Work Text:
Tribute Center,
60th Hunger Games
Today was still the second day of the 60th Hunger Games, and so early in the Games, one would expect an escort and a mentor to be busy with sponsors, strategy, and managing the funds as best they could. But no, that wasn’t the reality for Effie Trinket and Haymitch Abernathy. The escort and mentor from District 12 were sitting unhappily in the grand living room of the enormous penthouse that served as their home while the Games were taking place. Unlike everyone else in the building, they had nothing to do. With two twelve-year-old tributes, they never stood a chance this year.
“Are you going out with Chaff again?” Effie asked Haymitch as he grabbed another bottle of whiskey.
“No, his tribute is alive,” Haymitch replied, the permanently bitter tone present in his voice. Not because District 11’s tribute was alive, but because of everything. It had been years since Haymitch had fallen into a pit of despair from which Effie didn’t know how to pull him out. With unsteady steps, he plopped down next to her on the couch, spilling his drink. He frowned and stood up, spilling more drink. He'd sat on one of her bags. When he moved it, a piece of paper fell out.
“Did you have a baby?” Haymitch asked in an almost disturbed tone, staring at the paper, which was actually a photo.
“Oh Panem, no,” Effie replied, bursting out laughing at his expression.
“You gave me a scare, princess,” Haymitch offered a rare half-smile.
“Jealous?” Effie asked playfully. Haymitch looked at her, seeming unsure how to respond. She couldn’t tell if his flushed cheeks were from the drink or if he was blushing.
“No…” He was definitely blushing. “I’m not jealous! Not that you aren’t attractive… you are… but… not that I… Ah…” Haymitch scolded himself mentally. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Maybe he’d had more to drink than he’d realized. Maybe it had been too many years since he’d lost the tact to say such a thing.
“It’s my nephew,” Effie said, cutting him off. “The photo was from when I went to see him and Prosie at the maternity ward.”
“Your sister got married?” Haymitch looked genuinely shocked.
“She did,” Effie laughed. “She and Vitus.”
And if it were possible for Haymitch to raise his eyebrows even higher in shock, he did.
“I thought he liked men,” Haymitch said.
“He’s like me,” Effie explained.
“Who likes both men and women?” Haymitch asked, finally understanding. Effie had explained the concepts of bisexuality and pansexuality to him two years ago after they’d gone to a fashion show and he’d caught her kissing one of the models at the after-party.
“Yes,” Effie replied with a smile. Haymitch had been a pleasant surprise, she’d thought he’d be quite narrow-minded since he was from the districts, but he didn’t have a shred of prejudice.
“And what’s the boy’s name?” he asked, taking a long sip of his whiskey.
“Diony…” Effie was interrupted by the phone ringing. “I’ll just answer it,” she said, getting up, and Haymitch nodded.
Effie picked up the phone and answered, “12th floor, Effie Trinket speaking.”
“Effie? Thank Panem, I was afraid you were at some party,” Vitus said in the most distressed voice Effie had ever heard from him in all these years. “We really need your help.”
“What happened?” Effie asked, already feeling her heart racing in her chest.
“Prosie tripped over one of Dio’s toys and fell,” Vitus explained. “She hit her head, she’s bleeding a lot.” Effie felt her chest tighten in a strange way. “I brought her to the hospital, but they won’t let Dio in, and there’s no one to leave him with, so she’s alone. I’m coming over to leave him with you.”
“WHAT YOU MEAN?” Effie practically shouted. “NO, I’M GOING TO THE HOSPITAL TO STAY WITH HER. I WON’T LEAVE HER ALONE, VITUS.” Effie felt tears streaming down her face, and she hadn’t really been listening after hearing ‘Prosie’ and ‘hit her head.’
Haymitch tried to stretch to see what was happening. “Princess?” he asked, but not in the sarcastic tone he usually used with that nickname; he seemed genuinely concerned.
“You’ll take good care of him,” Vitus said, he seemed quite lost by it all. “And you can’t leave there. The Games have barely begun.”
“I WON’T LEAVE MY BABYSISTER ALONE”
“Effie” it was Proserpina’s voice now. These calls with up to four people were great. “Effie, stay with Dio. I don’t want him to see me like this. I look awful, my clothes are ruined. You’re the best, he’ll be fine with you.”
