It seemed that everyone had a place after the rebellion's end; Annie had a child to raise, Katniss had District 12 along with Peeta and Haymitch - hell, even Gale left for District 2. Everyone who survived the costly war had found their way in the world; everyone, save for Johanna Mason.
Compared to how it looked before the Quarter Quell, District 7 was in poor condition. This was the first thing that Johanna noted upon boarding the hovercraft back to her home district. For a while, she managed herself just fine, helping rebuild damaged property and keeping herself busy with lumberjack duties.
It was all just a distraction.
As the days crawled by, their difficulty increased tenfold. In District 13, she had received daily visits from a head doctor. He had absolutely no idea what surviving the Games was like, of course, but he was someone to talk to, and Johanna would admit that false reassurances were better than being greeted by silence every day. Now that she was home for the first time in what seemed like forever, there was no one to talk to. Who was she to give up so easily, though? The familiar forests around her would have to make do. She didn't need anyone holding her hand.
That's what she told herself as she continued to bury herself in work, further distracting herself from the gruesomeness that caused her to wake up trembling amidst each night.
That wall of false-confidence did not last long.
There were days where the pattering on the rooftops forbid Johanna from leaving home. On those days, she'd occupy the corners of her bedroom, sitting far away from the windows of the lonely Victor's Village home. There was nobody to comfort her or reassure her that she wasn't back in the Capitol - that she wasn't back her torture cell, about to have another jolt of electricity sent through her body. It was during those days that she became heavily disconcerted.
It was hard, not having a family anymore. Perhaps she could have sought comfort in her parents, siblings, friends, lovers - but, no. They were gone too. They'd all been reduced to ashes years ago. She could've called Finnick, as she had times before the Quarter Quell, but the empty drone of the telephone line just reminded her that he too was gone. He was fucking dead, just like her family and friends. Sure, there was Annie and Katniss, but both of them always seemed busy with their family, and their love, and their warmth. Johanna was happy for them, but she couldn't deny her jealousy.
Everyone who'd survived it all had someone, something, and Johanna had never felt more envious.
So, Johanna Mason, the girl who had won the 71st Hunger Games, rebelled, and survived heaps of torture, was alone.
Until one day.
It was during one of the times that she preferred to avoid work - a day to recharge her mental batteries, per se. The weather was perfect for a walk in the forest, and that was the exact direction she headed. The scent of the trees and the soft lull of nature ambience were perhaps the only positive associations she had left at home. As the last surviving Mason walked along the makeshift trail, however, a shrill whimper cut into the peacefulness.
"Is someone there?" she turned to the source of the noise, slender hand instinctively moving to the hatchet she'd brought along with her.
There was silence, and then the whine persisted; it had a weak, pained sound to it, and hearing it again lead Johanna to believe that it wasn't a someone, but a something. An animal, even. Creeping toward the sound, the dried, dusty leaves beneath her crunched with very step she took. Drawing close to the whining, she found herself facing a dog, its paw ensnared in the metal clamps of a bear trap. When the dog caught sight of her, it began to bark profusely, its voice a mixture of ferocity and cries of agony.
She could've continued walking. It wasn't the first time she'd seen an animal caught in one of those things, after all, but something inside her told her to stop. To help the pained creature. Would helping a dog rid her of the pangs of guilt she felt for every life she'd taken in the Games? Of course not. Her next actions were more impulsive than anything. Running over to the creature, she gripped her shirt, tearing it off of her body and using it to cover the canine's head. The animal still growled at her as she did so, though its tone was that of evident defeat.
"Easy, fleabag. I'm trying to save your ass, even if you don't realize that yet."
Using the sturdiness of her boots to her advantage, she compressed one of the trap's springs, setting its safety latch back. The dog continued to tug at its paw to no avail, its trickling blood painting Johanna's clothing and the earth beneath it. Finally, with enough exerted effort and an exasperated grunt to follow, both sides of the trap were latched neatly, the mechanism popping back open. Johanna hit the ground with a thud, the dog pulling its paw loose.
"Feels better now, huh?" Johanna breathed as she yanked her dirtied shirt from the dog's head. The dog promptly began to lick the blood from its paw. Now that she'd received a chance to look at herself, there was crimson stickiness on her hands, complimented with rust and dirt. She quickly wiped it on her jeans, and wiped away the thought of having to wash herself later on. As she gathered her bearings, brushing the leafy particles from her rear, she looked to where the dog was. Gone - the thing had trotted away without any gratitude to spare.
