A/N - for the beautiful middy (keep my issues drawn). incorporating the prompts strings, dewdrops, a certain kind of hope and try to believe. for the hob at fire is catching. kudos to whomever finds the sherlock quote.

You said you'd never leave, Finnick Odair, but now I know you're a liar.

I'm writing this letter because we used to write all the time, Finnick, and I think we should take it up again. But you're gone now. You do know writing letters is a two-way street, right? That means you should reply, yeah? Please? For me. For Jackson.

That's right, I named our child Jackson. I don't know why. It just seemed like a perfectly innocent name, to start a perfectly innocent era.

That reminds me, Finnick, everything's changed. The Hunger Games don't exist. Only in our memories and my nightmares. I've gone back to district 4, but I don't approach the beach. It reminds me too much of you.

I still try to believe that you're still alive. I didn't see your corpse, Finnick, no one did. Maybe you survived. I'm ready for you to jump out at me and surprise and cuddle your little son. I can see that happening. It's so clear in my mind.

Remember when we used to make those nets? String, rope, metal rods, we used anything to make those. It was for us to not think about... anyway, Johanna says hi.

You get this certain kind of hope when someone dies, you think, hey, maybe things will be alright. It'll get better, in the end. All wounds heal. At least, that's what Johanna says. And there's times where she just loses it and screams about how her whole family is dead whilst I've only lost one person. I black out then. But I always fear for Jackson.

Tell me, Finn, what is it like to be dead? I've dreamed about it before, sleeping before the Games when you snuggled in, sleeping in the war; I wonder what it feels like. It would be peaceful, wouldn't it? An endless slumber, and sometimes you dream.

Finn, it's pretty early, dewdrops are falling, the only reason I got up was because of Jackson. He was crying, I think he craves a man's touch. That man is you, Finn. Please come back.

I'm tired, Finn, I haven't been sleeping. Nightmares invade my head every night, if I do go to sleep, I cry myself to sleep but I only have about ten minutes of it. Believe me, Finn, it's not your fault. Just because you didn't want to go to the Capitol to be a sex slave for one day doesn't mean that it's your fault. Believe that.

Johanna is screaming again. I better go comfort her. Yeah, she's moved in.

Finnick, you were the best man I ever knew, and I owe you so much. There.

Just, one more favour, Finnick, don't be dead.

–- Annie Odair

A/N - don't favourite/alert this without reviewing