Author's note: It's been 7 chapters (and 2,5 years, oh God!) since I introduced the Hayffie baby names Ian and Amy/Amandalyn to our fandom for the very first time. Will we watch them being born in today's chapter? Read and find out!

Also, wanted to take a moment to thank you all for the AMAZING response to the last chapter! You absolutely rock and it's a big reason why this chapter was written and published so fast. That's the kind of power readers can have on a story's progress. I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Chapter 30
As old as life itself

"How would you like rabbit pie with wild mushrooms for dinner?" Katniss asked and dropped her game bag onto the table.

She took a cheese bun from the top of the bread basket and had a bite. It was good to be home again. She'd been a-foot all day.

"Rooba says hi."

Peeta nodded, hands cupped around a mug of tea. No sugar. There was still some left in the pot and Katniss poured herself a cup. Talking about her day out in the woods she joined him at the table.

Peeta listened but like his father back in the day he didn't seem to have a lot to say this evening. Nothing but a nod here and there as the cup turned cold in his hands.

Finally Katniss couldn't miss the lack of response.

"What's wrong?"

Peeta drew a breath. Let out a sigh before he said,

"Effie called. She's gone into labor early."

"Oh. That's normal, isn't it?" Katniss frowned, not sure herself. "With twins. You just go to the hospital. Have them."

"Yes, I don't think there's anything wrong." He silenced. "Haymitch is not with her."

"Why not?"

"No idea. She woke up and… he just wasn't there anymore."

"Oh, Haymitch," Katniss sighed into her cup.

"Effie believes he might have taken the train home. Asked us to let him know what's going on once he gets here."

A frown marred Katniss's face, hearing those words. She tapped a dirty nail against the ceramic mug, then gave a firm shake of her head.

"I don't believe it."

"He's only had four months to get used to this…"

"I know and I don't believe it. Haymitch is not a quitter. He's just at a bar somewhere."

"Maybe. And that's not much better. Either way, Effie's alone and he's gonna miss it all."

"If he's drunk it's probably best if he's not in the room." The harsh words were betrayed by the tired look in Katniss's gray eyes. "He can see them all come morning."

They lapsed into silence. What else was there to say?

Peeta lifted his mug but lowered it again without a sip.

"I want to do something for them," he said, lips pressed together in determination.

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Something."

They sat across from each other, racking their brains for anything good. Katniss spoke up first.

"I've got an idea."

xXx

"99 bottles of beer on the wall. 99 bottles of beer."

Haymitch lay cheek down against his arm slung over the counter. He reached inside the peanut bowl, got himself a nut and placed it after the wobbly "E" on the smooth surface, creating a dot.

"Take one down, pass it around. 98 bottles of beer on the wall."

He lifted his glass and drank but not too steady on his hand liquor rolled down his chin and onto the front of his shirt.

"Oh, shit…"

"Mr. Haymitch?"

He wiped his face with his hand and dried it on his pants. Helped himself with another mouthful.

"98 bottles of beer on the wall. 98 bottles of beeer."

"Mr. Haymitch? Mr. Haymitch!"

Someone tugged on his shirt tail and he waved his hand in the air, like warding off a fly.

"Take one down, pass it around. 97 bottles of beer on the wa... aah!"

His arm shot out clutching the counter by the next forceful tug that damn near pulled him off his stool. Peanuts flew every which way.

"What the hell!?" he spat and turned around.

A pair of big brown eyes stared into his. Frightened but standing her ground. Light brown hair tied up with ribbons. A girl. Just a little girl. She couldn't be older than twelve. He blinked hard several times to make the two images of her emerge into one.

"Who're you?"

She looked familiar.

"Grace, Mr Haymitch," the girl said. "Gracie."

Oh. Right. Effie's student.

He grunted and returned to his drink."You shouldn't be here, girl. This place ain't for kids."

He lifted his glass and slumped it back down. Bone dry. His wallet was on the counter. He opened it and sighed at the lone coins. He'd burned through both his and Effie's money in just a couple of hours and he didn't even notice.

He glanced at the girl, still there.

"Why don't you go play with your friends, kiddo."

Gracie didn't move. She crossed her arms and un-crossed them, watching him.

"What?" He turned fully on her again. Couldn't keep the annoyance out of his voice. "What can I help you with?"

"Ms. Effie," the girl said, her voice small but clear. "It's about Ms. Effie, Mr. Haymitch."

"What about her?"

"She's at the hospital right now. Everyone says so. They say Ms. Effie's gone into labor and that you're not there."

