Chapter Twelve
Where they head home.
Rayne's body was retrieved from the Arena. The moment that the hovercraft swooped down over the Cornucopia, Annie could hear Finnick screaming for her to run while the Careers were distracted. She darted away from the feast as fast as she could, ignoring the fight that resumed behind her. No one bothered to come after her.
Annie was in an unfamiliar section of the forest when she stopped and dropped to the ground. She spun around and around, panicked, and searched for something that she knew. In the distance, she could hear the Careers break open the crates from the feast. She hadn't made it far enough away from them. The girl crouched in a patch of bushes, well concealed by leaves and branches. She listened to their muffled, disgruntled tones as they examined their prizes. Two cannons sounded in the sky, but there was no telling whose they were.
Her heartbeat was throbbing in the inner caverns of her ears. She closed her eyes tightly, trying her hardest not to drive herself mad like she had with Cael and Hollis. But Rayne's words were clinging to her and she couldn't forget them. She listened to him beg her to give his apologizes to his sister, his thanks and appreciation to Mags. Half of her wanted to crawl from her spot and doggy-paddle across the river – because she was certain that was all that was all she could manage – to retrieve the communicator. The more rational, intelligent sliver of her brain that somehow remained untouched by nightmares and the Games overall decided to pipe up and tell her to stay put, it knew the Careers would be searching for her soon. Annie sat and listened to the drum of her heart. Her head reeled sickly.
She paid no mind to her aching body or her thoughts, the nightmares that swam through her mind on a current of pure terror. She didn't think of how this reminded her of watching Finnick's Games, how he tore straight through people with his trident. She didn't worry about losing her life. Annie, in a sane corner of her mind, was listening to her mother read her fairytales from the old storybook and relearn how to tie knots with her father and watching her brothers roughhouse in the living room the way they used to when they were eligible for the Games and needed the practice. That was what kept her from running towards the remaining Careers and begging to be killed.
She couldn't tell how much time had passed, but Annie was ripped from her thoughts by the rumbling of earth. Trees shook overhead violently and Annie was digging her fingers into the soft ground below her just to remain sitting up. Her eyes flashed and her vision blurred. The world spun around her, it whizzed past her eyes before she could focus. Annie found it hard to breathe and drowned in her horror. The ground trembled, only growing more intense with the passing minutes.
Finnick's forehead was pressed against the television screen as he leaned forward and his eyes couldn't be ripped away from the broadcast if his life depended on it. With only three competitors left in the Arena, the Capitol didn't offer the option to follow a specific tribute and he was forced to watch the male Careers tear each other open as they struggled to overpower the other. He hadn't seen Annie in hours. Hours.
Mags' hand rested on his quivering shoulder. The elderly woman was distraught after the loss of her tribute, her eyes were frazzled and her hair was pulled in every which direction, yet she was trying to do her best to keep Finnick calm. Annie was so close to home, she knew he could practically feel her running into his arms on the hovercraft, but so far away. She rubbed out the tense knots in his back reassuringly, weakly.
The cameras in the Arena shook, some even blacked out entirely. Finnick's heart skipped a beat and his breath hitched. The term for what was happening rested on the tip of his tongue, but the fear that had enthralled him kept it locked within his mouth. Finnick pounded his fists into the television screen. It was an earthquake. The Gamemakers sent an earthquake. Where was Annie? "Annie Cresta!" he screamed desperately and hit the screen again.
Several of the crates broke open around the Cornucopia, revealing stiff orange vests that were too familiar to him. They were the type kept on the boats in the bay; they were required to be worn at all times on the water by the Peacekeepers. The Capitol had sent the remaining tributes life vests because none of them knew how to swim. Finnick's heart plummeted. His eyes widened. The final hours of the Games were coming upon them, and the earthquake wasn't going to be the worst of it.
"Annie Cresta!" he screamed again, repeatedly now. Finnick banged his forehead against the television screen in frustration. His blood coursed through him hotter and faster with panic, like an unstoppable train that rushed down the tracks. "Annie!"
