Katniss and Finnick were experiencing the worst form of torture the Capitol could've possibly subjected them to... Waiting.
There had been no news from the rescue team, no word of communication or indication of their survival. Everyone seemed to be expecting the worst, especially the two Victors left pondering if their loved ones were even still alive. The future of the Revolution was hinged on this moment. Would it be success for the rebels or another victory for the Capitol?
Finnick could've driven himself to madness just sitting there waiting, wondering. He'd nearly rubbed his fingers raw from mindlessly tying and untying the blue rope in such an aggressive manner. When he eventually snapped back to reality, he found that he had unknowingly weaved it into a hangman's noose. The only knot Dahlia was ever able to learn. Even his unconscious mind could only focus on her safety. Saddened by the realisation, he tossed the rope to one side and threw his head back in despair.
He hated this. He hated not knowing. His hands shook anxiously without something to keep them occupied, which led him to clench them into tight fists. He just wanted, needed, her there with him. Needed her to hold his hand, needed her to distract from the torment of his own mind, needed her to rescue him from his sorrow.
Just as he was beginning to spiral into his dark thoughts, a hand reached over and settled comfortingly on top of his. Katniss. Neither said anything to the other, they didn't have to. They both knew what each other wanted to hear, but didn't try to fool themselves with false words of hope. They were kindred spirits suffering the same pain of uncertainty. Fake optimism would be a temporary balm for a much deeper wound. Instead, they sat in silence and waited. Together.
Finally their endurance paid off as the door was thrust open with little regard and Haymitch's head popped through the gap. "They're back." He announced to the restless pair, who immediately sprung to their feet and rushed after the man.
Bursting through the doors to the medical ward, Katniss and Finnick sprinted forward with frantic eyes. Their heads whipped back and forth in desperation, searching for any sign of their loved ones in the chaos of the room. Katniss jogged towards the sound of clattering medical equipment while Finnick lingered behind her apprehensively. The source of the commotion was soon clear as the pale form of a familiar woman was revealed to the pair.
"Johanna." Katniss gasped out in shock, eyes widening at the state the fierce girl was in. Her vibrant hair was gone, shaved right down to the scalp where her skin was thin and pallid. Her once strong body had withered away, replaced by willowy arms and a slender build. She was an unrecognisable sight. But at least her spirit was still there.
"Finnick!" Annie cried out in relief, making both Katniss and Finnick turn in the direction of her screams. "Finnick!" She hastily ripped off the medical equipment monitoring her health and leaped from the stretcher.
"Annie?" Finnick questioned as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing with his own eyes. But as the redhead hurtled towards him, the realisation finally sunk in. The girl he'd come to view as a sister was safe, she was here. That must mean that Dahlia was there too. "Annie!"
As the girl launched herself at him, Finnick wrapped her up in a protective brotherly hold and hugged her tightly to his chest. Annie clung to him with shaking arms, her whole body trembling in his grasp as she sobbed. "It's alright. You're here, you're safe." Finnick muttered repeatedly, gently reassuring his sister that nothing bad would happen to her anymore. Once she had begun to calm down and was in better condition to talk, Finnick pulled away to ask the question he'd been yearning to say, "Where is she, Annie? Where's Lia?"
But Annie's body went rigid. Her eyes widened in alarm and she shook her head hurriedly, fingers gripping to Finnick's arms as he stared at her with hope in his gaze. "Finnick..." She started unsteadily, glancing down at the floor as she trailed off in despair.
"What is it? What's happened?" Finnick asked in a panic, his mind immediately jumping to the worst case scenario. "Annie, where is she? Did they leave her behind? Is she still in the Capitol?"
Annie was quick to quell his racing thoughts, "No... No, she's here."
"Then what's wrong?" Finnick questioned, refusing to relax until he has Dahlia in his arms once more. "Is she hurt?"
"She's..." Annie sighed as she tried to find the right way to explain the situation. "She's changed, Finnick. She's not who she used to be."
"But where is she, Annie?" Finnick asked again, too distracted by his need to see Dahlia again to listen closely to Annie's warning. The girl knew now that he needed to see it to believe it. Though it wouldn't be easy, he had to know what had become of her.
