madwinner | After the 70th Hunger Games [Closed to Finnick]

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After the 70th Hunger Games [Closed to Finnick]

She'd come off stage after her interview without any fight left in her. Annie had been led along by countless prodding hands she couldn't put faces too, urged into the room she'd started all of this in. The interview itself had been horrible to watch, awkward and unnerving for everyone involved. Annie had stared without seeing, answered the first few questions with single words and then lapsed into silence as Caesar Flickerman worked admirably to rescue it. She didn't care. She didn't want to speak to him. She only really wanted to speak to two people. Her Father was miles away, on the edge of the ocean. And the other... well, she didn't know if he would even want to see her now.

Annie lay on the bed, dressed in the shift she'd been wearing under whatever her stylist had dressed her in. Someone must have undressed her, because she didn't even remember putting the dress on, let alone removing it. She saw her body, cleaned and polished after her time in the arena, curled childishly on its side on the bed, but she just couldn't remember how to move it. She didn't have anything any more. Just images that flashed in front of her eyes. Terrible, violent scenes that were painted behind her eyelids whenever she tried to sleep. Everything was that and the canonfire that rang endlessly in her ears.

Annie made a noise, her lips parting slightly. She saw it again. Heard the whistle of something sharp through the air, the look of surprise on his face, the slight widening of his eyes before they fell. Then the crimson shower of droplets, the thud of something heavy hitting the grass... Her gaze was fixed on the wall, but she watched it all again for the hundredth time, oblivious to the door opening or the tread of footsteps.

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Finnick had been busy since Annie had won the Games - answering the questions of countless reporters, being interviewed again and again by the same people - trying to explain what had happened to turn the once bubbly young lady into what she was.

Damn these people.

Couldn't he see that she needed to be left alone? That they had hurt her in ways they couldn't possibly explain? He hated them more now than he had ever hated them before, when it had just been him they were hurting. He had never worked so hard as a mentor, never given so much. He had given everything of him there was to give - everything - in order to get her what she needed, and he still hadn't been able to protect her. And it cut him more surely than a knife.

When he finally got away from the crowds, the first thing he did was rush to Annie's room. He wanted to see her, he needed to see her, especially after the disaster that was her last interview.

He knocked on the door to her room, but there was no answer. This did not necessarily surprise him, and he tried the knob, finding it unlocked. He slipped inside, locking the door behind him to keep prying eyes out. Stepping into the dark room, he saw the small figure on the bed, curled into a fetal position, and the sight alone almost made him weep.

He crossed the room to her, unable to stop himself as he sat on the bed and gathered her up into his arms.

Annie didn't react straight away, just let herself be gathered up as if she was nothing more than a rag doll, her head falling hopelessly to rest against him. The place she'd hidden had been cold and hard, and the chill in the water afterwards had seemed to seep into her bones and lodge there. She was cold and numb from the inside out, and strange shivers still wracked her body every so often.

Eventually she realised there was warmth beside her. A body, with a strong heartbeat beating steadily under her cheek. Annie shifted, before slowly clenching her fingers into the fabric of the shirt the figure was wearing, as desperately as if she could drag herself back just by hanging on. It was another few minutes before she could turn her head enough to see a face.

Finnick.

Annie felt a dam break in her chest, releasing something more painful than she could ever have imagined. It rushed through her like a wave, filling that cold, numb space until she could hardly stand it. Her face crumpled and her arms wrapped around him, and before Annie could recognise that terrible sound filling the room as herself she was sobbing. Huge, childlike sobs that wracked her whole body.

Finnick held her, protectively, possessively, as if daring the world to touch her. She would be safe in his arms, no matter what. He rested his cheek against her hair as he held her, rubbing her back, soothingly, whispering small nothings to her, comforting her as he would a child.

He understood.

He had been here himself, after the Capitol had killed his family, and made him into their whore. After they had taken away his autonomy, stolen his self-respect, and butchered his dignity, he himself had curled up in a ball in his room, lost to all but Haymitch and his bottle of white liquor.

He had seen what had happened to her in the Arena, every minute of it. And every minute he had wished he had been there, beside her, to hold her as he was holding her now. To be with her, to support her, to give to her all the parts of himself that they hadn't already taken.