The cameras cut to the girl. She was biting her lip furiously and her hands were searching for handfuls of dirt. Finnick's heart was struck sickeningly. While her eyes were closed, he could read her expression too easily. Annie was expecting to die. She was too calm to have any fight left in her. Her shoulders were hunched over and her breath was slow. "Fight!" he commanded her. "You've got to keep trying, Annie! Annie!"
The dark haired, disheveled girl was badly scraped up, but her injuries were not terribly severe. It killed Finnick to see her lean back against the tree overhead; she pressed her back into it to keep a firm grip on the rumbling earth. She wasn't trying anymore. Annie looked too calm.
"Annie!" he called to her again.
"Finnick!" said Mags. Her grip on his shoulder tightened and she used all of her dwindling strength to yank him back from the broadcast. Behind them, she heard the chuckles of the mentors of Iem and Pascal – two men from One and Two who she had names for but couldn't place correctly. She leaned to whisper in his ear. "She is going to know. She is going to make it. She is going to win."
Behind her, Mags heard the mentor from Two snort.
"Hey!" she snapped. Mags prodded the screen with an old, wrinkled finger. She smudged the spot over the Cornucopia. "Do you see what those are? Life vests! Do you think your tributes are smart enough to know how to use them? No! Annie's the only one who knows how to swim!"
Finnick released a miserable sound that was somewhere between a moan and a call for Annie. He reached helplessly for the screen.
It cut to Annie again. Finnick was captivated. Her slender fingers brushed her left hand and lingered on the silver band around her finger. His mouth fell open.
There was so many things that he hadn't had the chance to say to her. Suddenly it was like they hardly knew each other at all and Finnick was imagining all the time that they should have spent with each other. He never so purely wanted to be with another human being and now he was going to lose her.
The cameras flashed from Annie to the Careers to the force field that contained the tributes to the Arena. It flashed bright violet before dissolving altogether. In the blink of an eye, the earthquake had gone out of control and broken the barrier of the Games. From out of nowhere, water was coursing into the Arena. It swallowed the playing field whole and flooded every inch of ground from the river to the Cornucopia. It happened too fast. The Gamemakers cut to a close up of each tribute's face, cutting the screen into thirds.
Iem and Pascal wore the same panicked, hopeless expression.
Annie's expression was something between relieved and prepared. She looked as if she knew this was going to happen and was entirely ready for it. She was engulfed by the roaring waves and hidden from view. The cameras shifted underwater and showed Annie skillfully darting between trees and shrubs underwater. She knew how to swim in-tune with the current and showed that it was second nature to her.
Iem and Pascal struggled to do as much as doggy paddle to the Cornucopia. Neither of them even thought to grab onto one of the orange life vests being swept up on the waves. Their wrecked bodies slammed into the side of the Cornucopia, which was slowly being pushed over by the water. The Careers coughed up water and spit and even blood, tainting the waves.
Finnick drew back from the television screen. The broadcast room was entirely silent. The sound of the television broadcast had cut out. He was caught in an unknowing state, entirely unsure of the outcome of the Arena. All Finnick heard was the nervous thundering of his own pulse.
Two cannons sounded, shaking the Arena – one right after another.
Annie was now paddling along the water, darting around with the somewhat settled waves. Now that the water was calm, she rolled onto her back and floated still for a moment. The sunlight poured onto her face. She still wore a terrified expression. Annie didn't know what was going on.
Trumpets blared throughout the Arena and broke the silence in the broadcast room. The truth settled in. Finnick stared at the screen blankly.
"Ladies and gentlemen," boomed Claudius Templesmith. Finnick couldn't help but notice that the announcer sounded less enthusiastic than normal. "I present to you the winner of the Seventieth Hunger Games, Annie Cresta of District Four!"
Her head snapped out of the water as she bolted upright in shock. Annie was trembling.
Finnick breathed a sigh of relief and threw himself into Mags' open arms. "She did it," he told her in disbelief. Mags beamed, nodding. "She did it. She did it!"
