EACH DAY THAT PASSED WAS hell. Finnick wouldn't deny it. With every day Aella spent as a hostage in the Capitol the hole in his chest cleaved larger and larger. He stopped thinking about when he would get her back and started wondering how much of her he'd get back—if any at all. They had made no further contact, aired no further interviews to say she was alive or anything of the sort. All he had to go on was hope, sheer hope that she was still fighting like hell wherever they had her. That they weren't chipping away at her walls with every passing second.

She was still so fragile when hit in the right spots and he knew without a shadow of a doubt they would be exploiting her every weakness—Snow would be ordering them to do so. He just hoped she had enough function left inside of her to pull herself out of the shell she curled into whenever she was attacked. It had taken him hours in the Games, sitting on that jungle floor after they'd used both him and her brother to ignite fear in her, to try and drive her to the edge of insanity...

What if they had already done it? What if there was no clawing her way back anymore. If she was stuck forever.... What would he do then if he could never get her back?

It plagued him. It kept him awake at night while his hand laid across her side of the bed. It had his thoughts racing when he held her pillow in his arms and inhaled her fading scent. It made him wonder how he'd coped all those years not having her... made him wonder if they should ever have gotten involved before the war had been won. But even then, if she had been captured by the Capitol he'd of still gone mad. The only thing he wouldn't have was knowing what her lips felt like against his, knowing how she kissed, seeing that pure joyous gleam in her eyes whenever she smiled... hearing her infectious laugh.

He missed it, every damn day he missed her so much it physically hurt to breathe. He hadn't known when he'd become so dependent on her but he hadn't cared that he had. Perhaps it made him a lesser man.. that he couldn't function without her by his side but it was something he had accepted. He didn't want to live in a world where she wasn't by his side and he had made that choice that night they spent in his apartment quarters within the Tribute Centre the night before the Games.

The world continued to move on. The rebellion—the brewing war—continued to rage in their favour. The propaganda video they had released of Aella had gone down better than a fresh catch back home. The Districts were rising each day and reports of rebellion were flooding in at such a rate they couldn't keep on top of them all.

Finnick was so proud of what she had done yet he only wished she were there with him to hear what her actions had sparked. He wished she knew just how much she was turning this war in their favour. Allies were forming everywhere and it was all down to Aella and Katniss.

He had been called up to Command for the latest update nine days after they'd released Aella's video—nine whole days of no news, of wondering and waiting—and even then it wasn't the update Finnick was expecting to receive. He thought he was walking in expecting to hear development of where Snow might be keeping her, that Beetee might've narrowed down the possibilities even further but it wasn't. Beetee had no news on that regard. Instead, Heavensbee had been the only one who had shown up and he had told them that they had received word that District Seven had launched an attack against Peacekeepers the night prior.

Finnick struggled to bring himself to be enthusiastic over it. He couldn't really feel anything other than the pounding disappointment in his heart. Didn't particularly care in that moment in time that it had been Aella's actions that had spurred them into it. He'd barely listened as Heavensbee told him that workers had rebelled against the new Capitol laws and had laid out traps among the forests in which they worked. When the time had been most opportune, midway into the citizens—now rebels—escort to work by the Peacekeepers they had scaled the trees and set land mines off killing hundreds of Peacekeepers before fleeing North to a resistance that was rising within the boarders of District Seven.

All he could seem to remember was that Johanna had once told him about the boarders to the North of Seven. Every District had their old wives tales, stories to scare the children into submission, the boarders North of Seven had been the subject of their stories. A drunk night during a Games—because he really couldn't recall which—following Aella and Johanna's respective wins had the trio gossiping about the foolish things they'd done as children who had been unawares of the horrors that raged on in their world.

His had been playing out at the beach at the young age of four—despite his mother's warnings to never tread there without her—when the tide washed in and stranded him. Aella's had been playing hide and seek with her friends in the abandoned dam that the Capitol had replaced with the one that stood there that day despite warnings to never go anywhere near the unstable building.

