"I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there's no relief in waking."- Mockingjay, Chapter 11

HAYDEN (2)

Hayden Odair, aged 17. District 4

How do you pick up the threads of an old life?

It's not Hayden's brother who comes home. The person who steps off the train at District 4 is utterly unrecognisable from the Finnick Odair that Hayden knows. The Finnick Odair that Hayden knows was the boy who brashly volunteered for the Hunger Games at fourteen. The boy who flirted his way through Caesar Flickerman's interviews and won the love of the Capitol citizens. But this boy here shows no signs of Hayden's brother's confidence. Instead he seems to shrink under the welcoming cheers of District 4 as he steps down onto the platform, and although he is smiling, it's the kind that doesn't reach his eyes, not the blinding cheeky grins of the Finnick of old. His hair seems flat, and his clothes a little crumpled, as though he's slept in them overnight.

His parents don't seem to notice. Hayden's mother rushes at her son the moment he is within arm's reach, the rest of the family not far behind. Obediently, Hayden steps up as well to greet his brother but as he gets closer he sees the blank expression in Finnick's eyes and realises that he's not seeing them at all.

He doesn't see them as they lead him away from the station and away to Victor's Cove. They had moved all their stuff that morning and everyone is excited to see what Finnick thinks of the new place. But he doesn't even react as the take him up the front steps. He still doesn't see them as he's given the grand tour which Hayden thinks is a tragedy as their new house in Victor's Cove is amazing. The carpets are soft, the rooms are spacious and it even has those amazing showers from the Capitol that tributes always talk about in their interviews- the ones with all the different settings. For the first time ever, Hayden has his own room. His own space that he doesn't have to share with his little brother. It's huge and when he moved into it Hayden realised he doesn't have enough stuff to fill it up with at all. His mind drifts to the Tuesday market and he wonders if there are any nik-naks there that he could buy to make it more homely. It's not like they have to worry about money anymore.

Now Finnick has won the Hunger Games he has more than enough money for the whole family to live on for the rest of his life. Hayden and his father won't need to fish anymore. Maybe he could go back to school, learn something useful. Maybe he could even learn enough to become something else- not everyone in the District is a fisherman. There were still the occasional doctor, dentist and council member. Maybe Hayden could train to be someone like that now with all his free time, do something useful with his life.

Life is suddenly full of possibilities again.

But Finnick is obviously not seeing that either.

In fact, the only think he does seem to notice is when his old lady mentor, Mags, appears in their new shiny kitchen. She ruffles his bronze curls and says something to his that Hayden doesn't quite catch, but it makes the corners of Finnick's lips twitch which is a relief. Perhaps he's still in their somewhere.

Hours later they're still all hovering around Finnick, and Hayden feels his patience waning.

Their mother keeps bubbling over with emotion- whether it's happiness or concern Hayden can't tell- every time Finnick looks at her. Sammy keeps asking him questions about the Capitol, which Finnick does answer. He tells them about the funny people and all the fancy buildings and rich food. Their father keeps repeating over and over again how proud he is of his son.

"You've brought pride to your family, to your District. There is no greater honour. We're so proud of you."

Proud of what? Hayden wants to ask. He's a murderer. His little brother is a cold-blooded murderer and yet here he is being celebrated. The anger bubbles underneath his skin as he wants to remind his father of the several hours he disappeared in his boat when Finnick brought his spear down into the heart of that girl from District 10. Or remind his mother of the way she flinched when her son stabbed the District 2 girl in the back when he was kissing her.

He's fed up of all the fuss they're making over Finnick, the fuss they've all been making- the whole District, the whole world even- ever since he volunteered to go and kill children.

Most of all he's fed up of the fake new Finnick that's returned from the Capitol. He doesn't smile like the proper Finnick and he doesn't make the stupid little jokes. Instead he acts like a hollow shell of the person he used to be. A person on auto pilot. And yet they still all fawn over him. It's as though he's given up on being interesting now that he's finally got everything he's ever wanted. Hayden wants to scream and shout at him. He wants him to wake up from the weird zombie state he's pretending to be in and act happy that he's escaped from the fisherman's life he never wanted.

But Finnick stays blank and fake and Hayden wishes he knew how to put aside the bitterness and jealously that he's always felt toward his brilliant little brother, especially when it's obvious the cost of fame and fortune was everything else.

XXX

It's a little bit awkward for the first few days. His parents are overbearing, Sammy is quiet, and everyone is tired because Finnick keeps waking them up with his nightmares. Hayden is starting to realise that having nothing to do all day is not as fun as he first thought it might be. He's almost reached the stage where he's about to head back down to the school and see what courses he can enrol in when his father suggests they take the boat out fishing.

