Your World, My World

"I – There's no easy way to say this, sweetheart, but I don't know what you are," he looked down at his hands. "You started – I make characters come to life. Katniss and Peeta – they aren't real. Finnick and Annie aren't either. One day they were just there, you know? And I've got no explanation for it so I – I wrote you…. I wrote you and here you are."

He felt her staring at him and when he raised his head, the look on her face was indescribable. She was torn between trying to understand him and forcing herself to sit and not flee in horror at his apparent insanity but to her credit, she stayed.

"You are not making any sense."

Haymitch scoffed.

"You're not real, you understand? I wrote you. I know it sounds fuckin' insane but that's the best I've got, sweetheart. You're only here 'cause of me. And… We can't do this anymore," he gestured at the space between them and the regret tasted bitter on his tongue.

"Haymitch Abernathy," she snapped and in her eyes were all the fury of a woman one should learn not to cross. "If this is your way of ending things with me then it is in poor taste. Do not come up with such – such dramatic excuse just because you are bored of me. What I do not understand is," she frowned, "what has this got to do with my cat? Are you truly ending things with me because I wanted to leave town for my cat?"

"Effie," he let out a breath, paused and pinched the bridge of his nose. This was going horribly wrong. "You don't exist, you understand? Your cat doesn't exist. I ain't trying to break up with you. That's the last thing I want. I want you," he said, the admission making it passed his lips. "I want you more than I've ever wanted anything else in my life."

Her gaze softened and yet, she did not approach him, wary as she was.

"You are all that's good here but we can't do this, sweetheart," he stepped forward, bridging the gap between them.

A sad half smile sprung on his lips even as he cupped her cheek.

"I think – I think you're just something in my head," he said in a rush of breath because that had been his paramount fear. "I have to get out before it's too late."

Except, he tried to rationalise, Effie and the others had converse with people in this town. They couldn't possibly be in his head alone.

"Haymitch," she began in a frighteningly calm voice. Effie framed his face between her hands and forced him to look at her. "Are you ill? How many bottles have you had to drink today?"

"Lesser than before you came around," he spat, a little annoyed that she was chalking this up to his alcoholism.

All these time, he had stopped trying to find an explanation for their presence and had come to accept them as being a part of his life. It felt right even if some part of him knew that something was inherently wrong but now... Well, now he was forced to confront the truth that they were not like him. He was trying to make her understand it even though a part of him felt as if it was being torn apart.

Haymitch closed his fingers around her wrists to bring her hands down to her sides.

"I'm not drunk. I wish I am right now but that ain't the case. I'm – This has been going on too long. Effie," he breathed out, "You need to know and I think something's wrong with me," his gaze flitted to her and he wondered if she could see the fear and the doubt plain as day. "Do you think I'm crazy? Because I think I am. I don't want to be locked up at some psychiatric facility but you're right here and it's insane. It's fucking insane, Effie."

"Haymitch…"

He owed Effie the truth. He owed her an explanation for her 'loss' of memory of her life in the city and her past. Everyone has a past except for her, in this world.

Without waiting for her to finish, he grabbed her hand and tugged it forward, leaving her with no choice but to follow his lead. When they reached the study, Effie pulled her hand free, tossing him a confused look.

"I'm not allowed here. You made that explicitly clear."

"Yeah, cause I was trying to hid it from you. I can't risk you or the kids finding out," he explained, "but you need to see this. It's time."

The room was dark despite how bright it was outside. The curtains had been pulled shut as if to close it off from the rest of the world. To the left of his typewriter was a piled of papers, sheets upon sheets of the second novel he was working on. It was nearly done and he would have it on the desk of an editor in a few weeks' time, at most.

Haymitch brought her to a wall and she stood in front of it, her eyes tracking the numerous papers filled with his scribbles that were tacked on it.

"That's just the tip of the ice berg," he told her. "I have more."

Her fingers gently traced a yellow post-it note with Katniss' name on the wall. Then she moved on to Finnick.

"Who is Lief?"

"My brother," Haymitch answered. "I created Finnick based on him."

"You created…."

Haymitch showed her the papers with the full character profiles – details on Katniss and Peeta – and the brief short story he had written about most of these characters including her.

Effie gasped when she came upon her own paper. Her eyes widened in surprised.

"I've never – How did you know all these?" she demanded. "I have never told you my sister's name or anything else about my family. I've never talked about my nephew."

"You don't have to. I know them anyway because I wrote it. It didn't start that way, sweetheart, but as I was writing my second novel, I expanded your character along with the others."

