Chapter 65: Finnick Odair

The sun is beginning to rise over Victors' Island the morning of the Reaping for the 75th Hunger Games. Wearing his shirt that manages to hang just halfway down her creamy thighs, Annie breathes shakily as she rests her hands lightly on her lover's bare chest, their breaths mingling. They had managed to go nearly all night in several rounds, pouring out their anguish to each other in raw lovemaking. But now the day is here, and the Victor of the 70th Hunger Games is visibly trembling as she leans into her lover, the Victor of the 65th.

"Kiss me…." she breathes, sounding so broken and lost that how can Finnick do anything else but crush his lips to hers, kissing her the way that all the handsome movie actors do in the old films? She melts up into him, soft and pliant and very willing, and he'd take her right here on her kitchen island if they likely didn't have only minutes left together before the Peacekeepers come.

When they break apart tenderly, Annie lets out a terrified squeak again and dashes to the window, seizing a spyglass that Finnick received as a gift from a fan and which somehow made its way over here; he's practically moved in with her. Putting it to her eye, she scans out the window. The Victors' Village is set on the highest point of the island, so from any one of the mansions, you can see for miles. Even down to the wharf. Making her sweep, Annie finally stills, and Finnick feels his heart hammer inside his chest as his true love staggers back, dropping the spyglass with a THUD and it rolls away across the floor.

"Oh, my Snow, they've just docked! I can see the uniform whites!" She draws both hands to her lovely mouth, and Finnick nearly breaks himself when he detects the whimper in her voice. "Finny…. They're coming…"

He has to be strong for her. Failure to do so is not an option. He has to protect her, all the way to the end, whatever that may be. Failure in this is especially not an option.

Finnick is well aware of what is probably about to happen, and it's been hard to lie to Annie about it, but he has done so to protect her. Rigged Reapings exist, there's no way they don't, even if such existence has never been confirmed. Now, with a Quell requiring that past Victors be Reaped, the rigging will likely be all the easier.

But Annie can't know that. If Finnick has his way, neither of them will have to go back, but that's unlikely. But, in the discussions he's had with Poseidon and Rusher and Ariel, maybe…

"All right, listen to me," he croons, lightly rubbing her smooth arms. "Go upstairs to our bedroom. Sit down on the bed. Tell me when you're there."

Annie nods shakily and flits up the stairs. Finnick waits, wanting to go for his trident just so he's ready. It will take the officers a good ten minutes to ascend up to the Village, even by trucks. He can make it.

"I'm here," Annie finally calls down.

"OK," he relays to her. "The next part is very important…" And here he swallows hard. "They're going to take you."

Annie lets out a truly haunting wail, and he scales halfway up the staircase to shush her. "You can be as emotional as you want, baby; I know this is hard. But under no circumstances are you to resist. Annie, do you understand me? Scream and cry all you want to, but let them escort you to the mainland and the Square. Hopefully, probably, they'll keep us all together, and Mags, Ariel and I will be with you the entire time. OK?"

"OK," she weeps, voice small.

Finnick takes a deep breath, backing away. He has to be back in his mansion before they get here. Neither he nor Annie need more people knowing about their affair – the more people who know, the more people who could use that relationship against them during the Games. He had panicked when Ariel Angler had walked in on them making out one morning, and he trusted Ariel with his life. "I'm going across the street now. I'll see you soon. And Annie? … I love you."

"I love you!" she whimpers, desperately.

He resists dashing up the stairs to give her one last kiss, instead bounding out the door and springing like a gazelle back into his own mansion directly across the street. He kills the last little bit of time by brewing some seaweed coffee and pouring it into a mug, sitting at his table and lounging sultrily in the chair. When they all come, he will have to act like being tossed back to the mutts absolutely doesn't bother him, when in fact it does and he's barely able to keep from shaking with rage. The sense of betrayal is more on Annie's behalf than his own, for he knows that Snow was not pleased when she won five years ago… and that was before her district partner got beheaded and she was shook. She had lost her head and some of the fierceness that had led her to kill four tributes in the Bloodbath.

That ferocity could resurface, however, sometimes. Finnick grins like a loon as he recalls their first kiss. It was in the middle of a fight; she had been reaming him out for something – at the moment, he can't remember what it was about – and she had looked so beautiful with her red hair flipping about her shoulders like tongues of flame and her sea-green eyes flashing that he'd suddenly crowded her up against her door and kissed her breathless. To both her shock and his own, she had completely swooned and kissed him back, and they only got a hold of themselves after his lips found themselves on her lower ones and she had cum with a happy cry on his face.

