Chapter Forty-One

In the dead of night, the sky was clear and on the porch in Victor's Village, a lone man sat nursing his drink from a silver hip flask. The starlight twinkled in the distance, the moon was full and bright up in the sky, and if Effie was out on the porch with him, she would have marveled at the beauty the night had to offer but without her, it was quiet save for the sporadic hooting of an owl perched on Effie's apple tree. Still painfully sober, Haymitch only had one thought – his sons.

Effie was vocal about missing them and despite his outward appearance, he wanted them home, too. The constant trip to the hospital and having to deal with a moping wife was starting to wear him out.

He was still sitting on the wicker chair by the porch the next morning when the postman made his usual round. This time, he stopped by Haymitch's house with two medium sized boxes. Haymitch's initial thought was that Felix had sent more gifts from the Capitol but upon closer inspection, the official seal of the Department of Social and Family Affairs quickly put that notion to rest.

It was ironic how the maternity packages arrived before the boys were even home. Haymitch stacked them one on top of the other, carried them into the house and over to the nursery where Effie had spent the night curled on the armchair. One of the boy's blankets that they had brought home from the hospital in exchange for something new was pillowed under her head.

He brushed her hair back and she stirred at his touch, cracking an eye open to see him standing over her.

"You've never slept with one of my shirt as a pillow," he teased. "Should I be jealous?"

"That's because I put your shirt on," she yawned, covering her mouth daintily with her hand. "It smells like them."

Effie handed the blanket to him and he wondered if she meant for him to smell it. He took it from her and spread it over one of their cribs before gesturing to the parcels.

"Are those…" she looked at him questioningly, "the gifts?"

She managed to make the word sound twisted and undesirable, spitting it out like an insult. Haymitch nodded as he extracted his knife from his pocket, slitting the seal apart in a swift movement. Her gaze was on him instead of the parcels.

"What?"

"Are you…," Effie started. "You can't carry that knife with you or have it on you with the boys around the house. It's not safe."

"It won't hurt them. It'll be right here," he lifted his shirt up, tucked the knife on the waistband of his trousers. "Besides, they won't exactly be able to grab it."

"Not now, not yet but what about when they're older?" she countered, trying to reason with him.

A lock of his dirty blond hair fell into his eye, promptly swept away in an irritated gesture. Haymitch let out a sigh. Effie wouldn't understand. It was foolish to place such security and value on an inanimate object but his knife had been his companion far longer than the alcohol had been. He had accommodated to her request not to sleep with his knife when she was pregnant and Haymitch wasn't very sure what she expected out of him now. Was he supposed to keep it lock in a drawer, someplace the twins could never get to? It didn't feel safe. He didn't feel safe.

Haymitch smoothly deflected the attention off him, pulling out a random object from the box.

"Ah, look," he said, holding out a blue feeding bottle for Effie. She took it from him and turned it in her hands while Haymitch peered into the box. "I'm guessing it's a… baby starter kit."

It didn't take long for them to work through the contents of the two boxes individually - mittens, baby clothes, diapers, pacifiers - with Effie giving little comments here and there about them. It was only when Effie had begun to put them away into the appropriate drawers and cupboards that Haymitch remembered the two envelopes that came with the parcel, the edges wrinkled from where Haymitch had stuffed it into his pocket.

Passing them to Effie, Haymitch walked over to one of the cribs and ran his hand over the wood panels, gripping and shaking them slightly to ensure that they were sturdy. He did not want the crib to fall apart and injure the boys.

"It's the baby bonus scheme," Effie said, drawing his attention away from the crib. "It says here that we can collect the first cash gift at the Hall."

Haymitch scratched his cheek. This was not new information to him. Plutarch and himself knew of the scheme but had avoided discussing it in any of their appeals knowing that at the moment, the scheme was foolproof. It would not have been wise for them to vilify the scheme until they could identify real major issues with it. Haymitch was certain that a problem will soon emerge where the baby bonus is concern.

"There is a subsequent cash payout, isn't there? What… when they're three?"

"There's one now, at birth, followed by when they're six months old, at three years, at five and the final one will be when they turn seven," her eyes flickered up to him as she read it out. "An account will be set up for each of the boys – they will match every dollar that we save and the money can be used for anything the child needs; healthcare and education primarily – it's the growth account. It isn't bad, Haymitch. We should start saving and it'll double because the government will match whatever we save."

"They're that desperate to boost the population, aren't they?"

It was a rhetorical question, one that he was not expecting a response to. Haymitch scrunched his nose at a sudden thought; his lips parted slightly, ready to tell her what he was thinking but decided against it. There was no need for him to tell her of the bank account he had set up for the children in the Capitol when he was there during the first meeting with President Paylor.

