Chapter 20: Piece By Piece

Sounds of thunder echoed through the restless city as Sera quietly sorted a pile of flowers separating them with a gloved hand. Through the small gap in the curtains she could see droplets clouding up her window covering the vision of the night sky of the Capitol.

Occasionally, she'd stop to watch the games before carrying on with her task. Bunching up twelve stems of both white and purple lilacs, separating them and putting them with some ivy, she'd left on the side. She took some irises and carefully pruned them before adding them to her bouquet, placing them carefully between the white and purple lilacs and the ivy.

"Day Nine of the 69th Hunger Games." Caesar started to address the nation as sudden thunder echoed against the background of Sera's apartment.

Zephyr had surprised her and Panem. She didn't really think the older boy had what it took for him to win but now he was so close. There were only a handful of tributes left, if Zephyr played his cards right, he'd have no problem winning.

She had her doubts.

The tributes that year were particularly strong as if that wasn't enough, the arena was hellish. Plutarch Heavensbee wasn't lying when he said he wanted to put on an unforgettable show—it was an unforgettable show, alright. Maybe it was the blazing heat or something entirely else but the tributes were more vicious than previous years.

She couldn't even remember her games being that vicious. No, hers were more strategic. The long and cold drawn out days and nights that never seemed to end were less bloody but more heart wrenching.

"Ah, this might be one of the fastest games we've had so far." Claudius was speaking as the image of a tribute from 2 or 1 appeared on the screen.

"That's correct, a sharp contrast to last year's game. Maybe the gamemakers wanted to change it up." Caesar added, waving his hand to change the screens behind him to show a short clip of her game.

Snip.

A head of a lunaria was snipped of accidentally. She clicked her tongue and gathered the fallen head to discard it just as the screen showed Valor tossing Ripley's deformed body into the frozen lake. The screen didn't focus on the scene for a long time but her mind did.

Now, Zephyr was standing over the corpse of his last ally, strangely mirroring how Sera looked upon Gaius right after she mercy-killed him. Only Gaius and her knew whether the kill was merciful.

"Good morning." Finnick's oddly chipper voice cut through Sera's thoughts like a knife; she gently placed a half pruned stem of a white chrysanthemum down. "You look busy. I didn't really think you actually made bouquets for a living."

Sera stared up at him with a soft smile and checked the clock behind him on the wall. "It's actually evening." She removed her gloves and directed him over to the kitchen where she had left his dinner. "And second of all, my aunt's a florist. I used to help her out before."

Finnick glanced outside to the rainy window. The night sky of the Capitol twinkled brightly against the window through the drops of rain and fog covering the windows. "So it is." He took a seat near the kitchen counter just as Sera finished heating up his meal. "I slept through the day."

"And some." She added. "I already ate." She said before he could ask her. "I have to eat my meals on time for my medicine."

"Right. I'm sorry for overstaying my welcome."

"I didn't say you did. In fact," She hesitated speaking for a second, not knowing how to tell him she actually didn't like being alone after all, unlike him, she grew surrounded by her two siblings, a cousin and her aunt along with the constant presence of the Foret siblings. There wasn't a moment in her life where she was truly alone except the time she spent in the Capitol. "I…uh...I—"

"You enjoy my company?" He tried with a lopsided grin on his face as he stabbed a piece of shredded chicken.

"Don't get too comfortable. I just am not used to the silence and being alone all the time."

"Right. You grew up around a big family."

"Somewhat big. I was sick most of the time so my brother used to skip school when he could to play with me and my sister and aunt used to take turns taking care of me so being alone isn't something I'm used to."

He nodded. He understood even if he didn't know what that felt like. Somehow he envied her life in District 5. Sure, she might've struggled a little unlike him but she had people who loved her unconditionally. He envied her despite her sickly life, he really did envy her.

But he chased those thoughts away within seconds after they passed his mind. She was making an effort to be kind to him and he only realized after she had gone back to her task that it was the most he had heard her speak.

He felt like he had to say something back now that she had revealed something personal about her. He felt compelled to. "I am—no—I was the oldest in my family so I don't know what that's like."

