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The house is still quiet around them. Annie knows that won't last long. She's surprised that one of the twins isn't up already, but she just relishes this moment, which she thinks is all hers. The baby has been kicking, just underneath her ribs, and she can't fall back asleep. Instead, she watches Finnick. He's curled in against her, his head pillowed on her shoulder, his arm flung protectively across the swell of her body.
She runs her fingers gently through his hair, something that's always calmed her. (Maybe even more her than him.) The silver of the gaping scar that covers his shoulder is just visible. She feels a phantom hit of pain. It's hard not to think about how close she came to losing him and not feel sad, but it's been so long now that it's easy to get caught up in the minutiae of the day. She sees that scar when he goes swimming; he's put each of their children over that shoulder, trying to shush them back to sleep. That mark has become a part of their day-to-day life while some of its painful sting has lessened. When she looks at it, she doesn't first think of the weeks when she thought he was gone. She doesn't remember the all-encompassing despair she felt when she was told that Finnick Odair is gone. We're sorry. There's nothing we can do.
But this morning she does think about that. She feels that familiar sense of fear that used to make up so much of their lives, knowing they were never safe.
He looks up at her suddenly, and she can't help but jump. She hadn't realized he was awake. He smiles at her and she bats him on the nose.
“We don't have to go,” Annie says abruptly, quietly. “We could stay here.” He leans in and kisses her, and she settles back into her skin; they've had this conversation a hundred times already. It's safe, their friends will be there, the kids want to go. For the first time since the end of the war, they're heading back to the Capitol.
Annie smooths her hand gently over Finnick's face, slow to let him go. Downstairs, something crashes and then there's the sound of shrieking. Finnick sighs. He smiles at her, kisses her nose and then her forehead, and then pushes himself out of bed. Annie props herself up in bed as the baby starts to kick her again. She watches him go, admires the set of his body. (Still strong and beautiful, but there's no denying that, without the rigorous workouts and Capitol technology, he's put on weight. She loves where his belly has started to go soft – in the same way that she knows he likes the way her hair is already starting to streak grey in a few places. They're lucky to see these things in each other.)
…
By the time Finnick gets downstairs, the mess has been cleared away. The living room is empty. The couch has a few blankets splayed across it, proof that Johanna has just woken up. Her battered suitcase is tucked underneath the couch. The fact that she's here at all is surprising, but she had arrived three days ago, saying she was also trekking to the Capitol for this little reunion.
Finnick heads into the kitchen. Maggie is at the stove, making pancakes, and has Lily balanced on her hip.
“Daddy!” Lily says joyfully when she sees him. She holds out her hands for him, and Finnick takes her in his arms.
Thank you, he signs to Maggie, who smiles and then nods. She's just turned twelve, and it's still strange for Finnick to realize how much she's grown. Her hair is a lovely strawberry blonde that she recently cut short so that it curls just beneath her chin. She almost always has her head in a book, and it seems that, ever since Maggie has been able to read on her own, they've constantly had books being shipped in from one district or another. Johanna brought with her a book on songbirds and gardening (courtesy of Peeta) and several worn romance novels. Finnick wonders just who those come from, but Johanna had punched him in the arm when he asked.
“Where's Mommy?” Lily asks, chattering happily in his ear as Finnick heads over to the door. Johanna is out in the yard with four-year-old Luke, Lily's twin (although most days unholy terror seems like a more apt description of their relationship. If Mags had met Luke and Lily she would have said they both had the “Odair devil” in them. They go from being inseparable to not being able to stand being in the same room with each other at a whim. Up until they were three, they had persisted in almost exclusively signing to each other – by making up hand movements that Finnick had never seen before.)
Johanna and Luke are kicking a ball back and forth, Johanna still in the T-shirt and shorts she wore to bed. She looks up at him and he grins at her. She flips him off before blocking one of Luke's shots.
“What does that one mean?” Lily asks immediately, copying it and sticking her middle finger up at Finnick. Oh Lord. Finnick makes a soft tutting noise with his lips and shakes his head, tucking her hand back into a fist – and for extra distraction, he pretends to eat her hand. His daughter squeals with laughter and tries to pull her hand away, the obscene gesture (temporarily) forgotten.
“Tristan's down at the beach already,” Maggie says as she starts setting the table. “If you want to go down and join him.”
Finnick wouldn't mind the swim, but he suspects he's not going to get the chance this morning. He shakes his head, takes the plates from Maggie, and sets things himself with Lily hanging off of him. She traces his scar with her fingertips, making noises to accompany each of her actions. Maggie flips a few more pancakes off of the stove until she has a decent stack. By the time she's finished, Annie has come downstairs in her robe (still wincing, which, Finnick guesses, means that Bump is still kicking her). Johanna rushes Luke back inside, and his son sits at the head of the table, sweaty and grinning. His bronze hair sticks up in a mess (the worse combination of his and Annie's hair, to be fair. Luke and Lily both have untamable mops).
“We need to wash our hands,” Annie reminds Luke patiently, smoothing a hand over the top of his head as Finnick takes a seat with Lily in his lap.
“Do you want juice or coffee, Aunt Jo?” Maggie asks.
