Chapter 1

In District Twelve, the darkness would have been absolute at this time of the night but not in the Capitol, and certainly not when the Third Quarter Quell was still being played in the arena. The city was draped in bright lights and once in a while, fireworks would go off.

In the streets, even at this late hour, people were out in throngs, partying and drinking, and placing bets. In houses where people elected to stay in, the televisions were switched on to watch the Games or programme fillers Caesar Flickerman had going on when the Games were slow.

In the Penthouse, Effie was busy shuffling papers and arranging them neatly into a file. They were important documents. They held sponsors' information and details of Twelve's bank account. They were doing quite well and there were still plenty of money even after Haymitch had sent out the balm to Katniss days before after the fog.

A single calloused touch on her wrist made her pause. Effie shifted her gaze to Haymitch curiously.

"You remember what I said?"

She did.

"I do," she nodded once and whispered out of the corner of her mouth. "Midnight at the rooftop."

It was not an odd request. Over the years, they had on several occasion discuss certain matters at the roof top - away from Capitol bugs - but the timing of his request was indeed odd.

With Katniss and Peeta both back in the arena and given the fact that the alliance were currently putting Beetee's plan in motion, Effie could hardly believe that Haymitch wanted her to meet him at the rooftop now of all time. She would have thought that he would stay put where he was until the plan had succeed but Haymitch had been specific about the exact hour she should be up on the rooftop. Another peculiarity Effie had picked on.

Haymitch brushed his thumb over her knuckles, stole a glance at her and went back to watching the Games where Katniss had just kissed Peeta, promising to meet him at midnight just like she had promised Haymitch.

"Haymitch..." she began.

Effie swallowed, a helpless expression settling on her face. A terrible feeling swirled at the pit of her stomach at the thought of Katniss and Peeta being separated. They should stick together. She knew the people in the alliance and like Haymitch, they were all survivors. She could not say with absolute certainty that they would not use this chance to cut Katniss and Peeta out of the picture. Almost immediately, the guilt bubbled up at having entertained such ill thoughts about Finnick or Beetee or Johanna.

"Will this work? They should stick together, Haymitch. This doesn't look..."

"You're right. They should never let each other out of their sight," a muscle in his jaw twitched. "It has to work now."

Effie let out of a breath and folded her hands on her knees. Lately, Haymitch barely spoke to her, guarding something close to his heart, a heavy secret he was not willing to share with her. Not yet, he had said.

She did not begrudge him for it. Everyone had secrets but he seemed burdened by it. He was often exhausted and tired, and constantly making up excuses to be somewhere. She had seen him with Plutarch Heavensbee twice; once during the Victory Tour and the other before Finnick began to receive breads in the arena.

Effie was suspicious, naturally, but she had always trusted him, foolish as it was. He had never given her any reason not to. Haymitch was brash and definitely rude but there was a certain dignity he carried in him, a rare code of honour he swathed himself with, something Effie was sure he did not realise it himself. Haymitch had never lifted a hand to her and when he was angry to the point where his hands shook, he would throw a vase or a plate or anything within reach but never at her. He never bothered sugar coating his words. They were blunt and hurtful but they were always the truth even if she did not want to hear it. Those truths had protected her and guarded her, and she had learnt to play the Games to keep herself alive and her mask in place. Haymitch looked out for her in his own unorthodox way.

Her worst fears were realised when Johanna Mason jumped on Katniss and plunged a dagger into her arm. Katniss writhed on the floor, struggling to push Johanna away.

"Haymitch!" her voice carried a tone of warning and worry as it resonated in the empty Penthouse.

"Now."

Momentarily distracted, her gaze cut to the wall clock. Five minutes to midnight.

"But Katniss is - You have to do - "

"You're wasting time," he growled.

His lack of concern over Johanna breaking the alliance and attacking one of his charges and his insistence that she move to the room left her confused. She turned towards him ready to order him to get his act together but nothing prepared her for the grip on her arm. It was firm enough to haul her to her feet as he steered her towards the door leading up to the roof.

Effie made a soft noise of impatience. "Haymitch, what on earth – "

The sound of multiple heavy footsteps made her pause mid-sentence. They both stopped where they were. When her gaze locked with Haymitch's, his grey eyes darkened slightly to reflect his worry. Her breath hitched.

"Shh," he pressed a finger to her lips. "We're not alone."

His demeanour changed instantly but he never released his hold on her which by now had turned into a death grip, guaranteed to bruise her. Haymitch straightened to his full height, tense and edgy. With his free hand, he extricated his knife.

Effie's eyes widened at the sight of it. Were they expecting a fight? Those people were probably Avoxes, she tried to reason but he would not hear it.

"When I tell you to run, you run. You don't ask questions."

"I – I don't understand. What – "

Haymitch nudged her forward. They crept towards the door, trying to be as quiet as possible. They just needed to get to the rooftop, he said but in the state she was in she didn't think to question what was so important that they had to be at the rooftop.

