Inhale

I watched him die. It was compulsory.

I was there, hands heaving me back, keeping me away. Could I have done something? Even if I had broken free and run to the firing squad, would I have made a difference? Or would my brains have joined his; splattered against the front of a small shop? I didn’t know, they were just some of the questions that constantly stabbed inside my head, kept me awake or left me tossing, waking up breathless from nightmares.

I should have seen it coming. I should have seen the hints and signs that appeared so obvious now.

We should have stopped him, Thom and I.

I should have stopped him.

I should have run in front of the Peacekeeper and begged for his life. I no longer know if that would hold any weight. Maybe a year before, with everyone’s knowledge of my relationship with Seneca I could maybe have changed his fate. But the Peacekeepers were more informed about the Capitol than anyone in the Districts, they would know he was long gone.

I had no more of a voice than anyone else. Even less now; my last name made me a danger, a risk to be around. That was why Rita had moved in, my brother's wife and children were ostracised, people unwilling to be too friendly. Their own home was nothing but a scorched mark on the ground.

I didn’t mind, although I had had little choice, it made the house warmer, there was more life.

Life for them, that was. I felt like it had all but ebbed from my body. Everything I had done was to keep my family safe; that may not have been my aim throughout my time in the arena. That was the last chance I felt I had to be truly selfish. Once I was out, and the threats had started, once Finnick had confessed what was expected of victors, expected of me I had done it all for them.

To keep my family safe, to protect my brothers and their children.

I’d failed there in every respect.

The deaths had shocked the District to the core. Everything planned, any sense of rebellion had vanished the moment those bullets had pierced their flesh. One after the other in a line. It was like they were putting down stray dogs, rich with rabies.

Not like they were people, honest hardworking people. They had been his crew, Luka’s inner circle had seen the spark that Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark had started. I’d told Luka about Crane, that had shown the Capitols fear he had reportedly said, exposed their weakness. Why had I shaken that statement off with just a harsh look?

They'd plotted, weakly, stupidly and more than anything, bravely. I don’t know how far it truly spread, no-one was likely to mention anything now. That was a death sentence.

For the month following, it seemed our whole District was waiting for the shooting squad.

Everything was still closed down. All of the telephones lines had been cut, I couldn’t ring anyone in the District and definitely not anyone outside it. We were trapped fully in the narrow space of Four, tall, and newly guarded, walls on one side and the ocean the other. But, for most people, when the docks were open, when they could go back out on the sea; and their children could go back to school, their lives started again.

Mine hadn’t yet.

In the daytime it didn’t seem real, but at night, there was a new memory to merge with the horror of my time in the Hunger Games. This one involved watching a chunk of my brother’s brain meet a dark stone wall. It felt the scream burn my entire body. I wasn’t sure how many days it had been since the square was littered with bullets. They passed in a blur. I wasn’t even crying anymore. I didn’t. I was trying, trying so hard to be normal, to grieve normally but I couldn’t.

Any little thing sent me back to that moment. I wanted to roar until my throat bled, it would help relieve the tension and poison pulsing through me.

My bed was my haven, at least, it had been at first before Finnick had physically forced me from it, his words a little hard, more so than they had ever been before when aimed at me. “You can’t lay there forever.” I’d shrugged, curling back into a ball, barely grunting as his arms scooped me up.

“No, I’m not letting you just waste away. You need to grieve Elenia, not sink into whatever the hell it is your doing.” He forced me to stand; his hands firm but not rough. “It isn’t healthy and you’re scaring everyone. Luka wouldn’t want this.”

I wanted to ask him how the hell he would know what Luka wanted. One of the last things my elder brother had wanted was to break free of the dictatorship we lived in. Any chance of a successful uprising had failed, and there were more peacekeepers patrolling the streets than ever. Everything may have lifted and reopened but there was still tension, still hesitation.

I’d half tuned Finnick out, “You’re going to get up at a normal time and do things, not mope, not anymore. Okay?” he lifted my chin up gently, “For Luka.” I opened my mouth, barely a squeak before I gave up and shut it, “Please, for me.” He had me there, and the way his eyes pierced mine released a flood of butterflies within me.

