Taste of Strawberries

by HayffieBird

Four years have passed since the end of the war when Effie returns in to Haymitch's life once again. An old friendship is renewed. Will it lead to something more? Meanwhile Panem has entered a new era. The rebellion's over, the borders are open but in the shadows, anger and mistrust are smoldering. Something that will affect Haymitch and Effie's life in a way they never saw coming.

4. Chapter 4

Trigger warning for this chapter - the very last scene.

Chapter 4
Wrong side up

The little girl hopped down the stairs, her black shoes echoing around the stone walls as she went.

"Hi, miss Effie!" she called so it could be heard long way, waving her little hand when she saw her teacher come through a corridor. Effie smiled at Gracie who hurried over to her, cheeks rosy when she said,

"It's mummy's birthday!"

"I know," said Effie. Gracie had hardly talked about anything else all day.

"We will have lots of ice cream," said Gracie, unable to contain her joy. "I get to eat chocolate ice cream and vanilla ice cream and green ice cream!"

Effie crouched down before the child.

"Better close your coat, it's chilly outside," she said while the child prattled on, and she buttoned Gracie's pink tweed coat and pulled her matching hat back slightly since it always had a tendency to go down over her chocolate brown eyes. "They're coming to get you now?"

Gracie nodded.

"Just don't forget…"

"No running down the stairs," said Gracie.

"That's right, sweetie," said Effie and the child giggled.

"Bye, miss Effie!" she said and gave her teacher a quick hug, disappearing out in the sunshine.

Normally Effie would have taken a cab home, since it was quite a walk from the Academy back to her apartment but she could use the fresh air and the sun that had finally returned. They were almost in the middle of March, that time of year when you didn't know if the breeze brushing your face promised warmer weather or more snow.

She'd been thinking a lot about Haymitch these past few months; uncomfortably often. She would go by her business, attend her parties, educate her girls and then a small detail, like a Seam gray sky or a Mockingjay hoping around the pink and orange paving stones and she was there again.

She hadn't heard from him, though, save that one nightly phone call about a week after she left when he slurred about the eight bottles of whiskey she'd promised him.

Not that she was any better. She'd spoken with Katniss and Peeta a few times over the phone but she couldn't even write Haymitch a proper card following his crate of bottles; only signing it with "Kind regards" because she was so embarrassed.

The morning after New Year's when she helped Katniss and Peeta set the breakfast table, she'd secretly hoped Haymitch would sleep in, maybe even for the rest of the day. It was awkward enough to be around the children, especially Katniss who seemed to want to forget the incident at the Hob even more than Effie did.

But just as they had a seat at the table Haymitch appeared, taking a chair, not meeting eyes with anyone.

Peeta was a sweetheart filling the uncomfortable silence and she gratefully engaged herself into the conversation, talking about the weather, about the snow lantern outside the house, about what a nice New Year's party it had been – while he was kind enough to keep from mentioning those first few minutes of the actual new year.

Throughout breakfast – that was technically her birthday party, if only a simple one at her own request – her eyes kept drifting back to Haymitch who sat there tinting his blood-red juice with the content of his silver hipflask, looking like he could just as well have forgotten about it all. And she was thankful the thick layers of powder on her face hid the hotness flooding her cheeks at that possibility, unsure if she was annoyed, hurt or just relieved.

Haymitch had had roman hands and russian fingers before, of course. He could become slightly affectionate towards her when he was drunk. But she'd dealt with his comments and pushed away his hands, taking it for what it was. They teased and they flirted but they never crossed the line drawn between them.

But in that small space between the toilet and the sink it was like her brain had stopped working, just wanting him so badly she was willing to disregard all rules of proper behaviour and let him take her against the wall.

In the light of day it was easier to dismiss what had happened as just an unfortunate incident caused by a genuinely nice evening and mulled wine. But in the darkness, when she could hear Haymitch's soft footfalls or the creak of his bed when he lay down, so close on the other side of the wall her body reacted so strongly it worried her. The memory of his hands all over her, his mouth against her mouth, how she could feel his desire through the clothes, hear him moan her name. And that's when she sighed there in the dark and wanted to go to him.

But she knew better than to give in to the temptation again. Besides, who said he wanted her to? When she watched him during the meals – the only times they really spent in each other's presence – seeing his silent, closed off face she was positive the answer was no. That he regretted it ever happening. Because he knew better too.

She left for the Capitol two days earlier than planned.

xXx

"We want to invite Effie."

Haymitch, whom had just given Delly back her change, didn't show with so much as a blink that he'd heard the boy but he felt a twinge in the pit of his stomach at the sound of her name.

"Katniss's birthday," Peeta added. He stood in the entrance leading to the inner parts of the bakery, with flour up to his elbows. "Well, would you be OK with it?" he asked, a small note of impatience in his voice when Haymitch wasn't answering. "Because that's what Effie will ask too."

"We're not married," Haymitch muttered. "She doesn't have to run anything with me."

Peeta gave him a look and Haymitch's eyebrows creased together.

"It was just a kiss," he said. "Weirder things happen every day, if you can believe it. Do what you want. She can visit or not visit. Either way is fine with me."

The bell at the top of the door twinkled and another customer entered, giving him an excellent excuse to not talk about Effie anymore.

He used to help out at the bakery every once in a while during busy weeks when the boy was short in staff or when he just needed something to do. He could cook, well enough, when he was sober, and bake too he guessed, but he actually preferred standing behind the counter, reckoning people would rather have Peeta's hands making their fresh baked goods than his.

The elderly man pointed to the different baskets and Haymitch counted up rolls, putting them in paper bags.

He felt exhausted enough to sleep through a century. He couldn't even pass off what had happened between him and Effie as just a drunken mistake. He'd lost his head from one cup of mulled wine. And from looking way too deep into Effie's eyes.