Exhaling in sorrow, Annie reluctantly pointed Finnick towards a door at the very back of the infirmary. His face beamed with a golden smile and he placed a grateful kiss on Annie's cheek before bounding off. The grin remained on his lips as he eagerly ventured further into the medical ward, not realising that heartache and pain lay beyond the door he had set his sights on. All that stood between him and his love now was a few inches of steel.
Pushing the door open, Finnick was confused to find himself in an observation room with one-way glass separating a team of medics from their dangerous subject. The scientists and doctors looked up briefly at his arrival but none said anything. They had been told that he would come. They just parted like the waves of the sea, letting the boy walk towards the window and peer inside. The smile disappeared from his face.
There she was. Not Lia. Not his little flower... But the Black Dahlia. Cold, dark and deadly.
She was tied down in a metal chair, arms and legs shackled by thick cords. Even her head was restrained, held in place by large leather straps wrapping around her mouth and jaw to prevent her from lashing out. She wasn't moving, her body stiff like a wooden puppet waiting for someone to pull the strings. The only sign that she was actually alive was her eyes. She stared straight ahead, glaring at the reflection as though she could see through the glass.
But as Finnick gazed into her eyes, he didn't see any hint of life behind them. There was no trace of the girl he'd once known, the girl who had once loved him. Now there was nothing but darkness and hatred. What had they done to her?
The door behind him opened, but Finnick did not look away from the girl who'd occupied his mind every moment they spent apart. Boggs stepped up next to the anguished man, joining him in staring at the Capitol's savage pet. He waited for Finnick to speak first, sensing the anger building up inside him and letting his mind absorb the new information before risking conversation.
Eventually, Finnick broke the silence by furiously spitting out, "Why have you chained her up like some rabid animal?"
"She attacked our team. Stalked us through the darkness and struck us when the time was right." Boggs explained calmly, folding his arms behind his back as he eyed the Black Dahlia with sympathy.
Finnick turned to face Boggs and began his fierce defence of the girl, "She's been in the Capitol for months. She wasn't in the right mind. She-- She was probably scared and confused. That's no reason to treat her like this."
"Finnick." Boggs interrupted quietly, remaining composed despite the boy's understandable frustration. "She killed one of our men."
Physically recoiling at that admittance, tears pricked Finnick's eyes as he shook his head in disbelief. "No... She wouldn't-- She wouldn't do that. Not without reason-- He must've provoked her." He stuttered, desperately trying to excuse her actions and prove that his Dahlia was still in there.
"That doesn't explain why every member of my team needed medical attention after the one who provoked her was dead." Boggs retorted, glancing at Finnick to find that the boy was still refusing to believe what he was hearing. "Finnick, she is responsible for dozens of assassinations throughout the districts. Rebel leaders, soldiers, supporters... Anyone who could become a threat to the Capitol, eliminated before they could even put up a fight. Snow was the judge and the jury, the Black Dahlia was his executioner." Boggs watched as Finnick's face contorts in confusion and denial, but even he couldn't refute it much longer. "That girl sitting in there is not Dahlia Blossom. It's Snow's ultimate weapon. And he wouldn't just let us take her that easily. She would kill all of us if she got the chance. Including you."
Suddenly, a commotion in the main area of the infirmary drew Boggs and the medical staff out of the room in a hurry, leaving Finnick alone to face the broken sight of a girl he once knew better than ever. Now it felt like he didn't know her at all.
As if sensing the chaos Peeta was causing amongst the rebels, a malicious smirk curved onto the Black Dahlia's face, concealed by the straps keeping her head in place. The madness had begun and the Capitol would emerge victorious. They had unleashed their mutts into the heart of the Rebellion and now they would wreak havoc.
Then her eyes seemed to focus on the glass, staring at the exact spot where Finnick was standing alone. He felt like she was looking right at him. But it should've been impossible to see through to the other side from where she was sitting. Nevertheless, a cold chill ran down his spine as she refused to look away.
Until a rumbling laugh bubbled inside her chest, travelling up through her body until it escaped from her mouth like lava spilling from a volcano. She cackled madly to herself, tugging against her restraints in a wild manner. She truly seemed to be a wild beast locked in a cage and Finnick found himself backing away before she could terrorise him any longer.
