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Chapter IV

A few days later, when Johanna woke up, she stared at the ceiling, thinking. That assumption had been wrong. People in Twelve weren't like the people in Seven. They didn't whisper about her, or look at her as if she was a nastily deceased animal. They were nice.

Johanna had started to become accustomed to the natural niceness of Twelve and its people. Whenever she went to town to buy food or simply to walk — a habit she had acquired in sleepless nights during her most recent stay at the Capitol —, people would look at her with a smile that, strained as it was, was always honest.

'It's their freedom,' Haymitch told her one day. 'People here used to take care of each other. You know, ignoring crimes or condoning them. Katniss was known everywhere for her hunting skills, but not even the Peacemakers would punish her. It was easier if everyone just kept quiet. Made living here that much better.'

It was hard for Johanna to wrap her head around it. She was never one to go running to tell a Peacemaker about a crime if she ever saw one, but the people in Seven had that twisted idea of morality the Capitol had fought so hard to implant upon its subjects; they would avoid being caught close to someone they considered a criminal, and there was always someone willing to give the slip about a theft or of disproportionate parcels of food rations being illegally delivered to a family in need. People couldn't be safe even around their neighbors.

Johanna had never felt safe living where they all lived.

In Twelve, things were different. Haymitch explained to her how there had been a black market, known by everyone and used by most, a place to which even Peacemakers would go on a daily basis to have a decent meal. Everybody found benefits in covering up the things the Capitol considered illegal.

'And everybody there used to be like a large family.' And although his tone had been ironic, Haymitch's face was thoughtful when he told Johanna this; his mind far away in places from the past now gone forever. Then he had looked at her, eyes deeply troubled and sad. He said, 'It's funny. I never liked going there because I used to hate them all, but now that most of them are dead, I miss them.'

Things kept happening in town, as expected. Some damaged buildings kept toppling over as some other zones were just being cleaned. There seemed to be no way to bring it all back to what it was. But people kept trying. Former miners would leave their houses early in the morning and stretch out their working hours as much as they could stand, digging through glass and what few metal the constructions used to have, breaking chunks of rock until they were a manageable size.

A week after Johanna arrived, the streets closest to the square and what everybody called the Seam had already been cleaned out to the point that it barely had the appearance of having been a war zone — that is, until you walked by one of the several pits that adorned the pavement at intervals and that no one really knew how to cover up.

Maybe they didn't want to, it occurred to Johanna one day. Maybe, like the Games, it was a way for the people in Twelve to remember what had been done to them in the past. She hated that — those pits and the incomplete pieces of walls that still stood. She couldn't understand why people would want to remember how they had nearly all been killed. To her it was absurd.

She liked it here, though. Living at Twelve gave some meaning to her existence. She was part of something again. She was one of the victors, and here the victors were seen as the heroes they were supposed to be. Children ran to her, beaming brightly, when they spotted her in town, and adults greeted her everywhere amiably, as if they knew her well. Overwhelmed, Johanna tried to be as nice about it all as she could.

In the Victor's Village things also happened, although they were much slower. At least for Johanna's liking. After that first encounter, Johanna had barely had the chance to see Katniss by herself. Peeta had become a sort of contingency she hadn't contemplated when she decided to come to live at District 12. He was constantly… well, wherever she went. His daily routine consisted in visiting Katniss, Haymitch and Johanna throughout the day, and whenever Johanna couldn't be at Katniss's — which was often the case when Peeta was there too — she left and went to Haymitch's; then, when Peeta left Katniss's he went to Haymitch's and spent the rest of the day there, talking both Haymitch and Johanna to sleep.

It wasn't precisely bad. She appreciated the company, and Peeta had turned out to be a very easy person to talk to. Johanna enjoyed having people in her life again. The thing was, Johanna wished she could spend all her time with Katniss. After all, that had been the whole point of coming to live here; she had barely been able to see her, though.

Besides, and even if Peeta evidently tried hard not to let it show, sometimes the weirdness that had been implanted in him at the Capitol often resurfaced at the strangest of times. Not that it was dangerous — he hadn't yet tried to strangle anyone as far as Johanna knew, for example; but many things he did or said could only be explained as the product of his troubled mind.

