. . . . . .

Day Seven

. . . . . .

Haymitch wakes up the next morning with a vague sense of unease. He can't quite put a finger on why—the room is dark and empty, and his sleep was blissfully dreamless—so he lays in bed, staring at the ceiling, until it finally hits him: it's raining outside. Normally he likes the sound of rain hitting the windows; in a strange way it gives him a feeling of security. But this morning, when his brain finally registers the sound of tapping on his roof, he finds himself frowning and breathing out one word: "Effie."

He dresses quickly, being sure to put on his waterproof boots, and grabs an old umbrella on the way out the door. She'll be fine, of course—from what she's said, the rain doesn't bother her when she's inside—but he'll rest a little easier when he sees that for himself.

"Haymitch," Peeta says when his old mentor appears, "I didn't know you were coming. I was thinking of having a mid-morning snack—join me for some biscuits?"

So no catastrophe here. Haymitch examines Peeta. "You here alone?"

"Katniss and Effie went right after breakfast to pick up Effie's new jacket from Delly's shop."

Haymitch's hands tighten around the damp umbrella he's holding. "So Effie's out in the rain right now?" Maybe there's a catastrophe after all.

"I know what you're thinking," Peeta says. "I pointed out the clouds when they left, but Katniss said it was only going to rain, not storm. And I trust Katniss on these sorts of things."

"And that was good enough for Effie?"

Peeta shrugs. "She said she doesn't love rain, but she can handle it as long as that's all it does. And it hadn't even started raining by the time they left." Haymitch must look unconvinced, though, because Peeta says reassuringly, "They'll be fine. If it got bad, there's places they could take shelter between here and Delly's." He glances at the clock on the mantle. "In fact, that's probably what they're doing now; they were supposed to be back twenty minutes ago."

That was the exact wrong thing to say, because now all Haymitch can think about is Effie curled up under a tree somewhere, screaming while Katniss helplessly tries to comfort her, and it's all his fault, the storms and the blood. "Maybe we should make sure they made it okay," he says, trying to keep his voice casual.

Peeta examines him a long moment. "Sure, if you think that's a good idea," he says, and there's a smile in his voice.

Haymitch doesn't care; let the boy think he's being sentimental. He told Plutarch he'd look after Effie, and anyway she was at some kind of peace yesterday and he hates the thought of that being ruined.

The two men tromp out into the rain, umbrellas held overhead. It's worsened a little since Haymitch walked over to Peeta's, but Katniss seems to be right: it's not doing anything but raining. The dirt roads of 12 are muddy and wet, and Haymitch can only imagine how upset Effie would be at having to walk through this mess. He hopes that's the only thing she's upset about.

As it turns out, Effie is in fact in Delly's shop, but she's not trapped there by her fear of the storm. In fact, she doesn't seem to have noticed the rain at all. She is deep in conversation with Rowan, the district administrator, and Haymitch can tell even from the door that she is in full-fledged social mode. Not that he means that as an insult; he's seen more than once the way that she can win people to her side when she turns on the charm. Helped him win sponsors for Katniss and Peeta a time or two, if he remembers right.

"Haymitch! Peeta!" she says, surprised, turning to look at them, while from across the store Katniss looks over from her conversation with Delly and flashes Peeta a warm smile. "What are you doing here?"

Haymitch has no idea how to answer—he hardly wants to say "To make sure you weren't catatonic" in front of her new friend—but luckily he's with Peeta and that kid's got a gift with words. "We weren't sure you'd brought umbrellas," Peeta says smoothly.

"Oh, that's thoughtful of you," says Effie warmly. "I'm sorry we're so much later than we said we'd be. I just got caught up in the conversation."

Okay, so clearly Haymitch totally overreacted. Idiot, he tells himself firmly. But then Effie gives him a look, smiling but fraught with meaning, and adds, "And I wanted to wait out the rain."

He gives her a half smile. Maybe he's not a total idiot.

"Do you two know Rowan?" Effie says, gesturing at her companion.

The man smiles at them, and Haymitch nods back without answering the question. He met Rowan when he first came back after the war, and once or twice since then, but that's it. Haymitch already knows enough people; he's not too interested in knowing more.

Peeta, however, seems to be old friends with the man and gives him a hearty handshake. Leave it to Peeta to befriend everyone in the new 12, even though he's really only been functional for the last six months. "Of course, Rowan, how are you doing?" he asks, and angles his body so there's room for Haymitch in the circle. Great, now he has to be social.

"I'm good." Rowan smiles at Haymitch as he saunters up their group. "Just getting to know your visitor, Miss Trinket. 'Course, I remember her from the Hunger Games, but I barely recognized her—she looks so much prettier than she did back then."

