Sobered
Summary: Effie's and Haymitch's reflections during "Mockingjay – Part I."
Effie
So, this is what rebellion looks like.
Who would expect it to be so … drab? And dull?
It wasn't dull in the beginning, to be sure. She remembers it all in bright, unpleasant flashes – waking up and realizing Haymitch was nowhere to be found, watching Katniss shoot that arrow, the screen going dark, the sick feeling in the pitting of her stomach … and running. Running, running, running, through the chaos in the Capitol, knowing she was a target, knowing all her friends were targets, Venia and Flavius…
And Cinna. Oh, Cinna.
She knew he was doomed. The minute Katniss revealed that mockingjay outfit, she knew. She tried to lie to herself, she tried to smile, but she knew what would happen.
He had been in on it, the plans for the revolution. He had known all along. Haymitch … the rebels had trusted him.
Not her.
She remembers the District 13 extraction team, one of them sporting the gold bangle, hope flaring warm in her chest, a dangerous thing. She remembers leaving behind her wigs and her dresses and her shoes and her makeup, feeling … bare. Stripped down. All her flaws and frailties are exposed now. There's nothing to hide behind.
Is it any wonder then, that she stays secluded in her dreary, tiny cell? She can hardly walk among these … cave dwellers … looking like this!
She wonders if Haymitch has even asked about her. Then she hates herself for wondering. She's seen Plutarch several times, but she hasn't asked him about Haymitch. She doesn't care. At least, she doesn't want to care.
She spends a lot of her time trying to work with the dismal materials they've provided, fashioning outfits that make her feel more like herself again. She keeps her hair covered, because letting someone see her real hair would feel like walking around stark naked.
The rest of the time, she spends pouring over Cinna's sketchbook, marveling at his brilliant, treasonous designs. She's decided she's going to keep looking at it until she can do so without crying.
It's not that she doesn't feel the loss of the prep teams as well, but Cinna, Cinna was so …special. So different from the rest of them. He had such a … gravitas. And he was such a fast friend.
She remembers when they used to talk, when she would complain to him about how difficult Haymitch was. He was so patient when she rambled on…
"Effie, relax. You don't have to worry about Haymitch. He likes you."
She had laughed. "Haymitch doesn't like anyone."
Cinna had only smiled. "He likes you."
"Well he has a funny way of showing it then," she huffed.
Cinna had chuckled. "You know how he is."
"I can't say that I do. How is he?"
"Scarred. Like the rest of them."
She wishes Cinna were here now, for so many reasons, not the least of which as she really needs someone to talk to.
As it is, all she has is Plutarch, working on her, wanting her to the Mockingjay's Escort. He says she needs someone familiar.
"What about Haymitch?"
"He's drying out in a facility two miles down."
Oh, that has to be awful. She feels a rush of sympathy for him. For a moment, she wants to ask if she can see him, but she checks herself sharply. She should focus on Katniss, not that old drunk.
And it is wonderful to see her again. Even if she does have to confirm for her that Cinna is dead.
She doesn't see Haymitch until Katniss' propo, as it is becoming rapidly obvious that their approach isn't going to work. She turns, startled by the intrusion of his presence.
"And that my friends, is how a revolution dies."
Well, he certainly looks a little worse for the wear.
Not that she cares.
So they all go back to the drab board room and brainstorm, and he seems to be actually listening to her. Hm. There might be advantages to a sober Haymitch.
"You know I like you better Effie, without all that makeup."
Her heart flutters in her chest. She can't help herself, she's wondered what he makes of her now, so exposed, so plain, all her accoutrements missing.
"Well, I like you better sober," she fires back.
He turns and looks at her.
Oh, but his expression is priceless!
They decide to send Katniss into combat. She wishes she could protest, but it makes sense.
As they all start to leave the meeting room, he pauses by where she's sitting, and he feels the gentle pressure of his hand on her shoulder.
"Good to see you in one piece."
She flashes him a smile. "You too."
She tries to remember why she was angry at him. She can't seem to recall.
Haymitch
He almost can't recognize her.
No makeup. He never thought he'd see the day.
She has really nice skin.
He wishes she'd let her hair down…
Well. That hardly matters now.
Damn, he needs a drink. He really hates this forced sobriety.
Though he supposes it's a little better now. Some of the withdrawal symptoms have faded - at least he's not shaking anymore. He was pretty much dead to the world. They called it drying up, but it felt like he was drowning. Every twinge, every pain, physical or otherwise, that he had numbed with the booze – they all came to vivid life in his mind and his body with a terrifying intensity. His Games, Maysilee, the death of his family – all the ghosts come back to haunt him, and there are new ones coming along for the ride. Peeta, Katniss …
And Effie.
He doesn't even know if she's alive.
Until they bring him back the gold bangle. Then he knows.
He clutches it like a lifeline, the sharp edges digging into flesh and making him bleed, the pain at least a distraction from the shaking and the nightmares and the screaming of his body for alcohol.
She's okay. She's okay.
And she's not wearing makeup.
Dressed in drab gray.
She's never looked more beautiful to him.
He wishes she'd let her hair down…
He needs a drink.
It's hard enough for him to see Peeta on the screen. Damn, the boy looks bad. He can only imagine what Katniss is going through.
When Peeta gives the warning, District 13 goes even deeper underground.
And when he's down there with the rest of them, he doesn't see Effie anywhere.
He starts looking for her.
He passes Katniss and her family. They're playing "crazy cat" with the flashlight.
"You seen Effie?"
Katniss shakes her head, frowning slightly.
"I'm sure she's here," she says uncertainly, as if trying to convince herself more than him.
He moves on, trying to fight a rising panic.
He needs a drink so bad …
He finds her in a bottom bunk, sitting with her arms curled around her knees, and the relief is overwhelming.
"Effie." He says it softly, but she still starts.
"Haymitch," she breathes. "You're alright!"
He smiles. "You're alright too."
Another missile hits, and the room shakes.
Effie winces, then gives a nervous little laugh. "Oh, I don't think I'll ever get used to that."
"I don't think anybody could." He hesitates, then sits down beside her. When she reaches for his hand, he doesn't pull away.
And when the next tremor hits, she's curls up into him, and the familiar warmth of her almost makes him forget the burning desire for alcohol.
"I missed you, Haymitch."
"I misse you too, Effie."