Finnick Odair

If you undergo a traumatic incident, all of a sudden everyone thinks you're some kind of crazy lunatic or crazy superhero. Well, guess I'd fall into the former category.

Then, when that happens, of course the bozos in charge send you off to rehab without a second thought. Oh- did I say rehab? I meant therapy. It feels more like rehab.

But Annie's here. That's all that matters. She's safe, and I'd go to a million therapy sessions for her safety and happiness.

My therapist is a creep. He's a complete loser who's never been with a girl and would be a complete womanizer if he was actually attractive.

But he's not.

A little birdie told me his real name was Chester, but he insists it's Flint now. Chester's got muddy brown hair with gray sprouting up in odd places, a funky bald spot in the back of his head, a blue mouth piercing, and a crinkly face from squinting too much.

"So," he says, his lip ring wobbling to and fro. I grimace at him and stay quiet.

"I think we need to talk about your love life, Fannack." Chess Chester calls me- wait, did I just say Chess Chester? Great nickname, me. For short, let's call him Pawn.

Anyways, Pawn always calls me Fannack, only the way he says it, it sounds like Fanatic. He doesn't really mean to- he just sincerely doesn't know my name.

Plus, the guy pretends I've got a problem socializing with females just so he can listen to my love life. Which- oh yeah- is perfectly fine and not like the boisterous stories I tell him to make him happy. Pawn knows less than half the truth about my life. Pressing on, he says,

"Who have you interacted with since our last session?" Slow and clear, as if he were talking to a little kid.

Oh yeah. I just remembered- I'm not one of those.

"And I mean females, Fannack." As tired as I am- I only got here about 2 weeks ago and I haven't been able to get an ounce of sleep- I conjure a wild tale for Pawn up in my head.

"On Tuesday, I said hi to Dyess and she said hi back. Then I walked away because she smelled like man." Inside, I giggled- no, chuckled. A more manlier word.

"On Wednesday, Michelle and Cleo came up to me and murmured a giggly greeting. Then they started kissing, right there in front of me! I was like, Eew!" Chuckle chuckle chuckle. Chester Chester Chester.

"Finally, yesterday, I made a move on Diana- the curvy one. I said to her, 'Is something on fire? Or are you just smokin' hot?' and she laughed and invited me to her room and that night we-we did it. I romped her all through the night."

Then I shut up, real Finnick again. Sad that the fantastical story of Diana was over, Pawny droned on.

"Well, how has the medicine been working?" he said monotonously.

"Oh, great! What I don't understand is why they couldn't pack the medicine into one or two pills instead of 12." I said with an innocent smirk. It was so much fun manipulating Crinkle Face. I watched his face go bright red, his slacker smile droop.

"You… do… take... 2… pills… not… 12!"

And I swear, I literally swear, steam came out of the man's ears. Chester got so mad that he started swearing at me in what may have been Latin, but he was screaming so fast it sounded more like a dying goat bawking out gibberish.

It was absolutely hilarious.

Delly Cartwright

"What about you, Papa?" I scream to my father, my eyes watering. I'm not sure if it's from the smoke or because I'm crying. Probably both.

Sirens are echoing throughout the district, mixed with people's terrified screams and pleas for help. People pleading for their lives.

His eyes are filled with sadness and I think I see a tear trickle down his pale cheek. He rushes over to my brother and I, enveloping us in a tight hug before pulling away and looking into both our eyes.

"Delly, Giovanni, your mother, and I love you very much, never forget that. Take care of each other, protect each other. Now go!" he says, pushing us out the door and running back inside.

Giovanni grabs my hand and starts running, pulling me along.

That's when the next wave of bombs hit.

"Delly! Delly!" My eyes immediately pop open to reveal the worried face of my 15-year old brother, Giovanni. His wavy blonde hair is a mess, falling into his clear blue eyes.

I take a moment to settle my breathing before sitting up on the simple gray bed, my hands shaking. Giovanni's face relaxes slightly before he grabs my small, pale hands in his large ones. "What was it?" He asks, looking into my eyes, of which I could see my own reflection.

