Prompt: Can you please write a one shot where The rebels lost the war (Finnick is still alive) thanks! I know it's a weird request but I was just wondering what other people would've thought happened! Can it be Finnick and Annie centric, Like what happens to them? Thanks! :)
Finnick sat on his small, uncomfortable bed with his back against the cold, hard wall of his Capitol cell. His face was in his hands. It was nearing dawn but he hadn't slept a wink. How could he? How could he rest knowing that his beloved Annie was somewhere here in this prison, being threatened and beaten and probably worse by those monsters? That is, if they hadn't already killed her.
They had been trapped for almost a week now. The Peacekeepers separated Finnick and Annie on the night they were arrested, and they hadn't seen each other since. Finnick screamed for Annie during his waking hours, and cried for her during his few sleeping ones. But despite his desperate pleas and begging and bribing, the guards did not relent. Finnick and Annie were not to see each other – it was President Snow's orders.
Finnick jumped straight to his feet at the sound of his cell door opening. It was a guard, coming to deliver Finnick's breakfast – a bowl of lumpy porridge and a glass of water.
"Where is she?" Finnick asked immediately.
The guard sighed and placed his breakfast down on the floor.
"For the last time, you're not allowed to see her. It doesn't matter how many times you ask, nothing's going to change."
"Can you at least tell me if she's okay?!" shouted Finnick.
"I can't tell you because I don't know," said the guard. "Now, if you'll excuse me."
He slipped out of the cell and locked the door shut. Finnick ran towards it and started hammering his fist against the harsh metal.
"WHERE IS SHE?" he bellowed. "YOU LET ME OUT, AND YOU LET ME OUT NOW! I HAVE TO SEE HER! PLEASE, I NEED TO SEE HER!"
Finnick continued until the skin on both of his fists became red and cracked and he could barely talk anymore. When he heard the jingle of keys and the lock opening from the other side of the cell door, he retreated backwards, preparing himself for a fight. But it wasn't an angry guard standing in the doorway – it was President Snow, looking extremely relaxed and almost... happy.
"My dear Finnick, my guards have reported to me that you've been giving them an awful amount of trouble," he smiled in his wicked way.
Finnick panted and struggled to regain his breath.
"I want to see Annie."
There was a pause before Snow held his arm up to the dingy corridor outside.
"Then step this way."
"What?" said Finnick, his face screwing up in confusion.
Snow was letting him see Annie? He was actually going to let him talk to her after giving orders to the guards to keep them separated?
"If you want to see your precious girlfriend, follow me."
Snow wandered out of the cell and Finnick hurried to catch up with him. They walked around corners and down hallways, accompanied by two guards. Finnick knew that there was something wrong about this, something that Snow wasn't telling him. Why on earth would he let Finnick see Annie so suddenly after he'd been roaring and protesting for six whole days previously? It was definitely suspicious, but Finnick was so overcome with joy at the prospect of being reunited with Annie that it overruled any sort of doubt in his mind.
They arrived in front of a large window beside a steel door, that was blocked by thick red curtains from the inside. Snow nodded at the guards and without a word, they unlocked the door and closed it behind them again with an almighty thud. They each stood at one side of the window and began to draw the curtains back to reveal what was inside the room to Finnick.
The sight made him recoil in shock. Behind the window was a large laboratory, white and clean and sterile, full of top-of-the-range Capitol computers, bottles and jars filled with brightly coloured liquids, and all sorts of medical instruments displayed on shelves. In the middle of the room, there was a shiny metal table on wheels, and strapped to the table by several black restraints, lay an unconscious girl wearing nothing but a thin hospital gown with flawless pale skin and long, red hair.
"ANNIE!"
Finnick lunged forwards and started pounding his fist against the glass. He choked and started crying as he realised just what the Capitol had done to his one and only love.
All of her exposed skin – her face, her arms, her legs – was covered in deep bruises that ranged in colour from blue to purple to yellow. Hundreds and hundreds of little red cuts filled in the gaps between the bruises, littering everywhere from her forehead to her feet. She had a black eye, her lips were swollen, and there were dry blood stains around her nose. On the inside of her elbow were several pinprick holes that could only have been made by the needles of syringes.
Finnick could feel his legs giving way. He slumped forward and used the glass to support his shaking body. Tears clouded his vision as he struggled to find air and repeatedly cried Annie's name.
"Don't worry, she's not dead," said an emotionless President Snow. "Yet."
Finnick felt a lifetime's worth of hate and fury bubbling away inside him. He looked up at Snow with stone-cold eyes and a ruthless expression. Snow merely smirked at him.
"That's enough for today. Let's get you back to your cell."