A bit of an early update this week. Enjoy!

Chapter Eighteen

Haymitch raised a hand in a silent goodbye as he watched the two figures growing smaller in the distance from the door. When they finally turned the corner and disappeared from view, he went back in.

His eyes took in the sight before him; his empty coffee mug on the table, the morning's newspaper folded in half marking the page where Effie had last read it before Haymitch even woke up and the dust of silver glitter staining the floor in front of the mirror where Felix had stood to fix his glittery black hair.

Ignoring all of those, Haymitch was acutely aware of the silence that had settled into the house; an empty house - save for him and his geese outside. Finally, he smiled to himself, some much needed peace. It wasn't like he had not been alone in the house since they were married. He had, of course, when Effie went off to the medicine factory for work but this time, it was different. She wouldn't be coming home that evening. She would be gone for the week and it was by far the longest stretch of time he was in the house without Effie. He looked forward to it.

He sauntered over to the sofa, put his long legs up on the coffee table knowing Effie would not be there to reprimand him and took a long draught from his whiskey glass. It felt good; the freedom to drink anywhere he like in the house without the constant worry of Effie losing the contents of her stomach.

Katniss called the house the next day, wondering about Effie's absence.

"She hasn't been over since yesterday. She alright? Ever since Prim was born, Effie's always stopped by to visit."

"She's away with her cousin. I send her off," Haymitch informed, opening his first bottle that morning.

"Is that you apologizing to her or you having had enough of her and sending her away?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I send her off to take a break, a vacation, if one can call it that. Did that woman tell you everything that goes on in my house?"

"No, not really," she replied and Haymitch could picture Katniss rolling her eyes. "Effie just mumbled something about you being an idiot – what's new? – saying all the wrong things. Don't need to be a genius to know you both fought."

XxX

Considering that it was a Sunday, Haymitch had planned to sleep in. There was nothing that would disturb his sleep – no Effie asking him to get up or the sound of Effie retching in the bathroom or Effie walking around the house doing whatever she does. If Haymitch was uncomfortable with how much his life had turned into a whirlwind of Effie this or Effie that he tried to ignore it; it was easier for them both if he did not acknowledge the fact that Effie had now become an integral part of his life as much as he had become a part of hers.

But for all his planning to sleep in, Effie's alarm rang shrilly at seven on a Sunday morning causing the startled man to jerk awake. The curses flew from his mouth at having his sleep interrupted. He slammed the alarm clock shut, knocking several off Effie's things off the night stand in the process.

There really was no point trying to go back to sleep now that he was awake. Lazily, Haymitch stretched his tall frame across the bed, clearly enjoying having it all to himself. The frustration of not having to wrestle for the covers with Effie in the dead of night lifted his mood slightly. Finally, he pushed himself off the bed, ready to at least begin his day.

Haymitch crouched down on Effie's side of the bed to pick up the few things he had accidentally knocked over to ground. His fingers plucked the sonograms off the floor, looking at them curiously. The last time he saw a picture of a sonogram, there was only one but there were now two additional pieces.

One was familiar to him. Effie had showed it to him before her insane craving set it and so he set it aside. He turned the other two sonograms over and saw the date Effie had carefully written on it. The most recent one was dated about five days ago. He studied the black and white photo, frowning as he tried to make sense out of it. Haymitch compared it with the first sonogram he saw and then his eyes widened in delight when he was finally able to discern the shapes and understood what it meant. When placed next to each other, the two blots he saw on the black background made so much sense since the first sonogram only had one.

There you are, he thought in amazement, unable to tear his eyes away from the picture. He tried to make out the shapes of a leg or a hand or even a head but he didn't quite see it yet. Perhaps it was still too early, he tried to convince himself.

The feeling of enlightenment was a strange thing. It was like someone had lifted a visor from his eyes and he was now able to see clearly something that had been hazy before. He was not in denial about Effie's pregnancy. After his initial resistance and shock to the news, he had accepted it. It was difficult not to after he had sat with her months ago on the bathroom floor during one of her morning sickness, got dragged all the way to the Capitol at rude hours in the morning, entered a baby shop for the first time ever in his life and it was difficult to ignore the obvious baby bump under Effie's clothes lately. There was just something surreal about finally being able to see them on the sonograms and knowing that the two different heartbeats he heard at the clinic belonged to them.

With a slight shake of his head, Haymitch tucked the sonograms carefully in front of the picture frame and left the room.

XxX

The can of paint was heavy – was the first thought that crossed his mind. But if a pregnant woman could somehow purchase it and lugged it up the stairs into the spare room, then there was really no reason why he couldn't. The second thought that fleeted through his mind was that he was definitely too old to be painting the whole room. Still, Haymitch was nothing if not determined.

