I do not own the Hunger Games, I only own this story's plot and original characters.
Chapter 24
The next morning is rainy and cold. Strange weather for a city that's weather is controlled by humans. The control center is only a few blocks away in a nondescript building that blends into the buildings surrounding President Snow's mansion. It takes me only fifteen minutes to get there on foot. I shoulder my purse and walk quickly with an umbrella in one hand and a thermos filled with hot tea in the other.
Not many people are out and about going to work. Many people in the Capitol work from home. Office attendance will be very slim until their favorite tributes die and then it'll be business as usual. Outside of the control center, there are several Peacekeepers holding guns. I show them my badge and they let me enter.
After a few more security checks, I am ushered into a room where several of the Gamemakers, including Plutarch and Elmo are staring over consoles. A three dimensional model of the arena is in the middle of the room. Little tags show where the tributes are on the 3D model. The door rushes open and I am hit by a strong smell of roses.
"Good morning," Seneca gestures to an empty seat next to Plutarch.
Snow nods from behind him. His beard is neatly trimmed and a fresh rose is pinned to his lapel. "Good morning, Gamemaker Carmen."
The emphasis on the title 'Gamemaker' sends a chill up my spine. I smile nervously and look down at the console. Katniss Everdeen's vitals and stats blink at me as well as her position in the arena. She is the furthest from the Cornucopia and all of the other tributes.
"How does if feel to finally be in a position of power?" President Snow asks.
I sit up straight and adjust my skirt. I'm not sure what to say. "I love it" is a complete lie. "It's what I've always wanted," makes the title seem like it was only a birthday gift or a dream come true. This is my worst nightmare and President Snow knows by my chosen profession of a concert pianist that I am no cut-throat killer. There's another reason.
I force a grin on my face and tell a bold faced lie. "I love it."
"Just like your mother, you are." He says. His mouth smiles but his eyes do not. There is a hardness in his eyes that makes my blood run cold.
"Am I?" I decide to play coy and allow a playful smile on face. That's a comparison that I don't want. I am not a cold-hearted killer like my mother. I am nothing like her.
"Prove it."
"Sir, Katniss is out of range of the other tributes," One of the other Gamemakers I don't recognize says. I look down at me screen and sure enough, she is at least five miles from the nearest tribute.
"Well, we need to find a way to herd her back," Seneca says. "Luckily for us she is walking in a booby trapped area.
"Gamemaker Carmen, will you please do the honors?" President Snow says calmly.
I looked down at the control panel uneasily. Everyone stares at me. Sweat trickles down the back of my neck. To the right of her stats, there are several buttons that will trigger the traps. I look up at President Snow. He is watching me with cruel glint in his eyes.
"The button is on your left," Plutarch says softly.
I look down at the console. There are three different options: Gas, trackerjackers and fire.
A shadow casts over my consol. "I'd pick the fire, if I were you." Snow says. "We wouldn't want to scar the Girl on Fire's face now would we? It would upset the people, and we can't have a rebellion, can we?"
"No, I suppose not," I mumble.
"Fire is enough to strike… fear into a person. I feel like you would know that wouldn't you?"
I pull my eyes from the consol. My blood runs cold as I suddenly get the impression that my sister's death was no accident. The warehouse that had caught on fire was my uncle's. It wouldn't have been the first time my uncle had disobeyed the law by sending blankets to other districts without the Capitol's knowledge. Everyone's eyes are focused on me. I can't read their expressions.
"She protected her sister from being sent into the arena. What did you do?" He takes my finger and puts it onto the button. His hands are cold as ice. As death. I wince has he slams my hand on the button. "We must act quickly!"
From the display in the center of the room, there is a wave of fire that begins and grows steadily towards Katniss and my direction. Animals flee and Katniss tries to clumsily escape but the roots and random rocks placed by the considerate Gamemakers make it difficult.
I want to flee too. Even though there is no smoke, the smell of it chokes me and I gag. I can't breathe. President Snow holds my hand down. The Gamemakers are also given the experience of being in the arena. Several of the Gamemakers cough and cover their mouths.
