A/N: Hello everyone! First of all, I am ever so sorry for taking so long to update this story. I really am, especially those to whom I had promised to do so much, much quicker. However, I have far from given up on it!

I just went through a massive writer's-block, then I had to move back to Paris, after which my muse was shamefull stolen by Downton Abbey. [I'll actually publish stories about this show pretty soon, methinks.]

Anyway. If some of you are -hopefully- still interested in this story, here you go! I really hope you enjoy it... It's the longest chapter I ever wrote so far, so I hope it's not too filled with mistakes. Also, there are only two chapters left to this story, so brace yourselves.

I love you all so very much, thank you for all the appreciation you're giving me, it does mean a whole lot to me!
And, as always, reviews are the loveliest thing.

Enjoy, Wil~

PS: This chapter is dedicated to the marvellous Mette (OpheliaDevaux), for always being so lovely to me. You are the greatest friend ever!

Chapter 4.

He was swimming. The liquid felt cold and thick against his naked skin, as he struggled to keep on moving, without any apparent direction. Suddenly, he caught the sight of another body floating towards his. As he attempted to approach it, he noticed blond braids spread by the water. Maysilee.

He continued swimming frantically, reaching to grab her wrist. She seemed limp, lifeless. Haymitch felt adrenaline rushing in his veins, as he was merely meters from her. However, as soon as their skin touched, her flesh seemed to turn into some thick mud, instantly melting in the dark water.

As Maysilee melted before his very eyes, Haymitch could not repress a shriek of horror, which caused him to swallow a mouthful of water; or so he thought. He coughed, swallowing the liquid with difficulty. However, it wasn't water. It was absinth.

As soon as the alcohol made contact with Haymitch's throat, the surroundings began to vanish, gradually being covered by a thick, smoky fog. Delighted to have found something able to numb the pain in his chest, he began swallowing as much liquor as he could, coughing back almost as much, lost in a state between exhilaration and sheer madness.

But suddenly, the transparent liquid began to darken, its taste growing metallic. Haymitch looked at his forearms, now stained with dark red spots. Blood. The entire sea was turning to blood, its flows growing, swirling, dragging him further and further away from the distant shore.

Just like Maysilee's corpse had done a few moments before, more and more bodies began to appear, surrounding him, trying to grab him, desperately whimpering for his help. Children. Former tributes. They were all barely alive, injured. One had his skull slashed in two, an ax buried between his two eyes.

Haymitch began to drown. Or maybe he was actually falling, endlessly. There was blood and darkness everywhere. His feet suddenly collided with the floor, and he found himself in an empty corridor. Without thinking, he began to run, towards the only source of light.

As he grew closer to the light, he noticed another small figure, curled up on the floor, shaken by sobs and screams of pain. As soon as her voice reached his ears, he recognized her. Effie. Cursing under his breath, he began to run even quicker. Maysilee had just died, he couldn't let the same happened to Effie. He couldn't lose the two women he had ever loved at once.

He was finally arriving close to her, when he noticed something he hadn't seen before, and his blood turned cold. Effie was attacked by a multitude of colorful mockingjays, shrieking indistinctively, tearing pieces of her flesh apart. What was left of her face was distorted by sheer pain,

When he knelt by her side, she was barely more than a corpse. He tried to twist the neck of the remaining birds, catching one in each of his hands. One had dark blue feathers, the other red as blood, with a black beak. Caesar and Seneca, Haymitch realized. The birds were citizens from the Capitol, mutts.

Haymitch threw the birds away, after crushing their skulls to pieces with his bare hands. Tears flowing from his eyes, he pulled Effie's corpse against his body. Her eyes had been ripped away, leaving only bloodied orbs. He kissed her mouth nonetheless, one last kiss full of love and despair.

When he raised his head, Haymitch was face to face with a gigantic albinos snake, stinking of blood and roses. The terrible creature darted his tongue out, threatening, before opening its mouth widely, revealing long, pale fangs, ready to attack.

Haymitch, still holding the lifeless body of Effie in his arms, raised his head to meet the snake's red eyes. And, all at once, it was clear. He was no longer facing an animal, but President Snow himself. Suddenly, the snake began to talk, in a low, breathless voice. "You never really escaped us, Abernathy", was the only thing it said, before jumping straight at Haymitch, burying its fangs deep within the man's throat.

Haymitch's eyes darted open, and he instantly sat up on the hospital bed, roughly biting his fist to keep himself from shouting. It wasn't real; none of this had been real. It had been a nightmare. Nothing more than another nightmare. Haymitch swallowed painfully. He was drenched in cold sweat, slightly feverish. His knuckles were white, still clasping the bed sheets, which he had torn in his terror.

