Prompt: please could you fuck me up and write something where in 13 haymitch somehow is only told what katniss is told, that Effie was temporarily held in a Capitol prison, so he goes to visit her in the hospital when he can after she's found and he's faced with what a mess she actually is?

Kicking & Screaming

Haymitch was slowly but steadily being downgraded to a simple soldier.

During the largest part of the war and the taking of the Capitol, he had been part of the rebellion's brain, an essential cog in the machine, soldiers had been at his beck and call, and when he had given an order it had been executed without hesitation. A full day after the Capitol had surrendered, it wasn't the same. He had outlived his usefulness, he could see it clearly. Nobody wanted to listen to him anymore and when they did it was with impatient looks on their faces.

His priorities didn't match with Thirteen's.

Coin wanted the whole country under control and the District citizens firmly on her side. Curbing the bloodthirsty tendencies of the rebels – the ones that were in independent District groups and thus who had not been indoctrinated since birth to be good little soldiers – didn't rank high on her list of things to do. Apartments, houses and shops were being looted, anything deemed too Games associated was being put on fire; every time they caught someone they thought was a Gamemaker, an escort or a stylist, there was a dead body strung up somewhere on a streetlamp or beaten to death in the gutter – and it was never a Gamemaker, an escort or a stylist, just lookalikes, because those people were already in their custody, most of them anyway, because they had seen the odds and surrendered along with Snow when they hadn't simply committed suicide. It was madness and Haymitch wanted it brought to heel.

The only one who seemed to understand and tried to help was Plutarch but Haymitch had his own problems with Plutarch right then.

Hummingbird Operation.

The secret weapon that had killed hundreds of children. And Prim. And almost did Katniss in.

"Haymitch." Plutarch called from across the room in the Presidential Mansion that served as Command, a phone wedged between his cheek and his shoulder. He crossed the room because it was clear the Head Gamemaker wouldn't come to him but he did it lazily because he couldn't really stand Plutarch right then. "I've got a memo here saying Effie Trinket's been found." the Capitol said, waving at a pile of papers in disarray on a table. "She was arrested when the arena exploded as we suspected. She's in the Mansion's hospital." Suddenly his attention was directed at the phone again. "Yes, I'm still here. The problem is we need the supply lines restored at once."

"Why is she in the hospital?" Haymitch frowned, refusing to be so easily dismissed.

Plutarch shrugged. "It's standard for people who were on our lists, she's probably alright. I told you they had no reason to touch her. No, you don't seem to understand…"

Haymitch rolled his eyes and moved away since it was obvious he wouldn't get any more information through the Head Gamemaker. He was too busy with his phone call.

Effie was most definitely fine, he decided. Knowing her, she had probably dazzled whatever guards they had appointed to her – and her cell had probably been luxurious compared to others – and she had spent the whole war drinking cocktails and getting her nails done.

Still he was relieved she had been found. Plutarch had kept telling him she would be alright but the fact that she was nowhere for the rebels to find… Johanna had refused to say anything when he had asked her about his escort, Peeta had been in no state to help, and it was hard getting anything out of Annie on a good day. He had been worried about her. He had hidden it from the girl, downplayed it for the others, spent numerous sleepless nights rubbing his eyes and thinking about what she was doing at that moment… He had missed her like crazy and while it was difficult to admit, with sobriety came new awareness and he couldn't really deny he had feelings that weren't of the friendly – or enmity – variety.

He wanted to see her.

He wanted to see her so much his heart was clenching painfully in his chest.

He wanted to hold her and bury his face in her neck, smell the comforting scent of her peach shampoo…

The Mansion's hospital was only a few minutes away, in another wing of the huge building, so he edged toward the door but, of course, it was when he wanted some time to himself that people remembered he existed. Suddenly, he was the only man for the job. He was dragged back into the room, given a phone and had to negotiate with a rebel leader in District Ten who trusted neither Thirteen nor the city and didn't see why he had to send more food the Capitol's way. Haymitch wasn't part of Thirteen's army, he was a known victor and he was good at bargaining, apparently that made him the best choice.

The guy in Ten sure could bargain though.

It took him half an hour to secure a deal and get the supply lines working again.

Half an hour before he could make an escape.

