A/N: Second Hunger Games fanfic and first attempt at Finnick POV. Go easy on me, haha. I wrote this when I was really, really tired. If you see any mistakes that I didn't catch when editing, please just send me a PM with the mistake. Okay, read on.

Disclaimer: My name is Emma. Not Suzanne Collins. Not mine!

Theme 9: Insanity

Finnick POV

I'd done everything possible. I'd prepared them to their fullest extent for these Games . . . right? It is only up to them. I can do nothing else besides hope that one of them would win. My head dips down as I listen to my inner thoughts. I'm not hoping for either one of these tributes to win. I'm hoping for Annie. But is that right? I should be rooting on both.

Annie . . . the name sends a thrill through my body. She is absolutely the most beautiful and caring girl I have ever met in my life. And when I saw her name called out to become a tribute, I had practically run up and strangled the announcer. I had nearly gotten on my knees and begged District 4 to have mercy on the poor girl. To have someone, anyone volunteer to replace her. She didn't deserve to die. Not at all.

But did she deserve to live through the Games either? I'm forever a slave of the Capitol, all because I won the Hunger Games. What an incredible feat that was! Or so I thought. In fact, we all seemed better off dead once our names are called out to be tributes. I couldn't let Annie go through the terrors of becoming a victor.

But I am selfish. I always have been, always will. Even one glance at the "miraculous Finnick Odair" tells everyone I'm full of myself, just like Capitol residents. I want Annie to live. I want her to survive and have to suffer through whatever the Capitol forces on her. I want her to stay alive . . . and be forever with me.

Claudius Templesmith's voice booms from the television, "Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventieth Hunger Games begin!"

All twenty-four tributes are rushing and fighting each other, wanting to get every weapon possible from the Cornucopia. Blood starts spewing left and right, cries of anguish filling the arena. Mags, who has been holding my hand since the start of the Games, squeezes it hard when Caspian approaches Annie. Will he do what we asked? Will he stay in alliance with Annie?

Annie squeaks, trying to look away from all the blood and Caspian runs up to her. Her face looks relieved before he murmurs something in her ear and she nods before heading a good mile away. Caspian runs off to where the other tributes are fighting. Two stabs from a District 1 boy and the tributes of District 12 are dead. The cannon thunders twice and the boy smiles evilly. It's a shame. The District 12 tributes are always killed first; I was even the one tribute to kill them off in my own Games.

I close my eyes and let the memory erase itself before continuing to watch. The cameras are still covering the bloody battle in front of the Cornucopia, expecting more deaths. I look at Mags who is shaking her head. I know exactly what she was thinking. All these children, some even twelve or thirteen, were dying so young. And they weren't even having a peaceful death, just a terrible murder from another peer.

Though why should I be the one thinking about it like this? I was the one who ruthlessly stabbed everyone through the heart, not even blinking an eye.

The Games continued, and the total of deaths at the Cornucopia reached 8. Soon, the crazed kids started to disperse, letting the cameras explore for all the remaining sixteen tributes. I sit up when the TV shows Annie and Caspian sitting together with the Careers, planning their strategies. I sigh in relief. They followed my orders.

"Any last advice?" Annie asks with real fear in her eyes.

"Just stick with Caspian," I murmur, "he'll protect you. And get on the Careers' good side. I'm not sure they'll find you as important—and I don't mean any offence by that. They are just looking for people who like to gorge other kids' eyeballs out of their skulls. You're not that vicious."

Annie smiles weakly, gazing deeply into my eyes. I study her sea green orbs like they were the last thing I'd ever see. They were so gentle, so caring, so fearful . . . they were Annie. And hopefully I'd get the chance to see them once more in a few weeks.

"I'm rooting for you," I whisper almost inaudibly. Annie shakes her head, looking down.

"Don't," she mutters. "You'll just get disappointed."

I shake my head, but I don't argue. I'm not sure what to say. I've seen the other tributes. How big they are. How strong they are. Annie is just a small girl. How will she survive?

Without warning, Annie pulls my head down to her level and presses her lips firmly against mine. I jolt for a second, shocked at what she is doing, before kissing her back. I put my arms around her and pull her close, kissing her soft lips over and over again. The heat and passion that runs through my body is like nothing I've ever felt before. This isn't just lust, it's love.

