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"He's in the Capitol."
The nurses grabbed Annie as soon as she began to scream. They pinned her down while she sobbed, forced the needle of morphling into her arm, and there was nothing she could do as the numbness seeped into her veins, pulled her down into a dark, dreamless ocean.
She woke blinking into the same dim hospital lights. The ache in her body had dulled, and a druggy fog lingered in her mind. It took her a moment to remember where she was, what had happened to her, the last words she'd heard before she'd lost control.
"He's in the Capitol."
Finnick was in the Capitol. She had to do something. She tried to sit up. She couldn't move. The needles and wires that had encased her arms before were gone, and in their place were nylon straps anchoring her to the bed.
Panic raced up Annie's throat. She struggled to pull her wrists free, but the straps only seemed to tighten against her skin. Her ankles were bound. The room was empty, shrinking all around her. She couldn't escape, she couldn't breathe.
Annie let out a startled cry when the door opened. A stranger stepped into the room, and for a moment he only looked at her as she struggled against her restraints, gasping for air. He finally glanced down at the clipboard in his hand before he spoke,
"Annie Cresta? I'm Dr. Aurelius, I'm here for your assessment."
"Let me go!" she demanded, unable to keep her voice from shaking. She jerked against her restraints, and she could feel the nylon cutting into her skin.
The doctor settled into the seat by her bedside, "Take a deep breath, Annie." His voice was slow, soft, as if she might not understand him. "Can you tell me where you are? Do you remember what happened to you?"
Annie knew he was assessing more than her memory. "I-I'm in District 13," she sputtered. "I was in the Quarter Quell and I got out but…" Tears swelled in her eyes, "They took Finnick…"
Dr. Aurelius pursed his lips, "Right now we need to focus on you."
She shook her head as she gulped back a sob, "I ca-can't do this right now, I need to talk to Mags."
He scribbled something on his clipboard before he looked back to her, explaining with the same slow tone, "You've been identified as an at-risk patient, Annie. I'm here to assess you, and if I can clear you, you'll be discharged today. But I can't release you until we're sure you're not a danger to yourself or anyone else."
"I'm not!" she insisted, though her body betrayed her. She was blubbering, twitching, her fear leaking from every pore of her body. "Please," she begged. "I can't do this right now. I promise I'm not crazy, please just let me go, please let me talk to Mags!"
The doctor was scribbling on his clipboard again, a grim expression set in his darkened, exhausted eyes. He didn't believe her. Annie could feel herself panicking, feel the scream building up in the back of her throat.
"Annie," his expression softened as he looked at her, "I want you to try to breathe with me. I need to know that you can soothe yourself."
But she could hardly form words anymore. "M-mags," she stammered, but he shook his head. "You need to do this on your own. Now take a deep breath…" He inhaled, and Annie tried to follow his lead, with little success. Still, he coaxed her on, "Try again. Get that breath and hold onto it."
Finally, Annie managed to gasp in enough air to hold in her lungs. Dr. Aurelius waited for a moment before he told her to exhale, and another moment for her to breath again. Faltering, she managed to mimic his pattern, though she didn't feel any less afraid. By the time he seemed satisfied, her chest was still quivering, and he paused to jot a few more things down in his notebook. She'd failed.
Annie watched him, his writing hidden from her view. "Please don't lock me up," she pleaded, her voice half a whimper.
He sighed, hesitating before he finally spoke, "I've got some questions to ask you, but I think they can wait for another day. For now, I'm writing you a prescription for anti-anxiety medication, and you'll be meeting with me in a few days for a follow-up assessment."
Annie blinked at him, "You're discharging me?"
"For now, yes."
She let out a gasp of relief, "Please untie me."
He leaned forward to loose her from the bed, and she swallowed back the fear in her throat as she finally pulled her limbs free. She was still shaking, still gasping at the air, and she braced her arms against her chest, trying desperately to hide it. She certainly didn't look stable, but the doctor was standing nonetheless.
"Timias is waiting for you outside," the doctor told her as he tucked his clipboard under his arm. "He'll take you to the laundry facilities to get your clothes and your amenities, then he'll show you to your room. Here's a tentative schedule for you. We'll adjust it as needed."
He pushed a folder into her hands, then offered to help her from the bed. Annie stood on her own, and instead he guided her to the door where a stout, silver-haired man waited for them.
"I'll be in touch with you, Annie," Dr. Aurelius promised, and his words made her shudder.
"Thank you," she murmured, avoiding his eyes as she followed after the silver-haired man. He led her wordlessly through District 13, through hallway after hallway, all the same, all filled with stale air and artificial light.
"Why aren't there any windows?" Annie mustered the courage to ask.
The man's answer was gruff, "We're underground."
Her stomach turned, "H-how far underground?"
"Right now? About three hundred feet."
Annie felt the walls closing in again, but before she could panic, the man stopped and opened a door labeled "LAUNDRY."
Inside, dozens of washing and drying machines murmured in the back of the long, bleach-white room. A tall, swarthy woman sat at a front desk typing into a computer. She glanced up as Annie and her escort approached.
"Another newbie?" she asked the man as she looked back to the monitor.
He nodded, and the woman stood to retrieve a canvas bag from a back shelf. She plopped it on the counter before giving Annie a once-over.
"Well, you're definitely a Small," she said as she reached under the counter and retrieved a folded gray jumpsuit. "Go ahead and try it on to be sure." She handed the jumpsuit to Annie and pointed to a curtained off room just behind the desk. Annie shuffled in without question. There was no mirror, only a small bench for her to place her things. She set the jumpsuit down and reluctantly pulled the hospital gown over her head.
Her bare skin prickled as soon it hit the air, and the tension triggered an ache in her side. For the first time, she saw the swollen, pink scar beneath her ribs, a permanent reminder of the wound that would have surely killed her in the arena, had Plutarch Heavensbee not made good on his promises to her. If only he'd made good on the promises he'd made to Finnick…
Annie donned the jumpsuit and stepped out of the dressing room. The starchy fabric felt too tight at her hips and gathered at her ankles, but the laundry woman nodded in approval, "Great. I've got your shoes right here. There's two more suits in the bag. You get a new one each morning, and new sheets every other week. If any clothes are bedding ever get damaged, bring them back here, okay?"
Annie took the boots sitting on the counter and pulled them on in place of her hospital slippers. She turned her gown over to the laundry woman with a half-hearted thank you, the silver-haired man walked her back into the hallway, through another set of twists and turns until they finally arrived at her apartment. He rapped twice on the metal door before he pulled it open, and as soon as Annie got a glimpse inside, she rushed forward with a cry,
"Mags!"
Mags had been sitting on one of the cramped room's two bunks, and she stood just in time to catch Annie in her arms. Annie didn't know whether or not the silver-haired man was still watching her, but she couldn't hold herself together any longer. A sob escaped her lips, and she broke into another fit of trembling. Mags held her tightly, stroked her hair and rocked her back and forth, but she couldn't be consoled. It was all too much—Dr. Aurelius, District 13, Finnick. Finnick. Finnick.
When she could finally speak, there was only one thing she could say:
"They're going to kill him, Mags. Snow's going to kill him…"
