AN: Here's the next chapter, as promised! This one was tough to write, especially at the end. It's not particularly cheerful. But don't worry, I have it all planned out. :)

Fear was an emotion that Finnick was extremely familiar with. After all, he had survived the Hunger Games. Anyone who had survived the Hunger Games was inevitably going to be well acquainted with fear. As if that wasn't enough, Finnick had received threats from President Snow himself and been forced to sell his body to complete strangers on a regular basis. He had thought he knew what fear was, until today.

Finnick felt that he could compete in a thousand Hunger Games and not even come close to feeling as sickened with terror as he did right now. Annie was in the Capitol. The Capitol had taken Annie. Because of him. Because of his stupid, stupid mistake.

They're hurting her. They've got to be hurting her to get back at me and it's my fault, it's all my fault…Annie, I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…

Those were the only coherent thoughts that Finnick could form as the train he had caught from District 4 sped through Panem. He could only sit in his seat, frozen with horror, clenching and unclenching his fists in a futile effort to keep his hands busy. It wasn't a long ride to the Capitol, especially by train, but every second that ticked by felt like an eternity. Every minute that passed was another minute that those wretched people could be torturing Annie, and there was nothing, nothing, nothing he could do.

He hardly registered the train's arrival at Capitol Station. He was barely aware of his own feet moving to carry him off the train and onto the platform. He knew where he had to go. There had been no address printed on the note, no instructions as to what to do when he got here, but he knew. Before he could stop himself, he was dodging people left and right as he sprinted through the train station and out into Capitol Square. Once he was outside, he made a beeline for the president's mansion.

XxXxXxX

Finnick realized that he probably looked like a madman, having run through traffic and nearly knocked over some unsuspecting pedestrians on his frantic journey from the train station to Snow's mansion. The fact that he was now standing on the grandly decorated doorstep, practically breaking down the gold-plated door after having breezed by the security guards at the front gate, wasn't helping matters. He would stand here all day if he had to. He had to find Annie. He had to.

If there was anything at that moment that could have made Finnick freeze in his tracks, however, it was President Snow himself coming to the door to greet him, and that was exactly what happened. Finnick stood, rooted to the spot, his hand still held in the air like he was winding up for another pound on the door. Snow surveyed him carefully—his windswept hair, red face, and wild, panicked eyes—before crossing his arms over his chest and giving just a hint of a smirk.

"Mr. Odair," he said coolly. "How kind of you to join us."

Finnick gulped, slowly lowering his hand. "Us…?" he asked weakly.

"Oh, yes, indeed." Snow's snakelike eyes stared into Finnick's worried green ones. "Miss Cresta is most anxious to see you. Allow me to lead you to my private study."

Feeling like someone had filled his shoes with lead, Finnick forced himself to take one shaky step after another until he was inside the grandiose mansion. There didn't seem to be anyone else around, which struck him as odd: the last time he had been here, there had been a number of brightly colored maids and butchers milling around the many floors of the house.

He didn't dare ask any questions or make any more noise than was necessary. He couldn't even look at Snow. He could only follow him robotically up the magnificent spiral staircase, wanting to know what he would find up in the study and yet feeling terrified of what it might be. Please, please, don't hurt her…you better not have hurt her…hurt me instead…it's my fault…

He only looked up when Snow pulled open a set of enormous French doors that displayed a large, gold seal of Panem. And there she was. Annie sat in a chair in front of Snow's desk, looking shaken but otherwise unharmed. She turned slightly in her chair and her eyes briefly met Finnick's. A million different things were communicated between them in those few seconds, none of which could quite be translated into words.

Snow strode around to the back of his desk and sat down. Finnick didn't dare approach Annie, but he wasn't sure where to go. He settled for hovering by the corner of the desk, far enough away from her to keep Snow comfortable.

"So…" Snow said softly after a very pregnant pause. "We seem to have a bit of a situation on our hands." Neither Annie nor Finnick spoke, so he continued. "Mr. Odair made a rather grave mistake while on his latest…business trip to the Capitol. Miss Cresta was brought here, as I have no doubt you have both gathered by now, to provide a bit of incentive for him to clean up his act, so to speak. I realize that the two of you are involved romantically, and, as Mr. Odair knows, I have not taken issue with that thus far. However…" He turned to address Finnick directly. "It has been very recently brought to my attention that Miss Cresta has very limited, if any, knowledge about what it is that you do for us here in the Capitol. Perhaps, since you have behaved so carelessly, you would like to share that information with her now."

Finnick felt his jaw drop in horror. No. No, no, no. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. He had been planning on telling Annie about what Snow made him do, but he had been waiting for the right time. His main focus as of late had been helping her overcome her own demons; he didn't want to add his into the mix. Not to mention—and he was ashamed beyond belief—that he was scared. He was terrified of what her reaction might be to something like that and the most cowardly part of him had only wanted to avoid the emotional trauma.

"I…I can't." He stammered.

Snow raised his eyebrows. "You can't?"

Finnick could feel his hands shaking. His voice seemed to be stuck in his throat.

Snow gave a slight nod. "Very well, then. Miss Cresta will find out soon enough on her own, then, seeing as she'll be joining you."

"NO!" Finnick could feel the panic rising again. "No, please…please don't."

Snow leaned slightly forward over the desk and got his face so close that Finnick could smell the poison and roses on his breath. "Then tell her, Finnick." His voice was deadly calm.

Finnick swallowed the lump in his throat that had been threatening to suffocate him and turned toward Annie to give what was going to be the most impossible and horrific explanation of his life. She stared back at him, her beautiful green eyes filled with horror and confusion.

"Annie…" Finnick took a deep breath and closed his eyes, forcing himself to find the right words. "It's true that I haven't been entirely honest with you about what I've been doing in the Capitol. You see…often times, when an…attractive teenager wins the Hunger Games, they're asked to…" he stopped, feeling like he was being engulfed in an emotion that was worse than fear or grief or anger. Then the words came tumbling out of him in an avalanche. "President Snow sells their bodies to Capitol citizens. The appointments are with people who hand over a fistful of cash to spend a night with the famous Hunger Games victors. That's what I do. That's where I've been going." He found that he couldn't continue any further and he turned away, covering his face with one hand and gripping the edge of the desk with the other, too ashamed to look her in the eye.

The silence that followed was one of the heaviest that he had ever experienced. He didn't think he would be able to turn around and see the look of stricken disgust that was sure to have appeared on Annie's face. He didn't want to see the awful, smug expression that undoubtedly was on President Snow's. He felt like he was drowning, and there was no lifeboat in the world that could save him.

"Very well," President Snow finally said. "Mr. Odair, you are to report immediately to my client to make up for your idiotic mistake last night. My secretary will give you the address on your way out. You will return back here when you're done and the two of you will be free to go."

Finnick, after a brief pause, slowly turned and began to trudge toward the door. As he made to leave the study, he dared to turn back and look at Annie. She faced away from him, her elbows on the desk, her face buried in her hands.