once upon a time • finnick odair

xxii. i saw the truth.

"They're back," Haymitch announced.

He still couldn't believe it, but they were back.

Haymitch was practically vibrating from where he was standing, and Katniss stood up immediately, followed by Finnick, who was also about to rush out of the door before pausing to embrace Haymitch in a hug.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," Finnick muttered.

Haymitch knew what this meant for the both of them, so instead of shying away from the embrace, he instead patted the taller man's back. "Yeah, yeah. Thank Plutarch."

The two then quickly moved away from their embrace to follow Katniss to the infirmary, which was more peaceful than they anticipated.

The infirmary was quiet, with no medics running around except one, who hit Haymitch's shoulder while running out. They spotted Johanna first, whose long brunette hair was gone and more sickly and pale, clearly much thinner than in the arena.

"Johanna," Katniss gasped.

"Johanna," Haymitch nodded.

Johanna scoffed, ripping her nasal cannula off of herself, to which the medics cringed away.

"Hey, Haymitch," said Johanna. "Don't go see Devon. You won't like what you find."

Haymitch scowled. "What do you mean?"

Johanna shrugged.

"Devon?"

Finnick's eyes landed on another figure, who was obediently getting his blood drawn by the medics with a nasal cannula on him, much smaller and tired, with bruises around his body but none on his face. The burn scar on his ankle only confirmed his identity.

Johanna looked at Haymitch and smirked. "See for yourself."

"Devon!" Finnick cried, running toward him.

He couldn't believe it.

He was here.

With him.

Sick, not whole, never whole, but here.

Real.

Devon glanced up, and the moment Finnick rushed to him to embrace him, Finnick could feel his body tense.

His body was as hard as a rock, unmoving except for the tremors in his body.

Finnick retreated right away. "Devon? Devon, what's wrong? Are you okay—"

A big sound echoed throughout the room as Devon brought his thin hand up to slap him in the face, and Finnick froze in place, trying to process what had happened. He couldn't believe it was true, and slowly raised his hand to his face to feel the heat and aching in his face. It didn't hurt, it couldn't hurt with the physical capability Devon had, but it hurt.

Mentally.

"... Devon?"

Everyone in the medical bay was staring at the two of them, trying, like Finnick, to figure out if what they saw was real.

"Get him out of my face," Devon snarled.

"I'm sorry?" one of the medics asked in dismay.

"Get him out of my face!" Devon yelled. "I don't want to see this asshole right now! Get him out of here! Now!"

"Devon, I don't know what's going on, but—"

"You!" Devon pointed his finger at Haymitch's face, who had intervened to calm him down. "You were in this too, weren't you? Making him pretend that he still loved me so that I can become gullible and you can live and perform your amazing rebel plan? And what are you doing now? Pretending like you still care? Why do you want me? Propaganda? More acts about how you love me? I should've thought it was suspicious when you suddenly decided you wanted to make amends—"