I don't own The Hunger Games. The characters are the property of Suzanne Collins. No money has exchanged hands.
As they came upon the cells where the tributes were kept, they split up. One soldier stood guard, two went for Peeta, one for Annie, and Gale went for Johanna Mason. He wasn't sure what to expect. From what he had seen of her in the Games, she seemed like a witch of a woman. He knew that she had to have been hurt by Snow and the peacekeepers, but he wasn't expecting what he found in the cell. Her bruised, emaciated form was strapped onto a table. She was wearing a white jumpsuit made of some sort of synthetic material. Her head was bald and her face was bruised and covered in weeping scabs. She seemed to be unconscious, and Gale felt her pulse, deciding it was stable enough that he felt comfortable moving her. Carefully, he pulled at the wide velcro strap around one of her wrists, and noticed that it was covered in dried blood. When he removed the strap, he saw the raw, infected skin underneath. He moved to the other side of her, and took off the other restraint, then moved to her ankles. After she was free, Gale lifted her frail, bony body and carrying her out of the cell.
Suddenly, he heard gunfire, and he ducked, shielding Johanna. Another soldier from 13 was holding a fragile red-headed woman and strapping himself into a hoist that would lift up to the helicopter.
"You're the last one down here, Hawthorne. The peacekeepers are on their way. Try and hold them off until we can hoist you up."
"Got it."
He watched as the hoist pulled the soldier and redhead to safety. Pressing himself against the wall, he cradled the woman in his arms carefully, whispering a prayer to no one that they wouldn't be spotted. He saw the hoist being lowered again at a snail's pace. Finally, it reached their level, and as he rapidly left the wall and secured the hoist, he felt a bullet make contact with his shoulder. Trying not to think about it, he tugged the rope twice, and as it lifted him, another bullet barely missed his head.
They finally made it onto the plane, and Gale noticed that both of the other tributes were unconscious. He saw Johanna shivering, and covered her freezing hands with his larger, warm ones.
"Hawthorne, you're bleeding." Boggs said, shoving a gauze pad toward him. Gale took it and held it to his left shoulder, wincing at the pressure. The bullet had grazed it, likely breaking some of the bone in its path.
It was a quiet ride back to 13. They were all waiting to be blasted into oblivion, but by some miracle, they made it back safely. A large med crew was waiting for them. They quickly transferred Annie, Johanna and Peeta onto gurneys and made their way toward the medical ward.
Johanna awoke slowly, wondering what new horror she would endure. Someone was putting tubes in her nose, and then some sort of gas was pumped into her nostrils. She tried not to breath. What could they be giving her? Then she noticed she wasn't strapped to the table like she normally was. Rapidly, she opened her eyes and pushed herself off the table, staggering toward the nearest exit. An IV pole was dragged behind her for a few feet before she ripped the needle out of her arm. Her muscles screamed at her. She hadn't walked across a room in several weeks; she had grown too weak, and the peacekeepers had started putting her in a wheelchair if she needed to be moved.
"Johanna, stop."
She didn't recognize the voice, and when she turned, she saw a woman in a very strange looking outfit. She had on a turtleneck shirt and a gown that looked like something she had seen one time in a medical clinic.
"You're in District 13. You're not in the capitol anymore. You're safe now."
She had to be lying. This was just another capitol trick. Johanna pushed through the door, into a hallway. It was then that she saw Gale Hawthorne on a table getting his shoulder sutured by a medic. It didn't make sense. She looked down, and noticed that she wasn't in the jumpsuit the capitol had stuck her in. She was wearing a yellow, papery gown. Looking around, she tried to decide if this was all real. Was she on tracker jacker venom again, or had she really been rescued? At that moment, her legs decided it was a great moment to stop supporting her. She tried to collapse with dignity, but ended up with one leg under herself, one stretched out in front, her elbows shakily holding her up from behind. The damned doctor showed up with a wheelchair within a moment and pulled Johanna up by the armpits, setting her gently in the chair. Johanna glared murderously at the doctor, but her tongue was too sticky to get any words out.
"Johanna, you're safe, but you're dehydrated and we need to rehydrate you with an IV," she said, wheeling the woman back toward the room she had been in.
She continued to sneer at the doctor, but didn't fight as she was lifted back into bed.
"It's just saline, see?" She held out the clear bag of fluids, and Johanna glanced down at the label, which read "Normal Saline."
Huffing, she held out her arm and the doctor put a tourniquet on Johanna's arm, rubbed the skin with an alcohol wipe, then said "little pinch" as she inserted the needle. Hooking it up to a bag of fluid, she stood back.
"Are you in pain?"
She gave a single nod.
"Where?"
She didn't answer.
The doctor brought out some ointment and q-tips.
"How about I treat some of your wounds?"
Johanna still didn't respond. The doctor dabbed a wound on her arm, and the woman winced, but didn't resist the treatment. The doctor noticed burn marks all over Johanna's body.
"What happened here?" She asked, pointing at one of the burn marks.