"What'd I tell you?" said Mags. Over Finnick's shoulder, she watched a Capitol hovercraft swoop down over Annie and pluck her from the water. The screen cut to Claudius Templesmith and Caesar Flickerman when she reached to turn off the broadcast. There was nothing more to see. "She'll be here within the hour."
Annie was strapped to a silver examining table by thick belts at her shoulders, waist, and ankles. Her eyes darted uneasily across the room; it was an operating room that was filled with medical machines and tools that she didn't have names for. She could feel the purr of the hovercraft vibrating through the table. Annie was restless, yet she couldn't move. It was awful being restrained.
While everything was over, Annie was reliving everything from the beginning – starting from the Reaping. She was torn away from her parents and her brothers. Watching Rayne leave tiny Calypso at the Justice Building. The car ride to the train station. Being called Finnick's plaything. Finnick telling her she was too good for the Games on the train ride. Her prep team. Rea. Being painted for the parade. Naked in front of Finnick for Gossamer's twisted plan. Seeing the Careers for the first time. Tying knots with Hollis. The three. The interviews. The ring. The launch. The cornucopia. Swimming. Hollis and Cael. Hollis' death. Rayne sparing her. Cael's death. The white parachute and the communicator from Finnick. Her alliance with Rayne. Rayne's beheading. Going insane. The earthquake. And the swim that saved her life. It all flashed before her eyes repeatedly, like a broken record without an end. She wanted to scream. It all haunted her every thought.
There was no escape.
Her eyes fluttered open and closed as she struggled to remain conscious. Annie caught glimpses of plastic and wild colored doctors and nurses rushing around her. They prodded her with examining tools and stuck her with needles. The most that Annie felt was a slight pinch in the crease of her elbow, but nothing more. Her open scrapes were stung by the water and numbed her entire body.
Despite her strongest efforts to stay awake, Annie found herself slipping away after one of the nurses injected her with medicine rather than drawing blood like the rest had. Even in her unconscious state, she was haunted by her nightmares.
She woke again in another hospital room, strapped to another examining table, in almost an identical room to the one on the hovercraft. Annie's limbs tingled. It took her several minutes to blink away the horrifying images from her mind. She was coated in a sheer layer of sticky sweat and her muscles were stiff. Her restraints were tighter than before and she couldn't move in the slightest. Annie felt like screaming.
"Mentors don't normally come in this early," insisted a nurse in the hall. She sounded frantic. Footsteps shuffled. "You can't go in there. She isn't even conscious yet."
"Please." Finnick.
Finnick.
Annie's eyes widened. She opened her mouth to call for him but couldn't manage a sound. She turned her head towards the door, eyes calling for them while her words couldn't.
"Please," he repeated.
More footsteps. The door cracked open and a purple-haired nurse slipped inside and Finnick followed. Annie's excitement washed out of her system. The concern in his eyes morphed into hatred. His tenseness turned into anticipation. Finnick was in his Games again and staring her down. She screamed.
"Annie," he purred desperately as he grasped her hand. His sea green eyes flickered as he looked over her. Finnick ran his fingers over the back of her hand, he coaxed her into silence. Annie stared up at him in shock with her mouth hanging open. "Annie. Lovely. Annie."
She shook uncontrollably. His touch stung. Annie turned away from him, struck with fear.
"Annie. Annie, look at me," Finnick pleaded. She sucked in a sharp breath and turned her face to him. His incredible eyes drew her in. He patted her hand. Her mentor was on the verge of tears, though Annie didn't see it for what it was. "Hello, lovely."
Her green eyes brightened. Finnick watched her sink into her old self. "Finnick!" she chirped excitedly. Her voice cracked. "Finnick!" Her hands shook as she reached for him, fighting with all her might against the restraints.
Finnick ducked his head, hiding his face. A tear dribbled onto her hand. Annie watched him, controlling her breathing to keep from panicking. "Everything's okay now," he promised. His voice wavered weakly. "We're going to go home."