“Coffee'd be great,” Johanna nods, slumping into a seat beside Finnick. (And pointedly not washing her hands, which Luke whines about with great interest as Annie lathers their son's hands up with soap.)
“Where's Tristan?” Annie asks Finnick over Luke's complaints.
Beach, Finnick answers.
Lily leans in and pretends to eat his fingers.
No pancakes? Finnick signs with his free hand, smiling.
“Hands instead!” Lily trills.
More for me then, Finnick answers, forking three pancakes onto his plate. When he reaches for the syrup, Lily becomes interested once again, perking up.
Around the same time, Tristan appears in the doorway, sweaty and a little sunburned. He has sand all up his legs, a towel hanging around his shoulders.
“Tristan,” Annie says. (She lets Luke go for a moment too long, and he gets suds down the front of her robe.) “Please clean off your feet.” She glances over at Finnick, as if she can feel his thoughts, and he fights back a smile. (She does as well. How many times, after all, had Annie Cresta been chastised for trailing sand into the house?)
“I can't believe you're having another kid,” Johanna says under her breath as she sips at her coffee.
Finally, they're all cleaned and seated, crammed a little too close together with Johanna at the table. There's even a moment of calm when everyone's eating before Luke decides to fling a bit of pancake at Lily. Finnick snaps his fingers and points at Luke, who shimmies a few inches down in his seat but finishes his breakfast without further event.
“Is everyone all packed?” Annie asks in this moment of calm. Predictably, Maggie nods yes while Tristan says nothing – a sure sign of no.
We'll get it done, Finnick reassures her. He's worried about how much stress this trip is causing her. She looks at him, chews the corner of her lip, but then nods. There's a lull, and Finnick thinks that will be the end of it. They'll get Luke and Lily washed up from breakfast and then they'll all go down to the beach for the rest of the day before catching their train tomorrow morning.
But then: “What's the Capitol like?” Tristan asks, looking between Finnick and Annie and Johanna. Everybody goes quiet. Maggie looks up, intrigued, and even Luke and Lily seem to pick up on the importance of this question.
Finnick hesitates. For the first time, he wonders if they haven't told them enough about the war and what happened before. Tristan knows more. He's learned about the Hunger Games and the revolution in school, but everything he's learned is written in a textbook, with distance from the subject. He knows his father won the 65th Hunger Games, and he knows his mother won the 70th Hunger Games. He knows they both were in the war and were in District Thirteen for short awhile. But they've never told him the details of their games, what their life was like after they won but before the war, and what things were like for them during the games. He doesn't know that Finnick was sold; he doesn't know that they weren't supposed to be together; the nuances of how his mother was tortured by the Capitol; and he doesn't know what it felt like when she thought she had lost Finnick. He knows the outline of events. That's a far cry from the events themselves. Everyone in Four is respectful of that. But none of them know what they're going to walk into with the Capitol.
“Haven't been there in a long time,” Johanna manages to say. Tristan looks over at her, but then he looks back at Finnick, as if waiting to see what he will also say. Finnick doesn't know what to say, but then Lily spills her milk, and that demands all their attention again.
…
The rest of them do down go to the beach, and Finnick trusts that between Maggie, Annie, and Johanna, they can handle Lily and Luke. Tristan heads upstairs to pack, and Finnick follows after his son. He pauses for a moment in the doorway, looking in. He had painted this room green when he and Annie had first come back to Four, all those years ago. The room hasn't been repainted since, and the green has faded noticeably, and Tristan has long since replaced the seashell decorations with posters of his own. His surfboard is wedged into one corner, eating up most of the space. His schoolbooks are scattered across the desk, and there is a pile of clothes on the floor. Annie and Finnick have given up fighting him on the cleanliness of it as long as he confines his mess to his room.
They'll probably need to move as soon as the new baby is born. They're going to have to keep the cradle in their bedroom until then. The other bedroom is occupied by Lily and Luke, and the basement has been converted into another bedroom for Maggie. But looking in this room, remembering what it was like to paint it when Annie was still pregnant with Tristan, Finnick can't help but feel a sense of nostalgia for their bursting house.
“I'll get packed,” Tristan says without really looking at him. “You don't need to stay.”
Finnick heads in anyway, settles down on Tristan's bed, which creaks beneath him.
What's wrong? Finnick asks. Tristan sighs and pushes some of his hair out of his face. (He looks a lot like Finnick did at that age; it's something that Finnick knows but didn't really realize until Johanna had shown up and actually stopped dead at the sight of Tristan. Tristan has the same blond hair. It was wavy, like Annie's, while he was a baby, and it's still wavier than Finnick's ever was. He wears it longer too, the main thing that obscures their similarities.)
I want to know about the, Tristan pauses and then switches back to speaking, “Capitol. I'm not a kid. You know I could check out videos of the games from the library, right? They have public records of all of them.”
