I've been excited to post this but I'm also very, very nervous about it. Here you go!

Chapter Seventy-Three

Having laced her tea with sleeping syrup after the conversation they had, Effie was sound asleep on her stomach with the covers bunched around her waist, occupying the middle of the bed. Haymitch sat with his upper body propped against the headboard watching her quietly, a thousand thoughts running through his mind.

"Effie," he called her out, his voice low and gravelly as he traced a finger down her spine followed by a faint brush of his thumb over the small scar below her shoulder blade.

She did not stir nor give any indication that she heard him, oblivious to her surroundings.

Her words echoed in his mind - you chose me, just like how I chose you to be my husband – and it made his spine tingled.

Haymitch had never seen their marriage from that perspective before. In his mind's eyes, the law had pushed them together. But where was the lie in what Effie had said? He had chosen to be with her, except all these while, he believed that he had done so out necessity. The only other option was to wait for a wife to be picked for him.

Whether it was Effie trying to spin their ordeal into something positive or if she had always seen the choices they had to make in their marriage, she had now shown him a different outlook from which to view his marriage. This revelation was doing things to him – spinning his mind and making him questioned his own feelings.

I chose her. I made a life with her. She gave me the greatest gift that I didn't even deserve. She gave me Tristan, and she gave me Ethan, and no one … no one has fought to keep me in their life as much as her.

Why do I keep pushing her away? It's not right to treat this way. She's good and she's a much better person than I am. I don't deserve her.

Those thoughts roared in his head and Haymitch wanted to repress them with a drink. Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaws to block out the intrusive thoughts. Slowly, the voice in his head began to diminish and his mind was filled with a cloudy haze as he hovered between the space of consciousness and sleep.

"You don't deserve her, that's probably true," the thoughts returned only this time he was hearing it in his mother's quiet voice. "But, m'boy, you've been given a chance to have something that was robbed from you when you were sixteen. Something good came out from the marriage law - you have your own family now. Your children have never seen you as anything but their father and their guardian. And your wife loves you. Isn't that reason enough to keep them with you? If you can't see this and what you're about to lose, and if you can't see how good she is to you, then maybe you should let the poor girl go. Sign the divorce papers when the time comes – set her free. Then wallow in your self-pity. You will die in this house alone and miserable. You will be what you've always been – a drunk."

"No!" he jolted upright. "Effie, Effie," he reached out for her blindly in the dark.

Haymitch breathed out in relief when his hand connected with her warm body. He slumped forward, resting his forehead against her back. His eyelashes fluttered against her soft skin and still, she slept.

"Why don't I deserve you?" he asked out loud, the words came tumbling out from his tired soul. Had she been awake, he would never have vocalized what he was thinking. He would brood in silence with only his thoughts for company and he would push her away. He would make her worry.

"Nobody has said that 'cept… me. I'm not letting myself 'cause I… It's always safer alone. I could have married anyone after the Games but I chose to be on my own in this house. Now…" he sighed. "I've lost everyone I cared for. I've done enough in this life – fought the games and the law – and I'm exhausted. I'm tired of fighting. I deserve something but I'm… I don't want to take it only to lose it," Haymitch chuckled bitterly.

There was no sound in that house except for their breathing. Haymitch stared at a fix point in the dark bedroom, matching the rhythm of his breathing with her own. He felt the tension leave his body.

"I'm tired of waking up drunk to an empty house. I can't go back to that."

He was barely fifty but he felt as if he had seen things and endured trials and tribulations that had aged him well beyond his years, and he was so exhausted. His soul was aching and tired, and for once, he just wanted to be paid what he was owed.

"Sweetheart," he whispered. "I wanted the law to end 'cause I didn't want to be bound to it. I wanted you to be free and lead your life with someone who could make you happy. But… I don't know if that's what I want anymore. I'm selfish, Effs. You'd know, wouldn't you? Maybe I can make you happy – I don't know how but what if I can?" he mused. Haymitch splayed his fingers on the curve of her hip. "You said that I'm a good man. You said that… You have to stay – you and the two rascals. You got to. I don't know what I'd do if… I don't want joint custody of the children, Effs. I want them here with me. I want you."

Haymitch lifted his head to see if she was awake but unlike him trying to claw out of his dark and unforgiving self-constructed prison, there was only peace on Effie's face. It made his lips quirked upwards into a smile.

"Didn't hear a thing I said, did you?" he ran his fingers through her hair. "You were right 'bout what you said yesterday. You were always right – we did choose each other and at that time I thought… I thought you were the lesser of two evils but truth is you made me afraid, sweetheart. The idea of you stayin' and being a part of my life was terrifying but the thought of you leavin'…" he trailed off.