As Johanna lay there, deep in thought, she heard Peeta — who was probably in one of his delusional episodes — call out to her from down the stairs. 'Johanna!' he shouted. 'I'm coming into your house!'

Johanna chuckled. Then her chuckle turned into a sigh. She called back, 'Better get out, Mellark!'

'Too late,' he said, already walking through the doorway of her room.

Johanna sat up, more amused than angry. 'How rude!' she exclaimed exaggeratedly. 'Did it ever cross your mind that I might have been naked in here?'

Peeta stopped. His unfocused eyes trailed Johanna's upper-body at her words. A blanket covered her legs, but her chest and stomach were just covered by one layer of cloth.

Johanna would never forgive herself if she let this chance go. Biting her lip in mocking seductiveness, she gazed sultrily at him. 'Peeta,' she drawled. 'What does that look mean, huh?' Then she attempted to moan suggestively, but his reaction had been so above what she'd expected that she couldn't hold back her laughter.

'J-Jo—' Peeta tried. Johanna was rolling around on the bed, her stomach hurting from laughing so hard. 'That's not funny.'

By the end, Johanna's laughing had turned into a giggling fit. 'Not for you, maybe,' she interrupted herself to muster.

Johanna stretched her body with a loud satisfied moan, and finished her heavy thinking session by concluding How good life's come to be, while looking amusedly at Peeta's dark blush. She sighed once more and smirked at the ceiling.

'What's the plan for today?' she asked.

'What do you mean plan?' answered Peeta, the color of his face going back to normal.

'What are you doing here?'

'What?' Peeta was disoriented. He blinked at her and remembered. 'Oh,' he exclaimed. 'Someone mutilated the bush of primroses.'

Johanna chuckled. 'I did it… Like… two weeks ago.'

The feeling of the brown buds being squeezed inside her fists was still fresh in Johanna's memory.

Peeta frowned. 'Have I…?' He hesitated. Johanna knew what he'd ask. She did not want to hear it. 'Have I said that before?'

'About twice already,' she smiled pitifully at him. 'It's okay, Peeta, it's nice seeing you so often.' Her hand squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. 'Gonna take a shower now.' She pushed him out of the room. 'Help yourself to some food, Peeta,' she then called through the door, her ear pressed against the wood to make sure he descended. 'It'll go bad if no one eats it.'

The lady hired to feed Katniss — Greasy Sae, Johanna thought it was — had been stacking up her fridge for no reason at all. Johanna hardly ever spent time in her house, though, so the food just kept piling up.

Doctor Aurelius had told her a fear can be overcome by 'gradual exposition', that she could help herself overcome her instinctive fear of water by trying to submerge parts of her body small bit by small bit; one day a foot, another a hand, then wet her chest, wash her legs… So far Johanna had only been able to dip her hand in the water and cover her thighs with it, but her trembling had gotten so bad by the simple action that she had been afraid of trying it again.

She felt like trying then. Seeing Peeta had helped her make up her mind. It didn't matter how intense it had been for her to cut the dead buds from the bush days ago — it had only been a metaphor. If she wanted to really escape Snow's still-looming presence, she had to fight the mutt she had become.

With that in mind, Johanna pushed herself off the door and went into the bathroom.

Once the bathtub was full and Johanna naked, she threw the towel to the floor and stepped into the dreaded liquid, not giving herself chance to think about it.

The feeling was familiar, even after all that time. The water level not quite reaching her knees, she felt the warm tingling on her calves spread all over her body in one portion of a second. In less than a heartbeat she felt her body convulse, her blood pounding in her ears. She sat at the edge of the tub, adamant to resist it.

Her eyelids closed tight. Johanna tried to make her breathing calm, only succeeding after a few minutes. She then focused on the water touching her skin. It felt good — warm. She delved in the familiar sensation; she'd missed it.

Johanna let her mind wander. She recalled long baths and swimming sessions. Finnick swimming with her when she visited, years ago. How could something as simple and harmless as water cause her so much trouble? Johanna felt such hate for herself at the thought as she had never before felt.

