Author's note: I'm back! I haven't slept for about 48 hours right now, so please bear with me if I don't hit the right keys. I had an amazing convention, just so you knoooowwwwww..

To the anonymous review asking if Cinna likes Effie: I don't personally think Cinna sees Effie as a love interest. Well, it might sound stereotypical, but I think Cinna is either a-sexual or gay. To me, they click. They have a great friendship, almost in the big brother / little sister sort of way. I'm sure there are some other shippers out there, though :) Good hunting!

This story may be seen as triggering to people dealing or having dealt with self injury, suicide or depression. Rated M for descriptive violence and very dark themes.


He had his phone fixed. She called him every day to do check-ups. She was sick. Not physically, but mentally. Worse than she'd appeared before. She told him she started on her wrists and she was sorry. Haymitch felt helpless. There was a fifty-fifty chance of him going back into the arena. He knew Peeta would volunteer for him, if Effie drew 'Haymitch Abernathy' first, but he'd also made a promise to himself to volunteer if the first name would be 'Peeta Mellark'. It beat her up more than it beat him up. When he told her about this plan she cried for an hour. He cried a bit too. Because he knew what she did to herself when she hung up. One day she stopped calling. He called her several times, but no one answered. He broke down. Trashed everything in his house and drank way too much until he passed out on the floor, waking up the next morning in his own vomit. Katniss threw a bucket of cold water in his face. Back to training.


"Miss Trinket was not able to make it to the Reaping, Mr Abernathy, she'll most likely be meeting you in the Capitol," the unknown Capitol woman said to him. She was here for the Reaping. She'd introduced herself as 'Beth' and she looked like somebody had smashed her face with a sledgehammer, with her red tinted skin and black tattoos, covering where her eyebrows might once have grown.

"Why?" Haymitch asked harshly. Peeta took him by the shoulder and tried to pull him away from the woman.

"Officially she's sick with the flu, but the last time I saw her, she still hadn't got her red bracelet from the crazy ward removed," she spat out.

"Effie's not crazy!" Haymitch protested.
"Mr Abernathy, please… Let's get on with this, I'm not happy to be here either," she sighed and pointed to the square where him and Peeta were supposed to stand. She didn't make much of deal of it. Peeta volunteered for Haymitch. Katniss was chosen. It wasn't very exciting. They were lead directly to the train. Never had he felt more alone on the well known train ride. Crazy ward? Was she hospitalized? For what? He couldn't even focus on whatever emotions he was supposed to be feeling about this Quell. He didn't even have time to get emotional about his own games, which was brought up by everyone now. All he could see when he closed his eyes was blood. He kept telling himself that she'd be hospitalized even in the condition he knew her in when he left her after the victory tour. There was just no one to tell authorities of her condition. Maybe Cinna had found out or something. If she'd started on her wrists like she told him it'd be easier to catch her. He hoped so badly nothing serious had happened to her. That she was okay. He would soon see that she was far from okay.


Her eyes were the most haunting sight in the world, though the big, fake smile sat stiffly in her face, they seemed to be so empty, they could be made of glass – though they reflected nothing at all. She talked to Peeta and Katniss in an adoring manner, pepped them up, and tried her hardest to keep to their schedule. He noticed the long sleeves. They were not in season, but he knew the reason behind them. The entire day going around her with the tributes and the stylists waiting for their next move, not being able to do any more than a light kiss now and then, went so slow he almost felt physical pain from it.

As darkness came Katniss and Peeta went to bed and the stylists left. Cinna was the last one to leave and the look he sent Haymitch told him a story about how much hate he could muster.

"You weren't at the Reaping," Haymitch said softly. She sat on the sofa staring at her crossed knees. "You disappointed me, Effs, I was looking forward to being your tribute for a change," The joke didn't really get to her. She barely moved.

"How much have you heard?" she asked without looking at him. He paced a few times back and forth behind the bar. He couldn't sit still. He couldn't even hold his drink steadily.

"That Beth-woman, hideous beast by the way, said something about … A red bracelet," he tried to be elegant about it, not saying any words that sounded triggering. Effie nodded silently.

"I thought it'd all change when we won. But it all got worse, Haymitch,"

"How so?" Haymitch asked. He thought Effie would get a kick out of it. The Capitol loved her, loved the winners and loved everything splendid and spectacular.

"Well… First of all, they thought we cheated. I once dated Seneca Crane for a short while, so it was highly suspicious, I've been through so many interrogations," she said in a low whisper.

"But we didn't cheat," Haymitch assured her.

"No. They realized that. Then I heard what the Quell was going to be, I was so … So scared. They did it to get rid of them, changed the Quell. I'm not supposed to say that, but… They killed Seneca and I was afraid they might do something to you too, or Katniss and Peeta," He was disgusted by the pang of jealousy he felt when she talked about the former head game maker. "Everybody kept looking at me. There was so many expectations, I … I cracked," she breathed heavily.

"Cracked?" Haymitch asked feeling like someone was clawing at his intestines. She started crying, not knowing how to explain herself. He went over to her, sat down next to her and took her hands. Finally she looked at him.
"It isn't pretty," she said as he went to draw up her sleeve. There were bandages on her wrists, but they weren't covering all of the cuts. He opened the clasps on the left bandage and she looked away as he uncovered something even Haymitch could recognize.


"You tried killing yourself?" he asked. Well, he yelled it. Loudly. There was nothing but shock in his mind. He didn't know what to feel. Should he be angry with her? Something inside him was so disappointed. It was selfish, but he'd hoped he was reason enough for her to… Stay alive. Effie just nodded and pulled back her arm, he realized he'd been gripping it tightly.

"I would have succeeded if it wasn't for Cinna breaking down my door. He had me admitted to a private hospital,"

"A mental institution?"

"Yes. I tried again while I was there. I don't know Haymitch, it seems so stupid now … Now that you're here… But I couldn't see a way out of this, if nothing helped,"

"You're fucked up, Trinks," Haymitch said to her.

"I was admitted to the institution for a month, then the President ordered me released because of the games, but they didn't allow me to go on the train as I'm under daily suicide watch," she told him.

"I can't believe you'd do that to yourself," Haymitch said with a sigh. He wasn't nearly drunk enough to cope with this.

"You hate me," She sounded pathetic. She was pathetic. One thing was an escapism, pain. Suicide. Suicide was something completely different.

"I don't hate you, Effie, I wish I could have helped you,"

"You helped me more than any one in the world," She'd sunk completely together, looking like nothing but a pile of emotions.

"But we have to focus on the games, Haymitch," she said conclusively. There was nothing more to say. She was ashamed, Haymitch could see it in her eyes and it made him a bit better. Like when he'd do her check ups last year and she would be directly embarrassed to show him any new cuts. Somewhere underneath the unpleasant blushing and shaking she might just regret doing what she'd done. At least that's what he chose to believe.

"Please don't cry…" he heard her say and as he raised a hand to his face he felt the tears silently making their way down his cheeks. He embraced her and felt more home than he'd ever done in this place, when she put her arms around him.

"Don't ever try that shit again, you hear me? Come beat me up or something, yell at me, do whatever, just… Don't ever think you're allowed to leave this world without me knowing," Haymitch mumbled almost threatening into her ear. He felt her tense up a bit. He knew she hated swearing. Sometimes she did it herself because she was too angry with him to not call him an asshole, but he'd never heard her swear in front of others. She was like a kid, never quite grown from the age where rules meant everything.