Katniss could count the people she trusted on one hand and that was before most of them had died at the hands of the Capitol and the Revolution. To trust someone was asking her to open parts of herself, the most vulnerable parts, that she had closed off even before the explosion that ended Prim and Peeta's lives. Letting someone into the most private parts of her grief was something she wouldn't do easily.
Looking into Finnick's eyes as he held her gaze she saw what she knew was reflected in her own. Pain, anger, sadness, loss, and regret, but there was something else, something that glinted below the surface. Hope.
There shining in those sea green eyes beyond every injustice that had been thrust upon him was a belief that things would be better. It was the faith that somehow, someway, they could make it through. That they could survive, and possibly even thrive in this new world. Even when everything had been taken from him he was pulling himself through each day, relentlessly striving to keep himself together.
Both had done whatever it took to survive and keep their loved ones safe. Both martyrs in their own right and both the only ones left. They were the same. The only difference was Finnick still believed.
The fact that he could try to carve out a life for himself was in stark contrast to Katniss's method of avoidance and self flagellation.
Prim's voice echoed inside her head, as it had many times before, urging her to take the leap. Telling her to let him, or anyone, in. That even though Katniss had failed to protect her Prim still wanted to see her flourish.
Katniss considered what he had said before, that shutting down was a disservice to Prim, Peeta and everyone who had died so that they could live. Is this the life she would have wanted for any of them? To live no life at all?
She heard Peeta inside her head too. Her boy with the bread telling her she deserved to be happy. He loved her unconditionally and in the end he had given his life to try and bring her sister home. What would he had thought of her method of coping? Had she let them die for nothing?
Katniss begrudgingly admitted to herself that Finnick was right. If anyone was capable of understanding her and the roller coaster of emotions she felt everyday, it was him. Mags, tributes lost in the quarter Quell, along with countless others that had died while he helplessly watched. Not to mention Annie. He carried the same weight, if not more, and yet there was hope left in him.
She had never been a mentor, forced to watch her tributes slaughtered in the games year after year. Still she thought of all those inspired by the Mockingjay. All the deaths incurred in her name. Wasn't she responsible for that? Even if her image had liberated Panem, weren't all of those deaths on her hands?
Was there any way to move past the guilt that she was alive when the most important were not?
When she looked into Finnick's eyes she could almost believe that maybe there was. Her fellow Victor, ally, and friend. If they faced it together then maybe it was possible to make something of their existence. Together they could give some justice to those lost too soon.
She knew she would never see the innocence of the world through Prim's eyes or it's beauty through Peeta's, but maybe she could get through everyday without her ever present crutch.
The time that passed in the kitchen seemed to span forever although it only lasted a few seconds. Finnick's gaze never wavered and perhaps that was what gave Katniss the courage to whisper "I'll try."
He looked at her intently for a second more before giving her a small smile and straightening up. Without a breath passing between them he grabbed the bottle and dumped it down the drain. She cast one more look at Buttercup, still sitting at her feet, before she stood up as well. She ignored the pang in her heart that she knew would come with every swish of his tail.
Finnick walked to the living room and turned on the television, tuning the channel to one with music. "Rule number one, stop suffering in silence, there is no better way to let yourself drown than to let those voices in your head be the only thing you listen to."
Without a word she began picking up the pieces of broken plates in the sink. She thought how they so well represented her. At first glance some were broken simply in half and easily put back together but the deeper she went the more shattered they were. Some pieces lost forever.
Finnick's words in 13 flashed through her mind, "It takes ten times longer to put yourself back together than it does to fall apart." She had fallen apart, how long would it take her? She doubted she would ever be whole again.
Her grief was still crushing her but with Finnick's presence it seemed somehow more bearable. It was as if he had taken part of her burden and put it on himself.
He seemed content with the silence and had also decided to keep with the cleaning as he grabbed a rag and moved into the living room.
She followed silently, worried that her voice would betray the anguish coursing through her veins. How did this work? Was the agreement itself supposed to lessen the pain? Where did she start?
Finnick started on the coffee table by wiping away the dust from the bombing, leaving only the gleaming stone behind. She followed his lead by wiping away the thick layer that covered the table behind the large sofa.
He stopped when he saw a picture of a young Katniss on an end table. Pictures were rare in District 12; mostly for school and the picture he was looking at now. They had required a photo for her records when she came of reaping age.
Katniss cringed as he studied it. She had never thought of herself as remarkable, especially in the looks department, but she became self conscious under Finnick's scrutiny. Her hair was in two plaited braids, wearing the same dress Prim had worn to her first reaping. She looked older because of the tight line of her smile and the hardness in her eyes. She was a child already aware that the world was survival of the fittest, ready to crush her the first chance it got.
He simply grinned and placed the frame back on the table. She was thankful for his silence, not goading or resentful, just content to exist in the space she held. They worked methodically around the living room until it shined like the day she had walked in, freshly crowned as a Victor.
Haymitch allowed himself a small smile as he closed the door to Katniss's house and made his way home. He knew that losing Peeta would destroy her but losing Prim with him had sent her over the edge. He knew it would induce a recklessness in her that would inevitably end in calamity. As much as people claimed to know her, he was fully aware that not one of them ever really bothered to understand her.
Except maybe Plutarch.
Clever bastard.
He, like Plutarch, was not taken by surprise when she had put an arrow through Coin's heart. It was why he had agreed to another Hunger Games in the first place. He was under no illusion that what Coin wanted to happen was exactly what Katniss wasn't going to allow. He had even expected her attempted suicide, stopped only by Finnick's hand.