"Annie—you should—get going," I say between kisses. She gives me one more heartfelt kiss before pulling away.

"Okay," she whimpers and starts to head toward the metal plate where she will be transported to the arena. I grab her hand and give it a squeeze. Her green eyes find mine again, full of terror.

"Stay alive for me, okay?" I say quietly.

Annie opens and closes her mouth several times before nodding, her eyes welling with tears. She runs onto the platform and is soon lifted up into the horrifying arena.

The smile that had formed on my mouth fades when I notice Annie's eyes. They aren't what they used to be. They're aged, almost. Something about them is . . . off. She looks lightly crazed, terrified. Like a caged animal. What were the Games doing to her?

Caspian awkwardly tries to make small talk with her, but she stays silent. The only movement she makes is to tuck herself into the fetal position, her eyes bothered.

"What do you think we should eat?" Caspian asks, looking worriedly at his ally. All she does is shrug, her eyes far away. The other Careers are now shooting strange looks at Annie. "Here. Eat some crackers. They look tasty."

Annie nibbles lightly on the cracker, but soon falls asleep with the cracker forgotten. The broadcast stops and we are all free to go to bed.

I don't sleep well tonight. I toss and turn with nightmares about Annie getting killed in her sleep. Daylight eventually comes, and I am up at the crack of dawn.

The rest of the Games continue on without too much drama. Well, at least for Annie. She is supplied with a weapon—a sword, because that was the only one she knew how to use—and is protected and well-fed by Caspian. We are soon down to the final eight, and I am being interviewed. None of the questions really stick in my mind, except one.

"Now, let's be honest, Finnick," Claudius Templesmith says. "Out of your two tributes who are still alive, who do you think is most-likely to win?"

Of course I know the answer. Caspian. He's strong, he's mighty, he grabs attention, and he knows how to survive.

"Well, that's easy," I start off before pausing. Was it really that easy? Annie did have a good chance as well, even if she was having something different going on with her mind. She was strong, fast, and a good swimmer. Everything a District 4 tribute needed. The only issue was that she was a smaller girl, and her strange behavior is costing her sponsors. But if she were struggling, I'd convince the sponsors to fork out some money and help her. "My choice . . . is Annie. She may seem small and cowardly, but she's got the heart of a victor."

My interview time is up, and I leave the room with Claudius and, soon, all of Panem completely shocked.

Annie screams as a girl sneaks up behind her and Caspian. They had been sent by the Careers to scout out an area to let all their food and supplies rest.

"Caspian! Run!" Annie shrieks and Caspian turns around too late, and is beheaded by the girl.

I flinch at the sight and Mags starts to sob gently. The cannon blasts, signifying that Caspian is dead.

Annie's a complete mess, screaming as loud as possible. Tears are streaming down her face and she is shaking so violently from shock, horror, and crying. She slashes her sword wildly at the girl, scraping the girl's skin all over. Soon, another cannon blasts and Annie drops her sword, running as far away as she can from the scene.

The cameras follow her as she sprints, tripping and crying violently. Soon, she breaks down into a full-on psychotic episode. Her screams fill the air as she pounds on the ground, rips up roots from trees, kicks up dust. She starts ripping her hair out and thrashing around wildly.

"She's lost it," Mags whispers and I can't believe what I am seeing. I don't want to believe it. How could the Capitol be so cruel and cause such a young girl to go insane?

Annie eventually calms down and curls up into a little ball, her tears still pour and she rocks herself into a restless sleep.

Annie's nearly lost all her sponsors now, thanks to that girl who killed Caspian. I have to practically get on my knees and ask them to support her, to spare some money to give her some food. I tell them that she can kill definitely, just watch how she killed that girl! Some of them are convinced, and I'm able to feed Annie once a day.

Annie eats it, but doesn't seem to taste anything. She's moved a bit, just to a better hiding place. Other than that, she just stays in the fetal position, rocking back and forth. Her mind is beyond repair, I can tell. She needs me to be there. To help her. To protect her. But there's nothing I can do.

