The Sterling Nightingale ⟷ Finnick Odair/OC

So deeply

A/N: This chapter is not my favorite...the fog scene is a little much, but when I wrote this story I never ended up making any significant changes and it's been way too long for me to feel inspired to do that now.  

Chapter Twenty Six | So deeply

"Instinctively, with sudden, overmastering passion at the sight of her helplessness and of her grief, he stretched out his arms, and the next would have seized her and held her to him, protected from every evil with his very life, his very heart's blood." Emma Orczy, The Scarlet Pimpernel

Sleep just doesn't come that night. Sil finally falls into a restless slumber, her head fit snugly against Finnick's outstretched arm. He holds her tight against him. It is a comforting tightness that makes her feel safe, as if she is not in the arena at all. She falls asleep to the sound of his breathing, and wakes up after what feels like mere minutes upon drifting off.

"GET UP!" Katniss shouts into the night, practically screeching as she hastens over to Peeta's side and rattles him awake. They all shoot up in alarm, only to find a wall of fog inching its way toward them through the jungle canopy.

"The fog is poisonous!" Katniss yells as she grabs her bow and slings it over her shoulders.

Finnick is up within seconds, dragging Sil roughly to a standing position before helping Mags to her feet. Sil nearly topples over at his manhandling, but she doesn't complain. Her mind twists, eyes calculating the distance between the fog and them. She notices that the fog lingers near to the ground, not drifting up very far into the treetops. That is about all she notices before Finnick is shoving her forward, urging her to follow Katniss as the Girl on Fire leads them to safety.

Safety. It is a relative term in the Hunger Games.

They barrel through the jungle like they're on fire. The fog shrivels up plants in its wake, its poisonous fumes drifting like wildfire into the undergrowth. It might just be the danger that rattles through Sil as she runs, but it seems almost as if the fog is spinning faster as they try to put distance between them and the deathtrap. It wouldn't be such an odd thing, really – everything is fabricated in the arena.

Mags falls behind. So does Peeta. His injured body is still mending, and he is slow and cumbersome. Katniss helps him move forward, and Finnicks makes Mags get on his back so that he can carry her. But in the end, a death must be paid.

Peeta falls, tripping over a jutting root and landing flat on his face. Katniss throws herself down beside him and urges him to get up, but it is apparent that they are not going to make it at the pace they are going. The fog is nearly at their ankles, biting at the skin, weakening their legs. Sil feels it. She turns her eyes back to Finnick, worried that he is too far behind, only to see that Mags has climbed from his back and is standing on the forest floor.

Finnick is arguing with her. She's never heard his voice so panicked – usually he is so calm and collected. She watches with baited breath as Mags pats him on the cheek, smiles happily, and waves her hands around in her usual manner of communication. Whatever she says causes Finnick to dart his eyes over to Sil's before turning back to Mags.

Then the old woman throws her arms out and runs into the fog fearlessly.

Finnick's face contorts with pain before blazing with determination. He turns, grasps Peeta's waist, and throws the younger boy over his shoulder with a heave of strength. All of this happens so quickly that Sil is left reeling, and they start running again before she has caught up with her spinning thoughts.

A canon blasts behind them.

Sil feels tears lash at her eyes. Her legs ache. The poison leeches into her skin and every step is more painful than the last. This time, it is her that falls behind, but none of the others seem to notice. She is used to being overlooked, but she finds it harder and harder to push forward as the fog beings to climb up around her.