AN: Just to let you guys know, sometimes I will not update for weeks at a time. Things are really picking up at this time of year for school and our drama performance, so I may not get as much time to write. I don't really have a specific idea as to where this story is going, so right now I'm winging it. That is usually how most of my stories are haha. All mistakes are my own. I also finished about 3/4 of this chapter in one night because I had some good old inspiration hit me. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games or any of it's characters.
I was surprised to find out that not all of the people who "bought" me always wanted to have sex. Some just wanted to see me, some wanted to brag to their friends about them getting to spend personal time with me, and some actually wanted to sit and talk with me about important matters. Not all capitol people were bad, they were just curious.
Finnick and I realized that we couldn't keep rescheduling, so we did kiss our clients for awhile until one of us came in and knocked them out. We wanted the clients to remember at least something happened between us. I still was extremely uncomfortable with having a stranger kiss and grope me. Finnick continued to forge names and send the letters to Snow and everything seemed to be running smoothly.
It wasn't until about two weeks after we arrived that we got a letter from President Snow saying that within a few days time, we would be able to see Peeta and Annie. They weren't free yet, but at least we could see them. The night we got that letter was the only night that neither of us had nightmares. Finnick and I seemed to be growing closer as friends. We were able to open up more about our nightmares and the things that haunted us daily. It was actually nice to have someone you could lean on and trust in your time of need.
I still tried to keep in contact with Prim, Gale, and Haymitch. We would send letters, which both Finnick and I were both sure were checked by Capitol officials, but most of them probably didn't get sent. The letters we did receive back were always filled with words of encouragement. Prim usually wrote about her continuing training to become a doctor and the progress of some of the patients in the hospital. She never mentioned our mother and for that I was both grateful and worried. Gale always updated me on the happenings in District 13. I was lucky if I received a letter from Haymitch not complaining about his lack of alcohol.
As we were going through our letters, I let my mind wander back to my first client meeting. I remember Finnick said something about picking up some things in the Capitol since he's been there since the age of fourteen or fifteen. Would it hurt to ask? I chewed my lip in nervousness. Would this be the question that shatters our friendship? Is this too personal a question to ask him? I decided that I might as well ask.
I took a deep breath in before I asked, "Hey Finnick?"
He put down the letter he was reading from Beetee about his trident and responded, "Yeah, Katniss?"
I fiddled with my fingers before I asked carefully, "Would you...would you tell me about your life after the games? While you were in the Capitol?"
He paused for thought for a while, slowly processing what I was asking. I couldn't tell what he was feeling, he had kept his face blank, neutral. He busied himself with putting all of our letters into a box and setting it inside an empty drawer. Finnick then walked over to our little refrigerator in the corner of the room and pulled out an iced tea for me and a bottled water for him. Finally, deciding there was nothing left to do to stall, he walked back over to the bed, handed me my drink, and sat down next to me.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes before he said in a level tone, "I won my games at the age of fourteen. I don't want to go into the details of how I won, it's too painful. After doing all the after-games interviews and such, I went on the Victory Tour. When I was done with the tour, I went back to District Four. I had known Annie before I left for the games, we were good friends. She was the one that helped me pick up the pieces after I came back. At one point, I realized that I was in love with her, that I always had been.
"When I turned fifteen, I got a message from President Snow requesting that I go to the Capitol. I didn't know what he wanted, I thought I was being called back for another interview. When I got there, he told me that I was going to be spending a lot of time in the Capitol. He had me stay with my mother for the first couple of months until I got to go back home. We really didn't do anything in the Capitol. Snow just showed me off to all the other wealthy citizens. I wasn't until I was older did I realize they were keeping track of how I aged and grew. They were checking to see if I was going to grow up to be a 'desirable' victor. They didn't want me to start prostituting at such a young age, either. They have had young victors who were cute that they had forced to start prostituting at a young age only to find out that they didn't stay as desirable for long.
"The capitol made a law saying that victors couldn't be sold until they reached a 'suitable age'. My age was seventeen. My first auction was a private one, filled with only Snow's close companions. As I grew older, I grew more popular with the citizens. I felt disgusting. I felt that I was betraying Annie. One day, I was home with Annie when I got a call to come back to the Capitol. I refused, saying that I was tired of being sold and bought like cattle. And you know what happened?" he asked with tears in his eyes now. Throughout his whole speech, his emotions had been building up to this tearful climax.
I laid my hand comfortingly on his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. I already knew the answer, I could already guess as much, but I also knew that he couldn't bring himself to say it, so I had to. I let him lay his head on my shoulder before I sighed, "Annie was reaped into her games five years after yours. She was eighteen when she was reaped. They had her reaped so you could pay for your disobedience, your refusal. I'm so sorry Fin..."
