run, run, run away —

She bites her lip as she looks at Thea. She knew Thea had wanted her to go. That didn't change how guilty she felt though. "Didn't mean I had to do it though" Cadence had always had a problem with following instructions. She supposed she might not have actually made it onto the hover if it hadn't been for Brutus. That was just some more added guilt. Brutus might have been alive if it wasn't for her. But she knew it wasn't worth going too much into that now. It was in the past, and even if she regretted it, she couldn't change the past. "Xio's not here. I don't' know where she is." And she didn't really care. Cadie was pretty certain Xio didn't care where she was either. At the mention of Brutus tears automatically fill Cadence's eyes, and she had to fight to keep even more tears from falling down her cheeks. She still hadn't fully come to terms with the fact that Brutus was gone. For so long he'd been a somewhat paternal figure in her life. He'd been the first adult she'd trusted after her father had died and her mother abandoned her. It had taken her a long time to even trust Brutus. So for him to gone, it was something she really did not to believe.

"He's gone." She murmured, swiping away at the tears. She assumed that Ezra had told Thea. It felt bittersweet. She had gotten Thea and Enobaria back, but had lost Brutus. It felt so long ago that they were all in District 2. Sometimes, at night, she wished they could be back there, despite all the horrible things that had come with it. At least her family had been complete then. Back before she'd lost Clove. Before she'd lost Brutus. "He's gone.... and he died hating me....." Her hand loosens Thea's a little, scared that her remaining mentor would dislike her too. "It's all my fault." Of course she was being overly dramatic. Getting her here might have been the reason why Brutus had ended up in 13, but she had told him to join the rescue mission. But maybe if she hadn't joined the rebellion he'd have still been alive. Or maybe they'd have both been stuck in the Capitol cells too. Her mind was full of so many "What Ifs" and it was hard to deal with.

And Brutus — she'd assumed he was here with Cadence, that he'd been with her when they fled the Capitol that night. But Cadie's words wreak havoc on her already muddled mind, alarm bells of confusion ringing through her thoughts. He's gone, she'd just said. He died hating me. That couldn't be true, could it? Surely someone would have told her if he was truly dead — or maybe they had? Thea wracks her brain for moments and pieces of the last few days here, but they're all blurred and jumbled, and she can't quite pull any specific memory from her mind. It's a terrifying feeling, something she's only felt in the aftermath of a nightmare or Capitol drug-induced haze. But this is different — it's as though her mind is purposely keeping itself from allowing her to remember anything. Her brows furrow as her gaze shifts to Cadence, unfocused and afraid. "He isn't dead," she murmurs, almost matter-of-factly even though she's got no idea if that's true or not. "He was with you. He is with you."

She offered Thea a small smile in return for her own attempt to smile. What had Delly done that the other nurses hadn't? But she certainly wasn't going to complain about it. "You are in luck they signed off for you to have water this morning," She informed Thea. "Would you like it sort of cold or mostly room temperature? There aren't a lot of options," Delly told her softly, glancing around to make sure nobody heard her comment. "I think that that's normal, but it sounds terrible. I'm sorry," Delly apologized, even though she wasn't the one giving the medicine, and the medicine was for Thea's own good they said. She shook her head. "I'm not really a nurse so they don't tell me much. I'm just a volunteer. I like to stay busy," she explained. Especially now, she didn't add but she wanted to. Thea had been there with Peeta. Did she know what they had done to him?

Thea listens quietly as the young girl explains things to her, tilts her head slightly when she mentions she's a volunteer. Why anyone would subject themselves to the torture of caring for malnourished, broken captives of the Capitol is beyond Thea, but she's certainly grateful for it. Her mind brings her back to what she thinks must be the real reason for Delly's voluntary exposure on the horrors they've faced — the boy from Twelve. And since she's got no interest in upsetting Katniss Everdeen with her probing questions, Thea figures this girl may very well be her key to getting answers. "You know Peeta Mellark?" It's a question, of course, but it comes out more accusatory than anything, and Thea has to remind herself that she is trying to be kind. "He is here, yes?"

thea confirms it herself as she expressed her concerns about him staying here. the tug of war never becomes easier, rather frayed rope burns skin. he never faults her for how she sleeps. it's not like she has many places to turn for her nightmares. maybe the capitol ... but it all feels a bit oxymoronic: the goliath of the city providing aid for the very actions that the monster itself caused ? or even worse, her confessing what she sees and feels and them deeming her some sort of threat ? his steady descent into the rebellion already might be putting a marker on her, even if intention is protect her and others from the tyrants. the last thing needed is more ammunition for snow and other government officials deciding to take measures in their own hands. the only arms he wants around thea ellis is his own.