"District Four?" she gasped in disbelief. A smile tugged at Annie's lips. She was bubbling with happiness and excitement. "District Four?" Vance. Spensa. Fletcher. Nero. Penn. Her mother. Her father. And…Calypso. Her smile faded. Rayne. "Finnick…"
He reached up to smooth her hair back. "I know," Finnick murmured, sensing her distress. "We can call your parents on the train home. Things will get better. District Four."
She nodded stiffly. Annie's eyes darted to the smiling nurse standing behind Finnick and back. District Four. In her ears rang Rayne's last words, him begging her to tell his sister that he loved her. She wanted to cover her ears to block it out, she wanted to scream. But with Finnick standing over her and the restraints holding her to the examining table, she couldn't. "Finnick," she breathed, for it was the only word she could confidently manage.
"Why don't you step back out in the hall, Finnick," said the nurse.
No one came out of the Arena the same. Innocent children became murderers. The ones that had any possibility of recovering were used by the state, became Capitol prostitutes like Finnick. Or even worse. He thought of Johanna Mason and Haymitch Abernathy and how President Snow had killed off anyone that meant something to them when they refused to play his games. He quivered as he thought about what could happen to Annie. She wasn't strong minded like the rest of the victors. She didn't kill; she was too good for the Games. Annie was still a weak little girl. There was too much that President Snow could do to her.
"I would say that she has post-traumatic stress disorder," began the nurse calmly, "but it is only a form of it, since we don't know if she has thought of self-harm since the events of the Arena. She isn't going to be the same, Mr. Odair."
He knew that. Finnick was frozen and stared at the purple-haired nurse blankly. In his mind, he was formulating everything that he had heard President Snow had done to the victors. Families assassinated. Prostitution. Torture. Living with the Games on her shoulders would be enough to have Annie crumbling at the president's feet. The only true winner of the Games was always President Snow. Finnick's head was swirling with anger and he was desperate to now to know what was in store for his Annie.
"I know," he grunted. "No one ever is."
Her eyes dimmed sadly. "Other than that, she isn't banged up too bad. She can go once the doctor looks her over once more."
Finnick nodded.
"When you take her home, I suggest that you keep an eye on her for a bit longer. I don't think she should be left alone. We don't want her being a danger to herself."
"Of course," he agreed. Finnick could only imagine what kind of hell Annie would be going through for the next few months. He could hear her screams as she woke from nightmares from across the Victors' Village. He could see her just giving up one day during a swim and being swept under. He could feel her skin unnaturally cold under his fingertips. Finnick clenched his fists. He ducked back and peered around the doorframe into Annie's hospital room. She was calm and a bit too still.
"I'll go get the doctor then," said the nurse, slipping past him. "You're free to visit her."
"Thank you." Finnick didn't feel like being polite, it was too much of a strain. When the nurse was gone, he turned to step back into Annie's room. She turned her head towards him. He couldn't read her expression.
"Finnick Odair!" shrieked Gossamer. She trotted down the long corridor in her pointy heels. Mags followed far behind, hoisting herself forward with her cane for every step. Finnick's chest tightened. Maybe Annie would feel better talking with someone she didn't associate a childhood fear with. "Wait for us!"
Finnick was frozen as he watched the black haired woman sweep past him into Annie's room. The trio had been waiting for the girl in the lobby of the hospital floor, and Mags had made Gossamer promise not to find Finnick until he gave the okay. So much for that plan. "Annie!" cried Gossamer. He watched the woman awkwardly try to hug Annie. "We are so proud of you!"
Mags hobbled into the room. She smiled at Annie, but didn't overwhelm her with shrieks of delight. Finnick appreciated that. The girl shrunk away from both of the women timidly. Finnick was struck when her eyes flickered towards him, she silently called for help. He crossed the cold, metal room towards her. Mags' hand rested on his shoulder.
"You did good," said Mags sadly.
Annie caught the woman's tone. Her eyes flashed, horrified. "Rayne," she whispered. "Rayne."
Finnick practically pushed the other two out of his way. He grasped her hand tightly, whispering to her. It was the first thing he thought to do to avoid watching her break down. "Annie, lovely, he's alright now," he told her.
