Hey guys… Terribly sorry I haven't updated in a long time. You see Friday I had birthday company over and Saturday was my birthday (and I started puking and my friend had to go home): and then I was quarantined to my room Sunday, and on Monday my dad was occupying the computer… so yeah…

And add summer workouts and some other mandatory stuff… you get a really busy author!

Annie's POV

Why am I in here again?

Because I'm mad at Finnick.

Why am I mad at my wonderful Trident Boy?

Because he's keeping secrets from me.

Why is he keeping secrets from me?

To protect me.

Does he have the right to make calls like that?

Yes, he is my mentor, after all. I probably shouldn't be mad at him. But I want to know!

Oh, Finnick. He thinks he's being all secretive talking to Johanna and hanging up the phone when I walk out. But I heard some cussing that could have only come from her mouth. I'm not angry that Finnick is talking to her; I'm actually kind of glad that he's found a friend.

I decide to let him have his time talking, so I don't disturb him. I feel just a little strange sharing this whole house with him now that Mags went back to District 4. I agree that she needed to go back though, for many reasons that I don't feel like naming off.

I really feel bad for yelling at Finnick when he was just trying to protect me. If he could just shield me from the world I think he might. I would do it for him.

Lock him in a room where he can't hurt himself and no one could hurt him. Erase his memory so that he wouldn't have any regrets. Wouldn't miss anyone. Not Jamie. His parents. Mags. Or me. He'd be carefree. No duties to perform as a victor. He wouldn't have to mentor tributes anymore. Wouldn't have to watch any more loved ones die. He wouldn't have to watch anyone die. If I proposed this idea though, he would probably be offended at my suggesting it.

Just like I'm offended at all of his secret keeping. But, as anyone can see, he's not locked in some room with his memory wiped. But then again, neither am I…

If I knew something that I thought he didn't need to hear, would I keep it from him? If his favorite trident got broken would I tell him? Well, that's not really serious. If… I can't think of anything. But if I had something important to tell him, or to not tell him, would I be honest? Or would I try to protect him at all cost?

I will probably have to make this decision sometime, so I need to make up my mind now. Do I trust that he can cope or do I just ensure that he doesn't ever get hurt?

Which is more important, to be honest or to protect him?

This is the question that haunts my dream.

Finnick smiles at me, his amazing green eyes sparkle with mischief. His usual bronze hair looks as if he had just woken up. His eyes are on me, his attention captured. He notices nothing but me. Not even that his body is lying a few feet away from us. He doesn't notice the warm, crimson blood that flows freely from both his body and head.

He is so peaceful, so happy. Should I tell him that his head's been cut off? Or just never leave him; never let his attention wander so that he notices? Is ignorance bliss or just agony for those around you?

I wake with a start. Two images mix in my mind, the heads of David and Finnick swirling along with a thick cloud of mist that doesn't seem to hold any answers.

Finnick's POV (back up in time just a little bit)

Maybe Mason's right. She probably is, girls usually are about this sort of thing. I should tell Annie. I just need to soften the blow as much as I can. I must walk straight into the room, and then tell her. Yes, I should tell her. She needs to know and it'll be way better coming from me than from a random stranger. I should tell her. I should tell her. I need to tell her. I need to stop procrastinating.

With a sigh, I get up from the couch and make my way towards our room, my bed still being the couch, of course. It's pretty late… She's probably asleep right now.

I worry about how she will react when I tell her. I should stay with her at all times after she finds out. She will probably want to go back immediately, which means I should alert the train beforehand so that don't have to leave her to do it. I know I'm stalling, but…

I inform the Tianna that we will be leaving early tomorrow to go back to 4 and hang up the phone once more. With shaking fists, I knock on the bedroom door. There is no procrastinating now, unfortunately.

I hear a gasp from inside and I open the door in a hurry, Annie's having another nightmare. She's sitting up in the bed, sweating and panting like crazy. Her eyes are feral until she sees me, at which they relax and she calms down, running her fingers through her beautiful frizzy hair.

"I need to tell you something," I admit, swallowing my excuses and uncertainties at once while sitting on the edge of the bed, right next to her.

"No, it's okay. You don't have to tell me," she says, looking at me with those soft green eyes, "I realized that I would probably do the same thing for you." Great, she's testing my resolve, but I must stay strong for her.

"You may want to do that, but I need to tell you. You need to know, Annie," I say.

"What?" her voice is so unaware, so unburdened now. I'd hate to change that. Shoot, I'm stalling again.

"Remember when you saw that video of the giant wave hitting District Four?"

"Yeah, you said Snow just did it to taunt me. That it was just a computer video," she says, and I almost lose my nerve now.

"Annie… I'm sorry, but… I lied to you. And…," I admit, my gaze lowering to stare at the comforter.

"And?"

"And…" I look back up at her, dreading to tell her about CeCe.

"And who's dead?" she sighs, unaware that what I say will forever change her.

"Annie… I'm really sorry, it's just-"

"Who's dead, Finnick?" her voice is hysterical, pleading almost. As if her life depended on the information, but at the same time could destroy her, which it can.

I put my hand over one of hers and look straight into her eyes, "It's CeCe."

"Are-are you sure?"

I nod. She stops moving.

The wails that escape her lips is unhuman. They're unearthly. Like some mixture of a whale call and the melodies sirens are told to sing. They shouldn't be happening. No such sounds should ever escape Annie again. Ever.

Tears flow freely from her eyes, like a fountain. Her face has paled of all color and her body shakes. I beckon her to my arms and she complies, burying her face in the curve of my neck. We are hugging each other now. It's tight, fierce, and full of snot, mostly Annie's. I'm attempting not to cry for Annie's sake.

Her hair's in my face and I can smell the mint in it. I breathe it in and try to stay sane myself. She cries and wails; I hold her and inhale the mint. After a long time of this, Annie finally pulls away. It must be about two in the morning.

"I have to go back," she says, while blowing her nose in a box of tissues by the bed.

"The train is waiting; I'll pack," I say, already opening the wardrobe.

"I'll help," Annie manages to get out before her voice cracks and a new wave of sorrow hits her eyes and she's forced to sit back down on the bed and watch me. I don't go to her because I feel as if I'm intruding. So I silently pack our things while Annie's cries break my heart in two.

So… Annie and Finnick finally are getting to go back home! I want reviews guys(: think of it as a birthday present!