The beginning of the third week of the Hunger Games started with a bang. The Gamemakers sent a giant flood throughout the entire arena, and all the tributes practically drowned or killed each other in the water. Annie swam like she was born to, avoiding the bodies and blood. She was calmer than usual, but her face was horrified. It was down to her and the boy from District 3.

"Come on, Annie," I whisper. "You can do it. Just keep swimming. He's starting to struggle."

Soon enough the boy can't move his arms and sinks to the ground, drowning. The cannon fired and trumpets sounded.

Claudius announces in a surprised voice, "Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Seventieth Hunger Games, Annie Cresta! I give you—the tribute of District Four!"

Annie is . . . insane. There's no other way to put it. She screams and flails around. She won't stop shouting for Caspian to run. She doesn't recognize anyone. Her mind has blocked everything out. She refuses to eat and respond. She won't do anything. We can't present her to the Capitol like this. But there's nothing we can do. I want to help her, just to make the Capitol not feel like it did some sort of justice by causing Annie to act this way.

"Annie," I say quietly, standing in the doorway of her hospital room.

She whimpers a reply, refusing to make eye contact with me and then giggling.

"Annie, do you know who I am?" This causes her to laugh even more. I take it was a good sign and move toward her. She shrieks, her entire other mood forgotten and starts fighting against her restraints before a sedative is shot into her bloodstream from the tube she has in her forearm.

As she sinks into unconsciousness, I brush her hair away from her brow.

"Please remember me, Annie," I whisper as she closes her eyes. "Try to remember all of us. We can help you."

Annie is starting to remember her past life, and will actually talk to me. We spend a few hours each day talking, but I know the real Annie is still buried deep inside the psychotic Annie. She doesn't sound the same, and she'll speak of strange things. She'll talk to her father and convince herself I'm a cat. Other times—the times I think she's improving—have her crying and reliving memories of her Games. She'll ask me questions about her life and what she did to survive the Hunger Games.

Annie's even let off her restraints when she starts to have less severe psychotic episodes. We continue to talk and help Annie remember her life. Really, I was just trying to prepare her to go to the Capitol and be crowned victor (the Capitol had taken pity on Annie and postponed the event to make sure she seemed perfect when she appeared on television). I wasn't sure how she'd react to seeing her Hunger Games once more.

My prediction was right. Annie did not like watching the recap of her Hunger Games whatsoever and went completely berserk about five minutes in. I had to drag her into her room and help her calm down.

"Shh, it's alright, sweet, sweet Annie," I whisper as I rock her back and forth in my lap. She is still crying from all the memories. "You don't have to go back out there and watch it. I'll stay here and protect you instead. I'm so sorry . . ."

"Make it stop," Annie whispers finally, her terrified eyes pleading for my help. They were finally unclouded; finally a bit of Annie was peaking through. "Please . . . just please kill me."

"No, I can't kill you, Annie," I whisper, keeping my voice at the same pitch hers is. I brush her hair away from her brow and gently kiss her nose.

"But . . . it hurts." Her sobs shatter my heart as I continue caressing her face, hoping to soothe her.

"What hurts, sweetheart?"

"Being . . . insane . . . it hurts," Annie explains, tears spilling out of her eyes. Her breathing starts accelerating and I know I'm losing her.

"Well, I'll try to make it better, alright?" I murmur, trying to transfer my serenity to her. It doesn't seem to be working, but she's staying tied down to the earth. For now. "I'll help you, even if I die doing so."

The second I say those words, I want to take them back. You weren't supposed to mention the word 'die' to Annie. Not unless you wanted her to go back into her insanity.

"NO!" Annie shrieks and I know I've lost her. To my surprise, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. When she opens them, I see that she's still with me. "No. I need you here. With me. Forever. You can't die."

"You're right," I comfort her. Annie seems to have lost her sense of reality, because she almost grins. She believes that I can live forever with her. "I'll never die, because you don't want me to. And I'll never leave your side, Annie. Never."

Annie shudders a bit before smiling and gazing off into some spot only she could see. Her stare starts to glaze over and I know the chord that had been keeping her tied to this earth had snapped, sending her drifting off once more into her insanity.

A/N: Probably one of the longer one-shots I've written. Yeah, that's all I have to say here. Review?