They were all mad, weren't they? She'd seen it, and Finnick helped her understand it. None of them came out of their Games unscathed. You couldn't go through something like that, survive something like that, and not be at least a little broken and fucked up. They all had nightmares- Mags screaming in the middle of the night, Annie waking up with a knife in her hands and blood on her arms.
None of them were okay, not even in the slightest.
She leans against Finnick, as she always has in one way or another. She was a year behind him, when they'd been in school, and she and her friends had admired him and giggled when they watched him walk by. She'd wanted to be like him, remembering how she'd sold some jewelry she'd made with sea glass to try to get enough money to help him get that trident of his.
The door unlocks, and the two of them are alone. Annie takes in the room, sterile, boring, but her eyes light up when she sees the bed. Small as it is, it's got a mattress, a blanket- she lets go of Finnick to throw herself upon the bed and bury her face in the pillows. "Bed! Blanket!" A luxury she hadn't had for some time, the blanket she'd once been given in the Capitol having been long since destroyed, covered in blood, tears, other fluids.
But she turns on the bed, and reaches a hand out for Finnick. She wants him to join her, to lay with her so they can feel safe at long last. They can't hear the ocean from where they are- it's been forever since she's heard the surf crashing against the rocks and docks. But hearing his heart, feelin the rise and fall of his chest, would suffice.
Finnick laughs softly, but it's mostly a surprised sound that peters out, falls with his realization. She didn't even have a bed? Was she strapped to a table? Chained to a wall? It's-- no, he can't think about it, it makes him sick. Right now, he needs to be strong and stable for her, despite the fact that he hasn't been that way for months.
So he forces a pleasant expression and moves to take her hand and join her on his bed. He pulls the blanket up around them, pulling her hand up to his face and kissing her dainty knuckles. His body further relaxes from the complete tension of waiting, though there's still something in the pit of his stomach. Dark thoughts, words, and feelings left unsaid and unaddressed, for now. Guilt, sorrow, grief, anger. She's in no state to deal with that right now, though. She needs to adjust, and her comfort needs to come first, before his own feelings.
There had been a bed. Once. She's not sure she'll ever be able to tell Finnick all that has happened to her. But that's the last thing on her mind. All she's thinking about is Finnick. About him, about being with him and the way their bodies naturally slide together. How good it feels to have him kiss her skin.
She smiles at him, her eyes full of sorrow. She kisses his knuckles back.
They should be doing more, she thinks vaguely. Ripping their clothes off and going at it. But that wasn't the right sort of intimacy. Being close and together had always been their favorite form. And after what she's been through... Kissing is more than enough.
She feels him relax, and moves to fill in the spaces he's left. "Real." She tells them both. This was real.
He would never pressure her to tell him anything. He's aware that her recalling such terrible experiences could do her more harm than good, and besides... He's not sure he could handle hearing it, at least not now.
Her body against his feels like home. Like he's spent three months in the freezing cold and has finally sat down with a blanket by the fire, his stiff muscles easing.
He looks into her sad eyes.
"Real. I promise. I love you, Annie. I..."
A small glance away, a twitch of emotion in his brow.
"I'm so sorry..." He can't exactly put words to what he's sorry for, but his voice is full of regret and guilt nonetheless.
"Love you, too." She doesn't hesitate to say it in the least, looks back into his blue eyes. she takes his fingers, kisses them gently as he apologizes.
"Finnick, no. Don't apologize. Not your fault." None of it was. He did all that he could to keep her safe. And she'd done all she could in return for him.
Her sweet words and kisses make his brow furrow deeper, a frown forming as his hand rubs the small of her back.
"There isn't much to be proud of... I've been a mess without you, and no matter what I did, I couldn't convince them to rescue you sooner... They wrote me off as... Well, as mad. I should have been stronger..."
That's his job, always. To be the strong one, to protect Annie and Mags while they care for him in turn. He failed both of them. He's always been resourceful and cunning enough to overcome trauma and tragedy in the past, so he doesn't know why this time he just... Broke completely.
She shakes her head, taking his face in her hands gently.
"No," she tells him patiently. "Survived." And that was important. That was what you had to cling to, when the tides of your memories tried to make you hate yourself because of what it meant to be a Victor. Victors. Not Survivors.
"You're so strong, Finnick." A rare, full sentence, when she was like this.
He's always been strong. She's seen him fall apart, and put himself back together. She's been there with him to help nearly every time. That he did so well on his own without her and Mags is admirable. They took care of each other. That was how it had always worked between the three of them.
