THE UNIFORM OF DISTRICT THIRTEEN WAS AWFUL. Aella hated the colour. She hated the way it made her look. She hated the baggy trousers and the black combat boots. She hated that she couldn't dress how she wanted to... which in that moment was joggers and a jumper that was three sizes too big for her. She felt restricted and uncomfortable but it was certainly better than the hospital gowns she'd been wearing for the last seven days.

Her discharge date had been pushed back more times than she'd anticipated and now it had arrived it was almost too good to be true. She was waiting for that last hiccup but she'd never gotten this far before. She'd never actually gotten changed out of that hospital gown and into the District uniform. All she had known since she'd arrived into this foreign place was the comfort and safety of the hospital. She hadn't interacted with anyone outside of the four walls she'd been in for the last seven days.

Her anxiety had never been higher and she'd lived with it for years. The thought of having to rebuild a new life in a strange environment made her never want to leave. The way her heart pounded in her chest wasn't new to her but the feeling never eased. It was always so awful, like a weight of impending doom dragging her under until she hit the water. Her fingers shook so much she sat on them, her hands now tucked under her thighs as she sat on the edge of the bed waiting to be formally discharged.

She had one final leap before they would let her out and knowing Finnick was waiting, making the arrangements for them to live together helped to calm her mind somewhat. He wasn't with her at that moment though when she really needed him but he wasn't far. She could do this on her own.

The door to her room opened and had she not have already been staring at it, she wouldn't of heard Dr. Vann walk in. The middle aged woman offered her the same reassuring smile she had done the last however many days.

Her brown eyes softened as she looked at her. The woman had dark brown skin, soft looking in nature and her black hair was pulled back into a sleek bun atop her head with her curls sitting in tight ringlets. Aella envied the woman's hair. Dr. Vann was blessed with the type of curl that appeared tight and easy to work with. Aella's curls were loose and frizzy, a nightmare on the best of days.

The woman waved at Aella, "Good morning. How are we doing today?"

"Waiting for this all to blow up in my face." Aella grumbled, mainly to herself as she looked at the ground. When silence followed she wasn't sure if she didn't hear because of her poor hearing or if Dr. Vann just hadn't responded. She looked up to see the doctor standing with slightly wide eyes and it wasn't until then did she realise it was because of her choice of words.

A smile gripped her lips and she chuckled to herself in dark amusement. The irony of it all was far too amusing for her—her current predicament was because the arena had blown up, not in her face, but around her and it had caused a plethora of issues for her. Aella's sense of humour had broken long ago, as had those of the Victors around her.

"Sorry," She apologised bluntly, "poor choice of words."

Dr. Vann forced a smile to her face but even Aella could sense her discomfort. The woman lingered far too long before she said something and before she did she cleared her throat awkwardly.

"So before we give you the all clear I just need to have a look at this wound," The woman said, reaching to pull a swivelling chair over. She took a pair of gloves and sat down in front of her, "hopefully remove the sutures and you'll be free to start your life here."

"Great." She whispered numbly, cracking her fingers as she looked at them, "Can't wait."

Dr. Vann noticed her tell immediately. Over the days of close inspection she'd realised Aella had triggers and she had tells. The doctor treaded carefully. Aella's trauma was of a vast extent and far beyond her training. She was a doctor of physical health, not mental health. They had doctors waiting to see her once she had been deemed physically well — Katniss and Finnick had already started their sessions. 

Silence elapsed between the two women as Dr. Vann worked to unwrap Aella's dressings. The younger woman kept her eyes closed the entire time, terrified to see the extent of damage. The scarring she'd been warned about didn't bother her, what did was the uncertainty of whether she'd lose her sight or not. She wasn't sure she'd be able to handle being both blind and deaf. A part of her wondered if Finnick would want her so damaged but she tried to shake those thoughts off before they lingered too long. He had promised her he'd be with her every step of the way and she believed his every word.

