Katniss's POV
Tears dry soon, just like the blood on my forehead. So does Peeta's shirt by the time I slide out of his embrace. He stares at me as I wipe my damp eyelashes with the back of my hand. My throat feels parched and I long for water. I don't bother to mention it to Peeta though. Instead, I bring up more important issues.
"What do you think they'll do with us?" I ask him quietly, leaning against the wall of the cell.
Peeta folds his arms, joining me.
"I... don't know. My best hope is that they'll let us rot here. Instead of-of doing... other things..." he replies slowly, as if not wanting to bring it up.
In other things I assume he means torture. I swallow hard on my dry throat, trying to picture it. Johanna enters my mind. They say that is what's happening to her. I wonder if she's locked up near us. Or is she already... I force the thought away.
My eyes find Annie's, she is lying on her cot now, watching us curiously. I crawl up to the bars.
"Annie, what have-what have they-" I clear my throat, deciding to rephrase the question.
"What has it been like here?" I say. Annie tentively sits up, creating a crease between her eyebrows.
"Not good." She answers, tucking back her hair. I bite my lower lip.
"Were you the only one here? You know, before we came."
Annie shakes her head slightly.
"Johanna."
Johanna.
"Annie, could you tell me where she is now?" I press, not sure how in touch with reality she is.
Annie is quiet for a moment, thinking.
"They took her. Gone yesterday..." her eyes follow down the hallway.
"Oh..." I glance back at Peeta. There is concern in his blue eyes.
Gone.
To where? She won't know.
I have the urge to ask her more about what's happened to her here, but I am afraid it will upset her. So I give her a nod and slide back over to Peeta on the cot.
I take his hand for security. For I don't know what to do right now. A mixture of wanting to scream, cry, and laugh dwells within me. My mind is trying to focus on too many things right now.
I stare blankly at the white tile. Has Thirteen been bombed? Is my family dead? When will Snow torture me? Will he kill me? Are we going to die here? Will Peeta be tortured? Will I stop it from happening? What if I can't stop it from happening?
I clench Peeta's hand until I'm sure that I'm hurting him. He remains silent, side glancing at me every once in a while. I think to what he said to me when I entered the cell.
... he wanted me to get you pregnant. Even if you agreed to it, I knew it would be wrong in saying yes...
It's true. At the end of the day I probably would have agreed to it. But Peeta knew that's not what I wanted. I never wanted to have a life like that, especially not in the certain circumstances. He believed that my free will, my choice mattered more than anything else. In Peeta's eyes, he saw a way to make it work. A way that of course involved sacrificing himself for me. But that backfired. I see how it did. Snow doesn't think the way Peeta thinks. There is no escape under Snow's authority. Even when you find the tiniest crack to slip under.
Even though it didn't work, the fact that Peeta did it for me. The fact that he saw a way to protect me and my family as well as safeguarding my happiness. This choice of his he knew very well would result in torture or worse. It would have been much easier to say yes. I'm sure he'd be happy with the overall situation, but then again he wouldn't. Not if I wasn't happy... I look over to him. I never realized how much he loved me until now.
It isn't long before our friends the Peacekeepers enter again. They march to our cell and swing it open. Without saying a word they both yank me to my feet, my hand being snatched out of Peeta's. They handcuff me silently and push me out of the cell. Peeta, as usual, protests.
"What are you doing with her?"
"Entering her into the system." One muffled voice of the Peacekeeper to my left says.
"What does that mean?" Peeta proceeds.
They ignore him.
We advance down the hall, my socks sliding on the tile. I look over my shoulder to see Peeta's hands clenching the cell bars, knuckles white. Before we reach the metal door, the familiar bag is thrown over my head.
Stubbling, I keep up between the two gripping my arms. The bag comes off soon after and I find myself it what seems to be a shower room. The Peacekeepers throw me a stark white gown similar to hospital wear and order me to strip and clean myself, shutting the door behind themselves and locking it.
I glance around the room for cameras. Two sit obviously in each corner of the ceiling. I glare at them as I pull off Peeta's shirt and untie my pajama pants. Going under a faucet, I turn the knob. Ice cold water splashes over my face and soaks my hair. I finish up as quickly as I can, hastily pulling on the equally freezing gown that barely reaches my knees. I decide to keep the socks, daring the people behind the cameras to yell at me through some speaker to strip those as well.
The Peacekeepers re-enter and take my clothes, dumping them down a disposal near the door. We then enter another room, dim with a single chair that I am forced into. One Peacekeeper slips on latex gloves and orders me to hold out my right arm. I tentatively do and he swabs my wrist.
Pulling out a long rod from a lit container behind him, he presses a white hot brand into my skin. I shriek in agony as he pulls it away, revealing the Capital's symbol. The official seal of ownership. I blink back tears as they pull me up. Almost hearing the singing sounds of my flesh, I gag.
When I am thrown into the cell once again, Peeta has disappeared. My eyes widen as I look back at the exiting Peacekeepers. I find Annie in her usual place.
"Annie, where's Peeta? Where did they take him?"
"Oh don't worry lovebird... he's going through the same as you... should be back soon." A hoarse whisper comes from my left. Lying on her side and picking at an oozing scab from her elbow is a soaking wet, bald, pale, and terribly injured woman. Her bloodshot eyes find mine.
"Johanna..." I begin.
"Mockingjay, we meet again-oh but you don't know your that yet. My bad... guess it doesn't matter if you won't be helping with the rebellion anyway." She turns into her bloody elbow to hack. Her coughing echoes down the hall.
You'd think her a completely different person if you couldn't tell who she was by her condescending voice. Nearly a skeleton, her dripping wet gown hangs off of her. Oddly shaped cuts and red burns pepper her gray skin and face, which looks that of a corpse. I resist the urge to recoil, to look away and hide my face. I have never seen a human being worse off.
"I see you've earned your... first mark," Johanna snickers, peering at my blistering wrist. My gaze flickers down to it, but I quickly look away.
"Makes sense. If we'll be under their control until who knows how long." I reply holding my chin strong so she can't tell how much it actually hurts.
Johanna smirks.
"No need to act brave. I've got one, too." She points to her same forarm. It blends incredibly well with all of her other injuries. I don't see how she lasted this long. She should have been dead a long time ago. It seems that only her amazingly strong will and fight has kept her going.
With the banging of the cell door, Peeta returns in an outfit and brand identical to mine. Johanna snickers when she catches the scene of us hugging.
"Peeta."
Peeta looks over my shoulder and sees her. He gives a curt nod, his eyebrows raised.
"Good to see you alive." With the same demeanor as mine, he looks over her gruesome appearance.
"Snow's working at getting what he needs, that's the only reason while I'm still here." she answers, her mouth forming into a thin line.
"And since Thirteen has already failed with letting you two end up here, I suppose he won't have to work at it for long..." she laughs yet again.
"How sweet you two ended up in the same cell. Guess the love story never dies in Snow's eyes."
