Trigger warnings: Drug use, profanity
So give me hope in the darkness
That I will see the light
Cos oh they gave me such a fright
And I will hold with all of my might
Just promise me we'll be all right
~"Ghosts That We Knew" by Mumford & Sons
I follow behind her as we walk through the corridor. She strides past our compartment and I raise an eyebrow.
"Jo—" I start, meeting her stride but she places a hand on my arm to silence me. We round corners and go down multiple hallways before she stops at a door labeled for authorized personnel only. She knocks on the door and a devious smile grows on her face when there is no answer.
"Watch my back," she says, and before I can argue she slips into the room. I wait beside the door uneasily, not wanting to become an accomplice in whatever her schemes are. I listen to her shift through the bins in the room. It smells faintly of fresh cloth and ammonia and after a peek inside I realize that it's a medical closet. Johanna emerges with something clasped in her hand and shuts the door behind her.
"Come on," she says, leading me in the direction from where we came.
-xxxxxx-
She peels off her clothes when we get into the compartment and plumps down on her bed. Holding out her hand to me, I see that there are two ampoule syringes of morphling in her hand, similar the ones soldiers were given in battle to numb the pain of a wound so they could continue fighting.
"Took me forever to find that closet ever since they cut me off," she says, removing the protective casing from one of the syringes with her teeth. "I couldn't find my way back to my room the first time I went in and they had to send two nurses to go looking for me," she adds, smiling at the memory. "I only took two so they wouldn't notice a dent in the supply. Want one?"
I do. But under the circumstances of being the all-powerful and protected Mockingjay I think twice about it. I don't want to bond with Johanna over drugs either.
"Suit yourself," she tells me simply when I shake my head.
I turn away as she plunges the needle into her skin. She sighs in relief and lies back on her mattress.
"How did you even find that place?" I ask.
"I was out of it," she replies. "In one of my dazes. I was lucid enough to realize where I was once I found it though." She turns over on her mattress, her back away from me. Rounding up my clothes, I head to the showers.
I manage to sneak my lunch back to the compartment on the way back. Johanna had put on her second pair of clothes and is now wrapped up in sheets in her bed. When she hears me set my tray down on the end table she turns towards me.
"Want some?" I ask as she sits up sluggishly.
"Yeah, I'll try."
She gets about halfway through the stew I brought her before it comes back up. I almost didn't reach the wastebasket in time for her.
"It is miraculous that you didn't get too sick from today," I say absently as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. "Apart from your upset stomach."
"Hah. Lucky me."
-x-
We spend the remainder of our day doing mindless things, like talking about the revolution and reviewing our military terms. I tie knots to pass the time. Johanna mentions how Finnick tried to get her to do that too, but it only worked to a certain extent.
I manage to get some water in her and she has since then fallen asleep. Sometimes I hear Johanna mumble in her slumber but she doesn't wake up. I envy her.
I didn't notice until now but there's a circular scar smaller than the palm of my hand just at the juncture of the back of Johanna's neck. I remember wondering if that was there before or if it was the Capitol's work before I drift asleep.
Later that night, she returns from the bathroom with wet rags and spends a considerable amount of time cleaning the remaining mud off her skin.
-xxxxxx-
"Johanna?" Her first name feels strange on my tongue because we have grown so accustomed to calling each other by our last names. It's late and I know it's futile to just call out into the darkness after she took a hit from her morphling supply, but I do it anyway.
After no reply I roll over onto my back and try to sleep when her voice rings through the silence.
"What?"
"You okay?" I blurt. I wasn't expecting an answer.
"Just dandy," she slurs, her speech affected by the morphling. "So, are all our conversations just going to consist of you asking if I'm okay? Because I'm fine."
"I—sorry," I mumble. "Couldn't sleep."
"I know the feeling," she says drolly.
"I just wanted to know I'm not alone in here."
"Hm. Well, I would like be alone in here," she begins, "but due to your insomnia I've been unable to sneak away from you long enough to find an efficacious murder weapon to bludgeon you with," she finishes, rolling over on her side so her back is towards me. "So I'm not going anywhere." I detect a touch of sincerity behind her voice in that last statement but she had said everything so bluntly I can't be sure.
A/N: I really don't have any personal experience with morphine withdrawal, but I'll try my best to write it out. Thank you to those who followed or reviewed or both! Next update should be around the end of the week. :)