(A/N): Something I've been working on for awhile. How I imagined Annie finding out that Finnick had died. (And honestly I needed a break from Clove and Cato. Love them but I wanted to focus on something more sorrowful rather than bloody.)


In dreams I pull the sea-weed o'er,
And find a face not his,
And hope another tide will be
More pitying than this.
The wind turns; the tide turns:
They take what hope there is.

My life goes on as thine would go
With all its sweetness spilled:
My God! why should one heart of two
Beat on, when one is stilled?
Through heart-wreck or home-wreck
Thy happy sparrows build.

Though boats go down, men build anew,
Whatever winds may blow;
If blight be in the wheat one year,
We trust again, and sow,
Though grief comes, and changes
The sunshine into snow

Some have their dead, where sweet and soon,
The summer bloom and go;
The sea withholds my dead, - I walk
The bar when tides are low,
And wonder the grave-grass
Can have the heart to grow.

- In the Sea, Hiram Rich

The dim light of the room illuminates the fair face of the girl who stands on her toes leaning in toward it. Her eyelashes cast gray shadows that sprawl across blushing cheeks and beneath her soft lips she hums a song from home about a siren singing a drowning man to sleep. When her thin lids flutter open they reveal a pair of eyes as green as the ocean that still maintain a translucent quality – much like sea glass. And with this she begins to move her slender limbs in a fluid motion. She dances across the room they share together because today she is happy.

Today, Annie Cresta is happy.

As a matter of fact she has been happy for many days now.

She twirls with grace and while she does, she thinks of him. He loves to watch her dance but he especially loves to see her happy. And he is so good at making her happy. So often he will keep away the black fog of fears and terrors that torments her every day, even if only for a little while.

But as of late the fog has been nonexistent.

Since she found him again they would spend quiet moments together wrapped in each other's embrace. He would touch her cheek, her brow, her neck, her lips – all of her, with graceful fingers. She would run her small hands again and again through the locks of his beautiful hair the color of ancient coin and over the smooth skin of his well sculpted face. He would hold her in his arms or plant small kisses down her belly which in turn would make her giggle with delight.

Her Finnick.

Even without him at her side, she still feels the warmth only he can bring to her. She basks in it like the sun.

When he told her he was going away for a little while, she was nervous and frightened. The dark fog loamed overhead. But he took her face into his hands and breathed that it would only be a small while and that when he came back they would be able to swim again in the clear blue waters of their home district. He whispered to her promises of warm nights on sail boats and the beautiful fishes she adored and kisses and kisses for the wife he adored. He promised her the rest of their lives together, never to be separated again.

Annie Cresta heard a secret today. It was whispered between two women dressed in gray. And it said all the people who left are going to come back. It said her Finnick would come back. How she had missed him so.

Tomorrow they will go home together as a family. He is her family. He is all she has left, but he is also all she needs.

Even though she slept alone for the past few nights, she still felt his arms wrap around her, blocking off the bad dreams just as they always did. He keeps his Annie safe.

Her quick hands run through the long soft tresses of her earthen hair as she stands before the mirror but they keep getting tangled. Not like when Finnick's hands run through her hair. The tangles would always slip away as if he had been running his fingers through the water. She closes her eyes and can almost see him the last night they laid together, when she had raised her head to find her home in his eyes. She always felt so safe looking into them, so assured. As if somewhere in those bright orbs the constant haze clouding her vision could be cleared. And in them she can see into his mind, see his emotions and his thoughts or his unease if any was there. His eyes always betrayed everything to her.

Johanna Mason opens the large wooden door that serves as a barrier between the place they made theirs and the gray sunken faces of District 13. Though truthfully Annie has no quarrel with District 13 – they provided a safe haven for her and Finnick. The other districts- even their beloved sea district, were of constant subject to Snow's wickedness. As victors this applied even more so to Annie and Finnick- they had played in the Hunger Games, they had watched their families crumble beneath their presidents fingers. It was because of Snow that Annie had lost more than just her mother, she lost herself. Even years after the games her hallucinations never went away. Finnick kept his worst burden with Snow a secret, though Annie knew of bits and pieces. But because of 13, Finnick and Annie were able to be free. They were able to get married which was something Finnick could have never done in their home district because of his ties to the Capital.

"Annie," Johanna says. "You're going to have to pack so we can leave this place for a while. The war is over. We won."

Annie stays where she stands before the mirror staring into it with wide eyes, not registering. She had never fully acknowledged that there was a war. Her mind, weak from years of torment, had trouble grasping something so large and painful. It was a looming presence, but she had thought of it so little since her rescue that the words have no meaning to her now, except for one thing.

