Johanna mounts the stage.
She is in the same place that she was before; so are they. They stand in front of her, the Peacekeeper presence fading into the background amidst their large brown eyes and plain clothes, either broad-shouldered from labor in the forests or slightly bent from work in the paper mill; the sky is white, the world is bleak. The forest is a swath of green paint along the horizon line, messy and spotted as if the work of a child. The Capitol always seemed to smell like fruit and soap; this smells real. This smells like home.
The mayor, Donner, his wife and three daughters sit in simple chairs to her right. Cornelia Lolita, her escort, stands in a bright orange getup, dress and tights and all, hair to the ceiling with sunset-colored curls and heels with fabric that speaks eerily of dog fur. She's managed to draw on her eyebrows into a perpetually surprised fashion, teeth glimmering in the white light as she announces with egoistic satisfaction, "Please welcome the first female Victor from District Seven, Johanna Mason!"
She doesn't smile. She cannot. They clap unenthusiastically. Their eyes speak of sympathy. Blight was right. They are not disgusted with her.
They do not want to clap for this. They do not want to give a show of appreciation for their gut-wrenching acidic anticipation, for their anguish no doubt at Cedan's death, for the nights they returned to their homes waiting for the words, the scream, the cannon that would tell them that they had once again sacrificed two of their children to the senseless and sacrilegious Games. Instead, they sacrificed just one. They will not clap for this sadistic mercy. They will not clap, for the shame.
She remembers the feel of Cedan's hand, when their fingers interlocked, when they were reaped and they stood together, united in fate. The stage suddenly feels very empty.
Be as this may, she does not wish he were here instead of her. She does not regret her manipulation and murder. She said she was coming home. She has.
She spots her family in the third row. Her father's hair has grayed, though he is clean shaven. He is built like an ox, half a head taller than the other men. He will be proud of her.
Her mother is glorious. She has always been glorious. Her eyes speak of indignation. To her side are the twins. Asher is still much smaller than his brother. He is smiling. John seems to be in shock.
She speaks briefly, for the cameras, of her joy at being home. Of her thanks to the Capitol for their hospitality. Panem today, Panem tomorrow, Panem forever.
Afterwards, she is told she has six weeks before the beginning of the Victory tour. A little time to whet the Capitol's appetite, Blight adds. She is given time to say goodbye to Lucius and Cornelia. Her styling team does not wait – she hated them too, so it's really for the better. Cornelia starts to tear up about how Johanna is her most prized accomplishment and how she will go home and speak volumes of her intelligence and bravery. In six weeks, she will be forced to rely on Cornelia again, so Johanna in turn manages to look as if holding back tears as she hugs the woman's shoulders, telling her she couldn't have had a better escort, her planning made all the difference, she was an inspiration to them all. Cornelia looks nostalgic and pleased with herself as she walks away.
Lucius smiles his crooked smile. His hair is bright pink with a few strands of blue, wavy with a perfect front curl, sprayed to concrete-hardness. His eyeliner is blue, as is his blush. His outfit is strangely masculine, what with the eccentric curves and day-glow colors. She supposes that's the sort of thing they extoll him for in the Capitol. He puts a hand on her shoulder. "I'll be missing you, my dear."
"Try not to skin any dogs while I'm gone?"
"As long as you promise to brush your hair every few days, at least."
She gives him a sneer. He winks and makes his way to the train. Before he boards, he calls, "If you don't leave me something to work with, I'll be forced to tie you into that wig again."
As soon as the train departs, she is ushered back into a car and dragged back to the Victor's Village, where Blight explains that the cameras have absolutely insisted on getting a few shots of her greeting her new home. She tries to look at least marginally thankful. They leave very quickly. Everyone departs, and she is finally left alone.
"I'm going to see my family." She tells Blight. She walks out her door and pushes past him, looking confused on her front step.
"Johanna, it's past curfew. We should both be inside now. I was just coming to check-"
"What are they going to do, shoot me?" She laughs bitterly. "I am Johanna Mason," - she puts on her best Capitol accent - "the first female tribute from District Seven! They know that. Let them come."
She makes her way home in silence. The Peacekeepers pretend not to notice. She makes eye contact. Let them come. What could they do? They already tried to kill me, the bastards. She feels the power in those words and thinks of the butchered Career girl. They already tried to kill me.
But in all of her hatred, she cannot deny the truth of what she has done, what she is doing. She walked onto the stage, walked through the arena. Now she is walking home. Not the same girl they once knew, but better than a shadow of grief and a picture on the wall.
Mother, father, brother. How I have waited for you.
Her mother opens the door. She stares at her for half a second before pulling her into a warm embrace. Johanna feels a warm hand smoothing her hair. She tries not to cling. She clings, nonetheless. She is graced with her mother's smell. It reminds her of childhood.
When she is released, she sees her father towering over them both with large, brown eyes, like that of a buck. He smiles. "Johanna."
John watches her with joy, yet apprehension. Asher smells sweet as he hugs her around her middle. He looks as if he's going to cry. She begs him not to cry. He does anyway. In between sobs, he wretches, "I really – I really missed you. Don't leave again, ever. Okay?" His large brown eyes are swimming with tears. His voice is small. "Okay?"
She knows not to promise him this. "Okay."
She dines with them, though she refuses to take even a small portion of their food – not after the bounty she's received in the Capitol.
She sits across the table from her father. "You know," She says to him, "They've given me one of those houses. In the Victor's Village. They're huge. Two stories. Something like four or five bedrooms. It's all furnished. Everything's paid for." She doesn't quite know how to say it. "You should... I mean, do you want to maybe move there? Permanently? We could live together – it would be closer to town, too – and to the mill. It's gated, and there would be a yard-"
"Johanna." Her father states calmly, "Thank you. But we're content here."
"That's ridiculous. We're crammed into two bedrooms. We have this opportunity-"
Her mother looks frank. "I'm not excited about taking a Capitol handout. That doesn't thrill me." She reaches for Johanna's hand. "I'm so happy you came back." She squeezes her hand. "It doesn't matter where we are. As long as we're together."
Johanna snatches her hand back. "This isn't a Capitol handout! I won it!" The ferocity in that statement seems to shock them into silence. She slides out from her seat at the table. "I won it. I took it from them. I put on their costumes and danced their dance and I won. Why can't it be worth something?" She makes to exit to the balcony. "I want it to be worth something for us. Something real."
She sits on the steps and watches the stars shine. It is the first time she saw them. In the arena, they were fake projections. In the Capitol, the night sky was black.
Hello all! Just wanted to beg you real quick to PLEASE review. Seriously they give me the motivation to keep going. If you don't happen to have the time I completely understand! Thank you so much for reading. -QR3