Prompt : Could you please do a fic where post mj Effie aymi used to the bad weather in twelve and one night there's a power cut and it freaks her out because she doesn't like being in the dark after being in prison and aymitch tries to distract her or something

I made an edit but I have nothing written for today on Haymitch week so I thought I would publish a prompt =) It's not a great one sorry!

Power Outage

Effie opened her eyes and it was pitched dark.

The scream remained stuck in her throat and she curled up on herself, unable to tell up from down and left from right. It took several minutes for her to ground herself, her hands running up and down the sheet covering the mattress. There were no sheets in the cells. Nothing as smooth as the fabric under her fingers. The bed smelt like lavender, she had picked the detergent herself especially for the smell. It was strong and fresh. The cells stank of sweat, human wastes, blood and unwashed bodies not lavender.

She wasn't in the cells.

She was in her bedroom in Twelve.

She extended a shaky hand out of bed to press on the switch of the bedside table lamp a few times. Nothing happened. Her clock was off too. No red numbers to tell her the time.

Power outage, her reason told her. It was just a power outage.

The bedroom was too dark. She pushed the blankets back and wandered to the window wearily, peering outside. The snow storm outside was so bad the moon was hidden behind clouds and the pale lights of the stars weren't enough to provide lighting.

The wind was strong.

It sounded like whining.

There had been whining in the cells. Whining and whimpering and whipping sounds…

She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the cold glass. She wasn't in the cells. She was in her bedroom in Twelve. She was in her bedroom in Twelve. She was in her bedroom in Twelve. She told that to herself over and over again. She was in her bedroom in Twelve.

There was a noise downstairs and she jerked with a gasp, her eyes opening wide in fear, already looking for a weapon.

She wouldn't let them take her.

She wouldn't.

Haymitch, she thought, Haymitch had a knife and Haymitch would protect her.

She bolted from the window and into the corridor and crashed against someone. She screamed and tried to run away, only to be grabbed firmly by the shoulders. She kept on screaming and struggling until she was crushed against the man's chest, his fingers tangled in her blonde braid, his voice murmuring in her ear. The smell and the voice were what snapped her out of it. Cheap soap, a long-sleeve shirt that smelt like lavender and faint sweat, a tinge of whiskey… And the voice…

"It's just me. It's just me, Princess. You're safe. You're in Twelve. I've got you."

She gradually calmed down, snatching her arms around his torso and burying her face in his shoulder. When he shifted to grab her under the knees, she let him, allowing him to carry her. It took her a moment to realize he wasn't bringing her back to bed but that he was taking her downstairs instead.

A fire was roaring in the fireplace, casting a soft glow in the living-room. It chased the darkness away. He placed her on the couch and wandered away with the muttered assurance he would be right back.

She crawled closer to the fire, feeling her mind clear a little. Something was dropped on her shoulders and she wrapped herself in his tattered blue woolen dressing gown without question.

"Thank you." she whispered.

"Better?" he asked, sitting down with her on the rug in front of the fireplace.

"Yes." she breathed out, feeling her heartbeat finally settling into its normal rhythm. "I am…"

"Stop saying you're sorry all the time." he grumbled "Told you. It's fine. Got my share of nightmares. You wake me up often enough."

She didn't answer at once, hugging her legs close to her chest and propping her chin on her knees instead, staring at the flames. It was better than glancing at the darkness lurking in the corners.

"It was so dark there…" she said after a moment. "I couldn't… It made no difference if my eyes were closed or open."

His hand found her shoulder and squeezed. "It's over, sweetheart."

"Yes…" She couldn't help her shiver and she didn't protest when he wrapped his arm around her. To keep her warm or to comfort her, she wasn't sure, perhaps both. She leaned against his chest willingly enough. She always felt safe with him. "Talk to me."

"About what?" he asked, his voice gruff.

"I don't know. Anything." she hummed. "Distract me."

He started telling her anecdotes about the children, things she had missed either when she was in the Capitol or because Katniss and Peeta would rather have kept them from her. She surprised herself by laughing at some point.

When the lights flickered back on, she was perfectly relaxed and almost dozing off against his chest.

Neither of them made any move to get up and go to their respective beds.