I stumble out of my seat and onto the cold tile floor where I scramble desperately to try to find fresh air. I can hear Katniss and several other tributes scream as the wave of fire come towards them. I clamp my hands over my ears to block out the screams. The screams are not the tributes any more; it's the trapped children in the stifling hot warehouse with large pieces of machinery.
"Look at that bitch run," President Snow exclaims. He still crushes my hand in a vicelike grip. Several of the Gamemakers whoop loudly. They forget about me.
Burnt flesh fills the room. Katniss's jacket is burning and she limps as she runs clutching her leg which was scored by a fireball. Suddenly, she is not Katniss. She is my sister.
"This is my entire fault," I whisper. I try to stand, but my legs give out "I have to go."
President Snow blocks my way. I look up his snow white pant leg and he is sneering back at me I stand up only to be grabbed by President Snow. "You don't think I know what you're planning?" He hisses in my ear. "Take this as your notice to cease and desist."
"I don't know what you're…"
He jerks me sharply. "You can tell him the only reason we didn't cut out his tongue is that he's a victor, and you can tell your father next time you talk to him tell him that we had an agreement and he better honor that agreement if he knows what's good for him." He shoves me away roughly.
I gag and retch my meager breakfast all over the nearest Peacekeeper's shoes.
He says something to the Peacekeepers but I can hear him over the loud roar that consumes my hearing. A Peacekeeper helps me to my feet.
"I have to go," I murmur. "I have to go."
I wrench myself out of his grasp, grab my purse, and flee down the hall away from them. As I run, my ankle gives out from underneath me and I go crashing into the hard floor. Damn these high heels. Peacekeepers start to chase after me.
"Let her go," President Snow says. "She doesn't have the palette for death."
I pick myself off the floor and shuck off my heels, My pantyhose cause me to slip and slide on the tile floor. Avoxes move out of my way as I run. Clutching my heels I push the heavy doors open to the outside. It's raining heavily and several members of the Capitol parade around in their chic umbrellas.
I run and it feels like my lungs are about to burst, but I don't dare stop. Dimitri's warning runs through my head. You have no idea what you're getting into. If he knew then why did he give the number? Tears run down my face as I hurry in the cold, wet drizzle. My breath comes out in gasps. Several people stop to stare at me but none of them ask me if I'm okay. My pantyhose cause me to slip and slide on the pavement. Even though the rain I can smell smoke and burnt flesh. It is a scent that has imprinted itself on my memory. Even though it is raining, I feel like if I don't run fast enough the wave of fire will catch me and it's tagalong fireballs will hit me.
What if Dimitri set me up?
I crash into someone. He shoves me roughly. "Watch where you're going bitch." I keep running. I can't go back to the apartment. I've lost all sense of direction and am running blindly. People are staring. I feel stained by the fire that has tried to engulf me. I sit down on a bench and try to catch my breath. I can still remember my sister's screams.
Somehow I've made it into the public square where they are showing the games on large screens in 3D. The Games are being broadcast in large screens in the square. The wave of fire is only beginning its path towards me. A new fear springs me on and I sprint towards back to the apartment. I scream and start running again. This alerts a few Peacekeepers and they chase me but only for a short distance then they lose interest. Life in the Capitol has made them fat and slow.
I look back at them and then trip and stumble in to a potted plant. A cactus. The needles stab my skin and bring me back to reality. I don't know where I am. I am in the downtown of the Capitol, but I can't seem to find my way back to the Gamemaker's Headquarters. It feels like I've been running for hours when I find my way back to my apartment.
I struggle though the heavy doors and everybody in the foyer stares at me as burst in. I drip all over the tile floor. Many people look down at me. This strikes a new panic in me. They know what I've done. They know it's my fault that I set Katniss Everdeen on fire. They know it's my fault my sister is dead. The elevator would take too long so I take the flights of stairs.
