WARNING - EVERDAIR - WARNING
If you're reading past the warning, then enjoy! ;)
"Hold Up"
By Katniss-Odair-the-Mockingjay
Total Word Count: 5,038
Genres: Romance/Friendship
Hold Up: All I wanted was to fix my bank statement, and I certainly never asked to be kidnapped, bound and gagged. Who knew that I would find love because of a bank hold up? Certainly not me...
I grumble, completely annoyed, even though it really isn't Ms. Trinket's fault. I just pretend that it is so that I feel better about myself. She's trying her best to help me sort out an issue with my bank statement so I ought to feel better, considering I won't have to worry about it later, but I can't. All I can think of is that I could be catching up on sleep on this nice, happy Saturday, but I'm in this stuffy bank instead after a week of teaching a bunch of middle school kids that completely butcher music, the passion of my life.
"Is that fine with you, Miss Everdeen?" Effie Trinket asks.
"Yeah, sure, fine, whatever," I shrug, trying to get this over and done with. "I don't care. Let me sign whatever you want."
Ms. Trinket raises a brow. "Are you sure that you don't want to read the paperwork first?"
Groaning, I shake my head. "No, I'm fine – I honestly don't care." I sign the paper hastily, shoving them back in Ms. Trinket's hands and walking out of the consulting cubicle quickly. "Thanks," I say as I head to the front of the bank once more where people are depositing and withdrawing money from little screens.
Walking toward the door, I almost get bulldozed by a group of people wearing black ski masks. What… Is… Going… On… Last time I checked, today isn't Halloween or anything.
A man with broad shoulders, a slim frame, and toned muscles presses a gun to my head, and I hear something click as my breath catches at the back of my throat.
These guys move quickly; another man goes, waving his gun around and demanding people's wallets. There are so many of them, and I, along with the rest of the people in the bank, find myself to be helpless. The man at my side takes my arm roughly, the gun never leaving the side of my head.
The leader of the group, holding a bag of wallets and money, begins to walk out the front door again. He speaks with a husky voice that can't be his regular one, "Take the girl; she'll be our insurance. We'll split up and meet at the point."
The man that's detaining me gives a firm nod before glancing at me for a second. I can see that his eyes are a beautiful sea green color, and he just drags me along with his gun in hand. "C'mon," he commands roughly.
I'm mesmerized by his eyes that I don't realize that I'm essentially being kidnapped. An older man tries to reach out to me before another of those masked men smacks him with a gun. My eyes widen with horror, snapping back to reality as the old man sinks to the floor on his knees. I'm terrified as I'm blindfolded and thrown in a car or vehicle.
I desperately try to get the blindfold off my eyes before a man comes and ties my hands too. "Listen to me," he says gruffly. "I'm sorry for taking you, but we're going to have to go. We need you as insurance."
"I heard that," I reply bitterly. "But I didn't ask for this. All I wanted was to fix my messed up bank statement, not be a part of a bank hold up organized by a bunch of guys wearing masks and carrying guns."
The man chuckles dryly. "Well, sorry about that, kitten. Looks like you're stuck with us for a while now."
"Don't call me that," I snap back.
"Gee, kitten. You can retract your claws now," the man seems amused at me.
I growl at the back of my throat, imagining his beautiful sea green eyes. "Just leave me alone." I command, letting resentment slip into my tone.
"Well, alright, kitten," the man says, and I imagine him shrugging at me. All I can see is black, and I'm engulfed in the darkness. It terrifies me; I've always enjoyed being in control, and my control has been stripped away from me. I'm now at the mercy of this terrifying man with a mask and the most beautiful sea green eyes I've ever seen.
We sit in the car in icy silence as we drive. There's no one else with us, if I'm guessing correctly. The leader had told the man driving me to take me to the point; he had also said that they were splitting up. Did that mean they were splitting up the money too to meet up again later? Or was the money all in one place?
Thinking and musing to myself, I try to come up with a good reason as to why this is happening, especially to me. What have I even done? Why is it me? I'm just a middle school music teacher who's struggling to make ends meet while getting her master's degree. Either way, I have to figure out a way to get out of here. I'm sitting shotgun so it'll be hard to try to untangle those knots that tie my hands together behind my back since he can see me. There's nothing I can do about my blindfold either. Looks like I'm stuck.
