It's day 2 of Hayffismas Week on tumblr so I wrote you a little Christmassy oneshot post-mockingjay. The Haymitch Who Stole Christmas: This is the day for grumpy Haymitch who would rather not be dragged into this humbug!

All I want for Christmas is you

One morning two days before Christmas Effie walked into Haymitch's house and found him lying on the floor.

Now, Haymitch on the floor wasn't exactly a new experience for District 12's former escort but she had seen him not 10 minutes ago and not even Haymitch Abernathy could get blasted that quickly.

She saw snow dripping from his boots, probably the reason he tripped and Haymitch met her gaze, sullenly where he lay on his back cradling his arm.

"Haymitch, when you are in so much pain you can't even get up from the floor that clearly indicates you have to go see the doctor." It was the fourth time she'd said it.

He didn't answer that. Of course she knew what it was all about. Haymitch hated hospitals. And how could he not? They only reminded him of his time there after his Games and when he was forced to dry out while locked away in Thirteen.

"No need," he muttered, his face white as a sheet. "Feelin' much better actually. "Doesn't hurt as much as before."

"Mm, that's very convincing," said Effie. "Then you won't mind me giving you a hand-up…"

"Back off," Haymitch said when she took a step closer.

"Haymitch. You dislocated your shoulder when you fell!"

"All your fault then."

Effie sat down on a stool next to him.

"It was just meant to be a surprise," she said. "And if those Christmas lights were such a thorn in your flesh why didn't you just tell me? Then I would have been there holding the ladder in place for you."

"You don't go sneaking up anything else, Eff. I mean it. It's just a waste of time and money."

"I haven't and I won't", Effie sighed. "No more Christmas decorations of any kind. Now will you please just come with me to the doctor? The longer you lie here the more it will hurt and if you wait with treatment you'll just risk permanent damage." Haymitch didn't respond; just stared sulkily up at the ceiling.

Effie pulled herself off the stool and sat down next to him on the floor. Haymitch's eyebrows crease together at this very un-Effie like behavior. Floor wasn't exactly clean.

"I'll tell you what," she said. "Let's make a deal. You will let me take you to the hospital and then afterwards we get back, when we are all alone, we'll open a bottle of wine and… I will do that thing that you like."

"What?" Haymitch frowned. Effie smiled and leaned in, whispering it in his ear.

"Really?"

"Mm-mhm. We can do it all night, if we want."

Haymitch slumped his head back against the floor. He gave a deep sigh.

"Fine."

xXx

"Well, Mr. Abernathy. Since there aren't are fractures I'm going to use a procedure known as 'reduction,' meaning your arm will be gently manipulated back into its shoulder socket."

Haymitch sat grim and sour and shirtless on the hospital bed. Effie stood by his side, holding the improvised sling that she'd made for the journey here. His shoulder looked absolutely gruesome. All swelled up and covered in bruises and it jotted out in an angle that was all wrong.

"It might take a few minutes", the man in the white coat continued. "I'm afraid it is rather painful but we have effective pain-killers."

"No pills," Haymitch muttered. With all that booze still running through his veins it would be a very bad idea. "Just pop the damn thing back in place."

"Of course."

"Do you need a hand to hold?" Effie suggested.

"It's alright," Haymitch muttered but felt a lot less confident than he sounded. Fuck, this won't be a picnic. "Let's just get this over and done with."

And the doctor took his arm from where Haymitch had kept it cradled close to his body and then, slowly and gently, he began to rotate it around the shoulder joint.

"Aagh!" Haymitch threw his head back. "Gaaawd!" He grabbed Effie's hand, almost crushing it in his while every swearword known to man came pouring over his lips. The pain stabbed his shoulder like a thousand darning-needles and radiated all the way down his side up to the point he thought he'd pass out.

He didn't know how long it lasted. It felt like three or four years. But then, just like that, his shoulder went back into its socket. Haymitch released the breathe he'd been holding, feeling how the pain faded to just a dull throbbing.

"Fuck, that's better", he panted and he was so relieved he didn't even realize he was still holding Effie's hand. Something they never used to do in public.

"Now, we ought to do another X-ray," the doctor said. "To make sure it's..."

"No way," Haymitch shook his head. His face was dripping with perspiration. "Thanks. But it's fine. Pain's almost gone," he said and this time it wasn't a lie.

The doctor helped him into a proper sling, keeping his arm in place and told him to at least rest a moment before they went home.

Effie had a seat next to his bed once they were alone again.

"I never meant to make your Christmas worse," she said and lent him her handkerchief.

"It's not you," Haymitch mumbled, wiping the tears and sweat from his face. "Really, Eff. Christmas lights weren't that bad it's just… we never really celebrated Christmas here. For most people it was just another day when you starved. Seeing those few with means put up their Christmas decorations and all the extravaganza we were forced to watch on television it was like a mock to the rest of the district who would go to bed just as cold and hungry that night as every other night. And… old habits die hard, you know. It's not that I don't want you to have a Christmas."

Effie reached out her hand and caressed the back of her fingers softly against his hot, damp cheek; a gesture he couldn't help but like when it was Effie who did it.

"I don't need any of that," she said. "I don't need a tree or a mistletoe or Christmas lights. I just want to be with you. You and Katniss and Peeta. That's everything I could ever ask for."

xXx

Days are short in December. When Haymitch and Effie walked out the hospital doors the sky was sprinkled with stars. The night was chilly with the promise of more snow to come but Haymitch, with his arm in a sling, still lingered.

"Come on, sweetheart," he said. "We'll get one of those."

And with that he walked her over to the middle of the square where they were selling lush, fragrant, deep green Christmas trees.