The woman didn't answer.
"I'm going to give you some morphling, Johanna. That might make you a little bit sleepy, okay?"
After the doctor connected the small bag to the IV, there was a rushing feeling and her pain seemed to melt away. Slowly, Johanna sat back, eyes closing, muscles relaxing.
She woke again, stifling a whimper. The oxygen tubes were back in her nose, and she ripped them out, tossing them angrily to the side.
"Hi."
It was Finnick. Johanna tried to sit up in bed, but her head throbbed and everything seemed to spin. She sat back and swallowed, trying to avoid throwing up.
"You look like hell," he said, smiling.
"You've gotten fat," she managed hoarsely. They were the first words that she had said in probably three weeks.
He laughed good naturedly. "Fat, but still handsome as all get out."
"In your dreams." She tried to smirk, but she couldn't.
How are you feeling?"
She closed her eyes for a moment, reluctantly opening them a few moments later.
"That bad?"
She pressed her lips together, clutched at the blankets that were over her legs, vaguely realizing that she hadn't slept with blankets on since she was in the training center before the Quarter Quell. Those ones had been luxurious, made of deliciously soft material that she felt she had no right to touch. These ones were scratchy, but felt much more like something she would have had at home. But she couldn't think about home. She didn't have one. She smirked, but there wasn't even a spark in her eyes like there used to be.
"I wish I had died in that arena."
"I know."
"I had my knife. It would have been so easy."
"I know."
"No one would have even cared."
"Yes we would have."
"No Finnick. You were worried about Annie while we were in there. You probably didn't give me much thought."
Finnick started to defend himself, but Johanna cut him off.
"No. It's okay. I'm not mad. That's just the way things are. There's not anyone left that I love." She laid her head back, closing her eyes and almost wishing she had the oxygen tubes in her nose. It did feel hard to breathe.
"I'm going to go. Try and get your beauty rest. You could really use it."
She flicked him off, and he gave her a winning grin as he exited. Without the distraction of another human, her pain became more evident, and she felt overwhelmed and shaky. She sat motionless, listening to her own uneven breath.
Eventually, the doctor from before came in.
"Hi Johanna. How are you?"
She didn't answer. A nurse set up a bag on her IV pole, switching the drip over to the small bag. The pain nagging at her ribs calmed, and she began to feel relaxed and lethargic. Meanwhile, the doctor took her blood pressure and wrote something on a clipboard.
"Do you need anything?"
She gave a short huff in reply, and the doctor nodded and left. Though she wanted to stay awake just to spite everyone, Johanna's exhaustion soon took over, and she fell asleep.
Her 15 hours of sleep consisted of countless nightmares. She finally awoke from one of them, her breath labored, burning through her chest.. A girl was sitting next to her in the bed, staring at her. The oxygen tubes were back, and she pulled them off, staring back at the girl as she did so.
"You're Prim, aren't you?" Her voice was still scratchy and painful.
"Yeah."
"Why are you here?"
"I'm training to be a doctor and… well, you were screaming in your sleep."
"Oh."
Prim handed her the nasal cannula deliberately.
"I don't want that."
"Your oxygen saturation is low. You need it." Prim reached to the bedside table and grabbed a mug filled with steaming liquid, handing it to Johanna, who had poutingly put on the oxygen tube and then snuggled further under her covers, grasping the mug.
"Uh, thanks."
"No problem. So what were you dreaming about?"
"Nothing."
"You were screaming."
She took a sip of what was in the cup. It was slightly bitter, but felt soothing on her throat.
"Do you feel safe here, Johanna?"
Johanna laughed bitterly. "No."
"Is there anything I can do that would make you feel safer?"
"Yeah, kill Snow and all the damn peacekeepers."
"There's people working on it."
Pain was starting to burn through her body as the morphling wore off, and she shifted in the bed, wincing.
"Are you okay?"
"I need more drugs."
Prim left for a moment and came back with a small bag that she hung to Johanna's IV pole. She disconnected the tube from the large bag of clear liquids and attached it to the other bag.
"So… what's wrong with me?" Johanna asked, looking everywhere but at the teenager.
"You have severe bruising and some internal abdominal bleeding, a few nasty infections in some of your sores and burns, muscle weakness, and you're malnourished."
"Fantastic."
"The doctor is going to come see you in about half an hour."
"She's an idiot."
Prim gave a small smile. "I know."
"Has Katniss seen Peeta yet?"
Prim grew serious and nodded.
"He's messed up. We all are, but especially him. His cell was next to mine. I could hear him…. Just keep him away from Katniss."
"You know she'll fight to see him."
Johanna nodded, wincing at the movement. She was struggling to stay awake with the morphling entering her bloodstream.
"Do you want me to leave so you can get some rest?"
"Yeah."
"Okay. Let me know if you need anything, okay?"
Johanna nodded slightly, and shut her eyes as Prim left the room, falling to sleep almost immediately.
This is my first fanfic for anything besides Warehouse 13, so let me know how I did! More is coming soon.