Chapter Four.

A.N. Hello all! Your continued support with this story makes me update faster than I have any story so give yourselves a pat on the back. This being said, this might be my last update for a little while because I go back to school very soon.

To Wil [Aka LadyNobleSong]: Thank you for your review, you're amazingly awesome and I love all of your reviews so keep up the love! Guyz Wil writes amazing Hayffie, seriously you should all go check it out… after you read the chapter.

To Rose: Yay for more awesome reviews! You make me feel bad for giving them nightmares but I think they'll be less frequent from now on. Haha! My brain does come up with weird things doesn't it?

P.S. It's funny how it takes me like 1500 words to get to the point. Filler chapters ftw!

Haymitch was frustrated, tired, and for the first time in over a decade sober. The combination of the three left his sleepless and extremely irritable. Enough so that after an hour of starting at the ceiling and another half hour of pacing he'd eventually left his room in search of peace. Although a primarily futile endeavor he did happen to come across a sleeping Effie Trinket on the couch in the main car; something that did not bring him peace, but amused him to no end. She was curled into a ball on the couch, her knees tucked to her chest and her chin tucked into her chest; reminded Haymitch of a cat. She'd changed into her normal silk pajamas, but that was where the Capitol ended in her appearance, the woman hadn't even tried to cover up those bags under her eyes.

As he watched her guilt crept into his system, and although it was something he was used he wasn't used to feeling it over Effie. Over the years he'd done some nasty things to her, but that was just because she was an escort and all around Capitol bimbo. This was different though, he'd almost killed her… and all because she'd come to help him and ended up on the wrong side of the knife he slept with. A knife that was now sitting on his nightstand so that it would be out of reach in case the situation arose again. A knife he'd used to kill in the Games and something he'd almost used to kill Effie Trinket, something he'd only joked about and had never actually considered doing. Sure she was annoying but she was like an ignorant child; like everyone else in the Capitol.

He really was sorry though. When he'd first woken up he'd been confused; it was only after seeing the blade and feeling the blood that he realized what had happened. Damn woman; if she'd just left him none of this would have happened. The nightmares he could live with; had been doing so since his name had been picked out of that glass bowl. He still had no idea why she did it, why did she have to care so much? Haymitch rubbed his temple, God his head hurt. His mind was racing and he couldn't process all his thoughts and feelings.

He looked over when she frowned and mumbled, curling tighter into herself. God, he was giving her nightmares. That was the worst part because he knew what it was like to be trapped by fear in a dream, so close to freedom but yet so far. A small part of him wanted to be happy because she finally understood what he had been going through for too many years to count. But the time period didn't matter, because nightmares – especially ones that happened every night- had the ability to distort time. He'd been having them for years but he felt like it had been just yesterday when he'd won the Games and gone home to experience his first one.

When she started to stir, Haymitch got busy examining a portrait of some Capitol broad on the wall above the bar. The last thing he needed was the embarrassment of her waking up and catching him watching her like some stalker.

Because he wasn't stalking her.

Just watching.

"Haymitch…?" Effie's sleepy voiced floated over to him and he froze. Maybe she would go back to sleep if he was quiet enough.

He heard her sit up and he sighed as it became evident that she wasn't going to go back to sleep, at least not right away and not fast enough to grant him leave from the room. Turning, Haymitch stayed against the bar and offered Effie a half- hearted shrug.

Effie frowned, "Manners Haymitch. "

Haymitch almost laughed, that was just like her. Woman's been out of the hospital for all of seven hours and she's already well on her way back to normal. He should have seen it coming, he knew it was coming and yet he was still confused as to why he felt confused. It was probably the lack of alcohol that was making him all mushy; it had been for too long since his mind had been completely clear. Long time since he'd been left to his own thoughts, and now that he'd been reacquainted with the feeling he remembered why he'd turned to alcohol in the first place: it sucked.

Smirking at his own joke he looked up, "Yeah yeah, manners. Although if we're talking about manners, that is not the worst thing I've ever done that was… impolite."

Effie grinned, and slowly the grin turned into a laugh. A real, honest laugh which Haymitch had only heard once or twice before. Not the Capitol laugh; this laugh did not sound like bells and it certainly didn't trill, but it was real. And Haymitch smiled in spite of himself, if anyone asked she wouldn't admit it: but he loved the sound. Back in Twelve the only real laughter one heard was from children too young to understand or a drunken fool too drunk to remember. Both instances were rare and seldom lasted long enough for anyone to enjoy, so this moment was almost special.

