A/N: This is a story submitted for the Starvation's Monthly Forum challenge, and the prompt is Five. Please review if you can :)
It was a beautiful moment. A beautiful day. A beautiful time. He stood there, in all his perfection, a smile lighting up his face, as he waited. Waited for her to walk down that aisle. Waited for her to smile in return. He looked ever so handsome to her, so much so that she had doubts – how could this be true she wondered? How could this be possible? But her feet paid no attention to these thoughts, instead carrying her across that floor, past the people lined up in chairs, walking towards him. She stood by his side, her heart hammering in her chest. She took his hand. This was perfect. This was what she had waited for. She loved him, and for some odd reason he loved her. They would be forever bound together in perfe-
And then someone sneaked up behind him and cut off his head. It rolled along the floor, away from her, towards the wide-eyed audience. She screamed. Frantically, she looked around hoping that someone could explain to her what had happened, but she was no longer where she thought she was. She was back in the Games. Her beautiful white gown was worn and tattered, torn and mud splattered, and every step she took towards his head unravelled it more and more. She could feel herself unravelling with it.
"NO NO NO NO NO FINNICK!" she yelled at the top of her lungs. Tears were streaming down her face, an endless torrent of pain, confusion and loss. But when she reached him, it wasn't Finnick anymore. It was the Boy. Her District Partner, his face permanently frozen in shock.
She sobbed harder. Her tears completely blurred her vision, until everything around her was just blobs of colour.
And that was when the flood came, carrying the Boy away from her as she drifted...
"FINNICK WHERE ARE YOU!" she shouted, jolting herself up from sleep. Annie thrashed in her bed, twisting the sheets around her until she was trapped. Hysteria rose, threatening to take over. Her tenuous hold to the earth was stretched thin, fraying, about to break...
"FINNICK!" she cried out again. "FINNICK!"
She was a writhing mess on her bed, eyes wild and crazed, hair matted on one side of her head. She felt like she was torn, like a hole had been punched right through her chest and everything around it was shattering and falling away. She didn't want the pain. She hated it. She began clawing at her chest, trying to rip the pain away. Her nails, sharp as knives, left big red scratches all over her body. Blood began to seep through some of the wounds. But it wouldn't go away. She couldn't make it go away. She scratched harder, and harder, and harder. The sheets restricted her movements somewhat, but that didn't stop her.
"Mum, mum, mum calm down. Mum, calm down. It's okay, it's okay. Mum breathe. Please, mum, stop it," a voice said.
The hands that matched the voice came out to hold Annie's arms, pinning them down to the bed so she wouldn't hurt herself anymore. With a strength no boy his age should have, he held her there, waiting till she calmed down.
"Mum, it's me, Finn. It's okay, it was just a dream. Okay? Calm down. Focus on me, look at my eyes. It's me. You're awake now. Breathe," Finn said, with a practised tone that he had clearly used many times before.
Annie looked up at him, and for a moment he feared that she had finally reached that point of no return, that she would never again recognise him as her son. But her eyes focused on him, and he saw the glint of recognition in her beautiful sea green eyes. She knew him, remembered him. It was okay. For now, a little voice in his head whispered, but he paid no attention to it. He needed to help is mother.
"Finn, it's you," she whispered, voice hoarse from screaming.
"Yeah, mum, it's me. It's okay now. I got you. Here, let me help you out of this mess," he said, motioning to the sheets that entangled her. "I'm going to let you go now, can I trust you to not hurt yourself again? You calm?"
She gave a small nod of her head. He nodded in return, more to himself, and began to work on unknotting his mother from her sheets. He worked quickly and efficiently, with a practised hand, and soon enough she was free. He left the room for a brief moment before coming back with a damp rag and some salve.
"Mum, I need to put some salve on you, okay? It will help your scratches. Is that okay with you?" he asked her carefully, studying her expression so that he would know what frame of mind she was in.
Again, she nodded at him, but she was far away with her thoughts, her expression glazed. Finn sighed, knowing he would probably not get any other reaction from her tonight. Gently, he wiped over her wounds with the salve, making sure he didn't put too much pressure and cause her pain. But he didn't think that she would care if he did. She probably wouldn't notice. He catalogued her wounds, noting how bad this episode was. As far as things went, it wasn't the worse that she had gone through. There were many scars that covered her body – small, light scars barely visible even in the light. But he had learnt to note every one of them. It was just the way things went. To understand when she felt things were bad, or awful. He needed to know these things, so he could stop her from doing something like...kill herself. He shuddered at the thought.
"Okay mum, all done. You can lie down and go back to sleep," he whispered.
Even in her trance-like state, she heard him on some level and responded by falling back against her pillows. Annie closed her eyes. Finn got up to leave, eyes focused on the door, but her hand clutching his arm stopped him. He looked down at it with sympathy in his gaze. Resigned, he made himself comfortable on the edge of her bed, one hand holding hers and the other stroking her hair away from her face.