He wasn't sure how long he rocked her. It didn't matter. He'd stay here until he died, if the choice was his. Holding her, comforting her - there was nothing more important than that.

Softly, almost as a lullaby, he began to recite a piece of the poem that she had once recited to him, in...it was said to say, better times.

"And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying."

He hoped the images, the sound of home...might pull her back to him, even just a little.

Annie cried until she had nothing left in her to give, until her eyes were sore and her head and muscles ached. In the end, minutes or hours later, all she could manage were quiet, dry little sobs that ripped at her throat and chest. Exhausted, she sagged back against him and listened to the words. They reminded her of distant beaches and blue water, of her Father sat with a net spread over his lap. Annie relaxed, trusting the man who held her to keep things away even as her eyelids dropped and she fell into a pained, unpleasant almost-sleep.

It was shown to her again. Canons, blood. The others' distorted, twisted faces as they bore down on each other. A rumble and the whole world seemed to fall apart in a rush of water. Annie screamed, but her mouth filled and it sank into her lungs, dragging her under to where the headless body waited... Annie opened her mouth again, but this time there was something there and she started awake to the sound of her own scream tearing through the bedroom.

Her hand flew to her mouth and Annie bit down to smother the noise, breaking the skin until she tasted something sharp and metallic on her tongue. She reached for Finnick, knowing instictively where he was, and wrapped her body around his until there wasn't an inch of space left where things could get to her. Until it was just her and him.

"Make it stop," she begged him, "Please. I just want to go home."

Finnick had fallen asleep beside her after she'd cried herself to sleep, holding her in his embrace. It felt so natural, being with her like this, that he knew the feelings he'd been denying while she was in the arena were truer than he still cared to admit.

Loving her would only hurt both of them, because the Capitol would never let him go.

When she awoke, clinging to him, he closed his eyes and pulled her as tightly to him as he could.

"Soon. Soon, sweetheart. You can go home soon. Just a few more days and we'll be on the train taking us back to Four."

He ran his fingers through her hair, and planted a kiss on her forehead. She would then stay back at home, while he came back to the Capitol to fulfill his 'obligations.' But he would steal a few days to take her to the cave, whether they liked it or not. He wanted her to see that, he wanted her to see that there was still beauty in the world.

Something went off in her head, and Annie gave a low whimper, burrowing still further into his chest, hooking a leg through his. She had thought, in the arena, about thanking him for the things that got sent. But right now she couldn't do it, because everything was broken and everything hurt and she wished he'd just left her there. She wished her canon had gone off on the first night, because she couldn't imagine ever being whole or fixed again. She didn't know how to unsee it all.

Before the arena, she'd been more or less a typical teenage girl with a crush. A very big crush, she'd told herself. One that made her heart ache and complete at the same time. One that meant her entire life seemed to revolve around a training session that only lasted a few hours. But Finnick would never want her - he could have anyone. And she hadn't been so arrogant as to believe she had much of a chance of ever getting out. Now... now it all seemed so trivial and pointless, and she still couldn't find the energy to shut it off. She didn't even have the energy to fight it.

The canonfire crashed through her skull again, and this time Annie reached for Finnick's hands and pulled them up to cover her ears, resting hers on top and screwing her eyes tightly closed. Eventually there was quiet again, and she let him go, turning her gaze up to his. She didn't even think much of how close they were, their heads resting on the same pillow.

"You'll stay?" she asked. "I don't like... The doctors and medics and everyone, they..." She couldn't catch her words, and took a breath, forcing herself to slow down. "I don't like how they look at me." As if she was an inanimate object that needed to be fixed. Or, more recently, like she was an inanimate object that needed to be thrown in the trash.

And...reality returned.

As much as he desperately wanted to, he couldn't stay tonight. He had a...'date' - as much as he hated to use that word. And they were already watching his interactions with Annie - Snow had already approached him about how dangerous it would be to show feelings towards the 'mad' victor girl.

So if he didn't go, he was putting her in danger. Apparently, he wasn't allowed to love.

