i've lost myself, or most of me
finnick & annie
( crazy love )
disclaimer: not mine.
I'm losing ground and gaining speed
I've lost myself (or most of me)
I'm headed for the final precipice...
But you haven't lost me yet.
- Yet, Switchfoot
"Did you love Annie right away, Finnick?" I ask.
"No." A long time passes before he adds, "She crept up on me."
The first thing Annie thought was I'm dreaming. But later, when she thinks more about it, that seems as though it's the most improbable explanation. Everything was too vivid, the images too sharp, the sounds too marked. She can hardly remember what happened after her name was called, the only clearclearclear thing she can is recall a chilling sense of fear.
She remembers saying goodbye to her parents. She remembers the tears, the sobs, the promises that she was forced to make. And then she was out the door, being led by her elbow to the train station. She likens the experience to that of a fish on a hook. She is trapped, in pain, utterly helpless. But struggling will only make it worse.
She remembers the train; the fancy compartments; the rich food; the extravagance of it all. Like the fattening of a calf before slaughter.
There's one more thing; she can feel it in the far reaches of her mind. She stretches for it, feeling it on her fingertips before she fully grasps it.
Finnick Odair did not ask to be idolized in the Capitol. He did not ask to be in the Hunger Games. And he most certainly did not ask to train children to kill other children.
He realizes very quickly that life in Panem is just a series of choices made for you. Rebellion means death, or worse. So when he's chosen for the Hunger Games, he doesn't resist. When he's called to the Capitol again and again, he goes without question. And when President Snow turns him into an object that can be sold, rather than a human being, he can do nothing but obey.
It's a system that he hates, but a system that he lives by.
He's lost tribute after tribute in those dreaded Games. The guilt builds up year after year, again and again until he's struggling to hold up the weight of it all.
But he just pushes it aside, as he does everything else. Some victors have morphling, some have alcohol, but not Finnick. He just ignores all the pain and smiles and waves and blows kisses to the crowd because he simply can't think of any other option he has.
It's shallow, but it's all he can do.
His life after the Hunger Games is just a series of parties and appearances and late nights in his hotel with women he doesn't know. It's monotonous, extreme, and garish. (But is there anything in the Capitol that isn't?)
He hates his life, but he knows if he leaves others will suffer his consequences, and he would not wish that on anybody.
Annie is unlike any tribute that Finnick has ever seen.
She is a series of contradictions, and he doesn't really know what to think.
He sees her spew insults at him, and he sees her smile and squeeze her District partner's hand. He sees her lash out at her prep team, calling them "brainless and idiotic" among other things, and he sees her talking kindly to Andromeda Crystal, an elderly woman serving as the other mentor for District 4. He sees her laugh bitterly and he sees her smile genuinely. He sees her true side and he sees the way the Capitol makes her.
He sees her, and she confuses him.
She skates through the private session, scoring a 10. He asks her how this happened and she just smiles ohsoinnocently and says, "It's a secret."
He's not sure he believes her, but by now, if Finnick knows anything about Annie Cresta, it's to never underestimate her.
The arena is beautiful and terrible. Long, rolling hills. Gray, craggy cliffs. A small woods. A lake at the top of the mountains, surrounded by a dam.
As soon as the gong sounds, Annie is streaking over the grassy hills towards the Cornucopia, her long, brown braid flying behind her. She grabs a backpack, a set of knives, and a sword before sprinting away again, heading for the mountains.
She runs into a Career two days in. She had managed to stay well hidden this whole time, keeping to the mountains, hiding in caves and the occasional pine tree. She watches as he stumbles to the lake, dropping to his knees and not bothering to purify the water before gulping it down greedily. She creeps up behind him and slits his throat without blinking.
After the hovercraft picks him up, she begins gathering her things. Suddenly, there is a knife pressed against her throat and an arm surrounding her shoulders. "Don't struggle," a voice says from behind her. She gasps when she recognizes it.
"Tristan, Tristan, it's me, Annie! Don't kill me," she pleads breathlessly.
"You can't fool me," he says, "You may have been nice to me back in Four, but I just saw you kill that boy. I'm not letting you go."
"Please, Tristan, don't! You've got to believe me, I had to do it!"
Tristan snorts and pushes the knife harder against her neck. "There's never an excuse for killing someone."
"Then you won't kill me," Annie gasps as the knife presses into her flesh, marking a red line along her throat and cutting off her oxygen supply. She's struggling, and Tristan can see it. After a moment of fierce indecision, he drops his hands, letting the knife fall to the ground, clattering on the stone.
