Annie had completely shut herself off from the world the second the peacekeepers had snatched her out of District Four and dragged her wailing body onto a hovercraft plagued with a Capitol symbol. She hadn’t had a clue as to what had been happening with the rebellion; for her own safety she had been left in the dark, completely oblivious to the changes that were coming, but that didn’t make it easier. If anything, it made it scarier. Finnick might’ve been dead in the arena and then she was being separated from Ivory, too much had happened for her to handle and for the most part during the weeks she had been locked in the Capitol, she completely shut down and blocked everything out. Every now and then she would surface to whisper through the bars to Peeta, one half of the star crossed lovers who was as sweet as he appeared on television despite the constant torture she knew he was going through, though it was never long before thoughts of her love and sister filled her mind, or a peacekeeper was barking at her, and everything became too much again. At one point, her tattered sundress was stripped away and replaced by nothing but a sheet, but she was so far gone that even that barely registered until she was running for dear life towards Finnick in a District she had thought was blown to bits ages ago.
But then, suddenly, everything was okay. Dark cells were replaced by the greyness of District Thirteen, horrifying screams of torture that never stopped echoing through her ears being shushed and silenced by Finnick’s whispers in her ear telling her that it was okay, that she was safe now. She was alive, he was alive, Ivory was alive. Everyone was okay. They were together, and they were safe, and that was all that mattered whether she believed it was real or not. From that point on, nothing would separate them again. He was hers, and she was his. For good.
Doctors threw out a lot of words at them, about therapies and assessments and other things she paid no attention to, just like always when Doctors had spewed words at them. The only one she even slid her eyes over to look at was Mrs Everdeen or little Primrose, both of whom treated her like a person and not a patient that needed a long stay in the infirmary. They understood that right now being with her family was the best treatment and, with having enough on their plate with Peeta’s condition, left Finnick and Ivory in charge of showing her the ropes and settling her in. After a few days she’d have to return for an assessment, but for now, they were free to hole up in the tiny room the two of them would now share if they so chose. And that was exactly what Annie wanted to do. The first day, as soon as she had been helped with getting dressed and released from the hospital wing of the District, she wanted to do nothing more than lie with Finnick and bask in the feeling of safety she knew neither of them had felt in a long, long while. From the moment she saw him she knew the last few months had been pure torture for him, as well, and asking if he just wanted to rest would have been silly when she already knew his answer.
“Finnick,” She whispered from her place in his arms to get his attention a good while later. One of her hands, forever shaky but dainty, reached up to brush his hair out of his eyes so she could take a second just to look at him. He looked different. Not the pretty, charming boy that would be dolled up for the Capitol, but her Finnick, only more exhausted. He seemed real, but he didn’t smell like the sea. Nothing smelled like home here. “I can’t believe you’re right here. You are here, right? Real?” They had so much to talk about, from what the hell had happened with the rebellion, to where they were, to what had happened with Mags, but it all seemed like too much to tackle. Maybe little bits would be better for them both.