You mutt, she told herself.

Then, she looked down and smiled. She was actually doing it. Her calves were under the water and she was enjoying the soft tickling sensation. She sighed happily. Not so much a mutt anymore, huh?

Hope burned inside her chest.

At that moment she was sure Snow was gone for good. No such thing as nightmares of him anymore. She had had enough. No more images of her beheading rival tributes or of her hands tightly wrapped around someone's neck. No more images of her victims coming back to haunt her night after night. No more electrical shocks at the feeling of water raining down on her.

She dipped her hands in the water, which was starting to turn cold, and let it fall over her head. After a few repetitions of the exercise, Johanna stood up.

There was nothing she couldn't do today.

Not wanting to discourage herself by trying to take thigs too far, though, Johanna dried herself up and got into her room to dress. When she descended the stairs she called out for Peeta.

'In here!'

He was in the kitchen, had called her through a mouthful of something. He smiled. 'I think Sae gives you the best food.'

'Really?'

Peeta nodded. 'Your fruits are fresher than mine.' He played with an apple for a bit before biting it. 'So juicy.'

'Same as me.' Johanna quirked her eyebrow suggestively. Peeta blushed again. 'Take some for you, if you want… Or all of them, for all I care. I don't spend too much time here, anyway.' Johanna waved her hand. 'Your place is nicer, or Haymitch's.'

'You kiddin',' Peeta snorted. 'I mean,' he added, looking around him, 'your place and mine are pretty much the same, but Haymitch's…?' He shook his head, letting her know he couldn't possibly see what she liked about it.

'Hey.' Johanna felt one of those urges to protect Haymitch's lifestyle again. She'd been feeling that way often. 'You seem to like it better there than at your house, too.'

Peeta shrugged again in response. Johanna thought he looked slightly irritated. He said, 'Better with you than on my own, right? And you're always with Haymitch.'

There were so many layers to that comment that Johanna decided to spend some time pretending to look for something to eat while she reflected.

First, Peeta had again showed his distaste for spending time with Haymitch, something that Johanna had already noticed. The interaction between the two of them was cracked, Johanna thought. Whenever they spoke to the other there was always a sort of instinctive wariness in their tone. They were constantly afraid they would open again a metaphorical wound by saying the wrong thing. Haymitch more than Peeta.

This wasn't news for Johanna. Twice already she had inquired about it to Haymitch. The first time, she'd asked him, 'Is it me or is Peeta sort of mad at you?'

Haymitch had avoided her eyes. 'Don't know what you're talking about,' he had said.

The second time Johanna had been more direct. Peeta had just disappeared out the kitchen door, claiming he'd go check on Katniss.

'Are you two ever going to talk about whatever's going on?' she mustered after the front door closed.

It wasn't her place to question a thing about something that had been going on for long before she came to Twelve, and she knew it; and Haymitch had let her know that by looking at her in that moment. His grey eyes cold, he'd stared at her for so long she considered apologizing and leaving. Then, Haymitch said shortly: 'Whatever problem we have is his problem.'

And indeed, after that, Johanna started watching them more attentively. Haymitch was leading a life of constant struggle to reach out to the boy, but Peeta kept taking steps backward and away from his former mentor.

Her head throbbed weakly when she tried to figure out what Peeta's despise could be founded on — there seemed to be too many probable causes.

The second layer Johanna could unravel from what Peeta had said, was how he apparently considered spending time with Katniss as being — his words, not Johanna's — 'on his own'.

Haymitch had taken enough decisions in his life as to have the whole district hating him; that Peeta amid them all hated him most was no surprise. But that Peeta felt something negative about the time he got to spend with Katniss was something Johanna never thought she'd hear. In truth, it annoyed her more than any other thing. Were it within her possibilities, Johanna would spend all her days with her; she couldn't, though, because being with her these days implied being with Peeta too, and Johanna sort of preferred being with Katniss alone. The presence of any other person there changed the whole experience, she felt; especially if it was Peeta, who had gone through so much with and because of Katniss.