"You were the oldest?" For some reason, maybe it was his carefree attitude, she always envisioned him as the youngest in his family. She never bothered to look too deeply into the personal lives of the victors when she looked up their games—it wouldn't help her win. She wanted to know how they won, not where they came from or what became of them.

Thinking about it, she was pretty selfish in her research but it wasn't like she had time to look at the aftermath—she should've looked into it.

"Did you think I was the youngest?" She nodded. "I had a sister who was two-three years younger than me and a brother—the baby of the family, he was only five when I won and then—" He exhaled loudly, lost in the haze of his memories. "...Then they all passed away."

The grip on her shears tightened before finally she put it down and started to rearrange the flowers to put them away. "You know you didn't have to tell me about them, not if you don't want to."

"You mean you don't want to hear about them because then you'll start to pity and maybe even care about me?" He fired back, pointing his fork at her accusingly. His smile was hollow and he had caught on to what she was doing.

Her jaws tightened and she finally nodded. He was right and there was no point lying. The more she lied, the more lies she'd have to cover up those lies. It was somehow easier to lie to Scarus and the President and even her own family than Finnick.

"Got you."

"Don't look so smug. I didn't exactly hide it."

"But you did and now you're acting like you meant for me to figure you out," He took his empty plates to the sink and started to wash them. "Let me tell you, it took me a while to figure you out."

She chuckled, funny how he had him almost figured out within moments of knowing him. She could've had him completely figured out if she let herself get tied up with him but she didn't until that moment. "You know I already had you mostly figured out by our second to third meeting."

"I know."

"You did?"

He nodded, putting away the plate on the drying rack. "I let you figure me out." And she stopped thinking.

The words hung in the air and she didn't know how to respond to him. He let her figure him out. Why would he do that? She had a very dangerous position, working directly under the President. One word from her, he could be in danger.

Of course, he didn't know that or maybe he did.

"Aren't you going to ask me why?" Finnick carried on, walking towards her. She took a few steps back. "Ask me why?"

"Why? Why'd you do that?" Her accent suddenly changed, much to Finnick's surprise. It was slightly different and she sounded more…sweeter and quieter.

"Because I saw how much you liked playing games."

The only people who should know that much about her was Huxley and maybe Scarus. The latter hated his guts while the former was wary of him so how did he know? Or was he watching her when she didn't even notice.

"How would you know that?"

Finnick was more challenging than she had expected. She didn't completely hate the idea. He really was more than just a pretty face. A pleasant surprise for her, though she'd not tell him what she was really thinking.

"People talk." Was all he offered and then he had already changed his attention to the television where Zephyr was running from Sulla of One. "Shouldn't you be at the Observation Rooms instead?"

Sera clicked her tongue, the sudden change of topic wasn't what she expected. For once, she wasn't in control of a conversation and she didn't like it one bit. She had no choice but to play along. "Because of my condition I get days off."

"We all get days off but that doesn't mean we can skip going to the Observation Rooms when we're mentors."

"Like I said, my condition is special."

"Must be very special." He crossed into her space, his fingers caressing the smooth wooden florist bench before he was right in front of her, close enough to touch. He backed off a little, noticing the shears in her hand.

"...It is." All of a sudden it was hard for her to breathe. "I–uh—I'm working, visiting hospitals and clinics on top of being a guest speaker on Caesar's show—all with my condition. It's hard."

"I can imagine." He didn't believe her. How hard were her hospital and orphanage visits? He was sure they were the easiest thing in the world and certainly her tasks were simpler and less rigorous than his.

The stench of wet iron filled the room and Sera's eyes widened. As Finnick was about to turn away from her, she grabbed his arm. "You need to change your bandages." She motioned towards his room and had already turned away from him, busy putting her things away.

Finnick looked down, pulling up his shirt, his back to her. Like she had pointed out, his bandages were soaked with blood. "I didn't do them properly, that's why." He finished speaking, looking at her, silently asking for her help.

"I did say you could ask for help if you needed it."

"I didn't want to bother you."