It took a moment for the words to register. Even longer for them to make sense.

"What?" he got out, limbs flooding with panic. "What?"

"They think you abandoned her, Mr. Haymitch, but I thought maybe not so I went to come find you."

"Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

He stumbled more than climbed down from his chair and the world made an alarming tilt.

"When!?" He all but shook the answer out of her. "When did she go to the hospital?"

"I don't know."

"Fuck!"

He pocketed his wallet. The brightness of the mall hit him like a sledgehammer when he staggered out the pub.

"No, Mr. Haymitch. This way!" Gracie called after him and he skidded to a stop. Almost tumbled over when he followed her.

Across the way, seated at his old table, Paulus Bell watched them go.

xXx

"Effie Trinket. She's here. I mean… Haymitch Abernathy. Here to see Eff. I mean Effs Trinket. She's in labor!"

Ocean resided the reception today. That was his usual luck. And yeah, Ocean really was her name. Sky blue hair. A heart-shaped face. Cold pink eyes. Her lips were pressed to non-existence as she watched the wild man before her.

"Please keep to your side of the glass, Mr. Abernathy."

Haymitch cussed and stepped back.

"There, happy?" he said, arms out. "When do I get to see her?"

"ID, please."

"What?"

"I need to see some identification."

"You're kidding, right?"

"I am not, sir."

"He's the mentor of District 12," Gracie chimed in.

"Damn straight, I am! Whole bloody country knows my face!"

"That doesn't earn you special treatment, sir."

"I haven't had an ID in all my life! You know me! You've seen me here with Effie a dozen times!"

"Sir, if you don't keep the volume down I must ask you to leave."

"Oh, for fuck's sake! Is this cause I said you got a stick up your ass? Well, I'm sorry. Couldn't tell what else was wrong with you."

Ocean sucked in a breath, back straight as a steel poker.

"You district people are all the same! Every last one of…"

"Something the matter here?"

All three of them looked up. An Asian doctor approached. Haymitch knew it was a doctor. He'd recognize that white coat anywhere. His silver streaked hair and beard matched the ten well-tended finger nails.

"She won't let me in!" Haymitch pointed to the tight-lipped receptionist. "Eff's giving birth right now!"

The doctor listened to the spew of words with a vacant look in his dark brown eyes. Finally he cut in.

"You're drunk, Mr. Abernathy."

"I know I'm bloody drunk!" The other men and women in the waiting room squirmed uncomfortably in their seats. "What kinda morons runs this place!?"

"Mr. Abernathy. This is a hospital. I must ask you to contain yourself."

"I'm the father, damn it! I should be here! I promised her I'd be here! If you don't want me to turn this place upside down you let me see her NOW!"

The doctor turned to Ocean.

"Call security."

"Oh, for Christ sake, no! No," Haymitch said and all his fire died out. "I'll be good. I swear it. Please just… They're my kids. Come on! Let Effie know I'm here at least. That's all I'm asking. If she doesn't want me in the room, then I'm gone. I'm gone!"

xXx

"Unbelievable." With a protective hand over her belly and pinching her nose the last lady rose from her chair and walked to the opposing wall.

She was in good company. More than one set of eyes glared at the former mentor surrounded by all those empty chairs. People who would rather stand and wait than succumb to the smell of hard liquor reeking out his very pores.

Haymitch didn't even notice or if he did he didn't care.

Collapsed in a pink couch, elbows on his thighs he kept his head braced between his hands as if to block out a painful sound.

"You pathetic, low-life, useless, no-good, miserable, vile, foolish, loathsome…"

"Mr. Abernathy, I presume?"

"Mr. Haymitch." Gracie whom had remained faithfully at his side prodded Haymitch's shoulder. He scrambled to his feet like his ass was on fire. Arms helplessly at his sides, body swaying like a sailor at sea his eyes hung on to the male nurse before him.

"How is she? Did I miss it? Can I see her?"

"You arrived at the last moment, Mr. Abernathy," he said, neither kind nor unkindly. "Follow me."

He struggled to keep up. Bit the inside of his cheek until it bled to stop the world from reeling out of control. The elevator arrived, mercifully empty. It was a slow ride but the slight sucking sensation in his stomach was enough.

He groaned, thrown back in time to those retched elevator rides with Effie at the Training Center. Twelve fucking floors! Now he only had to suffer through four but even that was almost more than he could bear.

"Why's there no air in this thing?" he slurred, more to himself than the nurse. Groaning, he leaned over against a corner, one hand clutching the wall, the other one the mirror, leaving a hand print of cold sweat on the surface.

