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Language:
English
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autfic by autistics
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Published:
2013-12-13
Words:
414
Chapters:
1/1
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8
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118
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14
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2,147

Her hands;

Summary:

Drabble ; autistic Annie and PTSD Finnick, taking care of each other.

Work Text:

Sometimes, he did actually let go of her hand, to see her flapping and to see her smiling, because her smile was the most beautiful thing in his world. Because when her hands were dancing that way, it meant happiness, and Finnick wanted her to be happy. Because when he was feeling himself slipping away, he would do it too, and it made his body feel real. Her hand in his, her voice squeeing with joy or humming was the only truth in this world. Sometimes, she liked to repeat his name, again and again, like a song, and he would repeat hers.

He knew her language by heart. The way she would drum her fingers on his wrist when too much was going on. The way she would wave a hand in front of her eyes if the lights were too bright. The particular way in which she squeezed his hand when she needed to go away in a calmer place now. The way she would shake her head when no, she could not use words right now, the sign language they had invented together when talking was too hard for the both of them. Annie did not talk a lot, but sometimes, it was hard for Finnick as well. After lying so much, after pretending so much in the Capitol, he would sometimes come back to District Four without his voice.

She knew, too. She always made sure he had rope around in case he needed to tie knots, although since she had been back he had rarely needed to keep his hands busy. Of course Finnick had always known those knots, but Annie was the one who had taught him that they could help if he needed to focus his mind on something.

They always knew where they should or should not touch each other, how, when kissing was okay and when it was not, and if they were not sure, they asked. They knew which noise would trigger or hurt the other, which texture would not be okay to touch and which one would, in the contrary, be comforting. Back in District Four, Annie would always carry shells in her pocket so she could fiddle with them. Sadly, it was not something she would be able to find again in Thirteen ; but Katniss, after seeing her rubbing her hands happily on the fabric back in Twelve, had given her one of her old sweaters. She carried it everywhere with her.