1. Johanna only tries to kill herself once.
It's after the Capitol announces that Finnick and Katniss and Peeta – they're all dead. She doesn't really understand, and if she'd been thinking straight, she would have waited out the night before taking action. But she wasn't thinking. She was reacting.
She's rooting around through a drawer in the hospital, looking for something that could do the job, and she has the syringe, and she's preparing to stick herself in the arm when somebody grabs her shoulders and shakes her so violently that she drops the needle.
It's Annie Odair.
Annie.
Johanna had assumed Annie would be somewhere in an inconsolable heap, sobbing, weeping. Or that maybe she'd even had the same idea as Johanna and had beaten her to the punch. Instead, she's here, silent as a mouse, with her desperate wild eyes, shaking Johanna like the madwoman she is.
"Stop it," Johanna spits after she overcomes the shock of it. Annie's arms drop to her sides and she quivers like some small insect. Raises a hand to cover her mouth as if she's said something offensive.
"Sorry," she says, sounding truly apologetic. She bends over to pick the syringe up, then makes as if she's going to hand it Johanna for a second, then has a change of heart and flings it across the room. Johanna scoffs. Like a few yards of distance would stop her.
"Why?" Annie asks. Johanna considers lying, saying that it was only morphling, but she doesn't know how long Annie's been watching her. She thinks Annie can tell anyway. She thinks Annie knows more than most people give her credit for.
"Katniss, Finnick," she says, looking towards the syringe. "They were the only friends that I had. I don't even know if they thought of me as their friend—"
"Finnick does," Annie says without hesitation. Present tense. Johanna shakes her head.
"But they were the last thing I had. I don't have anything anymore. I don't have…" But she's not sure what she doesn't have. The strength. The will. The reason. Maybe she doesn't have any of it.
"Well, now you have me," Annie says as she pulls the smaller woman into a hug. Johanna doesn't react. She can't. She knows Annie meant it as a reassurance, an offering of peace – of friendship, even. But Johanna can't see it that way.
All she can see is that this woman who was Finnick's life – his strength, his will, his reason to live – is all that's left of him now. And it is Johanna's duty, her unbearable burden, to see that nothing happens to her.
2. Annie only tries to kill herself once.
Johanna understands. She really, truly does. They've had a terrible day. First Finnick and the others were dead. Then they were not. Then the war is over and they're being carted to the Capitol, which is now under rebel control. They both know there's something that nobody wants to tell them.
Finnick is dead. Gone. Absolutely and certainly. There's no denying it anymore.
Johanna walks around in a daze, briefly encountering people she knows – Peeta has also made it, and she very nearly hugs him when she runs into him in the hallways of President Snow's house, but she doesn't. Finally (after too long, it's taken her too long) she returns to Annie's room. The door is locked. Breaking it down is cathartic – the delicate and finely crafted wooden door is thin and inlaid through and through with glass, crystal, gold. Nothing that pretty has a place in this brave new world.
Inside, Annie is hanging. But the noose she's constructed for herself is so poorly crafted that even though she is hanging, she's not dead or even unconscious. She's also not struggling. Johanna pulls her down angrily and yells. Annie does nothing.
Johanna hits her. Only once, for scaring her, for trying to die. For wanting to leave her alone after she promised now you have meand saved her life.
Johanna never stops apologizing and Annie never stops forgiving her, but it's a cruel cycle. Every time Annie accepts her apology and tells her that she's forgiven, she only feels more guilt. It's one of the reasons they never get closer than they do.
3. Both of their suicide attempts stop after Annie finds out she's pregnant.
Annie seems to think of it as a miracle, some grand opportunity that gives her hope for a bright future.
Johanna sees it as a travesty. She panics.
Annie doesn't understand why. She's so good and pure that she doesn't see how much of a struggle motherhood will be for her. Johanna feels the need to protect her, but she also pities her. Despises her, even. Nobody should be this optimistic. Not after what they've been through.
"This is my fault," Johanna says one day. Annie blinks in surprise. "If I had passed that stupid exam, I could've gone with them to the Capitol. I would have died and he'd be here. If I could have just…" she says, grasping for the words. Annie just watches her with an unreadable expression. "If I could just swim, he'd be here. And this baby would have a familyinstead of just a mother who can't even—"
She doesn't finish her sentence. For Annie's sake. But they both know how it ends.
"If I could swim," she reiterates. But she can't. She'll never be able to again, she thinks. She still can't even step in the shower.
"Johanna," Annie says, staring at her intently, but not with anger or hurt, "I can swim."
4. Johanna overhears her talking to Katniss one day while they're visiting 12.
They come on the pretense of delivering presents from Mrs. Everdeen, who lives nearby them in 4. Really, they've come to announce Annie's pregnancy. It's well received and the five victors have a small celebration in Katniss' home. At some point in the evening, Johanna and Peeta excuse themselves and take a walk around the slowly growing village that stands where District Twelve once did. When they return, Peeta bids her goodnight and walks back to his house. Johanna enters Katniss' home and hears her talking with Annie in the kitchen. She leans against the wall, not particularly meaning to eavesdrop, but curious.
