4

The boy was sobbing his heart out, his face buried in her neck, and for a few seconds, all Effie could do was hold him as blood rushed to her ears, deafening her to everything else.

I think I killed her.

Her gaze finally darted to the house across the street, her first thought being Katniss because she was the only significant her in Peeta's life she knew about.

I think I killed her.

Haymitch's house was dark, absolutely no sign anyone was still awake or of an ongoing disaster.

She took a deep breath, tightened her embrace despite the fact Peeta was already clinging to her hard enough that her ribs were starting to hurt and gently petted the back of his head.

"Peeta, darling, what are you talking about?" she asked. She got no answer. It was like the boy was crying out years worth of tears. He swayed a little, slumped harder on her… She barely managed to keep them both upright. "Peeta, you need to calm down, sweetie. It will be alright. Everything will be alright. I need you to work with me now, alright? We cannot stay here."

Was it the forced calm in her voice or how reassuring she managed to sound? She wasn't sure but she felt him nod against her shoulder and he didn't resist when she steered him toward the couch after toeing the front door shut.

He collapsed on the couch and immediately bent in two, hiding his face in his hands, still crying hard, still falling apart, breathing so loudly that Effie was half afraid he would make himself sick. She hastily pushed away the rare expensive books just in case and then kneeled next to him, rubbing his back, feeling at a loss…

"Can you explain to me what happened, darling?" she asked gently. "Is someone hurt? Did you have an accident?"

She hadn't heard his truck, she realized, had he run all the way there?

A massive shudder made his whole body twitch and he hiccupped a few times. She patiently watched him try to get himself under control, rubbing his back until he finally dropped his hands and looked at her. His cheeks were bathed with tears, he was sweaty and there was something a little feverish to his puffy eyes. There was also a quickly darkening bruise on his cheek.

Above all though, it was the hopeless despair that made her heart clench.

"Look at the state you are in…" she gently chided, clucking her tongue. She reached for his cheek, to assess the damage and, perhaps, to heal it with a touch of magic, but he flinched. She immediately froze, her hand hovering next to his face, feeling sick to her stomach because she knew what that reaction meant. She did her best to control the growl in her voice, to make sure it wouldn't be mistaken as any sort of anger against him. The shame that flashed on his face was hard to bear. "I will just heal the bruise, then, shall I?"

She sounded breathless to her own ears, her voice strangled.

Her hand started to glow when she silently worked the spell and she passed it over his cheek while he watched in shock.

"You need to tell me who hurt you, Peeta." she said and she didn't leave room for negotiations this time. Her tone was firm, determined. "This cannot go on. I will not allow it. We gave you as much time as I am comfortable giving."

He needed to tell her so she could storm that bakery and burn it down to the ground. And burn it she would. With the man responsible for his injuries inside.

The fury swelled inside her chest and her fingers glowed brighter and brighter until she was forced to take a deep breath and remind herself she was not as powerful as Haymitch liked to think she was. It had all been a fluke, she was in control and her magic would not take over. Even when she was lost in the midst of a vengeful wrath.

"I think I killed her." Peeta mumbled again, his voice breaking in the middle of the sentence. "I'm a monster. I… I'm a monster."

"You are certainly not a monster." she countered, grasping his hand and squeezing even when he flinched again. "You…"

"Yeah, I am." Peeta insisted, still fighting to even his breaths. Tears were still rolling down his cheeks. "Ever since the fear demon… The anger… I couldn't… I couldn't shake it off. And then… Katniss and… Tonight…" He shook his head. "I didn't mean to… I didn't mean to, Effie… But maybe I did a little…"

He broke down in sobs again.

He didn't hurt Katniss, she told herself again. Katniss was fine and asleep next to Prim across the street.

Still, she discreetly wriggled her fingers to work another spell, immediately feeling the cost of it taking its toll. She felt faint and dizzy.

"Haymitch." She reached across the street for his mind. The silent communication spell was one she had been looking at for a while but it was taxing and the distance only increased the difficulty. It had been hard to sustain when there had only been a corridor between them, a street, two yards and she didn't know how many rooms were too much. And, to add insult to injury, he appeared to be asleep. She couldn't get a good hold on his mind, it was slippery. "HAYMITCH!" she thought louder, with all the magical strength she could muster.

