Chapter Seven

There was a knock on her door and Effie who was bent over her desk at the factory cataloguing medications to be exported out, looked up. Two government officials stood outside her office. Their postures were rigid and although one of them wore a smile on her face, Effie couldn't help the chill washing over her.

"Please come in," she beckoned. "This is a surprise. I wasn't informed anyone from the Capitol would be here today. You are here to inspect the factory, I presume?"

"No, Mrs. Abernathy. We're here for you."

"Me?" she stammered. "I'm afraid I don't – "

"You're due for a blood test."

Effie put down the pen she was holding on the polished table and straightened the papers carefully in a bid to buy more time as she tried to calm the pounding of her heart. When she met their gazes again, Effie tried to exude a false sense of calmness.

"Due for a blood test?" she repeated.

"Yes. Under the law, a couple is subjected to random blood testing to determine they are not under the influence of any drugs or medications that could hinder pregnancy. Surely, you are aware of this?"

"I – Yes, of course. Is Haymitch required to go through with this, too?"

"Yes. We had him tested at the hospital before we came here for you. Please come along, Mrs Abernathy. We'll be taking you to the hospital. It wouldn't take more than an hour of your time."

Effie was furious. If Haymitch had been tested first, couldn't he at least have the decency to call and warn her? Granted, it wouldn't do her much good because there was nothing she could do to stop it. The results of the blood test would reflect the truth that she was using a form of birth control and they would both be screwed to hell and back. The officials would be sure to inquire as to where she had managed to obtain those pills since it is now illegal to sell it to anyone married under the law. Effie would be forced to tell the truth about the black market operations in which transactions involving the trade of contraception and birth control pills took place.

The test itself was over in a blink of an eye. What follows was a stretch of extremely uncomfortable moment as they waited for the results. The two government officials stood in front of Effie at the hospital corridor, one of them had a clipboard in her hands as they asked her a series of exceedingly intrusive personal questions.

"How often do you and your husband engage in sexual intercourse?"

"Erm – Well… I …, "she stammered trying hard to answer the question with as much dignity as she could. They had been married for six months and Effie was sure she could count on her fingers the number of times she and Haymitch had actually been together. "You don't expect me to keep counts of the number of times we slept together all these months!"

"Of course not, Mrs. Abernathy. If you could tell us the frequency in terms of the number of times per week, that would suffice."

"Oh," she blushed. "I would say about, umm, twice a week?"

"Mrs. Abernathy, you understand that we asked your husband the same questions?"

"Did you, now? What was his answer?"

"I quote – 'three to four times a week and you can't say that's not healthy.'"

"He's exaggerating, I'm sure!" Effie laughed nervously. "I believe it's closer to twice a week."

"Very well, I'll note down your answer," she said as she scribbled on the paper. "The results will tell us if you are taking some sort hormonal birth control. Haymitch is clean except for the alcohol in his system. Barring the need to send you for a full medical evaluation, I hope you can answer this truthfully. Are you on any form of birth control?"

Effie blinked and her mind wandered back to when she was a teenager having to sit through a sex education talk. They had mentioned the different types of birth control and she struggled to remember them because she only knew two – the pills and condoms.

"No, I'm not on any. And neither is Haymitch."

"Have the both of you talked about children yet?"

Effie peered at the clipboard on the paper attached to it. The list of questions seemed to go on forever.

"I think we better find some place to sit," she suggested, leading the way to the end of the hall where another woman could be seen with two government officials answering her own set of questions. They exchanged an awkward smile.

Fifteen minutes later, they were done and Effie heaved a sigh of relief, as she sagged on the couch. She wiped her brows and her clammy hands on her skirt, suddenly nervous when she remembered there was still the result of the test.

Effie closed her eyes and an image of her standing on the edge of District Twelve came into view. Haymitch was beside her with a duffel bag in his hand. They stared out over the woods, to the trees spread out far and wide in front of them. The two government officials waited silently for them to cross the borders of Panem into the great unknown, stripped off their citizenship for having contravened the law.

"Mrs. Abernathy," someone called out. "Effie."

A nurse stood in front of her carrying a brown envelope that no doubt contained the dreaded result. Effie knew the nurse. She was from District Seven and had moved here with her husband. She smiled kindly at Effie and handed her the results. Effie opened it with shaky hands and the now familiar nauseated feeling she's had for the past two weeks returned with full force. She very much felt like fainting and wondered if it would all be a cruel dream once she regained consciousness.

