Ocean Eyes - Finnick Odair

Thirty-Two

TW- forced prostitution mentioned, PTSD, wounds
"Where's Peeta?" Marissa asks Mira, her voice hoarse having just awakened from her unconscious state. Her head rests tiredly on her younger sisters shoulder, too weak to hold it up herself. "Is he okay?"

"Peeta is fine, Marissa," Mira promises her. Her arm is wrapped firmly around Marissa's shoulders, something the older sibling is extremely grateful for. She'd been so focused on Finnick, Peeta, Annie and Johanna whilst she was in the Capitol that she'd forgotten how much Mira meant to her. "The gas we used on the guards knocked him out and he has some pretty nasty injuries so they're just fixing them now."

"What about Annie and Johanna?"

"Everyone's okay, Marissa. Finnick and Mags will be here as soon as they can too and we're all going to be okay."

Marissa shivers, pulling the bloodstained sheet she hadn't been given a chance to dispose of closer to her bare body. Her hands are shaking but not from how cold she is. Anxiety is eating away at her because Finnick isn't there. Mira said he would be soon but, why is he not there already? Maybe the Capitol had him captive all along. Maybe she'd imagined the propo of him. Maybe he really was being tortured to hurt her.

Marissa shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut to try and rid her mind of the images of Finnick tied down and screaming out for her help. It doesn't work. Mira's comforting words and hold do nothing to soothe her and soon she has broken down into tears. She's inconsolable, unreachable and she stays that way until the doors of the hospital wing burst open and he calls for her.

"Mari?" his voice is different. It's softer than usual and holds a great deal of pain but, it's him. It's his voice and Marissa knows it. Her eyes snap open and she stares at him for a moment, examining him. His fingers are bleeding, calloused and cracked from hours of tirelessly tying knots and, his eyes show deep, emotional torment but he's physically well.

"Finnick!" she cries out, ripping herself out of Mira's hold and ungracefully launching herself at him. Her legs collapse from her weight and she stumbles forward into his open arms, clutching onto him with trembling arms. "You're okay. You're okay. They didn't hurt you."

Finnick is leaning against a wall for support as he embraces Marissa, who shakes violently, burying her face into the crook of his neck. He can feel how slim she is under the thin fabric of the sheet keeping her decent, her skeleton sticking out of her skin due to severe malnourishment and physical and mental torture she'd endured during her time in the Capitol.

"What did they do to you?" he whispers, burying his face in her hair. Despite her beaten and bruised appearance, she's surprisingly clean. She had to be presentable for any interviews on the Capitol's television and Galla had been tasked with making her the most appealing she could be for her sessions with Mr Wraith which meant lots of showering and perfumes. The strong scent of roses from the Capitol's showers and the lingering stench of perfume in her hair makes Finnick feel sick. She doesn't smell like her anymore. Finnick longs to smell the mint and eucalyptus scent of her perfume mixed in with a hint of sea salt from the air in District Four.

"Miss Johnson," a doctor from District Thirteen places their hand on her shoulder. She cowers away from the touch as far as she can, unable to move far due to Finnick's arms around her. "Could you follow me please?"

Marissa shakes her head, whimpering as she refuses to comply with the doctors in District Thirteen.

"Miss Johnson-"

"No," Marissa rasps. "I'm not... I'm-"

"Marissa, it's okay," Finnick whispers to her. "They're not going to hurt you."