Came For The Girl And Got The Monster Instead.

“We all wore masks when we had to. All of us,” Fi replies, voice low, taut like a wire stretched too tight. She doesn’t dare say more—not with unseen cameras nestled in the foliage and Capitol eyes dissecting every syllable, every flicker of expression. But maybe it’s already too late for caution.

“Some of us just forgot to take them off when no one was filming.” She counts herself among them. She always has. Both of them Capitol-made, Capitol used. Victors, yes, but also commodities dressed in trauma and teeth.

Fi places a deliberate weight on the word filming, like pressing a bruise. A reminder to Fox, as if either of them could forget exactly where they were. The fucking quarter quell. This wasn’t a forest. It was a stage. With no doubt millions of cameras taking them in from every angle.

She steps forward slowly, her boots crunching over dead leaves and brittle vine too loud in the hush of the jungle. The air hangs thick with the scent of rot and something sweeter, sickly, like overripe fruit gone to mold. Sweat beads at her spine, a crawling itch beneath her collar. Her gaze cuts to the faux treestall, silent sentinels. Were they even alive? Had they ever been? A jabberjay flits into view, black wings slicing the air, then vanishes again. Just long enough to remind them: it was always listening. Maybe remembering, too.

Back in the Capitol, she imagines the viewers leaning in, catching every breath, every glance, the rumor machine grinding its teeth bloody. Ecstatic at confirmation of what they’d long suspected.

“I lied to survive. I still know which side I’m on. Ours,” Fi blurts, unable to stomach the silence any longer, the space between them stretched too thin, too dangerous. She would not apologise for protecting Fox. “They had two Victors last year, Fox. There could be again. It could be us.”

1) Fi’s reaping was rigged (yes I subscribe to that theory) Fi was ‘adopted’ by Red a victor, Snow made sure that she was reaped in return for Red not doing something or not continuing to play the game outside of the arena won when she was 17. ‘The odds are not in that families favor.’

2) Fi comes from district 7 and is heavily inspired by Joanna’s story (as I find that mega interesting and want to explore that story more as I love her in the books) Fi pretended to be weak, and hid most of her games, even though Red ‘trained ‘ her just in case -so essentially she is a career (She was lucky there was no large bodies of water in the area when she became a victor. Red made sure after she won that she could swim 75th games anyone as Fi would not have played snows game ie selling the victors to the highest bidder) has been known to drug her buyers.

3)Fi is skilled with knives and axes due to her district and is skilled in manipulation due to her mother being abusive- has some herbal medicinal knowledge. Fi cried appearing ‘weak’when she was reaped. Her small stature made her appear like she was not a threat.

4) Loves the forest/ plants is where she feels at home.

5) if in the 75th- did agree to help the rebellion get Katniss and Peeta out aka like JM.

6) could have been a failed mockingjay for the rebellion- but because of the way that she won no one could trust her.

Let them think she was soft. Their mistake.

Just let her fingers tremble as she brushed the handle of a mid-sized throwing knife, the way someone unsure might test if it was real. The glint of steel caught in the overhead lights, cold and clean and familiar. The knives weren’t an axe, but would do just as well to teach a lesson to the girl from one - who quite frankly deserved a knife throwing at her due to the way she was treating everyone.

Feet sound beside her and Fi raises her eyes to see a blonde - the girl from 8, and gives a fleeting smile before dropping her gaze again to the floor ‘Sorry.’ She mumbles starting to move away from the station.

The words don’t hit like a warning. They settle instead, low and quiet, drifting across the room and curling around her like smoke — slow, clinging, impossible to ignore.

Don’t read too much into that.

Too late, she thinks, her chest tightening at the sting of realisation. It was already way too late.

Fi watches him, her eyes tracing the hard line of his jaw, the way his arms fold like a wall he’s used to building to keep her out- years thick. The motel light flickers once, casting him in flickers of amber and shadow, and all she can think is how far away he suddenly feels even from six feet across the room.

She swallows hard pushing her feelings down deep. “I won’t,” she says in a light tone. Her voice is soft, but even she can hear the cracks about the edges. Truth has a way of breaking things open and this is Dean.

Moving before she can talk herself out of it, her fingers brush the edge of his flannel sleeve, if’s touch is tentative, barely eventhere. She doesn’t take his hand, just rests her touch against him like a question she’s too afraid to ask out loud.

“Even if I did — I’m not going anywhere, Dean.” she says, eyes locked on his clear and steady. “I’m not trying to push you, Dean. I just…” but I’m still here.” Her voice drops to a near-whisper. “I will always be here.”