Prompt: I have a prompt if you're still taking them? Post mj, effie is living in 12 but atniss (and peeta?) still don't know about her being tortured during the war. The kids have an argument with Effie about something trivial and they (probably mostly atniss based on how their conversations in the books went down) end up shouting at her which triggers a panic attack.

Brewing Fights

Haymitch had developed a keen sixth sense when it came to brewing fights.

Right then, sitting at the dinner table in the children's kitchen, listening to the sounds of clicking silverware and the slightly oppressing hush of the downpour outside, he could feel it coming from miles away. Peeta was chewing on his bread, staring at his plate with a distant look. Katniss was slouched and moody. Effie had given up on small talk a while ago and was now pouting her disapproval at everyone. And he had been drinking a little too much because the whole situation was so awkward he was feeling uncomfortable.

Effie hadn't been with them for so long, all things considered, barely over a week, but, as far as the kids were concerned, it was probably long enough. She had been her usual overbearing flamboyant self in their company and Katniss had already asked him four times how long she was staying.

He had claimed ignorance and he hadn't even been lying.

When she had invaded his house, she had said she was just visiting. However, given the screams that woke him up every night and the mad dashes he had taken to her room to find her shaking and crying, he doubted she was going anywhere anytime soon.

She refused to talk about the night terrors.

They had established a pattern during the last few nights: she screamed herself awake, he rushed over, held and hushed her until she fell back in an exhausted sleep in his arms and then he went back to his room where he proceeded to not go back to sleep because he was too busy imagining everything that had happened to her while they were all in Thirteen. Then, at breakfast the next morning, she darted around the kitchen with manic energy and he watched her with a concern she pretended not to see.

They didn't talk about it.

But something ought to give.

And he was a little bit afraid it was going to give tonight because she was tossing more and more pointed looks at Katniss' slouched posture.

When she cleared her throat, Haymitch winced and wondered if he should put an end to the whole thing before it started.

He opened his mouth to do just that, blurt something about how they really should go back to his house before the storm got too bad, dessert be damned, but Effie was quicker. She was always quicker.

"Katniss, dear, elbows do not belong on the dinner table." she remarked.

And, given the glare Katniss shot back, Haymitch wisely chose to hold his peace.

Maybe he was wrong, after all, maybe it wouldn't escalate into something terrible…

The thing was, it had been raining since that morning and Katniss hadn't been able to go out to the woods for her daily hunt, which made her cranky and broody – which wasn't conductive to any sort of conversation.

Peeta finally looked up from his plate, looked at the girls, met Haymitch's eyes for a long second and then wisely went back to eating his stew.

"What?" Katniss almost snarled.

Effie's lips pursed tighter. They were painted a vivid red and it suited her. He liked the lighter make-up on her, it made her look more like an actual person and less like a parrot. He liked the simpler clothes too, less volume and more form-fitting… The kids had, at least, noticed that but she had laid it at fashion's door rather than on her thinner wallet.

He didn't think neither Katniss nor Peeta had realized just how bad it really was for her. She spun fabulous tales of parties and friends for them and they swallowed every lie. They probably didn't even know what had happened to her during the war. He hadn't told them and they hadn't asked. Maybe hadn't even cared.

"Elbows off the table." Effie demanded. "Manners."

Haymitch scratched his jaw and winced again. "Sweetheart…"

"It's my house." Katniss hissed.

"Yes." the former escort granted with an unimpressed look. "And I noticed you are not quite up to date with what an hostess has to do for her guests. Not your fault, naturally, and no matter, I can teach you." He couldn't tell if the cheer in her voice was fake or not. For all he knew, she really was excited at the prospect of giving etiquette lessons. "This being said, slouching at your own dinner table really is not done. You might disrupt your guests' appetite."

"What appetite?" the girl immediately sneered back, tossing a pointed look at Effie's still mostly full plate. "You've been wasting food since you got here. You know, you don't like what we feed you, you can try going to hunt for something yourself."

Effie flinched. "I do like it and I am grateful for your hospitality…"

"Doesn't look like it." Katniss pressed with a snort. "I'm not even sure why you came here in the first place."

"I wanted to check on you." she argued defensively. "You are still my victors and…"

"No. We're not." the girl snapped. "We're not victors anymore. That's over. And you're not our escort. You're not…"

"Katniss, stop." Peeta cut in, a frown on his face. "Effie's welcome to come and visit us. I like that."

"I think we better call it a night, yeah?" Haymitch suggested, pushing his chair back so he could stand up. Effie didn't move. "Come on, Princess… Everybody's tense tonight. Let's go before we say stuff we don't mean."

She still didn't move. She was holding to the edge of the table, taking deep long breaths through her nose that didn't bear well. He reached for her shoulder and she flinched again.

"But I do mean them." Katniss insisted, a sneer on her face. "Everything's her fault, don't you see?"

"Stop." he growled, moving his hand from Effie's shoulder to her nape. He squeezed gently, trying to massage the tension away but it didn't work out. She was trembling under his palm, her breathing becoming a little ragged.

