Fic: Someday After Tomorrow [The Hunger Games]
“I’m Death,” the girl says. She has long flowing white curls of hair and lips tinged an eerie blue. “Are you ready to go?”
“No,” Finnick says and the girl closes her frightening red eyes. She sighs and opens them.
“You’ll regret it,” she says and she fades away.
--
He doesn’t regret it but sometimes he almost does. Sometimes when he sees Katniss, scarred and abandoned by those who made her a tool, he wishes he hadn’t stayed. When he sees Peeta, broken and hastily glued together by a monster so like Snow, he wishes he’d raced forward into whatever’s out there.
But he sees Beetee sitting alone, staring blankly at the hands that built the bomb. He sees Haymitch, sobbing quietly as he pours out an entire bottle of whisky in front of a picture of the family he lost.
And he sees Annie, lying in bed, curled into a ball and crying his name at night. The sight of her rips him apart and he screams her name, forgetting she can’t hear him, forgetting she can’t feel him as his fingers melt apart and he beats at the ground, wailing her name.
She doesn’t hear him as tears streak down her cheeks.
--
The funeral is the worst. Everyone is there, Johanna holding Annie frigidly as she trembles in the wind. He doesn’t know whether to think it’s good or not that there is no body.
Instead they make an elaborate wreath of seashells and netting, weaving it with murmurs of Finnick Odair and his love for mad Annie Cresta. Johanna grumbles about how he never stopped mooning over his girl back home, how it was the only thing that kept him alive in Capitol. Annie smiles.
They finish the wreath, a huge shining thing that looks like a crown made from the beach. Katniss places a single pink flower on it.
A primrose.
She leans into Peeta who strokes her hair and whispers, and Haymitch and Beetee take the wreath and throw it into the sea. It bobs on the tide as it drifts out into the sunlit waves.
“You humans and your sentiments,” the white-haired girl sighs. Her tone is neutral but her eyes are condescending. Finnick bristles with rage.
“Excuse us for our emotions,” he snarls. “Excuse us for caring about each other.”
“You’re excused,” she says simply and it occurs to him that this girl, this thing will never understand.
“What the hell are you?” he asks tiredly and she gives him a blank look.
“I’m Death,” she says and that’s that. He looks away from her at his widow, who’s silent as she cries.
--
Annie starts getting sick.
They don’t notice at first because she’s been frail for a while and Finnick’s death didn’t exactly help. But she starts wobbling as she walks and soon the other victors won’t let her out of their sight. It’s Enobaria, fierce, cruel Enobaria, who’s shrieking in alarm when she finds Annie collapsed in the bathroom, one hand dangling across the sink.
Finnick watches anxiously, praying fervently and whispering to her as the doctors come in and out. But suddenly Johanna is embracing her, and Haymitch is laughing and Beetee grins so wide his face seems to break. Only Annie isn’t smiling and he wonders what just happened. It all makes sense when she looks down at her stomach and touches it dreamily.
She’s pregnant, he realizes, and the thought makes him feel sick. She’s pregnant.
But the dead can’t vomit so he settles for curling into himself, his form bursting apart again and again.
“It’ll be a pretty baby,” a voice says. It’s the girl, watching Annie with emotionless red eyes.
“Will it?” he asks, unsure how to feel. She nods, never blinking as she stares.
“Dark hair like the mother. A strong girl, almost as strong. Eyes like yours,” she adds and that one is the final straw.
“I need to go back!” he pleads and he grabs her dress and drags himself to her. She doesn’t move.
“Please, let me go back,” he gasps like he’s forgotten how to breathe. The girl doesn’t even look at him.
“The dead don’t rise,” she says and that is final. He sobs against her legs and wishes that when he first met her, he’d said yes.
--
Annie grows stronger after she learns about the baby. She eats carefully and takes walks with Beetee, holding his hand as he guides her. Slowly her stomach grows and her face becomes fuller, marveling at the life growing inside.