"Here now." And just like that her words are gone again. But she was here. And she would help him however she could. Even when she needed just as much help.
Survived against his will, he thinks. In spite of himself. This time, he was the one who had to be saved. But she's right, everyone needs saving sometimes.
Annie knows him well. She and Mags are the only people who truly know him, and they know him to his very core, so when she tells him he's strong, he has to believe her. Tears prick at his eyes as he realizes how hard he's being on himself. Katniss was in essentially the same situation as him, and he empathized easily with her, so that same mindset should apply to himself. Sometimes, all you can do is survive.
"You're right, sweetheart."
Finnick takes her face in his hands and kisses her forehead reverently, gently. Then he wraps his arms around her and securely pulls her in, their bodies now completely flush, his face buried in her shoulder.
"We survived. I'm so proud of you, too." She's still herself in spite of it all. They couldn't take away who she is, her humanity, nor his.
She fits perfectly into his arms, her body moving to fit against his contours. This is all she needs, to be close to him. There is no pressure to do anything else with him, other than just breath in his essence.
"We survived. Together now. Won't separate us again." It was just the two of them in their own world now, a world made of sheets and skin, an entire universe in the other's eyes.
"Finnick?" She asks after a moment of stillness. "What... where are we?" They'd told her they were taking her to District 13. But District 13 didn't exist anymore. And yet, here they were. "Doctors here"
"No, they won't." He can breathe so much more easily now, and his eyes fall closed.
"Oh, we're in District 13, love. I know we always thought it didn't exist, but it does. They were hiding underground this whole time, building their society back up. So we're deep underground, right now. They grow their own food here, make their own stuff, don't waste anything. The doctors... They're not nearly as bad as Capitol doctors, I'm sure. But I'll protect you from them anyway."
He's sure the doctors will insist on evaluating Annie psychologically and possibly medicating her, but he will advocate for her as much as he can and ask Katniss for help, if needed. Katniss has more pull, as the Mockingjay.
"Oh." She takes his words in, understands them. How strange. How brilliant, that they'd gone underground to escape the bombings during the war. That they'd rebuilt in the 75 years since. And that they were here, to hide them now during this new rebellion.
"Real?" She asks. Capitol doctors were bad. They, the scientists as well, all of them with their blue surgical gloves, their unrevealing faces and their cruelty. She didn't trust them. She didn't trust the District 13 doctors, either.
But she would need to be evaluated, especially as she'd run off with Finnick instead of staying put. She knew that. But she wouldn't go through it without Finnick at her side. Forever together, now.
She snuggles against Finnick, holding him to her chest.
He wasn't sure if merely the mention of the doctors here might set her off, but given that she seems okay with talking about it, he'll elaborate further.
"Real. They might want to talk to you, run some tests, might give you some medication to make you feel better. But I'll be there with you the whole time, and I won't let them hurt you. They won't want to hurt you, they'll want to help. They've been taking care of me lots while you've been gone, making sure I didn't do anything stupid. There's a therapist, too, and he's not very helpful, but he's totally harmless. It'll be okay."
He is sugar coating it a little. Finnick hasn't enjoyed his time with the doctors here, and he definitely is a bit traumatized by some of the things they've done to him. The restraint, the drugging. He can't guarantee that won't happen to her. But he knows it can't be anywhere near what Annie went through in the Capitol, and that they both have more control here than she ever did there.
"Tests?" Unbidden, she thinks of what they'd done to her in the Capitol. Some of them had been tests. Experiments. Just different ways to make her scream. She rubs her wrists gingerly, touches her throat, to be sure she can still breathe the air. "Medicine." The foul tasting things they'd forced her to swallow, the jabs with their needles.
But they'd taken care of Finnick here. They couldn't be so bad. "Help, not hurt," she repeats, to make sure she remembers. She can try to cooperate. She can do her very best. But Annie was so often a victim of a mind she could not control.
"Glad they kept you safe for me." She looks up at him and smiles sadly.
"Help, not hurt. It won't be like that." It's a lie, a white lie. They will jab Annie with needles if she freaks out. But if the intent is different, does that make it okay? No. Not for Annie. She'll be damaged by it all the same, just as Finnick had been. What they seem to value here is rule and order. If you're too chaotic or rebellious, no matter the reason, they'll put you in line. Not too different from the job of a Peacekeeper, just a little less deadly.
"It won't be fun. You might be scared. But you're strong. And I'll be there."
He returns her sad smile. Everything she says breaks his heart a little. Alludes to what they both went through. It all feels so bittersweet.