Figures.
Her shirt, which had previously been sort of clean, had now lost any hint of cleanliness. She tied it around her waste, deciding in that moment that she didn't give two shits if anyone happened to see her walking around in naught more than a bra. Clothes didn't matter too much, after all, and she'd strode around in a lot less clothing, in the past.
Stepping out of the direction she'd detoured in, Johanna made her way back to her trail. Even having grown up near the forests of Seven, they were easy to get lost in, and she had no intentions of spending the rest of her day wandering the forest. She was moving along as before when the another set of footsteps could be heard from behind. When Johanna spun around see what was behind her, eye contact caused the owner of the second pair of footsteps to let out a bark.
"Oh. It's just you," Johanna raised an eyebrow at the creature, "I thought you'd be gone by now."
Upon further examination, the dog was a somewhat large one. Its fur was a marble of different colors, mottled patches of brown, tan, and grey all over. One ear stood up, and the other flopped against its head as it limped toward her. Icy blue eyes fixated on her, tongue lolling out as it panted with exhaustion. It was difficult to tell what breed it was - probably a mutt.
Was there any point in talking to a dog? Of course not. An animal wouldn't have any clue what she said. Still, loneliness had left a damn big dent in her emotional state, so she went about with speaking.
"I hope you're happy," she commented, her voice raising a little in both volume and pitch, "I'm going to have to wash myself off after dealing with you."
A whimper escaped the animal in response, though it continued to walk behind her, picking up its pace to trot by her side. When Johanna stopped, so did it. Her gaze wandered to the dog's paw. Even after being freed from the clamp, it was still badly injured. Johanna sighed, reaching out to give the canine a pat on the head.
"Fine," a roll of eyes followed, and she turned back toward home, "If you insist on following me, I'll get you some medical attention."
Johanna had entered the forest on that day with no company but that of a hatchet. Now, there was a dog following her along the way. She couldn't claim to have expected that, but she supposed it was nice to have something to do with her time. By the time she returned to her home in the Victor's Village, the furry thing had somehow managed to keep up with her.
Stepping up to the porch of he home, she unlocked the door, pausing to glance at the dog. It appeared… dirty. Was she willing to let that into her house, not even having a clue what crawled around on it? Hmm.
She made a motion in the critter's direction, palms splayed toward it, "Stay there. I'll be back."
Swinging the door open, the Mason girl stomped into her house, heading for the bathroom and opening up a cabinet. Medical supplies were something she always kept stocked, lest an emergency take place. Reaching into the cabinet, she pulled out a roll of bandages. Unfortunately, there wasn't any rubbing alcohol, but she could make the best of the liquor she had in the kitchen. Perhaps it wasn't the best way to deal with a wound, but it was still alcohol.
When she returned to the porch, the dog was still there. Sitting. Waiting, with its injured paw held up.
Johanna knelt down next to the animal, taking it in a matter that deviated from her typical harshness and drizzling the alcohol over its wound. It whimpered as she did so, its eyes glancing to the side, the crescent whites of its eyes showing.
"It stings, right?" the woman murmured softly as she prepared the bandage, "you can tough this out. It's nothing, compared to a bear trap."
She wrapped the bandage tightly around the dog's injury, tying and securing it in place. Giving the dog a pat on the head, she stood up, returning inside.
The following night was greeted by more nightmares. The following morning, it was on her porch, resting its head on the floor. It quickly picked its head up when she stepped through the door.
"Really? Did you stay the night?" There Johanna was, talking to a dog again. What a lovely direction she was going in.
Something about the sound of her voice seemed to excite the animal. Whenever she spoke, it seemed to direct all of its attention to her. That was one way dogs and humans were different; nobody ever got so excited around her. Not since before her first games.
The dog appeared as if it hadn't eaten enough; its ribs were showing, and it didn't look to have much meat on it. More evidence to support the creature's lack of maintenance, no doubt.
Making a hand gesture that told the dog to stay in its place, Johanna went back inside and opened up the fridge. What would a dog eat? She was never allowed to have pets growing up, and she had no idea where to get dog food. Then again, her refrigerator was looking a little bit empty.
