Annie's eyes were huge turquoise pools in her bloodless face. She stared at Finnick, lips trembling, feathery eyelashes stark against her white skin.

And then she collapsed like a cut flower.

Finnick lunged forward, caught her body before it hit the floor, alarmed at how light it was. With infinite gentleness, he carried her out of the crowd of District Thirteen citizens reuniting with the military, away from the hovercrafts that had brought all the civilians to the Capitol, into the great mess hall where he could sit down on a plastic chair in a corner and be with no one but her.

Her arms had tightened around his neck as he had been walking, and when he sat down, cradling her tenderly, she pressed her face to his neck, wetting it with her hot tears.

"You were dead," she sobbed, body shaking under Finnick's hands. "You were dead…"

Finnick pushed his face against her tousled hair, held her closer and realized he could feel ribs through her clothing, and swallowed hard. "It's all right, mermaid," he whispered. "I'm here. I'm here."

But she only cried harder, with real anguish behind her tears. She pressed her slight body against Finnick's, fingers clenching in the leather of his jacket. "Shh," soothed Finnick, running a hand up and down her back. "Shh, it's all right."

"I didn't cry when you died," gasped Annie. "I was so scared they'd find me…" And that look was back in her eyes…

Finnick bowed his head, eyes shut in pain. "Don't worry," he murmured, holding her close. "No one will find you. You're safe."

Finnick, with an orderly's help, found Gale in the barracks rec room.

"Finnick!" Gale strode towards him, shoulders sagging in relief. "Jesus Christ, man…" He abruptly pulled Finnick into a rough hug, thumping him on the back. Finnick, startled but gratified at this show of emotion, cleared his throat and stepped back.

"How're you?" he asked.

Gale shrugged, then winced. "Not too bad," he said. "Got a couple bullets in the shoulder, no big deal…"

"Uh-huh," said Finnick, grinning. "No big deal. Sure."

"Really, it isn't," said Gale. Looking around the crowded room with distaste, he added, "Let's find somewhere else to talk."

They ended up on the roof, looking out at a substantially-darkened nighttime Capitol. Finnick watched in surprise as Gale took a cigarette out of the pack in his uniform pocket and lit it. "I didn't know you smoked."

"I only just picked it up," said Gale, putting his lighter back in his pocket. Leaning on the iron railing, he took a drag from his cigarette. "So what happened to you?"

Finnick leaned his forearms on the rail next to him, looking out at the city. "Well, when Katniss threw that bomb, it killed all the mutts but it blew up the ladder, too…I probably would've wandered forever down there if I hadn't run into an Avox who guided me to the surface. Then I just holed out in an old friend's apartment until I saw that things were coming to a close." He looked at Gale. "What about you? Were you with Katniss the whole time?"

"Most of it," said Gale, breathing out smoke. "Right at the end, before she hit the City Circle, I got captured by a couple of Peacekeepers. I escaped, but got these – " he rolled his injured shoulder back " – as souvenirs." He turned his head to look at Finnick seriously. "You – you know what happened, with the kids?"

"Yeah, I heard," said Finnick grimly. "I never thought Coin'd do something like that…"

Gale looked down at his feet. After a while he spoke again. "How's Annie?"

"She's…all right." Finnick knotted his hands together, took a deep breath. "Thinking I died…it really made things worse for her. But she's getting better." Inside of Finnick was a little pearl of happiness that glowed whenever he thought of what Annie had whispered to him that one night, when she had told him of the new life growing inside her. Sometime he would tell Gale, Evans, the whole world. But not yet. Right now it belonged to him and Annie.

"How's Katniss?" asked Finnick.

Sighing, Gale shook his head, tapping ash off the end of his cigarette. "I haven't seen her," he said in a low voice. "She was right there when the bombs went off…she's a mess…"

"Physically or mentally?" asked Finnick cautiously.

"Both," said Gale muttered. "Her sister, Prim, was killed…"

Finnick lowered his head in sympathetic pain. After a minute, he asked, "But why don't you visit her?"