"Stop," Effie laughs, looking pleased, and Haymitch fights hard to keep his face neutral. Is Rowan flirting with her? The man must be fifty years old. Of course, that's only six years older than Haymitch, but still.

"And of course, always nice to see our lovely Miss Everdeen," Rowan goes on, smiling fondly over at Katniss. "Always an absolute delight. Such a sweet girl." Really? On her most cheerful days, Katniss Everdeen has a face like a stone wall—a beautiful stone wall, but a stone wall, nonetheless. Ah, yes, now Haymitch is remembering his previous interactions with Rowan: the man is effusively complimentary of everyone he meets. That's why 12 chose him as administrator; he's friends with everyone, sees the best in everyone.

Still, it's absurd for him to flirt with Effie. He's old enough to be her father.

"Rowan and I were just talking politics," Effie says. "He's telling me what it's like to run a district."

"A lot of work, I can tell you," Rowan laughs. "Believe you me, I'll be happy when proper elections get up and running next year and I can retire. Think I'll start a farm."

"Unless we elect you back into office," says Peeta cheerfully.

"Never," chuckles Rowan. "Nothing would make me happier than knowing I never had to take that hovercraft ride from here to the Capitol again. I hate those things. Always afraid we're about to fall out of the sky. That's why I like Paylor's new idea so much."

"New idea?" asks Effie.

"She wants each district to choose a representative from among their citizens," he explains. "Someone to bring their district's needs and concerns straight to the government."

"Sounds like a decent idea," says Haymitch.

Rowan looks hopeful. "Don't suppose you'd be interested?" he says, looking from Haymitch to Peeta. They both shake their heads, and he sighs. "Trouble is, everyone I've asked so far has said no. We've only got a hundred and thirty-four people here, half of whom are children, and the rest don't want the job. It'd mean travel back and forth all year, spending loads of time in the Capitol, and no one wants to do that. If they bothered to move back to 12, it's because they want to stay here. If they wanted to be in the Capitol, they moved there after the war."

"I've had enough of the Capitol for one lifetime," says Peeta. "But if I hear of anyone wanting to do some travel, I'll let you know."

From there the conversation turns to Effie's work in TV; as it turns out, Rowan is a huge fan of Stories Across Panem. "The episode about the little girl in 5 getting reunited with her parents?" Rowan puts a hand over his heart. "I don't mind telling you, I wept like a child."

"I know!" says Effie, mirroring his gesture. "It took twice as long as usual for us to put that segment together because everyone kept crying."

"Why haven't you done an episode on 12 yet?" the administrator asks.

"Well, for one thing, we've been going in numerical order," says Effie, and everyone laughs. And then she hesitates. "We've been waiting. We thought 12 needed more time than anyone else to . . . recover. And we've been waiting for a good story—something to really do your district justice."

"What about the Mockingjay?" Rowan asks, glancing back at Katniss.

"Definitely not," Peeta says. "If you tried, there's a good chance Katniss would just stab you right then and there."

"Don't be silly," says Haymitch. "Katniss prefers a bow. But yes, killing, definitely."

"I've been thinking," says Effie, "about this shop. Four women who lost everything in the war, creating this business right in the middle of the bombed-out area—you know, phoenix rising from the ashes and all that."

"I think that's a great idea," says Peeta warmly.

"I'll probably cry again," says Rowan.

"I'll have to run it by Plutarch," Effie says, but she looks pleased by their praise.

A thought occurs to Haymitch. "So to do that, you'd have to come back out here, right?" he asks.

Effie turns to look at him, and there's a look on her face that he has a hard time identifying. She looks almost . . . bashful? "Yes, the whole crew would be here for at least a few days."

"Good," he says without thinking.

Normally when Effie smiles, it fills her whole face; back in the Hunger Games times, he used to think it made her look a bit like a shark. The smile she gives him now is nothing like that; it's small and sweet and sincere and affectionate, and he's surprised by how much he likes it. "I look forward to it."

Peeta and Rowan exchange a look.

. . . . . .

They wait another twenty minutes but the rain never lets up, so finally they give up and head out. Katniss and Effie did in fact bring umbrellas, making the menfolk's excuse for coming to town null and void, but after Peeta shivers in the cold—the boy didn't think to wear a jacket—Katniss closes her umbrella and slips under his so she can take his arm. Peeta turns to look at her, and the smiles that pass between the two teens make Haymitch simultaneously roll his eyes and smile.

