Finnick's POV

The next day all of District 4 was called to meet up. Much too early for Finnick's liking that morning, he and his parents were rounded and taken along with everyone else to the plaza where they would stand and wait for whatever announcement to be over with.

Just seconds ago, an unwanted peacekeeper barged in unexpectedly (very rudely, he may have added). The man's reasoning for being there was clear.

Willingly, Finnick trudged behind the peacekeeper who escorted them out of their own home. His parents spoke in hushed, worried voices, and no matter how hard Finnick tried to listen in, he unfortunately was not able to concentrate on their conversation.

They were only walking for a few minutes, and Finnick noticed other families being rounded from their beds and to the town square. Most had fatigued expressions and their eyes were ghostly and dead, others had a slight light glistening in their eyes, but not many. It was much too early to be rounded like this, and on a school day too! The only good news about this was the enlightening fact that school might be canceled because of this interruption in everyone's daily schedule.
Might being the key word. Finnick and all of his other peers would likely be very displeased if they were forced into learning after this.

His eyes caught sight of his friend, and he turned his head to look at her. Annie was pushing her hair out of her face and tied it back with a hasty ponytail. That was another fact about Annie that he always admired: she never cared to look pretty. Not obsessively pretty anyway, but no matter how hard she tried to cover her natural beauty, Finnick had a knack of searching for her loveliness, and an abundance of it was always visible, no matter her loathing and bitterness for vanity, she was never successful in locking away her glamour. (A/N: that was a TLC reference if anyone caught it. No? Just me? Okay then . . .)

He worried about her considering the events of the previous night. Her head injury did seem like something fatal and painful. He pondered where it had originated from, all he knew was that her wound had been spurting blood, causing havoc. That was certainly a bad sign.
No Finnick, blood gushing from someone's head is perfectly normal.
He ignored his own sarcastic remark and tried his best to keep up with the Peacekeeper's fast paced walking.
If her head was causing her harm, she was successful in hiding her pain. In fact, it seemed as if she held her head higher that day.

The more they walked, the more nervous he became. Why would they make such an announcement?
But he knew why, and he cursed his own naive questionings. He had killed a peacekeeper, and he was being marched to a jury to be condemned.
This made him angsty and his breathing became ever the more shallow.

He risked another glance at Annie. She must have seen his rising panic, because she gave him a reassuring smile from afar which did settle his nerves.

Eventually, the two were separated and planted in different areas.
The plaza was gray and dreary, the only accommodations were a stage for announcements and sections for the children's reaping and the adult's section.
When they were all rounded in the square, he was astonished by how many people inhabited the streets of District 4. He searched for a familiar face but could not find one other than those of his parents.

His attention was averted from analyzing the croud to the stage. He watched as a man with warm brown skin which reminded him of a very cheap currency human kind had decades ago- coppery pennies. The mayor's face was kind but weathered, and he hobbled up to the stage and made his way to the podium-it was clear whom the man was. The mayor of District 4.

Finnick noted that several peacekeepers walked by to keep the citizens in check, and with a guilty ache, Finnick thought of how there should have been one more peacekeeper.
He should not have cared. The man worked for the Capitol, and he was going to kill Annie. Yet, he did care. Not so much that he killed a peacekeeper, but the fact that he killed. He had blood on his hands.
Here he was, considering volunteering for The Hunger Games, worried about blood on his hands. He scoffed at the irony of it all.

But he couldn't volunteer. He promised he wouldn't, and even if he was reaped, now he was not sure if he could actually kill a human being. He had had training, he was supposedly a career after all, but there was definitely a difference between killing a training dummy and killing a human being.
The main difference was that you could forgive yourself for the death of an inadament object.

The mayor began to speak about some political thing that Finnick had lost interest in, his eyes grew droopy and sleep deprived which each passing second, and he began to zone out of the discussion. His mind ran off elsewhere to any other topic or subject, anything but the drab gray plaza with the elderly man's voice ringing in the crowd, the smell of sweat and the heat everyone else radiated off of their bodies, and Finnick found it hard to breathe.
Happy thoughts, he instructed himself. He thought of the first time he began training for The Games, his frequent visits to the sweets shop, his trident, when Annie taught him how to weave a net and when he skilled her with the spearing of fish. Anything but the agony of standing there, listening to a speech with growing guilt gnawing at him like an untamed animal.
They were standing for a good thirty minutes listening to some speech about rebellion and other topics that Finnick did not care about, for the time being, he was, fortunately, able to take his mind away from his surroundings.

After a while, the mayor changed the topic to something that filled Finnick's stomach with dread again, his ears perked up, his body became both stiff and alert-waiting with aanticipation.

