Prompt : I was watching Catching Fire yesterday, then I realized something : during the Victory Tour in district 11, when Haymitch take Katniss and Peeta to the other floor, Effie starts scream with a peacekeeper. Can you make a prompt about what happens next? (sorry about the english)

Safety

Effie's rant fell on deaf ears. The Peacekeeper didn't even blink or made the slightest move proving that he was listening. The shaking in her hands increased as more gunshots echoed behind the heavy wooden doors.

"This is not supposed to happen. Do something!" she ordered the Peacekeeper who still remained silent. It wasn't supposed to happen. Victory Tour was supposed to be enjoyable instead they had been marched around by Peacekeepers like common criminals since morning. Districts people weren't supposed to be as passive-aggressive or silently defiant and they had been greeted by nothing but those two kind of attitudes by Eleven's mayor and his fellows countrymen. Of course she had known as soon as Katniss and Peeta had threatened to both eat those damned berries that the situation would get complicated, she wasn't completely stupid and Haymitch's instructions about making sure the Capitol believed in the love story had been too insistent. Of course she had known. However she hadn't been prepared.

If it hadn't been for Cinna grabbing her shoulders and pulling her back, she would have pushed him just to entice a reaction. Someone had just died on the other side of those doors. Someone had just been killed almost in front of her eyes.

"You need to calm down." Cinna whispered. "The children can't see you like this. Haymitch will need to stay focused."

The children. Something that felt very much like freezing panic stabbed through her heart… With the state the Districts were in and several higher officials openly doubting the love story between Katniss and Peeta, the children would be in danger. The Capitol had a very peculiar but efficient way to deal with problems: they made the problems disappear. Almost everybody knew it even though no one dared talk about it but it was uncanny the number of people who died in accidents or committed suicide right after something that could be considered anti-Capitol had been said or done. Seneca Crane was the latest example of that.

She needed to think about the children. She couldn't let them see she was upset. She couldn't let anyone see her upset. She had no business being perturbed by the death of someone from Eleven. Worse, if people were to think she cared about something like that, she would be in danger. Her brain kicked in fast and she started spouting nonsense to Cinna about the whole Tour being disturbed, about the Peacekeepers' incompetence in keeping order… Cinna played along for the most part and when Haymitch finally reappeared with the children in tow, she talked even louder and invented stupid tales about being angry at not being allowed to check out the local architecture. The children sympathized and tried to comfort her imaginary deception; Haymitch wasn't fooled.

She kept up the act the rest of the evening, playing the dumb shallow escort to the perfection. Even when they all got back to the train – minus Haymitch who had disappeared earlier with a vague mumble about finding Chaff – and the children excused themselves, she didn't drop the guard in front of Cinna and Portia. They were her friends and she trusted them but, suddenly, she couldn't help but be afraid there were spies everywhere. A word in the wrong ear would be enough to get her arrested and interrogated. She was a part of the two-heads team that had created the District Twelve Star-Crossed Lovers story, she was just as guilty as Haymitch.

Finally, the stylists both headed to bed and she was left alone in the living-room cart. She went to the liquor cabinet and grabbed the bottle of whiskey. She wasn't one for heavy alcohol and that wouldn't have been her poison of choice anyway but whiskey, for some unfathomable reason, felt comforting. Her hands were shaking so bad the bottle clang repeatedly against the rim of the glass.

"You're going to spill it, sweetheart."

She startled so violently she did spill most of it around the glass. She pressed a hand against her chest, hoping to calm her racing heart.

"Really, Haymitch!" she hissed. "Don't you know it's rude to creep up on people this way? Couldn't you just… knock?"

Haymitch only lifted a mocking eyebrow. "On the living-room door?"

"Why, yes!" she huffed, folding her arms over her chest. "Learn some manners."

He rolled his eyes but didn't reply. She watched him walk closer and grab the bottle of whiskey, a second later he was handing her a glass completed with ice. "See? I have some manners left. I could have kept that for myself." The fact that he clearly had a few drinks in him already and that he was pouring himself another as they were speaking was obviously irrelevant.

"How is Chaff?" she asked because it was polite more than by any particular interest of hers.

"Old and drunk." he snorted. "So I suppose he's fine."

"Did he…" She stopped in her tracks and sipped from her glass slowly. "Never mind." She shouldn't ask if Chaff had known the old man who had been executed earlier. She shouldn't. She walked to the window instead, wishing her stupid hands would stop shaking in fright of something that was over and done with.

He cleared his throat. "How long before we get to Nine?"

She glanced at him over her shoulder. That was a stupid question, he already knew the answer, they had gotten over the planning the day before and he had been wide awake and mostly sober.

"We will reach the station tomorrow night." she answered anyway. "The speeches are scheduled the next day at noon."

He nodded thoughtfully and she went back to her observation of the orchards she could spy even in the darkness. The train would leave soon now, maintenance would be about done.

"You prepared more cards for the kids?" he said after a few minutes.

"Yes, of course." Effie turned her back on the window and leaned against it, proper behavior be damned. Who would Haymitch tell if she wasn't acting like a lady for a second? Her feet hurt, she was exhausted and she felt like she had aged ten years in a single day. "Do you want to review them?" She didn't try to hide her annoyance at the suggestion.

"No." he waved her offer away. "What you wrote today was good."

"Yes, it was." She gritted her teeth in frustration. "They should just have said what I told them to."

Haymitch was studying her in a way that made her feel uneasy. She was used to him looking at her with irritation, anger or contempt but she wasn't used to being watched like a mystery that needed solving. After a moment, he downed his glass and shrugged. "They will stick to the cards from now on. Just make sure whatever you write is… convincing enough. I trust you."

Those three little words so carelessly offered made her feel slightly dizzy. His detachment was fake though, she could see it in the way he was holding his empty glass just a bit too tight, it felt as if he was trying to say something without actually saying it. His grey eyes were riveted on her and she nodded without really knowing with what she was agreeing. It seemed to have been a permission for him to walk closer and take the drink out of her hand… She let him. And when he turned back to her after having placed the almost untouched glass on a nearby table, she didn't move.

"Cinna said you were upset because the Tour was disrupted." His voice was tentative like he wasn't sure she would get his message. It was clear to her, though. They couldn't speak freely. They hadn't been speaking freely since the train had left Twelve. He had been unusually guarded even with his jab at her expense – nothing that could have been outwardly interpreted as being an attack against the Capitol. It had occurred to her that the train might be bugged even before they had left the Capitol.

"I don't want… I don't want any more… disruptions of that kind." Effie stuttered. "The Victory Tour is my responsibility. I should…"

"Disruptions of that kind aren't your responsibility." he interrupted her. "There will be more, sweetheart, don't kid yourself into thinking everything will go smoothly. Smartest thing to do when that happens is precisely what you did today. You handled it just fine."

She dropped her eyes to the wooden floor. "I was terrified." Her whisper was barely loud enough for him to hear.

He placed a hand under her chin and forced her to look up. They stared at each other for a few seconds and then he sighed and pulled her into a hug. It had happened a few times along the years and Effie always expected to hate it because he often reeked of liquor and couldn't be bothered to shower every day but she never did. In fact she loved it. Haymitch held her so tight she almost couldn't breathe but she clung to him just as hard. She rested her chin on his shoulder, closed her eyes and finally released the shaky sob she had been holding in. It was all she allowed herself : one sob, but it was enough for Haymitch to start running a soothing hand up and down her back. She loved Haymitch's hugs because whatever was happening outside, in his arms, she felt safe.

And safety, nowadays, should never be taken for granted.