"I can't face her," Gale admitted. His face was haunted, guilty. "If those bombs had gone off five seconds later…if she'd arrived five seconds earlier…I can't stand the thought…"

"But – " Finnick still didn't understand. "What does it matter? You didn't have anything to do with it."

Gale raised his head to look at Finnick, eyes tormented. "I had everything to do with it," he said hoarsely. "Finnick, that was my idea. My order."

"Yours…" Finnick stared at Gale. "How – "

"We dropped the first bomb," said Gale, looking back at the city, voice shaking as he tried to explain. "Then our medics came in. Then we dropped all the others, hoping everyone would believe that this was the Capitol's last, horrible effort to kill us. Beetee didn't want to, but Coin approved it, and so…"

Finnick was speechless. At last, he managed gasp "Why? For God's sake, Gale, why?"

"I don't know!" burst out Gale, fists clenched in frustration. "It seemed right, seemed like the strategic thing to do…You don't understand, I would have done anything, anything to end the Capitol's domination over us – anything!" His passionate outburst done, he fell silent. "And now I've lost Katniss," he said quietly, dropping his head.

"You don't know that – "

"I killed her sister!"

"Gale, she cares about you, I know she does," said Finnick firmly. "I was with her when you were gone rescuing Peeta and Annie, and she was worried sick about you – "

"That was a long time ago," said Gale brusquely, tossing his cigarette down. "And we were both with her when she decided to keep Peeta alive even though he was a raging, hijacked, son of a b-tch – " Gale's voice was starting to shake, and his face was furrowed in pain. "We've been growing farther and farther apart, and now – I've lost her!" With a gasp he jerked his head down to his clenched fists, his shoulders shaking with dry sobs.

Finnick stared at Gale, unsure of what to do. Then he moved closer to him and put his arm around Gale's shoulders, gripping them tightly, trying to express his commiseration at a breaking heart.

Gale did not respond, but remained hunched over the railing, silent as he gradually brought himself under control. At last he straightened and Finnick removed his arm.

"Sorry," said Gale, wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand and turning away. "Sh-t – "

"It's fine," said Finnick.

"If you ever mention this to any of the guys – " Gale rounded on Finnick with his finger pointed threateningly.

"Would I?" asked Finnick. "Really?"

"Guess not," said Gale. Turning back away, he cleared his throat violently.

Finnick against the rail again, watching Gale with a mixture of amusement and sympathy. "Are you staying here?" he asked.

"No," said Gale, facing Finnick again. "No, once I get cleared, I'm shipping out with the other units to Two. There's still serious resistance there."

"I don't envy you," said Finnick quietly.

"At least there I have an excuse for not seeing her," said Gale, voice rough. "And if I get blown up, maybe she'll think better of me."

"Don't say that," said Finnick. It felt horribly inadequate, but was all he could say.

Gale wandered away, lighting another cigarette. After a while, Finnick left the rooftop.

There was only one person Finnick cared about now, and that was Annie.

He never left her side – not to eat, or sleep, or anything. He needed her, and she needed him more than she ever had since those first heartbreaking days after she won her Games. Finnick didn't bother now about wars, or presidents, or hovercrafts. His world was bounded in by blue-green eyes and brown silky hair.

So when he walked into the meeting room, with Annie's hand wrapped in his, called there for some unspecified purpose by that woman Coin, it took him a minute to switch back to his old mindset that remembered what had happened and what still could.

Beetee was there too, sitting in his wheelchair. Finnick drew out a chair for Annie next to him and seated himself on her other side. "Hi, Beetee," he said.

The light flashing on his glasses, Beetee nodded to him. "Hello, Finnick," he said. "Good morning, Annie." He spoke pleasantly, but there was a grimness to his mouth and a wariness in his eyes behind those thick lenses that Finnick wondered about.

Peeta and Haymitch entered then. Finnick nodded to both of them, and Annie managed a shy smile for Peeta, though she avoided Haymitch's gaze. Johanna she ignored, but when Enobaria strolled in, she turned away from the District Two victor's hatchet face with a shudder and hid her face in Finnick's side under the shelter of his arm.

The last person to enter was Katniss, who looked better than Finnick expected, though definitely not well, her eyes dazed and haunted. "What's this?" she asked.

