Prompt: I have a prompt if you're taking them still? Post MJ Effie is living with haymitch but one day she tells him she's going to go back to live in the Capitol because she's not getting any better and she feels like she's imposing/feels bad that he has to look after her/feels bad that he has to be around her all the time when she's so miserable/etc and haymitch basically tells her not to be stupid. Maybe some fluffy 'you're staying cos I love you' kinda stuff in there? P.s you're a wonderful writer!

The Best

The geese were not, contrary to the kids' belief, a passing fancy.

His brother used to talk his ear off about what they could have done with a few geese when he was little. It had been all about business at the time of course – and, he supposed, the plus of having pets to play with even if they had beaks and could peck and bite – whereas he didn't truly need the money nowadays. Still, he needed something to do after the war so why not raising geese?

The geese had arrived the very same day as Effie Trinket, on the very same train, and he liked to think of it as a coincidence but, deep down, in the privacy of his own mind, the part of him that didn't believe in such things as coincidences wondered if it was a sign that he needed to take care of her too. Effie had arrived in style, like she always did, in a colorful dress with very colorful suitcases, and had loudly declared she would stay a few days.

A few days had turned into a few weeks – three, to be precise and in those three weeks, she had stepped out of the house four times and only to cross the street and go have dinner with the kids. She lurked around the house, tried to stay out of his way, particularly when he was drinking, and avoided any attempt at bickering or bantering, any attempt at talking really – whatever was weighting on her mind, she wasn't ready to share. She slept at random hours, woke up screaming more often than not, and sometimes went on cleaning sprees even if it was two o'clock in the morning.

He had watched her scrub his kitchen floor with puzzlement in the middle of the night at least four times since she had arrived. She wouldn't explain herself, he didn't think she had any explanations to give anyway. Her behavior seemed compulsive, an attempt to cope with whatever had happened to her during the war. She had gotten drunk once, he had found her completely wasted, still clutching one of his bottles, it hadn't been pretty and he had kept the liquor under locks and keys ever since. He had also made sure there were no sleeping pills left in the house, she had a history with those, she tended to rely on them too much for his liking. He felt like his house was haunted by a ghost. He didn't recognize her, she wasn't behaving like the woman he knew.

Three weeks.

The geese were striving.

Effie was not.

As a consequence, it didn't come as a huge shock when she appeared in the kitchen doorframe one day, while he was attempting to cook something edible for their dinner, with her pink vanity case in her hand. She hesitated on the threshold for several seconds, her dress too loose for her now definitely bony frame. The old Effie would have barged in and demanded whatever it was she wanted of him, this one lingered and wavered and it was so out of character, Haymitch's heart was aching.

He lifted his eyebrows and nodded at the vanity case. "Going somewhere?"

"Could you help me bring down my suitcases, please?" she asked softly. "They are too heavy for me."

He turned the stove off, figuring the following discussion would be long and would probably left them without any appetite – just as well, he was a terrible cook.

"Why?" he asked. "Something's wrong with your room? You want to move downstairs?"

Irritation flashed in her eyes but it was gone as soon as it appeared, and she looked down. "I called the station, there is a train later tonight."

"And?" he prompted, folding his arms.

He waited for her to get annoyed, to ask him if he wanted her to spell it for him, that was what she would have done before the war.

"And I have imposed long enough." she declared without any heat. "You have been very kind to host me for so long but…"

"If I didn't want you here, I would have kicked you out, sweetheart." he cut her off. "You know me, you know I mean it."

"And that's very kind of you." she replied, still looking at the floor. "But I never meant to stay this long. It was supposed to be only a few days, long enough for me to get back on my feet and…" Her voice trailed off and she sighed. "It didn't go according to plan. I grew too comfortable."

"I don't think you're back on your feet." he snorted. "You're as far from being back on your feet as can be. So here's what we're going to do: you're going to get that case back upstairs and unpack and then we will go beg the kids to feed us. And tomorrow, we will go for a walk because you've been cooked up in here long enough."

"Haymitch…" she tried.

"You're hiding." he snapped. He had been refraining from confronting her on the issue. Peeta had advised him to let her be and he had obeyed because she didn't seem ready to face her demons yet, but enough was enough. "I know you're scared, I know you want to crawl in a corner and never move again, believe me, Princess, I know the feeling, but you need to face the world at some point and getting on a train back to the Capitol only to go bury yourself in your own apartment isn't going to help."

Her eyes finally darted up to meet his and she stared for several seconds before finally placing her vanity case down at her feet. "I don't have an apartment to hide in anymore."

That wasn't what he had been expecting.

"What?" he frowned. "It was still standing a few months ago."

He had gone with her after she had been released from the hospital – and the rebels' unofficial custody – he had seen her apartment building with his own two eyes. Her place had been ransacked, torn apart, there hadn't been much left to salvage inside, that was true, but the walls and the roof had been there and it was more than most Capitols – or most people in Panem – still had at that point.

Effie licked her lips nervously, obviously ill-at-ease. "The rebels released me and spared me a trial but they froze my bank account and my assets. They took everything I had as compensation for my crimes. Life in the Capitol… It was expensive before but it's downright unaffordable now. I couldn't find a job, I had to sell almost everything including my apartment. I am not the only one in that situation, you know. There are shelters all around the city, it's a dreadful situation but it's better than the streets and there are decent places really. The people are nice. Of course, it still feels like charity and when you're as famous as me there is always this hint of glee mixed with the pity but I can't tell if I am imagining it or not most days so…"

"Are you telling me you've been living in a shelter?" Haymitch asked, completely taken aback. That wasn't what he had been expecting. At all.

