RENEGADE [THE HUNGER GAMES - FINNICK ODAIR] - DISCONTINUED

CHAPTER 15

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Hunger Games trilogy all rights go to Suzanne Collins. I do however own Quinn and her story.

Her fingertips twitched at the thought of being out in the field, at the chance to escape the prison that was District 13. As Plutarch introduced them to the camera crew – Cressida, Messalla, Castor and Pollux – Quinn nodded in greeting as Katniss muttered acknowledgements, looking like a deer caught in headlights. As the group fastened their seatbelts and made idle chitchat whilst the jet prepared for flight, the victor from 5 had decided that she liked Pollux purely for the superficial reason that he couldn't force her into unwanted conversations. Gale shook his head at her, fighting a tiny smile as she scoffed and rolled her eyes whilst Cressida told the younger brunette that they had fled the Capitol for her.

"I'm glad that I can finally film the Ice Queen in action." The blonde director spoke, drawing Quinn's gaze to her blue eyes and tattooed head, although her expression remained passive. "The Capitol was always raving about you. It's a shame that we couldn't have met under better circumstances."

"There are no better circumstances." She responded coldly, her gaze returning to the dagger as she spun it around her fingertips. A smile slowly spread across Cressida's pale lips as she nodded once in agreement; the young woman's reputation had most definitely preceded her.

The rest of the journey was fairly silent, much to Quinn's relief. Her mind wandered to Finnick and then the mission and Peeta, then back to Finnick causing her to mentally kick herself for allowing those feelings to push through her hard exterior and feed the demons that tormented her every thought. It was a distraction, a weakness that she did not need nor want.

The dust and ashes that coated the concrete floor of District 8 whipped her hair as they huddled in a group until the jet took off, abandoning them to the ruins of the city. The atmosphere caused her to cough and reminded her of the centre of the arena during her games – a memory that she would rather forget as it lived so vividly in her mind; pushing it back into the lockbox at the centre of her mind, she almost felt the warm sticky blood of her district partner as it splattered her face and oozed over her snow-white hands. Subconsciously, she wiped her palms on her suit, ignoring the slight tremor that accompanied her trips to the past. Taking as deep a breath as the dusty air would allow, she glanced forward to see Commander Paylor, who seemed surprised to find that the Mockingjay had survived. As they followed the leader of District 8 into a derelict hospital, Quinn's stomach flipped as she was smacked in the face by the thick stench of decaying bodies. The corridors were lined with bloody corpses, nothing but a plastic sheet separating them from the wounded. The massive room on the other side of the curtain was filled with families; the air was thick with infection and the smell of rotting flesh suffocated the only oxygen available. Her blue eyes watered at the stench of death forcing her to swallow heavily. As she stepped forward, her boots splashed into a large puddle of innocent blood causing her eyes to widen and her jaw to tense as she looked at the thick sticky red liquid that coated the black leather on her feet. She met Gale's stare which comfortingly mirrored her concern as pity oozed through their sapphire eyes for the people that had become victims of their rebellion. A horrible feeling of guilt settled in as she watched the families grieve over the dead bodies of their children, their fathers and mothers. The Capitol had truly done everything in their power to break the people of the Panem and it was in that moment that Quinn realised that perhaps the idea of the Mockingjay as a symbol of hope was not as futile as she had originally suspected, regardless of whether or not she thought they had chosen the right person.

"Don't film me in here." Katniss pleaded, her face full of fright as it waltzed with helplessness. "I can't help them."

"Just let them see your face." Cressida instructed, nodding in encouragement as the girl copied the motion numbly.