These chapters are taking longer and longer to rewrite (but oh no we're getting close to the end)!


When I am once more dragged out of the darkness, I awake to a little blond head and a large man dressed all in white. I roll my head to side to side, which proves difficult. My body is sore, not from my fit entirely, more from these restraints and being confined to the bed for what must now be a few weeks.

Prim reads my mind as she moves towards me, "We're going to go on a little walk today Finnick," she awaits for a response for me but I can't find one.

The man comes over and unlocks the restraints and for the first time I notice the bandages on my wrists are gone... all that remains in its place is a nasty looking scar that is still scabbing over. But I am thankful to have this opportunity to move, to stretch my body. I start with my toes and move up, rolling around my calves and then pulling out my thighs. All signs of the arena are virtually gone, no more small bruises and the scars are now in the healing process. Basically my body is telling me it's time to move on, but my head just doesn't want to jump on that bandwagon.

I put my foot on the ground and move through my sugar cube, the tiles are cold so Prim offers me a pair of slippers. As I move around I continue to stretch until she makes it clear there is more to today than just taking off my restraints.

"Where would you like to go first?"

I look at her reluctantly with a smile pressed to my lips, "The bathroom."

She permits me to head to the bathroom on my own, but the guard follows. He seems to be a reminder that I can't have any break downs today. I've notice all the mirrors and reflective surfaces for the most part have been taken out of my room.

Luckily, I just need to take a piss, so it's not too embarrassing to do anything in front of this man. I guess I had been releasing my bowels and doing the same exact thing in my bed where nurses had to deal with it... but it still feels more awkward now, probably because I'm fully conscience about it now.

They have me in a regular pair of underwear and I drop them to the ground as I go about my business, I now have the opportunity to see that the little red marks that used to dot my nether regions are now nonexistent. Maybe I've been given medication here for the small welts, but regardless I'm glad they're gone – a piece of my old Capitol life that I no longer have to deal with.

Prim takes my hand when I finish and something registers as odd as she leads me around the hospital. The Games have obviously stunted my growth in more ways than one and now it seems even Prim is older than me. Ten years have turned me into a lunatic and her into a maturing, wonderful woman.

We walk slowly around the hospital,getting my legs used to my weight again, it's not a very big area. There's a little waiting room, with old books where I find Beetee sitting. I walk over to him and Prim helps sit me down since I still feel off balance. The guard is still looming over us but he seems more relaxed.

"Feeling better, Finnick?" He asks. He looks more hurt then anyone, though it shouldn't surprise anyone, one would assume he's the most fragile of us. Yet he seems perfectly capable of anything even if he is confined to a wheel chair.

I start feeling a little anxious as he peers towards me through his glasses, and I don't know why but I start tapping my fingers on my legs. Bouncing my attention to various objects in the room that is suddenly feeling really cold in light of everything. My foot starts this unrelenting tap as well, and no matter what mental signals I send my legs they won't stop bouncing.

Prim reaches over and holds my hand, Beetee tries not to trigger anything by staying silent. They're both trying to keep me calm – keep me out of that bed they're sure to throw me in if I act up. I try to force my breath lower as I choke out a, "good," in response to Beetee's question.

My hand goes my mouth and I start chewing on a nail. I'm tense and trying to fall back into the normal Finnick that he knows. It's more embarrassing breaking down in front of someone who knows what level you're usually at, "What are you doing Beetee? Healing too?"

"I've been helping President Coin, developing things to help our people against the Capitol. I can't walk much but I use my mind and contribute the best I can," he eyes me gently and I find it remarkable how relaxed he is with District Thirteen and everything that happened after the Quell.

"I learned to read," I strain out, sounding like a child, failing to outdo an older sibling by a comic amount. But really, what have I done? Sit in bed, cry, try to kill myself, and cry. Everyone thinks I am a lost cause, probably even Beetee.

"Keep getting better Finnick," he pushes on one of his wheels, "President Coin is doing an announcement today, why don't you walk with me?" We start off down the hall, further than I've ever been allowed to go. Beetee presses something into my hands, a small length of rope, "Forgive me, but I've seen you tying knots before – mostly at various Hunger Games. I made this bet, you see, with someone in Command – I claimed that you could make half a million knots on that rope. Do you think you can do it? It's not much, just you carrying it around and making knots whenever you feel like it."

My twitching and fidgeting stops when we enter into the elevator, "I can do it," my voice is still quiet but it gets drowned out anyways by the screeching of the machine. I take the new rope and begin looping it around into tight stretches and loose ones. A smile cracks through my lips, "There, look at that Prim," I show her the knot, "It once took your sister thirty minutes to do that."

