The Odairs had been to hell and back in their lives.

They had survived two stints in the Games, blackmail from Snow, many difficult years as mentors, the demise of their closest family members, painful separations from each other, Capitol brainwashing and numerous near-brushes with death during their servitude in the war.

But for all the bad things they had experienced, there were also some positives. They had fallen in love with each other twice, Dahlia had gone from a Blossom to an Odair, they had succeeded in their mission to protect the Mockingjay and now they had freed Panem from the tyrannical rule of their former dictator... Only to realise they had let another dictator take his place.

Coin had already settled herself into the seat of power that was won by the sacrifice of thousands of innocent people whose backs she used like a ladder to claw her way to the top. As Katniss lay unconscious, still recovering from the injuries she received in the two blasts, Dahlia kept a close eye on Coin as her ego swelled to a gargantuan extent with each second she remained in charge. In the downfall of one monster, another had risen from the shadows to carry on the legacy.

There wasn't much for Finnick and Dahlia to do while they waited for Katniss to wake up. The Capitol was flooded with rebels, rounding up civilians and officials alike ready to determine if they were guilt of crimes against Panem. Tensions were high. Everybody seemed to be pointing the finger at somebody else, ratting out friends and family in hopes of saving their skins. Loyalty meant nothing when it was their own precious lives on the line. And it meant that it was safer to not venture too far out of the city's centre.

As they strolled hand in hand along the streets of the Capitol which once filled them with dread, the Odairs relished their time in the fresh air without the fear of activating a pod or escaping from Peacekeepers. They could just enjoy being together, swinging their hands between their bodies like lovesick teenagers as they laughed joyously for all to hear. At that moment, they were the happiest people in all of Panem.

Then they reached the old Tribute Centre and Dahlia brought them to a stop. This was the building where she had been kept in during the first days of her captivity in the Capitol. The building where she had endured the bulk of her torturous brainwashing. The building where she had killed a rebel soldier who tried to attack her. So many nightmares spawned from a simple stone structure, so many memories lost and made inside those walls.

"You alright, Lia?" Finnick asked gently, squeezing his wife's hand to bring her back to him. And as Dahlia turned to him, she realised that she didn't care about all the shit she had been through. She was back with Finnick, her heart. That was all that mattered to her.

"I'm fine." She replied earnestly, finally meaning those words for the first time in years. She was fine because she had Finnick by her side. He always made her feel safe and in control of herself. There was no one else she would rather face the truth of her past with. "There's something I need to show you."

She led him through the corridors that were forever echoing with anguished screams, now cursed to bear those haunting wails for all eternity. The polished white floors glistened beneath their feet, disguising the true horrors that had passed through beneath its immaculately scrubbed surface. Even the doors seemed to strain agonisingly as they were pushed open, groaning and crying out for relief from all the suffering it had kept locked inside each room.

Finnick held her hand securely the whole time, ready to comfort and whisk her away if things became too much. But as Dahlia took in the space that had once been her jailhouse, she didn't feel anything. What once sparked fear and obedience, now only prompted indifference. She didn't care about this place, not anymore.

She showed Finnick the mechanical monster that had been the cause of their pain and loss, watching him glare at the machine as though he could somehow induce its destruction with his mind.

She showed him the room where she had yelled out for him, willing herself to remember his name and the love she experienced in his arms. The room where he was heartlessly ripped from her mind.

She even showed him the lab where she had fought against the rebel squad sent to rescue her. Though the evidence from their scuffle had long since been covered up, Dahlia could still see the minuscule tinges of red staining the crevices of the floor from the blood she had spilled. She walked away from that spot without dwelling on her guilt. Everything that had happened was in the past. She needed to look to the future now.

They continued on through the building, Dahlia determined to push on and overcome the bad memories plaguing her thoughts. She was confronting her fear head on with Finnick by her side. Because, with him, she felt indestructible.