Her worst fear had come true. Snow had turned her into the thing she had fought so hard to resist. He had turned her into a monster.
•——————•°•✿•°•——————•
As soon as Katniss had regained consciousness and started to recover from Peeta's savage attack, Plutarch gathered everyone of relevance to the situation into her hospital room to explain. This included her family, Haymitch, Beetee and Finnick.
With a sigh of reluctance as he dragged a hand down his face, the former Gamemaker forced himself to speak, "It's called hijacking." Haymitch paced back and forth restlessly while Finnick hung his head in despair. He didn't think he could get worse after reuniting with Dahlia, but now he truly wished they were both dead. "We don't know how long the Capitol's been doing this to Peeta."
"It's fear conditioning." Beetee elaborated, glancing sympathetically at Finnick who was still waiting impatiently for his own explanation on Dahlia. "Enhanced with tracker jacker venom. You were stung your first Games. Remember?" Katniss could only manage a subtle nod and a flicker of her eyelids in reply due to the brace around her neck. "The venom puts the subject in a dissociative state. And they... torture him. With shocks and beatings, and strip down his identity. And then all of that suffering and fear is redirected. Associated with other memories or a person."
Primrose, who sat diligently by Katniss' side, quietly and sadly questioned, "They can change his memories of Katniss?"
"To make her seem life-threatening." Beetee confirmed with a mournful nod.
"They turned him into a weapon, Katniss." Haymitch added gently on as the girl's eyes well up with tears. "To kill you."
"But you can reverse it?" Primrose asked in determination, not willing to give up on the kind boy and the love he had once shown for her sister.
Beetee avoided eye contact as he responded, "The fear is the most difficult thing to overcome. We're hardwired to remember fear best."
"It's new terrain." Plutarch interrupted, remaining the hopeful voice of reason among the group. "But we've put together a team. I'm optimistic."
Silence followed his words, everyone fearing that Plutarch's optimism wouldn't be enough to bring Peeta back. But Finnick's mind was occupied with a different person. "Is that what they did to my Lia?" He asked, seething with anger at the memory of Dahlia's crazed eyes. "Hijack her mind?"
Plutarch and Beetee exchanged wary glances, before the Capitol man nodded for the former Victor to explain. "Not quite." The genius man clarified, pushing his glasses along his nose as Finnick's head snapped up attentively. "In Dahlia's case, they didn't want someone who felt fear. In fact, they wanted someone who didn't feel anything at all."
"What are you saying, Beetee?" Finnick questioned, his fists clenching as his temper rose.
"I'm saying that they have somehow repressed her emotions..." Beetee trailed off for a moment, clearly uncomfortable with admitting the full truth to Finnick. "And her memories."
"You mean, she doesn't remember anything?" Finnick asked in shock, becoming saddened by the mere thought of it. "She doesn't remember me?"
"She remembers only what the Capitol wanted her to remember." Beetee corrected meekly. "So she doesn't remember that she was once a victim of the Games, she doesn't remember her family, she doesn't remember joining the Alliance... But she does remember that she was left behind to die, she does remember that she was betrayed and she remembers that Finnick Odair was the reason behind it."
Finnick shook his head and argued, "But I didn't--"
"I know, Finnick. We all know you would never betray her." Beetee assured him, halting his sentence by raising a hand to stop him. "But she doesn't. All she knows is what they've told her."
"But this is good news, Finnick." Plutarch chirped in, shrinking back slightly as Finnick glared at his choice of words. "What I meant is, we may be able to reverse the brainwashing in her mind easier than Peeta's. We just need to remind her of what's real and what's not. We just need to remind her of the truth."
And as President Coin addressed District Thirteen with a rousing speech about freedom and liberation, Finnick Odair was standing in the empty observation room adjoined to the Black Dahlia's cell. Staring at the murderous shell of the woman he loved, he made a promise to himself and to her. He would get her back. He didn't care how long it took, she had never stopped fighting for him and now he would do the same for her. He would deny the stars, the fates, the laws of the universe that said the woman he loved is lost. He would get his little flower back. He would never stop waiting for her...