Things went terribly just about as soon as they had begun. They were filming, turning Finnick and Katniss into a propo reel, and Terra wanted to bite back as scream as guards came crowding into her small living space, demanding she get up and follow as they took Peeta from the comfortable place he had set for himself.

Peeta they dragged, pushed, and Terra scrambled, screamed in her mind as they brought him down to command. Things were going terribly and Finnick was gone, no longer around to soothe her thoughts and worries. Katniss was gone too and the attention of the others had shifted.

They told her it was important that she motivate the soldiers now, that she speak out on the horrors she faced while Katniss fought, to show that they were all fighting the same battle from different angles.

They told her that she had to find a way to convince Annie and Johanna.

They told her they were taking Peeta to the fight, putting him with Katniss and Finnick, that she needn't worry about him anymore because they'll keep her safe.

Things went terribly before she could even understand what was happening and Terra wanted to scream and cry and hide herself away so that no one could see her again, so that no one could force her hand again.

Everyone wanted to use her. Everyone wanted to make her do things she wasn't ready for, and Terra was willing to drown over and over to prevent it from happening again, but her limbs were frozen, stiff, and Annie was whispering reassuring words in her ear and Johanna was ranting, raving, her anger.

Because they came alive together, the pair, they always did -- but they also live for their friends, waking at the threats that claw at them.

"They took Peeta," she breathes, broken and hoarse. "They say they'll protect him but that's a lie."

"Katniss would never let anything happen to him," Johanna swears, violently sure in her conviction.

"You've seen what she's like around him now. He isn't the same and I think she would rather him be dead."

"She loves him, T. In the end, she wouldn't let anything happen to him," Johanna promises.

"No one is safe around here anymore."

"Don't say that," Annie worries, eyes flickering to the door. "Not so loud. They might hear you."

"It doesn't matter in the end. They just want to use the Victors until no one cares anymore. What good are we when everyone out there is fighting a war?"

"Don't be so pessimistic, Jo," Annie scolds. "Finnick always said that we were the first soldiers, the first veterans. We'll always be important."

"The children that survived. The reminders," Terra finishes, lips pressed thin.

"So give them what they want. We can talk a little bit. Tell them what we did," Johanna says, grin feral. "And when it's over we'll tell everyone about how Coin is no better than Snow."

Her eyes water, stinging, and she blinks back tears, taking her friends' hands happily. Because they were right in the end, they were veteran survivors, people that were made to live through to the end. They could beat this and get home. Terra had to believe it was true.

Things went terribly before she could even blink.

She was seated calmly outside. Someone had fashioned a swing for her from a plank of wood and some rope and left her to sit in a patch of sunlight. She fiddled with a flower, rolling the stem between her fingers, and Terra hummed softly, distractedly, as someone gave her instructions snappily because they knew she wasn't paying attention.

Terra was just going to speak about what came to mind, about what she could remember without wanting to claw out her own heart.

They gave the sign that they were rolling but she didn't move just yet, gaze stuck on the flower.

"I use to have a swing like this back home, well, I didn't have one, but it just existed on a hillside by the Combe ranch. I would sit there in the morning and drink tea. It was the most peaceful moment of my day, of my life. I could pretend I was normal, that I was still a child instead of something that crawled out of the arena," she said, touching one of the flower petals delicately. "The mist would be light, blanketing me, and I felt safe in the familiarity of it."

"Terra, why don't you tell us about your time in the Capitol," someone prompted, and she wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"I spent a lot of time in the Capitol. President Snow thought it would be a good idea to have the Victors of District 10 personally deliver the livestock. He had us cut and prep the animals and sell them with a smile--" her brow wrinkles-- "The smile was always the most important part. He wanted us to draw them in, to love us. That's how he fielded clients. They would pay to be considered and in the end, only the ones he liked got to spend time with us in private. I-- it was much like Finnick said it was. I saw the tapes and it wasn't much different, but I-- they sent me gifts or extra food for the district. Snow gave the peacekeepers orders to turn a blind eye more often, to let contraband spread a little more easily the better I was.

"He liked to send me little gifts too. The peacekeepers as well. I was allowed to call my friends in other districts, allowed to write my love letters to Finnick. I was given a lot more priveledges than anyone else."

She breathes shakily and crumbles the flower in her hand, squeezing it tight. "President Snow stole my life from me and thought that trinkets could make up for the life that I didn't have. He ate up my world and my image and my body and my sanity. I-- sometimes I can see the blood on my hands still and I know that I can never wash it away. He forced me to be a murderer and I'll never get that innocence back."