Dr. Vann continued to work in silence until she discarded the bandages in the bin beside her. She examined Aella's wound delicately, looking at the slightly jagged scar that ran down her forehead, into her eyebrow and across to her temple before disappearing back into her hairline. The purple bruising around her eye was starting to lighten and the swelling had disappeared. The woman was beyond pleased with how well it had healed and she worked silently to remove the sutures.

Once she was done she removed her gloves and rolled her chair back, "Okay, Aella, all done." She said to her.

With her eyes closed, Aella nodded, "How does it look?"

"Why don't you open your eyes and see for yourself?"

The sound of popping bones echoed again, "I'm scared."

"No need to be." Dr. Vann said to her supportively, placing her hand on her arm, "It missed your eye and the swelling as gone. I don't predict any damage to your sight."

With her eyes still closed Aella's brows furrowed gently, "Promise?"

A small silence lapsed between them before the doctor sighed softly and said, "Yes, I promise."

Aella didn't expect to hear those words. No one had promised her anything in a long time. So long that she had ceased believing in them... but hearing her say it.. it ignited something within her. She believed her.. believed that she would be okay.

Her tense shoulders relaxed and slowly she opened her eyes. The striking difference in her vision disoriented her at first. The sheer fact that she could even open her eye was something in itself but it began streaming almost instantaneously. The world was so bright, the lights burning her cornea and she shied away from it for a heartbeat, raising her hand above her head to shield her eyes.

"That's it," Vann said soothingly as she watched her blink rapidly, "It's okay. It's just sensitive. Here."

Aella took the tissues she offered her, patting the tears away from her eye while blinking rapidly. Vann was right, it was sensitive but after a few more minutes her vision finally began to settle and then she was staring at the woman before her with almost perfect vision. Vann covered her left eye, the one that hadn't been healing for all those days and smiled at Aella. A silent question of whether she could see her lingered on her face and Aella only nodded in response. There was no blurred vision, no dark spots—everything was how she remembered it to be and the relief that gripped her was overwhelming.

"I can see."

"You can." Vann smiled before she rose from her chair and said, "I never doubted you couldn't."

Lie, Aella thought. She'd overheard her speaking to Finnick one day when they both thought she was sleeping. 'I can't predict whether she'll lose her sight in that eye or not,' her words had been. She wouldn't call her out on it though. There was no need to, not when she could very clearly see with both her eyes.

"You're ready to go," Vann said, "Mr. Odair is waiting for you outside and dinner is just about to be served. Perfect timing if I don't say so myself."

Aella nodded to herself, slowly edging off the bed until she was on her feet. She lingered, her eyes roaming the only room she'd known since realising she was in District Thirteen. It had been her safety for days. What would she do outside of it? What would her life become now? For years all she'd known was the same discombobulation she'd called her life, sleeping through the day and lying awake through the night. Confined to the same four walls day in and day out, only leaving to grab whatever supplies she needed. It had all changed overnight and she realised it was going to take a great deal to get used to whatever her new schedule would be in Thirteen.

"It'll be strange at first." Vann said to her, seeing the apprehension on her face, "But you'll be fine. I know it."

Aella nodded, "Thank you, Dr. Vann."

The older woman smiled kindly at her and said, "It was my pleasure, Aella. You know where I am if you ever need anything."

With a parting nod Aella headed for the door and left without looking back. She negotiated her way through the hallways until she saw Finnick approaching her from the opposite end. The smile he wore on his face was effortless—one she so rarely ever saw and butterflies swarmed her stomach. It was a smile reserved for her only and it lightened her mood, pulling a genuine smile of her own to grace her lips.

"Hello, roomie." He said by way of greeting, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pressing a kiss to her temple.

Aella looked up at him with wide eyes, "You did it?"

He snorted, "Of course I did," was his response, "you'd be surprised what you can get around here when you pull the 'I was part of the beginning of the rebellion' card."

