𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑩𝑳𝑨𝑪𝑲 𝑫𝑨𝑯𝑳𝑰𝑨, 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒊𝒓

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑳𝒊𝒆 𝑰𝒏 𝑩𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒆

With a confident nod to the guard, the alarm rang out and the door swung open. And Haymitch Abernathy was left alone with the Black Dahlia. Plastering on his most convincing grin, he strolled casually into the blinding white room with a jaunty step. "Hey, kid." He greeted cheerily, walking into her line of vision. Though she couldn't move her head much, she followed his movements out of the corner of her eye, glaring darkly at the intruder as he paraded about in front of her. "How ya been?"

The question was a ridiculous thing to ask. It almost seemed like he was taunting her, goading her into a response or prodding her to show emotion. She remained silent, just continuing to glower at him as he pulled a chair up to her side.

"Not up for speaking today, huh?" Haymitch continued, exhaling a grunt as he plopped himself into the chair and leaned forward with his hands folded. "You had a lot to say to Finnick earlier." At the mere mention of the boy's name, the Black Dahlia lurched violently in her restraints and growled under her breath. Haymitch flinched back slightly before composing himself and chuckling at the swift change in her behaviour, "Woah! Now we're talking. So you don't like Finnick. Why?"

He didn't expect to get a reply from her, but found that she just kept surprising him in this session. "He's a traitor to the Capitol." She spat venomously with her eyes still narrowed in resentment. "And he's a traitor to me."

"Traitor to the Capitol? Yes." Haymitch admitted truthfully, because that's exactly what the rebels were. They were all traitors to the Capitol, every last one of them. And they were proud of it. "But a traitor to you... No. Never."

"Lies." The Black Dahlia snarled without hesitation, refusing to believe any of the propaganda these rebels tried to feed her. "He used me. Left me behind to die. He abandoned me!"

"No, he didn't." Haymitch argued gently as the girl's chest heaved with raging breaths. Sighing reluctantly, he forced himself to confess the truth, "We did. The Alliance, we-- We promised we'd rescue you if you promised to protect the Mockingjay, but... We left you."

The Black Dahlia's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at this new information. There'd been no mention of an alliance thus far. The Madame had never told her of any of this. Searching for more answers, she questioned, "The Alliance?"

"A group of Victors who pledged themselves to the Mockingjay cause." Haymitch explained cautiously, watching the girl closely for any sign that she had started to remember. "They all agreed to do whatever was necessary to keep Katniss Everdeen alive and in return, those left standing would be extracted with her." The slightest hint of recognition flashed across her face before quickly disappearing. Hoping to prompt more recollection from her, Haymitch continued, "You were the first one to voice your support, the catalyst for everyone else joining the cause. You fought harder for this Rebellion than anyone else."

Shaking her head in denial, the Black Dahlia retorted, "You're lying. I would never betray President Snow in such a way."

"But he would betray you." Haymitch retaliated sharply, making the Black Dahlia recoil in shock. "You lived a nice life until you became a victim of the Games--"

The Black Dahlia, puzzled by the wild accusations, interrupted to exclaim, "I wasn't a victim of the Games."

"--then, like all other Victors, Snow forced you to become a slave to the Capitol." Haymitch carried on as if there hadn't been any disturbances, talking louder to make his voice heard above the Black Dahlia's. "And when you acted out, he punished your family--"

"I have no family!" The Black Dahlia insisted assertively, repeating the lies that the Madame had drilled into her head as facts.

"Yes, you did!" Haymitch declared, desperate to make her remember the people she fought for. Alaric told him how important they were to her, how significant they were in helping to shape who she was. She needed to remember them. "You had a mother and father who cared for you. You had two sisters who saw you as their hero. You even had a mentor who loved you as his own."

Once again, the Black Dahlia denied these claims, "No one can love me."

"Who told you that?" Haymitch asked in frustration, disgusted that anyone would convince someone that they are unlovable.

"The Madame." The Black Dahlia replied, confident that she was not giving away any information that could be used against the Capitol. She only ever knew the woman by that title, never by name or identity.

"And what proof did she have?" Haymitch challenged, waiting for the girl to inevitably realise that the Madame never did show her any proof. And sure enough, the realisation sunk in.

The Black Dahlia never had any reason to doubt what the Madame told her, because the Capitol was all she knew. Why shouldn't she believe the only people she could remember? But now she wondered why there were huge chunks of her life she had no memory of. Why do her memories suddenly begin when she was in the clutches of the Capitol? There were so many things that didn't add up, so many explanations that didn't make sense. She didn't know what to believe anymore.

"They manipulated you." Haymitch stated softly, noticing the minute scrunch of her forehead as she struggled to separate fact from fiction. "Told you what they wanted you to believe so they could use you as a weapon."

"I'm not a weapon, I'm a--" The Black Dahlia cut herself off as she realised what the next words out of her mouth would be.

I'm a monster.

The Madame had always reminded her of that. Drilled it into her head until that was all she believed she was. A heartless monster that no one could love. Was she right all along? Or was that a lie? She just doesn't know anymore.

"You're not what they made you into. You're not the Black Dahlia." Haymitch proclaimed, trying to be as gentle as he could to help her understand. "Your name is Dahlia... Dahlia Blossom."

Dahlia?

Dahlia...

Dahlia.

My name is Dahlia Blossom.

Now that sounded familiar. And it felt right. So for the first time since she was unstrapped from that machine, she was able to tell for herself what was real and what wasn't. Her name is Dahlia Blossom. Real. Her name is the Black Dahlia. Not real. And for once, she felt a sense of pride in herself. Not pain or violence. But something pure and honest. Contentment.

Smiling slightly to himself at the progress they had made, Haymitch slapped his hands on his knees and pushed himself up from the chair. "I'll leave you to think over what we discussed." He announced, edging closer to the door in an attempt to make a quick escape.

"Finnick Odair wasn't the one who left me?" She suddenly called out, halting the man in his tracks. He silently groaned at his foiled attempt but turned to face her nevertheless. Instead of the cold glare he'd become accustomed to during their brief encounter, he found a flicker of hope in her pleading stare. She wanted a different answer to the one she'd been given by the Madame. She wanted an answer that felt more like the right one. She wanted the truth, and she was ready to accept it.

"No, Finnick Odair wasn't the one who left you." Haymitch replied sincerely, willing the girl to believe his words for her sake and for Finnick's. "He's been lost these past months without you by his side. He would never leave you." And the girl nodded in acceptance. She believed him. A relieved grin spread on his lips as he finally bid her farewell, "Goodbye, Dahlia Blossom."

But as he disappeared from the room, he heard a voice call out, "Goodbye, Haymitch Abernathy."

And a smile instinctively lit up his face because... He hadn't told her his name.