She imagined him jumping awake, knife slashing at an invisible opponent…

It took a few seconds before she got an answer.

"STOP DOING THAT." His thought was loud enough to make her wince with the beginning of a headache. "What the fuck do you want?"

"Check on Katniss." she demanded.

"Why?" he replied and she hoped he was already getting out of bed and going because she wouldn't be able to sustain the spell for much longer and Peeta was still falling apart in front of her. She didn't explain. She simply waited, biting the inside of her cheek, gathering every ounce of her power… "She's fine." he told her finally. "Asleep. Both of them. What's going on?"

"I have a situation here with Peeta." she said, knowing her voice was probably sounding faint to him because the spell was slipping away from her. "We are safe. Don't come. Not yet. I will text you."

The spell broke with a snap that made her whole body jerk. Fortunately, she didn't think Peeta noticed. Her attention on her immediate surroundings again, she squeezed the boy's hand.

"Peeta, darling, who do you think you hurt?" she whispered. "You have to tell me in case someone out there needs help."

She couldn't imagine Peeta assaulting a random girl for the fun of it. And yet when the fear demon had had them under his control… The fight with Gale had been terrible to watch. She could understand losing control better than anyone else.

"I'm a monster…" he whispered again. "I'm bad. I'm… I'm bad, Effie."

"No, you are not." she insisted. "We did a cloaking spell yesterday, didn't Katniss tell you about that? Bad people… Monsters would never be able to find the Village now. Never mind enter it. See? You are not bad, darling. What you are is exhausted and upset. And perhaps even in shock."

She reached for the plaid that resided on the back of the couch purely for decoration sake and wrapped it around him. Her head was spinning but she resolutely pushed it aside. She would have to stop casting complicated spells for a while if she didn't want to end up in a magical exhausted coma once more.

He grabbed the thin blanket and burrowed a little into it, licking the tears off his lips. He wiped his cheeks on his sleeve and she made a small face, barely stopping herself from telling him off for not using a handkerchief.

"I… I don't want to be like her. I don't…" he confessed, his voice hoarse. He needed fluids, she noted, but she didn't want to leave him alone to fetch some water just yet.

"Like who?" she insisted.

"My mom." he finally breathed out in a shudder.

What she immediately thought was that perhaps he was not the only one being abused in that household and that Peeta viewed his mother accepting the situation as weakness. That was the typical pattern, at least.

"Is your mother hurt?" she asked, already looking around the living-room for the phone she didn't remember even taking out of her purse earlier. "Did your father hurt her?"

"My father…" he repeated slowly, as if he was too tired to properly understand. He dropped his head in his hands again, pressing the heels against his eyes. "I pushed her down the stairs."

Effie froze.

She froze, swallowed, re-evaluated…

"You…" She cleared her throat. "You what?"

"She was in one of her moods… She hit me again." he droned out flatly, lacking any sort of energy whatsoever. "I told her to stop… I told her… I was so angry. I pushed her. I didn't mean… I didn't think of the stairs… I just…" He rubbed his eyes and then met her gaze and held it. "I'm like her. I didn't want to be like her but I am… I did the same thing she would. I hurt her instead of…"

It wasn't the father.

Effie took the information in stride. "Did you call 911?"

He shook his head. "Dad told me to go, that he would take care of it, that I couldn't stay there."

"Was she alive?" she asked because she had to.

His eyes filled with tears again but he didn't break down in sobs that time. She suspected he didn't have any energy left for that. "I don't know…"

"Alright." she said firmly, taking charge. She stood up too quickly and had to reach for the couch's armrest to steady herself…

"Are you alright?" he asked, sounding so worried…

How could that boy believe himself to be anything but good? Even right then in the midst of a personal tragedy, he was concerned about someone else's wellbeing…

"Of course, do not worry." She flashed him one of her cheerful smiles and cautioned him to stay where he was for a moment. She fetched a bottle of water and her purse. "Type your father's number for me, please, darling. We will check on your mother for your peace of mind. I am certain everything is fine."

She hoped everything was fine because as much as she wanted to see that woman with a broken neck she didn't want Peeta to have to bear the guilt of it for the rest of his life.