But for the last two weeks, each day ticked off properly on the calendar, I had done that he asked.

There was movement upstairs and I heard the two pairs of small feet pattering on the steps, dragging myself away from viciously scrubbing the table to give them a smile and gather some bread for their breakfast. The spontaneous bread delivery had stopped as well.

Suffering for a Victor like this had caused an odd divide between us and them. I hated how that sounded.

I cut it into a few thick slices, browning it in the oven as they chatted, sticking fingers into the jam pot when they thought I wasn’t looking. I didn’t have to force a smile around either of them, and they didn’t bug me to speak at all. Not that they brought it up, Rita hadn’t let them see, thank goodness. Again I was unsure whether or not it was healthy, would benefit them to talk about it. I left those decisions to their mother.

I playfully tapped hands away from the sugary substance before I lay their plates down, spinning to grab them some dull knives and water. They both thanked me, Luka had installed some good manners in them. That was something our father had always been tetchy with, manners and respect.

I wasn’t really deserving of either.

I rubbed my hand gently over Annie’s head as I left, darting up the stairs but trying to keep the creaks to a minimum. Anytime Rita slept in was precious and I knew she wasn’t doing it often.
I had to keep up some facade now of being strong for her. I was turning into a little housewife. I made sure the girls ate; I made sure they went to bed at a decent time. We couldn’t both spend days trapped in a zombie-like state. She wanted to go to work to distract herself; I just passed time making sure everything was a perfect as I could make it.

If she got a half decent nights sleep a little extra effort was worth it. I knew she would and had already done the same for me, not that it made a great difference. I pretended to be asleep when she checked, but whenever I did actually drift off I woke up with my fingers in claws ready to attack.

It was every night now, the nightmares about the arena, the addition of Luka and sometimes Thom. They were inescapable and caffeine was becoming a lifeline. Everything just put me on edge and as usual, swimming was one of the only things that helped. Especially in the middle of the night when I was struggling to breathe. Finnick would kill me if he knew I was going out when it was dark like I did, but then he had no reason to be off with me.

He was keeping something from me, that much was evident.

Finnick was a whole other worry.

He definitely had a secret, well, being who he was he always had more secrets then a person needed. But for a change, this revolved around him. And he wouldn’t tell me. I wanted to ask, I really did, to say something and get through to him. I couldn’t bear the thought of him being in danger as well.

In some of my nightmares, he took my brother's place.

Rita left for work just after eight o’clock, taking the girls to school on her way. I wasted a little time doing some clothes washing and pegging them out in the slowly warming sun. We were deep into spring now and I had hardly even noticed. Winter was brief, the weather was steadily increasing. Before long it would be summer, and the Games my life revolved around would be back.

My stomach twisted tightly with just the flicker of a thought. My hatred for the Capitol and everything it stood for had never been stronger. I tried to push that back and continued with my day. I went for a run, out past the greening fields until sweat was drying on my face. I followed it up with more tidying, children messier than expected, and a bath.

Part of me wanted to hold myself under, inhale the hot water and let it flood my lungs. That was weak. I’d wasted too much time being weak. I dragged myself upwards, dressed and half did my hair, preparing a small lunch. I’d been spending more time with Mags lately, doing what I could to help her out and keep her comfortable.

And she was comforting in her own way. There was never any pressure for conversation and I felt like whatever it was Finnick was keeping to himself was just furthering the divide in our relationship. I was seeing him less than ever, and I wasn’t sure whose fault that was anymore. I was upset he was keeping something from me, on top of everything else, and he had to struggle with me in general. I’d hardly been coping for weeks, I was drifting through days with no purpose.

I would be sick of me if I was him.

I head over to Mags early afternoon expecting the usual but then there he was, bringing her a bunch of food. His broad shoulders were bare, skin catching that golden tan again. He smiled at me, asking how I was and receiving a shrug in response that made him bite his lip.

“They’re announcing the rules of the Quarter Quell tomorrow...did you know that?” I nodded, it was earlier than I had expected and I wasn’t looking forward to it. Mags had told me the last time they had sent double the amount of tributes in, forty eight children who had to kill each other. That was the year Haymitch had won, I knew that much. I wasn’t surprised he turned to alcohol.