He closed his eyes for a moment, before turning his head towards the woman lying next to him in the bed. He stood absolutely still for a moment, listening to her regular breathing, watching her chest rise and fall, almost imperceptibly. She was alive, she was safe. There were no traces of fresh blood on her body, nothing else than the older scars, still healing.

Unable to stop himself, he ran a hand along her soft cheek, her shoulder, her hip. She was there. He felt a wave of relief warming his whole body, as he leaned back onto the bed, gazing at the ceiling. It had seemed so real, so eerie. He thought he had lost her forever. He pressed the palm of his hands against his eyes, letting out a breath he didn't realize he was still holding. Would the nightmares ever stop haunting him?

Suddenly, Effie whimpered in her sleep, and Haymitch instantly slid his arms around her body, bringing her against his chest. She seemed to relax a little at his touch, so he pressed her even closer against him, until he could feel her warm breath slightly tickling his shoulder. He dropped his head against hers and closed his eyes, inhaling her sweet scent. She was alive.

During the following days, Haymitch and Effie both chose not to mention either the incident that had almost taken place, or the night they had spent together, side by side. However, it seemed that, from this day, the very core of their relationship had been fundamentally altered. Something different, something new was slowly blossoming between the two of them, something they both silently cherished more than anything.

Due to Haymitch's involvement in the Rebellion, they were only entitled a few hours together every day. He knew Effie also needed time to recover, yet he couldn't help but miss her whenever they were apart. He often wondered when she had grown so important to him, before realizing that it didn't matter much.

One day, as he was sat on the bed next to her, their hands clasped in silence, Haymitch pointed at the colorful flowers in the vase. "You kept them?" he asked with a smile. Suddenly, he realized it was the first time in days that he had broken the silence. They were usually quiet; Haymitch even wondered whether Effie was still afraid to talk.

He was worried that he might have made her uneasy; he knew how he used to feel when he was forced to socialize with the Capitol citizens. It would make him feel stripped bare, his intimacy violated. He looked at her; she was gazing at the flowers, her eyes wide opened, her expression switching between surprise and tenderness.

She turned her head to face him. "Were- Were them from you? Haymitch?" His smile widened when he heard her. It was unexpected, but it warmed his heart to hear her voice again. He remembered how it used to annoy him, when they were still forced to work together. However, now, it seemed like the most endearing sound he had ever heard.

He wanted to reply with a joke, but chose honesty over it. "From District Thirteen, actually. One by day since you were brought here." He looked at her, and noticed her cheeks were slightly rose. She was toying with her own fingers, avoiding his gaze, but unable to repress the smile that crept up on her face.

"Thank you, Haymitch. For the flowers and- for everything else." He noticed her voice was trembling a little in her throat, so he squeezed her hand briefly. "Any day, little flower." Effie leaned her head against his shoulder, gazing at the ceiling. She smiled briefly at the new nickname, before opening her mouth, as if to speak.

She stood silent for a while, Haymitch gazing at her, her hand still clasped in his, afraid to say anything that might push her. She blinked rapidly, before talking in a timid, unsure voice. "Do you think I should tell someone?" He did not have to wonder what she meant for long. He looked at her, deep into her watery blue eyes. "I think it might help. You might think you've got everything buried deep within your chest, but it keeps coming back up. You don't want to end up like me."

Effie seemed to hesitate for a moment. "May… May I confide in you, if you don't mind?" She laughed faintly, blinking back a few tears. "You're the only one I still trust." His heart skipped a beat, while a new pang of guilt invaded his chest. Despite everything she had been put through because of him, she still trusted him. What had he ever done to deserve her?

He took her other hand in his free one, squeezing them both reassuringly, pressing his forehead against her, thus creating a bubble of intimacy around them. "Of course you may. I may not be the greatest help, but I want to try." She smiled briefly, looking very unsure of whether to continue or not. Haymitch could see how hidden emotions were already threatening to pour out of her. She could not back up now, she needed this.

"I know something which might help you." He suddenly said, as a seemingly mad idea crossed his mind. "For everything you'll tell me, I'll answer whatever you want to know about me."

"Haymitch…" She looked at him, freeing her hand off his, and raising it to gently stroke the stubble on his cheek. "You don't have to."

"I want to. I- I never thought the day would come I'd say such a thing, but I've had enough of keeping secrets myself. Now that they took my liquor away, I can never escape the nightmares. And every day, I wish I had someone to share my pain with."

Effie was silently crying now, her hands on Haymitch's lap, stroking it tenderly. He put his hands on hers, lowering his head so that their eyes would meet.

