Nightmares fill my head once again. Except this time, they're about me being murdered in the arena. Spear through the head, knife to the heart, burned alive, attacked by the Capitol's muttations. All those things fill my head and reek havoc. At one point when I wake up, my throat is extremely dry and cracked. I guess I've been screaming. I manage to pull myself out of bed and get dressed in an actual nightdress. Silk, as usual. I climb back into my bed and drift into sleep, where more nightmares await me.

Death. Blood. Suffering. I wish they would go and torture someone else instead of me. Actually, no. I don't wish that. No one deserves these nightmares. I wake up again, my throat feeling dryer than before. I sit up and lean my head against the wall, staring at the ceiling. Suddenly, I hear breathing. I whip my head to the right, where the sound is coming from. Finnick is sitting right next to my bed. He's only wearing pants. Figures. I glare at him.

"Do you always sneak into girls' bedrooms?" I ask, scratching my head sleepily.

"No," says Finnick. "They sneak into mine." His tone isn't joking. It's serious, like he really meant what he said.

"I'm sure they do," I say back. "Was I screaming again?"

"Yeah," Finnick nods. "It was pretty loud this time. I'm surprised Bella or Mags didn't hear it first."

"Oh, sorry," I apologize. I feel bad that I keep waking Finnick up.

"No, it's fine. I wasn't really sleeping anyway."

"What were you doing, then?" I ask, expecting a sarcastic answer.

"Thinking," is Finnick's answer, not sarcastic or even flirty. This is a totally new side of him I've never seen before.

"About what?"

"Oh, nothing." Finnick shakes his head, as if to clear his thoughts. Then he stands up and sits down on my bed. I move over to him.

"Something's wrong," I say to him. "What is it?"

"Nothing," he tells me. "Nothing that you can do anything about, anyway."

"Just tell me. Maybe I can," I insist.

"Not unless you can reverse the past," Finnick mutters. He obviously didn't expect me to hear it, but I do. I'm about to say, "What's that supposed to mean?", but decide not to.

"Okay, well just tell me if something comes up," is what I say instead. I put my hand on his shoulder, feeling his muscles relax.

We sit there together for a while in the silence. I ponder on what Finnick said. No, they sneak into mine. Thinking. Nothing you can do anything about. Not unless you can reverse the past. I always thought Finnick had a fine past, being crowned victor at such a young age. He was rich at age fourteen, and was the number one heartthrob in Panem. What could have been so wrong with his past?

"Finnick," I breathe softly in his ear. "Thanks for coming again."

He turns his head to me and locks his gaze on mine. "No problem," he says.

I put my chin on his shoulder. Then he does something that I never expected the great Finnick Odair to do. He cries. I see a small teardrop fall from his left eye. Never in my life did I expect to see Finnick cry. Ever. I knew he did; everyone cries. But I never thought I'd see it.

I know why he does, too. Because of what he said about me changing the past, and not being able to help him. Maybe it's true, too. Maybe I can't help him. But I still want to know what his problem is.

"Oh, my God, Finnick," I say, moving to his side. I put both hands on his shoulders. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he tells me.

"There's obviously something wrong," I counter. "Finnick Odair doesn't cry unless it's something serious." I joke a little to try and make him feel better.

"You're right," he says, shaking his head. "It is something serious."

"What is it?" I ask again, starting to lose my paience.

"The Capitol," he tells me in a low voice. "I can't tell you. I shouldn't have even told you that."

"Why not?"

Finnick turns his head to me again. "Because it'll get you into trouble." And with that, he stands, and leaves, slamming the door behind him. Well, that's a new side of Finnick, I think.

I lay awake for the next few hours, wondering what was wrong with Finnick. Because it'll get you into trouble. What coud get me into trouble? I'm already in enough trouble, being here in the Games. What could be more trouble than this? I sigh, because I know Finnick is hiding something. Something about his past, something that he wants to change, and something that could get me into trouble. Easy enough to figure out, right? I think sarcastically. I close my eyes and fall back into my nightmares.