It wasn't the first time he'd made out with a Capitolian. He'd fucked a handful of them during the Games, when his mind was soaked and his bed was cold. But being with those women, their eager embraces in dark rooms – it was never really… pleasant. There was an attraction, stimulated by the alcohol flowing through his veins and anger that made him burn hot and short, just craving for release while he ignored the unpleasant parts of the experience.

It hadn't been like that with Effie. She was different and part of that thought annoyed him and it annoyed him that he couldn't just forget about the whole thing. Shit, just the sound of her deep sighs through the wall had been enough to make him hard again.

But the thought of repeating it, go through with it sent off all kinds of warning bells. To say he was a mess was an understatement. And Effie wouldn't want to be with someone like him, even if she thought she did in that moment. He should never have followed her in the first place.

And yet, in a moment of weakness, he'd called her. Just to see if she'd mention the kiss. Probably for the best she hadn't.

And now he'd okayed her coming back to Twelve. How did that even happen? Damn, life was simpler when it was just him.

"I'll go over to Hazelle's a minute, that alright?" he asked, loud enough for Peeta to hear him by the ovens. "I promised I would come get my laundry today."

xXx

Dear Haymitch
I was very happy to hear from you through Peeta and be invited to Katniss's birthday party. They grow up so fast, don't they?
I will board the train on May 7 when I come home from work and will arrive at District 12's station the following evening. Would you come and meet me if I asked you to? I feel like we should talk about, well, what happened between us at New Year's. I want you to know that…

Dear Haymitch
I should have come and talked to you right after we kissed. Now I'm afraid that when I see you things are going to be different, that we're going to treat each other differently. I don't even know how we could end up kissing. We're not exactly compatible. You are desirable but that is no excuse for me to…

Dear Haymitch
We've known each other for years. Isn't it perfectly normal to feel an attraction to someone you're safe and familiar with? I wish I knew what you are thinking about all this? Are you angry? Hurt? Do you really want me back in District 12? Are things OK between us? I've missed you so ever since…

Dear Haymitch
I just want you to know I'm looking forward to seeing you, all three of you. I really enjoy visiting District 12, even if you have out of control weather and no street lamps. I've always cared for you, more than I think you know and I…

Dear Haymitch
My train will arrive the 8th of May about an hour before the party starts. Give Katniss and Peeta my best, would you?

Sincerely
Effie

xXx

Her gold wristband glittered in the spring sun when Effie knocked on Haymitch's door. He hadn't come and met her at the train station but she hoped to at least get a word with him before dinner over at Katniss and Peeta's. Let's just accept we kissed. That's what she was going to say to him. Let's just accept we kissed and move on. There were footsteps approaching and she drew a breath, his name already on her lips when the door swung opened.

A woman stood before her.

Effie released her breath in pure surprise at the sight of her and in her confusion she couldn't even tell who she was looking at even thought there was something familiar about her face.

"Hi Effie," the woman said. "I'm Hazelle."

"Hello," Effie blurted, finally regaining her voice, shaking the woman's outstretched hand, that was calloused and warm and strong.

The house was filled with the most delicious fumes and Hazelle lead the way to the kitchen, with the treads of a woman who knew her surroundings well.

"Hope you like lamb," she said, returning to the oven where a roasting tray was cooking. "Haymitch's upstairs, changing."

Effie bumped down on a chair staring at Hazelle; her soft, dark brown hair, her blue dress and her skilled hands pouring olive oil and white vinegar over a bowl of finely chopped vegetables.

Then there were the trample of feet coming down the stairs, Haymitch appeared at the door and for a fraction of a second his Seam gray eyes looked straight into Effie's, making the hairs on her arms stand right up.

Then the moment broke and he was by Hazelle's side, starting to slice cucumber for the water jug.

"If you want something to do you can make the table," he said over his shoulder.

And that was it.

Effie sat wedged in between Peeta and the young girl, Posy. It was crowded, all eight of them squeezed together around the table and Effie joined in the various discussions but she kept losing her thread, distracted by Hazelle's and Haymitch's elbows touching while they ate.

She tried to meet his gaze throughout dinner but either he didn't notice or he didn't want to. He'd combed his hair. She couldn't remember the last time he combed his hair and he'd even put on a clean shirt. Was it Hazelle who had picked it out for him? Choosing gray so it would bring out the colour of his eyes. Effie glanced at the woman. She wasn't beautiful but she wasn't unattractive either. Eyes as gray as Haymitch's, dark-haired like Katniss, with those first few silver hairs. She ran a cobbler and cleaner business in town, apparently and she was a sweet woman, anyone could tell and anyone could tell how fond Haymitch was of her.

Effie sipped her glass, eating her neatly sliced lamb, red unions and sweet potatoes but despite it being one of the best dishes she'd ever had she could hardly swallow. Maybe because of the lump she had in her throat.

How different everything felt now compared to New Year's. At the Hob, if feeling like an intruder when first entering she'd also felt like part of Haymitch's team; of belonging with him and Katniss and Peeta.

Here, in his house where she'd been so many times before, she was the outsider, sitting just outside the family circle with Hazelle at Haymitch's right, which always used to be Effie's.

At least Katniss looks happy, she thought, looking at the birthday girl and the ache in her heart eased a little. They all do.

When it was time to bring out the cake someone suggested the Meadow.

Effie dabbed a napkin at the corner of her blue painted mouth, saying she would just go change shoes but her words were hardly even heard in the commotion of everyone getting up from the table.

It's good, what's happened, she thought. That was when she was back in Katniss and Peeta's guestroom, unzipping her bag to get out her low heeled shoes. Hadn't she suggested herself they should invite the Hawthorne family over for dinner at New Year's? And hadn't she intended to tell him just hours ago she wanted to accept and move on?