"We have found something of interest. One of our peacekeepers was found brutally mudered, bloody, sickly, raw, and disrespectfully cast into the ocean. We will not tolerate such behavior." The man stopped to catch his breath. "This man will be given a proper funeral and commemoration, you all have been brought forth to pay your respects and be alerted as to what happened." Another pause followed by, "this is your warning. If something as treacherous as this happens again, we will question every one of you until we find the killer. We will execute several of you. This time, we will not, unfortunately we do not have the time for a full out search, but do not think we will be taking this lightly. As punishment, everyone will have to give fifty percent of their weeks' earning to help pay for this man's funeral, bless his soul." He bowed his head and everyone, though hesitant, copied the mayor's actions.
Finnick gasped for breath. He had felt suffocated and began to sweat more than the average human should ever sweat. He could not believe it, they were not going to look for him. He would not be a fugitive. Instead, he would have to live with the guilt.
Finnick had a feeling that they would not look for him only because the peacekeeper was not high enough in rank for the Capitol to give much care about it.

Fifty percent of the weeks earning would be a sacrifice. His parents would not be pleased with such a loss of their income, especially with the Games nearing by the second, but it was better than being jailed.
After a prayer that God have mercy on the man (and Finnick), and a projection from President Snow himself talking about something having to do with treason, they were released to go back to their homes.

It did take a while since the streets were crowded with strangers to navigate back home, but Finnick and his parents managed to squeeze out of the crowd and make their way back home.

When he arrived to his small beach house, he sprinted to his room and locked the door. He flopped onto his bed and closed his eyes.
Thoughts flooded his brain. Questions, accusations, guilt. All of it hit him. He had killed someone. No matter how many times he told himself that it was right, that Annie would have died if it wasn't for his actions, the ugly truth hit him.
He was now a murderer.

"Oh well," he said out loud, just to hear his voice. He had trained for this, so what was the big deal?
He did not know.
It should not have mattered, but it did.
Perhaps it was the fact that he unintentionally defied the Capitol who had been nothing but good to him, or that he felt chained with guilt like a convicted man.
He shook his head in annoyance, "snap out of it Finnick." He muttered, aggravated that he was not only caring about some dead peacekeeper, but that he was also talking to himself.
It was pathetic.
He needed to get out.
He reached for his trident lying lazily against his drawer, wooden and beaten unfortunately, but better than nothing, and headed outside.

The day seemed gloomier than usual. Dark clouds surrounded the once bright sky and enveloped the sun like a black sheet. Maybe it was just him, but he could almost feel the dissapointment radiating off of everyone. Nevertheless, he jogged to the beach.
He chose to take the longer way to the beach instead of the faster way. Yesterday, he had taken the short cut with Annie to carry the man to the ocean current. He did not take the shortcut only because that would be suspicious, not because of growing guilt.
Right.

He approached the surf, the feeling of the dry sand tickled his toes. He had always loathed sand for various reasons, it was rough and coarse and was almost impossible to get off of his feet. But he figured that everything good in life had cons, and that was the way it worked. He had to cross the rough and dry desert to reach the source of salt water.
If there was no crummy sand in life, then what would be the point of it?
He reached the water, trident in hand, took off his shirt, and walked into the cool water.

Water always rejuvinated him and granted him strength he needed and yearned for. He remembered the myth of an old sea god, Poseidon. His love of the sea made him think that he could have been his son, which made him smirk. (A/N: Percy Jackson, anyone? I'm sorry it's just really fun to make references *hides away*)

He took out his trident and practiced fighting with invisible enemies, every few minutes actually spearing fish for real practice.
Finnick swirled his trident above his head and speared even more illusions.
There seemed to be so many phantoms though, so many enemies to fight off, just him and his cheaply created wooden trident.

He felt something warm come into contact with his shoulders but he ignored it. He was busy.
"Boo," Annie popped out behind him and smiled dazzlingly. He almost hit her with the trident, but quickly stopped his movements before it impaled her.
"Oh," he blinked the salt water from his eyes, "hi Annie."
She rolled her eyes. "Hi Finnick." She peered at him oddly. "What are you doing?"
"Uh murdering imaginary people, what else?" She did not giggle like he had hoped for.
He smirked and tried to pull an award winning Finnick Odair seductive look.
That got him his long awaited giggle.
"You look ridiculous!" Annie exclaimed, her hands were covering her mouth to try to stifle her giggle.
"Aw, Sweetheart, what? What was that? I think I heard you wrong. I think I heard you say that I'm ridiculous. But that can't be."
She raised a dark eyebrow. "Really?"
He smirked. "Yeah, and I can't look ridiculous. I am, however, ridiculously irresistible."
"No, more like ridiculously," she used way too much emphasis on that word, "irritable."
He shrugged, "we've all got our charms. I just have more than the average person."
"Full of yourself, huh?" She hugged herself with her arms to cover herself. From the cold? The water? Finnick did not know.

