Boy Problems

Effie wanted to say something, but again no sound came from her throat. Her hand went up to her throat as she continued to stare at Ramon, who was lying unconscious on the floor. Slowly, as if he was coming out of a trance, Haymitch turned to her. There was still a glassy look in his gray eyes, but she could see unease in them. He moved so quickly that she barely noticed it, despite her heightened state of alertness.

Almost naturally, as if they had known each other for ages, Haymitch touched her hip with one hand. His fingers gently and cautiously wrapped around the fabric of her dress, while his other hand shot up to her neck. Effie felt his attentive gaze on her skin, felt the burning throb under his cool fingertips. When a sharp pain shot through her head, she gasped and wanted to jump back, but Haymitch's hand on her hip held her in place.

"He got you pretty good," he murmured without looking up.

Slowly, Effie's heartbeat calmed, but the shock in her limbs remained. Her eyes were still staring past Haymitch. At Ramon. She couldn't tear her gaze away from the boy. "Effie." Haymitch tried to bring her out of her trance. But she didn't react. She felt like she was going to fall forward at any moment. Even though she was breathing again, she could still feel Ramon's grip on her throat. The blood throbbed under her skin where he had touched her.

"Effie," Haymitch said again, more softly this time. He cupped her face with his hands and turned her head toward him, breaking her gaze away from Ramon. She let him do it, not even wondering about his sudden concern, as fear still coursed through her limbs. Finally, she sighed and looked up at Haymitch. Their faces were separated by only a small distance; she could see the liquid silver in his gray eyes. Even now, this closeness didn't feel strange to her, which would have certainly shocked her under normal circumstances. Effie simply lifted her trembling hands and clutched Haymitch's upper arms, as if afraid she might collapse at any moment.

Under normal circumstances, the perceptive and people-reading Effie would have noticed that Haymitch's concern seemed to increase exponentially with her lack of response. His lips moved, but the words came to her only faintly, as if he were on the other side of a door. Like a distant whisper, it could just as easily have been her subconscious speaking to her. "That was probably your first violent ... confrontation. For you, this is probably not ... everyday life." The whisper grew faster, more frantic, as if time were slipping away. "On a scale of one to ten, I'd give that at most a three, but I think for you it's enough to end in trauma. Don't worry, it was the same for all of us the first time. The first encounter with death. Even though for us, there was no one there to save us."

Effie flinched as if she had been given an electric shock. In an instant, the invisible door between them opened, and the distance vanished. A fleeting expression of absent-minded openness, which Effie could glimpse in his irises for a fraction of a second, disappeared as suddenly as if Haymitch had slammed another invisible door shut.

The first encounter with death. Effie's lips parted, but no sound escaped her throat. Was it really as dramatic as Haymitch had made it out to be? Or had she just imagined the words? Supporting the latter was the fact that they didn't sound like something Haymitch would even think in her presence.

"It's all right. Do you hear me, Effie? He won't harm you anymore." Effie had rarely heard him speak in such a gentle tone. Was he trying to hide the truth from her, or was the threat truly over? And why was that enormous word suddenly in the room? Death. Had she really been that close to death? Had Ramon actually tried to kill her? Effie had been present, yet she was uncertain. It couldn't be that simple to die. Death was too immense for that.

The thought that she was overdramatizing finally allowed Effie to clear her throat. You're making a scene, chided her mother's voice. The boy might be frustrated, but that certainly wasn't an attempt at murder. But when Effie tried to speak, her voice failed her. All that escaped her vocal cords was a cough. She coughed again and again.

Overwhelmed by the situation and confused about reality, Effie's emotions finally boiled over. Knowing that she would break down in tears in front of Haymitch again only made the ensuing sobbing worse. In a gesture of masking, she held a hand over her mouth and tried to free herself from his grip as panic flooded her.

"Easy now," Haymitch murmured, almost soothingly as he reached for her shoulders. Not only had she failed to create distance from him – instead, they now stood closer together than before. "That's probably the most normal reaction. It's just the shock. It'll pass soon enough, I think. You need to drink something, and maybe one of your ... Capitol doctors should take a look at you."

