Prompt: Can I prompt for you to fuck us all up and write something where, post-war, a gossip television channel reports that Effie tried to kill herself (or something of the 'not coping well with her PTSD' kind). When katniss, peeta, and haymitch see the announcement together in 12, the kids are a little surprised by haymitch's strong response because they thought he more or less hated her during the games and has pretty much been refusing to talk about her since they left the capitol.

Keeping Her Safe

Haymitch grumbled about it every evening and yet, every evening, they sat down on the couch in the kids' living-room to watch the daily serial that lasted twenty minutes, failed to ever wrap up a plot point in a satisfactory way and had way too many characters for them to keep track. He wasn't sure how they had ended up addicted to that rubbish. Peeta had accidentally stumbled on the show, Katniss had mocked him until she had gotten into it and Haymitch… Haymitch had mostly – and kept – taunting both about it but he never missed it anymore either.

They were a bit early that night and the newsreel wasn't over yet.

More clips of the reconstruction in Five, more interviews of workers who complained about how they barely got any advantages after the war and it wasn't right, more embarrassed attempts by the Capitol journalist to redirect the conversation… It had been the same for three days now. Panem was a free country and news weren't censured or redacted anymore but it didn't mean the Capitol journalists knew what to do with all that raw content.

The image cut back to the anchor and Haymitch took a sip of his whiskey, ignoring the disapproving looks of the kids at his choice of drinks when they were both nursing a mug of tea. Some days, he really missed Caesar Flickerman.

He tried not to feel too sad about it because there were other people who deserved his grief more but… Caesar had been a good guy when it counted.

And he had more charisma than the people hosting shows and newsflashes nowadays.

"And before we close for the night, we just received word that Effie Trinket was arrested in Capitol Park earlier this evening."

Haymitch jerked at the familiar name. The kids stopped joking to stare at the TV in disbelief.

"She was found wandering around half naked by a Peacekeeper squad and apparently failed to answer questions in a coherent way."

A few pictures flashed by. Effie in a flimsy nightgown that had seen better days in the middle of the park, a vacant look on her face. Peacekeepers handcuffing her. Her falling to her knees while she clearly struggled…

"The hell." Haymitch spat, half-slamming his glass down on the coffee table in his hurry to get up. His heart was racing with a shot of adrenaline. Arrested by Peacekeepers, handcuffed… There was no way she would live that well. Not after the war and what the Capitol did to her. Not after…

"Haymitch?" Katniss frowned. "Do you think she's…"

"Theories vary at this stage but it is likely drugs were involved. She has been brought to the hospital until she can safely be transferred to a Peacekeeper station." the host kept talking, clearly hostile. "Effie Trinket, we will remind you, is the last known escort still alive. Her allegiances during the war were never proven and her unexpected pardon during the Purge…"

He didn't pause to listen to the rest of her curriculum or to the kids' worried questions, he darted to the kitchen and the phone mounted on the wall, reaching for the notebook where he kept the phone numbers only to remember he wasn't home and didn't know where Katniss kept hers. He slammed the phone down on its cradle and started rummaging through the thin layer of papers on the dresser…

"Girl!" he barked when he failed to find what he wanted.

"Will you calm down?" Katniss demanded, appearing on the threshold. "It's probably a mistake."

"Plutarch's number. I need it. Now." he growled.

She opened a drawer and plucked a little notebook, handing it to him with a frown. "What do you even care? You hate her…"

He accidentally met Peeta's eyes. The boy was leaning against the doorframe, watching him with a knowing expression on his face that made the top of his ears burn red. "None of your business."

"Do you think she's alright?" Peeta asked anyway. "I talked to her a week ago and she seemed fine. Do you think… Do you think she truly was using drugs or…"

"Drugs? Effie?" Katniss scoffed. "Come on. She probably… She partied too hard or something and…" She stopped talking by herself while Haymitch punched in Plutarch's number, probably realizing that, even if she had been partying too hard, there was no way Effie would have wandered through the park in her nightgown if she was in her right mind. "She will be alright. She's Effie."

