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ellanainthetardis · 7 years

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Chapter 2 my lovelies! I hope you enjoy! Let me know!

[FF] or [AO3]

Chapter 2 : Too Slow To Catch Up

The Banquet in Twelve was pitiful.

Undersee had done his best but it was supposed to be the fabulous ending to a fabulous Tour and Haymitch could tell it wasn’t cutting it. And yet there was already much more food than they could afford to lose and someone would miss it, probably in the Seam where people were starving in the streets.

He lurked in the corners, doing his best to stay out of the path of the Mayor’s wife. He didn’t need the ghost of Maysilee staring at him and he was pretty sure the woman didn’t want to see him either.

Katniss, at least, looked happy to be reunited with her friend Madge.

It would have helped if the teenager hadn’t been the spitting image of her aunt at the same age.

Effie was running around with a smile perpetually glued to her face, trying to make sure the camera crew got every good angle and didn’t show how meager the feast actually was. People were encouraged to smile, the kids were reminded to look a little bit more like an engaged couple – and to mind their manners – and it took Portia thrusting a glass of mead in her hand for her to actually relax for a second.

When Cinna sneaked outside of the Justice Building, Haymitch followed.

The cold was almost shocking after the weeks spent on the train and in the much nicer western weather but it was also welcomed. Winter was harsh, it had always been so, less food to find in the woods… But it had always been Haymitch’s favorite season. No Reaping, no Capitol… Snow crunched under his boots, a familiar noise. A friendly one.

He could barely make out the stylist’s figure in the shadow of the great building. There were no street lamps in Twelve and the night was dark in those parts of the country. He was uneasy in the darkness, had been since his Games. Dread and anxiety twisted his guts but he forced himself to ignore the feelings knowing it was simply the darkness pulling tricks on him.

There was no Peacekeeper in sight for once – for the first time since the beginning of the Tour probably – and he breathed in the familiar smell of the District with some relief. It smelt like home. The smell of coal dust wasn’t as present in town as it was in the Seam. In the Village, he could hardly guess at it unless the wind was blowing his way. Coal dust had been unavoidable in his childhood. Some mornings, it had covered his clothes and his hair as he had walked to school, due to the proximity of the mine… Half the people who worked there died of the cough.

Something else he had hoped to change.

Foolish.

“Would you care for one?” The stylist offered him a golden case full with neatly aligned cigarettes. It was Effie’s poison and he didn’t like it but he took one all the same, waiting until Cinna had lit it to take a deep breath. It wasn’t the same brand she used and it didn’t bring him the comfort he had hoped for. The Capitol placed the case back in his inner pocket before speaking again. “They won’t take us all out at the same time. It would be suspicious.”

“Figured.” he nodded, taking a drag of his cigarette.

He felt detached. A part of him was still in his compartment, on the train, safe in Effie’s arms. That was where he wanted to stay, he realized.

Too late.

Always too late.

He should leave a note somewhere for them to carve that on his tombstone: Haymitch Abernathy, missed everything good in life because he was always too slow to catch up.

He let out a chuckle at his own idiocy and Cinna shot him a strange look. He waved a dismissive hand to tell his friend it was nothing.

It didn’t really register that they were talking about their probable murder.

It wasn’t difficult to guess how he would go, he supposed. Alcohol poisoning wasn’t that complicated to fix and nobody would question it. There were worse ways to die. Unless they poisoned him first and made it look like alcohol poisoning later.

He studied the glow of his cigarette, the only dot of light in his immediate surroundings, and he licked his lips.

“You think Effie’s off the hook?” he asked, his voice rough.

He hadn’t wanted to. He was giving more away with that question than was prudent.

Trust was a luxury now.

Even Cinna, whom he had come to consider a friend…

Heavensbee would sell them all out if it wasn’t already done, he was certain of that, and he didn’t know if the stylist would be offered the same deal. Probably not. If Thirteen had really bailed out, Snow already knew everything he wanted to by now. And even if it wasn’t the case… Cinna was too upright to take any deal. But you never knew. No one was untouchable. There were always pressure points. There was always something you never knew you cared about until it was ripped from you.

