Prompt : you are my favourite hayffie author! i have two prompts for you, hopefully that is not presumptuous. 1.) MOAAAR THEO. please! would love something where effie continues to be jealous of hazelle, but in the end hazelle helps her understand that haymitch loves her, only her, and theo too? 2.) would also love to see something entirely from haymithc's POV where plutarch first tells him that effie has been taken a prisoner in the capitol and he gets really upset. PLEASE AND THANK YOU!

I did the second one (please remember to leave only one prompt per review/ask) but I have ideas involving Theo so I will definitely write more with him ;)

Sacrifices

Haymitch had no time to pause and breathe until well after Katniss, Finnick and Beetee had been rolled away to the hospital, after he had been appraised of Twelve's bombings, had pleaded with Coin to send a rescue mission, and had been manhandled to a hospital room himself so his upcoming withdrawal would be monitored.

Plutarch reappeared just as they were hooking a drip in the crook of his arm.

"I don't need all this." he spat at the Gamemaker, glaring at the nurse who looked only too happy to scramble away.

"You're going cold turkey." Plutarch argued. "Trust me, you're going to need the medical attention."

He would rather go through the withdrawal alone in his room, far from prying eyes but he knew without having to ask that it wouldn't happen. Thirteen wasn't a place where personal choices were taken much into consideration.

"Where's Trinket?" he asked instead. "She should be here by now. Get her ass down there. She's still my escort. If someone has to hold my hand, I want her."

The steady yearning for liquor wasn't helping him think clearly. He was in a bad mood, he didn't want strangers looking at him when he would start howling like a beast – and he knew he would yell like a man's possessed, he knew he would see ghosts and be in pain and want to die – and, selfish as it was, he didn't want to go through any of that alone. He wanted Effie by his side. She knew how to deal with his drunken rage, she knew almost everything there was to know about him. She wouldn't be afraid or pity him. She would ground him at least a little.

Plutarch averted his eyes and dragged a chair next to the bed.

Haymitch's stomach plummeted down.

"Plutarch, we had a deal. Where's Effie?" he growled.

The rebels should have retrieved her. They should have retrieved her and brought her to Thirteen kicking and screaming if need be. He had taken pain to make a deal on her behalf, get her sanctuary and immunity. It was one of his conditions for his cooperation.

"Peacekeepers arrested her before our team could get to her." Plutarch said plainly. "I am truly sorry."

It was like all sounds faded away with a whoosh… The beeping of machinery, the echoes of voices in the corridor, Plutarch's sympathetic and unnecessary explanations… It all faded, surpassed by the frantic throbbing of the blood in his ears.

He stood up and Plutarch stopped talking, obviously alarmed.

"I need to get back to the Capitol." he declared. It made perfect sense. He would go back. He would… He would devise a plan once he would be there. He would save Peeta, Johanna, Annie and Effie. "Get me there."

"You're mad." Plutarch scoffed, raising on his feet too. "Listen to me, I don't think she's in any danger. They will question her, they will realize she's the perfect little Capitol drone. She doesn't know anything. They will release her and then we will see about getting her out."

Haymitch stared at him for awhile and then started laughing. He laughed long and hard. It was bitter and, yes, Plutarch was right, he was mad. So, so mad.

The Gamemaker took a step back with a frown, obviously thrown by his change of mood. The man startled when Haymitch took hold of a rolling cart covered with supplies and flung it at the wall.

Guards appeared at the door immediately but Plutarch signaled them to stay put.

"Haymitch." he said tentatively.

"She's not your fucking perfect little Capitol drone." he snapped. "She said things. She has done things." The golden tokens… The golden tokens would be her downfall in the end, he knew it. It was a gesture of defiance. "And even if she doesn't know anything, you think they will release her like that?" He almost wanted to laugh again at the man's stupidity. "She's the Mockingjay's escort. She's my escort, has been my escort for thirteen years. She's my friend if nothing else. Snow knows that. He won't care what she knows or not. He will hurt her. He will hurt her to get to me."

It was a long speech and it left him empty of energy. He sat on the bed heavily and gripped his head in his hands.

"Annie for Finnick, Peeta for Katniss and Effie for me." he muttered. And what about Johanna? They would keep Annie, Peeta and Effie alive as bargain chips or pressure points if nothing else but what about Johanna? She had no value for anyone in Thirteen. "What did I do? What did I do?"

He had thought himself so clever with his star-crossed lovers story… He had been so proud of himself when he had found a way to bring both his tributes back… He had never taken the berries into account. He had never imagined Katniss would defy the Capitol so openly. Yet it didn't matter…

He had cracked the matches, he had set Katniss on fire and now she would burn all Panem and their friends along with it.

"You gave us the Mockingjay." Plutarch replied firmly. "We always knew sacrifices would have to be made."

Easy for him to say. His 'assistant' was safely strutting around on her heels somewhere in Thirteen. Plutarch had taken everything he held dear with him on the hovercraft.

Haymitch lost almost everything.

The only person he had left was Katniss and she hated him.