…

The Flood Games

Chapter Three

…..

The rest of the meal passed by awkwardly. The tense air in the room didn't quite dissipate, despite the efforts of the more tactful guests to steer the ship of conversation into clearer waters. Things had definitely gotten worse over the past year; that much was obvious just from looking at Finnick. But it was the elephant in the room, and no one was going to mention it. Not until after dinner, anyways.

Kai and Ari had taken clean up duty in the kitchen. Annie volunteered to help them, putting away the dishes after Kai dried them with a towel.

"Maybe if he'd just... oh, I don't know... talk to me about it," Ari huffed, scrubbing a plate until it sparkled.

Annie bit her lip, carefully arranging Mags's fine china back into the cabinet (it was the one day a year she was allowed to touch the stuff; she was far too clumsy to use the fancy dishes normally). She knew that Ari had been the mentor for Finnick's district partner, Marina. Although Finnick had never been quite as close to Ari as he was to Mags, they both clearly thought a lot of each other. Ari could be very protective, especially when Finnick or Attina were involved. Watching Finnick's slow decline was eating away at her, and Annie wasn't sure how much more of it the older girl could take.

"It's more than just Siren or the Games," Kai sighed, taking the plate from his wife. "I think we both know what's happening behind closed doors. He just... bottles it up, is all."

Annie tilted her head, taking the plate from Kai. "What do you mean?"

Kai and Ari exchanged a look. Clearly they had forgotten she was listening to Ari's ranting too.

"Don't worry about it, princess. Just keep doing what you're doing."

Annie frowned, staring at the plate pensively. She was used to this answer. Her family never seemed to think she could handle the truth. But she wasn't a little kid anymore, no matter how everyone still saw her. Something had to change, or they would see her as helpless forever. She wanted to help Finnick. Really. More than anything, aside from uncovering the truth of her mother's death. But no one would trust her with either task.

Once the dishes were put away, Annie excused herself to give the couple some space. She crept up the stairs, planning to go into the room she and Attina would stay in when they spent the night, until she realized the room was already occupied. The door was wide open, and Attina and Caspian were sitting side-by-side on the bed with their backs to the door. Watching the ocean from the window, perhaps. It was what Annie had planned to do. Caspian had his head on Attina's shoulder, and their hands were entwined. They were deep in their own conversation, in hushed voices that Annie knew she probably wasn't supposed to hear.

"I'm just so frustrated with him!" Attina sighed, nuzzling her cheek against the crown of Caspian's head. It was a sweet gesture, almost made hilarious by the contrast of her annoyed tone. "I mean, okay. It's one thing that he doesn't give a crap about us anymore. I can almost tolerate him ignoring Annie. Almost! But to not even go to Siren's freaking funeral? Gosh... I just... I know his aunt and uncle don't want him around his other cousins anymore. I get it. But I know good and well that he was still hanging out with her before she died. She was his ghostwriter for all those stupid poems, for Pike's sake!"

"Maybe he just needed space," Caspian whispered. "I saw him bring flowers to her grave. It's not like he doesn't care anymore."

Annie stared at the floorboards, trying not to think of Siren. The death of Finnick's cousin still stung. She had always been kind to Annie, and in a world where so many of her peers treated her as a misfit this kindness had meant the world. She hadn't been inside the academy during the typhoon, but she was caught up in the wave nonetheless. It took weeks to find her body, washed up on the shore of a small island and half-eaten by scavengers, identifiable only by a bracelet that Finnick had brought her from the Capitol. They said it was a miracle her remains were recovered at all. The casket stayed closed at the funeral. No one could stomach seeing her like that.

"It's bad enough watching Annie still fawn over him like those Capitol floozies. I should've raised her better than that."

"Technically, she was the first one to do any fawning. Before the Capitol, I mean. It's not like she's trying to copy them," reassured Caspian, ever the voice of reason.

"I mean, you're right. She's been head over heels for him since she was what, five? Six?"

"Think he's ever noticed?"

"Not likely. He's got his head so far up his-"

Annie slunk away from the door. She really didn't have to listen to this. Or want to, for that matter. She walked down the stairs quietly with a new destination in mind, and began the trek down the hallway towards the back door. She stopped to admire the photos on the wall. Mags with her late husband on their wedding day. A tiny version of her grandfather clinging to a teenage Mags. A picture of all eight surviving victors, taken just after Finnick's victory tour. But most importantly, pictures of her mother. Photos of her youth, photos after her victory, photos of her after she adopted Attina and later Annie. Even family photos that showed her late grandmother as well. She took comfort in these pictures. They were a window into the life of the woman who meant so much to her, even though she only occupied a few of her earliest and most precious memories.

Her favorite picture was one taken in the mentor room in the Capitol. Marissa was standing with a group of her closest friends, making goofy faces at the camera. She had her arms slung around the two victors on either side of her, Blight and Angus, and was winking and sticking her tongue out at the camera. Blight, directly on her left, had his head on her shoulder and was pretending to nap and snore. Ivy, on the other side of him, was giving Blight bunny ears and had her mouth wide open at an odd angle, pretending to be mid-scream (or maybe she was pretending that she was going to bite Blight's ear off- it wasn't entirely clear, but the latter idea certainly seemed in-character for her). Angus, on Marissa's other side, just smiled awkwardly as though he wasn't quite sure what to do with himself.

