Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cherry Pie- Warrant

American Idiot- Green Day

Boyfriend- Justin Beiber

Maria- Justin Beiber

Cameléon- GIMS

Cherry Bomb- The Runaways

Breakin' Dishes- Rihanna

Weapon of Choice- Fatboy Slim

War Pigs- Black Sabbath

Vendetta- Slipknot

Mary On A Cross- Ghost

Enter Sandman- Metallica

Brown Eyed Girl- Van Morrison

Paranoid- Black Sabbath

4 Minutes-Madonna, Justin Timberlake, Timbaland

Who's Afraid Of Little Old Me?- Taylor Swift

The Alchemy- Taylor Swift

Down Bad- Taylor Swift

Chapter Text

"And there you have it folks, this year's victor, victor of the 65th Hunger Games and youngest victor ever, Finnick Odair!" Caesar Flickerman's voice rang through the room, followed closely by the cheers of some of Cress' friends.

"Cress, look, Finnick won!" Annie Cresta exclaims, eyes bright. Annie was a constant presence in the Bronzetide household, as she was best friends with the youngest child, Junie Bronzetide. Well, her full name was Juniper, but everyone called her Junie.

"I heard," Cress responds drily, not bothering to glance up from the dishes she was washing. "Turn it down, will you?"

"Cress, stop being so sour." Jaycee Dawnlock rolls her eyes, poking her head through the door to the kitchen. "Come on, you're at least a little happy that he won, right?"

"Fine, yes, I'm a little happy he won," she mutters, averting her eyes so Jaycee wouldn't see her flushed face. Truth be told, she'd been just a bit infatuated with him since they were kids. Growing up in the same district and being in the same class for years will do that to anyone.

"Knew it," Jaycee snickers, sitting back down on the couch. Face red, Cress continues to wash the dishes.

"Cress, when's Mom gonna be home?" Junie asks.

"Later," she responds vaguely, not wanting to make any promises.

"..That's what you said last time," she mumbles under her breath, turning back to the hologram on the wall. Cress swears under her breath, muttering to herself while stealing glances at the hologram to catch a glimpse of Finnick.

-------------------------Victory Tour------------------------------

"Look, look, there he is!" Annie exclaims, pointing at the stage. Finnick walks up to the podium, waving and smiling at the crowd with his signature grin.

"Yeah, there he is," Cress mumbles dreamily, staring up at the stage.

"Wow, talk about hearts for eyes," Jaycee snickers, elbowing her.

"Ow! Bitch.." she mutters, poking her in retaliation.

"Both of you, stop," Junie hisses. "He's starting his speech!" Both Jaycee and Cress stop what they're doing and pay attention to the boy on the stage.

"Hello District 4," Finnick says, his voice projecting throughout the square. A large group of girls with signs proclaiming themselves the Finnick Fan Club squeal and scream, yelling about how much they love him.

"Hi Finnick!" "Finnick, marry me!" "Finnick, I love you!" Cress looks mildly concerned, glancing over at the gaggle of screaming girls.

"Are they okay?" she whispers to Jaycee.

"No. No they are not." Jaycee shakes her head in disappointment.

"I want to thank you all for your support of me during the Games. Dare I say, you guys are the ones who got me through it. To the family of Brooke Mildworth, I am terribly sorry for your loss. She fought well until the end and died honourably. And finally, to the special lady who's mere thought kept me going. Thank you." At his final sentence, the crowd erupts into shocked murmurs and loud cheers and screams. Finnick waves, the crowd of girls screaming in his wake as he's escorted off of the stage and to the train.

"Special girl?" Jaycee whistles, eyebrows raised. "Wonder who that is. Bet she's got a target on her back now."

"No doubt about that," Cress laughs, glancing towards where Finnick was disappearing into the train. "Lucky girl.." she adds under her breath.

"Who do you think he was talking about?" Annie asks curiously.

"Maybe someone he met in the Capitol!" Junie exclaims. "Oh I bet they had a lovely romance, don't you think Cress?"

"Yeah. Definitely." Cress blinks, shaking her head to clear it. The thought of Finnick having a special girl, however, still lingers in the back of her thoughts.

Chapter Text

"Junie, hurry up. We've got to get going," Cress knocks on her sister's door urgently. "Junie. Junie. Junie. Juniper."

"I'm up! I'm up!" Junie exclaims. "Just stop knocking, goddamn!"

"Language!" Cress snaps, turning to go back into her room. Dusting off her dark green dress for what felt like the twenty second time, she adjusted her hair in the mirror. When she sees that one strand of her hair is askew, she mutters some rather colourful words as she unties her hair and reties it. Her bronze hair has been brushed so many times that its shiny and smooth and hangs in a loose half up half down hairstyle.

"Now who's taking forever?" Junie says from the door, crossing her arms. Her sunny yellow dress contrasts with the green of her sister's.

"I'm older, I can take longer," she teases. "Come here, your pigtails are uneven." Junie lets Cress fix her pigtails, fidgeting slightly the whole time.

"Are you done yet?" she complains.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm done." Cress looks her over. "Good. Good. Okay, we can go now."

"Where's Mom?" Junie asks, looking around and peering into the kitchen.

"Work," Cress says simply. "Come on, we've gotta go." As she speaks, the alarm goes off, a loud, earsplitting sound. The sisters join the throng of people heading towards the square.

"Hey guys." Annie worms her way between them, glancing between them.

"Hi Annie," both sisters answer in sync.

"Are you guys ready for the reaping? I know I am. Do you think you'll get picked this year?" Annie continues to talk miles per minute, a sign she was nervous. They all join our respective lines, Annie and Junie heading to their line while Cress finds Jaycee.

"Hey. You ready?" she asks softly, tapping Jaycee on her shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm ready." Jaycee nods, her hands messing with the folds of her skirt. "Are you?"

"Kind of." Cress sighs. She holds out her hand, wincing when they draw her blood. She moved to the side, waiting for Jaycee. "How's Caspian?"

"Not good." Jaycee rubs her eyes, the dark circles giving away how tired she was. "He's stable, but he isn't getting better. Mom needs me home all the time now."

"Hey, you've got this. Cas will pull through, he always does." Cress grasps her hand, leading her to the side where Annie and Junie were waiting.

"Jaycee." Annie smiles, hugging the older girl's arm tightly.

"Hey Ann." Jaycee smiles, patting Annie's head.

"Ahem, ahem!" the lady from the capitol clears her throat. "Before we begin, I have a very important video to show you, brought all the way from the Capitol!"

Cress spots Jaycee rolling her eyes, as well as Junie. If she was honest, her eyes rolled a bit as well. Jaycee looks over at her, mouthing the words. "War. Terrible war." Cress has to cover her mouth to keep from snorting, struggling to keep a straight face at Jaycee's expression. Once the video ends, she breathes a sigh of relief.

"Wasn't that just thrilling?" the lady from the Capitol smiles, her eyes just a bit too wide to look normal. "I just love that. Today we are gathered here to pick the tributes for this year's Hunger Games! The 67th to be exact. Now, as always, ladies first." She practically waddles over to the large glass bowl full of names, reaching her hand in and swishing it around before grabbing one.

"Who do you think it is?" Annie whispers, eyes never leaving the small card in the lady's hand.

"Shh," Junie hisses. The lady cleared her throat and carefully opened the envelope with the name.

"Cress Bronzetide," she reads off the small card. Her heart felt like it stopped beating. Was that her name? She was Cress. But, she couldn't have been picked, right? It's not possible. The next minute is a blur as she's led to the stage, standing beside the Capitol lady. She snaps back to reality when the lady starts speaking again. "Now for the boys." Cress stares at the bowl, then out to the crowd. Jaycee looks horrified, while both Annie and Junie look nauseated.

"Ferric Amberfall." Cress glances through the crowd, recognising the name. Ferric was a year older than her, being 17, and was honestly a beast. He was tall and very muscular from working down at the docks all day, and was quite attractive. Ferric stands beside her, leaving her looking slightly out of place on the stage.

"There you have it, your District 4 tributes this year, Cress Bronzetide and Ferric Amberfall!" She's met with silence from the crowd as they stare up at both of them. Cress meets their stare, eyes trailing over the contours of their bodies. The Peacekeepers escort them to the rooms where they'll say goodbye, and the first one in is Junie. She tackle hugs her sister, practically knocking her over.

"Hey, whoa," Cress mumbles, gripping the table to keep herself from falling over. "Hey, it's okay.."

"Cress, oh my god.." Jaycee mutters, walking in with Annie in tow. As soon as Annie sees her, she bursts into loud sobs and grabs hold of her arm.

"Cress, no, don't die!" she blubbers, her tears and snot got onto Cress' dress. Cress, almost out of instinct, gently strokes her hair.

"It's gonna be okay. Everything's gonna be okay." Soon enough, the girls are forced to leave. The Peacekeepers had to pry Junie and Annie off of her so that they could escort her to the train.

"Wow." Ferric stands beside her, looking at the train with slight awe. "It's..."

"Fancy." Cress blinks, looking the train up and down.

"I was going to say sleek, but that works too." Ferric shrugs, stepping through the doors. She'd never really spoken to Ferric before, she'd never had a reason to, but options are limited now.

"Welcome." A smooth voice that Cress knew all too well spoke from behind them. "So, you guys are the crop this year huh? Ferric, how are you? And who's this little lady?" She turns around, meeting the piercing blue eyes of Finnick Odair. His eyes widen with shock for a moment before he regains his composure, charming smile back in place.

"Cress. You're.. a tribute?" he looks her up and down, causing her to awkwardly fix her hair.

"Yeah. I am. That's why I'm on the train." She mentally curses her awkwardness, her hand sliding down to pick at her hands.

"Of course." he clears his throat before turning to Ferric. "So, your luck finally ran out huh?"

"I guess it did," Ferric mutters, crossing his burly arms. "I was so close."

"Very." Finnick nods before turning back towards Cress. "Well, I'll show you guys to your rooms. Follow me, will you?"

Chapter Text

She walked in a slight daze, still not having fully processed the events of the day. Finnick Odair, the same Finnick Odair she'd gone to school with, was her mentor. He was literally her age!

"Here's your room Ferric." They stop in front of a compartment and Ferric slides the door open, revealing just how nice the room is. Cress had grown up relatively well off, not dirt poor like some people in other districts, but this was a whole new level of luxury, one that she couldn't wrap her head around.

"Wow." Cress glances around the room, checking everything out. On one wall is the name of every tribute who's ever ridden in this train, scrawled messily in marker. She scans the list until her eyes stop on the name Brooke Mildworth. "Is that the tribute who came here with you?" She points to the name.

"Yeah, Brooke." Finnick nods, staring at the name on the wall. He didn't elaborate, so she didn't push.

"So, I guess it's my room next?" Cress moves to the next compartment, sliding the door open. Her compartment is equally as nice, with the same crystal chandelier and sleek furniture. She checked her walls and sure enough one of them had the names of the tributes scrawled on it. Trailing her eyes down the list until she sees the name that she was looking for. Finnick Odair.

"So, this was your compartment?" Cress turns to him with a raised eyebrow.

"The one and only." Finnick nods, glancing at his name on the wall.

"Huh." That seems to be the only word Cress can muster as she glances around. "This train is.."

"Fancy? Obnoxious? Overbearing?" Finnick raises his eyebrow.

"All of the above," she sighs, leaning back on the bed. "Holy shoot, this is comfortable!" Cress rolls around on the bed for a moment before remembering that Finnick was still right there. She paused mid roll and sat up, clearing her throat. "Um.. Sorry about that."

"It's fine," Finnick says, a small smile on his face that he tries to hide. "I'll be in the next compartment if you need me, alright?"

"Roger that." Cress nods, and Finnick shuts the door behind him. She buries her face in the pillows, mentally cursing herself out.

"Roger that? Literally who says that?" she groans under her breath, repeatedly punching the pillows. After a minute, she settles down and just stares at the ceiling forlornly. She was a tribute. And she was probably going to die. She was going to die a stupid virgin. Probably shouldn't be what's on her mind right now, but seriously, how lame is that? She, Cress Bronzetide, was going to die a virgin.

A knock on the door startles her out of her thoughts. "Cress, dinner." Finnick's smooth voice slides through the door and into the room.

"Coming," Cress responds, sitting up. How long had she been wallowing in self pity? She checks the clock. "Two hours!?" That was a new record, even for her.

She runs her fingers through her hair before joining the others in the dining car. "Hey Cress," both Finnick and Ferric say at the same time.

"Hello," she responds, taking a seat. She grabs a few different things but mainly goes for the more familiar foods, like crab and seaweed.

"So, let's talk about the games," Ferric leans forward, munching on a crab leg. " What should we expect?"

"You have about four days of training before you go into the area. When you arrive in the Capitol, it's the Tribute Parade on the first day there," Finnick explains. "You're going to be dressed up and paraded down the street for the citizens."

"Anything we should know about that?" Ferric asks.

"Don't fuck up." Is all Finnick has to say.

"Lovely advice from Odair over here," Cress mutters.

"Aw, come on Birdie." Finnick smirks. She rolls her eyes, leaning back in her seat and practically stuffing a prawn in her mouth.

"Shut up Finn," she mutters. Ferric glances between them, but chooses not to comment.

"So, what should we do until we get there?" Ferric asks, glancing towards Cress like she has the answer. She holds her hands up in an 'I don't know' gesture.

"Well, let's talk about your skills. From what I can see, you're strong." Finnick leans forward. "I'm betting you can fight too." Ferric nods.

"You're right."

"Well I suggest we build off of that. I bet you'd be good with a decent amount of weapons, so I suggest doing lifting and maybe practicing with a variety." Finnick looks him over again. "And remember to not gorge yourselves over the next few days, or you'll be fucked in the arena." Both Cress and Ferric nod, taking what he said to heart and not eating too much from the spread of food in front of them.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Cress searches through the drawer for what feels like the bajillionth time as she looks for a shirt to sleep in. All she can find is the fancy Capitol nightgowns that feel like sandpaper and smell so artificial that it makes her want to vomit.

"Okay, either borrow Finnick's shirt, or ask Ferric for one of his," she mumbles to herself, closing her door quietly behind her.

"Hey, Finnick?" Cress knocks on his door. She hears quick movements and the door opens rapidly.

"Yeah?" he asks, leaning in the doorframe.

"Do you maybe have an extra shirt I could borrow? I was going to ask Ferric but-" she starts but he cuts her off.

"Yeah, I do." he says, rifling through his drawers and handing her one.

"Oh my god, you're the best. Thanks Finn." Cress smiles, disappearing back into her room with a wave. Finnick watches the door close for a moment before shutting his own door.

Back in her room, she changes quickly into the shirt. Cress smells the faint scent of his cologne and salt water and her eyes close. It smells like District 4. It smells like home. Small moments with Jaycee, Junie, and Annie flash through her mind as she thinks about home. She clutches the chain around her neck that has a sand dollar attached to it, given to her anonymously a while ago.

Cress Bronzetide is a tribute in the 67th Hunger Games, representing District 4.

Cress Bronzetide is probably going to die.

Cress Bronzetide wants to go home.

Chapter Text

"Welcome to the Capitol." Both Cress and Ferric stared out the windows of the train with wonder plain on their faces. as they passed through the dam that separated the Capitol from the rest of the world. Opulent buildings made of glass and steel blinded them, and the loud cheers of the citizens rang in the busy streets as they passed.

"Who are they cheering for?" Ferric asks, putting his hand on the window and causing the women in the crowd to yelling louder. Before Finnick can respond, Cress chimes in almost in a daze.

"Us. They're cheering for us." She glances towards the two men beside her. "The tributes." She looks back out the window, picking her way through the throngs of people trying to get a glimpse of both her and Ferric. "Are the other trains arriving at the same time as us?"

"Sorry sweetheart, but that's classified." Finnick winks, causing Cress to roll her eyes and hide a smile. "Just kidding. I actually don't know."

"Damn," Ferric mutters before continuing to wave at the crowd. He even makes a muscle for them, causing the girls to squeal excitedly.

"Quit showing off." Cress rolls her eyes at his flexing. "It's weird."

"What, you jealous Bronzetide?" he smirks, flexing his biceps again.

"Gross, Amberfall, gross." Cress rolls her eyes, ignorant of Finnick's stare that jumps between the two tributes.

"Alright, wrap it up." Finnick claps his hands, motioning for both of them to move down to the exit area. "We're almost here." Both Cress and Ferric follow Finnick to where they disembark from the train, observing the throng of people waiting for their arrival in the station.

"Um, how are we getting through that crowd?" Cress asks, eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"Finnick?" Ferric asks, looking at their mentor expectantly.

"You'll see," Finnick says, grinning. A few moments later, the crowd parts and Peacekeepers come through to guide them.

"Oh, I see." Cress nods as the doors slide open. Finnick leads both of them through with Peacekeepers at their sides. Cress glances around the station, people are yelling her name, trying to reach her through the Peacekeepers.

"Wow," Ferric whispers, waving to the crowd with a big grin on his face. "This is.."

"Incredibly claustrophobic," Cress mutters, unconsciously grabbing onto Finnick's arm to keep herself from getting swallowed up by the crowd. "No comments Odair."

"I would never, Birdie." Finnick winks, guiding her through the crowd. Ferric grasps her other hand, both men leading her into the building where the crowd was locked out. Finnick notices Ferric gripping her other hand and tightens his own grip slightly on her wrist. Cress lets out a sigh of relief as soon as she's inside the building.

"Well, that was hell," she mutters, stretching and cracking various joints in her body.

"What do you mean, that was awesome!" Ferric exclaims, face lit up with a half smirk. "Did you see the way they were cheering, they love us!"

"Yeah." Cress glances towards Finnick, then back at Ferric. "So, what now?"

"Now it's time for primping and preparing," Finnick says, and two groups, three people per group, come towards us.

"Hello, hello dears, we're your stylists! My name is Cerise Wellbrand, and I am your stylist!" the lady, Cerise, smiles at Ferric. She starts yapping a million miles an hour to Ferric, who listened intently.

"I'm Sorrel, your stylist," the man quietly introduces himself to Cress, shaking her hand. "This is Tazzel, and that is Saffrin." Sorrel points to the two people accompanying him. Tazzel had bright blue hair and pure white eyes, while Saffrin had ebony skin and pink irises. Tazzel waves excitedly, his blue curls bouncing with the movement, while Saffrin just nods her head in acknowledgement.

"Hi, I'm Cress, it's nice to meet you both," she says, smiling. Sorrel didn't have as much outlandish makeup as the other two, but his skin was a pale purple that honestly freaked her out a bit.

"Well, no time to waste, let's get you ready," Tazzel exclaims, grabbing her hand and leading her down the hall. She glances back at Finnick with a worried gaze, but Finnick nods reassuringly, motioning for her to keep going. Sorrel and Saffrin bring up the rear, where Cress finally notices the similarities between them. Siblings then, she concludes. They turn the corner and Finnick disappears from view. 'Ah, here we are, room 45!" Tazzel putters off to prepare some things for the detox deepclean.

"Sorry about Taz, he's just very excited," Saffrin says, her first words since Cress had met her. "It's his first year as an official stylist, so he's trying to do it all." Cress nods, watching Tazzel explain various products to her. She listened attentively and asked questions, something that made the blue haired stylist very happy.

"Now now Taz, let's start. We have to have her ready for tonight and we're down to only 5 hours left," Sorrel says, his voice deep and calm. Tazzel takes a deep breath, nodding.

"You're right, sorry Sorrel. I just got so excited, you know? Oh this is amazing, you're going to look so stunning!" Tazzel claps his hands together excitedly. "We're going to be the talk of the Capitol!"

"Again, Taz, please," Saffrin giggles, her first real show of emotion. This makes Cress smile a little, the corners of her mouth turning up.

"Sorry!" he squeaks before helping Cress into the bath. "Relax Cress, you're in good hands. Me and Saffrin are the best of the best."

"I'll hold you to that," Cress teases gently, leaning back and letting Tazzel and Cress do their work. At some point, she falls asleep as they're deep cleaning her hair.

"Rise and shine, Cress," Sorrel's voice startles her from her sleep, causing her to jerk awake. She glances around, dazed, before realizing she's in the styling rooms. They must have moved her while she slept.

"Oh shoot, did I fall asleep?" she mumbles, rubbing her eyes.

"Yeah, but don't worry about it. You wouldn't be the first. So, I have your outfit all laid out for you over there if you'd like to check it out." Sorrel smiles, gesturing to a mannequin in the corner. She walks over and looks the outfit up and down. It was a long flowy dress, with a bodice made up of pearls and seashells. The fabric of the dress was a creamy white to pale teal ombre that matched the shells beautifully. On the head of the mannequin was a small crown inlaid with various pearls and made of delicate fish bones.

"It's beautiful," Cress says softly, brushing her fingers over the fabric of the dress. It was smooth and soft, like silk. "What's it made of?"

"It's a special silk and satin blend that was recently popularized by Finnick Odair's former stylist," Sorrel explains. "Let's put it on and see if we need to make adjustments.

Very carefully, and with the help of Tazzel, Saffrin, and Sorrel, Cress gets the dress on as well as the crown. Saffrin hands her a pair of strappy heels that have little pearls sewn into the straps, which she puts on. She does a small twirl, letting them see the whole outfit in all its glory.

"So, thoughts?" Cress asks, running her hands over the bodice gently.

"Oh, you look lovely!" Tazzel exclaims, clapping his hands.

"It suits you. Brings out your eyes," Saffrin says, her voice less monotone than usual.

"It's perfect," Sorrel concludes. "Alright, time for a few adjustments and then you're good to go."

"Adjustments?" Cress turns to him with her eyebrow raised. "What kinds of adjustments?"

--------------------------------------------------------------

"Wow. You look... amazing, Cress." Ferric smiles at her, holding out his hand. Ferric was dressed in a similar design, except his was a suit. The shoulder pads were the same as Cress' bodice, encrusted with pearls and seashells, and he too sported a crown of pearl and fishbones.

"You aren't so bad yourself Ferric," she laughs. Her laughter dies down when she glances around at the other Tributes, who are all dressed to represent their district. The tributes from District 1 were dressed in elaborate outfits that looked like they cost a fortune, while the tributes from District 2 looked like warriors from the Golden Age, dressed in golden armour and adorned with a laurel wreath on each of their heads.

"Stiff competition huh?" Ferric whispers to her, analyzing all the tributes. "We clearly look the best, however."

"You're right, for once," Cress teases, the corner of her mouth turning up in a small grin.

"Tributes," They're interrupted by a metallic voice over the system. "Please board your chariots. The parade with begin in t-minus two minutes."

"Shit," Ferric helps her up onto the chariot then climbs on himself, gripping the side tightly. Cress looks nauseated, slightly green in the face. "Hey, relax. We're gonna do great." She gives him a weak smile.

The doors open and the chariots start moving. She winces slightly when the light hits her eyes, but quickly adjusts. The cheers from the crowd are loud and almost earth shaking, Caesar Flickerman's voice being heard all throughout the area.

"And look at that folks, the tributes from District 4! They make quite the pair, don't they Claudius? Just look at those two, Cress and Ferric was it?" Caesar says, his voice too animated for Cress' liking.

"Yes they do Caesar, they look fantastic! Just look at the details on those outfits, their stylists have truly given it their all!" Claudius Templesmith responds, his voice equally as annoying except more nasally. Cress glances around and notices her face on one of the banners. The sight almost makes her jump. That couldn't be her, she looked so... weird. She's shocked out of her thoughts by the feeling of Ferric's hand grabbing hers.

"What are you doing?" she whispers, almost tugging her hand back.

"Just trust me," he responds, gripping her hand tightly. He lifted their hands up, fingers intertwined for all to see. The crowd explodes into cheers, yelling their names and chanting. While there was a lot of cheers for Cress, most were directed at Ferric.

"Oh my, look at that! Could your suspicion be correct Caesar, that seems like young love to me!" Claudius exclaims.

"Don't you just love that Claudius, oh it just makes my heart sing!" Caesar says, laughing. He sounded very... she couldn't find the word for it but it was not good.

"Ferric, was that really a good idea?" she asks, voice low.

"Are you kidding, they loved it!" he whispers in return, continuing to wave at the crowd and flashing his smirk. Cress followed, waving and smiling, but she wasn't smiling on the inside. In fact, she rather felt like throwing up.

Chapter Text

The chariots stop in front of the presidential mansion, both Cress and Ferric looking up towards where President Snow has started to speak.

"Welcome, everyone, to the 67th Hunger Games." Snow announces, causing the crowds to cheer loudly. "Here we have this year's tributes, two from each district. I wish you all the best of luck, for this is the ultimate test of wit, strength, and skill." He drones on for a while, but Cress pretty much tunes him out and focuses on the tributes around her. From District 7, the female is quite burly and seems hardened by the world, while the male is young, maybe 13, and had an air of innocence. District 10 had twins, one likely volunteered so they wouldn't have to leave the other to die alone. District 3 had two scrawny ones, but if she'd learned anything from watching the games it's to not base your judgement on looks. Anyone can be deadly in the right situation.

"May the odds be ever in your favour." Snow wraps up his speech, his tone almost mocking in the way he says 'ever' so callously.

"Dick," Cress mutters under her breath, causing Ferric to snort.

"My my, I didn't know the little lady could curse," he laughs.

"The little lady can do more than curse." Cress adjusts her hair, fixing the beachy waves she was given by Tazzel. Oh, she misses the beach so much.

"Look at you, you're spicy today. What did they do to you in the dressing room?" Ferric asks, smirking. Before she can respond, the chariot starts moving again. She stumbles at the sudden movement, leading Ferric to grabbing her waist to keep her from falling over completely. "Whoa there, you alright?"

"Yeah, fine. Just tired," she mumbles, standing upright again. They disembark from the chariot and Finnick walks over to them.

"That was good." he nods, looking over the both of them. His eyes linger on Cress for just a moment before returning to Ferric. "Nice move, grabbing her hand."

"Told you so," Ferric says pointedly, grinning at Cress.

"Shut up." she rolls her eyes, turning away to talk to Sorrel. Finnick watches her saunter away for a brief second before returning to his conversation with Ferric.

"You looked so amazing, the crowd fell in love with you for sure!" Tazzel exclaims, gripping her hand excitedly. "Oh, you are just going to be the talk of the Capitol! You and your romance with McSteamy over there, meow!" Cress' cheeks go red, the colour rising quickly.

"Romance? What?" she sputters, glancing at Finnick.

"Oh yes, you and Ferric will simply be on everyone's mind!" he claims. Cress blinks, realizing he'd meant Ferric, not Finnick. Wait, why had she just assumed it was Finnick? Of course it made more sense for it to be Ferric, what was she thinking?

"Oh, um, yeah. Definitely," she says halfheartedly. Sorrel decides to interject, cutting off Tazzel.

"I think we should let her get some rest, she's had a big day after all," Sorrel reasons, motioning for her to make her escape while Tazzel was distracted. Saffrin escorts her to where Finnick and Ferric are waiting.

"See you soon Cress," she says softly before hurrying back to Sorrel and Tazzel.

"Your stylist is.. hyper," Ferric remarks as they all get into the car to be taken to the apartments.

"Who, Tazzel? No, he's just excited. This is his first time as an official stylist." Cress glances out the window, watching the world zoom by. Why had she jumped to defend Tazzel like that? It wasn't like she'd even known him for long, she'd met him today! Pushing that thought aside, she steps out of the car when it arrives at the apartments.

"Follow me," Finnick says, leading them to the elevator. As the doors are closing, another person walks in. It's the Tribute from District 5, the female. Cress couldn't put a name to a face at all, but thankfully Ferric came to the rescue.

"Ebony, hello." Ferric smiles, making space for her in the elevator. Cress was now squished between Finnick and Ferric, with Ebony on Ferric's right side.

"Hello, uh, Ferric, right?" she smiles. "And you must be Cress."

"That's me," she nods, holding out her hand to shake. Ebony instead presses their fingertips together, which confuses Cress for a moment before she puts her hand down.

"And you're Finnick Odair," Ebony glances at Finnick, cheeks reddening slightly.

"Indeed I am. Lovely to meet you, Ebony." Finnick flashes a charming smile, causing Ebony to blush. The elevator dings, signaling that they've arrived.

"Well, it was nice meeting you Ebony." Cress says, squeezing out from between the Finnick-Cress-Ferric sandwich that had been created in the elevator. "See you tomorrow." Ferric and Finnick follow Cress' lead, telling the other tribute goodbye and wishing her well.

"Bye Cress, bye Ferric, bye Finnick," She says that last part with a slightly dreamy voice as the elevator doors close.

"Well that was something," Cress snickers. "She was looking at you with heart eyes." She pokes Finnick's shoulder, grinning playfully.

"Shut up Birdie. Follow me, I'll show you around," Finnick sighs, opening the door. He shows them their rooms and the common areas, as well as where his room was located in case they ever needed him. He was glancing at Cress while he said that, but she's quite oblivious and didn't even notice.

"Wow.." she fiddles around with the remote that changes the window, changing it to one of the beaches in District 4. She stares at it for a while, reminiscing of her home. It had only been a few days, but it had felt like forever. She hadn't seen Junie, Annie, Jaycee, nobody from home, and was in a completely new place that was honestly alien to her.

"Cress?" Ferric was standing at her door.

"Yeah?" she sits up, wiping at her eyes to get rid of any stray tears.

"There's food here, if you're hungry," he says softly.

"Oh, alright. Um, I'll be down soon." Cress nods. Ferric seems to hesitate to leave, instead choosing to sit beside her on the bed.

"Do you.. miss it too?" he asks, staring at the fake beach.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do." she nods, blinking back tears. Ferric puts an arm around her shoulders, giving her a small but comforting hug. It was awkward, and felt weird, but Ferric was from home, and Cress was really missing home right now. She hugs him back, eyes squeezed tight. "Thank you, Ferric."

"Of course," he smiles softly, not the confident smirk but a sweet smile. She gives him a half smile in return and follows him to the kitchen, where Finnick is already eating.

"So kind of you both to join me," Finnick says, the undercurrent of sarcasm evident in his voice.

"I know, I'm just too generous," Cress sighs, pretending to swoon. "Honestly, it's a gift and a curse."

"Shut up Cress," Finnick rolls his eyes but is unable to fully hide his smile.

"So, what's on the schedule for tomorrow?" Ferric asks, leaning forward in his seat as he rips into a turkey leg, or what Cress presumes is a turkey leg.

"Group training," Finnick makes a face at the words. "All I can recommend is that you don't show off the full extent of your skills. However, if someone is looking at you like you're an easy pick, show off a little."

"Gotcha, gotcha." Ferric nods wisely. "So, basically only show off if provoked?"

"Bingo." Finnick nods.

"Alright geniuses, can one of you pass me the salt and stop being so depressing? Seriously, all this talk of training is ruining my appetite," Cress groans. Both men reach for the salt, but Finnick grabs it first and hands it to her. "Thank you Finn."

"No problem Cress," he says softly, staring at her for a moment before returning to his plate.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Cress walks down the hall, trying to be as quiet as humanly possible. It was still early, as in still dark outside, but she couldn't sleep. Instead, she was going to shower. That would relax her, or that's what she was telling herself. Since it was so early, she didn't think anyone else would be up. She was dressed in a fluffy robe she'd found in the closet along with the matching slippers, and was armed with a towel to dry off with.

She opened the door quietly but almost screamed when she made eye contact with Finnick.

A Finnick who was undressed, presumably fresh out of the shower, and only wearing a towel that was low slung around his hips.

A Finnick who's abs she could see.

She quickly shut the door and raced back to her room, burying her face in the pillows. Her mind was racing with the image of a shirtless Finnick, the water dripping down his abs, his hair wet and mussed, and (most importantly in her opinion) his happy trail.

She was officially going nuts if she was thinking about his stupid happy trail. Kicking her legs into the bed, she silently screamed into her pillow. Cress was sure her face was neon red right now, and was also pretty sure she wouldn't be able to look Finnick in the eye for a while. She glanced down at herself and noticed that her robe had opened slightly, now sporting a deep v-neck. Had it gotten messed up when she jumped onto the bed?

Had it been messed up when she turned and ran?

Had it always been messed up and she hadn't noticed and had accidentally almost flashed Finnick?

"Fuck," she mutters, repeatedly smushing her face into the pillows. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck."

Chapter Text

Cress doesn't look across the table, because who's sitting across the table? Finnick, the same Finnick that she saw practically nude that morning. No, she has still not recovered from that.

"What's up with you, you look like you've seen a ghost," Ferric asks, poking her shoulder.

"What? Nothing," Cress answers quickly before stuffing another bite of toast in her mouth. Ferric raises his eyebrow but doesn't say anything.

"After breakfast, I'll take you down to the training rooms." Finnick doesn't make eye contact with Cress, avoiding even looking at her. Ferric glances between them, but doesn't comment.

"Alright then," he mutters, starting to eat his yogurt parfait.

"Can I have some?" Cress asks, leaning over to get a glimpse of his parfait.

"Sure." Ferric scoops some up and hands it to her.

"Thanks Ferric." she smiles, eating it. "Holy shoot, this is amazing. Where did you get this?"

"I ordered it. Yeah, my stylist explained the room service button to me, it's pretty awesome." Ferric grins.

"Would you care to explain it to me after training?" Cress asks, stealing another bite of his parfait.

"Of course, I'd be happy too," he says, smiling.

"If you're both ready, we should head down to the training rooms." Finnick interjects, causing both Ferric and Cress to look at him. Cress and him make eye contact, which has them both remembering their encounter this morning. Cress breaks it first, looking away while the colour rises to her cheeks. Finnick himself is flushing slightly, cheeks now tinted slightly pink.

"I'm ready, how about you Cress?" Ferric glances towards her, and she just nods in response.

"Then follow me." Finnick guides them through the sprawling halls and they exit in a massive room, filled with weapons and training equipment.

"Whoa," Cress says, glancing around the room in awe. "This is.. intense."

"Hella awesome!" Ferric grins, immediately running to the rack of spearguns.

"Yeah, I'm not touching those," Cress mutters, walking over to the bars and flipping around a few times.

"Still got the skills I see." Finnick smiles, leaning against the bars and watching her.

"Of course. What do you think I've been doing for the past two years? I've got to make money somehow, you know?" she rolls her eyes, settling down on the ground again. Ferric had been watching her practice and had zoned out slightly.

"You and the circus have been doing well then?" Finnick asks.

"Yeah, but I haven't been performing for a while. Just a backup for now." she shrugs.

"Wait, what? But you're an amazing trapeze artist!" Finnick looks like he wants to protest her being the backup performer.

"I requested to be backup so I could spend more time at home, since Mom works so much. Junie gets lonely." she goes back to practicing, creating a makeshift catch bar to swing on. When various tributes look up, they can see her practically flying around the ceiling.

"Wow," Ferric mumbles, coming to stand beside Finnick while watching her swing around. "She's awesome. I've seen her at the circus a few times, but only from far away. It's kind of surreal to see it up close."

"It's incredible, isn't it?" Finnick has a small smile on his face as he watches her.

"Hey, what's the deal between you two?" Ferric asks. "You've both been weird all morning."

"..Long story," Finnick mumbles. "It's not important anyway. Anyway, why aren't you training, Amberfall? Get back to it!"

"My bad, my bad," Ferric laughs. "Bye Finn."

"Don't call me that." Finnick makes a face, not a fan of nicknames. "Get back to training Ferric."

"Will do." he nods, walking back over to the speargun he'd been practicing with. Finnick continues to watch Cress, that soft smile never fully leaving his face.

"Finn, check it out!" she shouts, waving to get his attention. When she's sure that he's looking at her, she free falls for a moment and practically gives him a heart attack before gripping onto the catch bar. She does a few tricks before landing elegantly in front of him. "Ta da."

"Ta da indeed, holy shit," he mutters, putting his hand over his racing heart. "Jesus, Cress, you practically gave me a heart attack."

"Scared you a little huh? Come on, have a little confidence in me, alright?" she smiles. "I got this."

"You got this." Finnick says that mostly to reassure himself at this point. "Alright, back to training. Maybe don't spend the whole time flipping around and try something else, yeah?"

"Fine, you're right," Cress sighs, heading off to practice with the knives. She'd had some practice with them, growing up filleting fish and removing delicate bones, so she was half decent with them.

"Atta girl," he says quietly, watching her head off to practice.

--------------------------------------------------------------

"So, how was training today?" Sorrel smiles, motioning for Cress to lift her arm so he can measure it.

"Pretty fun, actually. Ferric showed me how to throw a knife, which was pretty cool. He also tried to teach me the speargun, but I was kind of bad at it," she says, shrugging. "I also made a makeshift trapeze, so that was nice. I miss the circus, and District 4. Sorry, I'm kind of rambling now."

"Don't worry about it, I've been told I'm a good listener." Sorrel continues to take her measurements. "I had Saffrin draw up some design ideas for your next outfit, which is the interview outfit. Which do you like best?"

Saffrin and Tazzel come into the room, showing their ideas for her outfit. "See, I just don't think they're sparkly enough." Tazzel sighs, shaking his head. "I mean, I proposed more sequins but both Sorrel and Saffrin said no!"

Cress mouths a quick 'thank you' to both Sorrel and Saffrin, who nod in understanding. Even the seemingly stoic Saffrin cracks a small smile.

"So, which do you like best?" Sorrel asks.