"Finnick?" she questions. "Where is Finnick?"

For a moment Johanna feels as though she is about to break. She can't lie to Annie and she curses Coin for ordering her to do so. In her mind's eye she sees the stunning man whom over the years had become the closest thing to a friend she had after Snow obliterated all of hers. But of course before it all fell down he had to take away just one more, she thinks.

She lost her friend and poor terrified Annie lost the very last thing she had.

What would he want her to do? What would he want her to tell his beloved Annie right now at this moment? She wishes she could ask him. She wishes even more that she could bring him back. But she can't, just as she can't bring back any of the people she had lost over the years.

Johanna decides Finnick would want her to protect the girl. Protect his Annie just as he did.

However before she can ponder another thought, one of the two soldiers with orders to escort Annie and Johanna away from 13 answers for her.

"We have strict instructions to take you two to the Capitol. That's all I can tell you," he says carefully.

Annie sways like a willow. Just as a wave breaks over a rock, fear over takes her small body. The happiness she had felt is completely gone. Her white hands fly to her ears and she squeezes her eyes shut. She is humming but it isn't a tune anymore. Now it is one direct constant note that attempts to drown out the memories. If she keeps her ears covered, she won't hear them. If she keeps her eyes shut, she won't see them.

But she does see them.

First she hears the screams of the first few children she saw die, they're bloodied hands still hanging in the air. She sees the axe as it broke through the flesh of her partner's neck, the muscles of his throat bright red with veins and severed skin like the uplifted roots of a tree. She sees her own hands covered in blood. She sees herself falling into the palms of demons under the ground as they laugh and laugh and pierce straight through her soul. She sees things that had never happened, things that weren't real. She sees the snow white of the peacekeepers that lumber like giants as they haul her onto their shoulders. She sees dear Peeta thrashing his head back and forth as men force needles into his arms. She sees Johanna being electrocuted in a tub of water.

They want to take her back to that place. That awful, awful place.

She needs Finnick. She needs Finnick here now.

Watching her, Johanna suddenly hates the soldier. Then she hates more than just the soldier- she hates Snow. She hates Snow. Even more so she hates the whole God damn world that allows monsters like Snow to exist.

Johanna moves slowly about the room and grabs some of Annie's things. Just clothes and things she will need. The soldiers look to each other, unsure of what to do with Annie who now sobs and rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet. But Johanna throws Annie's bag over her own back then places her hands over the ones plastered to her ears.

Leaning her forehead against Annie's she whispers, "I'm right here and the Capitol is safe now. Not like you remember it. I just need you to trust me, okay?"

"Johanna," she manages to croak. "Where's Finnick?"

"I'll tell you later," Johanna says softly.

Placing her hands on her back she leads Annie away from the room she once shared with the husband who clearly loved her so much; the husband who Johanna could remember seeing break down with worry years ago as he watched the tribute he had begun to fall in love with play in the Hunger Games. The husband who allowed altered painted women to buy his body to keep his sweet love at home safe. The husband who she had watched during the Quarter Quell curl into a ball from the agony of hearing the Capital-altered screams of the only woman in this world he truly and utterly depended on.

Once they are in the hall the soldiers instantly latch down onto her frail arms which causes her such fright she begins to whimper. Johanna fights the urge to tell them to stop, to let go – because she knows Annie would take flight and hide in some closet somewhere if they did. But Johanna doesn't blame her for it. Annie is good at hiding and if Johanna could find places to hide from the terrors life had brought her, she would do it too.

Annie continues to hold her head, continues to hum. She only stops to frantically ask for Finnick but the party remains silent. And each time she asks she becomes more and more panicked. By the time they reach the craft Annie is hysterical.

Johanna watches as the pupils of her light eyes dilate and flick from face to face while she is strapped to one of the chairs in the craft.

"Anne, it's okay," she says. Though it is a lie. Nothing is okay. Nothing will ever be okay.

"Finnick," is all Annie says in response. Then again. "Finnick."

She isn't asking anymore. She is demanding; demanding for an answer, demanding for an explanation, just something- because she might be mad, or so they say, but she isn't stupid. By now she must know something is wrong. She must know there is a reason they are ignoring her questions of Finnick. There is a part of Johanna that snarls, one she often tries to keep down deep, a monster of sorts.

Did anyone protect you? It asks her. Did they try to ease you into the agony when absolutely everyone was taken from you? Did they?

No they didn't.

Annie is continuing but now rather than demand, she pleads. Johanna wants to shake her. She wants to scream in her face, she wants her to understand that they are all just animals ensnared in this world and they will bleed and die a million times over before their hearts actually stop beating. She is suddenly very angry with the girl because her pale fingers won't stop shaking. And because her eyes are nearly bulging from their sockets. And because she doesn't understand, she just doesn't understand.