"And, for as long as I can recall…" He was talking so low now, that Effie could barely make out his words. "… I wished that person would be you." She gasped, and Haymitch continued. "I talked to you each day, when you were still unconscious. I told you the most random things, but, somehow, it soothed me. Now I only wish I'll be able to bring you the same comfort you brought me, Euphemia."

The use of her entire name allowed Effie's emotions to finally pour out of her. She drew Haymitch to her in a tight embrace, her face nuzzled into his shoulder, as she half-sobbed, half-laughed. He began drawing circles along her back with his hand, pressing soft kisses to her shoulder.

"Aren't we an odd pair, you and I?" she said, smiling against his shirt, her fingers curling up against his chest.

"Same as always, Princess."' He said with a chuckle, before pulling her off him, only to press kisses against the soft skin of her eyelids, swallowing her fresh tears.

And so, they began talking. Haymitch told her about his Games, the slaughter of his family, his growing dependency to alcohol. He explained how he had gotten involved in the Rebellion for years, how Katniss had someday appeared as the perfect Mockingjay. One day, he broke down, grabbing Effie by the shoulders desperately, burying his face in her neck. He was crying, muttering incomprehensible apologies to her.

"I'm so fucking sorry, Eff'- I should have known better, but things were getting out of hand, and I didn't- I should have told you, I should have saved you- But I'm a selfish bastard and- I'm fucking sorry, Effie. I'll never forget myself for what I put you through- Fuck, you could have died, Eff', because of me!"

Effie suddenly pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "Shh. Enough of that. Haymitch, listen to me. You don't have to apologize. What happened to me was inevitable; there was nothing you could have done." She lowered his chin, forcing him to look at her, his eyes blurred by tears of anger, sorrow and frustration mixed.

"I knew about the Rebellion, Haymitch. I kept silent to protect you, but I knew the major outline. And I was part of it. Of course, I didn't have a major role, but still. It's the reason I've been captured, Haymitch. It's not anyone's fault but mine, especially not yours. And I was well aware of the risks, when I took part in."

She pressed a kiss to his cheekbone, muttering against his skin. "It's not your fault, Haymitch. It's never been." Haymitch looked at her, his eyes narrowing as he encompassed her revelation. He stood silent for a while, before gently tracing the outline of her cheek and jaw with his calloused thumb.

"You've always been so brave, Trinks. I only hope one day you'll eventually realize it."

As time went by, both Haymitch and Effie found themselves craving for each other's company. The little time they spent together had become the highlight of their days, and if none of them dared to name the exact nature of their relationship, they were both aware of the way it was slowly blossoming into something ever stronger.

However, one day, Haymitch never came. Effie had sat on her bed for hours, eagerly glancing at the door, her heart racing with every new noise in the corridor, only to understand as the sun went down, that he would not come. Unable to sleep, she was gazing at the ceiling, her skin crawling with terror as she tried to ignore the nagging voice in her head, telling her that he would never return.

As the hours went by, a sense of panic and extreme anguish began creeping through her veins, slowly overtaking her sanity. She couldn't close her eyes, for terrible, bloody images appeared in her mind's eye as soon as she did. Her whole body trembling, she suddenly got up, reaching for the lowest drawer of her chest, which contained her scarce personal belongings.

Her fingers finally closed around a thin, golden chain, which she pulled to herself in a swift movement. The Mockingjay locket, which had caused her so much pain, was the only token she had ever received from Haymitch, which is why, to her, it was the most precious object she had ever owned.

Lacing the chain between her fingers and knuckles, she pulled the locket against her lips, kissing it fervently, muttering praises against the metal. "Be safe. Please, Haymitch. Be safe. Stay alive. Stay alive." Her lullabies brought back distant, blurry memories, and she could almost feel his body against hers if she closed her eyes. She only dared to fall asleep when her voice began sounding raw from her cries and prayers.

Three full days went by, and Effie still had no information about Haymitch's fate. Nobody was aware of her own presence at Aurelius' basement, so there was nothing she could do, but wait and hope for the best. Not for one second did she let go of the locket; it remained clasped in her hand, as if nothing terrible could happen as long as it was in contact with her bare skin.

As she lay awake in her bed for the third time already, she pressed her clenched fists to her mouth, and began praying, begging for Haymitch to be safe, to stay alive, even if he never came back to her. She realized she would gladly have given her life for him. Wiping the fresh tears on her cheeks, she wondered. Was this what love felt like?

