Dead in the Water | An Odesta Fanfic

Chapter Thirty-Two

Finnick had never thought he would be relieved to receive a summons from Snow. He wasn't happy, of course. His hands still shook when he opened the letter. He still felt sick to his stomach as he read the list of clients that were already lined up and waiting for him back in the Capitol. He still had to hold back the tears that swam into his eyes as he watched District 4 fading into the distance through the train window.

But there was something horribly pleasant about playing a part and being someone he wasn't. To be Finnick Odair, the Capitol darling, seemed far less painful than being Finnick Odair, the orphan. He laughed at dull party jokes and flashed charming smiles across crowded rooms. He talked about the weather and worried about his hair as if there was nothing more important in the world. He was careless and shallow and an insufferable flirt and everything else they wanted him to be. He let the endless list of clients strip away any self-respect he had left, and then went and drowned away the pain with a drink.

For the first time in his life, Finnick was alone in the Capitol. Everyone else had stayed behind to keep an eye on Annie and left him alone. Bay wasn't there to stop him from drinking until he blacked out. Mags wasn't there to make sure he was eating more than just the appetizers offered at parties. No one was waiting up for him in the apartment when he crept back in the early hours of the morning. No one was there to notice the bruises on his body and patch him back up before he went out again. No one was there to ask whether he was really okay, and without them, Finnick could almost ignore the question himself.

He wasn't happy, but he was numb. And maybe that was as good as it was going to get.

So why had he come back to District 4?

The sun was already sinking low in the sky when Finnick looked up from his nets. It was so easy to lose track of time out here on the waves, pulling in catches of fish and untangling old nets in an unending rhythm of motion. His parents' house had been cleaned from top to bottom and all of the old memories were packed away, but the grief still wasn't gone. At least he had his own boat, so he could keep his hands busy with fishing when all of the guilt became too overwhelming.

Well, one-third of the boat was his own, anyway. Finnick couldn't ignore the other two names painted on the hull, as much as he tried not to look at them.

He hadn't meant to stay out so close to sunset, but he'd gotten a late start after his train pulled in at noon. Finnick probably shouldn't have gone out at all, but after spending weeks in the Capitol being a useless layabout, he was desperate to do something useful. He had a few buckets of fish in the boat to show for his efforts – not much, but a sizable amount for a lone fisherman. He might have caught more if he'd had a crew. Fishing had always been easier with two friends, after all.

But Finnick was alone.

It was a fact he was sorely reminded of when he tied his boat up at the docks. The real reason Finnick tried not to stay out too late wasn't to avoid nightfall or the chill that set in at dark, but to avoid the crowds of fisherman that were arriving at the docks at sunset. Tonight was no different. The docks were full of the rush of tired workers heading home and the shouts of sailors as they came ashore.

Finnick kept his head down, securing his boat in place, unloading the buckets of fish onto the deck, and storing away his piles of repaired fishnet. He avoided eye contact with the bodies that pushed against him as he walked away. But he couldn't help but hear the silence that settled around him as he passed by. Heavy laughter, tired sighs, muttering about the peacekeepers standing only a few yards away – it all faded into quiet whispers as Finnick walked by. Even without looking up, he could feel the stares on his back.

Being stared at certainly wasn't something Finnick was unfamiliar with. He had enough of it in the Capitol. He was used to the eyes turning on him every time he walked through a doorway. But those stares were accompanied by a babble of chatter and gossip, not this heavy, hateful silence.