But Johanna's story had been much graver than theirs. She'd told them of how she and her friends had tried to escape—to run into the unclaimed lands surrounding District Seven—and run away from the Capitol and Panem. Thirty of them in total had set out, ranging in all ages and Johanna had been one of the youngest at sixteen. They planned to head to the Northern boarder where whispers of a safe heaven free of Capitol tyranny stood. The only thing sitting between that and District Seven were the old land mines that had been used within the first war—many left unused due to the early falling of District Seven.

Thirty had set out and only eleven had returned—had been forced to turn around and head back—and Johanna was one of them.

Finnick remembered her telling of the story well despite how drunk they all had been. He remembered the somber expression that had claimed his best friend's usually stoic face. He saw the sorrow and horror in her eyes as she recalled the story. Four months later Johanna's had turned seventeen and her name had been pulled out of the reaping bowl.

It seemed—according to Heavensbee's sources and recent contact with the save haven-turned-rebel force on the North boarder of District Seven—that the citizens had somehow found the old war plans and maps of where the bombs had been buried and also had found the bombs that had been left unused all those years later. They'd orchestrated the attack and those who had survived had taken every weapon from the Peacekeepers and used the old map to navigate through the passage to the rebel camp, over the Northern boarder without any casualties.

Finnick might've been impressed if the weight of Aella's captivity wasn't looming over his head. He wondered if the Capitol had told Johanna about it, wondered what she might make of it if anything. If she was even still alive at all.

So he wasn't all that enthusiastic about it and had displayed as much when he'd left Command to head for the dining hall. It was mostly empty at that time in the evening—only a few soldiers who had been kept back in training still ate, others lingered on tables talking quietly among themselves with finished plates sitting before them and full bellies. A quick glance around told him no one he knew still remained in the hall and he frowned to himself—a lonely dinner it would be, then.

By the time he had filled his plate and found an empty table he wasn't hungry anymore. The beige food in front of him made his stomach coil and for a brief moment he heard Aella groan in distaste beside him. He turned his head to see her sitting there, disgust in her features as she forked some kind of meat and sniffed it. She pulled her head back with a frown and took a small bite.

She chewed long and hard, gagging occasionally before she said through a mouthful of the mysterious meat, "What the hell is this? Where did they even source it, it's disgusting. Probably isn't even real meat. Probably some kind of mud they've processed into edible food. Oh, god. It's like Coin wants us to leave serving us this."

A smile broadened across his chapped lips as she looked at him with distaste in her eyes and shook her head, "It's not funny Finnick, it's disgusting, try it."

She disappeared before she could shove the meat in his mouth like she had done in his memory. The smile dropped from his lips when he realised she wasn't there and he was alone again. His eyes cast down to his plate where that mysterious meat she'd forced him to try laid. A cream coloured sauce smothered it and the boiled potatoes he'd been served as a side. He took a small bite before cringing, putting his knife and fork back on his plate and forcing himself to chew.

"I know," A familiar voice said from beside him, "It's as bland as shit. I don't think they even know what salt and pepper are down here, never mind basic seasoning." Sam said, his lips pulled upward in distaste as he looked at his own tray he held in his hands. His eyes danced back to Finnick before he asked, "May I?"

Finnick barely swallowed the chewy food in his mouth as he gestured toward the empty chairs. Sam took the seat to his left and stared at his meal, "I miss my mother's broth and I hated that even more than I hate this stuff. At least that had some kind of flavour to it." Finnick barely managed a small smile as Sam lifted his eyes to him and said, "You?"

He met his gaze and responded, "I'm used to the finer dining experience."

"Right." Sam muttered, "Capitol darling."

Finnick scowled at the nickname he used and snapped, "Not by choice."

Sam's features softened and he nodded respectfully, "Sorry." He apologised, a cringe settling on his face as he did so. When he'd first laid eyes on the young Victor—seen Aella look at him with nothing but love and adoration in her eyes—he hadn't been able to think about anything but all the rumours he'd ever heard of Finnick Odiar. That he had swooned and charmed his way into the beds of many of the rich Capitol socialites. That very night Aella had shot down his presumptions in a heated argument after he'd accused Finnick of doing the same to her.

