Sunshine | Finnick Odair

| part 2 |

I crawl out of my tent and position myself on a camp stool near the heater to take my watch with Katniss.

Boggs told Peeta to sleep out in full view where the rest of us could keep an eye on him. He isn't sleeping, though. Instead, he sits with his bag pulled up to his chest, clumsily trying to make knots in a short length of rope. Me and Finnick have been showing him different ways to cope and it seems as though rope helps the best. Maybe I should just get everyone short pieces of rope.

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After about an hour, Peeta speaks up. "These last couple of years must have been exhausting for you. Trying to decide whether to kill me or not. Back and forth. Back and forth."

I give Katniss a look telling her to be careful of what her next words are.

"I never wanted to kill you. Except when I thought you were helping the Careers kill me. After that, I always thought of you as...an ally."

"Ally." Peeta says the word slowly, tasting it. "Friend. Lover. Victor. Enemy. Fiancée. Target. Mutt. Neighbor. Hunter. Tribute. Ally. I'll add it to the list of words I use to try to figure you out." He weaves the rope in and out of his fingers. "The problem is, I can't tell what's real anymore, and what's made up"

I hear the voice of my husband rises from a bundle in the shadows. "Then you should ask, Peeta. That's what Aurora does."

"Ask who?" Peeta says. "Who can I trust?"

"Well, us for starters. We're your squad," says Jackson.

It seems as though no one around here sleeps.

"You're my guards" he points out.

"That, too," she says. "But you saved a lot of lives in Thirteen. It's not the kind of thing we forget."

"Your favorite color...is green?" He asks Katniss

"That's right." she agrees. "And yours is orange."

"Orange?" He seems unconvinced.

"Not bright orange. But soft. Like the sunset," she says to the confused boh. "At least, that's what you told me once."

"Oh." He closes his eyes briefly, maybe trying to conjure up that sunset, then nods his head. "Thank you."

More words seem to tumble out of Katniss's mouth in the moment. "You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces. You were right I can't do this" she says getting up going back to her tent before she could cry.

I think she's finally realised that Peeta just needs time. At least that's what I'm hoping she's realised. Out of all of us she knows him best but she doesn't really help when she's lashing out at him for things out of his control. I get it, he tried to kill her. But if Finnick tried to kill me after being tortured by the Capitol I would never leave his side. I'd be with him through out, even if it was watching from a distance.

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While Katniss, Finnick and Gale are off shooting, Me and Peeta are sitting together playing a game I've called 'Real or Not Real' to help Peeta. He mentions something he thinks happened, and we tell him if it's true or imagined, usually followed by a brief explanation. It doesn't help that no one really knows him well other than me and Katniss. Even then I don't know much.

"Most of the people from Twelve were killed in the fire."

"Real. Less than nine hundred of you made it to Thirteen alive." I explain to him.

"The fire was my fault."

"Not real. President Snow destroyed Twelve the way he did Thirteen, to send a message to the rebels."

Jackson has made the shifts for Peeta with at least one person he knows. She decided Finnick, Katniss, Gale and I were best suited. I for one don't think he should be left alone with Gale. Peeta spends most of his time with me, mainly because I refuse to leave his side I've even started sleeping outside closer to him, with of course Finnick refusing to leave my side. Both of us just want the best for Peeta, I can't say the same for Gale. Gale fills him in on a lot of stuff about 12, which I was shocked he was willing to help. Me and Finnick are experts on both of Peeta's Games, as we were mentors in the first and tributes in the second. But since Peeta's greatest confusion centers around Katniss we aren't much help.

The next afternoon, we're notified that the whole squad is needed to stage a fairly complicated propo. Peeta's been right about one thing: Coin and Plutarch are unhappy with the quality of footage they're getting from the Star Squad. Very dull. Very uninspiring. The obvious response is that they never let us do anything but playact with our guns. So today, a special block has been set aside for filming. It even has a couple of active pods on it.

One unleashes a spray of gunfire. The other nets the invader and traps them. But it's still an unimportant residential block with nothing of strategic consequence. The television crew means to provide a sense of heightened jeopardy by releasing smoke bombs and adding gunfire sound effects. We suit up in heavy protective gear, even the crew, as if we're heading into the heart of battle. Those of us with specialty weapons are allowed to take them along with our guns. Boggs gives Peeta back his gun, too, although he makes sure to tell him in a loud voice that it's only loaded with blanks.

Peeta just shrugs. "I'm not much of a shot anyway." He seems preoccupied with watching Pollux, to the point where it's getting a little worrisome, when he finally puzzles it out and begins to speak with agitation. "You're an Avox, aren't you? I can tell by the way you swallow. There were two Avoxes with me in prison. Darius and Lavinia, but the guards mostly called them the redheads. They'd been our servants in the Training Center, so they arrested them, too. I watched them being tortured to death. She was lucky, they used too much voltage and her heart stopped. It took days to finish him off, beating and cutting off parts. They kept asking him questions, but he couldn't speak, he just made these horrible animal sounds. They didn't want information, you know? They wanted me to see it."

Peeta looks around at our stunned faces, as if waiting for a reply. I remember them. I remember hearing animal like screams as they were being toutured. When none is forthcoming, he asks, "Real or not real?" The lack of response upsets him more. "Real or not real?!" he demands.

"Real" I say with tears rolling down my face as I remember all the pain the Capitol caused.

Peeta sags. "I thought so. There was nothing...shiny about it."

"Are you okay?" Finnick asks me.

"Yeah, I'm fine" I say getting up and walking away to be somewhere private but not too far. I don't want my head being chopped off by a pod or to be eaten by mutts.

All of this is becoming too much. All the memories. My whole life is just filled with pain. My mothers death. My fathers abuse. I've never been able to be fully happy. Even with Finnick we had to mentor kids to the death yearly. I had to have unwanted sex with rich old men to keep the Capitol 'entertained'. I was a child. No child should see or conflict death. No child year old should be forced into prostitution for others enjoyment. I don't deserve any of this. What 12 year old deserves to see their best friend die in their arms because they killed them?
I don't know what I've done to deserve all this pain. Pain, no one should ever have to endure.

1343 words