𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 (Finnick Odair)

𝚒.

𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛: 𝚒.

𝙳𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚝 𝚃𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚜. Saffreen had stared down at the rubble of the District as they checked it over to make sure Katniss would be safe. It had taken some time getting Katniss back to Twelve. Those in charge of District Thirteen had thought it was a bad idea. Expensive and pointless. Dangerous. It had been Plutarch who'd grown tired of Katniss's begging and approved the brief trip.

And even though it was clear that nothing remained, there were at least a dozen invisible hovercrafts over Katniss's head, making sure that the Mockingjay, their symbol of rebellion, stayed alive.

Saffreen had heard the story of what happened to District Twelve. Katniss had destroyed the arena. As soon as the claw came down to retrieve her, the power had cut, leaving the District in silence. And within fifteen minutes of the power going, bombs were falling.

It had been Gale Hawthorne, Katniss's 'cousin', who got the survivors out. They pulled down the fence and piled into the forest for safety. They had survived in the woods for three days before District Thirteen rescued them.

Thirteen was safe enough. Anyone over fourteen was automatically granted a position as a soldier. Every refugee was given citizenship.

It had only been a month since everything happened. A month since Katniss destroyed the arena and Johanna, Peeta, and Enobaria were taken prisoner by the Capitol. A month since Saffreen's mother and daughter were taken from their home in the night and tortured for information on District Thirteen and the rebellion. As if they knew anything when even Saffreen had had no idea before Plutarch Heavensbee picked her up in a hovercraft from the remnants of the arena, dying of infection and needing surgery on her shoulder that left her with a newly limited range of motion and scars on her arm where infected cuts once were.

She was not the pretty girl who had floated out onto Caesar Flickerman's stage, dressed like a fairy princess and giggling about a romance with Finnick Odair.

She was a mother searching for her child. A daughter searching for a mother that could have been long dead by now. A soldier fighting in a rebellion that she hadn't even known existed a month prior.

And still, somewhere deep down inside of her, a silly little girl who thought that loving Finnick might make everything easier.

Saffreen had only gotten a brief talk with District Thirteen's president, Alma Coin. The woman was nearing fifty with straight, shoulder-length gray hair. Her eyes were a pale, almost unreal gray.

"Ten minutes," she had said to Saffreen when finally it was agreed that she could speak with her. "That's all you get."

So Saffreen had asked everything. How long District Thirteen had been hiding away underground. How many people were there. How they were getting food and water. Why they had never revealed themselves to the world before now. Coin had answered everything patiently. 

It at least made Saffreen feel better to know what was happening. Where she was, who she was dealing with.

Katniss was being used as a tool. Prepped and readied for speeches and propaganda pieces. 

Beetee had been forced into weapons development the moment his wounds had healed. They had wheeled his bed away one morning and Saffreen would only see him at meals sometimes.

Finnick was a whole other story. He never really spoke to anyone but Saffreen. They were trying to turn him into a rebel leader like Katniss. His confidence, his sex appeal, it would work wonders. But it seemed like nothing was getting through to him, even when they recruited Saffreen to relay their messages to him.

Saffreen worked behind the scenes. She wasn't a leader, she was a follower. It would be perfect if they could show just how deeply Saffreen was invested in their cause.

She was too tired to care, really. She went along with whatever they said because she couldn't think of anything else to do. All that she wanted was Deecey and Delta. For them to be safe and alive.

Finnick could understand that. His closest friend, Annie Cresta, gone, taken by the Capitol.

And Peeta was taken from Katniss.

Everyone was grieving in their own ways. Anger for Katniss. Vacant stares and sleep for Finnick. Fragility for Saffreen. Simple things got her to crying and sobbing in the confines of her room. She had given up on any rational thought, doing everything that District Thirteen wished.

Everything was strictly scheduled. Every morning, everyone would stick their arm into a contraption on the wall. It would tattoo their arm with the day's schedule, down to 22:00--Bathing. Everyone was meant to go to bed at 22:30.

Katniss ignored her schedule, mostly. Finnick hardly got out of bed long enough to do anything but eat, and even that required coaxing from Saffren, who followed her schedule strictly. It was the easiest thing to do rather than wandering, searching for some way to fill her mind that drifted to the horrible things that could be being done to Delta and Deecey if left idle.

No one called her to the Command Center when Peeta appeared on Caesar Flickerman's stage. She got the information relayed to her by a surprisingly happy Katniss. Peeta was alive. He was whole. Demanding a cease-fire, so innocent to it all, begging for the weapons to be laid down, claiming that Katniss hadn't known what she was doing when she fired that arrow at the arena.

Saffreen told Finnick that night. She stayed with him, most nights, in his compartment. Sometimes curled up with him in the bed. Sometimes laying beside him but never touching him. Sometimes sitting in a chair beside the bed, watching the slow rise and fall of his breathing.

Tonight, she lay with his arms wrapped around her waist, his head resting on her shoulder. She told him what Katniss had said. That Peeta was alive and at least knew some of what was happening. That he wanted peace instead of fighting.

Finnick had scoffed at that but stayed silent otherwise. Saffreen sighed as she ran her fingers through his bronze hair.

"We'll be okay," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

But they wouldn't be. Their second go-around in the arena, that had cracked them. And this, all of this, their loved ones taken and tortured, that was what shattered them.

She let her forehead rest against his. "We'll be okay," she repeated. "I promise."

"You can't promise that," he said.

She offered him a soft smile. "Who cares? For now, I'm promising."

Finnick hesitated. He was starting to fall asleep. "I love you."

His eyes closed. He settled against her.

Saffreen let out a sigh. "I love you, too, Finnick."