Prologue
"Come on, come on, breathe dammit!" Katniss whispers harshly as she continues the chest compressions. Despite the panic constricting her chest, her movements remain precise and steady. She can't afford to break down yet. If she caves to her emotions, she'll lose him.
"You are not going to die like this! Not now," she gasps, breathe hitching on a sob. "You promised! You promised. You can't leave me. Please. Please live. You can't leave me."
Still he lays there, unmoving on the jungle floor, his beautiful bronze hair slightly singed from a collision with the force field which encloses the arena of the 75th Annual Hunger Games. Distantly she notes that death suites him, his face relaxed and peaceful in a way it never was in life, not even when he slept. His eyes remain closed, and despair grips her at the thought of never seeing his deep green orbs light up with laughter or darken in desire again. Abruptly, a wave of grief and anger overwhelm her, and she brings her fist down hard over his heart.
Finnick shoots awake, gasping for air before rolling weakly onto his side and coughing harshly. Moaning slightly, he rasps, "Why do I feel like I just died?"
"You did just die!" Katniss responds hysterically. "You walked straight into the force field! You weren't breathing; I couldn't—"
"I walked into the force field? That's how I almost went out?" He questions, a dismayed look on his face. "How anticlimactic."
"Finnick!" She yells, steal grey eyes somehow managing to flash threateningly despite the tears rolling down her cheeks. "Stop it. Stop joking. You almost died," she finishes with a choked whisper.
"And you saved me," he replies solemnly. Then a mischievous look crosses his face, and with an air of nonchalance that Katniss can tell he doesn't truly feel, he tips his head back to stare up at the leafy canopy hanging over them and comments, "Shame I wasn't awake for the mouth-to-mouth part of it though. Hate to have missed that." He grins slyly and glances at her out of the corner of his eye. "Perhaps a repeat? Just to make sure I'm actually breathing right of course."
"Ridiculous man!" Katniss exclaims with a shaky laugh before leaning down to gently press her lips to his. How Finnick can still sound charming when he is wheezing around a sternum that is at the very least deeply bruised, Katniss will never understand. She supposes she should give him extra points for still managing to look attractive when half of his hair is burnt though. "Stay alive. You made me a promise, and you're damn well going to keep it."
Pulling away slightly, Finnick releases a low chuckle that vibrates through her body and mumbles a soft "yes mam" against her lips.
They have a revolution to launch, a rebellion they have been covertly working towards for nearly a decade. The first spark of the uprising had been lit eight years ago when Katniss had volunteered to save her then twelve-year-old sister Prim, and it had ignited into a raging inferno when little twelve-year-old Rue from District Eleven sacrificed herself to guarantee Peeta Melark's victory last year in the 74th Hunger Games.
Nearly a decade ago Finnick had stood beside her on a balcony overlooking the president's rose garden and promised her that they would bring the capitol to its knees, that they would kill President Snow and end the tyranny. Now, they are finally ready. They just have to survive this Quarter Quell until they are rescued by their District Thirteen allies, and ensure that when that hovercraft comes, Peeta Mellark escapes with them.
Disclaimer: The Hunger Games series and all recognizable characters are the intellectual property of Suzanne Collins. This statement stands for this entire story.