“You do so much for me.” The admission comes out in a pained whisper, eyes squeezing tighter still before she forces herself to look at him. It’s evident even now, with the pancakes he’s just made to perfection cooling on the countertop and the gentle way he holds her hands and tells her he’ll do what she wants and what she needs, that he’d allow himself to endure her delirious and deranged episodes if it means she’ll feel safe when she wakes up. He does that for her, provides comfort and peace for her. The only things she can provide him with are silly trinkets she finds on her walks and haircuts if her hands are steady enough that day and vacant stares and the pain of watching her deteriorate — all she does is take and take and take. 

He takes a moment to consider if Thea is the same. Was her icy front a cover for the worry she was holding on to? Or was she truly so unbothered? Either way, there would be no judgment. If Finnick had learned anything his (short, in comparison to some of the other mentors around) time as a victor, they all dealt with it in their own way, and who was he to say how she should be feeling at a time like this? So even if it were an act, she had shown up, and that was more than what could be said for some of their peers. Finnick couldn’t imagine leaving those kids all alone, not when he was their mediocre last line of defense.

The man takes the quiet moment as an opportunity to stretch before swiveling his chair around to face her. He offers a shrug. I thought you might be the same. The implication was not lost on him, but again, her skewed perception of him wasn’t any of his business. Not tonight, at least. “And risk missing out on such thrilling action?” Finnick motioned to the monitor behind him that was still displaying a sleeping pair of tributes. “Never. There’s no place I’d rather be than right here. You, me, and our good ol’ sponsor friends.”

“Looks like you’ve got your action.” Even as Thea says it, she nearly grimaces — if he’s being truly honest and this is fun for him, that’s all well and good, but watching the children she’s supposed to help live come face to face with a certain death will never been fun for her. She shifts slightly in her seat, back rigid as she readies herself to send whatever supplies she deems appropriate in the moment, but it’s the realization that she may as well try to work with Finnick while they’re both here and their tributes are aligned that keeps her from shutting herself off from him completely. Glancing over at him, she decides to feed her own curiosity as to whether he’s truly interested in what’s about to happen. “It seems they’re coming from the north side — they may attack from the high ground if they can manage to scale it.”

annie cresta knows what's coming. they all get choked up in the cells, some more often than others. but it's in the way that thea acts like looking the woman from four in the eye will turn her into a beautiful statue of stone that is annie's first confirmation. it's hard not to let the woe wash over her own features, like the rain that can clear district four during storm season. it stops in lungs that freeze over. air cannot seem to move as she's desperate not to let tears flow. lids squeeze shut. ( waterfalls can and will roam freely when she's curled up in that uncomfortable cot near the back of her cell later. ) she can't even call it all a twisted bluff. she's heard what thea has heard. she knows finn like she knows herself. there's no way she can deny the now silenced screams. and it seems hers left with his too, as a dreary stillness fills the space between annie's cell to the woman from two's. there had been a delusional hope that maybe finn had not been seperated from their boy, that somehow they had gotten reunited. reality shakes her earth. snow will toss her scraps and all. if baby cas survives the rebellion, he'll know neither of his parents. they won't even be a faint memory, he's that young.

Then she started to speak and his eyes opened wide, fixing on her as he waited to see whether she’d play the saviour or leave him to drown. She tossed him a lifeline ( a surprise and one he’s not sure he’s done enough to deserve ) and he grasped hold of it, standing up quickly. He can’t say anything more, not yet, but he’s beginning to feel like he can breathe again or at least start to come up for air. There’s a curt nod given to her, his usual way with words evading him when he could barely string together a coherent thought let alone form a sentence.

