Finnick had been out fishing that morning - he'd left Annie resting and safe and had decided to go relax himself. And anyway, they both enjoyed the fish he caught, it felt a little bit like home. And that was comforting, in such a strange place. Finnick liked it here. It wasn't perfect, by far, but Annie was safe, and there wasn't a Capitol here. And there wasn't a war, and he wouldn't be dying in a few days, leaving Annie alone. He shuddered at the thought - of all things that terrified him about dying, the worst was definitely leaving Annie alone.
But that wasn't going to happen here, and as long as they remained here, he had a feeling that no matter how bad things got, they'd be better than they were back home.
It was around noon when he headed back to their apartment with a bucket full of fish. He wasn't even in the apartment yet when he knew something was wrong. He could hear...dear god, she was screaming.
He pushed the door open and dropped the bucket of fish where he stood before dashing to the sound of the screams, and falling to his knees beside the bed, peering under it.
"Annie! Annie, it's Finnick. Annie, sweetheart, listen to my voice, okay? I love you."