"I like them all, but I really like the deep blue one." Cress points to the midnight blue dress design, the bodice one again encrusted with small pearls as well as the ends, creating a sort of gradient. It was paired with starfish earrings, with pearls of course, and matching heels.

"That's what I was thinking!" Tazzel exclaims, eyebrows up so high Cress was afraid they would get stuck.

"Then that's your dress. Thank you for your input Cress." Sorrel and Tazzel walk off to begin working on it while Saffrin stays behind.

"So, Cress, what's the deal with you and Odair?" she asks quietly, a small smirk playing on her face.

"What? Nothing!" Cress' face flushes red, feeling like finding a very deep hole and staying there forever.

"Doesn't seem like nothing to me," Saffrin teases.

"Fine, I have a thing for him, but it's nothing really. He could have literally any girl he wanted, and I'm pretty damn sure it's not some trapeze artist. Besides, in his speech on the victory tour he said something about a special girl." Cress shrugs, picking at her nails. "It's just a silly crush anyway."

"Maybe so." Saffrin and Cress sit in comfortable silence as Saffrin cleans her up. "All done."

"Thanks Saffrin." Cress stands up, adjusting her shirt. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Goodbye Cress."

Chapter Text

"Alright, it's time for individual assessments. Each of you is going to show off your skills to the Gamemakers. My advice? Make an impression." Finnick sits down on the couch, manspreading. No, Cress was definitely not admiring him, not at all.

Just a little bit.

"So, what do you recommend?" Ferric leans forward in his seat, raising his eyebrow.

"Well, you're strong and can wield a speargun. Do that. Show off whatever you can that makes you look desirable and worth sponsoring." Finnick shrugs.

"Helpful." Cress rips into her piece of chicken. "Any more amazing advice from the wise Finnick Odair?"

"Don't fuck up." Finnick doesn't crack a smile, showing he's serious. She gulps, swallowing her food.

"Lovely," she whispers, eyebrows furrowed. "Lovely, lovely, lovely."

"Relax Cress, it's gonna be fine," Finnick's voice goes to a softer tone and he gently takes her hand, squeezing it. "You're gonna do great, I promise."

"Alright, let's go. Come on Cress." Ferric holds out his hand for her to take. "We want to get there early."

"Why so early?" Finnick asks, tilting his head to the side.

"Better than being late." Ferric shrugs.

"He has a point," Cress sighs, standing up. Finnick's grip on her hand momentarily tightens before he lets her go.

"Good luck," Finnick says softly, watching them leave. Cress glances back at him one last time before the door shuts, leaving her and Ferric alone.

"Are you ready?" she asks Ferric.

"Ready as I'll ever be, I guess," he mumbles, standing to the side to let her onto the elevator first.

"I mean, what should I show them?" she mumbles, picking at her skin.

"Your trapeze skills, definitely. It's unique and will get their attention," Ferric responds practically right away.

"Yeah.. yeah, you're right. Thanks Ferric." Cress smiles at him, a rather weak half smile but still a smile.

"You're gonna wow them, I would bet on it." Ferric smiles at her as the elevator does open, the other tributes turning to look at them.

"Seems our idea to show up early was a popular one," she mumbles, sitting down quietly.

"Apparently," he gives her a side smile, waiting beside her.

"Cliff Brightforge, District 1, please enter for your assessment." The metallic voice that had been used during the Tribute Parade rang through the room. A dark skinned boy, Cliff apparently, walked into the door, which buzzed as it opened.

The room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop, none of the tributes talking. The girl from District 1, Velora Farbrook, was called next. Then the tributes from 2. Then 3. Then Ferric was called.

"Good luck," Cress whispers, watching Ferric walk away. He gives her a reassuring nod and the doors shut behind him.

Without Ferric, she feels very alone. And watched. After what felt like forever, her name was called.

"Cress Bronzetide, District 4, please enter for your assessment." She stands up and walks in quickly, sighing when the door shuts behind her.

"Um, hi," she mumbles awkwardly. "Cress Bronzetide, District 4." She glances around the room, noticing the hacked apart dummy and discarded speargun. She spends a minute putting together the trapeze and catch bar, but manages it.

"..What on earth is that girl doing?" she hears one of the Gamemakers whisper.

"Give her a moment," another hisses. She finishes her makeshift trapeze and climbs up on top of the bars. Taking a deep breath, she jumps off and catches the bar, doing a flip and then hanging by her legs. She goes through her routine from the circus, the movements ingrained into her muscles. She falls into the familiar rhythm, the actions comforting her. The rush of catching the bar, the feeling of her hands against the smooth metal, the callouses that are sure to form soon, it all relieves her stress from the past few days.

She dismounts, breathless and fairly sure her cheeks are red from all the flips. She bows and, to her surprise, the Gamemakers clap for her. A few are even standing up, a sort of standing ovation. Unsure if she should say anything else, she awkwardly shuffles out the door and into the hall where the other tributes are. Spotting Ferric, she makes her way over to him.

"How did yours go?" she whispers, leaning in close to talk.

"Good, they seemed to think my speargun was original." Ferric looks proud of himself, the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. "How about yours?"

"By the end, they were clapping." Cress herself was smiling, quite widely in fact.

"Look at you, good job." Ferric pats her shoulder, smiling softly.

"Now we gotta wait for the scores. What do you think they got?" Cress motions to the Careers from District's 1 and 2.

"Cliff has about a.. 9. Velora, an 8. I think both people from District 2 have 9." Cress nods in agreement, thinking his deductions were pretty accurate.

"What about the others?" she asks.

"Low scores for most. Ebony probably has an 8, though I can't explain why I think that. The girl from 7 has a high score for sure. Did you see the size of her arms?" Ferric raises his eyebrows.

"Like tree trunks." Cress nods.

"She's got a good shot of winning too." Ferric and Cress continue to quietly discuss the other tributes as more flood into the room, having finished their private assessments.

"You are all free to go." A lady from the Capitol, presumably one of the Gamemakers, announces once all the tributes have finished. Ferric and Cress immediately head back to their apartment, where Finnick was waiting for them.

"How'd it go?" he asks as soon as he sees the pair, his eyes more focused on Cress than Ferric.

"Well." Ferric nods. "They seemed to like me."

"They got up and clapped after mine," Cress says, causing Finnick to smile widely.

"That's good. That's very good actually. They liked you both, that's promising." He leans back in his seat, fiddling with a remote. "Sit down, they'll be airing the scores soon."

"How soon? Like, soon enough that I can't shower soon or like an hour soon?" Cress asks, glancing down the hall towards the bathroom.

"You should have enough time for a quick shower. Probably." Finnick nods.

"Lovely. See you guys in about fifteen to thirty minutes. Don't hold me to that though." Cress walks off down the hall and gets ready to shower. She overhears snippets of conversation between the two guys, but doesn't pay much attention. Once she's finished her shower, she comes back outside and sits down with Finnick and Ferric.

"Almost time now." Ferric looks anxious, wringing his fingers. Almost immediately after he finishes speaking, the broadcast turns on.

"Hello everyone, I'm Caesar Flickerman with Tribute Scores from this years 24 chosen ones. Let's start off with District 1. First up, Cliff Brightforge with a score of 9." Caesar starts his chatter while Cress and Ferric give each other looks.

"He's good," Cress mutters as Flickerman continues to speak.

"Also from District 1, Velora Farbrook with a score of 8."

"We were right about her," Ferric says, eyes glued to the screen.

"From District 2, Morrel Pitwillow with a score of 8 and Chrysa Wildsnow with a score of 7."

"Weak Careers this year huh?" Finnick remarks. "Only two 9's out of the whole pack. Interesting."

"District 3 gives us Link Clearsong with a score of 9 and Livia Fairthorne with a score of 6."

"9 for a District 3 tribute? Interesting," Cress' eyebrows are furrowed together as she awaits her score.

"From District 4, Ferric Amberfall with a score of 10." Ferric whoops loudly when his score is announced, high fiving Finnick excitedly.

"Fuck yeah baby!" he cheers.

"Also from District 4, Cress Bronzetide with a score of 10." Cress' jaw drops to the floor. She'd been expecting a 7 or an 8 , not a fucking 10. Both Finnick and Ferric turn to her with shocked expressions on their faces. Finnick's quickly melts into happiness as he scoops her into a hug.

"Holy shit Cress, a 10! That's amazing!" he exclaims.

"Yeah, it is," she says, still in a daze. She, Cress Bronzetide, got a 10.

A 10.

"Damn Cress, I'm gonna need to know what the hell you did to get a 10," Ferric laughs.

"You got a 10 too Ferric, what do you mean?" Cress rolls her eyes. "Finnick, put me down."

"Yes ma'am." He sets her down on the ground gently. "Wow. A 10. That's incredible Cress, really."

"I wasn't expecting that." Cress picks at the skin on her hands. "I'm going to be targeted for my score now. Shit."

"Hey, look, don't worry about that right now. You got a 10, not them. That means you're better." Finnick rubs her shoulder gently.

"No, that means I'm a threat, and we all know what the Careers do to threats." Cress glances at Ferric, who finishes for her.

"They eliminate them."

Chapter Text

"Today is the day everyone, interviews with Flickerman himself," Finnick announces as he takes a seat at the table.

"Are you ready?" Ferric glances over at Cress, crossing his arms.

"No," she mutters. "It's happening no matter what, so no point in worrying about it."

"You both have meetings with your stylists that will last for what feels like forever." Finnick leans forward, the muscles in arms flexing slightly when he does. "I'll drop in at some points to check in on you guys." He glances at Cress when he says that.

"Noted." Ferric nods. "So, no training today?"

"Just an hour ish." Finnick nods. "Which starts in about twenty minutes, so up and at em."

"Thanks Finn." Cress rolls her eyes, following Ferric out the door. When the door shuts behind them, Ferric turns to her with a confused look on his face.

"Finnick told me he hates nicknames. He made a face when I called him Finn, but he didn't say jackshit when you called him Finn. Why's that?" Ferric asks.

"I don't know, ask Finnick," she mutters, cheeks flushing red. They get to the training area, and Ebony runs up to them.

"Did you hear? The girl from 6 broke her leg!" Ebony exclaims. "She totally can't move right now! They're trying to fix it up in time for the Games, but they don't know if she'll be fully healed."

"Shoot, really?" Cress raises her eyebrows, eyes wide.

"What happened?" Ferric asks, a note of worry in his voice.

"She was antagonising the girl from 7, who body slammed her into the weight rack. The rack fell right into her leg and it just snapped," Ebony whispers.

"Gross," Cress gags, her nose wrinkled in disgust.

"Oh god, is she going to be okay?" Ferric asks.

"Oh definitely, she's just in a rough spot right now." Ebony nods.

"Well on that delightful note, I need to train." Cress wanders away towards the knives, practicing her aim with them. Finnick watches from above, where the other mentors are.

"She's getting quite good with those," the mentor for the District 3 tributes comments. "But she doesn't hold a candle to Ferric." Finnick's eye twitches slightly at the implication that Cress was inferior to anyone.

"She can handle herself." Finnick can barely contain the irritation leaking into his voice. "Cress is a fighter."

"She won't be able to handle herself against the stronger tributes, just saying. My tributes are quite accomplished."

"Both of your tributes have scored lower than Cress, I don't think she's scared of them in any way." Finnick doesn't bother hiding his irritation now, eyebrows furrowed slightly in frustration. The mentor looks miffed and storms away, whispering with a different mentor. "Yeah, that's right," he mutters.

--------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh, you're going to look so good Cress!" Tazzel exclaims, clapping his hands together. "I was up all last night working on your earrings, you're going to be such a stunner!"

"Arms up," Sorrel says quietly.

"How did that go?" Cress asks Tazzel, holding her arms up.

"Oh they're just so gorgeous!" Tazzel holds up the earrings, showing her proudly.

"They are indeed." Cress smiles.

"Alright Cress, this will be just a bit tight." That's the only warning Cress gets before Saffrin zips up the dress, practically strangling her. She stares at herself in the mirror, admiring the dress. It's a beautiful midnight blue colour, and looks just like the picture that she was shown.

"Holy shit," she wheezes, gripping the table in front of her. "That's tight."

"Sorry," Sorrel says, covering up a laugh.

"Wow, Cress cursing. Now I have truly seen it all." Cress whirls around to see Finnick standing at the door, watching her.

"Ha ha, real funny," she mutters.

His eyes trace over her form in the dress, lingering on the bodice. "You look good Cress. Real good. Blue is your colour."

"I usually prefer green." Cress shrugs, smoothing her skirt slightly.

"That's a close second." The corner's of Finnick's mouth raise into a small smirk.

"Thanks, I think." Cress twirls slightly, the dress moving smoothly with her. Finnick struggles to tear his eyes away from her, watching her twirl.

"She looks beautiful hm?" Sorrel says softly. "Cress is truly a beauty. She has that face structure."

"Huh? Oh, um, yeah I guess," Finnick mumbles.

"Now then, out out." Tazzel shoos Finnick out of the room. "We have lots to do! You'll see her later, now out!"

"I'm going, I'm going." Finnick rolls his eyes, letting the short man push him out of the room. He looks back at Cress one last time before the door closes.

"Time for makeup!" Tazzel exclaims, turning back towards her.

"...Oh boy."

-----------------------------------------------------------------

"Welcome everyone, to the 67th Hunger Games! Ha ha!" Caesar yells, his voice carrying out to where Cress was waiting with Ferric. He looked good, dressed in a matching blue tux that was also encrusted with pearls.

"Are you ready?" Ferric whispers.

"...Kind of." Cress shrugs, wringing her fingers. The makeup that she had on matched her dress, the deep blue eyeshadow accompanied by a sparkly lip look and long lashes. Her hair was styled to frame her face, the dark waves hanging loosely. "How about you?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." Ferric had no visible makeup on, but he did have some foundation and concealer for the stage lights.

"Please welcome, all the way from District 1, Cliff Brightforge!" The audience bursts into applause, loud cheers echoing as he walks onto the stage with Flickerman. "Welcome Cliff, how are you doing?"

"I'm great Caesar, I am great." Cliff smiles confidently.

"That's wonderful to hear! So, I've been dying to know, are you nervous at all for the Games? From what I can tell, you seem very ready, isn't that right folks? Ha ha ha!" Flickerman does his obnoxious laughter that grates on Cress' already frayed nerves.

"Well Caesar, I am indeed ready, deadly, and pretty sure I've got what it takes to win." Cliff smirks, angling his face towards the crowd.

"I love that!" Flickerman practically yells, causing Cress to wrinkle her nose and her brows to furrow. "Such confidence!" The interviews keep rolling until it's finally Cress' turn.

"Good luck Cress, you've got this," Ferric says softly as she stands up.

"Thanks Ferric," she whispers.

"Now then folks, the district you've all been waiting for! All the way from District 4, here to be with you all, is Cress Bronzetide!" Caesar shouts and Cress walks out, waving at the crowd. The bright lights momentarily blind her but she quickly adjusts. "Welcome Cress! Now, can I just say, I love your outfits! That dress you wore for the tribute parade truly blew me away!"

"Why thank you Caesar, but I can't take any of the credit for it. That belongs to my wonderful stylists, Sorrel, Saffrin, and Tazzel. They truly put in the work to make these outfits a possibility." Cress smiles and the audience cheers.

"Oh, so humble! I love it!" Flickerman turns back towards her. "Now, I think we're all curious about this. Is there a special man back home Cress?"

"What? No, not currently." The lie rolls off her tongue as she glances into the audience.

"Now now Cress, let's be honest. You're a beautiful girl, you must have someone that has captured your heart! Do you believe her folks?" Flickerman turns towards the crowd, who start cheering for Cress to tell them.

"Alright, alright, you got me," she laughs. "Yes, yes, there is someone."

"Aha! I knew it! Did you know it as well folks?" The crowd claps, yelling about how they knew there was someone, and how they knew Cress was lying. "Any hints for the audience Cress?"

"Just one." She leans forward, as if whispering to Caesar. "He came here with me." The audience erupts into cheers, believing she was talking about Ferric. She glances into the audience, locking eyes with Finnick. His eyes are cold, mouth set in a thin line.

"Oh my goodness folks, we have a love story on our hands!" Flickerman turns to her with big smile. "Well now, thank you for your time Cress. Once again, you look absolutely lovely."

"Aw, thanks Caesar, but I do believe I'm a bit too young for you," she teases, causing him to laugh his obnoxious laugh.

"So cheeky! I love it! Cress Bronzetide everyone!" The audience cheers and claps, some even standing for her. She waves as she walks off the stage, disappearing behind the curtains. She hears Flickerman announcing Ferric's name, and starts to watch his interview.

"Ferric, welcome. You seem to have captured the hearts of many of us here in the Capitol, as well as some in your own district." Flickerman says.

"What can I say, it's a gift." Ferric shrugs, causing Flickerman to laugh.

"My my, someone's confident!"

"Now Caesar, I have a very important question." Ferric leans forward. "Is this shirt flattering or should I change?"

"Oh my, well I think it's plenty flattering. Some of the ladies seem to want you to take it off however." Caesar glances towards the crowd, where the ladies were rooting for him to take his shirt off.

"Ah, well, they have to pay extra for that." Ferric glances towards the crowd, winking and making a call me gesture.

My turn for a question now. Do tell, is there a special lady? I bet there is. Does it happen to be a certain lovely girl who was just here?" Caesar leans forward, staring at Ferric intently.

"Yes, there is." The audience takes his words by storm.

"Well, don't leave us in suspense Ferric, let's hear it!" Flickerman scoots forward, staring intently. "Is she perhaps a lovely girl who was just sitting upon that very chair?"

"She does, infact, happen to be a certain lovely girl who was just here." This causes the audience to descend into chaos, yelling and screaming taking over as they chant Cress and Ferric's names.

"Oh my, oh my, oh my!" Flickerman claps. "This is terribly exciting folks! This is totally unheard of! Ah, young love. Well Ferric, best of luck in the games."

"Thanks Caesar." Ferric waves to the crowd, standing up.

"Ferric Amberfall everyone!" Flickerman announces as he walks off the stage, cheers following him.

Chapter Text

She stared out the window in the living room, unable to sleep. It's the night before the Games and Cress is kind of a mess.

"Cress? Why the hell are you still awake?" Finnick says from behind her. She turns and sees him standing there, shirtless, with his arms crossed.

"Why the hell aren't you wearing a shirt?" she raises her eyebrow.

"I don't sleep with shirts on." The way he says that like it's common knowledge irritates her.

"Good for you," she mutters. "What do you want Finn?"

"You." She blinks. Did she hear that right? She's hallucinating.

"What?" she glances up at him.

"I didn't say anything." he holds his hands up.

"Right, right," she mumbles. "Anyway, what do you want?"

"To know if you were serious about your feelings for Ferric." Finnick's stare feels like it's piercing into her soul.

"Who said I was talking about Ferric?" she raises her eyebrow. "Goodnight." Before Finnick can formulate a response, or even process what she'd just said, she had turned and was half way back to her room. Once he'd realized what she'd said, her door was shut and probably locked.

He stared at her closed door for a solid minute and a half, realizing what she had just said.

And how he could never say anything if he wanted to keep her alive.

Finnick Odair would do many things to keep Cress Bronzetide alive, even if he hadn't realized it yet.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh Cress, I'm going to miss you so much!" Tazzel sobs, throwing himself at her. "Please Cress, you just have to win!"

"I'll try Tazzel, I promise," she says softly, letting Tazzel cry into her outfit.

"Tazzel! You're getting your tears all over her outfit." Sorrel shoos him away, handing him a box of tissues. "Now Cress, be prepared for anything in the arena. It is unclear what the arena will look like this year, so you must be ready."

"I will be." she nods.

"Now, from what I've heard, you're quite skilled with a trapeze, yes?" Sorrel asks.

"Um, yeah, I've been in the circus since I was about thirteen. Why?" she tilts her head.

"With the way you performed in the individual assessments, I'll bet my left arm that the arena will be suited towards your skills. The Capitol rigs the arena for who they want to win, so I'll bet it'll be in District 4's favour this year." Sorrel has a point. Finnick's arena had been a beachy scene that was clearly in his favour, which was demonstrated when he won.

"Oh I bet it'll have trees." Saffrin chimes in. "Things that you can flip between." Cress nods.

"Alright, it's time for Cress and I to go. Say your goodbyes." Sorrel stands up and Cress follows.

"Bye Cress, it's been lovely to be your stylist." Saffrin gives her a tight hug, ruffling her hair. "Best of luck in the games."

"Thanks Saffrin." Cress smiles.

"Oh Cress, I'm going to miss you so so so so so so much!" Tazzel wails, throwing himself at her and practically knocking her over. "You just have to win, oh you just have to!"

"Tazzel, can't breathe," she wheezes, the wind being knocked out of her when he had crashed into her. "But I'm going to miss you too." Tazzel climbs off of her, sniffling and wiping his eyes.

"Cress, do me a favour and wash your hair as often as you can." Tazzel says, gripping her hands. "It's too lovely to be ruined."

"I'll try Taz," she says. "Bye Saffrin, bye Tazzel. Cheer for me, will you?"

"Always." Saffrin and Tazzel wave her off as she follows Sorrel out of the room.

They walk all the way down to a sort of loading dock, the other tributes there as well. The giant ship was waiting for them there, and the other tributes were eyeing up both Cress and Ferric.

"Please find a seat. Please find a seat." The metallic voice repeats over the radio over and over again until every single person is sitting down. "Thank you for your cooperation. You will now be given a tracker so that we are aware of your whereabouts at all times during the Games. Please do not resist the injection."

Cress holds out her arm, the Peacekeeper injecting her with the tracker. She winces at the feeling. The airship takes them to a new building, where they get dropped off with their stylists.

"Now Cress, here's your outfit of sorts for the games. It's a waterproof jacket and the matching pants, a thin shirt, and I'm pretty sure there's also a hat somewhere," Sorrel explains, helping her put it all on. "Now I want you to watch you back in the arena. These people are desperate to survive and will be running on pure adrenaline and fear. You must think logically or you will die."

"Gee, way to cheer me up Sorrel," Cress mutters.

"Apologies," he laughs. "I didn't mean to worry you. You've got this. Just use your head, alright?"

"Alright." she nods.

"Please enter the tube and prepare for launch." that same metallic voice echoes over the speakers in the room and Cress steps inside. The glass closes around her, locking her in and sealing her fate.

"Good luck." Sorrel mouths, winking at her. She smiles and then the tube starts to rise.

Let the Games begin.

Chapter Text

The platform rises up and the sudden light momentarily blinds Cress. She glances around at her surroundings, noting the tall trees and winding paths between them. The trees are tightly packed, with barely any space between them. A sort of maze? A labyrinth maybe?

She doesn't freaking know at this point. The other tributes look just as confused as Cress, but they all have the desperation in their eyes, a desperation that makes them deadly.

"One minute." The timer on the cornucopia starts counting down. She glances over at Ferric, who nods.

"Fifty, forty nine, forty eight, forty seven.." That damn voice is counting down and grating on her nerves. Cress glances up towards the sky, wondering if Finnick could see her right now.

"Thirty six, thirty five, thirty four..."

"Cress!" Ferric shouts her name, diverting her attention. She glances towards him and notices that he's motioning towards something. She looks towards the cornucopia and sees the catch bar waiting for her along with the ropes. She also sees the knives and the speargun.

"Go for it." she nods at him, mouthing the words. He nods in recognition and focuses back on the cornucopia.

"Twenty two, twenty one, twenty, nineteen.." One of the tributes, one from District 5, stumbles and falls off the pedestal. A loud boom resonates as he's immediately blown to bits. She winces when she hears the sound, doing her best to not look at the hole where the former tribute had been that was now just tiny chunks of flesh.

"Ten, nine, eight.."

She refocuses on the cornucopia, focusing on the backpacks filled with supplies. Ferric would get the weapons, she would get the supplies. Win win situation in her opinion.

"Five, four, three, two, one. Let the 67th Hunger Games begin." The buzzer goes off and everyone starts running. Ferric and Cress meet up at the cornucopia, grabbing the things they said they would. The cannon goes off several times, the Careers claiming about 5 kills. They stop when they reach Ferric and Cress.

"Allies?" Cliff asks, holding out his hand. Cress glances at Ferric, who shakes his head.

"No, thanks," she responds, shaking her head. Velora's eyes narrow, her grip tightening around the dagger she was carrying.

"No problem." Cliff nods. "Kill you later then."

"Kill you later." Ferric and Cress run off into a part of the twisting maze, down the narrow path between the trees.

"What the hell is this arena?" Ferric mutters, glancing around.

"Ferric, can you climb?" Cress asks.

"Uh, maybe?" his eyebrows furrow. An axe whizzes by Cress' side and embeds itself in the tree beside her. Ferric's eyes narrow as he turns to see the District 7 girl who'd just thrown an axe at them. He loads up his speargun and fires, nailing her in the arm. She rips it out and runs away before he can shoot her again.

"Cress, oh my god, are you okay?" he asks, looking back over at her. She nods, ripping the axe out of the tree and hiding it in a bush. "What are you doing?"

"Hiding it so other people can't use it." she shrugs. "Now come on." She grabs the knives from her belt and digs them into the bark of the tree, pulling herself up. She climbs up until she reaches the branches and sheathes the knives. "What are you waiting for Ferric, come on."

Ferric uses his knives and follows her up the tree, going a little slower than she had. He eventually makes it up and sits down beside her. "How the hell did you climb up here so fast?" he asks, wheezing slightly.

"I have a lot of upper body strength?" she shrugs. "Trapeze is a lot of upper body strength since you're hanging onto a bar for dear life."

"I see." Ferric nods wisely. Cress motions for him to be quiet as the group of Careers walk by.

"Come on, they went this way." Velora says, tugging Cliff along. The two from District 2, Morrel and Chrysa, were following them and whispering to themselves.

"Why are we hunting them again?" Morrel asks, rolling his eyes.

"Cause they scored better than all of us and that makes them a threat," Cliff snaps. "We need to get rid of both of them." Ferric aims his speargun at them but Cress shakes her head.

"Not now," she whispers to him.

"But isn't Ferric the only real threat?" Chrysa asks. "I mean, Cress just doesn't seem all that strong."

"She's strong. She got a ten for a reason Chrysa. Plus, she's smart. She's the brains of the operation, and Ferric's the brawn. And if we want to win, they have to go." Velora frowns. "Don't underestimate either of them."

Their voices fade as they head off into the distance, down the path through the maze.

"Lovely," Cress mutters once they're out of earshot. "We need to get as far as possible from here."

"Shouldn't we go after them?" Ferric frowns. "We can get them all right off the bat."

"What the hell, no way!" she exclaims. "That's a suicide mission! They outnumber us, two to one, and they're still very deadly. Just cause we have better scores doesn't mean they won't gut us like fish."

"Noted," he mumbles. "What should we do then?"

"Find somewhere to sleep. Preferably somewhere sheltered. Come on, we gotta get down now." She climbed down and waited for Ferric to join her at the base of the tree. "Jeez, you're either really slow or I'm just really fast."

"Shut up." he groans, following her through the maze. They walk past the cornucopia and into a different entrance of the maze, on the lookout for other tributes.

"Ferric, do you hear that?" she whispers.

"Yeah, I do." he nods, glancing around. It was a low rumbling sound that echoed all around the arena. Suddenly the ground starts shaking and then, somehow, the trees start moving.

The maze was shifting.

"Ferric!" she shouts as the trees separate them.

"Cress! Cress, are you okay?" he shouts.

"I'm fine, are you?" she responds.

"Cut my leg but I'm pretty good for the most part! Shit, you have all the supplies!" Ferric shouts.

"You're right. Hold on, I'm coming over." Cress climbs up the trees and looks down on the opposite side for Ferric. She sees him about a meter away from where she was perched and about 10 feet down. "Ferric, up here!"

"Cress! Hey!" he smiles widely. "Come on down, will ya?" She hurriedly climbs down the trees to where he was waiting, landing hard on her left leg.

"Ow." she mutters. "I'm fine, don't worry about it."

"I heard them yelling, this way!" she hears Cliff shouting from far away.

"Shit, we gotta go." Cress grabs Ferric's arm, dragging him down the path in a sprint.

"Dammit." Ferric glances behind them as Cress tugs him along.

"In here!" she shoves him into a space between the roots of a tree, covering his mouth with her hand. "Stay quiet, got it?" Ferric nods, unable to speak due to the hand over his mouth. About fifteen minutes later, the Careers thunder past, their footsteps heavy and loud.

"They must have gone this way." Velora points in a different direction and they all take off.

Stupid Careers.

Chapter Text

"What now?" Ferric asks softly, poking his head out of the hole. Cress digs through the bag and finds a spile.

"Thirsty?" she asks, shoving the spile into the tree. She digs the empty bottle out of the bag and fills it up, taking a sip before handing it to Ferric.

"Thanks." he takes a sip and glances around. "This arena is weird huh?"

"Its gotta be a maze of some kind, that seems to move right? That's weird." Cress looks at the ground, squinting. She doesn't see anything but roots and dirt, so she glances back up.

"A moving labyrinth. Awesome," Ferric mutters. "Just what I wanted to hear."

"Alright, let's settle here for the night and keep moving tomorrow." Cress starts building a tiny fire while Ferric goes out to find food. He comes back about twenty minutes later with a small rabbit.

"How's this?" he asks.

"Damn, when'd you learn how to hunt?" Cress takes off the skin and fur with her knife.

"It's not that hard actually, spearguns basically do the work for you. What else do you have in your bag?" Ferric leans forward curiously.

"A blanket and what I think is a tarp." she holds it open so he can see. "Useful enough."

"That's not too bad actually." Ferric drinks more of the water before refilling it with the spile. "Damn this thing is useful."

"Surprisingly," Cress mutters. "Help me cook this thing will you?" They cook the rabbit to the best of their skills, which in Ferric's case was not exceptional.

"Is it supposed to be this charred?" he asks, holding up his piece of rabbit.

"You cooked it like that." Cress shrugs, putting out the fire with dirt. She eats her piece of rabbit, which honestly was pretty good.

"I'll take first watch." Ferric settles in a spot where he could see beyond the roots of the tree and on the path.

"Thanks," she mumbles, already lying down on the tarp. She put the blanket overtop of herself and almost immediately fell asleep.

"Cress! Cress, wake up!" Cress jolts awake to Ferric looking terrified.

"What, what's wrong?" she mumbles, sitting up.

"There's someone coming." he glances down the path.

"Get under the blanket." she hisses, peering into the dark as she tried to spot who was coming. He crawls under the blanket with her and they both hide.

"Come out, come out wherever you are." a creepy voice, male, resonates along the path and through the trees. "I can smell you."

"Is that the tribute from 10?" she whispers and Ferric nods.

"I saw his twin in the sky, he's probably gone nuts," Ferric whispers.

"Shit, you're right," she mutters.

"I can smell you! You smell like fish, don't you? District 4? I'm gonna get you!"

"What the fuck..." Ferric grabs his speargun and aims it at the tribute.

"Hit him in the chest, don't prolong his misery," Cress whispers.

"I hear you! I hear y-" Before he can even finish speaking, Ferric shoots him clean through the chest. Cress winces at the wet thump and then the sound of his body falling to the ground, limp. Ferric immediately runs and grabs the harpoon from the dead tribute's chest.

"Give me that." Cress digs the harpoon into the dirt and wipes it off carefully. "Hope this guy didn't have any weird diseases."

"Me too now that you mention it." Ferric looks green in the face so she hands him the bottle of water.

"Go to bed Ferric, I'll keep watch."

"You sure?" he mumbles, glancing at her.

"I'm sure."

"Thanks Cress." he gives her a half smile before huddling under the blanket and falling asleep.

Cress watches the stars, which are probably fake as well as hard to see, and tries to find the constellations, which are probably in the wrong spot, and watches the sky change colours as morning arrives, or rather watches the shadows get darker as the moon vanishes and the sun rises.

"Ferric, wake up." she shakes his shoulder. "Rise and shine, it's morning. Time to get a move on."

"Five more minutes," he mumbles, turning over to lie away from the opening that had the sunlight streaming in. Well, not sunlight. The trees blocked out all of the possible sun, making it very shady and gloomy.

"No more minutes, up and at em. Or I'll bust out the circus routine."

"And I'm up." Ferric splashes some water on his face before they remove the spile from the tree and put it back in Cress' bag. They pack up the other supplies and head out. Cress has her knives of course and Ferric has his speargun.

"Where too boss?" Ferric asks.

"I have honestly no idea." she glances around. "Let's just try to explore and get an idea of the terrain, yeah?"

"Sounds good to me." Ferric shrugs. They walk around the maze for a while, and eventually find a large beach, still surrounded by trees, with a small lake in the center.

"Oh my god, finally," Cress mutters, glancing around for people. "Shit, Ferric, get down." They duck behind the tree trunks and peek out towards the lake.

"What is it?" he asks softly.

"Careers."

"Shit."

"Shit indeed, if they find us we're fucked," Cress mutters.

"In the ass kind of fucked."

"Description not needed." she glances at the Careers. "What should we do?"

"I think we can take 'em." Ferric shrugs.

"Why did I ask you?" she mutters. "We're leaving, come on. We'll kill them off later, if they don't get us first."

"Hey now, let's be positive. We're gonna survive." Ferric's nose wrinkles at Cress' negativity.

"Sure, definitely." Cress grabs his arm and drags him back into the maze. The cannon goes off as she prepares to climb another tree and set up her trapeze there. "Shit. Who do you think that was?"

"No idea." Ferric shrugs. Cress looks away for a moment, sticking her knife into the bark of the tree and preparing to climb up when she hears Ferric's grunt of pain. She turns back to see the guy from 11 looking half mad and Ferric with a knife buried in his shoulder.

"Ferric, shit!" she quickly draws her own knives and launches one at the guy, hitting his chest, and then another that hit his throat.

She'd just killed someone, but she couldn't think about that right now. Ferric was hurt and she wasn't sure she would survive the Games without his help.

"Cress, help," he mumbles, sitting down at the base of the tree. She rips her knife out of the tree and sits down beside him, gripping his arm.

As if the Gamemakers were trying to torture them, the ground rumbles and the trees start shifting once more.

"Not now," Ferric groans, the knife still in his shoulder.

"Stay still, you're gonna be fine." Cress holds his hand and thankfully they don't get separated as the trees shift.

Now they were lost.

Again.

"Fuck."

Chapter Text

"Well, this isn't good." Cress was not having a good day. Ferric was stabbed, the Careers were nearby, and she'd just killed someone. "Alright, Ferric, stay calm."

"Gee, thanks for the advice." Ferric hisses through his teeth as she quickly rips out the knife. "Ow! Fuck!"

"Sorry, sorry," she mumbles, quickly tearing a piece of the tarp and using her knife to cut a piece of the blanket she'd been given. She first wraps his shoulder in the blanket then seals it with the tarp. "God, that was not good."

"Your knives, where are they?" Ferric mutters, glancing up at her with glazed over eyes.

"They're- Fuck." Cress whirls around and sees the wall of trees that separates her from the dead tribute. "Still in the body. Ferric, don't move."

"Wasn't planning on it." he leans back against the tree, speargun propped up and ready to fire if someone passes by. "Me and my harpoon are ready."

"Harpoon? I thought it was a speargun?" she raises her eyebrow and he laughs before wincing.

"No, spearguns only work in the water. This is a harpoon," Ferric explains.

"Oh. Well now I feel stupid," Cress sighs before climbing up the tree and over, looking for the body.

"Cress? Jesus, Cress!" Ferric hisses. "The fuck are you doing?"

"Getting my knives, obviously. Now sh, you're going to attract attention." Cress looks around from her perch in the trees and jumps down, landing near the body. "I'm sorry." She closes the boy's eyes, letting him rest. She quickly rips out her knives and wipes them off on the leaves before a metallic whirring distracts her. She looks up and sees a ship from the Capitol lowering a big claw scoop, towards where the body was.

"Cress, hurry up." Ferric sounds anxious but she's too distracted by the large airship. It scoops up the body and retreats back into the belly of the airship as it starts flying away.

"Did you see that?" she asks, climbing back down the other side where Ferric was waiting.

"See what?" he asks, raising his eyebrow.

"..Nevermind. How's your shoulder?" she asks.

"Bleeding less now." he nods.

"Good. That's good. Okay, we'd better get a move on." Cress glances around. "How much mobility do you have in your shoulder?" Ferric tries to rotate it but stops about a quarter of the way up, wincing.

"Not a lot," he sighs, lowering his arm.

"Alright, no climbing for you then. Come on Ferric, let's go." she starts walking down the path, knife in hand and watching for threats while Ferric lags behind. He insists that he's covering the rear, but he's really just letting Cress do all the work.

"Cress, when do we get a break," he groans, leaning against a tree. "My arm is killing me."

"We get a break when we get to a relatively safe area. Which is not here." Cress moves further ahead before stopping at a gap in the trees. "You gotta see this Ferric."

"What is it?" Ferric moves to where she's standing and he doesn't look very impressed. Cress, on the other hand, is practically jumping for joy.

"It's a cave. Ferric, we found a cave!" she whisper yells excitedly. "Oh, this is amazing!"

"Cress, it's a cave." Ferric looks at her like she's gone crazy, which isn't a stretch at this point.

"Yeah, it's a cave! In a forest!" When he doesn't look as elated at her, she sighs. "You don't seem to see what I see, so forget about it. Just get in the damn cave."

"Whatever you say." he crawls into the cave. "Wow. Dude, this cave is huge!"