"Change of plans," Johanna announced as she stomped out of the front door, closing it and locking it behind her, "I'm going to the market."
Since the end of the war, many of District 7's inhabitants had taken to rebuilding the place. The people who survived were keen on giving the area something of a community, and with the fear of Peacekeepers and Snow gone, they succeeded in doing so. Folks traveled to Seven from other Districts, setting up something of a makeshift market and selling all sorts of goods that couldn't have possibly been available before the rebellion. It was nice, to be honest. Things were finally starting to feel lively in her home District.
Johanna was known for helping out with some of it, when she wasn't busy with her battles against post-traumatic stress. Her assistance, as well as the fact that she survived the Games, made her popular with the locals. Even if quite a few of them still looked at her with fearful eyes, it was better than nothing, and she accepted the attention whenever it was given.
As she drew closer to the market area, one of her neighbors stopped her in her tracks.
"I didn't know you had a dog, miss Mason," the middle-aged, slightly plump woman greeted.
Johanna shook her head, "No, I don't…" When she turned around, she was able to confirm that the animal had followed her all the way to the market. "Yeah, I guess I do have a dog. Weird."
The older woman - her name was Bernice, Johanna recalled - reached down to pet the dog. It immediately responded with eagerness, tail-wagging and all.
Bernice smiled a friendly smile, "Well, what's his name?"
"Name? Um." Johanna narrowed her eyes, starting at the dog for a few seconds, "It doesn't have a name. I didn't think that mattered." She'd just found the stinking thing in the wild, after all. Names did nothing but form attachment, and attachment and Johanna Mason didn't blend very well.
"Well, he's got to have a name, doesn't he?"
"I might eventually come up with one, yeah." Johanna replied, impatiently. It seemed that even the friendliest of middle-aged ladies still managed to be intimidated by the Victor, as the woman quickly said her goodbyes and went along with her shopping. Johanna wasn't necessarily trying to terrify people, but… whatever. Clearly, the dog didn't go by that rule.
The topic of names were on her head as she purchased meat from the local butcher. Was she equipped to care for an animal - to name an animal? What if she started to care about it? What was she supposed to do then, huh? She wasn't sure if she was ready to care about something that could so easily run away and return to the wild.
Whatever. What mattered was now, and right now, the dog was hungry. So was Johanna.
"Fine, you win," were Mason's first words upon coming home with a grocery bag full of meat, "You can come inside."
It'd been forever since someone other than herself had entered her home. After the Games, after refusing prostitution, and after returning to a pile of ashes where her family once was, she'd moved to the Victor's Village in fear of being haunted by her past. Said plan wasn't the most effective. Her current house barely felt like home - there was never anybody to come back to, no fond memories associated with the house she'd been 'gifted'.
In fact, this may have been the first time since the house was built that someone other than her entered it.
That someone was an animal.
Bright, blue flames hugged the bottom of the meat-filled pans. She hadn't cooked herself a meal in ages. The dog enthusiastically watched her as she prepared the food. One pan held a ham that she'd decided to treat herself with, the other cooking a much cheaper beef she'd obtained for the dog. The latter was only cooked briefly, as she wasn't sure the drooling canine would give a damn whether or not its meal was well-done.
That was the first time she ate without being alone.
The dog inhaled its breakfast, of course. 'Ate it like it was the most amazing food in the entire universe, licked the container clean, and licked its chops afterward. No hesitation.
After breakfast, Johanna sat on the front steps, dog sitting beside her as if she was a magnet for fleabags.
"I suppose I should stop thinking about you as the dog, huh?" the dark-haired girl murmured as she idly stroked the critter's fur. Perhaps she did need a name for the animal. Not that it was going to stick around, but it'd be easier to refer to her fuzzy, four-legged stalker with some sort of name.
She was silent for a moment, before the word escaped her, "Grizzly."
Perfect. The dog looked nothing like a grizzly bear, of course, but the name suited it's entrapment. Plus, it sounded badass, and that was exactly her intention.
Grizzly seemed to wordlessly agree with her, happily delivering a slobbery kiss to Johanna's arm.
So, just like that, Johanna had unintentionally signed herself up for canine companionship.
