𝐎𝐮𝐭𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 || 𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎'𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐱 𝐎𝐅𝐂

(xii). i lost my heart, i lost my mind without you

It had been weeks since Malia fell, no one knew what happened to her after the hovercraft left her behind. Jake had said that it wasn't possible for someone to survive a fall like that– Jade surely didn't.

For Finnick, it was a nightmare. He barely left his room. He wanted to believe that she survived, he wanted to believe that he didn't watch her die before his very eyes, but every day that Malia stayed missing, he slowly began to lose hope that he'd ever see her again. So he began to mourn.

He was almost unrecognizable.

Finnick was letting himself go.

He began to neglect his health, he refused to eat, he couldn't sleep, and he was killing himself.

Guilt was heavy on his shoulders after losing Malia in that arena, even though people around him assured him that her falling wasn't his fault– that there was nothing he could've done. But Finnick thought that if he had been the one to deal with Enobaria– or just simply held on tighter– she would be there with him in district thirteen.

Jake was an absolute mess, all his playfulness had disappeared over the weeks he had been at district thirteen. He would glare and grumble at anybody who tried talking to him, he never spoke a word– and when he did, it tended to be a crude remark. The people of district thirteen avoided him when he was around them– and he often ate lunch alone.

Clarity had tried to find ways to cheer him up but after a while she realized it was a waste of time. Finnick was under watch in the medical ward, Jake was absolutely heartless to anyone who spoke to him, and Katniss was constantly locked away in her room. Everyone was either worried for Finnick, or scared of Jake, no one knew what to do.

"He's dangerous," Haymitch muttered, sinking into a chair at the dimly lit corner of the district's makeshift mess hall.

Gale, returning from the food line, plunked his platter onto the table. "Who?"

"Jake," Haymitch replied, his eyes scanning the room as if expecting trouble. "Finnick is under surveillance 24/7 to make sure he doesn't try to kill himself again."

Gale raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of curiosity and disbelief. "Damn, all this over some chick?"

Haymitch shot him a sharp look. "She's not just some chick. Malia saved Katniss's life. Put some damn respect to her name."

Gale leaned back, crossing his arms. "You do realize she's dead, right? If the fall didn't kill her, the dangers in that arena did."

Haymitch's eyes narrowed. "Don't play ignorant, Gale. You know as well as I do what it means to owe someone your life."

Gale sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, but this Jake guy—what's his deal? I mean, Katniss always talked about how obnoxious and childish he is. But people are scared of him here."

Haymitch leaned back in his chair. "It's because Jake's in mourning."

"He doesn't look like he's in mourning," Gale says, shifting his gaze towards Jake sitting alone in the corner of the mess hall.

"Don't fucking stare unless you want him to kick your ass," Haymitch tells him. "The last time I saw him like this was after his entire family was killed. Best to mind your damn business and keep your eyes off of him."

But Gale couldn't heed the warning. As Jake sensed Gale's gaze, he stood up, his movements deliberate and purposeful. The murmurs in the mess hall subsided as people noticed the impending confrontation.

"You got a problem, Hawthorne?" Jake's voice was cold, devoid of any of the warmth or camaraderie anyone had heard before.

Gale squared his shoulders, refusing to back down. "Just wondering why everyone's so afraid of you. You don't seem like the type to inspire fear."