It was hard for her to empathize with him on that point. The few times she'd seen Katniss since her arrival, she seemed fine to Johanna. A bit tired and inactive, but fine. She was still sarcastic and she was still a very poor conversationalist. Johanna couldn't see how Peeta felt.

The next point of analysis Johanna extracted from that unexpectedly deep answer, was how Peeta went to Haymitch's house only because there is where Johanna used to be.

That was true. Johanna did spend most of her time with Haymitch. The spontaneous relationship they seemed to have developed was the result of a series of independent circumstances: Johanna was the only person Haymitch could talk to right now who didn't resent him for the events that occurred at the Quell; she didn't really have anywhere else to go besides Katniss's place, which, as has been told, was out of the question; both Johanna and Haymitch were the only ones that had lived through years of Hunger Games as mentors, a situation that, they both agreed, put them apart from Peeta and Katniss, no matter how many horrors those two had survived at the war; and, ultimately, maybe Johanna and Haymitch just weren't all that different when things came down to it — they really got along easily.

But none of that was what bothered Johanna of what Peeta had said. The way he said it… as if he sacrificed the comfort of not having to be around Haymitch just to see her… It unsettled her. In her mind there was no good reason to be somewhere you didn't want to be just to be with someone else. That is, she'd do it for Katniss without hesitation, but in the mental and emotional situation Johanna was, that was hardly surprising — as a matter of fact, it only alarmed Johanna more to think that what he was doing for her she would only do for Katniss.

Was Peeta feeling that way towards her? And if so, why did he insist on spending so much time with Katniss instead of with Johanna?

Johanna felt a dangerous throb in the back of her head again. She stopped thinking, not caring that there were at least another couple of layers she could unravel.

She took some random container and sat on the table, watching Peeta.

Johanna thought her next words thoroughly. 'You really hate him, huh?' she mumbled through a mouthful. It was safe: not exactly inquisitive, but enough to maybe get him to say something.

Peeta stared at her, his expression impassible. Johanna realized he was still trying to decide whether he wanted to trust her or not.

She said, frowning, 'Peeta, what's the point of wanting me around if we won't talk about these things?'

'I didn't remember you as such a talker, to be honest.' Peeta's lips drew a small smirk.

'Things change.'

'But some others don't.' His smirk was now complete.

Johanna nodded condescendingly. 'You gonna talk or can we leave?' Peeta asked where they'd be going to. Johanna lifted an eyebrow, both to let him know that the answer was obvious and that she was not going to let him change the subject. 'Gotta face it,' she stated firmly.

Peeta sighed.

'I don't know.' He made a big deal out of washing a plate he hadn't used before speaking again. Johanna waited patiently. 'I guess I can't help it.' He looked at Johanna. 'He said he'd keep her alive.'

Johanna frowned. It was all because of Katniss, then. 'And he did, didn't he?'

'But in what state?' Peeta exclaimed. Johanna suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at him. 'I mean, what happened to her? You can see it, too.' He pointed at her. 'You lived with her. You can tell.'

'I can tell she's still alive.' And I can tell she missed me as much as I did her, because she told me. Johanna kept that to herself.

'Oh, big deal.' Peeta shook his head at Johanna. 'You don't even care.'

Johanna jumped down from the table. Walking slowly towards him, she felt her hand close in a tight fist, ready to punch. 'You've no idea what you're talking about, Mellark.'

He had touched a soft spot, and somehow he knew it. 'Okay.' Peeta showed Johanna his hands in surrender. 'I'm sorry.' She kept her scowl centered on him. 'I just can't…' He gazed at her miserably. 'She's not Katniss anymore.'

This time, Johanna did roll her eyes. 'Oh,' she cried. 'Come on!' She slapped him on the cheek; not hard enough for it to hurt, though. 'You gotta let that go, man! Things change — people change.' She chuckled. 'You think you're the same person you were. Open up those stunning blues and see what things have come to be, okay?'

His eyes wide, his mouth hanging open, Peeta stared at her.

A long silence followed.

'She won't even come out.' Peeta's voice broke.

