Prompt: I'm throwing this at you know, bc I know you'll give me the feels ;P Imagine a pre-THG situation with an anti-capitol attack after a Games party and Haymitch throwing himself in the line for Effie. I leave the rest to you ;)

Stupid Reflex

"What's the delay?" Haymitch grumbled, shifting in his seat.

Sitting on those stone benches that formed the City Circle was never comfortable, even in the VIP area. As it was they had been waiting for the Parade to start for a good fifteen minutes now.

Effie checked her watch for the third time between two cheerful waves at another escort or Gamemaker. That was the thing about the Parade… Everyone had to attend. Mentors, escorts, Gamemakers, stylists… The red carpet before the actual parade was always long and the place was crowded.

"I do not know. We will be completely off schedule!" she admitted without departing from her smiles.

The stylists had yet to join them and they weren't the only team missing them. One and Two had theirs, Six and Ten too from what he could see… Everyone else was fidgeting on their seats, regularly calling out to their escort or one of the Gamemakers to ask what was going on.

It had only been fifteen minutes but those things were usually down to the minute and he didn't really like the obvious patrols of Peacekeepers. In the city, Peacekeepers tended to remain in the shadow. They were there to protect not enforce unlike in the Districts. Right then though…

"I don't like this, sweetheart…" he said, dread coiling in his stomach.

He wasn't the only victor who seemed to be nervous.

He caught Chaff's eyes over the crowd and his friend's face was somber.

He was about to tell Effie to stay where she was while he sneaked down to see if someone had some information when the first shot resonated in the Circle.

There was a second of utter stillness and then Head Gamemaker Torello fell down and someone screamed.

Another shot and Five's escort collapsed.

This time, everyone started screaming and running at the same time and it was chaos. Peacekeepers shouted instructions that weren't listened to, gunshots kept booming…

Before he paused to think, Haymitch grabbed Effie's arm and urged her toward the closest safe place he could think of: the Center. It was chaos though, the crowd closed on them, a few people fell and were stomped over…

Effie almost lost her footing once but he kept her up on her feet.

"Don't go down!" he shouted. "Whatever you do, don't…"

Someone was shot dead right next to him and the crowd scattered. Haymitch cursed and pushed Effie toward a statue of Snow – that he would go there for cover was irony at its finest. Peacekeepers were shooting back but there must have been more than one attacker because people were dropping left and right. Not just people, he realized quickly, but Gamemakers and escorts…

He caught the reflection of the sun against something shiny on his left and barely had time to put himself in front of Effie. The bullet caught him in the upper chest and he would have fallen if she hadn't caught him and half-carried him. They collapsed on the ground behind the large base of the statue.

"Oh my God! Oh my God!" she kept muttering, fat tears rolling down her cheeks, ruining her make-up. He felt her hands roaming on his chest – not in the way he liked – tearing his shirt open… "Haymitch… Haymitch, I don't know what to do! Stay awake! Stay… I don't know what to do!"

She didn't know what to do with the blood quickly leaving his body. She had propped him against the stone of the statue and he spared a look down, a bit dazed. Not good. Not good at all.

"Pressure." he hissed.

"Oh! Oh, yes!" she hiccupped. She tore a generous amount of fabric from her dress and pressed it against the wound.

"Harder." he breathed out.

It wouldn't stop it though. He was pretty sure it was bad. Possibly dying bad.

"That is what you say every time." she laughed and it sounded hysterical. "I do not think you will be able to take it hard any time soon. Why, you might have to deal with vanilla for a while…"

"Vanilla's good." he mumbled. "You can go on top too."

"You are too generous." she deadpanned, looking left and right with obvious despair. "Help will come. I… I am certain Peacekeepers will come any minute."

He could still hear gunshots in the distance though. Whoever those people were, they had come prepared.

They were sitting ducks there.

"Took a bullet for you." he muttered.

"Yes. And it was very foolish." she snapped, wiping her eyes on her forearm. She lost a fake eyelash in the process. The hand that was pressing fabric on his chest was shaking. "I am grateful but it was very foolish."

"Need to get away." he forced himself to say. It hurt to talk and his sight was blacking out. It hurt to breathe. "Get out." The Circle was a deadly trap. Perfect place for an ambush. "Not the Center. Streets… Away…"

They would shoot anyone trying for the Center right then. If she could reach the narrow streets though…

"You are too heavy for me to carry, Haymitch." she retorted. "We will never make it."