"I just don't understand why she did it," Katniss says in her new, hollow way. Nothing seems to get through to her anymore. She's almost worse than Annie.
"You voted yes and didn't mean it," Annie replies adamantly. Johanna thinks it's funny because she'd never have thought in a million years that Annie would someday defend her.
"She meant it." Katniss' tone is painfully blunt. Johanna doesn't have to see them to know that Annie's lips are pursed. Her eyes a little wild. She's so easily flustered. She thinks about stepping in when Annie speaks again.
"She'd vote differently now," Annie insists. Johanna doesn't have time to move before Annie steps out of the kitchen and sees her there, leaning against the wall, smirking a little. Annie looks surprised to see her but also kind of not surprised at all. They leave together silently.
Johanna doesn't thank her because she isn't sure if she's right.
5. One day Annie asks her what they're going to name the child.
That was the moment Johanna realized that Annie truly wanted her to be part of this child's life. It scared her. Family. Annie wanted her to be part of their family. Johanna considers for a moment and says what they're both thinking.
"You should name him Finnick."
But they also both know that won't work. Every time Johanna says it she sounds angry and vicious. Every time Annie says it she sounds heartbroken and hollow. It wouldn't be fair to the child to hear his name spoken only with negative emotion. Maybe they'd be able to say it normally someday, but maybe they wouldn't. Johanna revises her opinion.
"Or Luke." She didn't say it to be mean, because she knows that the Arena haunts Annie day and night. She didn't want to remind her of her deceased district partner, but it also seems a fitting way to pay tribute. The wound wasn't as painful. Wasn't as fresh. Annie doesn't break down. She nods pensively.
"Lucas Blight Odair." She says. There. Something from each of the men they lost, the men they loved. Johanna feels as if she's been punched in the gut, but she knows that this is how things should be.
6. They're standing by Luke's cradle only days after he and Annie return from the hospital.
The house is in what used to be the Victor's Village, but it's not the one that Annie stayed in before. Like the victors' houses have always been, it is much too large for them – Johanna, Annie, and Mrs. Everdeen each have a room and Luke stays in Annie's, meaning they occupy only three of the six bedrooms.
"He's so beautiful," Annie says in quite wonderment. She's already so in love with the child. That doesn't really surprise Johanna, because Annie falls in love with just about everyone she meets. It's one of the things she likes best about her. And, Johanna has to agree with her. There's really no denying it. It's impossible to tell what the small child will look like when he's grown (she prays he doesn't look too much like Finnick) but he is definitely beautiful.
"This is perfect." Annie says as she looks down at her son, intertwining her fingers with Johanna's, tears welling in her eyes, her lips forming to move silent words that look suspiciously like we made him. Johanna studies her for a moment, looks down at their joined hands, and back to the cradle before she speaks.
"You remember that I'm not Finnick, don't you?" she asks, her tone dry and free of any humor. They don't joke about this kind of thing. Annie doesn't respond, but her expression falters as if she's only just realized this. Then she nods.
"I could never forget," she says.
Johanna wishes she wouldn't lie.
7. Sometimes they leave Luke with Mrs. Everdeen.
Both of them know it really isn't fair to her, even though she's a very dutiful babysitter and never tells them she's too busy for it. But the sadness in her eyes reminds Johanna that this woman hasn't lost just one but both of her daughters to the war.
But sometimes they need to get away.
Today isn't special. They're lying on the beach with their toes near the edge of the water and looking at the clouded evening sky. The tide is coming in, but neither of them move.
This is a game they've played many times before. They lie still as the waves nip their toes, then wash over their bare feet, then climb towards their bodies. Whoever goes the longest without crying or moving wins.
Johanna always loses.
8. They're in Twelve and Luke is playing with the Mellark children.
He's bigger than they are (and god, he looks so much like Finnick) but is remarkably kind with them. Katniss and Peeta's boy is rougher and likes to tackle his sister to the ground. He tries to tackle Luke, too.
Every time there is a horrible jolt of fear in Johanna's stomach and she's seeing this not from the porch of a house but on a television screen.
Annie's hand sometimes finds hers.
Johanna knows they will never stop living in fear. She wonders if Katniss feels this way too (her old friend is so distant, sometimes sings a song to one of her children or catches her husband's eye but she's worse than Annie, so much worse) or if she's somehow forgotten it all.
Johanna still can't swim.
Annie still can't remember.
The only thing that is right is Luke. He doesn't know the horrors they've been through. They have spent his entire life protecting him from that. They haven't had time to help themselves or to help each other. But Johanna is alright with that because this is what she was really fighting for. She loves Luke in a way she hasn't dared to let herself love since her family was taken from her.
And no matter how scared she is, he will always be safe.