Annie sucks in large breaths, rubbing her neck fiercely, sighing when she pulls her hand back and sees the red stains. "Allies?" She pants. She holds out the hand that isn't still massaging her throat.
He takes her hand and shakes it. "Allies," he agrees.
Back in the Capitol, Finnick breathes a sigh of relief.
She came from nowhere. One moment Annie was laughing with Tristan, joking about the state of their dirt-stained clothing. Then there was a flash of steel, a spurt of blood, a dull thump, and a blood-curdling scream. The scream continues as Annie draws her sword with lightning-quick reflexes and slashes the District 2 girl, over and over and over and over until her body is nothing but a bloody, mutilated mess. Annie looks down.
The scream continues, arching higher in pitch, when she sees Tristan's face staring up at her, his laugh still frozen in his features. She follows the trail of blood to his body lying a few feet away, his neck ending in a dreadful bloody stump.
Annie sinks to her knees and almost laughs when she finally realizes it's hers. The scream is hers.
The sobs begin, her body shaking with the violence of her cries as her tears mix with Tristan's blood, staining the rock underneath her with rose-pink droplets.
The water tastes like salt.
It didn't before, when it was a lake, but that's okay, because Annie is used to the taste now. Salt is the taste of ocean and raw meat and blood and tears. Things all too familiar to her now. She laughs as she treads water, staring up at the mountains around her, finding the tops of trees just poking up from beneath the watery grave. Well, it's a grave to everyone else. To her it's a break, a vacation, a chance to forget. She thinks that's why she laughs.
She pushes with her legs, moving to float on her back. She paddles with her feet, gliding with ease through the murky water. She bumps into something once. She thinks it might have been that boy from District 8. But she ignores it and keeps swimming. Just keep swimming, she thinks to herself. Just keep swimming and you'll be happy. She hears some splashing and it vaguely registers that there has been a girl in a tree not too far from here for more than a day now. She must have fallen out.
The girl doesn't know how to swim, and within minutes there's an eerie silence, a cannon, and Annie sees the girl's body float to the surface.
Trumpets sound, and a Annie can hear a man shouting over speakers. But she doesn't respond, she just keeps kicking at a leisurely pace through the water, floating on her back and thinking, Just keep swimming.
Then someone is holding her and she is moving up and away from the lake of blood and tears and she feels a sting in her arm and the world goes black.
Finnick pushes his way through the crowded hallway, shoving anyone who gets in his way aside as he runs as fast as his perfect legs can carry him. He bursts through the door to find Andromeda shaking her head sadly as she stands by Annie's beside.
Annie is awake, rocking back and forth as she holds her hands against her ears. She doesn't cry. She just sways slowly back and forth, her knees pulled up to her chest, her hands blocking all sound as they stay pressed tightly over her ears. Every once in a while she'll laugh.
Finnick can only stare helplessly as she does this. "She's insane," Andromeda murmurs. "What are we going to do? She can't be in front of Panem like this."
Finnick squares his shoulders and turns his attention to Andromeda. "It's okay. I'll see what I can do. You go." The old woman nods and shuffles from the room.
Finnick kneels next to Annie's bed. "Annie?"
She stops rocking and takes her hands off of her ears. "Yes?"
"How did this happen?" He asks, simply because he cannot think of what else to say.
Annie pauses. "It's a secret." Then she laughs and goes back to her swaying, humming a melody that will only ever make sense to her.
Annie manages to look mildly normal during her post-victory interviews. She still laughs randomly and sometimes she'll cover her ears, but there's no more rocking, and Ceasar makes sure that talking is kept to a minimum.
Annie is unable to process anything. She feels like she's looking at the world through strong glasses, glasses that she doesn't need. Everything is distorted and blurred, nothing makes sense anymore.
She doesn't know if anything ever will again.
Things settle down a bit after they get back home. Annie is moved into her house, in the Victor's Village in District 4, right next-door to Mags. "I'll take care of her," Mags promises in a clear, assuring tone (this was before her stroke).
Annie is sitting on her porch. She rests back on her hands, her face towards the sky, her eyelids lightly hiding the emerald of her eyes. Her legs hang lazily over the steps leading up to her house, and her shoulder presses against the white, wooden post of the doorway.
Finnick walks past, on his way back home after visiting with his parents, when he sees her. She looks almost... normal. This must be one of her good days.
"Hello, Finnick," Annie calls to him, after opening one of her eyes slightly and spotting him watching.