She was Effie and Effie had an uncanny skill to seem alright particularly when she wasn't.

Not that he would know because he hadn't talked to her in ages.

She had made it clear when she had slammed the door in his face before he left the city with Katniss that she never wanted to see him again.

She hadn't been doing well before that though. And he hoped she had been doing better since then but she could be a stubborn bitch and he doubted she had gotten the help she needed.

Drugs… It wasn't really her style but he couldn't stop thinking about sleeping pills and just how narrowly she had avoided getting addicted to them – and narrowly was being generous because he had seen her going through withdrawals when they had cut her off, she hadn't touched the stuff in years but maybe she had relapsed, maybe…

"Plutarch Heavensbee." the former Gamemaker picked up distractedly.

"What the fuck is going on?" he snapped.

"Ah. Haymitch." Plutarch audibly winced. "I was wondering when you would call… I am on my way to the hospital right now."

"How is she?" he snarled, clutching the phone so hard it creaked a little. He forced himself to relax his grip. He had torn one off the wall once. Those things weren't that sturdy.

"I do not know yet. I told you I am on my way there." the former Gamemaker repeated. "What I do know was that she was found in a… Shall we say unsavory part of the park by a squad of Peacekeepers. She failed to identify herself, not that she needed to, really, everyone knows her face. From the report I got she was very incoherent, drugs might or might not be involved, the hospital will tell. It was obvious she was not in a right state of mind though so the Peacekeepers wanted to get her medical help. She refused to follow them and got aggressive so they lost patience. She resisted arrest which complicates my life a little but I will have the charges dismissed by the time I get there, do not worry."

"Don't worry?" he repeated with a scoff. "You want me not to worry? You were supposed to keep an eye on her!"

"And I did." Plutarch retorted. "I found her a job, which wasn't easy between you and me. I offered money when she needed it but she refused me. She does not return my calls and, as far as I can tell, she cut herself off from all her friends and family. It is difficult to help someone who does not want to be helped, Haymitch."

He scowled. "Did she cut herself off from them or did they cut themselves off from her?"

There was a long silence on the other end that was telling.

Effie was a pariah in Capitol society because she had been pardoned when so many others had been killed and that made her a traitor. But she wasn't a rebel either so no District people would forgive her for being an escort. Where was she supposed to fit in?

With them, came the answer, she was supposed to be with them.

But he had offered and she had shut him down.

"Look." Plutarch said and, at the patient cautious tone Haymitch knew he wouldn't like what the man had to say. "The crux of the matter is… I am not entirely convinced she is of sane mind right now. I talked to her father…"

"The father who couldn't be bothered to show up at the hospital, you mean?" he growled, utterly aware both kids were watching him with matching frowns. "The last thing she needs is those people, Plutarch. Her mother… She's a bitch and you know it. The sister blames her for fuck's sake. Don't let them…"

"Her father has been covering some of her debts." Plutarch cut him off. "But there are still enough left that it might become a problem really soon. She barely bothers to go to work, the only reason she has not been fired is because I am a good friend with her boss. She rents a one room apartment and she can barely make rent. She lost more weight, she looks… She's drowning, Haymitch. I discussed it with her father and given her mental health…"

"You want to lock her up." he realized. "You want to have her committed."

Because that was what Capitols did with people who snapped. That what was they had wanted to do with Annie and other victors who simply couldn't cope.

Out of sight, out of mind.

"There are wonderful clinics where…" Plutarch started.

"It's gonna kill her." he spat. "Being locked up is the last thing she needs." He met Peeta's eyes again. The boy was hugging himself, calm but attentive, waiting. His gaze snapped to Katniss. She was a little bit more tense, a little bit more defensive. He hesitated. Katniss was doing much better but she still tended to get lost to her dark memories sometimes. Peeta still had episodes. He still drank and… "We'll take her in."