"How couldn't I be?" He shot back. It was always amusing seeing how far he could go in teasing Annie. She was however rarely ever amused, and was usually a practical kill joy. Still, he insisted on trying for a laugh or even a hint of a smile.
"You're impossible."
"Let's see," he held out his free hand. "Three accusations. One, that I'm irresistible." He held out his pointer finger.
"I never actually said that. You were the one who claimed that."
He ignored her, "two, irritable. And am I? Possibly." He smiled at her poker face, "and three, impossible. Impossibly gorgeous."
"There are times like these when I ponder why we're even friends." She puckered her lips like she had tasted something sour.
"Because they're all true." He replied.
"The word 'ridiculous' should be in front of all of your character traits. And I never mentioned anything about you being gorgeous." A wave hit the two and drenched them. Annie went under cursing, Finnick laughing as he caught her in his arms.

"Admit it, all three accusations starting with the letter I were very true." He yelled while trying to remove the stinging salt water from his eyes.
"One of which you came up with all on your own!" She yelled with amusement in her voice as she pushed him. He stumbled back into the water and lost his balance. He slipped and fell again into the sea.
"Still true!" He said once he had resurfaced.
"Remind me, why are we friends again?" She made a mock thinking face like she was actually coming up with a list. Who knows, she may have been, he could never tell with Annie. He decided to spare her the trouble.
"Because I'm amazing, and you help me with my homework." He said in a satisfied voice, and though she had a strong poker face, he could see some amusement leaking out.
"Uh huh."
"Exactly, Sweetheart."

A smile tugged on her lips. "Fine, you're right, Finnick!" She walked into the deeper end and he followed.
"She finally admits it! I can retire!" He grinned goofily. She faked an annoyed groan. "I'm never going to hear the end of this, am I?"
"No, you're not," Finnick agreed, "I have a new bargaining chip!"
She laughed humorlessly, "is that the only thing you think of?"
"But of course."

The water was up to their thighs, seagulls flew from above and dove down, their beaks snapping at small fish and other oceanic creatures inhabiting the depths of the sea.
Annie's expression suddenly became very serious. "You are okay, right?"
He sighed, "yeah, . . ." He trailed off and Annie bit her bottom lip. A small fish swam by, nudged Finnick's leg, and scurried away.
"But?" She pried.
"I didn't expect to be so, . . ." he hesitated, trailing off in search for a word. How was he feeling? Guilty definetly, but could he actually admit that to her? His nerves kicked in and he stumbled awkwardly for a suitable word. His search however was in vain because Annie seemed to understand how he was feeling. So instead of providing a word to fill up the silence, he stayed silent. The birds continued to caw, the waves continued to beat relentlessly on the shore, the young children of District 4 continued to laugh and play in the sand and converse, yet somehow it was deathly quiet to Finnick's ears.
In that "silence", she did something then that he would never have expected from Annie Cresta. She half walked, half swam up to him and gave him an awkward hug. He could feel heat spread to his cheeks and hoped that the light assisted in the concealment of his red tinted cheeks.
"Thank you," she mumbled, pulling out of the embrace.
"Uh, what for?" His mind had turned to mush. Even though they were best friends, Annie rarely ever embraced him, she always teased him and claimed that she would never hug him, for he smelled bad, yet she had just embraced him. Hastily of course, but that still counted as something.

He was not sure what to think.
Annie's cheeks were as red as his felt. "Last night. I hate to admit it, but you did save me." She paused and bit her lip again. At this rate, Finnick thought, her lip would start to bleed, but he said nothing, "so thank you." She finished.
"You're welcome," he replied numbly.

"At a loss of words, I see? Hmm, shall I name a trait to describe that?" Again, she made a fake-pondering face. "Oh, I know! And it even starts with an I! Try idiotic."
Finnick snapped out of his stupor. "Hey! You're just jealous that I'm more of a genius than you are!"
"You admitted yourself when you were listing reasons for why we are friends. I'm the one who helps you with your homework."
"There's a fine line between laziness and stupidity." He splashed her face with water. She sputtered, rubbed her eyes, and spit the salt water in his face. "Gross!" Finnick exclaimed.

"I can actually believe that you may possibly be the smallest fraction of a bit smart, but your laziness definitely gets in the way. At least you admit it."
"There's a start to everything."
She splashed him in the face, and salt water went up his nose. He gagged and wrinkled his nose which was now filled with the liquid.
"What was that for?" He demanded with an angry tone to his voice.
"Payback," she replied neutrally and the two doused each other in water.
~
The two walked back to their houses, shivering from the transition of the cold water to the warm atmosphere of District 4. Annie had released her hair from its ponytail and it draped like a brunette sheet around her shoulders.
The two exchanged their goodbyes and went their own separate ways home, just next door to each other.
Finnick dried off and immediately fell asleep.
Instead of nightmares about the reaping, he had a dream that brought him comfort and made him yearn for more.

~*~
Thank you sooooooo much for the reads so far!!!! We're already more than half way to 100!!! THANK YOU!!!
And I'm sorry this took forever to write, I've been working on my own personal story so I haven't had time to write on this one.
Anyway, hope you like this overdue chapter even though it's not that great because I keep writing late at night when I'm tired *sigh*
Anyway, keep reading!
~*~CBG