Finnick POV
I wake up to a gentle prodding in my side and my eyes flutter open. "It's me," Annie says, her voice weary and tired. If I could spare her this pain, I would. She could've killed every tribute in her Games, and she still wouldn't have deserved going through this. This is breaking her – and watching her fall apart is breaking me. The Games will be so much harder; knowing that every time I suffer, she has to watch. I lunge forward and hug her, trying to be playful, like always. She laughs and pushes me away. "Oh, Finnick.. I'm sorry. The memories are worse. This is so overwhelming, and I'm not strong like you. I can't cope as easily! Which is stupid, because it's you going through this-," Her voice becomes strained, "I'd give anything to be in your place."
No. This beautiful woman, this woman that knows me better than anyone else, the one I cherish over everyone. If she was in the arena, I'd murder Snow and every Capitol citizen I saw. I don't know what I'm doing in the arena. The plan.. it's a long-shot. I'd love to be optimistic and say that it'll work, but it's more realistic to think like it won't. I know I have to protect Katniss, for the sake of the rebellion; but I don't know if I'd be selfless enough to give up my life for her, Mockingjay or not. Annie needs to be free, but … I haven't quite decided if I'm willing to give that over us having a long, if forever controlled, life together. If I never left the arena, Annie would go mad; but she'd be free. And alive. She'd recover, after awhile; with the gentle therapy of the ocean and faint memories. She'd never be the same, but… she'd be free.
"Mags was amazing to volunteer, but.. still." Tears start to stream down her face, and I wipe them away. I wrap my arms tightly around her, and she crumples, sobbing. I'm greedy. I'm selfish enough to have pushed Mags out of my mind. I love her. She's practically my mother. But she won't survive, and she knows it. I wish she could get out. But what's the use? She's old, and she volunteered knowing she was going to her death. She would absolutely not live with herself knowing that so many young people died while she got out of the arena; so she is not winning. She knows that I cannot protect her with my life. She was selfless enough to give up her life for the chance of my survival; for the chance of Annie and I finally having a happy life together. And my heart breaks, knowing she will die.. but it's the harsh reality, and I have to face it.
"Finnick.. what was it like, watching my Games?" She says. "I should be prepared, for whatever happens. Tell me everything." She grasps my hands and stares into my eyes. I want to break our gaze; I want to lie. I want to say that it's not that bad. But the truth is the least I owe her. "I wanted to murder anyone that touched you. If you died, I would've smashed all the T.V screens, attacked the mentor from your murderer's District, killed Snow, killed anyone that tried to restrain me, and then I probably would've jumped off from whatever Capitol building I ended up in when my mission was finished, cameras filming and people watching," Her eyes widen. I know what I said was ridiculous, excessive; but the memories, from years and years ago, are still branded fresh in my mind. That's what I had planned to do, and I would've done it, if she hadn't won her Games. "You love me too much, Mr. Odair." She says, still buried in my arms. "You own my heart; it's only expected," I say lightly, trying to coax a laugh from her. She smiles weakly, and her expression turns serious. "Finnick, don't lie to me. Did you.. help me win?" I stop dead; my heart pounding. I never thought we'd have this conversation. I never planned to tell her of my short chat with Snow; of my begging and pleading. "Before I answer," I stutter slightly, "You have to know, you could've won on your own. You were in the final two, and District 1 was hardly in any condition to beat you. But – I just couldn't take the chance. I love you so much. You were so close to winning – I already counted on you coming home. I didn't know if the Capitol was going to stage the fight, so she won; I didn't know if Mutts were going to come after the both of you," Annie winces at the mention of the District 1 girl, and I place my hand on her cheek. "I asked Snow to let you win; because you deserved it. District 1 was already dead. Don't think you wouldn't have won without me." My voice becomes high and pleading.
I watch her, judging her reaction. I don't know what'll happen – will this tear us apart? Love can be broken by the pettiest of things. I love her, with everything I have; and I know she loves me in that way, too. I'm one of the worst people you could choose to love – all this secrecy, our relationship practically controlled by the Capitol. Our lack of freedom. And it's all because of me – because I'm Finnick Odair. If Annie had chosen anyone else, they could be in District 4 right now, taking care of their many children and never having to worry about being seen together. I'm so lucky she chose to love me; when she could've had anything and everything. Maybe this is my last strike. Maybe she's finally tired of living like this.