Yes, he decides. One of her good days. "Hi, Annie. How are you?"
"Pretty good. Today my mind feels... clear. Clearer than it's been in a long time." She opens both her eyes fully and sits up, scooting herself out of the shade as she slides down a few steps, sitting on the second-to-last. "Want to come sit?"
Finnick nods, a little unsure, and takes long strides down the path to the front of her house. Annie pats the spot next to her on the step, and he sits down.
"What were you doing out?" Annie asks him.
"I was visiting my family."
"They don't live with you?"
"Oh, they've never wanted to come live with me. Think everything's too fancy here. They're afraid of ruining it." He laughs softly. "What about you? How's your family?"
Annie shrugs. "Don't know. I don't really see them that much anymore."
She closes her eyes. "They didn't really take a liking to the Hunger Games victor version of me."
He's taken aback. They just abandoned her? "I'm so sorry."
She shrugs again. "S'okay. I don't really mind. I have Mags to take care of me. She's almost like a mom, I guess."
"A really old mom." Finnick says.
Annie almost smiles.
The Capitol makes Annie mentor the following year. They make Finnick go, too. He ends up getting called nearly every year, on account of the fact that he's so popular. He can only recall one year that he had not gone, and that was only so the newest victor could get a chance to go.
It's the middle of the night. Finnick wanders the train, as he usually does. He can never sleep on these Capitol transports. Every clickclack of the wheels just reminds him of how much closer he's getting towards the Capitol and all it holds for him. President Snow will start selling him again as soon as he gets there. He gets a short break during the actual Games, to do his job, but that's small compensation for what he has to go through until then.
He's pacing the dining car when he hears a noise behind him. He turns around to find Annie standing there, looking surprised. "Oh, heh, sorry, I didn't realize this car was, heh, occupied. I'll, um, go-"
"No," Finnick cuts her off. "It's okay. You can stay, if you want." Annie hesitates, but she eventually steps forward. She takes a seat at one of the tables. Finnick slides into the chair across from her. "What are you doing up?"
"I could ask you the same thing, you know," she says.
Finnick smiles. "Well, the thing is, if I get too much beauty sleep, then I might blind people with my amazing good looks."
Annie snorts. "Oh, you'll blind people all right..." She begins laughing, really laughing, not that maniacal laugh that she makes all the time. This is different. It's a sound Finnick hasn't heard in so long, he's forgotten what it's like. He can't help it. He laughs too.
He's surprised at how well she's doing right now. She's on her way back to the place of nightmares and she seems to be almost back to normal. To how she was before. He can't help but think that maybe she'll recover. Maybe she'll be normal again, and things will be good.
Finnick eventually sends Annie to bed. He insists she needs the sleep, so she can deal well with all of the things to come.
The next morning, as they pull into the Capitol, a sort of vacant look covers Annie's face. Finnick puts his hand on her shoulder, and her expression flickers, but her eyes glass over once again. Finnick ends up having to lead her to the car that will take them to the Training Center, because she doesn't move right away when the doors to the train open. He steers her into her room once they've reached their destination. He sits her down on her bed and takes her face between his hands, forcing her to look at him. "Annie, are you alright?"
She shakes her head, but he isn't really sure she hears him. "Annie?"
A sort of choked sob escapes her lips and she gasps out, "I can't do this." Finnick leans forward and envelops her in a hug as the tears come quicker and she starts to whimper.
He just rocks her back and forth and says, "I know. I know."
Finnick sighs and throws his head back as hot water from the shower rushes over his body. He scrubs hard, using three different types of soaps. He needs to get her smell off of him. How much perfume did she even put on?
This was routine for him now. Meet with the highest bidder. Let her do what she wants. She leaves. Then he showers and tries to forget that he's been forced into prostitution. That he's nothing more than another Capitol toy, something to be bought, played with, and then thrown aside.
He's thought about resisting many times. He wants to sosobadly. But he's always been afraid of the consequences. They're too big. The only thing he has left is his family, and Snow can take them away just as easily as he's taken away all of Finnick's freedom.
Finnick has always thought that the President has some weakness. He's been determined to find it. The only way he can is through secrets. Whispered words passed between silk sheets and around empty champagne bottles. Finnick knows that one day he'll hear a secret, a big one, about President Snow, and he'll be able to use it against him.
Finnick turns off the shower. After drying off and getting dressed, he raises his forearm to his face and sniffs. He wrinkles his nose. The smell is still there. He's too tired to do anything more about it, though. Besides, he has to get to dinner. He prepares himself before he leaves, pushing his misery and guilt and depression far inside himself, deep deep down until the sharp pangs transform into a dull ache. He slips into his mask of indifference, the one that helps him portray a more cocky, confident, presumptuous Finnick.
