#(he's restrained)

The cell is dark and quiet around Farouk, lit by harsh purple lights from the walls and the blinking lights from the halo on his head. He’s sitting cross-legged, meditating - as if lost in his own mind.

The water felt like a cool slap, having been thrown directly onto his face. Jerking awake, Finnick almost fell off the dodgy cot, righting himself and turning to meet the thick Capitol accent that had woken him. Two guards stared back at him from behind the bars – the man he recognised, the woman he didn’t. Neither, he thought, were Rebels, though he wasn’t sure if he should be nervous or thankful about that.

“It’s the third already? Wow. Time flies,” he commented casually, although his voice came out much quieter than intended. His immediate thought asked how they knew his birthday, but clearly the Capitol had kept all their files. “Wow indeed,” the same woman replied enthusiastically. Finnick glanced over at Kol to make sure the vampire was awake. It was clearly still very early – Finn felt like he’d only just fallen asleep. No one had been told to wake up and move yet either. No one but him. “I’ve got a little present for you, to celebrate,” she continued, and Finnick’s heart sped up, squeezing with dread. But it wasn’t like he hadn’t been expecting this. It made sense that he’d be taken first – always the Capitol’s favourite.

“Bellamy, if you would.” She nodded at the male next to her before winking back at Finn. “I’ll see you soon, golden boy.” Finnick nearly flinched at the nickname, but composed himself and smirked at her, knowing full well what they were trying to do. With that, she left the cell block, leaving the former victor to face the other guard he now knew as Bellamy. The younger man met his eyes, and Finnick waited for some sarcastic or threatening remark. But none came. In fact, after studying him for a moment, the man simply looked away, and went about opening his cell. He didn’t try and grab Finnick either, something that the blonde was grateful for, and as he walked himself out, he nodded at Kol. “I’ll be fine.” At least, he’d try to be.

“This way,” Bellamy interrupted. Without another word and one hand on his gun, the guard led him to a room that felt miles away. It reminded Finnick of the ones he used to parade around in, in various Capitol estates. Stark white and sound proof – so no one could hear you scream. “ – ah, there you are! Thank you, Bellamy.” The woman had been waiting for them, and as silently as they’d walked, Bellamy left the room, the sliding door audibly locking behind him. “Mr. Odair, have a seat, darling.” She gestured to what Finnick believed was an examination table, and with no hesitation and a light smirk on his face, he did just that. Looking around, he took note of the various instruments in the room, and the few cameras that seemed to circle him. Nothing else told him what was about to happen. “I’ll be just a moment. The best birthday surprises need to be well executed, after all.” Her comment cut through the silence, Finn’s eyes moving to stare at her back as she adjusted something, silent and careful. “How old are you today?”

It wasn’t a question he’d been expecting, so he didn’t answer for a moment. But clearly he’d waited a moment too long, for she’d already turned on him, eyes narrowing. “If there’s one thing to know about me, Mr. Odair, it’s that I don’t like being ignored. You will answer the questions I ask you, understood?” Tempted to ask her name, Finnick lifted his lips, forcing a smile. “Of course. My apologies. I’m twenty nine today.” She gave him a smile of her own, before returning to her work. “There’s those golden manners. How exciting. Which reminds me – I do believe a congratulations is in order!” She whirled around again, lifting some sort of clamp stand over to his table. “Congratulations?” Finnick asked, gaze trailing warily after her. “Yes! For your wedding.” He froze. “You didn’t think we wouldn’t notice your wedding ring, did you? Now let me guess.. Miss Cresta? She is the mother of your son, isn’t she?” The woman sounded so conversational, Finnick forced himself to remain smiling; though his jaw had started to hurt from clenching it. “That’s right. And thank you. For the congratulations,” he added pointedly.

She nodded in acknowledgement, moving to the far wall. “It’s such a shame they aren’t here to help celebrate your special day.” Finnick’s stomach turned at the thought. “I really did want to surprise you with your family for your birthday. But seeing as we’re.. unclear of their whereabouts, we’ll just have to bring you to your family instead.” With a nod of her head, she gestured toward the cameras. Finnick had done his best to avoid looking at them, but it was hard not to now, the panic in his chest rising. Now he really did have to keep up his front. He would not let his family know he’d been the first taken, and the first to break. “Shirt off.”