Finnick didn't know that. His blood runs cold just at the thought of it. What would his son think of him if he saw what he had done when he was his age? The way he'd killed and been revered for it. Or of Tristan watching his mother dip underneath the water, eyes vacant, before she propelled herself back up to the surface again. Each breath had been such hard work, and Finnick had never managed to ask her why it was she didn't just stop. Why did she keep fighting? Where did she get the strength from? (But then, you don't ask any victor that, do you? No one asked Finnick why he didn't stay underwater after he was stabbed; no one asked Johanna how she managed to raise her arm for that final blow even though she was dizzy and concussed. You didn't ask why. You just knew you had to.)
The Capitol isn't easy for us, Finnick answers finally. It hurt us. We almost died there.
“Why are we going then?” Tristan asks, sinking down beside him.
It's important to remember, Finnick signs. And to see how it's changed.
Tristan takes this in, pulling his mouth to one side, weighing Finnick's words.
“Can I ask about your games?” he asks. Finnick pauses and then nods. He doesn't feel ready for this conversation, but then, he doesn't doubt that it's going to come up while they're in the Capitol. He and Annie are victors, and that's always what the Capitol is going to see them as first and foremost. That's a truth their children are going to have to face.
“Did you really volunteer?” Tristan asks. Finnick nods, and he can see the confusion written all over his son's face.
“Why?” Tristan asks, as if it's the strangest thing he's ever heard, which, Finnick supposes, isn't unfair. It's good that his son has grown up in a world where the very notion of children volunteering to kill each other is bizarre. In the world Finnick and Annie had grown up, it had been so normal. You did it for the glory and pride of your district.
I thought it was the right thing to do, Finnick answers.
Weren't you scared? Tristan asks.
Finnick nods.
“And... you killed people?” Tristan asks. Finnick nods again, but doesn't allow himself to look away.
“How many?” Tristan asks.
Finnick holds up one hand, and Tristan just stares. Belatedly, Finnick can't help but wonder what his son thinks of this revelation, that he killed five people when he was fourteen. Is it a shock? (He hopes it is; he doesn't want to be seen as the kind of man who is capable of taking life so easily anymore. And yet, he knows that is a lie, because he is, or at least was, that sort of person. He might have gone through hell and back to reach this point in his life, but will he ever be done atoning for what he did during the Hunger Games? He doesn't know.) At the very least, Tristan doesn't look impressed, which is a relief. That would be an easy thing for a teenager to think when he hasn't seen the horrors of the world, doesn't know what it's actually like when fear and the need to survive are the only two instincts driving you, and you'd sacrifice anything to be able to breathe a minute longer. Now Finnick knows better, of course: There are worse fates than death.
And, Tristan's hands hang in the air for an instant. Mom?
Finnick shakes his head.
“How?” Tristan asks.
A flood, Finnick answers. (Will he ever drive out the image of watching Annie floating on those waves? Assuming he was watching her die by inches? He'd had no idea what she would be to him, not then, but he knew he didn't want to watch her drown. Yet, he'd been glued to the screens, knuckles pressed against his mouth as he watched her vitals continue on and listened to the sound of cannons booming all around her.)
She had to keep swimming, Finnick says – and the words aren't enough, really, not even if he could say them, to describe what had happened, what Annie had done, what they had both felt. (God, had the Capitol hated her. Annie Cresta who stole her crown without killing another tribute and then had the audacity to come out of the arena shaking and crying.)
It lasted hours, Finnick finishes, and this part, at least, Tristan understands. He's a strong swimmer, but he knows what's it's like when your body turns into rubber, when your limbs refuse to obey the simple commands. He'd nearly drowned when he was eight, and Finnick had to swim out and drag him out of a riptide.
Finnick thinks that Tristan will ask about the Quarter Quell next – isn't that the Hunger Games everyone is most interested? (But then, probably also the one that everyone knows the most about as well.)
“Are you scared?” Tristan asks, and his voice is quiet and somber, but he looks directly at Finnick. And Finnick smiles and shakes his head no. He leans in and kisses Tristan gently on the forehead, and Tristan wraps his arms around him for a moment.
They finish packing Tristan's bag together. Finnick puts together the twins' things and then he and Tristan also head down to the beach.
Dinner is a subdued and lazy affair. They grill on the beach and then head back to the house. Everyone is asleep within the hour.
Their train leaves early in the morning and everyone is still half asleep as the plod down to the station. Finnick carries Luke, who falls asleep on his shoulder, snoring softly, and Lily holds his hand, trailing after him as if she might decide to stop walking at any moment. While plenty of people are traveling into the Capitol for the celebrations, the train is still mostly empty at this hour. Luke continues to nap against Finnick, and Lily leans in against his side and falls back asleep a few moments later as well. Annie sits on his other side, one hand resting on her belly as she stares out the window. Finnick doesn't need to ask her to know she's feeling a familiar kick of nerves. He rests his free hand on her thigh, and she immediately reaches down to take his hand in both of hers.
They slide through the districts and the train gets fuller as they get nearer to the Capitol. It's only then that people finally start to stare at them.
He and Annie, ever since they left the Capitol, have lived in relative solitude. They travel to other districts, but only to visit Johanna, or Katniss and Peeta and Haymitch. They haven't been back to the Capitol. They ignore requests for interviews, and District Four, to be frank, isn't much interested in them anymore. They're a part of the daily scenery.