“What are you going to name it?” Haymitch asks gruffly, eyeing her over his cup of spirits. Annie shrugs, stroking her belly and hums a little sadly.
“I miss Finnick,” she whispers with longing, and both Finnick and Haymitch pretend they don’t hear.
--
Johanna takes savage pleasure in beating those she deems sinners. That would mostly be Gamemakers and the laughing rich of the formerly glorious Capitol.
Finnick winces when she knocks down a man particularly harshly - he was the head Gamemaker of her Games. Johanna’s eyes are raging and though he can’t blame her he wishes she would stop. Violence is a part of her but something about this doesn’t seem right.
The next victim is a woman with broken red nails and wide purple lips and he feels cold when he sees her, even though it’s physically not possible. He knows this woman.
Johanna apparently does too.
“Why hello!” she smiles with all her teeth, and the woman looks terrified. “Are you wondering what you’re doing here?”
“Please,” the woman begs and he feels sick. He’s not sure for which of the many reasons.
“Please?” Johanna preens, feigning kindness. “Oh, is that what Finnick said to you? Is that what he said when you screwed him in a pool of Avox blood?”
She leans forward and takes the woman’s throat, crushing with her calloused fingers.
“He was sixteen, you sick fuck.”
This woman is going to die. This woman is going to die for what she’s done to him and Finnick doesn’t know what to think. A tiny part of him is vindictively glad and the other, better part of him is horrified because these aren’t the Games. If Johanna kills this woman it isn’t in the heat of survival or the fury of battle.
This is murder.
“I’m going to enjoy this,” Johanna promises and the woman whimpers. She rises and her victim cringes, her fist flies up -
“Mrs. Odair!” a guard gasps and Johanna freezes.
Annie walks in, her green eyes dull as she carefully avoids the bloody parts of the floor. One hand is on her rounding stomach and Finnick reaches out, wishing he could feel her warmth.
“Annie,” Johanna says flatly, but her eyes are worried and afraid. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I was looking for you,” Annie murmurs. Her eyes flit to the woman. “So I came.”
“You have to go, Annie,” Johanna says. She moves to Annie and holds her shoulders. “I’m just going to finish this one and I’ll find you, all right?”
Annie doesn’t move.
“You’re going to kill her,” she suddenly states and the woman sobs. Johanna doesn’t lie.
“Yes,” she says and Annie’s throat tightens. “I’m going to kill her. For Finnick. She -”
“Screwed him in a pool of Avox blood, he was sixteen you sick fuck. I know.”
Finnick raises his ghostly hands to his face, wishing he could shut this out and scrub this entire moment away. But Annie’s eyes are on the woman as she lowers herself, squatting to look into the woman’s eyes.
“Mercy,” the woman whispers. Her hair is ragged and there are tears in her eyes. “Please, mercy.”
Annie looks into her without emotion.
“Okay,” Annie says and the woman melts into haggard sobs. Annie stands up and Johanna is stepping toward her when suddenly Annie’s boot flies into the woman’s throat. The woman soars across the room, smacking into a wall where she slides down to leave a small smear of blood.
“Clean her up,” Annie tells the guard quietly. He stares at her. She turns to Johanna and takes her arm. “Can we go now?”
Johanna stares at the woman, lying crumpled as she sobs against the wall. Finnick wails, clawing at his face and hair and screaming for his love.
Annie looks down and her eyes blink in surprise.
“I need new boots.”
--
Johanna doesn’t leave Annie for a long time.
--
Annie takes another ultrasound, the tattooed doctor rubbing a strange device on her belly which is smothered in gel. The screen shows a tiny form and Haymitch of all people is crying as Johanna awkwardly holds him. The look on her face would be hilarious if not for the naked wonder as she beholds the tiny life.
Beetee beams and holds Annie’s hand as she marvels at the screen, reaching her fingers out.