As Haymitch received a sharp look for his remark, a knot in his chest seemed to loosen. Something suspiciously akin to relief flashed across his otherwise passive features. A muted smile lifted the corners of his mouth into a rare grimace. "See, you can already be mad at me! Then you'll be fine again soon."

Part of Effie was grateful to him for being so ready to forget this embarrassing scene. She gathered all her remaining strength to banish the fear from her veins and forced out an annoyed sigh. But when she found her voice again a second later, it didn't fit the role she was trying to play. "Is he dead?" Effie's voice was no louder than a gasping breath and sounded as rough as sandpaper.

In a quick gesture, Haymitch wiped individual tears from her cheeks, as if he were more than willing to join her in this theater. Dramatically, he shook his head. "I'm not crazy. Snow would be pretty pissed if I offed one of his tributes." Obviously, his words were meant to make her laugh, but Effie didn't understand the joke. The thought of death stirred a thick fog in her mind. Simultaneously, the gaze in her eyes darkened.

"Don't say you're disappointed about it," Haymitch suddenly remarked, assessing her without judgment.

"Of course not," Effie replied, a hint too indignantly, and judging by Haymitch's expression, he didn't miss it. Yet Haymitch dropped the subject and didn't press further. Something almost thoughtful had replaced the concern on his features now that Effie was speaking again.

"He could wake up any minute," Effie said, still with a faltering voice. The fear was finding its way back to the forefront. Her pupils dilated at the thought. She didn't notice Haymitch leaning in towards her in response.

"We're notify the Peacekeepers, right now," Haymitch decided. "You better call your doctor if you want to avoid swelling."

"But what about Elowen? She's already waiting for me." He didn't understand how she could still think about her duties and responsibilities in such a situation.

"Honestly, I don't understand how you can still be thinking about that girl," he replied in a tone that left no room for discussion. Eventually, he sighed inwardly, as if this would throw off his entire schedule for the day. "I'll take Elowen to training. Shouldn't be too difficult."

"You would do that?" Effie's voice had softened, and she smiled slightly, even if it didn't reach her eyes. "What about Ramon?"

"Sweetheart, don't worry. The Peacekeepers will have to deal with the boy. They'll probably have to keep him under supervision from now on. It doesn't happen often, but every now and then there are cases like this." With these words, Haymitch turned around and disappeared. He left Ramon lying where he was.

Effie eyed the unconscious boy one last time and then quickly turned around. Haymitch was probably right, she should see a doctor.

oOo

After dropping Elowen off at the Training Center, Haymitch made his way to the nearest bar. The girl had been surprised when he knocked on her door to pick her up. He had felt like an idiot, considering he had never knocked on any of his tributes' doors or even lifted a finger to make their stay in the Capitol easier in the past fourteen years. He knew they would both be dead in two weeks. It wasn't a guess, but bitter reality. Over the years, he had developed an intuition that allowed him to recognize potential victors. Pretty dumb considering that so far, that intuition had only encountered losers.

Elowen had asked about Effie, but Haymitch, who didn't know how to deal with children, had just shrugged. After that, she hadn't asked him anything else. The rest of the way had been silent, which suited him just fine. He wouldn't be as reckless as Effie and build a personal relationship with the girl. It would only make things harder in the end of the Games.

As Haymitch entered the bar, he saw Chaff already sitting at the counter, a glass of whiskey in hand. He gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder and then sat down next to him on one of the bar stools. Chaff turned his head towards him and grinned. "And here I was thinking I wouldn't see you anymore."

"What made you think that?" Haymitch muttered with narrowed eyes and then ordered himself a vodka.

"You seem to be pretty involved this year," Chaff replied with a shrug, downing the remaining brown-golden contents of his glass.

"New escort, she's having a tough time," replied Haymitch, downing the clear liquid the bartender placed in front of him in one greedy gulp. Haymitch raised his glass to indicate he wanted another.

"Since when are you interested in your escort?" Chaff laughed and gave him an amused glance. "I can't blame you, she's hot."