As though he read my mind, the man chuckles. "Sorry, kitty. You won't get very far trying to undo those knots. Considering the fact that I tied them, it'll be pretty much impossible. I'm a whiz when it comes to knots – The ones I used on you are some I made up recently, and even the boss can't untie 'em."
"Where are you taking me?" I question through gritted teeth, shifting in my seat.
"You'll see, I suppose – Or maybe you won't. I may not be able to take off your blindfold, but maybe I will," the man replies.
"Do you have a name?" I question.
The man laughs; it's strong and hearty – it's almost comforting to a degree and reminds me of my father's laugh. "Of course I have a name, kitten. You just don't need to know it."
"What if I want to know it?" I retort.
"Well, kitten, I guess you'll just have to go without," the man chuckles.
"Fine, fish boy," I respond, shrugging in my seat. Thank God he hadn't put a gag on me. I would have been annoyed.
"What'd you call me?" the man asks, laughing. He finds this amusing? Well, I suppose he would. I'm just a joke to him.
Forgetting that he can't see me, I roll my eyes. "Fish boy."
"Do I look like a fish to you?" he questions.
I then find myself rolling my eyes again, this time at his obvious lack of intellect. "Can you remember that I can't see you? I'm wearing a freaking blindfold. Besides, when you were holding a gun to my head, you were wearing a ski mask. You probably are now too."
"You're pretty perceptive, aren't you, kitten?" fish boy responds.
"That's what I've been told," I shrug, leaning against the door. My wrists are beginning to feel sore and chaffed. Great.
The man clears his throat, and I can hear him drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. I've discovered that my senses have been sharpened with the loss of my sight. "Listen, kitten. We're gonna be making a stop pretty soon."
"Have we gotten to the point yet?" I question dryly.
"Not yet, kitty," fish boy replies. "But we're gonna be making a stop anyways. You promise you won't scream when we do? Because I don't want to have to gag you too if I don't have to. You're pretty good company, and these heists can be extremely lonely, believe it or not."
"I'm sure," I reply; I can't stop that bitterness from tainting my words either.
Fish boy sighs, "Will you keep it down?" he asks.
"Fine, fine, fine," I say quickly. I won't let that dude put a gag on me either. I want my right to speak even though fish boy has temporarily taken my ability to see.
I hear the car door open. "Alright, kitty. I'm gonna be right back."
Sitting alone in my darkness, I find myself waiting impatiently for fish boy to get back in the car, hating the silence that has taken over again. I hum softly to myself the song I'm trying to teach one of my 7th and 8th grade choruses. It's called "The Hanging Tree." I have to admit – it's a bit dark to be teaching to a bunch of thirteen and fourteen year olds, but I choose to do it because it has a haunting melody that's really beautiful with harmony.
The car door opens again after about ten minutes. "Sorry, kitten. I just had to take a few more precautions."
"What'd you do?" I question.
"I'm kinda not supposed to say," fish boy responds.
I grumble.
"Fine, fine, fine," he says. "I guess since you stayed silent the whole time I can count on you not spilling anything. I was switching our license plate with someone else's. I also got a decent stash back there, but I wanted to get a new one just to be safe."
"You were switching the license plate of this car?" I question flatly.
"Yup," fish boy responds. "That's the life of a criminal like me, kitty. The life of someone who has no other choice. This is just what I have to do – listen to the boss and be a criminal. I know you must hate us, but not all of us are trying to be evil. It's just what we have to do to put food on the table or protect our families."
"Which is it then?" I question. "Are you doing it to put food on the table or to protect your family?"
The man's voice darkens. "I don't want to talk about this anymore, kitten."
"Then can you put on the radio?" I ask, not wanting to get him upset at me.
"What?"
"Put on the radio," I repeat.
"Why?"
What is wrong with him? Music is everything. "Because music is everything," I respond.
Fish boy chuckles wryly. "No, it isn't. Music isn't gonna put food on your table. Music isn't gonna protect your family. Music is just about as good as a rainbow or some hair bows. At least rainbows give you tips about the weather."
My heart nearly stops. "No! Music is something that can help you deal with your problems. Music makes me feel happy and relaxed."