Again she sees Finnick she asks him what to do. But she demises the stupid thought. Finnick is dead. He's completely gone. Not even his body will be found. Maybe just bits and pieces in the sewers of the Captial. She painstakingly wishes that they could be in the ocean instead, in the ocean he grew up in. Not beneath the ground of the city he hated.

So when Johanna says the words her voice is pained; pain for Finnick, pain for Annie, pain for all of the people she too had lost in her life that at one point she thought she was stronger from losing but she now knows she has only become weaker. She speaks loudly even though she knows Annie would still hear her even if she had spoken in a whisper.

"Annie he's dead." Because she is angry she repeats it again and again. He's dead. He's dead. He's dead.

And then she hates herself.

In one defeating motion Annie's hands fly to her ears again but this time it looks as if she is in physical pain. Her mouth is clamped shut, her cheeks puff out slightly. She hums so loudly she is screaming with her pink lips sealed. Tears begin to spill over her cheeks. Snot dribbles from her round nose.

When Annie understands those words, she hates them. She hates them. She could never say she truly hated anything but she hates those words.

Inside she is breaking. She feels her world crumbling around her and she can't bear to open her eyes to see it or uncover her ears to hear it. An empty hole is threatening to take her over and if it does she isn't sure if there will be anything left of her. She will fall away into the darkness and never return to this world again. She will be completely lost. Once, Finnick was able to bring pull her to reality when she had fallen into the darkness years ago, but without him she cannot stay on her own. Without him, she doesn't want to.

She sees the sea green of his beautiful eyes. She sees the corners of his mouth dimple as he laughs. She sees his smile. She sees his strong hands covering her own; hands that can protect her with force but can also tie ropes into the most intricate knots with ease. She sees him as he submerges from the water of their home, droplets rolling down his board shoulders and across golden skin. She sees him with his back to the docks, beckoning her to come near. She sees the wind ruffling his bronze hair. She sees him on their wedding day; bringing two of his fingers dipped in saltwater to her lips. She sees him lying beside her bathed in only the light of the moon. She sees every sight of him she can remember.

She sees it all turn to ash.

And then the horror threatens to dawn on her; that there may be a void she can never cross to find him again and she is alone.

She tries to keep it at bay. She tries to hold on. But already he is falling away from her.

Every touch he had once graced upon her body slides away from her skin; his soft lips upon her neck and across her collar bone, his hands as they trail down her spine and make circles around her stomach, the warmth of his torso on the inner flesh of her thighs, his fingertips on her nose, his long arm hung across her shoulders.

Every sound she had ever heard him make dissipates into nothing; every thought, every promise, every dream, every whisper he had spoken in his beautiful, beautiful voice. Every grunt, every sigh, every breath. His laughter, oh how she loved the sound of his laughter.

But if the words are true it's gone forever.

Everything.

She lies! Johanna is lying to her! How could she do this? They had told her this before. In the Capitol while they tortured her, they hissed words of his death. But he was alive. He is still alive now, and waiting for her. She will see him again, she will hear his laughter again, she will feel his warmth again. She wants to be wrapped in his arms. She wants so desperately to submerge into the confines of his body. She wants the smell of him, the natural aroma she has come to know so well. Not the one of various colognes and perfumes from the Capitol. But the one he produces on his own, the one that belongs to only him, the one that has always calmed her down even when she had to close her eyes.

He wouldn't leave her. He would never leave her. These people, Johanna, are all bad. They want to kill her. They want to kill Finnick. She can't run, she can't hide, so she only cries for him. She screams his name and it shreds the air with its terrible irony. It mocks her as it rings through her ears.

Because deep down she knows. Oh how she knows. She knows, she knows, she knows.

Johanna sits across from her but they are miles apart. The soldiers threaten to sedate her but Johanna shakes her head. Annie will stop. She isn't one to fight. When she sees all is lost she will hide from reality, make sure it can never find her and remind her of the ugly truth.

Coin will be angry with her for telling the girl but she doesn't care. Why does it matter when they told her? Destroy her now, destroy her later, ether way they would still destroy her.

She wonders what shall become of the girl. Then she wonders what shall become of herself.

But she doesn't know and there is no reliable source to answer. Time isn't trust worthy. The past cannot speak for the future. The elements and the earth can only provide a simple promise but that doesn't come till after death.

Maybe they are all alone. Every particle floats through the wind unaccompanied and unaided, without direction or cause.

As she watches Annie crumble into nothing, she is sure this is the case.