Her words echoed through his head as he beheld the real Finnick Odair sitting in front of him. The man who was still visibly rattled by her captivity. He watched earnestly as Finnick reached into his pocket, pulled out a small piece of rope and began tying it in various knots.

Finnick must've felt his stare because he said without even looking up, "Helps me keep my mind clear."

A coping mechanism, Sam realised. A way to take his thoughts off whatever might be happening to Aella as they spoke. He combed through every inch of knowledge he had gathered about Finnick Odair—about the Victor who had trained Aella to survive, the man who had guarded her back on the outside world when he couldn't, about the man who loved her with every fibre of his heart and more.

There was so much he still didn't know, doubted he'd ever get to find out but... he had made a promise to Josh when they were young. If anything were ever to happen to him—if he were ever reaped and didn't make it back alive—Sam swore to protect and watch over Aella like she was his own sister. He had agreed and Josh had sworn the very same thing to him. They'd only been twelve when they forged that promise but it still held.

Though neither had ever been reaped and had outgrown the reaping he never in a million years expected to open his door to Aella's trembling body two years later as she screamed in anguish and collapsed into his arms in a fit of sobs, crying that her parents, her brother—his best friend—were dead.

Even after Aella had tried to push him and his mother and sister away to protect them from President Snow he never let her wander too far. He always had his eye on her for his best friend and it had been that way ever since. There was nothing he could've done to stop her re-reaping though that visit to District Eight? He should've been there to protect her, much like Finnick thought the same.

Sam had taken over her role as protecter in honour of her brother but he got the impression he didn't need to anymore—that she'd be well protected by Finnick. He'd seen it in the Games with his own eyes. He'd watched him try to find a way to her at the Cornucopia when the Career's chased her down. He'd watched him sprint across the beach to save her from Cashmere. Had watched her set her arm and heal her wounds. He'd seen everything the Capitol had televised and he'd seen even more here in District Thirteen. Had seen the way he cared for her and loved her and protected her.

It wasn't Finnick's fault this had happened to Aella, nor was it his.

Sam cleared his throat after forcing a mouthful of his food down but Finnick kept his eyes on the rope he tied so skilfully, "When Josh and I were twelve we made a pact that should either of us be reaped we'd watch over the others sister." He said, eyes cast to his plate, "Josh was Aella's brother."

"I know who Josh was." Was Finnick's response, "She talks about him all the time... talked. I'm not sure anymore."

"Neither am I." Sam frowned, "I keep telling myself I should've been on that mission. I keep picturing Josh telling me I failed."

Finnick nodded, "I know the feeling."

His blunt responses didn't stop Sam from talking however. He needed to get it off his chest and Finnick was the chosen one, "I think even if I had been on that aircraft she'd of kicked my ass off it." He frowned.

Finnick scoffed quietly, the only hint of humour he'd shed in the weeks since she'd been gone, "Oh, she definitely would've." Was his response.

Sam smiled grimly in response—as if thinking about her was too painful, "After Snow killed Josh and her parents she tried to pull away from us. She was too scared to be seen in town with us. My mom used to pretend to clean her house just so she could visit but on nights we all went she'd sneak us in through the unguarded gate towards the back of the Victors Village. She was so paranoid."

"Can you blame her?" Finnick asked him, looking at him through his lashes.

"No." Sam replied, "I can't.... I can't imagine what it was like for her."

Finnick didn't respond. Either he wasn't listening or he'd chosen not to say anything. It made Sam frown as he mulled over his words.

"Do you have any family?" He couldn't help but ask.

Finnick's fingers halted midway through the knot he was tying. After a moment his head lifted and he looked at Sam as if to say it was none of his business but he eventually released a heavy breath and returned to tying his knot. A sorrowful expression bled into his irises when he shook his head, "My father died in a boating accident when I was still a boy. My mother died the year after I won the Games. It seems even a fortune can't cure someone from illness."

"I'm sorry about that." Sam said quietly.

