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Once they finally leave me to my own devices in thirteen, I seek out Finnick.
I don't fully know why, just that my feet take me through the corridors until I spot him in his own room. The look on his face is hollow. He tries to mask it when I knock at the doorframe but I saw it clearly enough.
"Katniss," he says without looking away from the wall. His feet are dangling off the side of the bed, his hands are planted firmly next to his thighs.
"Finnick," I answer because I don't know what to say.
He pushes himself further to the far side of his bed. It's a silent invitation to join him. I comply and sit down.
"What do you say, can we take this wall down if we stare at it hard enough together? I've been trying for a week but it doesn't seem to work," Finnick jokes but the humour is lost on me.
"Finnick-," I start but the thought loses its meaning on me too before I can fully form it.
"They have Annie, Katniss."
"I know," I don't know how to make him feel better, "They have Peeta too."
"Annie hasn't done anything to them," Finnick says and the bed creaks where he tightens his grip on the metal frame.
I stay silent. Because I don't know Annie well but I know enough to know that he's right.
"How are you holding up?", he asks after another beat of silence and now it's my turn to grab at the edges of the bed.
"Well enough," I answer because the truth is that I don't know.
"That good huh?", Finnick says and leans back, out of my peripheral vision.
"Why'd they choose me Finnick? What is it that I have that you don't?", I ask before I can stop myself.
"You're the mockingjay."
"I'm not. All I did was survive an arena that was meant to kill me," I refuse to let my voice choke up on me, "I was never meant to do that. It was luck and the Game Makers' rule changes that got me out of there."
"And your intelligence, your hunting skills, your stamina, your strength and the way you played the Capitol with Peeta," Finnick counters, "You are the mockingjay because you give hope to the hopeless and strength to the weak. That is why you're the mockingjay, Katniss."
I shake my head because I don't trust my voice anymore.
"You will lead this rebellion. We will take over the Capitol and we will free Peeta and Annie and Johanna and we make Snow pay for all he did to us," Finnick promises and if I'm not mistaken, there's an emotional edge to his voice as well.
"I always make things worse," I say, forcing a steadiness into my voice that I hope is convincing enough, "Peeta and Annie were captured because of me. It's my fault. It's my fault that District twelve was bombed. It's all my fault."
"No, it's not. It's the Capitol's," Finnick says. There is a finality in the way he says it. No room for a counter.
I roughly swipe at my eyes. I will not cry here. Not for this. Not for me. I don't cry for myself.
"Come here," Finnick all but whispers and I turn to look at him because I don't know what he means. Finnick has settled his back against the head of the bed and his arms are open wide.
He nods and that hollow look is back on his face. I don't know who needs it more but I scoot closer carefully until he closes his arms around me and just - holds me.
Like I do for Prim. Holding. No words. Just two heartbeats trying to calm one another.
I once considered him my enemy, it crosses my mind. How stupid of me to ever think Finnick would hurt me. Would have anyone allowed to hurt me. Ever.
No. Finnick Odair, the victor of the 65th Hunger Games, the golden boy from District four, would never let anyone hurt me. Not in the arena and not here in thirteen. Not if he can help it.
As I listen to his heartbeat, I can't help but think about Peeta. How he's doing in the Capitol. Whether they're treating him like a tribute or like a human being for once.
Finnick is probably thinking about Annie.
I flinch when Finnick rests his head on mine but he just runs a hand down my back and my shoulders relax again.
He's one of the only people who can truly understand. Who can understand the weight of the images in your head of death and destruction. Who can understand why the smell of meat and blood will never be the same again. Who can understand why loud noises make you jump and touches make you flinch.
Maybe that's why I looked for him. Because I know he understands.
I'm pretty sure we both fall asleep at some point but if we do, neither of us speaks about it.
After an hour or so of comfortable silence, I move to leave. Finnick opens his arms without a second of hesitation and I stand up from his bed.
"Thank you," I say once I stand. It doesn't feel too foreign when I say it to him.
"Feel free to return, I don't get much to do around here," Finnick offers and I nod.
"Might take you up on that one," I say and Finnick smiles. It's good to see him smile.
To think that I actually once considered this man my enemy...