Haymitch shook his head. "She's a pain in the ass." For a moment, they both fell silent. Haymitch turned his new glass in his hand and pictured Effie. She was a pain and yet she was different. Or at least she seemed so. He sighed. Was it the alcohol speaking? He hadn't had much to drink after all. Perhaps Chaff was right, and he simply found her hot. After all those years with Petunia in his face, it was no wonder his senses were now playing tricks on him. Of course, he hadn't missed Effie's appearance. But no matter how good she looked, it didn't change her character – didn't change the fact that she was a Capitol.

"What are your odds this year?" Chaff asked after a while. The annual question. Both of them knew perfectly well what the odds were for the outsider Districts. Chaff was the last victor from 11, just as Haymitch was the last victor from 12. That said it all, considering they were both around thirty now. His victory was fourteen years ago, and Chaff's was even more years ago.

"The girl won't get far, she's small and innocent. They'll kill the boy for what he's pulling right now. So I don't have to worry. What about you?"

Chaff examined his glass and then leaned back to meet Haymitch's vacant gaze. "Same as always, really. The boy twelve and the girl fourteen. They won't survive the slaughter."

That's how it was in the Games. When a malnourished twelve-year-old crossed paths with a well-fed sixteen-year-old, luck was never on your side. May the odds be ever in your favor. Haymitch almost laughed. Instead, he nodded and emptied his glass.

"So, your boy's causing trouble?" Chaff looked at him curiously. Here in the Capitol, where one had to watch children from their own District die every year, any kind of gossip was a distraction. Besides, Haymitch and Chaff had nothing to hide from each other, even though technically they were still competitors. But that mattered little to few mentors here.

"He's angry at the Capitol, who would've thought? He nearly killed Effie this morning. Same drama yesterday. Today, he really got her. The Peacekeepers are dealing with him now," Haymitch recounted as he ordered another drink. He felt the craving in his limbs. He felt the annual pain slowly gnawing through his veins. Only alcohol helped numb this feeling.

Chaff nodded, and for a moment, Haymitch felt like Chaff could see his sudden change in mood. If Chaff noticed, he consciously didn't say anything about it. His friend had never been the type to pry into such matters. If one of them had something to say, they'd eventually bring up the topic on their own.

"That's how it goes sometimes," Chaff said, his eyes flashing. "Had it once too, but that's years ago. Some just don't know how to channel the anger."

"He's not wrong with his views," Haymitch snorted and then laughed. "Everyone knows I don't give a damn about the Capitol. I got my receipt for that, and only because it was already too late to hang me in the arena."

Chaff nodded absentmindedly. "They'll kill him, that's for sure. But from what I've seen of him so far ... He wouldn't win anyway. Looks strong, but he doesn't seem like a victor type to me."

"He's not," agreed Haymitch with his friend. "He wouldn't know how to deal with the Capitol. Sooner or later, they'd let him perish in a tragic accident. Wouldn't be the first time."

"Damn fucked up," muttered Chaff, slamming his empty glass on the counter to regain the bartender's attention. The bar was completely empty. Most mentors were busy with other things at this time. It was usually the outsiders who eventually ended up like Haymitch and Chaff. As far as Haymitch was concerned, he was lucky that it had only stayed with alcohol. There were victors who resorted to much worse. Compared to that, the golden liquid in his fingers was child's play.

"His parents are good people. They lost their other son to the Games just last year. I didn't even know the boy was his brother."

Chaff almost sympathetically patted Haymitch on the shoulder before changing the subject. "How's your Effie holding up now?" A faint grin crept onto his face as he watched Haymitch's expression darken.

The young victor shrugged. "She's pretty shaken up. Apparently, no one has tried to kill her yet."

"No kidding," Chaff replied with a smirk.

"What's up with you?" Haymitch shot back, fixing his gaze on Chaff, who was still half amusedly observing him.

"You seem different to me, that's all. You look tired, that woman must keep you on your toes," Chaff admitted. "I missed you last night. Usually, you wrap up the first day here with me." The bartender returned and poured the two men some orange liquid.

"As I said, she's absolutely dreadful, very persistent. Once she sets her mind on something, she sees it through, come what may," grumbled Haymitch, taking a sip of the orange concoction.

"Or come who may," laughed Chaff. "Does it taste good?"