"Mr. Abernathy," said the nurse, more in alarm over the clean floors than him, that's for sure.

"I'm fine," Haymitch snarl at the floor.

After what felt like 84 years the elevator dinged open on the fourth floor.

He heard her before he saw her. When the nurse opened one of the many anonymous doors and he stepped inside.

The hair on his forearms stood right up from the sounds she was making. The door closed behind him but he was frozen to the spot.

His mouth filled with saliva at a ridiculous rate. He swallowed and swallowed but it didn't help. The fresh waves of nausea turned into cramps that seared through his stomach. Wanted him on his knees.

Walk. Just walk.

He approached the bed surrounded by stranger nurses.

"Eff." The room swam before his eyes and now she saw him. Panting hard and quick, her color hectic, her soft, strawberry hair clinging to her with sweat she wasn't able to form any words. Neither good nor bad. There was nothing left but agony. A pain he caused.

He wanted to run away. Just run for Twelve and hide under a blanket. Most of all he wanted to escape Effie's eyes. A look that would haunt him for as long as he lived.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry.

But not a single word came over his lips. He was avox-mute. Either way, there was no time for forgiveness now.

He'd never felt more powerless. He didn't even take Effie's hand. He did bloody nothing but stand by her side and try not to puke, like the drunken fool he was.

What do I do? He wanted to holler it from the top of his lungs. What do I do? Tell me what do to!

New cramps clutched his insides like Effie clutched the sheets. With her eyes squeezed shut, a guttural noise started deep within her throat. A sound that only grew louder and louder and he stumbled back from the bed, away from her.

"Haymitch!" He heard her desperate cry, like something out of a nightmare, but he didn't stop. Couldn't stop. He pushed inside the adjacent bathroom and hurled into the toilet bowl. A vile concoction of cheese and toast and salami and floods of hard liquor.

He heaved and heaved until there was nothing left but bile. Tears dropped down his nose and into the mess. He wiped his mouth with his hand and only managed to soil the shirt sleeve.

"Mr. Abernathy." A nurse stood in the doorway. The same or a different one, he couldn't tell them apart. "I think it's best if you go get some air."

For the most fleeting of moments he considered the idea. The offer of a way out. That it would be better for Effie; better for all involved if he just removed himself from the situation. He could be a house plant for all the good he did Effie right now.

Then he heard her voice from the other room. Words he could hardly even make out for the ringing in his ears.

"I want to go home," she sobbed. "Please, just let me go home."

"No." He struggled to his feet, knees shaking so badly they almost didn't carry him.

"Mr. Abernathy…"

"No! She needs me. I won't fucking abandon her."

The nausea had subsided. For now, anyway. He rinsed the foulness from his mouth. Washed his hands and cupped them under the faucet. Gave his red, bloated face a good splash.

His shirt was soiled with puke and he pulled it over his head, dried himself with the clean part and tossed it in a corner, standing there in just his threadbare old undershirt where pink skin showed through the moth holes.

Effie lifted her gaze when he reappeared and he expected something along the line of "Get out of here!" and "I never want to see you again!"

Instead she reached her hand out to him. Tears and perspiration ran down her face. She reached out like a woman drowning and he was there. Clasped her hand in both of his. It didn't strike him as nearly enough but what else could he do? One of the nurses helped him with a chair and he sank into it thankfully.

"I know you're tired, Ms. Trinket," said the women in between Effie's legs. Steel hair. Red rimmed glasses. Her he knew. Loredana. The midwife. "But I need you to give me a few more pushes. Just a couple more and they'll be here. Amy and Ian will be here."

Effie clutched Haymitch's hand and he squeezed back.

"OK." She sniffed and wiped her tears with her free hand. "OK."

And when it happened it happened quickly. Standing by Effie's head he didn't see much of the action. When the first baby slid out of Effie and into the midwife's waiting hands. Nothing but a foot when it poked up between Effie's legs.

Just a little foot, dotted with blood and God knew what else. He couldn't tear his eyes off of it and the next moment fierce cries filled the room. Impossibly loud and absolutely furious.

One moment it was just them and the next someone else was in the room, demanding to be acknowledged.

Loredana's skilled hands held the baby and Haymitch got a glimpse of a beet-red face, toothless gums, hands clutched into fists.

Their first one. Their girl.

He resisted the urge to cover his ears at the sounds she was making. Like she couldn't believe what they were doing to her.

One of the nurses went to the silver tray where they kept the torture instruments or whatever the hell it was and picked something up that looked like an odd pair of scissors. She handed them over to Loredana, holding his daughter.

