The problem is, Finnick gave in a long time ago. He tried to resist, when he realized that this was part of Snow's design (but for a while, he didn't really understand it, he was just a kid). Resisting hurts people. Resisting means that people who rely on him get hurt, too. It's never been the Games that haunts him; it's been the people who have touched him and the way their hands feel against his naked skin. It's been the way Snow thinks he has the upper hand, tugging at his strings like this is all his design.

Sometimes it still is.

He arches an eyebrow at Johanna Mason, the little girl who sniveled her way through the Games before slamming an axe into anyone who got in her way. It was brutal, but so was his own Games.

There's a slightly lift in the corner of his lips, almost a smile when she says that to him. "Is that so?"