Satisfied with his change of personality, he opens the door to his suite and steps out into the hallway, walking until he reaches the dining room. Everyone's already there, the two tributes, their stylists, the District escort, and Annie. He sits down next to one of the stylists (he's forgotten her name, she's new this year) and starts filling his plate. The woman next to him gives him a shy smile and a wave. Finnick winks and starts eating.
He can feel Annie's eyes on him as he shovels his food in. He tries to ignore her. But eventually he relents and looks up. Her sea green eyes don't look empty as they usually do.
After he finishes eating he gets up, bids the team goodnight, and walks briskly from the room.
He doesn't hear Annie coming. He doesn't know she's there until he feels a small, tentative hand on his shoulder. "Finnick?" He turns around. She drops her hand from his shoulder and cocks her head to the side. "Are you okay?"
Hearing her verbalize the very question that has been on his mind every second of every day is just too much, and the emotions come flooding out of him, encircling his soul until he's practically begging for mercy. The regret surrounds him, the despair overwhelms him, and the distress makes his body its own. He drops his head into his hands and takes a deep, shuddering breath. "No. I tired of this, Annie. I'm just so tired."
Annie nods and wraps her small, thin arms around his waist. Finnick hesitates before doing the same, his arms encircling her shoulders. "Why does this happen, Finnick?" Annie asks simply. She looks up at him, her green eyes wide and questioning.
Finnick sighs. "I don't know."
She nods, taking a deep breath. "Okay." Then she reaches up, grabs Finnick's face, and kisses him.
It's then that Finnick thinks that maybe, for the first time in a long time, this is the start of something good.
He keeps it a secret. At least, he tries to. But by this time Finnick knows, there are no secrets when it comes to the Capitol. And there are especially no secrets when it comes to President Snow.
There are days when Annie's not sure what's real and what isn't, and sometimes she thinks that maybe she's still in the Arena, and she has to get out, but not without Tristan, but she can't find him and she's so confused and it just hurts.
And she feels like she's drowning, drowning in a sea of tears, but it doesn't make sense, because she's always been a good swimmer. But this water is different, the currents are stronger than back home, and the water stings her skin, and she can't breathe, can't breathe because the guilt and the pain and the fear are strangling her.
But then Finnick comes. He extends his hand and she takes it and he pulls her to shore and out of this nightmare, the nightmare that's become her life.
And then the line between fact and fiction becomes a little less blurred, and she comes back to real life.
"Annie... are you going to give me any advice or anything?" One of the District 4 tributes cocks his head to the side, questioning her. Annie doesn't say anything, she just stares at him, stares and tries not to think about how he looks just like Tristan.
If Finnick were here, he would come, take Annie by the shoulder and whisper kindly, "I'll take it from here." And then he would give the tributes all the right advice, and their chances of coming home would be so much greater. But Annie has enough trouble taking care of just herself, and she thinks it's cruel that the Capitol made her come the one time that Finnick wasn't called.
She shakes her head slowly and says the only word that she can think of. "Sorry."
The boy's face falls and he says, "When you go back home, can you tell my family that I love them?"
The boy dies three days in. The girl too. But she died earlier in the game, in the bloodbath at the Cornucopia.
The nightmares come back, the ones where Annie's stuck in the Arena, swimming around Tristan's head, his blood sharp in her mouth. But now both the tributes are in the water too, floating on their backs and singing, "You didn't save us," over and over and over until she's screaming and thrashing and Shoal has to come and shake her out of it because she's scaring the attendants on the train.
Shoal is a nice boy, but Annie doesn't like him. She's biased, of course. Because if he didn't win the Games last year, he wouldn't have to be here now, and maybe Finnick could have saved that poor tribute, the one who never had a chance in the first place. He's good at that. Helping people who are so hopelessly gone everyone else has given up on them.
He did it for Annie, after all.
There have been whispers of rebellion. Rumors of uprising. Murmurs of freedom. Finnick is determined to be in on this, so he approaches the one person he thinks would most likely be involved - Haymitch Abernathy. He has a feeling that Haymitch is involved, and even if he isn't, he won't report Finnick to anybody, that much he knows for sure.