During his teenage years, before his life changed, Haymitch had taken on odd jobs for that extra piece of bread or a block of cheese. He had helped paint one of the houses, a lifetime ago but a middle-age man had shown him the ropes and he was quick to pick up the skills. Haymitch was certain he still remembered the basics of it. In any case, it was just painting - it couldn't possibly be that difficult.

He started by spreading the canvas, covering the entirety of the floor. Haymitch carefully plastered any holes that had inadvertently appeared on the walls and when he had finished touching up, Haymitch began to paint only to be interrupted by Peeta who unexpectedly skittered to a stop at the doorway, not expecting Haymitch to be in that room.

"You weren't downstairs. Was just about to look for you at your room," he explained. "Woah, this will be the nursery, I presume?"

"How'd you – never mind."

"Need help?"

Haymitch gave a lopsided smile - if the boy was offering… why not? Peeta disappeared only to return a few minutes later with an extra paint roller he had kept around from when he set up Primrose's nursery. He had seen her nursery and with a painter for a father, it was beautifully decorated with an exquisite feature wall that boasted bits of the meadows from District Twelve painted on the lower half of the wall. The other walls had a border of purple primroses.

As they went to work painting the room, Peeta told Haymitch how Katniss had seemed so lost when she stepped into Primrose's nursery.

"You could see that she was miles away and I was right. She looked around and turned to me, and said – "Prim would have loved this room". I surely hope so, I thought, and then I realized she was talking about her sister," Peeta smiled ruefully. "She would have pampered my daughter, if things had been different."

Haymitch nodded, uncertain of what to say. His mind wandered to his own family; what would his mother say if she saw him now, if his brother would have wanted a nephew or a niece, or his father… Would the old man be excited to meet his grandchildren if he were alive? He snapped out of his trance when he felt the paint dripped onto his hands. No point wondering about it now, he would never know.

Katniss popped over the next day to see what her boys were up to. She caught Haymitch's eyes and gave him a knowing smile which he returned with a scowl. He thought he would never see the finish line but after one and a half day of hard labour they were finally done. Haymitch sat on the floor in exhaustion, his eyes taking in room which had been made bright by the turquoise walls. He felt immensely relieved that he had completed what he set out to do. It still looked horridly plain, in his opinion, so unlike Prim's nursery.

"Is this why you sent Effie away?" Peeta asked, wiping his brows with the back of his hands.

Haymitch spared Peeta a glance. "No," he lied.

"Oh. I just thought … I send Katniss to the bakery whenever I painted Prim's room. Didn't want to risk her inhaling the smell, you know?"

He watched Peeta clearing the area; putting the lid back on the paint can, collecting the paint brushes and rollers they had used and peeling off thin layers of adhesive tape off the walls which they had put up earlier to prevent the paint from smearing. Whether he felt as though he owe Peeta for his help or simply because he needed to unload it off somewhere, Haymitch found himself telling the boy the truth.

"We fought about this room," he said slowly. "I said something - made her angry enough that she didn't want to turn this room into a nursery any longer. It was her idea in the first place and I guessed, I must have pissed her off real bad. Don't bother, she said."

"So why then?" Peeta gestured towards the room and the dirty brushes in his hand.

Haymitch shrugged. "Kids gotta sleep somewhere – might as well make it as nice as possible. Effie may be angry now and say not to bother but I know her. She'll only complain later on. Between her complaining and little buggers crying, it''ll only make me insane."

"Ah, you send her away with her cousin so that you could work on this room without her knowing, then? Somewhat like a surprise, I supposed? Never thought you capable of it," Peeta teased.

"A surprise?" Haymitch asked, looking affronted. "Of course, not! Who do you think I am? I have no business planning surprises for anyone."

Peeta smiled. "Why don't you just admit that maybe you feel guilty? And you're trying to make things right?"

"So what if I am?"

"That's a start," Peeta nodded, coming to a stop in front of a blank wall by the window. He looked at it in a way that only an artist could, picturing things Haymitch couldn't see. "You know the meadow I painted over Prim's room? I could do something similar here."

"Not the meadow. Effie would want something different than Prim's room."

"Wouldn't dream of it. It's got to be something gender neutral. Why wouldn't you want to know the gender?" Peeta asked curiously.

"Not me - her," he answered.

When Haymitch returned to the room, he had a bottle in his hands. Leaning against the window with his legs crossed at the ankle, Haymitch watched Peeta working diligently on the designs.