"Oh, Annie," he said, his voice soft with regret. "Would that I could. But I have to go tonight...I have...somewhere I have to be. But I'm going to have a friend come over, her name's Johanna, she's a victor from District 7. She's a good friend of mine, and she'll take care of you while I'm gone. And I'll be back in the morning, I promise."

Annie didn't have the will, control or energy to hide how her expression changed with his words, the way hurt bled even more deeply into her eyes. "Johanna," she managed to repeat, unsure if it was a question or just a resignation that coloured her voice and made it catch. Because she knew what that meant - 'somewhere to be'. It meant there was someone else waiting in the queue of beautiful people that hung around to spend time with Finnick. A line that she was apparently part of. Even now.

It felt like just one more awful thing in a series of many. The pain in Annie's chest seemed to rip her wide open, leaving a wound that was raw and gaping and vulnerable. She rolled over, away from him, curling her knees up until her chest until she was a tight, inpenetrable ball, her gaze falling back onto the spot on the wall that had held her attention for so long.

"Annie!" it was a miserable sound, as she ripped herself away from him, his heart shattering into a thousand places as she did. He knew she wouldn't understand - because he hadn't tried to explain it. He'd never tried to explain it to anyone. Haymitch knew, because he'd seen...maybe because he'd been there. He didn't know. But he'd never put words to this thing they did to him, and now he wished he had, because he'd know which words to use now, to explain to her how much he wanted to be with her, but staying and skipping this 'date' was dangerous on so many different levels.

He put his arm around her from behind, trying to pull her close, to pull her out of this darkness she had buried herself in.

"Annie..." he whimpered, nestling his face against her neck. "Annie, please come back to me, please, sweetheart."

And then, with a deep breath, he found the strength to form the words he'd never said before.

"I don't have a choice."

She resisted, burrowing further and further into herself in an attempt to escape his voice, to the point where she couldn't feel his arm around her or his chest against her back. To the point where she didn't notice his breath warming her neck.

She couldn't do it, couldn't expose herself to more hurt than she'd already had these last few days and weeks. Annie had always been emotionally wide open, felt things to a point that it had left her like this. She was starting to see that perhaps she couldn't be like that now, that she needed to harden just to get through the day. She saw her friends face again, surprised as the blade hit his throat.

Then he said something else, and the surprise of it pulled her almost violently back, making her forget what she'd just decided. Confused, Annie didn't reply but allowed her hand to touch the back of the arm wrapped around her, letting him know she was listening.

"I don't have a choice," he repeated, softer this time. "Snow...he...rewards those in his favor with...me. They pay...a lot of money...and I do what he tells me to. I let them use me, I let them hurt me, I let them...God, things I don't even want to think about. I don't want to, Annie. I hate it. I hate them. All of them. But the one time I said no..."

His breath caught, and he nuzzled his face into her throat, needing her to understand this so desperately.

"The one time I said no, and embarrassed Snow, he killed my family. And I'm afraid if I say no tonight, they'll hurt you. And I couldn't stand that. I love you, Annie."

She listened in silence, her gaze still fixed on the wall but in a different way than before. She wasn't seeing something playing out inside her head, she was fixed in the moment, caught in the words Finnick was saying and feeling her heart and her stomach sink lower and lower. For the first time in days, it wasn't the consuming, horrified fear that had filled her, but some desperate, heart-wrenching sadness.

It all made sense now. Everything she had seen in his face from that first day, that first training session where they had eaten fish and she'd bruised him. The pieces fell slowly into place, leaving Annie tasting a bitter taste in the back of her mouth.

Finally, she rolled back to face him, her expression such a mixture of things it was almost unreadable. Finally, she took a breath, feeling as if she hadn't managed to do that much for hours, then shifted to press her lips against his. It was a careful kiss, as if she was afraid that the moment - or either of them - would shatter at any second. After a minute Annie pulled back a fraction, touching her fingertips against the side of his face.

"They've already hurt me," she pointed out. And she knew, deep down, she wasn't going to get better again. She couldn't fix the way she'd shattered in the arena. Annie let her gaze travel all over his face, drinking him in as if she could commit every elegant feature of him to memory. "You could run?" she suggested, although she knew it was hopeless.

