"Annie…Annie…" she could barely hear the voice through the hallucinations that plagued her senses. No matter how tightly she squeezed her eyes shut, no matter how hard she pressed her palms over her ears, she could still see everything, hear every nuanced sound that her torturers had inundated her with. And even though they'd left hours ago, unstrapped her from the table and left her curled up on the floor, the gory montage still played over and over in her head, as palpable as if they'd left the monitors running.
The voice persisted. It was a warm, gentle tone—like Finnick's—and as she focused on it, the voice guided her out of her nightmares, helping her separate reality from nightmare until she was able to open her eyes. But, it wasn't Finnick who appeared before her. Instead, she found herself staring at a blue-eyed boy.
"Annie? Annie Cresta?" he asked again as he realized he'd finally gotten her attention. "I'm Peeta. I'm Finnick's friend."
Peeta. The boy from District 12, the one that Katniss Everdeen had saved in last year's Games, the one who turned right around and volunteered to go back into the Quell with her. He had been allies with Finnick, along with Katniss. But he was here, and they weren't.
"Wh-where is he?" she asked him.
"I don't know," Peeta admitted. "But I'm sure he's okay. I'm sure he's on his way to come get you right now."
His words brought no comfort to her. Finnick could be dead or dying or maimed for all they knew. Or maybe President Snow was right, maybe he'd run off to join the rebels and left her. But one thing she knew for sure—he wasn't coming to rescue her. An exhausted sob escaped her lips as tears began to run down her cheeks once again.
"No, no, no," Peeta quickly soothed. "It's okay. Annie, it's going to be okay." He reached through the bars that separated their cells and held out his hand to her.
After a moment of hesitation, she took it. His palm was warm, his touch tender, and gradually the trembling in her fingers began to subside. "Are you hurt?" she asked him. Amidst her own torture, she vaguely remembered the sound of his screams before he'd passed out. She could see the bruises around his face, the split in his lip, but he managed to smile despite the pain it must have caused him, "I'm okay."
"What about Johanna?" Annie sniffled. Peeta's cell was situated between the two of them, and from across the room, Annie couldn't tell if Johanna was unconscious or dead.
"She's sleeping," Peeta assured her.
Annie let out a sigh of relief before looking back to him, "What are we going to do?"
"…I don't know," he confessed. "But we'll figure something out, or they will. Finnick and Katniss have got to be looking for us."
Slowly, she nodded. She knew that he was trying to comfort her, but she could hear the sincerity in his voice, see the conviction in his eyes. He truly had hope, and she began to absorb it from his touch.
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, "Why don't you rest? If you have nightmares, I'll be right here."
It occurred to Annie then that she hadn't slept since she'd been taken from District 4. "Thank you," she breathed, finally allowing herself to succumb to her fatigue. She knew that as soon as she dozed off, her nightmares would return in full force, but she also knew that when she awoke, there'd be someone there to hold her hand, to draw her out. She knew that when she awoke, she'd have a friend in Peeta Mellark.