"Really?" Cress crawls in after him and her jaw drops. "Whoa." The cave isn't really a cave, it's more of a cavern. It's dark, but the glowworms light it up slightly.

"It's.." Ferric starts and Cress finishes for him.

"Beautiful." Her lips curl into a wide smile as she looks around. "Look at that."

"You think the Capitol can see us?" Ferric tilts his head and looks around.

"Definitely." Cress nods. "They have cameras everywhere, remember?"

"You're right. Now, I'm gonna sit down before I fall over." Ferric stumbles over to rock while Cress sets up the tarp and blanket.

"Lie down and take a nap." Cress puts his arm around her shoulders and helps him over to the blanket, laying him down. "Nice and easy, there you go."

"Thanks Cress," Ferric mumbles, eyes already closing as he falls asleep. She drapes the blanket on top of him before crawling out of the cave. She blinks at the brighter light outside, her eyes quickly adjusting. She double checked her pack, verifying that she had her catch bar, and then checked her pockets for her knives. Once she was sure they were all there, she kept going.

Cress wasn't a hunter like Ferric, but she'd find something to eat. She could fish, but she doesn't know where the lake is after the trees had shifted. She wandered around, building little rock statues to lead her back to the cave. After wandering for about fifteen minutes. she spots a rabbit. She quietly pulls out a knife and launches it, closing her eyes. She reopens them to see that she hadn't hit the bunny in the head, but in the leg. She quickly walks over and puts the bunny out of its misery.

"I'm sorry," she whispers to the now dead rabbit, quickly running back to the cave. She followed her little rock structures and crawled back in.

"Cress, you're back!" Ferric smiles, sitting up. "I woke up and you were gone, I was worried."

"Sorry Ferric, I was getting food." she holds up the rabbit.

"Rabbit again?" he makes a face.

"Oh, I'm sorry, do you want to go hunt?" she rolls her eyes. "Shut up and eat the rabbit."

"It's raw." Ferric raises his eyebrow.

"...Right. Give me a minute." Cress crawls back out of the cave and climbs up the trees, cutting off a few branches with her knives before heading back to the cave. "Okay, wood achieved."

"Good." Ferric nods. Cress starts a fire and cooks the rabbit, handing Ferric his half. As soon as he bites into it, his eyes light up.

"God, this is so much better than when I made it." Ferric practically devours his piece of rabbit. "You're the designated cook from now on, holy crap on a cracker."

"Damn," she mutters. "I only made it for you because you got stabbed, don't get used to it."

"Aw," he frowns. "No fair."

"You sound like a toddler." she raises her eyebrows at him.

"Shut up." he rolls his eyes. He glances back over at her. "Hey, I have a question."

"Fire away," she says, taking her last bite of rabbit.

"How come Finnick calls you Birdie?" he asks and she almost chokes on her food.

"What?" she asks, coughing.

"Why does he call you Birdie. You know, when we were on the train, he was referring to you as Birdie," makes it sound like she doesn't understand his question.

"He calls me Birdie cause at thirteen, I would 'fly' around the playground on the bars," she mutters, cheeks red. "Trapeze artist, you know?"

"I feel like you're hiding something else." Ferric leans forward, eyes squinted suspiciously. "Don't go holding out on me now."

"Never in a million years." she shakes her head. "The only way you'll ever find out is if you're dying."

"I hate you," he sighs, leaning back and muttering to himself about the injustice.

"I can hear you Ferric." Cress rolls her eyes.

"I know."

--------------------------------------------------

Finnick watched the screen that displayed Ferric and Cress as Flickerman started to talk.

"Look at that Claudius, she's taking care of him! Isn't that just so sweet?" Flickerman gushes. "And look at those eyes of Ferric's, he's enamoured!"

"I believe you're right Caesar, he's a sucker for sure." Claudius nods.

"God, doesn't it just make you sick?" Haymitch mutters from Finnick's left. "Seriously."

"Doesn't what make me sick?" Finnick asks, raising his eyebrow. The sight of Cress with another man? Yeah, that made him feel pretty damn sick. The fact that she was in the arena, where he couldn't be there with her? Sick.

"Seeing your girl with another man." Haymitch raises his eyebrows.

"My girl? Cress isn't-" Finnick starts but Haymitch cuts him off.

"Well then you'd better quit acting like she is. You've been sulking around for days, and people are starting to notice." Haymitch tips his glass towards him. "So if you want to keep her alive, you'll cut the crap and fake it."

"Thanks Haymitch," Finnick mutters. "I'm going to bed."

"Night lover boy," Haymitch turns back to the TV, taking another sip of his drink.

Finnick stared at the ceiling, thinking of Cress. He hadn't seen her since he'd been reaped, so seeing her on that train was.. startling to say the least. He was pretty sure his heart had stopped the moment she turned around. She looked different than he remembered, her hair was longer and her face was more angular, but she was still Cress.

And now that Cress was in the arena, fighting for her life.

"Shit."

Chapter Text

"Ferric, how's your shoulder feeling?" Cress kneels down beside him. It's been a few days and Ferric seems to have gotten worse.

"Definitely infected," Ferric mumbles. She puts the bottle of water to his lips, letting him drink.

"Fer, we need something to actually help you. My makeshift wrap thing isn't gonna cut it," she sighs, leaning back.

"You called me Fer." Ferric smiles when he hears that. "That's the first time you've ever called me Fer." This makes her crack a smile. Ferric was pleased by even the smallest of things. It was endearing, in her opinion.

"Alright, don't let it get to your head." she rolls her eyes. "You sir need to sleep. Now."

"Yes ma'am." Ferric falls asleep soon after, leaving Cress to her own devices. Not much had happened in the past few days. It had mostly been her taking care of Ferric, hunting, taking care of Ferric, exploring, waiting in the cave when the trees started moving, and taking care of Ferric. And a few run ins with the Career pack. But she'd escaped most times pretty easily. For as much as the Careers could wield swords, they couldn't climb trees for shit.

She left them in the dust every time, much to their annoyance. Today was a nice day for the arena. She had a guess that the sun was shining, but she couldn't tell.

"Should I?" she whispers to herself, looking up the branches of the tree. She shouldn't. But she's going to anyway, cause she hasn't seen the sky in days and it's driving her nuts. She grips the branch, climbing. Once she gets about twenty feet up, she starts jumping from branch to branch, a wide smile on her face.

She settles on a singular tree, climbing up to the very top. Once the sunlight hits her face, she lets out a relieved sigh. "Holy shit that feels good." She looks out over the arena, seeing the maze in all its glory.

It was huge. The trees must have spanned over 6 kilometers in every direction, her eyes widening as she takes it all in. She can see the lake from here, the glittering water about a kilometer away. If she glances to the left, she can see the large space where the cornucopia was. It was about 3 kilometers away, if her judgement was right.

She soaks in the sun for another moment before climbing back down to the ground, jumping the last few feet. She runs back to the cave and makes it in just as the ground starts rumbling. The trees shift everyday, in the same hour, at some point in the afternoon. She has no real way to tell the time, so she just assumes.

"Ferric, I'm back," she whispers incase he was still sleeping.

"Hey Cress, how you doing?" he asks, sitting up and giving her a weak smile.

"I climbed all the way up the trees and saw the sun. Once you're feeling better, I'll for sure bring you with me." she smiles.

"Really?" Ferric smiles.

"Really." she nods. "It's a promise."

"Cress, can I ask you for something?" Ferric asks.

"Go ahead." she leans forward, scooting closer beside him.

"I want a hug." his voice is quiet, barely audible.

"Then you get a hug." Cress quickly settles beside him, hugging him tightly while being careful of his wounded shoulder.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice shaky. His body shakes slightly and she feels tears trickling onto her shoulder.

"Anytime." she hugs him until he falls asleep, which prompts her to get up and stretch. He was doing a lot of sleeping nowadays. She hears beeping from outside. Crawling out of the cave entrance hurriedly, she finds one of the small drones used by sponsors to gift tributes. She opens it carefully and there's a note at the top.

"Give this to Ferric. - F." That's all the note said, but she knew who it was from. Finnick. She looked up to the sky, smiling.

"Thank you." she mouths. She opens it and finds a small container of cream. It must be for infections. She crawls back inside of the cave, gently shaking Ferric awake.

"Fer, look, we got a sponsor." she whispers. "It's for your infection."

"Really?" a smile breaks out on his face.

"Really." Cress gently removes the makeshift bandages, exposing the stab wound. It was very unsightly, something she'd rather not see again if she was honest.

"Oh, that's.. unpleasant." Ferric's nose wrinkles and his brows furrow.

"Just a bit." Cress is trying her best not to gag, but it's hard. She takes some of the cream onto the tips of her fingers. "This might hurt."

"Lovely," Ferric mutters, bracing himself. She slathers the cream on, Ferric hissing in an effort to not scream.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," she says softly, closing the tin. "How are you feeling now?"

"A.. lot better, actually." Ferric rolls his shoulder. "Hey, that shit is miraculous! I feel so much better, how is that possible?"

"Hell if I know," she shrugs. Ferric jumps to his feet, throwing punches at the air and moving around like he's in a fight.

"Look at me go Cress!" Ferric smiles. "Hey, can I come out hunting with you?"

"Ferric Amberfall, sit your ass down!" Cress crosses her arms, frowning. "You're still healing."

"But Cress!" he groans but she cuts him off before he can continue.

"No buts. You're going to sit your ass right there and not move until I get back." Cress raises her eyebrows, daring him to challenge her. "If you aren't sitting right there when I get back, you're going to be cooking your own damn food."

"Not fair." Ferric sits himself down on the rock, almost sulking.

"Well it's keeping you alive and I don't see you complaining about that. I'm going now." Cress climbs out of the cave and heads off to hunt. She just hopes that Ferric will actually listen to her and follow her goddamn advice. She returns to the cave about twenty minutes later with yet another rabbit. Before entering, she peeks through the cave entrance to check on Ferric.

Sure enough, he was punching the air again. "Ferric Amberfall, you stupid man." Cress frowns, crawling into the cave.

"Nothing!" he yelps, holding his hands up. "Fine, you got me. Please still cook my food for me?"

"No. In fact, I think it's your turn to deskin the rabbit, since you're feeling so much better." she hands the rabbit to him along with one of her knives.

"Fine," he mutters. The muttering continues the whole time he's deskinning the rabbit before he hands it off to Cress for cooking.

"Just because we're friends. And because you're probably gonna burn the shit out of it." she rolls her eyes but cooks it anyway, handing him a piece. He rips into it like he hasn't eaten for days, which is bull because Cress has been hunting for them.

"Thanks Cress, you're literally the most heavenly cook every." Ferric practically licks the bones clean.

"Fer, you want my extra piece?" she offers, holding it out to him.

"Yes!" he exclaims, snatching it from her hand and devouring it. "Thanks Cress."

"Don't mention it." she leans back, tossing a rock up and catching it. Ferric stretches and yawns, leaning back against the makeshift bed. "Tired?"

"Yeah." he admits. "Even though I took like a whole bunch of naps."

"It's cause your body is still healing. You should sleep." Cress raises her eyebrows, daring him to contradict her.

"Fine, you're right," he sighs, laying down. "Night Cress."

"Goodnight Ferric."

----------------------------------------------------

"So Finnick, you managed to send down some cream?" Haymitch was sitting beside him again, much to Finnick's annoyance. He just wanted to watch the Games in peace, keep an eye on Cress.

"Yup," he answers shortly, not in the mood for conversation. Watching Cress care for Ferric had been replaying through his mind all day.

"Oh, someone's stingy," Haymitch mutters, snickering.

"Shut it Haymitch." Finnick was not in the mood right now. Cress hadn't been paying attention to the cannons, but he had. It was down to Cress, Ferric, the Career pack, and the two from 7. That's only eight tributes left, and he needed Cress to be the one who lives.

She had to live.

Chapter Text

Ferric was venturing out with Cress for the first time in a week, both of them deciding it was time to find a new place. They said their goodbyes to the cave that they had been inhabiting for the majority of the Games and packed up their shit, ready to leave.

"Cress, you have no idea how much I missed actual air," Ferric sighs, taking a deep breath of fresh oxygen once he makes it outside.

"I think I have an idea." she rolls her eyes. "Come on. I don't know how many tributes are left, but I know for sure that the Career pack is still alive."

"I bet that girl from 7 is too," Ferric says, following her.

"You're probably right. Do you think that's it?" she asks, peeking around the corner.

"Honestly? Yeah." Ferric nods. "I think that's it."

"I think it's finally time we went after the Career pack," Cress sighs. "But we have to be smart about it."

"Finally!" Ferric grins, stretching his arms. "We so got this Cress."

"Sure we do." Cress felt that Ferric should maybe be more concerned about their impending doom, but who was she to dictate his feelings?

"Let's go, come on Cress!" Ferric starts to jog, miming punches the whole time.

"Ferric, wait up!" Cress runs after him, muttering curses to herself about 'impudent men and their stupidity'.

"So, Cress, what's the plan?" he asks, putting his arm around her shoulder.

"I have an idea," she says. "You draw them out, make them follow you to where I am. I'm gonna be up in the trees and when they go by, I'll take care of them. You'll need to be on your guard, because there's no guarantee that I can take care of them all in one swoop."

"Damn, you've thought this out." Ferric raises his eyebrows, looking impressed. "Didn't think you had it in you."

"Ferric, I've had a week to think about this," she sighs.

"Fair enough. Guess we should put that plan into action then." Ferric cracks his joints.

"We can't do it yet though. First, we gotta take care of that girl from 7." Cress frowns.

"Shit, I forgot," Ferric mutters. "Yeah, you're right. Let's go hunting."

"Good idea." Cress and Ferric walk around in the maze, Cress occasionally scaling trees to see. When the ground starts shaking, they gripped onto each others arms so they wouldn't be separated.

"I hate when that happens," Ferric mutters, frowning.

"You and me both." Cress glances around, listening. She hears rustling to the left. "Ferric, duck!" As they both drop to the ground, a knife whizzes over their heads and the girl from 7 drops down from the trees.

"Couldn't have just taken it to the face like you were supposed to huh?" she snaps, teeth bared.

"How's your shoulder?" Ferric smirks, reminding her of when he'd shot her in the shoulder with his harpoon.

"Fuck you!" she exclaims, pulling an axe from behind her.

"Oh shit!" Ferric tackles her before she can throw it, knocking the axe from her hands.

"Ferric!" Cress grabs the axe before the girl from 7 can, brandishing it like she knows what the hell she's doing.

"Cress, get out of here!" Ferric shouts, wrestling with her now.

"No way, I'm not leaving you!" Cress pulls a knife out but can't line up a shot. She watches as they both stand up, the girl getting Ferric into a chokehold. Once she for sure was turned away and couldn't see Cress, she snuck up behind her and jumped onto her back.

"What the fuck?!" the girl is so surprised she lets go of Ferric, now focused on Cress who was currently piggy backing her.

"Hi," she mutters, before slitting her throat. It's done before the girl can take another breath as she falls forward. Cress falls with her and rolls off of her body, the pool of blood expanding around the now dead tribute. The cannon goes off, the loud boom resonating across the arena.

"Cress, oh my god, are you okay?" Ferric asks, checking to see if she's alright.

"I'm fine, are you? She tackled you pretty good. How's your neck?" her hands graze his neck gently, spotting the bruises that had started to form there.

"It's fine, don't worry about it," Ferric mumbles.

"Ferric, it's clearly not fine." she rolls her eyes. "Come on, we've got to keep moving."

"Yes ma'am." Ferric continues to follow her through the maze, leaving the District 7 girl behind.

"Aw damn, my hands are bloody," Cress mutters, staring at the still wet blood on her fingertips.

"It's fine Cress, don't worry about it," Ferric says softly.

"But what if she had like HPV or HIV or whatever it is!" Cress exclaims. "Ew! Ew, ew, ew!"

"I think you're spiraling," Ferric says. "Sit down."

"Spiraling? I'm not spiraling. I'm fine! It's very normal to be worried about getting diseases from blood!" she takes deep breaths, sitting down. "It's fine. I'm fine."

"I don't think you are." Ferric kneels beside her and digs the water bottle out of her pack, handing it to her.

"Her blood is on my hands Fer," she whispers, staring at her hands with glazed eyes.

"You did what you had to do." he puts his hand on her shoulder gently, forcing her to look at him. "Hey, you saved my ass just now. If it weren't for you, she would have definitely killed me." Cress just nods, feeling zoned out and slightly out of her mind.

"I didn't even hesitate when I slit her throat." Cress glances up at him, her eyes widening slightly. "Does that make me a monster Fer?"

"No Cress, it doesn't. You're still you, you're still Cress." he gives her a soft smile. "Still the Cress who took care of me for days after I was stabbed. Still the Cress who comforted me after I killed that boy from District 10. You aren't a monster, Cress, you're a survivor."

"You sure?" she mumbles.

"Positive."

"..Alright." she stands up. "We should keep moving. It's not safe here."

"Yeah, definitely." Ferric nods. They walk down the path together, being cautious. By some miracle, or maybe someone watching out for them from above, they find themselves at the lake again.

"Hey, aren't the Careers around here somewhere?" Ferric whispers.

"Across the lake. We came out over there last time." Cress points to the opposite side of the lake, where a fire is smoldering. The blurry outlines of four figures are obvious against the trees.

"All of them are still alive huh?" Ferric sighs. "Guess we've got our work cut out for us."

"Tomorrow, we set the trap. Then the day after, we kill them all."

"Whatever you say, Cress."

------------------------------------------

Finnick was still shocked from seeing Cress slit that girl's throat, the one from 7. Topaz Nighthorn, that was her name. She'd been a strong contender to win this year, but Cress had slit her throat like it was nothing.

It had been jarring to see that look in her eye, the cold ruthlessness of a seasoned killer. He knew she'd done it to protect and save Ferric, but holy shit. It was honestly a little terrifying for him to see.

"Your girl's pulling her weight out there." Haymitch leans back, tipping his glass at Finnick. "You did good, trained her well."

"Wasn't me who trained her to do that," Finnick mutters. "That's her on her own."

"Then she's gonna be one hell of a victor. Might even take your place," Haymitch snickers.

"You think she'll be the victor?" Finnick asks, turning towards Haymitch. For once in his life, Haymitch has said something that wasn't complete idiocy. Haymitch rewinds the video to when Cress slit Topaz's throat.

"See that look in her eye?" Haymitch points at Cress. "I bet that if one of those Careers kill Ferric, your little bird in there is gonna spiral."

The thought of her spiraling and killing them all isn't a good one, but the image of her face flashes through his mind again. The rage, the cold ruthlessness, the way she slit her throat like it was butter...

It was kind of hot.

Chapter Text

"Ferric, pass me the rope." Cress holds her hand out for the rope that had came with the catch bar. Ferric was sitting on a branch about 13 feet off the ground, if Cress was guessing correctly, and she was on a branch about 17 feet up.

"Rope, rope, rope.. rope!" Ferric hands her the rope with a beaming smile, looking very proud of himself.

"Thank you." she secures it's hold on the catch bar. "Time for a test run."

"Are you sure this is gonna work?" Ferric asks, his voice wavering when he sees her ready to jump.

"Nope. Wish me luck." With those parting words, Cress jumps and grips onto the catch bar. Suddenly it's just her hands on the bar and the open air.

It's exhilarating.

She'd missed the feeling of swinging through the air, not a care in the world. Well, except falling and dying. But she wasn't up high enough for that, so it was fine.

"Wow," Ferric watches her soar through the air with an awed expression, his face slack with admiration.

"You wanna try?" Cress dismounts and motions for him to climb up to her.

"No thanks, I prefer to leave my feet on the ground. I'm not really a sky kind of guy." he holds his hands up, giving her a charming smile.

"Alright, I see how it is." she sets the catch bar down behind a smaller branch to make sure it doesn't slide off at some point.

"Hey now, be nice," Ferric laughs.

"I'm very nice." Cress climbs down to where he's waiting and sits beside him, looking out at the trees that surround them.

"Hey Cress?" Ferric leans forward slightly, smiling at her.

"Yeah Fer?"

"You look really pretty right now." his voice is a low whisper as his eyes gently trace over her face. "Like, really pretty." Cress feels her face heat up, her cheeks reddening for sure.

"Thanks Ferric." Cress is smiling, a smile directed at Ferric. "You don't look so bad yourself." Now it's Ferric's turn to blush, his tanned cheeks turning pink.

"You don't mean that..," he mumbles, looking away before glancing back over at her with a slightly hopeful expression. "..do you?"

"I do mean that." she gently hits his shoulder. "You're attractive, Amberfall."

"Cress, this is definitely the worst time for this considering one of us is gonna die but I just have to tell you." Ferric takes a deep breath. Cress feels her muscles lock up and her spine stiffen. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit.

"Cress, I-" he starts, but then the sound of something moving shuts him up. It was about twenty meters away, and sounded like an animal of sorts.

"What was that?" Cress sits up, glancing around with her brows furrowed.

"I don't know." Ferric's grip on his harpoon tightens, knuckles whitening. "Should we go check it out?"

"Probably a bad idea. Let's go." Cress climbs down quickly and waits for Ferric at the base. "Hurry up Fer, come on."

"I am hurrying, Cress, not everyone is a trapeze artist," he mutters, landing heavily beside her.

"Well now, who's fault is that?" she starts walking, not waiting for Ferric. "Come on slowpoke." The noises get louder and Cress pulls out one of her knives, frowning.

"Cress, maybe we should turn around," Ferric whispers, grabbing her shoulder.

"Yeah, you're probably right." she nods, turning on her heel. A loud baying sound erupts from behind them and they both turn white in the face.

"Holy shit," Cress whispers, taking in the creature in front of her. It was a bear, of some sort. It had thick brown fur, red eyes, and was the size of an elephant. Or she assumed it was, she'd never seen an elephant before. It stares at them for a minute, and they stare back.

"Nice bear..." Ferric says, holding up his hands. It growls, bearing its dagger-like teeth. It paws the ground, scraping up dust and dirt. "Okay, not nice bear, Cress, run!"

Both of them take off, the bear baying loudly behind them as it gives chase. "Ferric, that's one of the Capitol mutts!"

"Oh, no way. You just blew my mind," Ferric says drily, following her as she runs. She was a bit ahead of him, but not by much.

"Shut it Fer!" Cress swerves when they get to a corner and quickly races up a tree. "Up here!" Ferric moves faster up that tree than she's ever seen him move. Ever. He practically flies up to where she is, panting as he comes to a stop.

"Holy shit," he wheezes, trying to catch his breath. The bear paces beneath their feet, growling at them and baring its teeth.

"Looks like we have a new companion," Cress says, breathing heavily. "Meet Deedee the bear."

"Deedee?" he raises his eyebrows, the corners of his mouth turning upwards.

"Yup, Deedee." she nods. The bear seems to agree, scratching at the tree and growling. "See? It likes it."

"Sure it does, sweetheart," Ferric mutters. "Guess we're stuck up here, huh?"

"Maybe not." Cress looks around. "Harpoon it. Harpoon the bear."

"What?" Ferric glances over at her.

"Use your harpoon to kill the bear," she says each word slowly to enunciate her point. When he still looks bewildered, she sighs. "You. Bear. Harpoon. Pew pew. Dead bear."

"Yeah, I understood, I'm not stupid. I just feel bad for the bear," he says, cheeks reddening.

"Well don't. It's either that bear or us, and I don't really feel like getting eaten today." she looks down at the bear, which has started baying again. "So, what's it going to be? Us, or the bear?" Ferric's eyebrows furrow, his lips pursing, before he pulls out his harpoon. Quick as a whip, he loaded it up and fired, nailing the bear straight in the skull from about eight feet up.

"Us. Always us." Ferric looks towards Cress with earnest eyes, and she nods.

"Good choice. Now, let's find my freaking catch barand get out of here. I'm sure the Careers heard that fucking bear too." she starts crawling through the trees towards the direction they came from. They manage to find the catch bar before the trees start to shift, a stroke of luck for them. They get down on the ground as the ground starts shaking and run to the lake, just clearing the trees as they shift.

"Holy shit," Ferric pants, stressed from all the running.

"Likewise," she mutters. They walk back into the new entrance of the maze, camping out in the trees.

"This is.. better than I thought the Games would be." Ferric stares up through the branches at the sky, a small smile on his face.

"Really?" she glances over at him. "I can't say I'm a fan."

"It's not so bad. At least we're together." Ferric gives her a smile and she gives him a weak smile back.

"Goodnight, Ferric."

"Goodnight, Cress."

---------------------------------------------------------

"That, folks, is the legendary Wildebeaste! Engineered by the Capitol during the rebellion, it is a mix of bear, tiger, and a secret animal that no one else but the engineers know! They're known for their relentlessness and how they never give up the hunt, as well as their huge teeth that can rip people apart in seconds. Claudius, have you ever seen such a beast in person?" Caesar's voice echoes throughout Finnick's room as he watches Cress and Ferric get chased.

"Never, Caesar. Just in the pictures." Claudius seems less interested than normal.

"She's a fast one," Haymitch muses. "Your girl, I mean."

"She's not my girl," Finnick says through gritted teeth. He may wish so, but unfortunately she isn't.

"Got her buddy to take down the Wildebeaste, that's good. She's good with others I see." Haymitch seems to be talking to himself now.

"Yeah, she is," he nods. "She's always been good with others."

"Did you see how Ferric listened to her when he killed that Wildebeaste? That's a man in love right there," Caesar laughs, Claudius cracking a smile. Finnick's grip tightens on his glass.

"Speaking of love, Cress seemed to be admiring his muscles at one point, isn't that right Caesar?" A loud crack and his glass shatters, startling everyone there.

"Finnick!" Enobaria exclaims, frowning. "Be more careful, please!"

"Sorry," he mutters hastily, as one of the avoxes cleans up the glass on the ground. He glanced back up at the TV to see the replay of Ferric shooting the Wildebeaste in the head and it baying loudly before collapsing, dead.

Finnick prayed that Cress wouldn't suffer the same fate.

Chapter Text

"Ferric, today's the day." Cress stretched and started to climb down from her spot on the tree.

"Today?" Ferric follows her down.

"Today." Cress nods, crossing her arms when she gets to the ground. "You're going to lure the Careers, and I'm going to kill them."

"You sure you can handle killing them?" Ferric asks, his brows furrowing.

"Yeah. I'll be fine, don't worry about me, Fer." she gives him a half smile, though it was pretty weak. Ferric doesn't seem convinced, but he lets it go.

"So, what's the plan?" Ferric asks, landing beside her on the ground.

"Still working on it," she sighs. "Let's kill some Careers."

"Lovely," Ferric mutters, following her as she starts walking.

"Fer, look." she points towards where the Careers had been camped out. It was now abandoned, but there was still smoke coming from the fire pit. "They're gone."

"I see that," he says drily. "Where do you think they went?"

"No idea, but if I had to guess I'd say they're hunting us down," she mutters.

"You'd be correct." Both Cress and Ferric whirl around to see Chrysa and Morrel, the District 2 tributes if she recalls correctly, standing there.

"..Fuck," Ferric hisses, quickly loading his harpoon and aiming.

"Double fuck," Cress whispers, pulling out one of her knives.

"Fancy seeing you here." Chrysa smirks, flicking her golden hair. "Honestly, this one is like a bull in a china shop." she points at Ferric with her longer dagger.

"Sorry," Ferric says sheepishly as he glances at Cress.

"It's fine." she waves him off. She'd been prepared for this. For an ambush. That's what she'd done earlier, while Ferric was asleep. She motions for him to run in the direction of her set up trapeze. He gives her an 'are you fucking crazy' look, to which she just rolls her eyes. Morrel starts a stare down with Ferric while Chrysa chooses Cress as her target.

"You're pretty small, you know." Chrysa walks closer to Cress, looking her up and down. "which leads me to wonder how you got a ten. Him, I understand," she points at Ferric. "but you, not so much."

"Guess we'll never know, hm?" Cress stares right back at her. "Your score was, what, a seven? That's not what I would expect from a Career." Chrysa's face reddens, her lips peeling back from her teeth as she bares them.

"That thing was rigged! I deserved a ten!" she exclaims, storming over and pushing her blade against Cress' throat. "I should slit your throat for that insult, sweetheart."

"Good luck," Cress whispers before breaking into a sprint, heading for the woods. Ferric, once he sees her move, follows right after.

"Hey, what- Get back here!" Chrysa and Morrel chase them, following them towards Cress' trap. "Morrel, why didn't you restrain them?"

"Well Chrysa, you didn't restrain them either!" he snaps back.

"Because it was your job, remember?" Chrysa makes an irritated noise between a grunt and a groan. "Whatever, just get them! Then we'll kill Velora and Cliff and split the supplies!"

"Careers," Cress mutters while rolling her eyes. She made a sharp turn around the corner and stopped at the tree where her trapeze was. Once Ferric was safely behind that corner as well, she let it fly.

What she'd done that morning was attach a knife onto her catch bar, which would kill anyone within its path by slicing their throat. Or that was the idea anyway, she had no idea if it would actually work.

It missed Chrysa, just cutting off a strand of her golden blonde hair, but it nailed Morrel straight in the throat. He fell to the ground as his blood splattered, a low gurgling sound coming from his ravaged throat as he slowly choked to death on his own blood.

"Morrel!" Chrysa's scream echoed across the maze as she knelt beside him and held him in her lap. "Morrel, no, no!"

"Chry...sa..." Morrel managed to gurgle, the blood getting all over Chrysa's legs.

"Morrel, stay with me," she pleads, but the gurgling dies down and his body stills. The cannon fires, the loud boom resonating.

Morrel was dead.

"No!" Chrysa screamed, her cheeks wet with tears. After a few minutes she looks over at Ferric and Cress, who'd been frozen with shock. Chrysa went from grieving to furious as she looks over at Cress. "You! You killed him! I'm going to fucking kill you, you fucking bitch!" She springs to her feet, not even bothering with the blood on her clothes.

Cress pulls Ferric up the tree, figuring that Chrysa wouldn't be as good of a climber. She was wrong, however, as Chrysa started following them up. She was slower than Ferric, but she was making her way up. Cress grabs her catch bar and ropes with Ferric's help and they start moving through the trees. Chrysa is close behind them, her rage fueled adrenaline making her faster. Ferric and Cress, however, are fueled by fear, which is almost as powerful.

"Fer, this isn't good," Cress pants, swinging to the next tree over.

"No shit," Ferric sounds equally winded as he follows her through the branches.

"Get back here so I can kill you!" Chrysa shouts from about thirty feet behind them, if Cress' guess was accurate.

"No thanks!" Ferric shouts, quickly moving to the next available branch with Cress.

"Ferric, shit, the trees end here!" Cress whisper-yells, her eyes wide as she points about twenty feet ahead.

"Just keep going," Ferric hisses, practically pushing her into the next branch. They were about fifteen meters up right now, it would be probable death if one of them fell.

"Don't push me!" she exclaims, moving faster. They reach the end of the trees, and both turn to see Chrysa getting closer.

"I've got you now," Chrysa's voice carries over to them as she gets closer. Soon, she's about a foot away from them. "Not so cocky now, huh?"

"Look, I didn't mean for it to kill Morrel. I meant for it to take you both out," Cress says, her brows furrowing.

"Fuck you!" Chrysa shouts, lunging at Cress. She darts to the side and pushes Chrysa hard, causing her to slip. Her grip on a branch is the only thing keeping her from falling to her almost certain death. "Wait, no, please, please, don't let me die!"

"Too late," Cress whispers, slowly unhooking each one of Chrysa's fingers from around the branch. Chrysa's eyes widened as she fell, staring at Cress with a fury that rivaled the gods, if there were any.

"I'm going to haunt you until you die, you District 4 bitch."

Chrysa slams neck first into the ground, a crack echoing around them before the cannon goes off.

Both Cress and Ferric stare down at the body beneath them, her golden blonde hair strewn around her like a halo.

"You know, I don't think she liked me," Cress mutters, sounding dazed.

"Really, how'd you guess?" Ferric responds, staring down at Chrysa blankly.

"Let's get down." she starts climbing down the tree, her hands screaming from how she'd torn through the branches while trying to evade Chrysa. She could tell that Ferric was feeling the same thing, as he was wincing every time his hands touched the bark.

"She ain't so pretty now, huh?" Ferric says, looking down at Chrysa's body. Her neck was snapped, hanging limply at an awkward angle. Her face was contorted in an expression of hatred, teeth bared and lips peeled back in a snarl.

"Come on Fer, she just died," Cress says, hitting his shoulder. "What now?"

"I guess we find the rest of the pack." Ferric shrugs.

"I think you're right." she nods.

"No need, sweetheart, we've already found you." Cliff's voice sent shivers down Cress' spine as she turned to see him and Velora standing there.

"What is it with Careers and sneaking up on us?" Ferric mutters, turning around.

"Guess you guys took care of Chrysa and Morrel for us? I should thank you, honestly. I really didn't want to kill them." Cliff has a smirk on his face that makes Cress' blood boil.

"Quit fucking around and kill them, Cliff," Velora snaps, eyeing Ferric and Cress with disdainful eyes.

"Oh come on, Vel, let me have a little bit of fun." Cliff rolls his eyes. Cress' hand made a move for her knife but Velora saw, aiming for her immediately. They both threw, Cress just a second faster than her. It landed soundly in Velora's throat, her gurgling filling the air. Cress closed her eyes but the impact from Velora's knife never came.

The sound of it hitting someone did.

Chapter Text

The wet thump echoes in her ears as she opens her eyes. Ferric's wide eyes meet hers and she shakes her head. Behind them, Cliff was cradling Velora's dying body, crying.

"No," she whispers. "No, it's not real." Ferric had a knife imbedded in his chest, surely fatal, and blood was starting to flow.

"Oh.. shit," Ferric mumbles, stumbling forward. Cress caught him, sinking down to the ground as she cradled him on her lap.

"Ferric, no, you aren't going to die." her voice is shakier than she wanted it to be. "Please, don't die, Fer."

"I'm sorry Cress," he coughs, blood on the side of his lips. The blood was pooling around them now, a small puddle forming and soaking her pants.

"No, Ferric, why would you do that? Why would you save me?" she asks, tears now spilling down her cheeks. "Ferric, why?"

"Couldn't let you die." his arm lifts, his hands gently curling around her bronze coloured hair. "Gotta win, Cress. For me?"

"I'll try Fer, I promise." she gives him a watery smile, and he returns it.

"Bye, Cress," he whispers as his eyes close, his breathing slowing.

"Ferric, Ferric no!" she half shouts, her voice rising and cracking. "Ferric!" His body stilled and his breathing stopped.

Ferric was dead.

Cress couldn't do anything but scream. A long, throat ravaging scream that echoed across the arena. She was still crying when she noticed Cliff moving out of the corner of her eye.

"You," he hisses, eyes narrowed with rage. "You killed Velora!" Cress doesn't respond as she stands up. Her stare turns to Cliff, her eyes wide and lips curled in a sneer.

"Run," she whispers, palming her knife. "Now."

"What? You bitch, why would I-" Before he can finish speaking, she's leaped at him. She knocks him down and starts trying to stab him with her knife repeatedly. "Hey! Get off of me! Ow!" she manages to stab his shoulder before he can push her off and run. She doesn't follow, her chest heaving and her grip on her knife turning her knuckles white.

Cress was alone now, but so was Cliff. Now all she had to do was hunt him down.

-------------------------------------------------------------

There were many tears in the Capitol when Ferric died, the sponsors mourning for him in their own fucked up way. Finnick watched as Cress trekked through the maze, her gaze set.

"She's mad now, hm?" Haymitch commented as he drank with Chaff. "Oh, Cliff is in trouble." Finnick doesn't respond, watching Cress. Her face when she realized Ferric had died was a sight he'd never be able to unsee. Her eyes had been wide, her pupils blown so wide that almost none of her iris was visible, her mouth opened slightly, and her bottom lip trembling.

A piece of her had died in that fucking arena, and he couldn't stand it.

"I bet on her killing that other one brutally." Chaff leans forward, pulling out some panars and placing it on the table. "And I think he'll be dead in the next, say, twenty four hours."

"I take that bet and I raise you that he'll be dead in twelve." Haymitch puts some more on the table, to which Chaff grins.

"You're on, old buddy. You going to join the bet Finnick?" Chaff glances over at him, and he shakes his head.

"I'm good." his voice is colder than normal as he turns back to the TV.

"You were right, Haymitch, he really is smitten," Chaff mutters, to which Haymitch snorts and Finnick stiffens. He was not smitten! He was... worried. That's it, worried!

"Am not," he snaps, face reddening.

"Sure you aren't," Haymitch snickers. Finnick stands up and stalks back to his room, glowering the whole time. When he makes it back in, he switches his TV on to watch the Games.

"Come on, Cress," he whispers to himself as he watches her. The expression on her face isn't one he's familiar with.

It's the face of someone fueled by absolute rage and grief, much like Chrysa's when Cress had killed Morrel. On Cress' face, however, she looked so much scarier to him than Chrysa ever did. Something about her had changed, her entire demeanour had shifted.

Finnick watched until he passed out in his chair, right there in front of the TV. When he woke up, Cress had set her trap and was waiting for Cliff.

-----------------------------------------------------

Die. Die. Die. Die.

The word echoed in her mind as Cliff walked down the path towards her trap. She was ready. Had been ready since last night, actually.