I'm desperately hoping that she'll give me another chance when she speaks. "I'm so incredibly lucky to have you, Finnick. You went to Snow, the devil; and had the courage to ask for my life. And, well, if you were anyone else, I'd be dead now." She smiles and relief overcomes me. We stare at each other for a second before she takes my face in her hands and kisses me. It's a deep, meaningful kiss; and even though we've had hundreds, the spark never fades. I'm so fortunate to have found someone like this; someone who has turned into my everything.
oooo
Today's the first day of training. I make my way from our floor to the Gym. I practically had to pry Annie from me, as unhappy as being without her made me, as well. As soon as I arrive on the bottom floor, I look around the room. Only half of the tributes are here; and I doubt many more will come. Why pretend like they can learn anything new now; and why pretend like they still have some sort of skill to show off? Most of us aren't as fit as we were back then, with the rare exception of the District 1, District 2, Johanna, Katniss, Peeta, and I. The trainers allow us into the Gym fairly early; and we're given a short explanation and a list of the stations, though all of us are familiar with this, already.
As I glance around the gym, a strong wave of nostalgia hits me. I thought I'd never see this Gym again; and being here feels wrong. In the 10 years since I've been here, everything has been replaced; but the set-up is the same. It brings memories back. I can recall almost perfectly what my training was like when I was 14. I was still in shock, hardly believing that I was going into the Hunger Games. I remember sizing up my opponents, the worry that hit me when I saw what fierce competition I had. I can still generate the faces of most of my opponents. My now long-dead opponents. I stuck to myself, not alerting anyone of my talent with a trident. My favorite station was the net-weaving station, and my frequent stops there probably helped me win my Games. No one approached me for an alliance, and even the instructors at the stations I went to treated me gently. Everyone assumed that I, being the youngest player, would be the first dead. Nobody expected me to make it past the Bloodbath, let alone win. But I proved them wrong.
I have nothing to hide now, and I immediately make my way towards the weapons. I pick up a beautiful golden trident, its shiny base engraved with pearls and shells. I savagely throw it at a dummy, from 15 feet away. The thud it makes upon impact can be heard throughout the Gym, and I chose to ignore the looks of fear and jealousy I get. I don't want to kill anyone, but… it's a necessity. It's something that must be done, for the Rebellion, Annie, and I. After I become tired of being a brute, I head away to the net-weaving station. The instructor here is the same one I had in my Games ten years ago; and he slaps me fondly on the back. "Finnick – you've certainly grown up! You're a pro; you don't need to be here!" He says jokingly. I grin weakly and get to weaving. I'm good at nets, and I manage to produce fairly intricate samples. My hands are nimble and more skilled then they were all those years ago. I'm relieved; I'm in better shape than I was the first time around. Smarter, stronger, and I have more drive. More motivation to get home. I'm lucky; winning, if I must, will be a piece of cake.
I weave nets out of vine, root, and I even take a try at grass, in case my options are extremely limited. I have no idea what the arena will be like, but hopefully it's something I can work with. Water. Forest. Things that offer supplies and shelter. I'm hoping I at least get a trident and find some sort of stream, but the Gamemakers are unpredictable. For all I know, we'll be in a frozen wasteland with only chunks of ice and spiked maces to kill each other with – lovely to imagine, right?
Eventually I get tired of weaving nets and wave good-bye to the instructor. I look around the Gym, for something to do; and I spot Katniss. She's at the knot-tying station, looking like the knot she's tying is a massive challenge. I smirk and walk over quietly, trying to surprise her. I sneak behind her back, and, because I need all the humor I can get, wrap my arms over her and finish the knot she's tying. She's clearly inexperienced; and it takes me only a few seconds to finish the knot. It's a less complicated version of weaving; and it's really quite easy, if you practice enough. She frowns at me, and in an attempt to be humorous, I tie a rope into a noose, and I wrap it around my neck. She could either be disturbed or amused by this; and she seems to take to the second. We part silently, and I'm left, again, to look around the room.
I want Katniss for an ally, but I'm not used to having to ask for things – as self-centered as it sounds, I get what I want. I've never proposed an alliance – it'd help if I had someone reasonable to work with, but Katniss seems slightly… stubborn. However, she's the Mockingjay, and she's evenly matched talent-wise to me. I want Mags as an ally, as well. I couldn't live with myself if I left her alone to die – I'd like to give her some comfort in her last moments, and no doubt she'll be comforting me when it's her time. I look for Mags, and spot her at the archery station.