The four of them were very close. She could remember them coming to Marissa's funeral- one of the only things she could remember about the day. There was a clear memory of Blight and Ivy clinging to each other as they looked into the casket, Ivy barely containing her sobs. She remembered Angus holding her tightly as his silent tears dripped into her curls and looking at her and Attina as though they were the most precious things left in the world. Yes, despite being from District 7 and 10, they were Marissa's very best friends. Their love for each other crossed both district boundaries and the mortal coil. It was one of Annie's greatest regrets that she could not convince Mags to allow her to go with them to District 7 for Ivy's own funeral a few years prior. She wished she could've had the chance to say a proper goodbye to one of the people who cared for her mother so much.

She carried on, walking past Mags's room and catching a bit of her conversation with Finnick.

"-can't do it, Mags. I can't go back there again."

Her heart twisted in her chest at the sound of him crying. She may not have known what was wrong, but it hurt to watch nonetheless.

"Shh, it's all right. Just give it a few years and they'll grow tired of it. Something newer and shinier will come along and they'll forget all about you. Just lay off the alcohol next time. I won't have my tribute turning into Haymitch or Chaff."

Ah, so he was drunk. That explained why he was so out of it. Annie had never understood the appeal of drinking. She knew victors from outlying districts would drown their sorrows in the same way that the more industrial districts like 5 and 6 would take to other drugs, but she didn't really understand that either. Once a victor won the Games, they were safe forever, right? Didn't it make more sense to be clear headed, to enjoy their new found freedom and safety?

She kept moving. She couldn't bear to listen to Finnick cry anymore, and there was nothing she could do to make things better for him. He had talked to her less and less as the years went by, and it became clear enough to Annie that she cared about him far more than he did about her. She still wished there was a way to help, though. All she could really do at this point was try to be there if he ever needed her. Not that it would ever happen; she was kidding herself to think her presence had any effect on him anymore.

Annie finally made it to the back door, and exited onto the sandy beach. The warm July breeze tousled her hair, greeting her with a friendly hello. She deposited her dress sandals at the end of the back porch and slowly walked to the ocean, reveling in the feeling of the warm sand between her toes. The sun had long since set by now, the bright sunset replaced by a twinkling explosion of stars. Ari and Kai's dog, a feisty golden retriever named Skipper, was barking at a pelican through the fence in their yard, but his antics hardly bothered Annie. She sat down at the sea's edge next to the only other human on the beach - her mother's only surviving tribute, Ron.

"Hi Annie," he said calmly, smiling warmly in her direction.

"Hi Uncle Ron," she yawned, dipping her hand in the water. She splashed the water slightly, away from her companion of course.

"Too stuffy in there for you too?"

"Yeah. I'm mostly just... worried. About Finnick. But no one will tell me what's wrong."

It was a hint, and she was hoping Ron would take the bait. He'd always had a soft spot for her and her plight against Auntie Mags's and Grandpa Reef's over-protectiveness. He clearly noticed what she was doing, and unfortunately steered the conversation away.

"You know, I think that's one of the best things about you Annie."

"What is?" she asked, tilting her head. She knew her earlier line of questioning would go unanswered, but now she was curious.

"Your heart. The way you're always so worried about everybody else. I think it's amazing how both of you girls are so much like your mother, even though you got to spend so little time with her. Attina got her spirit, and you got her heart."

Annie smiled slightly. Yeah, okay, so he was flattering at this point. Any comparison to Marissa was enough to win her over. She supposed she would drop the Finnick thing for now.

"I don't know about that," she said shyly. She thought to earlier that evening. The thoughts she'd had about Seille. All of the eavesdropping and sneaking around. Even the plan she had been slowly putting into motion over the past several years. These days she just felt sneaky, not kind. "I don't think I'm that great. Nobody really wanted me at first, remember?"

For all the stories the older citizens of District 4 would tell of Annie being a lost mermaid or a selkie pup with a misplaced seal skin, or even a young changeling who was forgotten before she could be swapped for a human infant, the fact of the matter remained that they were just that. Stories. The truth of the matter was that Annie was a human girl with real, human parents out there somewhere who hadn't cared enough to raise her themselves and left her at the mercy of the sea. It was because of luck that she was ever found by anyone at all. It was Marissa's kindness that had kept her alive throughout her infancy and toddler-hood, and the kindness of her family in turn that kept her alive for all these years even after Marissa's passing. If Annie was kind at all, it was because she had spent her life exploiting the kindness of her extensive adopted family and just maybe she had begun to mimic them like a cuckoo chick in a bird's nest to solidify her place in the family.

Ron placed a hand on her shoulder. "Annie... Annie. We love you, okay? And we're really proud of the young lady you've become. Don't let anything Seille or those other girls say convince you otherwise. Because they're wrong, and I will come after them with a trident. Okay?"

Annie smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Okay."