"Listen, kitty, music isn't gonna make your life better. It's just music. Music isn't anything important," he snaps.
"Then if it isn't important, why don't you put it on? It won't mess up your little robbery scheme so I might as well get a little bit of happiness before you thieves throw me in a cellar for the rest of my life," I retort, glaring at him, even though he can't see it through my blindfold. I just imagine he can – it gives me satisfaction."
Fish boy snorts. "Well, you don't have a pretty nice picture of us so far."
"How can I? I've only seen you guys when you were robbing a bunch of innocent people at a bank," I respond. "And what did you guys do? Oh, yeah – You kidnapped a twenty four year old music teacher, and some other guy knocked out an old man with his gun. Then you practically scared a bunch of people to death while taking their life savings."
Fish boy is silent for a bit before speaking again. "You're a music teacher?"
"Yes," I respond, exasperated.
He doesn't answer back. I just hear a song begin playing softly on the car speakers. There are some nice guitar riffs and some nice vocals, but it's not superb or anything. It'll do, though. I tap my foot to the rhythm and hum along with the main melody.
"You're smiling," fish boy comments. "It's nice seeing you without your scowl."
That immediately places my frown on my face once more.
"OK, OK, I'm sorry," fish boy apologizes quickly. "Don't ruin it."
I ignore him and continue to sway slightly in my seat to the song, keeping time and continuing my humming. "Music is everything."
Fish boy snorts again but doesn't reply. He just continues driving, and the air is no longer filled with that awkward silence. Now, it's filled with melodies and instruments and my humming – just the way I like it.
"My name's Finnick," he says finally during a pause between songs.
I turn toward the sound of his voice and smile a bit. "I'm Katniss."
"I would say that it's a pleasure to meet you, but I'm afraid I can't under these unfortunate circumstances," Finnick chuckles.
"Ditto," I reply, laughing a bit as well. I've gotten more comfortable with fish boy over the past few hours. I mean, as comfortable as I can get considering my situation. He's nice enough, letting me listen to the radio as much as I want and making conversation during songs I don't like.
"You're not that bad, Katniss, you know that, right?" Finnick states, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. I notice that he does that during traffic, when he's nervous, or when there's a red light. We've been on the highway for a decent amount of time and have been making pretty good time, at least from what he's said.
I roll my eyes but chuckle anyways. "You're not all that bad yourself, Finnick. Are we almost there yet?"
"You wish," Finnick laughs.
I'm getting so sick of this blindfold, and fish boy can sense that. It seems as though he can feel exactly what I'm feeling exactly when I'm feeling it. "I guess it'll be OK for me to take your blindfold off now. I've taken off my ski mask."
"Well, hurry up already!" I snap impatiently.
Finnick's laughter rumbles throughout the car. He finds my impatience funny. I don't understand why, though. "Alrighty, kitten. Let me just pull up at the side of the highway and risk getting a ticket."
"No! Don't pull over!" I find myself saying. Wait – why? I want to be rescued, right? This man kidnapped me. He just helped rob a bank. He's a criminal. But I know that he won't hurt me. I don't know why, but I trust him. He won't let me get hurt by anyone. Am I getting Stockholm syndrome? What's going through my crazy mind?
"Well, I'll just do it with one hand then. I don't want you to have to wear that stupid thing the whole time. Besides, we're already out of District Four. No one will be able to guess who we are now." Finnick reaches over and expertly unties my blindfold, letting it fall to my lap.
Temporarily blinded, my eyes are instantly taken aback at how much light there is in the car. "Oh gosh," I say, blinking repeatedly in hopes of getting my eyes back to normal.
"You alright, kitten?" he asks, sounding genuinely concerned.
I glance over at him and readjust myself in my seat. "Uh, yeah. I'm fine, Finnick." I look around and see that we're nowhere near District Four anymore. There are pine trees everywhere, very different from the regular palm trees that dot the landscape of District Four. There are no sparkling beaches in the distance with white sand and gorgeous turquoise water. Instead, there are numerous trees that make up vast forests.
Endless forests – we're in District Twelve now.
"If you say so, Katniss," Finnick shrugs, his eyes now staring pointedly at the road.