"You're lying!" she accused. While it broke his heart to hear, Finnick could see some of the old Annie creeping back up on him. "You're lying, Finnick! He's hurt! He's hurt!"
He shook his head, trying not to crumble before them. It took too long to piece himself back together for him risk any of that. This was about Annie. "He's safe and sound, I promise," Finnick murmured, lips brushing her ear as he spoke. He watched Annie's expression soften. "Rayne's safe and sound."
She refused to accept his answer. Annie turned her head away from him, whipping Finnick in the face with strands of dark hair. Her chest tightened with every breath she sucked in. He pecked her cheek lovingly, drawing her attention back.
"Ms. Cresta," said the doctor as he appeared in the doorway. His skin was crawling with blue script. Annie and Finnick were both startled by the sudden announcement. "I've glanced over your files and if Mr. Odair is willing to take you, you're free to go."
It was so wrong to Finnick that they had diagnosed her with post-traumatic stress disorder and they were letting her go so easily. The idiot Capitol doctors must not know a thing of real pain; they must think it was limited to physical misery. Finnick knew the expanse of Annie's agony would stretch far beyond that of her body. Annie squeezed his hand as the doctor released the belts restraining her.
"Mr. Odair, if I could have you sign the release paperwork, please," said the doctor pulling him out of the room.
Finnick watched Annie struggle to sit upright, requiring the help of both Gossamer and Mags. It should have been him. He is the one looking after her.
Annie was detached. Her eyes fixed on a precise point in the air before her during the entire cab ride back to the Training Center. She didn't speak; she didn't as much as look to anyone beside Finnick. Several times, Gossamer tried to strike up a small conversation with her. It ended with Gossamer trailing off awkwardly as she couldn't bring Annie to words. The girl watched the passing horizon or Finnick's eyes. She held his hand on her lap and nodded her head to a song only she could hear.
When the cab pulled into the long drive before the Training Center, it was Gossamer would slipped from her seat to retrieve their things. She insisted that she didn't want help; she didn't want Mags to exert herself or Finnick to leave Annie. Several minutes later, the woman appeared with an Avox tagging along behind her, pushing a trolley piled with suitcases – most of them being hers. Lying on top was a dry-cleaned, iron-pressed and fresh scented dress that was the shade of pale blue that only came from District Four dyes. Annie's reaping dress.
"Look, Annie," said Finnick pointing to the dress. The Avox wheeled the cart to the trunk to start packing away the suitcases. Her eyes brightened with life.
"It was my mother's," said Annie distantly.
Finnick's heart leapt into his throat. She was getting better. She wasn't going to live in fear in the back of her mind. "It's very pretty," he told her. Annie agreed with a quick nod and turned towards the window again.
He helped her through crowds of reporters in the train station. She seemed more frightened of the flashing lights and bug-like cameras now more than ever. Annie cringed at each flash and hid her face in his shoulder. Finnick did his best to shield her from the photographers, but the things they called to her were impossible to ignore.
"Annie! What is it like being the newest victor?" They didn't realize she had been in the hospital for the past twenty-four hours.
"How will it be when you have to face Rayne's family?" Annie screamed at this, and Finnick did his best to calm her down. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gossamer smack that reporter upside the head and scold him.
"Annie! You're still wearing your token. Did Finnick propose?" The pair stared wide-eyed in the direction the question came from. He enveloped her hand, hiding the ring from the cameras.
She looked to him. "That's what it was?"
"No," he muttered with a smile in her ear. "It was something else, unimportant right now."
Annie nodded and began to drift off again. Finnick assisted her onto the train and she could pull herself together long enough to follow Gossamer and Mags down the narrow, vaguely familiar hallway. She was fighting to stay where she was; she didn't want to watch the Arena spring up before her eyes. Mags pulled Finnick and Annie down a separate, new hallway that Annie didn't recognize. The woman gave Finnick a knowing look to which he caught on. Annie knew why, too. "Rayne," she murmured.
"Yes," said Mags quietly. She lead them through the train's kitchen, which was bustling with Avoxes determined and on task, through the back door into the dining room. Annie's eyes brightened as she turned to examine the carvings in the wood paneling, she traced her finger over the nets and seashells and waves. "She's there, Finnick," Mags told him as she sank into her seat.