"Don't know what you see in me. No one's seen me as anything but an old drunk. I accepted it," Haymitch admitted. "Don't even know what it feels like to be anything else. Don't remember what it feels like to be needed till Katniss and Peeta, and now you and the boys. I don't remember what it's like to have someone care… to have someone love me."

Haymitch took a shaky breath and paused, blinking slowly in the dark. He was never one to discuss his feelings but it wasn't truly discussing now, was it? He was just… spewing his thoughts out. He couldn't stop talking. There was something therapeutic about it. He felt as if an immeasurable weight had been lifted off his chest.

"You don't have to go," his voice was barely above a whisper and he wasn't sure where any of this was coming from. "If the law ends, you can stay. We can be… We can be what we've been for the past five years."

Haymitch wondered if this was what love was supposed to feel like; to be afraid of being emotionally and physically present for his wife only to worry that he would fail her and yet, not wanting to lose her at the same time.

Frown lines began appearing on his face when he realized that this was how he felt for his children. There was nothing he would not do for them. He was afraid of being a terrible father. He would try again and again for his sons if he disappointed them. He would kill anyone who would try to harm them. He knew that he loved his children and if that was how he felt for Tristan and Ethan, and if this was the same surge of protectiveness and fear he had for Effie then that would mean…

"I love you," he whispered that understanding into her ear when it finally dawned on him.

His warm breath blew against her hair. The words sounded foreign on his tongue, like it didn't belong. In retrospect, it was probably good that she was asleep and had not heard that clumsy confession. It was him admitting his feelings to himself and allowing himself to accept the truth that had eluded him. He was so blind.

He didn't know how or when it happened but he was beginning to see it now. Their life flashed before his eyes; them on their wedding day, him running after her at the wee hours in the morning to the Capitol because she was craving for strawberries, taking a train to Four without any hesitation because he thought Effie was in danger, staying in Four for days because she asked, that unrestrained emotion he was beginning to think was jealousy when he thought of her starting a life with Adler.

He remembered abandoning the meeting with the Council because she was in labour and he remembered bringing home the twins for the first time – the smile on her face and the sparkle in her eyes was something he would never forget. He remembered late nights with Effie as she nursed the babies only to fall asleep with his head on her shoulder even when he said he would stay awake with her. He could never forget feeling so helpless and useless during her episodes nor could he forget his willingness to do anything if it would mean she would get better. He could go on but he understood. It had taken him so long and he had put her through so much but he finally understood it all.

"I love you, sweetheart," he repeated, needing to hear the words spoken out loud.

Haymitch remained lying on her with his cheek pressed against her back, emotionally spent and it was in that moment that he decided that whatever the outcome of the law may be, nothing would change for them.

They were a family and they would remain so.

With that in mind, Haymitch finally fell asleep.

XxX

The town in District Twelve was awake and in general chaos. There were people in all sorts of emotional states; some were celebrating, some numb and at a loss for words while others seemed unsure of what to make of the morning news.

At the other side of District Twelve, the Abernathy's house was quiet that morning, untouched by the latest update that had just hit Panem.

Their twin boys were still sleeping from the late night they had and Effie was only just starting to rouse from her slumber. Haymitch was still sleeping, sprawled on the bed with Effie's head on his chest.

Had he left the phone plugged in before he retired to bed the night before, he would have been woken up by the sound of the phone ringing incessantly. However, as it were, the phone was unplugged because he did not want their morning to be disturbed by pesky reporters. In his frustration, Plutarch had called Peeta after he tried for the fifth time and still could not get through Haymitch's phone which sent Peeta over, knocking on his door. The young man gave up eventually when his knocks went unanswered.

"Haymitch," Effie shook his shoulder, "wake up. I thought I heard someone knocking."

"Yeah, heard it, too. They'll go away. Go back to sleep," he mumbled, tightening his hold on her.

"It's past eleven in the morning," Effie tried to reason and just as the words left her mouth, the boys, probably woken up by Peeta's knocking, barreled into the room and jumped gleefully on their bed.

Effie hastily pulled the sheet up to her chin.

Haymitch growled and reached out for Ethan to pin the boy to the bed. He laughed happily, thinking that his father was playing a new game with him.

"Mama, I'm hungry," Tristan said. "Pancakes?"

"It's too late for pancakes," Effie yawned. "And your father's not letting me out of bed," she gestured at Haymitch's hand slung across her mid-section.