Finnick actually started at her kiss - the reaction of someone who hadn't been allowed to make his own decisions on the matter in far too long - but it was only a brief moment before his hand found her cheek and he returned the kiss, more deeply than she had started it, desperate for the contact, for the closeness with her. It was a long kiss, a deep one, and with it, he realized that any doubt he had about his feelings were forever gone. He loved this woman, wholly, completely, without a doubt in his mind. He didn't care what others thought of her - in his eyes, she was perfection.

When he finally broke the kiss, he met her eyes and listened to her words, shaking his head sadly.

"They'd find me. Or they'd find Mags. Or you. And...and Annie, I'm not going anywhere without you."

He paused, unsure of how to say what he wanted to ask her.

"Can you...I can't...Annie, can you love me anyway?"

Annie paused. If they would go after his family, would they go after hers? She didn't think that the Capitol would approve of this, if they could see they way the pair were tangled together. But then she looked into his face, and realised there was no possible way she could become hard and cold enough to shut him out like she'd been thinking. Far from protecting her, it would only destroy her completely, because this was the most human she'd felt since they'd pulled her from the water.

She sighed, absently tracing the line of his jaw with her thumb. However she'd attempted to pass it off back before the arena, before she'd been forced to grow up in several horrific days, she knew this wasn't something she could just forget. She knew she'd been trying hopelessly to convince herself she was feeling something shallow and transient.

"I think I probably loved you ever since I hit you in the face," she told him. But although her tone was fond, it was laced with some resignation, because she knew this wasn't going to be a happy ending. It wasn't going to be easy, even if the Games were over. That was quickly becoming very clear to her.

Finnick closed his eyes, that gentle touch of her finger more precious to him than all the other women he'd loved combined. He leaned into her touch with a gentle sigh, then captured her finger and kissed it.

"You'll forgive me for leaving tonight, then? You'll know that I don't want to, that I want to stay here with you? That I'll be thinking of you the whole time, wanting to leave and come back to you?"

His eyes were big and pleading, hoping that she could understand that what he was doing, he was doing to protect her.

Annie watched him as he kissed her, pressing the pad of her finger against the curve of his bottom lip. If she had more energy, she might have been surprised that it was her room he was in, her that she was saying these things to. Instead all the emotion she could dreg up was some kind of dulled confusion.

"But you could have anyone," she pointed out. It wasn't her trying to flatter him - she'd never felt any need to do that with Finnick - it was an honest statement of fact.

Still, she believed what he was saying, and although she knew he was doing all this to protect her, what he had to do hurt all by itself. "I know, Finn," she reassured him. Annie had never been one of those girls who cried at the drop of a hat, but for the second time in as many hours she felt her eyes fill up. She shifted forward, fitting her body against his. She didn't sob this time - she couldn't. Instead she just let tears slide unchecked down her face.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," she told him, as if he didn't already know. "It wasn't supposed to..." Annie trailed off, wincing and pressing her forehead against his, an almost physical pain rushing through her and flashing over her features. "My head..."

Finnick had his issues, but confidence about his physical appearance and affect on the ladies was not one of them. He knew what she said was true - that he likely could have nearly any lady he wanted, if he set his mind to it. There sure seemed plenty that were always lining up to spend time with him.

But he didn't want any of them. He just didn't. They were all the same. Shallow, conceited Capitol dolls who didn't understand life, or what was important. They fussed and worried more about their hair and eyebrows than the lives of the children who were starving in Eleven and Twelve. They cared more about making a fool of themselves at parties than the children they watched dying in the arena. To be honest, they made him absolutely sick.

Annie, on the other hand...

He looked at her, pulling her closer as she winced, stroking her hair as if that could somehow ease the turmoil within.

"I don't want anyone but you," he muttered. "And it's never the way it's supposed to be, but when you're here, and with me like this, it feels damn close."

Closer than it had in a long time, anyway.

Annie eventually settled, body and mind relaxing as he held her close. This was better than any of the sedatives and drugs they'd pumped into her after they'd pulled her from the water. The Medic's idea of treating the suddenly "mad" Annie had only made her all the more numb and cold. This was warm and comfortable and felt about as close to being at home as she could imagine while still being in the Capitol.

