We Didn't Start The Fire
by FanficAllergy & RoseFyre
oOo
Chapter Fifteen: I See Right Through to You
oOo
Last Time in We Didn't Start The Fire:
Coin tilts her head, regarding the man through narrowed eyes. "Who better to be a spy than someone placed highly within my inner circle?"
"But how are you going to go about finding a spy?" a technician asks.
A predatory smile forms on President Coin's lips. "That would be telling."
oOo
The atmosphere in Thirteen changes almost overnight. Where transients had previously been welcomed with open arms and minimal fuss, now every non-native Thirteen person, other than our group from Twelve, is having their history vetted with a fine-toothed comb.
Cressida and her group apparently check out fairly quickly. Their bonafides were vouched for by someone who Coin trusts. But Thorn, the former Peacekeeper who came with them, isn't as lucky. She's deported to who knows where along with anyone else unfortunate enough not to have a rock-solid background check.
It's a witch hunt.
And instead of focusing on the Capitol and the rebellion, Coin is distracted by trying to find this would-be mole.
During one of our trips outside, we discuss it amongst ourselves. I broach the idea that there is no mole and that Snow only implied that there was in order to distract Coin from more pressing concerns. Both Katniss and Gale agree with me, but there's nothing we can do other than wait it out and hope that this hysteria dies down.
And, sadly, it doesn't look like that's going to happen anytime soon.
Throughout all of this, there's still a steady stream of new arrivals, mostly though not all from Six, but now they're being interrogated and detained in temporary camps far away from Thirteen proper. It's a huge waste of time and resources.
Two weeks pass, during which time we discover Dandelion and Marigold have been spayed to prevent any more surprise kittens. We're more annoyed that we didn't get informed of this until after it was a done deal than the fact that it occurred. We don't need more cats. Katniss would go crazy. Still, it would've been nice to know before it happened.
During this time, Katniss informs us that the doctors have cleared her to resume sexual relations. Honestly, making love is the farthest thing from our minds right now, but it's nice to know the option is there when and if we want it.
On July Fourth, we get word that there's an important pickup along one of the district borders. There's some excitement expressed by those people in the know, but because of the still rampant paranoia, no one's saying just who the defector is.
We get called to President Coin's office to discuss the new arrival. "I want you to be there when the hovercraft arrives. I don't want any mistakes and you three would be familiar with our new soldiers."
"So they're from Twelve?" Katniss guesses.
Coin refuses to answer. "I'm not at liberty to reveal that. I don't want to taint your identification of these two individuals." In Coin-speak, that's pretty much as good as saying yes, because honestly, why else would she want us there? Unless for some reason Finnick Odair or Caesar Flickerman steps out of the hovercraft, there's really no way of us verifying anyone's identity unless they're from Twelve.
We're escorted by Boggs up to the hangar bay to await the hovercraft's arrival. We don't have long to wait. It's only a few minutes before the craft sets down and the back hatch opens up.
Two figures step out and I have to stop myself from dropping my jaw in shock. They're both dressed in torn and dirty Capitol-made clothing and are carrying large packs of what I hope are supplies, although considering their identity, I could be mistaken.
The man sets down his pack with a loud clink while the woman gratefully plops hers down beside it.
"So, this is where you've been hiding," the man says, taking us in.
"Haymitch Abernathy and Effie Trinket?" Katniss is unable to keep herself from bursting out.
"In the flesh. So, kids," he says, pulling out a metal flask and taking a large swig. "Ya miss me?"
oOo
We accompany Haymitch Abernathy and Effie Trinket as they're escorted down to Medical to get the new transient medical checkup. Effie Trinket, as a former citizen of the Capitol, is quickly pronounced to be in perfect health, albeit a little underweight, and oddly devoid of many of the usual Capitol additions and enhancements.
Haymitch Abernathy, on the other hand, has the doctors clucking disapprovingly.
"Have you been trying to kill yourself?" Nurse Stephens asks bluntly, removing a blood pressure cuff.
"Yes," Haymitch replies just as bluntly.
"Well congratulations, you almost succeeded. Another year or two doing whatever you're doing and you'd've just keeled over one day."
"Aw, you're makin' me wish I hadn't left."
"Haymitch!" Effie exclaims.
"Sorry, Effs." His apology is strangely genuine.
"Just stop being so morbid!" she chides him. "You know I don't like thinking about death!" It's strange to see her without all of the Capitol makeup and her ever present wig. Apparently she has light blonde hair… who knew?
"That's really rich, coming from you," Gale says, crossing his arms.
The woman tilts her head like a confused puppy. "I beg your pardon?"
"You reek of death. Your hands are covered in it. Every tribute whose name you pulled from the bowl is on your head."
"You think I don't know that, Mr. Hawthorne?" she fires back. "And I would like you to know, not every tribute whose name I pulled from the bowl has died. In fact, I'm talking to one right now."
I'm unable to keep my laughter inside. She's got Gale dead to rights. Effie did call his name. But I'm unsurprised at my husband's rancor, and if Katniss were less shy, she'd be accusing Effie Trinket too.