Haymitch shrugged. "Not entirely sure yet, but there are worse things." Chaff nodded and tried some of the liquor. The liquid left a cold aftertaste in his throat, and Haymitch was sure he wouldn't make it back to the penthouse sober. "She's a pain in the ass," he continued. "But she's different, still. Somehow, she cares about the kids. Despite her odd Capitol brain, she tries her best to help them. She's different from Petunia."

Haymitch wondered why he was telling Chaff so much about Effie in the first place. Perhaps to convince him that his suspicions about her weren't right? Did he need confirmation that she might not be like the other people here in the Capitol?

Chaff sighed beside him. "Be careful. She's still one of them." He wouldn't say more about it. Not because there wasn't more to say, but because everything else would sound too speculative in Haymitch's ears. His friend didn't want to dictate how he should handle his affairs. He would only be there for him after his wrong decisions, just as Haymitch was there for him. It was paradoxical that as former victors, they knew exactly when to stay away from things and yet never did.

"As if I could ever forget," Haymitch replied, looking down at the glass in his hands. It had become warm in his grip. If there had been any of the orange liquid left in it, it would have kept his hands from sweating now.

For a moment, Haymitch closed his eyes and thought of his mother. He did this only very rarely and for good reasons, considering she had been dead since the year of his victory. Just like everyone else he had once loved. Haymitch knew that this extra work on the Games would come at a cost. It would be harder to forget. There are things you can try to repress forever, but you will never forget them.

oOo

Haymitch didn't know how he had made his way back to the penthouse. All he knew was that he had forgotten to pick Elowen up from training. That thought had come back to him on his way, but he had dismissed it. Hours had passed since Ramon's attack this morning, and Effie had surely picked her up herself.

He staggered down the hallway of their floor, passing Ramon's room. Two peacekeepers were stationed outside his door. Thank God. Now he had one less problem to worry about. He had actually meant to walk past Effie's room, but his drunken brain made him stop in front of her door. For a moment he just stood there, the world spinning around him. Then he knocked, and was startled when he realized that his knocking was like hammering.

Haymitch heard her light footsteps behind the door and then her face appeared in the doorway. He sighed to himself. She looked like a clown again. Her appearance after the attack appeared in his mind. Haymitch hadn't been sure what she was hiding under her wig and he had never really thought about it. But when he had seen the blonde curls that had fallen gently around her shoulders like a curtain, he had been amazed. Now she was wearing a pink wig with sparkling stars in it. Capitols and fashion ...

"Haymitch," Effie said in a friendly tone, her blue eyes meeting his and then concern showing in her eyes. "Are you okay?"

Haymitch took a step forward and leaned against the doorframe. "Everything's fine. I'm here to check on you." As soon as the words left his mouth, he cursed himself for it. What was she supposed to think of him now? She shouldn't believe for a moment that he actually cared about how she was doing, because he didn't.

Effie smiled and fully opened the door. "I am fine, thank you for asking," she replied. Haymitch already regretted his question, as she didn't stop talking. Her mouth was like a waterfall. "The doctor treated the injuries with a cream, and they disappeared immediately afterward, it does not even hurt anymore. I am so grateful for our advanced technology. Is it at the same level in your District? Of course, I cannot forget what happened, but at least you cannot see it on me anymore. Elowen has not suspected anything either, we just need to come up with some explanation for why Peacekeepers stand at Ramon's door."

"We?" Haymitch laughed and shook his head. "I think I'm already involved enough in all of this."

Effie's face darkened. "But you are their mentor, of course you are involved in the Games. Anyway, we already had this discussion this morning and it led to nothing. I do not want to argue with you again." Then she smiled at him again, but Haymitch could immediately see how fake it looked.

"Whatever," Haymitch replied, thinking again about what she had said about his Games. It made him angry. His level of alcohol and the state he was in didn't match. With a quick movement, he was about to turn to leave when, to his surprise, Effie grabbed his arm.

"Please wait," she said, and from the tone of her voice, Haymitch could tell that she was about to bring up a more serious topic. He braced himself and threw her a glance from his gray eyes. "What is going to happen with Ramon?"

-

Hi guys!

This week, I finally have more time again! I submitted my Bachelor's thesis and now I'm free until September. The summer can come! :D

Did you like this chapter? Let me know! :)

Skyllen