Prompt : May I prompt? What about Effie having a real breakdown in Thirteen when she realizes that she may have lost her family and that her pretty stuff and her belongings are gone? And that she doesn't have much left… And iola that's when Haymitch appears? I'd be truly grateful.

Team & Family

They had come to dread the words incoming propo.

Activity seemed to cease in Command as everyone turned their eyes from the screen where Beetee's face had appeared, live from his workshop in Special Defense, to the bigger screen mounted on the wall. Haymitch slouched further down in his seat, expecting the worst. Next to him, interrupted mid-sentence about possible new angles for Katniss' propaganda shootings, Effie tensed.

He was afraid it would be another interview with Peeta or Johanna but it was a public execution. There were more and more of those as if Snow was desperate to spread the message that all caught rebels would be killed.

"Who are they?" someone asked as the camera panned on the terrified rebels' faces before a Peacekeeper pulled a bag over their heads.

"Capitols." someone else answered.

"Your agents, Plutarch?" Coin asked.

"That's Flania." the Gamemaker confirmed. "I don't know the others."

"Being suspected of sympathizing with the rebellion will warrant a death sentence now." Boggs declared. "Snow can't take this kind of risks. He needs to keep control over the Capitols."

Haymitch remained quiet through it all, watching in silence, not offering an opinion of his own. Effie flinched with each new gunshot even though she was staring at the papers in front of her rather than at the screen.

"Do you know them?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head but didn't verbally answer the question. Once Panem's sigil appeared on the screen to signal the end of the transmission, they all switched back to what they were doing before without any further ado. It should have been sickening that they were able to dismiss brutal deaths so easily but they had sadly gotten used to it by now. Death was everywhere and death was never kind.

Effie continued her briefing, her voice not as steady as it used to be and her fingers shaking lightly as she held her notes. Eventually, the topic was closed and Coin declared they were done for the day and would talk about how to proceed in Seven in the morning.

It was late and the dining hall was mostly deserted. He and Effie grabbed a tray, scanned their wrists and waited for the person behind the counter to give them their allotted amount of food for the night. The rebels' tactical team, Boggs and Plutarch all sat together at a table as was more or less the norm when they finished so late – they usually continued talking about the war and possible options – but Effie walked past them and to an empty table at the other end of the room. Haymitch hesitated a second before following her.

Her jaw was clenched and she didn't look up when he sat down next to her.

He waited for a few minutes but she didn't talk, she simply stirred her mushrooms with her fork, making a face at the splashy sounds it made.

Haymitch rolled his eyes, stabbed his own mushrooms and shoveled them in his mouth, too hungry to care about how bland they tasted. "Spit it out. What's wrong now?"

Something was always wrong since they had arrived in Thirteen. She was never happy. You'd think he had done her a disservice instead of saving her life – and, yeah, sure, she may have had a point when she argued he could have asked instead of kidnapping her but the fact was that he couldn't have taken the risk of her refusing.

He knew it was serious when she didn't even call him out on his talking with his mouth full of food though.

"Effie." he frowned, reaching for her wrist. She jerked away before he even made contact. He lifted his hands in a defensive gesture. "Okay." he grumbled with annoyance at her rejection. "Suit yourself." He kept on eating and she kept on dragging one mushroom around, never actually bringing it to her lips. Eventually, she dropped the fork and stood up with the clear intention of leaving. He grabbed her wrist and tugged her back down without any delicacy. "You need to eat."

"This is disgusting and I am not hungry." she snapped, struggling to get free from his grip. He didn't let her.

"She talks." he taunted, before giving a stronger tug to make her stay still. "You need to eat. There are rules. If you waste food, they won't feed you for two days."

She studied him for a moment and then grabbed her fork again. He slowly let go of her wrist. She stabbed the mushrooms with a violence he had rarely seen from her. Her table manners were usually perfect.

"I hate this place." she muttered before bringing the fork to her mouth. She kept her eyes closed, her nose wrinkled and she made a face all the time she chewed on the –admittedly disgusting – food. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the soldiers tasked with watching the exits were not paying them any attention before he helped her eat the rest. Once she saw he was willing to eat her share, she didn't make much of an effort.

"Eat the bread and the cheese." he ordered, nodding at the dessert in a corner of her tray.

"I am not hungry." she repeated stubbornly, pushing it toward him.

