You're Safe Now
Author Note: I saw something while looking at pictures of Catching Fire on Google...it was from Finnick to Katniss, telling her he was taking care of Prim and how she had to look after Annie and his little boy from him. Broke my heart...inspired me to extend on that idea. ;)
Death is an odd thing. The moment where life ceases is so breakingly painful, so caving, and so blinding. And yet it is beautiful, a moment where something detaches from yourself and goes into a more beautiful place. It is love, it is hate. It is the only moment where everything is certain.
When he woke up the first time, his eyes were matted shut.
Slowly, he freed his eyelashes with one hand, squinting against a soft light that somehow didn't blind him. Hiestantly, he pressed one hand to the soft, wet ground, letting it sink through grains that were white-tan color.
Sand.
His fingers groped at it, letting the particales run through them as he always did when he was in District Four. As he sat himself up, he found himself basking in a beautiful sunlight that warmed both his skin and his soul. The heavy, salty smell of the sea rushed into his lungs, making him feel more whole than he had since he was a young boy. As he got to his feet, he found himself wondering how he'd got there, and where Katniss and the rest of them were.
Where is the war?
And yet, as he slowly padded toward the vast, glittering ocean ahead, he found himself not worrying about it.
The tears were so relieving, but so draining at the same time.
It had been years since he'd allowed himself to cry so freely, without fear. He buried his face in the softest pillow he'd ever experianced the touch of, stretching himself across the large, set-tempature bed that seemed to cradle every part of him with an angel touch. When he'd finished crying tears for all the pain over the years, all the saddness as he realized he was truly gone, his eyes drooped shut once again.
I'm free. I'm finally free.
It was in regular motion, but he never seemed to tire of the swimming, building castles, and daydreaming, just like back in his home.
He missed his Annie, though. Subconsciously, he wondered if his son would be healthy and happy, and if there would be any way to visit him someday. Surely he would back his father proud, even if he never would really meet him. He hoped that he would look like Annie, but reseamble his own striking features; maybe he'd be a ladies man as well.
Either way, he would always be proud from far away.
Of both of them.
Stay strong for me, Annie. I love you so much.
I wonder if you'll be joining me, Katniss.
He half hoped she would. The pain of all he'd been through, of all who loved went through, had been lifted at long last, even if it was from such a young age. She'd been through just as much, just quicker, slightly less tortorous. He knew it would be good for her to be here as well; she'd never seen a pleasent ocean before, being from the mines. Maybe when she went to paradise, he could somehow find her and bring her here. Maybe even offer her a sugarcube and just hang out with her for a while.
I'd love to show you this place, Mockingjay. You'll love it.
Maybe it's not you, Mockingjay. But I think I've found the next best thing. What's her name again?
She was curled in a small, submissive ball, her head resting in her hands. From where she curled, he could see her hands shaking violently, her shoulders trembling with silent- or at least muffled- tears. Even surronding by what appeared to be her perfect home- a beautiful, lush meadow- she was heartbroken, and she was scared. She was no longer the young girl with a careworn, soilder-strong face he'd seen tending to the dying.
She was a scared little girl, just as terrified as she'd been at the Reaping.
Lily? Evening? Primross? No, Primrose.
Prim.
"Primrose Everdeen."
Her wide, teary blue eyes drifted up to meet his gaze, "W-who...?"
"Don't tell me you don't remember me," he had to grin teasingly, kneeling down to her level and reaching to touch her shoulder, "who can forget me?"
"...Finnick Odair," she finally concluded, voice soft, timid, and shy.
"There you go," he grinned a little wider, resting his hand on her trembling shoulder, "now you're getting it. You're Katniss' little sister, right? The little healer girl from District Thirteen."
"And you're one of the youngest Victors of the Hunger Games," she studied his face carefully, "Katniss' friend, too."
"Well, aren't you observant?"
Letting his hand slide down her thin, slightly shaking arm, he clasped his fingers around hers, half inviting her to take his in return. When she did, he just smiled serenly, pulling her to her feet and steadying her with the other hand when she stumbled backwards a little.
"Come on. I want to show you something."
It's so beautiful.
Her eyes shown brighter than the stars as she dipped her toes into the foaming ocean water, squeaking a tad when it washes over them, seeming to make them disappear. She felt two, strong arms wrap around her, lifting her body upward and making her toes reappear, just skimming the top of the water.
"Come on," he whispered coaxingly in her ear, soothingly, "you trust me, don't you?"
Slowly, she wrapped her fingers around one of his arms, trying to smile as reassuringly as she could, "Of course I do."
Nothing can hurt me anymore, anyway...it's beautiful, too.
When she breathed out again, it came out in several surprised bubbles. Even as the water poured into her lungs, making them tingle in alarm, she didn't feel anything close to pain. Sighing out slowly, she began walking further out, the water seeming to cradle her, guiding her alone. The world was in aqua-blue, brilliant colors, inspiring her to bounce a bit on her heels, spinning once. The bubbles swirled through her fingers and her hair, which did it for her; she began giggling furiously. Brilliant blue-green eyes appeared in front of her, playfully twinkling with humor. She simply grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck and allowing him to stand back up, flipping back his bronze hair and laughing as she giggled.
"You're silly," she managed, making him smirk lightly and kiss the top of her head in brotherly-kind of way.
"It's my middle name," he replied teasingly.
She's happy and safe, Katniss. I just wish I could show you.
Sand.
Where is the war?
