𝙏𝙄𝙇𝙇 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙀𝙉𝘿 - 𝑯𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝑮𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔

One

Sidney took in a sharp breath as she sat down on the comfortable sofa in the parlor. Finnick joined her and sat down next to her, grabbing her hand and squeezing it in his. Whatever they needed to discuss, it was important.

Haymitch Abernathy stood in front of the friends, rubbing his tired face as he looked at them. Sidney and Finnick had met Haymitch and become sort of allies to him as many victors did. Victors were automatically friends as they all had the same hatred for the Games that destroyed their minds and souls.

Haymitch was partially sober. Sober enough to talk in all seriousness. Although Sidney knew the moment he left he was going to take out a whiskey bottle and down it until the pain left him.

Sidney didn't blame the man for drowning his sorrows in alcohol. She had considered the same thing, but knew it would only hurt her mind even more in the end.

"Well aren't you two just the cutest couple," Haymitch spoke with a chuckle, the drunk side of him slurring his words together.

"Ew." Sidney murmured, Finnick shot her a small look, she blinked over and realized what she said. "Oh, no offense, it's just . . ."

"What do you need, Haymitch?" Finnick asked before she could finish. "It's not like you came to District Four for fun."

"Have any loyalists been here lately?" Haymitch asked, his voice low and his eyes serious.

Although Sidney and Finnick had recently made a trip to the Capitol, but they did not spend the trip together. Instead the spent it with their so called 'Capitol lovers.' Or that's what the public called them because they didn't know that the two victors were forced to sell themselves.

Sidney had been able to keep it from Finnick for two years until the 70th Hunger Games began. They had gone to the Captiol and Finnick noticed her sneaking away every once in a while and he realized what was going on because he is going through the same thing.

Sidney broke down almost immediately, telling Finnick how much it had killed her to continue doing it. She also told him about how President Snow threatened all of their lives. Finnick simply held her and swore that he would get her out of it, even if that meant death.

"No," Sidney answered. "Just us District Four people."

"Good," Haymitch sat down on the sofa across from Finnick and Sidney. "We are planning something."

"Who's we?" Finnick asked.

"A man named Plutarch, some of the other victors, and a few spies in the Capitol." Haymitch spoke.

"What are you saying?" Sidney asked him.

Haymitch's eyes gleamed. "A plan for revolution."

"And you've planned a revolution all by yourself?" Finnick asked him, an eyebrow raised.

"I'm just the recruiter of the victors." Haymitch shook his head as he leaned back in his chair.

"And what exactly do you want from us?" Sidney asked him.

"I want you to join." Haymitch spoke. Sidney's breathing hitched in her throat as she though about what a revolution could bring. Blood. Death. Destruction. But it would also bring the end of the Capitol.

"Both of us?" Finnick asked, Haymitch nodded.

"Once these next Games are reaped, we will have to be the mentors," Haymitch began to explain the plan. "We will go to the Capitol with our tributes and get them out of the arena then go to District Thirteen. We just have to figure out how to destroy that force field."

"Let me tell you something, Haymitch. That is not a plan." Sidney spoke. "It's barely even a concept."

"Well, if it doesn't work, we leave the tributes." Haymitch told her.

"You would leave them to the Capitol's hands?" Sidney asked, suddenly angry.

"They will probably be dead by the time we run from the Capitol anyway." Haymitch's face went cold. "And keeping Katniss alive is the top priority. She is the face of this revolution."

Sidney pressed her lips in a thin line, trying to hide her annoyance. She understood Haymitch and was partly angry at herself because leaving the tributes was the smartest decision, but Sidney knew she couldn't do it. She would have to be dragged away.

"Even if the chance that this will work is that slim . . . I mean we owe it to everyone who's no longer here to try." Sidney told them.

Sidney had a problem with becoming attached to her tributes just to watch them die every year on camera. That was the hardest part about being a victor.

"And if Snow catches us . . . ?" Finnick waited for an answer. The easy answer was they would all be killed.

"If we do this, how do we know it's going to end any differently than it did the last revolution?" Sidney skeptically asked.

"If that is the case, then . . ." Haymitch let out a breath. "We die with the rebellion."

The time had come. The 75th Annual Hunger Games, aka the Quarter Quell. Annie and Finnick were sat on the couch, Finnick's arm lazily thrown over the couch besides her head, Mags sat besides them, smiling over at the two occasionally. Johanna had been sitting on another couch when Sidney plonked herself down next to her, causing Johanna to roll her eyes. They all waited for Snow to reveal the big 'Quarter Quell super special twist' this time.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the 75th year of The Hunger Games. And it was written in the charter of the games that every twenty-five years, there would be a Quarter Quell to keep fresh for each new generation the memory of those who died in the uprising against the Capitol. Each Quarter Quell is distinguished by Games of special significance.

"And now on this, the 75th anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third Quarter Quell as a reminder that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol. On this, the third Quarter Quell Games, the male and female Tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of Victors in each district. Victors shall present themselves on Reaping Day regardless of age, state of health or situation."

Annie started shaking, screaming 'no' over and over again as Finnick soothed her though a worried expression was worn on his face.

Johanna and Sidney exchanged sympathetic glances toward each other before Johanna left the house. Mags' eyes glossed over slightly but she remained completely calm as she helped to soothe Annie, who was still in her breakdown.

The sobbing and screaming was drowned out as Sidney tried to focus on the rhythmic beating that echoed through her head, before she knew it, her hand flew to her mouth when a sick feeling filled her body, she then ran to the bathroom.

Sidney and Finnick sat on the bathroom floor with their backs to the wall in a comfortable silence, her next to the toilet and him across the sink by the door.

"It's gonna be me." Sidney stated in a blank voice, empty of tone.

"You don't know that." He replied, but he knew what she meant.

"It can't be Annie, we know how much it hurt her the first time, she can't handle another. Mags deserves to live her last years in peace, or as close as she can get to that."

Sidney fumbled with the necklace in her hand. The chain was silver with S-like-shaped links. It was a thick silver band with a wave carved into it, overall very pretty. The chain came from Finnick but not the ring.

Sidney sniffled, wiping away the quickly pooling tears in her eyes. "The rebellion is gonna work, Finnick." She stated, attempting to stay confident for both of them.

Finnick nodded. "I know," he harshly swallowed. "Because I have no idea what I'll do if it doesn't."

No more words were exchanged for the rest of the night.

[A/N: I want to make one thing VERY clear if you didn't catch on yet, and that is that Finnick and Sidney are strictly platonic. She doesn't have any romantic feelings for him. He doesn't have any romantic feelings for her. This guy needs a best friend who isn't dead or Peeta, period.]