"I didn't realise there was a card." Aella hummed as she looked up to meet Finnick's gaze. A bemused smile lingered on her lips, almost curving into a mischievous smirk. He loved the sight of it. The way her eyes lit up sparked joy to run through his veins. He hadn't seen that side of her in a long time and he was thankful to be getting her back.

He forced her to stop, the two of them standing in one of the many, many, hallways in their new underground home. The dim lighting around them shadowed the scar on her face but he could still see it. Had it of been one of the residents from Thirteen who hardly knew her he'd suspect they wouldn't even notice it, but he knew. He knew every single thing about her down to the very last detail. He knew the scar on her face was fresh and it was new. For some time it would be a reminder of what they'd gone through—perhaps for quite a number of years, maybe until the rebellion blew over... if it ever did. But he'd get used it, just like he knew she would one day, too.

Aella searched his curious eyes as they flickered over her face. She knew what he was looking at and unease bubbled in her stomach. Of course he'd be looking, she had to remind herself, he's never seen it. Still, it didn't make her feel any better about any of it. Not until she heard the words that came from his mouth.

"Did I ever tell you I have a thing for women with super cool scars?"

The way his charismatic smirk pulled on his lips ignited fire to rage inside her stomach. His eyes were ablaze, so intense. His brow curved into an arch as if to pry further and she merely shook her head.

"I can't say you ever did." She responded coolly.

"Hmm." He hummed in mock contemplation, "Must've slipped my mind. I've very specific taste you see."

She nodded mockingly but went along anyway. The way they bounced off one another to lift each others spirits was truly remarkable. This little game was only a fraction of how they could banter with one another but this game wasn't meant to be. The grin of amusement dropped from her face and insecurity replaced it. The display of that specific emotion on her face was rare for him to see. He watched the way her eyes flickered and she drew back. Blindly, he reached out and tried to grab on to her to stop her from disappearing into a shell.

"Is it that bad?"

He failed.

Finnick looked at the scarring to her face once more—properly this time. He kept his face neutral, thankful he knew how to while he looked. Now was the only time he could give her the honest truth. Anything he would say afterward would forever be counteracted with what he was to say now. He wasn't keen on the truth but he knew she needed it.

"It's... fresh," He said to her after he sighed, "It's bad in the sense that it was a horrible injury but it doesn't change anything about you. It doesn't change you. Not that it should matter anyways, I think you're perfect regardless."

"Finnick." She pressed softly.

"Right," He nodded before he delved back in, "But, no, it's not that bad. To these people it's likely nothing. It's healing nicely and unless you're as close as I am it's barely even noticeable, Ella. They've done a great job."

Her brows pulled inward as she searched his sea-foam eyes, "Are you sure?"

Finnick raised a delicate hand to cup her chin. He tilted her head back gently and met her gaze, his brow arching softly, "Have I ever lied to you?"

"No." She murmured.

He nodded, "No. Exactly."

Aella loosed a heavy sigh before she nodded to herself and said, "Okay."

"Okay?" He asked her, searching for true confirmation.

The response he received in the form of her gaze was unsure. He could still see the lingering insecurity but he didn't expect it to disappear instantly either. It would take time for her to get used to it. It didn't matter how long, he decided, he'd be there telling her she looked perfect the entire time.

She nodded briefly and said, "Okay."

It was a step in the right direction at least. He reminded himself that neither of them were the same people who went into the arena. They'd emerged as something else. Something whole. Two entirely different people to who went in, fresh insecurities and open wounds. It was like becoming Victor all over again except this time they weren't Victors. They were rebels who had kickstarted a war.

They walked together to the canteen, Finnick mainly guiding Aella while offering a short tour of the few places he'd come to know since arriving in this district. It wasn't much. He'd spent his days going from his room to the hospital to the canteen and then back to the hospital. They'd both need a more in depth guide around the intricate maze District Thirteen was.

