Anonymous requested: "Effie wakes up screaming some nights and a four-year-old Olive asks her daddy why one morning." (AN: I listened to so many four year old conversations on youtube to try to get a young child's dialect down, it's not even funny).
He could feel it in the back of his throat. The familiar ache. The burn. Swallowing hard, he shakily grabbed the coffee pot and poured himself a tall cup of the black liquid. It wasn't the alcohol his body so craved, but it was better than nothing. He took a long sip and closed his eyes, feeling the warmth spread throughout him. She had been doing so well. No episodes for weeks. But last night something had triggered it and he was still in awe that no authorities had burst through their front door from how loud Effie's screams of terror had carried. Exhaling, he gulped down the rest of his drink. At least he had managed to convince her to sleep in this morning. After all, it wasn't like either them got much last night.
"Daddy?"
Through bloodshot eyes, Haymitch gazed wearily at the kitchen entrance. There, still adorned in her nightgown, his young daughter stood watching him worriedly. Forcing a small smile on his face, he poured himself another glass of the much needed caffeine beverage and took his usual seat at the table.
"Half Pint," he nodded, taking another sip. "What are you doing up so early?"
"I couldn't sleep," the four year old replied, walking over to the table. "So I came down here."
"That makes two of us," Haymitch grunted, draining his cup. "You hungry? Think there's some bread left in the cupboard. Mom's asleep so you'll have to wait a bit if you want a full meal."
Olive shook her head, "I'm not hungry." There was hesitance in her voice, Haymitch knew something else was on her mind. "Daddy? Last night…I hear-ed…I hear-ed mama yelling really loudly," she spoke quietly, picking at a loose string on her sleeve cuff. "I hear-ed mama yelling a lot and-and she sounded scared."
Haymitch sighed, setting his mug down. "Sorry you had to hear that, kid. Mom was just having a bad dream last night is all. She's okay now."
"A bad dream?" Olive asked. "Why? About monsters?"
"Something like that," Haymitch nodded. "Sometimes even moms have nightmares. But that's why they have us. To remind them that none of it is real."
"Mama tolded me that monsters was not real," Olive explained. "Why she still have bad dreams?"
"Sometimes even mom forgets her own words," Haymitch replied, pressing his lips together. "Happens to the best of us."
"Oh."
Haymitch watched as his daughter looked towards the staircase curiously. It was simple to call Effie's episodes nothing more than mere night terrors. It made them sound innocent in a way. Olive was too young to understand the reason her mother sometimes woke up in the middle of the night shrieking or why they had to leave the Mellark household early some dinners because Uncle Peeta "got sick". It wasn't really a lie. Just better to tell it that way. One day she'd learn the truth, but for now, monsters and stomach aches would replace imprisonment and hijacking. Haymitch inhaled, pushing the thoughts from his mind momentarily as he rose from his seat.
"Hey," Olive turned and looked at him. "How about you and me go down to the market? Get something nice for breakfast and bring it home so your mom doesn't have to do much today? I'll even let you get a piece of candy. It'll be our little secret."
"Yeah!" the eagerness flooded into Olive's expression as she nodded. "Yeah! Okay, daddy!"
The sun had just barely started to break over the treeline as he and Olive began their stroll down the empty road. Haymitch looked over his shoulder, his eyes fixed on the top left window of the house. The window that marked his and Effie's room. For a moment, he paused, wondering if he should really stay instead of go. It was only when he felt the soft tug on his hand did his attention turn to the small child beside him.
"Don't worry, daddy," Olive assured him. "The sun is out. Monsters don't like the light. Mama will be okay."
Haymitch gave a halfhearted smile,"You're right," he mumbled. "Let's get going."
Throwing the house a final glance, Haymitch followed his daughter towards the town. Olive was right about one thing, everything was always better when it was light out. The old victor took a deep breath, the crisp air feeling good against his tired limbs. She was going to be just fine. No matter how dark it got sometimes, the sun would always rise the next day.