He shook his head, blindly feeling around for the hand on his chest. "Alone."

She looked puzzled until understanding dawned on her face. "Like hell!"

She was terrified. It was so obvious that she was terrified… And she should have been. She had no business standing in the middle of a gun fight.

"Dying." he said.

"Certainly not!" she huffed. "I forbade it." A steady string of gunshots echoed nearby and she startled badly, letting out a small whimper as her eyes darted around, looking for… Relief washed over her face and he wanted to know what had made her so happy but he couldn't look away. His grip slackened on her wrist and his hand fell flat in the dust. He focused on her face because it was the only thing that seemed to matter at that moment. She looked like a washed-out painting. Colors running down her cheeks. "He has been shot." she explained. "Please, I…"

She was pushed aside rather brutally and a stronger hand pressed on his chest, tearing a pained moan from his throat.

"Taking a bullet for her? Really, buddy? Really?" Eleven's victor spat, clearly not happy with him. "I swear, Haymitch, I swear, if you die because of that woman, I'm gonna bring you back to kill you myself." Chaff made a face. "And if you get me killed for her, I will be very pissed. Very, very pissed."

He tried to answer but the only thing that passed his lips was an incoherent sound. He could hear Effie sobbing quietly next to him.

"Stop crying." Chaff ordered harshly. "This is a fucking mess. We need to get him to the Center." Haymitch tried to protest but his friend just waved his stump in the air. "Yeah. I know. But someone's been stupid enough to get himself shot so we need help." He heard fabric tearing, more stuff was pressed against his chest… "Listen to me, Trinket. We're gonna run and you're not gonna look back, alright? Whatever you see or hear, you run straight for that door and you pray they open it for us."

"Haymitch…" Effie protested.

"I've got him. You just go and try not get yourself killed." Eleven's victor grumbled. "Clearly, he wants you alive."

The moment Chaff hauled him up over his shoulder, Haymitch's sight went black.

He woke up feeling sluggish, blinking up at harsh lights on a white ceiling.

"Haymitch?" Effie's voice called softly. She cradled his hand in hers, he felt her lips on his skin… "The doctor said you might be a little disoriented… Do not panic. You had surgery. I am right here and… I won't leave you alone. You are safe and…" Her voice broke. He would have loved to ask what the fuck was going on – surgery for what? – but he felt himself going under again. "I am staying right here. I promise."

It wasn't that bad, then.

He trusted her to keep him safe.

The next time he woke up, the pain was impossible to ignore. It wasn't as crushing as he felt it should probably be, thanks in part to the drugs that made his mind a little slow.

"Did I get shot?" he muttered before he even opened his eyes, half hoping the whole thing was a drunk delirium.

"You will recover just fine." Effie answered, sounding weak and tired. He wondered how long she had been sitting there. "It was… It was serious. They told me… You flatlined twice during surgery, they had to… You died. You…" He opened his eyes to find her crying silently, her face bare of make-up, her eyes red and puffy… The pink wig was still on her head and she was still wearing the torn dress. "Haymitch…"

He reached for her face and missed his mark by a few inches but she brought his hand to her cheek and leaned into it, clearly giving up on trying to look collected. She sobbed and sobbed and he couldn't do a thing because the smallest move made his body hurt.

This wasn't clever, he realized, not clever at all. They had both showed their hands there.

The door opened and Chaff walked in with a steaming cup of… something. He scowled a little when he saw the state Effie was in but simply closed the door behind him without commenting, turning his attention to Haymitch. "Good to see you awake. And, you know, not dead."

"Thanks." he snorted and immediately regretted it because that hurt. He waited for Effie to stand up and pretend everything was fine with her but she just sat there, slumped and defeated like he had never seen her, clinging to his hand like it was a lifeline. He let go of her face and their fingers fell on the mattress next to his hip. "The fuck were those people?"

"Rebels." Chaff explained, handing the cup to Effie. It took a few seconds before she reached for it and his friend didn't look impressed with her. "Look, he's awake, he's obviously fine… Go back to the penthouse, take a shower, sleep for a few hours… It's getting ridiculous, love."

"I am fine." she denied. "Thank you for the coffee."

"It's been three days." Eleven's victor insisted.

Effie ignored him, taking a sip of the steaming cup of coffee and staring at their entwined fingers.