"Me too." Though it fucked him up, what they'd done to him here kept him alive to see Annie again, so perhaps the ends justify the means. He kisses her lips again, softly. He doesn't feel the need to have sex with her. He doesn't think she's ready for that. They can just chat until she gets sleepy.
Sex is the last thing on her mind. She'd always had a crush on Finnick, like so many others in Four. When they finally tumbled into bed together, it had been wonderful. And as she learned more about Finnick, she understood why, and did her best to be accommodating. Sex was always wonderful with him. But there was something so much more intimate about just being close to one another. Something the Capitol couldn't touch.
And she'd always enjoyed sex. It was fun, freeing, relaxing. At least, it had been.
It hadn't been for a long time, instead a weapon used to hurt and humiliate her.
She didn't know how to explain that to Finnick. She didn't want to have to explain it. She wanted to shield him from what had happened to her. When it came to sex, however, he would find out sooner or later. Annie was grateful it was later.
There was so much more to a relationship than sex, after all.
"Stay with me forever?" She asks, taking his hand again after he kisses her. "I'm stronger with you. Braver. Better with you."
Fortunately, he'll probably understand without her having to explain much. Unfortunately, it will fucking kill him to hear about it. Definitely best discussed later, when they're both more stable. Finnick is intentionally allowing her to guide the conversation, not bringing up any new information that could be upsetting unless she asks (like Mags' death, which he doesn't know if she knows about yet).
Sex with Annie had always been fun, and it had always been filled with love, compassion, and care, moreso than any other sex he ever had. Annie's bed was a safe place for him when no other beds felt that way, and he'd do anything to ensure she felt the same about him, even after trauma. Especially after trauma.
"Forever. Yes." He strokes his thumb against her fingers.
"I want to marry you, Annie. If the rebels win this war, we could start a new life, one where we're free and belong only to each other. That's what we need to look forward to."
Not owned by Snow. Not at the beck and call of Capitol citizens. Not forced into Games. If they had a kid, that kid could live free of fear, never attending a reaping in their life. It's scary to allow himself such hope. He'd been denying it, until now, but now that she's here, hope is easier. Necessary, even.
"Marry me?" She'd always wanted it. Always knew it wouldn't happen. People in the Capitol weren't even allowed to know how close she and Finnick were. They kept her to the side when cameras arrived to showcase how training was going, or how charming Finnick was. Annie was a forgotten Victor. Mad girls didn't make for great television.
She squeezes his hand.
"Finnick-" she hesitates. She wants to marry him. More than anything in the world. She's dreamed of it. She bites her lower lip. "You want to marry me?"
"Of course I do, love," he says quickly, the words spilling out of his mouth as though he's been holding them in for too long. "I have for a long time, it just wasn't worth bringing up before because it couldn't happen. But now... Maybe we actually could, at some point."
He's right. They could get married now. They can be together publicly, not some dirty secret kept hidden away because it would ruin Finnick's image and profitability.
They could get married.
They could have a family. In name. In blood.
"Finnick- oh!" She leans down and kisses the grin from his lips. "Yes! Of course! Want to- want to marry you!" She giggles, curling her toes against his calves. Married! Them!
"Annie Cresta-Odair." She liked the way it sounded. Like a wave against the beach.
Finnick kisses her back, laughing breathlessly. Her answer isn't a surprise, per se, but it is a relief and a delight. Almost unbelievable that this morning Annie was in the clutches of the Capitol, and now she's here in his arms talking about the very real possibility of marriage. What a day.
"Love the sound of that. Music to my ears." He hates hiding Annie away. She's beautiful, she's radiant, she's adorable, and he's proud of her. He's proud to be with her, and he hates having to act like he isn't.
He kisses her again, and he's so happy that for a moment he forgets he even has the capacity to feel anything else.
"If the new world is safe for children after all of this, maybe we could even..."
She fixes him with a look and says, "Finnick Cresta sounds nice, too." If he wanted to shed his entire pre-Rebellion persona and become an entirely new person. It's good that she can tease him still so easily.
Really, any name they went with, she was happy.
She meets his kiss.
"You could!" She had always wanted children, but not in the world like it was. As the child of a Victor, any child she had was sure to get reaped, pulled into the spotlight unwillingly from the moment they were conceived. Oh, to have a child with Finnick, though. Full proof of their love, right there where they could touch and feel them. There were risks, of course, Annie's mental state would surely play a large role in how such things went, but she wasn't thinking of that. She was only thinking of watching Finnick and their son or daughter play in the waves as the sun set behind them.
