If you can dream and not make dreams your master
If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster,
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools...
Voices. It seems the only sense that isn't completely gone from Johanna is sound. But she can't discern between voices in her inner monologue, her dreams, or reality. The sounds drift in and out of her consciousness like clouds on a windy day. Katniss. Finnick. Mrs. Everdeen. Prim. Holly. Claudius Templesmith. Haymitch. Effie. Gale. Peeta. Her parents. Snow.
In what was later revealed to be two days later, Johanna finally manages to keep her eyes open for more than a few seconds. The room she's in - a sterile white hospital room with blinking and beeping machines - makes her frown. It's not like the hospitals in Thirteen. They must still be in the Capitol. What a relief not to have missed the finale, Johanna thinks with a sneer.
She becomes aware of two things: one, a tingling pain at the base of her skull, and two, the warm feeling of weight on the right side of her body. She lifts her left arm, slowly tracing the source of the pain in the back of her head. She doesn't feel anything there, and when she uses a little pressure nothing happens. As her vision focuses, she looks to her right. Katniss. Her lips move into a painful smile, and she draws out her tongue to wet her lips. She pushes hair from the sleeping girl's face, revealing an ugly set of burn scars on her cheek. Her brows knit in concern.
Alarmed, her gaze moves down Katniss' body where other burn scars reveal themselves. Then she remembers the explosion. Gale. A painful lump forms her throat as she watches him die again in her brain. Watching his lifeless body fold to the ground like a discarded dish rag. His grey eyes staring into hers as she fell against the pavement. She is suddenly very grateful for the morphling in her arm. It isn't much, but it's enough to keep her from dreaming, clearly.
Katniss stirs against her and Johanna quickly wipes the few tears that had pooled in the corner of her eyes. The younger girl yawns, wrapping her arm tighter around Johanna's abdomen, shifting so she leans her head on Johanna's chest. "Comfortable?" Johanna asks, her voice a smoky whisper.
The younger girl jerks her head up, grey eyes searching Johanna's face. Johanna smiles, placing a small kiss on Katniss' forehead. She breathes a sigh of relief, nuzzling her head into the crook of Johanna's neck. "You're finally awake," she murmurs against Johanna's pale skin.
"How long have I been out?"
Katniss looks over at the clock. "About 49 hours, from what they tell me. I've been here only for the last 35."
Only, Johanna thinks with a smirk. "What happened?"
Katniss lets out a shaky breath. "The parachutes were a trap. They exploded as they landed, killing just about everyone in the medic's area. It was essentially the rebels' endgame."
"To kill children?" Johanna asks incredulously. "I don't think that's what we signed up for."
Katniss nods, not moving from her position on Johanna's chest. "The Capitol surrendered immediately. Coin is preparing for Snow's execution as we speak. Apparently we get the honors." Johanna raises her eyebrow. "Her words, not mine."
A silence falls between them and Johanna shifts uncomfortably. "I'm sorry about Gale." Johanna feels the wetness of Katniss' tears against her skin and her heart clenches. She should have done more. Reacted faster. He should have enjoyed a life after this. Johanna did not live with regrets - not since winning her Games, at least. But at that moment, she regretted every mean thought she had and mean word she had said to him.
"He knew the risks," Katniss says finally. "Everyone did."
"Who else?" Johanna manages in a whisper. Katniss doesn't answer. Johanna clenches her jaw. "Who else?" she repeats in a much clearer voice.
"Finnick." Johanna swallows the lump in her throat, but the tears fall freely from her eyes anyway. "Castor and Pollux, too. Peeta and Holly made it out. They weren't near the explosion."
"Why did you leave me?" Johanna asks, her voice thick with sadness. "I looked over - before the blast - and you were off somewhere."
"I thought I saw Prim." The older girl looks down at her and Katniss shakes her head. "I did see Prim. I got to her just before the parachutes went off."
