Hi can you do a sequel to not so friendly advice please?

AND

:If you get time could you do a follow up to this chapter of chaff talking to Effie when she's in hospital after being in prison

AND

Oh and also, if you ever need another prompt, maybe (an AU) where Finnick and Chaff are there as Effie is rescued after the kidnapping and torture that went on in the cells (especially if the most recent fic is considered too) :3

Not so friendly advice was chapter 73 for reference but I think this one can stand alone. Also I already did two with Finnick being there when Effie's rescued so I didn't include him.

Whispering In a Dead Man's Ear

Her whole body was hurting.

Effie's eyes fluttered open slowly. White neon lights right above her head left her blind and slightly dizzy so she closed them again, fighting the panic that was starting to settle in her chest. She could feel a mattress underneath her, she could hear the faint beeping of machines not too far and there was a familiar pinching in the crook of her arm each time she took a breath, like a needle maybe. She didn't know where she was. Her body was hurting but it wasn't the kind of hurting she had grown accustomed to, it was like an ache, like she was a rag doll they had finally cast aside to die in peace; like they were at last done playing with her.

"Take it easy, love."

Her eyes opened again, frantically searching for the origin of the voice. She knew it, that voice, she knew it very well. She let her head fall on the right, there was a cushion underneath – a cushion! she never thought she would ever see such a luxury again – and she saw him in all his careless glory.

"Am I dead?" she rasped out, not totally surprised to hear her voice sound so… hoarse.

Because he was. She had watched him die. She had even shed a few tears for him before it all went to hell and Katniss had let that damned arrow fly.

"Nah." Chaff laughed, waving that stupid question away. "A bit cuckoo, maybe, but you always were in my book, so…"

She blinked a few times and tried to get a better look around. The wall behind Chaff was grey. No window, no door, nothing but grey paint. She was neatly tucked in white cotton sheets and she was wearing a thin white blouse. It all screamed hospital to her but that couldn't be right.

"I don't understand." She was so tired. "Is this another trick?" Perhaps she wasn't there at all… Perhaps she was still in her cell and that was a new kind of torture… "You got the wrong victor."

"Yeah." Chaff snorted. "The right one is over there." He nodded to her other side and she turned her head so quickly she could swear something snapped in her neck.

He wasn't lying, though. Haymitch was there. Haymitch. Her eyes filled up with tears and she outstretched her hand towards the man fast asleep in his chair but the simple movement made her whimper in pain and she had to settle for just watching him sleep. She could call out to him, she supposed, force him to open his eyes for her but she couldn't bring herself to.

"I'm dreaming." she breathed out. It was the only logical conclusion. There was no way on earth Haymitch was there. There was no way on earth she had gotten out of that cell.

"Hallucinating, more likely." Chaff told her, not unkindly. He patted her hand with his lump to comfort her. It used to make her cringe when he did that, now she simply turned her hand and held on, desperate for any kind of human touch that wouldn't end in a beating. "I did die after all."

"Where am I?" Her memories were fuzzy. She remembered screams and explosions before she blacked out but that was common occurrences in her new life as a Capitol traitor. Or at least, as someone who had been branded a traitor. She wasn't sure exactly what she did do and what they said she did. It was like Haymitch. One day, they told her he was dead and gone, the next they were threatening to hurt him if she didn't start talking. Her grasp on reality was thin to say the least.

"Thirteen." he said without any hesitation. "You must be. The rebels blew up the prison, they rescued you." His eyes focused on Haymitch and softened. "They had orders to get you out. They said it came from Abernathy, don't you remember?"

She tried to but she couldn't access it. Faces were blurred, urgent questions were all the same to her now… "No…"

"Good thing I'm here, then, isn't it, love?" he joked.

"What are you doing here?" she frowned. "No offense, but I don't think you are the person I would conjure up in my last hour." That particular person was softly snoring in a chair so close she could almost touch him. And wasn't that a new kind of torture altogether?

"Oh, I don't think you're dying." Chaff scoffed. "And maybe I'm here for the 'I told you so'. I warned you they would hurt you to get to him, didn't I?"

"I don't need any 'I told you so' from a dead man." she huffed.

"Fair point." he laughed his bark of a laugh and she couldn't suppress a small tinge of sorrow at the knowledge that she wouldn't hear it again. She and Chaff had never been friends but she liked to think there was some mutual respect somewhere deeply hidden between them. His death must have devastated Haymitch… Not that she had been there to see it. He had been long gone by the time Chaff died.

"I'm sorry you died." she said softly. "I wished you could have been with Haymitch. He needed you."

"I think he needed you more." Chaff shrugged. He looked at Haymitch and sighed. "You were a bloody complication but I think you were good for him all those years. It reminded him he was human not just… a washed-out victor."

"Like you, you mean?" She had often wondered if there had been some jealousy behind Chaff's open hostility. Not because of her in particular but because for all their fights and disagreements, she and Haymitch were a good team – well, as much a team as they could be when she was the one doing all the work – and Chaff's own escort wasn't helpful at all. Seeder tended to do things on her own and not to expect any input from him. Effie had wondered if, perhaps, he was lonely and bored like Haymitch had so obviously been until she came along.

"Maybe." Chaff's lips twitched in a bitter smile. "But nobody got hurt because of me. Nobody got tortured because they were stupid enough to act all lovey-dovey."

"First, I didn't act all lovey-dovey as you say." She glared at Eleven's victor – or ghost, or hallucination, she wasn't sure. "Second, they didn't hurt me because of Haymitch. They thought I had information."