Peeta had picked up on the problem and filled her glass with water.

"But it is!" The girl sounded almost jubilant now, a hair short of hysteria. She was locked in an episode of her own. "It's her fault. Everything! She reaped Prim. If she hadn't… And now she comes here like everything's fine and she's our best friend… She shows up at your house like you're expected to wait on her or some shit! You hate each other! You hate her!"

"You shut up!" he spat, squeezing Effie's nape again. Her breathing was too fast now and he sat back down so he wasn't looming over her, taking the glass of water from Peeta before placing it back down because it was too late for that now.

"You hate her!" Katniss repeated, her voice rising to a shout. "You hate her! She killed Prim! She…"

She finally burst into tears when Peeta hugged her, shushing her with soft whispers in her ear.

He glanced at the kids but once he was sure the boy had that situation in hands, he turned back to Effie.

"I don't hate you." he reminded her. "And you didn't kill anyone. Effie, sweetheart… You're in Twelve, yeah? You're fine. You're safe. Just breathe for me."

Her whole frame was shaking now and, after a moment of hesitation, he grabbed her chair and turned it toward him so they were facing each other. Her eyes were glassy and he wasn't sure she was even aware of her surroundings. He slipped one hand in hers, entwined their fingers, and cupped her cheek with his free one.

"Princess, I need you to breathe." he said, catching the silent tears rolling down her cheeks with his thumb. "It's alright. You're good. I've got you. I've got you. You know I won't let anything happen to you, yeah? You're safe with me. Come on, sweetheart."

He kept talking because it seemed to be working. Slowly, her gaze became a little more focused and while her breathing still came out in uneven raspy huffs and pants, she also seemed a little more conscious. When he deemed it safe, he handed her the glass of water, helping her drink from it but holding it back when she tried to gulp it down.

"Easy. You're gonna make yourself sick." he chided in a soft voice. "You're good to walk? I'm taking you home."

"Home." she repeated, her voice rough. She started laughing like it was the best joke she had ever heard and it was all bitter and twisted.

"Yeah." he countered firmly, helping her to her feet by pulling on her arm. "Home."

Katniss was still crying but Peeta nodded at him over her shoulder, combing his fingers through her long black hair soothingly. Satisfied that the boy was okay, he helped Effie to the front door, bundled her in her coat – a frayed coat that would need to be replaced if she was staying through winter – and wrapped his arm around her waist to support her because she wasn't that steady on her feet.

"That happened before?" he asked, once they were on their way to his house, already soaked from the downpour. He should have grabbed an umbrella. "Panic attacks?"

For a while, he wasn't sure she would even answer. She burrowed a little more into his side and he didn't think it was because she was cold. She felt so tiny against him, so fragile…

"A few times." she confessed.

"A few times once or twice or a few times very often?" he insisted knowingly.

"I should not have come here." was her only answer.

"Where else were you going to go?" he scoffed, ushering her inside the shelter of his house.

It took a while to shed the wet coats and shoes but, soon enough, he had her on the couch next to the roaring fire with a mug of her favorite strawberry tea cradled in her hands. She startled when he crouched in front of her and placed his hands on her knees but she didn't protest.

"Listen to me." He sounded serious to his ears, a little awkward too maybe. "You're welcome here, yeah? You're welcome to stay. As long as you need. As long as you want."

"Haymitch…" she argued.

"No, listen." he cut her off. "What happened to you was my fault…"

"No, it was not." She shook her head. "Plutarch explained…"

"If I hadn't been fucking you, they wouldn't have touched you." he interrupted. "You know that. Makes it my fault."

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the couch's cushions. His knees were starting to hurt from the crouching but he didn't move yet.

"If I had not loved you they would have left me alone sooner." she replied. "If it was anyone's fault…"

"No." He squeezed her legs. "Don't think like that. Don't blame yourself."

"Why not?" she snorted, licking her lips. "Katniss clearly does."

"Katniss was upset about something else and she took it out on you." he denied. "She didn't mean any of it."

Effie's tired blue eyes met his. "I think she did, actually. Perhaps it would be better if… I should not have come here. It was rude of me to impose where I am not wanted. I should go."

"I want you." he objected, finally moving to sit next to her on the couch. "And you don't need to… We've all got our scars, sweetheart. Peeta's still have episodes. Katniss… Guess you saw tonight. Comes out now and then. And I've got my drinking… We've all got our bad days. You don't need to hide yours, yeah? We can help. I can help."

She watched him for a long time and then placed the mug down to curl up against him.

"I am so tired…" she whispered.

"Then, go to sleep." He hesitated for a second and then started toying with her hair like he used to after sex. It had always lulled her to sleep – lulled both of them to sleep, truth be told.

She shook her head against his chest. "The nightmares…"

"I'll be right here if you have one." he promised. "I know it's scary but…"

"It is better with you here." she admitted. "You make me feel safe."

The statement made his heart swell.

He dropped a kiss on the crown of her head. "Go to sleep, Princess."

She fell asleep clutching his shirt and he tightened his arms around her, vowing to keep her safe this time around.