Cliff footsteps gave him away, she could hear him from a mile away. He had a habit of stepping heavier with his left leg, she'd noticed. It had a distinct tha-thump sound that gave him away, even when he was trying to be quiet. He stepped on a twig and it snapped, causing him to jump.

"Fuck," he hisses, and she immediately looks in the direction it came from. He was about twenty seven meters away and had a white knuckled grip on his chain. His weapon, she guessed. He also had a sword strapped to his back. That wouldn't save him in the end.

She was going to kill him anyway.

She readied her trapeze, waiting for him to approach. The seconds stretched into minutes as he walked closer and closer. Finally, he was in range.

Cress lept from her spot in the trees, swinging down on her trapeze and hanging by her legs. Her eyes were wide as she slashed her knife at him, hitting him in the shoulder as she swung by.

"What the fuck?!" he exclaims, clutching his shoulder. His eyes land on hers and widen. "..Shit." She quickly leaps off the trees again, coming back for another swing. Cliff gets his sword out in a hurry, clumsily swinging at her. He managed to cut her arm, but it was barely felt. She was running on pure rage and adrenaline at this point, she felt nothing. She nails his chest, leaving a cut, but it wasn't very deep.

"Just fucking die!" she shouts, swinging again and again.

After her fifth swing, Cliff has cuts on his cheek, chest, arms, and one particularly deep on on his shoulder. She drops from her trapeze, stalking towards him with her teeth bared. Cliff backs up a step, his lip curled in a snarl.

"Scared?" she hisses. "Just kneel over and die already!"

"Fuck no!" he exclaims, swinging his chain at her. She breaks into a sprint, leaping at him and causing him to lose the effectiveness of his long range weapon. She raised her knife before slamming it down with all of her strength, using her momentum to give it more oomph. It lands perfectly, slicing open his stomach.

She doesn't stop, raising her knife and slamming it down over and over and over again, long after Cliff was dead. She screamed, her throat going raw when she was done. She stood up, looking down at his body. It was full of holes, his entire upper body sliced to bits. She was covered in blood, it had splattered onto her face and coated her arms in a sticky red sheen. The Capitol speaker system that was in the arena crackled to life.

"Presenting your victor, Cress Bronzetide. The victor of the 67th Annual Hunger Games."

Chapter Text

Her chest heaved as she took deep breaths. Her body was strewn with cuts from Cliff's blade, her arms and chest covered in slices and cuts. She had done it. She was the victor.

She'd won the fucking Hunger Games. The trumpets ring throughout the arena, the loud noise causing her to jump. The Capitol hovercraft lowered it's ladder and she grabbed on, her body being frozen in place. It was a weird sensation, being frozen. Her muscles didn't move, she was barely able to breathe, and she couldn't blink. When the ladder re-entered the aircraft, the suspension stopped and she collapsed on the ground from the sudden release.

"What the..." she mumbles as one of the technicians sets her on the table.

"Don't worry dear, we'll have you right as rain in no time." Those are the last words she hears as a needle is injected in her back, knocking her out.

----------------------------------------------------

The air smells sterile. Not like the woods, but like a hospital. Or a mental ward. Her eyes shoot open as she looks around frantically. An Avox girl walks in with a tray of food, Cress' stare quickly jerking towards her. She stares her down as the girl approaches hesitantly, placing the tray in front of her. On it is a bowl of clear broth, a small container of what Cress assumed to be applesauce, and a cup of water.

The girl quickly turned and left, leaving Cress to eat her food. She started tentatively, taking small bites as to not overwhelm her stomach. She'd been knocked out for a few days, she assumes, as there was usually a gap between when a victor wins and when they're presented to the Capitol. There are small scars on her arms and chest that pair with the bigger ones that look like slices. She cleared her throat and spoke a few words, testing her voice. Raspy from lack of use, as she'd guessed.

When she tried to get up, something cold flowed into her arm through the tube, knocking her out once more.

Everytime she woke up, her scars had faded and her body had regained some fullness. Her curves, mostly muscle anyway, hadn't been affected much by the lack of food in the Games, but her cheeks were hollower than normal and her eyes had sunken slightly into their sockets.

By the third time she woke up, there was no sign of her ever being in the Games. Every single scar on her body had been erased, even old ones from before she'd entered the arena. Her bronze hair was vibrant again, her nails were polished and perfect ovals, her skin smooth like silk.

It freaked her out. The tube had been removed from her arm, so she tried to stand. She was fully prepared to fall over from lack of use in her legs, but to her surprise she was steady. There was an outfit on the end of the bed, the one that all the tributes had been given during the Games.

This one was new, it had no blood or dirt on it. She put in on, her skin protesting the feeling of the material. It felt wrong to wear it, wrong to wear the outfit that so many had died in. She wandered out of her room, searching for someone she recognised. Cress turns the corner and enters a large chamber, where her entire glam team is waiting along with Finnick and the escort who's name she couldn't remember.

"I don't care, you aren't going to fucking modify her!" Finnick was yelling, restrained by Sorrel as he yelled down a phone of sorts. "If you even touch her, I'll-"

"Finnick?" she asks tentatively, her voice hoarse. Finnick's gaze snaps towards her and he drops the phone like it was molten.

"Cress," he whispers, his eyes widening. After a moment of him just staring at her, he sprints towards her and scoops her up into a bone crushing hug. "You're okay." His voice breaks and he buries his face in her shoulder.

"Better," she says softly, the unspoken 'now that you're here' not needing to be said. Sorrel coughs behind them, causing their gazes to jerk towards him.

"Sorry to interrupt your reunion, but I believe that Tazzel might combust if he doesn't get to speak," he says dryly. Tazzel was going red in the face before he leaped at Cress.

"Oh Cress, you made it! I just knew you could do it, I just knew! I told them, I told them that you would!" he wails, hugging her tightly. "You won, oh you did so well!"

"Hi Tazzel," she says, her lips curling into a half smile at Tazzel's reaction. With Tazzel still sobbing into her shirt, she shakes Saffrin and Sorrel's hands. "Sorrel, Saffrin."

"Congratulations on your victory, Cress." Saffrin offers a thin smile, an unusual show of emotion from her.

"I never doubted you once," Sorrel whispers to her, winking at her. That earns a small smile that was an actual real one. Finnick had his arms crossed, miffed that he'd been pushed away from Cress' side.

"I think it's time for Cress to get ready," Finnick says, his jaw clenched slightly. "Sorrel?"

"You're right, you're right." he nods. "Can someone help me rip Tazzel off of her so she can walk?" It takes both Finnick and Sorrel to remove Tazzel's iron grip on Cress. Once he'd been removed successfully, they head up to the lobby from what she assumed was the hospital area of the Tribute Center. It was deep underground, below even the Training Area.

They walk through the lobby quickly, workers ogling Cress as they went by quickly. Once they got up to the fourth floor, she was given some real food. A large haddock, cooked very well and drizzled in tartar sauce. It also came with carrots and rolls. Her portions were being controlled, but Saffrin snuck her a second helping of fish.

They all go back to Cress' room and Sorrel leaves to prepare her outfit while Saffrin and Tazzel assess her looks.

"Oh, full body polish, very interesting. It's doing wonders for your skin, not that you needed it anyway," Tazzel observes. "Your skin was incredible even before the polish, I must know your secrets."

"Um... yeah, totally," she says, turning in the mirror. Her cheekbones jutted out of her face, her eyes had sunken slightly, and her ribs were countable. Her curves, mostly made up of muscle, had remained mostly unchanged. They gave her a bath, Tazzel insisting that he deep clean her hair after 'its horrible treatment in the arena', as he put it.

They both talked about the Games for almost the whole duration of Cress' glam session. They never asked her anything, it was all about their experience and how it was for them.

"When you killed that girl from 7, I had just taken a sip of water and would you believe that I spit it out all over Effie? She was not pleased to say the least," Tazzel chatters, his comb ripping the knots from her hair.

"I was getting my lashes done when Ferric killed that tribute that had gone mad," Saffrin says, her voice carrying it's usual monotone. The mention of Ferric sent stabs of pain through Cress' body, feeling like she was being stabbed with a rusty knife. After what felt like forever, Sorrel re-entered with a simple pale blue dress.

"Try this on." he hands it to her and she slides into it. Cress immediately notices the padding in the chest area and raises her eyebrow quizzically. "The Gamemakers were going to alter your body surgically. That's what Finnick was yelling about over the phone." Her heart sank but she nodded. She was starting to turn to the mirror when Saffrin handed her shoes.

"To complete the look." Saffrin helps her put on the white heels, they were simple but elegant. "Perfect."

"Now Cress, I want you to look in the mirror," Sorrel instructs, and she complies.

"Holy sh-" she slaps her hand over her mouth when she sees what Sorrel had done. Her dress looked like water, it shifted and changed at the slightest movement. "Sorrel, it's wonderful." The pearls made a comeback once more, her earrings being pearl as well as a necklace.

"A true princess of the sea." Tazzel smiles, wiping a tear from his eye.

"You're ready," Sorrel says, gently putting his hand on her shoulder. "You've got this."

"Show them what you're made of."

Chapter Text

She stands on the platform that will raise her to where Flickerman is waiting. There was an order that was followed when showing off the victor. First the prep team, then the escort, then the stylist, then the mentor, then finally the victor. About three minutes ago, Sorrel, Tazzel, and Saffrin took off to get to their respective platforms. Cress was alone, under the stage, in the dark.

Lovely.

She tugs on the base of her skirt, fidgeting on the spot. It smelled moldy and damp down below the stage, and the smell of rot was prominent. The thought of the boards above her breaking and collapsing on her was causing her to sweat, her skin getting clammy.

Suddenly the anthem booms in her ears and Caesar's introduction music plays. Cress hears him greeting the audience with his usual smile and obnoxious laughter. The crowd's cheers grow as her prep team is presented to the crowd. Tazzel was probably bouncing off the walls with excitement, while Saffrin was waving cooly at the crowd, she imagined. Then the escort who's name she couldn't remember was presented, the cheers growing slightly. Sorrel is next and the crowd's cheers reach new heights. He was quite popular in the Capitol right now, his designs famous.

Then it's Finnick's turn. His appearance brings a round of ear-splitting screams and stomping that shakes the boards above her head. Now she's very worried that they'll fall right on her head. She imagines how he would look right now, maybe in a suit.

Maybe shirtless. She's ashamed of the way her lips curl into a grin at the thought.

The platform starts to rise, startling her out of her thoughts.

"Please welcome, the victor of the 67th annual Hunger Games, the Pearl Princess herself, Cress Bronzetide!" She sees the lights first, or rather doesn't see them as they blind her. The roar of the crowd becomes deafening when they see her. Cress' eyes adjust to the lighting as Caesar smiles widely. Finnick quickly walks over to her and takes her hand, guiding her to the chair where she'll be sitting. It's ornate and looks like a pearl.

Finnick sits close by, barely a foot behind her.

"Cress, I must say, I just love your outfit!" Caesar exclaims, gesturing to her dress. "It truly looks just like water!"

"Oh, thank you Caesar. I wish I could take the credit for it, but it all belongs to my incredible stylist, Sorrel." she smiles, and the crowd cheers.

"Such a humble girl!" Flickerman crosses his legs, leaning forward. He talks for a little bit longer, her practiced smile never leaving her face.

Then it was time for the show. It will last exactly three hours, and it required to view for all of Panem. The lights dim and the Capitol seal appears on the screen. Cress steels herself, as now she has to watch every single tribute die.

Including Ferric. Her chest tightens but she keeps her face neutral as it starts to play. She hates to admit it, but she's impressed by how they've compressed around three weeks worth of footage into a three hour video. They've chosen the footage to write a story, the story of Cress and Ferric. The first half hour focuses on the pre-arena events, the Reaping, the Tribute Parade, her and Ferric's training scores as well as their interviews.

Her chest hurts as she sees Ferric smiling and alive, feeling like she was being stabbed with a rusty knife once more. The upbeat soundtrack that's playing in the background just makes it worse, as everyone in this video is dead but her. Then they start on the arena footage. They start with the bloodbath, showing the tributes that were killed in extreme detail. The camera pans over to Cress and Ferric as Cliff asks them to form an alliance. The crowd boos when he asks, then cheers when Cress turns him down after Ferric shook his head. The next clips are of when Ferric shot his harpoon at the girl from 7, hitting her shoulder.

The shots are mostly of Ferric, of his longing glances directed at her that she'd never noticed, how he'd watch over her as she slept. Then they showed him killing the tribute who'd gone crazy after his sister was killed. They showed a few shots of the other tributes kills, mostly the Careers. Cress' blood boiled when she saw Velora on screen, gloating over her kill with Cliff. The camera pans back to her and Ferric, showing the moment when the tribute from 11 had thrown a knife into Ferric's shoulder.

She watched herself draw her knives and launch two of them, killing him. It zooms in on her and Ferric holding onto each other as the trees shift, his shoulder bleeding profusely. They show the clips of her taking care of him, of the drone that came from Finnick and the sponsors, her putting the cream onto his wound, and his slow recovery.

They show the fight between the girl from 7, how Cress slit her throat to keep Ferric safe. The audience swoons, some chattering about how romantic it was that she'd saved him like that. The movie continued to play, showing their escape from what she now knew was a Wildebeaste. The crowd laughed when she called the bear 'Deedee', and they all cheered when Ferric shot it with his harpoon.

Then it starts on the painful part. They show footage from Cress and Ferric's interaction with Morrel and Chrysa and then the footage of Cress' trap killing Morrel. The shot of Chrysa crying over his body while Ferric and Cress stand over her keeps the crowd silent. The music picks up as Chrysa starts to chase them through the trees, alternating between a closeup of Cress and Ferric and shots of Chrysa as she gets closer and closer. Then it shows her pushing Chrysa off the side, her pleading for her life, and Cress then removing her grip on the branch.

The filmmakers have zoomed in on Chrysa's hate filled eyes, her words echoing through the room as she falls. Then her neck snaps, her face still contorted in its glare. Cress takes a deep breath, knowing what's going to happen next. It shows the footage of her and Ferric climbing down from the tree and standing over Chrysa's body, then how the remaining Career's snuck up behind them.

Cress' grip on the armrests of her chair tighten as she knows what's coming next. Her eyes shut as the wet thump of a knife hitting a body rings in her ears. She forces herself to watch, tears rolling down her cheeks as she has to watch Ferric die for a second time, watches herself completely break down when he takes his final breath in her arms. They replayed the footage of her trying to kill Cliff before letting him run off. Her eyes glaze over as she watches herself set a trap, watches as she swings on her trapeze and slices up Cliff before dropping down.

She leaps and slices him to bits, her knife raising and slamming down so many times she'd lost count. Then it finishes with a clip of her standing over Cliff's mutilated body, almost half of her own body coated in Cliff's blood, as she looks up directly at a camera. The room erupts into cheers as the lights come back on, Cress quickly wiping her tears before they're seen by anyone. The anthem plays again and everyone rises as President Snow steps up to the stand followed by a small girl carrying the crown on a cushion.

He walks over to her and places the crown on her head, his smile that of a snake's. "Congratulations, princess." His voice is smooth like snakeskin, causing her muscles to tense slightly. The crowd erupts into cheers and Cress waves for what feels like forever before Flickerman says his closing words.

"Don't forget to tune in tomorrow for the final interviews with our beloved Cress!" Flickerman says, as the lights dim. She doesn't even have time to collect her thoughts before she's whisked away to the president's mansion for the Victory Party. She doesn't even have time to eat as so many Capitol officials and generous sponsors wanted to take photos with the Hunger Games' newest victor. The night blends together as she takes one photo after the next.

Occasionally she'll catch a glimpse of Finnick, which makes her feel better, or a glimpse of President Snow, which makes her want to curl up and die.

Chapter Text

She's woken up by Tazzel's exuberant voice chattering about how it's such a 'big, big, day!'. Cress was not in the same boat. Her head hurt and she was groggy from lack of sleep.

"Good, you're awake." Sorrel gives her a half smile. "Saffrin is preparing a bath as we speak. I have to run out and get your dress, and Tazzel needs to relieve some energy, so it'll just be you and Saffrin until we return. Alright?"

"Alright." she nods, her slippered feet making almost no noise as she makes her way to the bathroom. "Saffrin?"

"Cress, hello." she waves, ushering her into the bath. "How are you, feeling alright after the party?"

"It's been a rough morning," Cress mumbles, setting her robe and slippers aside as she slides into the bath. "How about you? The crowd loved you yesterday." Saffrin's cheeks flush, a small smile on her lips.

"I had an amazing time yesterday, that party was spectacular!" she says, a rare show of excitement coming from the typically collected woman. "President Snow shook my hand and I just about died. He even praised my makeup skills." The mention of President Snow sends a cold shock down her spine, causing her to shiver despite the warm bath.

"Really? Wow," Cress says half-heartedly, but Saffrin doesn't notice as she continues to talk. It seemed that she had a lot to say today, she'd noticed.

"And the video of the Games, oh my, I was speechless most of the time," she says, massaging Cress' scalp. "Fer-" Saffrin stops mid-word, not continuing when she feels Cress' spine lock up. Ferric.

His name is like a knife to the heart for Cress, the memory of his blood on her arms, her legs, her hands, all over her as he died in her grip. She couldn't save him, his death was her fault. He'd died saving her, and she'd never forget it.

Ever.

"..Sorry," Saffrin whispers, continuing to wash her hair.

"It's alright." Cress' voice is shaky, taking a sharp breath at the end of her sentence. It wasn't alright. It would never be alright. But she would have to live with it, with the guilt. His blood was on her hands, and she would carry its stain for the rest of her miserable little life. The rest of the time passes by in silence, Saffrin not wanting to make it more awkward while Cress is lost in her memories.

"We're back!" Tazzel's loud voice is followed by his quick pitter patter as he runs into the room. "Hello!"

"Hi Tazzel." Cress waves, and Saffrin nods in greeting.

"Oh don't you look refreshed and squeaky clean!" Tazzel coos, talking to her hair like it's alive. Cress raises her eyebrows but doesn't comment. "Now then Cress, onto important matters. You simply must see the beautiful dress Sorrel has made for you!"

"Tazzel, please," Sorrel says, a small smile on his face. "You've built it up too much."

"Nonsense!" Tazzel exclaims. "Oh, just look Cress! Isn't it absolutely wonderful?" Sorrel holds up the dress for her to see. It's a beautiful blue dress once again, this time with white lace that makes it look like cresting waves.

"Cress. Cresting. I see your train of thought here," she says, her lips curling into a smile.

"It's a little obvious, I'll admit, but I think it ties in beautifully." Sorrel laughs, crossing his arms. "Go on, put it on." She carefully puts it on with some help from Sorrel and Saffrin while Tazzel gathers up the accessories.

"Well Cress, I do believe that you'll be the prettiest victor the Capitol has ever seen!" Tazzel proclaims, ushering her towards the mirror. "Look, look!" She looks at herself in the mirror, her eyes widening when she sees the dress. The waves look incredibly real, almost like a projection, and they seem to shift with her movements.

"Wow," she whispers, watching the waves on the dress as they move. "This is incredible. How did you make is, Sorrel?"

"Lots of fabric and time," he says with a smile, which earns a small laugh from Cress.

"Well, I figured. I meant like how you made the wave effect?" she raised her eyebrow inquisitively.

"Trade secret darling." Sorrel winks, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Figures." Cress rolls her eyes, the smile on her face getting wider. "Alright, I'll quit asking questions now."

"Lovely! Oh, Cress, you look absolutely wonderful!" Tazzel seems to be unable to keep in comments to himself as he releases all of them in a spew of word vomit that continues for at least five minutes.

"Tazzel, I think you have some accessories for Cress, correct?" Sorrel finally interrupts, his jaw clenched slightly.

"Oh, yes, of course." Tazzel nods, handing her an elaborate necklace of, shocker, pearls, and a pearl encrusted headband. He also pulled out dangling pearl earrings.

"Lots of pearls," she mutters, letting Saffrin adjust her hair with the headband on.

"Of course there's lot of pearls, you're the Pearl Princess!" Tazzel claps.

"The what?" she asks, tilting her head.

"Pearl Princess," Saffrin repeats. "The pearls that you've worn for every outfit have become a staple for you, and since you frankly look like a princess, you're called the Pearl Princess."

"Oh," Cress mumbles. "Well, that's.. unexpected."

"Not really. You're a beautiful girl, and all the beautiful ones get a nickname." Sorrel shrugs. "You're all finished, take a look." Saffrin turns her towards the mirror, letting her see herself.

"Oh, wow." Cress twirled on the spot, watching the waves on her dress move. "It's amazing."

"Not my best work, I'll admit," Sorrel sighs. "But, I think you look beautiful. Your hair truly contrasts with the small details, but it looks amazing with the blue of the dress. You're like a mermaid come to life."

"Let's not add to my growing list of nicknames," Cress sighs. Her escort, who she'd recently learned was named Nutmeg Pitwillow, shooed her out of the door and towards where the interview would take place.

"Go on, go on. There won't be an audience this time, just cameras. It will be live for the whole country to see, so look your best." Nutmeg escorts her to the stage and waves, scampering off. Well she wasn't very helpful.

"Cress, lovely as always." Caesar smiles, motioning for her to sit on the ornate golden chair. It had a padded, cream coloured seat that was surprisingly comfortable, but the chair itself had pearls encrusted into the sides. "A throne for the Pearl Princess herself, of course."

"Of course," Cress echoes, sitting down. In the background was an aquarium that was in a u-shape. It was filled with colourful underwater plants and fish, it even had a couple of rather exotic looking ones that weren't native to Panem region.

"Now this is just a simple interview, no need to be nervous." Flickerman gives her his award winning smile. "Your dress is a real stunner, your stylist is clearly putting in the work to make you look radiant." Caesar chatters for a few more moments before he sits down, and the lights shine in Cress' eyes. Someone counts down in the background and then she's live for all of Panem to see. He asks her all the standard questions that they always ask the victor's during the final interview, before moving on to the next portion.

"Now Cress, do indulge me for a moment here, but how did you come up with the idea for the knife on the trapeze? That was truly a stroke of genius!" Flickerman asks, leaning forward.

"Well Caesar, I'll admit that I wasn't really thinking at the time, I was running more on my adrenaline." she smiles, crossing her legs. "I was just trying to keep both myself and.." her voice trails off. She can't bring herself to say his name. She's sure it must show on her face because Flickerman asks her a new question.

"When you pushed Chrysa out of the tree, I was dumbfounded, truly. You were so ruthless, so unforgiving. I loved it!" he smiles at the camera, laughing. "But I believe that you really won our hearts the moment that you and Ferric rode out on that chariot during the tribute parade. You both looked so beautiful, so ethereal if I was to be so bold."

"Yes, our stylists really outdid themselves." her voice sounds disconnected from reality, but she forces herself back into her own body. "Sorrel is quite the genius when it comes to design."

"Oh, I agree. His work is all the rage right now, he's grown so much practically overnight! Everyone wants one of Sorrel Kingston's pieces for themselves, myself included. You think that you could set me up?" Flickerman whispers the last part like he's trying to be secretive, which causes her to laugh.

"I'll put in a good word for you." she smiles, the tension in her shoulders fading slightly. After a few more minutes of chatter, the unavoidable subject comes up.

"Cress, am I right to assume that you killed Cliff so brutally because you blamed him for Ferric's death?" Caesar asks, and she can feel her spine stiffen. She forces herself to seem relaxed, her body loose.

"Yes, I'll admit that I lost myself to my rage in the moment." Her voice is quiet, for if she talks any louder it will crack and she will cry. Cress will not cry on live goddamn television, goddammit.

"I think we all felt his death, here in the Capitol. He was truly beloved by all." Caesar pulls out a handkerchief to wipe a tear from his eye. "He went down honorably, defending the woman he loved. Don't you agree, Cress?"

Her ears were ringing as she answered, almost robotically. "I agree, Caesar. He was a kind soul." The rest of the interview passes in a haze, Caesar's words echoing in her mind. Died for the woman he loved, but yet her heart belonged to another.

She was a liar, a fraud, she should've died instead of Ferric. But maybe it would've been pointless, maybe Cliff would have won anyway.

But it didn't change the fact that Ferric had died for her. Had loved her silently, never voicing his feelings but letting them show through his actions.

And she repaid him by loving another. By being in love with Finnick fucking Odair.

Chapter Text

Cress wasn't even able to give Tazzel and Saffrin a proper goodbye, only barely managing to speak to Sorrel before she was rushed out to the waiting car. The windows were tinted to prevent the Capitol citizens from peering into the cars, Cress assumes, as she's sat in a separate car from Finnick.

She wasn't too happy about that, if she was being honest. The train was waiting for her and Nutmeg rushed her aboard, insisting that they had to move quicker so she wouldn't be late to some dinner party. Cress had learned to just tune her out when she got to talking, because she didn't talk about anything but herself.

Once the train begins moving and it's plunged into darkness from the tunnel, she takes a breath. She was out of the Capitol. She could finally relax. She immediately took a lengthy shower, washing all the products out of her hair and scrubbing a layer of skin off of her body. By the end, she felt more normal, but still out of place.

She put on a pair of loose pants, ones that wouldn't strangle her legs like those damn tights, and a white shirt that was also on the looser side. She could finally breathe.

Until Finnick sat down beside her in the common area of the train. "Hey Birdie."

"Not in the mood Finn," she sighs, looking over at him. His blond-bronze hair, his sea green eyes, and his irritatingly perfect sun kissed skin made him look irresistible, to her at least. This was Finnick Odair, however, the man who regularly met with supermodels and actresses alike. Cress must seem like a troll compared to them.

"Aw, come on, don't be crabby." he leans back on the couch, that smirk of his playing on his lips. His lips, the ones she really wanted to kiss. No, don't think like that Cress. You do not want to kiss this man, you don't care about him at all!

"I am not crabby." Cress frowns.

"You just proved my point, sweetheart, want to try that again?" Finnick raises his eyebrow, the smirk getting wider.

"Oh, buzz off," she mutters, colour rising on her cheeks. "And don't call me sweetheart."

"So stingy today, wow," Finnick teases, poking her shoulder. "But it's still got you blushing."

"I am not blushing!" she exclaims, standing up. "Quit being an ass for like two seconds Finn, would it kill you?"

"Yes," he snickers, following her as she walks out of the room. "Oh come on, don't be like that Cressie."

"Give me a goddamn break," she mutters, crossing into a new compartment. "Bye Finn."

"See you at dinner Birdie." he winks, continuing down the hall to his own room.

"Asshole." Her cheeks are still pink as she sits down on her bed, burying her face into one of the cushy pillows on the bed. After a few minutes of her silently screaming into her pillow, she walks out and down the hall, wanting to explore the train further. When she was first on the train, she'd been on her way to compete and hadn't had the time to explore. Now that she was out of the arena, she wanted to check out the train. She walked into a compartment that smelled like water, assuming that it was a type of bathing area.

What she didn't expect is to see Finnick without his shirt on and a towel wrapped around his waist, walking out of a sauna area. She pauses and so does he as they stare at each other for a moment. Finnick recovers first, his lips curling into a grin.

"We've really got to stop meeting like this, hm Cress?" he raises his eyebrow.

"Yeah," she mutters, averting her eyes. "You going to stay shirtless, or will you have mercy on my eyes?"

"Oh come on Cress, I'm incredibly attractive!" he rolls his eyes, walking over and leaning over her. "Aren't I, Cressie?" Her cheeks went neon red when he spoke, her eyes defying her brain as they start drifting down his torso, admiring the muscle and smooth skin. There was the happy trail, oh lord above. Her eyes snapped back up to his face.

"Fine. You're mildly attractive. There, happy?" she raised her eyebrow.

"Not quite, but it'll do for now." Finnick gives her his signature charming smirk. "Bye bye Birdie."

"You suck, Finn." she exits the train car, running back to her room and shutting the door.

Did she fall asleep thinking about his abs? Yes. She did.

------------------------------------------------------

Finnick was going nuts. After his interaction with Cress in the common area, he'd gone to the sauna to relax. He may have been thinking of her the whole time and was imagining her being right there in the sauna with him, but he wasn't going to say that out loud. Then when he'd gotten out of there, he saw her standing there with a blush on her cheeks that just made him want to kiss her right there in the sauna compartment.

He'd seen her eyes, how they trailed up and down his body in clear admiration, watched her eyes linger on his abs.

Goddamn, she didn't know what she did to him.

His thoughts went back to a few years ago when she'd first started in the circus. He'd snuck out to watch her perform, not wanting to miss her first ever show. God, he'd been mesmerized by the way she moved on the trapeze, the way her body responded so smoothly and managed to twist itself into various positions.

He'd been in love with her, he just hadn't realized it at the time. Hadn't realized it, really, until he saw her fighting Cliff.

He, Finnick Odair, Golden Boy of the Capitol, was in love with Cress Bronzetide, the Pearl Princess.

"Fuck."

END OF PART ONE: THE 67TH HUNGER GAMES

Chapter Text

Cress stared out at the sea of onlookers as they chattered, all of them stealing glances of the stage where Cress would be in a few moments. The Victory Tour had begun, as always, in her home district.

"Presenting the winner of the 67th annual Hunger Games, the Pearl Princess of District 4, Cress Bronzetide!" She steps out onto the stage, the crowd cheering for her. She scans the audience, spotting Jaycee, Junie, and Annie waving at her wildly. It had been a relief when she'd reunited with them after the Games, there were lots of tears. Her eyes land on Ferric's family and she forces herself to stay still. There was his mother, Halle Amberfall, and his sister, Opal Amberfall.

Halle watched Cress with sympathetic eyes, meanwhile Opal looked at her with a withering glare. It's clear what their opinions were on her.

"Hello District 4," she says into the microphone. "I wanted to speak to you today to thank you all for your unwavering support of me during the Games. I truly couldn't have done this without the support of my district behind me." She pauses, letting the cheers of the crowd resonate for a moment. She glanced towards Ferric's family, feeling the colour drain from her cheeks as she meets Opal's intense glare.

"Murderer." Opal's mouth forms the word, her eyes boring holes into Cress' skull. She flinches slightly before straightening herself out, fidgeting with the pearls on her dress.

"But I think the person who deserves the most thanks is Ferric." Her throat feels dry, but she continues. "I'm not going to say that I know- knew, knew him very well, but he was there for me during the Games. He saved me more times than I can count, mostly from myself, and it hurts knowing that I'll never be able to repay him for that." She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment as a stray tear runs down her cheek. She quickly wipes it away, refocusing.

"Ferric was too good to die. He didn't deserve it." she looks out towards Opal, meeting her gaze. "He died for me, I couldn't save him, and now I have to live with that for the rest of my life."

Opal's gaze softens momentarily before hardening once more. She seemed hell bent on hating Cress, which she couldn't fault her for. Her brother was dead because he chose to save her, it's only logical that she shouldered the blame for it.

"My sincere condolences to the family of Ferric, Opal and Halle Amberfall. Your son was a good man. I'm sorry, I just-" she covers her mouth, hurrying off the stage as the tears welled in her eyes. She ran to the nearest garbage and emptied the contents of her stomach into it behind closed doors. She could hear the heavy footfalls that belonged to Finnick coming down the hall, and felt his hand on her shoulder.

"Cress?" he asks softly, no sign of the usual arrogant personality that he usually projected. "You alright?"

"Great," she mumbles, glancing up. "I'm just peachy."

"Cress, come on. Don't lie to me." he tilts her chin up, her eyes meeting his. "Tell me the truth, Birdie." She pauses for a moment, considering it, before she pushes his arm away.

"I'm fine, Finnick." she turns and walks back to the train, hiding herself in her own room before Finnick could catch up to her. She couldn't spill her guts to him, he was the root of her goddamn problems after all.

She was so totally fucked.

-----------------------------------------------------

The 68th Hunger Games; victor: Idris Webber

Sub: District 4 Tributes.

Dillon Bellrock, male, 14, reaped.

Status: Dead. Killed by Allium Gallowmark, District 6.

Opal Amberfall, female, 15, volunteered.

Status: Dead. Killed by Deezee Hawkway, District 2.

-----------------------------------------------------

The 69th Hunger Games; victor: Gaius Flamsteed

Sub: District 4 Tributes.

Flint Wildfall, male, 17, reaped.

Status: Dead. Killed by Cob Spottedwing, District 2.

Sapphire Lowway, female, 13, reaped.

Status: Dead. Killed by Cob Spottedwing, District 2.

-----------------------------------------------------

The 70th Hunger Games; victor: Annabelle Cresta

Sub: District 4 Tributes.

Marley Klisto, male, 16, reaped.

Status: Dead. Killed by Marsha Silverrock.

Annabelle Cresta, female, 17, reaped.

Status: Alive. Victor of the 70th Hunger Games.

-----------------------------------------------------

Capitol Files, Hunger Games; Victors.

File: Cress Bronzetide.

INFORMATION NOT AVAILABLE, NO CLEARANCE.

----------------------------------------------------

Capitol Files, Hunger Games; Victors.

File: Finnick Odair.

INFORMATION NOT AVAILABLE, NO CLEARANCE.

-----------------------------------------------------

Cress was mad. Real fucking mad. She took a sip of her drink, glaring at the TV as yet another pair of her tributes prepared to enter the Games. This was the 73rd Games, if Cress recalled correctly.

"What's with the frowny face, Cressie?" Finnick sits down beside her, arm over her shoulders.

"We're back here again, Finnick. Watching yet another pair of children die." she chugs the remainder of her drink down, setting the glass back down on the table. "This is so fucked, you know that."

"Believe me, I know." Finnick leans back on the couch, watching as the timer counts down. "I've been doing this longer than you have, sweetheart."

"Believe me, I'm aware," she mutters. "We've been doing this for, what six years now? You've been doing it for eight. God, I mean, we're twenty two years old and we're still stuck here year after year."

"I know, Cressie. I know," Finnick whispers, staring blankly at his hands.

"This shit is fucked. Holy crap, I have a headache." she stumbles to her feet and wanders down the hall into her room. She falls face first onto the bed, curling up into a ball. She'd always been a lightweight when it came to drinks, Haymitch kicked her ass every time at shots.

The memory of her past mentees, specifically Opal, came to mind. She'd made it so far, right to the final three, but was basically torn limb from limb by Deezee, a tribute who'd lost it when her district partner had been killed.

Opal. She'd failed not one, but both of the Amberfall children, and that just meant that the blood on her hands was getting darker with each passing day. She made sure to visit Halle and take care of her, feeling obliged to be there for her after she'd failed so horribly. Halle, thankfully, never blamed her for her children's deaths even though she had every right to. Cress made sure that she kept herself in check, for Halle, Junie, Annie, and Jaycee.

After Annie's Games, Cress wasn't able to leave her side for a week. The poor girl was so frazzled that if Cress was out of sight, she'd start screaming.

It had gotten bad, but with some help from both Junie and Jaycee, Annie could now be separated from her for days at a time.

Then there was Finnick. He was a topic that Cress didn't dare breach with herself. How could she, when that opened the door to a forbidden topic.

Ferric.

She couldn't talk about him, hadn't said his name in six whole years. She couldn't, not without bringing back the memories of his smile that felt like being stabbed with a thousand knives at once. So, by extension, Finnick was a forbidden topic for her to think about.

Her feelings didn't seem to be with the program, however.

Chapter Text

"Cress, come on. You can't ignore me forever." Finnick leans over her shoulder, his lips set in a pout. "I'm sorry I ate your crêpe, alright? I thought it was Haymitch's!"

"It had my name on it!" Cress frowns, grabbing yogurt from the fridge in the train's lounge and slamming the door. Finnick jumped back to avoid it. "And last I checked, I was the only Cress around here!"

"I'm sorry!" he groans, following her back over to the couch. "Come on, Cress, it's not my fault your damn crêpe looked incredible! Besides, you order them just how I like them." He gives her a mock-pleading look. "I'll get you a new one, promise."

"You better, or no more joint training." Cress crosses her arms over her chest.

"Oh please, anything but that! These ones are going to be annoying for sure!" Finnick swoons, falling over and onto her shoulder. She shoves him off, rolling her eyes. "However will I survive without the company of the Pearl Princess herself?"

"Finn, quit being a drama queen." she glances over at him. "You owe me two crêpes now."

"What? Why?" he glances up at her, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"Cause you just called me 'Pearl Princess'. You want me to return the favour, Golden Boy?" she raises her eyebrow as her words shut him up.

"Fine. Sorry," he mumbles, taking a bite of her yogurt.

"I hate you."

"No you don't." Cress stared at the TV, her mind far away. He was right. She didn't hate him, how could she, but she'd be damned if she said that she didn't wish to wake up hating Finnick Odair. Wake up and not feel her cheeks heating up in his presence. Wake up and not get butterflies from his smile alone. Wake up and not be in love with the Capitol Golden Boy.

"You're right. I don't."

---------------------------------------------------

"Alright, listen up." Finnick leans over the table, staring the two most recent tributes, Vanilee Wellblossom and Drake Roadrock, dead in their eyes. "I'm Finnick Odair, as you probably already know, and this is the lovely lady Cress Bronzetide. We're your mentors, and we're going to try to keep you alive. Understand?"

"Finnick, don't scare them," she mutters, glancing towards the tributes. Drake looked indifferent while Vanilee looked a bit intimidated. "I'm Cress, nice to meet you. I wish it was under better circumstances."

"He was speaking," Drake snaps, his eyes narrowing at her when she speaks. "Don't interrupt Finnick while he's talking." Cress' eyebrows raise in mild surprise, this boy's guts surprised her.