"We're not sure," said Haymitch wryly. "It appears to be a gathering of the remaining victors."

This was all of them? Sh-t…

"We're all that's left?" asked Katniss, eyes widening.

"The price of celebrity. We were targeted from both sides," said Beetee. No wonder he had been looking grim. "The Capitol killed the victors they suspected of being rebels. The rebels killed those thought to be allied with the Capitol."

Finnick thought of Connor, and his murdered family. He was sure Annie did, too, because she pressed herself closer to his side.

Johanna was frowning at Enobaria. "So what's she doing here?"

"She is protected under what we call the Mockingjay Deal." The woman Coin had walked through the door behind Katniss, for once unaccompanied. Finnick immediately went tense. "Wherein Katniss Everdeen agreed to support the rebels in exchange for captured victors' immunity. Katniss has upheld her side of the bargain – " Was Finnick imagining it, or did he really see that swift flash of displeasure on her face? " – and so shall we."

Enobaria grinned, her thin lips pressed together. Johanna scowled. "Don't look so smug," she snapped, folding her arms. "We'll kill you anyway."

Coin closed the door with a snap, and Finnick immediately felt trapped. "Sit down, please, Katniss."

Katniss chose the empty chair in between Beetee and Annie, who glanced at her with a slight frown – perhaps because she instinctively understood Katniss' condition. But there was no chance for conversation. The woman started talking immediately in clipped tones that might have been orders.

"I've asked you here to settle a debate. Today we will execute Snow." That was news to Finnick, though he still felt a vindictive satisfaction at the thought of Snow, dead. "In the previous weeks, hundreds of his accomplices in the oppression of Panem have been tried and now await their own deaths." Annie tensed, and Finnick rubbed a hand on her arm soothingly. "However, the suffering in the districts has been so extreme that these measures appear insufficient to the victims. In fact, many are calling for a complete annihilation of those who held Capitol citizenship. However, in the interest of maintaining a sustainable population, we cannot afford this."

A vicious surge of hatred for the woman caused Finnick's fist to clench. So that was the only reason a complete massacre against a mostly harmless people was wrong, was it?

"So, an alternative has been placed on the table," she continued. "Since my colleagues and I can come to no consensus, it has been agreed that we will let the victors decide. A majority of five will approve the plan, and in event of a tie, my vote will decide it. No one may abstain from the vote." Finnick narrowed his eyes at her, already sure he would vote against whatever it was. "What has been proposed is that in lieu of eliminating the entire Capitol population, we have a final, symbolic Hunger Games, using the children directly related to those who held the most power."

What.

The.

F—k.

"What?" said Johanna.

"We hold another Hunger Games using Capitol children." The woman's face was completely emotionless. She might have been ordering the decrease of food rations back at Thirteen.

"Are you joking?" asked Peeta, his eyebrows scrunched over his blue eyes.

"No." As if the woman ever joked. "I should also tell you that if we do hold the Games, it will be known it was done with your approval, although the individual breakdown of your votes will be kept secret for your own security."

No! No, no, and no again! Every fiber of Finnick's body screamed Wrong! This was the very thing they had been fighting against, hadn't it? Breaking from his shocked disbelief, Finnick looked down at Annie, and saw the strangest expression on her face. She was staring at the woman with her eyebrows arched dangerously, her eyelids half-lowered, and her lips parted slightly over her teeth.

"Was this Plutarch's idea?" asked Haymitch.

"It was mine." Of course. Who else would come up with something so utterly wrong? "It seemed to balance the need for vengeance with the least loss of life. You may cast your votes."

"No!" said Peeta immediately. "I vote no, of course! We can't have another Hunger Games!"

"Why not?" snapped Johanna, before Finnick could support Peeta. "It seems very fair to me. Snow even has a granddaughter. I vote yes."

Annie's soft cry of "No!" was lost behind Enobaria's words. "So do I. Let them have a taste of their own medicine."

"This is why we rebelled! Remember?" Peeta looked straight at Finnick, and for once they completely understood each other.

"I vote no as well," said Finnick, as firmly as possible. "Annie?" He looked down at her, meeting her eyes. She nodded, frowning in her anger against the woman.

