Fandom: The Hunger Games

Story Title: For Whatever We Lose (A You or a Me)

Summary: And when Finnick rescues her, with a joke and his hand on her shoulder, he can see Annie's death reflected in all of their eyes. /Or, what if Annie went back to the arena?

Character/Relationship(s): Finnick Odair/Annie Cresta

Rating: T

Warnings: Canon typical stuff.

Story Word Count: 1.1k

Disclaimer: I don't own anything recognizable.

Notes: The first half was written for a ficathon, then rewritten and elaborated on. Much thanks to Morgan for the support tonight that helped me finish this.


for whatever we lose (a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea

-e.e. cummings


When Annie's name is called again, she screams.

There is no response in the crowd. Finnick has to applaud the Capitol their stroke of genius. When even Victors, killers, champions of chance, have to be dragged bodily to the stage by Peacekeepers as they cry, there is no hope for the rest of them.

He longs to push them away from Annie, to grab her and run, swim, fly far away, but he can't do that. He digs his fingernails into the meaty flesh of his palms to keep himself from acting.

When his own name is Reaped there is already blood on his hands.

.

That night on the train speeding them towards the Capitol Finnick goes to Annie's room. She went there immediately after the reaping and has not come out since, not to talk, to eat, to plan with the rest of them.

Annie has no idea about the revolution, and Finnick hopes to keep it that way. What he had not been expecting was for her to be Reaped alongside him. Anyone else—literally anyone else—and he would have been able to bear it. But not this.

Her eyes are on the flashing images as they pass by, the speed of the train making them little more than dark blurs against the night sky. She is no longer crying, but Finnick can see the path that her tears took down her face.

"I'm going to die, Finn," she says, her wobbling voice the only trace of her fear. "I don't want to die."

"You're not going to die," Finnick tells her. He has been lying for so long now that falsehoods taste the same as truth on his tongue, but Annie knows better. She alone knows what the truth really sounds like coming from him. "I'm not going to let you die."

Annie gives him a pitying look and holds out her hand. He sleeps with his head in her lap that night, her fingers threading through his hair.

.

Annie hasn't been to the Capitol since her own Victory Tour, Finnick has made sure of that, so it's with a degree of wonder that she looks at the Capitol wide-eyed. Every few years the face of the city changes, and her eyes reflect with the ever-changing colors on the buildings, which is the fashion now.

Some days are better than others. Some days she is fine, she is Annie; sweet and soft-spoken and strong. Some days it's like she's forgotten where they are going. And some days she huddles on the floor and covers her ears and she can't get out of the hell that she's built for herself.

Finnick hates that he can't do anything for her, that he can't help her despite the fact that he would do anything, if there were anything to do.

.

When the people from the Capitol smile, they smile with shark's teeth—awe inspiring and sharp and able to rip the flesh from bone. Annie can sense this even when everything else is muddled to her. It is the one thing that she remembers with clarity.

They smile at their Victors, bearing their teeth, and Annie whimpers as she grabs for Finnick's hand.

Finnick has done hard things before; he has murdered and lied and been sold to the highest bidder. And yet in that moment he decides that the hardest thing that he has ever done in his life is press his lips Annie's hairline—a brotherly kiss to the eyes of anyone who looks closely—and then he lets her go.

"Remember, sponsors," he whispers. That had been their litany on the train ride to the party.

Annie nods before she whimpers, covering her hand to muffle the sound. She walks ahead of him—she has always been braver than him—and he watches until he loses her in the crowd. He knew he would.

After that Finnick becomes Finnick Odair, all smiles and laughs and jokes. For the first time in a long time his face begins to hurt from all of the expressions that he is forcing himself to convey, and his mind is not wholly on what he is doing.

He cannot help but wonder about Annie, cannot help but wonder if she is keeping her head above water or if she is drowning.

When he finally is able to excuse himself, when he has satisfied his fans and lovers enough to extract himself from their grip, he finally sees Annie again. She is surrounded, the sharks are circling her, and he can only watch as she heads deeper beneath the water.

And when Finnick rescues her, with a joke and his hand on her shoulder, he can see Annie's death reflected in all of their eyes.

.

Finnick is worried about training, about leaving Annie alone again, but Annie thrives. She goes directly to the ropes and starts to weave the way that Mags taught them. Over and under, over and under. The rhythm sooths her, and Finnick feels confident leaving her alone.

When he comes back from throwing his trident he finds Annie with Katniss Everdeen, who is smiling softly as Annie shows her an intricate pattern of rope and hook.

And Annie, who will barely even speak to Johanna, is smiling back. And beyond that she is speaking, moving her hands. Her eyes are shining.

Finnick makes a mental note to speak to Haymitch. It seems like the Girl on Fire will be a decent ally for more reason than one.

.

The night before they are to be shipped off to the arena to be slaughtered, Annie comes to him. Her hair is loose and messy across her shoulders, and she's wearing a simple white nightgown, something that she'd wear at home.

Finnick has seen a lot of people over the years, has seen them sculpted and perfected by doctors and surgeons and always being fed. He has seen make-up caked on faces and modifications made to make faces more attractive. And even after all that, seeing Annie undone is always the most beautiful thing that he's ever seen.

She burrows into his blanket and puts her head on his chest. Only the desperate way that she is clutching his shirt betrays the fact that this is not like any other day, that they are not at home with the sea a constant behind them.

"I don't want to die," she tells him.

"You're not going to die," he swears, more forceful this time. He will get them out of there—he and the rest of the rebellion. He is more sure of it than ever now.

Annie looks at him, scans his face to read his secrets, but he can tell that she doesn't find any. He is a Capitol crafted Victor here. All he does is tell lies and bury secrets.

.

He can sense Annie's hesitation as soon as they are in the arena and the first thing they see is water. She looks at him from across the water and he knows that what she told him is true.

She is going to die.