I'm free. I'm finally free.
Stay strong for me, Annie. I love you so, so much.
I wonder if you'll be joining me, Katniss.
I'd love to show you this place, Mockingjay. You'll love it.
Maybe it's not you, Mockingjay. But I think I've found the next best thing. What's her name again?
Lily? Evening? Primross? No, Primrose.
Prim.
It's so beautiful.
Nothing can hurt me anymore, anyway...it's beautiful, too.
She's happy and safe, Katniss. I just wish I could show you.
As two of the people she'd grown to love to most thought these things, she heard them. As she curled up on the bed, her knees pulled to her chest and her usual braid a total mess, she heard their whispered voices from where they played far away in paradise. Slowly, her seven-year-old daughter, Primrue, gazed up to her mother from where she was silently entering her parents' room. She knew about the Games and why her mother sometimes broke down so terribly like this; it both scared her and made her want to help tremdously.
"Mommy?"
"I can hear them..." Katniss' voice was soft and hoarse as her daughter climbed beside her, wrapping her arms around her comforting, "I can here Prim and Finnick."
"I'm sure they're looking out for you now, Mommy," Primrue soothed best she could, stroking the side of her parent's face, "they love you, just like Daddy and Cinna and I."
"He's looking after her..." the broken women just buried her face in her daughter's hair, "he's looking after my Primrose...and she's looking after him."
Thank goodness.
"You heard them?"
Annie's brown eyes were wider than usual. Something faint glittered in her normally blank, internally haunting, milky gaze; it shown like the hope always present in a pair of youthful, bright blue eyes Katniss missed seeing every day she woke up, the ones who belonged to her deceased sibling. That meant hope, and even promise- Katniss knew she remembered, even for deeper meaning because nobody could forget. The crazy girl's dead husband was happy and safe, and he was even talking to one of her best friend somehow.
To her, that meant that, when she heard his voice, it wasn't just the insanity taunting her.
"I hear him too," she hugged their three-year-old son closer to his chest, her hand trembling as she held the phone in her free hand, "do you hear that, Finn? Daddy's still with us...somehow."
The youth didn't understand, but both shattered Victors were filled with hope; it was mixed with pain, sorrow, and lonliness, but it was still burning, piercingly beautiful in a haunting way. It was the haunting reality of lost love, and the echoing loss of the ones whom they'd both held so close to their hearts. Both deceased loved ones meant more to their mourners than they did to themselves, and yet, knowing they were safe and sound brought relief to the constant, lingering pain.
To the two scarred, broken women, it was a perfect torture.
"I miss them."
Even if they were in paradise, Primrose still missed her older sister. She missed the chilly blanket of winters in the Seam and the intense summers, the warmth and protection of her gaurdian, the soothing lullabies to scare away the nightmares. She missed milking Lady, stroking Buttercup's beautiful-to-her fur, and healing those who needed it most. She missed plaiting her mother's hair, smiling at those who's joy was lost in the coal and dust, and singing traditional songs to herself when she was sad.
And she wondered, too.
She wondered where her father could be, and if she'd get to see him again again. She wondered if Katniss was still healthy, if she was still happy, and if Peeta was still good to her. She wondered about her mother, but she also wondered about Annie and Finnick's son. She wondered if they were surrving, if Johanna ever changed, and if Gale ever blamed himself for what happened to her.
The thirteen-year-old blonde longed to satisfy her bursts of lonliness, her curiousity, and set others' souls at ease. Just as she'd always done. Somehow, however, she was still happy.
"I do too, kid," Finnick agreed softly from where he was sitting, gazing at the sunset with her sitting in his lap, his fingers playing with her long, beautiful blonde hair, "but we'll see them again someday."
"Part of me wants to wait, but part of me doesn't," she sounded conflicted, her voice soft and a little guilty.
"...So do I."
There were nightmares in perfection.
He woke up when she screamed out. Her eyes were clenched and her fists were pummeling, face twisted in terror. He scooped her off of her bed, taking her in his lap and stroking her hair once again. As he did so, he couldn't help but wish he could do this to his son, or to his daughter with Annie close by. Even so, he was glad he could still be strong for someone who was strong inwardly, yet so innocent and weak.
Even in death, he found a comforting importance.
"Finnick..." she whispered, latching on his neck and burying her face in his chest.
"Shhh," he simply soothed.
Deep in the meadow,
Under the window...
As his voice, deep and cleanly melting into the air in a low harmony that rang new to her senses, sending her down back into her peaceful dreams, paradise fell silent it seemed.
That's right, little one. Just hush...you're safe now.
Forever.
I promise.
"Just hush..." Annie whispered to young Finn, "you're safe now."
He wasn't yet and she knew it. But with the ghostly remainder of her beloeved Finnick, his voice seeming to coach her as well as another, she found herself believing her coo herself for a while.
Somehow, it was true.
Forever.
Just hush.
You're safe now.
She broke many promises, is what this croon reminded her. But it also reminded her of her lovely little sister, and of she herself help hope before. It reminded her emotions she still carried this hope, and that as she began singing along with Finnick's voice echoing in her head to her own crying son, Cinna, he was soothed, just as her sister always was. She wasn't sure if her hope would always burn for youth like her children, or if it would last when she died, but she knew it was still there.
You're safe now.
I promise.
The most beautiful thing, though, was not that he was assuring both the Everdeen sisters with the truth.
It was that he couldn't break that promise.
And he wouldn't.
