No prompt. Some gratuitous angst XD
The Rest Of His Life
Haymitch watched her as she gracefully slipped out of bed.
He watched her as she covered her lavender lacy nightgown with a silk dressing gown.
He watched her as she flicked her dyed blond hair over the collar.
He watched and he wished he felt less tired, less old, more prone to grab her around the waist to tug her back on the bed, make her shriek with laughter like he used to do when they were younger…
Past fifty and she looked as gorgeous to him as the day he had met her – scars, wrinkles and all, to her eternal puzzlement.
She could have had anyone, he mused, led any life… And yet she had chosen this. Twelve. The children. Him.
"Do you regret it?" he croaked.
He hated the fact that his voice sounded so weak, so raspy. He liked to pretend it was a cold he couldn't really shake and, mostly, she allowed him the pretence because he had humored her a lot of times over the years to preserve her own dignity.
She startled, clearly not having expected him to be awake, and turned around to look at him, the now permanent worried expression already set on her features. "How are you feeling today?"
"Not dead yet." he deadpanned, because that was all she wanted to know lately, it was all she talked about, all she thought about, all she obsessed about, since the doctor had given his diagnostic. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I won't kick it until we're in the fucking city and they've turned me into a mutt."
Her face closed and she pursed her lips but she had long given up on arguing the point. The moment the kids had finally wrestled a consent out of him, she had given up on selling him the miraculous process.
He hadn't wanted to do it, at first. His liver was failing. Big shock. He had been waiting for it for a while and it had lasted a lot longer than he had expected it to. He didn't fear death, not his own at least, and he had accepted the prognostic easily. A few months… Time to say his goodbyes. Not too bad.
Effie had refused to hear any of it.
She had looked into treatments, transplants that he didn't have a chance in hell to qualify for, alternative medicines… And then she had fallen back on her trusted asset: money and what enough of it could buy.
What enough of it could buy, apparently, was access to cutting edge medical technology in the Capitol, based on numerous studies from their years of creating mutts. For enough money, they created a custom-made organ for you, grown out of your own DNA, and recovery rates were at ninety percents.
The fact that the technology came from mutts had made him say a big fat no.
Never mind the astronomical price they couldn't afford even if they were more than comfortable financially.
She had ranted and he had shouted.
She had cried and he had comforted.
She had begged on her knees and he had cajoled.
Then the kids had started meddling.
He could say no to the kids, like he could say no to her, because there was no way he was letting anyone turn him into a mutt.
But then Katniss had forced the one year-old baby girl who loved to tug on his hair into his arms and snapped at him to explain to his grandchild why he was choosing to die when there was hope.
Fuck, he could say no to a lot of people, no matter how much he loved them, but one look into his little squirrel's grey eyes and he was a goner because dying now meant never seeing how her life would turn out. Willow had had him wrapped around her little finger since the moment she was born. And she wasn't even talking yet. Which was frightening.
So, to Willow, he had said yes.
And there they were, two days away from their grand departure for the city.
And to say he was terrified was an understatement.
Dying, he could probably manage with some dignity.
Dying in the Capitol, on a hospital bed, with a mutt liver in his stomach…
"I see you are your best charming self this morning." she huffed, tightening the knot of her dressing gown. "Breakfast?"
If he had been feeling better, he would have asked 'In bed?' and probably ended up having her for breakfast.
But he was tired and he felt weak and he hated all of it.
"Do you regret it?" he insisted.
She frowned. "Regret what?"
She must have heard the urgency in his voice because she sat down on her side of the bed.
"All of it? Any of it?" he hesitated, not quite knowing himself what it was he was asking. He shook his head. "Choosing me?"
Because it came down to that in the end.
She had chosen him.
Again and again, despite everything and everyone, she had chosen him.
She had chosen to stand by him, she had chosen to love him even when he refused to entertain the mere idea of feelings, she had chosen to be his teammate, she had chosen to forgive him, she had chosen to return to him and, ultimately, she had chosen to leave behind everything she had ever known to live with him at the backend of the country where she couldn't find a decent cup of coffee to her eternal despair.
"Haymitch…"
He looked up, not having realized he had averted his eyes. Her face had softened into something that was both sweet and sad.
"I could never regret any of it, you big idiot." she whispered.
"What happened to darling?" he mocked, his heart still heavy.
She didn't take the bait. "If I had to do it all again to end up right here, I would. The ugly terrifying painful parts included."
"Even if this is how it ends?" he challenged.
"It isn't." she argued, reaching across the bed for his hand. He gave it to her willingly. "I know you are scared about the surgery…" He scoffed but she squeezed his fingers. "I know. But it will work. You will have a few rough weeks, a few difficult months, and then we will have the rest of our lives together."
He took a deep breath, held it for a second and then slowly let it out.
It sounded good, spending the rest of his life with her. Be it a few days or a few years. It was all he wanted really.
"It's so expensive, Effie…" he insisted. "If it doesn't work and I die, it'll all have been for nothing. You're gonna be buried in debts and the kids…"
"Your life is well worth the money." she cut him off. "And the children agree or they wouldn't have offered to participate."
Still, he hated it.
The kids' savings shouldn't be going towards his medical bills, no matter how well the bakery was doing. They shouldn't have to pitch in to…
"Haymitch. I never asked you for anything." she reminded him.
That wasn't strictly true. She had a lot of demands on an everyday basis. He understood what she meant however.
A lot of things had been off the table from the get-go, like children or marriage, and she had never pushed those issues, she had never tried to change him…
"I know." he sighed. "I said I'd do it. Ain't backing out, just…"
"Randomly asking me if I regret our life together?" she mocked. He rolled his eyes but still responded to the kiss she planted on his lips. "No regret, Haymitch, not even a little one. Have you ever regretted choosing me?"
That was an easy question.
Maybe not one he would have been comfortable answering a decade earlier but things changed.
"Never." he told her seriously. "Not even once. You're the best thing that ever happened to me."
A soft smile stretched her lips and he smiled back when he saw it reached her eyes. It was hard to get her to smile like that since the diagnostic.
"I love you." she whispered against his mouth.
Hearing the words had become easier.
Saying them…
Saying them was still hard.
"I love you." he muttered back anyway, just to earn another of those beautiful smiles.
"Now…" she hummed, standing up. "Breakfast."
He knew better than try to say he wasn't really hungry.
She was quite stubborn, his girl, be it to save his life or make sure he was fed.
Then he goes, has the surgery and lives happily ever after with his non-wife. XD I thought up this hc for April Shower because there was no way I was letting him die and it's become my default, alright... Don't blame me. And don't ask me where this angst came from, I don't know. But an 55 year-old Haymitch would be so much more open with his feelings in my head - not THAT much - but YOU KNOW. And obviously we all thanks Willow for her timely birth XD
Anyway... Thoughts? Do you have hc about post mj hayffie?