"Talk to her like that again and I'll break your arm." Finnick's cold voice seemed to intimidate Drake, as he immediately shut his mouth. Now both tributes were looking at Finnick with evident fear in their eyes, especially Vanilee. "Apologize. Now."

"Finnick-" she sighs, reaching for his shoulder, but he shrugs her hand off.

"No, Cress, he needs to apologize. He shouldn't be able to get away with being a dick, especially to you." Finnick glares at Drake, his arms crossed over his toned chest. "So, what's it going to be? Apologize now, or after I beat it out of you?"

"S-Sorry," Drake stutters out, his hands trembling at his sides. He steps back slightly, away from Finnick and his rather intimidating muscles.

"I'm sorry about him, he's riled up." Cress runs her hand through her hair, shaking her head. "Finnick, knock it off." After another moment, Finnick's glowering comes to a stop, but he continued to keep his arms crossed. "Thank you."

"Now then, back to what we were discussing." Finnick stands behind her, his eyes boring holes into Drake's skull. "What are your individual skills?"

"I'm good with a harpoon," Drake says, crossing his arms. Cress' muscles lock slightly, but she keeps her relaxed expression up.

"Harpoon, hm? Interesting. We can do something with that." she nods despite the tightening in her chest. "What about you, Vanilee?"

"I don't really have any skills," Vanilee mumbles, her cheeks flushing pink.

"What? You do have skills, I've seen you with the knife down in the butcher shop," Drake cuts in. "You're wicked with the knife, I swear."

"Me? Oh, um, not really..." her voice trails off into a mumble, her eyes downcast.

"Don't be modest, sweetheart, I'm sure you're great," Finnick chimes in. Drake's eyes slide towards him, narrowing into a slight frown. He didn't seem to take kindly to Finnick calling Vanilee 'sweetheart'.

"Alright, good, we've got a base here. Now to implement that into your training routines, so you'll have a chance of survival in the arena." Cress' pen scribbles across her paper as she makes up a plan, unaware of Finnick's eyes on her. Drake and Vanilee could see the softness in his eyes when he looked at her, the way his muscles seemed to relax while he was watching her. It seemed to be clear to everyone except Cress herself.

------------------------------------------------------------

She knew it was a dream. It was the same one she had every night, the same dream that had haunted her since her time in the arena.

"Cress, there you are!" Ferric exclaims, running over to her with a big smile on his face. "I've been waiting for you since forever? How've you been?" He looked like he hadn't aged a day, still the same seventeen year old. She didn't answer, she knew what was coming next. It always shocked her, however, when the knife entered his heart.

The scene shifts as Ferric falls to the ground, dead. She's in a dark room, two poles that have a man strung up on each.

Finnick and Ferric. They were both rotting, their corpses being eaten by crows.

Cress woke herself up, her screams echoing through her room and presumably her floor. Heavy footfalls sounded from down the hall and her door was thrown open so hard it almost fell off it's hinges.

"Cress, shit, you okay?" Finnick exclaims, immediately moving towards her and sitting down. She was breathing heavily, tear tracks on her cheeks.

"Fine. Fine," she whispers, wiping at her eyes. "Just go back to bed, Finn. I'm fine."

"No, no way. You're crying. You're going to tell me what happened, because I'm not leaving until you do."

"Just go away!" she exclaims, her voice louder than she meant it to be. Finnick blinks, taken aback. He slowly stands up, walking out of her room silently and shutting the door. Cress curls into a ball, her legs tucked to her chest.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," she whispers to herself, imagining that Ferric could hear her. Imagining that Finnick could hear her. "I didn't mean to."

Chapter Text

Her violent sobs filled her room, the half empty bottle of vodka beside her. They'd won. Katniss and Peeta had won. Both of them had survived, together, neither of them having to die.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fucking fair. Why couldn't they have done this for her and Ferric? Why? What was stopping them? Nothing, nothing was stopping them, her and Ferric just hadn't been interesting enough. After all, a tragedy is far more interesting than a happy ending.

"Fuck!" she screams, launching a glass vase at the wall. It shatters, the glass exploding and landing all over her floor.

"Cress, what the hell?" Finnick demands, walking into her room. His face quickly falls from anger to concern, seeing the bottle of vodka and the tears streaming down her face. "What happened?"

"They won. They fucking won!" she hisses, her words sliding through her teeth. "Both of them won, they both survived."

"What?" Finnick flicks on the TV, watching as the hovercraft descends and picks up both Katniss and Peeta. "Holy shit. They really did it."

"Fuck!" she yells again, moving to throw another glass at her wall. Finnick grabs her arm, forcing her to set the glass down on the table once more. Cress dissolves into loud sobs, covering her face with her hands. Finnick wraps his arms around her gently, and for once, she lets him. "It's not fair, Finn, it's not fair."

"I know, Cressie, I know," Finnick whispers, trailing his hand through her hair.

"Ferric could've lived, he could've been alive, he-he-" she becomes impossible to understand, slurring her words beyond recognition. Cress is a sobbing mess, her arms reaching for the bottle of vodka clumsily.

"Cress, no, no more vodka." Finnick moves the bottle away from her grasp, setting it on the table. She gives up after a while, her arms limp at her sides as she sniffles, managing to cry herself to sleep. Finnick stayed beside her, as she had accidentally fallen asleep on his chest.

"Fer..ric," Cress mumbles in her sleep, rolling over slightly.

"I know, Cress, I know," Finnick whispers, staring into the dark of the room as Cress sleeps.

---------------------------------------------------

"Aw, my head," she groans as she opens her eyes. She'd at least had the good sense to shut her curtains last night, so the light outside wasn't immediately in her face. Cress heard the breathing first, before she realized that she had a guest.

Finnick Odair was sleeping next to her, or rather, under her. Her eyebrows raise, headache momentarily forgotten as she feels her cheeks heat up.

"Finn, wake up," she mumbles, gently nudging his side. He grumbles under his breath, his arms tightening around her.

"Don't wanna," he grunts, shifting his body slightly under hers.

"Finnick, wake up," she says, louder this time. He groans and cracks open one of his eyes. She watches his expression change, from annoyance to shock to surprise and finally to embarrassment.

"Oh." is all he says, his arms quickly moving back to his sides as he lets her go. "Um. Sorry." Cress sits up as fast as humanly possible, then clutches her head. No rapid movement, got it. She stumbles into the bathroom and gets well acquainted with the toilet bowl.

"Finn, what's Haymitch's hangover cure all again?" she calls out to Finnick, who was in the kitchen she presumed.

"Raw eggs." That makes Cress gag again, her head shaking.

"Nevermind, forget I even asked." After a few more minutes of retching, she heads out to the small common area in the victor's apartment. There was one for each district, located on their respective floors.

"I ordered you a crêpe." Finnick points to the end of the counter, a plate bearing a crêpe and a small bowl of fruit waiting for her. She attacks the food, practically devouring it. "You feeling better?"

"No," she groans, clapping her hands twice. That causes the curtains to shut automatically, the darkness that now envelops the room letting her breathe. "Now I am."

"You're like a troll when you're hungover, I swear," Finnick snickers, sitting beside her on the couch. She shoves his shoulder with her elbow, to which he holds his hands up in surrender. "I mean, you're like a pretty princess who loves the sunlight."

"Shut up, your voice is hurting my brain," she groans, leaning back and putting her hand over her eyes. Finnick turns on the TV, flicking through the channels. "Anything good?"

"Nope. It's all about Katniss and Peeta," he responds. His voice is softer than usual, and she cracks her eyes open to peer at the TV.

"All about their love story, I presume?" she scoffs. "I don't buy it."

"Me neither. Peeta, I believe. But Katniss?" Finnick shakes his head. "She's trying to live, and I've got to respect that."

"Well she isn't doing a great job. The Capitol's going to be out for her blood after she showed them up at their own game." Cress frowns, staring at the TV. "They'll be after both of them, but her especially. That move with the berries is going to get her killed."

"You're right. I hate it when you're right," Finnick sighs.

"No you don't." Cress rolls her eyes, watching the reruns of the Games that played on almost every station.

"Yeah, I don't. But it's fun to pretend I do." Finnick smirks.

--------------------------------------------------------

"Look at her, all tucked into his side like that," Cress mutters, watching the interview from the couch. Finnick was seated beside her, eating popcorn from a glass bowl. "Should you be touching that?"

"Probably not. I got it off of the stand over there." he points to a display of decorative crystal vases and bowls.

"Finnick, seriously?" she raises her eyebrows. "You're a menace, you know that?"

"I try." he shrugs, smirking. "You love it though."

"Do not." she turns back to the TV, watching the slow-mo shots of Katniss' kills.

"You're such a Debbie Downer, you know that?" Finnick settles back with his crystal bowl of popcorn, occasionally handing a handful to Cress when asked.

"Shut up, at least I'm not a kleptomaniac like you." she sticks out her tongue.

"That was one time!" he protests. "And I didn't know that it was valuable!"

"It was on a stand, on display, in a wing labelled 'Artifacts of War'!" Cress exclaims. "It was literally labelled, and I quote, 'Helmet of General Farburough, who turned the tide of the war'!"

"Well I didn't see that, okay?" he huffs, crossing his arms and pouting like a child.

"You're so immature." she rolls her eyes.

"I'm very mature, thank you." he frowns.

"You order smiley pancakes for breakfast."

Chapter Text

She was seated in her house, found in District 4's Victor's Village. It was luxurious, of course, and Cress took great care of it, but Junie and her mother weren't the best with house maintenance. It didn't help that Jaycee basically lived there as well, escaping from her brother's sickness. Annie also preferred staying at Cress' house rather than her own, despite the fact that she lived next door. Basically, Cress ran a hostel.

"Cress, don't slack off now," her mother chastises. Aimlee Bronzetide was kind of a hypocrite in Cress' opinion. Yes, she was her mother, but that didn't mean that Cress respected her. She'd always chosen the bar over her own children, only cleaning up her act after Cress had won her Games. Needless to say, she didn't hold her mother to the highest regard.

Cress resorts to giving her a 'back off' look that usually sent her in the other direction. Today, it seemed, was not her lucky day as her mother didn't give up.

"Cress, don't make me do everything myself now, come on." she shakes a spoon in her daughter's direction. Cress' expression deepens into a glare, which seems to have it's desired effect on her mother when she finally backs off.

"Cress, can you-" Jaycee starts to ask but pauses when she sees Cress' face. "I'll just ask Junie."

"Good idea," she mutters, standing up and walking down the road to Mags' house. She knocks on the door gently, and it cracks open. Mags smiles at her, signing excitedly. "Hi Mags, yes, I made bread. You want me to bring you some?"

Mags signs yes, her eyes practically sparkling with happiness.

"Then you'll get your bread, I promise. I'll have Junie bring it by later." she smiles at Mags, who quickly hugs her tightly. Cress wasn't the tallest person ever, only 5'7, but Mags was still tiny next to her, only about 5'3 if Cress had to guess.

Mags claps her hands and shoos her off, exhaling to show how her breath was appearing. "Yes, I know it's cold, I'm fine Mags." She just shakes her head and shoos her back towards her house, waving. "Alright, I'm leaving. See you later, Mags."

Cress doesn't go back home, unsurprisingly, instead walking down the road towards the main drag. She walked past the bait shop, past the general store, over the bridge that covered the creek, and down the dirt road that led to Halle's house. She lived in the outskirts of town, out by the old watch tower. Cress knocked on the door, her knuckles and fingertips red from the cold.

"Halle? You there?" she asks softly. The door clicks open and Halle's weathered face meets hers.

"Cress, sweetheart, how are you?" she asks, opening the door to let her in.

"I've been better, but how are you?" Cress asks, helping her back over to her chair. Halle had a rocking chair that sat in the corner of her room where she was basically always found, unless she was sleeping. She had a fire going, the small cabin warm and cozy.

"Oh, I'm alright. Can't complain, really." Halle smiles at her, motioning for her to sit as well.

"I made bread today, would you like me to bring you some?" Cress offers, smiling.

"Oh, well wouldn't that be lovely!" Halle says, pinching Cress' cheeks affectionately.

"I'll be sure to bring it to you tomorrow." she stretches, cracking and popping her back.

"I remember the days that I could do that," Halle chuckles. "I made tea, would you like a cup for the road?"

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a bother, but I would really love some," she says, smiling. Halle hobbles around, getting a warm canister of tea for Cress.

"Here you are, sweetie. Be careful out there, it could be icy." she pinches Cress' cheeks gently again. "See you tomorrow, alright?"

"See you tomorrow, Halle. Don't miss me too much." she smiles, quickly running back down the dirt road, over the bridge, past the general store, past the bait shop, and entered Victor's Village once more.

"Cress, there you are!" Junie exclaims, running towards her. "They're announcing the Quarter Quell soon, come on home quick!" She grabs Cress' arm, dragging her back into her own house.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Cress sighs, and Junie giggles. "You are the most immature nineteen year old ever, I swear. Stop laughing, it's not funny."

"Sorry, sorry," Junie says, giggling still slipping through as they all sit down on the couch. Annie curls up on the floor in front of Cress, sitting between her legs, while Junie and Jaycee are on either side of her. Her mother sits in the lone armchair, legs crossed and hands in her lap as she stares at the crowd of girls around Cress.

President Snow graces the screens of every TV in Panem as he starts his speech on the Games. "On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it.” No one Cress knew had been alive for that one, except Mags. “On the fiftieth anniversary,” the president continues, “as a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes.”

Haymitch's Games. She could picture how his face would sour and he'd take a swig of whiskey, maybe flipping off his TV as if Snow himself could see.

"And now we honour our third Quarter Quell," he says, a small little smirk on his lips. The little boy in white steps forward, holding out the box as he opens the lid. Cress can see the tidy, upright rows of yellowed envelopes. Whoever devised the Quarter Quell system had prepared for centuries of Hunger Games. The president removes an envelope clearly marked with a 75. He runs his finger under the flap and pulls out a small square of paper. Without hesitation, he reads, “On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors.”

The room is silent before Annie starts breaking down. Junie and Jaycee immediately tend to her, while Cress stumbles to her feet. Existing pool of victors.

Finnick.

She races out the door of her house and across the road, knocking furiously on his door. She can feel the tears welling up in her eyes, but she wills them to stay put. "Finnick! Finnick!" After a moment, she hears his heavy footfalls and the click of the lock as it swings open. Without saying anything, he wraps his arms around her and buries his face in the crook of her neck.

"Cress," he whispers, and she just now realizes that he's shaking slightly. "We might go back in."

"Finn, I have to go back in," she says and he jolts back. He starts trying to argue but she cuts him off. "Annie can't go back, it would destroy her, and Mags is too old. It's going to be me."

"But, Cress-"

"No, Finn, I've made up my mind," she whispers, the tears starting to spill over once more. "I'm going back into the arena."

Chapter Text

"Cress, sweetie, you can't go back in." Halle's face was deathly pale, her grip on Cress' arms tight and unrelenting. "Please, please don't let my baby's sacrifice be in vain."

"Halle, you know I don't have a choice," Cress says softly, gently removing Halle's hands from her wrists. "I brought your bread, here." Cress hands her the small wicker basket full of bread and other small things. She'd stolen one of her mother's various whiskey bottles for Halle, as well as some cider that Finnick had brought her a week ago.

"Still, it's not fair!" Halle sniffles, wiping her cheeks. "You were in there once and escaped, but now you're going back in. How is that justified?"

"It's not fair, that's the point," she sighs, hugging Halle gently. "I'll be okay."

A little white lie never hurt anybody, right? Cress returned back to her house, Annie immediately latching on to her arm. Her attachment issues had flared up with the announcement of the Quarter Quell, and she'd been almost permanently at Cress' side, only deterred by Jaycee or Junie.

"Your dress is set out on your bed," her mother says, crossing her arms over her chest. She tried to hide it, but Cress knew her too well. Could see her bloodshot eyes, red tint to her cheeks, and the way she was having trouble focusing. Her mother had been drinking, again.

"Okay," Cress respond curtly, walking up the stairs to her room. She'd taken the master bedroom, despite her mother's insistence that it should be hers since she was the parent. Finnick had shut that down real quick once he caught wind of it. Cress wasn't clear on what had happened, Finnick had never told her the details, but the sight of him was enough to make her mother back off now.

"Cress," Annie says softly, quickly following her into her room. She sat on the bed while Cress put on her dress, a deep blue colour.

"Yeah Ans?" she asks, glancing towards her.

"I don't want to go back," she whispers, staring up at Cress with teary eyes.

"You aren't going back, Annie, don't worry," Cress says softly, kneeling beside her and stroking her hair gently. "I promise. Do you trust me?"

"I trust you."

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"Finnick Odair!" Cress' heart sinks when she hears his name called, bringing her back to nine years ago when she heard his name being picked for the first time. She forces herself to look straight ahead, to look anywhere but Finnick, but her traitorous eyes glance over at him. He was wearing his practiced smirk, waving to the crowd with that confident aura that drove the ladies wild.

As the announcer shuffles over to the next pot, Annie grabs her hand and grips it tightly. So tightly that her knuckles are bone white and she's practically breaking Cress' poor hand.

"Easy, Ans," she whispers, and Annie's grip loosens slightly.

"Sorry," she whispers back, her reddish hair falling into a curtain that covers her face.

"And for our female victor.." the lady grabs an envelope from the bowl and reads it aloud. "Cress Bronzetide!"

There's a ringing in Cress' ears that wasn't there before, that same static that had filled her head when she'd been picked for her own Games. Her vision tunneled but she felt herself waving and smiling like a robot, her movement mechanical, automatic.

She was going back into that goddamn arena.
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"Let's take a little looksie at your future opponents, shall we?" Haymitch smiles, standing in front of the TV. Katniss rolled her eyes but sat down anyway, Peeta taking the spot beside her. "Alright, time for a crash course."

"Just get to the point, Haymitch," Katniss mutters, raising her eyebrows.

"Impatient, aren't we? Fine, fine." Haymitch mutters something about 'insolent teenagers' under his breath. "From District 1, we've got Cashmere and Gloss. Won their Games back to back, and they're siblings to boot. They're going to be tough. District 2 brings us Brutus and Enobaria."

"What's up with her teeth?" Peeta asks, leaning forward. He pointed to Enobaria's teeth, which Katniss now noticed were sharpened into points.

"She had them altered after her Games, an homage to how she won," Haymitch explains curtly.

"By ripping someone's throat out with her teeth," Katniss mumbles under her breath, and Haymitch nods.

"Correct. Ten points for District 12." he continues with his little presentation, District 3 being next. "Beetee Latier, genius guy but kind of a dick. Wiress, she lacks a bit of sanity if I'm being totally honest. I mean, this one time-"

"Focus, Haymitch," Katniss snaps, frowning.

"Sorry. Sorry. And that brings us to District 4. Now, if I'm being totally honest, these guys are your biggest threat." he points to the screen. The announcer picks a name from the small pile, reading it aloud.

"Finnick Odair!" Katniss watches the Golden Boy of the Capitol step forward.

"What's his weakness?" she asks, staring at the screen.

"You'll see." Haymitch's eyes are trained on the screen as the announcer dips her hand into the other pot, fishing out another name.

"Cress Bronzetide!"

"And there it is." Haymitch's expression turns into a frown when he hears the chosen victor. "That's going to be his only weakness. Cress Bronzetide."

"The Pearl Princess?" Peeta asks, raising his eyebrow. "Really?"

"Oh you don't even know the half of it," Haymitch snorts. "During her Games, the well polished Golden Boy became a little frayed around the edges. But that doesn't mean you should underestimate her."

"I remember her Games. Her final kill count was six if I remember correctly," Katniss says, her eyes narrowed at the image of her on the screen. "Her partner, uh.."

"Ferric," Haymitch supplies. "Good kid, very kind."

"Yeah, Ferric, he died in her arms, I think." Katniss nods. "But even before that, she'd killed five people."

"Really?" Peeta asks, looking surprised. "She doesn't seem like a killer."

"She isn't. She's actually a very lovely girl, a real lightweight though," Haymitch muses. "She's always been able to get through to people, despite her rather large kill list. And if her kill list isn't enough to deter them, Finnick is. I'd bet that he's going to be trying his best to protect her, no matter what."

"He's not very smart then," Katniss comments, raising her eyebrow.

"That's why Cress is there. They're going to be a deadly duo, sweetheart, brains and brawn." Haymitch stares at Finnick and Cress on the screen. "Be careful around them, her especially. You don't want Finnick coming after you because you hurt his girl."

"Are they dating?" Peeta asks. "Like, how myself and Katniss are?"

"No, they aren't involved, but there's always been something there if you ask me. You didn't see him during her Games." Haymitch shakes his head. "But it's none of my business."

"Uh huh, you seem to make everything your business." Peeta's lips raise into a half smile. "You seem to know everything about them."

"Call it a hobby if you will."

"You're unbelievable."

Chapter Text

Cress woke up screaming. She'd had her stupid dream again, it never let up, not even for a night. The same chain of events, Ferric alive and healthy, unchanged from his seventeen year old self. Then he was dying in her arms, his blood all over her hands. Then Finnick and him strung up on the poles, their bodies rotting as the crows pecked at their remains.

"Fuck," she whispers, wiping her cheeks. She glanced around, she was on the train, in her compartment, on her way to the Capitol. Unable to go back to sleep, she clambers out of bed and puts on slippers, quietly walking down the length of the train to the common room. To her surprise, Finnick is awake still.

"Finnick? What are you doing awake?" she asks softly. Finnick jumps slightly when he hears her voice, whipping his head towards her.

"Cress, holy crap, you scared me," he whispers, hand over his head. "I'm reviewing the other tribute's Games, what are you doing awake?"

"Nightmare," she mumbles, brushing it off as nothing. She sits down beside him, watching the video of the Games with him. "Who's Games are these?"

"Brutus," he answers, adjusting the tablet so she could see. "He's going to be hard to beat."

"I'm more worried about the most recent victor's, Katniss and Peeta," Cress says, leaning back. Her bare shoulder brushes his and that's when she realised something very important.

Finnick was shirtless.

"Why?" Finnick asks. Right, conversation was happening, focus Cress. Don't focus on his abs though, focus on the words. Oh shit, now she's focused on his lips. Be cool, don't freak out.

"They're new. Fresh meat, if you will. And they've got the love story riding on their shoulders. The Capitol isn't going to want to lose their shiny new trophy so soon after they got it." Cress' eyes narrow on the image of Katniss holding the berries to her lips, Peeta doing the same. "We may not buy their act, but the Capitol sure does. I'd also bet on them trying to rig it for one of us to win."

"What?" Finnick looks surprised. "Why would you say that?"

"Out of most of the victors reaped, we're arguably the most relevant. I mean, the Golden Boy and the Pearl Princess?" she raises her eyebrows. "We're going to be targets, but the biggest one will be on Katniss and Peeta's backs. I would bet twenty panars on it, as well as my chocolate ganache cake."

"Wow, pulling out the big guns I see? Your chocolate ganache cake? I'll take that bet in a heartbeat, sweetheart." Finnick smiles, putting his hands behind his head. Her gaze flicks to his biceps, then back to his face. Oh lord, his biceps.

"Uh huh, I'm sure you are," she sighs, rolling her eyes. He can see her fighting to stay awake, but eventually she gives in. Her body curls up against his, her arms wrapping around his in a tight hug as she sleeps. Finnick can feel his eyes soften as he watches her, feel how his body relaxes when he knows exactly where she is.

He was so fucked.

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Cress woke up on the couch, blanket draped over her shoulders.

"Morning Birdie, sleep well?" Finnick asks. He was leaning over the counter, still shirtless. She sits up, crossing her arms over her chest.

"It wasn't bad, actually," she mumbles, her lips pursing at her admittance. She hadn't had the nightmare again, had the best sleep she's had since the end of her Games eight years ago.

"Good to hear." Finnick hands her a plate of eggs. "Here."

"Oh, you made me eggs?" she asks, taking it. "Thanks Finn, you really didn't have to."

"It's no problem, I don't mind." Finnick gives her a soft smile, watching her eat the eggs. Cress noticed the purplish tinge under his eyes, her brows creasing in concern.

"Finnick, are you okay?" she asks, scooting over so he could sit beside her. "You look.."

"Terrible? Yeah, I know," he sighs, sitting down beside her. He was manspreading and it was distracting her.

"What's wrong?" she asks. Her left hand mindlessly fiddles with the ends of her hair, curling it around the tips of her fingers.

"Just stressed about the Games," he says, avoiding her eyes. Cress' eyes narrow, her lips pursing. He was being evasive.

"Is that all?" she asks, her gaze focused on his. Instead of answering, he shoots to his feet and walks quickly back to his compartment, shutting the door. What's up with him, who shat in his coffee? Cress didn't have time to think about that right now, and she especially didn't have time to think about how damn good he looked, but that was all her brain could focus on. "Goddammit."

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"I want you to watch their Games." Haymitch sets two recordings of Games down in front of her and Peeta, one labelled 67 and the other labelled 65.

"Why?" Peeta asks.

"It's Cress and Finnick's Games," Katniss answers. "Why do we need to watch these?"

"Because they're both killing machines, sweetheart," Haymitch sighs. "They have some of the highest kill counts out of all the tributes, ever. Cress killed six people alone, not even including all the people that Finnick himself killed."

"We get it, they're deadly. If I'm being totally honest, though, Cress just doesn't seem like a threat," Peeta says, crossing his arms and leaning back. "I mean, she doesn't seem to have a particular skill set, unlike Finnick."

"Just watch." Haymitch rolls the tapes of Cress' Games, forcing them to watch. "She's an acrobat, incredibly flexible and surprisingly strong. She's also smart. You see the way she killed Morrel and trapped Cliff? She has that killing calm, she doesn't lose it while in the moment. The Pearl Princess is just as pretty as she is deadly."

"Well, what about Finnick?" Katniss asks, leaning forward. "How come he's so.. protective of her? She clearly doesn't need protection if what you're saying is true."

"Sweetheart, Finnick would bend over backwards for Cress if she so much as hinted that she wanted him to." Haymitch raises his eyebrows. "As for why he's so protective, well, that's a mystery to me. I want to reason with love, but there's no evidence to support that."

"I'd disagree, look at the way he's looking at her." Peeta points to the image of Cress and Finnick during the Reaping that was still plastered on the tablet that sat in front of him.

"That's what I'm saying," Haymitch mutters, to which Katniss rolls her eyes.

"Katniss, if she's his weakness then we've got to exploit that. Use her to win." Peeta glances towards her. "Whatever it takes, right?" Katniss stares down at the ground for a moment before raising her eyes to meet Peeta's.

"Yeah. Whatever it takes."

Chapter Text

To Cress' surprise, they'd gathered her old prep team to attend to her. Tazzel, Saffrin, and Sorrel all wandered into her room, Tazzel immediately attacking her with a hug. His hair was bubblegum pink now, no longer the icy blue it had been during her Games.

"Oh Cress, you look so grown up now, just look at you!" he wails, clinging onto her with all of his rather pathetic strength. "Oh but your hair is just the loveliest still, all nice and bronze! I'm jealous, I really am!"

"Hi Taz," she laughs.

"Tazzel, please, there are others who want to speak to her." Saffrin raises her eyebrows pointedly, which encourages Tazzel to step back and let Saffrin check Cress over.

"Hi Saffrin," she says softly. Saffrin's familiar pink irises meet hers as a smile spreads across her face.

"Hello Cress." To her surprise, Saffrin's arms wrap around her in a tight hug. "I've missed you."

"I missed you too Saffrin." Sorrel peels Saffrin off of her, giving her a one armed hug.

"You look good, Cress." he gives her a soft smile.

"I just can't believe you're really going back in, I mean, it's just so surreal!" Tazzel gushes as he starts washing her hair like he usually does.

"Tell me about it," Cress mutters, her brows scrunched up in a frown.

"One thing's for sure, you're going to be the most attractive pair of tributes in that whole arena." Sorrel smiles as Saffrin and Tazzel primp and prep her for the Tribute Parade. God, the Tribute Parade, she'd forgotten all about it. Last time she'd been in this position, she'd been a scared sixteen year old who had no idea of the world around now. Now she was a scared twenty three year old with a constructed image and an unrequited crush on her fellow tribute.

Cress gave herself fifty-fifty odds of surviving this Games. Her mind drifts back to a conversation she'd overheard on the train the other day about uprising in the districts. Apparently, they were rallying under Katniss' name, branding her the Mockingjay. That sounded one hell of a lot cooler than the Pearl Princess if she was being honest. She'd also talked with Finnick about the displeasure in the Capitol over the victor's being sent back into the arena.

"Cress, up and at em, it's time for your outfit." Sorrel's voice snaps her out of her thoughts as she sits up, wearing just a robe as she awaits his brilliant ideas. "This year, we're going princess and her bodyguard for you and Finnick." He shows her a sketch of a flowy gown that went past her ankles. It was a light ocean blue, with pearls embroidered into the waist and neckline. They once again gave her a crown of bone and pearls that resembled the one given to her during her first Tribute Parade, paired with white strappy sandals.

"It's beautiful," she says softly.

"Good thing you like it, because it's right here for you," Sorrel says, pulling aside a curtain to reveal the dress sitting there on a mannequin.

"Oh please, you know I love all of your work." Cress rolls her eyes, running her hands along the material. "Truly, Sorrel, it's amazing."

"I'm glad you like it, Cress, because Tazzel might've had a heart attack if you didn't," he laughs. "Now stand up, let's get this on you." Cress climbs up onto the platform, letting Sorrel do his thing as she ponders various things, like what Finnick would be wearing. How Katniss and Peeta would handle themselves. If she would have to kill Enobaria, who she had actually become rather tentative friends with during her years as mentor.

"Cress, you look simply perfect!" Tazzel exclaims as he runs back into the room to start on her makeup. "It's perfect! Perfect, perfect, perfect!" She's swept up by Hurricane Tazzel and plopped into the makeup chair as he chats at a mile a minute. Saffrin eventually saves the day, and Cress' ears, by taking over.

"We're doing a rather harsh look today. You're no longer the sweet innocent Pearl Princess, you've grown up. You're ready to fight, and you're ready to win." Saffrin gives her a wink as she starts on her makeup. She had a shimmery grey eyeshadow, stark black eyeliner, pink lips that were subtle as to not take away from the eyes, and her cheekbones had been accentuated with makeup to give her a harsher, more commanding appearance.

"No longer the Pearl Princess, but the Pearl Queen," Sorrel muses, a smile on his face.

"I like Pearl Princess better," Cress mutters as her face sours. "Pearl Queen doesn't sound as nice."

"You'll warm up to it in time," Sorrel laughs. "Now then, off you go. You have a parade to join." Cress gives each of them a hug before leaving. She heads down to the ground floor, where the other tributes waited with their chariots for the parade to start. When she'd last been here, most of the tributes had been glued to their carts and their district partner, but this time people were mingling around.

"Cress, you look good." Finnick's charming smile distracts her for a moment. So do his abs, actually.

"Wow, they really made sure to keep it revealing," she teases. He looked every bit the part of a bodyguard to a queen, from the subtle makeup on his face to make him look more rugged to the way his outfit had been designed.

"The ladies love the body." he shrugs. His eyes lock onto something behind Cress, prompting her to turn around. Katniss Everdeen, stroking the horse for her chariot, and Peeta Mellark who was approaching her. Before Peeta can arrive, both of them slide over to where Katniss was.

"Hello, Katniss," Finnick says smoothly as he pops a sugar cube in his mouth.

"Hello, Finnick." Katniss turns around and blinks in surprise when she sees the both of them there. "Cress."

"Hi Katniss," Cress says, giving her a practiced smile.

"Want a sugar cube?" Finnick holds out his hand to offer one to her.

"No, thanks. I'd love to borrow your outfit sometime though," she says, her wit making a brief appearance. That makes Cress snort as what Finnick was wearing could barely be called an outfit.

"She's got you there," Cress mutters, causing Finnick to roll his eyes. His attention remains on Katniss as their verbal spar continues.

"“You’re absolutely terrifying me in that getup. What happened to the pretty little-girl dresses?” Finnick asks, leaning forward slightly.

"I outgrew them," Katniss responds coldly. Cress wanders off to where Peeta was waiting for Katniss to finish up with Finnick, which looked like it wasn't happening anytime soon.

------------------------------------------------

Peeta felt her presence before anything else. She radiated an aura of absolute calm, her mind always calculating a new strategy.

He had severely underestimated just how intimidating Cress Bronzetide really was. Despite her being a bit shorter than him, he felt tiny next to her.

"Hello, Peeta," she says, her voice like ice water against his nerves.

"Hello, Cress," he responds, praying his voice doesn't betray his nerves.

"I must say, your stylist is simply excellent." she examines his outfit closely, her lips curling up at the corners.

"Thank you," Peeta mumbles.

"Oh, no problem. I just tell it how I see it." Cress shrugs.

"What's going on over here?" Finnick asks, having walked over to stand behind Cress like a guard dog. He was watching Peeta like he was a threat. Not to Finnick himself, but to Cress.

Now Peeta understood what Haymitch meant about Finnick 'bending over backwards for Cress'. He was just waiting for her to give him one sign that she was uncomfortable and he'd undoubtedly attack.

"Oh, nothing really. I was just admiring Peeta's outfit," she says. "I suppose we should get to our chariots, hm? Come on Finn." Cress saunters away, Finnick just a step behind her. Looking around, he could see that all of the other tributes were watching them as well.

The Pearl Princess and the Golden Boy.

Chapter Text

"Finnick, isn't Katniss gorgeous?" Cress asks, looking towards the District 12 chariot. Katniss Everdeen, the Girl on Fire.

"Huh?" Finnick blinks, looking surprised at her words. "Is she? I didn't really notice."

"You're the least observant guy I've ever met." she rolls her eyes, climbing up onto the chariot and taking her spot. Finnick gets in beside her. She doesn't notice, but he's glowering at any tributes who look her way.

"Ouch, Cressie, I take offense to that," Finnick sighs, putting his hand over his heart.

"Good," she snickers, causing Finnick to lightly hit her shoulder. "Hey now, easy on the goods. I need to look picture perfect, alright?"

"Yes ma'am." he gives her a mock salute, smiling all the while.

"They're staring, you know." Cress glances around at the tributes around her, most avoiding her gaze.

"Oh, I know. Isn't it great?" Finnick's smile changes into a smirk.

"You're way too cocky Finn." Cress rolls her eyes as the tributes start rolling out. "Game face, Finnick, game face."

"Of course." Finnick and Cress emerge from the dark area and onto the street, following the three chariots in front of them. The cheers of the crowd exploded when they saw them, then got louder. Cress glanced up towards the banner that had her face on it and saw that her crown was glowing, as well as her.. hair?

Tazzel had somehow slipped paper thin lights into her hair that made it look like her hair was glowing. Finnick hadn't been spared from the glowy lights either, the fishbone necklace around his neck glowing as well.

"Look at us, veritable glowsticks," Cress mutters, Finnick having to fight off a smirk.

"Don't make me laugh, sweetheart, you'll ruin our image."

"My mistake." Finnick grabs her hand, holding it tightly as the chariot continues down the path.

"Look at that everyone, Cress Bronzetide and Finnick Odair from District 4!" Caesar's voice echoes throughout the large area, bouncing off of the stone bleachers. "Oh my goodness, they're glowing! Literally! It's incredible, truly incredible!"

"Is it incredible?" she mocks under her breath, Finnick choking back a laugh.

"Cressie, seriously, I'm going to start laughing and then I'll look crazy," Finnick whispers. Cress' only answer was a wink as she turns back to the cameras.

"Finnick, Finnick, Finnick, Finnick!" the women in the crowd had started chanting his name loudly, the noise growing as more people joined in.

"Cress, Cress, Cress, Cress!" the males in the crowd had started up their own cheer, this one for the Pearl Princess herself.

"They've managed to whip the crowd into frenzy, folks, it's a competition out here!" Flickerman yells.

Finnick and Cress remain stone faced as their chariot carries them down the street, Finnick's hand moving to rest on her shoulder. A queen and her guard, both deadly but in different ways. Cress held the power, and Finnick held the strength. When the cheers reach their peak, Cress and Finnick's hands intertwine and are raised up to the sky, the chants of their names changing into something new.

"District 4, District 4, District 4, District 4!" Everyone who'd been cheering before was now cheering as one, the stands shaking from the people jumping up and down.

"It seems that the crowd has chosen their favourite district, 4 has won by a landslide!" Flickerman cheers. Cress, making a quick decision to further solidify their support, tugs on the necklace around Finnick's neck, treating it like a collar. The crowd roars, not expecting this from Cress, who'd usually portrayed herself as non-assertive. She leans in close to his ear, making sure only he can hear what she says.

"Follow my lead." Finnick gives her an almost imperceptible nod and she lets go of his necklace, the chariot stopping in front of the dias that President Snow would be speaking from in a few moments. The tributes were split between staring at Katniss and Peeta, who looked as if they were fiery wraiths, and Cress and Finnick, the pair of newborn gods. Cress notices how Snow's stare seems to be trained on Katniss, like he's speaking directly to her.

Mockingjay. Rebellion in 8. The memories flash through her mind as she continues to stare ahead, stone faced. A possible revolution was on the rise, Katniss seeming to be the figure head. What did this mean for her? For Finnick?

