For the twenty-fifth night in a row, Effie woke up screaming and gasping for air.

"Hey, hey…" Haymitch coaxed, gathering her up in his arms. His embrace was strong. She relaxed a little.

For twenty-five nights, it had been like this. The war was over – everyone knew that. It had been over since Katniss shot Panem's president on live television. Since Alma Coin, with her greying hair and eyes of steel, took Snow's place, and the remaining members of his government formally resigned. There was even a treaty signed between the two parties.

The war was over. Everyone knew that the war was over.

Everyone except herself, Effie supposed.

"You're safe," Haymitch soothed. "We're done. You're okay."

She didn't feel safe. She didn't feel okay.

Panem's war might have been over, but Effie's war was not. How could it be, when still she continued to flinch at the sharp flick of a wrist? It was the smallest things that set her off: Katniss' braid soaring when she swung her head this way and that. Annie humming under her breath while she cooked breakfast. Johanna's constant mutterings that seemed to embody anxiety itself. Peeta's fading bruises that were nearly identical to her own.

And Haymitch…

"Haymitch," she choked out. A glance at the clock told her she'd been sobbing on his shoulder for seven minutes. She had entirely drenched a portion of his nightshirt, but that wasn't a new phenomenon. A few nights ago, once she calmed down, he had joked about buying a whole new wardrobe. A waterproof one.

But her nightmares were getting better; she was certain of this. They didn't come as often as they used to and she calmed down more quickly afterwards. It was Haymitch she worried about – he wouldn't ever admit it, but she thought he suffered from nightmares, too. Effie woke up one night to a muffled shout and his face pressed into his pillow. He tried to hide the nightmares from her, but since they had only so many rooms and she refused to sleep anywhere else anyway, there wasn't much she wasn't present for.

She didn't ever say anything to him because she knew he wouldn't let her help. He would say he was a grown man and could handle himself.

Well, Effie knew better.

He was stroking her cheek now, lifting her chin with the base of his index finger while he wiped away tears with his calloused thumb. Her breathing was ragged but otherwise it was silent. Thank goodness, Effie thought. More often than not, she'd calm down from her nightmares to the sound of Katniss calming down from hers across the hall. She was alone in there – she and Peeta agreed it was for the best, at least at present. Haymitch thought they were being silly but Effie happened to approve. It wasn't always nice bed sharing with a snorer, and Katniss was one of the very best.

"Tell me about this one," Effie's own snorer said.

She inhaled deeply before trying to remember. Some days the dreams were easy to recall. Others, not so much.

"I was all out of pink wigs," she started, and Haymitch chuckled.

"Effie," he persisted. The doctors in Thirteen said talking about the nightmares would make them go away faster. Something about helping them process. She wasn't sure what was said exactly because she didn't listen when hers explained it all. She was too tired.

"Katniss was in the arena," she began, "and Peeta was with her. You were there, too. I was watching everything happen on television, so I noticed the trap before you did… Only, when I tried to warn you, I realized Snow had his hand on my throat, and he squeezed, and…"

She had to stop there. Effie looked up at the ceiling so the tears would soak back into her eyes.

Haymitch grumbled something about President Snow and wrapped his arms around her again. She let him hold her, wondering when physical touch became something they both sought out. It used to be something she wanted from him, but he would never grant it to her unless they were having sex, and even then only as shoving her or tugging on her honey-colored hair.

Stupid fucking Capitol slut, he would say. And Effie would throw his words right back at him.

They weren't intimate in Twelve – they hadn't even kissed since Haymitch left her in the Capitol to return with the kids. Neither one of them wanted to talk about it, so they didn't. Sometimes he'd press his lips to her forehead when he thought she was asleep. That and spooning were the closest they got to being physically intimate.

She didn't remember falling asleep, but when she opened her eyes again their bedroom was illuminated by sunlight. Haymitch was in the corner pulling sweatpants over his boxers.

"Breakfast," he said.

They were the last ones to the table that morning. Peeta set a plate of eggs down in front of her. Usually it was Annie who prepared breakfast, so Effie figured the young woman's morning sickness had to be particularly bad that day.

Annie found out she was with child a week after they arrived in Twelve. Effie accompanied her to almost every appointment. The only ones she wouldn't go to were the ones in Thirteen, because those were at the hospital. She absolutely couldn't stand to be in a hospital any longer.

"We have the conference today," Katniss said in between bites. Effie winced. She was referring to the meeting Coin called a few days earlier but scheduled for that afternoon. To discuss a big matter, Panem's president had informed them. It was to be a Gathering of Victors – the first of what they all assumed would be monthly get-togethers, if you could call them that. Effie had been asked to attend, too, though she wasn't sure why, as she didn't qualify as a Victor. She didn't even qualify as a rebel, really. She wasn't quite sure what her label was.