After several flights of stairs, my legs are throbbing and so is my ankle. I lean against the wall to try to catch my breath and calm my pounding heart. I hear voices and the pound of feet as they ascend a the stairs. Peacekeepers. President Snow.
The new burst of energy allows me to run up a few more flights of stairs. By the time reach the twelfth floor, I can hardly stand on my left ankle. I scan my key card to let me in on the nearest floor. It doesn't open. I try again, it still doesn't open. My fingers shake as I attempt to open the door. My key card refuses to work.
"Why won't you open?" I cry. I shake the door trying to dislodge the lock. I try to scan my card again, but the lock doesn't click open.
There are more feet on the stairs. I can smell fire. Fear courses through my veins. I shake the door harder. Why won't my key work? I wonder. Suddenly the door opens and a man wearing a rumpled suit and drinking a cocktail. Someone is coming down the stairs. I bolt through the cracked opening, crashing into him and spilling his drink down the both of us.
"What the hell?" he cries. His breath reeks of booze and eggs.
My stomach sinks. I'm standing right in front of Haymitch Abernathy, the mentor of the tribute that I am responsible for attempting to set on fire. Despite all of the alcohol that he has consumed probably in the last week, his eyes are still bright and clear. If I were to put a match to his breath, he would be consumed by it.
"I'm sorry," I say. Tears run down my face. "He made me do it. I'm so sorry."
I can taste vomit in my mouth. I can smell charred skin. The image of the fireball hitting Katniss's leg is burned into my mind. I feel dizzy and hot. Blood roars in my ears.
Haymitch grips my shoulders. "Now wait just a second. Who made you do what?"
"I didn't mean to hurt Katniss. I didn't mean to honest. They set me up." I grip the lapels of his jacket. "President Snow made me do it."
"Made you do what, sweetheart?"
"He made me push the button. The button for the fire."
"You're not supposed to be here. I'm going to have to ask you to leave," The woman's voice is firm. Her hands grip my arms like claws and she tries to pull me away from Haymitch.
"Let her go, Effie. It's okay." He loosens her grip on her arm. "I know her. She's Dimitri's girl."
"But…"
"Just pour the dear girl a drink." He gives me a once over.
"They're going to kill me." I plead. "President Snow knows what I've done. I've got to hide."
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Haymitch asks. The expression on his face changes into curiosity. "Calm down, sweetheart. You're safe here, no one gives a flying fuck about District 12."
I try to break out of his grasp and bolt. All I want to do is hide and get away the smell of death that permeates me. Oh god, what if I killed someone? There's a scream, Katniss's scream. I tear out of Haymitch's grasp and try to run into the nearest room. Effie grabs my shirt and yells at me.
"It's my fault." I cry. "It's my fault she's injured."
"You aren't authorized to be here."
Haymitch attempts to get in between us and spills the remaining contents on Effie.
The fabric rips loose from my shoulder as I pry her fingers from shirt. I scream as I drag both of us through the doorway. My ankle aches. Haymitch says something that distracts her and allows me to tear out of her grasp and slam the door. She winces as the door closes the door on her hand.
I lean against the door in relief.
"Let her be," Haymitch says calmly. "Something's scared her."
"But she's not…" Effie insists.
"She's Dimitri's mentee, " A male voice said. Not Haymitch.
"Well, that doesn't make it any better," She mutters. "Victors these days."
Panic seizes me again. Now I've put Dimitri in danger as well. The room is dark and smells faintly like pine. The window overlooks the city. The door handle turns and I look around frantically. I shouldn't be afraid of these people but I am. They could easily turn me over to the Peacekeeper. Technically, Effie is right. I shouldn't be here. It's against the rules. Haymitch could easily use this to his advantage. But he still has two tributes alive in the arena. I need to get out of here. I need to talk to my Grandmother. When I lived in District 8, my grandmother and father would talk in hushed voices at the table after Kai and I had gone to bed.