Finnick reaches his own fingers out and watches them melt into hers.
--
Annie grows better. She doesn’t cover her ears as much and she lets Beetee fuss over her dieting choices. She drinks with Haymitch (juice for her, alcohol is bad for the baby) and watches Johanna and Enobaria wrestle in the sand.
She blooms, her pale skin kissed by the sun as she walks outside. Some days she rests on the laps of Katniss’s old prep team and they read to her. Her eyes don’t tear up when she looks at the sea and she doesn’t cry when she picks up seashells. She’s moving on.
Most of Finnick is glad. But a small, awful part of him is screaming at her, Look at me.
--
Peeta is here and Annie loves him, laughing as he insists on giving her cakes and cookies and colored pastries. Katniss watches with a warm, tiny smile as Haymitch drinks.
“How are you?” Katniss asks, her eyes too dark for this to be small talk. Annie shrugs, fingers splayed on her belly.
“I’m all right,” she says and she glances down at her stomach. Katniss’s eyes are drawn there too.
“When will you two marry?” she suddenly asks, beaming, and Katniss flushes red.
“Someday,” Peeta answers dreamily and Katniss chokes. Annie takes both their hands.
“I’m glad,” Annie says solemnly and it’s so sincere that they both tear up.
“Do you miss him?” Katniss whispers, her eyes flickering to Peeta. Annie looks sad.
“Yes,” she says softly and she draws her hands away. “I hope he doesn’t miss me.”
“Why?” Katniss asks, but Peeta seems to know. He takes Annie’s fingers and strokes them warmly.
“I don’t want him to be sad,” Annie smiles, and she doesn’t hear when Finnick screams.
--
He’s in Annie’s room, watching her sleep beneath Peeta’s watchful gaze, when the girl appears.
“Come with me,” the white-haired girl says, and he freezes up. But before he can panic she tells him, “I’m going to show you something.”
He follows her a short way from Annie, just outside to the street. A small brown bird is weakly hopping on the pavement with bloody wings.
“Watch,” the girl commands but he’s already watching. The bird flaps its wings hopelessly, getting about an inch off the ground before it collapses into stones. He watches as a ghostly bird soars above its own body, trilling a sad, confused song.
“What’s happening?” he whispers but the girl doesn’t answer. He looks but she’s not there. Instead a sleek white bird with red eyes and wings tipped blue approaches the little bird.
The tiny bird tweets at it, clearly frightened, but eventually hops closer. The white bird cranes its head upwards with glistening red eyes and they soar up, up, disappearing into the sky. There’s a tiny dot of their figures and suddenly they burst into a shower of glorious red light, streaming down like fireworks of living color.
“He was ready,” the girl says and it’s like she was always there. Finnick stares at her and her cold red eyes. She watches him expectantly.
“Thank you,” he manages and she nods her head curtly.
“Someday you’ll be ready too.”
--
Months go by. Peeta and Katniss are living in District 12, or what they’ve rebuilt from it. Haymitch is gone too, and Enobaria. Beetee takes a long time but finally goes to build technology and shape what’s left of the world. Johanna says her gruff goodbye, pretending she isn’t the last to go, and she disappears into ruin.
Finnick stays.
--
The baby’s been born and she’s beautiful with curling dark hair and gorgeous eyes just a little bluer than Annie’s. Finnick’s eyes.
The remaining victors are all there, biting back grins and hiding joyful tears. Beetee gleefully rattles off statistics of the baby’s future now that the Games are gone and Peeta kisses Annie’s cheek.
Finnick watches in silence.
--
It’s been just over a year since he died when he sees her again. He’s in Annie’s home, watching their months-old daughter crawl and blubber and giggle, sucking at her fingers. He hears a sigh and he turns.
It’s the girl, but it’s not the girl. Her hair is white and her lips are blue and her eyes are red but she is something different. Huge, glowing beams of light burst out of her back like sunshine. Her skin is shining in a way that seems so pure and warm that he feels like he’s tainting it just by looking. Her face is not cold but soft, even though he sees no emotion in her eyes.