So why did it hurt so much that Haymitch had done just that?

Haymitch and Hazelle; even their names sounded like they belonged together. Judging by their age they must have been at school around the same time. Maybe they'd even been playmates, running around the Seam when they were little.

She knew Hazelle had worked as his housekeeper before and knowing Haymitch, he must have made that arrangement solely out of care for Hazelle and her family, to help her income after the Capitol hardened its grip on their district. The Hawthornes had even lived at the Victor's Village during a shorter period after the war.

Maybe Haymitch had always had something going on with his housekeeper and at New Year's when Hazelle was in District 2…

But the heat had barely risen to Effie's cheeks before she dismissed it again. Haymitch would never be unfaithful. And there had still been plenty of time for him to forget about her and remember Hazelle in the four months that had passed.

She was happy for them. Of course she was.

And that was when she realized how quiet it had become. Outside was just birdsong. Not so much as a foot against gravel and she closed her bag quickly and headed for the door.

There wasn't a soul nearby. At first she just stood there, completely dumbfounded. Couldn't they have waited? Haymitch could have waited at least.

Where was the Meadow? She thought back to visiting Peeta at the hospital. He said the Meadow was just a stone's throw from… what? The Victor's Village?

Her eyes immediately went to the woods where she'd gone with Haymitch last winter and she sighed so heavily, a mockingjay took flight from a flower bush. But a stone's throw away was just a stone's throw away. And it couldn't be harder than plowing through snow, right?

She'd wanted to see the Meadow ever since Peeta gave her the painting. Because even if she had never actually seen it in real life and even if things felt strange and different between her and Haymitch now it was a place she connected with peace and feeling safe, because she associated it with Haymitch and Katniss and Peeta. On unbearable nights when every lamp in her apartment was lit she would sit wrapped in a blanket on her bed watching the painting, sometimes for hours.

She knew they had buried people there. That's why she'd been so surprised when Haymitch had said they could go there someday if she wanted to. Peeta went there frequently, he'd told her during her stay after Haymitch's birthday. Said he went there to think, that he didn't want to forget and ignore the place like it never happened, like the dead never existed. And she suspected if Haymitch went there it had something to do with Peeta and Katniss.

And lifting her chin she stood up straighter and walked right through the underbrush, being swallowed up by the trees.

May was a fine time to be in District 12, with the grass dotted with white and yellow flowers, the trees turning green and the brook with its cold, clear water purling over rocks.

But walking through its woods was a pain.

Her respect for Katniss who did this every day grew with each step she took. Despite her practically being born in heels, she still kept stumbling over tree roots or treacherous patches of moss soaking her feet in ice cold water. Little shrieks escaped her mouth when she walked face first into invisible spider webs and she had to stop again and again when she treaded through hidden straggly twigs or tangles of greenery and had to yank her foot free.

Half the time, she looked around trying to spot the Meadow; the other half her eyes were glued to the ground. And the next time she lifted her gaze, she picked the worst possible time to do so.

Her foot stepped down, breaking a stick. Something tightened around her ankle and she fell forward, a lashing pain in her calf and before she knew it she was heaved up so fast in the air she screamed, thinking a bear or something had gotten her. She turned her head left and right, her whole world bouncing up and down.

"Hello!" she called. "Hello! Anyone here?"

A trickle of blood ran up her calf. Something kept her dangling by the leg. She must have gone straight into one of Katniss's animal traps.

She called for help but it wasn't a soul nearby, only the mockingjays taking flight from the canopy at the sound of her.

"This isn't happening!" She tried to reach the ground with her hands, her fingertips just grazing against the underbrush. She tried to bend her body forward and reach her leg and the rope that held her dangling from the tree, but even if she hadn't wore a corset she wouldn't reach, not hanging like this. All blood seemed to have run down into her head leaving it throbbing as she tried to reach the nearest tree and somehow… somehow…

And she hissed with anger.

Why hadn't he waited for her!? Or was she so invisible to him he didn't even notice if she was there or not anymore! Who did he think he was!? He had barely said two words to her since she got back! Since they kissed! When it wasn't to slur at her about keeping him with alcohol! He could be with whoever he wanted. She couldn't care less! But this silent treatment, that she did not deserve! And now she was going to hang here until she withered and Haymitch would only be pleasantly surprised having her out of the way.

She didn't know how long she hung there. But the sky turned overcast and when Effie was the most fuming, her blood boiling the hottest, whose figure didn't materialized behind a tree trunk if not the reason himself.

"Well, finally!" Effie snapped, too angry to even be relieved. Haymitch stared at her, actually rendered speechless watching his ex colleague dangling by the leg from a tree. "What took you so long!"

"What the hell are you doing?"

"I told you I had to go change my shoes before we left! Why didn't you wait for me? Or were you so busy with…"

" You're lookin' for the Meadow out here?"

"Peeta said it would be just a stone's throw away," said Effie, her annoyance building from Haymitch just standing there.

"From the Seam, Eff. Not the Victor's Village."

"The…" Effie stopped short. "That's… Well, that doesn't matter now, does it! Get me down this instant!"

Haymitch frowned at her snappishness. And then he did something outrageous. He just sat down. Close enough to be on eye level with Effie but on a safe enough distance from any hair tearing. Effie's mouth dropped opened watching him reach inside his pocket getting out his silver hip flask.

"Don't drink!" she said immediately but her trying to stop him only made her twirl from the rope and she groaned.

"Get me down! What are you waiting for?"

"It'll do ya some good, hanging there for a while," said Haymitch. "Shaking off your bad temper."

"How dare you!?"

Haymitch took a long time unscrewing his flask, having a few pulls on it.

"If it wasn't enough you gave me the cold shoulder during dinner," Effie hissed. "If it wasn't enough you're with.. with… now you're just going to…"

"Why're you so angry?" Haymitch asked.

