Haymitch glanced out the train window, watching as the sun crested over the horizon. He was, very unhappily mind you, on the way to the Capitol. The few remaining Victors had been invited to a memorial service commemorating the efforts and losses of the War. Word was that Plutarch had hatched the idea and suggested it to President Paylor as a way to honor the courage and sacrifice of those both alive and dead. Personally, Haymitch thought it was just a way for Plutarch to get the Victors together in front of a camera again. It would certainly make for great television.
Peeta had to almost physically force Haymitch and Katniss onto the train after both had put up quite a fight when they received the invitation. They had initially refused, determined to leave the past behind.
'I'm not going, there's no way', Katniss had said while Haymitch simply ripped the invitation in half and threw it into the fireplace.
For the last two years they had fought to erase the memories of the Hunger Games, of Snow, of the Rebellion, of the thousands of lives lost… it wasn't until Peeta laid on a thick layer of guilt that they conceded. Not to mention his constant antagonizing on the matter had been exhausting to endure.
"What would it look like if we didn't attend? If the Mockingjay didn't show up? What would Annie think if it looked like we didn't care about what happened to Finnick? Or Cinna? Or Portia? Or Boggs, Wiress, Mags, or…" he had the decency to gently lower his voice, "…or even Prim?"
The list was endless.
"Plus, we'll get to see Effie," Peeta had added, with a pointed look at Haymitch.
The guilt-trip may have worked on Katniss, but it was that last addition that begrudgingly convinced Haymitch. Not that he would ever admit it.
Effie.
He hadn't seen or spoken to her in the two years since they said goodbye after the Rebellion. So here he was, present day, watching the sun rise and heading toward what was once the Capitol with a drink in his hand.
It reminded him of the Games.
Somehow, Haymitch managed to survive the memorial service thanks to the small flask he kept tucked away in his jacket. He tuned most of it out, digging a hole into the floor with his constant unwavering stare. He couldn't stand to think about the people they had lost during the War; he thought about them enough in his nightmares.
Mercifully, there was a gathering that followed the service which included both food and alcohol. Katniss and Peeta were in the distance catching up with Johanna while Haymitch tried desperately to avoid as much meaningless conversation as possible. He was content to sip his alcohol and people watch for the entirety of the evening. The reminders of the War that he had so desperately tried to forget surrounded him, and Peeta was lucky he hadn't bolted for the train the moment the service was over.
He heard her before he saw her, per usual. She always made her presence in a room known. She was wearing a flowing light purple dress which was likely the most modest piece of clothing he had ever seen her in. Her short wavy hair was her natural blonde with, shockingly enough, not a wig in sight. Her makeup even seemed appropriate for the evening- apparent, but not overwhelmingly so. She was more toned down than he had ever seen her, and yet she still would have stood out from the crowd in District 12.
She had certainly caught Haymitch's attention.
She turned his way as if she felt his eyes upon her, and a bright smile lit her face immediately. She quickly yet politely excused herself from her conversation. He took this as his cue and stood from his barstool, gracing her with his classic smirk.
It was when she turned toward him that he noticed it.
A bump. And not a small one.
Haymitch felt his jaw go slack and he couldn't have hidden his surprise even if he had tried. Suddenly she was there, wrapping him in a tight hug. He had waited for this moment for so long, yearned to be this close to her again, but his brain wasn't firing.
His arms stayed at his side until she let go and stepped back, her hands lingering on his, squeezing tightly.
"Effie…"
She smiled, "I missed you, Haymitch. How are you?"
He stared at her stomach.
"Well I certainly see your manners haven't improved an ounce. Don't you know it's rude to stare?" she said teasingly with a giggle.
He swallowed, unsure of how to respond to this sudden and unexpected news. His brain attempted to register what he was feeling. Shock, certainly, but also confusion and… anger?
His brow furrowed. She was pregnant.
"Haymitch?"
"You're pregnant."
"Yes, I am," she said, unsure as to why he suddenly seemed agitated. She was genuinely happy to see him and unsurprised by his obvious shock when he saw her growing belly, but now he was, what, angry?
A voice shouted from nearby, "Effie!"
Peeta was hurrying toward them and was quick to swallow Effie in a big hug. He pulled back when he felt her stomach pushing against him and immediately launched excitedly into conversation about her obvious pregnancy. Always a charmer; he was so easy to like. Katniss wasn't far behind, but she kept a curious eye on Haymitch, who was clenching his jaw and seemed more irritated than usual while listening to Peeta prattle on about the baby.
Thankful for the opportunity to escape, Haymitch turned and made a beeline for the bar. There he stayed for the next couple of hours, nursing his drink. The gathering continued on around him, and he watched as the patrons became looser as the alcohol flowed. It was quickly becoming more of a party than a respectful and somber gathering.