XxX

Haymitch was just unlocking the front door when he heard the familiar clicking of high heels against the pathway leading up to the house. He glanced over his shoulder to look at Effie. Her face was ashen, her eyes looked lost and since she didn't greet him, he doubted she was aware of his presence at all.

Opening the door to the house, he held it open for her before locking it behind him. He watched as she went through the motion of hanging her coat and putting her keys in the bowl. Haymitch cleared his throat impatiently when she just stood in the middle of the hallway blocking his path. She jumped, startled and looked at him as though she only just realized he was there.

"I really don't care if you're gonna stand there all night and guard the door, but I have things to do," he said, walking past her.

Then he doubled back and stood in front of her, suddenly remembering the test he had to go through earlier that day. "Eff, is this about the test? Are you alright? Did they find out?"

She shook her head and he growled in frustration. He had asked her three questions and he expected three answers, not a shake of her head which failed to shed light on anything.

"Speak up," he commanded.

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"No, I didn't take the test."

Haymitch's eyes narrowed. "You got off? How the fuck did you manage it?"

"I- I told them I was not feeling well, that I was sick with flu and they told me they would come back next week," she lied.

Haymitch heaved a sigh of relief.

"Alright. Good thinking. We need to get you off the pill until they're done with their blood test."

XxX

Effie was already asleep by the time he entered their bedroom with a bottle of whiskey in his hand that night. The lamp on his night stand was still on and he picked up the documents Plutarch had sent over yesterday, intending to go through it before he sleeps, if he could sleep.

Pushing the covers back, he slid in, resting his head against the headboard as he worked through the report all the while chugging his whiskey steadily. He was one third through when his eyelids began to droop but a small whimper from Effie jolted him awake again.

Haymitch looked at her as she continued whimpering. The bed sheets were fisted tightly in her small hands, her petite body trembling even though it their room wasn't cold and her face was scrunched as though she was in a great deal of pain and then Haymitch heard it, the soft whispers making its way past her lips. She was calling out for her sister, and pleading for her own life.

"Wake up," he shook her shoulders. She didn't rouse so he shook harder. "Wake up, Effie. It's a nightmare."

Her hand came up and connected with the side of his jaw. It wasn't painful but it caught him by surprise. He put away the papers he's been holding on the night stand using his whiskey bottle as a paper weight and then slid a hand below Effie's neck, pulling her closer to him. She thrashed violently at the demons haunting her dreams. Haymitch pinned her hands to the side and held her, her back against his chest.

"It's a nightmare, Eff. Come on, sweetheart, wake up," he mumbled into her hair, his lips close to her ear.

He felt her calm in his arms and just to be certain, he repeated his words again. "Just a nightmare, you're safe. You're in Twelve."

Her muscles slackened and after a few disoriented seconds, she blinked her eyes open and turned to look at him.

"Haymitch?"

"I hope the sight of my charming smile calms you down."

"I – Did you just make a joke?" her voice was soft.

"I am capable of it," he replied. "You had a nightmare."

"It happens when I'm stress."

"Stress? What about?" he searched her eyes, the blue of her irises were nearly gone as her pupils dilated from fear.

"Being married to you can be stressful," came her easy banter.

He smiled to himself. Haymitch wanted to ask her more. He was curious to find out if their work with trying to repeal the law was stressful for her or if it was her job at the factory but her breathing had evened out by then. Effie had fallen asleep in his arms, and despite himself, Haymitch didn't pull away. When he woke up the next morning, he found Effie still wrapped around him with her arm across his chest and her head resting on the crook of his shoulder.

XxX

"The house is in a mess, Haymitch!" she nagged at him that morning. Effie moved around the living room in a blur trying to put things back where they belong.

"Leave it, then! Don't clean the house if you're just going to complain about it to me. I don't want to hear it."

He walked out of the room, determined to put enough distance between him and Effie.

"Don't walk away when I'm talking to you!" she screamed at his retreating back. Frustrated, Effie took a coaster and flung it in his direction. It hit him on the back of his head and he whirled around, the fire dancing in his eyes.

For a moment, Effie almost regretted it. Almost.