He should know.

“She didn’t have any part in it.” Cinna shook his head. “And she has never given anyone cause to doubt her loyalties. I don’t think you should worry about her.” He sighed. “I wish I hadn’t brought Portia in. She… I don’t think I can save her.”

“You could run.” he suggested, flicking ash to the side.

“You could too.” the stylist pointed out.

“Nowhere to run to.” he shrugged. And nobody to run with. The kids were there so there he would stay. He would protect them until he couldn’t anymore. That was his job.

But if he had been Cinna… And if Portia had been Effie…

He would have taken his chances where he could have taken them.

“I’m not scared of death.” Cinna declared.

“Maybe ‘cause you never had to watch him in the eyes.” he snorted, his mind flashing to a jungle where everything was deceptively beautiful and where everything had been a trap. But what would a Capitol understand about that? Even a good man like Cinna… There was no understanding what it was to fear death, your own and your loved ones’, until you had lived through it. Haymitch had lived with it all his life, he hardly knew anything else. Even after his Games… The fear had chased him in his nightmares. The will to live, to survive, too strong for him to entertain any thought of ending it. He despised himself for having survived it all – for having survived them all – but he would have despised himself even more if he had given up on that thirst for life. Even if what he had could barely be called that. “He’s gonna let us stew a little, you know. It’s punishment not… prevention.”

The Capitol didn’t have anything to fear from them anymore and he knew how Snow liked his mind games. He doubted either of them was going to kick the bucket the following day. No… The President would give them time to worry about it first. And the moment they would let their guard down just a little…

“Do you think we will ever win?” Cinna asked, sounding desperate. “Do you think one day… The Games will be over? Panem will be free?”

He leaned against the stone of the building, taking a long drag of his cigarette. He didn’t answer the question.

He had no answer to give.

They smoked in silence until they couldn’t put off going back inside anymore.

Effie immediately made a beeline for him, all ruffled feathers because he wasn’t supposed to disappear like that and leave her alone to deal with everything. Like she hadn’t always been the one to shoulder everything in all the years they had worked together… But he figured appearances still had to be maintained and his place was, for all it mattered, at her side. That was the comedy they had to sell the world. Mentor and escort looking proudly at their newest victors.

She frowned when she smelled his breath.

“You smoked.” she accused. She fished a mint from her clutch and he took it without argument. “Haymitch…”

Her mask shattered for a second, letting him know just how worried she was. She recovered quickly enough but he saw it. He never smoked unless she was and he had no liquor to partake in – to each their own poison but they shared sometimes. He hated it and she knew that.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” he promised, forcing a smirk that must have looked very fake because she stared hard at him. He had to nudge her and to remind her that she needed to keep an eye on things for her to leave him alone.

Soon, too soon, it was time for them to go home and for the Capitol team to go back to the train. The moment the cameras were turned off, everyone seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief. Effie immediately wrapped the children in a bear hug, providing a thousand of unnecessary and unwanted advices.

Portia briefly hugged him, all smiles. She looked so casual and free from worry that he supposed Cinna had yet to inform her of the latest developments.

He shook Cinna’s hand. No words passed between them. Everything had been said and anything more would feel hollow and redundant.

It was noisy in the Justice Building hall. Everyone was talking at once, the crew and the prep teams were congratulating each other on a job well done, Undersee was going from group of people to group of people to give out handshakes…

Finally, Effie let go of the children to turn to him – he had purposefully hung at the back of the room, where they would have the most privacy, but she didn’t call him out on that. She pursed her lips and fixed his crooked tie as if it was the most important thing in the world.

Her fingers lingered against his throat in something that wasn’t quite a caress.

“I took the liberty of having your phone fixed while we were in the city.” she told him casually. “I suggest you answer it so we can start organizing this wedding.”

The cheer in her voice was forced, her voice loud to satisfy any eavesdropper. She was so good at this game… She would be alright, he decided, she was too good to be caught being anything but a loyal little Capitol drone. She was clever that way.

And he had never thought he would be that happy about it.

“Sure.” he shrugged.