Throat is cleared and eyes shifted towards the door, eyeing the exit like it's some sort of salvation. He'd feel better once he was out of this room, right? It was just stuffy in there, nothing some fresh air wouldn't cure. "Sure, not like I've got anything better to do." Voice is gruff and he practically scuffs his feet over the floor, acting the part of the brooding teenager he'd never really been. It's a thought that made him consider once again how much he might have lost by being so fixated on glory, one he's quick to swallow down.

It's not a thought he wanted to keep turning over in his head so he started to move towards to door, finally finding it in himself to voice some kind of gratitude. "Thanks. I'll try anything."

Thea doesn’t tell him as much, though; at least not yet. Instead she looks around briefly before they exit, ensuring no one is following them before she slips outside. A few moments pass, they turn on to an empty street, and only then is Thea comfortable enough to truly speak her mind. “When I first started mentoring, I thought maybe it might be better. There were less appointments,” she looks at him pointedly as they walk, knowing too well that Helios will understand what she means by that. It’s no secret that she’d once been the prize of the Capitol, but newer and shinier toys have of course come out of the Games in the years since then. Still, that doesn’t mean she’s been exempt from her victor duties outside of mentoring and from what she can tell, he isn’t either. “I hoped, like you, that over time it might get easier to watch them die, and it’d be worth not having to perform as often. But I won’t lie to you and say it does. Losing them…” The tributes, the children she’s failed to protect in the last ten years — Thea takes a moment to remember them before she continues. “It will stay with you forever.”

the entire mission occurred in the spam of maybe not even an hour. ( he hasn't actually confirmed that with anyone, people have been busy. ) it felt much longer, maybe due to a combination of tension and every moment without thea ellis was a moment that dragged. from hovercraft to thirteen to the hospital wing was much more vast in length - yet it felt like those events happened much faster. there's a blink and something else arises. maybe he should feel bad about it, but the only thing on his mind is thea. into the earliest hours of day sixty-one, anything that doesn't have to do with the love of his life merely gets met with klair going through the motions. and in truth, he's not sure how long that undeniable haze will shadow him.

hospital staff doesn't brush him away like they do many others. seeing the now freed captive sedated and restrained is haunting. it's a pairing of wanting to continue to be allowed access to thea as well as trusting certain staff when they say it's for her safety that causes ezra to be able to hold back his tongue - for now. she looks like an angel when she sleeps, even after months of torment. a few hours of thea being soundly resting, and ezra's eyes follow suit.

tech squad is able to aid in the opening of the entrances of the cell cages. it makes opening the door to thea's facilities easy. it's just him that wanders in. later on, he'll wonder if juniper had extended a kindness to him be allotting that. ( maybe one day he'll even ask her. ) thought doesn't enter his subconscious at the moment however. instead, heart aches. it looks like snow and his cronies left thea there to rot. bruises and blood freckle thea's emaciated body, looking not that different from how he assumes she did when she first left the arena. " thea, " it's all that can leave his choked up throat. it's soft, even if a desperate scream wants to leave him. they have to be careful ; he has to be careful. who knows when more peacekeepers will be alerted to the rebels ? quickly, he gets closer to her. he kneels down, before taking her into strong arms. they have to be careful.

Now, that moment is the fuel to her increasing confusion. This all seems too real. The scrape of Ezra’s chair against the floor, the hands that find her own. They are perfectly calloused in a way she’s learned by heart over and over again through decades — she’s tracked their lives together through the roughness of his palms. Part of Thea had always hoped he never stopped working for that very reason, despite the fact that she was adamant about him deserving an early retirement; it was simply to easy to remind herself that they were living and growing through the story his hands would tell each time she held them. 

She thinks that may have been what crushed her the most when she watched him die in front of her — the fact that she’d never hold those hands in hers again. But that was only part of her agony, of course. Thea may have been almost completely out of her mind by then, and she may have hazy memories and no understanding of her surroundings now, but she is acutely aware of everything that encompassed Ezra’s death. It would be difficult to forget the way her heart shattered, the distinct feeling of loss that overtook her when she watched as her other half was ripped away from her. It had been her driving force in thinking he was the one saving her from the purgatory she’d been sentenced to. 