Back at Peeta's house they have lunch. When the meal has been cleared away, Katniss returns to her house, telling them not to expect her before dinner because her mother is calling this afternoon. Katniss doesn't have much to say to her, but the woman insists that they keep in touch, so every few months Katniss dutifully waits for her call and then takes to the woods for a few hours in order to regain her equilibrium. Peeta's concern for her is written across his face as she prepares to leave, but she just gives him a half smile and then disappears out the door.

With her gone, Peeta settles onto the sofa for a nap, telling them that he didn't sleep well last night. Haymitch assumes the truth is that he'd rather sleep than stay awake and think about how much he wishes he was over there with Katniss, but either way, the two guests are left to their own devices. The rain has still not let up, so they look around the living room for a few moments, and then Effie picks up a deck of cards. "Nine Stars?"

Haymitch smirks at this; they've played several times over the course of the week, usually after dinner is finished, and she has yet to win a round. It's not her fault, they tell her; she only learned the game a few days ago, and they are all old hands at it. Cards were cheap and readily available in the old days of 12, and most houses had a deck—not much else to do in the evenings. Any true District 12-er grew up an expert at Nine Stars, even a merchant like Peeta.

Once Haymitch and Effie start playing, though, it quickly becomes clear that Effie is rapidly improving; she doesn't have the strategy down, but a large portion of the game involves bluffing, and that she excels at. Only a few rounds in, she wins for the first time.

"I see how it is," Haymitch says when she triumphantly lays her cards down on top of his. "You think you're pretty good, huh? How about we make the next round a little more interesting?"

"A wager, Mr. Abernathy?" she challenges, raising one eyebrow. "Fine. If I win the next round, you have to dance at the party tomorrow. With me."

He chuckles. Apparently she's been paying attention; he told her on her third day in 12 how much he hates dancing and how little intends to do so at the party. "Fine," he agrees; after all, that last hand was a fluke and he'll definitely win the next one. "And if I win, you can't pester me about dancing all night. Not even once."

"Deal," she says, and begins dealing the cards with an expression that says this is deadly serious business. He hides a smirk as he watches her; it never fails to amuse him how zealous she can be when she puts her mind to something. Well, now it never fails to amuse him; back in the days of the Hunger Games, it failed to amuse him quite a lot.

But all her earnestness notwithstanding, she never has a chance; he starts the round with two aces, and it would take a miracle to beat that hand. And that's a miracle she doesn't get. "Sorry, princess," he says at the end of the round, laying down his cards. "I guess I win the bet."

"Ah," she says, and her smile is good-natured, but there's something behind it, a sort of flatness. "Well, lucky you."

She seems, surprisingly, a little disappointed. Was she that eager to see him dance? Maybe she just wanted to see if he's really as bad as he claims. Whatever the reason, he finds he doesn't like seeing her smile dim. So he shrugs. "But that doesn't mean I won't dance. Just that you aren't allowed to bug me about it."

And there it is, that smile that always makes him grin in return, the one he only ever sees her direct at him, the one that looks like she's trying to purse her lips disapprovingly but she can't keep the corners from turning up in a grin. His mouth quirks into a smile in reply. And then she opens her mouth to speak.

But he never finds out what she was going to say because suddenly Peeta, sprawled on the sofa along the far wall, makes a little protesting noise in his sleep. "Noisy sleeper?" Effie guesses. But Peeta's not done; his breathing quickens until it's coming in audible gasps, and even across the room Haymitch can see the boy's brow furrow and his jaw clench. "Or something more," she guesses.

"Nightmare," Haymitch says unnecessarily. He imagines Effie has experience enough with nightmares to recognize one.

"Should we wake him?" she asks as the boy starts to toss in his sleep.

Haymitch shrugs. "It seems like it varies—sometimes waking him up helps and sometimes it makes it worse."

But the nightmare seems to be growing worse, and the worry line between Effie's brows grows deeper and deeper as Peeta's thrashing worsens. Tentatively she stands and takes a few steps toward the sofa. "Peeta?" she says softly.

It's impossible to say whether this is in response to Effie, but Peeta speaks for the first time. "Stop!" he cries to whatever specter haunts his dreams.

Effie looks helplessly back at Haymitch, but before he can decide whether they should wake the boy, Peeta sits up suddenly. "No!" he shouts as he wakes up. Or at least he mostly wakes up. His eyes are wide and staring, his expression one of terror, his hands shaking, and Haymitch knows this state all too well, having seen Peeta in it a number of times: whatever he saw in his dreams has triggered the conditioning the Capitol put him through, and in these confused moments after waking, he is back the way he was eighteen months ago, his memories and sense of reality twisted by Snow's men, no idea which way is up.

