I looked up when I heard the door open.
"Hi Johanna."

"Doing any better?"
"Not really. Although I haven't died yet, if that's really a good thing."
"I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault."
"You're right. It's Snow's fault for breaking you. The worst thing you can do to him is fight for yourself."
"What?"
"Fight this. Work to make your mind do what it used to do. Try to bring back who you were. Prove to yourself that he hasn't broken you beyond repair. He sent you back as a weapon because he was so confident that you were in his control, but he was wrong. Show everyone how wrong he was. Bring back your love for brainless so that you can show all of Panem that Snow doesn't have the power he thinks he has. That nobody can take your love from you. That if we fight, we can defeat Snow. I know you can do this or I wouldn't tell you to."
Jo had started calling HER brainless so that her name wouldn't trigger an attack. So far it's worked.
"Where is she?"
"Brainless? She's in D2. Propos I think."
"Is she safe?"
"She's not safe anywhere."
"She's safe here in District 13. As long as they keep her away from me, that is."
Johanna shook her head, leaning down to whisper in my ear. Her mouth was hidden from the cameras and prying eyes of the doctors on the other side of the wall.
"Coin is going to take her out sometime. Brainless isn't her biggest fan, and that means Panem won't be her biggest fan when we win this thing. Coin can't risk someone of that influence to not support her."
"But the revolution will die if-"
"No. Her part's over. If she dies now she'll be a martyr, a face the Capitol crushed for the rebels to fight for. Same goes for you. They're trying to keep you alive but they won't go out of their way like they used to for her. That's why you have to fight so you can get out of here and think for yourself."
"How do you know this, Jo?"
She smirked.
"I'm better at holding my morphling than the doctors think I am. Plutarch visits me often. I'm smart."
"Jo, you're in danger."
"We all are. I'd rather it be like this than me dying clueless. But it's good to hear you protecting Ka-brainless again. Means Peeta's coming back."

Jo ambled away, muttering something about being low on morphling, and the doctor came in a few minutes later.

"Doctor, I'd like you to take off the restraints."
"I'll have to make sure that's safe first."
"It is. I haven't needed them for a week now, I haven't pulled against them or wanted to do anything violent."
"I'll call a guard in just in case. One moment."
Being free is the first step to getting myself back. The doctors don't know what to do, so I'll do this myself. I will conquer my hijacking. Plus, the straps they use are exactly the same as the ones in my cell in the Capitol, getting rid of them is one less trigger to fight.
"Alright, Peeta. We'll start slowly, okay?"
One arm at a time, the doctor released me. I can do this. I know I can do this. He still had my chest strapped in.
"Can I stand?"
"Patience, Peeta. Lets wait a couple minutes with your arms loose and see how that goes."
"Okay."
I stretched my arms, rubbing the tense muscles and bringing back the circulation. I examined the faint marks from when I had strained against my bonds, when I thought I was back in the Capitol strapped to the chair there. I shivered as I recalled the burning in my veins each time they injected me. The doctor watched closely and the guard moved forward a little.
"I'm okay."
"Yes you are."
He came up to my bed again and took the strap off my chest.
"Let's wait another minute, then we'll help you get up."
I haven't been off this bed in weeks. I smiled at the thought of walking around, even in the confines of this room still. When the guard and the doctor came forward, each took one of my arms to support me as I tested my stiff legs. My prosthesis hurt much more than I remembered and I yelled as I put weight on it.
"What is it?" He asked, frowning.
"Fake leg." I hissed, easing my weight back to my real leg.
"Are you not used to it or do you think something's wrong?"
"Don't know. I don't think it hurt that much before."
"I'll take a look at it."
They hoisted me back onto my bed but in a sitting position. The doctor examined the joint between skin and metal, then removed my leg to check my stump.
"I think you'll need to take it easy, there's some bruising here, I'm guessing you couldn't take it off for the time you were there?" I nod. "It's definitely going to take some time. We'll get you some crutches to ease some weight off your leg at first. Some training would be good eventually." I shiver again. I can't do training. There's too many triggers. Knives, guns, syringes, plastic, metal, white, bars, uniforms, people taller than me, people shorter than me, everything here is a trigger, and I'm barely controllable now. I can't train.
But train I did. They made me. I don't see how they're better than the Capitol, I'm a 17 year old hijacked loon that they're giving a gun and sending off into active combat. I guess I shouldn't say they, it's President Coin. They all think she's better than Snow, but I think she's worse because they think she's on their side.
She's not. She's on her own side.
I got out of the truck, muttering my identity under my breath. Or at least what I know of it.
"My name is Peeta Mellark. I'm 17 years old. I'm from District 12. I survived the Games twice. I'm a rebel soldier. My name is Peeta Mellark, I'm 17 years old. I'm from District 12. I survived the Hunger Games twice. I'm a rebel soldier."
I kept my voice low, to try to hide what I was doing from the rest of my new squad. They could probably still hear me mumbling. They had warned me that she was in it. I can't look up. I'll see her.
"My name is Peeta Mellark. I'm 17 years old. I'm from-"
"What's he doing here?" I finally looked up, realizing Gale was staring at me with blatant hostility along with everyone else. He was standing protectively in from of her, daring me with his eyes to attack her again.
They probably agree with me on one thing: this is the worst decision made during the entire war.
I felt something like a blow to my gut when I saw her arrow pointed straight at my chest, her face a mask of indifference to my death. I deserve it.
It's not like she hadn't sent emotional arrows straight through my heart before. I imagine the real thing can't hurt any more than those.
"My name is Peeta Mellark. I'm 17 years old. I'm from District 12. I survived the Games twice. I'm a rebel soldier. I was in love with Katniss Everdeen for 11 years." Was. I'm confused about what's going on now. My heart and brain have never disagreed more.
My heart longs to wrap her up in my arms and hold her close. My brain tells me she's not the girl I loved.
Boggs relieved me of my weapon. I'm grateful, I don't want to hurt any of these people, despite the judging and hate-filled looks they're giving me. I smile a bit when I see Finnick. He'll help me. He'll be on my side.