It was strange, having a dog with her. Grizzly wasn't overly productive; it didn't talk, didn't help with chores, made messes, tore up furniture, and was an altogether pain in the ass. Grizzly made her put effort into filling dishes with food - and water. The latter task was quite complicated, and it resulted in her shaking quite a bit every time she turned the faucet's handle. Everything related to owning a dog was a huge responsibility. At the same time, though, Grizzly was playful toward her. It loved to play tug-of-war, it was always by her side whenever she left home, it didn't judge her abrasive attitude. She'd gotten to the point where she left blankets on her front porch, just for Grizzly, and after a few weeks, she'd decided to let the animal sleep inside with her.
She wasn't alone.
In contrast to Johanna's negative outlook on most things, Grizzly didn't seem to have a mean bone in its body. It very quickly developed a strong trust in her, showing her its belly and kicking its leg when she scratched the fuzz-covered surface. It patiently waited for her to fill its water bowl.
The best part, however, was when Grizzly was by her side during her worst. When she was haunted by countless nightmares of the children she'd murdered, the death of her parents, the Quell, her torture - when she was plagued by so many awful memories, it was Grizzly who woke her, licking her face and cuddling with her until she calmed down. When it rained heavily and the rooftop was bombarded by an excessive drops of water, Grizzly stayed by her side. The dry, warm creature brought her back to reality, and it reminded that she wasn't being tortured in the Captiol. She wasn't about to receive the next jolt of electricity. No one was coming to hurt her.
When she cried, Grizzly commiserated with her. A dog wouldn't judge her for that. Dogs didn't care about the unimportant crap that people did.
Finally, a single living being that actually liked her.
Time passed - months, even, and Johanna could gradually feel herself becoming less bitter. The sky was hazed with clouds when she wandered out to the forest one day to spend time amongst the trees. Beside her, Grizzly scurried, tail waving from side to side as it moved. Not once had the animal left her since their first meeting in the forest, and she grew very confident that the animal wouldn't leave her. It was a good thing that monster of a man, Snow, wasn't around to see it.
Grizzly had healed well since the day she'd met it. The bear trap wound was annoying to deal with, at first, and she even had to consult an Apothecary when it started looking infected. After the time passed, however, and the antibiotics surprisingly did their job, Grizzly had healed up. The only evidence of a horrible injury was a scar that interrupted its blotchy fur to show some bare scar tissue. Funny, it kind of made the two alike, in a way. Even if Johanna's hair had grown in well enough, there were still some bald spots, thanks to the numerous scars covering her scalp. The couple of them were both a little bit patchy. It made Johanna feel better about her own hair issue.
She had been a little wary of going out when the sky was cloudy, but felt that it wasn't too big of a deal. Sitting around indoors for too long simply felt stuffy. Weather predictions said rain was unlikely, anyhow. Feeling the slightest bit exhausted after walking a while, Johanna stopped and rested the back of her head against a tall pine tree.
"I've got to stop," the young woman grunted at the dog, beckoning for it to sit next to her. It gladly did so, plopping itself on the ground and letting its tongue roll out in a pant. Happily did it accept the pats she gave it.
"What is it about you, huh?" her wide-set brown eyes focused on the canine, "Why do you care so much about me?"
Grizzly tilted its head at her, and its expression looked like something of a smile when it made a comically strange yawn-like vocalization.
Jo rolled her eyes, pulling the animal closer and snuggling with it.
When she stood up moments later, she turned back toward the direction she recalled coming from. She'd been out in the forest for the a while now, and the sky was beginning to darken too much for her liking. Better safe than sorry, she thought to herself as she trekked home.
There was an issue, however - a fault to this plan of hers.
After nearly an hour of walking, she should've been home. She knew Seven's forests like the back of her hand, so why wasn't she? The sky was getting awfully dark, and she could feel a nauseous feeling creeping up deep, deep within her when she realized just what that meant. Clouded skies were in no way a good thing when one's greatest fear involved the liquid that feel from them.
Lost.
Johanna couldn't believe it. Really, truly, she couldn't. If there was any terrain she knew, it was that of her own District's. In fact, the last time she got lost in the place, she must've been little more than a small child. Now, she'd wandered the wrong way. Her pace slowed before eventually coming to a halt, and as if she'd been struck by something, she was frozen.