"Is she - did she -"
"She's okay. She's in the intensive care unit still, but my mother is there. She says she's got a strong chance. Better than strong. Almost 100 percent." Johanna closed her eyes in relief. But Finnick. There was a stretch of time where he had been her only friend. The only person she could consider her family. And now all she would have are her memories of him. His sea-foam green eyes, his almost Adonis-like skin and physique, his self-deprecating humor, his unparalleled ability to love. She would never hear his laugh, feel his arms wrap around her, see him dive into the water. He was gone. Just like her parents; a distant memory that was too painful to recall, but too important to forget.
"So what's next? We kill Snow and then go home?"
Katniss shakes her head. "I don't know. Coin told me he's still alive, in captivity in the mansion somewhere. She said she'd make a public execution available, if that's what we wanted."
Johanna snorts. "Her final act of mercy on us before we finally see how she really feels about the leftover Victors."
When President Coin presents them with their choice, it's Peeta who is outraged first. Hold a final Hunger Games using only the Capitol's children, or wipe out the remaining citizens all together.
"Are you serious? This is exactly why we rebelled!" Peeta yells, standing up from his seat. Johanna takes him in for the first time in a while - his skin is burned, but not badly like Katniss or herself, but enough to be noticed. His limp is a little worse, but he props himself up with the table so as to appear stronger. "Absolutely not. I vote no."
Coin nods. "Okay, so that's one vote for no."
"I vote no with Peeta," Annie says quietly, running her fingers through her dark auburn hair. "And so would Finnick if he were here."
"But he's not here," Johanna mutters, "because Snow's people killed him." Annie winces and Johanna rolls her eyes. Her patience for Annie is thin as her grief is still too raw. "I vote yes. Snow has a granddaughter."
"I vote yes with Johanna."
Johanna glares over at Enobaria. "Don't even say my name. Who even let you in here?" Johanna looks to Coin. "Seriously, did you let her in here? She should be dead, too."
Coin looks unamused. "She was part of the Mockingjay deal. Katniss' cooperation in exchange for full immunity for all the former Victors." Johanna looks over to Katniss who stares down at the table. She looks back to Enobaria, who has a self-satisfied smirk on her face.
"Don't look so smug I'll kill you anyway," Johanna seethes, crossing her arms. Enobaria scoffs and looks away.
"So that's two votes yes, two votes no."
"I vote no as well," Beetee says, adjusting his glasses.
"I can't believe you guys," Peeta says. "After all the Games did to us. How they ruined us. I can't believe you'd wish that on a bunch of children who had nothing to do with this."
Holly pushes her glasses up onto her hair. "I vote yes." Peeta stares at her with wide eyes. "I'm sorry, Peeta. you're right, it has ruined us. But I'll give up twenty-three kids in exchange for everyone else in this city. They don't all deserve to die."
"I vote yes as well," Katniss says finally. Johanna takes her hand on the table and squeezes it. She smiles briefly at her, then returns to gaze to Coin.
Haymitch shrugs, taking a long pull of his flask. "I vote with the Mockingjay. Yes."
President Coin nods. "So it's decided." Her steely gaze turns to Katniss and Johanna. "Have you decided how you'd like to proceed?"
"Yes."
...
The angry crowd pulsates around them as Johanna and Katniss approach Snow. The man who once commanded rooms just with his eyes is reduced to being tied to a pole, beaten with eyes sunken in. He looks older than Johanna remembers. No more Capitol medicine keeping him fresh any longer. He looks as haggard as she remembered him from her time in the Capitol being held prisoner.
Katniss stands a few feet away, her bow drawn and arrow pointed directly at Snow's throat. Johanna approaches the man, circling him like a bird of prey on a fallen creature. "You're not afraid of death, Snow, are you?" Johanna asks, glaring down at him. He shakes his head. "Of course you aren't. No use in torturing you. You have nothing to live for. Your children are dead, and your granddaughter?" His eyes flick up to her in a small show of anger. She smirks. "I'll kill her next," Johanna whispers into his ear.
