Chapter Text
“There you are, my darlings, it’s been too long!”
Effie hurried forward toward to embrace her kids. Peeta got to her first, and threw his arms around her. “We’ve missed you, Effie.”
“I missed you, too, my dear.”
Katniss stepped in as Peeta let go, and Effie hugged the girl tightly. “How are you, my girl?”
“Glad to see you,” she answered.
Katniss released her, smiling. Effie touched her cheek. “You look well.” She looked at Peeta. “You both do.”
Peeta grinned. “Thanks, Effie. You look like you’re doing good, too.”
“Thank you, dear,” she answered graciously. In truth, she looked significantly more plain than they’d ever seen her, she was certain. Nevertheless, last time she’d been to Twelve, she had still been underweight and suffering from insomnia, so maybe she did look better.
The kids parted, and Effie looked past them.
“Hey, Effie.”
Her eyes locked with familiar gray ones. “Haymitch.” She pushed down the nerves that fluttered up in her stomach and stepped forward to him. Thankfully, he extended his arms to her and she gladly embraced him.
The familiarity of the hug had a soothing effect on her, and she was disappointed when he pulled back. “You look different,” he commented with a little smile.
“Yes, well - one must adapt with the trends, you know,” she answered. The crisp white dress she wore was only accented by a bright turquoise collar, and her hair, while not its natural color, was at least visible. Wigs were no longer financially practical, though everyone in the newly-minted Panem City claimed it was a fashion movement to return to natural hair. Her makeup was more subdued, and the foundation mimicked her natural skin tone. She was even wearing three-inch heels.
Haymitch didn’t give an opinion one way or the other; he simply smirked. “Of course one must.” Effie thought, though, that he looked pleasantly surprised.
They smiled at each other without saying anything for just a beat too long. “Well,” Effie said brightly, overcompensating for the pause, “I’m so glad to see all of you. You must all fill me in on what’s happened in Twelve since I last saw you.”
They all walked together from the train station, through town and up the road to the Victor’s Village, though the sign had been removed, Effie noticed. Katniss and Peeta filled her in on the local news - the new medicine factory, rebuilding the town, Haymitch’s geese. Haymitch chimed in every so often to add a snarky opinion.
Peeta went on ahead to drop Effie’s bag at Haymitch’s house. “We have the guest room at his place all set up for you,” Peeta commented.
“Hope that’s okay,” Haymitch added nonchalantly.
Effie hoped that she wasn’t blushing at brightly as it felt. “Of course that’s all right; why wouldn’t it be?” She smiled brightly. “I like the idea that your house gets cleaned at least once every few years.”
Dinner was at Katniss and Peeta’s house, and Effie was glad to see that her first impression had been right - they were both doing amazingly better. They had fallen into a nice rhythm with each other. Katniss was still not the best conversationalist, but there was vast improvement from the severe depression she’d been in last time.
As for Haymitch, he was clearly in a good mood. The sarcastic comments were kept to a minimum, or at least, they were generally made in good humor.
After they had an amazing apple tart that Peeta had baked for the occasion, and sat around the table talking for another hour or so, Haymitch announced that he was turning in for the night and stood up. “You coming, or are you hanging with the kids for a bit?” he asked her.
Effie arched an eyebrow at him. “As much as I would like to hang with the kids,” she said ironically, “I think I’d better come over and get settled. It’s been a long day.”
They said goodnight and went over to the other house. “I’m having a drink; you want one?” Haymitch asked.
“I wouldn’t mind a cup of tea,” Effie replied.
Haymitch threw her a dirty look over his shoulder. “Because that’s obviously what I meant.”
“Well never mind, if it’s too much trouble,” she said.
He moved toward the kitchen, smirking. “No, no, can’t have you thinking I’m not a proper host.”
Effie smiled sweetly. “Thank you.”
He disappeared into the kitchen, and Effie made herself comfortable in the living room. Finally, several minutes of clinking and plunking around in the kitchen later, Haymitch reappeared with her tea in one hand and his glass of whiskey in the other.
“Haymitch,” she said warmly, “An actual teacup with a saucer! I’m so proud!”
“Yeah, well don’t get used to it,” he said. “I’m still me.”
“So,” he said conversationally, seating himself in the armchair opposite her, “You’ve been overly cheerful so far. Tell me all the news that you didn’t consider to be ‘polite dinner conversation.’”
Effie shifted in her seat. He knew her awfully well. “Things are fairly tense in the City right now,” Effie told him.
