Prompt: Okay so my prompt is: you know how movie!Snow loved to mentally torture Katniss with looks, speeches or just plain nodding no to her when she failed to "prove" him something. Could you write something similar with Hayffie during the quell? Maybe like this is reason why Haymitch so insistently decided Effie had to come to 13 because of some party they went where Snow showed how he wasn't convinced his thing with Effie was just sex anymore, maybe has never been.
A Severe Case Of Allergy
"I trust you are enjoying the party, Haymitch."
One word from his voice and the sponsors Haymitch had been painfully making small talk with scattered. Well, maybe it wasn't the voice as much as the dismissing look Panem's President had tossed them.
Haymitch turned to face the man he hated more than anyone else in this fucking country and made an effort not to glare. As it was, he was holding his flute of champagne so tight it was a wonder it hadn't yet shattered.
Corionalus Snow looked the same as ever, crimson handkerchief in his jacket pocket, serene expression on his face, slightly mocking look in his eyes…
Haymitch was tempted, oh so tempted, to break the flute and stab him in the neck with the sharp shards. But the Peacekeepers discretely stationed around the ballroom would shoot him before he even made the first move. It was a losing game with Snow. Always a losing game.
"I've been to worse." he deadpanned, his voice tight.
The ball at the Presidential Mansion was always the high of the Tour and, as usual, they had gone all out. He couldn't complain about the party. The party was going as well as expected with the kids making a show of their lacking dance skills while Effie watched them without seeming to from the edge of the dance floor. She regularly steered them toward the right people to talk to and made sure they stayed clear of the sponsors they really didn't want them to meet.
Meanwhile he was… meeting people. The ones Cinna introduced him to.
Right under Snow's eyes.
Which might have not been the best idea on retrospect.
"What a lovely couple they make…" the President commented, following his gaze that had immediately snapped back to the kids. He was half-expecting something to happen, one of them to drop dead or… "It is regrettable the girl cannot be trusted to perform adequately. I quite like her, in truth."
His whole body went cold and he swallowed hard. "She's gonna stay in line. She gets it."
"I know she does but she is too unpredictable." Snow replied, matter-of-fact and slightly regretful. "I thought about curbing her wild instincts the same way we did with you but that would only make her more dangerous." The President was speaking about this so casually… Haymitch turned his head so fast it gave him whiplash. Fury and worry battled within him because… "Of course, that sort of lesson is only valuable for a limited period of time anyway. People grieve, people forget… It took you longer than most to find someone else who would suffer the consequences of your actions…"
"You can't hurt the kids." he countered immediately. "I'll… I'll keep them under control. I'll make sure…"
The look Snow gave him was almost pitying. All for show. Haymitch saw the gleeful smugness behind the façade.
"Your escort is lovely tonight, isn't she?" the man hummed, his lips twitching into a predatory smile. "I thought long and hard about how to remind you where you belong, Haymitch, to whom you belong… With Miss Everdeen, it was quite easy, of course, threaten her family and she falls in line until she eventually forgets herself and makes another mistake… It will do for now. Mr Mellark… The boy will not be a problem, I believe, he is smarter than that." The President was wrong there, Haymitch thought, Peeta was the most unpredictable of the three of them. The boy was self-righteous and that was dangerous. "But you… Threats will not work. You only understand once the sentence has been carried out. I considered having her entertain some of our most… particular sponsors…"
For a second he thought Snow was still talking about Katniss but then he realized… The President wasn't watching the kids anymore, he was watching…
Effie wasn't as oblivious to the sudden scrutiny as she made it look. She accepted the flute of champagne one of the Gamemakers handed her with a strained smile.
"Look…" he growled, swallowing hard.