Instead of being angry, Snow laughs. "Johanna, how long has Katniss been stringing you along for? Has it been since her first arena performance? Or since your dalliance in my bedroom?" Johanna laughs, but he continues. "Your speech for my benefit was quite moving. However, I know that your memories did not come back simply with Katniss' love," he says with derision. "That's now how it works. But think now, Johanna. Can you remember every moment of Katniss in your life?"
Johanna stops walking and looks at him. Her brain works quickly, but it hits her hard in the chest when she realizes ...she can. She remembers everything. No more headaches. No more missing pieces. It's all there. Her volunteering, her train ride, Games, Tour, Quarter Quell. Everything comes flooding back into her senses, but with a sinister familiarity. As if it was never really gone.
Snow chuckles again, coughing as he does so. "I wonder, Miss Mason, who told them to reverse the procedure, hm? Who violated you now?"
Johanna comes around behind the older man, giving Katniss a nod with her head. She brandishes a knife, grabs Snow by the chin, and digging deep into Snow's throat, slices him from ear to ear. She lets him go, her hands wet with his blood as his body hangs forward, choking.
With precision Katniss lifts her bow, sending the arrow flying deep into Coin's chest. The force knocks her backward, folding dead onto the balcony above the two Victors. Former Peacekeepers storm the two of them, the crowd dispersing in a panic. But when Katniss finally meets Johanna's gaze, there is no triumph there. Only confusion. Disappointment. And the glare of betrayal.
In the days of confusion that follow, Commander Paylor is given the title of President of Panem. An advisory committee is made up of other rebel soldiers, some former Victors and other prominent members of the country. Plutarch devises a system of representatives of each District - Peeta volunteers for Twelve, Holly for Seven. The others are practically chosen at random. But it seems hopeful.
As Katniss waits to hear if she will stand trial for Coin's murder, Johanna doesn't wait for her. She flies back to Twelve alone. Alone with her thoughts. Alone with her fresh memories, alone with her grief, alone with her betrayal.
The Victor's Village is practically untouched, Johanna notes as she walks through the decimated Twelve. She continues through the town, watching as new construction workers from all over Panem begin reconstructing her old home. After winding through what was left of the Hob, Johanna finally makes it back to her childhood home. Surprisingly, most of it is still standing. A few broken windows, one wall that's half caved-in, but otherwise still livable.
Johanna walks around the side, coming into the backyard she hadn't stepped foot in since returning from her Games. It seemed like another lifetime ago. When she was just an innocent teenager, plucked from a life of relative happiness and borderline poverty, into a death trap which only had a venomous white light at the end.
She was not even a shell of the same person she had been then. She was entirely changed. Her personality, her looks, her future. Everything was changed. Lost in her thoughts she found herself lighting the forge, the familiar smell of burning wood filling her nostrils. Her father's old tools were still laying around, left haphazardly in the yard. It was eerie how untouched it looked - as if any minute he'd come out of the back door, handing her a cup of cider and telling her a story of their metallurgic heritage over the flames.
What would he say, if he could see her now? Would he approve of the woman she had become? Probably not. He never would have approved of her sexual promiscuity, of her idleness when she visited Finnick, never of the excess she had indulged in after winning. He was a hard-working man. He appreciated people who never gave up, who put everything they had into what they did. Johanna did that, but she put her energies into destructive habits.
Almost without her consent, Johanna began slamming a leftover piece of iron with a hammer. The bright sparks flew from the metal, soaring into the sky and landing at Johanna's feet. Working at the forge had always helped her clear her thoughts when she was younger. She and her father would get into a silent rhythm, only broken when her mother would call them in to eat.
Katniss had them do a reverse procedure on her. She had let them dig inside her brain again, forcibly placing her memories back into her brain. The thought that Katniss would allow them to cut her open again made her sick. She was positively revolted. Maybe Snow had been playing mind games with her, but it all seemed too plausible. Why not? If it can be reversed, why not do so painlessly while she was asleep?