There were voices speaking; men in authoritative tone giving out orders to search the Penthouse. They were coming closer. Shadows began to appear on the walls; multiple figures moving about in the Penthouse. Any second now and they would be seen.

Haymitch abandoned all efforts to be discreet. "Run!" he shoved her forward and she stumbled past the door. "Now, sweetheart!"

He was scaring her but Effie righted herself and forced her feet to move, one step in front of the other. She was halfway up the small flight of stairs that would take her to the rooftop when a hovercraft descended, startling her.

"Go!" Haymitch urged. "Run, Effs! I'm right behind you."

"Haymitch Abernathy!" a voice boomed, though it was nearly drowned by the droning of the hovercraft's engine. "Don't move - you are under arrest."

Effie turned at the sound of his name. Haymitch was in full view of the intruders but she was partially hidden. They had not seen her yet. She took another careful step up on the stairs to hide herself.

"Get to the fucking rooftop," he hissed.

When Haymitch fell and hit the ground with a loud sickening crunch, her mouth opened in a silent scream. He was twitching and convulsing. His fist curled and uncurled as he tried to control the pain from the taser.

From the reflection on the glass door separating the roof top from the Penthouse, she saw the reflection of men shrouded in the familiar white uniforms of a Peacekeeper approaching him with their guns raised.

"Haymitch," she whispered hoarsely. "Please, get up!"

It was useless and she knew it, too. His muscles were paralysed and he wouldn't be getting up without anyone's help. His face was scrunched in pain

"Miss Trinket!" someone called out urgently for her.

She turned to see Plutarch Heavensbee at the hovercraft, his hair flying wildly about him. He mouthed something, and gestured wildly for her to come over. Effie ignored him. She couldn't leave Haymitch behind. She couldn't.

"You need to come now or they will get you, too!" he shouted to be heard.

"I can't!"

"He wants you in this hovercraft and you will do as he asked," Plutarch ordered. "You have twenty seconds, Miss Trinket! We need you onboard."

Effie hesitated.

"Now, please! We have to hurry!"

You run. Don't ask questions.

"I'm sorry," she whispered and turned tail, running towards the waiting hovercraft.

The hovercraft was hovering a few inches away from the roof and if it wasn't for the adrenaline rushing through her veins, she would be paralysed with fear to even do it but she jumped off the rooftop and into the waiting hovercraft.

"I got you," Plutarch panted, pulling her in.

The first thing she did was to call him out on it out of sheer terror. "You couldn't have just landed on the rooftop?"

"It will take far too much time to take off. It will be easier this - "

"Haymitch," she gasped, not wanting to hear about anything else anymore. Her mind was a jumble mess. "I shouldn't have … I shouldn't have left him. What have I done?"

Effie did not realise that she was crying until she felt something salty in her mouth. She raised a hand to her cheeks. Plutarch handed her a handkerchief and she turned away from him, not wanting to see the Head Gamemaker's look of pity.

She caught sight of the small window and hurried over to see the Training Centre slowly vanishing behind them.

"No!" she pressed herself against the window. "You have to turn around. He's still there. He's still there and we need to help him!"

"We are running on a schedule, Miss Trinket. Haymitch is lost to us now. There is – "

Perhaps it was the flippant way he said it without any due regard for her or perhaps the idea that Haymitch was lost to her that spurred her to launch at Plutarch without restrain. Her long nails scratched against his arm.

"He's not lost," she raised her voice and pounded her fist on his chest, not at all caring that it was rude of her to do that. "Haymitch is at the Penthouse! You just have to turn back for him!"

"He would not have wanted us to go back for him," he grabbed her wrist and held it away from him. "I'm sorry, Miss Trinket, but Haymitch knew the risks of this operation."

The fight left her and she staggered back from him, looking lost and dejected.

"What operation?" she asked. "What is truly happening here? Haymitch would say nothing to me and he would not tell me anything. But I am not so clueless, Mr. Heavensbee. I noticed things. I noticed the way he behaved…"

Steering her away from the window towards one of the room in the hovercraft, Plutarch began to talk.

"Haymitch could not divulge any of the plans to you. It was for your own safety in case you were brought in for questioning. We needed to be careful and to take precautions. This part right here- ," he rubbed his temple tiredly, "- this is his job. He was to be the one to tell you everything and explain to you your role in District Thirteen."

"District Thirteen?" she repeated, feeling incredibly lost. She hated repeating things that way. It made her feel stupid.

The look of alarm on her face made Plutarch sigh.

"The Rebellion, Miss Trinket, you are a part of it now."

I'm rather nervous about posting this story but I wanted to explore the 'what ifs' should plans go wrong or if Effie's and Haymitch's position were reversed, how would it impact them and others. So let me know what you think of it! if you like the premise of this story? hate it? Please leave a review and thanks for reading.

As with Raptors, I will try to post this every Sunday.