"Hardwell is always eager to put his hands on pretty little things." Snow continued, taking a sip of his champagne. Haymitch froze. Hardwell was the worst sponsor to be sold to. Everyone knew it. The man was into things that would scare anyone for good. Crane had banned him from renting anyone's services years earlier. The President continued, unperturbed. "However, she is resilient. She would bounce back too quickly and, while you would hate yourself over what was done to her, you would also reason that as long as you are both alive, it is worth the sacrifice. No, sex and violence are all well and good but they would not work on you. There is a method that has proved itself before, though, and she is old anyway… It is not like it would be such a hardship to replace her…"
"I don't care about her." he spat quickly. "She's just… It's just sex."
He got that pitying look again for his trouble.
"Oh, Haymitch… Please, let's not lie to each other…" Snow chuckled. "I would hurry to her if I were you. And, please, get her out of the ballroom, I do not want the party ruined with that kind of spectacle. Do give her my best."
Haymitch didn't see him leave to mingle with another group of people because he caught it in the corner of his eye: Effie swayed and clearly made an excuse, handing the half-empty flute of champagne back to the Gamemaker she was talking to, before slowly walking toward the glass door that led to the balcony… The Gamemaker looked at her and… Fuck, did he look guilty?
Haymitch dashed after her as quickly as he dared, discarding his own flute of champagne on the tray of a passing waiter. He burst outside to find her leaning against the stone balustrade that overlooked the gardens. There were so many people down there, the music was so loud, flashing colorful beams of lights darted in every directions…
"Effie." he called, concerned.
She turned around, relief washing on her face when she spotted him. "Oh, Haymitch! I do not feel so…"
He barely had time to catch her before her legs gave in. He lowered her to the floor slowly, panic making his heart race inside his chest.
He knew what was happening.
He knew what was happening but he refused to believe it.
She had drunk the champagne the Gamemaker had handed her. She had drunk it and now Snow's veiled threats made sense and…
"I need to get you to a doctor." he muttered, slipping his arm under her knees.
"Haymitch, what's happening?" she whispered, burying her face in his shoulder. Her hand clutched the thick fabric of his jacket… "I'm… I'm so dizzy. I'm… Oh…"
She started seizing and he almost dropped her. He had to put her back down on the floor, roll her to her side and he tried to still her body but… Her eyes rolled back in her head, drool slipped past her blue painted lips…
"Effie!" he shouted. "Effie!"
He glanced back over his shoulder to the closed doors… If he rushed inside, if he shouted for a doctor… But wouldn't have Snow accounted for that? There was no way anyone would help if…
The seizing stopped and he searched for a pulse, his own heart stopping in his chest. If she was dead, if…
But there was a pulse still, weak but there. Her head rolled to the side and he gently wiped her mouth, not quite sure what to do.
The Games Clinic.
The Games Clinic was close by and maybe Snow wouldn't have ordered anyone there not to help…
Without hesitating further, he gathered her in his arms again and ran out of there, barely aware that there were gasps on his wake, barely aware that Snow's voice rose over the chaos to joke about his escort having indulged too much… The kids were on the other side of the room, hopefully they wouldn't hear about it before…
The Presidential Mansion wasn't far from the Center but Haymitch wasn't exactly in shape. He had never had any problem carrying her from the penthouse's living-room to either of their bedrooms but, right then, he was starting to think she was heavy – although he was not going to tell her that if he managed to…
He passed in front of several Peacekeepers that made no move to help.
The elevator trip to the Clinic took so long he… But she was breathing. She was breathing. He could feel it against his neck, short wheezy puffs…
He barged into the Clinic, calling for help… The same old doctor that had been in post there for decades came running from out back.
"What happened?" he asked, as Haymitch carefully placed her down on a stretcher. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open, and she looked… She looked…
"I think she was poisoned." he blurted out.
And the doctor froze. "What?"
Haymitch's brain caught up a second too late. Poison was a signature in this city and nobody would…
"Allergies." he corrected himself. "I think she drank something… wrong. She had a seizure and… And she drooled… And her breathing is all…"
The doctor didn't look convinced but he took her out back and barked at Haymitch to stay where he was. He dropped on one of the armchairs in the waiting area and grabbed his head between his hands, not so subtly lowering it until it was between his knees. He stayed like that until he didn't feel like puking anymore.
