"We can't risk a transmission right now, Finnick. Thirteen knows that she needs out of Four."
He had never liked Plutarch Heavensbee, and considering the man's cool demeanor as he said that Annie's safety was not worth the tiny risk of a quick radio signal, Finnick could not see that ever changing. "Just go sit down and don't worry about it."
He had been around Capitol people long enough to know when he had been dismissed. Finnick wrapped the loose-fitting green shirt tighter around himself and moved next to the still-unconscious Girl on Fire. He hoped that she really was worth all the trouble he had gone to, and from what he had seen in the last few minutes of that Arena, she might be. Her breaths were long and even, and if he had fewer worries, perhaps they would have lulled him to sleep as well. Instead, he sat between the mastermind of the revolution and its symbol, both unconscious, and worried. About the rebellion, about Four, about everything because the world seemed to be falling apart around him, but mostly about Annie. He did not know just how much worry she needed.
Finnick curled his legs up to his chest to try to warm himself up, but it did not work. He could not stop shaking, too exhausted to control his muscles but too scared to fall asleep.
He did not know how long he had been waiting when Haymitch came in. "We're here. C'mon."
"Where's Annie? Is she here yet?"
"Kid, I need you to sit down."
"What's wrong?"
Haymitch pushed him backwards. "Kid, I really need you to sit down now."
He stumbled back a few steps before falling on his bottom. Finnick did not feel the pain that must have coursed through him. He looked up at him, tears already stinging his eyes and throat tightening. "Where… where is she?"
"She's in the Capitol. They got her."
Maybe Haymitch tried to comfort him. Finnick could not drag himself back to reality to know.