Tristan frowned, pushing Haymitch's hand away from his mother. "Pancakes, da?"

Haymitch cracked an eye open to see his son's face hovering inches in front of him. "Pancakes it is," he nodded. His eyes searched for Effie's and he shrugged. "It is Sunday."

"You're spoiling him. I've never agreed to pancakes every Sunday," she complained under her breath. "You'll get them change and ready, yes?"

"A'right, you heard your mother. Go to your room and wait for me," he ordered his children. "We're gettin' pancakes."

The boys scrambled out of their parents' bed, running as fast as their little feet could carry them back to their bedroom. Effie stretched, lithe as a cat but before she could climb out of bed, Haymitch's hand was back on her, pulling her to him. He pressed a kiss to her neck and eased her down until she was lying flat on her back. His lips found hers and he kissed her until she was out of breath.

"You were right, you know," he said.

"What was I right about?" she brows crinkled in confusion as she tried to catch her breath.

Effie was trying to understand what had gotten over Haymitch that morning only to dismiss his behavior as having to do with the Referendum. If the results of yesterday were anything to go by, Haymitch already had five districts in his favour which meant that the Referendum would probably turn out well for him. She wanted to remind him of it. They should get out of bed and find out what had happened while they were asleep but the intention remained unspoken because Haymitch smiled at her then, kissing her breast through the thin white sheet she was covering herself with.

He tugged on it to reveal her naked breasts. "You should sleep naked all the time," his eyes lighted up with appreciation at the sight and took a nipple in his mouth.

Effie moaned. Her hands flew up to tangle itself in his hair.

"Haymitch…" she breathed out. He was trailing wet kisses down her stomach. "No, no," she pulled on his hair before he could go down any further and distract her completely. "We can't do this! Not now."

Haymitch pinned her hands above her head and she giggled. The spark in his eyes almost made her want to let him have his way with her especially when he leaned in close to whisper in her ear - "I want you" – but she knew they couldn't. She was responsible for pancakes that morning.

"The children," she gasped, turning her face away from him before he pulled her into one of those kisses that could go on forever. "They're waiting for you and…" she groaned when he touched her between her legs. "Pancakes. Haymitch… I need to make pancakes."

Haymitch released his hold on her wrists and Effie was quick to scramble into a sitting position. He was a sight with his grey eyes that had darkened with lust and his hair a mess from where she had tousled it earlier.

She gave him a quick peck on his lips. "I'm sorry."

"Never thought pancakes will be more important than me," he frowned in jest.

Effie laughed and pulled her nightgown over her body. Haymitch lamented the loss of her naked self. He fell back on the bed.

"You have to get them ready!"

"Effie," he called, sitting up to look at her. She stopped at the door. "I was being completely serious. I want you."

"I know, and of course, you do. I'm irresistible," she winked, cracking a smile at him.

"No… I meant that you don't have to ... You can stay and…" he pursed his lips, annoyed at himself for not being able to get the words out.

He was growing frustrated that Effie had completely misunderstood what he meant. He wanted her more than just for the sex she gave him during their marriage.

He had said it yesterday. He had told her. Haymitch rubbed his face.

"You've set out the kids' clothes?" he asked instead.

XxX

Getting the boys ready for the day was actually a more difficult chore than making the effort to keep the house clean. Ethan was constantly on his feet moving from one place to the other and getting him to put on his pants took a lot of coaxing and bribing. He never knew how Effie did it but he bribed his son with extra time with the geese or a bar of chocolate. Tristan, on the other hand, had recently developed an obsessive habit of making his own bed after Effie showed him the ways. He was adamant that nobody helped him. He had always wanted to accomplish things on his own - a trait Haymitch had noticed since he was two.

"The pillows' arranged just fine," Haymitch grumbled as he stood there trying to resist the urge to make his son's bed himself in order to speed things up. "Come on, peanut, I don't have all day."

"No!" Tristan frowned, righting the pillow against the headboard for the third time.

Ethan had long abandoned his brother after Haymitch gave him permission to leave the room. He thumped down the stairs loudly and ran out of the front door. It was ten minutes later that Haymitch finally left the twins' room with Tristan holding tight to his hand.

"Go on," he directed his son to the kitchen. "I'll get your brother."

Haymitch walked out to the front porch and down the steps, his eyes scanning the premises for his youngest son. He saw Peeta peering out of the window looking at someone with an amused smiled on his lip and that was when he saw Ethan near the fences in front of the Mellark's house, his fingers digging into the dirt.

He growled in annoyance. "Ethan!"

