A/N: And it's been another month since I've updated. Can I say that at least I have been busily re-familiarizing myself with the series? I have been blowing through the books and am about a day away from being done them! And though this chapter might mislead people into thinking there is some Katniss x Finnick stuff, there isn't. Not really. I love the coupling, but not in this storyline.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A familiar feeling had started to set in as the moments wore on. It was an old feeling, one that I had traced back to the beginning of it all. It was the first feeling I remembered beyond the bone-chilling numbness preceding the Reaping the first time I had become a tribute. I wanted to be somewhere else, some place distant and far less complicated. It was bizarre, desiring times I had once believed to be bleak or terrible, but then again terrible had always been a part of my life… it simply varied in degrees. I yearned to slip into my hunting boots, tug on my father's jacket and head to the Meadow to meet Gale at our rock. We could fish and gather and hunt. We could smile and talk beyond fear of being over-heard. And I could trust him again with his pointless rages and not be constantly scared of what they could possibly translate to.
I hated not being sure of my own thoughts and mind. They were the only things I had that were mine beyond any doubt, but they weren't anymore. They were the Capitol's. I found small comfort in the fact that some of them had stemmed from me. I would take what I could get. My eyes fell to the scar that reached up my forearm in thin extra pale tongues. It was the scar that made me to think of Johanna and Beetee and Cinna. It had been well over a month since I had woken up and still I hadn't seen them, and still I couldn't bring myself to ask. I had my assumptions tucked in my head underneath horrors I didn't want to revisit. If I didn't know for sure I could still hope, I lied to myself. It was a practice I still was not very good at.
I didn't realize how vast the Refuge was until I started looking for Finnick. Our building was situated about a quarter of a mile from the wilderness. It was a hard thing to tell, where the wild began and the Refuge ended since it was more of an imagined line than any kind of actual boundary. It was the tangle of unruly undergrowth sprouting up everywhere that was the only clue. The ground had taken on a flattened slightly more groomed nature than the surrounding forest. I was quickly realizing I only had discovered a very small portion of this haven in my time here.
I continued doggedly searching for Finnick. I hadn't seen him since I woke up. Everyone was still giving me breathing room and time to come to grips, which suited me, just fine. However not knowing where the District 4 victory was began to annoy me before long. The Refuge was maybe half the size of District 12. This was larger than I originally had thought, but it should have taken me no time to figure out where he was, but instead I found everyone beside him.
The uneven ground in some of the new parts of town reminded me of the woods beyond District 12. The old trees roots were everywhere. This made the paths of the Refuge considerably harder to follow. By early afternoon I had familiarized myself with its layout. A mental map was blooming in my mind and I committed it to memory. I had known where the barn was from the trips Prim and I had been making to visit Lady. The shelter that was home to my mother, Prim, Peeta, Haymitch, and I housed roughly a dozen other families and a floor for medical care lead primarily by my mother and Prim as well as a handful of orderlies from District 13.
I wondered the crudely constructed pathways that wound around thick trunked trees that were impossibly old. Some of the trees were so old they had leaned in to one another and grown together in an embrace that left a narrow v-shaped archway framed with low dry vines. I could tell by the smells and the vegetation summer was making its presence known. The sun filtered through thick leaves making the colors it touched brighter and contrasting against the shadows.
I have lost all comprehension of time and distance when I suddenly came to a dead stop. A vast clearing appeared with very little warning. I stand at the tree line feeling like a startled animal. The clearing is perhaps three or four hundred feet long and almost all of that is occupied with a very tranquil looking lake. It is larger than the lake back in District 12, but similar in every other respect. I can spot several nests where waterfowl had either once occupied or perhaps still do, depending on how well known this place is. I keep my feet firmly planted as I survey the area carefully.
And that is when I see him, gliding effortlessly through the water with incredible and impressive speed. The person who I had almost entirely given up searching for was emerging from the water in a fluid motion. He is glistening from the droplets that were clinging to him. He looks like he is glowing.