She didn't think she'd like to know.

Johanna dropped her fork onto her plate and the sound made half the table jump. "I hate the Capitol," she whined.

"Too bad, you're going," replied Haymitch. Effie shot Johanna a pointed look. Whining was unattractive.

"Coin only wants to see us so she can film more propaganda," Katniss pointed out. "Some people are already forgetting how awful it was with Snow around and she wants to remind them before we turn on her, too."

Annie looked worried. "I don't trust her."

"I don't either," Katniss told her.

Effie silently agreed. There was something about Coin she never liked. The way she smiled at her, her nose scrunching in disgust ever so slightly…

President Coin despised the Capitol. Effie knew that; they all knew that. She was one of twelve Escorts, all currently alive and free from prison. Coin would actively speak out against them on any given day, call them monsters who didn't deserve to be spared from execution, and fix a chilly stare on anyone who dared to interact with them in public. Thankfully, Katniss and Haymitch had Effie on their lists of people Coin wasn't allowed to execute. Annie, who was undeniably selfless, added the other eleven Escorts to hers.

Effie startled when Haymitch banged his fist on the table, his jaw clenched in irritation.

"Don't fuckin' talk like that…" he muttered, and she knew he must be thinking of the Capitol's tendency to bug anything and all things. It remained unclear how Coin handled criticism. Speaking negatively of her and her government, even in the privacy of their own homes, could prove dangerous.

Annie covered her ears and began to laugh. For once, Effie thought grimly, she had the right idea.

Peeta went about calming her down while Katniss cleared. Johanna stumbled upstairs to change into decent clothes, leaving Haymitch and Effie alone on their end of the table. He looked at her half-eaten breakfast and full glass of milk and frowned.

"You may have it, darling," she sighed. Effie knew he felt bad for snapping at them. He always did, though he never promised not to do it again. Haymitch wasn't one to make promises he knew he couldn't keep.

Effie adjusted her wig in the bathroom mirror once more before departure. She had considered giving them up – honestly, she had – but her colorful hair was a constant of the past decade and she was never good with change.

The train ride to the Capitol was long and unpleasant, to say the least. Effie tried not to think about the last time she'd ridden that particular train. Or any train, for that matter.

Peeta caught her eye from where he was sitting and threw her a lopsided grin. He was always the first to know what she was thinking about. He was much more attentive than Haymitch, especially since he refused to take a sip of anything alcoholic, therefore being more present. Haymitch, on the other hand, had unfortunately returned to his excessive ways, albeit with a tad more control.

Katniss looked to be sound asleep on his shoulder but Effie knew better. The girl hardly ever slept. She had begged her again and again to take something for her insomnia like Haymitch and Johanna did but Katniss declined every time, preferring to stay alert. Effie wished there were something she could do to help her, but she wasn't a healer like Katniss' mother, who was busy in District Two, and she wasn't capable of undoing her sister's death, the primary source of her sleeplessness and night terrors. Effie was only the girl's chaperone.

Something solid landed in her lap and she glanced down to find Haymitch's disgusting work boots. Effie squealed and pushed his feet off of her. He snored, stretched out across multiple seats with his back against the wall.

When they arrived at the train station they were met by Coin's guards, who escort them all the way to the Presidential Palace, now Coin's primary residence and headquarters.

She was waiting for them in the foyer.

Katniss walked up to her first. "Madam President," she said, the epitome of polite, though Effie noticed neither woman moved to shake the hand of the other.

Alma Coin had gotten plumper since Effie last saw her, she noted with cruel satisfaction. Coin wasn't reduced to Thirteen's rations anymore and her hollow cheeks had filled out. Her feet were shoved into heels too tall for her proportions, too, presumably to make her seem taller and intimidating, but while Effie was usually all for expressive footwear anyone could see the woman looked ridiculous.

Effie didn't feel guilty for judging her so harshly because she knew Coin was thinking the same about her. She was thinking Effie had slimmed down too much since leaving the Capitol last and that her bare face was jarring to see. She would probably tell Plutarch Heavensbee that Twelve's ditzy escort had lost all spark in her eyes.

Well, let her, Effie huffed. Maybe then the two of them would realize that none of Panem's citizens were truly well, no matter how many doctors they got to claim otherwise. They were a broken country, beaten and reluctant to heal.

"I am glad to see you all," Panem's plump president said. She didn't bother trying to sound sincere. "If you will follow me…"

Coin led them through rooms that were once lavishly decorated but were presently filled with things of all sorts, paperwork and crates and makeshift cots. She caught their bewildered looks and had the decency to look embarrassed.