He was slowly sitting up when Cinna showed up, looking like he had aged ten years. "How is she?"
He shook his head. "Don't know. The kids?"
"We took them back to the penthouse." the stylist said. "Portia is with them. We told them Effie wasn't feeling well and you walked her back home. They don't suspect anything is wrong, we're in the clear."
Unless Effie died because there would be no hiding that…
"What happened?" Cinna insisted, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I saw you talking to Snow…"
Haymitch shrugged him off, irritated. "A message." He shook his head. "We'll talk about that later."
But they would talk about it because once Effie was recovered – she couldn't die, she couldn't die, he refused to even think about it because he would… he… he couldn't… - he would need to start making arrangements. There was no way he was leaving her behind. The plan to get Katniss out – and the rest of them by extension – was still in the work, it wouldn't happen anytime soon, but there was no way he was leaving Effie behind. No way.
Cinna nodded his understanding and made to sit in the other chair…
"Go back to the penthouse." he demanded before the stylist's butt could connect with the seat. "I don't need you here and I want someone with the kids."
"Portia…" the man started to argue.
"I want someone who can fight with the kids." he clarified in a low growl, looking up at the man. "I'm assuming you've got hidden talents."
Cinna tilted his head to the side. "Not really but… I'll do my best if it comes to that. Are you sure…"
"Yeah." he cut him off.
He didn't watch him leave.
It was hours before the doctor came back out, looking tired.
"She's fine." the Capitol doctor said before Haymitch could ask. "I'm keeping her in observation for a few hours. You can bring her back to Twelve's floor at noon if she's feeling up to it."
It was like a weight had been lifted from his chest, as if he could breathe easy again… As if…
"What..." he started but the doctor lifted a hand to cut him off.
"She had a severe allergic reaction." the man explained, sounding just sarcastic enough that Haymitch got the gist. "She was lucky. Someone from the Presidential Mansion called. He was concerned she had accidentally ingested peanut oil."
"She's allergic to peanuts…" he murmured, more to himself.
"Everyone is allergic to that particular brand of peanuts." the doctor retorted, shaking his head. "Still… You have someone to thank in the Mansion."
Was it Plutarch Heavensbee? Or did it come from Snow himself? Had the whole thing been a simple warning of what would happen if he stepped out of line?
"I wanna see her." he demanded.
The doctor reluctantly nodded. "She's resting. Don't disturb her. The best thing for her right now is to sleep it off. I had to pump her stomach, you'd know how fun that is…"
He made a face. He had had his stomach pumped quite a few times over the years when he had drunk himself too close to a ethylic coma.
The doctor led him to a room but left him at the door so he was alone when he stepped in only to find the white rose in a vase next to the bed. There was no card but he didn't need one to get the message.
It was Snow after all. Snow was allowing him to keep her a little longer. To better illustrate just how quickly he could take her away again…
He crumpled the rose in his fist despite the thorns that dug deep in his flesh and tossed it out through the window.
They had cleaned Effie up, no more wig or make-up, and she looked far too small and pale lost in that hospital bed. He brushed her blond hair away from her face and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.
Her eyelids fluttered open. "Haymitch?"
Her voice was hoarse and he kissed her again just because…
Fuck, he had thought he had lost her.
For a moment there…
"I'm here." he promised in a soft tone. "Go to sleep."
"What happened?" she insisted, fighting to keep her eyes open. "I feel weird."
He swallowed hard and gently petted her hair. "You accidentally had peanuts."
She wrinkled her nose… "No, I didn't… The champagne… The champagne was…"
"Go to sleep, sweetheart." he interrupted. "That's a worry for tomorrow, okay?"
Her eyelids drooped. "You stay?"
"Always." he vowed before he could stop himself.
She had a ghost of a smile on her lips when she finally drifted to sleep again…