They conversed softly as they walked, talking about nothing in particular. The elephant in the room was heavy but neither dared to broach the subject. They were incomplete—missing a member of their tight pack and she was stuck somewhere deep within the Capitol along with the boy Aella was supposed to have protected with her life. Neither wanted to imagine what it was Johanna and Peeta were going through but Aella would be lying if she said she hadn't thought about it every waking moment. The urge to switch places with them stuck deep. It weighed heavy on her shoulders as they walked together and Finnick could see it dragging her under.

He just hoped she wouldn't drown.

•  •  •

Sam had near enough squeezed the life out of Aella's thin frame when he had seen her in the canteen. They hadn't been able to see one another since her rescue from the Games and he had held her so tightly she'd seen stars but she still held on to him regardless. Finnick had stood suspiciously close during the whole altercation and even as Aella formally introduced them it had been more than awkward. Sam's protectiveness over Aella was something he hadn't quite faced before.

He had known Daniel and Clio to be fiercely protective over her but Sam had been a whole new level. To make matters worse, the eye contact made between he and Finnick when the former held Aella in a tight embrace told Finnick everything he needed to know. The positioning of Sam's hands on her body, the way he inhaled deeply as he held her in his arms... Finnick and everyone around would have to be blind to not notice it.

Sam's feelings for Aella...

Finnick wondered if Aella ever knew about them but from the way they interacted he'd hazard a guess at her not knowing.

It was slightly awkward by the time they'd made it to the canteen and sat down with their meals. Finnick stayed on Aella's left side always. They were still trying to get used to her lack of hearing but they'd quickly picked up on the sign language they had been taught over the few days. It came in handy when they were sitting in the canteen with hundreds of people surrounding them, the noise levels higher than they'd ever faced since moving to Thirteen.

Finnick saw the way Aella looked around, a speckle of fear twinkling in her eyes at the vast amount of people surrounding her. He didn't say anything to her about it, he just kept his hand on her thigh and stayed close. They leaned in to talk to one another and Aella didn't notice as Katniss joined them at their table with a man she'd never seen before. She didn't hear the young woman as she greeted her and asked how she was getting on.

It was Finnick who pointed in the direction of Katniss and the unfamiliar male, drawing Aella's attention away from him and to them. She met Katniss' gaze, having seen her for the first time since the Games and swallowed thickly. A surge of guilt tackled her to the ground and tried to hold her there. All she could see was Peeta. His soft eyes and caring nature taunted her, reminding her of her failure. She hated it.

Finnick tensed as he saw Aella's shoulders square and he ran his hand down her back soothingly.

Katniss only stared at Aella, confusion swirling thickly in her irises as the woman didn't respond. She saw the way she'd visibly frozen. She knew Aella had been tasked with protecting Peeta. She, like Finnick, had watched the moment Aella had pushed Peeta behind her and took Brutus on. She'd seen that selfless act for herself and watched knowing if it weren't for Peeta's actions the seconds following she would've been dead. Aella had protected Peeta, with all her power, and Peeta being Peeta had thanked her by saving her life.

Aella wasn't at fault. Katniss knew it but it hadn't stopped her from screaming at the screen when she'd seen Peeta leave Aella behind, blue in the face and staggering after him.

Katniss spoke again, repeating the same words she'd asked minutes prior but amongst all the chaos of voices in the canteen Aella only saw her lips move.

She tried to read Katniss' lips but they barely moved. Whatever she had said she had mumbled it and so she turned to Finnick and recited the signs they'd both learned over the days.

Can't hear.

A small smile tugged at Finnick's lips as Katniss leaned forward and said, "Is there something wrong?"

Finnick ignored Katniss briefly, eyes holding Aella's as he leaned closer to her and said, "She asked you how you were."

Aella's face dropped in realisation and she turned back to Katniss. A frown tugged on her face, deep confusion etching into her features.

