FAILURE TO COMPLY ┃ f. odair

5.1 not real

Finnick had said so many things throughout his life that he did not mean, so many lies he'd fed to the hungry Capitol population. He'd lied about how he loved them, how he loved their home and he loved his life as a victor. Every one of those lies had transformed into a truth when he'd told Calypso he loved her, that she was the reason he chose to live and not die with the hope of fading into obscurity.

When he'd told Katniss that he wished he was dead and that Calypso was dead too, he'd hoped it would turn out to be another lie. But now, watching her through one of the infirmary security monitors, he wished she was dead so then at least she'd be at peace.

This was not his love. This woman, screaming and pounding at the locked door, was not his Calypso. Or maybe she was and she was just too far gone. For just a second, he considered if she'd attack him if he were the one to walk into that room, but even a second of entertaining the thought was too much. It made him feel disgusting. She would not. His Calypso would not.

Unable to hear the sounds of her cousin's shouts anymore, Monica muted the security footage. Even still, even with the quiet, Finnick could not remove his eyes from the screen. Calypso's forehead was rested against the door, a single fist weakly pounding as she finally began to tire of her hopeless efforts. On the orders of President Coin, no one was to go in. No one was to even open the door. She'd only been there a number of hours and they'd already deemed her a big enough threat for complete isolation. Just like Peeta.

"You should dim the lights," Finnick mumbled emotionlessly to one of the doctors watching with them. The man, who'd been the poor soul to first be faced with Calypso, made a noise of displeasure but left the room to do as he was told. His eyes returned to the screen. Just a few moments later, the lights turned from a bright, harsh yellow to a softer and warmer light.

Calypso almost immediately seemed to calm, if only a little. She turned her head from the door to watch the light slowly fade into shadows at the corner of the room.

"And what exactly made you think that would help?" Monica questioned quietly. She hadn't said much at all since coming back from the Capitol, other than to tell him Calypso had killed someone.

"There were a few times she had well-timed panic attacks and eased them by watching the sunset," Finnick explained. Perhaps it made no sense to anyone but him, the way those ugly lights could replicate the golden glory she saw in every setting of the sun, each time like she was saying goodbye to Poet all over again. No, the lights were not that beautiful, but it must've made her think of it and him anyway. "We don't need to understand this version of her right away, Monica. We already know who she is."

Monica turned back to the screen and dared to put the volume back up. The shouts had stopped, replaced with desperate, crying breaths as Calypso slid herself down the door until she was a curled-up mess on the floor. Hollow. Broken.

Death would indeed be better for her.

But would Porter or Roman or Cinna or Maisie forgive Finnick for thinking such a thing? Had they both come so far just to give up now? They'd survived together, by the skin of their teeth, and they needed to be together again. Screw Coin and her stupid rules. He was going to see her. He was going to help her.

"Finnick-" Monica called out as he made to leave the room. He ignored her, even as her voice broke at the sound of another crackling cry through the camera. "Finnick, you can't go in there."

"Watch me," he replied, flinging open the security room door and navigating the hallways straight back to Calypso. He'd been so close before Monica had stopped him the first time. Now, the ward was a lot quieter. Peeta was restrained in a separate wing and Johanna was knocked out cold from her medications. There was little reason for anyone to stay around besides the nurses and, of course, Boggs stationed outside Calypso's door. "Let me-"