"You ever wondered how you're going to tell your daughter about you and Katniss?"

"Hmm?"

"The Games, the Rebellion. They'll find out…. School…. History classes. They'll come home and they'll ask questions. And what do I say?"

"The truth," Peeta paused to look at him. "That you fought to make things better, you're still fighting to make this world better."

He scoffed. "That'll be a hell of a conversation, won't it? Telling them they only existed because of a fucking law."

"Haymitch…"

"What'd I say if they ask why I killed people? Cause I needed to survive?" he sneered. "Sounds selfish. What about their mother? Her role in the Games. Too much, isn't it? I'd be surprise if the twins would even consider us their parents when they found out the shit me and Effie had done."

"We did what we had to do and they're your children, they'd understand. It won't be easy. They'll have a lot of questions, no doubt, but those were things in the past. It's a better life now, one without the threat of death over their heads. They'll understand," Peeta asserted.

He said nothing to that instead Haymitch greedily sought the comfort of the alcohol in his hand desperately trying to quell the uneasiness that was slowly taking over.

XxX

He counted the days.

It was something he never realized he did until he caught himself sighing out loud when the blasted calendar on the wall informed him that there were still a few more days before Effie was due to return. Instead of enjoying the peace, Haymitch was restless.

The quiet irritated him as much as Effie's shrill voice did. It was odd not to hear Effie's soft footsteps walking around the house or hear her quiet private conversations with the twins. He was told that it was important to create a bond as early as possible and had gone so far as to insist that the twins could hear her and would be able to recognize her voice.

"They'll recognize yours too if you only speak to them, Haymitch," she had said.

He gave an undignified snort and shot her an incredulous look, whispering under his breath about how she had gone mental.

Effie did not forget about him. She was too well-mannered to completely ignore him while she went out to enjoy herself. Effie had called the first day to tell him that she had arrived safely. Since the few times he was away from Effie during his trip to the Capitol, conducting the interviews at the districts and now this, he realized that it was different listening to her voice over the phone as compared to having her around, watching her hands move wildly about her whenever she tried to make a point or the emotions playing across her face as she talk to him.

He remembered all too well the first few months of their marriage. There was surprisingly little conversation between them, something he was grateful for considering Effie's propensity to go on and on at times. The change in their relationship was progressively slow as they learnt to accept the other's presence in the house and especially so since she became pregnant and he was dragged into this foreign world of morning sickness, and unpredictable mood swings. She began talking to him; it started with her telling him about her day at the medicine factory and pointing out random facts about the baby growing inside of her. While his sarcastic, dry wit were not ideal conversation materials but it was still better than having a husband who did not talk to her at all.

XxX

His fingers felt for the empty space next to him and his eyes flew open. Haymitch fumbled for the knife he kept in the drawer at the night stand - Effie had forbidden him to sleep with his knife under the pillow for fear of accidentally stabbing her stomach whenever he was startled awake – with his heart beating frantically in his chest. It took him a while to remember that Effie was safe with Felix and that she had not been taken while he was sleeping. Instead of the usual nightmares he had lived with for nearly all of his adult life, having his wife and children taken away from him seemed to be a recurring nightmare lately.

His movements were automatic, driven solely by the adrenaline still coursing through his blood as Haymitch threw his clothes into a duffel bag hurriedly. With a soft click of the door behind him, he set out to meet Effie.

He didn't make it far. He was about five minutes' walk away from his house when Haymitch came to a sudden halt. What are you doing? The voice sounded harsh in his head, its tone mocking. Haymitch wasn't sure what he would tell her. He had a nightmare? Gritting his teeth, Haymitch spun around and walked back inside.

Haymitch was furious with himself. Instead of taking off like that because he had a nightmare, he should be counting the hours he had to himself before Effie returned to pester him once more. With nothing to do and in an attempt to get rid of the images from his dream, the glass of whiskey found its way into his hands and no sooner had he made himself comfortable on the sofa, the phone rang.

"For fuck's sake," he grumbled loudly. Haymitch tensed as waited for the admonishment that always followed whenever he cursed - "The babies can hear you, Haymitch!" – but only the persistent ringing of the phone echoed throughout the house.

"Yes?"

"It's Effie," Felix gushed over the phone, his voice void of the ever present optimistic tone that Haymitch found annoying. "You better come quick."

I know this chapter is kind of Haymitch-centric but it's unavoidable. I've more or less written the next few chapters and things will get pretty interesting then! In the meantime, leave me a review and tell me what you think of this chapter ... or what is wrong with Effie?

Thanks for reading, and all your reviews, not to mention putting this story on alert/favourites. :)