"Look at me and it might give you a clue!"

"No, it's more than that," said Haymitch. "Is it cause I kissed you? Sorry. Won't happen again."

And Effie hated herself for feeling tears well up in her eyes.

"No, of course it won't. What a lucky woman!"

"Is that a reference to yourself or what?" Haymitch asked tiredly, having another drink from his hipflask.

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about!"

"I never do," Haymitch sighed. "But you're not making a lot of sense in general. So why don't you tell me, sweetheart?"

Effie glared at him, wondering if he was just playing stupid.

"Hazelle, of course!" she spat. "Hazelle! Your pretty new girlfriend."

Haymitch's eyebrows lifted, having to take a closer look at Effie, to see if she was being sarcastic but all he could see on her face was anger and betrayal and… something more, was it hurt?

"My new girlfriend?" he finally uttered.

"Yes, and she's from the districts too! I bet you are very happy about that!"

First Haymitch just stared at her as if wondering what she'd been drinking. Then when it dawned on him he guffawed.

"So, that's why you've been acting weird all day? Cause you think I'm doing Gale's mum?"

"I couldn't care less about who you're… doing. But I thought you'd at least…"

"Sweetheart, I'm not having a fling with Hazelle", Haymitch chuckled. "Who told you I was? Your jealousy is cute, though."

"I'm not jealous! Not a bit! And what do you mean you're not with Hazelle? She was cooking you dinner!"

"She was cooking Katniss dinner and only at my place cause the kids' stove broke."

Effie stared at him.

"Are you playing me for a fool, Haymitch? I've seen you with her. You like each other."

"Course we do. Doesn't mean we wanna fuck."

That silenced Effie. And the more seconds that passed the more she realized she had made a proper fool of herself all on her own, almost wanting to ask Haymitch to leave and get her in a couple of hours when everyone else had gone to bed.

"Can you get me down now?" she muttered. "Please."

And Haymitch got out his old knife and went to work on cutting the rope from the tree.

"Katniss will be disappointed," he said, slowly lowering Effie onto the ground. "She's gotten better hauls than this."

Effie was lying on her back, too dizzy to move, her chest rising and falling in short breaths. Then Haymitch's face came into her field of vision.

"Can't believe you thought Hazelle would do me," he said. "She's taken care of me in situations you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. Don't think I'm her type, sweetheart. Hell, as far as I know I'm not anyone's type."

"Oh, of course you are," said Effie with a wave of her hand. "Or at least you would be if you weren't so obnoxious all the time."

"Gonna lie there all day, huh?"

"Yes." With a groan Effie pushed herself up to sitting and while she brushed her skirt out over her knees Haymitch cut off a piece of his shirt.

"What are you doing?" she asked when he crouched down beside her but he just tied it around the cut on her leg. A shiver ran through her when his fingers brushed against her skin.

"Sorry," mumbled Haymitch, who thought she was hurting.

"I feel so stupid," Effie muttered.

"You are stupid."

The sky had grown dark when they returned to the Victor's Village, stars beginning to appear.

"Sleeping over at the kids' house tonight?" Haymitch asked.

"Yes, I… I thought that would be best," Effie said.

Haymitch nodded, putting his hands in his pockets, his face illuminated by the golden light spilling out through Katniss and Peeta's house.

Talk to him. Talk to him or else maybe you never will.

"Haymitch…"

"I know," said Haymitch. "It's alright. See you tomorrow." And without another word he left, disappearing into his house.

Effie couldn't sleep at all that night. After hours of tossing and turning she finally got out of bed, tiptoeing downstairs so she wouldn't wake Katniss and Peeta. She always drank warm milk with honey when she had trouble sleeping, and she poured herself a cup now even though she had to make do with drinking it cold since the stove was not working. She wrapped a blanket around herself sitting in one of the bay windows, seeing Haymitch's house through her own unsmiling reflection.

When she arrived here it'd been a relief knowing she'd sleep over at the children's house. Now she felt bad about the fact the three of them were here together, while Haymitch was on his own, maybe believing she couldn't stand to be even in the same house as him.

She thought she'd been upset about Haymitch being with Hazelle. But what was really down heartening was to learn that he wasn't. That he was just as alone as always.

She heard a door being opened and she lifted her gaze, looking out the window. It didn't take long for her to make out Haymitch, staggering down his front porch and even in this dim light it wasn't hard to tell the state he was in.

"I need to talk to you," Haymitch slurred, reeling into Effie when she got outside, making her stagger back and she tried to steady him by holding on to his shoulders.

"Go to bed, Haymitch. It's long past midnight."

"No. I need to talk to you. I need to tell you I'm not with Hazelle."

"I already know you're not with Hazelle, Haymitch," she said. "Come now, let's get you to bed."

"No, no. That's not what I was gonna say."

He reeked with alcohol, trying to get the words out, trying to focus his blood shot eyes at her.

"I need to tell you why I'm not with Hazelle…"

Before she could answer he staggered a step, into the soft light from the window and she saw his face properly. Fear shot through her at the sight of his skin and lips that were tinged a sick bluish color. She tried to steer him towards Katniss and Peeta's house, telling him to come with her but he resisted, his words coming out in unconnected slurs she could hardly make sense of. Then he gave a low groan.

"I feel funny," he mumbled. "I…"

His feet gave way, so suddenly he tumbled them both over and she called out his name as he started to convulse on the ground.

xXx

That was a night all four of them would gladly forget.

First there was Effie, Katniss and Peeta, in the hospital corridor, waiting for news on Haymitch. Effie found them some blankets and then she sat there patting their backs and mumbled reassurances to them even though her own hands were visibly shaking.