Someone sat on the barstool beside him. He looked up and rolled his eyes.
"What's your problem?" she asked, now irritated with him.
He ignored her.
"Seriously, Haymitch," she said in a way that confirmed his suspicion that he wasn't going to escape this conversation.
"I don't have a problem," he said into his glass, avoiding her gaze.
"Well obviously you do."
He turned to her, "You know, this stand-up-to-Haymitch thing may have been a turn-on in the past but it's not so flattering anymore."
She paused, slightly taken aback by his frankness, but waited for him to continue.
He turned back to the bar, "Not really in the mood for talking."
"Obviously. Well that's too bad because I've waited two years to see you and your grumpiness isn't going to ruin it."
He gripped his glass. Waited two years… judging by the size of her stomach she hadn't been waiting on anything.
She sighed, intent on turning this into a pleasant conversation. She was willing to ignore his curtness to attempt to have a semi-decent conversation with him, "Well? What have you been doing for two years?"
He answered sharply, "Oh you know, just playing pseudo dad to two teenagers. You?"
"Pseudo dad, hm? You don't strike me as the type."
He continued, lacing his voice with as much bitterness as he could manage, "Yeah, well, I was supposed to have help but she ran off and got pregnant so… gotta do what you gotta do I guess." He gave her stomach an offended look.
Her eyes narrowed, "Seriously, Haymitch?"
He remained quiet, hoping his words had offended her as much as he had intended.
She lowered her voice, clenching her jaw and doing all she could not to shout at him, "What is your problem? Why are you so upset?"
"Why do you think?" he spat.
"I don't know!" she looked around, hoping she hadn't attracted any attention and lowered her voice again, "I don't know. I thought we left on good terms."
"We did. Then you never showed back up."
"Never showed back up? I had a life to rebuild, Haymitch. What did you expect?"
"What happened to being a team?" he asked, referencing the gold theme Effie had insisted on for the Quarter Quell.
'A token… to show them we're a team. That they can't just-'
"Guess that meant nothing to you once the Games were over."
She sighed, "Haymitch…"
"Save it."
He got up, slammed a few bills on the bar, and left.
The noise of the party died behind him as he made his way to the train station. Katniss and Peeta would catch up later. He needed to get out of there. Away from her. Away from the Games. Away from everything he wanted to forget. He cursed Peeta for dragging him here in the first place.
Except she found him, later. Like she always did. He looked up when he heard the train door swing open.
"Are you kidding me?"
She stepped inside, "Absolutely not. I told you I have waited two years to see you and won't allow you to ruin it."
He shook his head, "You are unbelievable."
"Thank you."
"Not a compliment."
"I'll take it as one nonetheless," she said stubbornly as she made her way to him and sat in the chair across from his.
"Alright, let's hear it," she said.
"Hear what? I've said what I had to say."
"No, you didn't. You ran away like you always do when you're upset. Tell me, I want to hear it."
He stared at her heatedly while his jaw clenched. Insufferable woman, same as always.
"You left," he simply said.
"I went back home."
"To the Capitol."
"Yes."
A pause. He looked down to avoid her eyes and said quietly, "I asked you to come home with us."
"To District 12."
"Yes."
"Haymitch," she sighed, the anger in the room slightly dissipating now that they were talking, "Do you really think I'd ever be welcomed in 12?"
Silence.
"I was the Capitol, who showed up once a year to take their children off to be murdered. They would never accept me there."
More silence.
"You know it's true."
He leaned forward onto his elbows, staring unhappily at the carpet.
"You said we were a team," he said, not raising his head.
"I know… and I meant it, but I couldn't go home with you. I just couldn't."
His fists clenched, "You abandoned those kids, Effie."
And me.
She flinched, tears immediately fogging her vision, "Don't say that."
"I'm saying the truth."
They sat quietly while his words echoed in the room, banging loudly in her mind.
You abandoned those kids.
"You left us behind and left me to pick up the pieces. Alone." He felt his anger and voice rising again, "We were a team. It was our responsibility to take care of those kids!" He was shouting.
"Haymitch," she stood suddenly and turned away from him, barely forcing herself to stay on the train. Wanting nothing more than to escape back to the party, away from all of this. Away from the truth that had silently gnawed at her for the past two years.
He looked at her rounded stomach, his muscles relaxing as his anger was replaced by longing…
"I wanted you to come with us…" he said quietly, avoiding her gaze.
She looked at him, "Well you should have said so."
A pause.
"Goodbye, Haymitch."
He let her leave.
Again.