Peeta relaxed.

Katniss froze but then nodded, her face setting into determination.

"I… What?" Plutarch stammered, clearly taken aback.

"Don't you fucking dare do anything until I get there." he ordered, standing a little straighter. "Can you get me a hovercraft?"

"Haymitch." Plutarch sighed. "Her family…"

"Fuck her family." he snarled. "We're her family. Legally, I still have power of attorney, right?"

Plutarch hesitated. "That was decided in an emergency when her family couldn't be contacted."

"It ain't that they couldn't be contacted, it's that they couldn't be bothered and you know it." he retorted. "She was happy with the arrangement. She trusts me."

Trusted him. Past tense. She didn't want to see him again.

But she would want to get shipped to a clinic where she would be kept sedated and from which she would never escape even less…

"Haymitch." the former Gamemaker insisted. "Are you certain that…"

"Oh, yeah. I'm certain I don't want you Capitols fucking her up any more than she already is." he interrupted. "Get me a hovercraft. And don't you fucking dare decide anything without me there."

He slammed the phone down on the cradle and watched it for a second, furious and worried all at once.

"Why would they give you power of attorney over Effie?" Katniss asked in the resulting silence.

He licked his lips, not quite sure what the girl had understood of what had happened to their escort during the war. "Cause she wasn't in any state to make decisions for herself when we found her."

He let that sink, moving toward the back door. He needed to go home and pack. Hovercrafts made trip to the Capitol or other Districts regularly from Thirteen, it wouldn't take long for Plutarch to find him one. He needed…

"But why you?" she insisted.

"Katniss…" Peeta whispered.

"Cause I have a better claim than most." he snapped in a tone that strongly suggested she dropped it. She wouldn't have, he saw that clearly, but the boy placed a hand on her shoulder and that shut her up.

"Bring her home." Peeta requested.

And Haymitch nodded gratefully. "If you can try to get my guest room livable while I'm gone…"

"Your guest room?" Katniss frowned. "I thought… We can take her in. You'll be mad at her within an hour."

He probably would, once she recovered enough to be her best annoying self, but… He doubted she would feel at ease at the kids'. If they wanted her to get better, they couldn't have her pretend twenty-four seven she was alright and that was what would happen under the kids' roof. With any luck, she wouldn't care as much about keeping up the pretence with him. They had already seen each other at their worst.

He glanced at Peeta who nodded back, understanding a lot more than the girl was probably.

He left without giving an answer.

Six hours later, he was in a city he had vowed never to step back in.

It was the middle of the night but there were a few bored paparazzi outside, probably hoping to get a good shot of Effie being paraded out in handcuffs. They went mad when they recognized him and Haymitch had to do the good old dance of turning his face away and hiding behind his arms so they couldn't get a good picture.

He hadn't missed that.

He found Plutarch in front of her room, fiddling with a tablet, probably working. The man looked tired and a little disheveled but given the late hour it wasn't surprising. The Capitol still greeted him with a smile and a handshake turned into a brief hug that Haymitch didn't really lean into.

"Good news, she was not high." Plutarch explained immediately. "That made it a lot easier to convince the Peacekeepers not to bring up charges."

He hadn't really been concerned about that. Charges never stuck when you had friends in high places. "What happened, then?"

Plutarch shook his head. "She doesn't remember. Likely a flashback a little too vivid. The doctor strongly suggests to keep her sedated for a while but she was calm and coherent enough so I didn't let them give her anything since you told me not to." The Capitol shot him a disapproving look. "Her father has arranged her stay in a private clinic."

"You mean the father who's not here?" he scoffed.

"Elindra wants to distance herself from the scandal." Plutarch sighed. "She is not the warmest mother, I will grant you that. Still, a clinic with professional help…"

"That's not happening, Plutarch." he insisted.