And then there was Haymitch, feeling like he'd been run down by a tractor when he finally came to; angry at finding himself in a hospital bed, angry about the mayhem he'd caused.

There were few things Haymitch hated as much as he hated hospitals and now he couldn't leave, not for the next few days because of the severe alcohol poisoning he'd apparently suffered. And even if he'd been able to persuade the doctors and the nurses and God Almighty, there was no getting past Effie Trinket. He told Katniss and Peeta to go home and get some rest but it was pointless to try and get her to leave.

He didn't remember anything from that night but he'd heard enough to know he'd given them a fright he never wanted to inflict on either of them. And now he was paying the price, by getting Effie for a nurse.

He wondered if she thought he'd go down the fire escape if she turned her back to him for even a second. Maybe she just couldn't get enough of his ass peeking through the hospital gown when she helped him to the bathroom, or the smell of vomit when she held his hair.

"You could have died, Haymitch," she said, pulling the cover from the bed, keeping an eye on his IV drip while he lay back down again. "And not just figuratively speaking. I could have been at the Capitol right now, picking out your headstone."

"Great," said Haymitch. "You'll get me a pink one with blinking butterflies and my theme song playing in the background."

"Even if I did, it would only serve you right!"

"Hey, don't yell at the sick guy."

Effie clucked her tongue and reached for the water glass on the nightstand.

"Drink some," she said, holding the straw to his lips, like he couldn't do it himself. She would do things like that no matter how many times he swatted her hands away. Buttoning his hospital gown when it became undone, staying vigil by his bedside making sure he ate everything on his plate, keeping him hydrated and fussing over his hair that would get matted in clumps at the back. She badly wanted to comb it out for him until he literally pressed his hands against his head, hissing at her that she tore it out with the roots.

"Don't you have a job?" he asked.

"They gave me a few days off when they heard I had a family emergency," she said. "Now, Haymitch. You will focus on getting well, do what the doctor says and then you go home and live until you're 105."

The sun flooded the square when he finally got to exit the hospital doors with Effie by his side and he inhaled deep breaths of the clear spring air as if he hadn't been able to breathe properly inside.

All he wanted was to go home but Effie badly wished to pay a visit to the flower shop first and Haymitch reluctantly followed, staying outside, fisting and unfisting his hands that were shaking. When she returned she brought with her a large bouquet of red and yellow and purple and pink tulips.

"To celebrate your homecoming," she smiled. "Tulips are my favorite flower. I thought we could put them in the kitchen. Give your house a little color."

"Yeah, whatever."

Bottles were rolling when Haymitch pushed inside his house and Effie sighed when she saw the share number of them littering the floor. She put the tulips aside on the kitchen table, searching for a vase while Haymitch went straight for the cabinet under the sink. And he'd already had a few good swigs from one of the bottles before Effie snatched it from his grasp.

"What are you doing!? Haymitch! Didn't you listen to a word the doctor said?"

"Wasn't like he had anything to say I didn't already know," said Haymitch, reaching for another bottle but he'd barely gotten it out before Effie snatched that one as well.

"You almost died!"

"Almost, yeah," said Haymitch and tried to take a third bottle but this time Effie walked up and closed the cabinet shut, just barely missing his fingers.

"You are not drinking those," she said and ignored Haymitch's indignant sound. "You will help me clean this up. I am not doing it all by myself."

Haymitch watched her with a frown when Effie put her armful of bottles back in the cabinet before starting to pick empty ones from the floor. He went over to the broom closet, getting out the broom and dustpan. But not before he'd had a few pulls at one of the wine bottles stashed in there.

He never said Effie could stay over at his place. It just happened anyway. And between the drinking and the arguments, she was slowly taking over his life. Large bouquets of tulips adorned every room. Bright yellow curtains replaced the dusty ones from last Christmas. She draped his threadbare sofa with pink, flowery scarves and arranged all of his clothes in the closets and drawers.

He could never find anything. He spent half an hour cursing and looking for one of his books in all his usual places only to realize Effie had put them in perfect rows in the book shelf.

Effie had been surprised when first hearing he liked to read, a reaction which in turn had annoyed him. But it was one of the few things he actually enjoyed spending money on apart from liquor.

Not fiction. Fiction was a waste of time in his opinion but he owned several thick volumes of history, science and even philosophy. There'd been times when he read more than usual, when it'd played a greater part in his life but he'd never completely stopped and he had put those books in strategic places like the bay windows, by his bed, by the toilet for a reason!

But he could almost live with her taking over his house and her bossing around about regular meals and sleep and vitamins if it wasn't for her damn nagging about his drinking. She'd always disapproved over his alcohol consumption to some degree but ever since his trip to the hospital she'd been an absolute pain.

He was so sick of arguing with her about it and found himself taking longer time than was necessary buying his groceries or staying to talk with Peeta at the bakery, just delaying the moment when he had to go home.

One night after their latest argument, he sat in the living room and all his bottles that were normally stashed in the kitchen were rounded up on the coffee table in a silent protest, with him working though them from left to right.

It was raining outside so it took a moment for him to even hear her. Then her whimpers cut through the tapping on the roof and his first bitter thought was he should just let her untangle herself from her sheets this time.

But of course he wouldn't. He went up the stairs, hand on the banister as he wasn't really steady and pushed himself into her bedroom finding Effie curled up on the bed, screaming into her pillow.

Goose bumps had risen all over her body and she woke with a gasp when he shook her. When her mind came to realize it was all a dream her tensed body just sank back against the bed and she buried her wet face in the pillow, away from him.

"Just a nightmare," Haymitch mumbled.

"No, it's not," she whispered.

"War is over, sweetheart. You'll never…"

"I didn't dream about my torture," Effie said, the anger slipping into her voice again, poorly masking the despair underneath. "I dreamt about you," she mumbled. "When you collapsed."

