Prompt: Hi! Could you write something about jealousy Effie to Hazell? I know you wrote like that, but maybe here you could put something where Hazell soothes Effie, saying that Haymitch loves her. Well, or something like that but with this sense. Thank you!

Of Old Friends, Folded Clothes And Battlefronts

There was only so much cleaning Effie could do in the small compartment that was her home away from home in Thirteen.

Everything was spotless, all the pieces of clothing in the room had been folded and put away, she had reorganized the ridiculously tiny bathroom…

She dropped on the chair and propped her elbows on the table, burying her face in her hands. Typically, she had tricks to focus all that restless energy: do her nails, smoke a cigarette, sketch clothes… Her fake nails had been torn away at her arrival and she didn't have a manicure set, she hadn't been able to find a single cigarette in the District and paper was too important to be wasted away with doodles – or so she had been made aware during a briefing.

She had nothing to do but wait and it was driving her mad.

The knock on the door sent her heart racing. Plutarch had promised he would send someone to fetch her as soon as there would be news – that hadn't stopped her from making a fuss when Coin had banished her from Command but it had, at least, reassured her a little. She was terrified of what the news would be, she realized.

She had known sending Katniss to Two was a bad idea. She had argued against it from the very beginning. You don't expose your figurehead, that seemed obvious to her. Katniss was the drive of this rebellion and… Sending her into combat…

The speech had been impressive for something made up on the moment, as always with the girl – it had been powerful enough that she had forgiven her for not using the one she and Plutarch had worked on for hours. It was live, it was impressive and it would probably have convinced Peacekeepers to defect to their side all over the country if the man hadn't opened fire on the Mockingjay. Katniss had gone down. Haymitch had rushed from the side. The feed had cut not long after that.

Effie had studied Cinna's sketches and designs. She had inspected the Mockingjay's outfit before helping the girl to put it on. She knew that Katniss would most likely be fine. She wasn't one hundred percent certain but she knew the outfit was bulletproof and the soldiers would evacuate her as a priority.

What she didn't know, on the other hand, was what Haymitch had been thinking he was doing rushing in the middle of a crossfire when he had no gun and no bulletproof jacket.

Idiot.

Idiot.

Why hadn't he been properly equipped if he had been on the front?

When he would come back, she was going to sew a bulletproof vest on his back so he could never take it off. And she would add pink and glittery embroideries just to spite him.

He would be back.

He had to.

"Come in." she called with a voice that was more shaky than she cared to acknowledge.

She prided herself on her self-control after all.

The door slid open just enough for Hazelle Hawthorne to step through. It remained ajar behind her and Effie focused on the shadows the harsh neon lamps from the corridor tossed on the floor. The lights inside the compartments weren't as powerful as the ones outside. She wasn't sure why. She missed natural sunlight. She was starting to get claustrophobic down there.

"Miss Trinket." Hazelle said, a note of challenge in her voice.

Always a note of challenge in her voice.

She had first met the woman on the day of the Quell's Reaping and while she had been glad to see that Haymitch had finally hired a housekeeper, she hadn't been pleased to learn the housekeeper in question was an old friend. They were too close for her comfort. Haymitch didn't have any women close friends, he barely had any close friends. Effie was used to being his only ally, she was used to him being her only ally. He was the one she trusted above all others and she was as close to him as he would allow anyone to be. She liked it that way.

She didn't like old friends from the past coming back into his life.

All the more so when the friend was relatively pretty, confident and clearly interested.

"Mrs Hawthorne." she replied, a beat too late. A tad less defiantly than usual too.

She wouldn't have minded fighting for Haymitch's attention right then. It would have meant Haymitch was there and in one piece and not…

"You… You can call me Hazelle." the woman offered, suddenly deflating. "I was wondering… I've been asking for news but nobody will answer me and…"

Oh. Of course. Gale was in Two and where Katniss was the boy usually was too, in the thick of the fight. Effie honestly couldn't remember if she had spotted him before the feed had cut, she hadn't been looking.