She wanted to turn him down but the other option was to let him bleed to death. Clearly letting Capitol favorite Finnick Odair bleed to death inside her apartment was the worst option, even the 'Flower of Panem' wouldn't be able to survive the aftermath of that option. So she only had no choice but to tend to his wounds.

"Take a seat in the Living Room and try not to bleed everywhere." She threw down the rag she was using to clean the bench, putting it away before washing her hands and going into the guest room—Finnick's temporary room to grab the first aid box.

When she came back out, Finnick was sitting in front of the fireplace on the woven straw rug. She was thankful he did, it would be easier for the blood to be cleaned on the rug than the couch.

Seeing her, he reluctantly took off his shirt, already knowing what her reaction would be. At first, she wasn't paying attention to his wounds, busy preparing everything she'd need but when she did see it, she let out a gasp of horror.

Her grip on the glass bottle of antiseptic loosened and it fell down to the floor, almost shattering but Finnick quickly caught it. He calmly passed it to her but Sera was anything but calm. With trembling hands, she took the bottle from him and carefully placed it down.

For the first time ever, the calm, kind and apathetic mask of Seraphine Reza cracked and she couldn't hide her thoughts. She was horrified seeing Finnick's injuries. Never in her imagination did she ever think of something like this, something out of the games.

She traced the air where his wounds were but not touching them in fear of hurting him. Some were old and scarred, they could've been barely a year or so old.

At first, she considered them being from his games but then the thought occurred to her; stylists and medics make sure victors never have as such as a single scratch post-games. Then this, what was in front of her made no sense at all.

How did he get so many wounds and scars?

Long marks were chaotically crossed around his back, some had long healed and formed scars with raised skin while others were newly formed. Those must've been the ones he gained the day before—the blood around the scars were drying and forming scabs but it was clearly not cleaned well and there was a chance of infection.

"It's not that bad—I can hardly feel anything." He didn't believe what he was saying and was holding back a few groans and grunts of pain.

Sera glared at him and he gave her a sad smile. She dipped a few cotton balls in the antiseptic solution before sucking in a breath, calming herself, thinking she was back in her aunt's shop. This was just another customer she didn't know, yes, that was it.

Carefully, she cleaned his wounds, ignoring the quiet hisses of pain and the sudden motions he made. "I thought you said you didn't feel anything." She dryly said, looking blankly at Finnick's back.

"Clearly, I lied." He chuckled and she stopped her treatment. "Why'd you stop?"

"You're moving around too much and did you even treat these wounds!" Her anger was misplaced, she knew but his carefree attitude infuriated her. If he was in pain, he should be more honest.

'You wouldn't be honest either in his place.'

The annoying voice in her head was back and she hated it, only adding to her anger. She started pushing the cotton ball into his wounds and angrily finished cleaning them.

"Ow. Ow. OW! That hurts. Slow down."

"Oh so now it hurts?" She asked, tilting her head to the side as Finnick turned his head around to face her. He made a face and looked away, annoyed at being caught in his lie. "You know if you're hurt, you should say you are."

"We both know that I don't have that luxury."

"Well–you—I—ugh. Do something about this at least." She grabbed a few bandages and cut them to the appropriate size before stopping to examine them. There was a small possibility he'd need stitches.

Her anger was only rising seeing his wounds. She didn't even care how he got them or who gave them but her focus was on his attitude, maybe it was the sudden replay of her games that made her more temperamental than her usual self or maybe it was Finnick, himself. She didn't know. She was just angry.

Taking advantage of her lower guard, Finnick carefully asked. "What was in that vial?"

"Wha-what vial?" Her face darkened when she realized what he meant. He saw her last night with the vial of poison. "Fragrance and preservative mix for the bouquets." She lied.

"Really?" He didn't believe her. The way she quickly hid the vial was on his mind. "Is that why you hurried to put it away?"

"It wasn't needed."

He didn't say anything else.

"I might need to stitch some of your wounds." Sera picked up a thread and needle fromm the box and threaded the needle.

"You know how to stitch a wound."

"Yes? Is that surprising?"

"A little. I thought you didn't know medicine."

"I know the basics."

"You know anything about poison—ow!"

