't him she wanted anyway. For once, it wasn't him she wanted. She had spent months trying to convince herself to fall in love with Seneca and to forget what she thought she was feeling for Haymitch. Seneca was a good man, a kind man, he was funny and he loved her dearly but still she had kept dreaming about strong arms and stubble that itched when they kissed… What she had with Haymitch was nothing more than comfort and could never be anything else, no matter how she wished things were different. What she had shared with Seneca had been real, promising… And now… Now…

"Sweetheart, please." She took a deep breath and picked up the box wedging the phone between her ear and her shoulder. She could hear his heavy breathing on the other side, she could picture it clearly in her mind : him, sitting on a chair in Peeta's probably immaculate kitchen, a bottle of liquor dangling from his hand. "Is it done?"

She took the box out in the corridor and threw it in the garbage chute. It was gone before she could even blink. "Yes." she said softly. She went back in, leaned against her closed front door and slid to the ground. "I need to hang up now." Because she was going to start crying again, she could feel the tears building behind her eyes.

"If I could come to the Capitol, I would…" Haymitch's words were rushed, as if he was afraid she would drop the phone before he was finished. "To help. With Victory Tour, I mean."

Nobody would ever believe that. Why did they even bother? If they were listening… She doubted they were convincing anyone. "I miss you."

"Effie." It was a warning and a plea all rolled into one.

"I know." She breathed out. "I know. I'm just… scared. Because of Victory Tour and all that goes with it. A lot is expected of me, a lot of… I'm afraid I can't do it."

"You will do it." he growled. "Everything will turn out just fine. Cinna will help you plan everything if it becomes too much. Go to him if you need anything." But Cinna wouldn't hold her like Haymitch would and how horrible was she to crave the embrace of another man when Seneca was dead? "Peeta's back, he says hi. I have to go now, sweetheart."

She wanted to beg him not to leave her. She wanted to beg him to come and save her from the men who were lurking in front of her building in their black car, watching her day and night. She wanted to beg him to protect her from President Snow and his evocative presents. She wanted to beg him to take away that heavy guilt which made it impossible to breathe… "Alright. Send my love to the children."

"I will." He was distant, now, because of Peeta probably. "Stay safe." In his mouth, the salutation took another meaning. It was almost a warning and she could hear what he didn't actually say: stay alive.

"You too." She hung up after that and started sobbing again. It seemed it was all she was doing those days. There was no light at the end of the tunnel she was in, no hope.