"Annie votes no, too," said Finnick, almost belligerently. "So that's two for, three against."

"It would set a bad precedent," said Beetee, stocky and solid in his determination. "We have to stop viewing one another as enemies. At this point, unity is essential for our survival. No."

"We're down to Katniss and Haymitch." The woman seemed completely unconcerned that they were only one vote away from losing her plan. Finnick realized she was counting on Haymitch's bitterness, and Katniss'…what?

There was a long silence as she thought, looking at the white rose she had brought in a glass of water, chewing her lip. At last she voted, yes. "For Prim."

"No!" Finnick jumped up, glaring at her fiercely. "Katniss, no! You know how the Hunger Games ruined our lives! Do you want to do that to more innocent children? Children who have no right to suffer for the mistakes of their parents and grandparents?"

"Sit down, Finnick," said the woman coldly.

"No!" he shouted. A dark heat was rising inside him. "Do you think I'm just going to sit here and let you carry out your sick ideas? Katniss, back me up here!"

But she didn't answer. She just turned away, arms folded, biting her lip. Finnick's hands fell limply at his sides as the truth hit him with all the weight of a thousand tons.

"Oh my God," he breathed, staring at her. "You really are just a mascot."

"Don't say that!" burst out Peeta, jumping up as well, but Finnick ignored him.

"We followed you," said Finnick, betrayal breaking through his shock. "We trusted you! We all believed you were the leader – "

"No – "

"You were supposed to be this shining beacon!" The words tore out of Finnick, harsh and desperate, and Katniss drew back uncertainly. "Every one of those rebels who died did it for you, because they believed you were leading us towards a better future!"

"I am!" Her protest was small and unconvincing.

"No, you're not." Finnick's voice was heavy with disgust. "You don't even believe that yourself." She looked down, upset, and Haymitch frowned at Finnick. "We all know who the real leader is."

Slowly, everyone's eyes turned to the woman. She looked as unruffled as ever.

"Congratulations, Soldier Odair," she said. And something in her tone made the hairs on the back of Finnick's neck stand on end. "But don't look so surprised. I'm sure you're no stranger to the fact that sometimes illusion is more comfortable than reality."

Annie's trembling hand found its way onto Finnick's arm. He took it, holding it firmly in both his hands as he met the woman's stare. "There's still one vote left," said Finnick softly. "If it's against, then you don't get your Hunger Games."

"But if it's for," said the woman, "then that brings us to a tie. Which I will break by voting yes."

"Well then." Finnick looked at the grizzled victor at the end of the table. "I guess it's up to Haymitch."

Everyone's heads swiveled around to face him, waiting expectantly for his answer. He was not looking at any of them, but at his own interlaced fingers. To say the air was thick with tension was a gross understatement.

Haymitch cleared his throat. "I'm with the Mockingjay."

"Excellent," said the woman, already turning to go. "Now we really must take our places for the execution."

As she left, Finnick kicked the leg of the table with a frustrated growl, then fell back into his seat. Annie rubbed his arm soothingly, leaning towards him. "It's all right, Finnick," she said.

He stared at her in disbelief. "All right? How can you say that, Annie?"

She dropped her eyes, biting her lip. A hard hand fell on Finnick's shoulder and he looked up. It was Haymitch.

"What?" snapped Finnick.

The aging victor didn't react, just nodded towards the flurry of activity in the room. "The execution's about to start. We'd better go."

Annie's hand on his arm trembled, and Finnick wound his fingers through hers, though he did not look away from Haymitch. "Why did you do it?" he said quietly, searching his gray eyes for an answer. "What could possibly have motivated you?"

He opened his mouth to answer. But the voice that called "Finnick! Annie!" wasn't his. It was the woman's.

"Aren't you coming?" she asked, but it might as well have been a command. Finnick rose with Annie, held her close to his side as they followed Johanna out to in front of the president's mansion. He didn't want her here, knew Annie would much rather have been somewhere else, but he couldn't send her off by herself and there was no one else around he trusted with her.

