To Save a Victor

Chapter 22

Eyes like the sea were inches from mine. Familiar, those eyes, "Enough Sage! There is no changing this! It is done! SO JUST LEAVE IT!"

Something in my mind snapped back. Like someone had pinched me. I was on the train. Going to the Capitol. Going to the Quarter Quell. Finnick. That was who was shouting at me, or had been a moment ago

It should be me comforting them. Not the other way around.

My name is Sage Beatty. My name is Sage Beatty and I made it out. My name is Sage Beatty and I got out. I got out. I got out. I got out.

I looked down at the stain spreading across the tablecloth. A wine stain. Just a wine stain. Releasing my grip on the knife, I stepped back, not looking Finnick in the eye.

Don't break down right now Beatty.

Pointing towards the door I turned pleading eyes to Ash. She nodded in understanding, motioning for me to go. The bile was rising in my throat. Pain and terror coated every inch of my skin so thick that I tried to wipe it away. It didn't work. 

Don't break down right now.

My hands started shaking as I pushed my chair back in and made my way towards the door.

"You aren't going to bother excusing yourself?" Finnick. That was Finnick's cold voice. 

Don't you dare break down right now.

"Please excuse me."

...

I barely made it to the bathroom down the short hallway before my dinner made its reappearance.

...

Finnick found me in one of the small bedrooms an hour later. His features were warry, like I might try to claw his eyes out for what he had said. When I didn't acknowledge him, he just leaned his massive body on the doorframe and waited.

"What do you want, Fin?"

"Can I come in?"

I glared up at him, "Since you're hell bent on doing what you want I don't think it would matter what I said right now."

His eyebrows rose, "If you want me to go, I'll go."

I shook my head, not trusting my voice, so I patted the bed beside me. Finnick pushed off of the wall and came to sit beside me, the mattress dipping under his weight. We sat there in silence for a while, neither one looking at the other, just staring a hole into the wall before us. I pulled my knees up to my chest, hugging them.

Finnick broke the silence first. "I'm sorry that I yelled at you."

A sigh left my lips, resignation settling over me like a blanket that tried to smother the fear still burning through my veins.  "I'm sorry that I freaked out."

He chuckled a lifeless, painful sound. No joy. Not like there used to be.  The lack of feeling in that laugh, was enough to make me look over at him. Really look at him. Past the tan muscled exterior to the shriveling soul underneath. So very similar to my own. It took me really looking at him, to realize that, Finnick Odair, he was just as fucked up as the rest of us, if not a little bit more.

It was a relief to know that I wasn't the only one.

"I don't want to be responsible. For you. For Mags. I know it's selfish, but I don't want your deaths to be my fault, Fin." There it was. The fear that I had been packing with me since the Quarter Quell announcement. I was more scared of that. Of being the one responsible for their deaths, than I was of going back into the arena.