Okay, I'm back. thanks to the reviews asking me to update and of course, to all the other reviews I've had so far. Thank you, it's been very helpful to know your opinion and it keeps me motivated. :)

Chapter Twenty-Six

The hallway was dark, illuminated only by a single overhead lamp which cast a long shadow on the floor as he walked unsteadily on his feet. He had gone off to drink after the talk with Effie and had somehow lost track of time. After everything she had told him – her feelings, her fear, how hurt she was – Haymitch kept away from her, unable to bring himself to even look at her. When he agreed to marry her, he told himself that he would protect her, keep her away from the men who had petition for her but he had hurt her and rather cruelly at that.

Haymitch had no idea how long he had been roaming the house but his feet brought him here again at last. He stopped by the door and moved the liquor in his hand behind his back. Just to be on the safe side. Slowly, Haymitch turned the knob and pushed open the door to their bedroom quietly, poking his head in to check on Effie.

She was asleep with the parenting book she was reading earlier lying face down on her protruding belly. He gravitated towards her, his hand reaching out for the book, making a mark on the page before he kept it away on the nightstand. His hand hovered over her belly, hesitating to himself just before he laid it flat on her stomach like he had in their hotel room in District Four. He waited and was about to pull his hand back when he felt it, a soft pressure against the palm of his hand, a kick.

He managed a grin which spreads across his face as he felt the flutter of movement beneath his palm. "It's gonna be okay, peanuts . Your mother and I, we'll… we'll keep you safe," he muttered quietly to himself. While he wasn't sure how exactly they were going to accomplish that, all he knew was that there was a growing sense of responsibility as Effie's due date approaches and a strong need to keep his family away from harm.

Effie mumbled something in her sleep as she shifted and turned sideways, forcing Haymitch to pull his hand away. With a shake of his head, he turned off the bedside lamp, tucked the covers under her chin and left the room, heading for the front porch.

XxX

The space next to her was empty with the pillows untouched and Effie knew Haymitch did not sleep that night. Even if he did, he probably slept someplace else. Effie rolled over and sat at the edge of the bed, pausing to take a deep breath. She gave a little wince when she felt the twins moved inside of her. The movements were getting more frequent especially in the morning and in the evening, and it was something she definitely needed to get used to.

"Good morning, my sweets," she whispered quietly, rubbing her belly in circles. "I think your daddy's angry with me because he's worried about you two. He won't say, of course. I'm going to find him, he's got to be somewhere in this house."

The first place she checked was the nursery since that was where she found him the last time they had a disagreement. It was empty and he was nowhere in sight. Effie gave a loud sigh. The empty room was another reminder that she still needed to purchase some furniture. Taking one careful step at a time, Effie made her way downstairs and began the tedious search for her husband. She found him outside, sleeping on the chaise, snoring softly with an empty bottle of gin clutched to his chest. An empty whiskey glass was on the floor next to the chaise and his uncapped silver flask was lying on its side. The wind blew gently in her direction and carried with it the stench of liquor.

"Haymitch," she poked his shoulder sharply. "Wake up!"

Haymitch let out a grunt. She propped her hand on her hips and snatched the bottle from his slackened grip. The movement startled him and he jerked upright, eyes wild as he scanned his surroundings.

"Shit, Eff," he exhaled loudly when he realised it was only her and not the monsters haunting his usual dream.

Now that he was awake, Effie slowly lowered herself on the wicker rocking chair next to chaise.

"You spent your night getting drunk."

It wasn't a question, more like a statement. Her voice was steady as she said it. No anger or resentment.

Haymitch, she noted, at least had the decency to lower his gaze. He picked up his silver flask off the floor and slid in into his pocket. When he finally looked up, Effie was watching him.

"That's hardly news, is it, sweetheart? I'm always drunk," he told her.

Haymitch pushed himself up, swaying unsteadily on his feet. He pressed the heel of his palms into his eyes, shaking his head as if to clear his vision.

"I know you're always drunk," Effie said. "But you haven't … You haven't been this drunk, too drunk that you passed out for a few months, Haymitch. Why are you doing this now?"