But that's perhaps why they're of more interest to everyone else: Plenty of rumors abounded about the nature of Finnick's injuries after the end of the war with little official commentary from Coin or the following government. And then, of course, they have avoided the spotlight. That makes the draw all the more alluring.
Annie's hold on his hand grows tighter. Johanna raises her head, as if smelling blood in the air.
But Lily and Luke wake up, almost in tandem. Coloring books are pulled out to keep the twins occupied, and they take to scribbling with feverish glee – but Lily keeps looking up whenever anyone passes by them and stares. She starts waving, broad smile in place, and Finnick can't help but find the whole thing amusing. His four-year-old's enthusiasm easily scares away most of the onlookers.
“Why are people staring?” Luke asks with avid interest. Johanna leans forward.
“Because your daddy not being able to talk scares them,” Johanna answers in a faux whisper, certainly loud enough for most of the people surrounding them to be able to hear. Maggie and Tristan both look over at Johanna.
“Jo,” Annie starts to say.
“Daddy talks with his hands,” Luke answers immediately, as if Johanna is being purposefully stupid. Luke twists around to look back at Finnick, as if needing some sort of confirmation. He gets marker on Finnick's pants in the process.
Finnick smiles at him and tries to smooth his hair down again.
The subject is dropped and the rest of the trip passes without issue. They roll into the Capitol on time. Most of the train is empty by the time they've gathered up the kids and all of their bags, but the slight gawking on the train is nothing compared to the crowds in the station. (Without being able to help it, Finnick is taken back to arriving here for the first time, for the 65th games and for the Victory Tour that had followed. Of course, the mood was different then. Scarcely anyone had taken notice of him when he first came to the Capitol, they had been overjoyed to see him for his tour, and he had been a staple here from then up until after the war.)
This is different.
There's something of a hush when they first disembark. Johanna is negotiating all of the bags, but she hands Lily and Luke down to him from the train, one at a time. (Annie warns them that they both need to stay with him.) Lily, as if all of her energy has been expended on the train, suddenly begs to be picked up, and although they are both getting too big for this, Finnick obliges her. Lily looks up at the crowd, putting an elbow on his shoulder so she can look as far as possible. Luke clings to his hand, his other hand grabbing at Finnick's pants leg.
Johanna is the one who starts off their small procession, heading out into the crowd, which parts around her. She has been back here a handful of times, all in relation to the building projects she's assisted with since the end of the war. She's batted off enough photographers that the Capitol knows to give a wide berth. Maggie quietly takes Annie's hand, and they follow after. Tristan lingers by Finnick's side, and Finnick knows they draw the most attention. Everyone wants to see this young son who looks so much like Finnick did when he first arrived here. Tristan seems to be aware of the attention, and maybe it makes him a little jittery, but he mostly ignores it.
The rest of their walk throughout the Capitol is like that, but their hotel isn't far.
It's strange to see how the Capitol has shifted in the time he has been gone. The fashion, while still more noticeable than Four, is nowhere near as ostentatious as it had been. The colors are still bright, the fabrics still bold, but there seem to be far less surgical enhancements. Chunks of the Capitol have been rebuilt (the hotel they're staying in is brand new), but what remains has largely been converted. Lots of little shops have sprung up, the owners people who have come in from the districts. The Capitol is no longer the middleman between products and consumers. Just on the way to the hotel they pass an electronic repair shop, a hair place, a butcher, a baker, and shop for handmade furniture. Even in just listening to people talk, the accent of the Capitol no longer reigns supreme: He hears the drawl of Twelve and the twang from Four.
The receptionist at the hotel also stares at them as they check in, but Annie just requests the keys to their rooms. (Finnick is amused by this interaction. Maybe it's not fair of him, but he loves when people are uncomfortable around Annie because they underestimate her. She is more bold than the world gives her credit for. Hell, she's raising four – about to be five – Odairs.)
When they get upstairs, Luke and Lily run between the two rooms while Maggie, Johanna, and Tristan get settled in.
Annie pushes her shoes off and slides down onto one of the beds. Finnick kneels on the ground in front of her and begins to knead the arches of her feet. She tilts her head back, makes a quiet sound in the back of her throat.
“I love you,” Annie breathes out. They have been together for about half of their lives, and they still have never said those words and taken them for granted. Every time they say them is an echo back to when they weren't allowed, when they could have lost each other at any moment. They have fought, heart and soul, just for the right to say them to each other.
Annie presses her hand into his hair, against the side of his head, and then leans over the bed and kisses him. Finnick tilts his head up and lets the touch linger. He runs one hand gently up her calf, his fingers stroking her skin.
“Do you think Snow knows we're here?” Annie asks.
It's the last question he'd expected from her. They so rarely say his name – and to be fair, these days he rarely occupies their thoughts. He looks up and he knows his surprise shows. She smiles softly at him and reaches down for his hand – his left one, the one with his wedding ring on it. She runs her thumb over the gold.
“I want him to know our beautiful children are here in spite of him,” Annie murmurs. There's no bite of anger or disdain in her voice. She tangles their fingers together and kisses him.
“Mom and Dad are kissing again!” Lily shrieks from the doorway.