He went to check on Katniss first because Effie was alright, Katniss wasn't and he knew she would want to know the latest news on the children. The girl was in that weird tank, floating in that thick liquid, losing entire patches of skin… Aster was nowhere in sight but Hawthorne stood in a corner of the room, leaning against the wall, looking around one-hundred year-old.

"Mrs Everdeen went to get some coffee." the boy said, his voice hoarse and tired. "I didn't want her to be alone."

He didn't care much for Gale Hawthorne but he cared for Hazelle and so he felt compelled to stare at him pointedly. "When was the last time you slept?" The boy didn't even have a clever retort. He just shrugged, a whole body shrug, and Haymitch sighed. "Go to bed, kid. I'm gonna stay until she comes back."

A few minutes wouldn't make a difference now and he could use the time thinking about what he was going to say to Effie anyway. She was bound to be pissed. She shouldn't have been left behind. Despite Plutarch's claims that she would be safer in the city, he had insisted on her being moved to Thirteen. That plan had gone south and she had been arrested. All the escorts had been on lockdown in safe locations after the Quell. From what he had understood, they had kept most of them in custody in the Center itself. Yeah… She was probably going to be pissed… He had lied, by omission and directly, he had failed to save Peeta at first, he had failed Prim and Katniss, he had failed Finnick… The kids were all hurt, some of them perhaps beyond repairs… It was a lot to account for and, he mused, maybe he should try to find some flowers to soften the blow…

By the time Aster came back with reddish eyes and some coffee in a tiny paper cup, he was yearning for a drink.

He spent a few more minutes with her, purely to waste time, delay the inevitable fight he would have with Effie…

Then he went in search of his escort's hospital room and got turned around. It occurred to him he had taken so long to come find her that they might have assigned her a room somewhere in the Mansion in the meantime. In the end, he stopped a nurse in the corridor and asked her about Effie's whereabouts. The nurse checked something on her tablet and then directed him to one of the doctors. When he asked why, she said it was protocol before allowing visitors to see a new patient.

It took him fifteen minutes to track the right doctor down. The man looked exhausted. White hair in disarray, blue scrubs stained in places with what was clearly blood, walking ahead without looking where he was going, engrossed in reviewing whatever was written on his own tablet… Haymitch had seen him one time or two in Thirteen. He was one of the doctors who had taken care of Johanna and Katniss. They must have brought him to the Capitol to see to the injured.

The man was top-notch. The only reason he wasn't Katniss' main doctor right now was because there were actual specialists for burn victims in the city.

His stomach did an unpleasant flip. Was he simply in charge of the whole medical floor or did Effie need a top-notch doctor?

"Hi." he said, interrupting Doctor Cardmund's reading.

The man gave him one look over the edge of his tablet, an assessing look for injuries Haymitch realized, and then stared back at his screen. "Walk with me."

Haymitch fell into step with him, not quite liking the authoritative tone but also understanding not everyone was up to power plays and the man had probably been up for more than twenty-four hours helping injured soldiers. The doctor didn't have any time to lose.

"Look, I'm sorry to bother you. I want to see my friend but the nurse said I had to clear it with you first." he explained. "Protocol or whatever."

"I'm not Miss Everdeen's doctor." the man declared. "You need to find…"

"Not Katniss. Effie. Effie Trinket." he clarified.

That made the man look up from his tablet again and stopped the quick stride down the corridors.

That was never good, Haymitch mused, when a man in a hurry stopped to pay you attention with that sorry look on his face.

"I was told she's alright." he said quickly. Because maybe the doctor was confusing her with someone else. Maybe he had seen so many patients…

"If by alright you mean still breathing." the man scoffed, quickly tapping something on his tablet. Getting Effie's file. "Actually, it's good you came. I need someone high ranking to confirm her status for me. Is she a prisoner or…

"Ally." he cut him off. "She's an ally. It should have been specified on arrival."

The doctor shook his head. "It wasn't but it's a good thing you've come. Prisoners aren't being treated right now, we don't have enough resources and I'm told they aren't a priority. She needs immediate medical attention."