With ease, he’d lifted her from a floor stained with her own blood, and Thea had allowed that moment to be the one that brought her peace. Laid against his chest, she’d resigned herself to her fate in the arms of the man she loved most, and the world went dark as she succumbed to death. 

Or at least, so she’d thought.

Friendships had once seemed to be something entirely out of his reach, no matter how much he grasped and stretched for them he had been so denied them during his childhood in Seven. A lonely existence but one that had just made him all the more grateful for the bonds that he had managed to forge throughout his years as a Victor. It helped that they had all existed in the same fire that the Capitol kept fixed on them, providing the perfect crucible for their bonds to harden and strengthen, melting down even the most stubborn of them. He would never be able to pinpoint the moment that he won Thea over, if it had even been a single moment, only that he was glad that somewhere along the way he had. She wasn't the only one that he'd anxiously awaited news from when it came to the rescue but there was no denying that he'd felt her absence keenly.

He'd waited his turn to see her, as well as waiting to have enough time that he could spend with her guilt free with all his other commitments taken care of. Throat is cleared in an attempt to dislodge the rising lump of emotion forming there. “Thea.” Her name is said quietly when the last thing he wants is to disturb her. Silence hovers in the air between them as he walked further into the room, wondering what exactly was the right thing to say at times like these. But his strength had never been in finding the perfect words to make someone feel better but rather in his steady, quiet company which he had always hoped spoke volumes. If nothing else, he hoped it made them feel less alone. “I’m glad you’re back.” Were the only words he could offer Thea, thick with emotion that would probably never be given voice, as he took a seat next to her bed and prepared to spend however long she needed in silence.

Through it all, she hasn’t had much of any confirmation of Thatcher’s fate. She remembers hearing his screams. She remembers seeing him die along with everyone else, remembers the agony she felt at the loss of her dear friend, and the worry that came when she thought of little Lennox. But now he’s here, sitting by her bedside and Thea starts wondering how she could be so lucky that almost everyone she cares about, and everyone she thought she’d lost, has turned out to be safe. “You’re real too.” The words are accompanied with some semblance of finality, as if she might refuse to hear it if he tries to tell her otherwise — but what she’s really seeking is a confirmation she can’t quite seem to get a grasp on yet. Everyone has told her the same, but Thea will ask anyone who will listen to her to confirm that she’s truly here and this isn’t all just a dream — and especially, she'll ask those she’d thought she lost. “I watched you die with all the others.”

so she stays, the hand that was extended to offer warmth moving downwards with a nimble expertise — she's made and unmade knots until her fingers bled over the past week, and the experience allows her to undo the straps that tie thea down swiftly. there is something to say about her carelessness then, when she has just barely recovered from the last assault, but if that one hadn't killed her, maybe she would be gladdened if this alleged one did. her face twists, a ghost of a smile that goes by too quickly, at the better sight — thea is by no means whole, but at least she no longer seems like a tied down animal.

It could also be that, despite her years of training in the art of murder, Thea very clearly isn’t a threat anymore.

Once she is fully oriented to her surroundings she realizes that the machines around her are likely there to help her heal. The Capitol would never put such resources into her wellbeing, not after she’d tried to strangle Caesar Flickerman to death on national television and all but denounced the Capitol’s cruelty. So she is in Thirteen with Katniss Everdeen unless they’ve taken them both somewhere else, and she’s just started to work through what that means when Katniss speaks up again. Confused, she looks sharply toward the girl. “You were captured?” It doesn’t make sense — Katniss is the face of Thirteen, the doll of the rebel forces. Thea hadn’t known much in her cell, but she knew they punished Peeta for it at the very least. It’s only then that Thea notices the collar around the girl’s neck, a telltale sign of some kind of abuse she must be recovering from. It makes her stomach turn, blood going cold and she tries to shrink further into the hospital bed — because if Thirteen can treat their most prized victor this way, how will they treat a woman who has called them monsters in front of the entire nation?