If you're still taking Haymitch/Effie prompts, maybe you can do this idea justice. What if during the rebellion it's revealed that the citizens of the Capitol have been secretly drugged into submission since the rebellion? Could be drugs in the water. And when Haymitch rescues Effie not only does he have to deal with her PTSD, but also her withdrawal symptoms from those drugs, as well. This leaves Effie in a Peeta-like state. What is real? What isn't real? How does he save her mind?

I already did something that looked like that on chapter 59 so I tried something a bit different. I hope you like it!

Better Days

Haymitch found her in the pen, huddled against the wooden fence, geese honking angrily around her. The animals weren't attacking her, they were just protesting at the intrusion, although he wasn't sure Effie would have noticed if they had been. He crouched next to her, taking in her shaking frame and shivers. He couldn't see her face, it was pressed against her knees.

"What am I going to do with you?" he sighed, dead tired of her episodes. It wasn't her fault, he knew that. She couldn't control it just like Peeta couldn't control his relapses or Katniss her all-consuming grief. He knew all that and that didn't make it easier even with Greasy Sae's help. "Effie."

She didn't acknowledge him but he hadn't expected her to. After the rebellion, when she had shown up in Twelve on the same hovercraft as Peeta, Haymitch had been surprised and not entirely pleased. All the more so when she had quietly explained that she needed a place to stay for a while because she was in withdrawal like thousands of other Capitol citizens and wanted to escape the madness the city had become. Haymitch couldn't say he was surprised by the idea of Snow's government putting drugs in the water pumps to keep the population calm and submissive, he was, however, finding really suspicious that it hadn't been discovered sooner since the new regime had been in place for a few weeks. Plutarch had been so dismissive when he had finally gotten a hold on him on the phone…

"Come on, sweetheart, let's get you back to the house." he suggested, wondering if she had taken anything. Capitol citizens had been drugged for months and cutting them off their addiction wasn't proving to be an easy path. Some days were okay but most were very bad. Effie had been in Twelve for weeks now and Haymitch could see no light at the end of the tunnel. He was lacking new ideas to help her. He had even tried to stop drinking with her but that had been his worst idea yet because he had succeeded and she hadn't which had infuriated her. It wasn't her fault, really, her body was craving the drugs and it was slowly driving her crazy. Sometimes she was shivering so badly and nothing could stop the tremors, other times she would curl in the bathroom and swear she would never eat nor drink anything again and there were the days when her mind was playing tricks on her and she would hallucinate her worst fears. That was when she wasn't having nightmares about her time in prison or having bloody panic attacks in the middle of his living-room because he had slammed the door instead of shutting it slowly like a normal person.

"I'm sorry." she mumbled weakly against her knees.

He fought to stay calm. He had lashed out at her more than once in the past few weeks. He wasn't nurse material and he hated seeing her like that just like he hated seeing Peeta or Katniss almost destroyed to their core. He felt helpless and that wasn't a feeling he was keen on.

"Did you take anything?" He had to ask, that had also happened several times before. One time, she had swallowed every damn pills she could find in his medicine cabinet, another one she had drunk herself to a stupor and would probably have emptied his cellar if he had not stopped her.

She shook her head meekly.

"You better not be lying to me." he snapped.

She lifted her head slowly to glare at him. He would never get used to her hollow cheeks and that vacant look in her eyes. The pixie cut wasn't setting right with him either. They had shaved her head in prison but a woman like Effie wasn't meant to have short hair, she was meant to have a luxurious mane she could flick around her shoulder at will.

"Glare at me all you want, Princess, if you took something I need to know." he said, putting a knee down because the crouching was beginning to make his legs ache.

"I didn't take anything." she whimpered, her glare fading away as if she couldn't be bothered to stay angry at him. "Leave me alone."

That was another thing that was disturbing him. He was well acquainted with the need to be left alone when sick or hurt but he couldn't resolve himself to grant her that courtesy. When she was in that state, he wanted her in his sight. Just in case.

"Let's get you to bed." he suggested again. He grabbed her arm to help her up but she curled on her side against the fence and grasped one of the wooden planks.

"No, I want to stay with the geese." Her blue eyes were glassy and she wasn't all there, he could tell. The lights were on but no one was home.

"You hate the geese, sweetheart." he reminded her. "They're full of germs and they want to eat you, remember?" It was absolutely ridiculous for a grown woman to be afraid of mere birds but he had come to accept long ago that Effie Trinket was ridiculous.

"They protect me." she argued, looking around her wildly as if she was searching for enemies.

"Protect you." he repeated in a flat tone of voice. "Protect you against what?"

Her eyes were frantic now, darting left and right. Her hand shot out to grab his shirt and pull him closer. "Monsters." she whispered.

"Right." How stupid of him to ask. "I can protect you better than birds, don't you think?" She blinked slowly and pulled harder on his sleeve. He considered his options carefully. He could carry her back to the house despite her protests or he could sit there and wait for the fit to end. "You still want the geese, don't you?" he sighed.

She worried her lower lips between her teeth and nodded quickly. "We're both safe, here."

Were they? There were worse places to be, he figured, as he lowered himself unto dirt and geese droppings. She snuggled against him at once, resting her head on his shoulder, neatly tucked under his chin, like she always did. "You're lucky I like you so much, Trinket." He wrapped his arms around her and leaned against the fence, getting as comfortable as he could and praying neither Katniss nor Peeta would choose that moment to pass by. He had a reputation to maintain after all.

Effie hummed quietly to that statement. She was still shaking though so he held her tighter. "I need…" she whined. "I need…" She had no words for what her body was yearning for so damn much. 'I need water' wouldn't cover it. She pressed her face against his neck and sobbed from sheer frustration. There was nothing he could do to make it better, nothing at all.

"It's going to get better." he vowed anyway. It had to. Katniss was beginning to break out of her shell, Peeta was getting better every day and even Haymitch was starting to feel alive again… Effie had to get better too, otherwise it didn't make any sense.

He stroke her hair as she cried and closed his eyes, longing for better days.