Finnick doesn't really react. He hasn't really reacted at all since he's come home. He does what his parents suggest, he eats the food they put in front of him, but there's something missing. He spends a lot of time down on the beach- the private Victor's beach- sitting alone on the dunes, staring out at the waves. He sits there for hours, alone, looking sombre. This fishing trip is a blatant attempt by their father to try and get Finnick to interact with them again. Hayden's not convinced it will work, but their father looks pleased with himself anyway when Finnick shrugs his consent and follows them down to the harbour.

Their fishing boat is still moored down in the harbour bay near South Beach, near where they used to live. They ought to move it around to the pontoon where the other Victor's families keep their boats, but Tomas Odair hasn't got around to it yet. Still, it's not a long walk from Victor's Cove, although they have to walk through District Four's market place. Hayden can feel the eyes on them as soon as they leave the house. The pricking feeling of his skin increases in volume as it gradually gets worse as they encounter more and more people. It makes him want to shrink inside himself. The weight of their stares makes him want to squirm and hide, even though he knows he's not the subject of their attention. Looking to his brother, he can see Finnick is still just as unresponsive as he's been the last few days. He doesn't even seem to notice the people gawking. Hayden can't help thinking, bitterly, that the old Finnick would have lapped it all up, loving the attention. He wonders if that Finnick will ever return.

The boat is a relic of their old life, the life they used to live before his brother went and murdered a bunch of children. It's a life that Hayden had never thought he would miss, but the second he sees the patchwork sails and flaking paint on the bow he can't deny the pang of homesickness that hits him square in the chest. Homesick for the little house where he used to sit on the porch with his brother and mend nets. Homesick for the beach where he used to make driftwood fires with his friends. Even homesick for the days he spent fishing with his father and uncle instead of going to school. He feels a rush of something that he hasn't felt for a long time as he removes the coverings and unfurls the sail from where it has been folded up along the boom. It takes him a moment to realise it's excitement he's feeling.

Their father takes the tiller and the main sail. Hayden sets himself up with the jib sail at the front and Finnick raises the centre board. And then they're sailing out of the harbour and into the ocean and the salty waves are lapping up against the side of the boat, and Hayden is leaning out as the wind picks up, and he feels… free. The wind is in his hair and the salt spray hits his lips and Hayden realises there's nothing better than sailing. Away from the District and the Peacekeepers and their responsibilities. When you're out at sea the only things you need to think about is what tack you're on and whether the tell tales on the sail are flaring in the right direction.

When they're out far enough, their father reaches for the fishing nets, which is when Finnick suddenly reacts. He's suddenly hunching over and he's breathing fast and his hands are covering his face.

"Breathe, Finn," their father says. He says it like a mantra, repeating it again and again, letting go of the main sail sheet and the tiller to move over to his youngest son. Hayden grabs them both before the sail can start flapping wildly, and observes from a distance.

It's the first time Finnick's face has shown anything that remotely resembles as expression since he returned. Since he returned different. Hayden glances at the pile of netting in the bottom of the boat, and wonders if Finnick is also imagining the tributes he had killed getting tangled up in his net on the jungle floor. Hayden tries to repress a shudder as he remembers the wet sound the trident had made as it had impaled the District 9 boy. He tries to forget watching the guts of the District 1 girl spill onto the ground where Finnick had opened her up with his trident. He tries to forget the cool expression he had seen on his little brother's face as he had murdered a string of children.

His mother had covered Sammy's eyes when it had happened, and Hayden wished she had covered his too. It was chilling, and he can't help searching his brother's face for signs of it when he's not paying attention. He watches as his brother's shaking fingers land on his cheek, in just the place where the District 1 girl's blade sliced him, although there is no scar. Huh, Hayden thinks, that's weird.

So it looks like they're not fishing today then. It hardly matters as it seems Victors and their families are exempt from the fishing quotas that overwhelm the rest of the District. Finnick's freak out doesn't last long, and so Hayden allows himself to relax and lose himself to the feeling of wet rope in his hands and choppy waves beneath. They don't talk much, although they do exchange some small talk and gossip about people they know. People from the life they've left behind. It makes Hayden suddenly realise he hasn't seen his friends in almost a week and so when they moor the boat again a couple of hours later, he decides to head to South Beach. He asks if Finnick wants to come, but his brother slopes off back to Victor's Cove instead.

They're all there of course, as he expected. Leila, and Joe, and Mab. He watches as the wind picks up the ends of Mab's pale blond hair and wonders how he could have stayed away for so long. They call out to him as he walks down the sands towards them, and he rejoices in the wash of familiarity that falls over him. This is where he belongs. Not in the giant, perfect house in Victor's Cove with all his relatives hovering around his mentally disturbed brother, but out here on the beach, and earlier out on the waves.

He sits down next to Mab on the sand, and she smiles at him and she's beautiful and Hayden has missed her more than he'd realised. And then she opens her mouth to speak, and-

"How's Finnick?" Mab says, and the bitter feeling he's been carrying in his stomach falls right back into place.