Several rows of seats had been set up for the important attendees. Finnick slid into a seat next to Peeta, keeping a firm hold on Annie's hand. As she sat down, she pulled her feet under her and pressed herself against him.

"I don't want to see him," she said into Finnick's shoulder.

She was referring to Snow. "I know, mermaid, I know," said Finnick gently, freeing one arm to stroke her hair. But he himself was staring avidly up at the balcony, waiting for the moment when his nemesis would finally appear for the very last time…

The woman walked out in spotless black, hair glistening in the cold sun. Most people in the crowd cheered. Finnick did not. Nor did he applaud when Katniss walked out. She would always be a friend, of course, but never again would he look to her for leadership. Her vote for this new Hunger Games and the disastrous leading of Squad 451 into the Capitol had fixed that.

At last the hated man himself appeared on the balcony. Finnick's upper lip pulled back instinctively in contempt as he saw how weak he was, how the guards holding him provided more support than restraint. When they tied his hands behind a post, it wasn't because he was going to run away but because he could not stand unsupported. Opposite him, Katniss drew her bow, put an arrow to the string. Annie had hid her face in his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, but he was quivering with vicious anticipation. If it had been he up there, Snow would be long dead…But the two of them just stared at each other, the dying president and the failed Mockingjay.

And Katniss shot President Coin instead.

The hum of the hovercraft as it sped towards District Four was barely louder than the sound of the wind rushing against its metal hull. It was enough to lull Annie to sleep, cradled in Finnick's arms, as he lounged in one of the padded wall seats and watched the distant scenery flash by through the window.

It had taken him two weeks to get the authorization and transportation to get out of the Capitol, two agonizing weeks of uncertainty and fear. Because even though the woman was dead, there was any number of equally ruthless people who could take her place. But Paylor from District Eight had taken her place instead, and Katniss would be let off on plea of insanity. He'd said his goodbyes, to Gale, Evans, Beetee. And now he and Annie were finally going home.

She stirred in his arms, raised her head and blinked sleepily. "Where are we?"

"Not sure," said Finnick. "Close to the coast, I think."

"Mm." Annie straightened, shifting to a more upright position on his lap. "Finnick, how do we know President Paylor is a good leader?"

"What?" Taken aback by the abrupt question, Finnick looked at her. "Where did that come from?"

Annie ignored his question. "How do we know she's a good leader?" she persisted.

Finnick shrugged. "We don't," he said. "Not really. She did a good job with Eight – "

"So why is she president?" Annie demanded.

Bemused by Annie's sudden interest, Finnick shrugged. "Because there's no one better, I guess."

"So what if she turns out like Coin?" asked Annie vehemently, eyebrows slanting downwards. "What if she turns out worse?"

Finnick grinned. "Then we'll just get ourselves a new president."

"No!" Annie's eyes filled with angry tears and she beat her fists on his chest. Finnick shushed her, taking her wrists, but she would not be soothed. "Finnick, don't you see? It'll never end! It'll just keep going, and going, and going! And why are you happy?"

"Why?" Smiling, Finnick tilted his face towards hers. "I'm happy because you're safe. I'm happy because you're here. And I'm happy because you're wrong."

Annie frowned at him. "Wrong about what?"

"That it'll never end. It will, Annie. Someday all the Snows and Coins will be gone, or they'll be so powerless they won't be able to bother the decent people. You'll see."

She did not look like she agreed with him. "How do you know?"

"Annie, Annie." Finnick brought his face close to hers, touched her nose with his. "Haven't you learned that it's not what you know, but what you believe?"

"That's rubbish," she said, laughing.

"Is it?" Gently, Finnick slid her off his lap and stood up to look out the windows. A flash of light caught his attention and he walked over to one, leaning against the sun-heated glass.

"Finnick?" Annie came to his side. "What is it?"

He pointed to the horizon, where the sun shone off the glassy blueness of the sea. "It's the ocean, mermaid," he said softly.

Entranced, she leaned forward as well, her hands resting on the metal rail. Finnick slipped behind her, brought his arms around her waist, rested his chin on her shoulder. And together, flooded in sunlight, they watched the light dance on never-ceasing waves.