Beetee pushes away after bidding me a farewell and I am escorted to stand near some of the other hospital patients. I've never met this "President Coin" nor do I have any clue why we're all gathered. My hands continue knotting the rope into lengths as Katniss comes over to stand near me.

"Hey, Finnick," I know she says my voice but I'm still not able to turn my attention to her. She starts again, this time bumping into me and releasing me from whatever other world was holding me, "Finnick!"

"Oh," my voice comes out desperate as I grab her arm, glad to see someone looking so familiar amongst this new sea of faces, "I'm glad to see you, Katniss."

She gives me a light smile, "I told President Coin to put all the old victors on the list of those who would be immune from indictment."

My heart starts racing as she mentions the words. Yes, Annie is in the Capitol. This will help her. I've thought about it and its been plaguing my mind, that I might not be able to defend what Annie says or does without me, I turn back to Katniss, "That's a relief, I've been wondering about Annie... thank you, Katniss."

The girl slinks off with her hair bouncing behind her, I bite into my lip as I start a new knot. New location. Freedom. Talks about real world things. All these situations are being thrown into my face and I'm not being eased back into reality – I'm diving right in. Maybe they have a use for me all of a sudden.

This woman begins speaking, gray, sleek hair and a firm voice, "Katniss Everdeen has agreed to be our Mockingjay under the condition that the victors being held in the Capitol will be immune from any of their crimes against our cause. This includes, Peeta Mellark, Johanna Mason, and Annie Cresta."

I immediately freeze upon the mention of her name and it takes several minutes for me to convince myself it's a good thing she was alluded to. A different doctor, not Prim, takes me back upstairs with some of the other patients. I don't listen to the rest of the speech, instead I continue on the knots and fill my head with numbers, five knots, seven knots, twenty-five knots, and so on.

As the next few days wear on, I am weaned off of medications and more of my bandages come off – someone even comes in to pick at my old stitches. Now that my body has healed itself I am free to walk around and start working on clearing my head – building myself back up.

"Finnick," my name is said and I look up, this time trying to place the time and my location. This knot exercise has done it's job, keeping me from real world problems and instead trapping me in a world where continually knotting something is helpful. The voice comes closer, "Finnick," a hand is thrown my way, "My name is Fulvia Cardew and I'm helping win the media war we have against the Capitol in riling up the Districts."

I am hesitant at first, to shake the outstretched fingers, but I place down my rope and do shake it. Maybe I am interesting all of a sudden, useful even? Why else would someone who is clearly not from Thirteen be seeking me?

"Why don't you come with me, there's a lot we can do to win this and I feel that utilizing you and Katniss will really help," she stands me up and walks me alongside her, "You see we're just downstairs, filming a promotional video of Katniss. I think you'd be of assistance in showing her how to appear well on screen and maybe if you're up for it you can film for us as well."

I'm in the elevator again but this time everything passes by in a much more dazed rate. It's as if I'm seeing things only after they've been there for a few moments, nothing is fresh. This is probably due to the replacement drug, the one that is supposed to help me kick my Morphling addiction – though this stuff is just as nice sometimes.

We pass through the set and no one makes a big deal about me being there, they run past me with outfits, makeup, and orders. No one pulls me aside to dress me or put me in a new outfit, I'm really just here to watch. Maybe this is another medication they're trying, forcing me to see other people who have their lives together. I take the rope again and wrap it around my fingers as I try to stay out of the way. But everything is still so fuzzy that I end up knocking into things here and there and having to stare at others a few moments before I can register their distance from me.

"We fight, we dare," a voice comes in over a microphone, "we end this hunger for justice!"

It's not very convincing, the words seem timid amid their message. Several people bicker but I can't really focus on the conversation until Katniss passes by me. I stop her with a smile, she's one of the only faces I like to see down here, "Katniss, you're filming these videos?"

"Yeah," she looks up to me a moment, trying to place her words, "I'm not really good at it."

I laugh, "Katniss they'll love you no matter what. They'll either want to kiss you, kill you, or be you."

Someone walks over to pull her back onto the set but I can catch her smile as she moves away. Another person offers me a chair and I sit in it, probably not in the most proper way since I'm still in my patient outfit but I could care less.

It takes several hours and I must have been deemed useless again since no one ever asked for my opinions. Though, judging by Haymitch and Katniss' blowup I'm apparently not the only one messing up. Katniss walks away with a few final remarks to her old mentor only to stop over by me. She invites me to lunch and since I'd rather go without asking than be told "no" I follow her upstairs.