"Oh? Oh, why am I like this? I've always been like this. You married a drunkard or have you forgotten?" he spun around, sneering at her with his face inches away from hers.

His breath reeked of alcohol and Effie recoiled. She didn't quite know where his bitterness was coming from. When she woke up that morning, she was not expecting this from him. Had he not held her as she cried yesterday? Told her that all they needed to do was to be careful with her pregnancy? Was he angry that she did not want to share her burden in prison with him?

She frowned, annoyed at Haymitch's unpredictable mood swings. And they say, my hormones are acting up.

"No, I know who I married," she jutted her chin out stubbornly. She stood up to face him. "The man I married cannot process emotional pain without the aid of alcohol. So the fact that I found you drunk could only mean one thing."

"And what's that, sweetheart?"

"You care about us," she spoke softly. "If not me, then at least, your children and the thought that – that something could happen to them made you panic so you went back to the only thing that you knew; the only way you know how to deal with the pain."

It must have hit a mark because his mouth snapped shut. Haymitch blinked and stared at her as she stared back.

"Haymitch, I know I've hurt you when I didn't tell the risks I have with this pregnancy. I'm sorry," she spoke softly. Effie stretched out her hand and tentatively laid it on his arm. When he didn't pull away, she moved closer. "I'm their mother and I promise, I wouldn't let anything happen to them."

"You can't be sure of that," he mumbled.

"No, I can't. But I know you'd be there," she gave him a half smile. Her fingers grazed the stubble on his cheeks. Reluctantly, he forced his eyes to meet hers. "I know you, Haymitch. You'd watch me like a hawk – you wouldn't let me out of your sight until you've seen the twins alive and healthy a few months from now – and it'll annoy me because I think you're being overbearing but it's just who you are, isn't it?"

"Is it? Since when did you become an expert on my personality, Effie?"

"I've worked with you for so many years, I've learnt a thing or two," she teased. "You don't like to read the morning papers because it's depressing, two thirds coffee and one third alcohol each time, you don't like your yolks runny, you hate it when I waste food, the sound of children crying makes you run faster than if I were to announce that Felix is moving in with us and your favourite –"

"Alright, alright. Show off."

Effie giggled. Her movements were careful and deliberate, as if she was dealing with a wounded animal. Effie moved closer and wrapped her arms around him. His reaction was instantaneous. Haymitch went rigid before his muscles relaxed and he wrapped his own arms around her waist, burying his face on the crook of her neck.

"I'm sorry, Haymitch," she repeated, stroking his hair soothingly. She felt him nod in response and the arms around her waist tightened.

"I can't stop drinking," his lips moved against her skin. "I – It's been too long and I can't just…"

"I know. I've never asked you to quit, didn't you realised that? You don't have to be this drunk, Haymitch, not drunk enough to pass out. Just … for their sake, you can cut down on it, yes?"

"I'll try," he said, lifting his head up to look at her.

She gave him a grateful smile but it slid off her face when he suddenly stiffened in her arms. Effie saw the misgiving in his face, the same expression he had when he was woken up from a nightmare and trying to orientate himself with reality. Haymitch pulled away, bringing the arms around his neck down to her sides before letting go of his hold on her.

"I – didn't mean to," he gestured at the space between them. "My head feels like exploding. I'm gonna …"

With that, Haymitch left, supporting himself on the walls as he went inside the house. She could hear him bumping into the furniture. Effie gaped at him; it was always like that with Haymitch. Just when she thought they were making progress, he took two steps back.

At least, he's no longer angry, she sigh.

XxX

The next couple of days went by relatively normal for the pair of them. Effie took heed of Doctor Bell's advice by staying at home and resting. She occupied herself by browsing through catalogues for furniture that Felix had given her previously and had even managed to rope Haymitch into giving an opinion or two.

He perused the newspapers in the evening, scanning for anything that could help him with the appeal; for suicides, or abandoned babies or family violence. He used to discuss the news he learnt with Effie but as her pregnancy progresses further, he refrained from doing so. It was not because he wanted to keep things from her but he thought there was no use discussing Panem's problems and making her upset. If she happened to read the papers and came across an article that bothered her, she would discuss it with him and he would talk to her about it.