He corners him after a party one night in the Capitol, just before the start of the Games. Haymitch stands at the edges of the crowd, jumpy and nervous. Finnick is more than a little surprised. Haymitch has never cared about his tributes before, why should he start now? Then he remembers. Haymitch has a girl that scored an 11 this year. There's a big chance she might win this.
Finnick slinks up next to Haymitch and leans back against the wall. He murmurs softly, "I've heard things of rebellion. Are you in on any of this?"
Haymitch laughs loudly and drunkenly and says, "Kid, you have no idea what you're getting yourself into."
Finnick frowns and says with determination, "I want in. Please. You've got to let me."
Haymitch takes this in for a moment, drinking (probably alcohol) from the crystal glass in his hand. "Fine. But don't talk to me about this. Wait until the party's over. Then you need to find Plutarch Heavensbee."
Annie is at Finnick's house, watching some stupid Capitol program with him because it's mandatory viewing. Finnick isn't sure why, though. Who cares about what wedding dress that poor Katniss girl is going to have to wear? In his opinion, both she and the other "star-crossed-lover" are too young to be getting married.
"Remember to stay tuned for the next big event of the evening!" Ceasar Flickerman's overly-perky voice blares from the television set. "That's right, this year will be the seventy-fifth anniversary of the Hunger Games, and that means it's time for our third Quarter Quell!"
They go to commercial, and all Finnick can think about is those poor tributes that'll be going this year. The Quarter Quell means bigger and greater, and bigger and greater to the Capitol means gorier and more painful to everybody else.
The anthem plays over the television speakers, and Finnick feels Annie's hand tighten around his. President Snow takes the stage. He starts to drone on in that awful, cold, stony voice about the past Quarter Quells. "And now we honor our third Quarter Quell," he says ominously. He pulls an envelope out of a box and runs one long, pale, thin finger under the flap. As as soon as he's pulled out the card, the card with the prompt for this year, Finnick wishes that Annie did not have to watch.
"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to all the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from the existing pool of victors."
Finnick almost gasps, but then he remembers that he is with Annie, and he has to be strong for her sake.
He glances nervously at her, and she's wringing her hands and staring with wide eyes at the television. Her mouth is open, forming words that he can't hear. "Annie," he says, putting his hands on her shoulders, "neither of us is going to be picked." He keeps his eyes on her face, willing her to look at him. But she just stares with wide eyes at the now-blank television screen.
Annie closes her eyes and tries hard to make her mind form the words. She pieces the words together to form sentences, which then go on form complete thoughts. She opens her eyes and looks at Finnick helplessly. "But what if..." her voice trails off and she just doesn't have the strength (or sanity) to go on.
He leans forward and kisses her. "It won't happen," he says reassuringly.
But the odds have never been with either of them, especially not since he joined the rebellion, and Finnick knowsknowsknows that Annie's "what-if" is more than likely to occur.
When she is reaped for the Quarter Quell, the scared feeling comes back. That trapped, afraid, dreadful, horrible feeling. She doesn't know what to do, so she just loses it. She shakes and moans and closes her eyes shut tight and tries to believe that she's dreaming, that this is all just a dream and she's going to wake up in Finnick's arms and everything will be fine. But then she hears a shout come up, a shout from a terribly familiar voice, and she opens her eyes and watches in awe as Mags, eighty-year-old, incapable-of-speech Mags, climbs bravely up the steps, leaning heavily on her cane.
And Annie knows that this is one debt that she can nevernevernever repay.
When he is reaped for the Quarter Quell, he only feels numb. He doesn't feel anger or sadness. Only a chilling sense of nothing, and that scares him more than anything, because he thinks that maybe he's just not capable of emotion anymore. But then he remembers that thing that stirs inside his chest whenever he's around Annie, and he's sure that he can still feel.
It gives him the strength to raise his hand, to start forward and climb the steps for possibly the last time, and take his place next to Mags. And he's scared, scared because he doesn't want to have to kill his own mentor, but he can see it in her eyes when she shakes his hand. And he knows then that she did this for him.
And Finnick knows that he'll alwaysalwaysalways be thankful.
Annie watches the Games because she has to, because she knows that they're watching her, and one wrong move means she's gone, either her or Finnick. So she turns on the television, the volume turned up so she can hear everything clearly, and she sits facing the screen, making sure that she looks like she actually interested.
But instead of listening or watching or paying attention she just goes deep inside her mind and searches, searches for something that will make her feel better. It's hard, finding memories, that's always been the hardest since... since...
She shudders and can't even think about it, because that is one memory that she has no trouble remembering, and it just makes everything worse.