The cameras are moved, pulling in closer to her face, invading her space, and she blinks, biting down her protest. It wasn't like she had much to say anyway. She was done for now. Her thoughts too heavy, and this is what they wanted from her, wasn't it? Emotions and pain bared free for anyone to see. They wanted motivation and experience, memories, and she gave them all that she had.

Terra wanted to cry as they treated her as some sort of show animal.

They viewed us as some sort of tool, some sort of weapon, and it made them no better than Snow. How could they not see how terribly they treated the Victors? The victims of this long war that never ended. We deserved peace and rest. She should have had the option.

A shriek of heavy doors opening sent a jolt down her spine and she spun around, swinging precariously as she balanced lazily. Haymitch was slouched over, eyes bloodshot as though he had gone on another drinking binger -- impossible considering how they had no alcohol for him to pilfer away. No, it was the mark of tears, of heavy bawling that lead to gasping for air and painful heaving.

Staggering, Terra reaches for him, heart in her throat as she waits for him to speak, to say the words that would bring her own sorrow and grief to rush over her in suffocating waves.

He holds a hand out, ready to catch her. "I'm sorry, Terra. Peacekeepers converged on their locations. They were caught in the open fire."

Lungs constricting, heart hammering in her ears, she whispers: "Who?"

Haymitch looks down, bloodshot eyes tearing up. "I'm sorry, T--"

It's all she hears, the world shutting down, knees shaking, collapsing under her. The rough stones bite into her skin, stinging, and she tries to focus on that instead of the sensation of her heart crumbling.

And she can't breathe, she's drowning in tormenting waves of red, choking on iron as she's tossed in an endless sea of torture that is grief that is mourning that is pain.

She shudders to existence, sobs tearing free in tormented screams, wailing her death song that will lock into place the end of her own life -- because she dies with Finnick, her world broken and empty and grey. Terra was nothing without him, a shell.

They left her there long into the night, yelling her grief to the endless sky.

Things were terrible before she could learn to breathe, air stilled and static in her chest. Terra couldn't set her mind passed that point, couldn't remember when she had moved or had something to soother the raw pain in her throat, couldn't remember how she had come to stand in front of President Coin and Plutarch, but she was here, Haymitch's words echoing endlessly through her mind.

She was still dirty. Her reflexion showing the makeup smears and tear stains that rain down her cheeks, dust sullied fingers and wrinkled dress. Terra felt as horrible as she looked, as broken and empty, lost.

Her heart sang a wailing song that twined through her, filling each inch of her being, consuming, and it took all of her not to crumble into grief and pain.

There were others there, she knew, Katniss and Gale. Peeta. But she had loved him to her smallest part from the moment his kindness had pulled her from the depths and weight of her darkest hours.

She didn't know what to do without him. How to exist without his smile and sunshine.

"You just need to be honest with the cameras. It's important that they see you now to show that we aren't going to give up," Plutarch says, prodding, pressing, and she nods numbly, stupidly.

Then there's a camera in her face, a countdown, and she has to bite back tears all over again. They had gotten her on camera the night before, she knew, but she could hardly blame them. Terra was prime target in her pain. It was so easy to target someone's pain, someone's grief. People were always moved at the sight of tears.

Said tears welled in her eyes, burning, and she wondered how much a single person might be able to cry before dehydrating themself.

Her heart constricts, seizing in her chest. She wants to reach through her ribs and tear it out before it could cause her anymore pain.

"Hello, I am Terra Combe, uh, Terra Odair--" her voice breaks, croaking, "I- I want to say that it- it's important... He's gone. Finnick's gone and nothing is ever going to stop Snow from taking the people that we care about. I've seen children pulled from families, husbands and fathers lost and--"

She sobs, dropping her head into her hands, fingers curling to dig her nail into her face. Her chest heaves and it's impossible to get a breath in. Her world is crumbling again.

"You have to make him stop. He has to stop. Someone has to stop him," Terra cries. "I was never the one that you wanted to lead you, Snow had been good at manipulating me, but I don't care what you all might think anymore. I'm going to kill him. I'm going to kill him whether or not I stand alone."

Terra reaches into her dresses, clinging to the necklace. "He was everything to me, my love and heart, and I'm nothing without him, I know. I'm not the Mockingjay but I'll do it for Katniss and Peeta. For Finnick."

°°°

Unedited

2019-10-27