…
Despite tucking Lily and Luke into the other bed, Finnick wakes up to find the twins in bed with them. Luke is sprawled across the middle of the bed, his foot wedged against Finnick's face. Lily has her ear pressed to Annie's belly and is singing a song to the baby. Annie is seated up, one of her hand pressed against Lily, but her eyes are still closed.
Finnick presses a hand to her face and Annie's eyes flutter open.
Do you need anything? He asks. She shakes her head and shuts her eyes close again. So, instead, they remain where they are until breakfast is brought in for them. By the time the twins are washed up from that, it's time to get ready to leave. Lily and Luke have opted to match. Finnick gets them into their button-up shirts with green bow ties while Annie makes a valid effort at combing their hair. Lily and Luke seem to find their matching appearance funny and stare at each other, wriggling back in forth in pantomime, as if looking into a mirror.
Tristan comes in to retrieve them while Finnick and Annie get ready. (He wears a pair of khakis and a light blue button up, the sleeves rolled to his elbow and top button undone. There had been a brief discussion on his wardrobe when he'd seen the new outfits that Maggie, Lily, and Luke had all gotten.
“How dressed up do I need to be?” Tristan asked with a wrinkled nose, barely ever out of his swimming trunks.
“However much you want, baby,” Annie had answered without even thinking; after all the times she and Finnick had been forced into clothing they hated, that were uncomfortable, that exploited them, she will never do the same to any of their children.)
Finnick's clothes are so simple, just a button-up and a pair of dress pants, that Annie can't help but smile as she watches him dress. He fumbles with buttoning his cuffs and she crosses the room to help him. What a scandal Finnick Odair is going to make. She turns when she's finished with him, moving her hair out of the way, and he tugs up the zipper on the back of her dress. He leans in though, presses his mouth against the side of her neck and just remains there. His hand caresses the bump of her belly through the green fabric.
They both know this will be their last baby together and while Annie has never been overly fond of being pregnant, they both ease through this pregnancy together.
“Mom?” Maggie asks, popping her head in the main door. Finnick lets go of Annie, stepping away so their daughter can walk inside.
You look pretty, Finnick signs to Maggie, who smiles shyly, tucks her hair behind her ear. She's wearing a green dress with a floral pattern.
“Thanks, Dad,” Maggie answers as she hands her hairbrush to Annie. Annie starts to comb out her hair even though it's really too short for Annie to do anything with it now. Maggie still relaxes underneath her touch. When Annie done, she tucks Maggie's shining hair behind her ear, and Maggie reaches forward to begin braiding Annie's hair.
Finnick packs together a few things they'll need to entertain the twins throughout the day.
Johanna (wearing a pair of grey trousers, a white button-up, and a large black suit jacket, which Finnick thinks can't possible be hers) waits outside in the hall with the twins and Tristan. She's playing some kind of finger game with the twins that Finnick can't follow the nuances of, but Lily and Luke seem to enjoy all the same.
Finally, they're ready to go – or, so Finnick thinks. They have three false starts: the first when Maggie decides she needs a sweater, the second when Annie sends Finnick back up to get her more comfortable shoes, and the third when Luke decides that he can't actually leave the hotel without his blanket.
There's no time to be nervous.
It doesn't seem like they're actually going to ever arrive and then they're at the monument. It has been roped off for the occasion. Two assistants with clipboards wait to take people's names. Annie approaches one of them – who instantly and obviously recognizes them.
“The Odairs,” Annie says regardless. (Finnick bites at his lower lip in amusement.) “Oh, and Johanna Mason.” Annie tacks on.
“Not an Odair,” Johanna clarifies.
Someone flashes a picture of the lot of them. Finnick can see Annie close her eyes for a moment, as if she's trying to stop herself from completely flinching. But then they're guided inside. Luke and Lily tug impatiently at him, wanting to see everything all at once. Their group is at the mercy of the twins.
Finnick has never seen the monument before. Each stone obelisk has the names of the victors from each games written on it. Immediately, Finnick realizes he doesn't like it. He doesn't need to look at Annie to know that she doesn't either. She drifts toward his side and he reaches for her hand. They follow after their children, who are cutting a path through the crowd. Everyone is lingering in certain spots, drinking and eating hors d'oeuvres. Finnick nods at a few of them as people look toward them. There aren't many children here, and their group sticks out.
Unsurprisingly, Tristan has found District Four. He looks up at their names with an unreadable expression on his face.
“Which one is Mom's?” Lily asks.
“This one,” Tristan points out Annie's name and then moves up another line. “And this is Dad.”
Lily strains on her tiptoes, as if she'll be able to touch them too. Finnick swoops in and picks his daughter up. She runs her fingers over Annie's name first and then over Finnick's. Her fingers slow over “Odair,” which is the word she recognizes most easily.
“That's you, Daddy.” She looks down at him and smiles. She has no idea why his name is really up here, but just being able to find him makes his daughter happy. Of course, Luke wants to go next, so Finnick sets Lily down and hefts Luke up who traces both their names with the same intensity.