Suddenly, the white door burst open in a metallic clatter, and Effie gasped, pulling the covers over herself, her fists clenched so hard she could see her knuckles turn white, and feel the locket's sharp edges burying themselves in the skin of her palms. As soon as her eyes accustomed themselves to the new light, she eyed the figure reaching for her, and felt her heart stop, as she recognized it. Haymitch.

"You're alive…" She muttered, faintly at first, as he urgently approached her, taking both her arms gently in his wrists, and pulling her closer to him. He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead; his arms sliding behind her back, until she was pressed flush against him. "You're alive!" She repeated, louder this time, her tone mixed with incredulity, relief and sheer joy.

"It's over. It's all over, Effie. The Capitol surrendered an hour ago. The Rebels won. The war is over; we won."

It took mere seconds for the words to impact on Effie's mind, and she pulled Haymitch away slightly, allowing their eyes to meet for the first time since he had come back. "It's –over?"

"Over and done with, Princess. We've been fighting for the past few days, that's the reason why I was kept away… But we've done it, Eff. We won. We did it, you and I."

Effie stood silent, but she knew he could see the uninterrupted flow of tears on her cheeks. She looked at him: His dark curls were falling messily around his face, his skin was dirty, his shirt half-torn. But there was something new on his face. Something unexpected, something unfamiliar, something utterly beautiful.

Effie suddenly realized he was smiling. It was nothing like the quick smirk she had seen on rare occasions before, no. Haymitch was smiling wildly, at her, his grey eyes watery but nonetheless sparkling like never before. At this very moment, Effie was stunned by just how beautiful he was.

She felt her breath hitch in her throat as she reached to brush a curl off his forehead. He kept looking at her, without even stopping to blink, and Effie felt her face flush, her heart pounding with an emotion she had never experienced with anyone but him.

"It's over." He said, gently cupping her cheeks with his calloused hands.

"It's over", she repeated, tears streaming down her face before falling on her lap. They were standing so close now, she could feel his warm breath on her skin.

"It's finally over." His last sentence had barely been more than a whisper. "And there's no one I would rather be with, right now."

At this very moment, Haymitch knew. He looked at her deep, blue eyes one more time before shutting his, and eventually closed the gap between them, brushing his lips against hers so softly, the touch almost seemed surreal.

Effie gasped, her eyes shutting close as she grabbed the lapels of his shirt, pressing her own lips firmly against his. They began moving as one, lost in utter delight, as waves of emotion came crashing over them, only causing them to tighten their desperate embrace.

Effie moaned helplessly, as his tongue overcame the barrier of her lips, meeting hers with such passion and tenderness, she could have melted on the spot. Her hands tangled themselves in his thick, soft hair, while his arms slid around her waist, pressing their bodies even closer.

The very touch of their skins sent a rush of molten electricity through their bodies, as their mouth fiercely crashed together one more time. Utterly lost in the sensation, Effie brought her hand to his cheek, gently stroking his stubble with her slender fingers. She could fresh tears dampening her cheeks; she chose to ignore them, for they were, for the first time in her life, tears of sheer happiness.

Haymitch began tracing intricate patterns along her back, his chest threatening to burst with the strength of his emotions. He was pouring his very heart into the kiss: Everything he wanted, everything he was, everything he believed in, he chose to offer to her, for, at that very moment at least, they belonged together, two bodies sharing one soul.

At this very moment, the bedroom door snapped open, and everything shattered.

President Alma Coin was standing in the doorframe, her face distorted by a mix of anger and disgust. Haymitch let go of Effie at once, jumping to his feet, and crossed the room in two large strides. He stood still, facing her, his fists clenched.

"What d'you want?"

"You ought to treat me with a little more respect, soldier Abernathy", she said through clenched teeth, her tone threatening. "Furthermore, I'm here to talk to Ms. Trinket."

"Who told you?" Haymitch growled, his eyes darkening.

"It doesn't matter. I knew you kept her here, and I let you, Abernathy. I let you spoil yourself with that Capitol scum, so the least you can do now, is let me do my job."

Haymitch was clenching his fists so hard, he was sure his nails were drawing blood from his palms. He had not to react to Coin's deliberate provocations, for Effie's sake. For her safety. Despite himself, he moved out of the way, allowing Coin to reach Effie's bed, glaring at her with as much scorn as she could muster.

Effie had only pulled the sheets back up to cover her frail body, too stunned to react in any other way. She looked at Coin with fearful eyes, and Haymitch could, despite the sheets, distinguish how her whole body had begun shaking with anxiety.

"Ms. Trinket, as you are probably aware by now, your precious Capitol has surrendered to us a few hours ago." Coin had talked with an icy, emotionless tone. Effie only nodded.

