Sohey, I was at a beach in a country that does not know the true meaning of winter the way us Canadians do during winter break, and of course I would have the song Summer Paradise by Simple Plan and this plot fluff running through my head. Der. So I say this is broken Finnick/Annie because Finnick is dead and cannot complete them. *sobs* (You should review because that is the nice thing to do in the middle of winter. *nods eagerly*)
The ocean steals everything
Waves crash on broken rocks. She cries for him, for herself, for them. Green water, green waves crash on broken grey rocks. But even the anger of the ocean can't make up for his green eyes and she keeps crying.
o-o-o
"Congratulations, Annie. It's going to be a boy!" The doctor bustles into the room - white walls, wide windows, blue sky - and announces that she won't be alone without Finnick. She smiles, wide, happy, and tells everyone: "He's going to have his father's eyes."
o-o-o
She stumbles across the broken rocks and shells on the small stretch of beach. The ocean is demure right now, lapping sweetly at the shore. Blue water, blue waves. Finnick's name, over and over in the sand. But then the tide picks up and takes him, takes his name. She writes it again - again - again - but the water keeps taking him - taking him - taking him.
No, no, no, she insists, scratching his name into the sand and hoping it will last forever. Yes, yes, yes, the ocean retorts and steals him from her. But she knows it's a game, and she's won before, and she's going to keep playing because she needs him.
So she keeps writing his name in the sand, feverishly, and the water keeps stealing him. Over and over, gone and gone, and then there are arms around her and a voice crooning that it will be okay but it won't be, it won't be, it won't be.
She notices that it's raining.
o-o-o
She sits on the dock, wooden brown, wooden strong. Blue water, blue waves. But there aren't any waves because there isn't any wind and oh, she misses him so much.
She tries to get up but her stomach is swollen and she needs help. But she won't ask for any, so she keeps sitting there, missing him, and waiting for someone to come.
o-o-o
He's going to have his father's eyes. He's going to have his father's eyes. He's going to have his father's eyes.
It's her mantra; she tells everyone it's true. He's going to have his father's eyes. He won't be his father's son, he won't be her son, if he doesn't have his father's eyes.
o-o-o
Oh, oh, oh. It tears up and down her body, clawing at her, screaming at her. She's been invaded and oh, why won't it go away? She screams back at it and tastes metallic blood in her mouth. Red, black, brown. Red blood - hers? - blue eyes - hers? - brown eyes - whose?
o-o-o
White room, wide windows, blue sky. She's tired - so tired - and the doctor wearing white hands her a tiny bundle. "Congratulations, Annie!"
Open your eyes, she croons at her baby. Let me see your father's green eyes.
He opens his eyes, that tiny wrinkled red baby, and his eyes are brown.
The room is silent and so is she. But only for a second or five. "This is not my baby."
o-o-o
This is not her baby. This is not Finnick's baby. He does not have his father's eyes. His eyes aren't green. They are not Finnick-green. This is not her baby. This is not her baby.
o-o-o
But they are all convinced that it is her baby.
o-o-o
He's crying, that imposter of her baby, crying so loud it is shattering her eardrums. Shut up! she yells at him, screams at him. Shut up, shut up, shut up! You aren't my baby! You aren't Finnick's baby! And then she's sobbing too.
o-o-o
She stands on the shore, willing the ocean to take her away too. Grey water, grey waves. Angry, like her. Take me, take me away to Finnick, she pleads with the ocean. But the water doesn't listen to her and she pushes the imposter baby in instead. He opens his brown eyes, alarmed at the sudden freezing wet and shrieks loud, loud, piercing loud. Footsteps run and voices shout and the imposter baby is pulled out of the water, fast, fast, fast.
Two days later, he is back with her and looks at her reproachfully with his brown eyes.
But you aren't my baby, she replies.
o-o-o
She writes Finnick's name in the sand and hopes it will last forever.
o-o-o
Years pass and waves crash and the imposter baby gets older, taller, quieter. He's seven, she thinks, and follows her to the beach and writes Finnick's name in the sand with her. She lets him. Even if he isn't Finnick's son, he can help her write his name.
o-o-o
"No, no, you can't!" she slaps his fingers away from Finnick's precious name. "Don't touch it!" He's confused and continues tracing letters into the sand. She slaps his face, echoing red bruise, and he starts to cry.
She keeps writing Finnick's name.
o-o-o
Waves keep crashing and the ocean keeps stealing Finnick away from her.
o-o-o
He's fourteen, she thinks, and doesn't talk. He keeps the house clean and makes sure that she is fed and tidy, and leaves the house as soon as he can. So does she.
o-o-o
He's sixteen, she thinks, and spends most of his time by the broken grey rocks. She can see him from the beach, while the ocean steals Finnick.
o-o-o
She drifts into the market one day, bright colours, smiling voices, the smell of fish, and fingers the green yarn. It's not as green as Finnick's eyes, but nothing is. She turns around and sees him with his arms around a girl with blonde hair. She's laughing and so is he, and suddenly it's Finnick holding her and she's laughing and everything is okay.
But then she opens her eyes again, and it's just him with his arm around a girl with blonde hair who is laughing.
o-o-o
She sits on the dock, wooden brown, wooden strong. Green water, green waves. Salty wind caresses her face and he sits down beside her. He doesn't have a jacket on. She frowns and pulls a hat - knitted green that isn't as green as Finnick's eyes - and pulls it over his brown hair. She moves his hair away from his brown eyes that look like her own and studies his face.
It occurs to her that he has his father's smile.