He sniffled, "Don't be Katniss. After she won her games, she went into her seclusion. Every moment that I was home I spent with her, trying to reach her, trying to draw her out of her shell. It worked every so often, sometimes I would get a small smile, sometimes even a peck on the cheek. But as soon as I was called back to the Capitol, she reverted back to her original state. I knew I couldn't refuse the Capitol twice, so I kept going back dutifully, slowly gaining scandalous secrets. It was when I was reaped for the Quarter Quell that she went almost completely mad. I still love her though, mad or not. I love her...I miss her so much it hurts!"
Finnick began to sob, holding his head in his hands as his body shook with his cries. I rubbed his back in soothing circles as he had often done to me. Finnick was always there for me, it was my turn to be there for him. I reached over towards the nightstand to grab a tissue. I nudged him gently until he raised his head and gratefully took the tissue, rubbing vigorously at his eyes as if to rub away the pain. I took his elbow and gently tugged him towards the pillows. I removed his shoes and tucked him up in bed. I went to the bathroom to wash up and when I came back out, he seemed to already be asleep.
As I climbed into the bed, Finnick automatically stretched his hands out for me to hold like we had been doing for the past couple of weeks. I gripped his hands firmly, vowing to never let go. When we did this, it was our promise to each other to protect one another in sleep. Just as my eyes had begun to droop with exhaustion, Finnick said, "Hey Katniss?"
"Yeah Fin?" I replied groggily.
"Thank you for listening, it was good to get that off my chest," he said, his sea-green eyes boring into mine.
"Anytime Fin."
~o~o~o~
I was off to another appointment with Finnick once again trailing like a shadow behind me. He always waited fifteen minutes outside the residence before he sneaked inside to check and see if I was okay. I always did the same. We had it down to a science practically: we would leave a door unlocked and would make sure that the client did not see us when we entered the house and knocked them out. We hit them hard enough to knock them out for a while, but not hard enough to leave a noticeable bump. If the client wasn't trying to have sex with us, the other would just wait it out in a nearby room or wait outside. Our plan was foolproof.
As I reached the house the appointment was supposed to be at, Finnick ducked beneath a nearby tree, practically invisible in the pale moonlight. I knocked three times at the door and waited for a good five minutes. I was about to turn to leave when a man opened the door. He was in his early to mid twenties and stood about six feet tall. He had black hair with a shock of gold going down the middle of his head. He had a few ear piercings, but other than that he seemed relatively normal compared to the other capitol citizens. He stood there awkwardly, staring at me with a mix of disbelief and shock. It wasn't until I cleared my throat that he snapped out of his revive and opened the door fully to let me in.
"My name is Zane, come," he said in a clipped voice. Wasn't the talkative type, I guess. He reminded me of Thresh, Rue's district partner, the boy of few words. Don't think about them now, you have a job to do. Stay focused!
I swallowed nervously as Zane led me through his small house to his bedroom. The bedroom was simple, it had a king-sized bed with a red comforter, red curtains, and an oak desk. Zane had two tall bookshelves opposite of the bed. The bed itself had a canopy that was midnight blue. The whole room seemed eerie and dark.
I didn't have much time before Zane had me pushed up against the door. His amber eyes bore into mine with an emotion I couldn't place- it was something between desperation and anger. His lips crashed hungrily into mine. His hands wandered roughly around my body, leaving disgusted shivers wherever his slimy fingers touched. He bite and nipped at my lips and grazed his teeth along my bottom lip. Eventually his tongue forced its way into my mouth, I stifled the urge to bite his tongue.
At this time in the appointment, I learned to just detach yourself from your body, to stop feeling anything. Somehow, as Zane slid his hands over my butt and grabbed it with an excessive amount of force, we were moving towards the bed. He now had me pressed up against a bedpost that held up the canopy. His lips found their way down to my neck, tracing their way to my collar bone. His hand traced the bottom of my shirt, sliding his fingers under it to touch my stomach.
"Off. Take it off. Now," he commanded in a pant, removing his hands and taking a step back.
I hesitated. Where is Finnick? Zane could see my hesitation, he gave a frustrated huff, stormed his way over to me, and practically ripped my shirt off, tearing it from the hem up the seam. Now I was only left in my simple black sports bra and my pants. I hoped he wouldn't make me take those off anytime soon. He now stepped up right to me, not touching me at all, but he was mere inches away from my face. His breath was hot against my cheek. His eyes burned with greedy, hungry fire. Then, his eyes clouded over with sheer anger.
"You," he hissed, his fists clenched tight.
"What? What about me?" I asked, genuinely frightened. I backed up as far as I could go, bumping into the bedpost behind me.
"You're the one that started this whole thing. This whole rebellion!" he spat. With that, he raised his hand and before I could register what he was doing, he slapped me hard across the face, snapping my head to the side.
My cheek burned as I clutched it in pain. Zane walked over to his dresser and opened the top drawer. He pulled out a length of orange rope. He stalked back over to me, snatched up both of my wrists in a death grip, and forced them above my head. He tied the rope around the bedpost so tight, my hands almost immediately began to lose circulation. I tried to loosen the rope, but I was only rewarded with rope burn and cuts.
