Work Text:
Finnick gulped for air as he stared at his broken reflection in the foggy mirror. It wasn’t the mirror that was broken though. It was him. His jaw clenched hard as he pressed his fingers against the wall and tried not to grind his teeth. Annie always told him not to, but right then he did not care. He badly wished he had another dose of morphling. Finnick had just returned from a trip to the Capitol for The 73rd Annual Hunger Games. These trips always included lots of acting and conversations with the Capitol elite. Which led to alcohol and touching which led to… sex - if he could even call it that. It’s not like he could say no. It’s not like he ever really wanted to do it. Especially not after meeting Annie.
Not to mention, Hunger Games trips also included the death of at least one child from his district. This year it was both of them. The girl had her throat slit, and the boy was eaten by a mutt. Finnick knew his parents. They were good people. The boy’s death was so gruesome he had to look away, and even the short scene of what he saw was enough to haunt him. Almost as much as the things the Capitolites made him do.
Finnick shivered at the mere thought of it. A politician and an actor. They made one scary pair. They paid a pretty penny for him too. A million dollars. Most of it going to the Panem government. Finnick hated that he was desired so much that people would pay such an exorbitant amount of money for him. The scratches on his back still stung, and his bottom was sore from the whip he was subjected to. Capitolites tended to have violent and perverted fantasies which they frequently made reality when they had him in their grasp. He covered his mouth to quiet his whimpering at the thought that he would probably never be free.
Tears streamed from his eyes. Finnick didn’t want Annie to hear him cry- not yet. Not that it would change anything if she did, but he wasn’t ready for her to see him in the state he was in. He was standing outside of the shower after scrubbing his skin until it stung. On the other side of the door was the second part of the bathroom where Annie was drawing a bath. She always gave him some space when he returned from the Capitol, and when he was ready he would come out. This time Finnick secluded himself for his shower faster than usual. That’s how Annie knew it was bad.
She turned off the tub once the soapy water reached just beneath the overflow drain, and waited patiently for Finnick to be ready to come and join her. It was their ritual every time he returned. Annie made him a plate of food, then he spent his first moments alone in days or even weeks in the shower while she got a bath ready and put clean, comfortable clothes on the counter and the softest towels they had on the towel rack. Then, when Finnick was ready, he and Annie would get in the tub together. It’s not like he really needed to bathe again, he always scrubbed his skin raw in the shower, and this time his scalp and hair too. But he never felt fully clean until Annie touched him.
Once Finnick heard the bathtub shut off he knew he had to come out soon before the water got cold. He pulled himself out of his trance and finally opened the door. On the other side was Annie with a soft towel wrapped around her body.
“Are you ready?” she gently asked.
Finnick nodded, avoiding eye contact with his beautiful partner. He was too full of shame to look at her right now. Though he knew she never judged him. He removed his towel then quickly submerged his nude, exposed body into the warm water. He felt vulnerable naked. Like any second that Capitolite couple would come bursting into the bathroom informing him that Snow lended him to them for another night. Leaving him and Annie powerless to do anything. His mind raced. What if Snow started selling Annie too? Or both of them as a package deal? The thought made his blood run cold with terror every time he considered it. He could never make a customer upset or Snow might punish him by hurting Annie. He could never, ever let that happen.
“Finnick, you’re shaking,” Annie whispered from behind him. He didn’t even notice her getting in the tub, but there she was with her legs outstretched beside his.
“Oh.”
“Can I touch you?” she asked.
Finnick faintly smiled. “Always.”
Annie gently touched his back, tracing her fingers over the lines of broken blood vessels and replacing the touch of the whip with her soft fingertips. She ran them up and down his shoulders and arms, then his spine and hips. She lingered on his hips and waist a little longer when he flinched, something Finnick always wanted her to do. He needed her to replace their touch.
Finnick sighed with relief. He felt like such a stranger in his body. His skin foreign. But Annie brought him back to himself. To the quiet life they’d built together here in District 4’s Victor’s Village. Annie wrapped her arms around him and leaned back so he was lying against her. She traced little circles on his stomach with her finger and nuzzled her face against his neck. Finnick settled his arms on her legs and closed his eyes. Annie hated seeing him like this. She wanted it all to stop. For his pain to go away. Sometimes she wished she could take on some of the burden- it's not like Snow hadn’t threatened selling her before too. But she knew it would kill Finnick, and probably her as well. Someone needed to be able to be strong for him, unaffected by his same pains, to keep him held together.
So Annie held him in the tub, tracing his skin and planting kisses on his face and neck, until the water was cold and their skin pruny. Annie got out of the tub and wrapped her soft seashell printed towel around her body, then held the other open for Finnick. His favorite seahorse towel. He smiled at the sight of it and Annie wrapped it around him with a hug.
The two of them pulled on their pajamas and Annie guided Finnick into their room. He was relieved to see their familiar dark wooden bedframe with the hanging seashell net decoration that Annie made by hand draped above it. Annie pulled back their soft green duvet and Finnick slipped under, reaching out and pulling her on top of him. Annie giggled with surprise and Finnick too. Her laugh was contagious.
Finnick knew everything was going to be okay. At least until next year's Hunger Games. And when the time came, they would make it okay then too. They always found a way.