"Are you going to hang out in the woods all day or are you going to come over and join me for a swim?" Finnick calls knowingly as he shakes his bronze mane releasing a spray of mist from his tangled curls.
I can't help the spike of adrenaline the words bring on. I remain rooted to the spot, certain there must be someone else hidden among the trees. Finnick could not possibly know I had approached. I was unquestionably obscured from view and even if I hadn't been moving cautiously through the wood, which I had been, he had been beneath the surface of the water when I had arrived! I quickly scan my surroundings again, but see no one.
Several moments drag passed, Finnick has busied himself with toweling dry with his shirt, I think, before he halts his movements and stares directly at me. Or at least in the general direction that I am currently occupying.
"Oh, don't be like that." He purrs in his trademark voice, sounding almost wounded, "Come out and play."
He might as well be at an uncomfortable proximity the way the blush assaults my cheeks. A pang of annoyance sparks up somewhere inside of me. Stupid Finnick and his stupid undeniable suaveness, but the feeling is oddly nostalgic and I welcome that if nothing else. I hesitantly emerged from the cover of the trees. Once convinced that his one-sided conversation was not directed at someone or something else I start towards him. By the time I am able to make out his facial features, the very faint residue of mild surprise resides on them.
"Hello, Katniss." He says casually, letting the cloth he was using as a towel drop to the ground. I glanced at it long enough to identify it as his shirt, just as I had suspected.
"I was beginning to think I was never going to find you." I respond with a nod and a slight smile.
"You were looking for me?" His eyebrows knitted together briefly in confusion, but then his cocky expression returned. "Finally given up pretending you aren't desperately in love with me?"
I shrug, "What can I say, you've found me out."
"Knew it." He chuckled triumphantly, dropping onto the bank and crossing his legs in one fluid motion. I don't think I would ever understand how someone so tall could move so gracefully.
I drop to the soft moist ground, folding my own legs clumsily. The words tumble out before my brain has time to register what is spilling from my lips. "I'm only human, O'Dair."
I hear Finnick chuckle, but it is from some far off place. I feel like the sound is traveling from a mile away carried to my ears on a breeze. I can feel my brows furrow in an emotion that I can't place. I'm not sure what is happening or why, but I suddenly feel wrong. And it was with that realization that the memory hit me so hard that I am momentarily convinced that I'm under attack. I vaguely register Finnick looking at me and the look of fear in his eyes. I have time to wonder what he must be seeing. Then it doesn't matter because I am entirely consumed and blind to the lake and Finnick.
I'm transported to District 13, standing in the corridor next to Boggs. Finnick is there in his hospital gown and then just his underwear. He strikes his ridiculously provocative pose. I remember this. It was just before I traveled to District is nothing terribly morphed about this recollection, nor is there anything upsetting about it. It's quite harmless, in fact. So why is the panic building in my chest? Why am I frantically searching for a way out? I'm frozen, completely locked in this dreamland. And it's more terrifying than I have words for.
That's it, isn't it? It's scary because I know it isn't real. I know that these memories were planted there by the Capitol. But everything about it feels like reality. I notice the damaged look in Finnick's eyes, and I can feel how very unstable he is, because I am dealing with the very same emotions.
No, you aren't. I tell myself firmly. I close my eyes to Finnick and Boggs, willing them back into the gaping hole they had climbed out of.
"Katniss." Finnick's voice, his real voice, is firm and loud, but not quite a shout. I open my eyes. Sea-green eyes are inches from my face. They are dark with concern and something more.
Fear.
I can feel his hands on my arm. His fingernails are biting into the soft flesh of my forearms, which are anchored on either side of my head. That's when I become aware of the hot sticky liquid dripping down from my temples. I have drilled my fingernails into the skin there, attempting to ward off the memories. I have folded myself into the most unassuming form my body can manage. I'm in a tight little ball on my side, where only moments ago I had been seating casually beside Finnick. My muscles hold the position so tightly that I am unsure if I can make them loosen. I manage to at least relax my arms enough that he can remove my nails from the half-moon craters that have created on my face.
