Chapter Forty-Three

Babied him?

The nerve of her, he thought crossly. That was uncalled for.

Hadn't he spent the better part of his time for the past two months by her side helping her with the twins as best as he could? Was she going to conveniently cast that aside just because he was drunk this one time?

Haymitch felt slighted. A frown marred his face as he used the shelf in the cellar to pull himself up to his feet. He would have a word with her. She does not get to act all mighty as if she could do no wrong in this house. Haymitch staggered towards the door and carefully navigated his way up the stairs to the upper floor with his blurry eyesight. He could hear the children crying.

Shut up, he wanted to scream. Shut up. Shut up.

They have done nothing but cry since they were born and it was beginning to grate on his last nerves.

Somewhere at the back of his mind, he was aware that he was taking out his frustration with the law on to Effie and the boys but he was too intoxicated to stop himself.

He meandered towards the nursery, determined to get to the twins and put a stop to the racket. It hurts his ears, made him feel as if his ear drums might burst. Where was Effie? Couldn't she hear them crying?

"EFFIE!" he shouted, his words slurring together. "The children! Are you deaf, sweetheart?"

Haymitch rounded the corner and nearly collided into Peeta just as he stormed out of the nursery to get to him.

"Stop it," Peeta commanded. "Be quiet. You shouting like this isn't helping."

"What's going on?"

"I could ask you the same question," Peeta crossed his arms.

Haymitch sniffed and rubbed his blood-shot eyes with the back of his hands. He made to move past the boy but Peeta's hand was on his chest, stopping him and preventing him from going further.

"Don't," he shook his head. "Not when you're like this."

"Someone's crying," Haymitch countered.

"Effie is nursing one of them. Katniss got the other. You're no use to them when you're drunk."

Katniss emerged from the room just then to see what the commotion was about, holding a wailing infant in her arms. She looked distressed as the child continued to cry despite her efforts to calm him down. Haymitch couldn't tell who it was, not in this state, but all he knew was that he needed to get the child away from Katniss. He was certain that she was upsetting the baby. If he was sober, he would realise how ridiculous he sounded but everything appeared to be a threat to him at the moment, even Peeta's hand on his chest. He shoved it away.

Haymitch stumbled towards Katniss with his arms outstretched to take his son from her.

"Give him," he gestured, growling under his breath. "Pass him to me."

Katniss step aside, deftly avoiding his outstretched hands. "No. Have you seen the state you're in?"

"Haymitch, stop," Effie hissed, stepping out of the room looking livid. "You will stop it this instance. Katniss dear, please, could you take Ethan? I'll take Tristan from you – he's hungry. Peeta, please, please, take Haymitch out of here. I don't know what you can do with him but please, just away from the children."

Katniss and Peeta moved into action almost immediately. With Prim holding on to her hand, Katniss and Effie disappeared back into the nursery. Haymitch turned the knob, determined to follow but he found the door locked.

Dammit, Effie!

While he was distracted, Peeta moved quickly, grabbing a hold of his arm and dragging him out towards the front door.

"Unhand me, boy."

"Nope," he said. "You heard what Effie said."

XxX

Peeta sat him down in the living room of his house and took a seat across from him, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he waited Haymitch out patiently.

Haymitch breathed deeply, trying to get himself under control. He stared down at the young man, his face flushed and eyes glittering with anger. His head was throbbing and every little noise seemed to have been amplified somehow.

"You're not going anywhere," Peeta shrugged. "You might as well stop glaring at me as if I brought this on you."

No, he brought this on himself. He made Effie locked him out of the children's nursery. Haymitch slumped against the sofa as the fight left his body. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"They rejected it."

"Your appeal?", asked Peeta with a note of surprise.

Haymitch nodded.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he went on. "But it's no excuse to –"

"I know," Haymitch growled. He didn't need to be lectured. "I know."

The house was quiet. Haymitch had his eyes closed, having covered it with his hands, his mind going through the scene at his house. Peeta studied him silently.

"Are you angry that you failed or are you mad because now you're going to be stuck with them?" Peeta jerked his head towards Haymitch's house. "Have you ever thought about what would happen to them if your appeal had not been rejected?"

Haymitch lowered his hand and narrowed his eyes at Peeta. "What are you accusing me of?"

Peeta shrugged. "Nothing in particular. Just that, I don't think you've properly considered how it would affect your -" he stopped abruptly. "Look, I know you've never wanted the pregnancy and that all along, your plan was to get the law repealed so you and Effie could go your separate ways. But things are different now. You have - "

"Don't you think I know that?" he snapped.