From the moment Finn Odair was born, he was given five rules to live by:
Be strong. The weak couldn't support anyone. The weak couldn't support themselves. The weak couldn't survive.
Be caring. The cruel were hated. The cruel were unloved. The cruel would die alone.
Be smart. The stupid wouldn't get anywhere in life. The stupid were useless. The stupid were better off dead.
Be a father to his mother. His mother couldn't take care of herself, let alone take care of him. He had to do it. He had to grow up fast and be there for her.
Be his father. Finnick Odair. He couldn't be anything less. No one would let him.
And ever since he was old enough to realise the rules, he did them as best he could. Nothing else mattered. These five rules shaped his life, dictating everything he did, everything he said, everything he thought. These were the only things that mattered.
He learned these rules well, and he learned them fast. He had to.
Light eased through the cracks in the curtains, and it woke Finn from his light slumber. His was stiff, and there was a crick in his neck from how he had slept last night. Sleeping while sitting up was not comfortable, but his mum had needed him. And that was that. Rubbing his neck, he tried to ease some of the soreness, but it didn't relent. It was nothing he wasn't used to and he could deal with it. He got up from the bed, careful not to jostle Annie, and tip-toed to the door. But he needn't have bothered – Annie was wide-awake, staring at him with vacant eyes. It was like she saw him as a glass window; she knew it was there, but yet she still looked right through it.
"Are you hungry, mum? Do you want some breakfast?" he asked her, hand already turning the door handle.
She gave no reply, just continued staring through him. She didn't even move. If it wasn't for the slow rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed, she may have been a statue. He waited a little while longer, just in case she snapped out of the daze she was in to give him an answer, but she did no such thing. With the feeling of her eyes on his back, he left the room, closing the door almost silently behind him. It was time for him to go to work, and he would come back to check on her during his break.
Finn was 16 years old, tall and handsome like his father, but twice as strong. His muscles were noticeable, even under a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants. He was fit, healthy, and ready for anything. He worked hard labour – building houses, building dams, building anything that they told him to build. It was easy for him, and they didn't care if he was under-age or that he should be in school, as long as he was strong and got the job done. And he was happy to receive the money. Although his father had left them a fair amount, and that Annie herself was a previous Games victor, he didn't want to be caught off guard. The money that the Capitol had given her was getting smaller, especially since the rebellion had happened. Although they were still receiving some, and they were taken care of, Finn wasn't sure it would be enough for very much longer. Everything was in flux, everything changing, and he didn't know if his mum would be forgotten and left in the dirt just because of who she was and her state of mind.
So, he worked, and worked hard, steadily saving money just in case. Just to be sure.
And the time away from his mother gave him time to think.
He arrived at his work place, like normal, but something was different. Something had changed. He could feel it. He glanced around the squat building (surely, he thought, builders could build themselves a nicer place) and saw that the four men inside it had turned to face him. They were all deeply tanned from working outside so often. The two tallest men had long, brown hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, one had a buzz cut and the shortest was bald. All four of them were well built and could clearly hold their own in a fight. He recognised them from some of the building sites he had worked on, but he didn't know their names. The bald man stepped forward, clearly showing that he was the leader of the pack, but they all wore similar expressions of anger and loathing, enough to scare almost anyone.
But he was Finn. He had to be strong. 5 rules, 5 rules, 5 rules...
One of the men laughed, and there was a cruel edge to it.
"We found out who you are, boy. You think you could hide it forever?" the short, stocky man boomed, his voice reverberating in Finn's ears.
Finn almost winced at the sound, but he didn't dare. These men looked ready to pounce on him, and if he gave any emotion away, he feared that they would.
"Well, if you know, then tell me. Who am I, mate?" Finn replied, voice steady even though his fists were clenched tight with fear and anger.
The men exchanged looks that seemed to say 'look at the nerve of this boy.' Finn saw it, but chose to wait. Patience. The stocky, bald one stepped even further away from his mates, eyes set on Finn, sizing him up. But from the smirk he gave the boy, it was clear he didn't think this would be any challenge.
"That crazy woman's son, aren't you? You know, she don't deserve to live for nothing. She don't deserve to live. she shouldn't get money for free. She can't work, she can't live. What about us workers? We 'ave to work don't we? Or we starve. But no. She gets off scott-free. No, we don't like her, not at all," he said, steadily advancing.
Finn felt his cheeks grow red with fury, but he remained silent and held his ground.
"Not only that, you are Finnick's son aren't ya? We don't like 'im either. You know what he did? He was a prostitute. He sold himself. He did nuffin' good for no-one, 'xcept those rich Capitol people's that wanted a good time. Well, our version of a good time is a little...dif'frent from your old man's," he told Finn, cracking his knuckles and raising his eyebrows threateningly.
Finn didn't understand. He hadn't been told that. No one had mentioned a word of that. Not to him. His father was described as being good and kind and loving and smart and clever and strong and perfect...