He doesn't say a word, only tends to the little wounds with the shirt he had been using as a towel. Once he has mopped away the blood and inspected me, he informs me they are little more than scratches and that I will live. He doesn't expect an answer. He lifts my body to rest in his lap. It's awkward since I still can't persuade the rest of my limbs to release their ridge stance. Finnick methodically undoes my braid, and combs my hair with his fingers. He is talking softly, soothingly as he does this. I listen to the sound of his voice, but ignore the words. I'm too shaken to allow myself to register anything so I keep everything basic knowing that will be safe.
Finnick is knotting my hair, or maybe he's braiding it. Whatever he is doing, the sensation is not unpleasant. There is something oddly comforting from the light touches across my scalp. His voice fades off after some time and we sit in silence. My muscles slowly thaw out in the heat of the summer sun. I gingerly begin to move my limbs, almost experimentally. Finnick releases my hair when I become more active. I reclaim my spot next to him on the bank of the lake. It is only when the sun starts its late afternoon decent that the silence breaks.
"How about that swim?" Finnick offers abruptly. He doesn't wait for my reply. He is in the water before I have time to draw a breath.
I strip out of my shirt and pants deciding that the water will be good for the constant ache of my body. If nothing else it would act as a distraction from the episode I had just endured and the weight of what it had to have meant for me. I jump in the water without pause. The lake is heaven. I closed my eyes briefly letting my sense of touch take over momentarily. Since most of the Refuge was protected by interlocking tree limbs high overhead which also provides ample amounts of shade, I have not noticed how all-consuming the summer heat was. We must be near the heart of summer, I estimate. The heat is so intense that even the water is warmer than I had initially expected on contact, but it pulls my temperature down immediately. It's only then that I realize I had been sweating. I can't decide if it is because of my fit or the time spent in the sun, most likely both play a part in it.
The only disruption in the water is Finnick's movements somewhere off to my left. I open my eyes and see him watching me. I know he has plenty of questions for me and wonder if Peeta or Haymitch had told him anything of my own hijacking. Or perhaps he is watching me because according to him, the last time I had seen him he knew I didn't trust him. I still felt like Finnick and I had been through hell together and we had… just not all of the hell I thought we had.
"I wish I could explain to you how weird this is." I say finally. "In the dream… we were really close."
"And now you're wondering if you can trust me." He supplied.
I nod, "I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to trust you, though."
He doesn't say anything, only swims wide, clockwise circles around me. I try to imagine what being in the water feels like to him. Watching him move across the surface of the lake causes me some kind of irrational joy. I think it's because I'm reminded of the Finnick I thought I knew. Maybe that part of the dream held some truth.
"Will you teach me to tie knots?" I ask him after several moments. I have begun to swim in counter clockwise circles so that I am constantly going in the opposite direction as him. I'm sure that I can remember from the suppressed memories, but now they frighten me. And what I really want is Finnick's company, the way it used to be.
He eyes me curiously, halting his circles. "Why?" the question is suspicious.
I know why immediately. He is thinking back to the Quell, when he showed me how to tie a noose. "I need something to concentrate on, a distraction."
I wonder if he thinks I'm insane.
"Alright." He agrees.
As the sun sinks below the tree line, we climb out of the lake and sit on the bank letting the warm, muggy air leech the droplets of water from us for a while. We are both staring at the serene body of water, watching fish pop up to swallow bugs from the surface or the tall reeds of grass swaying in the gentle breeze. Our questions for one another hang tangibly in the air. I know he wants to hear about my false life the same way I want to ask him about Annie… Someone else I haven't seen since I woke up. But neither of us asks those questions.
"A citizen army?" this one builds enough force inside of me that it shoots out in an accusing breath. For a moment I believe that there was no way Finnick could have understood it, but he does and he turns to me with a rueful smile.
"So, they finally told you."