Protect me ⚔️ Finnick Odair

Thirteen

They've been to hell and back for each other, and I think they'd both be willing to take a second trip if they had to

-Unknown

When Bree went to sleep that night, she did so the same as she had every night. Huddled in the corner, praying for death to take her.

But when she had woken, things had been different; Bree was not in her cell. But instead, lying on an unknown medical bed in an unknown medical facility.

As she had tried to push herself into a seating position, a pair of nurses had run up to her, trying to encourage her to lay back down. But they didn't look like the nurses that Bree had expected.

And when she flinched away from them, they looked almost hurt.

"It's okay." One of the ladies assured Bree. Her hands raised where Bree could see them. "You are safe now. You are with the rebellion. You are in District 13."

But Bree didn't believe them. She couldn't believe them. Because if this were all an elaborate ruse from the capital, that would break her even further.

But Bree let them treat her, let them dress her wounds and attach an IV drip to her arm. For what harm could they do?

When Bree heard a door crash open and frantic feet pound in, she finally looked up in time to see Katniss come running around a corner to where Bree's bed was.

"You!" Bree roared. Her voice was guttural and raw as she tried to get off the hospital bed.

"Me?" Katnis questioned. Shocked at the sheer venom and hatred in Bree's voice.

"You killed him." Bree seethed, launching herself at Katniss. She didn't care what Katnise meant to the rebellion. She had taken Finnick away.

But before Bree could get anywhere, an arm caught her around the middle and drew her into a warm, solid body as they sank to the floor. Thrashing, Bree desperately tried to get away. But her stay at the capital had sapped all her strength.

When the roaring of blood in her ears subsided, Bree could finally hear the world around her. A warm, gentle voice finally came to her brain.

"You are okay, love its me. I'm here, and you are okay." The voice soothed over and over again. Whispering words of love and assurance. After feeling her go limp, their arms around her slacked but did not let go.

But there was no way it was who she thought it was. He was dead. He had been killed.

"No." The whisper was harsh and staccato as she desperately threw herself forward. Finally, breaking out of their hold.

Landing on the floor, Bree turned. Coming face to face with her husband. Expect this could not be him. He was dead.

"No." Bree whispered again. Except this time, except this time, it was hurt and broken. "No."

For the man sitting in front of her looked every bit her Finnick. But her Finnick was dead. She had watched over and over again as one of Katniss's arrows had pierced his heart. KiIlling him. There was no way that he was alive.

This man, this strange man, had a look of utter pain and heartbreak on his face.

"No," Bree whispered again. "She killed you. You're dead. I watched you die. I failed you."

"It's me, my love." The man across from her whispered in his voice. It sounded like her Finniack, but it was dripping in sadness and hurt. But that didn't mean that it was her Finnick. How many times had the capital turned her Finnick against her? How many times had he accused her of failing him, her beloved Finnikcs' voice twisted into malice?

"It's me, my darling pearl." He repeated her favourite nickname of his, rolling off his tongue.

Reaching out, he tried to cross the void to where she was sitting. But Bree flinched, shrinking away. The look on his face made it seem as if her very flinch had wounded him. A dagger pushed into his heart.

"It's not you. You're dead," Bree repeated again. Her head shook from side to side.

"I promise I'm not dead, my love." He repeated again. Laying his hand palm up on the floor. Ever so gently, he slid his hand closer till his arm was fully extended. As close as he could get to her. Yet it still felt so far to him.

With shaking hands Bree every so slowly stretched her arm out closer to his hand. When her hands got close enough, she ever so gently touched the pads of his fingers with her own.

When she felt the ever-so-human warmth, she let her fingers slide further up his hands across his palm, feeling the ridge of his calluses and scars. When she finally got to his puls point, she ever so gently pressed down. Feeling the rhythmic thumping of his heart.

"But she killed you, you died," Bree whispered.

"Katniss didn't kill me, my pearl. The capital is lying to you. I have been waiting for you right here." He whispered. His voice reassuring.

"Finnick?" Bree questioned, her voice quivering.

"It's me, my love." He assured her.

"Really?" Bree whimpered once more.

"Yes, my pearl," Finnick answered.

Whimpering, Bree finally launched herself at him.

Colliding with him, Bree felt his reassuring warmth. Bree desperately pressed her ear to his chest. Hearing the reassuring beating of his heart, Bree finally burst into tears.

Her shoulders heaved as she cried. So relieved that Finnick was alive. That he was here with her.

Bree pushed her head into the crook of his neck. Her whole body shook from the force of her sobs as she desperately clawed at Finnick, trying to pull him impossibly closer to her.

Finnick held on to her just as tightly. Desperately reassuring her that he was here with her and not going anywhere.

Their island of calm in a storm of chaos.

Eventually, Bree's crying subsided as she fell asleep. Her malnourished body not able to cope with all that was happening.

When Finnick was sure she was asleep, he ever so gently stood up with her still in his arms. Moving, he goes to put her back down in her hospital bed.

But instead, the nurses motioned for him to keep his hold on her. Gently, they removed the IV line from Brees's arm and motioned for Finnick to leave.

"Bring her back tomorrow when she wakes up." one of the nurses whispers.

Nodding, Finnick turns, holding Bree close to his chest. He walks back to their rooms.