"Yes, Finnick. Marriage and children. A family." Tears prick at the corner of her eyes, but she cannot stop smiling.
"It does." He's not particularly attached to his name, and really, it might be a burden lifted to cut his associations with his public identity. Finnick Odair is for the rich to consume. Finnick Cresta is for her alone.
A family. A family. Not just their little group of Victors, but small humans who would take after them, who they could raise and shape all their own, without the terrible interference of the Games. It's a hope beyond hopes, a pipe dream, and yet when it makes Annie beam like that, he can't possibly deny the dream to either of them.
"A little boy... Or girl... Or both..." Finnick can't even decide what he would want more. He'd teach them to swim, to fish, they could live on the beach, live a simple life.
"Oh, Annie..." Tears fill his eyes as he squeezes her close again. These hopes are foolish and he knows it, but after the horrible few months they've had, he can't help but indulge in some joy.
"Or both!" She tells him, her toes curling in excitement. Marriage, a family, children. She'd always been good with children, helping to teach some of them to swim before her Games. Afterward, people were afraid she'd try to drown the children, or find herself lost in her own head to the detriment of the pupils. But she'd had her little brother, only six years old when he'd been killed, alongside her parents.
Turns out, mad girls didn't make for good Victors, because you couldn't control them any more than they could control themselves. They didn't understand the way others did, what would happen if they stepped out of line. So they had to be taught another way. A visit of a few peacemakers in the middle of the night, the noise of a hovercraft rising above the waves. Careful words aimed at the surviving child by a man who smelled too much like roses, even over the smell of salt.
She'd always wanted children. And to have them with Finnick?
"Happy," she repeats, the idea of happiness a far-off dream. She'd like to be happy. Happy without the backdrop of sorrow that had firmly placed there when her name had been called that fateful day.
"And you!" She tells him, "a father! You'll be so good! So kind and patient." Just like he'd been with her, with Mags, with the trainees.
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None of them were okay, not even in the slightest.
She leans against Finnick, as she always has in one way or another. She was a year behind him, when they'd been in school, and she and her friends had admired him and giggled when they watched him walk by. She'd wanted to be like him, remembering how she'd sold some jewelry she'd made with sea glass to try to get enough money to help him get that trident of his.
The door unlocks, and the two of them are alone. Annie takes in the room, sterile, boring, but her eyes light up when she sees the bed. Small as it is, it's got a mattress, a blanket- she lets go of Finnick to throw herself upon the bed and bury her face in the pillows. "Bed! Blanket!" A luxury she hadn't had for some time, the blanket she'd once been given in the Capitol having been long since destroyed, covered in blood, tears, other fluids.
But she turns on the bed, and reaches a hand out for Finnick. She wants him to join her, to lay with her so they can feel safe at long last. They can't hear the ocean from where they are- it's been forever since she's heard the surf crashing against the rocks and docks. But hearing his heart, feelin the rise and fall of his chest, would suffice.
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So he forces a pleasant expression and moves to take her hand and join her on his bed. He pulls the blanket up around them, pulling her hand up to his face and kissing her dainty knuckles. His body further relaxes from the complete tension of waiting, though there's still something in the pit of his stomach. Dark thoughts, words, and feelings left unsaid and unaddressed, for now. Guilt, sorrow, grief, anger. She's in no state to deal with that right now, though. She needs to adjust, and her comfort needs to come first, before his own feelings.
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She smiles at him, her eyes full of sorrow. She kisses his knuckles back.
They should be doing more, she thinks vaguely. Ripping their clothes off and going at it. But that wasn't the right sort of intimacy. Being close and together had always been their favorite form. And after what she's been through... Kissing is more than enough.
She feels him relax, and moves to fill in the spaces he's left. "Real." She tells them both. This was real.
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Her body against his feels like home. Like he's spent three months in the freezing cold and has finally sat down with a blanket by the fire, his stiff muscles easing.
He looks into her sad eyes.
"Real. I promise. I love you, Annie. I..."
A small glance away, a twitch of emotion in his brow.
"I'm so sorry..." He can't exactly put words to what he's sorry for, but his voice is full of regret and guilt nonetheless.
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"Finnick, no. Don't apologize. Not your fault." None of it was. He did all that he could to keep her safe. And she'd done all she could in return for him.
Even the time she gave them false information.
"Proud of you." She kisses his forehead.
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"There isn't much to be proud of... I've been a mess without you, and no matter what I did, I couldn't convince them to rescue you sooner... They wrote me off as... Well, as mad. I should have been stronger..."