Chaff looked down at her with pity. "You're kidding yourself. They probably understood you had nothing to tell after three days. They kept hurting you because it made Snow feel better to know he was poking at Haymitch. Snow never liked being outsmarted and that's twice Haymitch did it now. They hurt you because they knew he cared for you at least a little. Hard not to care for someone who's so obviously in love with you."

"No." she refused bluntly. "That's not what happened."

"Of course, it is." he snorted. "How many times did they told you he was dead or that they were going to kill him? How many times did they say he was only using you? How many did they call you his whore?"

"To get information out of me…" she argued, looking everywhere except at Haymitch who was still sleeping soundlessly.

"Because they knew you loved him and hurting the ones you love is their favorite weapon." Chaff snapped. "See, if they had not thought you were important to him, they would have forgotten about you quicker. They wouldn't have hurt you so much. They wouldn't have…"

"You're lying." she interrupted him, closing her eyes tight enough to see stars. She didn't need him to make a list of everything Peacekeepers had done to her. Her memories, on that account, were vivid.

"I'm a fickle of your imagination, love." Chaff's laugh boomed out once again. "If anyone's lying, it's you." There was logic in that statement. "You're more honest than that, Trinket. I told you to step away before you got in too deep, you didn't listen and look where that got you…"

It had gotten her to a hospital bed, her body hurting like it had been run over by a truck and a myriad of angry red wounds scattered across her skin. And yet… "It was worth it."

"Was it?" Chaff mused. "You really think it was worth being tortured for months? It's his fault, after all. And he had always been very clear about wanting nothing but sex from you… Was it worth it? Being in love with someone who will never love you back?"

Chaff – the real Chaff – didn't know any of that, she couldn't help but think.

"Why are you here?" she asked for the second time.

The victor shrugged. "Because it's no secret I find you two incredibly stupid and I'm the only one willing to say so. Finnick only encourages you." Finnick… Her heart started racing at the thought of her friend. Was he still alive? What had happened to Annie? It would kill Four's victor if anything had happened to the sweet girl… "Focus, Trinket." Chaff clicked his fingers in front of her face. "It's not about Finnick, it's about you and Haymitch. He let you down."

"He didn't." she hissed even though he kind of did.

"You got hurt because of him." Chaff insisted.

"It wasn't his fault." She truly believed it. She couldn't imagine he would have left her behind if he had known what would happen to her. She couldn't.

"You should be angry with him." he pressed.

"I'm always angry with Haymitch." She rolled her eyes, manners be damned.

"It's different this time, love." Chaff's voice was cold and almost condemning. "He betrayed you."

That hurt, a deep and sharp kind of pain that felt surprisingly like a stab to the chest. And she knew precisely how getting stabbed in the chest felt like now.

"Why are you telling me this?" she whispered, turning her head away from him. She studied Haymitch's sleeping form, taking in the dark bags under his eyes, the yellow tinge of his skin and his hollow cheeks. He looked ten years older than the last time she had seen him. Perhaps he was. Who knew how long she had stayed in that hell pit?

"Because you haven't made up your mind between loving him and hating him." Chaff explained quietly. "And you need to."

"I hated him and loved him at the same time for years." She tried to shrug but it hurt too much so she settled for a sigh. "I fail to see your point."

"He left you behind and you got torn to pieces." Chaff chuckled. "It's a bit more important than him spilling alcohol on your favorite dress, love. Aren't you afraid you're going to hate him so much when he finally wakes up you could hurt him? 'Cause I am. I think, deep down, you could even kill him if you let yourself think about it. That's how much you hate him."

She stared at Chaff in shock, completely baffled by what he was saying.

"You're wrong." she retorted with so much anger it took her aback. "You've always been wrong about me, about us. Don't presume to tell me what I would or wouldn't do because you never understood…"

"Sweetheart?"

Air left her lungs abruptly and she turned her head once more. Haymitch's grey eyes were riveted on her, worried and apprehensive. She could have cried in relief at the mere sight of them.

"Who are you talking to?" he asked with a frown. He placed his hand on hers and she grabbed it. She grabbed it, clutched it with her numb fingers and swore to herself she would never let go again because she didn't think she could bear to be alone for a long, long time.

"Chaff." She was so dizzy with relief and bewilderment, she didn't stop to think how that particular piece of information would be received.

Haymitch frowned. He moved his other hand near her head, so slowly she was sure he didn't want to startle her, and then he started petting what was left of her hair. Not much, she knew, even though she hadn't seen herself in a mirror for months. They had cropped it short in the first few weeks.

"Chaff's dead, Effie." he said quietly.

"I know." She blinked tiredly and couldn't suppress a yawn. "He says I hate you." She tried to glare at her hallucination but Chaff wasn't there anymore, the space next to her bed was empty. Haymitch's hand left hers to cup her cheek, he guided her head in his direction again.

"Is he right?" He looked so prepared to accept the idea it made her heart ache a bit.

"Of course not." She tried to explain further but now that she was actually talking to a real person, now that she was actually talking to Haymitch, she felt like she couldn't put two words together. "I feel funny."

"It's the meds." he promised. "You're high, I think."

If her body hurt even with the meds, she wasn't eager to get rid of them. "Is this real?"

"Well, I've been freezing my ass off on this chair for two days and you wake up dreaming about Chaff." he snorted. "With my luck, I would say it is, sweetheart."

"You're staying?" She could feel herself slipping away.

"Yeah." he grunted. "Go back to sleep." Something brushed her forehead. She wasn't sure but she thought he just kissed her. "And try to remember you don't hate me when you wake up again."