His breathing is heavy and labored and he stares unseeingly at his companions, his hands clenched tightly into fists. Haymitch doesn't want to know what will happen if he recognizes his old escort. "Effie," he calls softly, "come back here."

And Effie must see the wisdom in that idea, because she starts to back up slowly. All this does, though, is catch Peeta's attention. "Effie Trinket?" he says hoarsely. "What are you doing here?"

Effie watches him as his chest heaves in fear, and then to Haymitch's surprise, she speaks calmly. "Peeta, look around. Where are you?"

He stares at her. "What?"

"This room you're in. What is it?"

"It's . . . my living room."

"And where's your living room?"

His breathing has started to slow. "In . . . the Victor's Village. In . . . 12." He lets out a great whoosh of a sigh. "I'm not in the Capitol anymore," he says, and drops his face into his hands.

"No, you're safe here with us," she says warmly. Then she glances back and notices Haymitch watching her in surprise. "It's a technique Dr. Aurelius taught me for dealing with nightmares," she shrugs.

"Oh, my gosh," Peeta says through his hands, "sorry, you guys. I don't know how that . . ."

"It's fine," Effie is quick to reassure him.

He's silent a long moment, then peeks up at them. "Just . . . please don't tell Katniss, okay? It worries her every time, and she's got enough on her plate today."

"Promise," Effie says.

Peeta slides back down to curl up on the couch, staring miserably at some spot near Haymitch's feet, until Effie tentatively takes a seat near the head of the couch. "Don't worry," she says, and with one hand she begins to the smooth the curls off Peeta's forehead. Peeta tenses at first, and then, like snow melting, he starts to relax. "We all have our moments," she says, her voice soothing. "And anyway, that was what, a two and half at best?" A smile crosses Peeta's face, and then his eyes flutter closed and his breathing deepens—asleep or just relaxing, Haymitch doesn't know.

He watches the scene quietly. It's all a bit sentimental and sappy, but he has to admit that it seems to be what Peeta needs. After a moment, Effie, her fingers still smoothing Peeta's hair, looks back and at Haymitch. "My father used to do this when I was a child," she says softly. "To calm me after a nightmare."

Haymitch wonders what it would have been like to have someone around after his Games, to soothe him when he awoke in the dead of night from dreams of dead tributes. And then he wonders who's there for Effie now. She's never mentioned having anyone in her life, and given that she's told them every single other detail of her life in the Capitol, he thinks it's safe to assume there isn't anyone. And it makes him sorry, to imagine her waking from dreams of blood to find herself alone in a dark apartment, no one to remind her that it's not real and that she's safe. And he thinks he understands more than ever why Plutarch sent her to them. At least for this week, she's not alone.

. . . . . .

The sound of Katniss coming in the front door is what wakes Peeta up the second time; by then Haymitch and Effie have played another hour of Nine Stars and an hour and a half of a Capitol card game called Circenses, and they have spent a full two hours sitting on the other sofa and talking. It's the first time they've spent so long chatting, just the two of them, and Haymitch is surprised by how easy it is to talk to her. They reminisce about parties in the Capitol, she tells him amusing anecdotes about people she's met (she's quite funny, when she wants to be), he tells her about life in District 13, they learn they have a shared fascination with the stars, she tries to convince him to take up a hobby. He's so caught up in their conversation that he doesn't notice until Katniss returns how hungry he is.

"Any plans for dinner?" Katniss asks them as she walks in.

Peeta, who has been blearily rubbing the sleep from his eyes, jumps awake at that. "Dinner! I forgot, I'm sorry. I was going to try to make that lamb stew you loved so much at the Capitol, but that takes ages. I should have started hours ago."

"You know what?" says Katniss. "If you slept that long, you probably needed it. We'll just make sandwiches. You do make the best bread in the district, after all."

"I make the only bread in the district," says Peeta, but he's glowing at the compliment.

After a simple meal of sandwiches on the best bread in the district, Effie beams around at them in the way she does when she's very excited about something. "I had an idea for tonight, if we don't have any other plans."

"Sure," says Katniss.

"I brought some episodes of Stories Across Panem on video. I thought we could watch them so you could all see my work."

"That sounds great," says Peeta enthusiastically.

Katniss's expression is not quite as enthusiastic, but she says, sounding sincere, "It would be interesting to see what people are into in the Capitol."

"And here too," Effie reminds her. "Don't forget that your own district administrator loves the show."

"So if you've had these with you all week," Katniss asks, "why are you only pulling them out now?"

"Honestly?" says Effie, glancing at Haymitch. "I didn't think Haymitch would agree to watch them."