Because it was wrong. It was wrong of her to make that decision for them. For her. Johanna hadn't been in control of much since meeting Katniss. She wasn't in control of her emotions - everything was how it would affect Katniss, how she made her feel. She wasn't in control of her heart - it was in Katniss' hands, whether she liked it or not. And her future, well, that was well-deposited in Katniss as well. But her memories - the one thing she was feeling like she controlled, were not in her grasp anymore. Sure, they were in her mind, she owned them. And she remembered them just as she had before - the feeling of skin, the gasps of pleasure, the soothing words of love - but it was all tainted because she hadn't been able to choose their existence.
Of course, she would have consented in a moment. To be able to remember all of what she felt for Katniss and why, it was all she had wanted since her talk with Holly. The blonde girl knew how deep their connection was, and Johanna finally had realized it, too. Remembering that moment made Johanna cringe. She had practically attacked Holly, forced herself upon her. Not that the blonde had objected, but only because her desire and love for Johanna was worn very close to the surface. Johanna knew that. She had exploited it.
She definitely owed the blonde an apology. Just another guilt to hang on her clothesline of idiot moves.
Her body ached to be with Katniss again, in spite of her anger. She had spent her time in Thirteen feeling like a boat without oars. No, that wasn't accurate. She felt like someone had cleaved her entirely in half, leaving her to wander aimlessly, looking for the missing parts. Never once feeling wholly herself.
But now she had it. She remembered Katniss' love for her, and hers for Katniss. The deep longing she had felt watching Katniss play pretend with Peeta. The jealousy at their "engagement."
The engagement. She had proposed to Katniss. What an utter fucking fool she had been. Exploiting Katniss' feelings for a stupid propo. That in the end, probably made no difference. And she knew it, somewhere, in the back of her mind. She could have read that script and just been done with it. But part of her ...well, all of her, had wanted to. Every word she spoke was true. It rang with clarity to her now, even though it had been muddled then. She could live one hundred lifetimes and not deserve an ounce of Katniss' adoration. Even this (what Johanna thought) to be a betrayal, had evidently been for her benefit. Not for Katniss'. The girl would have loved her anyway, even if the memories never came back. It had been for Johanna. So she wouldn't feel any more pain.
Now she felt triply stupid. For doubting Katniss, for leaving her there to face her fate alone, and for letting goddamn Snow make her think ill of the younger girl.
She began to work with more purpose at her creation. Night was falling steadily, but Johanna didn't mind. The cold never bothered her, not with the heat of the forge and the warmth of determination. She worked nearly all night, only pausing to retrieve stashed-away things she had hidden as a child. Her father would have tiny bits of precious materials - gems, gold, rare metals - and Johanna would greedily store them away. She'd take them out on a day when she was particularly melancholy, entranced by their beauty. Katniss had once told her that Peeta had a weakness for beautiful things. He did, and so did Johanna. Which is why they both fell so hard for Katniss.
Katniss sat nervously in an armchair at the Capitol, brushing her hands over her skin. The doctors had cleared up the rest of her burn marks, leaving her skin as flawless as it had been when her prep team had attended her. A few deep brown scars tainted her skin, but they were from various cuts and years of hunting. The burns had receded.
Her mind could barely process the words coming out of Plutarch's mouth. "Treason," "mental instability," "pardoned," were the only ones she had been able to grasp. Luckily Haymitch was there with her, nodding his head in understanding. Her look of utter confusion was glaringly apparently and Haymitch sighed. "You're being let go. No punishment. No jail."
Katniss blinked hard in surprise. No jail? She had almost come to be relieved by the prospect. Being in jail meant never having to hear the disappointment in Johanna's voice when she cut into her for authorizing the surgery. She had done it for Johanna's benefit, but she was sure that Johanna didn't take it that way.
She had violated her. She had let the doctors undo the damage of the tracker-jacker venom. Hell, she had practically almost killed one of them to make sure they had gone through with it. No one was in any position to argue with the country's "mockingjay" and they had consented to do the surgery while Johanna was still recovering from her burns and her bullet wound to the shoulder. But she had taken the choice from the other girl.