The sharp knock on the door jolts him from his thoughts, nearly making him spill his coffee, but he just raises it to his lips and puts on a masterfully unconcerned performance as the SWAT team of officers proceeds to kick his door in. Within moments, he's surrounded, guns cocked, and Finnick eases slowly out of the chair, setting the mug down, reaching for the sky in surrender. He's sporting his smooth playboy grin the entire time.

"Morning, gents. What's the occasion?"

"Cut the crap, Odair. You're coming with us," one growls, manhandling him and manipulating him to place his hands behind his back. Finnick almost jumps him. Almost. Except that wouldn't help Annie.

He's forced out onto his front stoop, same as the eight others in the Village, who have their own squadrons surrounding them. Predictably, Annie is the only one who is moving, thrashing and kicking and screaming while pinned between two white soldiers. He masks a wince. He told her not to resist, but the officers actually seem to be displaying restraint when it comes to her. The lovers' eyes meet from across the street.

I love you. I love you, Finnick telepathically tries to relay to her. You're the first woman I ever actually truly wanted, I love you so much…

The group meet in the center of the Village and are lined up in order of Victory. Four is probably one of the only districts, except for maybe Six, that still has all of its Victors still alive for its "existing pool." Mags is first, the officers almost gently holding her arms so she can remain upright with her cane. Poseidon follows, then Marina, then Rusher, then Cerulea, then Ariel, him, Ron Stafford and Annie last of all. Finnick can't get a good look at her with Ron between them, so he just has to hope his lover's holding up OK.

They depart the Village at a goosestep, loaded like inmates into the trucks parked just past the Village gates. The descent down to the harbor is a ten-minute drive, whereupon they are all loaded out and hustled down into the hull of a Panemian Coast Guard boat; there are bars on the portholes. Finnick is surprised the officers dispensed with chaining them all together. He certainly feels more like a prisoner-of-war now than perhaps the most popular recent Victor alive.

The ferrying across to the mainland passes in uniform silence. Marina and Cerulea hover around Mags protectively. Poseidon is leaning his head back against the ship's hull, eyes closed, and Finnick can't tell whether he's actually taking an old-person's nap or the legend well past 70 is just scared out of his mind like the rest of them are. Rusher has his head between his bouncing knees; until him, Finnick has never before met a District 4 man who actually gets seasick. Violently, grossly seasick. Annie is resting her head on Ariel's shoulder, the latter girl stroking her hair. Ron Stafford has his arms folded and is scowling petulantly at something invisible on the hull's far wall; if his eyes were Capitol lasers, he could probably melt a hole in the steel that would flood the vessel and sink them all. It would be a quicker and better fate than where they're going. Finnick wants to tell his former tribute to knock it the hell off, except he can't exactly blame Ron's lack of control when it comes to his own anger. All the same, the Victor of the Sixty-Eighth may be a year older than Finnick himself (until this year, Finnick was probably the only person who had ever mentored a tribute who was actually older than him), yet Ron still acts like he's eighteen.

The PCG sweep boat finally makes landfall at the marina, and they all file out again, back to marching single file through the fishing towns and up to the Justice Building stage. Their escort, Sharknado Bickerstaff (yes, he actually, legally changed his name to reflect the character in a really lame district B movie), bounces up to the Reaping bowls exuberantly, his Capitol cosmetically altered shark head orienting his eyes creepily to the sides. Those same eyes that now give the creepy guy the added benefit of being able to see all the Victors at once.

"Who's ready for the Hunger Games: All-Star Edition?" Sharknado crows, his voice the pitch-perfect example of a dumbass surfer dude. "Cha, man! Cha! Radical!"

Finnick lifts his head to the sky, praying to all the Sea Gods for strength. He isn't prepared for how quickly Sharknado starts the Reaping; the Mayor doesn't even bother to recite the Treaty of Treason or list all their names.

"The female tribute from District 4…. Annie Cresta, the Victor of the 70th Hunger Games."

He fucking knew it.

Annie immediately starts screaming and hysterically sobbing as the Peacekeepers approach to move her into place. It takes everything Finnick has not to fight everyone on the stage just to get to her.

But then suddenly, Mags is frantically raising her hand, even moving out of her place in line and giving Sharknado a kick so the idiot clues in.