“But Prosie…” Effie said. She didn’t know why she was crying, she couldn’t explain why she was so scared, even though her sister was talking to her. Terrible memories of a very young Effie and Proserpina, lots of blood, and parents who never came home, maybe.
“I’m almost there,” Vitus said.
“It’s okay,” Effie said, taking a deep breath to compose herself. Shoulders back, big smile, she couldn’t lose control. It wasn’t helping, she slammed the phone down. At that moment, she heard Haymitch’s heavy, slightly unsteady footsteps as he stumbled toward her and hugged her.
“What happened? Everything’s going to be okay, Eff.”
Effie hugged him back with all her strength, she smelled the mixture of alcohol and a woody she associated only with him. She couldn’t say at what point in the last few years that scent had become so comforting. “Prosie fell, and then Vitus said there was blood…” she tried to explain to him, but she hadn’t really heard much. “Vitus is going to leave Dionysus here with me…”
“Dionysus?” Haymitch asked, his face contorting in disgust. “What an ugly name.”
“It’s not ugly,” Effie felt the need to defend her nephew and momentarily forgot her worry.
“It is, princess,” Haymitch said, letting go of her. “It’s scary to think what name you’d pick for your son.”
“Arcturus is a great name!” Effie exclaimed. “I have very elegant taste, you know. But you’d never understand, you have absolutely no manners.”
“It makes me think of spiders,” Haymitch said with a crooked smile. “Arachnids,” he added. And Effie snorted indignantly.
“You’re the rudest, most inelegant man on the planet.”
“Ever since you stopped dressing me in black suits and started trying to stick me in those colorful things, I have to agree.”
“GET OUT OF HERE, HAYMITCH ABERNATHY.” And he left, laughing at having provoked her.
······
Haymitch looked at the empty bottle and decided to get up from his bed to fetch more from the living room, which was always stocked with more drinks. Even if they were those terribly sweet, colorful ones that people from the Capitol seemed to love so much.
“Can you hold the little green ball, Dio? Can you, my darling?” Haymitch heard Effie’s voice, sweeter than ever. The little boy he’d seen the photo of her with him as a newborn, but had no idea how old the boy was now. Upon entering the room, he was surprised. Effie was playing on the floor, which was covered with what appeared to be every cushion in the penthouse, with a tiny baby dressed in a blue outfit covered in glitter. The little boy barely seemed able to sit up.
“I didn’t know he was so small,” Haymitch said, and Effie was startled by his voice.
“Oh, it’s you,” she smiled, relieved. Her protective instinct had already made her clutch the little boy to her chest. Did Haymitch find that strangely comforting? No, it was a warmth, but “attractive” wasn’t the word, nor was it comfort, it was, in a way, uncomfortable. Damn, he shouldn’t, but fuck, look at her, Effie… she’d always been beautiful, he might be a drunk, but he wasn’t an idiot, any moron could see how beautiful Effie Trinket was, even with all the frills she wore in the name of fashion and good breeding, but like this, as she was now, without makeup, she was magnificent… “He turned six months old two weeks ago,” she replied, pride evident in her voice.
“Isn’t all that glitter on him bad for him?” Haymitch asked, it must be terrible for the little baby.
“It’s coated,” Effie explained. “That way he can look handsome and stay comfortable, isn’t that right, Auntie’s baby?” The little boy flashed a huge smile at Effie. For the first time in years, Haymitch felt his heart melt a little.
“He looks just like you,” Haymitch said, looking at Effie and the baby. Haymitch couldn’t put his finger on what he was feeling, it was strange… Effie and a baby. He couldn’t explain why it affected him so much, why he felt such a visceral fear at the thought that she had married, that they had nothing and probably never would, why she would look at him when so many handsome, rich men from the Capital were kissing her feet.
“It doesn’t look like it, does it?” She laughed. “You have blue eyes just like your aunt’s, don’t you, Dio? Tell Haymitch.” The baby let out one of those high-pitched squeals.
“Your sister’s okay, right?” Haymitch asked. He thought so, he’d known her for many years. Effie Trinket was even breathing differently.