The needle pierced his skin and she quickly removed it after remembering to numb the area. "My hand slipped." She excused, she really did forget to numb some of the wounds.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?"

"Yes, now be quiet." She slid down to the floor and sat up straight, carefully stitching up each of his wounds.

Her hands moved quickly in silence, occasionally she'd pause to check the game on the television screen. Zephyr was still alive. She'd go back to her task, when she was done, she bandaged the remaining wounds, muttering to herself. "...Looks like whip marks."

"That's because they are." Finnick confirmed with an amusing but pained smile on his face. He'd admit, he was a little taken aback by her accurate guess. Then again, it wouldn't take a genius to guess those marks especially if they were not from the Capitol.

"I didn't know Peacekeepers were allowed to put their hands on victors." The thought scared her if it was true.

"Oh they're not but that doesn't go for everyone." He turned to face her when she announced she was done tending his back. He faced her and slowly laid down to let her tend his chest wounds.

Sera scrunched up her face and steeled herself. "What does that mean?" She asked, cleaning the front wounds. She paused, realizing what she just did and she inwardly started cursing her insatiable curiosity for her actions.

She didn't want to get involved with whatever was going on with the rest of the victors yet here she was asking them questions for answers she shouldn't know. Huxley, the District 5 victos, her stylist team and even Emilia had gone to great lengths to keep her from all of this yet foolishly she let her curiosity to momentarily overpower her.

With a strange smile on his face, Finnick kept his gaze on Sera, watching as she was silently cursing herself. He knew she was being kept from all of this and even he tried to keep from what was going on but she was the one who asked. "You have a lot of people trying to protect you." He found himself remarking, reaching for her and she moved away her face.

A little annoyed, he changed the subject of their conversation again. "I don't know why." She acted as if nothing had happened and carried on. He took his hand back.

He made a sound before continuing. "You're sick. I don't know how sick but I can imagine knowing something so horrendous might cause you to relapse."

"I'm sick, yes but I'm not on my deathbed. I'm not made of glass or anything." She got up and went to the first aid box to grab more bandages. "And I was actually fine at my reaping. I relapsed in the games—as you can see, I'm fine but if you don't want to tell me. I'm okay with that. Someone else will but you should at least be a little honest with yourself."

"I am being honest."

"No. You're not." He had only been honest when he wanted to, which wasn't exactly fair considering she was the same but at least she wasn't the one who approached him. "You're not trying to protect me, Finnick, not like Huxley who's clearly not involved in this or Leora who's ashamed by this—whatever is going on. You're not trying to protect me."

"Then who am I trying to protect?"

She let out a small hopeless laugh, her gaze was distant. "Who else but yourself." She answered before carrying on. "It's obvious and you can lie to yourself but you can't lie to the person you're trying to 'protect'. It's fine if you are—just don't ask me about what I'm doing."

"I want to." He said. "I really do want to tell you…or anyone about this but—" He swallowed and it sounded like he was going to cry but she couldn't see his face with his back turned to her. "—I don't know how to."

"I guess we'll both keep our secrets. I'm okay with keeping mine to myself."

"Are you?" He didn't believe her. "Well let's just say I'm not as fortunate as you."

She scoffed and stood up abruptly. He was still half-untreated. "I'm not fortunate. I don't know what counts as fortunate but I am not."

"You're more fortunate than the rest of us." He pointed out, assuming she was just favored by the President.

"I'm not. Maybe I'm not being whipped in secret or whatever but I have my own…problems."

"I never said you didn't and I'm not being punished—I'm being put to work."

Now she was even more confused.

'Put to work?'

What did he mean?

She examined him carefully from head to toe. Her mind started to wander and suddenly she was back in District 5, at her aunt's shop, Leora had come in. Her eyes were also hazy like Finnick's. Then she was at her Victory Ball, Leora and Cashmere were both being moved like ragdolls and treated like one too.