He watched her in silence as she brushed her face dry and pulled up the comforter over herself again, not looking at him.

"Why do you care so much if I live or die?"

"Go back to bed, Haymitch," mumbled Effie, facing the wall. "Please, just go."

He went to his own room, just on the other side of the wall. The raindrops ran down the window, making him think of Effie's tears. There were more bottles stashed under his bed but he didn't touch them. Instead he lay on his unmade bed, starting up at the ceiling.

Before long he heard her again.

"Oh, boy," he mumbled and he got up and to her room a second time. Just when he saw her, tossing and turning in bed, he could make out the words hidden in her cries. The name.

"Alexander!" She cried it more and more panicky each time. "Alexander! No! Please, no! Haymitch, help me!"

He crossed the small space and woke her just like he did last time. A choked sob escaped Effie's lips and she buried her face in her hands but almost immediately tried to compose herself, body rigid from repressed sobs. She reached for the nightstand and now at first did he notice the bottle of sleeping pills.

"Eff," he said, watching her take one on her palm and swallow it with the water on the first try, like only one could whom had done it many times before.

"I'm sorry I'm keeping you up. You shouldn't have to see this," she mumbled, face wet from tears and she lay down again.

"Effie…"

"It will pass, Haymitch. It always does. I'll be alright in a moment."

xXx

Effie never mentioned her nightmares the next day and Haymitch didn't press her when she avoided his questions, just like he hadn't pressed Katniss.

He knew about her sleeping pills, of course. Not only from when she gave them to Katniss on the train but he'd seen the bottles in Effie's room at the penthouse as well.

He wasn't that surprised over her brushing him off last night either. Effie was often like that. When she felt the tears coming she would excuse herself and disappear into her room, not speaking about it when she returned.

She had the right to keep her own secrets, he guessed, and it was really none of his business. He didn't flatter himself to think he was one to talk to.

But he wondered. When he stood outside her locked door hearing her sob and call out names. Wondered about Alexander, wondered about the blonde woman at the Capitolium and all the other things that would make her look so unbearably sad sometimes.

He tried to ration his drinking a little bit for her sake so the day everything went to hell he woke to his body aching all over, hearing someone go about in the kitchen. He dragged himself out of bed putting on whatever he found on the floor along with an old blanket, slowly getting downstairs.

The kitchen smelled of coffee and he found Effie by the stove.

"Here, I made you a cup too," she said, as always looking like she was about to go to a party.

Haymitch muttered out thanks and sat down at the table while she stayed with her back against the kitchen countertop.

He slurped his coffee, relishing every bit of it. Effie knew exactly how he liked it, with just a few drops of milk while she, apart from what you might think, preferred hers black. Black and so scorching hot it burned your brains out.

His hands were so shaky his teeth clattered against the edge of his cup. He hardly even listened to Effie but then she said something that caught his attention.

"I bought the ticket."

He looked at her seeing her holding it up.

"Great," he mumbled, wondering why she was showing him that. Then she moved her thumb and forefinger revealing it was two tickets. "What the hell," Haymitch whined.

Effie smiled, half apologetically, half hopefully.

"I'm not expecting anything," she said. "But they were giving you a discount if you bought two tickets so I thought, what's the harm. Maybe…"

"What about your job?"

"I'm only at the Academy two days a week, the rest of the time we would spend together."

He put his cup back on the table.

"Guess you'll be OK with me bringing my own stuff, then?"

"Well," said Effie, looking like she'd expected that coming. "I have a well-supplied liquor cabinet that will more than suffice your needs."

Haymitch groaned, feeling vomit at the back of his throat. What annoyed him the most wasn't so much her buying him a train ticket without even asking if it would accommodate him. It was the fact she wanted him with her, not for the pleasure of his company but to keep tabs on his drinking.

"So you're saying I'm to come with you like a good little doggie getting my treat only when you think it's deserved?"

Effie's cheeks flushed pink but she met his gaze without blinking.

"That's rude. And no. But I don't want to see you in the hospital again and I don't want you puking all over the floor either. I had enough of that during the Games."

"Good. Cause I'm not coming," he said, getting up from his chair, moving towards the kitchen cabinets.

"Can you please keep from drinking, at least until after breakfast!"

"I'm done talking about my drinking, alright! You're such a hypocrite, Eff. You're popping pills to function."

"That's different. They're prescribed. I only take them when I need them…"

"While pretending everything peachy when you're a total fucking disaster just like everybody else!"

"I'm not! You know nothing about…"

"Oh, please. You can't even speak about that Alexander guy you're bawling your eyes out after!"

And suddenly they were screaming at each other, all their frustration from the past few days boiling over so their voices could be heard all over the Victor's Village.

"What about Katniss and Peeta?" Effie cried. "Ever thought about them having to watch you self-destruct!? When so many died, you're living your life like this! Think about Finnick or Cinna or little Primrose! Your mother, your brother…"

"Shut up, Effie!"

"If your mother could see you now…"

"Shut up about my family!"

"…You would break her heart!"

"And what about you!?" Spit flew out of his mouth, her words piercing right through his heart, making the cruel words spill over his lips. "You're nothing! No good to anyone! Maybe I should've just left you to rot!"

He regretted it the moment he said it. The anger drained from Effie eyes, replaced by confusion and pain. Then her face closed again, like the pull of curtains and her voice was a stranger's when she said,

"Thank you for your honesty, I guess."

And it was too much. Too much of the past few days, too much of his body screaming for the thing he withheld it, too much of Effie's eyes and he pushed himself passed her, slamming the door shut when he left.

The Hob was empty this time of day when Haymitch heaved himself up on a bar stool, trying to keep his coins from rolling across the table. And there he would sit, ordering glass after glass, in no hurry to get home.