She forced him to drink the water slowly so he wouldn't upset his stomach while she waited for the call to dial. It went to voicemail so she dialed it again. And again. And again.

Mr Mellark only picked up on the fifth attempt and he didn't sound pleased. "Yes? Who's this?"

"Mr Mellark, I am Peeta's Art teacher." She introduced herself without flourish, her voice taking a sharp angry edge that made the boy flinch. She forced herself to soften it, if only a little, to assume a front of cold politeness. "Peeta is extremely distressed and I would very much appreciate it if you could give me news of his mother's wellbeing."

There was such a long pause on the other end of the line that she thought for a minute that he had hung up on her.

"Art teacher, you said?" the man said slowly, clearly nervous. "Look, I don't know what Peeta told you…"

"Enough." she hissed through her teeth, managing to keep a lead on her temper only because the boy was staring at her. "He told me enough. Please, do answer my question."

"It was my fault." Mr Mellark said quickly. "Liddy is fine. I startled her, she lost her balance and she stumbled down the stairs but she's fine. Just a bruised hip. Whatever my son said…"

"Oh, we will have words about what your son has to say, never fear." she snapped, before reaching for Peeta's hand. "Your mother is alright, darling. I will put the kettle on, shall I? Some chamomile will do you good. And perhaps a sandwich? Are you hungry?"

Peeta shook his head but she could see some of the tension leaving him. He curled up against the armrest of the couch and she bit back a comment about his dirty sneakers on her brand new sofa before standing up. She waited until she was in the kitchen and she was certain he couldn't hear her anymore before speaking again.

"I hope you understand I will not allow this to continue any longer." she snarled. "You put him in a situation where he had to hurt someone to defend himself and I will not have it. He is deeply upset. And with good reason. And that's without talking of the various scars and injuries he suffered in the oh so tender care of your wife."

"Do you really think it would be better for him to be sent into the system? To be put in foster care?" Mr Mellark retorted. "I do my best. I… I do my best."

"Well. Clearly, your best is not enough." she growled. "You can expect to hear from me again tomorrow. It goes without saying I will not allow Peeta to go back to your household."

She hung up before the man could remind her she had no legal right to forbid Peeta to do anything and, above all, that she had no power to stop him from recalling his son home. She also preferred to put an end to the conversation before she gave in to the urge to hex the baker and his wife to hell and back.

She prepared Peeta's infusion, fixed him a sandwich even though he had said he wasn't hungry and carried the tray back to the living-room. The boy had curled up further on her couch, half asleep.

Exhausted, more likely than not.

He had suffered from a concussion less than a week earlier.

"Here you go, dear." She placed the tray on the coffee table with a small smile.

"Are you sure she's alright?" he whispered, rubbing his face as he sat up. "I didn't… I just got so angry…"

She frowned "Peeta, listen to me." She sat down next to him on the couch and squeezed his shoulder. "You were only defending yourself. You did nothing wrong. In fact, if the same situation ever arises again, I expect you to do the very same thing. You should never let anyone hurt you. Never."

The boy swallowed hard. "She never loved me. I don't know what I did to her. She never… She loved my brothers just fine. It's me she…" He shuddered. "I don't want to be like her. I don't want to have all that anger I can't control. I…"

"You are nothing like her." she promised, shaking her head. "You could never be like her."

He reached for the cup of chamomile, cradled it between his hands, his shoulders slouched… "You're going to tell Haymitch."

"Yes." She didn't see the point in lying. "Although I suspect he already knows. We were… waiting for you to come to us, Peeta."

"I didn't want anyone to know." he whispered, closing his eyes. Shame and anger battling on his face. "I shouldn't have told Katniss. I don't know why I did. After… After it was like there was no point keeping the secret anymore and now…"

"Now, you will be safe." she finished slowly when he let his sentence trail of. "Tomorrow we will go to the police…"

"No." he snapped, clutching the cup harder. So hard she was almost afraid it would break.

"I am sure Haymitch will come with us if you would prefer him to…" she insisted.

"No." he repeated, his voice rising. He wasn't quite glaring at her but it was close. "I don't want… I don't want to go to the police. I don't want my family to have problems."

Effie licked her lips, lifted her chin a little because when in doubt… When in doubt, she had been taught you kept your chin high, your eyes bright and you smiled. But there was very little to smile about right then.