“Wow,” he manages and it all fades away, leaving just the white-haired girl and her bloody red eyes.
“It was a child,” she informs him and he suddenly feels sick, glancing back at his daughter. She coos. “Its death was not like yours.”
“You change form for the death?” he asks and he thinks of Annie, beautiful Annie, growing cold with blood down her lips.
“Yes,” the girl says and she gives him a look. “It was a soft death.”
“Do you change names?” he asks, thinking of all those old gods and spirits that haunted mere mortals. She nods.
“I was Persephone,” she says. “Bringer of new life.”
He takes a moment to drink in that terrible irony.
“What about now?” he wonders. “What are you called?”
“Keres,” she says and her eyes seem to glimmer.
“And,” he asks and wishes he hadn’t, “what death are you now?”
The white-haired girl gives him a slow, curling smile.
“A violent death,” she hums and he thinks of Enobaria laughing through her jagged fangs.
--
It’s been two years since he died and Annie is at home. Peeta is with her chatting about cakes and the woods and birds that sing to him in the morning. Katniss is holding the toddler, a laughing bundle of flesh and joy, with eyes wide with so much wonder and fear it could break his undead heart.
“How will they die?” he asks, and the white-haired girl blinks coolly.
“The fanged one will be shot by an instigator of violence. Her killer will be executed for his ties to the old Capitol.” Enobaria, he realizes and feels the tiniest pang of sadness.
“The cuckoo will be killed when a weapon malfunctions. He’ll push a younger worker out of the way. A piece of metal will pierce his lungs and he will bleed, quietly, and he will wait for me.” Beetee.
The girl glances at Finnick, taking in the pain in his face, and adds: “His hummingbird will find him.” Wiress?
He opens his mouth to ask but the girl is speaking.
“The huntress will go out into the woods and never return. Wolves will kill her as she kills them.” She pauses. “I will be in this form.”
Johanna. Somehow it doesn’t surprise him that she would end in violence, not at all, yet that certainty that she will die alone is a horrible burst of pain. His form explodes and curls back together, gasping as his hands shakily reform. The girl watches him pitilessly.
“The broken man will simply fade, dreaming of his loved ones while he sleeps.” Haymitch.
She pauses. “For once, I will finally take him.”
“There were other times?” he interjects before she can continue.
“There were many times.” She blinks slowly, her eyes on Peeta.
“The boy who wears his heart as a crown will grow old and fall during work. He’ll linger for a while but I will take him soon after.” She pauses and her lips twitch in what could almost be a frown. “The girl on fire will follow him quickly. Grief does odd things to the human heart.” Peeta. Katniss.
“And?” he asks, his intangible heart pounding within his form. He doesn’t look, doesn’t dare look at Annie.
The girl looks at him.
“She trips down the stairs, thinking of you. Healers will take her but she’ll welcome me with open arms.”
“Will she be ready?” Finnick swallows, even though he can’t. He looks at Annie, at her warm smile and her gleaming green eyes. Peeta says something and she laughs.
The girl looks at him.
“Are you ready to go?” she asks. Finnick drinks in his widow, Annie Odair, winner of the Seventieth Hunger Games and the love of his life. The girl didn’t answer his question but he thinks he already knows.
“Yes,” Finnick says and the girl closes her eyes. She smiles and opens them.
“Come,” she says and they both fade away.
--
It’s many years later when she returns to that place.
“I’m Death,” the girl says. She has long flowing white curls of hair and lips tinged an eerie blue. “Are you ready to go?”
“Is Finnick there?” Annie asks and the girl nods once. “Then yes.”
“You humans and your sentiments,” the white-haired girl murmurs. Her tone is neutral but her eyes are warm. Annie smiles and takes her hand, and closes her eyes as they fade away.