Chapter Text
“Haymitch, you waste of human skin! Pick up your damn phone and do it now! I have been ringing you for the past twenty minutes and if you do not pick up the phone and listen to me I will have to kill you when you eventually show up! And that is a promise Mr Abernathy that I will not forget to fulfil!” Effie whispered venomously down the phone. She stabbed the end call button and pressed a hand to her forehead. The pained screams echoing down the hallway were giving her migraine nasty painful spikes each time they hit octaves only dogs should be able to hear. Her mother’s ingrained training surged forth and she took a few calming breaths. She was calm and in charge; a hostess is always in charge and never forced to panic. Another scream pitched high enough to break glass pierced through her, in an unmistakeable and horribly familiar voice. The fear that had been lurking in the periphery of her mind surged forwards to plant itself, squat and ugly, centre stage. Her already racing heart beat faster and she turned smartly on her heel and barged into the delivery room.
She immediately wished she hadn’t. She wished she still stood in the hallway with little knowledge of what was happening behind the door. She wished she were still shouting down the phone at Haymitch’s voicemail, feeling useful. She knew that this solidified her desire to never ruin her life and her body with children. Clutching her phone tightly in her sweaty hand she stepped into the room.
Iris lay half across her bed, as white as the sheets used to be. She clung desperately to the sheets in fists clenched beyond pale. The midwives buzzed around her; a gentle encouragement, a soft hand. Iris’s body bowed with the next contraction and she bit down onto the pillow; not nearly muting the screech of agony. Effie couldn’t move herself forwards. She stood petrified but not because of her friend in pain. She had been there for the birth of her first child and knew that her friend didn’t hold back. She stood petrified by the sheer amount of blood staining the room. The back of Iris’s gown was bright with it, her pale legs streaked and the floor and midwives splattered. There was blood covering everything. Her friend let lose another howl trailing off into a sob. She surged forwards suddenly released and collapsed to her knees on the opposite side of the bed. She covered her friend’s hands and for the first time in her life didn’t know what to say next. There was no training for this in her. Iris looked up at the touch and up close she appeared even worse. Her hair was plastered to her face with sweat and her eyes dancing with an almost deranged fear. She released the bedclothes and latched onto her hands, short nails scraping furrows into delicate flesh.
“Effie, promise me that you’ll be there no matter what. Please! Effie please…!” Each word was bitten out through clenched teeth and she tried to curl into herself as a contraction stole her last word.
Effie swallowed back her own tears and clung to her just as desperately. She couldn’t find the words to reassure her, to promise her a thing. Her mother would have branded her an irreparable failure. Iris dropped her head to the bed and howled, a broken pained thing. Effie felt words climb up her throat.
“It’s going to be fine, Iris. We’re in the very best place and they’re doing all they can.”
She didn’t believe her own words and when she caught the glances exchanged between the midwives behind Iris; she knew that they were worried.
“Okay Iris, we’re going to change the plan. I know you wanted a natural birth but baby is being a stubborn little thing and isn’t coming as fast as we’d like. Baby is in a little bit of distress so we’re gonna have to call the doctors in but it’s looking like you’re going to have a c-section.” said Laura, aiming for calm.
The other midwife pressed a few buttons on the wall trying to keep her professional mask in place but Effie could see through her easily. Her mother would be horrified at their lack of decorum and letting the masses see their inner feelings. She would have hauled both of them out of the room, ever so politely, and spat venomous reprimands until she felt they were satisfactorily cowed. Effie knew what that kind of scolding felt like and had learnt quickly.
Iris tugged on her wrist and Effie focussed back on her flagging friend. Her mother’s face slipped back into memory.
“W...Whatever happens promise me. Promise me that you’ll keep an eye on Martin. He….oh god…he can forget so much if you don’t remind him.” She pleaded.
“You can look after him yourself and your daughter and your baby! Iris you can’t say things like that!” She pleaded in return.
The midwives began to urge Iris onto the bed proper, regardless of the bloodstains. She curled onto her side and Effie pulled close to her and ran a sweaty and shaking hand across her cheek. She was struggling to watch her friend so desperate and lost. She swallowed back her tears again and opened her mouth to speak when the midwives began pulling her away.
“I need you to let go sweetheart. We need to move her and get her prepped for surgery.” Laura whispered into her ear.
Suddenly obedient, she let go. The midwives scrambled and wheeled her dearest friend away with barely more than a backward glance. Effie stood in the horribly silent delivery room and wished for the screams again.