Prompt: Hi! Are you still taking prompts for Have A Drink Sweetheart? If so could you pretty please write a chapter where effie like sacrifices herself for aymitch and gets shot or something (but she's just injured) btw I love your oneshots! You've got so much talent )
Shooting
"I thought we were done with this." Haymitch sighed in her ear, as they waved at the crowd parked in front of the red carpet.
"One more day and we can go home." she reminded him.
Every year it was the same thing. The anniversary of the rebellion rolled around and they were called back to the Capitol – well, Haymitch and the children were called back to the Capitol but where her victors went Effie followed and everyone had grown used to seeing the last escort at the Quell's victor's arm anyway. Key players of the rebellion, high government officials… They all had to play the game of walking red carpets, attend commemorative events and waltz at the closing ball in front of cameras. The ball was Effie's favorite thing.
"Can't wait." he grumbled as another black limo lined up and screams and shouts welcomed the newcomers. Peeta and Johanna stepped out, Katniss and Annie having both declined the invitation for obvious reasons.
"Would it kill her to smile?" Effie lamented, smoothing invisible creases from her golden dress. It hugged her figure to her waist and then flowed down to her ankles. She loved it. And if the look he had given her back at the hotel was to be trusted, Haymitch loved it too. She was ready to bet it would end in a heap on the floor before the night was through. She was a bit cold though and so she huddled closer to Haymitch, still waving and smiling at the crowd.
There were quite a lot of them outside now. Various secretaries of states, Beetee, Plutarch, Peeta and Johanna, a few more influential politicians and former rebels… It wouldn't be long before they were all ushered inside so Paylor could officially open the ball. All they needed now was for the President to arrive.
Her bulletproof car lined up and she stepped out, wearing a classic dress that was too strict for Effie's tastes. The crowd cheered and Paylor greeted people with ease and natural, shadowed by her mandatory – although useless – bodyguards. She was well-loved.
In the blink of an eye though, the bodyguards weren't so useless.
Effie turned to Haymitch, her mouth open in a question she never had time to finish. The first gunshot rang in the air and panic seized the crowd.
In a fraction of second, it was chaos.
Paylor was forced back to her car that drove away without an hesitation. Security and the new Peacekeepers tried to protect people but it was hard to do when everyone was running in every direction. Haymitch's first instinct was to look for the children. So was Effie's.
It seemed obvious there was more than one shooter.
Around them, people fell.
They couldn't find Peeta and Johanna.
"Over there!" Haymitch shouted to her over the gunshots and the screams, pointing at pillars behind which the two victors were crouched. His grip on her arm was painful as he dragged her in that direction.
If they had run the other way…
Suddenly there was a man in front of them with a back hood on his head and a monster of a gun in his hands. Haymitch moved to push her behind him but she was quicker.
She didn't think.
She didn't pause.
She didn't hesitate.
She jumped in front of him and she barely even heard the gun in the surrounding chaos. She was projected back, directly into Haymitch's arms.
The shooter didn't stop to check if she was dead. He went on his merry way, shooting people, until one of the Peacekeepers killed him. Not that Effie really noticed.
And then the pain hit.
And she screamed.
Haymitch picked her up and sprinted inside the hotel the ball was supposed to take place in. Security opened the doors for him and closed them right after. A few people had found refuge there.
He laid her down on the floor and fumbled with her dress, tearing it apart, and it wasn't how she had thought that would happen. She stared at him, holding her breath because it hurt every time she breathed. He was talking but she couldn't hear. The lights formed an odd halo behind his head. His hands pressed down on the now uncovered wound, unforgiving, and she cried out. He cupped her cheek. His lips were moving. She thought he was saying sorry.
The bullet was in her shoulder.
She felt that much.
How many vital things were there in the shoulder? How fast did one bleed out?
How was she so calm?
She felt numb.
She kept staring at Haymitch, kept watching his lips move without understanding a single thing. At some point a woman appeared behind him, they exchanged a couple of words and the woman's hands were on her, probing and touching and causing pain. She vaguely recognized her as one of the main rebel medics, the one they had coined a hero for going alone on the battlefield to help soldiers when it was too risky to send a whole team.
The woman didn't seem overly concerned because she said something to Haymitch, clasped his shoulder and then moved on to someone else.
She was cold.
She thought she must have mumbled it because Haymitch shed his jacket and covered her with it before going back to pressing on the wound, his other hand petting her hair. He wasn't talking anymore. He had that look she hated on his face, the haunted one.
Eventually, things seemed to settle down.
They evacuated people and Peeta and Johanna found their way back to them. Peeta worked himself in a state when he saw her and Jo had to drag him away before he had an episode or a panic attack in public. It was a while before paramedics came for Effie. She wasn't an emergency compared to others. Still, she was grateful when they finally sedated her.
The rest was a blur.
She woke up in a hospital room, drowsy and dizzy. She recognized the smell and it almost made her gag, her mind flashing back to the direct aftermath of her rescue and the weeks she had spent trapped in the hospital.
"It's alright, sweetheart."
She relaxed at the sound of his voice, smiling a little when she felt his fingers close on her hand. If he was there it wasn't so bad. It took a few moments to remember what had happened, why she was there in the first place. When she was.
"The children?" she immediately slurred even though Johanna hadn't been a child for some time and Peeta was a grown man now.
"They're both fine. Then again they didn't jump in front of a gun." he grumbled. "Shipped them back to Four and Twelve by hovercrafts."
She ignored the gibe about her and guns for the moment. "What…"
"Bunch of Snow's loyalists." Haymitch said before she could finish. "Looks like they still exist. They were all caught or killed."
"Did anyone…" she asked.
"Yeah." he nodded, grim. "But no one we know. Beetee was hurt in the stampede but he's going to be fine."
"Good." she breathed out.
"Good?" he scoffed, his voice rising in anger. "What the fuck were you thinking? You fucking jumped in front of a fucking gun ! You could have died. You could have…" His voice broke and he rubbed his face, looking ten years older than he had that night. "You don't do this to me. You don't, Effie."
"I can't lose you." she whispered.
"And I can?" he snarled. "You think I can? You think I can have you dying in my arms and…" He stopped talking, his jaw clenching. "You don't die on me. You don't fucking die on me. I die first, you get that?"
"Haymitch…" she sighed.
"It is not fucking up for arguments." he cut her off. "I'm not losing anyone else. I'm not losing you. I can't. I fucking can't. You die, I drink myself into a coma. You get that? You get that?"
He looked half mad, disheveled and wide eyes, and she nodded slowly, wincing when her shoulder jolted a little. She would humor him but it wouldn't change the facts. She couldn't bear the thought of losing him either and she would do whatever it took to make sure she didn't have to live without him. They were codependent now. They needed each other like they needed air to breathe. She appeased his demons and he kept hers at bay.
"I love you." she pleaded.
He opened his mouth and closed it again, bringing her uninjured hand to his lips and pressing an almost brutal kiss against her knuckles. "Can't lose you, sweetheart. Can't."
Because he loved her too.