"Your family hurt you. What they did was wrong." she countered. "And for that, there needs to be consequences."

He shook his head. "I don't want that. And you don't get it… My mom's on the town council. It's not… They'll never believe me. She's a good councilwoman. People like her. My brothers will take her side. Everyone will take her side."

"Peeta, I understand this is difficult but…" she pressed.

"No." he hissed. "And if you try to get me to talk to the police I will just tell them you're lying. You healed the bruise. There's no proof anymore."

She pursed her lips. "Peeta…"

"Are you going to force me?" he challenged.

That was a very good question to which she didn't yet have an answer. She wanted him safe and out of that house but to steal his agency even further by taking the choice to seek justice away from him…

"I am willing to wait until you are ready." she replied calmly after a moment. "However, you will be staying with me until further notice. Or with Haymitch if you would prefer that arrangement but this is non-negotiable. You are not going back there. Are we clear?" He opened his mouth to answer but she lifted a hand. "And before you say anything and so you have all the facts, let me tell you that if you choose to disobey me and go back, the next time I see a bruise, a burn or a hint that your mother has touched you, I will personally turn her into a cockroach and stomp on her." She did smile this time and, perhaps, it was a chilling smile but it was also genuinely felt. "See? I am not certain which one of us is the real monster here. I would kill her without a second thought for having hurt you."

She held Peeta's tired blue gaze until he finally lowered it to the cup of chamomile. "I'm still so angry… Aren't you scared I will hurt you next?"

Her smile softened. "Not in the least. As for the anger…" She touched his arm. "I would advise you not to let it fester… You do not want to end up a bitter grumpy man like Haymitch, after all."

The joke had the desired effect and his lips twitched a little. But not long and not a lot. He took a sip of the chamomile and rubbed his eyes again.

"Haymitch's a hero." he mumbled. "Ending up like him wouldn't be so bad."

"Let's not tell him that. His head is big enough." she teased. The boy looked ready to crash and she sighed. "I will go upstairs and get the guest room ready for you."

"I'm fine on the couch." he protested. "It's late. I don't want to bother you."

"It's no bother." she denied and then hesitated. "And if you choose to stay here with me… We can paint it, you know. I understand pink is not your favorite color."

He flashed her a tired smile and she had the feeling she was pressuring him too much so when he told her again he was fine on the couch for the night, she reluctantly accepted. She grabbed her phone on her way to the stairs, took the quickest shower in history and then settled in her bed, fighting sleep but knowing Haymitch must have been digging a hole with his pacing on the other side of the street.

'I may just have blackmailed Peeta into letting me adopt him by threatening to murder his mother if he went back to his family.' she typed.

She hit send and dropped her head on the pillow, stared at the ceiling and let out a long deep sigh.

This was certainly not the type of complications she had envisioned when she had been sent on this particular mission.

It was probably also very telling that Haymitch objected neither to the blackmail nor to the threats.

'Ur telling me it was the mother?' his text read.

It sickened her only to think about it. It was just as wrong when a father abused his child, of course, but to think a mother would do something like that to her son…

'He accidentally pushed her down the stairs earlier.' she explained. 'She's fine. Unfortunately.'

'The kid?' he texted back immediately.

'Upset.' she typed back and then winced. 'Ashamed. I think you should talk to him at breakfast tomorrow. He looks up to you a lot.'

'Sure' he answered within a minute. 'U ok?'

She took a moment to ponder that. Was she? She was upset too. Furious, even.

'He doesn't want to go to the police.' she texted. 'I want to feed her to a lamia demon.'

Lamias were monstrously ugly and digested their victims while they were still alive. A slow excruciating death. Fitting.

It took longer for Haymitch to answer. 'Lamia r tricky. Maybe we can push her in a vampire nest'

She smiled in relief that he didn't think her a monster for contemplating killing a human.

They traded a few more messages planning gruesome murders until she fell asleep.

Unsurprisingly, she had nightmares.

Soooo Peeta's mom isn't dead BUT that's only temporary if Effie has something to say about it XD What did you think of this chapter? (I know I promised everlark, it is coming do not worry next chapter we are going to have a... shall we say furry problem?).