A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and given me a reason to put time aside to do what I love.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
"Are you nervous?"
It's one of those things Annie says that makes me sorry I didn't think to say it first. Annie is the one who is new at this whole victor thing. Since the year she won, she's been to exactly zero events pertaining to the Hunger Games. Katniss and Peeta's arrival in our district marks the first time Annie's been in the presence of victors from outside of 4 in four years. In a few days, she'll revisit the Capitol that she hardly remembers ever visiting before. It's she, not I, who has reason to be nervous.
Her pinky hooks around mine in a gesture that's something like hand-holding. With Mags's head barely reaching the point between our shoulders and the other victors from 4 at our backs, even the cameras won't notice. Ultimately, the want to smile at her thoughtfulness wins out against the fear that has otherwise been etched upon my face. I am nervous. Annie knows me well enough to know that; her gesture is her attempt at comforting me.
I'm afraid. I'm afraid for Annie in the Capitol. For her family while we're gone. For what the people of District 4 will do if Peeta and Katniss inspire in them the same passion that I know must have cost more than a few people in District 11 their lives.
On stage, the boy still limps a little and does all the talking. I can't look at him without wondering how else he'll be changed by all of this. Instead, I focus on Haymitch, who's as sober as I've seen him and looking that much worse for it. Next to me, Annie has eyes only for Katniss.
"She's beautiful," she whispers.
Katniss is plain like Annie is. You can tell that she'd probably only be moderately pretty without makeup. She has the dark-haired, light-eyed look I've seen on most of District 12's tributes. To Peeta, she probably looks like home, the same way Annie does for me. So in a way Annie's right about her being beautiful. I don't say this to Annie though.
I'm not paying attention to what Peeta is saying. It's nothing I haven't seen him say on television as he visited seven other districts. Instead, I play this game where I exhale and blow Mags's hair forward. The first time, she just fixes it. The second time earns me an elbow in the gut. After, my mind drifts back to the source of my nervousness. Tonight, Haymitch will give me a better idea of what to expect in the coming days, weeks, and months. I'll learn whether other victors and their families have had losses as we have. I'll have a better idea of what to tell Annie to expect in the Capitol.
Peeta only reclaims my attention when he stops talking to give Katniss a lingering kiss. I'm close enough to notice the way his eyebrows wrinkle as though he's in pain even though he's leaning into her and she's the one pulling away. I can feel my face getting hot with anger, and at first I think it's because I'm jealous of Peeta for being able to kiss the girl he loves in public, but I quickly realize his fate might be worse than mine. Having Annie forced upon me against her will for the sake of the cameras would be worse than not having her at all.
There's a sharp pressure on my wrist that forces me to release Annie's hand. Vessel. Annie massages her pinky and I realize that I must have squeezed or twisted it in my anger. It makes me think of Snow. "How is it that you expect to barter for their protection when it seems that what they need protecting from is you?"
Mags turns and hugs me. Looking around, mostly everyone here is smiling and cheering, and hugging. We must look like we're celebrating Peeta and Katniss's love with the rest of them. Around us, they chant Katniss's name. She's the one they love. She's the one who had the idea that saved them both and sparked the rebellion
My hands are in fists. I want to go home. I want to go home and throw or break something. I want to break Haymitch's neck for bringing them here to remind our people to fight back.
Next to Mags and me, Annie is clapping and smiling and crying all at once.
I don't get to go home. Not really. After the display in the square, the crowd thins and I deliver Annie and Mags back at the Crestas' and offer Annie's father an apologetic look that will never begin to compensate for the pain I've caused his family. Then I go to Mags's, dress for dinner, and leave. The chance to find out what's going on in the rest of the country is worth the hefty price of my attendance.
I've just caught a glimpse of the newly-engaged couple when two sisters—or maybe they only look alike because they've both had nose-shrinking and lip-plumping surgeries—on the camera crew request a video tour of my house. They hook their arms through mine and bat their unnaturally long eyelashes, letting me know they have no interest in anything but my bedroom. I can only assume that they serve the dual purposes of keeping me away from Haymitch and recording footage that will let President Snow know just how well I'm mending after everything with Adrian.
The women videotape and act in turns. It makes me sick to do these things in my father's house, to do them with Annie only a few houses away. And at the same time, it's easier than it should be. After everything that's happened, shutting down mentally is a welcome relief. This feels...it feels routine. Normal. Good. I tell myself that maybe this could save us. When he sees, Snow will have no reason to doubt my willingness to play this part.
I'm not in the mood to talk to anyone—even Haymitch—when I re-enter the dinner party with a woman on each arm, the three of us smiling like guilty teenagers. Katniss watches me while Peeta watches her. I'm pretty sure she despises me, but I blow her a kiss just in case. She scowls and turns back to her pretend lover.
Haymitch puts a hand on my shoulder, rescuing me from the women. He says, "You look good, Finnick." He pulls out my jacket to examine me. "Still a little thin, I'm afraid. This is a lovely suit."
The whole exchange strikes me as odd until I feel him slip something into my vest pocket. "And you," I reply, "finally getting to travel the country. How's that treating you?"
Haymitch hands me a glass of something sour and wrinkles his eyebrows knowingly. "You know me. I'd be happier at home with a bottle."
The burning in my throat helps push the words out. "But surely there's a lot to see, a lot that's changed since you last made your rounds."
His eyes are locked on mine when he says, "Yes. A lot has changed."
To avoid suspicion, I wrap an arm around Haymitch's shoulders and say loudly, "So, when do you think these two will be married? How much time do I have to convince Peeta to make me his best man?"
They don't stay long but then again I never expected them to. Peeta and Katniss may bring joy and good cheer to Panem, but in districts like mine, where so many terrible things have happened, they also bring a dangerous hope for change.
After the train leaves, I go back to my father's house and easily make myself wait until the bathtub is full before I undress and remove Haymitch's note from my pocket. In the hot bath water, swirls of oil rise from everywhere the Capitol women touched my skin. I read the writing quickly first, absorbing none of it. I am looking only for news of immediate danger, but there is none. It takes more focus than I'm prepared to use to read the writing a second time.
I leave the bath with three pieces of information: first, other districts are on the brink of uprisings; second, sources say there is an escape route through District 4, though whether or not anyone from District 4 has actually made it to District 13 is unclear; third, Johanna is safe in 7. I drown the paper; the ink bleeds from the page, tinting the draining water an almost undetectable blue before vanishing down the drain.
The path to 13, Haymitch claims, begins with something of a hole in the northern wall. The edges around the hole are sharp, and there's always the danger of drowning, but anyone who has escaped to the outskirts of other districts from 4 has left this way. Annie's family will go the same way. I will tell them the way and that they need to practice both swimming in tight spaces and holding their breath. Other than that, I want to know nothing about their plan. The less I know, the easier I'll be able to lie to Annie.
I dress in ill-fitting pajamas—the good ones are all at Mags's by now—and sleep in my father's bed. In the morning I will consult my mentor and lay out the plan with Annie's family. After that, I have to let them go and let go of any responsibility I feel for them. I can't save everyone, and trying is only going to compromise my ability to save Annie. I fall asleep to the sound of guns firing at what I can only hope are fish.
So I completely forgot about this chapter, and as it turns out, it's actually the NEXT chapter that's one of my favorites. Editing that over the next few days so stay tuned! Reviews are always fantastic, and I'm looking forward to breaking 200 for this story very soon...so if you're one of the many people who have favorited this without leaving feedback, please leave some love now! Thank you!
