Finnick felt steadier when he finally exited the bathroom. His mind, though still foggy, could hold onto a single thread of thought for more than a few seconds. His legs felt more solid beneath him.

He crossed to his dresser and pulled out a plain white t-shirt, slipping it over his head. It hung loose over the equally plain gray sweatpants he'd put on before leaving the bathroom.

He could hear voices in the living room. Mags had come over from her apartment while he was in the shower. She'd be expecting him to come out soon. Could he face her? Could he face anyone?

Dexter must know something was wrong. Finnick's memory of arriving home was almost non-existent, but he knew he hadn't been able to act like he was okay. He'd barely been able to get himself from the limo to his apartment. What did Dex think?

Finnick swallowed and tried to shut his brain off. His inability to come up with a plan made anxiety tingle through him. Maybe it would be better to improvise.

With that thought, he turned the handle on his bedroom door before he could change his mind and stepped into the living room.

Mag's and Dexter's conversation cut off as he entered the room, both sets of eyes turning to study him, expressions solemn.

"Hey," Finnick said weakly.

"Made you tea," Dexter said. He gestured at the coffee table where a plume of steam rose from a mug.

"Thanks." Finnick sank onto the couch next to Mags, as far from her as he could, and rested his hand on the handle of the coffee mug. He stared at his knees, unable to meet their gazes, uncertain of what to say.

"Sweetheart." Mags shifted closer and rested a hand on his knee.

Finnick stiffened. That was how it had started with the other woman. A drink. A hand on his leg.

A desperate sob rose in his throat.

Finnick swallowed it, fighting the terrified adrenaline suddenly surging through his body again. He clenched his hands against the trembling.

"Sweetheart." The weight of the hand on his knee disappeared. "Sweetheart, it's okay. It's okay. No one here is going to hurt you."

He had tried to resist. He had tried to say no. But whatever drug the woman had put in his drink had made him unable to resist. He hadn't even been able to speak coherently to tell her no.

He hadn't needed to tell her no. The woman had known he didn't want it. She'd taunted him with her power and his inability to resist her. She'd told him she would hurt him, and she had.

A hand on his face, tipping his chin up, turning his head.

Finnick blinked and found himself looking into Mag's face. Her eyes were filled with hurt and concern.

There was moisture on his face. Tears leaking from his eyes.

"Sweetheart," Mags said again. "I'm so sorry."

She knew. How did she know?

"Dexter told me. It's true, isn't it?"

How did Dexter know?

Finnick forced words out, barely audible past the tightness in his throat. "Did you know?"

"I knew there were people who wanted to take advantage of you like this," Mags said. "But I thought Haymitch and I put an end to that possibility. The interest had died down. I didn't want to scare you. I should have warned you."

"Tonight. Did you know tonight?"

"I didn't know. I would have tried to stop it. I would have warned you."

"I couldn't move," Finnick choked. "I could say no. She...she..."

"I know." Mags pulled him into a hug, squeezing him tight.

The embrace released the tears Finnick had been fighting to hold back. A sob ripped from his chest. "It hurt."

"I know. I'm so sorry." She rubbed his back.

When the sobs calmed, Finnick took a deep, shuddering breath. "Will I have to do it again? I can't do it again."

"I don't know," Mags said. "I called Haymitch already. He's looking into it."

"He knows?" Shame flooded in.

"Honey, none of this is your fault."

"But Haymitch knows."

"Yes. He's going to try to help. We're going to try to make sure this doesn't happen again."

"It can't. I can't. I won't."

Mags didn't respond. Her arms tightened around him.

Finnick pushed away, staring at her. "I can't."

"I know."

He blinked, his heart racing at the sadness on her face.

"Mags, I can't."

"I know," she said more forcefully.

"Then. Then why..."

"This hasn't happened before. Not with the older victors. It's uncharted. I don't know... Snow isn't refused easily."

"What does that mean?"

"I wish I knew."