Drowning - Oc x Finnick Odair

Woke up with a Strange Tattoo

Ellie woke up to a bright light in her face and the beeping of a machine, coinciding with her heartrate. She looked down at her finger and saw a pulse measurer. She ripped it off, causing the machine to flatline. There was a number on her wrist, 71. She tried to wipe it off, but it stayed on. From the second she looked up from her hand, she knew where she was.

White surrounded her everywhere. The bed was white. The floor was white. The walls were white.

The door to her room burst open with doctors, one pushing a crash cart with him. They all stopped when they saw the girl up and walking, very not dead.

"Who did you take?" She asked, surprising herself. Her voice was not weak or unsteady. She was determined to know who was taken with her. She held her breath, hoping it was just her and Enobaria, but knew that was unlikely.

Someone screamed in the hall, and Ellie identified the voice instantly. She pushed through the stunned doctors and ran after the voice, "Johanna!" 

Johanna kicked the people in white coats carrying her, pushing around enough to see Ellie, "Ellie!" She called back. Ellie mouthed Finnick's name, asking if he was here. Johanna let out a little smile and shook her head, letting Ellie relax a bit. He was safe. 

Ellie tried to run after her more, but her arms and legs were grabbed by someone, her body being drug down the hall and back into her room.

She was strapped down onto her bed, her hands and ankles restrained. She pushed with her hips, arching her back and moving about, but this just made them strap down her middle, too. 

"Go get him." One of the doctors told a guard who stood outside her door. She could only imagine who "him" was, but she had a hunch.

The doctor poked at her more, rewrapping and dressing wounds on her arms and head. She wondered why they even bothered to help her. She assumed they were angry about the whole rebel thing, so why not just kill her? That she was not sure.

Not luckily, her hunch was correct. 

When he walked into the room, it was flooded with the scent of poison and dying roses. It almost smelt like one of those really fancy perfumes your grandmother would buy but was really horrendous smelling. 

Snow raised one of his hands, dismissing the doctor, telling her to shut the door behind her. Snow pulled a chair up next to Ellie's bed, and sat down.

"How are you feeling?" He asked her, acting civilized.

Ellie spoke in monotone, "Great."

He cleared his throat and asked her another question, "Do you know what happened?"

"Yes." Ellie droned, "You kidnapped me."

"Ah, Miss Elowyn," He tutted, "it's not kidnapping if the person is rightfully yours."

Ellie frowned at his statement. You can't own a person, even if he thought he did, no one owned Ellie. 

"I assume you knew of the rebel plan, then?" He asked her, disapproval lacing his voice, "I was quite ashamed to see you involved. You were one of my favorites."

"Let me ask you something, Snow," Ellie raised her voice slightly, words dripping like poison, "If you put yourself in the games, how long would you last?"

He looked confused by her statement.

"The districts may not be unified in everything," She spat, "but if you were in there, you'd be the first to die. And that's a guarantee." 

He looked at her, "Hatred is a powerful emotion, Elowyn. We mustn't act on it."

"Maybe," She agreed, "but the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Each time you put people in that arena, you gained hundreds of enemies, even some at the Capitol. Time is running out, who's on your side? I know who's on mine."