President Snow's image lingered in my mind along with the scent of roses. I've never like the smell of them myself. They always seemed sinister with their beautiful, but deceitful blooms hiding the thorns underneath the deep green leaves. We were never allowed to have roses at home as they were a symbol only President Snow could have. They symbolized fear. Whenever my mother received roses from a male admirer, she always had a stricken look on her face. A date brought them to the house and she promptly threw them out.
I squeeze myself under the bed and move towards the headboard and the wall. Effie's heels click on the floor and she stops in front of the bed.
"She's gone," She exclaims.
Haymitch snorts. "That's impossible. She's probably hiding."
"We have to get her out of here," Effie says quickly. "The Capitol could penalize us if they find her here and we'll lose all the hard work Katniss and Peeta have done so far. It could be a trap. I heard this happened to District-"
He burps loudly and waves her off. "Nothing will happen to us. I don't think this is the Capitol's doing."
"But the way she was apologizing about the fire…"
"We can use this to our advantage." Haymitch knees crack as he stoops down and looks under the bed. "Here she is," he says cheerfully. His eyes twinkle. At one point, he was a very handsome man, but years of drinking had destroyed that. Now his face had a hard leathery look. "You can come out sweetheart, we aren't going to hurt you."
I scoot back as far as I can against the wall and towards the middle of the bed. I can still smell the smoke and hear the screams as the fire burs them. My own sister's face flashes in front of my eyes as the beams of the building tumble on top of her. I hear her scream. There are more screams and I don't recognize that they are my own. There is burning flesh. Something grabs my leg and I scream and curl into a tight ball. Long fingernails scrape down my leg and I can feel them dig into my flesh. I clench my hands over my ears.
"Don't." Haymitch's voice booms. "You're making it worse. They've done something to her."
"What are we going to do? She can't stay here," Effie says. She sounds exasperated. "If they catch us with her…"
"Is there anyone else we can call?" A male voice asks. "What about Dimitri?"
"We can try," Haymitch says slowly. "Maybe he'll know what's going on. It seems that even the Capitol tortures their Gamemakers."
"No one is unscathed by the Hunger Games," the male voice says again. He sounds sad. "She is the granddaughter of the victor."
"It should be an honor?" Effie's voice has lost its cheer. She is bent at an awkward angle, probably so the floor won't get her dirty. Effie probably has no idea what the term dirty means.
"This could work to our advantage," Haymitch says softly. "Let's leave her alone and try to get in touch with her mentor."
Two sets of feet leave the room, but one remains. A dark skinned man with gold eyeliner peeks under the bed. "You're okay," he says softly. He does not try to grab at me but simply stares. He lies down, and props his head on his arm. "You're safe and sound. No one can hurt you. Can you tell me what happened?" I am shaking so hard to that my teeth are chattering. "Is there anyone we could call? Dimitri? You grandmother?"
"Who are you?" I manage to choke out.
"Cinna. I'm Katniss Everdeen's stylist." He holds up both of his hands. "I come in peace."
"It's my fault." Tears stream down my face. "It's my fault that she's dead."
"Katniss isn't dead, my sweet." He reaches out his hand. "She's alive, a little burnt but not dead. Oh no, she was set on fire but she wasn't consumed by the flames."
I reach out and touch his fingertips. "It's not Katniss, it's my sister."
Cinna's golden accented eyes widen .The door opens again and I quickly snatch it away. Cinna rolls on his back. Haymitch is back and he's got another glass of something.
"Damn Dimitri won't answer his fucking phone."
"Who else can we call?" Effie asks. "I think her Grandmother has already left to do her duty in District 8."
"Who do we know that has experience with trauma?" Cinna says. "This is clearly a case of it."
Haymitch sighs. "You're talking to a victor. All of us know trauma like it's a sibling. Unless..." I see his feet begin to pace in a circle.
He sits down and peers under the bed at me. I curl up tighter into a ball. I just want him to go away. I want the smell of burning flesh to go away. Haymitch slides a glass under the table. "Drink it. It'll calm your nerves."