And she really didn't want him to leave.

"Will you come straight back?" she asked him, keeping her face hidden in his chest. Annie wound her arms around him, sliding her hands under the layers of clothing to touch the skin in the small of his back. "Please, Finn?"

Finnick let out a small sigh at the touch of her hand on his bare skin. He yearned to tell her that he could stay, that he could stay the night here, with her, to hell with his obligations - but for her safety and his own it was simply not something he could do.

"Yes," he breathed, his voice quiet and intense. "The second I can leave, I'll come back here to you." He took her other hand and put it over his heart. "But the important part of me will be here with you the whole time, Annie."

Annie sighed and shifted up until her forehead toched his, her face a hairs breadth from his. She stretched out her fingers so her hand was flat against his chest, feeling his heart beating into her palm. She supposed that she could deal with that, being the one he came back to each time for as long as this lasted. She didn't know if she could keep him for long - she knew she didn't match up to the usual standards of Capitol girls and the rest. Especially not now.

She didn't want to be mad. She didn't want to be like this forever. The way they all looked at her...

Annie took a shuddering breath, shifting until she was comfortably tangled up in him.

"I'll wait for you," she told him quietly, letting her eyes drift closed. Perhaps if she fell asleep now, she wouldn't have to go through him leaving, and when she woke it would be like he hadn't left at all. Of course, with the mess of her thoughts that was easier said than done.

Finnick waited until the last possible moment to leave. He didn't want to leave at all - he wanted to stay, with Annie wrapped in his arms, and sleep there where he was safe and loved and nobody would hurt him.

But it wasn't to be.

She was quiet when Johanna arrived, and he was forced to leave, and he hoped she was asleep. Things would be simpler for her, then.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was early morning when he returned, the sky starting to soften, but the sun had not yet broken the horizon. Slipping in silently, he went immediately to the shower, taking the longest, hottest shower he could stand, his skin a scalded red when he finally stepped out. Needing desperately to feel covered, and not so vulnerable, he dressed in sleep-pants and a shirt before crawling back into bed with Annie, trembling. As he held her, the trembling slowed, and he nestled in closer to her, feeling that he had come home again.

Annie had been asleep when he'd left. When she'd been woken by a nightmare some hours later, it had been in a cold bed with a face she didn't recognise watching her. She'd screamed, and hadn't been able to stop. Eventually, despite the girl's protestations, they'd put something sharp into her arm and whatever flooded her veins put invisible weights on her limbs and dragged her back down into sleep.

When she woke up the next time, Finnick was just climbing into bed beside her. Still sore and exhausted, Annie kept her eyes shut, feeling the warm moisture that clung to him from the shower and the gentle trembling of his body. She reached up to rub soothing circles on his arm, not wanting to think about what had happened to him but finding it impossible.

"Are you okay, Finn?" she asked him gently, finally opening her eyes sleepily, concern obvious in her gaze.

"I'm fine," he said softly, snuggling in as close as he could to her. In reality, he was far from fine, but he didn't want to talk about how he really was. Damaged and hurting and vulnerable and afraid, and really anything but fine.

He just wanted to hold her, to be close to her, to feel her warmth and softness. He wanted not to feel dirty holding a woman, and to hold a woman that he loved. One who, just maybe, needed him as much as he needed her.

"How are you? You look sleepy. You should go back to sleep. I'm not going anywhere now."

"Liar," Annie murmured back, although she didn't push it any further, instead letting him nestle in closer. If Finnick didn't want to tell her something, then that was fine. After all, in the grand scheme of things they didn't know each other that well, even if it felt like she was closer to him than anyone else at this moment.

"I don't want to sleep," she told him, a little stubbornly. Evem if the best rest she'd had recently had been when Finnick had been lying with her, there was a part of her that was still terrified of sleeping. Annie's voice became quieter, and she settled until her head rested on his chest.

"Can you make them all just... leave me alone?" she whispered. Perhaps she had too much faith on Finnick's influence over the staff and people who worked on the games, but she didn't want to be styled any more, or given sedatives that made her numb and empty. After what had happened in the arena she'd rather hurt than that.