Haymitch swirled the liquid around in his glass.
“The Baby Boom law is causing all sorts of problems there.”
Haymitch rolled his eyes and immediately became agitated. “That law,” he spit out. “Well what did they expect? You turn people in baby-factories and treat them like livestock, and of course they’re freaking out. The whole thing is insane. It’s almost as bad as the Games.”
“I’ve heard all sorts of whispers. From what I’ve heard it’s causing rapes, suicides... It’s not good,” she said.
Haymitch grimaced, and shook his head. “Not to mention everybody having unprotected sex - pretty soon the entire population of Panem’s gonna have the clap.”
Effie bit her lip. This wasn’t a situation she could make light of.
“Thank god the kids have another couple years before they’re affected by it,” Haymitch commented. “By then, it ought to be repealed. There’s no way it’ll last.”
Time, she thought. A luxury that I don’t have.
“Shit’s gonna hit the fan soon.”
She looked at him. “You think?”
“For sure. The first deadline just passed. We’ll see how they handle enforcing it.” He was scowling. “I don’t see how they’ll do it without getting Peacekeepers involved.”
“You think there’ll be another war?” she asked quietly.
Haymitch’s mouth pressed into a firm line, and he shrugged. “Don’t know. Would certainly be ironic, wouldn’t it? Killing a bunch of people in the name of increasing the population?”
Effie was surprised he hadn’t commented on her specifically, yet. Maybe it was too awkward for him to bring up. She took a deep breath, preparing herself. “I don’t think I have the fortitude to stand against the law again,” she admitted.
Haymitch looked at her strangely.
Why was he looking at her like that? “I don’t want to personally test how they’ll handle enforcing it,” she explained.
He continued to appear confused for a moment, and then suddenly sat forward in his chair.
“How old are you?”
Effie bristled. “Young enough to meet the requirements, unfortunately. How old did you think I was?”
Haymitch got defensive. “I don’t know, I never thought about it really. I guess I assumed we were the same age.”
“Well we’re not.”
He paused for a moment. “You’re not going to tell me?”
“Honestly, Haymitch, it’s not the most important thing in the world at the moment. Suffice it to say I am young enough that the government expects me to produce a child.”
“Shit,” he uttered, staring at her. “I can see why you didn’t bring this up at dinner.” Fire burned in his eyes. “Wait it out. They’re banking on people’s cooperation for this to work.”
“I can’t take the risk. The law isn’t going to be overturned in two months, and that’s how long I have.”
“Why, what’s gonna happen in two months?”
“I’ve received notice for my insemination.”
Haymitch looked thunderstruck. “Your what?”
Effie felt herself turning red, and took a steadying breath. “Don’t make me say it again,” she said in a whisper. She broke eye contact with him and set her teacup down on the end-table.
“Holy... fuck,” he cursed, staring. His forehead was furrowed. “Effie, I’m so sorry.”
She shrugged unconvincingly. “To be honest... I’ve accepted the idea of having a child. It seems there’s no way out of it.”
“So you’re going to go through with it?” he said in surprise.
"I don't really see that I have a choice." Effie shook her head. “But I can’t bear the thought of carrying around some anonymous donor’s child inside me, forcibly implanted there by the government. It’s too...” She felt herself getting panicky, and took a slow breath. She couldn’t even finish that thought.
Haymitch’s face was frozen in a grimace.
“I’ve been approached by several different men in the City about it. A few weren’t even that awful, but...” She broke off, trying to think of how to explain. “No matter how I try to convince myself that it’s better than the alternative, it still feels ...alien. And what if the man then turns out to be a nightmare? People can fool you. What if he seems fine but turns out to be completely horrible after we have a child? Then I can’t get him out of my life, ever! And my child would share his genetics!”
Haymitch shook his head and took a long drink.
“It’s all I can think about; all the time. It’s consuming my life.”
“Well of course it is. Your life doesn’t belong to you, anymore,” Haymitch said bitterly. “It’s just like when the Games were going on. Like the whole revolution was for nothing.”
“That’s not true,” Effie said softly. “You know that’s not true.” Haymitch sneered and shook his head, but Effie caught his gaze. “One hundred thirty-eight. That’s how many children would have been murdered by now, if the Games were still on. And twelve of them would have been ours.”
Haymitch frowned, but he didn’t argue.
Effie licked her lips. She hadn’t found a natural way to introduce what she needed to say into the conversation. It was getting to the point that she was afraid she’d let it go if she didn’t just come out and say it.