Drop, drop, drop…
Sporadic little droplets from above. Rain.
The sky is getting darker.
The rain is starting.
Grizzly's trot quickly slowed down to give Johanna a puzzled glance. She wasn't sure if the animal knew of her phobia by now, but judging by the whine the animal gave, it might have been well aware of her trouble. What she was supposed to do now, she had absolutely no idea. No fucking idea. The rain drops that hit her were cold, and they ran down her skin like knives dragging across her. It didn't matter the weather wouldn't physically harm her. As far as she was concerned, she was about to experience downpour of horror.
She had to get home.
Frantically, she flung her head around, eyes hastily searching for some kind of shelter, some kind of landmark that would point her toward her initial path. Nothing. Not a single damned sign. She could feel her stomach drop, anxiety overcoming her. Water. It was building up, starting to pour down even more. It had gotten to the point where she was creeping beneath the trees - the pine trees, they had so little foliage to keep her dry - hoping that they would provide something. Avoiding the rain like acid. She was failing. Failing. Wet. Electrodes. Peeta's screams. Her own screams. Aggressive Peacekeepers. Her mind was doing a fucking amazing job at screwing her over.
Where was she? Was this all an illusion? Was she about to receive another beating? Was that the sound of buzzing, or was that just the rain? She couldn't tell. She didn't know. There were a lot of noises blurring into the scene, everything was blurring, blurring… everything was awful.
A solid, loud noise cut into the high-pitched noises that may very well have been her own voice.
This other sound wasn't her voice, though. What was it? It sounded like a dog. Strange, she couldn't recall there being any of those in the torture cells…
Her eyes snapped open to see a soaking wet dog with blotchy fur and a floppy ear. In the forest. Grizzly. The animal was right there, barking and scampering back and fourth, but only in one single direction, pointing to somewhere, trying to get her move. Move. Of course!
The rain was unbearable as she mustered the courage to follow the animal. Though there was absolutely no solid proof of the canine's reasoning, it seemed that Grizzly was incredibly concerned for her. A lot of effort was made to simply stick with the reality of the situation. Patient was the dog when she stopped to catch her breath, or stopped due to panic.
This went on for a while, and she wasn't exactly sure how long, due to the constant state of perturbation both her mind and body were in. All Johanna knew was that when she caught sight of the landmarks that Grizzly lead her to, she felt a most intense wave of relief. Well, as relieved as one could get when surrounded by a downpour of the element they feared and loathed more than anything.
As soon as she caught sight of the Victor's Village, she dashed for her house as if it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. Grizzly bounded in with her, just making it before she slammed the door shut.
There was no time to fuck around.
Johanna had never grasped a towel - or, five towels - as quickly as she did, drying herself off right away. The horrible twinge she felt was still ever-present, but she'd made her way home, and that was precisely what mattered. She was alive. She wasn't in the Captiol cell. She was okay. Well, probably. She was experiencing the worst of flashbacks, but she was grounded by the furry creature that never left her side. Grizzly was the reason she was home. The dog had memorized its way back, somehow, and realized how much the rain was upsetting her. That fleabag that she'd decided to help escape a bear trap was right there, and it cared so much about her.
A sob erupted from her. It was one that was filled with so many emotions - a mixture of grief, shock, misery, gratitude. It was the sort of emotion she'd die before letting anyone else see. Before letting a living person see. Nobody would ever see a hardened warrior like herself burst into tears. Nobody but a goddamned dog; one that she now clung to, its wet fur tickling her scar-covered face. Did she care about the creature's stench? Not at all.
For the rest of the night, Grizzly sat by her, staying close and keeping her company, serving as the number one reminder of reality.
To any ignorant fuckface who'd never experienced torture and the loss of family, the woman may have looked ridiculous, cuddling up to the animal that was her only source of comfort. It didn't matter. She'd found a real friend. An honorary family member. One who would not leave her, would not run away, wouldn't die or burn or run off to a different District to live out a traditional love story.
Nobody could take this dog away from her.
Johanna Mason had found her place, after everything.
She had a companion.
Hi! This is my first time writing a Hunger Games fanfiction, so please forgive me if there are any errors in characterization. I just felt that Johanna needed someone to become buddies with, considering everyone pretty much ditched her. So, dog.
Thanks for reading this! Have a jamming day.