"I am terribly sorry, they asked me to step out of the room." she cut the woman off, shaking her head. "I do not know anything more." The worry on the woman's face was such a perfect echo of the one she was feeling that Effie felt any animosity toward her melt away. "Plutarch will tell me as soon as they know something if… You could wait here with me."

It clearly wasn't an offer the woman had been expecting but she took a hesitant step toward the empty chair and then a more confident one and before Effie could process it, Hazelle was sitting in front of her across the table.

And it was awkward.

The hostility between them had barely been veiled by civility ever since Haymitch had introduced them – well, Effie had introduced herself after he had failed to do so.

"Would you care for something to drink?" she offered because it was the polite thing to do.

She was out of her chair before Hazelle even answered, glad to have an excuse to do something. Except it was only once she was standing on her own two feet that she realized all she could give her guest was tap water. They weren't allowed any sort of beverage in their room. They weren't allowed much of anything in their room.

"No, thank you." Hazelle answered.

Effie considered sitting back down, as was only proper, but she couldn't resolve herself to immobility. Immobility was so not her. She needed to be in movement. She needed to…

"I am certain they are fine." she declared firmly, as cheerfully as she could manage.

The woman looked at her as if she was completely crazy and Effie fled her gaze, heading to the sleeping area and the pile of clothes she had folded and put aside on the spare bed – the clothes Haymitch had left behind and she had picked up from her floor at one point or another, most of the clothes he had been given in this place, really. She wondered what was left in his room because it looked like almost everything was right there on the spare bed: undershirts to the right, then the shirts, the underwear, the socks, the heavy woolen sweater…

She grabbed the sweater and slipped her arms in the sleeves. She wrapped herself in it and briefly smelled the collar. His smell clung to the wool, slightly off because of Thirteen's basic odorless soap and the lack of liquor.

She wondered if the only reason she had never been assigned a roommate when everyone in the District was sharing was because the situation suited both Haymitch and Plutarch. Haymitch technically lived with the Gamemaker but spent all his spare time in her room, which afforded him the pretence of this being nothing more than recreational and allowed Plutarch a privacy most sought after in that place.

"Haymitch wasn't wearing a bulletproof jacket. Was he?" Hazelle asked.

Effie wandered back to the main room, fisting the woolen sweater in her hands. "No."

There was no hiding the anxiety in her voice.

Not even her escort persona could manage that feat. And yet acting like Twelve's escort was the only thing keeping her upright. Her masks were necessary, her shields, her armors… But without make-up, without wigs and glamorous dresses… Her masks were fragile.

And right now she wasn't sure they weren't cracked.

"He is too clever to get himself killed like that." Hazelle joked but it sounded hollow. Wishful thinking maybe. "They probably evacuated Katniss, right? Gale… Gale will be with her. He has to be, he's there for her protection or something… That's what he said. That's what…"

"The rebels will move heaven and earth to take Katniss to safety." she confirmed. "And I do not imagine your son will let her out of his sight."

"No…" Hazelle half-scoffed, half-chuckled. "I can't imagine that either…"

Effie slowly sat back down at the table, pulling distractedly on the too long sleeves.

"Your boy is very handsome." she commented because it was the only positive thing she could think about Gale Hawthorne. The young man was barely polite with her and only so because of Katniss, he was very anti-Capitol and a little too… rash for her tastes. Besides, well… She supposed when it came down to it, she was on Peeta's team.

"He's brave." the woman whispered, rubbing her face. "I wish he wasn't so brave."

"He is brave." she granted, her gaze darting to the still open door. No one appeared though. Not a soldier coming to fetch her and not Plutarch.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Stupid girl who could not listen when people told her to be careful.

Stupid girl who had to be a hero…

Stupid man who couldn't stop to think for two seconds…

Stupid man…

Stupid…

"How long does it take to re-establish radio contact?" she huffed, talking to herself more than to Hazelle. "Surely Boggs must have reported back by now."

"I'm sure Katniss's fine." the woman hesitated.

"I am not worried about Katniss." she snapped. "Well… I am but…" But the Mockingjay's outfit was as close to being a wearable fortress as possible. "Haymitch should not have been out there in the first place. He has no business going on the front lines. He forgets he is not young anymore. He forgets…"

She stopped herself and shook her head, alarmed to feel the treacherous burn of tears. She bit down on her thumb nail, cursing herself for resorting to habits her mother had driven out of her the hard way. She stared at the door, waiting…

"You really care about him." Hazelle commented.