She continues, she searches, reaches, feeling blindly for something, anything happy. Something brushes her reach and she closes her fist around it, locking it in her grasp. The images flood back, vivid and colorful and almostreal.
It's her and Finnick. He's showing off for her, cartwheeling and rolling and somersaulting. They're both laughing; he because he thinks he's funny; and she because she knows he isn't. He's well aware of this fact so he picks her up and runs with her, for payback. She shrieks with joy, yelling for him to put her down or else, but he just laughs gleefully and runs faster. He spins her around and watches as her hair flies in the wind, getting tangled and salty from the sea spray.
He finally stops spinning and sets her down, putting his hands on her shoulders to steady her. "Am I funny now?" He asks.
She shrugs and says between giggles, "Sure."
Then he kisses her and Annie thinks that maybe this is what life would be like all the time if neither of them got involved in the Games, in the Capitol, in this bigbigmess.
She smiles at the recollection and congratulates herself on a job well done. She settles into the couch cushions before reaching into her mind again, hoping that maybe she can find another memory to get her through all of this.
Knotknotknot. Unknot. Knotknotknot. Unknot.
The monotonous work keeps him busy. Keeps his mind off of her.
The District 13 people put him in what he liked to call The Crazy Wing of the hospital. He doesn't think that he's crazy. But that's what insane people always say, right?
He wonders for a moment if this is what Annie feels like all the time. Then he shakes his head and tells himself, No, you're not allowed to think about her.
But Finnick has always been a rule breaker, and soon enough, she's all he can stand to think about.
The Capitol surprisingly treats her well. She was scared, scared out of her mind, (as if she already wasn't) when they came for her. But she went without protest. What else could she do?
But they take good care of her here. She gets three meals a day, a comfortable room. Once a day she has to go see a stern looking man who asks her a lot of questions, questions she has no answers for. Every time he asks one she just shakes her head and says, "I don't know."
Annie Cresta is a lot smarter than she seems, and she thinks that maybe if she plays up the crazy they'll leave her alone. So she does. She laughs at everything and she screams a lot and she covers her ears and sways back and forth while she hums.
They stop coming to get her for her interrogation sessions one day. She smiles proudly to herself, then screams because she knows there's a Capitol attendant standing guard outside the door, and she needs to keep up the act.
She waits for Finnick, because she knowsknowsknows that he's going to come and get her as soon as he can.
She laughs loudly and maniacally and thinks, Hurry up, Finnick.
He waits, knotting and un-knotting his rope again and again. He paces a lot, impatient and nervous. He's still angry they didn't let him go with them. But he knows he needs to trust that they're going to bring her back. Bring her back to him.
Eventually, he joins Katniss, who's sitting on the floor. She's waiting too, waiting for Peeta, and he figures that since they're in the same boat, it won't hurt to sit together. Besides, he's always liked Katniss. She's different.
They're both quiet for the most part. Once, Katniss asks him a question. "Did you love Annie right away, Finnick?"
He responds, "No." Then he's quiet for a long time as he knots his rope, before he eventually says, "She crept up on me."
Their reunion is a blur. She remembers feeling panicked, searching frantically through all of the bustling bodies clad in dull grey, pushing aside worried-looking doctors asking fretfully if she's okay, if she needs medical attention.
Then she sees him and she's running, and he's running too, and his arms are open and she's falling into them and she thinks that everything will be okay now because Finnick's here and they're together.
Everything will be alright.
He asks her to marry him.
He doesn't like the reason he's doing it and he doesn't like how he's being made to, but then he realizes that he wants to, and this might be their only chance.
So he asks her and she says yes and plans are made.
Their wedding is a traditional District 4 wedding, and Annie is beautiful and Finnick is handsome even though they're underground and in the middle of a war and a rebellion.
But they're happy, and that makes it perfect.
He leaves shortly after. He explains to her why and she cries and tells him not to, and he tells her that he doesn't want to but he must. He says it's so they can finish this war, and when he gets back they can move back to District 4 and get a house and make a life together and be one of those obnoxious families that has wayway too many children.
She smiles through her tears and nods.
On the day he leaves, she gets this sinking feeling in her stomach and realizes that she may never see him again. So she kisses him hard and whispers that she loves him and he tells her he loves her too. And then he's gone and she's crying again because it just hurts sososo much.
And she tells herself that she's worrying too much and that this is Finnick and she's Annie and everything's always turned out fine with them.
She forgets that this is war, and that the odds are (and probably always will be) ohsovery against them.
I'll run until my heart caves in, no, you haven't lost me yet.