The pieces started to shift around in her mind when it finally clicked. Those marks dotted around his neck and back, Leora had them too. "They're putting you to work—"

In a softer voice, he interjected. "They're selling us." He was tired of waiting for her to figure it out but only after he spoke he realized she did figure it out. He expected her to be disgusted, horrified or even afraid but when he slowly gazed up at her, she was lost in deep thought with a complicated look on her face. She was neither disgusted, horrified or afraid, no. He didn't know what she felt.

Exhaling, she nodded her head. Whatever she chose to say next would have to be carefully picked and she didn't think she had it in her to pick them well so she chose to stay silent. Instead, she tried to be as kind as she could be which wasn't really hard. She just pretended she was on one of her schedules at the hospital.

She paused and looked at the screen, ignoring Finnick's inquisitive gaze. Zephyr was on the run being chased by the girl from One and the boy from Two.

He led them through the endless desert before he came across a forest of sandy rocks but they weren't rocks. It took her a moment to recognize those rock-like things before Corin, the boy from One foolishly touched them when he jumped over it in an attempt to catch Zephyr.

The rocks started to vibrate before spikes appeared and the rocks began to move. Illia let out a shriek. Distracted, Corin slipped and fell onto the sand. He tried to get up but didn't notice the bear-like creatures eye him hungrily.

Stone boars, it was the name Zephyr picked before when he encountered them on day four of the game. She had almost forgotten about those things but Zephyr didn't. He led the two remaining tributes right where he wanted to.

A stone boar roared loudly, shaking the arena before it chased the boy from Two relentlessly. His ally didn't help. Zephyr was counting on it. He took the opportunity to fish out a blade and carefully aimed it at the girl from One who was distracted momentarily. He aimed and he let the blade fly through the air before it landed straight in the back of the girl.

She let out a groan of pain and fell to her knees. Her cries and the sudden scent of blood drove those boars wild as they charged towards her. She cried out and tried to take out a weapon but—

"You're not saying anything?" Finnick could see her focus had shifted and she was staring intently at the television screen, analyzing each scene very carefully. He half-expected her to pity him like the other victors or give him a shallow answer.

She didn't know what to say and thought he wouldn't like anything she would end up saying. "There's nothing to say." She spoke without thinking and immediately she felt bad—her response was too cold. "I mean I don't think you want pity or anything else but to be heard. It sounds a little insincere but that's what I think."

"You're not afraid or disgusted."

She couldn't lie and say she wasn't. It made sense why everyone around her was being so strange about those damned white roses and the sudden attention she started to get.

District 5 was not a popular district after all. Five only had a few famed victors, the rest like Huxley, Wells, Estelle and Uriel were ignored and forgotten by most—though Estelle was actually despised by the Capitolites. Only Leora and Porter out of the District 5 victors currently living were known and now she was among them.

She was afraid.

Very afraid.

She only felt the tremors when Finnick put his hand above hers and only then did she realize how afraid she was. It could be her. It could easily have been her being in Finnick's place if she didn't scheme to poison her allies in the game, if she didn't wear a mask of false kindness to sway the hearts of Panem. But she did and she was spared but was she really?

"I shouldn't have told you."

"N-no." Her voice came out strangled. Her breathing became erratic and her chest ached a little, she reached into the first aid box and took out a bottle of painkillers, giving one to Finnick and taking one herself. The pain subsided but it was still there. "...Someone…would've eventually told me or I'd find out on my own."

Maybe what she had going on was more fortunate than the other victors.

"So it's us or you?" Eugene's distorted voice rang through her mind. He never said anything like the sort when he was alive and breathing and she knew it wasn't real. "Murderer." She flinched.

Finnick kept Sera in his sight even when she was done tending his wounds. Her eyes suddenly had a glazed look to them like she was in a trance. He wondered if he should try to get her attention as he looked around her apartment, noticing the empty shelves where the flower pots were dotted around.

The small potted flowers he noticed the day before on the shelves next to the kitchen were all gone. He remembered they were named. Some were names of tributes and her allies from her games but most were unfamiliar.

He tried to figure out the rest of the names, thinking they had their own meaning. One in particular had stood out to him.

Kai.

It felt familiar like he had heard about the particular name somewhere.

Kai.

Where had he heard it?

Kairos!

