Always: A Hunger Games Fanfiction

Chapter 144

Katniss

When he walks through the front door to our house, trailing timidly behind his mother, I'm instantly transported to another world, another time, another life it seems. When I see him, with his sea green eyes, tanned skin, and golden blond hair, I cannot rid my mind of the images of his father that have been forever implanted deep within my memories. It's as if I'm dreaming; reliving Finnick's life inside my own head, exactly the way I had as I watched him being ripped to shreds by blood thirsty lizards just feet below me. I can still feel how damp my clothes were from the water and sludge in those sewers. I can still hear the sound of the mutts screeching, hunting us down, killing us. Killing him. I imagine us fighting off those monkeys, or the way his face was scrunched up in pain as he watched Mags slip from his grasp and into the deadly fog. Or how we had sprinted through the jungle side by side, attempting to run away from the screaming Jabberjays, only to find ourselves trapped, tortured and taunted by our screaming loved ones for what seemed like hours on end. Things like that never really leave you.

I know that this boy, this young man, in front of me is not Finnick. He will never be Finnick. Finnick is gone and I know that. But everything about Finn reminds me of his father. Everything down to the freckles scattered across his nose like twinkling stars in the night sky. I almost wonder how Annie does it. How she wakes up every day  to care for her child, Finnick's child, when he looks exactly like him. I almost wonder how she has the strength to face him every day. But really, when I truly think about it, I know exactly how she does it. Finn is the only part of Finnick that Annie has left. While he's here, Finnick will always live on. I know that. I've experienced that in my own daughter, who as she ages, resembles Prim more and more every day. It isn't obvious, in fact I think she looks most like Peeta, though he claims she looks just like me. But every once in a while, when I look at her a little too long or her blue eyes sparkle just right, I see Prim. And it hurts. Because although she reminds me of Prim, she will never be Prim, just like Finn will never be his father. But those few moments I get to see my sister in her are enough to make me fall into an even deeper state of love for Willow, something I never even imagined possible. 

"Katniss!" Annie exclaims, breaking me out of my train of thought. She pulls me into a tight embrace and I don't think twice about doing the same in return. Annie pulls away and gingerly puts her hand on Finn's shoulder. "Finn, this is your Aunt Katniss and Uncle Peeta. It's been a while since you've seen them, do you remember them?" He nods and averts his eyes towards the window. She ruffles her hand through his wavy blond locks and Peeta helps Annie bring their things upstairs to our guest bedroom, leaving Finn and I standing here alone. 

I clear my throat, "How are you, Finn?" I ask. He shrugs and takes a deep breath, avoiding my eyes. I know he's uncomfortable here. I can't help but wonder what Annie has told him about Peeta and I. Or what she's told him about what happened to his father. "Can I get you anyth-"

"Can you please tell me about my dad?" he blurts out, tears in his eyes. I open my mouth to speak, but I can't seem to form the words. 

"I don't. . ."

"Nevermind, I shouldn't have asked. Just. . .forget I said anything," he says, turning away from me to brush away a stray tear from his cheek. 

"Finn. . ." I whisper, but he's already gone, bounding up the stairs to hide away from me. I bite the inside of my cheek, guilt taking over my body. I assume that Annie hasn't told him much, but enough to make him curious. I wonder if he's asked her questions. Questions she may not have been able to answer. I'm sure that's why he's come to me, but how can I answer his questions any better? I don't want to scare him. I don't want to put an image in his head of who I used to be, or who Finnick used to be. I want to help him, I truly do, but if I can hardly manage to think about Finnick for too long, how could I explain what happened to him to his own child?