Finnick had lost Mags. His mentor, the one that had helped him so much during all those years. There was a part of him that understood why she had done it; and the rest of his brain screamed that it was his fault — that he could have saved her.

The force field blowing out had done a lot onto Finnick's body; but to say he was in any good shapes mentally was a lie. Rhe thoughts running through his mind as he was saved by Haymitch and Heavensbee. He truly just wanted to rest.

But it was impossible now; not when the rebels were ready, when the revolution was en-route to destroy the Capitol and President Snow. Finnick prayed for the plan to work; for everyone to get along; for Katniss to understand her role.

But after being rescued from the arena, direction District 13, Finnick needed some time for himself; a way to breathe again, for his thoughts to get clearer. His plan had been to protect Katniss and Peeta, and now, what?

District 13 was so close and before he could realize, Finnick had been placed in an hospital room; he was in bad shape, with cuts, bruises and burns that needed to be taken care of. His mind was elsewhere, remembering the games, what he had lost.

He didn't know how to feel except distressed, unable to focus on the words coming from Haymitch's mouth and after a while; the silence took over the room. Finnick felt alone, like no one could understand (they could).

A voice talked, breaking him out of his thoughts. "Sorry?" he lifted his head to see you, a nurse sent by Coin to make sure he was taken care of. Finnick smiled, just enough to show he was listening. He'd hate to appear mean.

And a presence in the room was what he truly needed, even if he didn't say anything. He couldn't count on his thoughts at the moment. Finnick sat up as you walked closer to take a look at his injuries. He watched as you worked on his skin.

"It doesn't hurt anymore." he ended up saying, as if to say it was alright; you didn't had to do all this. "I'm sure some have it worse, yes? I'm good."

He wasn't.