"I just..don't want to think about it," he said more softly. "And I am fine now that I'm back with you."

It hadn't been a particularly terrible night, as his 'dates' went. They hadn't hit him, or made him do anything especially horrible. But he hadn't wanted to be there, he hadn't wanted to do that with her, and he'd had to leave Annie, which broke his heart.

"Do you want to talk?" he said softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I can listen, Annie. You can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

Truth was, he was far more worried about her than he was about himself. He knew he could survive whatever they put him through, but Annie seemed so...broken. And he would do anything to make that terrified look in her eyes go away.

At her question, his eyes widened a bit. He didn't know how much power he had, but he'd definitely put everything he had into making sure of it.

"I'll try, sweetheart. I'll give it everything I've got."

“Thank you,” she whispered. Annie found that when Finnick promised to try, she believed him completely, and had utter faith in him. He was perhaps the only person she’d met in the Capitol that she could say that about.

Annie traced the line of his collarbone absently, her brow creasing into a frown. “I feel like…” She trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence. The point was it wasn’t something that made sense, or something she could really describe. She fell silent for a minute or two, screwing her eyes closed as she grappled for some purchase, trying to keep from sliding into darkness.

“I feel like I didn’t leave,” she tried again. And then the words wouldn’t stop and she heard herself as if from a distance, the way her voice sounded vaguely hysterical and her words tumbled into each other. “I keep seeing it. I’m not here, I’m there. And there’s so much noise. In my head. It hurts, Finnick. I’m… I’m scared. I don’t want to be like this forever. I can’t…” She realised suddenly that there were tears on her cheeks again, and without thinking Annie lifted her hands to press against her ears, wishing she could vanish completely.

"Shhh, shhh, Annie, it's okay. I'm here. I'm here. You're not alone, and you're not in the arena anymore..."

He held her tightly, leaning in to kiss away the tears on her face with tender kisses. Then he covered her hands with his own and carefully pulled them away.

"Look at me. Look at me. Look in my eyes. Focus on me. We can get through this, Annie, together. I know we can. Let me be strong for you."

And for the first time in ages, he felt that he actually could be strong, if it helped Annie.

It took a while, but Annie calmed down. She managed to lock her gaze with his and cling onto the connection like it was all she had to keep her from drowning, using what he was saying to pull herself back. Eventually she relaxed, the arena vanishing to be replaced by the room, which was just starting to fill with light as the sun began to come up.

Eyes still red and puffy, Annie leaned in to cup his cheek in her hand and touch her forehead against his. She tilted her jaw to kiss him softly, making it last as long as she could. She needed that contact, she realised. With Finnick there the idea or perhaps living like this was a lot less frightening. But in the light of what he’d told her and where he’d been tonight, there was something hanging over her.

“They won’t let us be together.” She didn’t think she had to explain which ‘they’ she was referring to.

Finnick kissed her back, his very being needing the contact as much as hers did. Something real, something pure, something he wanted, rather than having contact forced upon him by the Capitol. It was so special, so important, to have contact that he chose, that he wanted...it made him feel less vulnerable, less afraid, less...a victim, although he couldn't put into words exactly how. He deepened the kiss, also holding it for as long as she could, pulling her body as close against his as he could.

"They can't stop us," he almost growled, angry at the thought of the Capitol taking away this one good thing, as he was sure they would try to do. He kissed her again, with a deep desperation. "I need you, Annie."

Annie returned the kiss just as fiercely, allowing her body to be pulled flush against his. Finnick was strong and solid, and she felt safer here with him touching her than she had since she'd gone into the arena. Probably since the reaping itself weeks ago. "I love you," she breathed, once they'd pulled apart. She knew she'd already said it, but it felt important that he knew. She just wanted to make him happy as best she could.

"I need to sleep," she admitted, nuzzling her face into the curve of his neck, draping a slender arm over his chest. She didn't want to - she wanted to stay here talking to him - but she hadn't been sleeping much, and the few hours she'd got in Finnick's absence hadn't exactly been peaceful.

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After the 70th Hunger Games [Closed to Finnick]

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