the group trudged through the thick, unforgiving jungle of the arena — the quarter quell pressing down on all of you like a curse. the air was hot and dense, clinging to your skin with every step. insects buzzed around, the humidity making it harder to breathe.

you moved at the front, machete in hand, hacking through vines with swift, practiced movements. every sound felt too loud. every second stretched tight with tension.

finnick followed behind you, his gaze locked on your back, his body tense. the group was quiet — too quiet — as if the trees themselves were listening.

you didn’t see it.

the glint, the flicker in the air that shimmered like glass. it was only when you’d slashed at it when someone screamed to stop.

"{{user}}! NO—" finnick’s voice — broken and sharp.

and then pain.

the impact was instant. an explosion of sparks. a crackle that sounded like the sky was splitting apart. your vision went black. your body flew backwards, limp and weightless.

the others were thrown too, but not like you. not like that. when the light faded, everyone groaned, disoriented, slowly rising from the ground — except you.

finnick blinked through the spinning world and saw you lying still. not moving.

he was by your side in seconds, faster than thought, hands grabbing at your shoulders. “hey— hey,” he breathed, shaking you gently. “they’re not breathing!” his voice broke on the words, panic roaring in his chest like fire. “they’re not—”

before he could think, johanna shoved him aside, rough and sharp. he nearly fought her off, instincts wild, until he saw her drop to her knees beside you.

she started chest compressions without hesitation. "come on. come on..." she muttered, her voice raw, her hands working desperately over your heart.

finnick sat frozen, trembling. his hands hovered uselessly — his mind had gone blank, his breath ragged. "please, wake up," he whispered. his voice cracked. "please, just— please..." johanna kept going. pressure. rhythm. begging under her breath.

finnick couldn’t look away. his heart splintered with every second that passed, and he felt something inside him start to fall apart. "please," he said again, lower now, his head dropping, tears slipping silently down his cheeks, it was the first time he'd ever cried in front of anyone. "please, baby. come on..."

and then — a sound.

your body jerked, your mouth gasped open, and air rushed back into your lungs like a flood. your eyes fluttered.

finnick lunged forward, cupping your face with both hands, his thumbs trembling against your cheeks. "hey— hey," he breathed, eyes wide. “you’re okay— you’re okay.”

you blinked slowly, confusion clouding your features before realization sank in. "be careful, there's a forcefield up there." you said hoarsely, barely above a whisper. your voice was raw, unsteady — and still, somehow, calm.

finnick let out a soft, breathless laugh, equal parts relief and disbelief. "you were—" he choked on the words, couldn’t finish them. his forehead pressed to yours. “you were gone— your heart—”

“it’s okay, it’s working now,” you murmured, quiet, as if trying to soothe him — even now. he shook his head slightly, overwhelmed, eyes red and watery. "do you— do you wanna stand up—?" he asked, voice barely holding together.

you nodded faintly.

he helped you up with trembling arms, his grip gentle like he was scared you’d slip away again. as soon as you were steady, he pulled you into his chest, arms wrapping tightly around you like he could protect you from anything.

you collapsed into him, both shaking uncontrollably, breath hitching, body still reeling from the shock. tears streamed down his face, falling freely, unstoppable.

"it's okay," he whispered into your hair. again and again. like a prayer. like if he said it enough, it would become true.

behind you, johanna stared — the tough edge to her face cracking just slightly. she hadn’t thought it was real. not until now. the way finnick held you like his world would end without you ... it was obvious. it wasn't just for show. and that terrified her.