The Sterling Nightingale ⟷ Finnick Odair/OC

That you hold so dear

Chapter Sixty Four | That you hold so dear

"She need not complain now that he was cold and impassive; his very voice shook with an intensity of passion, which he was making superhuman efforts to keep in check." Emma Orczy, The Scarlet Pimpernel

Sil wakes up in her bedroom. It is a far cry different than the place she's been kept in for God knows how long. At first, she jolts up and pushes herself into the headboard of the bed, shivering as she wonders how she got there. The opulent furnishings do little to calm her down, despite their familiarity. The birds the swoop along the ceiling seem to sneer at her.

Her head feels clearer. She stares at the painted birds for a long moment. Memories pour into her mind. They are nightmarish and dreadful, but she clings onto them as if she is afraid that forgetting them will make her forget reality. Reality – that is precisely what she needs.

In the light of day, without the drugs festering in her system, she remembers slivers of what happened to her. She remembers Felix.

She tries to grip the bedsheets tightly, forgetting for a moment that her hands are broken. The action makes her cry out, voice cascading into a shuddering sob that seems to ricochet through the entire room. It certainly catches the attention of the people outside of it.

At once, the door is thrown open and a startled nurse rushes in. On the nurse's heels is another, but Sil doesn't even notice them. She's staring at her hands, which have been wrapped and splintered – but she barely sees the bandages. All she sees are broken fingers.

Tears well up in her eyes. Her hands – they're ruined. Her body is ruined. Her spirit is ruined. She closes her eyes tightly and lays back down, burying her face into the pillow as she stares blankly at the opposite wall. Why is she still here? Is death not good enough for her? Is she not allowed to surrender to its darkness?

Across the room, Finnick stares at her. Sometime after his initial run in with Sil, Gale had gone to him. He informed him briefly about Sil's state and listed several of her injuries. Finnick had a feeling that Gale was holding back on him, but to be honest, it doesn't take a genius to read between the lines. He's experienced enough in those hotel rooms to hear the words that Gale leaves out.

The nurse, seeing that Sil has not opened any wounds, silently takes her leave. She doesn't force Finnick out of the room, so he stays where he is. To be honest, he's not sure if he could walk away even if he wanted to. His legs feel shaky. He feels like he could sink to the ground at any moment.

Instead, he walks to the bed, and carefully places himself into Sil's line of sight.

She slowly turns to him and stares. Her blank eyes are unnerving, so Finnick clears his throat and gestures to the side of the bed. "Mind if I sit?" he asks. She doesn't respond, so he does.

It's only when he reaches for a wet rag and goes to wipe some of the sweat from her brow that Sil cringes back with a whimper and demands, "Don't touch me."

The adamancy of her words startles him, and he immediately jerks back from her as if she is a wild animal. Seemingly intent on ignoring him, Sil turns her head away and stiffly pretends that he is not there. Finnick is not the type to let people ignore him, though.

Trying to remove his surprise from his expression, he drops the rag back into the bowl and whispers, "Sil...please. Tell me what happened."

She is silent for a long time. The only sound is her breathing and the ticking of the clock on the other side of the room. Finnick stares at her, so worried that he can barely draw breath, until she hoarsely murmurs, "He wanted me to scream."