"May the odds be ever in your favour." Snow ends his speech in the same disgusting way as he did during her own Games, that stupid quote replaying over and over in her mind as the tributes do their final circle before being led inside. Cress tugged on Finnick's necklace again and he took that as a sign to wrap his arms around her waist in a protective gesture, making the crowd audibly swoon.

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Haymitch hadn't lied when he said that Cress and Finnick would be the biggest threats. They could put on a show, a show so convincing that they got the stands to cheer for them, and them alone. They had outfits that were on par with her own and Peeta's, rivaling their flames with their look of newborn gods.

"She's walking him like a dog," Peeta whispers.

"Jealous?" Katniss mutters in return, her eyes following Cress and Finnick as they disembark. Cress saunters off, Finnick following her like a guard dog that would kill anyone who got too close for his liking.

"Come on." Katniss grabs Peeta's arm, dragging him to the elevator with them. Haymitch falls in step with them as they climb in, joining Cress and Finnick. Before the doors can close, another person steps in as well.

"Hey, Johanna, how are you?" Cress' voice is the first to be heard in the cramped elevator as she greets the woman, who Katniss now recognized as Johanna Mason herself dressed as... a tree. A little on the nose if she was being honest, but it got the point across well enough.

“Isn’t my costume awful? My stylist’s the biggest idiot in the Capitol. Our tributes have been trees for forty years under her. Wish I’d gotten Cinna, or Sorrel. You both look fantastic," Johanna groans.

Johanna unzips the rest of her tree, letting it drop to the floor, and then kicks it away in disgust. Except for her forest green slippers, she doesn’t have on a stitch of clothing. “That’s better.”

"Really Jo, in front of the newbies?" Finnick asks, raising his eyebrows.

"Relax, nothing they haven't seen before." Johanna rolls her eyes.

"Your boobs are glowing," Cress snickers, pointing out how the light from Peeta's still glowing outfit is now reflecting off of her bare chest.

"Guess I've got a case of glow boob, huh?" Johanna and Cress giggle in the corner, Finnick watching them with a soft smile. A smile, that Katniss noticed, was directed at Cress.

Chapter Text

"Ready for training Cress?" Finnick leans over Cress as she sits on the couch, eating her parfait. "We get to see the tributes in action for once. I'm looking forward to seeing Katniss."

"Isn't everyone? I'm more curious about Peeta," she muses, absentmindedly giving him a spoonful of her parfait. "He hasn't really done much yet, no feats of strength or.. well, anything really. I wonder what he's got up his sleeve."

"Cressie, it's really not polite to talk about a man's biceps like that," Finnick teases, causing her to roll her eyes and stand up.

"You're such an ass, seriously, how do I even put up with you?" she sighs. "But let's talk allies." Finnick plonks down beside her, putting his chin in his hands as he thinks.

"Johanna," Cress says, and Finnick nods in agreement.

"Of course, we really need Jo if we're going to win. I'd also suggest Katniss and Peeta." Cress raises her eyebrows when he suggests that, seemingly hesitant to agree.

"Really? The newbies? They're crowd favourites for sure, but they don't really fit in with the victors just yet if you ask me. I think that we'd be driving away any potential allies if we chose to join them," Cress reasons.

"I see your point," Finnick mumbles, his hand tearing through his hair as he thinks. Cress, seeing the time, grabs his arm and starts dragging him towards the door.

"Come on, we've got to get to training," she says, prompting him to roll his eyes.

"Yes ma'am, will do." They walk down to the arena, joining the other tributes that were already there. Among the early crowd were Katniss and Peeta, who were watching them carefully, and Johanna, who immediately came over to them.

"Bunch of boring dingbats, hm?" Johanna muses, looking out around the room. "Look at them, old and decrepit. Addicts. Alcoholics. Fat."

"Johanna, be nice," Cress scolds, hitting her arm. Johanna rolls her eyes but relents, waiting to be let into the room. Once the doors open, Finnick and Cress split up and observe the other tributes. Both Cashmere and Gloss are adept with knives, Cress noticed, the siblings fighting in sync. The bonus of a blood relation, she supposed. Then there were Brutus and Enobaria. Brutus was big, bald, and rude as hell.

Cress didn't have the highest appreciation for Brutus. After scoping out the tributes for a while, she finally started on her own training. She found a platform with a catch bar that spanned over the whole of the arena, causing a big grin to break out on her face. As quickly as she could, she scaled the ladder and arrived at the top, enjoying the view. Everyone looked small up here.

There was Katniss, sitting at the ropes and snares area. She could see Finnick walking towards Katniss, probably about to ambush her or something ridiculous along those lines. Peeta was over at the painting station, why that had that station, Cress wasn't sure. Wiress and Beetee, from District 3, were trying to light a fire. They were failing, miserably. She could feel both Brutus and Enobaria's eyes trained on her as she gripped the catch bar tightly.

She took a deep breath, and leaped.

Cress soared high above the tributes, some looking up to spot her flying through the air. She went through her usual warmup routine, hanging by her legs, doing flips and leaps that left a few tributes gasping, and of course stretching out her limbs. As she was doing this, she didn't see Brutus and Gloss talking and glancing up at her out of the corner of her eye, but she paid them no mind. Cress was too focused on her trapeze, of course.

Finnick watched as Cress swung around on her trapeze, the way she arced through the air elegant and crisp in a way. Clean is likely the better word for it. Her body cut through the air like butter, in smooth motions that made it seem like time just.. stopped. He'd also noticed Brutus and Gloss, but he didn't think they'd be stupid enough to try something. He was right there, after all.

The next thing Cress knew, Brutus had launched a spear at the ropes that were suspending her catch bar. It almost seemed to go in slow motion, the image of the spearhead ripping through the intricately braided rope and unravelling it. Cress didn't feel scared, she'd fallen too many times to count when she was first learning the trapeze. She let herself fall, knowing exactly how she would land to prevent injury and hopefully to keep herself relatively unscathed.

He'd fucking thrown it! Brutus had thrown the fucking spear! Fuck! Finnick felt like he was frozen on the spot, watching Cress fall frame by frame. She looked beautiful, at least. Her bronze hair was splayed out around her, her eyes open and uncaring as she plummeted downwards, towards the rapidly approaching ground. Finnick regained mobility in his body, forcing himself to move when he remembered the looming possibility of Cress dying.

That was a possibility that he refused to accept. He started slow, then that walk turned to a jog, that jog turned into a run, and that run turned into a full blown sprint as he raced towards Cress, hoping, praying, that he would make it in time. She was so close to the ground, so close to death, oh god, oh god, Cress, no Cress!

He didn't make it.

Finnick Odair hadn't managed to save her, save his Cress.

But Peeta did.

There was Peeta, panting and out of breath, but holding a very much alive Cress in his arms. "That was quite a tumble, you okay?" Peeta asks her, and a quiet laugh emerges from Cress' lips.

"Not the first time that's happened to me," she mumbles. "Thanks for catching me, Peeta, truly."

"Just a regular Tuesday for me, you know, saving girls from falling to their deaths."

"Oh, I'm sure." Finnick immediately scoops Cress up and out of Peeta's arms, hugging her so tightly it might've cut off her air supply.

"I thought you were going to die," he whispers into her hair, burying his face in her shoulder.

"Well I didn't," she says quietly. "No thanks to Brutus apparently. God, what a dick." Finnick's expression of relief hardens into one of rage, his eyes locking onto Brutus.

While Brutus may be big, Finnick was still in his prime. Brutus, in comparison, was around forty and clearly on his way out. She could feel his arms tense around her, see the way his ocean like eyes narrowed in Brutus direction, promising pain.

"Finnick, no," she says softly. "He's not worth it."

"But you are."

Chapter Text

Cress glanced around the room, raising her eyebrows when she sees Johanna nude once more and oiling up for wrestling.

"Jo, what the hell are you doing?" she asks, wandering over to her.

"Oh hey Cress, nice fall earlier. Lover boy saved you, huh?" Johanna gives her a smirk, causing Cress to roll her eyes.

"You're naked. Again. Do you have something you want to confess?" Cress wiggles her eyebrows, smirking at the connotations.

"Oh yeah, just for you baby. Come here, gimme a kiss." Johanna puckers her lips, leaning towards Cress who shoves her away while giggling.

"You're so immature Jo, I swear."

"It's my thing, you know? You've got pearls, Finnick's got.. whatever he's got, and I've got nudity! Perfect balance!" Johanna grins at her like a cat that caught the canary.

"Oh my god, you're literally the worst, have I ever mentioned that?" Cress rolls her eyes at Johanna's constant stream of absolute bullshit.

"You love me anyway." she gives Cress an angelic smile, preparing to step onto the mat once more.

"Don't go easy on them, hm?" Cress waves and wanders off, heading over to where Katniss was sitting with Wiress and Beetee.

"Cress, cresting wave, rising tide, water," Wiress mutters when she sees her.

"Yes, hello Wiress, how are you?" Cress sits down beside her, Wiress immediately touching her hair and braiding it.

"Cress." Beetee nods to her, which she returns awkwardly thanks to Wiress trying to braid her hair.

"Katniss, how are you?" she asks, absentmindedly tying a knot from a rope she'd picked up from the knot station.

"Good, yourself?" Katniss had those cold eyes that the Capitol ate up, that sharp demeanor. Oh yes, Cress would have fun with her.

"Well after a near death experience earlier, I can't say I'm doing horribly." she shrugs.

"I saw. Brutus seems to be a little too eager for the Games." Katniss' monotone voice gets a laugh out of Cress, shooting Katniss that smile of hers that had won the Capitol crowds by a storm.

"Brutus is a little bastard who's mad because he's losing his edge," she mutters, flipping Brutus off.

"Well said," Beetee says dryly.

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"Finnick, so glad you could join us." Plutarch leaned forward, Haymitch at his side. Johanna walked in after him, thankfully fully clothed this time.

"What is this?" Finnick asks, frowning. The sentiment is repeated by Johanna, who sports a similar look of distrust.

"Relax. All will be revealed in good time," Plutarch says, motioning for them to have a seat. Neither take his offer, remaining standing.

"I'm here because you said I could protect Cress, and that's it."

"I'm here to kill Snow," Johanna chimes in, glancing around at the small gathering that Finnick now realized included both Beetee and Wiress, Chaff and Seeder, and some others that Finnick couldn't be bothered to remember.

"Plutarch, can you just get to the point?" Finnick interjects, frowning at him. "Why are we here, what do you want from us?"

"We'd like to propose an alliance, rallied behind Katniss. She would be the figure head, the Mockingjay." Haymitch leans forward, glancing around the room. "The districts want rebellion."

"And Snow wants all of you dead," Plutarch adds.

"Yeah he's an old bitter bastard, we get it." Johanna rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

"The point is, we want all of you working to keep Katniss and, by extension, Peeta alive. We need them to win this war, because it is coming. Fast." Plutarch glances around the room, looking over each tribute carefully. His gaze stops on Finnick, looking around him. "Where's Cress?"

"Not here," Finnick utters through his teeth. "I don't want her involved in this." Plutarch's eyebrows raise, noting the glare on Finnick's face.

"You didn't tell her, did you?" he concludes.

"No. I don't want her involved," Finnick repeats. "If we get found out, I don't want her associated with this.. whatever this is."

"I understand, I understand. Alright, fine, I'll let it slide." Plutarch puts his hands up, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Why aren't Katniss and Peeta here?" Beetee asks, frowning. "Isn't this about them?"

"We've decided to not involve them, to avoid suspicion."

"Yeah, probably for the better. I don't think Katniss can hold a poker face for crap." Johanna raises her eyebrows, daring someone to disagree with her. No one could, of course, as Katniss was like an open book. Her emotions were always written on her face, plain as day.

"You'd be right," Haymitch mutters. The rest of the meeting drones on for what feels like forever, so Johanna and Finnick naturally strike up a more interesting conversation.

"Are you really here just for Cress?" Johanna asks, cocking her eyebrow. "I mean, you don't have any other motives?"

"I just want to keep Cress safe and away from danger," Finnick says, a frown marring his face.

"Finnick, these are the Games. No one is safe here."

"I know, Johanna, but I'm doing my best. For her."

"You're so in love it's actually making me gag," she groans, and Finnick sits upright at that.

"I'm not in love!" he hisses, cheeks reddening.

"Oh yes you are. You, Finnick Odair, are in love with Cress motherfucking Bronzetide," Johanna snickers, poking his arm. Finnick swats at her hand as the blush intensifies, turning him into a veritable tomato.

"Shut up Johanna!"

"You're so blind, it's crazy."

Chapter Text

Cress watches along with the rest of the tributes as Katniss shoots down birds in the simulation, her aim perfect every time she knocked an arrow. She glances around at the surrounding victors, seeing the difference in their expressions.

Enobaria and Cashmere looked wary, while Brutus looked pissed. Cress can feel her fist clench at her side, wanting to throat punch Brutus as hard as she possibly could. She could see both Wiress and Beetee watching Katniss with an approving expression, though it was never easy to tell what Wiress was really thinking.

"I want her as an ally," Finnick repeats to Cress quietly, to which she rolls her eyes.

"Of course you do."

--------------------------------------------

"You're that good?" Haymitch asks Katniss, leaning forward with his eyebrow raised. "So good that Brutus wants you?"

"Well, I don't want Brutus. I want Cress, from District 4."

"Well she's a solid choice-" Haymitch starts, but Katniss interrupts him before he can finish.

"But I don't want Finnick."

"Well now, that's a problem," Haymitch mutters, sighing and putting his hand over his face. "You can't have one without the other, Katniss, Finnick would sooner let himself get mauled by a bear."

"Well I want Cress." Katniss crosses her arms, clearly not budging on this topic.

"Any other options? Any at all? You have your pick of the litter, sweetheart."

"Both tributes from District 3." Peeta's groan matched Haymitch's as they both gave her 'are you serious right now' stares.

"Of course you do," Haymitch sighs, knocking back a drink. "I'll tell everyone that you're still making up your mind."

"My mind is made up, Haymitch, I want them."

"You're very stubborn, you know that?" a smirk plays on Peeta's lips.

"I had no idea," Katniss mutters.

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Cress watches as Finnick trades Katniss, an hour of trident lessons for an hour of archery lessons. She tags along, just for kicks, and to watch how Katniss uses a bow up close. Definitely not because she wanted to watch Finnick wield a trident while shirtless, she would never.

Cress definitely wasn't ogling him the whole time, especially when he moved his arm back to launch the trident and his bicep flexed.

"Cressie, come here," Finnick calls her over, waving to get her attention. That snapped her out of her daze real quick.

"What's up?" she asks, glancing between Katniss and Finnick.

"Katniss here wants to know how you managed to hold on to that bar for so long with your legs." Finnick raises his eyebrows at the question, and Katniss flushes.

"No, I wanted to know how you managed to secure it so well," she corrects, frowning at Finnick before glancing at Cress.

"You want to know the knots I used?" she tilted her head.

"Yes."

"No problem. Once you and Finnick are done, come find me. I'll teach you." Cress offers her a smile.

"...Thank you," Katniss says quietly.

"No problem." Finnick smiles at Cress, putting his arm around her shoulders.

"Cress here is the best at tying knots."

"Way to feed my ego," she laughs, shoving his arm off of her shoulders.

"It's my job, sweetheart." Finnick flashes her a grin, causing her to roll her eyes.

"Alright sweet talker, get back to what you were doing."

----------------------------------------------------

It's time for private sessions, and no one is eager to go in. Cress overhears people joking about what they're going to do, hearing Johanna say that she'll just strip.

That idea was starting to sound better and better to Cress. She didn't have any exceptional skills, other than her trapeze skills, but she'd already shown them those.

Fuck.

"You look worried, Birdie, what's up?" Finnick is tearing into a chicken leg, but that didn't stop him from talking to her.

"The private sessions, I don't know what I'll do. I'm considering stripping at this point," she mutters, a frown marring her face.

"Let's not do that." Finnick leans forward, thinking. Or rather, Cress is going to believe that he's thinking. "I might just toss a trident around. That usually works."

"You're going to get a high score no matter what, Finn, the Capitol loves you."

"Hey now, don't sell yourself short. They love you too," Finnick points out. That was true, but she didn't exactly have the skills that Finnick did. She wasn't superbly attractive, she didn't have washboard abs, she wasn't built like a god. She was just Cress.

Soon, they start calling in the tributes one by one, starting with District 1. Cress watches as Gloss goes in first, then Cashmere. Brutus, then Enobaria are called. Beetee went in rather reluctantly, not wanting to leave Wiress behind. Then it was Wiress' turn. Then Finnick was called.

"Finnick Odair, District 4."

"See you on the other side, Cressie," he whispers and stands up, entering the room. The metal door slams shut behind him.

It feels like ages pass as she waits for them to call her name. Ten minutes. Fifteen. Then the door groans as it opens, the lady looking around the room with that bland expression of hers.

"Cress Bronzetide, District 4."

She stood up and walked through the door, hearing it slam shut behind her. She glanced around, seeing a bunch of dummies that have been impaled by something with three prongs. A trident.

In that moment, Cress decides what she would do. Grabbing one dummy at a time, she moves them to the center of the room and sets them up. She then finds the catch bar and sets it up, beginning her show. She dove off of the platform, gripping the catch bar tightly. In her mind, she heard the music that played during her act in the circus, heard the rise and fall of the music as she moved with the music.

She did her usual flips and free falls, catching herself expertly each time. Then, she hung by her legs. Reaching down to her thigh, she pulled a knife out of its sheath. She'd hidden it there when the Gamemakers weren't looking.

Her arm reaches out and slashes, slicing one of the dummies open. In methodical movements, she sliced open each and every one of the dummies. To finish off her performance, she dropped down onto one of the dummies and impaled his skull, looking directly at Heavensbee while she did it. She climbed off of the dummy and bowed deeply, maintaining eye contact the whole time.

"Thank you for having me," she says softly, her voice echoing throughout the room. Cress turned around and left, dropping the knife on the floor with a loud clang that resonated through the room.

Chapter Text

"How do you think you did?" Finnick leans over her shoulders, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders.

"I... have no idea," Cress sighs, closing her book in front of her.

"I'd bet you did great, Cressie," he said, ruffling her hair. "Now get up, sweetheart, we've got a real fun day ahead of us. We get our scores today, aren't you excited?"

"I'm oh so excited, I'm just bursting at the seams," Cress responds dryly, her eyebrows raising.

"Way to keep it positive, Cress," Finnick sighs, sitting down beside her. "So, what do you think you got?"

"Didn't you just ask me that?" she asks, a slight grin curling at the corners of her mouth.

"I asked it in a different way, there's a difference." he shrugs, giving her an angelic grin.

"I think I got at least a nine. An eight at worst." she taps her chin thoughtfully. "At best, I think a ten."

"Thanks, Finn, I try," she smiles in return. Finnick's cheeks go a bit pink, but he turns away before she could notice. "How do you think you did?"

"Oh, you know me. They can't resist my abs." he flashes that charming grin of his in her direction, causing her to roll her eyes.

"You didn't do that Johanna suggested and strip, right?" she raises her eyebrows, waiting for his answer.

"No, no, I did let them get a great view of my muscles though. The ladies really ate it up." he leaned back, taking a sip of water.

"I bet they did."

----------------------------------------------------

"Now coming up, your scores for each tribute! Let's start off with District 1, who have given us Cashmere and Gloss Tanner! Oh, how it hurts our hearts to see them in the Games once more knowing that they could be killed, but let's see if their scores will increase the odds!" Flickerman shouts, spooking Cress from her daze.

"Oh jeez, Finnick!" she shouts down the hall to where she thought Finnick was. "Scores!" A thump sounded, then a grunt. "You alright?"

"I'm fine!" Finnick shouts back. "Be there in a second! I'm kind of not dressed right now, sweetheart!"

"And next on, things I do not need to know," she mutters to herself, feeling her cheeks heat up. Why was he always nude? Does this man just never wear clothes?

"Gloss with a score of ten, with his sister close behind with a nine!" Flickerman announces eagerly, reading off of a small card in front of him. "Continuing to District 2, who have brought us the fearsome duo that is Brutus Gunn and Enobaria Golding!"

"You're missing it!" she shouts down the hall again. "He's onto District 2 now!" The door slams open and he rushes down the hall, vaulting over the couch and landing beside her. "Wow, very acrobatic of you."

"What can I say, I learned from the best." he winked at her before turning back to the screen.

"Wow, will you look at that? Both Brutus and Enobaria have gotten the incredible score of ten!" Flickerman practically shouts, Cress wincing away from the noise.

"Powerhouses," Finnick mutters to her, causing her to smile slightly.

"You'll do better, Finn, I know it."

"Of course I will, Cressie, I'm Finnick Odair for crying out loud."

"District 3, you know what that means! That's right, Wiress Plummer and Beetee Latier!"

"I'm calling a six for Wiress and a seven for Beetee," Cress muses.

"You know what, I think you just might be right." Finnick nods.

"They have respective scores of six and seven!"

"Bingo," she says, smiling proudly.

"Nice going, sweetheart."

"Now we're on to District 4, possibly one of the most, if not the most, exciting and recognised districts in there here Games! From District 4, we get our favourites, and yours, the one and only pair that is Cress Bronzetide and Finnick Odair!" Caesar's smile was so wide Cress was worried it would snap his face in half.

"Oh boy," Cress sighs, clearly nervous.

"Relax, Cressie, you're going to be fine," Finnick said softly. Caesar looks down at the card in front of him and his eyes go as wide as saucers.

"For Cress Bronzetide and Finnick Odair, a score of eleven."

"Look at us go," Finnick says dryly, taking a shot of what Cress believed was whiskey. She holds out her hand and he passed her a shot glass of her own. She downed it in one gulp, setting the glass back on the table upside down. After their scores were announced, Cress pretty much tuned Flickerman's voice out until she heard the words 'District 12'. Her eyes shoot back towards the screen, suddenly very interested in what their scores were.

Caesar, to her surprise, goes pale. Very pale. "Twelve."

Cress feels her eyebrows shoot up towards her hairline as she glances over at Finnick, trying to see if he'd heard the same words.

"Twelve?" Finnick exclaims incredulously, practically jumping out of his seat from the surprise.

"They both got twelves? What the hell?" Cress demands.

"Rigged. This shit is rigged," Finnick hisses, grabbing a glass and preparing to throw it at the wall. Cress puts her hand on his arm, forcing him to lower it.

"Finnick, breaking shit is not the solution here. You know as well as I do that the Capitol is trying to make them targets."

"Speaking of Peeta and Katniss, I want them as allies," Finnick says quietly. Cress blinks, once, twice.

"What?"

"Allies. Katniss and Peeta?"

"... You never fail to confuse me."

"You're so welcome, Cress."

------------------------------------------------

"Powerhouses, the both of them. What did I tell you?" Haymitch shrugs, raising his eyebrows at both Katniss and Peeta.

"Elevens. That's pretty damn close to our scores, Katniss." Peeta looks over at her with big eyes.

"What did they even do?" Katniss mumbles, running her hand through her hair. "What could they have done that was so wildly different from their first Games to earn an eleven?"

"I told you, they're wild cards here. Them and Johanna Mason, best allies to have."

"Well Haymitch, I think I'm starting to see your point. You know what I noticed the other day in the training area? Cress is built." Katniss raises her eyebrows at Peeta, not following what he was saying.

"What?"

"She's, um, muscular. Built?" Peeta coughs awkwardly.

"Oh yeah, Cress is actually a unit. She's been an acrobat since she was like eleven or something, Finnick told me all about her." Haymitch waves his glass in the air. "Very strong and well rounded, but still limited in the case of building muscle. Doesn't mean she couldn't throw someone like Wiress around like a ragdoll."

"I don't think I'd want to get thrown around by Cress. Ever." Katniss shudders.

"I don't think I would mind," Peeta mutters quietly before coughing. "I mean, yeah, me too." Katniss gave him a sideways glare while Haymitch snickers to himself.

"Real classy, Peeta, real classy."

Chapter Text

When Tazzel and Saffrin came to wake Cress the next morning, Tazzel burst into tears when he saw her, much to Cress' surprise.

"Tazzel, go cool off in the hall," Saffrin orders quietly, and Tazzel hurries from the room. "Apologies. Sorrel told us to keep it together for you, but you know Taz."

"Yeah, I know, don't worry," Cress reassures her, giving Saffrin a half smile. Tazzel's loud wails echo into the room, even from the hallway, which forces Cress to hold in a giggle at his hysterics. She knew it was wrong to laugh when he was so emotional over her, but it was kind of silly. Maybe it just hadn't sunk in yet for her that she likely wouldn't be seeing these people ever again.

"Now then, whatever are we doing with your hair?" Saffrin asks, holding up an armada of hair products and tools. "Sorrel has given me very specific instructions, so sit back, relax, and don't move a muscle."

"..Alright," Cress says, leaning back and letting Saffrin work her magic. After a few minutes, Tazzel re-entered the room and took up his spot on her opposite side. This lengthy process of doing her hair gave Cress ample time to think.

Time she really didn't need.

Memories that she had tried so hard to bury, memories from that fucking arena, burned through her mind. She saw the slit throat of that girl from District 8, the blood streaming from her neck. She saw Morrel, saw him face as her knife tore through his throat, Chrysa's agonized scream in the background. Chrysa's hateful glare as she fell from that tree, the sound of her neck snapping as she hit the ground. Velora's eyes dimming as the life poured out of her. Cliff's bloody, broken body on the ground as the knives cut through him.

Ferric, dying on her lap, his blood all over her. His eyes losing their life, that spark, his lifeblood everywhere but inside of him, but where it was supposed to be. A long shiver ran through her, her head twitching to the side.

"Cress! I said no moving!" Saffrin scolds, frowning.

"Sorry, sorry," she whispers, sitting back. "Continue."

"Thank you," Saffrin huffs, her hands going back to fiddling with her hair.

Another half hour passed before they finished their fussing, sending her off to see Sorrel, but not before they both crushed her with a hug. Taz went first, wrapping his stubby arms around her as tight as he could.

"I'm going to miss you oh so much, oh Cress, oh Cress!" he wails loudly.

"Taz, I would like to hug her something this century?" Saffrin says quietly, tapping his shoulder.

"Of course, of course," he sniffles, stepping away from her and letting Saffrin have her shot at the let's-crush-Cress'-ribs game.

"Do you best, Cress. We'll be watching from the audience, rooting for you," Saffrin whispers to her. "We're on your side, always."

"Thank you, Saffrin, Taz." she smiles at the both of them. "I'll do my best, alright? I better not catch you both crying over me, hm?"

"I make no promises," Tazzel laughs weakly. "Now shoo, Sorrel will have all of our heads if you're late."

"Bye, guys," Cress says quietly before she walked down the hall and towards the door, Tazzel's sobs following her no matter how far she got. She wiped a tear of her own while trying her absolute best to not mess up any of the work they'd done on her face and hair. Despite their ignorance, and despite their privileged lived in the Capitol, they had become close to her over the years of being her prep team.

Dammit, she would miss them.

"Hello, Cress," Sorrel says, smiling weakly at her. "How have you been?"

"It's been one hell of a morning, Sorrel," she sighs, welcoming his hug. "So, what do you have in store for me today?"

"I've decided to continue with the goddess era for you, playing up your regality if you will." Sorrel gestures to the dress behind him, and she gasped. It had flowing sleeves that went past her wrists, a tight waist that was surely paired with a corset inside that would absolutely strangle her, and a loose skirt that floated around her in soft waves. The front of the skirt was form fitting, while the rest almost seemed like it was floating. The front was covered in intricate, embroidered pearls that made beautiful patterns on the fabric.

"Holy shit." Cress feels her eyes go wide as she stares at the dress, before covering her mouth, her cheeks flushing pink. "Whoops."

"All good," Sorrel laughs, smiling at her clear enthusiasm. "Let's get it on, and then you've got an interview to get to."

It was painstaking and rough, but they got it onto her eventually.

"This is why we needed to much time," Sorrel grunts as he carefully adjusted the pearls on her crown before placing it on her head.

"Will I be able to sit down?" Cress asks, looking down at herself with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, yes, of course you will." Sorrel waves away her concerns with his hand. "Now look in the mirror."

She turned to look at herself, and had to do a double take. Was that really her? The makeup had made the angles of her face much harsher than usual, her lips painted a deep red that offset her hair and the dress itself. The crown on her head was another crown of bone and pearl, the pearls making it shimmer in the light.

"Wow."

"Wow indeed." He appraises her outfit with an expert eye, surveying every inch of her dress for potential flaws or mistakes. "Looks to be in good condition. You are good to go. But first, a hug for your favourite stylist."

"Sorrel, I could literally kiss you right now," Cress laughs, pulling him in for a tight hug.

"I'd advise against that, I'd like to keep my life." Sorret pats her back, kissing her cheek. "You look absolutely stunning. Now go show them what you're made of."

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She was practically shitting herself from how nervous she was. She'd done this before, but last time she'd been a stupid teenager who didn't understand what was happening. Now she was an adult who'd seen too many kids go through the interviews, and she knew exactly how interviews could affect their sponsors in the arena.

"Wow, Cressie, you look good." Finnick leans against the wall beside her, flashing her a winning smile. "I love the dress, you look fantastic." He's dressed like a guard again, for Cress probably. They seem very fixed on the whole 'princess and her bodyguard' thing that they'd come up with, but Cress couldn't deny that it was working.

"Thanks, Finn." She smiles back. "You look good too, but I think your stylist might have a little crush on you. I've been seeing a lot of your abs recently."

"Oh, not that you're complaining, of course." Finnick winks and Cress can feel her cheeks flushing red. He wasn't wrong, but she couldn't say that now!

"You're pretty full of yourself, aren't you?" She pokes his shoulder and he just smirked in response, which made her blush harder.

"Now everyone, please put your hands together for our next tribute! You all know her, you all love her, it's the Pearl Princess herself, Cress Bronzetide!" Her name was yelled and she was ushered over to the entrance to the stage. She took a deep breath, and walks out onto the stage, a practiced smile on her face. "Look at her, isn't she just gorgeous?"

"Hi, Caesar." She smiles, letting him kiss her hand.

"Hello, Pearl Princess!" Caesar's voice booms throughout the room, and the audience erupts into loud claps and cheers. "Now, I'm sure that you are very busy, but please, indulge me for just a moment here."

"Of course." She nods, crossing her legs and putting her clasped hands on her lap. "Fire away."

"Do you think you have a shot at winning these Games?"

"Of course I do. Finnick and I are clearly the dream team, so of course we're going to win." She's become a master at faking bravado, but this time it has an inkling of truth to it. She did believe, somewhere deep down, that they could potentially survive this.

"That's the spirit!" Caesar laughs, and the audience cheers. They were so easy to please. "What do you think of the Quell, what are your thoughts?" Cress felt a light bulb go off in her brain, and she forced a sad smile onto her face.

"Well, as you know, I've been taking care of Halle Amberfall ever since Ferric lost his life tragically in the games," she starts, looking down at her legs. "And then when Opal volunteered for the Games and died as well, there was no one left to take care of her but me. I just-" She felt herself getting choked up and had to keep herself from smiling slightly. Her plan was working. "I just can't take the fact that I'm going to be leaving her all alone."

The audience gasped, and she heard a few sobs from the more emotional members. It was then that she knew that it had worked. Sympathy was a victor's best weapon, and she'd just whipped out a sob story for the ages. But it wasn't enough.

"My sister, Junie, she's almost eighteen now. I'm so proud of her. And Annie, she's gone through so much these last few years. I don't know who's going to be there for them, now that I'm gone, but I hope it's someone they can trust. When-" She pauses, giving them a moment, before resuming her speaking. "If I survive the Games, through some miracle, I would happily continue to take care of them. But if I die in that arena, I'm entrusting them to the person that I trust the most."

"Well, Cress, don't leave us hanging! Who is it?"

"I would leave their care to Finnick Odair."

The place erupts into screams, some yelling for the Games to be called off, about how they couldn't separate them like this. Caesar managed to calm them down, but the buzzer went soon after.

"Well, I'm afraid that's all the time we have for today. It was so lovely to see you, Cress, and I'm sure the audience agrees."

"It's been my pleasure, Caesar." She grabs his hand for a shake. "It's been an absolute pleasure to know you." With those parting words, she exited the stage and once she was out of the spotlight, she let out a heavy breath. Thank god that was over.

"For our next tribute, he's a heartthrob all the from District 4, let's welcome Finnick Odair to the stage!" Cress watches the footage from the TV in the small room, her lips forming a small smile as she watched Finnick walk onto the stage.

"Hey, Caesar, how are you?" he asks, sitting down across from Caesar.

"I'm very good, but that's not the question the people want to know. You know what they want to know?"

"Do tell."

"Your plan for the Games."

"Oh, well that's an easy answer." Finnick smirks lazily, leaning back in his seat. "Get in there, kill anyone who gets in my way, and win." Caesar opens his mouth, but Finnick held up a hand. "And nobody is touching Cress. Not unless they want a trident through their chest."

Chapter Text

After the absolute chaos of the interviews, with Peeta dropping the bomb that was Katniss' pregnancy, and then the alliance of the victor's where they all joined hands, Cress and Finnick were sitting in silence, staring at the floor.

"Pregnant, huh?" Finnick looked over at her. "Do you buy it?"

"No," Cress answered without thinking. "She's not pregnant." Finnick blinked, like he wasn't expecting that answer from her.

"Why do you say that?" he asked, his brows furrowing.

"I can't explain it, but she just doesn't... seem pregnant. That's my best explanation for it." She shrugged her shoulders.

"If you say so." Finnick had a small smile curling on his lips, and Cress felt the beginnings of a blush creeping up her cheeks. She quickly sombered up as she remembered what was waiting for them tomorrow.

Death. Blood. Weapons. The fucking Arena.

"Hey, Cress, it's gonna be okay," Finnick said softly, putting his hand on her shoulder. Little did he know that Cress had already resigned herself to dying to let Finnick win. She didn't want him to die for her sake, and she knew that's how he'd go out, so she decided to die instead.

Simple.

"I know," she whispered back, looking up at him. "We're going to be fine."

They fell asleep, basking in the delusion that both of them would make it out when they knew that the Capitol needed a sob story for the ages. What better way than to have one of them dying and the other be broken about it? While Finnick slept beside her, both of them unable to sleep alone, she found herself wide awake and staring at the ceiling. If Finnick died, she didn't know what she'd do. How would she cope after Ferric's death, she couldn't lose Finnick too.

If she did, well, her mind might just break and she'd go insane.

No time to dwell on those thoughts though, she had to sleep.

An hour later, and she was still fucking awake. She'd even told her body to go to sleep, but it wasn't listening. She couldn't go into the Games tired, that would totally fuck her over! She rummaged around the desk beside her and found her sleep gummies, taking one of them. God she loved these gummies, but she didn't use them often. She had a chronic fear of addiction after watching her mother become a slave to alcohol, so she'd never resorted to coping using alcohol or morphling out of fear. She didn't want to become her mother.

She eventually passed out beside Finnick, inelegantly sprawled out in a starfish position, her one leg over Finnick's leg.

---------------------------------------------------------------

She's woken up by Finnick, who motions towards the door. Sorrel was standing there with Finnick's stylist, Cress couldn't remember her name for nothing, and he looked stone faced.

"Come on, Cress, rise and shine," he muttered, patting her shoulder gently.

"Five more minutes, Finn?" she mumbled, swatting weakly at his arm.

"No, Cressie, get up," Finnick said, a small smile on his face.

She reluctantly got up and followed them out, the impending dread of the separation from Finnick growing with each step she took. As they arrived at the hovercraft, Finnick pulled her into a hug. "See you in the Arena, Cressie."

"See you, Finn," she whispered, before she was tugged along by Sorrel, who seemed antsy. "What's wrong, Sorrel?"

"Nothing, nothing, just... come on." She looked back at Finnick, who was already watching her intently as she stepped onto the ladder. The electric current freezes her in place, and suddenly she's back to when she'd just won the Games, covered in blood, and frozen on that stupid ladder. She felt the doctor on the hovercraft inject the tracker into her arm, and she unfreezes, taking a seat and looking out the window forlornly.

Sorrel urged her to eat, to drink, but she could only manage a few bites before she felt absolutely nauseous. Taking a deep breath, she began to think of strategies for the Arena. Her and Finnick had already discussed their allies, she had the general idea of what would happen. She didn't know what the Arena would even look like, but she figured it would be catered to her and Finnick, so probably a body of water somewhere, a major one. Maybe a tropical setting, with a beach of some sort, that could help them out in the long run.

They arrived at the Launch Room and she followed Sorrel into the compound, sitting down on the table and staring at her hands as he gathered up her messy curls in his hands, tying it into a loose knot that hung at the base of her neck. He slipped a sharp knife from his sleeve and put it in her hair, securing the knot. Before she could ask, he answered.

"In case you don't make it to the cornucopia." He then helped her into her jumpsuit, this year a blue suit made of a sheer material, a sort of belt around the waist with a zipper that went up the front. She patted herself down to check for pockets of any kind. No such luck, however.

They sat in silence, Cress staring at the floor with a blank expression on her face.

"Cress, look at me." Her head jerked up and she met Sorrel's intense gaze. "You need to remember, alright?"

"Remember?" Cress tilted her head as she tried to understand what he was talking about. Before she could ask again, the tube opened, a sign that it was almost time for launch. She stepped into the tube and looked back at Sorrel, her brows furrowed.

"You need to remember who the real enemy is, you can't be blinded." She blinked, looking confused.

"Huh?"