“Yes, completely out of danger,” Effie smiled as she said this. She was a devoted older sister, he knew the story. Dionysus was Effie’s second child because her first had been Proserpina. “She’ll have to spend one or two nights under observation, but she’s completely out of danger. It was just a scare.”
“I’m glad she’s okay, Princess,” Haymitch said sincerely, heading toward the crowded bar.
“Aren’t you going to get sick?” Effie asked worriedly, she always did. He didn’t understand why she still cared.
“I’m not going to die, don’t worry,” he replied, walking away, but not before giving little Dio a wave.
······
Haymitch woke up startled, jumping out of his armchair in the bedroom, unsure whether the noise was part of his dream or real. He was surprised to realize it was real. He picked up his knife, which had fallen to the floor, and followed the sound.
He walked down the hallway, it was four in the morning. But when he reached the source of the noise, the living room, he realized the frightening sound was the baby’s crying. Effie’s nephew had been staying with them for two days. He dropped the knife on the floor and approached. The living room was a mess, there were diapers scattered about, baby ointment, used bottles, those little cloths for wiping drool that Haymitch didn’t know the name of, and Effie, looking utterly exhausted, in the deepest sleep he’d ever seen anyone fall into, she had a bit of baby spit-up on her clothes.
“Hey, baby, what’s the matter, huh?” Haymitch asked, peering into the tiny crib the child was in, he had no idea where Effie had gotten it. The baby kept crying at the top of his lungs. “It’s okay, I know it’s scary,” Haymitch had put his hand inside the crib in an attempt to calm the little boy; his heart ached at the sight of the little boy crying. What on earth was he feeling?
“Did you soil your diaper, little prince?” Haymitch asked involuntarily, pouting. He was so cute. Haymitch didn’t want to see him suffering. “Come here, Uncle Haymitch will help you. Your aunt seems to need some sleep.” He picked up the baby very carefully, images from 20 years ago flooding back into his mind, the house in The Seam, his mother introducing his little brother and telling him to be very careful and to support his head gently because babies were so fragile.
Haymitch cradled little Dionysus in his arms and began rocking him, that slow way babies like, it was almost instinctive, he didn’t remember remembering it so well. “Come on, Dio, what’s wrong?” Haymitch sniffed the diaper, it definitely wasn’t that, he was clean. “Are you hungry?” Haymitch asked, even though he knew the baby couldn’t answer.
“Let’s take care of this, little prince. No child should ever go hungry,” Haymitch declared, looking at him as he walked toward the kitchen to find out where Effie had left whatever a baby this age needs. “Stay quiety, little one. That way you’ll wake up your aunt and the whole building. Uncle will find your food.”
Haymitch looked around, baby bottles, boxes, maybe? He must be on formula because there was no way Effie was breastfeeding, and there were about three identical bottles scattered around the room. Baby bottles. On the counter, in the corner, was a huge package; he picked it up while cradling the crying boy against his chest.
“Let’s see what this says, I don’t want to make you sick.” ‘Formula for babies 4–7 months’ it had to be that. ‘Press the button on the bottom of the bottle and shake, it will be ready and at the correct temperature.’ Haymitch read this in amazement, how practical. The milk even came out warm. Good for him. He grabbed one and sat down in one of the chairs, positioning the baby so he could hold him properly, and gave him the bottle after following the instructions on the package. Haymitch smiled, Dionysius stopped crying instantly, he’d just been hungry.
“There you go, little prince, it’s over. We won’t let you go hungry, you need to keep that chubby, cute baby physique, don’t you?” Haymitch spoke in a syrupy voice, he was melting over this mini Effie Trinket male’s version. The little boy was the spitting image of her, Proserpina had given birth to the male version of her sister, and no one was going to convince Haymitch otherwise.
······
Effie jolted awake on the couch. Oh my God, she’d fallen asleep. Damn it, the baby’s feeding time must have passed. She was so exhausted, taking care of a baby like this was the most exhausting thing she’d ever done in her life. The biggest lie ever told was that babies slept all day. “Dio, shall we eat, my darling? It’s time for your…” Effie’s heart raced. Where in Panem was that baby? She began looking around, peering under the cushions in desperation. Had they taken the baby? Had she not even woken up? Had she failed to protect him? Where had they taken him? That was when she heard, very softly, someone singing a little off-key.
