Epilogue:

A year later…

"Have you seen my blue earrings?" she asked from the small en-suited bathroom.

Haymitch glanced lazily at the dresser but couldn't be bothered to really look, too busy staring at the ceiling and worrying over the train's next stop. The post-war victory tour had been Plutarch's idea – like most of the rebels' plans – and as far as Haymitch was concerned it was a bad one.

The war had been long and taxing for everyone involved, Haymitch and Effie most of all. They had been paraded around like puppets, made to act for cameras that couldn't leave them alone for five minutes… The wedding had been the worst, he mused, absent-mindedly brushing the golden band on his finger – not because he hadn't wanted to marry her but because he hadn't meant to do it in front of fifty cameras and the entire population of Thirteen. Acting happy and in love all the time had taken their toll on them. They had gone through months of arguing and ugly fights that often left them hating the others for a few hours – rarely longer, they loved each other too much for fights to last much longer than a day or two.

And when they had finally won, when Snow finally surrendered… He had thought they would be free only to realize it had been a pipe dream from the start. Once a victor, always a victor. They wanted them on camera, offering unlimited support to the rebel government, distracting people from their worries with their so wonderful love story…

When Plutarch had suggested a pregnancy would do wonders to lift the spirits of Panem's citizens, Haymitch had thought Effie was going to chop his head off.

Truth be told, Haymitch had been relieved by her reaction.

He had been less relieved when President Fren had stepped down due to his age and elections had been organized only to have Alma Coin presented as the rebels favorite. Effie had launched herself whole heartedly in a campaign against her, offering her public support to a District rebel leader instead. Haymitch had stuck by her side, of course, amused by the whole thing but attentive that Coin wouldn't try something stupid like attempting to have Effie killed.

Effie was very skilled at planning, it hadn't been a surprise when her favorite had won.

Coin had gone back to Thirteen but he was sure they hadn't heard the last of her. That woman was thirsty for power.

After the elections, Plutarch had suggested the victory tour as a last hurrah and a way to let the Districts know they weren't forgotten.

"I can't wait for this to be over." he mumbled when she finally walked out the bathroom. She didn't look like his mysterious girl anymore – no more baggy clothes and unruly hair. She was wearing proper dresses nowadays with make-up and fashionable hairstyles. She had never truly gone back to the Capitol fashion and its over-the-top dresses, make-up and wigs. She knew he disliked them and she was more keen on seducing him than pleasing the rest of the world. She made the trends nowadays anyway.

"One more and we will be done." she reminded him, fishing her earrings from the bedside table. "We can settle down."

Her smile was bright and contagious. He almost forgot to be nervous about their last stop. Twelve had been almost completely destroyed during the rebellion – because of him and his escape – and he wasn't in any hurry to face the consequences of his stunt. He had been adamant about not going back there to film propos or the likes. He didn't want to see it.

"Where?" he asked, rolling on his side to watch her clip her earrings on.

She sat down next to him to brush a hand against his cheek. "Anywhere. I don't mind as long as I'm with you."

She was twenty now but he knew she felt like a thousand years old. They had both seen and done things that had aged them before their time. Haymitch aspired to nothing but peace and solitude. He wanted her and that was all.

"Time to stop running." he said, forcing a smile.

"There is nothing to run from anymore." she corrected him. "We are free."

"We will never be free." he argued, placing his hand on hers. "You know that. Plutarch will invent another public thing in a month or they will want interviews or…" He stopped and sighed. He hated being in the spotlight. He hated when they were in the spotlight, exposed for everyone to pick or marvel at their perfect relationship. Their relationship was far from perfect, it was born from survival and as much as they loved each other they had their bad days just like everybody else. Except bad days weren't allowed when you were Panem's sweethearts. "We will never be free."

She leaned in and pressed a tentative kiss against his mouth.

"Then we need to disappear." she whispered against his lips. "I'm an expert at hiding, haven't you heard?" Her grin turned evil and she kissed him more deeply. "I'm an expert at many things. Perhaps I will show you tonight."

"Promises, promises…" he snorted with a smirk. "Two, sweetheart. You're a flirt."

"Twenty-three." she countered easily. Their game had outgrown them now, they were well past a hundred things they knew about each other. Sometimes the numbers switched because they couldn't remember which was which, sometimes they forgot and simply gave the other a new point. The only constant was Twelve. Twelve meant I love you and would always mean it. "You secretly love it when I make you beg."

"True." he admitted easily, pulling her closer. She complained about creasing her dress but in the end, she curled up next to him and waited until the train slowed down to a complete stop.

"Time to go." she murmured softly. "I will be right beside you."

Just like he had been right beside her when she had finally found the strength to go back to her parents' estate – it belonged to her now but he doubted she would ever want to live there; she loved the house but she couldn't get over what she had witnessed there. She still had nightmares of the day her family was murdered.

Her hand slid into his, right when the train's doors opened. The by now familiar camera crew was already on the platform, ready to capture the moment and broadcast it live but Haymitch didn't look at them.

There were quite a few people waiting there – less than in any other District but probably more precious. He glimpsed Graesy Sae's wrinkled eyes, some people from his childhood and…

"They're alive!" Effie's delighted whisper reached him right before she let go of his hand to rush to their friends. He followed, what else could he do? He accepted Aster's hug readily enough and clasped Everdeen on the shoulder, he even lifted the toddler and couldn't help a smile when the child laughed good heartedly.

Katniss, he remembered her name was.

There was some relief in knowing Katniss would grow up without any fear of hearing her name being called at a Reaping.

It made everything worthwhile.

And all of it, all he was, he owed it to the mysterious girl who had hidden from snow in his house.

His hand found Effie's again.

He vowed to never let go.

The End

And it ends. I really enjoyed writing this story, playing with the possibility of younger Haymitch and Effie was fun. I hope you enjoyed the ride and the ending.

I want to thank Akachankami again for the beta-reading and the beautiful banners (that you can see on my tumblr).

Please let me know what you thought about it, even if it's just a line, I appreciate all feedback.

See you soon for new adventures!