There was a scowl on his face. The people in town had given him a wide berth on that particular afternoon. Haymitch had gone off to the town market with a list of items Effie needed in order to restock their kitchen. She had wanted to come along but he was adamant about the fact that he was very much capable of purchasing milk and bread and long beans on his own. As he walked out of the post office after delivering Effie's order of furniture to Felix, Haymitch found his path blocked by a man he used to drink with at the bar. He had taken one look at the paper bag in Haymitch's arm and burst out laughing at Haymitch mockingly.

"Did your Capitol doll managed to domesticate you, Abernathy? That the reason we don't see you around the bar anymore?"

"Move," Haymitch commanded.

"Who'd have thought Haymitch Abernathy would live under the thumbs of a woman? You're turning soft, aren't you? Such a shame. Well, don't worry. Once you get rid of her and the brats she's carrying, I expect I'll see you around with a drink in your hand again."

That was when he lost it. He swung his hand. His fist connected with that man's jaw. Haymitch heard a satisfying crunch as he crumpled on the floor.

"I know you're not the brightest of the lot but didn't your mother ever teach you never to insult a man's family? You talk about her like that or if you so much as call my children 'brats', I'll be happy to rearrange your face," he threatened.

His knuckles were starting to bruise and he made a mental note not to let Effie see it. He didn't feel like explaining anything to her.

There were other things for him to worry about when he returned home. Effie was not in the living room, so he assumed she was upstairs in their bedroom reading or taking measurements of the window in the nursery for curtains she had wanted to order. Haymitch was just depositing the grocery on the kitchen island when he heard her screaming.

XxX

Effie nestled the bundle in her arms close to her chest. There was another infant wrapped in a tattered blue blanket next to her on the floor. The shaking woman choked back a sob and laid a trembling hand on top of the infant. The baby was quiet, not a single sound escaped from his blue lips.

"Please, sweetie, just hang on a little while. You'll be okay, I'll get you out. Please -" Effie broke off, staring up at the figure casting its shadow across her with astonished eyes that turned bright and hopeful when she recognised who it was. "Haymitch," she breathed out, "Haymitch, please."

He walked in, swinging the cell door open. In her relief, Effie did not think to ask how he could easily unlock the metal door. She handed the small infant she was cradling protectively in her arms to her husband. Effie was on her knees, fully intending to scoop up her other child when Haymitch's hand closed around her upper arm, his grip tight like a vice.

"He's dead, Effie. Leave him, he's gone," he told her urgently. "We have to go. Now."

"No - Haymitch what are you saying? He's your son, you can't leave him! Please, please, we have to -" she pulled her arm away from him, resisting his effort to drag her out of the cell. She broke free easily with Haymitch struggling to keep her in control and balancing his only surviving child in his arm.

"Effie," he whispered, angry and desperate. "Listen to me, sweetheart -"

His words hung in the air and when Effie looked up, she saw why. Haymitch was staring down the barrel of a Peacekeeper's gun. He turned towards her, their gazes met and then she screamed. He jerked his head back in surprise, blood trickling down from the small bullet hole in his forehead. The look of surprise was still etched on his face as his body fell backwards and hit the ground with a thud. There was a second 'pop'. Bright scarlet liquid spread through the yellow dirty blanket she had wrapped around her son - the one Haymitch was carrying.

The Peacekeeper turned towards her with a glint in his eyes. He took a step forward as Effie moved a step back, stumbling over the infant on the floor. He lowered his gun, aiming it at her belly and cocked his head to the side, waiting for Effie to scream or to beg for mercy. She looked down on her rounded belly and then up to the Peacekeeper again, the confusion written all over her face.

She was still pregnant. But there were already two children…

A sharp piercing pain erupted from her midsection. Effie clutched her stomach and sank on the floor, her eyes wide with horror. She felt the cold metal of the gun against her forehead.

The pressure lifted momentarily. She felt herself struggling against something that was crushing her, holding her tightly together. Her eyes flew open and she gasped, desperately trying to fill her lungs with air.