If he had thought it would help, he wouldn't have been so unyielding. The clinic Peeta had stayed in before they had shipped him back to Twelve had been good but that was the exception and not the rule. Doctor Aurelius was a great doctor, he could admit that, but, again, the man was the exception. His own experience told him Effie would be safer with them in Twelve. They could get her doctors there if needed but he didn't want her in a clinic he knew nothing about just to spare her family a scandal.

"Yes, Effie herself was adamant she would rather slit her own wrists." Plutarch deadpanned. "That went a long way into convincing the doctor she wasn't a danger to herself, let me tell you."

The sarcasm flew high over his head. "That's exactly why I can't let that happen. She can't be locked up again. It's gonna trigger her."

Plutarch lifted his hands and let them fall in defeat. "I hope you are right and this is the best avenue. She will be released in your custody, that was the best I could do and her father was not pleased. She was lucid though and signed all the necessary papers so… "

"She knows I'm here?" he asked, strangely apprehensive. He hadn't really stopped to think about how she would feel about that…

"She seemed relieved." Plutarch told him, handing him a small folder. "That's the paperwork. I am terribly sorry but I have an early meeting in the morning and I need to get some sleep. They are letting her out around ten, I will get you a car and make sure a hovercraft can drop you off."

He thanked Plutarch, suffered through the obligatory goodbyes and then quietly made his way into the room. He had expected to find her asleep but her blue eyes darted to him as soon as he stepped inside.

She was curled up on her side, looking far too small in the hospital bed, her blond curls tangled and unkempt in a way that told him everything.

"Hello, sweetheart." he hesitated.

Her eyes filled with tears. He wasn't sure why. Maybe because she didn't want to see him. Maybe because she was humiliated. Maybe because…

"Haymitch." It was a broken plea and he was halfway to the bed before she even finished outstretching her arm. He grabbed her hand and sat down on the mattress next to her stomach, his other fingers going straight to her hair.

"I'm here." he promised. "I'm here now. Everything's gonna be fine, princess."

She relaxed a little when he started petting her hair.

"They want to ship me off to…" she started.

"Not happening." he interrupted. "I'm taking you home with me. The kids are impatient to have you back, you know."

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard. "Did they see? I'm told it was terribly humiliating and…"

"They're just worried." He let his hand slowly drift to her nape. When she didn't protest he wrapped it around the back of her neck and squeezed a little, kneading just enough to loosen the knots there… "We were all just very worried."

"I had a nightmare…" she confessed. "And then I was in the park and… The Peacekeepers… I thought it was just another nightmare… I…" She licked her lips. "They think I am crazy. Perhaps I am."

"Of course you ain't." he scoffed. "You've been through bad stuff. What do they know about bad stuff?" Everyone in Panem had seen war up close but they hadn't seen the worst aspects of it. Torture was awfully personal. Torture was very different than… He forced himself to smirk even if it came out strained. "We're gonna take care of you."

She watched him for a long time, the tears sliding down her cheeks even as she did her best to swallow them down. "I am very, very tired, Haymitch…"

"We've got a few hours before we leave." he said. "You should try to get some sleep."

"I will have nightmares." she whispered. "I always have nightmares. And then I can't wake up. Or I wake up but the nightmare continues."

He was intimately acquainted with that feeling.

"I'll keep you safe." he promised.

He had done a butchered job of that in the past but he could do better.

He would do better.

"Can you hold me?" she hesitated.

She didn't need to ask twice. He lied down behind her and spooned her tight. Funny how much easier it was to breathe when she was in his arms, he mused.

"It's alright, princess." he murmured, nuzzling her nape. "You sleep. I'm right here."

"Keeping me safe…" Her voice was faint so she must have been drifting off already.

"Always." he vowed.

And he meant it.

Haymitch, the knight with a shining bottle as Johanna pegged him in one of my fics... I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know your thoughts!