"Stop it," she screeched. "Stop referring to me as a character. That's not what I am."

"You exist because of me. This is your past that I wrote."

"No," she shook her head ferociously, refusing to believe it. "What you are saying is impossible."

If he thought her mind was fractured before, then what he was doing was breaking her apart. He pulled her into his arms, a poor attempt at trying to hold together the pieces that made her who she is.

"You never had a cat, sweetheart," he whispered. "You're allergic to them. Something ain't right with you and I think it's my fault. I think the plot holes when you exist here is too much and – I don't know, alright? I can't explain it 'cause I don't myself but this isn't real."

She ripped herself from his arms and hit his chest hard.

"Stop it, Haymitch," she snarled angrily. "What we have is real. I love you," she said, her eyes flashing and he wanted to tear his hair out.

That was the first time he heard it and this wasn't how he wanted it to be. It wasn't fair, he wanted to shout. It wasn't fair that he had a woman who loved him and who he cared about a great deal only for this to be the way it was.

"I love you," she repeated, "and that is real. Whatever else you believe in, you have to believe in that too."

She was afraid, he could tell. He was never good at giving comfort and even if he was, right now, he had no words of comfort to offer her. His own fear was threatening to consume him.

"Then what are these?" he asked tiredly, waving his hand at the papers and the wall. "What are these things, Effie?"

"I … I want an answer for this as much as you," she told him quietly.

Effie walked around the room, taking in every piece of information and came to a stop in front of a shelf he had covered with a piece of cloth. When she pulled the cloth down, it was to see three piles of books lying down on the shelf; books he had checked out from the library and bought from the town's bookstore so Effie and the others would never stumble on it.

He held his breath as she took The Plague in her hands and began browsing it. She stopped at a page, bringing the book closer to read it and when she looked up, it was with her mouth agape.

"These are my grandparents," she breathed out.

"Yeah," Haymitch affirmed.

"This Rebellion…. I've heard of it," she frowned. "I feel... I feel as if someone has told me about this before... in another life."

He turned his head so fast towards her.

"You've heard of it?"

"Yes," she nodded slowly. "I remember it like a distant memory. My mother… She wouldn't talk about it when I ask."

"That makes sense," he ran an agitated hand in his hair. "That is your world, Effie. Not this. This one's never yours. And I think – I think when I wrote you in my second novel, it's affecting you as you are now. Logically, you would never have a memory of being taught the First Rebellion. I mean.. it was only recently that I wrote you but I – I weaved your storyline into that world. That backdrop becomes part of your past now. It enriches you as a character – gives you depth."

She looked at her hands then and turned it this way and that as if for the first time, she was starting to believe what he said. The Plague must have affected her in a way that his initial convincing could not. She was starting to make sense of the details and it was not something he could lie about, especially about her grandparents.

"Sweetheart," he grabbed her hands. "I know this is scaring the livin' shit out of you. I'm going to – "

She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Language."

"- fix it."

And in that moment, he truly believed it. He dug this hole. He could get them all out. Haymitch shook her shoulder a little when she remained silent.

"Effie, I'll fix it."

"I would not advise it. I do not think you can or should tamper further, for that matter."

Her gaze was fixed at something or rather, someone, outside of the window. From where they were standing in the study, Haymitch caught sight of Finnick running towards Peeta's house with Annie lagging behind him, looking just as distraught.

"I have not seen Finn's name in any of your characters. You have not written him yet, have you? He is not part of your sequel novel, is he, Haymitch?" she asked.

"He isn't. At least not yet."

"He's gone. Finn's gone," Effie pointed out. "Finnick and Annie would never leave him alone. They lost him because he is not part of the narrative in your story as yet."

Haymitch could hear their raised voices through his window and Annie's cries. Finnick was decidedly torn between trying to comfort her and pleading with Peeta to send a search party.

"What will happen to me if I stay?"

It was a rhetorical question at best. None of them had the answer to that question. It would be a gamble.

"If I do not belong here," Effie took a shuddering breath, "then neither do they. Their life is unhinging itself. Did you write Peeta having a bakery or Finnick setting up a seafood store here? Did you write me as an estate agent?"

There was almost an accusatory tone in her voice.

"No," Haymitch answered truthfully. "When Katniss and Peeta came, they paved their own way. Just as Finnick and Annie did. I imagined you as a model, sweetheart. You surprised me when you came here as Katniss' and Peeta's agent."

"You have no control over us here," she said in realisation. "Which means... You can't fix us here."

"Prim!"