My hair is a stringy mess, falling just below my shoulders. My blue eyes are filled with nothing, not a single ounce of emotion, and surrounded by dark purple bruises from my lack of sleep. My cheeks are slightly hollowed in. To say the least, I was a huge mess.

"The bombing… Papa…" I mutter, my gaze averting from his face to the shiny white floor of our room. Giovanni puts his hand under my chin, lifting my head so I'm looking at him.

"It's okay Delly, everything's going to be fine. I know it's painful now, but Mama and Papa wanted us to live, to enjoy our lives." He says, taking his hand away from my face.

I shake my head, tears threatening to spill out of my eyes. "How is everything going to be okay? How can we enjoy our lives when they're dead?" I say, my eyes searching his face. "I wish I died with them."

Giovanni's clear blue eyes are suddenly clouded with pain and his features fill with disbelief. "I can't believe how selfish you're being… Did you ever think about the people that love you? Me, Peeta, Deanna, Greasy Sae, Harlow? The damn list goes on! And all you can wish is that you were dead? Did you ever think about how we would feel if you died?" he quietly yells.

"I… I… nev-" I sputter out, but Giovanni interrupts me.

"No, no you didn't! Of course you didn't…" he says, getting up from my bed, which causes it to creak, and going to his dresser, throwing open the doors and making them hit the wall with a loud thump.

"Where are you going?" I ask as he slips on his mandatory gray District 13 uniform and slams the doors closed again.

He doesn't say anything, doesn't look at me, just walks out of the room and slams the door closed.

My head hangs low as I grab my tray of… whatever this green stuff is on my tray. My blonde hair is almost falling into it so I lift my gaze slightly only to find Peeta sitting alone at one of the white cafeteria tables, staring into space.

I slowly make my way over to the table, the talking forming a constant buzz around me. The talking around me seems to be taunting me, as I catch small parts of one conversation. "To blame", "Her fault", and "Selfish" are what come up.

I sigh as I sit across from Peeta, who seems to be looking right through me with his clear blue eyes, which are filled with no emotion at all. I'm guessing that's pretty much what I look like, from what I saw earlier.

"Peeta…?" I say, waving my hand in front of his face. When he doesn't move I touch his hand and he shakes his head, seeming to come back to reality.

"Oh, Delly! When'd you get here?" he asks, trying to form a smile on his lips but failing. I give him a sympathetic smile, knowing he misses Katniss dearly. He doesn't even know if she's alive.

"Just a minute ago." I say, and pick up my fork, pushing the green stuff around the tray. "How are you?" I finally ask, looking into Peeta's blue eyes.

He sighs before putting his face into his hands. "I feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest and been through a paper shredder. I just feel… empty… alone… like I'm missing a part of myself. I keep hoping that she's alive but even if she is, I know she's being tortured and put through pain because of me." He says, taking away his hands to reveal tears streaming down his face.

I absentmindedly grab his hands across the table before looking into his eyes. "Peeta… it's okay. I'm here for you. Same with Finnick, Beetee, Annie, Haymitch, and many others. We'll fight, Peeta, we're going to fight to get Katniss back. We're going to fight for our freedom. Everything will be alright." Tears stream down my face as I squeeze Peeta's hands gently. "Everything will be alright." I choke out, more for myself than for Peeta, for now I fully understand what Giovanni meant earlier.

I let go of Peeta's hands and wipe away the tears that were flowing freely from my eyes a few seconds ago. "Peeta, I'll be right back. I have to do something quickly." I say and he nods, picking up his fork.

"Thank you." He says softly, looking straight into my eyes, which now are filled with hope. I nod, giving him a small smile.

Getting up, I see Giovanni in the lineup waiting to get his food; his face filled with sadness and pain.

I immediately break into a run before running into his arms. He wraps his arms around my shoulders, tears flowing freely out of my eyes again, as he rubs comforting circles on my back.

All I manage to sputter out is, "Everything is going to be okay, we're going to be okay".

A/N Alrighty, wasn't that an interesting mix of emotions? Anyways, we forgot to mention it last chapter, but I wrote Peeta's passage and Take Life's Chances wrote for Katniss. This chapter, I wrote Peeta and she wrote Delly. Sometimes I almost take her amazing writing skill for granted.