Sugarcubes // Finnick Odair - Hunger Games Fanfic

V.

Annie is gone.

I don't know whether that is a good thing or a bad thing. It could mean that Snow has kept his word, and released her, or it could mean that he has killed her. Either way, I have no power.

When I return from my meeting with Snow, Annie is gone, and Peeta has returned, except this time, he looks truly terrible.

"Peeta!" As soon as I enter the room, I rush to him. My voice seems to be of no use though because he shows no response. The peacekeeper, hesitant to be as rash with me as he normally would after I struck a deal with president snow, ushers me back to my cell. There are some things that will never change in the capitol.

"Peeta!"

He ignores me.

I try once again, this time reaching my hands through the bars and touching him. He acts like me. He lashes out, retracting from me as though my touch is poison.

"Peeta," I coo softly, as though I am talking to Pinky, Lia's stupid sheep. He looks up at me, and slowly, his expression returns to the normal one that I recognize. His face though, still looks as though he has aged a thousand years.

"Kendria," he says, breathing in and out deeply. "I thought-"

I wait, but he doesn't finish his sentence. I don't know what they did to him, but whatever they did, he doesn't deserve this. He is pure. He is the only pure victor to ever emerge from the games. He does not deserve whatever they did.

"Oh Peeta, what did they do?" I ask, brushing his hair softly. He's only seventeen, I realize, and my pity for him soars. I am almost twenty-five, and I am falling apart. How is he expected to deal with this, being only seventeen?

"I don't know. I'm seeing things, Kendria. I don't know... I don't know what's real and what's not real." He says, and he sounds truly terrified.

I don't know what to say. I try to think, of what they could've given him to make his see things, but I can't seem to remember anything. Maybe a bad concussion? I'm not sure.

"What are you seeing, Peeta?" I ask softly, but I'm not sure if I even want to hear what he's seeing. I see enough of my own nightmares, without any help from the Capitol. I can't imagine what I would do if the Capitol made me see things.

"She's killing you," he says, and I reach my hands into his cell, so he can touch me. I think physical touch helps when you're losing your mind.

"Who's killing me?" I ask, but he looks around in fear, whimpering. I don't push it. We stay silent for a while, and then he speaks again.

"I might forget things, Kendria." He tells me, and I can hear the fear in his voice at the thought of forgetting things. I know what he means. There are certain things that I remember – that make me who I am. If I forget these things, there's a chance that I will lose myself – and that's what's scaring Peeta.

"Tell them to me, Peeta. I'll remember them for you," I say, and he squeezes my hand appreciatively. He nods at me, and I smile encouragingly – adding another person to the list of people who have seen my real smile.

"I'm from District 12. I'm a baker. My father is kind and soft. He feeds the squirrels and believes in kindness. I have two brothers, who are mischievous, but delightful. I come from a family of bakers."

He pauses, as though it's hard for him to figure out what is important to him. I decide to give him a nudge in the right direction.

"Alright, Baker boy, what's your favorite color?" I ask, a hint of playfulness in my voice.