"I work during the day, and at night I helped you with your stupid cause trying to set things right and it would be nice to come home to a clean house instead of a dumpster! I just cleaned the house two days ago and how could it be so messy! Your shirt," she picked the dirty button down shirt and threw it in his face, "goes to the laundry basket!"

Haymitch advanced towards her, slowly and almost predatory in nature, the shirt gripped tight in his hand.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he asked through gritted teeth.

He's seen Effie angry before. He's seen her when she was stress, when she was irritated with him but she had never taken to throwing things at him.

"I'm just so tired!" she sank on the sofa with her hands covering her face. Through the space between her fingers, he caught her muffled voice, "I'm tired, Haymitch."

Her breath hitched.

Is she crying?

"Was it me who asked you to find employment here in Twelve? Did I put a knife to your throat and make you clean the house? No. You did it all on your own accord, so quit complaining, sweetheart."

"If I don't clean the house then who will? You? Unlikely. The day you voluntarily sweeps the floor or change the bed sheets is the day you pledge to be sober and I don't see that happening anytime soon! So yes, I have to do all these," she shouted, jumping to her feet in anger. "All I'm asking is that you put things back where you –"

His eyes flashed in anger and he was about to retort back when Effie dashed past him. She covered her mouth with her hand and seconds later, he heard her retching in the bathroom. He followed her. Haymitch found Effie with her forehead resting against the cool ceramic toilet bowl as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"What the hell?" he breathed out in disbelief, his whole body thrumming in dread of the news he was convinced he didn't want to hear. She turned around when she heard him.

"Go to the doctor, Eff. You're having some kind of stomach flu," he instructed. Haymitch left her sitting on the bathroom floor.

"Haymitch," she called out, running after him. "They did the blood test on me yesterday."

He stopped in his tracks but did not turn around.

"You lied to me," his voice was low and dangerous.

"I was afraid. I didn't know how – Haymitch, please, look at me," she pleaded.

He turned his body slightly and waited for her to speak. His muscles were taut and his lips had thinned out in impatience.

"I'm pregnant," she admitted, her voice was so soft but he flinched all the same. "Please say something."

"Did you do this on purpose?"

"No," she said affronted. "I still took those pills, Haymitch. I tried!"

"What the hell do you mean you tried?" he shouted back.

"I meant I tried! It's illegal everywhere and it's not easy to get those pills. I missed a few days – two or three at most - and it was supposed to be okay, Haymitch. I swear it. The risk of pregnancy wasn't that high – "

"Then why didn't you tell me? I could have – There is a fucking apothecary down at the corner, Trinket! You could have told me you couldn't get the pills," he pointed angrily to himself. "And I could have called Katniss' mother to ask her which herbs would help and you could have gone down the apothecary and get it!"

"I- I never thought of that," she spoke quietly, biting her lower lip to stop it from trembling.

"This was not supposed to happen! This wasn't part of the plan. I told you - I told you - the plan since the very beginning! You stay on the pill, we work on this law, it gets repeal then you and I will go our separate way but you've messed it up," he breathed heavily, running his fingers through his hair in distress. "It's like you're trying to condemn me."

Haymitch realized that he was being exceedingly cruel but he was too shock and unprepared for this. A child was never supposed to be in the equation. It would be easier and cleaner if it was just the two of them but now… He was supposed to be a father? How does one even do that? This was too much for him to handle and he felt so suffocated.

Effie had backed away from him, leaning against the wall, rubbing her hand up and down her arm. Her lips quivered and her eyes watered.

"Don't cry," Haymitch snapped at her. "All these years, after all your schedules and your perfect planning down to the minute details and you still managed to make a blunder out of a simple plan. It makes me wonder if there is anything you're even good at other than making yourself look pretty."

His cheek stung where Effie had struck him. The bracelet he had given her months ago hit his cheek with such a force and the ring on her finger felt cool against his skin.

"Your plan remains. When this law ceased to exist, I will take my child and we will leave, don't worry about us," she hissed and walked out on him.

Alright, I was so excited to post this chapter. My only worry is Haymitch's characterisation. He obviously wouldn't be taking Effie in his arm and spinning her around in circles knowing she was pregnant because from previous chapter, he already stated he didn't want children. I wanted him to be shocked and angry but I'm not sure if in the process he had turned out to be too unpleasant. :/ Anyway, please review and I hope you've enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

P.S - LadyNobleSong, I read your review & laughed. Are you a seer?