Finnick sat as patiently as he could manage, waiting for Dr. Antonius to finish talking before asking his question. He wasn't a doctor, and didn't care about or understand the medical jargon the man used. "What does that mean for us?" he asked the instant the doctor paused.
"If you'd let me finish, Mr. Odair, I would have told you that it means that Miss Cresta is improving and ready to return to District Four," Antonius sniffed.
He couldn't help the grin that immediately spread across his face. He looked over to the two women also seated in Dr. Antonius's cramped office. Annie had pressed herself against Mags's side, and Mags had wrapped her arm around the younger woman. Mags was absolutely beaming at the good news. She squeezed Annie a bit tighter, and the other woman straightened in her chair.
Annie smiled nervously. "You think I'm better?" she asked.
"No, though I do think you've made definite progress," the doctor answered. "I'm fairly certain you're no longer a threat to yourself or others. Would you agree?"
Finnick noticed that it took Annie a moment to nod, but he was not worried. Every Victor was a threat. These people had murdered children – how could they not be?
Dr. Antonius cleared his throat, forcing Finnick's attention back to the conversation. The man was now directing his words towards Annie. "Many Victors report flashbacks, nightmares, panic attacks, and personality changes. Given what happened to you in the Arena, I believe you'll experience some or all of these as well. Don't be ashamed or embarrassed to call me if you're having these problems, Annie. It's a perfectly normal human response to a traumatic event, and I'm always here to help."
He still didn't like Annie's doctor, but the man's gentle, direct explanation to Annie made Finnick wonder if he'd perhaps been too harsh in his original estimation of Antonius. He thanked the doctor, who quickly finished the paperwork that would allow Annie to finally leave the hospital.
Finnick offered an arm to both Annie and Mags, and together the three of them walked outside. When Annie shielded her eyes from the sun, Finnick could not help but be reminded of the girl he'd fallen in love with. He laughed and hugged her close, happy that she leaned further into his embrace.
Oh no. They were still in the Capitol, where every street was monitored by dozens of surveillance cameras. Snow had made it exceedingly clear that Finnick was to remain single for his legions of Capitol followers. Even though Annie was now a Victor, any visible sign of affection between the two of them still put her at risk. To the Capitolites, she was little more than a mad girl; her disappearance or death would mean nothing to them.
Finnick pulled away from Annie, his heart breaking when he saw the disappointment in her eyes. He would explain later.
"We'll have to make a plan for your crowning," Mags said.
Finnick cursed under his breath.
"Language," Mags scolded, and she poked him in the ribs.
The look on Annie's face was identical to the expression he had seen on dozens of tribute's faces in the moment they realized they were going to lose. Finnick wanted so badly to cocoon her in his arms and comfort her, to tell her that he would never let anyone hurt her, but he knew he could not. He searched for a solution, but could think of nothing. Every year, Snow crowned a new Victor. This year would be no different.
"I … I can do it," Annie stuttered. She took a deep breath before repeating herself. "I can do it. I'll be fine." This time, her voice was steady, and she managed a weak smile.
Finnick looked into her eyes and nodded. "Of course she'll be fine!" he said in the most enthusiastic voice he could muster. "She's our Annie, after all."
For the first time in weeks, he believed it could be true.
The next few days passed in a horrible blur. Annie had a breakdown in front of the nation during her interview with Caesar. She screamed at the audience and clawed at her ears, yelling for a woman that nobody else could hear to leave her alone. Mags, with the help of two armored Peacekeepers, escorted her off the stage, and Finnick took her place.
He pushed down the disgust he felt watching Annie's Games footage, instead keeping up a playful banter with Caesar for the cameras. He did his best to keep the conversation on this year's batch of post-Games parties; that way, he didn't have to watch as the woman he loved saw her friend beheaded and sank into madness.
Finally, the time came for President Snow to present him with the Victor's Crown. Every interaction with this reptile made him sick, but usually there was no reason to hide his anger and disgust. Here, he had to be grateful to Snow. Finnick shook as the president handed him the crown to give to Annie, and though he tried to pass it off as excitement, he knew Snow could see right through him. The man knew exactly what Annie meant to him, and he would not hesitate to use that against his most popular Victor.
When the crowning was finally finished, Finnick raced back to the District Four apartment to make sure that Annie was all right. Her attacks had not been violent recently, but he feared that the reminders of the Arena might have been too much for her.
Annie flew into his arms the moment he stepped out of the elevator. He buried his head in her hair, happy just to be close to his love again.
Tomorrow, for the first time in three months, they would be home in District Four. He and Annie could finally be together.