"Hello, Finnick," Haymitch says gallantly. They exchange pleasantries and complement each other on how well each of the tributes from their respective districts. Ironic because there is only one tribute from District 4 still alive. Usually, it's the other way around. They chat with each other like they are old friends. And perhaps they are, linked by the hellish Games.
"Finnick I need a favor," Haymitch says. "I have a Gamemaker in my quarters... No, no, no, no it's not like that."
He pauses. "Is Annie with you?"
I can hear Finnick's voice faintly over the mobile phone. "Don't drag her into this Haymitch. I am…"
"Don't worry, you're beloved will be safe. Just bring her with you." Haymitch pauses and listens again. "Well, you see I have this very interesting... problem. I have a Gamekeeper hiding underneath a bed."
"YOU KIDNAPPED A GAMEMAKER?" Finnick yells. "This wasn't a part of the plan."
"Well you see, that's where you come in. She's terrified. I can't reach her mentor. Dimitri's not answering his phone."
I don't hear Finnick's response.
"Finnick if anyone could sweet talk a trackerjacker, it would be you."
"I am not putting-"
"Carmen's frightened Finnick," Haymitch repeats. "I have no idea what the hell happened to her except that she pushed a button and something bad happened. She can't stay here and I can't get in touch with Dimitri."
Haymitch paces a few more steps. "Yes, in any other case we would be screwed and our tributes would be blown sky high if we even did... Dimitri's girl. Surely you remember her mother? She's not a hard one to forget." He chuckles.
"Alright, see you in a few minutes."
He stoops underneath the bed and looks at me. "Hold on, sweetheart."
"We should keep trying to get a hold of Dimitri," Cinna says. "I think he'd want to know."
"He hates me," I whisper. "He said he never wanted to talk to me again. This is all my fault."
"He doesn't hate you," Haymitch answers. "We're naturally bitter people and there's nothing you can do about it."
"I hurt him," I sob. "I betrayed him. I stole from him. I only took them because I thought he was going to kill himself."
"What happened in that control room?" Haymitch says. He makes a motion to Cinna and probably Effie too, to leave us.
"I pushed the button." My throat is sore. The words sound so juvenile. I taste soot even though there was none in the control room or here. "The fire. President Snow made me do it. He threatened me. I had no choice. I'm so sorry."
Haymitch tries to reach out to comfort me, but I move away. I am afraid that he'll try to drag me out from under the bed and I don't think I can deal with the judgmental stares from all of them. They'll probably call the Peacekeepers soon. My blatant disobedience to the rules regarding the relationship between the mentors and Gamemakers doesn't matter to me. I never wanted this job anyway. Maybe this was part of President Snow's plan? The adrenaline starts to drain slowly out of my body and it's becoming harder to keep my body ready to flee. I begin to stretch out, but away from Haymitch's grasp. He's still calling Dimitri. He slowly withdraws his hand.
"Take a sip of that drink."
The doorbell rings and he leaves to answer it and I breathe a sigh of relief. A pair of boots enter the room and they fuss around in the drawers and closets. They stop at the bed. It's probably an Avox. I have no reason to fear them. Everything was taken away from them when they committed their crimes that got their tongues cut out. The owner of the boots stoops down and stares at me. Cinna.
"There are fresh clothes on the bed for you to change into," He says kindly.
Basically, when you've decided to stop like a monster. I've put out stuff to make you look human again.
"I've also put out a towel in the shower if you would like to shower off the dust." He continues. "I know you've had a very rough day and it's not even lunchtime yet."
Nothing in his voice indicates that he thinks that I am some sort of monster and that I should clean up my act. When my sister was first killed, I would often go and hide in my bed, back behind all the clothes in my closet. It wasn't a reasonable thing for a sixteen-year old girl to do. I should have been able to shrug it off. Sometimes the screams would haunt my sleep. The doctor gave me drugs to help them go away. In truth, the morphling only made them more vivid and I could smell their flesh burning as the Peacekeepers barricaded the doors to keep members from the District from rescuing their children. I was one of the lucky ones, I guess. It didn't make me feel any better when I saw the families of the lost children walking around at the market or hanging the laundry on their front porches. It was not only fire and screams I ran away from. I was allowed to live because I was Hugo Hyde's daughter. That's the only reason they had let me out before the building collapsed. I want to tell Cinna that, but I can't. Something in me won't let me relive those memories.