XxX

It was natural the way she carried Ethan in her arms. Then again, she has had practice with the kids' little girl so he shouldn't really be surprised but it was different somehow, watching Effie with her own son. It brought something out in her; made her appeared softer and gentle, radiant in a way he couldn't put into words if he tried, and yet, he wouldn't cross her. There was a fierce protectiveness surrounding her that assured him of his untimely demise should he or anyone ever try to harm her children.

When she smiled up at him, her eyes compelling him to approach her, he did so without question. Effie leaned against him and it occurred to him just then that this was the happiest he had seen her since he brought her to the Capitol when she craved for strawberries. She cradled Ethan closer to her chest, kissing and nuzzling the boy's cheek every so often.

Despite being born one and a half weeks ago and having been transferred from the incubators to the cribs two days ago, Haymitch still had not held any of his sons in his arms. He was glad that they spent most of their time sleeping which gave Haymitch an excuse not to carry them and disrupt their sleep. But Ethan was awake and Effie was determined for Haymitch to stop toeing the line when it came to his children.

Effie turned slightly, holding out her arms to him. Her intention was clear. She wanted him to take Ethan from her but he took a step back instead.

"I think he likes being close to his mother," he reasoned.

"That he does but I should think he also wants his father to hold him. You'll have to sooner or later, Haymitch," Effie smiled encouragingly. "Here - it'll be okay. He's a good boy, an angel, there's nothing to be afraid of."

The sense of déjà vu washed over him. It had been that way with Prim and the girl had cried when he carried her.

"Be good for daddy," Effie whispered conspiratorially to Ethan. The boy blinked.

Haymitch did not move, standing still and as stiff as a board. He glanced down in his arms to see a pair of grey eyes looking back up at him. It was still slightly unfocused and he wondered if the boy could see him now that he was nearly two weeks old but Ethan started squirming then, having sensed his father's discomfort.

"I can't," he whispered hoarsely. It was the worst possible time for it to happen but the flashback in his mind terrified him – it was him carrying his younger brother over his shoulder, running around the house despite his mother's warning only to trip and sent his brother sprawling across the floor with a huge bruise on his head. "I'll hurt him."

"No, you won't," Effie laid a comforting hand on his upper arm. She was quick to calm Ethan down, stroking the boy's cheek with the back of her finger and cooing softly in his ears. It worked; the boy stretched lazily, his leg pressing against Haymitch's arm. It was only then that he dared to move, extracting a hand out from under the boy, allowing Ethan to curl his fingers around his own.

"You're doing fine," she assured him. She guided him slowly around the room, walking in circles and soon enough, Haymitch found himself unconsciously bouncing the infant quietly in his arms. "Look, you've put him to sleep," Effie pointed out.

He glanced down to see that Ethan had indeed gone back to sleep. There was a small proud smile on his face. "I did."

"See, you're not that bad. Congratulations," Effie laughed lightly, standing on tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. "Let's bring them home, Haymitch."

XxX

The empty space in the nursery where the twins' name was supposed to be was duly painted by Peeta who came over a few days before the boys were due to be released home. The wall mural of the four train cars were filled with each of the Abernathy's name.

"I'll paint another train car if there's another child on the way – no problem," Peeta winked.

"Thank you, Peeta. But not anytime soon," Effie said.

Haymitch grunted. "Not ever."

Effie shot him a dirty a look but Haymitch was saved by Prim trying desperately to reach out as far as she could to touch Tristan in the crib.

"Not yet, angel," Katniss said. "Don't wanna disturb his sleep, do we? How'd you tell them apart? It's hard to tell from their personalities when all they're doing right now is sleep and cry."

Haymitch shrugged. "Not so bad," he answered. Haymitch tilted Tristan's head gently to the side with a finger to show Katniss a mark just below the child's right collarbone. It looked strangely like a half crescent moon. "Tristan's got a birth mark."

"It'll get slightly easier when they're a little older. They'll have different personalities, preferences and behaviours, I'm sure," Effie added. She laughed then, glancing at Haymitch before turning back to Katniss. "Haymitch forbids me to dress them in matching outfit, said it's ridiculous. But I'm starting to think he's just worried he won't be able to tell who is who."

Haymitch scowled at her for making fun of him in front of the kids, prompting Peeta to change the subject.

"Heard there'll be a party," Peeta said cheerfully.

Effie nodded enthusiastically. "It won't be for a few more weeks until we've settled for a bit."

"Of course. I think I should start thinking of cake design for the party. My gift to you," he added quickly when he saw that Effie was about to protest. "I must admit, I am looking forward to meeting this cousin of yours – Felix?

Katniss raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes," Peeta replied pleasantly. "Haymitch told me about him when he sent you away to Four with this cousin in order to paint this room. I heard he couldn't get along with Johanna. Odd, isn't it? Men usually get along well with her. Anyway, that'll be exciting to see, when they're here."