"What…? – Oh, ho, it looks like we have a volunteer!" the escort crows, and the Peacekeepers immediately switch targets to flank Mags, the Victor of the 11th. Finnick's eyes fill with tears at her selflessness. Poseidon now looks like he also really wants that fight they're all itching to jump into with these Capitol traitors. Finnick just keeps still and waits for what he knows is to come, and still hoping that one of his three fellow guys might jump in to shield him. He's not a coward, he just hopes there is a way he doesn't have to go back in, now without Annie, so they can stay together. He knows Ron won't do it; they aren't close enough for that. But maybe Poseidon or Rusher might…?

"The male tribute from District 4…. Finnick Odair, the Victor of the 65th Hunger Games!"

His Capitol face is back on, as he beams and waves confidently to the crowd. Though he does allow himself one moment of vulnerability when he draws Mags close and presses a grateful kiss into her crown.

"You're a Snowdamn, heroic badass, Mother Mags," he tells her. "You're a Snowdamn hero…"

Later, on the train, they are all together. As a Career district, Finnick and Mags will have enough for multiple mentors. There are nine of them total, and with what is about to go down, Finnick has a feeling they'll need all nine, just like a cat needs all of its nine lives.

At the moment, he really wishes he was a cat, but he's already managed to get to his second life and there's a solid 50-50 chance that that life is about to run out.

The Victors watch the other Reapings together. In a reversal, Ron will now be Finnick's mentor, with Rusher acting as his second. Poseidon apparently has other things on his plate, but when Finnick and the Victor of the 16th share a look, they don't speak any words. Finnick knows what the old man's "other business" is about, and he just hopes the badass codger knows what he's doing.

Ron freezes the TV at the tail-end of the Reaping for the Twelves, shaking his head, even as next to him, Rusher is actually breathing a sigh of relief.

"Snowdamn it. I really wanted Abernathy…"

"What the fuck for?" Finnick snorts. "He's a Quell Victor himself, who won against a field worth two arenas. You would've really wanted him watching Fire Girl's six?"

"Ol' Abernathy can't do a damn thing when he's drunk, and he's especially useless when he's on withdrawal. But now we've got Mellark back covering his girl's tight, pretty little ass, and the Star-Crossed Lovers are going to steal all the media attention away…"

Finnick can't help it. He bursts into laughter. Ron is frowning hard, his entire face creased in befuddlement. "Why the fuck are you laughing? What about this is funny to you?"

"Oh, you stupid son-of-a-bitch…" And Finnick has to actually wipe an amused tear from his eye. "Don't you get it? The Star-Crossed Lovers is FAKE! It's all fake! It's not real! Fake news! Does Katniss Everdeen really look to you like the kind of girl who would spread her legs for any pretty little rich boy in her life? Snow, she's probably a lesbian! Or maybe she's asexual!" He scans the faces of all his other Victors, his confidence dimming a little when he sees more dissent than agreement. Even Annie is shaking her head. Yes, he knows they have their own fairytale love story – as fairytale-ish as it can be, anyway – but he wants to gently warn her not to be so naïve.

"She doesn't love him," he declares. "There's no way. She's not the actress Mellark is, and Mellark at least makes you half-believe he wants the woman." Still no endorsements from the others, and it starts to make him mad. "I'll prove it to you!" he vows rashly. "I'll expose how Katniss feels nothing for Peeta; you'll see!"

He has to eat his words later. He manages to get Katniss all flustered when he flirts with her at the parade, which gives him some hope his theory is correct. He could try to seduce her; she's nice enough to look at, and not that much younger than him, except it wouldn't be fair to Annie. It's hard enough seeing his clientele on visits to the city; Finnick couldn't live with himself if he was willingly unfaithful to his girl, even if Everdeen does look like she's never been "broken in."

But then, they're thrown into the arena and Mellark practically skips into a force field like a dopey Disney prince, and gives himself a heart attack.

Apparently, he gives Katniss one too.

She goes into absolute hysterics that would make even Annie blush with embarrassment, and the Seam girl even tries to fight with Finnick when he intervenes to resuscitate her on-camera boy-toy. He does it, but it's a close thing, and when Katniss bends over Peeta, kissing him again and again and her tears falling on him like sweet rain, Finnick has to wonder if the whole damn thing really is true, even the baby bomb. Fire Girl is certainly crying like she's hormonal and knocked up.

Katniss lifts her head and catches Finnick staring between them. The District 4 Victor obfuscates his emotionally vulnerable, real face, helps Peeta to his feet, and they set off again.