"I do say so," I say firmly. I take the opportunity to take in the features of my kidnapper. He has those amazing sea green eyes and amazing tousled bronze hair. He has an easygoing vibe about him, and his eyes are firmly trained on the road ahead of us. His tan, combined with his eyes and hair, makes him look like a surfer from Four, and I realize that he can't be that much older than me.
He shoots me a grin, noticing my staring. "You alright, kitty Katniss?"
Rolling my eyes, I nod my head. He can see my annoyance now without the blindfold, and it only serves to make him laugh even more. "I'm fine, fish boy Finn," I respond.
He doesn't respond immediately as we get off the highway and turn onto a gravel road. It really shouldn't even be called a road. It's more like a path with gravel and dirt. We're heading away from any civilizations and going toward a hidden grove of some sort. "We're almost there," he says. "I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to put your blindfold back on pretty soon."
"I know," I sigh. My hands, legs, and feet have literally fallen asleep during this ride, and it's become dark during the time we've been traveling. I glance at the clock in the car. It reads seven o'clock PM. WHAT?! I was at the bank at around eight this morning. Did it really take us that long to get here?
"I had to take us on some detours," Finnick explains, as though reading my mind. I'm practically convinced that he can, actually.
"Oh," I say. "Are you going to put my blindfold back on?"
Finnick nods. "I'm sorry, Katniss. I wish that I didn't have to do this."
Sighing, I nod as well. "I know. I may not understand completely why you have to do this, but I know that you don't want to do this. I understand, Finnick. I just want to go home soon." I gaze into his sea green eyes for what I think will be the last time, I swallow.
Pausing in the middle of the bumpy gravel path, Finnick places the blindfold back over my eyes, submerging me in the darkness once more. "I'm sorry, Katniss."
"It's not your fault, Finnick," I respond bravely. I don't want to, but I feel something for Finnick. I'm not sure what it is, but I do know that he shouldn't have to go through this. He obviously doesn't want to be a criminal or a robber. It's just his lot in life – I don't know how, but it's clear that he's definitely had a hard time growing up.
"You're something else, kitten," Finnick says, and I imagine him shaking his head comically.
The music is turned up a little bit; Finnick had lowered it a bit while we were talking, but now we both don't want to be drowning in the silence.
Eventually, after about another hour of driving, we stop abruptly. "Finnick?" I question. Beginning to panic, I try to mentally reach out to Finnick somehow.
A hand is placed on my shoulder, and Finnick removes my blindfold. "It's going to be OK, Katniss. I promise. I'm going to remove those knots as soon as I get you out of the car." He gets out of the car and walks around to my side, opening the door. Helping me out of the car, he makes sure that I'm alright, examining me carefully before beginning work on the knots that make up my restraints.
Eventually, they're untied, and I can roll my chaffed wrists; stretching my arms, I don't allow myself to relax. Despite my inner being, I trust Finnick, but I don't trust his cronies.
Taking my hands in his own, Finnick inspects my hands, searching my eyes for any signs of pain. "Are you OK, Katniss?" his voice sounds sweet and secure.
"I will be as soon as I can get back home," I reply.
"I'm so sorry, Katniss," Finnick says again, his voice cracking.
"Finnick!" a female voice calls. "Where in Panem are you?!"
Finnick immediately snaps alert and drops my hands. "Johanna?!"
"Finnick! Gosh, it took you forever to get here!" a female walks out of a cabin I never noticed before and swaggers over to where Finnick and I stand near the car.
Crushing "Johanna" in a hug, Finnick's face lights up in a smile. "Well, I have a pretty feisty kitten with me, don't I?" he grins at me.
It's odd, almost as though he's treating me like a friend.
"And you're the insurance," Johanna says bitterly. "I'm sorry. Snow's a freaking idiot."
"Johanna!" Finnick hisses, looking at her pointedly, although he doesn't seem shocked. "If the boss hears you…"
"Gosh, I could care less about what the boss says," Johanna throws her head back and laughs. "What's your name?" she asks, turning to glance at me.
"Katniss," I answer.
She nods, "I'm Johanna. Once again, I'm sorry you got brought into this whole mess."
I chuckle a bit, "You and me both."
Taking my elbow, Finnick steers me toward the cabin Johanna stepped out of. "Let's get you inside, and hopefully everyone will leave you alone."