"She ain't the only one with blood on their hands," Haymitch speaks up. "You wanna rail at someone, kid? Might as well rail at me."
Gale rounds on the older man. "Oh don't think I don't blame you too. You're a worthless stupid drunk who hasn't done a thing for anyone in twenty five years."
"Y'ain't tellin' me nothing I ain't thought of already." There's self-hatred in his tone. "Come on, sing me a new one, boy."
"Don't call me 'boy!'"
"I'll stop calling you boy, boy," Haymitch puts emphasis on the word, "when you stop actin' like a child and start thinkin' like a man."
"What do you mean by that?" Katniss asks, her voice wary.
"Ah. She speaks! Thought you was an avox there for a minute. Not the Voice of the Rebellion I hear you're supposed to be."
"Where'd you hear that?"
"I got ears, girl," he tells her. "And a radio. The name Everdeen ain't that common," he elaborates. Haymitch scratches one ear. "Though you could do with a little coachin'. Got the personality of a dead slug when y'ain't singin' or speakin' from the heart. And without that gal of Wexler's, you'd be dead in the water."
Katniss shrugs and parrots back, "Tell me something I don't know," turning Haymitch's words against him.
He smirks and nods his head at her approvingly.
"So why'd you come here?" I ask, stepping in for the first time.
"That's a long story." Haymitch pulls out a flask he had secreted on his person and takes a swig.
Before he can put it away, Nurse Stephens snatches it out of his hand. "Alcohol isn't allowed in Thirteen," she says.
"Well ain't this a lovely slice of hell?"
Katniss smirks. "Welcome to Thirteen."
oOo
As we're finishing lunch, Topsy James arrives to inform us our schedules have been modified and to report to the main conference room. When the three of us get there, we find that only five people are waiting for us.
While I'm unsurprised to see Haymitch Abernathy and Effie Trinket seated next to President Coin, my husband clearly is. "What are they doing here?"
"Now, now, manners," Effie admonishes. "I see we have a lot to work on with this one," she addresses the last to Haymitch.
"Work on what?" Katniss asks.
"Come in please, and take a seat," President Coin tells us.
Once we're situated, Coin begins, "With the arrival of Ms. Trinket and Mr. Abernathy here, we are afforded a unique opportunity. In addition to their unique insights on how the Capitol works, they can provide valuable training for how to appeal to a broad audience."
The three of us stare at her blankly.
Haymitch lets out a snort. "I think what Alma's tryin' to say is we're here to make sure you don't suck."
"And you're the ideal person to do that?" Gale scoffs.
"Can you think of anyone better?"
Finnick Odair springs to mind, but I don't say that.
Gale crosses his arms. "We were doing just fine without you."
"Really? What was this end to a revolution bullshit I saw?" he asks, probably referring to our first failed propo attempt. "Sure, your wife's moments off-script are moving, and you and your boy are handsome enough, but y'all need to work on your image and your message."
"And you're the one to do this?" Katniss asks, just as incredulous as our husband.
Gale turns to Coin. "Are you trying to get us killed? Do you know this man's track record?"
"Don't you blame all that on me," Haymitch snaps. "You try sellin' a scared starving kid to the Capitol snobs and see how much money you get."
"Haymitch," Effie admonishes.
He turns to the woman. "What, Eff? It's true. Only damn fighter I had had the bad luck to be in the Seventieth Games. When that dam broke, poor girl didn't stand a chance."
I remember the Games he's talking about. Tuney Bush made it into the top ten, but drowned quickly after the dam burst. Poor girl had no idea how to swim and neither did most of the rest of the tributes. They all died, fighting for the few pieces of floating flotsam, while the girl from Four, Annie Cresta, treaded water until they were gone and she was the only one left.
"Look, kids," he says, looking at us. "I'm the best you've got. You think these idiots know how to appeal to people out there in the districts?" He motions to Fulvia. "A load of former Capitolites?"
Fulvia looks offended.
"Please," he scoffs. "I bet they tried to tattoo you up and put eyeliner on the boys."
Gale's unable to stifle a chuckle, thinking back to Fulvia's suggestions for improving our appearance.
"And these morons," Haymitch indicates Coin and Boggs, "wouldn't know the first thing about havin' a personality. Why, this guy's not said a word the entire time we've been here. You an avox, boy?"
Boggs glares, not even deigning to respond.
"You wanna make it out of here alive, you wanna make the districts like you, you need to work on your personality. Your presence."
"Right," Effie puts in. "Those clothes? They have to go."
"Not now, Effs."
"What? Anyone can see that they're so…" she struggles to find the word, "hideous and unshapely. All three of them are attractive young people and that gray does nothing for their skin color. You're more of a winter, dear," she says, looking at me. "And you two are much more summer/autumn. Such lovely olive skin tones! What I wouldn't do to have skin like yours."
"We're gettin' sidetracked, Eff," Haymitch says, his voice full of amusement.
"Oh, right. We'll discuss appearance later."
"Why are you even here?" Gale asks. "Haymitch at least makes sense, but you?"
"What about me?"
"You're useless!"