"I'm okay." Aella spoke, "Healing. How are you?"

Katniss didn't respond. She looked passed Aella's frame and to Finnick as he leaned forward in his seat. The man only nodded to himself and said, "Ah. You don't know."

"Know what?" Katniss half snapped.

"Aella lost her hearing in the Games." Finnick said. It was loud enough that she heard his words and she leaned back into his chest in consent. He carried on, "The lightning strike or when she hit the tree. We don't know which but it was significant enough to render her mostly deaf."

"Mostly?" Aella echoed incredulously as she eyed him. He merely shrugged and she turned back to Katniss, "I took the brunt of the strike. My hearing is gone in my right ear but there's still a slither in my left. It's not great but it's enough. Beetee is working on hearing aids."

Katniss swallowed thickly hearing her words. She had been the one to fire the arrow upwards. Aella and Finnick had both tried to get to her to stop her. To save her life. She couldn't help but feel partly responsible for Aella's predicament.

Whatever words were to be spoken next were halted. The television screens mounted to the large support beams within the canteen lit up with the symbol of Panem—the Captiol. It was loud enough to take Aella's attention and she looked to the screen as a chill ran down her spine. The fanfare tune like poison to her ears. It made everything in her stomach churn and as unease swept over her Finnick looped his arm over her shoulder and pulled her close for protection.

Caesar Flickerman's face came before them on the screen. A serious expression resided deep within his features—so foreign to those who watched and loved him. He'd always been a man of merriment and tease, never once so serious. It tore away at Aella.

"Hello. Good evening," He said by way of greeting, "and a big welcome to all of Panem. I'm Caesar Flickerman. And whoever you are, whatever you're doing, if you're working, put down your work. If you're having dinner, stop having dinner. Because you are going to want to witness this tonight... There has been rampant speculation about what really happened in the Quarter Quell. And here, to shed a little light on the subject for us is a very special guest. Please welcome Mr. Peeta Mellark."

Dressed in pristine white, Peeta was shown on the screen. The purity of the colour made Aella's stomach twist as she realised what it symbolised, what it was that sat in the pocket of the jacket. White roses, they even sat in a vase on the table beside him. It washed Peeta out—perhaps more than what was intended for. The white spoke of everything Peeta could not. His skin was pale—paler than she'd ever seen before. It was almost sickly, like her own, and his face was blank.

She swallowed thickly as she saw him. The memories of the events leading up to the end of the Games scattered through her mind in broken waves. What she could remember of it and what she had been told tugged on the chain still wrapped around her ankle. She felt the water lapping at her feet and she squeezed her eyes shut.

Her hand reached out blindly and she grasped Finnick's free hand, slotting her fingers through his and squeezing tightly. He ran his callused thumb over the back of her hand while pulling her in deeper and pressing a soothing kiss against her temple while repeatedly telling her it was not her fault.

"Peeta, a lot of people feel as though they are in the dark." Caesar began the conversation.

Aella noticed out of the corner of her eye as Katniss rose from her feet slowly, disbelief clear across her face. The girl walked behind her, closer to the television, slowly.

"Yeah, yeah, I know how they feel." He responded dryly. His voice was practically monotonous. He seemed void of any emotion, Aella realised and she frowned deeply. The Peeta she had come to know was open and light. He was like the sunshine on a cloudy day—positive. This boy on her screen looked like he had already died inside, like the Capitol had already managed to break his spirit.

"Now, so set the stage for us," Caesar said, "Talk us through what really happened on that final and controversial night."

"Well, first off, you have to understand that when you're in the Games.. you only get one wish. It's very costly."

"It costs your life."

"I think it costs more than your life." Peeta responded.

"How do you mean?" Caesar dug, "What's more than your life?"

"I mean to murder innocent people, that costs everything that you are."

Aella nodded in agreement with him. Her eyes fixated on the screen. They were not innocent people but once upon a time they had been. Kids, teenagers, who—for the most part—just wished to sail through their teenage years without being reaped. They were innocent. President Snow had destroyed that, had destroyed them.