Together, they breezed past Snow's other torture chambers and the glass cells which had once housed the captive Victors, Finnick emerging from those corridors with a much clearer understanding of the trauma they all went through. It was like walking through a living museum of their experiences, everything remaining just as it had been when they were liberated. Right down to the scratch marks in the wall and the patches of dried blood smeared on the glass. An invisible war had been fought in those rooms, one that would now be exposed. But first, Dahlia had to complete her last step to full rehabilitation.

Her original cell, the one she'd been forced into when she was first taken from the arena, had two rebel soldiers stationed outside its thick doors. And Dahlia knew exactly who was inside.

"Let me see her." She firmly commanded the two guards, who glanced at each other hesitantly as the formidable woman glared up at them. After a few moments of silence where the guards internally argued about what to do, Dahlia became irritated with being left waiting and hissed out, "Now."

The soldiers scrambled to appease her demands as Finnick stared at the comical scene in amusement. He didn't know how anyone could be so terrified of his little flower, but god did he love it when she put people in their place.

As one guard shakily unlocked the door for them and the other conveniently avoided all eye contact with the pair, Dahlia squeezed Finnick's hand in anticipation for what they were about to confront. Tackling the building had been easy. After all, it was just a building. But now she was preparing to take on the very woman who struck utter fear into her heart.

Behind those steel doors resided the Madame of Pain, the subject of all of Dahlia's nightmares and the source of her suffering. The Devil's right-hand woman.

Sensing the nerves bubbling up inside his wife, Finnick squeezed Dahlia's hand three times in support and reminded her that she wasn't reliving with this trauma alone. He was with her every step of the way, as he had been ever since she slipped through the Madame's talons. Just like they would be facing the uncertainty of the future and every hurdle in life, they would deal with this together. And they would show no fear.

The door was swung open for them and Dahlia nodded confidently to her husband. She refused to reveal her true terror to the Madame. She refused to give her any hint of satisfaction. She refused to let that vile woman know that she'd had any lasting effect upon her.

With a deep breath, she exhaled her nerves and inhaled stoicism. The Madame would get nothing from her. And they stepped inside with unwavering determination.

The cell was just as dark as Dahlia remembered it, the only light available flooding in from the corridor through the open door. Through the illuminated shadows, the scratches on the wall were visible and highlighted the tally marks she'd once used to count how long she'd been there. It was a pathetic attempt to keep herself sane through the endless hours spent in darkness. A way of convincing herself that an end was in sight.

But as Dahlia's eyes trailed along the marked walls, they eventually landed on the figure she'd been dreading to see. She was sitting in the corner, shrouded in shadows as a smirk danced across her lips. Her eyes gleamed like a cat stalking its prey through the night, two beams of torchlight shining in delight. Her plaything had returned. The Madame was ready to bear her claws and unravel Dahlia's mind like a ball of wool.

"Well, well. What a nice surprise. " She hummed smugly, quirking a brow in interest as the Odairs stared at her from across the room. "You're late, girl... But I knew you'd find your way back to me." Dahlia remained silent, her stern expression never betraying the true panic she felt as the Madame's gaze burned into her skull before flickering over to Finnick. "And I see you've brought a guest. How nice."

The malice in the woman's voice was blatantly obvious as she eyed the couple's intertwined hands in disgust. But Dahlia wasn't going to allow the Madame to get the upper hand. Not anymore.

"This is my husband." She declared proudly, tightening her grip on Finnick's hand as she smiled up at him. "The man who helped undo weeks of your hard work in just a few conversations." The Madame's satisfied grin faded as Finnick's grew and Dahlia landed a final taunting blow to her ego, "That must sting."

A snarl curled on the Madame's lips at the reminder that her project had been ruined by a pair of lovebirds who couldn't cope with being apart. Spurred on by her intense hatred, she growled out, "Love makes you weak."

"Yet we're not the ones locked in a prison cell." Dahlia instantly quipped back, making Finnick snicker in amusement just to humiliate the woman even more. "You're not in control anymore."

