Suffocate

The footage was flickering, the projection weak.

They weren’t supposed to be seeing it, that was why. The Capitol had shut down, stopped any replays, any hint of the games when it had happened. When Katniss had realised Beetee’s plan, as she fired that arrow and struck it high into the sky, breaking the arena.

The camera’s had been on her, what the audience had seen was her sleek body, crouched down, blending into the darkness and grass. Her arrow had originally been aimed at Finnick, Enobaria. The people who knew saw, prayed for the realisation that slowly unclouded her bloody face.

But nobody saw anything once the arrow hit, all systems went off for a few seconds.

That was the window, Haymitch and Plutarch’s window to get the victors, to bring them safely here to Thirteen. They’d failed. They had her, of course, the one Coin wanted to mould into her little pet, her little icon to convince people to do what should have happened years ago. She had Katniss and Finnick, both too damaged from the shock, the electric and the mental to really focus. She had Beetee, shoved deep below the surface of the earth developing weapons.

They’d left Elenia, Johanna and Peeta.

The footage in front of Thom Volute did nothing to disprove that, it just let all in the small room see what had happened before that arrow. Beetee had managed to get it somehow, hacked into some system Thom didn’t care to think about.

His knuckles were covered in tiny nips, his horrible nervous habit of biting them had resurfaced minutes after the craft had landed, the bodies, two still unconscious, instantly attached with the tube and the third walking, but not present.

His sister wasn’t one of them.

Finnick still wasn’t present. He was in a daze most of the day, staring mindlessly, fingers tangling in knots the head doctor had prescribed. Thom didn’t care about Finnick. He didn’t care about the shock, the distress, the ‘fear’ he must feel about Elenia’s state. Finnick was alive, he was here. Thom didn’t care an ounce about Finnick fucking Odair.

He cared about Elenia, he cared about his sister.

When Brutus’s hands wrapped around her neck he’d had enough and stood, clearing his throat to hide the growing sob, to cover it up, the hard metal chair scraping against his thigh. “Soldier Volute.”

He ignored Coin’s cool voice, it was stern, always so stern and uncaring. The audio was poor, the
picture worse, he was glad of that, it made it less real. But he could see his sisters face, even when he closed his eyes, the tendons on his neck ready to burst out of his skin, he felt like invisible hands were choking him also.

“Soldier Volute you do not have permission to...”

“Get out of my way.” He all but choked, fingers curling into fists.

“Soldier.” Coin barked and he turned, giving time for others to block the exit, “It is imperative we watch this footage. According to the doctors Katniss wants to be aware of the conditions of Peeta before the escape.”

“Peeta?” Thom smirked, poison pooling in his mouth, “And only Peeta’s important?”

“You know how sorry we are about Elenia.” Plutarch had one leg up, ankle resting on his knee. “And we are doing everything to be aware of their positioning, of how we can...”

“It’s been a week!” Thom spat, “It has been seven days and we have still done nothing!”

“We can’t risk anything so publically or so soon.” Coin’s hands clenched on the steel table, “After the bombing in Twelve any public sign of reaction would only encourage more destruction. Our intelligence has already gotten wind of a threat to District Eight. For you to...”

Plutarch lifted his hand slowly, silencing her, leaning forward a little, holding Thom’s gaze. Thom trusted him, he had as soon as he was aware of his involvement months ago, through coded messages he’d gotten a picture of the older man. He took several short careful breaths to steady himself.

“We’re all sorry Thom, we are doing everything we can to gather knowledge about where they are being hold, we have people on the inside...but...” He swallowed, rubbing over his chin, “We cannot risk their positions yet, not so soon afterwards.”

“So we’re...” Plutarch did the same movement to Thom and he fell back on the balls of his feet.

“Any movement too soon will cause a mass loss of life, possibly in any of the Districts.” It was clear he was pointing towards Four, making his point. Thom didn’t want to accept his point.

“Let him leave.” Coin said shortly, with a sigh, “I’ll send Boggs to pass on the appropriate information this evening.” The men stepped aside, and the door slid shut behind him. He wanted to breath, he needed to, but the air was always stale down here, regurgitated stuff sucked down from the outside so high above them.

