Finnick | Pockets full of stones.
Feb. 1st, 2014 11:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
themadgirlTwo more days. In the grand scheme of things, with over half a year lost, it shouldn't have been any time at all. Nothing more than a blip. 48 hours and she'd be on her way, free forever from the sickly-sweet facade of the Capitol, salty sea breezes rising up to meet her.
They'd wanted her stay. No, she'd quietly insisted, head swimming from the scent of smoke and ash, arms reflexively crossed over her abdomen.
The doctors here are better equipped, they'd said.
No, she'd repeated.
The hospital in 4 was destroyed—
NO.
But you must think of the baby, now, think of the baby, think of the BABY—
NO! She'd screamed it until she was hoarse, until they booked her a seat on the next transport south and pressed the ticket into her shaking hand.
Two days she had to wait. It was just two more days, two more sleeps if she slept at all. When she startled awake in the night, heart hammering in her ears and skin slick with sweat, she couldn't tell whether she hadn't been screaming at all or if there simply wasn't anyone left to care.
Two days, Annie told herself again as she sucked in a shuddering breath and threw back the blanket, the night air painting in whispers over her sticky skin. "Two days," she murmured to the pale rise of her belly, and pushed herself slowly to her bare feet. The clock by the bed blinked 1:16 AM.
"Shh, now," she said as she scuffed across the floor, hands rubbing rhythmically over her abdomen. "We can't go anywhere tonight, no matter how much you kick me." They'd have a bath, she thought. She could use the lavender bubbles, they didn't smell as synthetic as the others.
Only, when she lifted her head, Annie wasn't standing in the stark whiteness of a Capitol bathroom, but rather at the edge of a vast space that arched golden and echoing above her. A screech escaped her throat, sharp and terrified, before she slapped both hands over her mouth and scuttled backwards. When she hit the wall behind her and bounced the back of her head off the wooden paneling, she hardly registered the pain.
They'd wanted her stay. No, she'd quietly insisted, head swimming from the scent of smoke and ash, arms reflexively crossed over her abdomen.
The doctors here are better equipped, they'd said.
No, she'd repeated.
The hospital in 4 was destroyed—
NO.
But you must think of the baby, now, think of the baby, think of the BABY—
NO! She'd screamed it until she was hoarse, until they booked her a seat on the next transport south and pressed the ticket into her shaking hand.
Two days she had to wait. It was just two more days, two more sleeps if she slept at all. When she startled awake in the night, heart hammering in her ears and skin slick with sweat, she couldn't tell whether she hadn't been screaming at all or if there simply wasn't anyone left to care.
Two days, Annie told herself again as she sucked in a shuddering breath and threw back the blanket, the night air painting in whispers over her sticky skin. "Two days," she murmured to the pale rise of her belly, and pushed herself slowly to her bare feet. The clock by the bed blinked 1:16 AM.
"Shh, now," she said as she scuffed across the floor, hands rubbing rhythmically over her abdomen. "We can't go anywhere tonight, no matter how much you kick me." They'd have a bath, she thought. She could use the lavender bubbles, they didn't smell as synthetic as the others.
Only, when she lifted her head, Annie wasn't standing in the stark whiteness of a Capitol bathroom, but rather at the edge of a vast space that arched golden and echoing above her. A screech escaped her throat, sharp and terrified, before she slapped both hands over her mouth and scuttled backwards. When she hit the wall behind her and bounced the back of her head off the wooden paneling, she hardly registered the pain.