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Peeta

[anniesgonemad]

[flours]

[ There's a ceremony for Finnick once the dust has begun to settle, back in District 4. One of many, broadcasted throughout the country, in memory of fallen heroes. The idea was fishy, uncomfortable, too close for some to the trials they had suffered for so long, but perhaps it was for the best. It had been suggested by Plutarch and caught on, the idea of creating unity in memoriam, in a format that would give the former districts power without alienating those comfortable in the capitol, and it seemed to be working. They could remember together, rebuild together, begin again on the ashes of those who gave their lives for this grand idea.

And for their credit, they let the districts respect their fallen heroes their own way, without the pomp and flash the Capitol was used to, because it wasn't for the Capitol.

He notices that Annie is gone half-way through the ceremony, when Milo starts shrieking and is silenced not by his frantic, unsteady mother but by an elderly woman who reminds him of Mags. He tells Katniss that he's going to go find her, and that he needs to be away from all of this for just a moment, and his feet take him to the water's edge. He sees her in the distance, sitting in the surf, and takes his time to get to her. He needs to breathe himself, knows better than to rush on her. ]

You know, this beach is actually really nice.

[anniesgonemad]

[Annie has always gone to the beach, to the water, to try to get away from the ghosts inside her head. There are far too many here. The house she long since shared with Finnick stands as empty as the house that was put aside for her own family. They're occupied by ghosts, and Annie herself feels as if she is one of them.

It had taken time, for the funeral arrangements to be planned. Long enough that Annie had been able to give birth to their son, beautiful Milo Cresta-Odair (hyphenated, of course. He was the son of both his mother and his father). Milo had his mother's messy mop of hair, but his father's eyes. He was calm and loving, pulling on his mother's hair when he recognized her getting upset. When he had been in utero, he kicked her to get her to come back from wherever it was she had gone away to.

The funeral itself was lovely, the traditional violin music of District 4 playing. Finnick's mother and his younger brother played the role of doting family members, when they'd long-since been estranged. His father was not with them, having died some time ago. Annie's family, as well, was not there. They had been killed, the three of them, punishment for Annie's insanity. For the frantic, terrified mutterings of a young woman who had been pulled from the arena just days before.

She didn't like the games. She'd said so. And her family had suffered.

And would continue to suffer.

She'd handed Milo to one of the women that Annie had grown closer to in District 13, one of the women that had come to make sure she was okay, when news of Finnick's death had reached them. The few that had stuck by her side when she'd retreated further into her head.

She'd taken off, running in her bare feet down to the beach, desperate for the surf, for Finnick. Perhaps her family, who had been buried at sea, as was customary in District 4. Finnick's body had never been recovered, or they would have done so. Instead, they gave him the memorial for those who had been lost.

Annie had swum until she was tired, before crawling back up to the beach, bedraggled as always, curling in on herself. She was 22 now. Far too young for all of this to have happened. They all were.

When Peeta speaks, she has her eyes trained on the horizon.] It's wrong. [She wastes no time in telling him.]

[flours]

[ There's no argument in him, no logical devils advocate reason to present. She's right, it is wrong. All of it, everything that has happened and everything that continued. Any of them even being alive when some weren't...it was wrong. Entirely.

Even with good intentions, he knows how wrong it can be. In twelve they had toasting for weddings, and in Four they had whatever funeral tradition they had. It couldn't possibly be what was presented, what was best to feed to the masses.

So he doesn't argue. He just sits down in the surf with her, letting his pants can get and sand to sink into his shoes. ]

I know. What would you have done, if we could have it our way?

[anniesgonemad]

[What would she have done? So many things differently. If they could have it their way, nothing would be as it is now. Not a damn thing.]

We'd have his body. Burial at sea. [An old District 4 tradition, the sea gave to you, so you gave to the sea. That, and the cliffs would erode over time, tumbling any graves down below.] Wouldn't be alone. Have people.

Would be a pretty day out. Would still have my family here. My friends. We would be happy. There wouldn't be anymore sad. Milo would understand. Would never have to learn why his mother is so wrong. Milo would have a father. [Her words were gaining momentum as she kept looking out to sea, salt water stinging her eyes. Both hands were twisting their way into her hair as she kept speaking, louder and louder.] He would be here. He wouldn't be dead. He would have- he would have turned around! He wouldn't have gone! He would have stayed! Stayed with me! He shouldn't have gone!

[flours]

[ As her words, her breath, her pacing gained momentum and became more erratic, Peeta's body tense and his own heart began racing. He knows his own triggers a little better now, and seeing another person in a manic state of panic never did anything good. His hands shot up to grab her arms, firmly and (he hopes) not too tightly. ]

Hey--Hey, Annie, Annie, Shh, calm down. Listen to me, okay, you need to calm down.

[anniesgonemad]

Todl him! Told him! Asked him, begged him to stay! Know he had to- propos- but shouldn't have! Husband-! Finnick! FINNICK! [Annie tries to move from Peeta's arms, to dash into the waves, trying to find solace in the water, somewhere, anywhere near him. She only gets a few paces away, before the water trips her up and she comes to fall on her knees, sobbing.]

Finnick... Finnick...

[flours]

[ He's come a long way, from what he remembers to be the truth. A few months prior her struggle away from him might have caused him to lash out as well, but now he taught himself well. He taught himself to breathe again, to be reasonable, and while when he goes back after her his grip might be slightly too tight, it's not without control and calm.

He gets down into the water with her, wrapping his arms around her and stroking her hair. His mother never did this for him, but he had seen so many mothers and fathers comfort their children, had done the same for his siblings. He's no stranger to the pain of sobbing.]

I'm sorry...Cry it out.