He watched Annie with desperation in his eyes. The girl who sat beside him was the hollow shell of a girl he sent off to the Arena. She was seemingly content for the moment, though, and that was more than he could ask for. Annie was tracing patterns into the table, eyes glazed with a terrible pain that she couldn't blink away. Sometimes she would break away from her intense concentration and laugh, despite it being the wrong time in the conversation being carried on around her. Finnick wished he knew what she was thinking of.
Annie liked the sound of their voices. She couldn't bear to listen to names of tributes mentioned or the words Games or Arena muttered under breath, so she only allowed herself to hear the lull of the conversation. Her dull eyes always brightened slightly when Finnick spoke. With her index finger, Annie wrote her brothers' names into the tabletop.
She didn't eat when food was placed before her. Annie just stared at the mouthwatering plate for the length of dinner. She pondered several times whether or not she should take the fork and start to dig in, but decided against it each time the question arose in her mind. Gossamer tried to speak to her, tried to coax her into eating something, but Annie refused. She gave a slight shake of her head and turned to stone again. Something just wasn't the same within her, for even when she wasn't terrified, there was a stirring in the pit of her stomach that threatened to flood into her system and suck her down again. Gossamer nudged her.
"Please, Annie." Her words only caught her attention because they were stripped of her ridiculous Capitol accent. Annie's eyes followed hers as they darted towards Finnick. Her heart was struck by his pained expression. Gossamer stared at her. "Please." She pushed the plate towards her again.
Annie was careful of what she ate. Somehow she knew that nothing would stay down. The rest of the supper passed in silence, aside from forks scraping against plates just to create the illusion of food being eaten – Annie wasn't the only one struggling to force food down. When the meal finished, Finnick lead Annie back to her bedroom. It was too eerily familiar and cold. She shuttered as she moved to the edge of her neatly made bed. Finnick was about to turn out when she called for him.
"Finnick," she said, voice cracking.
The sliver of light in the room widened as he opened the door and stepped back inside the room. "Yes?" He was tired.
An old sense of guilt overwhelmed her heart. "Finnick," she repeated. Annie couldn't manage any more words, no matter how hard she tried. Stay with me. Please, stay with me. I don't want you to go. I can't be by myself. I hate the nightmares. I hate living in my head. Her mouth hung open but nothing rolled from her frustrated tongue. She stiffened as she waited.
His sea green eyes flickered. Finnick flipped on the light. He paused to stare at her and listen to the patter of rain on the roof, knowing better than to mention it. Dark circles weighed down Annie's already dull green eyes, and her dark curls were knotted and unkempt. She was tinier now than when they had met. Somehow, he could see the good to this. Finnick saw a girl who needed help, yes, and needed it quite desperately but also a girl who would never be hungry and never have to work or do anything she didn't want to. If he could keep her in District Four, Annie would always be happy. Her eyes softened under his gaze. Finnick settled in an armchair across from the foot of her bed.
Annie crawled back and tucked herself under the fine sheets. Her wide eyes studied him. She felt so responsible, it made her head ache. "Tell me stories," she pleaded. "Please."
And so he did. Unbeknownst to Annie, his story was all about her and how she didn't live the rest of her life in the Arena. She liked it, though. She also liked how he whispered "I love you" when he thought she was sleeping.
I love all of your responses to the previous chapter. Seriously. Every review, favorite, and follower this story gets is just unbelievable to me and I love it so much.
I would like to forewarn you that my updating pattern is shifting. I don't know how things will settle, but since I just transferred to a new school, I will be growing accustomed to a new schedule and different times to write. I don't see it becoming much of an issue, but don't expect more than two updates a week. Sorry.
I'm sorry my tumblr didn't work for those of you who said you'd follow. I don't know how to post links within chapters so you may have to type it in in the address bar. Again, it's .com
I feel like I just utterly failed with this chapter. I apologize for it being a complete let down. Please let me know what you thought and how I can improve.