Zane ran his hand through his hair as he paced around the room angrily. He let out a frustrated sigh before he said, "Do you know what this rebellion has done to me? It took away my sister! She ran away for your 'cause', said that she wanted to do something better with her life. She had heard about the uprising in District Eight, so she took off. She was a good healer, she was even studying to become a nurse."
Like Prim...What have I done? Zane walked right up to me and shoved his hand into my throat. With pure fury in his eyes, he whispered threateningly, "And do you know what happened, hmm?" When I gave no response, he continued, "The capitol blew District Eight up. They blew up a hospital! She was in that hospital, there wouldn't be any other place that she would be. Do you know how old she was? She was fifteen! I lost my little sister to a rebellion that you started. And you are going to pay for that, I promise you."
All of a sudden, his fist collided with my face. I let out a groan in pain as my nose started to drip blood. Zane didn't stop there, though. He started to punch and kick every inch of me, screaming horrible words at me the whole time. His fingers gripped my hair as he slammed my head back into the bedpost multiple times. Then he gripped both of his hands tightly around my neck and started to cut off my air supply slowly. I cried out, begging me to stop, but I knew he wouldn't. He wanted me to suffer. He wanted me to feel his pain.
I couldn't help but think in the back of my mind that I deserved this. I did start the rebellion, even though it was unintetional. People died for me everyday, people died for the cause everyday. Just as I detached myself from the kissing and groping, I detached myself from the beating. With every new kick and punch, with every new horrible name thrown at me, I kept hoping that he would kill me soon. Then he would get the satisfaction and closure of killing the person that indirectly killed his sister and I would end my constant suffering.
But what about Prim? How would she live with your death? I promised to take care of her and protect her. What about Peeta and Finnick and Haymitch and everybody else? What about the rebellion? Katniss, you can't afford to die now. If you are going to die, you are going to die for the rebellion!
I knew I couldn't die, this was a pitiful, sad way to die. I spat out the blood in my mouth in his face and brought my knee up in between his legs hard. He doubled over in pain and I took the chance to scream as loud as I could, "Help! Finnick!". Zane hobbled back over to me as fast as his wounded private area would let him and punched me again in the face. I could already feel a bruise form on my temple. He then balled up my discarded shirt and shoved it in my mouth, silencing me.
"No one can save you now, girl on fire," Zane laughed manically.
Off in the other room, I heard a window crash. Next, Finnick sprinted in the room with surprise and worry etched upon his face. As soon as he saw me tied to the bed, beaten and bloody, his expression turned to one of pure fiery fury. Zane whipped around, surprised, and tried to throw a punch at Finnick, but he was quick and easily blocked it. Finnick jabbed Zane in the ribs, causing him to double over. Finnick then picked Zane up by the waist and slammed him down on the floor onto his back. Zane tried to get up, but Finnick kicked him down. He then wrapped his arm around Zane's neck and put him in a sleeper hold until he fell unconscious.
Finnick picked up Zane and threw him into his closet, shutting the door. He then rushed over to me and untied my restraints and gently removed my torn up shirt from my mouth. I slumped into his body, to weak and in pain to hold myself up. Finnick scooped me up gently and sat with me in his lap on the bed, rocking me gently back and forth.
"Oh Katniss, I'm so sorry! I can't believe he did that to you! Oh Katniss, I am so sorry!" Finnick cried in guilt.
"Finnick, it's okay, you don't need to be sorry," I cooed gently but weakly.
"Katniss, it is my fault! An officer came by and started asking why I was out there, I tried to get away, I did! If only I hid better, then I wouldn't have been seen and I could have stopped this and-"
"FINNICK!" I interrupted. "At least you came when you did, so thank you," I raised my hand and stroked his cheek soothingly, brushing some of his fallen hair out of his face. "Now can you take me back to the hotel? I'm a little spent." I meant it as a joke to lighten the mood.
It worked, he gave a nervous chuckle. He kissed the top of my head before he put me carefully down on the bed. He found a shirt to cover me up and keep me warm from one of the drawers. He was a little uncomfortable with putting it on me, but after it was on he took off his jacket and laid it around my shoulders. Then, he picked me up like I was a delicate flower that would break if a big enough wind came around, positioning me in his arms bridal style.
He carried me all the way back to our hotel room through the streets of the Capitol. When we got to the hotel he placed my gingerly down upon the bed. Finnick frantically searched around the bathroom for medical supplies and towels. By the time he came back out, my eyes were starting to droop with exhaustion and pain. Every part of me hurt. His green eyes studied me with worry apparent in his features. He stroked a stray piece of hair out of my face and tucked it behind my ear.
To my surprise, he started to sing. It was a comforting lullaby, one that I didn't know but wouldn't mind learning. His voice was soothing and lulled me into sleep, a sleep that beckoned me with open arms. As I drifted off into a painless sleep, I realized that I was safe. I knew that I would always be safe as long as Finnick was there. I was always going to be safe when the people I loved and trusted were there. Unfortunately, I could not say the same for them. Everywhere I went I brought destruction and pain. Why? Because that's what fire does. And the girl on fire is no exception to that.