When he turns, he notices that Maggie is looking curiously up at “Mags Cohen” at the very top of the monument. He gestures her over and while he can't pick her up any longer, he helps her stand on the lip of the monument, making sure she doesn't fall. She shies for a moment, obviously aware of how she's a head above the rest of the crowd now, but then copies her brother and sister and traces Mags' name with tentative fingertips.
Not for the first time, Finnick's heart pinches and he wishes that Mags could have seen his children. He knows how much she would have loved them and would have spoiled them to pieces. She would have taught them all to swim and read them the same bedtime stories she had told Finnick and taught Maggie how to knit. He knows, beyond any doubt, that none of them would be here right now if it weren't for her.
(Also, since becoming a father, he really understands the position he put her in when he volunteered. The idea of losing any of his children to the Hunger Games is simply unthinkable.)
Maggie pivots on the monument turning to face him and Finnick holds her by the waist and brings her back down to the ground. She hugs him once she's standing on her own again.
“Peeta!” Lily and Luke abruptly scream in tandem. Before anyone can grab them, they're running back up to the entrance where Peeta and Katniss have just arrived. It seems as if everyone in the square is quiet for a moment, pivoting toward where Peeta and Katniss, the makers of the revolution, stand. Only Lily and Luke careen forward. To them, after all, Peeta is just one of their favorite uncles; to them, his love and charisma never changed the fate of a nation, his persistence never helped heal anything. They only thing they care about is how much he will hug them when they see him, if he will have any sweets, and how long he will be allowed to play with them.
Peeta, in turn, has eyes only for them. He grins, kneels (so smoothly no one would know of his lost leg), and opens his arms for both Lily and Luke to rush him.
Beside Finnick, Maggie smiles faintly, and Finnick is certain his daughter would also like to be allowed to rush across the square.
But it's Tristan's expression that Finnick ends up focusing on. He's watching Peeta more closely than usual, and Finnick suspects, that for the first time, he's seeing Peeta as something more, with all those connections to the past sprouting in place. His son is growing out of his childhood. This shouldn't really be a surprise. He's fourteen. He's taller than Annie now, will soon be taller, Finnick suspects, than him. All of those questions about the Hungers Games – he's sure more will follow. But there's a sort of maturity on Tristan's features that bring this all into sharp focus. He misses, with a sharp intensity, the infant who came smiling into this world. He'd been so curious about everything, could be content just watching Annie and Finnick for hours when he was very young – and then so into everything. It was hard to leave him alone at all, because he would get into whatever he could. Finnick remembers him flailing hands at him and Annie, trying to share everything he was feeling whenever he encountered something new. How many times had they gone for walks on the beach which would end with Tristan running back to them with armful of trinkets – shells that were uniquely colored that Tristan would show off as he was the first person in the world to make such a discovery?
He is yanked back into the present by the high-pitched laughter of the twins.
Finnick wraps an arm around Maggie and they head over to where Peeta is still entertaining his other two children. He's only halfway there when he actually looks at Katniss, who is still standing, just behind Peeta. One of her hands rests gently against his shoulder. But what's most striking is the well of her stomach. She's pregnant.
Plenty of others seem to be realizing this at the same time, and the crowd buzzes around them. Katniss, in her way, both ignores them and challenges them to actually say anything to her. (For so many years, people had wondered and gossiped over why Katniss and Peeta hadn't had children yet, and Katniss had always been so irritated with everyone sticking their noses into her business. And here she is now, visibly pregnant, and clearly telling them that her decision still isn't any of their damn business.)
Finnick smiles.
Hi, he signs to Katniss.
She smiles back at him, in that way that shows she is both amused and irritated by him in one fell swoop.
Hello, she answers.
“Finnick,” Peeta says warmly when they reach him. He straightens back up, even though Lily and Luke are still hanging off of him. He shakes Finnick's hand, his touch steady.
“It's good to see you again,” he continues and then leans in to hug Maggie. Finnick pats him on the shoulder and shifts to stand beside Katniss.
If you really want to piss people off, we can keep signing, Finnick says. More people know signing now, to be sure, but he doesn't think many of the people here will. Katniss lets out a contained laugh.
I knew there was a reason I kept you around, Odair, Katniss answers. Out of their friends (outside of Pollux, of course), she is probably the best at signing. Johanna will start a conversation with her hands and then go, “Ah, fuck,” the moment it slows her down and switch back to talking. Peeta had stuck with it dutifully until he realized that Finnick was just as comfortable listening to someone talk. (He is perhaps quickest to get Finnick's jokes still though.)
How's Annie? Katniss asks an instant later. They both look toward where Annie is still standing with Johanna and Tristan, pulled into a conversation with Effie Trinket and a few new officials. Annie quietly holds their son's hand and has her other hand draped across her belly. She looks over at them, as if she can feel the pull of Finnick's gaze, and wrinkles her nose. Finnick smiles back at her.
Good, Finnick answers.
Katniss leans into him suddenly, wraps her arms around him.
“I missed you,” she says quietly.
Finnick squeezes her gently in return. If anybody had told her what close friends they would become back when they met during the Quarter Quell, he suspects she would have thought that was hilarious. What could they possibly have had in common back then? Him, a Career, seven years older than her, who was the Capitol's most notorious playboy? Her, volunteering to save her sister, with her grit and determination and defiance? But the cores of themselves aligned more than anyone would have thought possible and in the end, they had grieved together. Thirteen had bonded them: both of them desperate and blaming themselves (and the world) for what they thought was lost forever.