Lay down your head, and close your eyes.
And when they open, the sun will rise.
Here it’s safe, and here it’s warm.
Here the daisies guard you from every harm.
Haymitch. Haymitch was singing softly in the kitchen? She tiptoed over there.
Effie was startled by the scene. Haymitch was rocking Dionysus, who seemed content in the victor’s lap. His arms were so big around the baby. Well, Haymitch himself seemed very big. Effie had never seen him any other way, but now, Haymitch was attractive, now she saw a man, not a boy. His tousled blond hair, broad shoulders, strong arms, the stubble she’d genuinely never noticed before but which made his face look more angular. And the expression on his face? It was so tender, he looked moved as he gazed at the baby.
“Come on, little prince, Uncle Haymitch is going to put you back in your crib… Oh, hi, Eff,” Haymitch smiled, looking like he’d given up on getting up. “Sorry for picking him up like this, it’s just that I woke up to him crying and you… you were sleeping, I… I didn’t want to wake you.” He was looking her up and down, he just couldn’t help it, she looked so good in those robes.
“Thank you,” she said simply, unable to stop staring, he looked gorgeous this early morning. “I didn’t know you were good with babies.”
“I’m the older brother,” Haymitch replied, and then, with the saddest expression she’d ever seen on a person’s face, he corrected himself, “I was.” Effie felt something break in her chest upon hearing that. Pain, pain just from imagining it, just from thinking about it, robbed her of the air in her lungs, and then, as never before, she understood the drink, but not just that, it was a different kind of understanding. She would have drunk every bottle in Panem if she had lost Prosie, so now, more than ever, she understood Haymitch, he was strong, more than he gave himself credit for. Effie thought she would be capable of hanging herself if she ever saw her sister die.
“He would have turned 20, can you believe it?” Haymitch said, now looking at her and not at the baby. “Sometimes I think about what he’d be like. He loved stars, you know? He was passionate about them. I remember him talking about the one you’d name your son after. Arcturus, it’s one of the brightest in the sky, isn’t it?”
“I… I’ve never seen them,” Effie replied, not quite sure how to react. It was so hard for Haymitch to say anything, and everything he said seemed so painful, and she could understand his pain so well. “I’ve never seen the stars. You can’t here.”
“One day I’ll show you,” Haymitch said. “The sky in District 12 is full of stars, we hardly have any lights. I just don’t know how we’re going to get you there one night.” Effie looked at the burly man in front of her and was surprised to see the kindness in Haymitch that she had once known.
“I’d love to. It must be fabulous.”
“It is,” he agreed. “I’ll put him in the crib, I think he’s sleeping really soundly right now.”
“Of course,” Effie said. “Do you want me to put him down?”
“No need, don’t worry. Me and the little guy here are buddies.” Effie smiled and stepped aside for Haymitch. Damn, his broad back must be indecent. He placed little Dionysus in his crib and turned to Effie with a little smile.
“You know, Haymitch… you look really good like this, as Uncle Haymitch,” Effie said, glancing quickly at his lips and then back at his eyes, those beautiful gray ones. He looked a little shocked, but then his gaze darkened and a kind of smile Effie had never seen on him before appeared.
“You too, you know? I like you better like this, without all that makeup,” he said, closing the distance between them. “And you look really sexy in that silk robe, which looks so good on those long legs of yours, on your hips… even if, to complete the devoted aunt look, your robe is stained with baby spit-up.”
Effie’s eyes widened as she looked down at the robe, then let out a frustrated groan, trying to hide her embarrassment, while Haymitch laughed heartily.
“You missed the ‘even’ part, you know. The point is, you’re still very beautiful,” Haymitch said, lifting Effie’s chin and kissing her. It was quick, their lips touched, and shortly after, they were apart again. “I… I’m sorry.”
And then Effie pulled him close by the neck and kissed him for real, and it felt right, lips pressed together, tongues seeking entry. It wasn’t quick, but it was desperate. It felt so good; Effie couldn’t believe she hadn’t done this sooner. It had been a great idea. Haymitch moaned, pulling her closer and sliding his hand down to her buttocks.
“The bedroom,” Effie said between kisses. “There’s still a baby in here.”
A little adult fun with her coworker had never felt so right.