Together, we enter the dining hall, a place I haven't yet visited. Several people mill about and get their food. Katniss grabs her tray and mine without even waiting for my actions. We join her cousin Gale at one of the tables.

"How did the filming go?" The dark haired boy turns to Katniss as he picks at his meal.

She pokes at the food just as much as he does, "I don't want to talk about it."

"So," he prods for more out of the girl, "what should we talk about?"

Katniss shrugs, she looks perfectly normal with all the makeup still piled on. She stuffs something gooey into her mouth and turns to me, "How have you been doing, Finnick?"

I take a moment to place the words, "I'm fine," I look away and try to find my District Four humor that will help make all of this easier, "I've just been thinking about Annie and Johanna... even some of the other victors who might still be in the Districts. I wish," my voice falters and I try to pick it up again, "I wish I could just go out, fight, give myself up, whatever it might take to end all of this."

The two District Twelve natives take turns casting glances at me, it's like they're communicating telepathically. Katniss responds first, "I know how you feel. These people don't know what it's like to play mental games... sometimes the easiest thing to do is to give up. But we have to stay strong, Finnick," she quickly adds something in that must be to convince herself of her own words, "for Annie and Peeta."

She's right. About everything, though I'm someone who has known this for little less than half my life already. Just like Beetee, Katniss is calm and collected, so much better than I am. I guess being the Mockingjay means she doesn't have us much time to heal. And really, I'm no Mockingjay – I'm practically the face of the Capitol.

"We haven't met," Gale holds out his hand to me, it's stiff, but I can tell in his eyes he feels sorry for me. Honestly one of the best things about this hospital gown might be that it demands sympathy. I take his hand and shake it, though my grip isn't as steady as his, "I'm Gale Hawthorne."

"Finnick Odair."

"You're from District 4? They're pretty valuable in the rebellion, lot of people who are fighting pretty strongly – and they were the first to rebel," he nods over to Katniss, "This girl says a lot of good things about you... and a lot of interesting things."

I turn to Katniss, suddenly finding the whole conversation humorous, "Oh yeah? What types of interesting things?"

He shakes his head, "I don't pretend to understand... something about sugar cubes?"

Katniss shakes her head trying not to grin, I smile back at her. It's nice to know that we have some inside jokes of our own to fall back on. The Girl on Fire turns her attention back to me, "Gale, tell him about what the people in the Command are planning."

"Oh, well, it won't happen for a long time... but we're thinking when the Districts are all won or close to it we'd go into the Capitol and rescue the victors. Thought you might like to know," his wrist starts to beep, "They want all of us in Command."

"All of us?" Katniss is obviously confused since I am the outlier to this plan.

"Yeah," he nods over to me as I pick up my rope, "It says all of us."

"I'll wait here until he's done eating," she waves her cousin off like it's nothing of importance and waits for me to finish the soup I've barely touched. It has fish in it, but none that District Four would ever take credit for catching – it's so horrible we wouldn't even feed it to the livestock.

It feels weird eating in silence so I try to pick up conversation again, "Your cousin is pretty nice."

Her eyes furrow as a grin lightens on her face, "My cousin?" At the mere thought of something so obscure she lets out a laugh, "Finnick, the cameras made that up since I was supposed to be in love with Peeta... and having that man as my friend would come out as suspicious."

"So you love him?"

"I'm not even thinking about it right now, there are more important things," she looks at my bowl, "You done?"

"Sure."

With that the two of us head off to command my first time being in the special part of Thirteen. Tall, muscular men stand around intermingling with several people who must be from the Capitol due to their genetically altered features. The lady with the gray hair stands with Plutarch and Haymitch as does the woman who came to see me about Katniss' promotional video.

When Katniss enters the room she seems to silence it and the meeting moves to a start. They're arguing about her filming ability once more, trying to figure out why she's so horrible. Then it turns into a game almost, to figure out what moments in particular made us feel connected to Katniss or riled up.

I speak up and seem to startle everyone, maybe they think I'm going to babble out some suicidal threat again. But I don't, I know when Katniss made me feel for her. When Peeta hit the force field, when she cried for Prim like I do for Annie. I mention a different instance though, "When Katniss took Mags on her shoulders as the fog was attacking us. I really appreciated that and could never think of the words to explain how she made me felt that day."

Haymitch stares over at me, probably trying to calculate where I am on the mental scale. Someone writes down my contribution and feel accomplished, as if I really added something. And it is apparently true because as the meeting wears on I get asked to do a new propo, a "We Remember" styled one where I talk about tributes I knew or witnessed, fallen victors. It seems easy enough and actually giving me things to look forward to seem to being doing wonders in distracting me.


Thanks for reviewing and continuing to follow, I appreciate it!