"And you think you are?" The Madame retaliated with a mocking scoff, trying to desperately cling on to her dominance over Dahlia. "They will never trust you. And once they've used you to get what they want, they'll cast you aside just like before. You will never be in control."

If the Madame was trying to strike a nerve in Dahlia, she was not going to succeed. The younger woman sharply shut her down with a retort, "I don't care about control. I don't care about trust. All I want is to be with the one I love. The one that you nearly took from me."

"What a dreadfully boring life for someone of your abilities." The Madame mumbled in disappointment, saddened by the idea of living in a world where the Black Dahlia no longer tormented the streets of Panem. "We're cut from the same cloth, you and I. We thrive in violence and feed on chaos. You will never be able to live without a sword in your hand."

"You don't know anything about me." Dahlia snapped, feeling her eyes sting with the tears she was never allowed to shed during her captivity. "I am nothing like you. My loyalties lie with the Mockingjay and my family. I serve no one but myself. And my name has never been the Black Dahlia. So get it through your thick Capitol skulls that I am Dahlia fucking Odair and I am no monster!" With each word, she slipped away from Finnick's protective hold and moved one step closer until she stood in front of the woman who had almost destroyed her identity. Looking down her nose at the Madame like she was worth little more than the dirt on her boot, Dahlia held all the power. Lowering her voice into a sinister whisper, she vowed, "Once we kill your beloved President, I will never think of you again. You will merely become a worthless, insignificant face in my past. But you... You will remember my face every day of your life and resent me, just as I once resented you. Because I am the only one who knows you and I will never tell a soul. I will ensure that no one ever knows your name. I will ensure that your reputation fades into obscurity. And I promise that you will never be recognised for all the pain you have caused. Because, after all, history is written by the Victors and you are no Victor. You've lost."

The Madame's weakness was her fear of becoming a failure, and Dahlia knew exactly how to prey on it. She craved acknowledgement of her work, feeding off of the praise she received and feeling a twisted form of pleasure whenever she succeeded in breaking someone down. But take all that away and what was she left with? Nothing... That's what Dahlia was doing. She was leaving the Madame with nothing.

The panic-stricken woman found herself rendered speechless by the ferocity of a girl she once thought she controlled, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled for something to say. But she realised, she wasn't the one in control anymore. She never was. Because Dahlia would never truly break. All the pain and tragedy only made her stronger. A true warrior with both a fighting mind and a loving heart. The perfect companion of a Mockingjay.

Satisfied by the Madame's lack of response, Dahlia retreated back to where Finnick waited for her with a proud smirk. But the Madame finally managed to find her voice and desperately spat out, "You can't destroy a monster like Snow without becoming one yourself."

It was her last chance to hurt Dahlia in any way and the attempt was a feeble one at best. Because Dahlia's face remained impassive, showing no sign that the warning had affected her at all. Why would they have any impact on her self-image when Finnick was gazing at her like the sun admired the moon? If he could love her that much, there was no way she could ever be a monster.

"Watch me." She declared confidently, destroying the Madame's authority with just the power of her words. In the game of wits, no one was a better player than Dahlia. She would always be the Victor. Therefore, she would be the one writing history.

Now well and truly defeated, the Madame's eyes fell submissively to the cold floor beneath her as she asked, "When can I expect my execution?"

Dahlia scoffed bitterly at the woman, whose stare immediately darted up to meet the icy gaze of the Odairs. "Death is too good for you. Too kind, too easy." Dahlia stated sharply, regarding her former tormentor with such hatred and disgust that if looks could kill, there would be no hope of survival for the Madame. "Your punishment won't be to die... It'll be to live with your memories, to live with your failures forever. And remember every single day, that you were destroyed by the monster you created."

Then, from the confines of her pocket, Dahlia revealed a small black blade. And for the first time in her life, the Madame trembled in fear. Because she knew...

But Dahlia relished in her triumph as a carved bloody smile stared up at her. Because the Madame shouldn't have barked, if she couldn't fucking bite.