For the second time that night, his easy compliance seemed to trigger alarm bells in her head.

She studied him for a second but he kept his features schooled in casual detachment and, in the end, she simply placed a hand on his shoulder and pressed a goodbye kiss to his cheek. Her lips, too, lingered.

“I will call you soon.” she promised. “Do not be a stranger.”

She turned away and he was struck by the thought he would probably never see her again.

This was the last time.

This was the last conversation they would have face to face.

This was…

He grabbed her wrist before she could get away and tugged her back to him, catching her in an awkward hug. Nobody was really paying attention to them and, if they did, his behavior could easily have been explained by an excess of liquor. He was affectionate when drunk and everybody in that room knew that.

She knew he wasn’t drunk though.

His breath was short and a bit rocky. He held her tight, tighter than he had ever hold her, tight enough that he was probably crushing her. He lost himself in her smell for a second, the heavy perfume mixed with hairspray and the cosmetic powder… That was her escort’s smell. When she was naked in his bed, bare from her armor… She smelt like the fruity shampoo she used and that unique scent that was hers. Both were intoxicating to him. Both were hers.

She clung to his shoulders like she was drowning, her sharp nails digging into his flesh through the heavy fabric of his jacket. He welcomed the small familiar pain. The scratches on his back would disappear in a day or two and he would have nothing to remember her by.

The hug was too intense.

There was a lump in his throat and a tension in the air…

“You are scaring me.” she whispered.

He closed his eyes briefly, aware that they didn’t have much time, that he would have to let her go soon or trigger an attention he didn’t want.

“You made me happy.” he mumbled in her ear. “At times. You made me happy.” She let out a sharp breath as if something had hit her straight in the chest. He didn’t give her time to recover. He wanted it said. Selfishly, he wanted it said. It might not sound like much what he was offering – at times wasn’t the most romantic thing someone had said to her probably but it was the truth and, for him, it was a lot. For a long time, he hadn’t thought he would even have a at times sort of happiness. He had been too stupid to see it before and maybe it was for the best but maybe… “Be happy, you deserve that. You find someone good, don’t settle for a rich old guy. You find someone worthy and… Be happy. You do that for me, yeah?”

Her whole body tensed in his arms. She stopped breathing.

And then her nails left his shoulder to stab his nape as she drew back a little to look at him straight in the eyes.

“You stupid man, what have you done?” she hissed.

“The right thing.” he scoffed, low enough that it wouldn’t carry. “At least, I tried to. Should have known better, really.” He sighed. “Just… Remember what I said. Forget about me. Move on. Be happy.”

He stepped back before she could say anything else but she didn’t move, she didn’t resume her act.

She stood there and stared helplessly at him, her eyes shiny.

That was the definitive sort of goodbyes and, despite how worried she had been looking since the previous night, he could tell she hadn’t been expecting it.

And it left her terrified.

He was a little terrified too under the bravado.

He had never thought it would be so difficult to accept he wouldn’t see her again.

“Perhaps I can help.” she insisted.

“No.” He instinctively grabbed her arm then glanced around and let go. Peeta was looking at them but the boy quickly averted his eyes when Haymitch caught him. He was too far to hear anything anyway. “I want you as far from this one as you can get, yeah? You want to do something for me, you stay safe. Swear it. I’m serious, Effie.”

Her lips wobbled but he didn’t make the mistake of touching her again. They stared straight at each other until she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and collected herself. Once she looked the part of the bright and bubbly escort again, she faked a confident smile.

She was smart. A bit reckless when it was about people she loved but, ultimately, she was smart. He trusted her to know a lost battle – a lost war, really.

“I swear.” she said, her voice breaking a little, in total contrast with her general attitude. “I will call you soon.”

“You do that, sweetheart.” he smirked.

The tension slowly left his shoulders with the certainly she wouldn’t put herself unnecessarily in danger.

He wished he could kiss her.

They had never really done that before, kiss each other goodbye…

Maybe they should have.

Maybe there were other things they should have done too, things they should have said…

Then again, maybe it was better this way. Not less painful but… cleaner.

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #into that good night

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