"Now don't go counting Epiphany Trinket out just yet," Haymitch warns. "If anyone knows how to appeal to dissatisfied Capitolites and District One, it'll be her."
"Why her?" Katniss looks at the former escort in confusion. "What makes you say that?"
"Don't you know?" Haymitch smirks. "She's a celebrity in her own right. Not quite Finnick Odair famous, but she's got herself a following."
"I don't understand," I say, looking at the woman.
Effie sighs. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you, seeing as it's public knowledge in the Capitol, but I had quite the career when I was younger. I was the face of Capitol Couture. That's no small feat, that. Thousands of girls would have killed for the opportunity, but I was chosen." I can hear the pride in her tone. It's interesting; she's never seemed proud of being Twelve's escort, but her career when she was younger, that she's proud of. It makes her seem a bit more human.
"And such a marvelous campaign it was too!" Fulvia says, gushing slightly. "Why, carnation pink was all the rage your year, and it was all thanks to you."
Blushing slightly, Effie says, "So kind of you to say so."
"So you're a washed out has been," Gale grumbles. "Doesn't mean you're any use now. Doesn't even explain why you're here."
"Mr. Hawthorne, you seem to be under the impression that modelling is an easy profession."
Gale snorts. "It's not like you did any work for a living. I bet those hands of yours haven't seen an honest day's work in your life."
"Oh?" she asks, refusing to back down. "And what do you consider an honest day's work?"
"Try hunting. Or mining coal. Or baking bread. Or anything that requires you to put a little effort in rather than just stand there and look pretty."
"I see. Then perhaps it would help improve your opinion of me to know that I have worked with my hands and my body has felt the ravages of trying to stay in a high stress, high turnover profession." She holds out her hands. I can see several calluses and the bones of her hands are very visible.
"Where did you get those?" I ask.
"A model has very short shelf life," she tells us, with a hint of sadness. "And, unfortunately, my parents were less than scrupulous with my earnings. I was able to work as a designer for a time, but just because I have an eye for fashion doesn't mean I've got the hands for it." She pauses. "Still, my knowledge has served me well."
"You may not know it, kids, but an escort's job isn't over until their tribute goes home," Haymitch steps in. "Who do you think makes sure they come home in one piece? Or as much of one piece. The escorts and the stylists are the ones who take care of the tributes at the end. After the mentors fail, they clean up our mess." Once again, there's self-loathing in Haymitch's voice.
Effie reaches out to rub his back soothingly. "Now, now. All of us fail when a tribute doesn't come home."
"Don't act like you actually care about us," Gale says.
"That's where you're wrong," Effie snaps, clearly fed up with Gale's antagonism. "I care deeply about every single one of my tributes! Why, I bet I know more about them than any of you! That Buster's favorite food was curried chicken and rice and Tuney was deathly afraid of spiders. And Joe's favorite color was orange and dear Shuga, she was so excited about becoming a big sister." She regards us seriously. "Her mother was pregnant, you know. She wanted to bring home pretty clothes and everything for the baby. Before I left, I donated what I could to the Coombses. I'm not sure if they accepted it or not, but… I had to, for Shuga. She could've been ours, you know…" Effie trails off, trying to keep herself under control.
Haymitch awkwardly pats Effie's shoulder, but I see something more in his eyes. He cares about this Capitol woman.
Deeply.
I mentally replay the conversation and realize Effie said 'ours,' not 'mine.' She and Haymitch are more than just a mentor/escort team. They're lovers. I wonder how that works. I'm also not surprised they're hiding it. It could be very dangerous if anyone found out.
Effie pulls herself together. "The Capitol isn't just the elite. We have the working classes as well. We still need janitors and technicians and hair stylists. Most Capitolites work for a living," she tells us. "The myth of the idle elite is just that: a myth. We may not have to suffer as much as the districts, but not everyone is happy with the status quo."
"Hear hear," Fulvia says. The Deputy Director leans forward. "Darling Epiphany, you should really star in a propo of your own. Why, the face of Capitol Couture defecting to the rebellion, well that's a story I know would resonate with many!"
"Just so long as you don't send it off to the districts," Haymitch warns.
"Oh no no, of course not! Why, they'd be like Gale here, they wouldn't understand!"
"Thanks," my husbands says dryly.
"No offense, darling."
"I guess we can give it a shot. I mean, it's not like we have a lot to lose," Katniss points out.
"That's the spirit, sweetheart," Haymitch says with little salute. "The odds aren't in our favor, but yours truly here's already beaten the odds. With luck and a little polishing, you'll beat the odds too."
"Sounds good. But don't call me sweetheart."
oOo
AN:
Written: 8/13/15
Revised: 10/5/15
Revised 2: 10/6/15
The title of this chapter comes from the techno song "I See Right Through to You" by DJ Encore featuring Engelina.
Yes, Effie is different here from FanficAllergy's Spectator Verse, which is why she has a different name. She's still Effie and she's still awesome.
We will not be updating next week due to Prompts in Panem. You'll get your next update as usual the Wednesday after that.
There was no randomization this chapter.
Thanks for reading! Let us know what you think!