"Just focus! Stick with Finnick, alright?" The platform began to rise, and she crouched down as the doors opened.

"Sorrel?" The Peacekeepers ran in, two of them, and one clocked the back of his head, knocking Sorrel out. "Sorrel! Sorrel!" The platform rose and she couldn't see him anymore, her breathing fast and shallow. What were they doing to Sorrel? Why did they knock him out? Oh God, oh God, oh fuck, this was bad, so bad.

The light hit her eyes and she flinched back, squinting to see in face of the blinding light of the sun. She adjusted, coming out of the dark tube, and she looked around. She saw Finnick first, and she felt a knot in her chest loosen when she saw him. Katniss was three people to her left, Peeta six to her right. Finnick was twelve people away on her right, and she can't say she really appreciated the distance. Brutus and Enobaria were two people apart, while Cashmere and Gloss were very close together, right beside each other.

She looked towards the cornucopia as the countdown started, taking in the loot. There was a bow, for Katniss, a trident, for Finnick, and a bandolier of knives that looked real pretty to her right now. She also saw an axe, for Johanna, but she couldn't see Johanna right now. She was probably on the opposite side from her. She saw a curved sword, maybe for Peeta? She had no clue what kind of weapon Peeta would use, but she imagined that it would be heavy.

Now she took in her surroundings. They were all on pedestals, in the center of a lake that had stones running through every two pedestals. She was beside Beetee, who seemed to be doing the same thing as her. It looked like a tropical setting; her guess had been right. There was a massive tree in one of the slices, separated by the stone lines, but she didn't see anything else that could help her out.

"Ten. Nine. Eight."

She clenched her jaw and prepared to dive. Her and Finnick had an edge her, they knew better than any of these tributes how to swim. They'd be the fastest in the water, but she wouldn't put it past the others to run along the wet rocks, no matter how stupid that was.

"Six. Five. Four."

She gulped, closing her eyes for a moment as she tried to focus on the sounds around her.

"Three. Two. One."

Chapter Text

Cress dove into the water and for a moment, there was silence. Pure, beautiful silence. Then she surfaced, and the sound of tributes fighting met her ears. She swam over to the island where the cornucopia was, pulling herself out of the water and pushing her hair back from her face. She noticed a few things at once.

Katniss had made it as well, she knew how to swim, something Cress hadn't expected. She'd grabbed a bow and was pointing it at...

Finnick.

Cress grabbed the bandolier and palmed a knife, prepared to throw it at her if she made the wrong move. God, he looked gorgeous all wet, but she wasn't supposed to focus on that. She moved quietly, creeping closer to Katniss and then around her to Finnick's side.

"Cressie, there you are." Finnick smirked, and Katniss' gaze cut to her, or more accurately, her knife.

"Hey." Cress looked Katniss up and down, her jaw clenched as she took in the sight. "Got a problem?"

"You can swim too," Finnick said, looking Katniss up and down. "Where'd you learn that in District 12?"

"We have a big bathtub," Katniss responded dryly, and Cress had to keep the smile from her face.

"You must," Finnick continued. "You like the arena?"

"Not particularly, but you both should. They must have it built especially for you." Katniss sounded bitter, and Cress couldn't blame her. The arena did give them a huge advantage, the training center didn't have a pool to learn or anything. A moment of silence passes, and Cress tenses up, ready to let her knife fly if she so much as made a move against Finnick.

"Lucky thing we're allies. Right?" He said, grinning at her wickedly. Cress saw her get ready to fire, and she felt her grip on the knife loosen in preparation. Suddenly, something catches her attention, and Katniss froze. Cress glanced down and saw a gold bracelet gleaming on his wrist. She felt for her hair and pulled out the golden handled thin knife that Sorrel had put in her hair. She looked between the knife and the bracelet, realizing that they were connected somehow.

After a moment of her deliberation, Katniss nodded. "Right." She lowered her bow, and Finnick's grip on his trident tightened.

"Duck," he ordered, and it was no longer his usual seductive tone but one that radiated power and authority, so much so that Katniss ducked without hesitation. His trident sunk into the chest of the male tribute from 5, Cress and Finnick now standing back to back as the tributes began to arrive at the cornucopia. "Don't trust 1 and 2."

Cress and Finnick are a whirlwind of deadly metal as they fend off the incoming tributes, one of Cress' knives finding a new home in a tribute's throat, the female from 6. She took it back and Finnick swung his trident at another, hitting them in the leg and back into the water. The cannon was booming repeatedly as the bloodbath carried on, and Cress took the opportunity to scan the piles for anything of use. She grabbed another bandolier of knives, some throwing stars that she thought looked cool, and a sword as a last resort.

"Do something about that, will you?" Finnick jerked his head at the approaching Brutus, who was using his belt as a sort of shield. Katniss took that on while Cress and Finnick geared up, Brutus eventually rolling back into the water.

"Let's clear out," Katniss said coldly, and Finnick nodded. The other Careers were approaching, and they still had to get Peeta if they wanted Katniss, since Cress would bet her life on the fact that Katniss wouldn't go anywhere without him.

Sure enough, she started sprinting towards Peeta, both Cress and Finnick hot on her heels as they rushed towards him. He was still standing on his metal plate, like he didn't know what to do. As Katniss prepared to go in and get him, Finnick stepped in and stopped her.

"I'll get him," he said, but he was too slow. Cress, having already dumped one of her bandoliers of knives onto the rocks, had jumped into the water and was swimming towards Peeta. "Cress! Fuck, Cress, come back!"

"I got it," she called, waving him off.

She was about to grab Peeta when another tribute tackled Peeta off of his pedestal, and she heard Katniss yell out Peeta's name. They went underwater, and Cress followed, her knife already out and ready to kill.

She saw Peeta first, trying to fend off the tribute, but he couldn't swim. She slashed the other tributes throat, the cannon boomed, and Peeta eyes closed. He was out of air. She grabbed him and began to haul him up to the surface, but he was heavier than her, much heavier than she could comfortably carry.

Cress gritted her teeth and continued to pull him up, the air forming bubbles around her as she struggled to get him out of the water and prevent him from, well, drowning.

Breaking the surface, she swam back towards the shore, Peeta in tow. The yells of both Katniss and Finnick met her ears as her strength gave out. She felt herself starting to slow down, her eyes closing from the exhaustion and lack of air, when suddenly there was a pair of arms around her, pulling her to shore.

Finnick.

Katniss hauled Peeta out of the water, immediately beginning to fuss over him, while Finnick stayed hovering over her, concern written all over his face.

"Cress, fuck, are you okay?" Finnick demanded, his hands cupping her face.

"Peeta." She pointed, urging him to help Peeta. "Help Peeta." She heard Peeta gasp and Katniss' happy exclamation, and she sighed, relieved. Peeta was fine.

"Peeta's fine, alright? Do I have to carry you?"

"No way," she muttered, sitting up. Finnick's hands went to her back, keeping her upright. "I'm fine, I'm fine." She stood up and almost immediately fell over. "Okay, not fine, not fine!" Finnick effortlessly scooped her up and into his arms. "If you put me on your back, I'm going to scream."

"Relax, Cressie, you aren't going on my back. Too easy for someone to get you." Finnick smiled down at her, but he was clearly worried about it. Katniss handed her the bandolier she'd left on the rocks, and Cress nodded in thanks. "Let's go."

They clambered into the dense jungle, Peeta leading the way and cutting through the vines with the curved sword that Cress had seen earlier.

"Alright, Finn, you can put me down now," she said, stretching in his arms. "I'm fine, I swear."

"That's what you said last time, and then you almost fell." Finnick raised his eyebrow, and she rolled her eyes.

"Worrywart," she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. Peeta was at the front, his long blade the most suited to cut through the vegetation. Finnick, though he was clearly the strongest out of all of them, was in the middle. His trident wouldn't be of much use out here, and he was still carrying her, which probably hindered him even more. Katniss took up the rear, but her arrows were about as good as Finn's trident out here in the thick of the jungle.

They stop for a rest, and Finnick, after a lot of insistence on Cress' part, finally sets her down. She stretched and watched as Katniss scaled the tree to get a better look at the rest of the arena.

"Warm out here," Cress commented, fanning her face with her hands.

"Yeah, it's soupy," Peeta said, looking around. Finnick spun his trident in his hands, lips pursed as he looked around.

"So, Katniss, you decided if you're going to kill me yet?" he asked offhandedly.

"I'm still deliberating if I want to kill you or Cress first," Katniss responded cooly, but Finnick's back tensed and his fists clenched. He whirled around and pushed her up against a tree, his gaze more intense than Cress had ever seen it. Peeta jumped to his feet, but Cress shot him a look and he reluctantly sat back down, his jaw clenched.

"You touch her, you die. Do you understand?" he hissed, and Katniss just stared back at him with an even gaze, but Cress could see the fear simmering in her eyes. She wasn't surprised that she was scared, Finnick could never be described as intense by anyone. Unless, of course, they were talking about looks.

"Finn, stand down," Cress said, putting her hand on his shoulder. "She was baiting you, alright?" Finnick shut his eyes and took a deep breath, the tension melting from his shoulders as he slowly nodded.

"You're right. You're right." He let her go and stepped back, taking another breath. "Alright, let's keep moving." Tension still simmered between Katniss and Finnick, both Cress and Peeta trying their best to keep the two from killing each other while the other wasn't looking, but it was truly an effort. Both of them knew that if one of them shot to kill, they had their sides already picked.

Alliances only lasted as long as they needed to, after all, and Cress wasn't sure if this one would make it to the end of the Games, or if it would end quickly and with someone dead.

She didn't say it out loud, but if one of them were to die, she silently hoped it would be either herself or Katniss. Peeta was a nice guy, or so she assumed from her limited interaction with him, she didn't want him to die, and Finnick...

Finnick dying was absolutely out of the question.

Chapter Text

They moved through the jungle, Cress sticking with Finnick in the middle of the formation. Peeta walked ahead, Katniss in behind. She noticed a slight limp in Peeta's gait, and her brows furrowed. Right, he'd had his leg replaced after his Games last year, he probably wasn't adjusted yet.

"Peeta, is your leg bothering you?" Cress asked, tilting her head slightly. "Do you want me to take over?"

"Yeah, but it's fine, I can take it." Peeta gave her a sideways smile, continuing forward. Cress pursed her lips but she didn't press any further, continuing in her spot beside Finnick.

"Pe-" Katniss started to say, her voice sounding panicked, but it was too late. Peeta's sword hit the invisible force field ahead and a loud zapping sound echoed as he was launched backwards, right into Cress. Before she could get knocked over, Finnick put himself between her and the ground, taking the brunt of the hit himself. Katniss rushed towards Peeta as Cress and Finnick struggled to their feet, slapping Peeta's face as if that would wake him up.

Immediately, Cress knew that his heart had stopped. He was motionless on the ground, and suddenly she was looking at Ferric's lifeless body. She stumbled back for a moment, covering her mouth.

Finnick managed to keep a level head, dropping down to Peeta's side and shoving Katniss away. He pinched his nose shut, and Katniss knocked her bow, with snapped Cress out of it. She grabbed Katniss' arms and held her in place, preventing her from firing.

"Calm down!" Cress gritted her teeth as Katniss struggled to escape her grip, thrashing in her arms wildly. "He's not killing him, look!" Katniss froze when Finnick lowered his lips to Peeta's, pushing air into his lungs and getting them to move. Cress let her go as Finnick unzipped Peeta's uniform, beginning the chest compressions. The seconds drag by ever so slowly, and the hope had started to leech from Katniss' expression.

Then there's a cough, and Finnick sat back, taking a deep breath. Katniss dumped her weapons into the dirt as she scrambled towards Peeta's now breathing form. "Peeta?" Her voice shook as she cupped his face in her hands.

"Careful," Peeta mumbled. "There's a force field up ahead."

Katniss laughed, but there were tears running down her cheeks.

"Must be a lot stronger than the one on the Training Center roof," he said, coughing. "I'm alright though, just a little shaken."

"You were dead! Your heart stopped!" The words sounded like they were ripped out of Katniss' chest before she clamped her hand over her mouth, awful, choking sobs smothered by her hand before they could begin. Cress glanced over at Finnick, thinking about how she'd probably have shut down already if Finnick's heart had stopped. His hand gripped her's, and Cress forced herself to let out even breaths. Finnick was fine. Peeta was fine. Katniss was fine.

"Well, it seems to be working now," Peeta said softly. "It's alright, Katniss." She nodded, but her sobs never stopped. "Katniss?" Peeta's voice took on a more worried tone.

"It's okay. It's just her hormones," Finnick said, and both Katniss and Cress looked over at him. "From the baby." He was still on his knees from the effort of keeping Peeta alive, panting from a combination of the heat, effort, and the climb.

"No. It's not-" Katniss began to insist, but she was cut off by another, more hysterical round of sobbing that seemed to just confirm what Finnick had said. His eyes met hers, and she glared up at him through her tears. Finnick's expression wasn't smug or sarcastic, but quizzical. And she was pretty sure that she had the exact same expression on her face. Both of them looked between Katniss and Peeta, then they glanced at each other, communicating without words.

"How are you?" Finnick asked Peeta, breaking the silence. "Do you think you can move on?"

"No, he needs to rest," Katniss said immediately.

"So you want to make camp here?" Finnick raised an eyebrow, and Cress crossed her arms, skeptical about this place. Uncovered, no water, nothing to hide them from other tributes? Not the greatest area.

"I don't think that's an option," Peeta said, shaking his head. "Staying here. With no water. No protection. I feel all right, really. If we could just go slowly."

"Slowly would be better than not at all." Finnick helped Peeta to his feet while Cress helped Katniss out, wiping the tears from her cheeks with her sleeve.

"I'll take the lead," Katniss announced, and Peeta turned to her with a doubtful look. He began to object but Finnick cut him off.

"No, let her do it," he said, narrowing his eyes at her.

"You knew that force field was there, didn't you? Right at the last second, you started to give a warning?" Cress tilted her head at Katniss as she spoke, her gaze unnervingly perceptive as she stared at Katniss. When she nodded, Cress continued, "How did you know?"

She watched Katniss hesitate, her lips pressing together into a thin line like she was weighing how to answer. “I don’t know. It’s almost as if I could hear it. Listen.” They all became still. There’s the sound of insects, birds, the breeze in the foliage.

“I don’t hear anything,” said Peeta.

“Yes,” Katniss insisted, “it’s like when the fence around District Twelve is on, only much, much quieter.” Everyone listens again intently, except for Cress, who just zoned out. “There!” I say. “Can’t you hear it? It’s coming from right where Peeta got shocked.”

"I don't hear it either," Finnick said. "Cress?" She shook her head. "But if you do, then by all means, take the lead."

"That's weird," Katniss said, turning her head to the side. "I can only hear it out of my left ear."

"The one the doctor's reconstructed?" Peeta asked, and that got Cress' attention. Her gaze picked Katniss apart, and she came to the very simple conclusion; Katniss was lying. Not about the force field, she'd definitely known that was there, but about her ear. She couldn't hear them, she had a different way of spotting them.

"Yeah," Katniss said, then she shrugged a little too casually. “Maybe they did a better job than they thought. You know, sometimes I do hear funny things on that side. Things you wouldn’t ordinarily think have a sound. Like insect wings. Or snow hitting the ground.” Cress rolled her eyes and Katniss took the lead, followed by Peeta, then Cress, then Finnick bringing up the rear.

Katniss was tossing nuts at the force field, but she always looked mildly surprised whenever one got burnt and crumbled to the ground, solidifying Cress' theory that she was lying about hearing the force field. After around an hour of walking, Katniss called a break. Probably a good thing, because Peeta was so covered in sweat that his whole face was shining. Katniss began to climb up a tree, and Cress felt tempted to do the same, but she hadn't climbed a tree in a very long time.

Not since her Games.

She took a deep breath and sat down, Finnick standing directly behind her as he watched for threats. Her mouth felt like it was filled with sand, she was so thirsty. After a few minutes, Katniss had clambered back down, panting slightly.

“The force field has us trapped in a circle. A dome, really. I don’t know how high it goes. There’s the Cornucopia, the sea, and then the jungle all around. Very exact. Very symmetrical. And not very large,” she reported.

"Did you see any water?" Finnick asked, noticing how much they'd all sweated.

"Only the saltwater from where we started the Games," she said, and Cress let out an audible groan.

"There must be some other source, or we'll all be dead in a matter of days." Peeta frowned. In search of water, a rather futile one if Cress was being honest, they climbed a few hundred yards down the slope. By midafternoon, Peeta looked like he'd drop dead if they kept moving. They set up camp, Peeta frying some nuts on the force field before tearing off the burnt shell, leaving only the meat. He placed them on a leaf beside him. Meanwhile, Finnick and Cress were busy weaving together mats for them to sleep on.

"Cress, Finnick, can one of you stand guard?" Katniss asked. "I'm going out to search more for water." Peeta opened his mouth, but she cut him off. "Don't worry, I won't go far."

"I'll go too," Peeta said, but before Katniss could tell him no, Cress began to speak.

"Peeta, you look like you'll drop dead if you don't sit down and rest. If I have to knock you out, I will." She crossed her arms over her chest, daring him to say anything against it.

"I won't be long," Katniss promised when she saw his disappointed expression before she took off into the thick of the jungle. Cress smirked.

"Besides, now you get to spend time with me and Finn. Aren't you excited?"

Chapter Text

hey guys, i'm alive!

so i know i haven't updated in a while, and i'm super sorry about that, but i've just been so low on motivation recently. hoping to get back into this soon (when my girlfriend starts reading it maybe) and i hope you can forgive me for the very very bad delay in chapters.

i also wanted to just quickly say thank you so so so so so so so so so SO much for 100 kudos on this fic, it actually means so much to me you have no idea <3333!

i hope to be back super duper soon, so i'll see you guys then!

toodles,
Vishap

Edit: nevermind chat she broke up with me

Chapter Text

Peeta watched as Cress and Finnick weaved mats and transformed them into huts for the four of them, his focus on how the two of them worked so in sync. Cress weaved at a ridiculous speed, her fingers flying over the thick palms as she made the mats, before she'd hand them to Finnick, who'd bend them into shape.

Somehow managing to finish that before Katniss returned, they started on bowls, which they handed to Peeta to be filled with roasted nuts. He was the nut cooker, the name bestowed by Finnick himself, which wasn't a dignified title in the slightest.

"Katniss!" Cress' head jerked up at the sound of Peeta's call, seeing the girl approaching with a skinned, oversized rat in her arms. She scanned Katniss for any sign of water, and she felt her lips purse when she realized that there was none.

Katniss shook her head, her own face set in a disappointed frown. "No. No water. It’s out there, though. He knew where it was." She held up the now dead rat. "He’d been drinking recently when I shot him out of a tree, but I couldn’t find his source. I swear, I covered every inch of ground in a thirty-yard radius."

"I'll go," Cress volunteered, raising her hand, but Finnick shot her a look that clearly said 'over my dead body'.

"Can we eat him?" Peeta asked, pointing to the rodent in Katniss' arms.

"I'd say so, it's pretty similar to a squirrel's meat, but we definitely need to cook it somehow..." Katniss trailed off, deep in thought. Finnick and Cress glanced at each other, both of them unsure of what to do. They couldn't build a fire in such a confined arena, they'd be found immediately, but it's not like anything else was currently on fire.

Peeta took matters into his own hands, grabbing a cube of rodent meat and skewering it onto the tip of a pointier stick. He jabbed it against the force field, and with a sizzle, the stick launched back from it. The chunk of meat on the end was blackened, charred on the outside, but well done on the inside.

"Nice going, kid," Cress said, punching his shoulder with a grin. Peeta flushed, giving her a smile in return as he set the piece of meat into one of the bowls her and Finnick had fashioned. They sat around their makeshift campsite, eating cubes of meat and roasted nuts, which wasn't the worst meal she'd ever eaten.

Finnick asked poor Katniss so many questions about the rodent, dubbed the tree rat by the four of them, asking about what it was doing, how high it was, even how long she'd watched it before she fired. Meanwhile, she was chatting with Peeta over a bowl of nuts, like dignified humans.

"Okay, Finn, I think you've gotten all the information you can get out of Katniss," she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. Finnick relented, settling back beside Cress with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Hey, Cress, what was your arena like?" Peeta asked curiously, leaning forward. "It was a maze, right?"

"Yeah, a maze." She nodded, the bronze of her hair dulled in the moonlight. "It was made of tightly packed trees and paths, along with a lake and a few caves." Her eyes darkened as she remembered the cave she'd spent so much time in, the sound of laughter echoing off of the cold stone walls.

"What about you, Finnick?" His attention turned to Finnick, inquiring eyes on the tanned man beside Cress.

"Bamboo landscape with huge waterfalls everywhere," he said shortly, and the conversation died out as the moon rose higher, the night bringing a new sense of tension and anxiety. The sky brightened as the seal of the Capitol appeared, and Cress stared down at the ground, refusing to see the faces of those who'd died in vain. When she heard the anthem again, she finally glanced up, and Finnick put his hand on her arm, causing her to glance at him.

"Eight," he whispered softly, and she nodded. If that parachute hadn't arrived when it did, they likely would've been sitting in those exact spots for hours. The beeping parcel lowered to them, and all four of them just stared at it.

"Peeta, you almost died today, you do the honors," Finnick said dryly, and Peeta reluctantly grabbed it, showing them the object it carried. It’s a hollow metal tube, tapered slightly at one end. On the other end a small lip curves downward.

"What the hell is that?" Cress asked, squinting at it. "It looks like some weird torture device."

"I don't think they'd send us a torture device, Cressie," Finnick said, giving her a bemused look. Peeta tried to use it like a whistle, seeing if it made any noise, then Finnick peered through it, sliding a finger through the tube to see if it was a weapon after all.

After many attempts to figure it out, they gave up, Katniss sticking it into the dirt and sitting back with a huff. Peeta rubbed her back while Cress practically collapsed against the mat she'd woven for herself, her eyes immediately closing. Unfortunately, with an absence of background noise, all she could focus on was how thirsty she was. Her throat felt like it was on fire, and her body was so worn out from all of the movement.

She was in great shape, but it was still an adjustment to go from working out for a few hours to almost constant exertion. She felt someone slide onto the mat next to hers, and her eyes fluttered shut, her body instantly relaxing.

"A spile!" Katniss' cry broke through the tense silence of the night, both Cress and Finnick jolting upright, his arm in front of her body, trying shielding her from any threat.

"A what?" Cress asked, feeling even more like garbage now that she'd been woken up mid doze.

"It’s a spile. Sort of like a faucet. You put it in a tree and sap comes out," Katniss explained quickly as she wrestled the object from the ground, glancing around at the trees. "Well, the right sort of tree."

"Sap?" Cress and Finnick had matching expressions of confusion plastered on their faces.

"To make syrup," said Peeta. "But there must be something else inside these trees." They were all on their feet within the second, driven by thirst, as Finnick moved to drive the spile into a tree with a rock, but Katniss stopped him, shaking her head.

"That could damage it. We need to make a hole first," she said, and Cress scrambled to hand Finnick a knife from her bandolier. He drove it into the tree as hard as he could, the blade buried up to the hilt, as both men started to attack it with knives, widening the hole. Once it could hold the spile, Katniss wedged it in, and they all watched with anticipation. Cress could feel her heard pounding like a drum in her chest, both nervous and excited.

After a few tension filled moments, a drop rolled out and onto Peeta's palm. He licked it and nodded, his eyes sparkling. Katniss nudged it around until a thin stream of water was pouring from it, the four of them taking turned drinking from the makeshift tap. That water was, quite possibly, the best thing that Cress had ever put into her mouth. Though that could've been the dehydration talking.

Both her and Finnick took on the task of filling up their bowls with water, making sure they had some for when they got thirsty later. With their thirst out of the way, they were all struck by exhaustion.

"I can take first watch," Cress offered, but Finnick shot her a look.

"Like hell you are, you need to sleep," he said, frowning.

"I can do it!" she insisted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Go to sleep, Cress, you almost drowned earlier. Sleep. Now." With a huff, she walked back to her mat and collapsed, staring into the jungle around them. She heard rustling and the sound of someone trying to be quiet as he sat down on the mat beside her. Finnick, of course.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," he whispered, staring down at her. She rolled over, cracking open one of her eyes to look up at him.

"I'll try my best, but only if you do the same." She gave him a half smile as her eyes slipped shut again.

"I'm serious, Cress," he said, his hands reaching out and gripping her hand tightly. "You almost drowned right in front of me, and I was powerless. I almost watched the woman I love die, and I couldn't do anything about it." His eyes widened as he processed what he just said, and he jerked his head to look down at her, to gauge her reaction.

She let out a soft snore, rolling over to her other side.

He let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders losing their tension as he leaned back against his own mat.

He'd never said it out loud before, never let himself define how he felt about the beautiful girl with the bronze hair, and now that he had, he felt...free.

Finnick Odair loved Cress Bronzetide.

He loved her.

Chapter Text

Cress was jarred from her sleep as the long, loud sounds of a gong rang through the arena, sounding like the Justice Building on New Years. Finnick was hovering over her, trident gripped tightly as he glanced around. Katniss was also awake, using her hands to prop herself up with a confused expression on her face.

"What was that?" she asked, her eyes bleary as she sat up.

"I counted twelve," he said, ignoring her question completely, still placing himself in front of her as a human shield.

"Mean anything, do you think?" Katniss asked, frowning into the darkness. As her gaze passed over Peeta's still sleeping form, it softened momentarily.

"No idea," Finnick said, and Cress could hear the undertone of frustration in his words. The three of them wait for further instructions, maybe a message from Claudius Templesmith. An invitation to a feast. The only thing of note appears in the distance. A dazzling bolt of electricity strikes a towering tree and then a lightning storm begins. An indication of rain, of a water source for those who lack sponsors or critical thinking?

"Go to sleep, Finnick. It’s my turn to watch, anyway," Katniss said, and the reluctance written all over his features was obvious. Katniss gave Cress a look, to which she nodded.

"Finn, come on," she said, patting the mat beside her. "No one can stay awake forever, not even you." After another moment of hesitation, he laid down to her right, his trident gripped tightly in his hand as he fell into a restless sleep. Cress felt her heavy eyelids fall shut, and she surrendered to the sleep that beckoned her.

Images flashed through her mind, one after the other. Jaycee, crying over her brother's bedside as her mother conversed with the doctor. Junie, trying to keep their mother in line as she drank herself to sleep once more. Annie, crying in the corner of her bedroom as she clung to Cress' blanket.

Searing pain, like thousands of needles being shoved into her skin, erupted on her back, arms, and legs, and her eyes snapped open, a scream searing her throat as she slid off of the small hill she'd been sleeping on.

"Run!" Katniss was yelling, crawling backwards, away from the slow-creeping pinkish fog that approached them like a wall. "Run!"

"Finnick!" Cress yelled, her eyes wide as she stumbled to her feet. The feeling of blisters erupting on her back was intense, overpowering everything else. She barely even felt it as Finnick put her on his back, her legs hooked under his arms as he took off deeper into the jungle. The next few minutes were a haze, the pain actually knocking her out briefly before she woke up again.

Her back had begun to spasm, twitching uncontrollably as she lifted her head. Or rather, tried to. It was mostly unsuccessful.

"It’s no good. I’ll have to carry him. Can you take Cress?" Finnick was asking, his voice fading out.

"Yes." Cress vaguely felt herself leaving Finnick's back and being placed onto someone else's, likely Katniss', before they began running again. Katniss fell once, twice, forcing herself upright both times, but when she fell for a third time, Cress rolled off of her back and down the hill, groaning softly as she went.

"It's no use," Katniss said, her voice getting louder. "Can you take them both? Go ahead, I'll catch up."

"No," he said, and she heard the slight tremble in his voice. "I can’t carry them both. My arms aren’t working."

"I can walk," she said, stumbling to her feet even as her legs twitched and her arms jerked in all directions.

"Cress, no-" Finnick started to say, but she'd already began to hobble, her vision blurred and her limbs unreliable as she trekked through the jungle. Finnick was directly ahead of her, Katniss lagging behind slightly as they moved as quickly as they could.

Every step was agony, the fog ripping her skin to shreds as her nerves were fried, her entire body just a twitching mass of flesh that happened to be semi-mobile. Until it wasn't.

Collapsing onto the jungle floor, Cress couldn't will her body to move anymore. Her arms were writhing around like snakes, her legs twitching and flailing wildly. Finnick crumpled beside her, reaching out to grab her hand, with Peeta still on his back. Katniss tripped over their bodies, her body not fighting gravity as she fell into a useless heap on the ground.

Would this be how she died? In this fucking arena?

Too tired to care, Cress closed her eyes, potentially for the last time, as the darkness overtook her senses.

"Hey, come on, wake up," a soft voice said, a firm hand rubbing her shoulder as her eyes slowly opened. The brightness hit her first, her pupils contracting heavily as she sat up, glancing down at her hands. No blisters. No seizing limbs. Nothing. Cress glanced around at her surroundings, her eyes widening. Gone were the looming trees and stuffy, sweltering air of the jungle, replaced by the fluffy clouds that floated through the sky without a care, the pearlescent sand beneath her, the turquoise waves that lapped against the shore, and the squawking of seagulls in the distance.

"What the hell..." she muttered to herself as her gaze landed on the man next to her. A strangled sound forced its way out of her throat as Ferric smiled at her, the wind blowing his dark hair back from his face.

"What, the waves lull you to sleep?" he teased, leaning back in the sand as his hand came up to shield his eyes.

"Come on, you know Cress," the voice of her sister cutting through the air as Cress whirled around, her eyes widening even more if it was possible. Junie was bounding towards them with a bright smile, Opal Amberfall and Annie Cresta trailing behind her. "If she isn't swimming, she's sleeping."

"And if she isn't sleeping or swimming, she's with Odair," Opal said dryly, slinging her towel over her shoulder. "It's gross, really. You two are so gross."

"Like you aren't the same with Junie," Finnick's smooth tone said as he sat down on Cress' other side, arm slung over her shoulders. "It's like the world will explode if you leave her side for longer than three seconds."

It was only then that Cress noticed the fact that Junie and Opal were holding hands, the latter's grip tightening at Finnick's words.

"Point taken," she muttered, tugging Junie towards the water with a smile. Cress felt like her brain was melting out of her ears as she took in everything happening. Ferric was alive, so was Opal, and she was dating her sister? And Cress was dating Finnick? What was this?

"I can't believe we graduate this year," Annie sighed, licking a cone of something that looked creamy, like whipped cream, but it was melting all over her hands. "I mean, come on, we're already seniors?"

"Seniors?" Cress asked, completely bewildered.

"Yeah, we'll be off to college, just like you." Annie nodded, her eyes bright with excitement. What the hell was college? She glanced at all of them like they'd lost their minds, their weird behavior combined with the fact that Opal and Ferric were alive fucking with her mind. "Cress? Cress?"

The voice that came out of Annie's mouth was definitely not hers as she looked at her with concerned eyes.

"Cress, wake up." The world turned into a blur of colours, everyone's smiling faces fading as it went back, her eyes snapping open to the dark, jungle leaves above her head. Pain radiated through every part of her body as she groaned, her surroundings coming back into focus slowly.

A battered Finnick was kneeling over her, his eyes raking over every inch of her face. "She's awake!" he said, and two other people loomed over her, Katniss and Peeta. "Holy shit, Cressie, you scared me," he muttered, pulling her up into a hug. Her limbs felt like jelly, limp and useless, but she awkwardly slung an arm over his back in an attempt to return his tight hug. At least now they were still, no longer thrashing.

"My bad," she coughed out, wincing at his grip. "Alright, too tight, Finn."

"Guys," Katniss said as Finnick released her so quickly one might think she was on fire, the both of them turning towards Katniss. "Monkeys." All of their eyes turn up towards the trees, Cress making a conscious effort not to gasp at the sea of orange-furred creatures above their heads. There must have been dozens of them, all standing on branches watching the group in silence. "Move towards the beach, quietly."

No one protested, all four of them slowly moving backwards through the jungle terrain, but when one of the monkeys adjusted itself on the branch, their composure cracked. Finnick grabbed Cress and immediately took off, which spurred the monkeys to roar, shooting down from the trees at unnatural speeds like orange, furry bullets. Katniss and Peeta tore after the pair, Katniss knocking down monkeys like flies with her bow.

Cress, still in Finnick's arms, speared the screeching monkeys who got too close like fish using Finnick's trident, suddenly appreciating the length of the weapon with newfound gratitude as she knocked monkey after monkey down. The air grew heavy with trampled plants, the scent of blood, and the musty stink of the monkeys. All she heard was Katniss' yell as a monkey leaped at Peeta, the desperation on her face clear. Her quiver was empty.

As Peeta braced for impact, the creatures fangs bared, when seemingly, a miracle occured. Materializing, it seemed, from thin air. One moment nowhere, the next reeling in front of Peeta. Already bloody, mouth opened in a high-pitched scream, pupils enlarged so her eyes seemed like black holes. The insane morphling from District 6 threw up her skeletal arms as if to embrace the monkey, and it sunk its fangs into her chest.

Peeta dropped the sheath and buried his knife into the monkey’s back, stabbing it again and again until it released its jaw. He kicked the mutt away, bracing for more. Katniss had his arrows now, a loaded bow, and Finnick and Cress at her back, breathing hard but not actively engaged. “Come on, then! Come on!” shouted Peeta, panting with rage as he stared the monkeys down.

But something had happened to the monkeys. They were withdrawing, backing up trees, fading into the jungle, as if some unheard voice called them away. A Gamemaker’s voice, telling them this was enough.

"Get her," Katniss said to Peeta, jerking her head in the direction of the fallen morphling, her bow still raised. "We'll cover you." Despite her arms feeling like they could fall off at any second, she raised the trident once more. But except for the orange carcasses on the ground, the monkeys were gone.

Peeta took the morphling into the lake and Katniss followed, Cress and Finnick staying on the beach as they watched the two comfort the dying woman. Finnick put her down, reluctantly, and she immediately sat down on the sand, her legs trembling far too much for her liking.

Finnick sat down beside her, staring out onto the water blankly as he scratched his arm, the blisters no longer oozing blood like they were earlier. Cress looked down at her own arms, noticing the redness of her skin with a frown as she realized just how itchy it was.

The sound of the cannon distracted her, pulling her out of her thoughts as she looked out towards where Peeta and Katniss stood in the water, looking down at the morphling who'd taken her last breaths. Another tribute, gone.

She felt a shiver go down her spine, her brush with death still fresh in her mind. Cress had defied the odds so far, but would she really be able to make it until the end?

Chapter Text

A wedge of the jungle began to vibrate, grabbing Cress' attention from where she sharpened her knives. An enormous wave was cresting over the hill, topping the trees and roaring down the slope towards the sliver of beach. She could see branches and rocks swept up in the torrent, carried down the slope and into the seawater of the awaiting pool with such force it bubbled beneath her feet, setting their few items on shore afloat. Her pants were wet now, which was definitely an irritant.

Picking up her stuff, she moved back closer to the treeline, hoping to avoid the water getting on her knives and lapping further at her now damp pants.

A cannon fired and the hovercraft appeared, sending the metal arm down to collect the fallen body, and they set their things back onto the wet sand.

"There," Katniss said, her voice cutting through the silence as she pointed into the distance. Cress and Finnick turned in unison, the former squinting as she tried to make out who it was that had just stumbled onto the beach. Three people, by the looks of it, about two spokes away from them, had just emerged from the trees. One was practically being dragged by out by another and the third was wandering in circles. Even stranger, they were all brick red, like they'd been doused in red dye.

"Who is that?" Peeta asked. "Or what? Muttations?" Katniss had already knocked her bow, pointed directly at the trio. The limp one being dragged flopped onto the wet sand, and the dragger turned around, stamping their foot as they began to yell. In a fit of rage, they shoved the one that was circling, and it clicked.

"Johanna!" Cress and Finnick shouted her name in unison, a wide smile on Cress' face as she tore down the beach, Finnick close behind. The wanderer must've been Wiress and the limp body left only Beetee, seeing as he'd never be separated from Wiress.

"Finnick! Cress!" Johanna shouted back, looking up at their approaching forms. "Let me tell you, it's really great to see you guys. I've been stuck with them for days."

"What the hell happened to you?" Finnick asked, looking over her very red, very wet form. "You look like you've been through paint."

"We thought it was rain, you know, because of the lightning, and we were all so thirsty. But when it started coming down, it turned out to be blood. Thick, hot blood. You couldn’t see, you couldn’t speak without getting a mouthful. We just staggered around, trying to get out of it," Johanna explained hurriedly. Katniss and Peeta walked up while she was speaking, her gaze flicking over them momentarily before returning to Cress and Finnick. "That’s when Blight hit the force field."

"Oh, Jo, I'm so sorry," said Cress, her voice taking on a softer tone. She couldn't imagine going through this without Finnick at her side, couldn't even fathom how'd she make it through the games without Finnick at her side.

"I'm sorry, Johanna," Finnick echoed, his jaw clenching slightly.

"Yeah, well, he wasn't much but he was from home," she muttered, her arms crossing over her chest. "And he left me alone with these two." She nudged Beetee's limp body with her foot, her lips pursing. "He got a knife back at the Cornucopia. And her-"

They all turned to look at Wiress, who was stumbling around in a loose circle, mumbling, "Tick, tock. Tick, tock."