“The thing is... I think with the right person, having a baby might be all right,” she intimated. “But when I think about the right person, there’s only one person who comes to mind. The only person who really makes any sense, at all, ...is you.”
Haymitch became completely still. Her words hovered in the silence between them, and Effie was half-sick waiting to hear his reaction. His face was a complete blank. Unreadable.
She couldn’t bear the tension any longer. “We have history, Haymitch; we could make it work.”
He still didn’t speak. He rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth, his forehead creased.
“So your whole reason for coming to Twelve was to convince me to put a baby in you,” he said finally.
Effie’s stomach flip-flopped. “I came to talk to you,” she amended.
“About putting a baby in you.”
“Stop saying that,” she insisted.
They stared at each other silently. Haymitch’s scowl deepened the creases in his face. “What’ll they do if you just don’t show up? Have they told you?”
Effie looked at him blankly.
“You know, at the lab... for the thing.”
He meant the insemination. “I don’t know exactly, but...” She could think of dozens of things that might happen. After being held prisoner by the Capitol for almost a year, she didn’t even need an imagination to come up with what the government might do to her. She suddenly felt cold.
The next thing she knew, she was opening her eyes and Haymitch’s warm hands were clasped around hers. She lifted her chin slightly from where it was tucked down against her chest, and was embarrassed to realize that she was shaking and clammy. “I’m sorry, I...” She trailed off, at a loss.
Haymitch shushed her. “You shouldn’t have to be afraid of the government,” he voiced roughly. “This is exactly what I was talking about.”
Effie counted out her breathing, trying to still her shivering body. Inhale, two, three, four; exhale, two, three, four.
“I can’t risk finding out how they’ll enforce it,” she said when she was a little less shaky. “...Even though this isn’t Snow’s administration. It’s President Paylor. Whom we both voted for,” she reminded him.
Haymitch grunted.
She wasn’t sure why, but for some reason his grunt almost made her smile. Almost. It was such a Haymitch sound. Maybe, she considered, she had missed him more than she realized.
He looked troubled, and tired. And older, she suddenly discerned. Not ancient, just older. The creases in his face were more defined. The grey in his hair was more conspicuous. He had the look of a man who felt his age.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been good about keeping in touch,” she apologized. “I don’t have a decent excuse.”
Haymitch glanced up at her, and shrugged. “You’ve had other things to think about.”
“Not enough to excuse two years’ silence,” she maintained.
He shrugged again, and returned his focus to their hands. “I was glad to hear from you,” he admitted.
Effie felt some warmth flow back into her. She squeezed his fingers where they curled into her palms, and held on tightly.
They had left things in such an uncertain place, when they’d parted last. She’d visited Twelve, just as she’d promised she would when Haymitch and Katniss had first left the Capitol (No, Panem City, she corrected herself), but things with Haymitch had been hesitant. Around the children and in the presence of others he’d behaved warmly toward her, and treated her like a dear friend, which of course meant they picked on each other and bantered as usual. She’d stayed in his guest bedroom, at his invitation.
But when they were alone together, things had been strained. He barely spoke. He was distant. And yet every night he had come to her room and kissed her, and spent the night. They’d never discussed what was happening, or how they felt. At the end of the week, he had hugged her goodbye at the train platform, and that had been that. She got on the train and went home.
Haymitch let out something like a sigh, and ran his thumbs over the backs of her hands. He lifted his gaze and said quietly, “It’s not right.”
His voice brought her back into the present. “It’s a lot to ask, I know,” she replied.
He made an annoyed face. “It’s not just that; it’s wrong. The whole thing. Messin’ around with people’s lives.”
“You wouldn’t have to be very involved,” Effie suggested gently. “I’m not asking you to raise a family with me. Just...”
“Just impregnate you, hm?” he said indelicately.
“Haymitch,” she admonished him.
“What? That’s what you’re asking for, right? That’s what you’re being forced to ask me for?”
“Yes, I suppose so!” she conceded. “And knowing you as I do, I’m sure you want to stand on principle, but I need your help. For my sake, just consider it. Please.”
He scowled again, and squeezed her hands a little too hard. “I don’t want a kid. And I certainly don’t want a kid of mine raised in the Capitol.”
“There is no more Capitol,” she reminded him.
“Bullshit,” he sneered, letting go of her hands. He stood up and paced over into the foyer. “I’m sorry sweetheart,” he said, grabbing his jacket and throwing it on, “But this place is fucking suffocating. I need some air.” He escaped out the front door and left her to sit alone in his empty living room.