I walk over, and her face immediately lights up. "Finnick, darling!" She squeaks. I grin and she stares at me proudly. "I raised an amazing young man." She says, her eyes shining. She's my second mother – and after… after my family's death, she did raise me. I hug her, gently; and her happy smile quickly turns to a frown. "I wish I could live to see my grandchildren." She says. I blush, though I'm sure she's guessed that if Annie and I could have children without penalty, we would've, by now. She winks and we both practice shooting arrows for awhile – neither of us are particularly good, and we can't even begin to measure up to the Mockingjay. But at least I know the feel of a bow and have some amount of experience.
Lunch comes and goes; and Mags and I stick together. We head to the knife throwing station, which I'm fair at; swords, which I can't fight with for my life, and eventually we meet Katniss again, at the fishing station. I introduce Mags to Katniss, who seems somewhat confused by what Mags is saying – her words are slightly unintelligible, simply because of her age; but I've known her so long that I've gotten used to it. We make hooks together, a skill Mags far surpasses Katniss and I in. We split up; and I look around – searching for something to do. Training is something that you have to wait out; it's boring, and drags on endlessly. I'm about to head to the camouflage station when I hear gasps. I spin around, and there's Katniss; shooting arrows at stuffed birds a trainer throws into the air. She's flawless, and I'm envious; though she's probably as incompetent with a trident as I am with a bow. But this show of skill leaves most of the victors speechless, and now getting her as my ally won't be as simple as it once was.
Training finally ends, and we're free to go back to our floors. I immediately collapse into Annie's bed as soon as I get back. "Finnick!" She says, plopping herself down beside me in a hurry. "Are you okay?" She whispers, stroking my hair, feeling my forehead. "It's just..," I pause. "This is exhausting. It's hell. This was torture enough the first time around, now it's unbearable. I just want to get into the arena already, and I just want all of this to be over," I say. We sit together quietly, and she gently strokes my cheek. "I don't know what I'd do without you," I murmur. She nods, a silent agreement; and kisses my temple gently.
"Tell me everything about your Games," She says, suddenly. "What?" I say, shocked by the abruptness of the question. "Finnick... you need to," She says, her voice tender. I want to be reluctant, I want to stay silent; but then I realize it doesn't matter. I trust her with everything – and this is no different. I start, and as soon as I do, it all comes pouring out. "I was 14, and as soon as I was reaped I knew it was a death sentence. No one under the age of 15 had ever won the Games; at least not for a couple of decades. I'm amazing with a trident, sure; but the Careers were massive and skilled at everything. My family and I said our last good-byes; and I remember my father crying.. though he was about as emotionless as they come. As we sped by the ocean on the train, I knew it was my last time seeing it. My heart was broken by the injustice of it all. My district partner was a Career. She turned her nose up at me and ignored me from the start. My heart sank when I watched the Reaping; I was the youngest tribute and far smaller than everyone else. I wasn't giving up, but I wasn't arrogant enough to think I even had a chance of winning. I made no alliances, and everyone ignored me. I pretended to have no skill to receive a low score in Training; and I kept myself under the radar. During the Bloodbath, I made off with a knife and a few bags of supplies. Soon enough I learned that the sponsors loved me. I got my trident, I got whatever I needed. If it weren't for them, if it weren't for my looks.. I'd be dead. I killed six people – and I didn't care. I did it without hesitation." By the time I finish I'm crying, light, silent tears. Annie hugs me tightly – she never really knew what my Games was like. She knew tidbits, but nothing more. "I'm so sorry," She says, her voice fierce. An enormous weight is lifted off of my chest, and I realize she's the first person I've ever discussed my Games with. She's the first person to ever know the 65th Hunger Games from a first-hand view. She's the first person I've ever trusted enough to tell.
"I love you," I say, my voice firm. "You're the first person I've ever told… I've never even talked about the Games with Mags," I say. "And the last," I add. "Finnick, everyday I wonder why I'm blessed enough to have you, when you could've had anyone...," She says, her voice distant. "What – Annie, you're perfect. Trust me, you can't build this sort of relationship with anyone," I tease. She raises her eyebrows. "Oh, so, you're saying that I'm one of a kind?" She says. I smile. "Exactly."