Because Effie wouldn't be there when he did.

xXx

*ring ring*
Hello, this is Effie Trinket's answer phone. I can't pick up at the moment but do leave a message and I will call you back. Until then: have a very very nice day!
*peep*
Well, you know why I'm calling. But it's not like you shouldn't apologize too. For the way you talk about people without any concern and for bossing everybody around all day long.
I didn't ask for a nurse in the first place. My drinking's my business just like your business is your business, right? Simple. And I should have said I'm sorry if you hadn't been in such a damn hurry to get on that train.
*peep*

*ring ring*
Hello, this is Effie Trinket's answer phone. I can't pick up at the moment but do leave a message and I will call you back. Until then: have a very very nice day!
*peep*
Effs, pick up. I know you're there so just please pick up. I'm sorry for what I said and… well, for my last call too. Shit, you annoy me to no end even when it's just your answer phone. But just forget about what I said, alright. You know I would never have said it if I hadn't been in withdrawal and… fuck! Why did you have to leave like that? Just… give me a chance to make it right again.
Call me, will you?
*peep*

*ring ring*
Hello, this is Effie Trinket's answer phone. I can't pick up at the moment but do leave a message and I will call you back. Until then: have a very very nice day!
*peep*
I see you've made it your mission to not take any of my calls. Is it your plan to drown me with guilt? Congratulation, you've succeeded. I feel like crap. Come on, I didn't mean anything I said. You know that, right?
Call me, sweetheart.
*peep*

*ring ring*
Hello, this is Effie Trinket's answer phone. I can't pick up at the moment but do leave a message and I will call you back. Until then: have a very very nice day!
*peep*
Well, you know this voice. All the trouble you had getting my phone fixed and now when I'm actually using it I'm just talking to myself as usual.
Shit, we're the most clashing, dysfunctional pair in Panem. Which is sad really because I'm fond of you the moments I can stand you.
I'll even go to the Capitol to see you if you want.
*peep*

*ring ring*
Hello, this is Effie Trinket's answer phone. I can't pick up at the moment but do leave a message and I will call you back. Until then: have a very very nice day!
*peep*
You don't wanna talk to me, I get it but why haven't you answered any of the kids' phone calls? I know they've called you more than once. Are you alright? I didn't mean a word I said, I never have and I never will. You know that's the truth, right?
OK, I'm hanging up now and you don't have to call back but could you at least give Katniss and Peeta a call so we know you're OK.
*peep*

xXx

Even the never-sleeping Capitol felt deserted this early in the morning. The sun reflected itself in one of Effie's mirrors when he stood on her doorstep, his eyes red and aching from the lack of sleep. He'd been travelling all night, getting on the train after he couldn't get in contact with Plutarch.

He'd left a note to Katniss and Peeta before leaving and they'd probably think he'd lost his mind visiting Effie Trinket this early in the morning just because she hadn't answered his phone calls. And maybe he had. There could be many reasons why she hadn't picked up. She was probably just down with the flu.

When she didn't appear after he pressed the door bell he felt the handle and was surprised to find it unlooked.

"Eff?" he called, walking through the empty halls of her apartment and when he pushed inside her bedroom his eyes were immediately drawn to the bed and the person curled up on it. The sun struggled to filter in through the curtains, the air stuffy and Effie lay in a tangle of sheets, head against the pillow. The bed dipped on one side when he sat down, resting his hand against her forehead to see if she was running a fever. She was still asleep, her hair matted and tangled, grease built up in it like she hadn't left the bed for days.

What a jerk he was to her. Effie hadn't been the most well-mannered either but he felt in his heart he was the worst of the two. She only did and said what she did out of care for him and even if it was annoying – how many in his life did that really?

He remembered how she sent after boxes of raspberries, which weren't even in season yet, only cultivated in greenhouses, because she knew they were his favorite, how she made up his bed with brand new sheets bought in town and asked the doctor what nutritions he needed to help his recovery. Because for some unfathomable reason Effie Trinket gave a damn if he lived or died.

He stroked a strand of hair from her cheek, and memories of that day on the roof fluttered back to him. They'd just returned to the penthouse from the Games Headquarters after losing their tributes, with Effie wanting to discuss strategies for next year and between her pointless listing and the dying kids on screen he pulled himself off of the coach taking his bottle with him, waving off her words like one would an annoying fly.

His memories after that were foggy but somehow he'd ended up on the Training Centre roof. Effie, who thought Haymitch had gone back to his quarters didn't come and collect him until lunch. It took her a while to think of the roof when she couldn't find him in any of the plausible places and when she went up there the air was so baking hot you could cut it with a knife. She made way through the garden with its flower beds of large yellow and orange blossoms, her shoe just brushed against a discarded shirt and she couldn't keep a whimper from dropping from her lips when she saw him.

Haymitch lay sprawled on his stomach on one of the green benches. The shadows of the dozen or so wind chimes hanging from branches made patterns over his back that the sun had turned an angry red.

"Oh, Haymitch." She wanted to wake him and get him inside but didn't know where she dared touch him. The most merciful would probably be to let him stay unconscious. Finally she took him by the leg and gave it a shake. He wore pants at least, saving him from some of the excruciating pain he'd experience when he came to.

"Haymitch!" she said, shaking his leg again. A groan escaped his lips, he stirred and cracked open an eye. It seemed to take a moment for anything to register but just as his gaze focused on her she could hear it start deep down, make its way up his throat and Effie's face contorted at the agonized sound coming over his lips.

"You need to come inside," she said.

"Feels like… burning up," Haymitch got out through gritted teeth.

"I know."

She made an attempt to help him sit but Haymitch yelped out in pain when her hand came in contact with his skin even if it was just lightly, leaving white marks slowly fading back to red. He sat up, low breaths pressed out of his lungs. She reached out for him reflexively when seeing him sitting so hunched and suffering but Haymitch hissed at her to stay away.