He puts only a little bit of distance between them, enough so that she can see the flash of his hands.
Are you okay? He asks.
Scared, she answers honestly. Her eyes flit back to Peeta, who has taken the twins back over to Annie and Johanna. He has Lily on his shoulders.
Peeta is so excited, she adds an instant later. She looks up at him. How do you do it?
This isn't the most fair of questions to her, and he doesn't know how, precisely, to put that into words. He and Annie had always fantasized about being able to do what was perceived as normal, because they weren't allowed to. Going on dates, being married, settling down with a family – those were things they knew they wanted, but thought were unobtainable. He knows it's not the same for Katniss, even if the world has told her she should want these things now; aren't they what she fought for?
You'll figure out what's right for you and Peeta, he answers. She bites at her lip, but the nods, and hugs him again.
They straighten finally, appraising the nearly full square.
Jesus, she says, hitting him on the shoulder. I don't know why you didn't call Tristan, Finnick Jr.
Gross, Finnick answers.
Someone taps at the microphone at the front of the stage and the music cuts out, signaling they should all take their seats. Finnick puts a gentle hand on Katniss' back and they meander through the crowd. It comes as no surprise when their table is near the front – all the Odairs, Johanna, and then Katniss and Peeta. Cressida and Pollux are at the table just next to theirs and Pollux smiles brightly when he seems them.
Finnick settles into his seat beside Annie. Lily climbs into his lap and Finnick begins pulling out coloring books, passing one over to Peeta, who currently has Luke. There are already some empty bags on the table, which Finnick takes to mean that Peeta brought cookies for the kids. (Lily has crumbs down the front of her shirt.)
“We would like to thank you all for coming,” President Flynn says from the stage. She is young and out of District 9, but had deftly picked up from Paylor when she left the office. Although Flynn is nearing the end of her second term, Finnick has yet to meet her in person. The crowd quiets completely.
“Fifteen years ago, we set out to make this country a better place,” Flynn begins, “Aware that such a path was not going to be an easy one. For years, the districts of this country were made to sacrifice their children, their well-being, and their resources. But with the combined forces of Panem and the inspiration of a few brave young men and women, together we set this country in a new direction. To succeed in that, we also lost. We lost friends, family, lovers, brothers, and sisters. But we did this so that our futures can be a little brighter. We did it because we knew it was right. And that's what we work toward each day while we're still here. Our world is an imperfect place, but we shouldn't become complacent with the wrongs of it.” She leans back a little.
“In setting up for today, there was a lot of questions about what sort of tone we should set for the fifteenth anniversary of the war and the ending of the Hunger Games. Should it be a celebration? Should we remind ourselves that whatever we've done is better than what we have, because we're not blindly sending children out to die? Should it be a reminder of the work we still have to do? That even though travel is open between the districts and that the poverty levels have decreased significantly, that there are still those in the outlying districts who don't have consistent access to medical facilities they may need and jobs in fields they can succeed in? Or should it be one of mourning? That the deaths we suffered in getting here were far too high?”
She pauses for a moment.
“I would say it has to be all of these things. We can't succeed in moving forward unless we remember those who we lost along the way. We have to remember that war is something that decimates us, pollutes the human spirit. Our generation is forever wounded because of it. But those reminders will help us keep from straying too far from what set forth to do: to make Panem a just and healthy country for everyone.”
The applause is exuberant. Lily looks up and then starts to clap too, even if she doesn't know precisely what she's clapping for. Flynn steps away from the stage and the screen behind her lights up. One of the famous clips in their history begins to play, no sound: Katniss and Peeta, raising the berries to their mouths, before letting them fall to the ground.
The image blanks out for a moment, and the screen is dark as the sound finally kicks in. Finnick is surprised at what he hears: his own voice.
“This is Finnick Odair, winner of the 65th Hunger Games, coming to you alive and well from District 13.” His image fades in halfway through the sentence, and there he is, talking on top of the rubble of District 13, waiting to see if Annie will be saved. Beside him, Annie reaches for his hand and grips him hard underneath the table. Tristan looks at him a bit sharply, as if he expecting his reaction to be upset. Maggie has one hand pressed to the front of her throat.
Lily keeps looking between him and the image on the screen, as if she is trying to align the two.
He disappears from the screen and then the footage fades to images of the war, all set to Katniss iconically singing the Hanging Tree song. Everything is quick, difficult to tell what's happening – but almost everyone here knows, because they were a part of these attacks or were watching them very closely. That cuts and abruptly there is Finnick and Annie's wedding, the two of them laughing together, dancing, apparently unaware of the camera that is tracking their motions. Finnick says something to Annie, unheard by the camera, and she just leans in to kiss him. The image fades away and then shifts to the reports that came in while the Star Squad was in the Capitol, reporting all of them – him, Katniss, Peeta – as dead.