Haymitch grins. "And you think I will now?"

Effie gives him a long, cool, considering look, and then breaks into a confident smile. "I rather think you will. I think you and I have come to an understanding, Mr. Abernathy."

"Don't get cocky, princess," he says. "You can't tell me what to do."

She simply continues to watch him, her eyebrows slightly raised, and finally he sighs and gives in. "All right, let's go watch your show."

Effie claps her hands delightedly and darts upstairs to get the video cards. While she's gone, Katniss turns an amused look on Haymitch. "That was very accommodating of you, Mr. Abernathy. Are you turning over a new leaf? Is this a kinder, gentler Haymitch?"

"Don't get smart, kid." There's no need to tell Katniss that for the past day or two, he's found himself unusually willing to grant Effie's requests. Katniss has probably noticed it anyway. But that's nothing for him to be embarrassed about. It's not written anywhere that he has to be a jerk to everyone; he's allowed to be nice if he wants to.

Peeta has no video card player, so they all troop over to Haymitch's house—he has the latest model, courtesy of Plutarch, who's always trying to get him to watch his shows. The house has been empty for hours, and though Haymitch turns up the heat to combat the chill from the rainy weather outside, he knows it will take a while to warm the house. So he opens the trunk where Jo places his blankets. "Anyone need a blanket?"

"Oh, yes, please," says Effie, who's been putting the video card in the player, and he tosses her the one on top.

Facing the television is one long sofa, and all four of them settle down onto it to watch. As the video card starts up, Effie unfolds her blanket, and Haymitch sees that he has unthinkingly given her his favorite blanket, the heavy soft one he's had for a decade that he always sleeps with when he sleeps on this couch. It's big enough that she spreads it over the other inhabitants of the couch, and as she brings her bit of it up snugly under her chin, Haymitch is struck by the sight. Effie getting comfortable under his blanket—well, that's an avenue of thought he probably shouldn't go down.

The episode of Stories Across Panem that Effie has chosen to show them is about a young man from District 3 who lost a leg in an accident as a child and, despite working in a factory that created medical equipment, could never afford to get a prosthetic; after the war, he finally got a prosthetic leg, and then started creating low-cost prosthetics for victims of war violence all across Panem. And Haymitch has to admit, it's pretty good. He doesn't know much about making movies or television shows, but overall the whole thing is just good-looking—the shots, the music, all of it. And the story is moving and tastefully told, and by the scene at the end where a little girl from 8 gets a prosthetic leg and her mother cries because she's going to walk again . . . well, Haymitch would be lying if he said he wasn't a little bit moved. And his companions seem to agree; Effie is absolutely enthralled, despite having undoubtedly seen this many times before, and Peeta is almost as riveted—maybe he identifies, because of his own prosthetic leg—and even Katniss has a reluctant little smile on her face.

The credits roll. "It's you!" says Peeta happily as "Associate director: Effie Trinket" scrolls down the screen. "Effie, that was amazing!"

"Did you like it?" Effie asks shyly.

"I thought it was great," said Peeta.

"It really was," says Katniss. "Honestly, I thought it was going to be sappy but that was really good."

Effie turns to look at Haymitch, sitting on the other end of the couch, and he cracks a grin. "It was pretty good," he admits. "Never seen that much of District 3 before."

"It's crazy that he was working in a place that made prosthetic legs and he could never get one," says Peeta. "I always figured, since they were making things that cost a lot of money, that they were pretty well off. Apparently not."

"They were one of the first districts to join the uprising in the Dark Days," Haymitch responds, remembering some conversations he had with Beetee. He really should call that guy. "The Capitol never forgave them for it. Kept the people down, even though the district was rich."

"That was great, Effie," says Peeta. "Got any more?"

Effie looks surprised and pleased. "There are a few more episodes on this card," she says.

"I'm in," says Peeta.

"Sure, let's do it," says Katniss.

Effie looks at Haymitch. "Yeah, all right," he says, and she smiles and hits play on the remote.

This one's about a family in 6, and it's nice. The whole evening is nice. The show is good and he's warm under the blanket and Effie is sort of leaning her head on his shoulder and her arm is brushing his arm and he kind of likes it although he's pretty sure that if he lets himself think about it he'll freak out so he doesn't let himself think about it, just like he doesn't let himself loop his arm through hers as he suddenly really wants to do. It's just nice to feel that there's another human being nearby. And it's nice that this particular human being smells great and has really soft skin.

And okay, maybe by the time the last episode ends, he finds that his arm has looped through hers without his permission. But that doesn't mean anything. It was just another nice part of a very nice evening.

A very, very nice evening.

. . . . . .