The boy was used to his parents shouting after him that he merely turned his head slightly over his shoulder. His eyes locked with his father's irritated gaze.

"Come here right now. You'll get yourself dirty again. I ain't going through the whole process of gettin' you cleaned up. And I sure ain't having your mother nag at me."

He ran towards Haymitch, clutching on to his prize and was promptly thrown over Haymitch's shoulder as he carried the child back to the house.

"I play with geese now! You promise," he demanded. "I'm not hungry."

"Hungry or not, you're having those pancakes. You don't know what I had to sacrifice for those pancakes," Haymitch grumbled, tightening his hold on the boy. "Stop fidgeting."

"Haymitch," Peeta called out. His face was grim. "Plutarch's been trying to call. You should look at the papers."

Haymitch froze mid-stride. There was a stabbing pain in his chest as he considered what the look on Peeta's face could possibly mean. The law remains, the thought swam into his mind, all of that work for nothing. He nodded at Peeta but said little else.

"Do me a favour, will you? Get me the morning paper, tiger."

Ethan hopped on to his bright blue battery operated toy car that Felix had bought and drove over to the mail box which made Haymitch sighed impatiently. When they entered the kitchen, Haymitch had the paper in his hand. He threw it over the counter not at all eager to read it now that he had the distinct feeling that nothing in Panem had changed.

"Oh, is that for me?" Effie asked, feigning surprise.

Ethan nodded enthusiastically and gave his mother a stalk of yellow flower he had plucked from outside the fences of Peeta's house earlier.

"Thank you, baby," she trilled, kissing Ethan's cheek. "Now go and join your brother. Bananas or blueberries, darlings?

Haymitch rolled his eyes. He had no idea where Ethan had picked up the habit of plucking flowers for his mother every morning and he would have no problem with it except Effie would sometimes teased him about how his son was more of a gentleman than he was.

"Berries!" Tristan answered without looking up from his new colouring book. "Please," he added quickly.

"Bananas," Ethan replied, climbing on to the seat next to his brother to see what he was doing. "I want that," he pointed at a crayon.

"No," Tristan frowned. "You'll make it ugly."

"I won't!"

Ethan plucked a black crayon and began colouring over his brother's work furiously. Tristan shrieked in anger and climbed down the chair, a huge pout on his face. Effie rubbed her temple, already anticipating an argument.

"Da! Make him stop!" Tristan demanded, standing in front of Haymitch. His eyes blazed with fury and Haymitch wanted to laugh at how someone so tiny could be that furious. He had seen this look on Effie before.

"He looks like you," Haymitch chuckled. "You both look alike when you're angry."

"It's all black," the boy's lips quivered, pointing at the colouring book.

"Listen," he lifted Tristan up to his lap. "It's the same like a blank white canvas, 'cept it's black. You can draw over it … with a different colour. Not everything that's black is bad, you gotta learn how to change the situation and make what you will out of it."

Haymitch lifted his eyes to see Effie smiling at him and he supposed he was giving the right advice. The corner of Tristan's eyes wrinkled. He looked up at Haymitch questioningly.

"Draw something else over the black," Haymitch explained, turning to Ethan he said, "and tiger? That wasn't very nice. You wait until your brother said it's okay before you colour over his stuff."

Ethan tilted his head, looking abashed. "Do you wanna colour with me?" the little boy asked, holding out a baby blue crayon for Tristan in a silent apology.

Almost immediately, the ice in Tristan's eyes thawed. He nodded and slid down from Haymitch's lap to sit next to his brother, their blonde heads bend down in concentration.

Haymitch leaned back in his chair.

"Crisis averted," he said.

"Well done," Effie patted his shoulder as she served out the pancakes to the children. "Have you heard anything about the referendum? We should probably turn on the television. There'll be news of it I'm sure."

"Oh," Haymitch licked his fingers cleaned off the maple syrup and snatched the paper he had discarded earlier from the counter. He handed it to Effie. "Peeta said to read the papers. He didn't look happy. You check the papers. I'll see if there's anythin' on TV."

With a glance towards the two children to make sure they were occupied, Haymitch scraped his chair back at the same time that Effie unfolded the morning paper. He heard her breath hitched as her eyes fell on the title printed in bold across the front page.

"Haymitch," she whispered, reaching out for him.

They crossed the room towards the other side of the kitchen away from the children.

"What's it say? What's the vote in Twelve?"

"You got Twelve. 80% majority vote for the second option but that's … that's not what…" she raised her head, staring at him. "You did it, Haymitch. Look."

Effie spread the newspaper on the counter and Haymitch peered over her shoulder to read. He felt the air leave his body.