It, admittedly, had been partly selfish. Her life had been so thoroughly upended by losing Gale and almost losing Prim, that the thought of continuing to not have Johanna made her want to pop a nightlock pill and be done with it. Thinking on Gale and Finnick and their prematurely shortened lives, she knew better than to selfishly take her own.
Gale. Her grief had been tempered by Prim's desperate life-saving attempts when Haymitch had let her know. But when they had settled and she had found Johanna after her surgery, she allowed herself to grieve. To cry and shake with anger and the mixture of emotions that came with unfair deaths. Her mother poured all her strength into getting Prim better, and eventually into running the hospital with a homespun authority that nobody questioned.
Nobody had known exactly what happened. Only that they found Gale dead, flanked by two dead Peacekeepers. Johanna had been found in front of him, her already scarred back badly burned and a gaping bullet hole in her shoulder. The bullet had penetrated her muscles, but not hit any vital organs. A few hours of surgery later the bullet was removed, the tendons repaired.
But while the older girl slept, Katniss had wondered out loud of anything could be done about Johanna's missing memories. And of course, one doctor there had been present during Johanna's original surgery.
It was a tricky surgery, but not life-threatening. They had explained (in an excessive amount of detail) how in Johanna's sleep, her memories would resurface. But the tracker-jacker venom inserts itself when the brain reaches for her long-term memory, stalling the process. Unable to encode, the brain grabs any nearby memory and inserts them improperly in its place. They placed Johanna in a dream-like state, almost comatose, and drew out memories of Katniss. When the venom emerged from within her brain fluid to intercept, it was stopped by their antidote.
They worked on her for hours until they believed all the venom was gone. Successful they drew Johanna back into a normal sleep. "She might have a few leftover memories to sort, but there should be no issue in retrieving them."
In spite of her doctor's objections, Katniss stayed the next entire day with Johanna until she had awoken. Johanna had held her with such familiarity, such love, that Katniss knew the surgery had been successful. But she had been so blinded by her joy that she didn't even mention it.
Snow did. She had heard him, even over the crowd, egging Johanna on. And the look in Johanna's eyes when she gave her the cue to take out Coin as they had decided earlier, was fraught with disappointment and betrayal. How could you? She had seemed to ask.
Because I'm a selfish brat.
...
Before Katniss could truly understand what was going on, she was being escorted onto a hovercraft bound for Twelve. Johanna had (rightfully so) left without her. Though she did feel a twinge of indignity that she hadn't waited for her.
She thinks you raped her mind, Katniss reminded herself. She had no right to feel indignant. Maybe Johanna would be forgiving. Maybe she would understand her motives. But probably not. The older woman was not known for her humility and patience. She was brash and impatient, things Katniss had come to sort of adore about her. However, in this instance, it would possibly be their undoing.
When they landed in the field in Twelve, her stomach moved with butterflies. How was Johanna going to receive her? Would she even be there to greet her? What if she hadn't even gone back to Twelve at all? Maybe she went to Four to grieve Finnick with Annie. Katniss resigned herself to that loneliness. She deserved to be left to stew in her own regret after what she had done.
Even if she had been pardoned by Paylor, she would be going to jail anyway, wouldn't she? Not a physical one in the Capitol, but a metaphoric one in her mind. A jail where she wouldn't be deprived of food or water. But instead deprived of what she actually desired to live: Johanna.
A/N: Kind of a filler chapter, but necessary. Thank you all for the reviews and the new follows! I hope you're enjoying the story as much as I'm enjoying writing it. It's been a blast. I may not have time for updates in the next few days, but two within almost 24 hours should help, right? Chapter title taken from Rudyard Kipling's "If."
Apologies for any spelling errors...I'll go through it more thoroughly over the weekend.
Ah, and I had no intention of killing Prim. I already broke my own heart killing Gale and Finnick. Sooo you're welcome. :)