He pushed it right back. "Yeah, and then you will wake up in the middle of the night because your stomach is empty and you will wake me up to complain so eat the damn cheese and quit being such a spoiled brat, for fuck's sake, Effie!"

His bout of temper warranted him a glare. "I won't wake you up in the middle of the night because you won't be sleeping with me tonight. And do you know what, Haymitch? Fuck you."

The insult was out of place in her mouth, shocking almost.

"Okay, what's up with you?" he asked, railing his irritation in.

She finished the bread and the cheese in three big mouthfuls that she had trouble swallowing.

"Nothing." she said once her tray was empty. "I am simply a spoiled Capitol brat who misses her fancy dresses and sparkly jewels. One would wonder why you even bothered bringing me with you if that is how you see me."

"Don't be a bitch." he scowled. "I've asked. If you don't want to say why you're upset, it's not my problem."

"Why am I upset?" she sneered. It was ugly when she sneered. "Why, Haymitch, where do you want me to start? By the fact that I hate looking like this? By the fact that I am forced to eat when I feel like being sick to the risk of not being allowed food for days? By the fact that everyone in this District loathes me? Or perhaps by the fact that innocent Capitol citizens are being executed for no good reasons?"

"Lots of innocent people have been executed for no good reasons, Princess." he snarled. "It figures you would only cry over the Capitol ones."

She turned her head away as if he had slapped her and she kept her eyes averted when she spoke next. "Does it ever occur to you that everyone is not like you? Did it even occur to you that I am not like you? That I have a mother and a father and a sister and nephews out there? Do you even remember that I have a family?"

She stormed off before he could even try to grab her arm.

"Fuck." he spat at his tray, feeling like an idiot – a feeling he absolutely hated. He ate his own cheese and bread on the way to the exit. The guard forced him to stop until he had swallowed everything before letting him through and it was enough time for her to have disappeared.

He made a beeline for her compartment, knowing she didn't have many options at that time of night in this District – nightly strolls were forbidden except for a handful number of people who had clearance, he did but she didn't.

He didn't bother knocking, he slid the door open and stepped in a little warily. She glanced over her shoulder but quickly turned her eyes back to the wig she was distractedly styling.

"I forgot." he admitted openly because there was no way around that. "Look, sweetheart, we can ask Plutarch to…"

"I already did." she cut him off. "He can't spare the resources to go looking for everyone's family. His agents have more important things to do."

"I'll ask." he insisted. "He won't say no to me."

"He will say no to you like he said no to me." she scoffed "Nobody cares about my family, Haymitch. Nobody cares about me. I am replaceable, they were very clear on that while you were in withdrawals. The only reason I am here at all is you."

"And Katniss." he amended. "Katniss needs you."

"You are better with Katniss than I am. You always were." she argued. "Even now… Even if she still is angry with you she listens to you more than she listens to me. Peeta would have been a different story but…"

"We'll get him back and he will need you then." he interrupted. "Look, the girl's not the most affectionate but I know she's glad you're here. She needs you, like it or not. I need you. You keep the team together, that's your role."

She placed the wig and the hairbrush down on the table. "A team isn't a one way street. I give and give but I get nothing back. I understand it coming from the children, that's absolutely normal. We need to be the strong ones, they need to be able to come to us, we need to be rocks for them. But you, Haymitch… If I can't lean on you, what do I have left?"

"You can lean on me." he countered immediately.

"Can I?" she scoffed. "You didn't even realize why I was upset. You immediately jumped at my throat about my behavior as if…"

"Because you complain about your clothes and your shit all the time." he sighed. "That has nothing to do…"

"You complain about missing liquor all the time too!" she retorted. "How is that different?

He opened his mouth and closed it again. It wasn't, he knew that. He was just too focused on his own problems and a little too quick to let her handle all the work. As usual.

"We'll find out about your family." he promised. "I'll get Plutarch to find answers, alright?"

She pursed her lips and looked down, subdued. "Alright."

He crept closer a little warily, offering his hand. "Want a hug?"

She slipped her hand in his and let him pull her up and into his arms. She tucked her head under his chin and sneaked her hands under the back of his shirt. They were cold, they were always cold in that place, and she never lost an opportunity to warm them up. He didn't object for once.

"I am so tired…" she whispered. "I wish the whole thing would be over already."

"We'll get through this." he murmured, pressing a kiss on the top of her head, over the scarf.

"Together?" She almost sounded pleading.

"Yeah…" he offered. "Yeah, together."