He didn’t know how many metres they were underground, sitting blankly through an introduction, simple information about what Thirteen did, their nuclear devices and how they had survived after the first rebellion had fallen.

He hadn’t been angry at their lack of involvement until he had been brought here, him and the few others from Four, those that formed the larger rebel group here. That was before the end of the games, during the second day. When he had honestly thought Elenia would join him here, that Finnick would ensure that.

He was scared for her of course, furious when she went off without Finnick, when she went with Johanna Mason of all people. But it was then he’d realised she knew more than he had wanted.

She understood Beetee’s importance.

But for Finnick to let her slip through his fingers. The Capitol had played up that lasting stare he’d held on Elenia’s back at the Cornucopia, replayed it, hints of romance they said, the Capitols most eligible bachelor, the most beautiful man in Panem falling for the girl he had helped save?

He felt his jaw jut. Finnick hadn’t done that. Finnick hadn’t done anything, he’d let her go off alone, he’d let her get stabbed, spend the night hunched under a tree. Thom hadn’t slept that night, none of them had, him, Phillus and Rita sat hunched, staring at a screen, elbows leaving bruises on his knees.

Finnick should have been with her at all times. He promised that, he promised Thom that and he had promised Elenia the same. She trusted him, she had the last five years, more than anyone.

She’d needed Finnick more than she had needed Thom.

Or she’d wanted him more.

Both options made him feel physically sick.

The images still scarred onto his eyelids didn’t help. Her yelps as Brutus had hit her, had kicked her. He couldn’t watch anymore. Someone would tell him, Somala, someone would. He didn’t know if he wanted to hear it. If it was anything worse than that...

His eyes clenched shut again.

They knew she was alive, they had that much evidence. The Capitol had captured her, Johanna, Peeta and Enobaria. The four of them. Enobaria was fine, she was their pet, likely they’d show her off like a queen, a hero.

They had no idea what was happening to the others.

And they wanted to wait? They wanted to keep him locked up down here, so they could all rely on some mentally scarred, terrified little girl and a man who had fucked half of the Capitol to suddenly click into action.

His feet led him down paths that were starting to become familiar. He checked the compartment and it was empty, he wasn’t letting himself think anymore.
His mother always said he over thought everything. But then he could have been the opposite, he could have been like Luka.

What if Elenia ended up like Luka? The thought was like a stone, dragging his heart to his heels.
They said she was alive, that they wouldn’t kill her. She was there to torture Finnick.

Again her family didn’t come into the equation. He meant nothing to Coin, his wife and children meant less than nothing. Even Elenia, she was another pawn, a pawn to both the Capitol and here. Just a tiny thing to be played to their advantage.

For the Capitol to torture Finnick

To hurt him by hurting her.

Thom started walking again, far more determined now, anger flickering in his fingers and burning in his chest. They had a deal, and no confused sobbing and blank stares was going to get Odair out of what he had sworn. He stormed into the hospital, past the beds, the majority empty, random areas closed off with stark white curtains.

He found Finnick, staring blankly up at the ceiling. He expected a stab of pity, he had at first when the man had stumbled past him, tear tracks down his face. That was until he realised why he had been crying, until betrayal and horror had struck Thom at full force and hadn’t dipped since.

Finnick may have been close to his sister, he couldn’t deny that. He couldn’t deny the way he knew they both looked at each other, or Elenia’s admittance upon his last visit to her.

His reaction to the jabber jays and after had cemented their relationship in the media, hundreds of foolish hearts had broken. But Thom knew what people did for the cameras, and he knew, he knew so well how easily people could be manipulated, how easy Elenia could me.

Whatever Finnick felt for his sister meant nothing; it had done nothing to save her.

Plutarch had told him of some of the things they did in the prisons, in the chambers deep below the Capitol. Maybe as deep as they were now. He couldn’t sleep, it was all he saw.

Thanks to Brutus he now had realistic sounds to go with the images.

Finnick’s hands were clenched over the thin sheets, the scar running down his right arm jagged, not healed well in the urgency. Of course he had managed to remove his own tracker, even half conscious, badly electrocuted he’d done that. Thought of himself as he always did.

As everyone here and in the whole fucking world always did.

He wanted to make Finnick hurt the same way he did.