He gives me a reassuring smile.
Pull yourself together, its okay. Sometimes when it got really bad I would play the piano for hours until my fingertips bled. I played like a zombie, not knowing how to feel. More than ever, I want to go home so I can escape into that.
Finnick's laugh carries into the bedroom. Soon his face is level with mine. I don't trust him and this makes me scoot closer to the wall. I am shaking as the urge to flee courses through me yet again. He looks like the Peacekeeper that dragged me away from his sister. Then a slender girl stoops down beside him. She has the same blue eyes as he does, but hers I can't read. She smiles a small nervous smile. This is Annie Cresta. She was the only one who survived her Games because she could swim. Rumor has it they tortured her because she loves Finnick.
"Please just leave me alone," I plead. I don't want him touching me. I don't want him near me. Fear begins to clench my chest again. "I want to go home."
"You are perfectly safe," Finnick says calmly. "They can't hurt you here."
"The fire..."
"It's been put out."
The girl shakes her head. "You're safe. I know it doesn't feel like that right now, and you feel like everything is out to get you. I know that feeling." Her voice trails off like she is lost in thought. "You can't let it though. There are good people here."
"I am a Gamemaker," I say. "I make children's lives hell in an arena for entertainment."
The girl cast a nervous look at Finnick. He nods reassuringly.
"You didn't choose it any more than I chose to win my Games," She says. "I saw what they did to you. And I want you to know that you don't need to be afraid of us. You don't need to be afraid of Finnick or Haymitch either."
Finnick winks at me. "We're big softies."
"You know as well as I do that status does nothing for protection," I answer. Annie Cresta was not the same after her Games, and her "duties" as a victor had taken a toll on her mental state.
"It's my fault that there was a fire in the arena." My words are spilling out uncontrollably. "It's my fault that my sister died. Annie gets on her hands and knees and crawls under the bed with me. She grabs my hand. I don't deserve her comfort. I am the daughter of one of the people who made her life a living hell, by drawing her name out of a ball.
"It's okay," She reassures me. I break down and sob. I try to yank my hand out of her grasp, but she is surprisingly strong.
"I don't deserve your pity."
"Yes, you do. You're not like them."
"This wasn't your choice," Finnick adds. "You were set up by the Capitol. We can all see it."
I wonder what they know that I don't.
I let Annie guide me out from underneath the bed. It registers that I am sopping wet, cold and hurt all over.
"But look at it this way," Finnick says, grinning. "You almost set the Girl on Fire literally on fire and she's alive. No one died."
"It doesn't erase the guilt."
Finnick runs a hand through my soaked and dirty hair. "If you feel guilty, you're letting them win. Isn't that what you told Dimitri?"
Haymitch's voice interrupts our conversation. "I was wondering when you were going to pick up your damn phone. You're a hard man to catch. I wanted to know that if you knew that your Carmen tried to literally light the Girl on Fire on fire this morning?"
Dimitri's voice comes over the speakerphone. "So you're calling to complain to me? I only have so much leeway in my instructions as her mentor. It's not that easy. You just tell yours to stay alive."
"Funny you should say that, she's currently hiding under my bed blabbering about a fire killing her sister. Even Finnick's sweet talking isn't helping. You know that he can sweet talk almost anything. You see, sweetheart, this is a problem because if she gets caught here..."
"Are you threatening her?" Dimitri's voice is hard. "Because I will kill you first."
"Not at all. I'm merely stating the facts and I know that you are a very partial to your little...pet."
"I took away his knives and his guns," I blurt out. "He doesn't love me at all."
Haymitch and Finnick chuckle. Even Annie smiles.
"I'm sure you had your reasons," Finnick answers. "It was probably a reasonable reason. Probably a more reasonable reason than Dimitri has to reasonably justify the sheer amount of weapons.