"Yes, we know. Tick, tock. Nuts is in shock," Johanna snapped, and that grabbed Wiress' attention. She began to careen towards Johanna, but the latter shoved her away roughly, teeth bared.

"Lay off her," Katniss said firmly, her eyes narrowed on Johanna's face. Cress let out a silent sigh, biting the inside of her cheek.

Johanna narrowed her brown eyes at Katniss, the dark depths full of what looked like hatred. “Lay off her?” she hissed. She stepped forward before Katniss could react and slapped her so hard Cress was pretty sure she was seeing stars. “Who do you think got them out of that bleeding jungle for you? You — ” Finnick tossed her writhing body over his shoulder and carried her out into the water and repeatedly dunked her while she screamed, spewing profanity at Katniss.

Cress, choosing to get away from the chaos and the wounded, wandered over to Wiress. "Hey, Wiress," she said quietly, trying to keep from startling the skittish woman.

"Tick, tock," Wiress repeated, breathless as she stared out at the water blankly. "Tick, tock."

"Come to shore, please? We have food," she coaxed gently, trying to lure her back to shore.

"Tick, tock," she repeated, more forcefully this time. "Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock!"

"Okay, okay, no need to eat." Cress backed away and waded back to shore, taking a seat on the firm sand beside Peeta and Katniss, who was trying her best to wash out the jumpsuits. By the time Katniss rinsed out Beetee’s jumpsuit, a shiny clean, no longer screaming Johanna and Finnick had joined them, sitting on either side of Cress. Finnick had his arm over her shoulder, keeping her close to his side as they chatted. For a while, Johanna gulped water and stuffed herself with shellfish while Katniss tried her hand at coaxing something into Wiress. Finnick told the new arrivals about the fog and the monkeys in a detached, almost clinical voice, while he avoided mentioning their close encounters, specifically Cress'.

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Cress' sweet, very needed sleep was interrupted by Katniss shaking her awake, her eyes wild as she leaned over the sleeping forms sprawled around the beach. "Get up. Get up, we have to move," she ordered, moving on to shake Finnick, Peeta, and Johanna awake as well, and none were too pleased. Especially not Johanna. Katniss explained to the group of sleep-addled people about the clock theory and Wiress' tick tocking. She said that the invisible hands trigger a new, deadly force in each section, which did add up in her mind.

It made sense, and when she admitted as such, she could see the pride swell in Katniss' eyes. Everyone except Johanna admitted the plausibility, Johanna apparently deciding that she won't agree with anything that comes out of Katniss' mouth, no matter how logical it was.

After rousing Wiress and giving her bread to gnaw on, they were on the move. "I'd like to go to the Cornucopia and watch," said Finnick, glancing between the group. "Just to make sure we're right about the clock."

As they made their way towards the Cornucopia, Cress noticed Katniss sizing everyone up, her eyes raking over their backs as they walked along the sand. Probably deciding how to kill them, if she knew anything about Katniss. Peeta was carrying a still weakened Beetee on his back, the man clutching his wire like it was all that mattered to him. When Peeta laid Beetee in the bit of shade the Cornucopia
provided, he called out to Wiress. She crouched beside him and he put the coil of wire in her hands. “Clean it, will you?” he asked, and she nodded, scurrying towards the edge of the water to dunk it in.

She started quietly singing some funny little song, about a mouse running up a clock. It must be for children, but it seemed to make her happy. "Oh, not the song again," said Johanna, rolling her eyes. "That went on for hours before she started tick-tocking."

Suddenly Wiress stood up very straight and pointed to the jungle. "Two," she declared. Fog was creeping through the trees, and Cress felt a shiver go down her spine.

"She's right," said Katniss, following the direction she was pointing. "It's two o'clock, and the fog has started."

"Like clockwork," said Peeta. "You were very smart to figure that out, Wiress." Wiress smiled and went back to singing and dunking her coil in the saltwater.

"Oh, she’s more than smart," said Beetee. "She’s intuitive." They all turned to look at Beetee, who seemed to be coming back to life. "She can sense things before anyone else. Like a canary in one of your coal mines." Cress and Finnick looked at each other, matching quizzical expressions on their faces. What was a canary?

"What’s that?" Finnick asked Katniss, glancing at Cress before turning back to Finnick.

"It’s a bird that we take down into the mines to warn us if there’s bad air," Katniss answered, her voice short and oozing with bitterness.

"What’s it do, die?" asked Johanna, half expecting Katniss to laugh. She didn't.

"It stops singing first. That’s when you should get out. But if the air’s too bad, it dies, yes. And so do you."

Silence.

Too much silence.

Wiress had stopped singing.

Chapter Text

Cress turned and was greeted with the sight of a dripping wet Gloss who was letting Wiress slide to the ground, a bright red smile carved into her throat. The point of Katniss' arrow disappeared into his forehead and Johanna's axe made a new home in Cashmere's chest. Finnick knocked a spear thrown by Brutus aimed at Cress, his eyes blazing as he took Enobaria's knife to his thigh. If there hadn't been a Cornucopia to hide behind, they both would've been dead, both from District 2. Her eyes filled with rage at the sight of Enobaria's knife buried in Finnick's thigh, turning on her heel.

Cress leapt forward, following close behind as the cannon fired three times. "Cress!" She heard Finnick call after her, but she ignored it, her sights set on the retreating form of Enobaria and Brutus.

Wiress, Gloss, and Cashmere were all dead, that much was certain. As she followed the two down the sand strip towards the jungle, her knife in her palm and ready to launch, the ground jerked beneath her feet and she was flung to the side, landing hard in the water. The air whooshed out of her lungs, the wind knocked out of her, and she took a deep breath in out of reflex. Water flooded her lungs, her chest tightening as her sight began to dim. She thrashed to the surface, gasping and coughing, as she spotted the land that the Cornucopia was on spinning.

Literally spinning. A shuddering, coughing mess in the water, she had nowhere to go. She glanced back to the shore, but Brutus and Enobaria were already gone, having disappeared into the jungle.

She waited until the island stopped spinning to swim back, pulling herself up onto the sand and scrambling to her feet. "Finnick! Finnick!" she yelled despite the burning in her lungs, searching the small circle of rock and sand with desperation.

"Cress!" A warm, familiar body slammed into her side, wrapping their arms around her tightly. "You're okay, right? No injuries?"

"Just peachy," she gasped, feeling her racing heart beginning to slow. "How are you? The spinning, it must've thrown you off. And your leg."

"No, just the bodies. We managed to hang on," said Finnick, glancing around the Cornucopia as if he expected it to start spinning again. "I'm fine, Cress, it was a shallow wound." The others make their way over to where they stood.

“Where’s Volts?” asked Johanna.

"Fuck."

One wobbly circle of the Cornucopia confirmed he wasn't there. Finnick spotted him about twenty yards out in the water, barely keeping afloat, and swam out to haul him in despite his bleeding leg and Cress' protests.

"Wait, the wire," Katniss said, and that grabbed Cress' attention. Wiress had last had the wire, but Wiress was currently afloat in the water. She looked out, squinting, and spotted the gleaming mass of metal clutched tightly to her chest.

"Cover me," she ordered, not waiting for any acknowledgement before dumping her knives on the ground and diving headfirst into the warm water. The hovercraft was approaching, the near silent whirr of the engine filling her ears as she got closer to Wiress' body. Cress almost slammed into the prone body suspended in the water, but managed to duck under and come up on the other side. Working deftly, she managed to pry the coil from her fingers and close her eyes before diving back under and making a beeline for shore. She tossed the wire ashore, Finnick and Johanna on either side of her as they hauled her to her feet.

"You're a reckless son of a gun, Cress," Johanna said with a grin, slapping her back. "I approve."

"Shut up, Johanna." Finnick shot a sideways glare at Johanna, who just shrugged. When they made it back to the Cornucopia, Peeta had gotten Beetee back to his feet, if a little waterlogged, as he stood there coughing up water leaning on Peeta for support. At least he'd managed to hang on to his glasses, the somehow unbroken frames resting on his nose.

"Your wire."

He took it in his arms, lifting a strand of the glinting wire to run through his fingers. It's thin and golden, like fine blonde hair, and unlike anything Cress had ever seen. Katniss crossed the small stretch of land to Peeta's side, wrapping her arms around him tightly. Finnick placed his arms over the shoulders of Cress and Johanna, standing in a silent circle around Beetee. Beetee, who'd just lost his district partner.

"Let's get off this stinking island," Johanna said finally, murmurs of agreement following her statement. There was only the matter of their weapons now, which they'd largely retained. Fortunately the vines here were strong, and the spile wrapped in the parachute was still secured to Katniss' belt belt. Finnick stripped off his undershirt and tied it around the wound Enobaria’s knife had made in his thigh; it wasn't deep. Beetee believed he could walk now, if they go slowly, so Katniss helped him up.

The five of them trekked to the shore, with the group splitting off. Finnick, though reluctant to leave Cress' side, went into the trees with Katniss to get water. Cress and Johanna stayed on shore with Beetee and Peeta, who Johanna was getting to make another map.

Sitting in a peaceful circle, waiting for Katniss and Finnick to return, was likely the most domestic Cress had felt since they'd entered the arena. Johanna and Peeta were arguing over the small details, Beetee was taking a breather against the trunk of one of the trees, and Cress was tempted to take a nap.

Instead, she wandered into the jungle, knife primed in her palm as she searched for potential food. "Can't there be berries or something?" she muttered to herself as she walked yet another barren bush. "I would kill for a pineapple right now." She'd only ever had pineapple once, at final stop on her victory tour in the Snow Manor, but she'd never forgotten how good it had been. She was pretty sure it was a tropical fruit, so it would make sense for there to be pineapples here, right?

Her search proved to be unsuccessful, but she did find a few more of the nuts and brought them back to the camp.

"Cress, where were you?" Beetee whispered, worry written all over his face.

"Getting food, Jo, what-" She saw Katniss, hunched over and clinging to Peeta with an iron grip. Finnick was yelling at Johanna, spewing insults while he struggled against her grip.

"Where is she? I heard her, Johanna, she's hurt! Where'd she go? Where is she?" he demanded, thrashing. "She was screaming, Johanna, screaming for me to help her!" She dropped what she'd gathered and made her way past Katniss and Peeta, who barely glanced her way, and walked over to where Finnick and Johanna were fighting.

"Finnick, stop, I'm here," she said, but he didn't hear her, still yelling at Johanna. "Finnick. Finnick!" He stopped, his form freezing as he slowly turned to stare at her.

"Cress." His voice was a broken whisper as he lurched forward, grabbing her in an iron grip, burying his face in her shoulder. She felt his shoulders shake, and it was with widened eyes she realized that he was crying. Finnick Odair was crying into her shoulder.

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Katniss stared at Finnick, and she knew that practically everyone else was doing the same. The golden boy of the Capitol, who'd always been put together and calm, ready to crack a joke or behead someone, was crying. Not only was he crying, he was crying on Cress' shoulder.

She'd been the first target of the jabberjays, Prim's screams ringing in her ears as she tore through the forest looking for her. Finnick had pointed it out, told her that it wasn't real. Then they'd begun to scream once more, this time a familiar, adult voice, and she'd seen his face go pale.

"Cress! Cress!" He'd taken off in a sprint, leaving her to chase after him. It'd taken much convincing that it wasn't real before they'd finally made it back to the others. Or would have made it back, if it wasn't for the wall that separated them. The screams had gone on forever, the jabberjays not letting up until the hour finished. They'd stumbled out of the woods with their ears ringing, Katniss making a beeline for Peeta's arms.

Finnick looked around for Cress, his eyes wild, but when he didn't see her, he was the angriest she'd ever seen him. He was yelling at Johanna, telling her that Cress was hurt, lost, and how he needed to find her. He was panicked, an absolute terror to everyone there until Cress made her appearance.

That was when Katniss realized, with absolute certainty, who Finnick loved. When he'd collapsed onto her shoulder and begun to cry, she realized that the woman Finnick loved wasn't one of those Capitol darlings, but another victor, one who'd returned to the games with him.

Chapter Text

Five of them have congregated together in a huddle, everyone discussing the next steps while Johanna slept off to the side. Finnick stood beside Cress and Peeta, leaning against a tree as they listened to Beetee speak. "I think we’ll all agree our next job is to kill Brutus and Enobaria," Beetee said mildly. "I doubt they’ll attack us openly again, now that they’re so outnumbered. We could track them down, I suppose, but it’s dangerous, exhausting work."

"Do you think they know about the clock?" Katniss asked, her eyes narrowing into a frown.

"If they don't know now, they will soon. Perhaps not as specifically as we have. But they must know that at least some of the zones are wired for attacks and that they’re reoccurring in a circular fashion. Also, the fact that our last fight was cut off by Gamemaker intervention will not have gone unnoticed by them. We know it was an attempt to disorient us, but they must be asking themselves why it was done, and this, too, may lead them to the realization that the arena’s a clock," Beetee said, his fingers rubbing against his jaw as he stared at the sand. "So I think our best bet will be setting our own trap."

"Wait, let me get Johanna up," Finnick interrupted, already walking over to where Johanna slept. "She'll be rabid if she thinks she's missed something important."

"Or not," Katniss muttered under her breath, and Cress had to stop herself from letting out a laugh. Seemed that Katniss didn't hold Johanna in high regard. When she’d joined them, Beetee shooed the group back a bit so he could have room to work in the sand. He swiftly drew a circle and divided it into twelve wedges. It was the arena, not rendered in Peeta’s precise strokes but not impossible to read and understand. Cress kneeled down to get a better look, her knees digging into the wet sand.

"If you were Brutus and Enobaria, knowing what you do now about the jungle, where would you feel safest?" Beetee asked, glancing around the group like he was a teacher expecting an answer from his students.

"Where we are now. On the beach," answered Peeta. "It’s the safest place." He wasn't wrong, the beach was objectively the safest place in the arena. Everything could be seen, and people entering and exiting the jungle depths would be spotted and killed instantly.

"So why aren’t they on the beach?"

"Because we’re here," an impatient Johanna snapped, her arms crossed over her chest. Cress shot her a look, and Johanna just grumbled under her breath and went back to kicking the sand.

"Exactly. We’re here, claiming the beach. Now where would you go?" Beetee asked, undeterred by Johanna's clear aggravation.

"The edge of the jungle," Katniss answered after a moment, looking at the edge of the jungle with new suspicion. Hard to achieve, given how naturally suspicious she was of everything. "So I could escape if an attack came. And to spy on us." That sent an uncomfortable shiver down her spine, the idea of others watching her. She supposed it was stupid to feel this way since her entire life had been televised for the last six years, but it was uncomfortable nonetheless.

"Also to eat," Finnick added. "The jungle’s full of strange creatures and plants. But by watching us, I’d know the seafood’s safe."

Beetee smiled at them as if they'd exceeded his expectations, which made Cress feel like she was right back in class being congratulated for doing well on a test. "Yes, good. You do see. Now here’s what I propose: a twelve o’clock strike. What happens exactly at noon and at midnight?"

"The lightning bolt hits the tree," Katniss said, and Cress could see the gears turning in her head,

"Yes. So what I’m suggesting is that after the bolt hits at noon, but before it hits at midnight, we run my wire from that tree all the way down into the saltwater, which is, of course, highly conductive. When the bolt strikes, the electricity will travel down the wire and into not only the water but also the surrounding beach, which will still be damp from the ten o’clock wave. Anyone in contact with those surfaces at that moment will be electrocuted." By the time Beetee was done explaining, everyone was deep in thought.

Peeta took a stab at it, the first to speak. "Will that wire really be able to conduct that much power, Beetee? It looks so fragile, like it would just burn up."

"Oh, it will. But not until the current has passed through it. It will act something like a fuse, in fact. Except the electricity will travel along it," said Beetee. He was acting as if this was simply common sense, like they were all idiots for not knowing this.

"How do you know?" asked Johanna, clearly not convinced.

“Because I invented it,” Beetee responded bluntly, as if slightly surprised. "It’s not actually wire in the usual sense. Nor is the lightning natural lightning nor the tree a real tree. You know trees better than any of us, Johanna. It would be destroyed by now, wouldn’t it?"

"Yes," she answered glumly, her foot nudging a rock buried in the sand. After a while more of deliberation, the trek to the tree began. Katniss brought up the rear while Finnick and Peeta took turns carrying Beetee. Johanna walked either alone or beside Cress, always making a face when Finnick came to walk with her.

Once they were walking alone, Cress began to speak quietly, "What do we do after this? We should split off after, shouldn't we?"

"Probably," Finnick agreed quietly, glancing at Peeta and Beetee, Johanna swinging her axes, and finally Katniss. "Take out Enobaria and Brutus, then we go from there." It would be hard to take out these people, people that she'd come to see as friends. Even Katniss, who was like a porcupine, had made her way into Cress' good graces. The hardest to kill would be Johanna, no doubt about that, but she knew that Johanna would never even dream of going easy on Cress in a fight.

"Together?"

"Always."

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After a rather grueling workday, they made their way back to the beach. Beetee had dismissed them while he worked on the wire, and since it was his weapon, there wasn't anything they could do to help. When napping was no longer an option under the hot afternoon sun, they decided to make a feast of what was likely the last of the seafood, considering that every fish would be dead in the coming days.

Under Finnick’s guidance, and some assistance from Cress, they managed to spear fish and gather shellfish, and even dive for oysters. Katniss in particular enjoyed the diving, Cress noticed, the relaxed smile on her face giving her away. Cress felt the same way about the diving, honestly. The peace of the water, the clear blue stretching in every direction as colourful fish pass by, water-dwelling plants littered over the seafloor. It was gorgeous.

It was like home.

Johanna and Cress kept watch while Finnick, Peeta, and Katniss clean and lay out the seafood, Johanna taking the patrol of their borders while Cress stayed closeby. Peeta had just pried open an oyster when she heard him laugh. “Hey, look at this!” He held up a glistening, perfect pearl about the size of a pea. "You know, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to pearls," he said earnestly to Finnick, who raised an eyebrow, and Cress had to stifle a laugh. Who on earth had told him that?

“No, it doesn’t,” said Finnick dismissively, and she heard Katniss' snorts from beside her. She turned to see the brown haired girl cracking up, her cheeks flushed as a wide smile spread over her face. Instead of being pleased that Katniss was truly smiling, her heart sank in her chest. When she smiled, she looked young, looked her age. A seventeen year old had no business being there, in the arena, hunted for sport by others. She was too young.

"For you." Peeta held the pearl out to Katniss, his expression soft as he watched her roll it between her fingers, holding it up to the light. Her smile faded slightly as she glanced back towards Peeta.

"Thanks," Katniss said quietly, closing her fist around it.

"The locket didn’t work, did it?" Peeta asked, and after a beat of silence, Finnick and Cress glance at each other quizzically, questions burning in their gazes. "Katniss?"

"It worked," answered Katniss, her voice almost monotone.

"But not the way I wanted it to," he concluded, averting his glance. After that he looked at nothing but oysters, leaving both tributes from District 4 with unaddressed questions.

Just as they were about to eat, a parachute appeared bearing two supplements to the meal. A small pot of spicy red sauce and yet another round of rolls from District 3. Finnick, of course, immediately counted them. “Twenty-four again, ” he said. Thirty-two rolls, then. So they each took five, leaving seven, which would never divide equally. It was bread for only one.

Cress had never eaten more in her life. The sauce sent by sponsors made everything taste that much better, combined with the delicate rolls and fish that Finnick had cooked. It was incredible, maybe some of the best food she'd ever seen in an arena.

After everyone was done eating, they dumped the leftovers and Cress promptly collapsed into a food coma, splaying out in the sand. Finnick sat down beside her as the anthem began, both of them turning to look towards the blank sky. No one had died that day, something that would surely leave the crowd bloodthirsty.

"Time to go," Katniss said as she walked over to them, the momentary happiness and relaxation from earlier gone, replaced by sombre seriousness as she stared down at them. Cress got to her feet with a groan, following Finnick as they left the beach, her chest feeling tight.

Not all of them would make it out of this alive.

Chapter Text

Before he even attached any wire to the tree, Beetee unrolled yards and yards of the stuff. He had Finnick secure it tightly around a broken branch and lay it on the ground. Then they stood on either side of the tree, passing the spool back and forth as they wrapped the wire around and around the trunk. At first it seemed arbitrary, then she saw a pattern, like an intricate maze, appearing in the moonlight on Beetee’s side. Cress wondered if it made any difference how the wire’s placed, or if this is merely to add to the speculation of the audience, though she'd bet they knew just as much about electricity as she did.

The wave began just as the work on the trunk is completed, both Johanna and Cress glancing up at the sound. "It must begin at ten thirty, then," Katniss mumbled, mostly to herself as she stared into the distance, Peeta at her side.

Beetee called them over, and he revealed the rest of his plan. Since they moved most swiftly through the trees, he wanted Johanna or Cress to go with Katniss to take the coil down through the jungle, unwinding the wire as they went. They were to lay it across the twelve o’clock beach and drop the metal spool, with whatever is left of it, deep into the water, making sure it sunk. Then run for the jungle. If they went now, right now, they should make it to safety.

"I think Cress should go with Katniss," Johanna said, patting her shoulder as Cress turned to stare at her. "She's got her acrobatics, after all, and she's a lot more agile than me."

"I want to go as guard," Finnick said immediately, his eyes narrowed as he regarded Beetee.

"I second that." Peeta nodded in agreement, glancing sideways at Katniss.

"You’re too slow," he said pointedly, motioning to Peeta's leg before turning to look at Finnick. "Besides, I’ll need you both on this end. Katniss will guard, won't you, Katniss?" She nodded stiffly, her arms crossed over her chest. "There’s no time to debate this. I’m sorry. If the girls are to get out of there alive, they need to move now." He handed the coil to Cress, the weight of responsibility heavy in her arms.

"It’s okay," Katniss told Peeta, her voice uncharacteristically soft. "We’ll just drop the coil and come straight back up."

"Not into the lightning zone," Beetee reminded her. "Head for the tree in the one-to-two-o’clock sector. If you find you’re running out of time, move over one more. Don’t even think about going back on the beach, though, until I can assess the damage."

"Johanna should go," Cress said firmly, pushing the coil into Johanna's hands.

"What? Why?" Johanna frowned slightly.

"Actually, I'd rather that Johanna go too," Finnick said, and Johanna rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, sure, for 'logistic reasons', right?" She made a face at Finnick, muttering something under her breath. "Fine, I'll go." She made her way towards the jungle, huffing as she waited for Katniss to join her.

They disappeared into the trees, leaving Cress, Peeta, Finnick, and Beetee to finish up at the tree.

"Cress, Peeta, you guys go guard," Beetee instructed, ignoring the grunt of protest from Finnick. They split up, Peeta going left while Cress went right. The silence was suffocating her slowly, each rustle of the trees sending a rush of adrenaline through her system. She stared up at the tree beside her, and her eyes picked out the branches that would be best for climbing. Taking out a knife, she jabbed it into the trunk and began to scale it.

Suddenly, she was back in that arena, the sting of the bark digging into her fingers and Ferric's laugh echoing as he watched her try to teach him how to climb a tree. She could almost feel his presence beside her, hear him encouraging her to continue.

With a shudder, she sank down to the ground, planting her feet firmly as she ripped her knife from the tree's clutches. There would be no climbing for Cress today.

A spear landed in the trunk next to her head and she whirled around, faced with Brutus staring her down.

"That District 12 girl is good as dead, and you've got nowhere to run," he hissed, baring his teeth in a grin. "No one can save you now, Cress." He launched himself at her and she ducked, rolling away from his assault as she dove into the nearby bushes. Breaking into a sprint, she heard his spear being torn from the bark, the trample of branches and leaves beneath his feet as he ran after her. She ran towards the tree, leaping through the jungle as best she could. There was no way she could beat Brutus in hand to hand, or overpower him, so her best shot would be outrunning him.

A guy that large couldn't have endless stamina, after all.

She leapt into the clearing by the trees and froze. Finnick was gone, the area abandoned of anyone. Beetee's wire sat limply on the ground, still wrapped around the tree. Crashing through the trees, Brutus emerged with a brutal roar, staring Cress down as she snapped out of her shock.

"Nowhere left to hide now." He approached her slowly, crouched low to the ground as he watched her. "What are you going to do? Wait for me to kill you?"

"Shut up," she muttered, keeping her eyes on him as she took out a knife.

"You make this too easy." He ran at her and tackled her to the ground, his fist slamming against her ribs repeatedly, knocking the breath out of her. She wheezed as his hands wrapped around her throat, his spear forgotten beside her. "Now this isn't any fun! What happened to the Pearl Princess, huh? Where'd she go? What, she can't fly anymore?"

He grinned ferally as he stomped onto her leg, a wet crack meeting her ears as a scream was ripped from her throat. Her vision went white for a moment, returning in hazy detail. Unfortunately, the first thing she managed to take in was Brutus' face as he stared down at her. "And now she can't walk either. Poor, poor Cress." He leaned in close, his breath tickling her ear. "Fish belong in the water, not in the trees."

He straightened up and sneered at her as he grabbed his spear, kicking her definitely broken leg and sending a wave of agony through her body. "I should leave you to suffer, to die alone... but I really can't wait for you to die." He smiled down at her. "Finnick can't save you now." He raised his arm holding the spear, the pointed end lined up with her heart. His arms moved back, but she didn't close her eyes. Wouldn't close them. He didn't deserve to see her fear.

There was a thump, then the sound of a body hitting the ground.

It wasn't hers.

There was an arrow lodged in Brutus' head, piercing his skull and surely hitting his brain. There was only one person who had arrows. Cress glanced to the side, and through the waves of pain, managed to make out Katniss' blurry form in the distance as she approached.

"Where's Peeta?" she demanded, arrow knocked in her bow as she stared down at Cress, anger blazing in the brown depths of her eyes. They flicked down to what Cress was sure was the grotesque sight of her leg, but she didn't seem too phased. "Where is he?"

"I don't know," she rasped, forcing the words from her mouth as she began to fade, her eyes drifting shut. She wouldn't last long, it seemed, not with the way her leg was gushing blood. Cress Bronzetide would die here, then. Die in the games, her name forgotten as she stared up at the fake stars above her head, her surroundings eaten up by a black fog, the sounds of battle still raging around her.

As she stared up into the clouds, her eyes settled on a star, one that seemed to shine brighter than the others.

Cress Bronzetide made a wish as she closed her eyes.

"Cress! Cress!"

The world disappeared from around her as sensations faded, replaced by... nothing. A bright flash that seared her eyes even with them shut, and then nothing.

Just darkness.

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"Communications are down in Seven, Ten, and Twelve. But Eleven has control of transportation now, so there’s at least a hope of them getting some food out." Plutarch Heavensbee's voice rang as she stood in the hallway, staring at the door that led to the next room. Although she'd only really spoken with him once. A hoarse voice asks a question. "No, I’m sorry. There’s no way I can get you to Four. But I’ve given special orders for her retrieval if possible. It’s the best I can do, Finnick."

"Don’t be stupid. That’s the worst thing you could do. Get her killed for sure. As long as you’re alive, they’ll keep her alive for bait," said Haymitch.

Said Haymitch! She banged through the door and stumbled into the room. Haymitch, Plutarch, and a very beat-up Finnick sat around a table laid with a meal no one is eating. Daylight streamed in the curved windows, and in the distance she saw the top of a forest of trees. They were flying. "Done knocking yourself out, sweetheart?" said Haymitch, the annoyance clear in his voice. But as she careened forward he stepped up and caught her wrists, steadying her. He looks at her hand. "So it’s you and a syringe against the Capitol? See, this is why no one lets you make the plans."

All she could do was stare at him blankly.

Haymitch sat directly in front of her, staring at her intensely. "I’m going to explain what happened. I don’t want you to ask any questions until I’m through. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

There was a plan to break them out of the arena from the moment the Quell was announced. The victor tributes from 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, and 11 had varying degrees of knowledge about it. Plutarch Heavensbee had been, for several years, part of an undercover group aiming to overthrow the Capitol. He made sure the wire was among the weapons. Beetee was in charge of blowing a hole in the force field. The bread they'd received in the arena was code for the time of the rescue. The district where the bread originated indicated the day. Three. The number of rolls the hour. Twenty-four. The hovercraft belongs to District 13.

District 13.

She glanced at Finnick, who looked haggard. "What's going on? Where's Peeta?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

"He was picked up by the Capitol along with Johanna and Enobaria," said Haymitch. And finally he had the decency to drop his gaze.

Finnick was staring out the window, his gaze a thousand miles away.

"And Cress."

Chapter Text

Cress stared at the glass that encased her, the too thin robe that covered her body chafing her skin red. She could see the vague outline of Peeta's form, concealed behind the thick white curtain that surrounded his bed. At least he got a bed, even if he was strapped to it and restrained. Johanna was thrashing in her binds, trying to bite each doctor that prodded her with needles. She hadn't seen much of Enobaria, the woman kept in a different area than they were.

Worse yet, there was no sign of Katniss, nor Beetee.

Or Finnick.

Across from Cress was Annie, locked in an identical glass cube that allowed for no sound to penetrate it. Johanna would try to speak to them, Cress could see her lips move, but she heard nothing. She was alone with her thoughts, alone with the gruesome images that plagued her mind. She had been trapped in this box for days, maybe weeks. Telling time was impossible in the room, devoid of windows or clocks. For all she knew, she'd been here for months.

Annie sat there, staring at Cress without a thought behind her glassy eyes as the jabberjay squawked over and over, no doubt mirroring the screams of those she loved. Cress had heard it several times already, the birds alternating which case they screamed in at the direction of the invisible scientists that tortured them. She could imagine what Annie was hearing, probably a mix of Junie, Finnick, Cress, and Mags.

Junie. She hadn't even thought of what they could've done with her sister, wouldn't let herself dwell on it. If she did, she might truly lose her mind. All she could do was hope that she was safe, free of torment.

The heavy doors swung open and two Peacekeepers entered, not their usual tormentors. They wore white coats and gloves, usually disappearing behind the curtain that hid Peeta. She saw Johanna bear her teeth at them, but they passed her by, stopping in front of Cress. Clicking in a code, the door swung open, and Cress covered her ears, the sudden cacophony overwhelming. Beeps of the machines, Annie's palms slamming against the glass, Peeta's pained yells and grunts, and Johanna's constant insults filled her previously silent mind. Ignorant to her pain, the Peacekeepers grabbed her arms and dragged her past Annie, past Johanna, past Peeta.

"Don't let them break you," said Johanna, the words barely registering as they carried her through the halls of wherever they were being held. The hallways were white like snow, pure and harsh against her eyes. They set her in a room, and in filed in her prep team. Tazzel, his head shaved, moved stiffly into the room, Saffrin following close behind. They looked haggard, their usual Capitol luster missing as Peacekeepers shut the door behind them. No sign of Sorrel.

He must be dead, then.

Cress could only stare at them. Saffrin had none of her usual makeup, her face bare as she wordlessly began to wash Cress. Tazzel was similarly silent, working on her hair without his usual chatter. No comments about how she'd let her hair get dry, none about the poor state of her hands, the callouses that roughened her palms and fingertips. Tazzel dropped a bottle of product, the hard plastic hitting his foot with a thump. His mouth opened, a hiss of pain escaping, and she felt her heart drop to her stomach.

Tazzel had no tongue. She glanced at Saffrin and saw the sheen of tears that coated her light pink eyes, the tremble in her lips as she stared at Cress' legs. Reaching to the side, she pulled a white dress out of a box tucked to the side, accented by delicate gold jewellery that they draped across her neck and put in her ears. It was completed by a gold diadem that rested against her brow. She wasn't able to see herself, but she could imagine it.

The dress would hang off of her frame, her cheekbones perturbingly hollow, but nothing that makeup couldn't fix. Her hair had been brushed until perfectly silky, the gentle curls tickling the exposed skin of her back. She would look like a mix between a bride and a princess, though she wasn't sure why. What could be the reason to dress her up so nicely if they were just going to stick her back in the box?

The Peacekeepers re-entered and one escorted Saffrin and Tazzel out of the room, the other motioning for Cress to follow him through the open door. She stood, the heels strapped to her feet feeling foreign as they walked through the halls and to the elevator. Standing in the elevator was rather uncomfortable, her thick skirt barely fitting into the small space with the Peacekeeper present. Exiting was a relief, even if it was on a floor she had never seen before.

Marble tables held vases of white roses, their smell far too sweet as they continued to walk in silence. Stopping at an ornate wooden door, inlaid with gold details that curled like snakes, the Peacekeeper opened it slowly.

There was a turned chair sitting behind a mahogany desk made of red leather, the fabric a blast of colour against the white walls of the room. The Peacekeeper waited for Cress to enter before shutting it behind her, leaving her alone.

"Ms. Bronzetide."

The tremble began in her fingertips and spread through her arms and down her spine as it clicked, the chair turning slowly. The roses. The snakes.

President Snow stared at her with cold eyes, regarding her in her new outfit. "You clean up beautifully, I must admit." He stood up and walked up to her, taking a strand of her hair and curling it between his thumb and index finger. "I have been meaning to speak to you, Ms. Bronzetide, for quite some time now." It took everything in her to resist the urge to slap him. His breath, a mix of something noxious, blood, and vomit, washed over her face. She didn't let her reaction show, her expression impassive as ever.

"Your silence is appreciated," he murmured, his voice deceptively soft. "It is rare to find someone that knows their place." He released her hair and went back to his seat, staring at her intently. "Please, sit." Motioning to the pristine chair in front of him, she could do nothing but sit, the plush cushion giving away beneath her weight. "I will tell you like it is, Ms. Bronzetide. I have your sister."

Blind rage filled Cress as her blood boiled, simmering beneath her skin and turning the flesh red. Before she could open her mouth to unleash her rage, the torrent of anger that stirred within her body just begging for a way out, Snow spoke once more, holding up his hand.

"I will not harm her, should you cooperate," he added smoothly, and all that white hot rage turned to ice in her veins. He wouldn't harm Junie. Not if she cooperated with him. "She will not be harmed should you choose to appear as my ally. The districts must be united once more, and who better to bring them together than the Pearl Princess?"

Cress wasn't quite sure how she ended up there, seated beside Snow as Caesar's makeup was touched up for the cameras that would soon be pointed at her, the lights that would blind her as she put on a fake smile. For Junie, she could bear it. She could pretend. She could only hope that wherever Finnick was, he was unable to see her like this, perched at Snow's side like a decoration, a doll dressed up to garner supporters. She was a sellout. A Capitol sellout.

-------------------------------------------------

Finnick felt like he was underwater, sounds muffled and surroundings blurred. He lived in his mind, replaying memories that reminded him of a better time. A time with her, where everything hadn't gone to shit, where they were still together. Happy.

Sometimes he could still feel her, lying beside him, hand in his hair as she laughed at something stupid. Or how she'd looked when Peeta and Katniss won their games together, the anguish written on every feature as she cried in his arms.

And then he would wake up to an empty bed, empty room. Alone. It was all he could do to drag himself through daily life in thirteen. Go through the motions, eat, sleep, repeat. And the occasional forced meeting, where he would see a haggard Katniss, an observing Plutarch, and a reluctantly sober Haymitch. And of course, Alma Coin, head of thirteen, ever present.

Katniss was sitting beside him, her back straight as her little friend, the tall man that had rescued the others from twelve, stood behind her. Finnick couldn't be bothered to remember his name, in all honesty. Coin turned on the screen, and Katniss practically shot to her feet, shoving her way closer to the screen. There was Peeta, looking the picture of health as he sat across from Caesar. His skin was glowing, likely the result of a full body polish. Finnick was familiar with them, with what they could do.

Caesar settled himself more comfortably in the chair across from Peeta and gives him a long look. "So . . . Peeta . . . welcome back."

Peeta smiled slightly. "I bet you thought you’d done your last interview with me, Caesar."

"I confess, I did, and I suspect the rest of us did as well" said Caesar, glancing towards the camera. "The night before the Quarter Quell . . . well, who ever thought we’d see you again?"

"It wasn’t part of my plan, that’s for sure," said Peeta with a frown.

Caesar leaned into him a little. "I think it was clear to all of us what your plan was. To sacrifice yourself in the arena so that Katniss Everdeen and your child could survive."

"That was it. Clear and simple." Peeta’s fingers trace the upholstered pattern on the arm of the chair. "But other people had plans as well." Finnick let out a dry scoff, staring at his hands as he resisted the urge to kick the table. Yeah, plans. Peeta talked for what seemed like forever, until Caesar stood up, and Peeta stood with him. The anthem of the Capitol played and the audience stood up as President Snow walked in, Caesar talking into the mic excitedly.

"And gracing us in none other than President Snow, everyone, here on air!"

Suddenly whispers began to rise, turning into shouts as someone stepped out from behind him.

"And he's accompanied by the Pearl Princess, Cress Bronzetide! Isn't she a vision in white? Oh my goodness!"

Finnick's head shot up as he shoved his way through the crowd of people, staring at the screen in front of him.

It was her. She was alive.

And on Snow's arm.

"Welcome, President, Cress," Caesar said as they sat down beside Peeta, the two victors flanking Snow. His heart felt like it was being strangled, watching her sit with Snow like a doll, lifeless and objectified. That was not her, not his Cress. The rest of the interview was a blur, the words only background noise as all of his focus was directed at the girl on screen. His girl.

And then the screen cut out.

"What? No. No!" Finnick felt the words tear their way out of his throat, piercing as he began to grab at the screen. "Come back! Bring her back! Cress! Cress!"