Finnick nodded once in thanks, "I was an only child. My parents were only children. Grandparents had passed. I was fifteen and I had no one... until Mags took me in." He paused as he remembered the woman, a day hadn't passed where he hadn't thought about her—or his parents. He loosed a heavy sigh and said, "Over time I've found my own family. They're dysfunctional... and mildly crazy but.. it's what makes them mine."

"Sometimes chosen is better than blood." Sam said.

Finnick nodded in agreement and said, "I wouldn't have found any of them if it weren't for Aella. She brought Clio, Daniel and I together... and Johanna and I together but that wasn't intentional."

A small smile rose to Sam's lips when he saw bemusement sparkle in Finnick's eyes, "No?"

"God, no." Finnick snorted, shaking his head, "I had to pull them apart at a party in the Capitol. They were trying to kill each other."

"Why does that not surprise me?" Sam asked.

"We look back on it now and laugh but at the time? I thought all three of us were going to get shot ... but, in the end it brought us together. Best friends."

"I heard they called you the Deadly Trio pack."

"Yeah, they did." Finnick nodded, "Can't imagine why though. We were always well behaved." He said sarcastically, "Never got into any fights."

"Right." Sam laughed and soon enough a small smile stretched across Finnick's chapped lips.

He sighed in remembrance, "We were best friends the three of us.... Well, until it changed."

"Between you and Aella." Sam commented and Finnick nodded. Sam watched him and said, "When did it change?"

Finnick paused for a moment but he didn't need to think about the answer to his question. He would always remember the pivotal moment in which everything changed between he and Aella. The memories were imprinted in his mind where they would remain for the rest of his life.

He took a deep breath and said, "I realised I was in love with her two years ago but honestly I knew from the moment I first saw her in my living quarters I would protect her with my life. It wasn't for another couple of years did I realise I had feelings for her.

Knew because he remembered telling himself how wrong it was. Remembered looking in the mirror at himself and wondering what the hell he was thinking. He scolded himself for thinking it—was disgusted in himself for days after everything she had been through but he couldn't stop it. It had never been his intention to create a bond with her... until he saw her sitting on his sofa sobbing that was. His resolve—his promise to himself—went out the window instantly.

He hadn't even been sure she would trust him but she did. For whatever reason Aella opened up to him and they connected. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced before. He'd conditioned himself not to become attached to his Tributes but he became so impossibly attached to her within hours. Seeing her in that arena, scared and fighting for her life had almost broke him but she had defied all the odds and had won and the rest between them was history.

"Josh was so grateful that she had you, you know?" Sam said to him, "When she came back she told us all of it and while Josh had hated—loathed—himself for not being there to protect her he found some comfort knowing she had you."

Finnick nodded briefly, "I hated myself, too." He said before adding when he felt Sam's confusion, "For what he did to her. I didn't even know her and it was completely out of my control but I remembered seeing her on my sofa and hating myself."

Sam didn't know how to respond. All he knew was that he knew the feeling. It had been lucky that Drew didn't come back to District Five after her Games because Sam knew he would've killed him. Knew Josh and Aella's father would have too. In fact, the entire District would have and the fact that Drew was only allowed to return to District Five after Aella's family had been killed was a testimony in itself. Sam remembered seeing those Peacekeepers stationed outside Drew's doors for the first six months, remembered the warning they as a District had been given prior to his return that if anyone laid a finger on him they would be executed.

So it was a mutual feeling that he and Finnick shared; the self-loathing, and over the years it had never lessened.

"Part of me wishes she didn't have to kill him in the Games." Finnick said quietly, as if he didn't want many people to hear his admission, "It was like she was robbed of what he truly deserved."

Sam nodded while he thought about Finnick's words. Her killing had become so gruesome even the cameras had turned away from it. They focused on everyone else still alive but even when they honed in on Finnick himself or Mags, for example, they couldn't silence Drew's agonising screams. The world didn't see the torture Aella inflicted on Drew but they heard it. Even then, though, no one had dared touch her while she finished him. The second after however...