Katniss and Effie threw Peeta a dirty a look, both remembering the incident in the lift during the Third Quarter Quell. Effie only knew about it in prison when Johanna herself had told her how she had stripped in front of them. She told Effie of their reactions and the look on their faces, describing as best as she could to try and jog Effie's memories of them. Effie remembered very well that day in that prison cell, starving and dehydrated, and repeating over and over again how their faces had begun to fade from her memories.

XxX

When the moon rose and night fell over District Twelve, a new set of worries descended upon the house. It was quiet and peaceful, with the boys asleep in their cribs. For the third time that night, Haymitch rounded up on Effie, asking the same question yet again.

"You sure it will be alright to leave them alone?" he whispered quietly. "One of us should probably stay here."

"Yes, Haymitch," Effie was patient with him, assuring him once more that there was nothing to worry about. She adjusted the baby speaker monitor that she had place near their cribs and pressed the other speaker into the palm of his hand. "If they cry, we'll hear."

Still, Haymitch left the door to their nursery slightly ajar, not all trusting Effie's fancy baby audio monitor.

"There's no need for this monitor," he muttered, climbing into bed and leaning his head on the headboard. "I can stay awake."

Effie fluffed her pillow, giving him an incredulous look. "How long are you planning on staying awake? Till they turn five? Till they're teenagers?"

He fixed her with a glare but Effie was unfazed. She draped her arm across his mid-section and rested her head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat which has always brought her comfort.

"You should try to get some sleep," Effie told him quietly. "They're just next door. You won't be getting much sleep from now so you should take what you can get."

He nodded distractedly, not that Effie could see him. His mind was elsewhere, thinking of the dreams he had been having lately. His fingers played with her hair, curling and uncurling around the soft locks.

"My nightmares are different lately…it has been for months," he hesitated. "Ever since you told me you were pregnant, I don't dream of them much."

Her breath hitched. Haymitch seldom, if ever, talked about the horrors that plagued his nights. She would tell him about her nightmares and what she saw but he would not talk about his. If Haymitch knew anything about her time in prison, it was from what little she told him about her nightmares. He, on the other hand, saw no real need to burden her with his own nightmares. Whatever she knew was from years of working with him and hearing him screaming for Maysilee, for Myra, for his mother and brother, and pleading with the dead tributes he couldn't save. From there, Effie came to the conclusion that Haymitch never left the Games, and that his nights were filled with the arena.

If he was talking about his nightmares now, Effie did not want to say the wrong things and have him shut her out again. Getting him to open up about himself was akin to waiting for the rain during a drought.

"What do you dream of?"

Haymitch glance at her briefly, stormy grey eyes meeting her calm blue ones. He swallowed thickly, his Adams' apple bobbing up and down.

"You," he said finally. "I dream of you, Tristan and Ethan."

"That's nice, Haymitch," she smiled.

"They're nightmares, sweetheart. They're never nice," he told her. "None of them are pleasant. I could never…. The dream changes - play out differently on days - but it always ended up the same."

His hands were shaking when he reached over to pull the drawer out, taking his silver flask from within. He uncapped it almost desperately, tipping it back and gulping down mouthfuls of whiskey, feeling the liquid burnt down his throat.

Effie said nothing, allowing him this moment but she pushed herself up, resting on her elbows and watched him carefully. When she felt that half the contents were gone, Effie gently laid her hand on his to take the flask away.

"You don't need this, Haymitch," she told him softly, "you have me."

"But I don't," he swallowed. "Not in my dreams. I lost everything like I've always have. You, the children, everyone."

"That's not true. They're just dreams. We're not going anywhere, I promise."

He gave her a tight smile.

"I mean you died," he said flatly. "Sometimes, I see you in the arena. You were beautiful, sweetheart. But I can't trust anything beautiful in the Games. You were a mutt – the same bird that killed Maysilee - and I killed you. I had to. And then you'll morph from the bird and into yourself, and you're shouting at me. Screaming and screaming because it's my fault you died and my fault the children are orphans."

"Haymitch, it's just a – "

"Yeah, yeah, they're not real," he nodded. "Go to sleep."

Effie wanted to say something, anything at all that could comfort him but the words were stuck in her throat. The moment passed and Haymitch retreated back into himself, pulling her to him. The way he was holding on to her, tight and snug against him, as if he was trying to ground himself to what was real, cracked her heart. She let it pass, not wanting to press him any further.

"You should sleep, too. If they wake up - "

"I'll wake you up, sweetheart."

I know there isn't much going on for the past two chapters and that things are moving at a steady and slow pace but I promise that I have exciting things plan up for the upcoming chapters. I wanted to focus on the fact that these two characters have a traumatic past and that it is still affecting them on some levels. Anyway, I think there will be a bit of tension and drama in the next chapter.

And, I did not come up with that baby bonus scheme (i just changed the name). That scheme is in place where I am at because short of a marriage law, my government is desperately trying to encourage us to repopulate the country.

In the meantime, please, please review. It helps knowing what you're thinking or expecting.