After a moment though, the sound of Effie's laugh changed she buried her hands in her hair. It took a moment for it to click but Haymitch frowned when the realization hit, she wasn't laughing anymore… she was crying. Haymitch shifted his weight, what was he supposed to do? This wasn't Katniss or another tribute in need of comfort, because at least then he had some experience with what to do. But this… this was brand new territory for him. Children he could deal with, women he could not. Especially not the Effie Trinket kind of woman.

He rubbed the stubble on his chin as he watched her shoulder shake; the occasional sniffling noise arising from her. He would kill for a drink right now, something to just quieten his mind long enough for him to figure out what do. Taking an awkward step forward he pulled the chair over and sat opposite her on the couch. Reaching out tentatively he put a hand on her knee – and didn't miss her flinch as he did so – and exhaled slowly.

"I sorry, I don't know why I'm crying… bad manners." Effie mumbled, chuckling miserably.

Haymitch smiled sadly, "It's alright Princess. I won't tell anyone."

Effie grinned up at him, but it faded quickly. Looking back down again Haymitch saw a shiver run through her and grimaced. As hard and awkward as this was for him it was probably ten times worse for her, and that was most likely only the half of it.

"So… does the couch have better lumbar support?" He asked casually leaning back to give her more space.

Effie gave him a quizzical look. "I must admit, it's not the most comfortable thing – "

"But it's better than staring at the ceiling?" He finished for her.

She blushed and looked at the floor, "That's one reason. Yes."

Haymitch nodded, he knew what that was like. When he was younger and he'd just won the Games when he couldn't sleep he used to go lie on the porch. Looking at the stars seemed to put everything into perspective and bring some calm to his mind when things were too much. That was until he turned to alcohol after everyone had been killed, he'd found it to be a much better pain killer and mind-calmer than stars and night air.

And seeing as he could get neither here his life had gone from a living hell, to a living hell he was sober enough to experience.

He looked up to see Effie looking at him with an expression of scrutiny. "What?" he asked arching an eyebrow.

Effie regarded him another moment before answering, "You look terrible." She stated simply before a look of horror came over her features.

"Oh my! I'm so sorry! What terrible manners!"

Haymitch wasn't paying attention as he threw his head back and laughed, not caring who heard him. The look on her face had been priceless! He wiped his face with his hand as his laughter faded to a chuckle.

"Nice one, Sweetheart," he drawled.

Effie still looked mortified when she'd finally calmed down, her blush so deep he could see it clearly despite the poor lighting in the room.

"That's not what I meant… or at least that's not how I wanted to say it." Effie said, trying to rectify the situation.

Haymitch nodded, "Compared to Katniss we're both saints sweetheart."

Effie smiled ruefully and Haymitch briefly wondered what she was thinking about. He wouldn't put it past her to feels bad about not being a better teacher of manners to the teenager. Which was stupid because it would be easier to teach manners to the chair he was sitting on.

"Why are you up?" She asked, looking out the window. No doubt wondering when the mess outside would be cleaned up and they could get moving again.

"Couldn't sleep if I tried," he mumbled softly.

She smiled softly, glancing at him before looking back out the window. "I wonder how much longer we're going to be here."

Haymitch followed her gaze. In truth he wondered the same thing, they'd been stuck here for days and it was starting to get tedious. He hadn't been out there to see the damage, but whatever had caused the "natural disaster" had done so with high efficiency.

"Not long," he shrugged. "They've worked enough Avoxes to death out there. Should be done by tomorrow."

Effie clicked her tongue but did nothing more in the way of chiding him. Maybe she clued in that he didn't care.

It didn't dawn on him that she was tired until she yawned. He watched her for a moment; of course she'd be tired he'd been talking to her for almost an hour. All those manners were probably the only thing preventing her from kicking him out of the room or going to her own. That and from personal experience Haymitch knew that when you had a nightmare the last thing you wanted to do was to go back to sleep again. That was half the reason he was still here.

"Does it get better?" Effie's voice was a whisper and he could hear the shaking in her voice.

He frowned. Did he tell her the truth? What was the truth? It hadn't gotten better for him but that was different. He'd been in an arena filled with 100% more kids trying to kill him for around a week; Effie had sustained a semi-serious stab wound and was now out of the hospital and for all intents and purposes fine. Except a taruma was still a trauma and no one can predit how that's going to affect a person. Looking up at her, he found that he really didn't know the answer to her question. She could have nightmares for the rest of her life or this could be the last one she ever had. Somehow Haymitch doubted that the latter was correct.

Trying to draw on what remaining courage he had Haymitch nodded slowly. "You know princess, I think it will. I think you're going to be just fine."

The smile he received was worth the lie he'd just told.