"Yes." Caesar nodded.

"S-so you hold on to that one wish. And that night my wish was to save Katniss."

Another, "Yes."

"You know, I should've just run off with her earlier in the day like she'd wanted."

Like she'd wanted. She glanced to Finnick at that and met his gaze. His irises seemed to speckle with the same thoughts that ran through her brain. They knew they'd planned something together. Knew that their own plan was inches from falling apart.

"But you didn't. Why?" Caesar pried, "Were you caught up in Beetee's plan?"

"No, I-I was caught up trying to play allies," He sighed, "and then they separated us and... that's when I lost her. And then the lightning hit... and, uh, the whole force field around the arena just blew out."

Separated them because they knew they were going to run off together.

"Yes, but, Peeta, Katniss is the one who blew it out."

"No."

"You saw the footage."

"N-no, she didn't know what she was doing. Neither of us knew there was a bigger plan going on. We had no idea." Peeta argued defensively. Aella could hear the strain in his tone, see the fear in his eyes. It felt like Peeta had already been through that conversation before. That he'd already had to plead his innocence to the Capitol, to Snow...

"You had no idea?" Caesar asked almost accusingly.

Again, a stressed, "No."

"All right," Caesar nodded, "Well, Peeta, there are many who find this suspicious to say the least. It seems as though she was part of a rebel plan."

And this was where it all tied together, Aella realised. Snow was already exploiting Peeta like he'd exploited his every other Victor. It wasn't an interview to clear things up, it was an interview to paint both Katniss and herself, Finnick, Johanna... as the bad guys.

"Do you think it was part of her plan to be almost killed by Johanna?" Peeta retorted. "Or part of the plan to be paralysed by lightning? No, we-we were not part of any rebel plan. We had no idea what was going on."

Aella cringed in unsettlement. The distress in Peeta's eyes was far too obvious. She couldn't stand to look at it any more. She turned her head to Finnick, looking at his side profile as he watched the screen with a tight jaw and murmured, "This is awful."

He merely nodded and just when she thought he wasn't going to respond he said, "I know."

"I was going to ask you to speak about the unrest but I think you might be too upset." Caesar said when she turned her attention back to the screen.

"No," Peeta dismissed too quickly, "No, I-I can."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, absolutely."

"Thank you." Caesar said.

The camera switched to Peeta again, focusing on him as he sighed deeply and stared into it. His facial expression didn't change—hadn't changed—once. It was blank, a mask that only those who knew and understood true fear could read.

"I want everyone who's watching to stop and to think about what a civil war could mean." Peeta said, "We almost went extinct once before. And now our numbers are even fewer. Is this really what we wanna do? Kill ourselves off? Killing is not the answer. Everyone needs to lay down their weapons immediately."

As loud protests grew around them Aella looked at Finnick with wide eyes, "Snow is bribing him. He's forcing—"

Finnick ran a soothing hand down her back as her gaze became panic stricken. He knew exactly what their president was doing. Instead, he nodded in agreement with her, "I know. I know."

"It's not fair!" She cried out, looking around at the canteen full of residents of District Thirteen who yelled at the television. Who called him names and shouted what they thought he deserved. They didn't know the first thing about him, about his circumstance, about any of it. All their narrow minds could hear were his words. They couldn't see far enough to know that they were fear induced. That Peeta was probably reading from a card to save his life.

"I know, Ella." Finnick soothed, "I know."

"Are you calling for a ceasefire?" Caesar said, his voice echoing over the raging crowd. His tone almost surprised but Aella swore she saw a glimmer of triumph sparkle behind the man's eyes.

And with that same blank face Peeta nodded, "Yeah. I am."

• • •

A/N; I'll probably do a double update today just to get the ball rolling. District Thirteen is so boring but I promise it gets juicy