"It's really not as terrible as it sounds. It is so common nowadays it's almost fashionable." she laughed – or she tried to. Her escort's reflexes were rusty and the polished cheerful mask of bubbly obliviousness wasn't convincing. "My sister lent me some money but we are not truly on speaking terms at the moment. Her husband… Well, you know what happened to her husband."

The last part was added quietly. Her sister's husband had been tried during Coin's purge of people involved in the Games, Haymitch had refused to get involved. Keeping Effie alive had been difficult enough.

"See?" she continued, her tone light and playful but it was a sharp contrast with how shiny her eyes had grown. "I abused your friendship. I meant to stay for a few days, long enough for me to rest and get a grip, but instead I imposed and disturbed your sleep with my nightmares and it was so rude of me, I can scarcely believe it."

"Don't be stupid." he scoffed. "The only thing you disturbed is the dirt around the house and that's not such a bad thing."

He couldn't deny that while he was too lazy to do the housekeeping, it was nice to live in a clean place.

"I know you feel guilty over what happened to me but I also know I am a burden lately." she insisted. "I can't expect you to…"

"Why?" he shrugged. "This house is huge. I'm alone. There's enough room for the two of us. And if you really want to leave, there are plenty of empty houses in the village."

"They belong to the government." she argued.

"They belong to whoever live in them." he retorted. "The District is in ruins, if they start making people pay for living in the last houses still standing, they're going to have another riot on their hands soon enough."

"I'm not from Twelve." she countered. "I can't just move in and…"

"Then move here." He rolled his eyes. "'Cause I'm telling you right now, you're not going back to the Capitol to live in a shelter."

He wouldn't even have to do anything to stop her. He would simply tell the kids, fold his arms and watch the show. Peeta would convince her through logical arguments that she needed to stay and Katniss would sulk and kicked furniture moodily until Effie would relent.

"You don't know what you're offering." Effie shook her head. "I am not… I am not… I am…"

"Insane?" he suggested. "You always were." He waved that argument away and opened the cupboard to pour himself a drink. He would have offered her one but he was still wary of the last time she had touched alcohol. She had drank so much he had been scared she had poisoned herself. "Look, sweetheart, I'm not a shining example of sanity. Katniss and Peeta aren't particularly sane people either. We do what we can. You can't hide somewhere and expect it to go away. At some point, you have to stand up and try living again."

"I try." she said defensively, folding her arms over her chest. "I get up and I get dressed and I smile and… It all feels empty."

"What happened to your head doctor?" he asked. She had been in therapy when he had left the Capitol with Katniss.

Her cheeks flushed red. "It was too expensive."

"I have money." he pointed out.

"No." she said.

It sounded so definite, he couldn't help but sigh. "Effie…"

"No." she repeated firmly. "I won't take your money."

He took a sip of liquor to hide his annoyance. He had plenty of money and he didn't mind sharing. Aside for liquor, he hadn't done much with his victor's monthly allowance before the war.

"What if I lent it to you?" he offered.

"I don't even know how I am going to pay back my sister, I don't want to contract anymore debts." she refused. "Never mind with my closest friend."

"Friend." he scoffed.

"What word would you rather I use?" she mocked.

He didn't know. Was there a word that covered everything from nemesis to lovers without forgetting allies, partners and, yes, he supposed, friends?

Whatever they were, it was so out of the box, there was no defining it. They were something different, something against the odds.

He placed his drink on the kitchen counter and outstretched his hand to her. It took forever for her to tentatively reach for it and allow him to draw her into a tight embrace. They hadn't hugged often since she had arrived, mostly after particularly vivid nightmares he had to shake her awake from, but she was wary of being touched in a way she had never been. Effie had always been the most tactile person he knew, always brushing her fingers against his shoulder to get his attention, linking they arms together, grabbing his hand anytime something unexpected happened…

She felt so fragile now, so easily breakable… She was in pieces inside and he didn't know how to fix it, how to help.

"You're staying." he declared, once she had relaxed against his chest. He propped his chin on her shoulder and pressed a soft kiss to the side of her neck. "Peeta is going to open the bakery again, you can always work for him for a while and then, you'll see."

"Haymitch, I know how much you value your privacy…" she argued. "You will regret this tomorrow, this…"

"I don't mind the company." he interrupted. "I told you, the house is huge. We don't even need to see each other if we don't want to." He pressed another kiss against her neck. "Truth is, I'd rather have you here, sweetheart. I like my whole team in one place."

Tension seemed to leave her body at the reminder that they were still a team.

"I will pay a rent." she gave in. "I can't abuse your generosity."

"I don't need money." he grumbled.

"And I won't accept any other arrangement." she snapped. "I have always been independent and if I want to be me again, I need to be independent."

"Okay. How about you keep your money and you do the housekeeping instead?" he bargained. "Not the cooking, though. We don't want the house to catch fire, right?"

She answered his teasing with a soft whack on his shoulder. "That would be acceptable. As long as I am not expected to go anywhere near those pests you call birds."

"Actually, I call them geese." he taunted.

"Well, I call them monsters." she retorted, burrowing deeper into his embrace. "Why did you need to adopt this particular kind of pets? Why not a dog or a cat? Even a goat would have been preferable."

"'Cause I didn't know you were coming." he shrugged. "And I wanted something."

She hesitated for a second, and lifted her head to look at him. She was frowning. "What do you mean?"

It was his turn to look away. He could have lied, he supposed, but they were a little past that now. "I wanted something worth putting the bottle down now and then."

The snort that passed her lips was undignified and almost bitter. She cupped his cheek and he leaned against her palm, dropping a light kiss on the inside of her wrist.

"We are a right pair, aren't we?" she joked.

"The best." he snorted.

Her lips stretched into a small smile.

"The best." she repeated in a whisper.