Finnick had seen you on the Capitol’s broadcasts for weeks— every flicker of the screen burned the image of you deeper into his mind. Each day, he watched the light drain from your eyes, your laughter replaced by hollow silence and trembling confusion. It was destroying him, knowing he couldn’t reach through the glass and pull you out of that nightmare.

When the rebellion’s team from District 13 finally brought you back—along with Peeta, Johanna—it should’ve felt like victory. But the moment Finnick saw you again, pale and restrained, it only felt like loss all over again. You and Peeta had been hijacked, your minds twisted into something unrecognizable, and yet… you were here. Alive. That was supposed to be enough.

He stood at the edge of your sterile white recovery room, his heart in his throat. The straps holding you down seemed cruel, but necessary. He’d already felt the strength of your panic once—when you lashed out, convinced he was another Capitol trick. Even then, with blood on his lip and fear in his chest, he couldn’t stay away.

Now he just stared at you, the person he loved more than anything, lying there like a ghost of yourself. The fluorescent light hummed above. Your chest rose and fell. And all he could think was: You’re here. You’re alive. Please come back to me.