They glanced at each other and as one, they moved towards the window. Katniss seemed disoriented and lost.

"Peeta," she approached him. "Where's Prim?"

Detaching himself from Finnick's grip, he turned his attention towards Katniss, the concern etched on his face.

"Are you alright, Katniss? What is – Why are you asking about Prim? She's … She hasn't been with us for a while. You know that. That's why we moved here. What's - " he glanced at the Odairs and then at Katniss, trying to figure out this sudden unexplainable change.

"I can undo this, Effie," he turned to face her. "That book I'm nearly done writing doesn't have to exist."

Haymitch grabbed the stack of papers next to the typewriter, fully intending of tossing them in the fire but a quick decisive movement from Effie stopped him in his track.

"You cannot do this, Haymitch. I do not know a life other than the one you have brought me to but I have a family somewhere in a world that is not here. So do they," Effie gestured in the direction of Peeta's house. "Katniss' sister is still alive. Peeta still has a family. Finnick and Annie will not remember this tragedy of losing their son. Babies do not just disappear, Haymitch. It is unnatural, as unnatural as... As me being a mere character," she forced the words out.

"You're not," he rushed to placate her despite his claims earlier. "You're more than that to me and the kids."

"You were the one to tell me that this is not real," she pointed out. "Will I remain stuck in this town forever? Neither of us knows that. You hardly know how any of this works. Are you intending to write Finnick's son and hope that he too comes to life? What if what happened to me does not happen to Finn? What about Katniss? You cannot bring Prim back into this world. She is dead in this world, is she not? Even if you manage to, it will be difficult for Katniss to wrap her head around it, too. Everything here is wrong. I see it now. You need to see it, too."

"I can't lose you. Sweetheart, please."

Haymitch hated how vulnerable and pathetic he sounded but that was the truth and he was desperate to hold on to her just a little bit longer, selfish as it was. He had nothing else to lose except her and if he had to beg, he would.

"I've lost too much."

"Stop this," Effie insisted and then her voice softened. "There is only one way for you to fix this and I think you know how. Remember this, please. What we have between us... You did it, Haymitch. You wrote your story - something you have been struggling to for years - and you are nearly at its end."

"I shouldn't have," he sighed, his shoulder sagging with the weight of what he did. Finally admitting it out loud, he said, "None of you can exist here and there without some part of you going into... dissonance."

"Big word," she tried to put on a smile. "Did you learn it while researching for your book?"

Haymitch brushed his thumb across her cheek, his gesture almost tender. He took the sight of her in, trying to commit her face to his memory. Then he kissed her like they had a thousand times before but this one tasted bittersweet.

"Isn't it peculiar that we are in this very story you are writing?"

"What are you driving at?"

"Maybe… Maybe we are meant to be your inspiration, something for you to write with. Maybe it's time for you return us back to where we belong. Write us back, Haymitch, so this will stop. Each time I try to think of my past I meet a brick wall. Finnick and Annie do not deserve that loss of a child. That pain… It's too unbearable for them. Tell me honestly, do they belong here?"

He took a long while to answer but from the first day it happened, he already knew the answer to her question. "No," he leaned his head against the window frame. "I'll lose you."

"So will I," she told him quietly and stepped into his embrace. She held tight to him. "I will miss you dearly, Haymitch. But I know you and I do not think you will be able to live with the guilt if you keep us. Will you truly be happy knowing that we might not be while we continue to be here?"

"Yeah," he said simply. She knew him better than he gave her credit for. "You're right."

"You had a life before us. You will survive this."

It was not much of a life but Haymitch held his tongue.

"What am I – Who am I in this world of yours?"

"Someone famous," he answered, carefully hiding the fact as an escort she would be part of something terrible.

He never thought it would affect her. He never thought what he wrote would have any consequences on the woman standing in front of him when she was already safe with him here.

"Who are we if not the stories we tell ourselves?" She lamented. "I did fall in love with a writer, after all."

"When did you get so smart?" Haymitch teased.

She smiled but it never reached her eyes.

"Promise me, Haymitch, that you will make it a good one. Make this the best novel you have ever written. Do not be upset. We are all just stories in the end and perhaps, in another universe, you and I will meet each other again."

You get an update on friday instead of the weekend bc I won't be in Singapore over the weekend :) I know I said ten chapters but after I finished writing it, this story deserves an epilogue so you will get one!

In the meantime, tell me what you think! Will Haymitch see through the ending of his novel? Will Effie and the others make it back?

a/n: We are all stories in the end is from Doctor Who.