Once I'm inside and seated on a bunk, Johanna pulls Finnick to the side. I can't hear everything, although I strain to hear. "Bad news… Money… Leave… Snow… Authorities…" It doesn't sound good; I suddenly find myself worrying for Finnick, Johanna, and myself. I find myself drawn to them, even though I keep warning myself that it'll only be worse for me if I become close or attached to them.
Finnick's face pales, blanching. "We… Her… Back… Sick and tired… Go…"
I place my head in my hands, becoming worried. This is not how my Saturday was supposed to go. What if people don't realize I'm missing until Monday when I should be back in school? I suddenly find myself missing those annoying middle school kids that make a mockery of music. I miss them so much. I miss my apartment building, and I miss my best friend, Gale. He's probably going crazy looking for me if he's heard the news already.
Drowning in my thoughts, I don't realize that Finnick's standing right next to me until he clears his throat. "Listen, kitty; Jo and I think that now's our chance. You've provided us with the opportunity to clear our names of Snow's 'business.' You're giving us the chance to escape from his clutches."
I raise a brow but wait for him to continue.
"Katniss," he says seriously, "We're going to get you out of here, and we may have to go to Jo's old district, District Seven, for a while until it's safe."
I shake my head quickly. That won't work. "No, I have to go home. My best friend, Gale, will be looking for me. He's the only family I have left. He keeps me sane. And I teach. I can't miss teaching my students. I need to go home, Finnick. I can't go to District Seven."
"But we may have no choice, Katniss. There are people who are loyal to Snow. They're probably searching for us now since we're not at the point. Katniss, I'm trying to protect you. You're different from everyone else I've ever met. You're not the first person I've had to take as insurance, and I can assure you that not everyone is as fiery as you in a situation such as your own. Please, let me save you from Snow," he pleads. "If we're recaptured, it's the end. Snow will end your life."
"Over a robbery?" I question skeptically.
"Yes," Finnick nods. "I'm doing this to protect my family, Katniss. And Johanna's family is gone, killed by Snow. She still has no choice. Haymitch has gotten my family out of Snow's way right now, and we have to take advantage of this opportunity. Please, Katniss," he takes my face in his hands gently. "Please…"
Screwing my eyes shut, I make another decision – for Finnick, for Johanna, for Finnick's family, for Gale, and for myself. "Alright, Finnick," I say, "I trust you."
"And I trust you too," he says. He nods at Johanna, "Let's go."
Johanna walks outside first, heading toward a car farther into the woods. "This is a beauty that I found at the dump. No one knows it's in my possession either; besides, I changed the license plate too." She tosses the keys at Finnick. "Drive, brother. I want to sleep. Wake me up when we get home, OK?" After Finnick unlocks the doors, she crawls into the backseat and falls asleep straight away. I decide that I like her right then and there.
"Hop in," Finnick opens the door for me and closes it behind me.
"Thanks," I say as soon as he gets in. "Are you going to blindfold me this time?" I question, half-jokingly.
Shaking his head, he puts the keys in the ignition. "Nope. We're gonna make it, Katniss. I promise."
"I'll hold you to that," I say.
He moves to turn on the radio, but I stop him, and he looks at me questioningly. "It's OK," I state. "Let's just talk."
"OK," he smiles as we begin our drive through the forest in District Four. "What's your favorite color?" he asks. I shoot him a look, but he just smiles. "You gotta start somewhere, am I right?"
I chuckle, "Green. You?"
"Blue like the ocean; I grew up in District Four like you too, I'm assuming – but it may be changing to gray," he says, keeping his eyes on the road. He seems to know where he's going even though all the trees look completely the same.
"Gray?" I ask. "Why?"
"Because it's the color of your eyes," he answers simply.
I smile a bit before my next question. "Why do you do this?"
His smile wavers, but he responds. "What do you mean?"
"Why do you do this? Why does Johanna do this?" I question.
He explains everything to me briefly, and I don't press for too many details. He started his career as a criminal, not by choice, but because it was forced upon him by a man named Snow. He was kidnapped by some henchmen of Snow and ordered to begin stealing and performing some robberies and heists on a small scale a few years back. He couldn't fight back because Snow threatened him, using Finnick's dad, mom, and little brother.