In the next weeks, Finnick found himself measuring time not in days or weeks, but in changes in Annie's behavior. At first, when her attacks hit, she would shout and scream, scratching her ears and cheeks in an attempt to stop the voice from hurting her. He and Mags would try to help, but found that all they could do was restrain her so she did not seriously harm herself. Luckily, that phase soon ended. Finnick believed that being home again, away from the Capitol and the memories of her Games, had helped Annie immensely. Her reactions became less severe: instead of hurting herself, she only covered her ears, though she did still scream. But eventually, even the screaming stopped. Now, Finnick was generally able to calm her down. Annie was getting better.
They took frequent walks along the beach together, wading into the surf together and holding hands. With Annie by his side, Finnick felt happier than he had in years. He wanted their friendship and love to never end, but he also knew that any lasting relationship between the two of them had to be built on honesty. He had to confess to Annie his activities in the Capitol.
He chose to bring up the topic during one of their evening walks. "Annie, I need to talk to you about something," he said.
Annie immediately noticed the nervousness in his voice and turned to look into his eyes. "Finnick, are you all right?" she asked.
A part of him wanted to nod and act as though nothing had happened, but he knew that wouldn't be fair to her. "I need to tell you about what I do in the Capitol."
Something in her face changed. "Okay," she whispered. Annie sat down on the sand, and she motioned for him to sit next to her.
For a long moment, he kept silent, allowing the water to tickle his toes. "I don't really know how to say this."
"Don't worry about wording this the right way, Finnick. Just get it out. It'll help, I promise."
He took a deep breath. "President Snow sells me and I ruined you," he blurted. Finnick buried his head in his hands, terrified that he had just scared away Annie. After all, what kind of woman would want filth like him?
He felt small, warm hands pry his hands away from his eyes. When he looked up, a pair of sparkling green eyes was just inches away from his face. "It's okay, Finnick," she murmured before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "I think I've known what was happening for a long time, but I just didn't want to accept that something so terrible could be happening to someone I cared about."
Her words soothed some of his guilt, but he could not ignore what he had done to her for long. "I'm so sorry for hurting you."
"What do you mean, Finnick? You've never, ever hurt me."
"Yes I did." His voiced cracked with emotion. "I used you. I know what sex does to people, how it ruins them. I knew how it breaks people, but I still did it with you. I'm so sorry. Believe me when I say that if I could take it back, I would."
Annie stared at him, dumbfounded. "That's ridiculous. I stand by what I said earlier – you didn't hurt me. I practically ripped your clothes off and begged you to have sex with me. That's about as far from you using me as I can possibly imagine."
"I was the experienced one. I knew exactly how sex could hurt you, but I did it anyway." Finnick would not allow her to take the blame for what had happened between them.
"Don't be difficult. Rape hurts people, not sex. I enjoyed what we did, and it's not what caused me to … to get hurt in the Arena." She forced him to look into her eyes. "Finnick Odair, you have never hurt me. Remember that."
"I'm a man, they can't rape me. Let's let this be and talk about something else. The fishing's been good this year."
Annie would not allow him change the subject. "No, what they do to you is rape," she insisted. "Snow takes your choice away, doesn't he? You can't say no to those people, and that's what makes it rape, not your gender or anything else. I've seen your face after your trips to the Capitol. You look hurt, broken. That's what they do to you. That's not what it was like between you and I, at least for me it wasn't. I hope I didn't hurt you, did I?"
Finnick shook his head. No, sex with Annie had been wonderful.
"You didn't hurt me, Finnick." Annie kissed his cheek, and only then did he realize that he'd been crying. She gathered him up in her arms and rubbed his back as he let his bottled-up emotions flow freely.
After Finnick's tears were finished, they lied together on the sand, cool without the sun to heat it. "Annie, what are we, exactly?" he asked.
"Well, you're a Finnick, and I'm an Annie. That seems pretty obvious," Annie laughed.
He snorted. "I meant, what is our relationship? Are we friends, lovers, something in between?"
"We're friends."
"Friends who kiss?" He leaned in closer to press a kiss to her lips.
Annie smiled as they separated. "That's all lovers are, best friends who kiss. Don't you agree?" She pulled him back so that his lips met hers again.
He didn't answer, because that would require breaking their embrace. He supposed she was right, in a way. He and Annie were best friends and lovers, and they did love to kiss, but they were also something more, something he doubted he'd ever have the words to explain. He didn't need words. This feeling was more than enough.
A/N: That concludes the main body of the story! Thank you so much for reading! Extra thanks to meksters, bsmj, and Nola for reviewing – your feedback was wonderful and super-helpful. As always, reviews are much appreciated. I do plan to write an epilogue, and it should be up sometime in the next week or two. Thanks again for reading!