FAILURE TO COMPLY ┃ f. odair

2.13 a tortured soul is not a broken soul

District Four Victor's Village was a carbon copy of the one in Five. For whatever reason, Calypso had expected them to look at least a little different, but each was as indifferent as the last, just simple houses for the Capitol cattle they housed. It was a good house, though, with a plain interior untouched by her influence. She found comfort in the blandness of it.

As the first night drew in, she didn't bother to make her presence in the village known. Across the way, Mags Flanagan had seen her through her kitchen and given a wave which Calypso responded to with a smile before disappearing into the house. It was almost certain that the old woman would let the other victors know come morning, and that meant Finnick would know. She wasn't sure if she wanted him to see her in this state.

Into the very early hours of the morning, she kept herself busy with reorganising the house to her liking, setting it up in her mother and father's typical fashion rather than her own, as it had been in her childhood. Hours were spent on the monotonous task, but it was better than sleeping. It felt far too stuffy and warm indoors, and as such she'd opened every window and stripped herself down to the barest layer of comfortable clothing in shorts and a tank top. Many of the bruises on her body were still very visible, somewhere between their dark purple and yellow phase.

A scream echoed through the cold night air and into Calypso's new bedroom through the open window. It was close, next door perhaps. Despite every bone in her body fighting the urge to do so, she slipped on some shoes and went outside to investigate. Once again, Mags was there outside her own house opposite, a cosy robe wrapped tightly around her frail body as she headed down the steps of her porch. Her eyes met Calypso's, and she pointed towards the house next door. Another whimpering scream came.

"Who?" the younger woman asked simply. Mags made to walk towards the house, but Calypso stopped her with a gesture. "I'll go."

It felt invasive to simply walk into someone else's house, but with Mags' nod of approval, she stepped inside and headed up the stairs to the source of the sound. Annie Cresta was flailing wildly on her bed, arms moving in circles as if trying to swim in the air. It made sense what her nightmare was. Calypso remembered watching the games where the redhead woman was forced to swim for her life in a flash flood. She was good at it, and it allowed her to win, but that didn't make it any less traumatic.

"Annie?" she called out. One word at a time, Dr Melville had told her in their first session. The best way to speak was to fragment her sentences. A single word was better than none. "Hey."

Annie jolted awake at even the softest voice. She must've been used to being woken by her mute neighbour, or perhaps Finnick's calm tone that Calypso was more than used to. With a gentle but panicked exhale of air, she didn't even hesitate to lean herself forward and fall into Calypso's chest, who in turn had no idea what to do but hug her.

"I'm sorry," she cried, not even bothering to question why the District Five woman was doing in Four. "It's the same nightmare every time. It never stops. Either that one or... or..."

Calypso wasn't sure how to respond at first, leaning her cheek atop the other woman's soft head of hair while rubbing her warm flesh hand up and down her arm. While she couldn't remember every detail of Annie's games, she had no doubt they'd been horrible, enough to bring her such torment.

"It's ok," she whispered. It was difficult to focus on the present solemn problem than the fact that she was getting more words out by comforting someone than she had for herself in several days. "You're safe."

Annie released herself from the tight grip, pulling back just enough to regard Calypso in the low light. It didn't matter if they didn't know each other, because simply by looking at each other, they could connect on a level like no other. Very carefully, she ran her pale hands over the bruises across Calypso's arms.