The surprise was clear in her voice and Effie scoffed. "Of course, I do."

The woman studied her for a long time and then looked down at her own hands. "I believe he cares about you too. I haven't seen him… I haven't seen him acting like that with a woman since… Well… A long time."

She wanted to argue Haymitch only cared so much but lately… He had been better at expressing – without saying the words – that she was important to him. She supposed it had a lot to do with Thirteen and the fact they were safer there, that it was actually better for her to be perceived as close to him rather than expendable… They were more… free. At least, they had the illusion of freedom. She wasn't entirely convinced that District was better than the Capitol.

"You are a good friend of his." Effie observed, keeping her tone light even though the hint of steel pierced underneath. She was a master at layers, after all. Say one thing and mean another…

Hazelle wasn't fooled by the apparent casualness.

"I've known him a long time." the woman confirmed with a small almost indulgent smile. "We used to run with the same group of friends. He had eyes only for Mabel at that time. A bit like with you now."

Effie studied her, trying to figure out if she was sincere or not. The worry hadn't really left the woman's face and she had clearly bigger fish to fry than Haymitch's love life…

Effie relaxed a little.

Not much but a little.

"I am sure Gale is alright." she offered, more genuinely this time.

Hazelle flashed her a strained smile but before she could answer, there was a single knock on the door. Plutarch didn't step inside, he remained on the threshold, barely looking up from the tablet in his hand.

"Good news, Effie. The hovercraft is on its way over as we speak. Katniss is injured but the doctors are confident her life is not in danger." the Head Gamemaker explained "If you would be so kind, I need help right now. I want to film their arrival. I am not sure we can use the footage but… just in case."

Effie blinked, breathing out in relief. "What about Haymitch?"

Plutarch looked up, his features softening. "Haymitch is fine." His gaze darted to the other woman. It took a second for him to place her but then he smiled. "So is Gale."

Hazelle buried her face in her hands in relief and Effie found herself squeezing her forearm in comfort. She didn't have much time to come to terms with the whole thing though. Plutarch dragged her away and gave her orders disguised as suggestions.

She was barely more than a glorified assistant.

Still, she was glad to be asked to supervise the camera crew because it allowed her to be in the hangar when the hovercraft landed. She made sure Katniss' arrival on a gurney was filmed but she didn't try to follow after them. There was a medical team with her and Plutarch had sworn she would be alright so she directed her attention to the other people walking out of that hovercraft.

It took all she had to walk rather than run.

Haymitch looked a little dazed. There was a gash hastily patched with plaster over his eyebrow but he looked otherwise unhurt. His eyes tracked the gurney as it was swallowed by the corridor and then snapped to her as if following a sixth sense.

Effie didn't toss herself at his neck. She didn't kiss him senseless. She didn't slap him for his utter idiocy…

"I see you managed not to get yourself killed." she mocked. At least she tried. Her voice betrayed her. He briefly met her eyes and then pulled her into a hug. She melt against him, sneaking one arm around his waist and another behind him to grab his shoulder. "You scared me." she whispered in his ear.

The hangar was buzzing with activity but she barely noticed. Truth be told, she didn't think he did either.

"Scared myself." he mumbled back, his shoulders sagging. "I need to check on Katniss."

He was shaking a little. She was pretty sure it wasn't from the cold but she stepped back, slipped off the sweater she had stolen and handed it to him. He pulled it on with a grateful quirk of the lips that didn't manage to turn into a real smirk.

"Are you alright?" she asked quietly.

She didn't dare reach for that wound on his forehead. Later. Once they would be back in their room. Then she would touch and kiss and soothe. Then he might let go a little and told her how it truly was.

"I need to check on Katniss." he repeated.

That wasn't really an answer.

But then again, given what they had done at the Nuts in Twelve, how many men had lost their lives… She didn't expect him to be.

So she let him go.

It was alright.

She knew he would seek her out eventually.