"Rebels?" Haymitch prompted because the whole thing was awkward and he was too tired to care about it.

"Yeah." Chaff nodded, lips pursed and still glaring at Twelve's escort. "Anti-Games. Anti-Capitols."

"The tributes?" he asked.

"They've been moved to the Center. The Games have been postponed until…" Eleven's victor shrugged. "Those guys got a few Gamemakers, a couple of escorts and three victors including you. It's gonna take a couple of weeks to reorganize everything and replace everyone." Chaff's gaze hardened. "Now, buddy… Do we talk about the elephant in the room or what? What the fuck did you think you were doing?"

He scowled, automatically squeezing Effie's fingers. "Fuck off, Chaff."

"Classy." his friend scoffed. "Not like I risked my neck for yours."

"Didn't ask you to." he retorted.

"Sure, you didn't." Chaff snapped. "You just went and got shot for a…"

"Careful." he advised in a growl.

"Enough!" Effie cut in, clearly losing her temper. He waited for the rant but it didn't came. She just brought the cup of coffee to her forehead and closed her eyes. "Enough." she repeated in a softer tone. "It doesn't mean anything. It was a reflex. Wasn't it, Haymitch? I was right next to you and you saw the gun… It was instinctive. It does not mean more than that."

Her blue eyes looked straight into his, almost begging him to play along with her.

They both knew better, he figured, but…

"Yeah." he agreed. "Just a stupid reflex. Not like I would die for you or something."

A small smile briefly stretched her lips and she turned her tired gaze to Chaff. "See? It was just a stupid reflex. It is what he will tell Caesar when he asks."

Haymitch frowned. "Why would Caesar asks?"

"Oh, I don't know…" Chaff sneered. "'Cause you got shot for your escort and a lot of people saw it? 'Cause Trinket has been haunting the Games Clinic for three days in that state?" He waved his stump at the escort. "How you're gonna explain that, love?"

"I am grateful he saved my life and, while we have our arguments, Haymitch and I have been colleagues for a long time and thus are friends." she replied. "This is PR, Chaff. I excel at it. There is not a story I cannot spin."

"It ain't the audience you're gonna have to convince." Eleven's victor spat. "You've been stupid. Both of you." He pointed his stump at Haymitch. "I look at you and you know what I see? I see a guy who's so in love with that woman he jumps ahead of bullets without thinking twice for his own safety. You saw another victor grabbing their escort like you did? Don't think so." He pointed his stump at Effie. "I look at you and I see a lovesick desperate woman who almost lost the love of her life." Haymitch opened his mouth but Chaff didn't let him say anything. "That's what you fucking look like. And if you think Snow's stupid enough to buy your friendship story or even the fuck buddies thing you've got going on… Don't bother trying to deny it, Trinket, we're past that point now." Effie glared at him but remained silent. Haymitch's best friend shook his head. "Smartest thing to do for everyone involved is for you to quit and for you to… Forget about her. Unless you think she's worth becoming their bitch. In that case, be my guest. But you better be very sure, Haymitch, 'cause once you go there, the only way you're getting out is with one of you in a coffin."

Chaff stormed out on that ominous statement.

They both remained silent after the door had slammed on his back.

"To be honest, he might be right but I cannot really bring myself to care right now." Effie declared eventually. "I can get the speculations under control though. And Brutus did get Valeria to the Center so his claim that you are the only victor who tried to help their escort is ridiculous. There must have been others."

"He's fucking her." he pointed out.

"Irrelevant." she dismissed. "I am not quitting and you are not… You are not forgetting about me. We will deal with this. I do believe President Snow has more important worries at the moment than finding out if you and I are more involved than we claim. Not that we are." She hurried in adding the last part when she saw his wince. "We have lost our Head Gamemaker, people are in no mood to watch the Games after this, the security breach alone is flabbergasting… Trust me, he has more urgent problems than us."

He knew Chaff had a point.

He knew.

But he also had taken a bullet in the chest not too long ago and he was tired and in pain and her solution seemed like the easiest one.

"Fine." he agreed, his thumb stroking the back of her hand once. "But I'm okay now. Go back to the penthouse, get some rest and then go out there and get on top of the story."

She pouted but eventually nodded, finishing her coffee in a few long gulps.

"Thank you." she said quietly. "For saving my life."

"Stupid reflex." he smirked.

She snorted and leaned forward to press a kiss on his lips, danger of being discovered be damned.