“Haven’t had any tips dropped, especially without the phones.” I think the stab of pain echoed across my face because he backtracked quickly, “Anyway, do you want to watch it together?” His smile was forced, almost sarcastic, “Discuss it? See if we can sort any kind of game plan a little earlier?”

“No.” The word was harsh and it was my turn to try and fix my words, “I mean, I can’t tomorrow. I don’t feel like I...”

His hand slid to my shoulder, pulling me closer. “You don’t have to do it this year, everyone will understand. I can talk to Mags or even Andromeda and we can try and sort-“ It wasn’t likely, he knew that and my look seemed to secure it, no-one wanted to take our places, last year none of the others had come at all. That was something some did, used the games as a holiday almost, the lush Capitol was appealing, especially for Tobias, the winner before Finnick, in his mid-thirties who was addicted to food and alcohol. The Capitol had both so he usually made his excuses and joined us.

But he would never offer to mentor. Not in a million years. It was too close to the past.

I shook my head, “I’ll do it. It’s not that...I’ll, I’ll be okay by the time they come around but tomorrow is just too...” The struggle to find suitable words was evident. “What time will they be?”

“They’ve announced the speech for midday.”

“Okay.” I breathed, “I don’t want to be sitting in so I’ll be,” I gestured in the direction of the natural pool, the route I usually ran. “I’ll come back here, I just can’t face more bad news or Snow right now.” His look was so pitiful it almost made me angry. “I’m fine Finn I promise. I just know whatever they announce will be horrible and I’d rather hear it from both of you than from any of them”

“I get it.” He trailed off, for once looking lost for words, “Thanks for bringing more lunch stuff over, Mags said she thought you’d be coming. I’ll sort it out.” I reached over and held his hand tightly for a moment before releasing him, slipping closer to Mags as he retreated to the kitchen. She just met me with a look that made me spin on my heel and follow after him. He had clearly been invited over today with the intentions of the two of us speaking.

I stood in the doorway of her large kitchen, taking the time to look him over properly. His colour may be returning but he did look tired, unusual bags under his eyes and a certain hunch in his shoulders. I needed to know what was wrong, or at least let him know I was worried, that I was here.

He started pulling bits out of bags, the food shortage was pretty much over now and those treats from other Districts were making their way to the markets. I joined him, passing him ruby red apples that reminded me so closely of blood it felt wrong holding them. I lingered when handing the last one to him. “Finnick," His eyes flickered to me, but he moved along to the basin, running water over the fruit. “Whatever is wrong you know you can tell me.”

“It’s nothing. And you have plenty to deal with rather than worry about me.” He places the bowl down with a little more force than necessary. “There’s nothing to worry about because it’s done. This year we do what we always do in the Capitol and we wait for them to deal with Katniss if they haven’t already...” My stomach twists and he continues, “It won’t be too long until their wedding. They keep showing programmes on it.”

I scoffed a little, “Since when did you sit and watch ‘Capitol Propaganda television’?”

“It’s not by choice.” This time my brow furrowed and he sensed my question, “I’ve been spending time with someone,” he saw my mouth open, “It’s not a big thing Elle, you don’t even know her.”

I felt oddly like someone had just slapped me across the face and twisted my torso back to the bag, grabbing out the meat I had purchased. It's hard to keep my voice level, “How long has that been going on then?” Peeking through my hair he shrugged. “Have you told her anything about...” I didn’t need to finish my thought.

“Of course not. And I won’t." I deserve the knife edge along his words, "Really, it’s nothing. It doesn’t mean anything.”

That didn’t comfort me. For some reason the thought of him being with someone here, and it meaning nothing stung. We were home, surely if he was going to dive into a relationship, or anything at all it had to mean something. The Capitol forced that on us there, here we had choice.

I suppose it just cemented that I was not a realistic choice. My sad little pipe dream was just that.

I swallowed down several comments, none of them kind and go for the blandest option, “So, what dress did you vote for?”

A wave of jealousy I didn’t know existed crashed into me.