"We're housing government officials who lost their homes during the Rebellion. Their families, too. Templesmith, the Naveaus, the Cranes—"

"Crane's family is here?" Johanna blurted, sounding just as shocked as Effie felt.

Coin nodded. "Yes, we saw it fit that his widow and children should be given a place—"

"Are you insane?" This came from Haymitch. Coin stopped walking and turned to face the six of them.

"Your tennants," Haymitch continued, spitting the word with vengeance, "are the reason we're in this fucking mess. Crane was a Gamemaker, or do you not remember that?"

President Coin plastered a false smile on her face. "Mr. Abernathy, while I understand your concerns—"

"No. Absolutely not."

Haymitch turned and rushed back the way they'd come. Effie chased after him and grabbed his wrist.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" she hissed. "As disagreeable as she is, she is the one with all the power here, and I will not let you be thrown in prison for backtalk of all things! At breakfast—"

"I know what I said at breakfast. But Annie and Katniss are right. She's just as manipulative as Snow was. Fuck, Effie, don't you see? We didn't do a single thing. All those kids… They died for nothing. Nothing. Because nothing has gotten better. No one has."

"What about me? I have gotten better," she whispered, hating the teardrops already forming in her eyes. "I'm not ignorant anymore. I'm not the naive Capitol puppet you met ten years ago. I've changed. I have watched people die, Haymitch, including our friends, and it has changed me for the better as I have come to understand the world in all its bitterness. You cannot go around continuing to act as though everything is as it was. Some things have, in fact, gotten better."

He barked a laugh, then, and she felt humiliated.

"You have not gotten better, Euphemia Trinket," he said coolly. "You think your nightmares are going away? They're not. Those sleeping pills you take just keep you from waking up. I wish you would quit, though, because holding you until you calm down every night is not how I want to spend the rest of my miserable life."

Haymitch inhaled sharply, realizing what he said – that he didn't want to spend the rest of his life sleeping next to her, and that on top of that, he was miserable with her.

Effie's cheeks burned. His words ripped her apart as easily as if she were made of paper. Her first instinct was to reach out and slap him, but then her vision blurred and she knew she was close to crying.

She would not cry. She would not give him the satisfaction of watching her wither.

From behind her, Effie could hear Katniss' voice getting louder as she exchanged heated words with President Coin. Blinking away her distress, Effie lifted her chin and squared her shoulders.

"Fine," she told him. "You'll move your things into the guest room tonight. Or maybe I'll move mine into the house across the street. I don't care. Excuse me."

She left Haymitch standing in the foyer and hurried to rejoin the children. Just in time, too – one of the so-called refugees had appeared, whom Effie recognized as Crane's understudy, the man who would've taken over as Gamemaker had he not conveniently retired the week after Seneca.

Johanna seemed about ready to rip his head off. Katniss was eying Coin with unconcealed vexation.

"Oh, Mr. Everington!" Effie exclaimed with fake enthusiasm. "How lovely to see you after so many years."

"Euphemia," he nodded respectfully, then turned to Coin and added, "Madam President," before scurrying out of sight.

Coin looked around for Haymitch, then glanced at Effie. Effie shook her head no.

They followed Coin down the corridor and into the Conference Room. It was still as elegant as it'd been before the war, free of makeshift beds and refugees.

Coin took her seat at the head of the table while the rest of them settled in chairs nearby. The remaining Victors from the other Districts were already crowded around one end of the table. Effie ended up somewhere in the middle with Peeta on her left and Katniss on her right. In between her chair and Katniss' was an empty seat left for Haymitch out of consideration, though Effie had absolutely no idea where the Victor had gone and if he would return before the meeting was over.

She replayed his words in her head. Part of her insisted he hadn't meant it and that his words came from a grand lack of sleep coupled with the tension of being back in the Capitol. The less logical part of her, however, cried out for a tearful apology and his strong arms around her once more.

Peeta brought his hand up to Effie's arm and squeezed gently. He knew. Of course he knew.

Coin cleared her throat.

"Thank you for joining me today," she began.

The next hour dragged by impossibly slowly as President Coin went over everything on the agenda. There were orphans to be housed, public spaces to be rebuilt, and the beaches in District Four, which were flooded with broken glass, required immediate cleaning.

Effie marveled at the vast amount of tasks that needed doing. The notion that the six of them, along with Enobaria, Lyme, Porter, and Beetee, were responsible for the planning and executing of it all…

She felt considerably overwhelmed. Dizzy, even. It was horrendous.

The door swung open suddenly and Haymitch sauntered in looking out of sorts but ostensibly sober. His hair was mussed and his mouth was set in a grim line.

