Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games.
Annie Cresta is startled from a deep slumber, waking to the glow of the safety light on her face. What's that sound she can hear? Though she's still groggy, she allows her senses to focus. Someone's standing outside her door and knocking on it.
"Come in," she calls out hoarsely. She pushes the covers back and positions herself upright in bed.
The door slides open just wide enough for one person to enter. At first Annie is perplexed as to why she can hear no footsteps, then she realizes the man is in a wheelchair. The man has close-cropped gray hair and blue eyes. It's someone Annie recognizes. It's Boggs.
Annie places a hand to her temple and rubs the sore spot there. Is this just a hallucination, or a rare side effect of the drugs, or something else?
How could he have gotten here? she wonders silently.
The last Annie heard of Boggs, he was thousands of miles away on the outskirts of the Capitol, fulfilling a mission for Plutarch Heavensbee and President Coin. He shouldn't be here, talking to a mad girl like her. He should be on duty.
Maybe they relieved him, because this message he has to send is so important. Annie smiles.
Boggs lets the door close behind him. He wheels around so he faces Annie directly. Something's off about him, Annie notes. Something about his face. It's much too pale. Too gray.
Annie shudders a little. She's scared, yes, but she knows she must stay strong. I'll stay optimistic, she tells herself. Maybe Boggs is here to tell me Finnick's coming home.
It's this that allows her to keep the smile on her face.
"Sir," she greets Boggs. "Do you… have you heard news about my husband?"
Boggs is staring at her. He clears his throat. Unlike her, he isn't smiling. "Yes, ma'am," he says at last.
Dread clutches at Annie's heart like the coils of a snake wrapping around its prey.
She has to close her mouth firmly, to keep from gasping. No! she protests silently. It can't be. The universe can't be this cruel. But deep down inside, she knows the opposite is true. Anything is possible. The worst might just happen in war, and there's nothing she can do to stop it.
But it's not fair. Finnick and I were just married. I thought he'd be gone only for a brief time, and then we'd have forever ahead of us…
But, she tells herself, war doesn't care what's fair. All it knows is how to take lives, the lives of soldiers, the lives of children, the lives of young people who've just exchanged vows.
A sob sticks in Annie's throat. She looks at Boggs again. Her gaze travels downward. She sees something she didn't before.
The lower halves of both of Boggs' legs are gone. One stump drips a steady stream of blood through some sort of compression bandage. The other is secured in a poorly tied tourniquet.
As Annie watches, the drops of Boggs' blood continue to fall, leaving dark stains on the floor. She breathes in and feels her heart sink.
Something is horribly wrong.
Now Annie's throat feels tight. Too tight. She struggles just to breathe. She has to pause and suck in air before she continues. "Is he… is he…" She can't finish.
Luckily, Boggs finishes for her. "Ma'am," he says soberly, "I am so sorry to have to tell you this."
Now come the tears. They spill over Annie's eyelashes and down her cheeks, over her nose, salting her mouth and her chin. Her voice quivers. "No," she moans.
The worst of the worst of her nightmares has come true.
Boggs feels no need to confirm it. The secret is already out, and besides, why add to the grieving woman's pain? All he can do is lay a reassuring hand on Annie's shoulder. But she doesn't feel it. She feels nothing. Nothing exists for her right now but the pain of loss.
Her shoulders spasm and her chest heaves with her sobs. She cries for the life she could've had, the life with her beloved that was taken from her, without her having had a choice in the matter. She weeps until her eyes feel like a pond bed that's dried up.
But then, little by little, she grows calmer. She knows well enough that, in spite of all the pain and death and loss, life must still go on. And even if she can't muster the courage to keep going, those in District 13 will still demand that of her. They'll see to it that she stays productive and keeps showing up to work.
So she blinks back the tears and keeps her sorrow at bay, at least momentarily. Then she looks expectantly at Boggs. There's just one more thing she needs from him.
"Sir…" she begins. Her voice quakes.
"What is it?" he asks, no louder than a whisper.
She draws in a deep breath. Her next breath shudders on its way out. "Sir…" she begins again. Inside, she's silently wondering, how can one ask such a question? She picks her words carefully. "Sir," she says, "I may have yet to go to war, but I suspect I know more about what it is like, than many would think. I have been to the Hunger Games, after all."
Boggs remains still. But he never stops looking at her. "Yes," he murmurs. "I know you have."
"Then you must understand," says Annie. "You must know why I'm going to ask you this. Sir… you were there, weren't you, when my husband died?"
"Yes, I was. In a way."
"Were you with him… to the end?"
Boggs doesn't move a muscle. He looks at Annie as if he is weighing and measuring his answer in his mind. At last he opens his mouth. "To the very end," he says quietly. "And I saw everything that happened."
Annie's heart does a little jump inside her chest. She so desperately wants to know. She has to know what the last seconds of her husband's life were like.
"So?" she presses Boggs. "Tell me."
Boggs hesitates. A shadow has fallen over his face. The creases in his forehead and around his mouth look deeper than ever.
"Please," Annie begs. She's aware of how heartbroken she sounds. And she is. "Please," she begs again. "I need to know. I loved him… I loved him."
More tears fall down her face.
Boggs looks at her for a few moments, then something in his expression shifts. A few moments go by before he speaks again. "Ma'am, your husband… he and his squad were ambushed. By mutts. Muttations, as you know. These were lethal beings, engineered to kill."
Annie's hand goes to her mouth. She holds her breath for several seconds.
Boggs keeps speaking. "The squad located a ladder that provided a means of escape. Some of the members were able to reach it in time. Unfortunately, your husband… was one of the last to attempt to go up, and in the process, he… he…"
"Was eaten. By the mutts. Right?" Annie's voice trembles.
Boggs shakes his head quickly. "Ma'am, I can assure you, his death was swift. He would've felt nothing."
"But… but…" Annie is far from satisfied. She gives Boggs an imploring look. "Sir, please, give me an answer. Why was my husband one of the last to go up? Why did it have to end this way? Why?"
Boggs just looks at her. He seems lost as to what to say.
In the quiet, Annie begins to weep again. More tears drip down her face.
After almost a minute, Boggs speaks again. He seems to have pulled himself together, and he speaks slowly and determinedly. "Ma'am, your husband chose to stay behind, to ensure he could hold off most of the mutts. I saw him destroy at least a dozen with his trident, before he attempted the climb. The Mockingjay herself owes her life to him. She was almost slain by a mutt, but his quick thinking and skill with his weapon saved her."
Annie stops crying at once. She stares at Boggs, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.
Boggs finishes. "Ma'am," he says, "your husband, Soldier Finnick Odair… died a hero."
For a few moments everything in the room stands still. Then Annie lets out a cry, a sound of both pain and triumph. "I knew it!" she sobs. "I was sure." She's weeping again, but this time the tears are bittersweet. At the very least, she has closure. At least she can be assured that Finnick Odair did not die in vain.
She thanks Boggs for the comfort, tells him she hopes he lives a long and joyful life. And soon after that, Boggs is telling her goodbye.
She turns over in her bed and tries to go back to sleep. The pain in her heart has subsided to a mere ache. She knows it'll always be there, but at least she can take consolation in the fact that Finnick gave his life for what he believed in.
Her eyes close and she sleeps blissfully, neither knowing nor caring that the door to her room is still closed, and the wheelchair still sits in the middle of the room, only now it is empty, and there's not a drop of blood to be seen on the floor beneath it.
AN: Review please! Poor Annie, she will probably never learn the truth… but perhaps it's better that way.