XxX

"Hay - Haymitch," she clutched the front of his shirt, sobbing and gasping. Her pupils had dilated. Effie was shaking and sweating with her hair matted to her face.

"It's just a bad dream. You're alright. You must have fallen asleep. Just a dream, Eff."

"No. Everyone's dead. You, our children… They killed our sons. I was in Snow's prison... But… I don't understand, Haymitch. I had the twins with me and you were there but I was still pregnant."

"We had two boys?" his brows crinkled.

"They're dead. He shot them."

"Effie, it's a nightmare. It's not real."

"I never had nightmares like this, Haymitch. Never. They're so… It's so much worst."

"You've been dreaming more than normal, haven't you? You've told me about some of it at times. Remember that dream, when you brought two toddlers to the meadow or the one with Finn playing with two girls or how about the one where Felix visited those two little boys with toys he bought from the Capitol? It's normal to dream in your condition, Effie. Something about it being more vivid … We read about it in your books."

"No, Haymitch, you don't understand. This one felt very real. They killed you first. You were carrying one of the twins. And then-" she hiccupped. "Can you check? If they're still alive? Haymitch, please, it's … I'm sorry… I'm sorry - I should have listened to you, I should have followed you out of the cell."

Her thoughts were breaking and fragmenting. One moment, she appeared to understand that it was a dream but the next, she was talking as if she was still living her nightmares.

Right now, Haymitch had no idea what she was blabbering about but he had to do something before he lose her, before she retreat into her mind and spend hours quietly staring into nothing. It happened a few times before; during the first few weeks of their marriage but he had thought that that was just normal behaviour since they weren't talking much and during the three weeks of them not talking to one another when Effie found out she was pregnant. He knew that she had set outside at the porch in the middle of the night doing nothing except to stare into the darkness.

He mentally labelled it as 'Effie's episode', something that happened whenever she was extremely upset or stress. They never talk about it given her penchant to avoid any and all topics concerning her imprisonment. The strain of the past week must have triggered her memories of prison to send her into this state.

With a measure of delicacy, he pried her fingers away from her face and tilted her chin up, urging her to look him in the eyes.

"It's not real," he stressed. "This -" he brought her hand down between them and laid it flat against the bump on her stomach - "this is real. They're safe inside of you."

For a moment, she stared at him - her eyes were blank and unfocused. It unnerved him so much because he could usually read her like an open book, knew what she was feeling simply because her eyes could be very expressive. Haymitch gave her a little shake.

"Come back, Effie. Focus on me," he commanded her attention. Haymitch applied a little more pressure, pressing her hand against her belly.

There was a jolt as she blinked in disbelief the moment she felt the slight kick under her palm.

"They're - they're alive. I felt them move."

Haymitch made a sound at the back of his throat; a chuckle and a sigh of liberation rolling together . "Yes, that's what I've been trying to tell you."

She smiled up at him; the relief flooded her being. Effie settled back with her hand still resting protectively on her stomach. "You're right. It's not real"

"No, it's not," he agreed.

He brushed her hair back tenderly and dropped a kiss on her forehead, surprising them both. When he realised what he had done, Haymitch cleared his throat and straightened up.

"Your ah… your grocery's in the kitchen," he told her. "You can put it away."

"And what happened to your hand?" she asked, pointing to his bruised knuckles.

"Your fault. Knocked into the stairs banister when I was rushing to get to you the moment I heard you screaming," he lied.

Effie eyed him dubiously but said nothing. He helped her off the bed and down to the kitchen, wondering how Effie was going to make it in the Capitol alone with their children when her nightmares were still plaguing her. There has to be a way for him to keep them safe and have the law rescinded at the same time.

I spent hours editing this chapter because there was just something I didn't quite like initially. I think it's okay now, so I decided to go ahead and update it or it'll never get updated if i keep editing. I'm trying to make Haymitch seem more human because he is, he has his worries and his insecurities and children was never part of the deal so.. I hope i got that across. Leave a review!

Anyway, I hope you've all survived the Catching Fire movie. Just too much feels especially with Hayffie. If you want to talk CF with me, i'd be more than happy to fangirl with you.