But this. This didn't sound like him. This was not the father he had imagined. He sold himself? Why? What was the point? He had money – living off what the old Capitol gave him – why do that? And he betrayed mum too, didn't he? In fact, he was paid to betray her. Why would he do that? HOW could he do that? It went against everything Finn believed in, everything he thought his father had believed in.
Finn was furious. His expression twisted into something grotesque and horrible. The stocky man's smile fell from his face, and he glanced at his cronies confusedly. This was strange. They hadn't expected this. The anger emanating from the boy was a surprise. Surely he knew this? Surely he had gotten used to living with the shame? Then why is he looking like that, the men wondered? Why is he looking so...
"Shut. Up," Finn said through gritted teeth. He balled fists were glued to his sides, but he was shaking.
The men laughed nervously, although they all still stood with the confidence of knowing that they outnumbered Finn 4 to 1. There was strength in numbers.
"Ngaw, look at the little boy. Did I get you angry, shnookums? Did I make you mad?" the one with a buzz cut said, making baby faces at Finn.
In that split second, something broke inside Finn. Something snapped. There was a pile of bricks sitting in a pile in the corner of the room. Without thinking, Finn reached for the pile, and hurled two bricks at the nearest guys. Their eyes widened in shock as the bricks hit them squarely in the face, knocking them backwards. The other two cronies paid them barely a second glance as they started towards Finn. Their mouths curled up into a snarl, ferocious and animal-like in the intensity, and their fingers were outstretched as they tried to grasp Finn's throat. Finn ducked under them easily, but they were surprisingly fast. They whipped around, and one brought down his meaty hand on the back of Finn's neck. With a muffled cry, Finn fell to the floor.
5 rules, 5 rules, 5 rules. Got to be strong. Have to be. Mum is waiting for me. Mum needs me. Have to be strong. Have to get through this. Need to get home...
With these thoughts whirling round his head, Finn rolled over to face the men. He kicked the men's legs out from underneath them, and they landed with a loud thud on the floor. Now they were equal, Finn thought, they were all on the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the two men he had hit with bricks rousing themselves up, prepared to fight. Finn realised that he didn't stand a chance – he couldn't win. It was near impossible. But he needed to find a way home.
5 rules, 5 rules, 5 rules . Got to be smart. Got to find a way to get out of this mess I have created for myself.
His breath came to him quickly, as the adrenaline coursed through his system. It sped things up, slowed things down, warped time impossibly until it seemed to Finn like he was in another world. He had to think, and think fast. The four men were aggravated now, and in pain. That was never a good combination.
Finn jumped to his feet, and scrambled away from the men that were closest to him. They were getting up too but, thanks to Finn, the wind had been knocked out of them and it was hard for them. Finn turned around, spotted the door and made a run for it. A fist came flying out, whacking Finn solidly on the side of the head. It made his ears ring, and when he opened his eyes there appeared to be eight men after him. He knew he was seeing double, but the shock stung him into action anyway. Finn threw his arms out carelessly, just hoping that he would hit one of his attackers. He was lucky. His left hand landed in one of their faces, and a sickening crack resulted. The man dropped back, clutching his nose as blood gushed down his face, and that was all Finn needed. He was out of there, running as fast as he could even though he was still reeling from the punch. The buildings and houses blurred past him, and his pursuers soon lost sight of him. Eventually he saw his house looming up in front of him. It was a welcome sight.
He crashed through the door, stumbling up the steps into his mother's room. Annie was there, still in the same spot, but she started once he burst through her door. It was then that Finn broke down. He felt betrayed. By both his father, and himself.
He was meant to be strong – and yet here he was breaking down in front of the person he had sworn to take care of and protect.
He was meant to be caring – and yet he had easily thrown those bricks at strangers, breaking one's nose and causing them all pain.
He was meant to be smart – and yet he had landed himself in that stupid situation, he hadn't covered his tracks well enough, and he had barely gotten out of there.
He was meant to take care of his mother – and yet he couldn't even take care of himself.
He was meant to be his father – and yet the thought simply sickened him now.
He was meant to be all these things. They were all he was. Sobs racked through him, and he crumpled to the floor, curling up in a foetal position. He was betrayed. He was everything he didn't want to be. He couldn't stand himself.
He lay there, bawling like the five year old he had never been, completely disgusted. Annie watched all this, and slowly she came out of whatever world she had been in and focused on her son. She dragged herself from her bed and sat down beside him, patting him gently with her hand.
"It's okay, Finn, it's okay. I'm here," she murmured as she pulled him into a hug, staying like that till the tears subsided. "Finn, I'm proud of you, no matter what."
Finn didn't feel proud. He wasn't being himself, instead he was trying to be someone else, someone who he didn't even really know, someone he didn't want to be.
So Finn Odair, son of Annie Cresta, changed Rule Number Five.