That's his job, always. To be the strong one, to protect Annie and Mags while they care for him in turn. He failed both of them. He's always been resourceful and cunning enough to overcome trauma and tragedy in the past, so he doesn't know why this time he just... Broke completely.
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"No," she tells him patiently. "Survived." And that was important. That was what you had to cling to, when the tides of your memories tried to make you hate yourself because of what it meant to be a Victor. Victors. Not Survivors.
"You're so strong, Finnick." A rare, full sentence, when she was like this.
He's always been strong. She's seen him fall apart, and put himself back together. She's been there with him to help nearly every time. That he did so well on his own without her and Mags is admirable. They took care of each other. That was how it had always worked between the three of them.
"Here now." And just like that her words are gone again. But she was here. And she would help him however she could. Even when she needed just as much help.
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Annie knows him well. She and Mags are the only people who truly know him, and they know him to his very core, so when she tells him he's strong, he has to believe her. Tears prick at his eyes as he realizes how hard he's being on himself. Katniss was in essentially the same situation as him, and he empathized easily with her, so that same mindset should apply to himself. Sometimes, all you can do is survive.
"You're right, sweetheart."
Finnick takes her face in his hands and kisses her forehead reverently, gently. Then he wraps his arms around her and securely pulls her in, their bodies now completely flush, his face buried in her shoulder.
"We survived. I'm so proud of you, too." She's still herself in spite of it all. They couldn't take away who she is, her humanity, nor his.
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"We survived. Together now. Won't separate us again." It was just the two of them in their own world now, a world made of sheets and skin, an entire universe in the other's eyes.
"Finnick?" She asks after a moment of stillness. "What... where are we?" They'd told her they were taking her to District 13. But District 13 didn't exist anymore. And yet, here they were. "Doctors here"
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"Oh, we're in District 13, love. I know we always thought it didn't exist, but it does. They were hiding underground this whole time, building their society back up. So we're deep underground, right now. They grow their own food here, make their own stuff, don't waste anything. The doctors... They're not nearly as bad as Capitol doctors, I'm sure. But I'll protect you from them anyway."
He's sure the doctors will insist on evaluating Annie psychologically and possibly medicating her, but he will advocate for her as much as he can and ask Katniss for help, if needed. Katniss has more pull, as the Mockingjay.
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"Real?" She asks. Capitol doctors were bad. They, the scientists as well, all of them with their blue surgical gloves, their unrevealing faces and their cruelty. She didn't trust them. She didn't trust the District 13 doctors, either.
But she would need to be evaluated, especially as she'd run off with Finnick instead of staying put. She knew that. But she wouldn't go through it without Finnick at her side. Forever together, now.
She snuggles against Finnick, holding him to her chest.
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"Real. They might want to talk to you, run some tests, might give you some medication to make you feel better. But I'll be there with you the whole time, and I won't let them hurt you. They won't want to hurt you, they'll want to help. They've been taking care of me lots while you've been gone, making sure I didn't do anything stupid. There's a therapist, too, and he's not very helpful, but he's totally harmless. It'll be okay."
He is sugar coating it a little. Finnick hasn't enjoyed his time with the doctors here, and he definitely is a bit traumatized by some of the things they've done to him. The restraint, the drugging. He can't guarantee that won't happen to her. But he knows it can't be anywhere near what Annie went through in the Capitol, and that they both have more control here than she ever did there.
He kisses her head again. His precious girl.
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"Tests?" Unbidden, she thinks of what they'd done to her in the Capitol. Some of them had been tests. Experiments. Just different ways to make her scream. She rubs her wrists gingerly, touches her throat, to be sure she can still breathe the air. "Medicine." The foul tasting things they'd forced her to swallow, the jabs with their needles.
But they'd taken care of Finnick here. They couldn't be so bad. "Help, not hurt," she repeats, to make sure she remembers. She can try to cooperate. She can do her very best. But Annie was so often a victim of a mind she could not control.
"Glad they kept you safe for me." She looks up at him and smiles sadly.
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"It won't be fun. You might be scared. But you're strong. And I'll be there."
He returns her sad smile. Everything she says breaks his heart a little. Alludes to what they both went through. It all feels so bittersweet.
"Me too." Though it fucked him up, what they'd done to him here kept him alive to see Annie again, so perhaps the ends justify the means. He kisses her lips again, softly. He doesn't feel the need to have sex with her. He doesn't think she's ready for that. They can just chat until she gets sleepy.