"Which leads me to think that you've gotten yourself drunk because you simply can't handle it; can't have the appeal rejected because that means you'd have to live with Effie and her children for an indefinite period of time. You don't want them, is that it?"

"Don't presume to know me," he snapped. Haymitch snorted then and looked at Peeta derisively. "Her children? They're my children, too."

"Good to know," Peeta nodded, moving towards the upper floor of his house. "You can stay here until you're sure you won't scare your kids or your wife. You may sleep on the couch."

"Fine," he muttered.

Peeta returned moments later with a piece of blanket, a pillow under his arm and a strong cup of black coffee. Haymitch nodded his thanks but said little else. The coffee had begun to clear his mind but just when he thought that years of being a drunkard and making a fool out of himself had thicken his skin, he found himself mortified even slightly embarrassed to be in this situation with Peeta. The boy was better at this while he… Well, to put it rather mildly, he felt like a drowning man. Haymitch was never designed for marriage or children. He was far too broken to have a normal family life. The Games made sure of that.

Haymitch's eyes flickered up to Peeta when he made no move to leave the miserable man alone. He looked down at Haymitch pensively, hesitating briefly.

"If you're going to take your anger out on them, send Effie and the twins back to the Capitol. They don't deserve to be punished by you that way. Now that you and Effie already have children, I don't think the government will be particularly bothered if you're not staying together. They have other couples to check on."

Peeta, Haymitch realized, was only trying to help. Not Haymitch in particular, but Effie who had been with him in that prison in the Capitol, a history that he knew little because Effie would not talk about her time as a prisoner.

"I'm not… I won't send her back. She's still my wife."

Even if Haymitch felt inadequate, lost and hopeless at this, he wanted to try. They are his responsibilities. When he dies, he wanted to be remembered for something. Being remembered as a father was better than the Victor who won the Second Quarter Quell. There is victory in that (he hopes) that the Quell had never brought him.

XxX

He could have used the time to catch up on his sleep but the silence of Peeta's house was not something he was used to. Haymitch tossed and turned on the couch, wondering if the children had gone to sleep. He thought of Effie, alone in their bed and he wanted her warmth. The room felt cold even with the blanket.

It was three in the morning when Haymitch had had enough and left Peeta's house for his own.

The nursery was quiet. Both boys were sleeping with Ethan snoring lightly. Effie was asleep with the audio monitor next to her on the pillow. Haymitch drew the covers back and slid in next to her, pulling her against him to bury his face in her hair. He felt her fingers stroking the arm across her stomach.

"Did I wake you?" he asked.

"Mhmmm."

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I should never have -"

"You were horrible. What you did was wrong, Haymitch."

Her voice was gentle but firm, chastising him quietly without making a scene. Years ago, she would have handled it differently. He had never forgotten how incensed she had been when he cheered Katniss on for shooting an arrow at the Gamemakers.

"I know," he pressed a kiss to her temple. "You're angry with me."

Effie turned in his arms. "Of course, I am. You were rude to Katniss and to me. She was only trying to help me. You were always there to calm the boys down but it fell on her to do the job today. They may only be two months old, Haymitch, but they know she's not their father. It doesn't bring the same kind of comfort. You frightened off poor little Prim, too."

"I'll talk to them tomorrow," he tried to appease her.

"Well, that's only proper."

"They rejected the appeal," he told her abruptly, pulling away from her. "I got a call from Plutarch's office and I…."

Her eyes softened. Effie stroked his cheek soothingly. Months ago, he would have pushed her hand aside, not wanting her pity but the comfort she brought was something he welcomed now.

"I'm sorry, Haymitch. I know how much you wanted it to work."

"Yeah."

"You can appeal again, can't you?" she asked.

"Yes," he murmured, pressing another kiss on her brow. "It's going to work. It has to."

"It's just taking longer than expected," she nodded, turning away from him. The arm around her stomach tightened as he held her close. Effie let him as she stared absently at the moon outside their windows, appearing and disappearing from view whenever the curtains fluttered. She would never tell him about the twinge in her heart or the ache in her soul as Effie realized that Haymitch will never give this up. She shut her eyes, refusing to let the tears fall. "I'm still angry with you. You won't ever behave in that manner in front of the children. I won't allow it."

"Lock me in the cellar," he whispered, half mockingly. "Until I've sobered up."

The party was supposed to be in this chapter but it would disrupt the mood of this chapter if i added it here. So baby shower in the next chapter!

I know it turned out to be mainly focused on Haymitch but I think it's interesting to write him being at war with himself - wanting Effie but not wanting her at the same time. fickle, stupid beings, as Haymitch himself said in mj.

Anyway, please review, i'd appreciate it.