With now shaking hands, Finnick tugged off the fabric and averted his gaze from the lenses. Every thought running through his mind told him to run, but he didn’t move a muscle. Gazing at his bare skin, she continued, now handling what looked like a hose. “I believe the next best thing after family, is home. I hear you’re a fan of water? District Four does have the nicest beaches.” Eyeing the hose now, Finnick nodded. “Lie down, Finnick,” she snapped, her tone changing completely. Gone was her passive aggressive banter, and Finnick’s smirk slipped in its place. As he did what she’d asked, she screwed the hose into the clamp, and adjusted it so it hovered right above his forehead. Swallowing nervously, Finnick stared into the nozzle, a thousand questions rushing through his mind. He was so focused on hiding his fear, he didn’t notice the woman circling him, reaching for restraints. But he’d been tied down many times before, and even though every inch of him begged him to move, he managed to remain still once they were in place. There’s no point in struggling. It’ll be over soon.

The head plate was the last thing to be attached, and soon Finnick couldn’t move at all. For someone who he thought loved the sound of her own voice, the woman was now awfully quiet. Finnick tried to turn his head, keep an eye on her, but he saw nothing, the sound of a tap being turned his only clue. The woman retreated then, and after wishing him a happy birthday, she flicked off the lights, leaving the victor in total darkness. There was a quiet beep, and suddenly he was illuminated by the lights attached to the cameras, allowing him to see the hose and nothing else. Clearly he was being recorded now. Man, he had not missed that. Finnick took a deep breath as the first few drops hit his forehead, cold and alarmingly refreshing. He could get through this, for his family. For any captive and Rebel watching. He just had to take his mind elsewhere.

Of course, that was much easier said than done, for every time Finnick’s mind drifted off, a drop on his head dragged him back to the present. Closing his eyes only made him feel more exhausted, since he couldn’t fall asleep like this. Now irritated and out of options, he chose to watch the water instead, and time his breathing to every drop. He’d always found water comforting; like he was receiving hug from his parents every time it touched his skin. But staring at the water had been the wrong call. Staring was what made you crazy. There was nothing even about the patterns, no way of knowing when the next drop would come. The water only grazed his face, and yet his whole body shuddered at every drip. Minutes passed and soon turned to hours; but to Finnick, it felt like days.

Drip.

Half a day had passed now, and he was shivering uncontrollably. Every now and then the cameras powered down, cutting the broadcast and leaving him in total darkness. In those hours he thought of Annie, of his little boy, of how much he wished he could hold them; but the water kept slamming him back to reality. By the afternoon, it felt as if his forehead was pushing into his brain right at the spot the water touched, like someone had their finger pressed there and wouldn’t let up. It was an itch he couldn’t scratch, no matter how much he moved around on the table. Finnick flexed and relaxed his hands, arched his back, blinked his eyes – anything to dodge that drop. But it fell every time, relentless and accurate against his skin. He was breathing so hard he thought he might pass out. He knew this feeling, knew he was suffering from a panic attack, but his anxiety hadn’t been this bad in years. No, only the Capitol could do that to him.

He’d tried for hours not to make a sound, to not let them have the satisfaction, but he couldn’t help it anymore. He grunted every time the water hit, moaned for the woman to let him go, to at least let him breathe. There was no way of knowing if the water on his face was from his tears or the hose, but he was sure he’d cried at least three times. It was so hard to know what was going on when all sense of time and place had left him. Annie’s name left his lips time and time again, calling for her in the darkness. Somewhere deep down he knew that as long as she was okay, it was all worth it. But it was hard to remember that amongst his panicked thoughts.

Drop.

He was crying for his brother now, begging Kol to get him out of there. It was well into the night, and exhaustion was getting the better of him, numbing his whole body. He could feel nothing except the crawling sensation across his forehead, the water dripping down his temples and onto the table, pooling at his shoulders. The cameras flicked back on, and once again, Finnick was flooded with light. “No,” he whispered as he saw the water drop forming, falling hard onto his face. And then it formed again. And again. And again.

It was nearly midnight when Bellamy returned. Finally, finally the water stopped. But it didn’t feel like it. Bell turned on the harsh lights and released his limbs, only Finnick was paralysed, unable to do anything but blink at the ceiling. He was still suffering from a panic attack, something Bellamy recognised but knew he couldn’t do anything about. At least the cameras had shut off permanently this time, so the guard was able to help him sit up. “I can’t take you back, not until tomorrow. And you can’t have any food until then either. Got it?” Finnick heard the voice and nodded fast despite not registering the words, willing now to do whatever the Capitol wanted, as long as they didn’t turn that tap back on. In his experience, saying yes had always been easier.

“Alright then. Just.. keep breathing in.” After a hard look, Bellamy left him alone again, this time with the fluorescent lights and white walls. Clutching to his balled up shirt, Finnick slid to the cold floor, back against the table leg, every part of him shaking.