Unfortunately, he had never thought that she would turn to drinking her pain away. "The true coward's way out", he thought.
He had practiced it himself for years before she had come along. He had went along with it because he thought it would pass. She was too strong to let herself be dragged under. Surprisingly, she had seemed content to live the rest of her life as he had. "Wasted."
Finnick had been his last ditch effort to bring her back to herself. He was hoping to give the Girl on Fire a chance at life, at any kind of life that wasn't at the bottom of a bottle.
Both were children who had been used and laid bare, tossed aside when they had served their purpose. They could move on and maybe even live fulfilling lives, but there were some scars that would never heal.
Finnick had been her only constant in District 13. He was just as lost as she was but they were better when they were together. Each one holding the other up, pushing each other forward. Both of them too damn stubborn to let the other fall.
He was also aware that despite Finnick's objections to the contrary, he was not in fact okay. That boy was broken too, as was the carefully constructed wall he had built. It was going to break.
Draining the remaining liquor from his flask he nodded to himself. They were stronger together.
They started on the study next. While Katniss had blanched at the pile of letters and packages waiting for her at the very same desk Snow had threatened everyone she had ever loved Finnick had moved swiftly. He piled them together and set them in a corner to be dealt with another time. Sae must have given up taking the mail to her at Haymitch's house as she thought of the other pile waiting for her next to his fireplace.
Katniss and Finnick spent the remainder of the afternoon steadily working through the rest of the house, bypassing Prim's room. Katniss wasn't sure she would ever be able to face the memories of her Little Duck behind that door.
When they finished Finnick made them a tray of sliced meats and cheese and leftover fruit from breakfast. They kept the conversation light, with Finnick telling Katniss stories of the beach and the ocean.
How he could just sit in the sand and stare at the water for hours, that every pull of the waves called to him. The way that no matter what imperfections he put into the sand the tide would come and make it perfect again. How calming it was to just float weightless in the water and let the ocean carry him, sometimes so far out that he could barely see land.
It made Katniss happy to see him light up when he talked about it, his hands became animated and a smile danced across his face. She did wonder silently how he could talk about home so easily when all of those memories had to be entwined with memories of Annie. Although he hadn't mentioned her Katniss figured she was always at the forefront of his mind.
Instead he told her about the shells he liked to collect and how his father had taught him to sail. He told her there was nothing like being out in the open ocean, no one else around for miles.
They cleaned up lunch together while Katniss told him about District 12. Well as much as she could without bursting into tears. She told him about the Hob and Sae's stew. About Madge and how she had given her the Mockingjay pin, the symbol of a Revolution. Even Peeta's father and the cookies he had given her.
She didn't dare speak Prim's name for fear of losing whatever sense of harmony they had achieved today. But it felt nice to just have someone there with her, someone who had no expectations and let her move at her own pace.
They spent the rest of the afternoon looking through the catalog of supplies that could be ordered. Even though it was something so simple it really hit Katniss that this was only possible because of them.
There was anything you could imagine to order from food to a new table lamp. Supplies from every district available to every district. The way it should have always been, it left a warm feeling rushing through her.
Sae had appeared at dinner time with Daisy in tow, she came in cautiously but her face broke into a smile when she saw the two Victors laughing at the kitchen table. She had brought pork chops, potatoes, and asparagus.
Katniss helped her prepare dinner and Finnick entertained Daisy with her dolls. Haymitch never appeared, apparently preferring to drink his meal.
Over dinner Katniss learned more of things she had missed. Rebuilding of the District was going at a slow but steady pace. The Hob would be turned into a real shopping area. The meadow she had picked dandelions in years ago had been turned into a mass grave for over 9,000. Katniss had gasped at that and only Finnick grabbing her hand under the table had stopped her from running away.
It seemed Finnick wasn't the only one who wanted to remind Katniss that her sacrifices had not been in vain, though Sae seemed to do so in a much more direct way. She knew had to know these things, she couldn't hide forever and Sae had assumed better she hear them from her than it catching her by surprise.
There were also plans to build memorials in all of the Districts and the Capitol. A Congress has been elected, made up of people from all Districts, and they were working together to build a stronger, fairer Panem. They would not waste this opportunity, or try to gain from it as Coin would have.
Katniss hadn't spoken much and she held Finnick's hand tightly throughout the rest of the meal, but Sae managed to pepper the bad news in with the good.
After cleaning up Sae had bid them goodnight and took Daisy home promising to return for breakfast.
With nothing left for them do Finnick had convinced Katniss to sit in the living room and watch one of the cooking shows that had begun airing on the the tv, telling her that they couldn't count on Sae to cook for them forever. Katniss tried not to read into the fact that the statement meant he was planning to stay for awhile.
They made their way onto the couch and Katniss halfheartedly watched the program, hosted by a charismatic woman that promised feasts to delight the taste buds. Eventually she laid down with her head resting in Finnick's lap. He absentmindedly stroked her hair while watching one of the contestants catch his oven on fire.
They were both content for now. Although lulls like this usually meant reliving their greatest horrors somehow they calmed each other, keeping the worst memories at bay. Keeping each other minds off of the horrors that dragged them down.
For the first time in as long as Katniss could remember she felt at peace. There were no regrets, no monsters, no mutts. Just a calmness that settled around her like a warm blanket.
She wasn't sure when she had fallen asleep, but she woke long enough to feel Finnick lift her into his arms and carry her upstairs to her room.
He shushed her as he tucked her into the bed and settled into the chair he had somehow found time to move next her to bed.
"Get some rest Kitten, the real work starts tomorrow."