"What on earth…" she murmured, as he took his place beside her.

"Mr. Abernathy," Coin said with little cheer. "Good of you to rejoin the group. You've missed quite a bit but I'm sure Katniss and Peeta can fill you in later this evening. Presently, I was just about to ask those gathered to vote on a topic particularly high on my personal agenda. Any interest?"

Haymitch grunted his consent. He wouldn't meet Effie's eyes.

"Thank you. Now, as you all might recall, shortly before President Snow's execution I called for one final act of justice. Retribution, if you will. I asked that we hold a symbolic, final Hunger Games in honor of those lost to the seventy-five Games of our past, this time with Capitol children as participants. Most of you were not very receptive to that idea. If I remember correctly, only Johanna and Enobaria were for it – although, Lyme and Porter, you weren't present, were you? Hardly a fair vote.

Regardless, I realize now we cannot possibly achieve justice using innocent children as tributes. Therefore, I propose we hold a Hunger Games among older, more experienced Capitol citizens."

Beside her, Peeta tensed and Haymitch inhaled sharply.

Effie didn't understand what Coin meant. What was she talking about? A symbolic Hunger Games? What did that mean? When had that ever been something anyone was considering?

"No," Annie said, shaking her head. "We promised. We said no more Games."

"We took a vote," said Johanna, "and decided we weren't sending children into the arena. But adults? Fine." She turned to look Coin directly in the eye. "I vote yes."

Coin shook her head. "The votes will be anonymous this time," she informed Seven's Victor.

"I don't understand," Effie laughed, because really, this must have been some horrid joke. She reasoned she was still in bed and this was just one of her nightmares. Any moment now she'd wake up to Haymitch soothing her before they went into breakfast.

President Coin narrowed her eyes. "I'm afraid, Miss Trinket, that I am going to have to ask you to step out while we vote. This conference is now open to Victors only."

Effie gaped at her. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. At Coin's behest, she had traveled, far from comfortably, all the way from District Twelve to arrive at the place she hated most. Her nerves were frayed and she was exhausted. But it was fine, because until now, Effie had felt important. Like she was valued regardless of her position as a non-Victor.

So she'd sat, nicely, quietly, through Coin's tiring to-do list, waiting for the moment to arrive when she, Effie Trinket, would get to offer her opinion on the President's "big matter."

And now she was being asked to leave.

This would not do.

"We can't hold another Games," Peeta protested from Effie's left.

"It goes against everything we stand for," Beetee chimed in.

Coin ignored them both and instead honed in on Effie. The President's eyes were startlingly grey. Effie narrowed her own two in response, wanting nothing more than to see the unbothered expression wiped off the older woman's face. Coin couldn't care less. It was infuriating.

"Go and wait in the hallway, Euphemia," the President ordered, not ungently. "We'll call you in when the vote is over."

Effie really had no choice; she knew that. One way or another they would remove her from the Conference Room.

She turned to Katniss.

"Come and find me after," she demanded of the teenager. The dark-haired girl nodded solemnly.

Forty minutes later, however, it was Peeta who settled beside Effie. He arrived in the mansion's dining room to find her drinking a glass of milk and painting her nails in what he deemed to be a hideous shade of orange, though he politely refrained from mentioning this. Effie noticed the disgusted look on his face and laughed.

When he didn't immediately share her mirth, she frowned and patted the bench beside her.

"Is it done?" she asked as he sat.

Peeta nodded.

"Well, then," she sighed, tucking a loose curl back into her wig. She made a mental note to have the thing fixed while they were in the Capitol.

"Effie, there's something you need to know."

"What's that, darling?"

Peeta brought his eyes to meet her own.

"Coin's games…" he began, then faltered and let his gaze drift off to the side.

Effie's heart rate quickened. "Peeta, what is it?" she pressed.

The cafeteria doors slammed open.

"Effie!" Katniss cried, practically throwing herself into her escort's arms.

Effie raised her head to find Haymitch staring at her. His face had gone white.

"Please," she begged, waiting for someone, anyone, to give her a straight answer. "What's going on?"

Haymitch knelt at her feet and lay his head in her lap.

"The vote passed," he said, his voice muffled by her skirt. "Coin's holding the Seventy-Sixth Annual Hunger Games among Escorts."

Slowly, her gaze returned to Peeta for confirmation.

"You're going into the arena, Effie," he told her quietly.

Effie didn't hear what he said after that.

She'd collapsed onto her side.

Well, that's it, another multi chapter fic posted. I hope you'll all stick around for this one! I have big plans for Effie and her Hunger Games.

Pleaseeee leave comments - it inspires me to actually finish what I start.

Love you all xx