"Do you experience any dizziness?" she asked. "Muscle weakness or cramps, headache or nausea, rapid heartbeat? You're sweating at least, that's a good sign. Do you feel confused or disoriented?"

Haymitch groaned and got to his feet, slowly but not less determinedly with Effie leaning down, taking his shirt between her thumb and forefinger.

"Leave me alone, Trinket," he growled when she followed him.

"You should let the doctor take a look at you," said Effie when they got inside his room where the curtains were pulled tightly together. Haymitch snorted and grabbed a bottle from the nightstand.

"I don't want them," he said, snapping the seal.

"No more alcohol, Haymitch please," Effie said but Haymitch was already gulping down as much as he could as fast as his back allowed, probably hoping it would ease the pain a little. He paused just long enough to gasp at her to get the hell out of his room.

"Your anger at me is very misdirected," Effie said. "It's not my fault you decided to pass out on the…"

But she wasn't given the chance to finish. She called out indignantly when he slammed the door in her face and locked it.

Haymitch didn't hear her try to make him see reason because he was under the shower head. The rest of his clothes littered the floor but he still looked like he wore a bright red shirt. He gritted his teeth but couldn't keep the moans from bouncing around the tiled walls. The cold water splashed the bathtub where he sat hunched. He wrapped his arms around his knees and buried his face against them, trembling like a damn dog, while hhe shower head drenched his back that was hot as a coal stove.

The bathtub was less than half full when Effie entered. He looked through the crack between his arms.

"How did you get in?" he muttered. He reached for the whiskey bottle in the washbasin and his fingers closed around it the moment Effie's did. He hissed at her when they grabbled for it and Effie gave a small shriek when the shower head turned her way, drenching her with cold water.

"Why do you have to be so difficult!" Water dripped down her lavender wig, and in his state, Haymitch wasn't even able to enjoy the fact her dress had turned slightly see-through. Effie pulled the shower head from his grasp, turned it off and put it back in place. "I've got you something that will help."

"A new career?" he muttered.

He pushed her hands away when she tried to help him out of the tub, towel at the ready and he heaved himself out of the water on his own. Effie's face turned tomato red when Haymitch walked passed her naked as the day he was born. She folded the towel back neatly and poured him a glass of water and when she joined him, Haymitch lay on his stomach soaking his bed covers and even if he was quiet his face had contorted. She sat down on the edge of the bed, making sure to not come in contact with his skin. And she put a paper bag on the nightstand, picking up the items she'd gotten at the infirmary on the bottom floor.

"I'll be as careful as I possibly can," Effie said, unscrewing the lid on a pot and revealed a thick creamy paste. When she gently spread it over his back Haymitch flinched but almost immediately he sighed with relief and his body relaxed.

"Your beautiful skin," Effie mumbled watching all the angry red disappear under a layer of medicine, coating him like Peeta would a cream cake. Haymitch's breathing had calmed but she still gave him some aspirin along with the entire glass of water and then made him drink two more. She put the back of her hand to his forehead but he wasn't hot, seemed fine really apart from the sunburn.

"You don't have to walk straight into trouble whenever it's bad", she mumbled. "I'm right here."

Haymitch didn't answer. Effie crossed one leg over the other meeting his gaze when she was done, his face half-buried in the damp pillow.

"How are you holding up?" she asked, slowly drying her hands on her handkerchief.

Haymitch shrugged but winced when his skin complained.

"You must take it easy," she said. She reached for a bottle of something honey coloured on the nightstand and poured in into a small plastic cup.

"I don't wa…" Haymitch began but Effie had already tipped it into his mouth so suddenly the sleep syrup went down in a reflexive swallow. He wiped his mouth on the pillowcase.

"Thanks a lot, Trinket!"

"You need to rest to give your skin a chance to recover. I won't have you binge-drink until you're so numb you think you're fit for another trip to the roof. And you are short on sleep. You'll be refreshed when you wake."

"Like hell I'll be refreshed," muttered Haymitch into the pillow. Effie knitted her hands against her lap. "What are you still doing here?" he said. "Not afraid someone will wonder where we are? It's mandatory watching, you know."

"What does it matter at this point," she said. "Nobody cares about us."

Haymitch's eyelids were already drooping. He blinked hard several times to keep himself awake.

"You just wanna watch me in all my glory a little while longer, don't you, sweetheart?"

"You look like a buttered roll, honeypie," Effie said. "Besides, it's not like it's the first time I've seen you naked." She pulled the curtains slightly apart. "Do you want me to open a window? Get some fresh air inside?"

"No," Haymitch mumbled, his voice getting slurred from the sleep syrup. He felt himself slipping away and fear shot through him, like a stab because despite his muddled mind, his body still feared what would come with the darkness. "Don't go."

"I'm here," she said and if that had come from any other person he'd just felt weak but for some reason it was never like that with Effie.

He sighed, watching Effie's pale, sleeping face now. Why were they wasting their time like this? Why did he try so hard to say the things that would hurt her the most, make her believe he didn't care?

"Eff," he said and gave her shoulder a shake but she just kept on sleeping. "Eff," he said louder, shaking her again. "Effs, wake up and you can tell me I was an ass."

He shook her harder and Effie's head fell to the side. And that's when he saw the empty bottle of sleeping pills on the nightstand.

"No," he mumbled. "No." And he called her name sharply. His fingers went to her lips, her throat, trying to find a pulse. Her body was slack and lifeless and he grabbed the phone from the nightstand so violently he sent the bottle flying over the floor and as Haymitch shouted into the receiver calling for an ambulance the pill bottle spun round and round and round until it finally stopped.

Author's note: Lot's of drama in today's chapter. And reviews are very much appreciated. :)