A Shield In The Night

The creaking of the door was enough to make Haymitch snap from slumber to awareness in a flash. His muscles tensed when he felt the presence creep closer to the bed but he forced himself to remain still, on his stomach, his eyes closed and his breathing deep.

He was ready to bolt and strike at the merest aggressive move but the intruder simply stood there, seemingly hesitant, then they reached straight for what laid under his pillow and it was only the faintest whiff of a familiar perfume that stopped him from pulling her down and knocking her off.

"Effie?"

She gave up on any attempt at stealth and simply plucked the old hunting knife from its hiding place to toss it a little too carelessly for his taste on the nightstand.

"How many other women sneak into your bed in the middle of the night?" she retorted with amusement.

That was a fair point and it had been a ridiculous question. She was the only one he had allowed in his bed in years by that point and she was probably well aware of it. Besides, even if she hadn't been, who else on that Victory Train was going to sneak into his room?

He didn't bother rolling off his stomach to look at her, he simply grumbled when she pulled the sheets back long enough to slip into his bed because of the cold air that tickled his skin. They weren't far from Seven and Seven was high in the mountains, winter wasn't any kinder there than it was in Twelve.

Soon enough, her warm body was plastered to his naked back. If she found objection to his lack of clothes, she didn't say – then again, she had only ever complained about his habit of sleeping naked when he wandered around without clothes on in the morning – she nestled her cheek between his shoulder blades and wrapped her arm around his waist.

He waited for her hand to wander – because his leg was bent at the knee and the angle was just right for her to slip it under his thigh – but her fingers simply came to rest on his ribcage, accidentally or not covering the swollen scar that an axe had once upon a time left on his skin.

He waited for the explanation that should have been coming – because they weren't in a habit of just… sneaking in the other's bedroom to steal some cuddle time. That wasn't them. That wasn't how they did things.

He waited a long time. So long that her breathing started evening out and he was pretty sure she was going to fall asleep on him, quite literally.

"What's up, Princess?"

His voice came out tired and a little raspy, like it often got in the middle of the night.

Her arm briefly tightened its hold around his chest.

"Nothing." she hummed in what could have passed for a cheerful tone if he hadn't known her so well.

"Effie." he chided, not too harshly.

He didn't have it in him to be harsh with her lately. Everything was too uncertain. He snapped at her, of course, out of frustration mostly. The Tour was terrible, Katniss did what she could but she was no actress, Peeta was slowly closing off, Cinna kept whispering reassuring promises of a revolution to come, and meanwhile the Districts were the ones suffering.

He was frustrated and he snapped because that was who he was but it wasn't personal and she never took it like that. It had been personal for long enough that she knew the difference now.

"I have been having nightmares." she finally admitted after a few more seconds. "I haven't been sleeping well and I… I am very tempted to… I had some sleep syrup shipped to Ten for Katniss, you know, and the bottle has been sitting right there in my room and…"

"You don't take that shit anymore." he spat before she even finished. His hand found her forearm and gave it a squeeze that wasn't entirely gentle. "Last time…"

"I know." she sighed.

Last time, she had gotten herself addicted to sleeping pills and it had been a mess. He wasn't the best person to cast blame about addiction but they couldn't afford that kind of liability now of all times. She was the responsible one, the sensible one… She was the PR master, she spun tales far more efficiently that he ever could. The ideas might have been his but the doing was entirely hers.

"I just… I really need to sleep, Haymitch, but I can't…" she added. "I don't want to wake up alone and scared again."

So she had come to his bed to sleep, then.

He wasn't sure if it was better or worse than the possibility of her coming to his bed just to cuddle.

If she had bothered initiating sex first, he probably wouldn't have thought it over that much.

He sighed in irritation but his thumb betrayed him by drawing soothing circles on her forearm.

"We all have nightmares, sweetheart." he reminded her.

"Yes. But Katniss has Peeta and Peeta has Katniss and you have your knife." she snapped. "And what do I have?"

The bitterness was potent and so rare that he was thrown for a second. Then he shrugged, careful not to dislodge her head from his back. "Guess you have me."

He felt her body relax against him. He hadn't realized she was that tense.

"That's what I had hoped." she whispered before placing a kiss between his shoulder blades. "And for what it is worth… You can have me too."

"Yeah?" he smirked. "Ain't sure it's doable from this angle…"

His arm was slapped in mocked offence but she muffled her giggles against his skin.