He remembered it now. He heard it on the news, Kairos Talcott, the young son of a Consul who was executed for treason. His young son had died only days before the execution and even then it was said he suddenly relapsed.

She must've felt guilty; after all he remembered seeing her visit Consul Talcott's son once or twice. He wouldn't be surprised if she blamed herself for their deaths. But why would she, unless…

"You're not fine, either, are you?" He questioned, trying to piece together the puzzles.

She was acting as an informant. His eyes widened when he finally put the pieces together, the pieces he had at least.

At the time, he didn't know if he pitied her or envied her. It made sense now. The constant warnings from the President to stay away from her and the sudden interest the Ministers, Consuls and Senators had in her. It all made sense.

"Believe what you want to but I am perfectly fine." She stated, being firm but she wasn't fine at all.

Unbeknown to him, she wasn't just an informant. She was killing innocents, it didn't matter if they were children or eldery people on their deathbeds. She took their lives after damning their family and friends.

"I'm fine." She repeated.

"Those potted plants—they had names, names of people—people who died. I recognized some of them, the tributes of the 68th games and Consul Talcott's son."

She stiffened at the mention of the little boy who was the first of the many young flames she was forced to snuff out the life off. "It was a…memento for them, for me to not forget them."

"No one does that."

"I do." She cut him off before her mask crumbled again.

But he didn't back down, he sat up and looked straight at her. "What was in the vial?" He asked again.

"Fragrance and preservative."

"Really?" She nodded. "Then can I see it?"

"No. No, you can't."

"It wasn't an accident. What happened in the arena—it wasn't an accident."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"So you didn't drive your own allies insane with a poisonous flower and then pretend to cure them." "If that wasn't enough the other tributes followed you thinking you knew what was actually edible."

She took a moment to answer him but all she could say was. "No."

"I don't believe that."

"Does it matter if I did."

"No, not really but if I'm going to be honest I want you to do the same."

Like a firecracker, she exploded, slapping his hands away from her. "Fine. I did it!" He was right and she hated it; it was unfair only he had to be honest while she pretended to be better than him. "I lied, I knew the snow cotton was poisonous and I lied to everyone and told them it was fine. I didn't care until Jenny was dying to fix things. Is that what you wanted to hear? I wasn't completely innocent and everything I've done has been meticulously planned from the start! I killed them! I killed everyone who was allied with me—who trusted me and…I regret it."

The lump in her throat which constricted her over a year was gone. Her chest no longer felt as heavy as it did before, despite one of her biggest secrets being out in the open. The specters of Eugene, Gaius and Jenny looked at her sadly but when she blinked she was alone again with Finnick.

Swallowing her tears, she looked down at Finnick who was still sitting on the floor. "Aren't you gonna say something? Maybe you're disappointed I'm not the person you thought I was."

"No," He took her hand in his and looked her straight in the eye. "We're the same—the vial," Again, he was fixated on the damned vial. "It's poison isn't it?" Her eyes widened and her lips trembled. "So, I'm right."

"I did tell you I wasn't as fortunate but I guess I am a little fortunate."

"Kairos and those people…did you?"

"I didn't have a choice."

"No, we don't. Sera—"

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

The abrupt interruption froze the two. Sera stood up and took her hand back before glancing at Finnick. "Hide." She mouthed before hurrying to clean the bloodied bandages from the living room. He tried to help her, only to be pushed to the side–he had no choice but to leave.

Sounds of the knocks became louder and more frequent. It wasn't as late as she thought it was but it was nearly bedtime for most. She had a guess who was on the other side of the door. She scrambled to clear all the bloody bandages, still the person on the other side might smell the blood.

The urgency of the situation made her do something she knew she'd regret the next day. With her florist shear in one hand, she sucked in a deep breath and slashed her other hand. Suppressing a cry of pain, she ran to put a bandage on her wound before answering the door.

Flower Dictionary

White Lilac - Youthful Innocence

Purple Lilac - First Feelings of Love

Iris - Trust

Ivy - Affection and Friendship

Lunaria (Also known as Moonwort/Honesty) - Honesty

White Chrysanthemum - Truth