"What's wrong with her?" he asked. Something was wrong with him. He felt light headed, dizzy… His heart was missing beats and running faster to catch up…

"Do you know if she has any family?" the doctor asked, not unkindly. "I know who the two of you are, of course, but I'm afraid we've never followed the Games that closely in Thirteen. Does she have a husband? Children? Parents? I need a next of kin."

Her family.

He would need to have her family located. She would want to know and it had completely skipped his mind. Her sister had sons, too. Oh fuck her sister had children. He needed to get his hands on the lists of indentified victims of the City Bombing.

"I'm her next of kin." he lied. "I'm her…" He wasn't sure what he was. He had never really been sure. "I'm all she has right now." And she had been taking decisions for him for thirteen years when he couldn't do it for himself so he would return the favor. "Why can't she… She ain't awake?"

If they needed a next of kin…

"She has woken up a few times but she doesn't seem to be aware of her surroundings." the doctor said in a tone that implied it was a nice understatement. "We chose to keep her sedated for now. She is also restrained for her own good. She was… extremely agitated and could have hurt herself and our medical staff."

Haymitch swallowed hard. He didn't like the sound of all of that. "What's wrong with her?"

The doctor cleared his throat and checked the file on his tablet. "The worst danger right now is the dehydration. We had her on a drip at first but, as I told you, we don't have enough resources and since her status was unclear we had to…"

"Get her back on it." he growled. "She ain't a fucking prisoner. She's my bloody…"

Again he stopped short.

The word he wanted to call her, he wasn't allowed to use.

She wasn't his wife.

She was…

She was something huge that outgrew definitions and labels.

"She is severely dehydrated." the doctor repeated. "Some of her wounds are inflamed but they all seemed to have scared and healed by themselves which is sort of miraculous if you ask me. She was very dirty when she came in and I feared there would be a gangrene risk… We should keep an attentive watch because an infection is still possible but I don't foresee any serious potential problems with the wounds."

Wounds.

What kind of wounds? He wanted to ask but didn't. He had a good enough idea. Whips, knives, fists…

Johanna's eyes had been so accusatory when he had asked about Effie…

"She has an important bladder infection." the man kept on. "The cell she was in… You might want to read the report on that place. Aside from all of that, the most concerning to me remains her shoulder. It was dislocated and it remained out of its socket for too long before it was pulled back in… We didn't do any scan or test but I suspect unless she has immediate reparative surgery she will never be able to use that arm without pain again. Even with surgery, it's unlikely she will regain a normal range of motion."

Haymitch wanted to throw up.

She would be alright, Plutarch had sworn again and again. No reason to worry. Effie was the Capitol poster child. Effie was…

"And, of course, her mental state is…" the man finished with a wince. "To be plain, the mind has its own way of protecting itself. I'm not sure she's in control of her body right now. I think she's locked away deep within herself. She is scared and in pain and…"

"I want to see her." he interrupted, running a shaking hand over his face. "Do whatever you need to do. Everything you need to do. She's on my list. She's got VIP status. She… She gets everything you have, you hear me? But first I want to see her. Please."

The doctor nodded.

Haymitch was barely aware of being handed off to a passing nurse and led down more twisting corridors to a sterile hospital room that looked a lot like Katniss' minus the tank. He didn't really see what else was there aside for the bed.

Effie looked terrifyingly small.

She was pale, her blond hair was brown with dirt and looked tangled beyond repair, there were fading bruises on her arms and vicious looking reddish scars… Her left arm was strapped to her chest in a sling, her other wrist and ankles were strapped to the bed with padded restraints…

He almost fell to his knees next to the bed.

"I'm sorry…" he whispered. "I'm sorry. I didn't know… I'd have come for you… Fuck, I'd have burned the whole city for you… I didn't know… Effie…"

She didn't open her eyes.

She was sedated, he remembered, and maybe that was for the best because he wasn't sure he was ready to see her blue eyes stare at him without any spark of recognition in them.

"Sweetheart…" he breathed out, leaning in to brush his lips against her chapped ones. "I'm right here… I'm right here now…" He gently cupped her cheek, hoping against all hopes she could somehow feel it, that it would help make her less scared. "Won't leave you again… I've got you. You hear me, Princess? I've got you…"

Too little too late maybe…

But he would never make the mistake of trusting someone else with her safety again.

They would have to drag him away from her bedside kicking and screaming.