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And she'd always enjoyed sex. It was fun, freeing, relaxing. At least, it had been.
It hadn't been for a long time, instead a weapon used to hurt and humiliate her.
She didn't know how to explain that to Finnick. She didn't want to have to explain it. She wanted to shield him from what had happened to her. When it came to sex, however, he would find out sooner or later. Annie was grateful it was later.
There was so much more to a relationship than sex, after all.
"Stay with me forever?" She asks, taking his hand again after he kisses her. "I'm stronger with you. Braver. Better with you."
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Sex with Annie had always been fun, and it had always been filled with love, compassion, and care, moreso than any other sex he ever had. Annie's bed was a safe place for him when no other beds felt that way, and he'd do anything to ensure she felt the same about him, even after trauma. Especially after trauma.
"Forever. Yes." He strokes his thumb against her fingers.
"I want to marry you, Annie. If the rebels win this war, we could start a new life, one where we're free and belong only to each other. That's what we need to look forward to."
Not owned by Snow. Not at the beck and call of Capitol citizens. Not forced into Games. If they had a kid, that kid could live free of fear, never attending a reaping in their life. It's scary to allow himself such hope. He'd been denying it, until now, but now that she's here, hope is easier. Necessary, even.
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She squeezes his hand.
"Finnick-" she hesitates. She wants to marry him. More than anything in the world. She's dreamed of it. She bites her lower lip. "You want to marry me?"
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A sheepish grin grows on his lips.
"Um... That is, if you'd want to."
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They could get married.
They could have a family. In name. In blood.
"Finnick- oh!" She leans down and kisses the grin from his lips. "Yes! Of course! Want to- want to marry you!" She giggles, curling her toes against his calves. Married! Them!
"Annie Cresta-Odair." She liked the way it sounded. Like a wave against the beach.
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"Love the sound of that. Music to my ears." He hates hiding Annie away. She's beautiful, she's radiant, she's adorable, and he's proud of her. He's proud to be with her, and he hates having to act like he isn't.
He kisses her again, and he's so happy that for a moment he forgets he even has the capacity to feel anything else.
"If the new world is safe for children after all of this, maybe we could even..."
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Really, any name they went with, she was happy.
She meets his kiss.
"You could!" She had always wanted children, but not in the world like it was. As the child of a Victor, any child she had was sure to get reaped, pulled into the spotlight unwillingly from the moment they were conceived. Oh, to have a child with Finnick, though. Full proof of their love, right there where they could touch and feel them. There were risks, of course, Annie's mental state would surely play a large role in how such things went, but she wasn't thinking of that. She was only thinking of watching Finnick and their son or daughter play in the waves as the sun set behind them.
"Yes, Finnick. Marriage and children. A family." Tears prick at the corner of her eyes, but she cannot stop smiling.
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"It does." He's not particularly attached to his name, and really, it might be a burden lifted to cut his associations with his public identity. Finnick Odair is for the rich to consume. Finnick Cresta is for her alone.
A family. A family. Not just their little group of Victors, but small humans who would take after them, who they could raise and shape all their own, without the terrible interference of the Games. It's a hope beyond hopes, a pipe dream, and yet when it makes Annie beam like that, he can't possibly deny the dream to either of them.
"A little boy... Or girl... Or both..." Finnick can't even decide what he would want more. He'd teach them to swim, to fish, they could live on the beach, live a simple life.
"Oh, Annie..." Tears fill his eyes as he squeezes her close again. These hopes are foolish and he knows it, but after the horrible few months they've had, he can't help but indulge in some joy.
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Turns out, mad girls didn't make for good Victors, because you couldn't control them any more than they could control themselves. They didn't understand the way others did, what would happen if they stepped out of line. So they had to be taught another way. A visit of a few peacemakers in the middle of the night, the noise of a hovercraft rising above the waves. Careful words aimed at the surviving child by a man who smelled too much like roses, even over the smell of salt.
She'd always wanted children. And to have them with Finnick?
She kisses the tip of his nose.
"Our family. No one can take it away. Just ours."
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Hope is the only thing stronger than fear.
"They can grow up without all of that fear. They can be happy."
Not traumatized, not broken, like Finnick and Annie are. But...
"I think you'll be an amazing mother, Annie. Our children will never once question whether they're loved." He kisses her lips again.
one whole-ass novel later...
"And you!" She tells him, "a father! You'll be so good! So kind and patient." Just like he'd been with her, with Mags, with the trainees.
"And they'll never have to fear. Never."