"Consequently, Katniss Everdeen will, by tomorrow, proceed to President Snow's assassination." She paused, waiting for her words to sink in. Haymitch felt his skin crawl at the thought of Katniss facing yet another challenge.

"The execution shall be broadcasted nationwide, in order for our people to grasp the intensity of the message we're sending. Is that understood, Ms. Trinket?"

Effie bit her lip to stop herself from protesting. Surely, their precious Mockingjay had done enough by now. She was merely more than a young, broken girl, who had been shoved despite herself in a war she didn't belong in. Did that heartless woman really have to force her through a final ordeal?

"Now, Ms. Trinket. You are expected, for tomorrow only, to assume your former position as Katniss Everdeen's Escort. We need you to be a visual reminder of the Games, do you understand?" Effie didn't answer; her eyes only widened in shock, and Haymitch saw her face slowly crumbling as she encompassed the meaning of Coin's words. At this very moment, he was himself struggling not to shout. How could she, after all Effie had been through? How did she dare?

"After which", Coin continued, "You will be free to return to where you came from." Suddenly, she grabbed Effie's wrist with an iron grip, looking right through her eyes with a terrifying intensity. "And, believe me, Ms. Trinket, you actually should. Take this as an advice if you can: People around here are not too fond of former Capitol Citizens. Is that clear, my doll?"

Haymitch winced at the use of such a nickname, especially by Coin. He swallowed with difficulty, wanting nothing more than to embrace Effie's frail figure, to soothe her with kisses, to mutter against her skin that everything would be alright. He waited for Coin to finally exit the room. She didn't budge.

After a short moment, Coin talked again. "What are you waiting for? I need to lead you to Everdeen's former Prep Team. God knows you need a makeover, you look nothing like yourself."

"I want to talk to her!" Haymitch suddenly burst out, refusing to face Effie's departure, even if it was for a single day, without having shared at least a few comforting words with her. "She's not going anywhere before I talked to her!"

Coin narrowed her eyes at him, her icy glare piercing right through him.

"You have two minutes," she said, before exiting the room without a look at either of them.

"I- I can't", Effie eventually muttered. "I can't be that woman again." She looked at him, desperate. He was quick to prop himself against her, allowing her to press her face into the crook of his neck, circling her frail shoulders with his arms. "Never again, never!" Effie shook her head, on the verge of hysteria, before breaking into deep sobs and strangled cries which shook her whole body.

"I know, Trinks, I know. Believe me, if there was anything I could do to prevent this, I would." He kissed the top of her head repeatedly, trying to soothe her as well as he could. "But you can do it. And you will." Effie stood silent, so he pushed her away a little. "Look at me", he said, tilting her chin up so that their eyes would meet. "When I look at you, I see a beautiful, strong woman, who survived months of torture and abuse without even wincing. And if you could survive this, then you're entirely able to make it through tomorrow."

He pressed a sweet kiss to her forehead, before continuing. "I'm immensely proud of you, Effie Trinket. I can only hope you know it. You are the strongest, most fascinating woman I ever met, and I know you will make it. I trust you."

For the first time, Effie let on a half-hearted smile, before nodding faintly. He brushed her tears away with his thumbs, before handing her the locket that lay, forgotten amongst the sheets. She caught it quickly, pulling the chain around her neck and settling the medallion against her heart, as the reminder of Haymitch's presence by her side. Her eyes were focused, she had stopped crying. Haymitch thought he had never loved her more than at this very moment.

She arose from the bed, moving towards the door, when Haymitch suddenly grabbed her wrist, pulling her back to him.

"I want to promise you something, sweetheart. As soon as you get through this, we'll leave, you and I. We'll go somewhere special, somewhere hidden, just the two of us. Would you like that?"

For the first time since Coin had entered the room, Effie smiled, a genuine smile that lightened her whole face. "I would like that very much, Haymitch", she answered, before rising to her tiptoes, dropping one last, chaste kiss onto Haymitch's lips. The very touch of her soft, pliant lips against his caused both their faces to flush almost instantly, their blood heating up in their veins.

One of his hands urgently traveled amongst her soft, short curls, wanting to memorize everything about her before she left. Then Effie pulled away, her hand lingering for a brief instant against Haymitch's heart. He stroke the tip of her fingers with his, before letting go of her hand.

Effie was almost at the door when he called for her one last time.

"And, Effie?" She looked back at him, her eyes full with hurt and tenderness. "Stay alive, Princess."

She smiled softly, before turning her back to him, and walking out of the room without a glance behind.

A/N: Well, thank you so much for reading, and I apologize one more time for being so unforgivably slow.
I love you all, and I hope you enjoyed it!

Hugs,
Wil~