Suppressing another eye-roll, Johanna promised herself that if Peeta cried she'd knock him out — for his own good.

She said, 'She won't even get up from her couch, I know.' Her shoulders rose. 'So what? Nothing we can do about it. Let's just keep ourselves around her for when she does, okay? Because she'll need us.'

Peeta was quiet. Suddenly, he smiled. He turned to Johanna. 'You'd said that already.' Johanna frowned, not remembering. 'Not to me — to Haymitch. I heard you. Months ago.' His lips stretched wider. 'At Snow's mansion.'

Johanna knew what he was talking about. She had been at a control room, watching Katniss. Haymitch had found her.

'Paylor wanted me to tell you you're not allowed in here.' Katniss had been laying without moving on her bed, her eyes unfocused upward. They watched her through a screen. Haymitch told her Paylor was about to become the new president, that they shouldn't be defying her. 'We don't want to be treated as Coin treated us, do we?'

Johanna inquired whether it was a good thing or a bad thing to have Paylor become the new leader of Panem. Haymitch had shrugged. 'She likes us enough,' he said.

Us, Johanna thought. 'We're a family now?'

Haymitch had chuckled.

Of course they weren't a family. They didn't know a thing about each other. Besides, back then, Johanna didn't have any interest in Peeta or in Haymitch; and her interest in Katniss was driven only by the dreams she'd been having in the mansion. Dreams of warmth and kindness. She was trying to learn what they were about, what they meant.

'You gonna take me with you?'

'Paylor told me to tell you you shouldn't be here, not that I should prevent you from being here.' He motioned with his head at the screen. 'You enjoying it?'

Johanna stared at it. Katniss had gone into the bathroom. Just a day before Johanna had written her first letter addressed to Katniss. She had been making up her mind. Did she want her to read it?

'When are you leaving?' he asked.

'Couple days.' Haymitch lied to her then, told her he wished she'd come with them. 'Stop it.'

They watched in silence as Katniss walked out of the bathroom. Her eyes drifted over the untouched plate of food; she ignored it, then lay back down.

'Never thought it could be so hard to commit suicide,' Johanna said. 'Such a curse it must be to be the only one who wishes you were dead, huh?'

'Oh,' Haymitch smirked, 'I'm sure there's plenty of people who wishes I was dead.'

'All but you, Abernathy — that's my point.' She nodded at Katniss. 'Katniss Everdeen is the only one that wishes Katniss Everdeen was dead.' She sighed. Even I want her to live now, Johanna thought.

'You think she'll recover?'

'Oh, sure she will.' Johanna laughed shortly. 'Enough to be functional, like all of us.'

'Really? She lost a sister.'

Johanna snorted. 'And you your family. The same as Peeta or me. Or all the other dead ones. She'll recover.' She nodded confidently. 'What she'll need,' she added, 'is for us to be around her when she does. So let's try to be there for her.'

'Hey, hey,' Haymitch's eyes showed a small amount of surprise. 'You're serious.' Johanna nodded dismissively. 'But you're leaving.'

'I know,' Johanna had replied. 'I know,' she had repeated.

Then she had left.

Peeta was staring at her, smile frozen on his face, his stance stiff. In his gaze Johanna could see the sadness of a boy who'd lost everything — his parents, his brothers, his mentor; all his friends if he'd ever had them; the one she loved. And beneath all that she could see the foundations of the man he would come to be. Broken, maybe, but with more in his past than what many others could claim to have gone through at the age of forty. And his eyes were focused, his intention clear in them. He was weighing her up. Eternally trying to see through her every thought. He wanted to understand her.

Johanna looked away.

No one understood her. No one had ever done it. No one but Katniss — and she wanted it to remain that way.

Finally, Johanna made her way to the doorway. And, eyebrows relaxed, voice low, smirk softly spread, she asked him, 'Shall we go now?'

Peeta sighed. He stood up and followed her out to the hallway. At her front door, he placed his hand on the doorknob. Before opening, though, he whispered at Johanna.

'There's really lots of hope in you, isn't there?'

'You have no idea.' A shiver ran down Johanna's spine.

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