"Dissolved," he breathed out. His head fell on her shoulder, and he started laughing in relief. "We got it. We won!"

His arms snaked around her waist and he pulled her against his chest. Effie had gone silent and rigid. It was clear that she did not share his enthusiasm.

"Read the paper, Haymitch."

MARRIAGE LAW DISSOLVED

What will happen to the children now?

With a 65% vote in favour of the second option in District Six at two in the morning today, it was becoming evidently clear to most people in Panem that the Referendum was leaning towards the abolishment of the law. At six this morning, with the final votes in District Twelve tallied and accounted for, all the districts had made their choices plain. Therefore, the Council as decreed by the mandate of the people thereby announced the abolishment of the Marriage Law.

Former prominent rebel leaders, Plutarch Heavensbee and Haymitch Abernathy who could not be reached after the vote count was concluded has been relentlessly opposing the law since it was enacted five years ago. The Referendum…

Haymitch skipped the whole paragraph giving a brief background on his work on the appeals and the birth of the Referendum.

There should be a grand cause for celebration if not for the swift announcement by the Council that left many in Panem confused and uncertain.

"Haymitch?" her hand found his and held in a death-crushing grip.

He did not like the way her voice caught in her throat. She must have read ahead to find something that shocked her. His fixed his attention on the remaining paragraphs of the article.

In light of the people's clear choices, the Council is anticipating a wave of divorce applications. With the objective of reducing such applications in Court and to mitigate the overwhelming paper work, all marriages under the law has now been annulled and dissolved. Parties may appear before a Registrar to collect their Certificate of Dissolution of Marriage in three weeks' time.

Parties who wished to have their marriage renewed are to appear before a Registrar to register and record their marriage with the Registry of Marriages at the City and to obtain a new marriage certificate. All current marriage certificates signed under the marriage law are void effective immediately.

Parties are advised to reach an amicable resolution with regards to the custody of their children and to subsequently appear before the Courts for custody arrangements to be recorded. If an amicable resolution is not possible, parties are required to inform the Courts of the same within the next twenty-one (21) days, and a date for custody hearing will then be fixed.

Haymitch wanted to scream. He wanted to destroy things. Where there should be a sense of triumph, there was only a hole in which an adulterated anger was quickly taking its space. He glanced over at Effie. She was as pale as death; the same way she looked when he had walked into Plutarch's office five years ago.

He took a step back from her, leaning heavily on the kitchen counter. Haymitch grappled with the handle of the top cupboard where he extracted a half full bottle of whiskey from it. Effie watched him fumble with the cap before he drank straight from the bottle in large gulps. He had stopped drinking in front of the twins and the fact that he had reverted to it made her heart clenched.

"What does this mean?" Effie choked, wiping away the tears that had fallen down her cheeks. She was so afraid. "Haymitch… Haymitch, please, talk to me."

What have I done?

"Mama?" Tristan tugged on Effie's dress. "Why you cryin'?"

Effie dropped to her knees and pulled Tristan into a hug. She buried her face in her son's shoulder and sobbed. That sight nearly broke him.

"Effie," he called out for her.

"What does it mean, Haymitch?"

"You know what it means, sweetheart," Haymitch rasped. His voice was strained. It was difficult for him to talk without his voice betraying how he felt. "We're not married anymore."

Haymitch hated how that sounded.

She was his wife yesterday night. He was someone's husband. And just as the law had changed his life five years ago, it had ripped it again in a blink.

XxX

To be continued…

A/N: The hardest part to write for this chapter was the first part that dealt with Haymitch's emotions. I wrote and rewrote it several times because vulnerable Haymitch is never easy to write. But I enjoyed picking those little, little moments in their life that stuck to him the most and made him realize the depth of his feelings for her.

That aside, I know the ending isn't a happy ending. I do apologise if the ending has disappointed some readers. But from the moment I started writing Consortium, I have always intended for it to end this way. Consortium started with the law, and I wanted to end it with the law. I don't want any of you angry with me so now is a good time to say that I have plans for a continuation which will address the effects the law left behind and how it ultimately affects Haymitch, Effie and the twins. It will be called Divortium and I hope that my plans will work out!

Finally, I want to thank everyone who has stuck through with this story – reading, reviewing, and putting it on alert and favourite. Thank you so, so much for all your support. I read through every single review. They kept me motivated to keep on writing. So thank you everyone! I really appreciate all the kindness, love and support you've shown me and the story! I'm actually sad that this has ended but I shall see you in the next one, I hope.

(also, please leave a review and let me know your thoughts!)