It's only during this that Finnick realizes Maggie is shaking. Finnick squeezes Annie's hand again and passes Lily over to her. (“Dad!” Lily starts to say, an outburst of sound amid so much quiet. Annie calms her down immediately, picking up a blue crayon and starting to shade in a page.)
Finnick retrieves his oldest daughter, who stands unevenly and tucks herself against him. They walk out of the square together, toward the back entrance. Everyone watches them go, but no one dares to say anything. Finnick manages to find them a bench, mostly hidden by trees, where he trusts that no one is going to stumble upon them. As soon as he sits Maggie down, she bursts into tears. He wraps his arms around her and she cries into his shoulder. He rubs a soft hand against her back and waits until she calms down.
“I'm sorry,” she hiccups, tries to say. He shakes his head.
Do you want to tell me what's wrong? Finnick asks.
“I don't know,” she asks, still trying to get in a full breath. “It was just hard to watch, and I couldn't help but thinking about you and Mom, and all those things you both went through and...” She's talking too fast. Finnick gestures for her to breathe and she does so, shakily. He smiles lightly at her and then presses both of his hands gently over her ears. She looks up at him as if she's not certain about what he's doing, but then closes her eyes and just focuses on breathing. She presses one of her hands over top of his.
Annie appears around then, finding them, as she always does. She drapes one arm across the back of Finnick's shoulders and then touches Maggie's chin gently. Maggie looks up at her. Her eyes well with tears, but she isn't hysterical anymore. She stands up so that she can hug Annie, and Annie enfolds her gently.
“Feel better?” Annie asks quietly.
“I'm sorry, Mom,” Maggie answers. “I didn't mean to pull you away from everything.”
“We'd rather be here with you, baby,” Annie answers warmly, pulling away so she can press a kiss to their daughter's forehead. “Do you want to talk?”
Maggie shyly shakes her head.
“Can we just sit out here for a little bit?” Maggie asks.
“Of course,” Annie answers. They sit back down on the bench, Maggie sandwiched in between them. Behind her, Annie and Finnick hold hands again. They can faintly hear the conversation at the square start back up again, but they're in no rush to head back in. Annie is absolutely right; most of this night will be about reliving bad memories for them, for being grateful they're not in those places anymore. But Finnick doesn't need to be reminded that he and Annie almost lost each other, that they were both almost killed so many times, to be grateful for time with his children. He loves them, and sitting out here with his wife and his daughter, just enjoying watching the stars come out, means everything.
“Is there a full video of your wedding?” Maggie asks. Finnick looks over at Annie, because he's not sure. They've only seen the propo made from it, but Cressida and her team surely shot more than that. What has happened to the raw footage? It's hard to say. It's been so long.
“We can ask,” Annie answers. “Do you want to see it?”
Maggie nods and then smiles again.
“You both looked so young,” Maggie says.
Finnick looks at Annie above Maggie's head, wriggling his eyebrows: They aren't young anymore.
The rest of their evening passes more calmly. After dinner everything takes on a more laid-back edge, and they are able to mingle with friends they haven't seen in years without the somber edge of the war hanging over them so much. Annie and Finnick spend most of the night dancing (though, despite her sensible shoes, Annie's ankles ache). They are still amongst the last people on the dance floor. (Their children are spattered across the square. Lily and Luke are hiding underneath a table that Johanna is playing poker at. Maggie is talking to Peeta about the next book he is working on while Tristan has spent a large chunk of his evening with Cressida and Pollux, who have told him some of their tamer war adventures.)
Annie has her head tucked underneath Finnick's chin. Their hands are clasped together against his chest, and then barely away from their bodies. They sway back and forth, the motion light. In truth, Annie is listening to Finnick's heart beating, a sound that soothes her more surely than anything else. She keeps her eyes closed and languishes in the sensation of being surrounded by him.
“I love you,” she tells him.
Their slog back to the hotel is lazy and slow. Lily and Luke are both asleep and need to be carried, and even Tristan and Maggie trail after them sleepily.
Annie and Finnick get the twins tucked in first (who, thankfully, do not stir), and then head for their own bed. Annie barely has the energy to get her dress off. She lays down on top of the covers and then Finnick, clad only in his boxers, sits down at the edge of the bed. He picks up her feet one by one and gives her a careful massage. Her eyes are once again shut by the time Finnick slides up next to her – but then the baby kicks her, just underneath her ribs, and she lets out a quiet sound of discomfort. Finnick places his hand on top of her belly and rubs, as if the baby will understand his intention. She rests a hand on top of his.
“Who do you think this one will be?” Annie murmurs, looking down at their joined hands. She has vivid memories of carrying each of their children and it is odd to look back at them now and see the people they have become. It's a senseless question in many ways, she knows. Neither of them could predict it, but she supposes what she's really saying is that she's excited to meet their next beautiful child. Their last baby. The last time they'll be woken up late to crying and worry about feeding schedules and coax him or her into their first steps and first words.
But then, there are so many things she looks forward to doing with all of their children, continuing to see who they turn into. Knowing Finnick will be beside her for all of it.
He leans down and kisses the swell of her belly and starts to hum, the same song that all of their children have adored over the years. She falls asleep to the sound of it, her hand in his hair. Tomorrow, they'll return home.