"No," Haymitch said, in alarm. He tried to get up but Effie held him back, speaking soft words.

"Don't worry, Mr. Abernathy," said Loredana, focused on the infant. "I just need to cut the umbilical cord. She won't feel a thing."

She took care of her and swathed her in a blanket. Amy kept on crying and Haymitch kept on staring.

Effie wanted to hold her but she never got the chance.

"Oh, sweet mercy!" She clutched her tummy.

Loredana smiled.

"Someone is eager to join his sister."

She handed Amy over to one of the nurses who stepped back from the birthing bed and Haymitch was struck by the same irrational fear. A stab to the belly.

No! Don't take her away!

But Effie clutched his hand and he couldn't run in either direction. This was only half-done.

And so their son was born. Another purple little bundle. Loredana welcomed him like she had his sister and swathed him up in a blanket. Ian was slightly smaller than Amy but with the same full head of hair. Slick and wet, you couldn't tell the color just now. Not yet.

Beautiful.

He let out a series of squeaks that were Effie spot on. Their cries filled the room, brother and sister both. Filled the whole world. Haymitch's heart pounded in his ears as he watched Ian. This precious little person.

Good God.

"Haymitch?" Effie's voice reached him like from underwater. All he really heard was their helpless cries, growing louder and louder all the time. His breaths grew short and quick. His mouth had gone so dry he couldn't even swallow. "Haymitch, are you OK?"

Loredana and the nurse walked in on them to put the newborns to Effie's chest and it was like he snapped out of his daze.

"No!" They stopped in their tracks. "I can't. I'm sorry, Effie. I can't! I'm not cut out for it. I can't do it!"

Effie didn't let go of his hands. Her eyes flitted to Loredana.

"Can you give us a minute?"

"Sure," said Loredana and all of them quietly retreated to the other side of the room.

"I can't be a father!" Haymitch's blood-shot eyes shone with tears. "You were right not to tell me. I'm a toxic wasteland. I'm nothing but broken pieces. You should keep them as far away from me as possible!"

"Haymitch, listen to me," Effie's words were soft as a caress. Firm as a cliff in the storm. "It's OK to be scared. I'm scared too. Everyone is."

Tears rolled down Haymitch's cheeks and into his beard. He couldn't help it.

"I'm gonna destroy them."

"You won't. Their lives will be better for having you in it. They're going to be fine, Haymitch. All three of you will. Just… surrender. I'm here with you. I'll be here every step of the way."

Haymitch sobbed, eyes squeezed shut. Shoulder-racking sobs he couldn't control as he clung to her hands just as much as her words.

"Do you hear that?" Effie said. "How quiet it is. They have already come to a rest. It was just the initial shock. It's no fun being squeezed out from a warm, snug place into this cold, bright world."

She caressed his hand that clutched hers. Spoke in the same soothing voice.

"The only thing that really matters is that they're loved. Loved and secure. You do love them, don't you?"

Haymitch choked back a sob.

"Yeah," was all he could manage. He nodded. "Yes."

Effie cupped his cheek.

"Then everything is going to be OK."

Loredana and the nurse holding Amy and Ian returned to the bed.

"Ms. Trinket. Mr. Abernathy," said the midwife. "Would you like to meet your son and daughter?"

Haymitch rubbed his tears with his forearm as Loredana placed the newborns in Effie's waiting arms. Amy on the right and Ian on the left.

Their eyes were closed. They'd gone to asleep, at least as far as he could tell.

Effie smiled at him. Her cheeks were rosy from the ordeal. Her strawberry hair a mess. She'd never looked more beautiful.

His gaze returned to the babies, stunned over how everything had changed so fast.

"Why're they covered in cream cheese?"

Amy and Ian bounced against Effie's chest when she chuckled.

He didn't dare touch them. Not with his big, clumsy hands. Nothing so pure and innocent should ever be man-handled by him.

But Effie, when he caressed her hair – uncertain at first if she even wanted him so close – she leaned her cheek into his touch. He tried to speak but not a word made it over his lips. She dropped a kiss to the inside of his palm and gazed back at the twins, sleeping in her arms. She smiled.

"I did good, didn't I?"

"They're perfect." His voice was little more than a whisper. "But they're yours, so…"

"Not just mine."

Author's note: And Haymitch and Effie are parents! What did you think? Tell me in the comments! And heroine Gracie to the rescue! I actually have a theme song for her called "Tiny Voice" by Lexi Walker. If you don't get goose bumps listening to it you don't have skin. ;)