Annie and Finnick carefully pull me out from under the bed. When I reach the edge do I realize how embarrassingly dirty and mussed I look. There is a long run in my hose. Where Effie grabbed my leg, there are five deep scratches that have bled slightly, not to mention the needles from the cactus. If anything, I look like I should be a tribute in the arena. My dress is dirty and torn. My nose is running, my makeup is streaked from crying.
Finnick rubs my shoulder gently. "You really are going to be okay. We're not going to judge you here."
"I'm really scared." Tears run down my face.
Annie smiles sympathetically, but she doesn't hug me. But takes my hand and strokes it. I don't deserve to use the word scared. I have no idea what that means. I've never had to fear for my life, at least in the way that they have or Dimitri.
"So it seems you've had a couple of rough days," Finnick answers. "First the breakup and now this."
A concussion. How can it get any worse?
"How do you know about that?" I ask.
"It's all over the news," Cinna answers. "TDZ. The whole thing with Dimitri is on there too."
"Great," I groan. "I was hoping that the Capitol would have noticed that happened."
"Clearly you haven't had much experience with the Capitol," Haymitch answered. "They love gossip. If it involves the Gamemakers it's even better."
"What sort of rumors are flying about us now?" I think back to the conversation I had with Contessa and her cronies in the bathroom.
"Just the usual ones," Haymitch answers. "They suspect you're sleeping together but that's not really new news."
"We're not," I blush hotly. "Honest."
He waves his hand. "It doesn't matter. It creates more publicity for the Games. We have star-crossed lovers in the arena and now we have lovebird Gamemakers."
"You can't forget the conspiracy theories surrounding the different Gamemakers supporting certain tributes," Finnick adds. "Those are always fun."
"How many have you been linked to so far?" Haymitch raises and eyebrow.
Finnick shrugs. "At least six. It's always the same ones."
"Are they... patrons of yours?"
"Nah, just random people. People think that Johanna and I are dating again." He wraps his arm protectively around Annie.
There is a loud knocking at the door. It's the Peacekeepers! I try to flee and hide under the bed. But I can't. I try to wrench myself from Finnick's grasp, but he holds me firm. Annie says nothing, but pats my hand reassuringly. He whispers something in her ear and she nods. Both of them help me to my feet. My ankle is throbbing and she helps me limp to the bathroom. Before we can enter, the door bursts open.
"For the love of Christ," Haymitch bellows. "Put the damn thing down."
"Where is she?" The stranger bellows. A hammer of a gun cocks. "Tell me where she is or I'll blow your brains out.
Dimitri.
"Jesus, put the gun down. We're all friends here." Haymitch says. "She's in here, but put the gun down first. She's..."
"Carmen!" Dimitri yells. "Carmen!"
"You reek. Were you raised in a barn?" Haymitch gags.
My knees are shaking. "I'm in here." My voice only comes out as a whisper. "Dimitri."
Dimitri tosses his gun on the bed and hurries to the bathroom doorway. He pushes Annie out of the way. She stumbles into the door frame. I throw my arms around his neck. He smells like sweat and is dripping wet. He wears tight spandex shorts and a wife beater. His hair is thrown up in a messy bun.
"What happened?" He asks firmly.
"Why didn't you answer your phone?" I ask weakly. Tears run down my face.
"I went out for a run. I left it at home."
"Yet you had a gun," Finnick answers. "You never cease to amaze me."
Dimitri gives him a rude gesture. "I'm always amazing, what are you talking about?"
I bury my head into his shoulder and breathe in his scent. He smells like rain and sweat. His skin is slick from the rain.
"What happened, Carmen?" He whispers.
I don't want to relive the memories of the morning. I am cold. I am wet and I just want him to hold me. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Deep circles are etched under my eyes and my skin is splotchy. My teeth chatter. My mother would be ashamed of me.
"Let's get you cleaned up."
A/N: Sorry this has taken so long to be put up. Sometimes real life gets in the way.