Something similar happened to Johanna as well, but her family was actually killed. Even without any sort of real leverage, Snow still forces her to work for him to this day. This past year, Snow has ordered for Finnick to do a lot of larger scale jobs, and he's had no choice but to obey. What happened today was one of those larger scale jobs, and Cato, the leader of the group robbing the bank, commanded Finnick to be in charge of grabbing someone for insurance. He happened to be standing close to me so, naturally, he pointed the gun to my head and not someone else's.
"Finnick, I'm sorry this happened to you," I say softly.
Finnick just shakes his head. "I'm an Odair. I'm strong. But let's not dwell on this or what happened today. So, you said that you're a music teacher, right?"
I nod. "I teach at a middle school close by; I'm in charge of chorus, and I help with keyboard every once in a while if my colleague needs some extra help."
"That sounds really nice. I don't know what I would have done if I actually finished college," Finnick says. "I had delayed going to college for a few years after high school, went for about two years, and then found myself working for Snow. By then, it was too late to finish."
"What was your major?" I question.
Sighing, Finnick answers, albeit reluctantly. "Music."
I pause. "What?" I'm not sure if I heard him accurately.
"Music," Finnick repeats. "I studied music for two years before having my dreams torn down by Snow. You're right, Katniss – Music is everything. But ever since I started working for Snow, I couldn't bear listening to the radio or playing it on my phone or singing or playing my guitar. I refused to have anything to do with music ever again. You've literally brought music back into my life, kitty. I've listened to more music today than I have in the past five years."
Somehow, a smile lights up my face. "I'm glad."
We arrive at District Seven, and a man is there waiting for us. Finnick introduces him as Haymitch; he seems like a rather rough and surly man, a bottle ever present in his hands. Either way, he's polite most of the time, and Finnick loves him like another father so I love him too, even though he calls me "sweetheart" and taunts me a lot.
Johanna is up and at 'em, yelling at a number of different people. She's waving her hands very animatedly even though it's around midnight now, and most people are half asleep.
I know I am; Finnick escorts me to my room and tucks me in gently before leaving to go to his own room next door.
"'Night, Finnick," I call before he leaves the room.
"Good night, Katniss," he says. "I promise; Snow won't find us. And if he does, then I'll protect you with my life."
"I know you will," I answer before drifting off to sleep.
We sit together; I sing, and he plays his guitar and harmonizes. By the time the last chord is played, I'm curled up by his side, smiling contentedly. We're Odairs, and we're strong.
"Thank you for saving me, Katniss," he says.
"No, fish boy," I cut in. "You saved me – You saved me from Snow even though you kidnapped me in the first place."
Finnick chuckles. "Well, that fact makes things sound kinda stupid, doesn't it?"
"Either way, you helped give my music meaning," I respond, burying my face into his chest.
"I love you so much, Katniss," he says, wrapping his arms around me tightly.
I eye the glint on my left hand with a smile. "I love you too, Finnick." And I know, that without that dangerous bank robbery, I wouldn't be where I am now –
Home.
And what does home mean?
Home means safe and sound. Home means warmth. Home means security. Home means love. Home means music. But most of all, home means Finnick, and that's fine by me.
Hey everyone! OK, so this is kinda odd for me because I'm posting to the Hunger Games fandom, not the Legend of Zelda fandom... But I love the Hunger Games, and I'm a huge Everlark or Everdair fan... (MY OTP IS EVERDAIR!) I just think that Katniss and Finnick are great for each other without Peeta and Annie; seriously, if Peeta and Annie weren't there, Everdair would be canon. They're so much alike (yet so different) and so good for each other)...
But, yeah... This is going to be a 100 Everdair one-shots challenge - I hope this storyline made sense; I was trying to cram a lot in with so few words... This could seriously be a full-length fic... Anyways, I'll be accepting requests, but so far, I already have quite a few fics pre-written. ^^ Look at me all proud...
By the way, updates are gonna be SUPER erratic now that I'm in two fandoms at once... O_O
Please favorite/follow because I'll be super grateful, and if you feel so inclined, please do drop a review (NO FLAMES) down below - it makes my day ^^ Seriously, though - REQUESTS ARE ACCEPTED! ;) Just had to make sure... ^^ Thanks for reading! LOVE! and *smiles* :D
~Elsie {Katniss}