"But was she?" Sam found himself asking, truly curious. He wasn't trying to be condescending about it, "To us it seemed like there was an agreement between you all. She was vulnerable, open to be killed, and yet no one made to attack her. The second Drew took that final breath and the cannon sounded the Careers were hot on her tail."

Finnick nodded and said, "Everyone in the rebellion made a promise to her to fight off anyone that dared touch her whilst she killed him. But even then, everyone understood and formed an unspoken agreement—whether they liked Aella or not. Drew was hers to kill but if he died to a pod it was just bad luck. The night before the whispers of the promise were circulated; while she killed Drew she was immune from the killing and anyone who was to try and break the agreement was fair game to her. Everyone agreed. We all hated Drew just as much as the other."

Sam's brows rose high in shock, "Even the Careers agreed?"

"They didn't really have a choice." Finnick grimaced, "Hence why they moved in on her straight after. It wasn't fair and I hated myself for being on the opposite end of the Cornucopia but I had promises to honour."

"Protect Katniss and Peeta." Sam nodded. 

Silence fell between them again after that and Finnick resorted to watching Sam pick through his food. His plate was left still predominantly untouched, no longer enough of an appetite to eat the beige mystery meat. He watched him carefully, his memories playing while he worked to form an opinion of the man seated to the side of him. His first memory of him in particular jumped out and all the rest fell in a line of similar order. He couldn't stop himself from clearing his throat in preparation for his next question.

"How long have you been in love with her?"

Sam's fork clashed against his plate as he dropped it. His whole body froze in the most obvious way. It was all Finnick needed to know to confirm that his suspicions were true. Sam's shoulders tensed when he rose his head to meet Finnick's gaze again and he stuttered, "What?"

Finnick glanced back down to the rope in his fingers and knotted it again, "It's not that obvious but it's part of my job to read people. I've been doing it for years."

His companion swallowed nervously and glanced around fleetingly to see if anyone was close by. They weren't. Finnick knew there wasn't, that's why he chose that table in the first instance. He wanted to be away from the prying eyes.

"I've never told anyone." Sam admitted, "I don't even think she knows."

"Somehow I think you're right." Finnick nodded in agreement.

"Josh would likely kill me if he were still alive." He said, "I know I'd kill him if he said he was in love with Nat."

"Daniel might."

Sam grimaced in response before he shook his head, "I don't know." He said, "Two years ago? A year ago? Honestly, I'm not sure. I just knew-know that I'll do anything for her. If she asked me to jump off the dam I would."

"I know the feeling." Finnick responded in a grumble.

Silence elapsed between them. Finnick continued to tie his rope and Sam stared at the food on his plate, both thinking about her. It was enough to turn Sam's appetite sour and he understood why Finnick couldn't eat. That fear of the unknown was truly sickening. Was she being tortured every hour of every day or were they just leaving her sitting in a cell? Was she even alive? Judging by how she looked when they'd forced her to do that interview he'd take a wild guess that they were torturing her. President Snow wasn't the kind of man to let her crimes and taunts go unpunished.

No, he was a man that punished for the simplest of things.

He absolutely hated it.

He released a shaking breath and looked up from his food to Finnick, "Do you think we'll get her back?"

Finnick stilled. He looked up from the rope to meet Sam's gaze and he saw the anguish there. Saw that pain that crippled himself.

"I hope so," he said quietly, "god I hope so."

Sam nodded. All they could do was pray. Plutarch wasn't the kind of man to hold on to information, especially if it meant the difference between getting Aella and the others out of the Capitol or not. He wasn't that kind of person. The pushing for their rescue would only come when he found out where they were being kept.

But until then, all they could do was in fact pray.

•   •   •

A/N; A short Finnick chapter for you all. Honestly I feel like Finnick is really overlooked in Mockingjay part 1, especially in the films. He was such a big part of Catching Fire but when it came to Mockingjay 1 he was only really in the beginning and the very end so we don't get to see much about his trauma and how he copes when Annie is in the Capitol.

The next update will be Wednesday!