"I let it go. It's like swimming against the current. It exhausts you. After a while, whoever you are, you just have to let it go, and the river brings you home"

~Joanna Harris, Five Quarters Of The Orange

My fingers are tangled in the fake crimson hair as sweat drips down my spine. We don't even last a minute before the door crashes open, sending me to the floor with panic. I'm on my back, searching for some kind of weapon. But it isn't a tribute, or a mutt looming over me, but two Peacekeepers. "Ms. Mason, you have a visitor" one of them says.

I smooth my face, trying not to reveal the fear and embarrassment of being stark naked. I grab my shirt and pull it over my head, hoping they don't notice my hands shaking. The two Peacekeepers grab the man, allowing him to grab his clothes before pulling him out of the room. In the few seconds I have, I can at least pull on my underwear, so I'm clothed to the midthigh with my shirt when President Snow strolls into the room.

I freeze, a cold sweat suddenly arising on my skin. He looks into my eyes boldly, a serpentine smile on his lips. Finally, after a moment, he takes a seat on the couch opposite where I remain on the floor, frozen in terror. "Please, sit" he motions where my still nameless partner was lying just seconds before.

The smell of roses makes my stomach clench. Shakily, I get up, sinking into the couch, feeling the hatred and terror seeping through my pores. He doesn't speak as he leans back, pulling a silver device out of his pocket and setting it on the table. I don't know what it is, but it makes me nervous.

I try to stay calm, not to let him see how he gets to me, but I can't hold it in. "Why are you here?" I ask.

"Don't be rude, Johanna" he scolds, shaking his head. "Then again, I suppose you never were one for niceties, so why don't we set those aside? We need to have a serious conversation."

"We have nothing to talk about" I spit. Every muscle in my body is tensed, ready to run, to attack, to kill. There's nothing in this room of value. I could grab one of the wine glasses on the table between us and smash it into his face, but I don't think they'd stand up to the strain of murder.

"You think you have evaded me, Johanna. You have ignored my summons and requests; you have shown yourself to be quite stubborn. Even after the incident with your family, you still fight me."

My skin rises with goosebumps but I feel hot with sweat "and?"

"And I put up with it. For a time. It's economics, you see. Take a valuable commodity off the market for a time and its value increases. But my patience has run out." He leans forward, pressing a button on the silver device, that suddenly comes to life. It takes me a second to understand what I'm looking at. Images hang in the air between us, images of my family. "Your sister was never supposed to die" he says, gazing thoughtfully at the pictures of their charred bodies, hardly recognizable amongst the ash.

Snow stares at me, making me feel hot under his gaze. "What do you mean?"

"I had meant for her to survive. You see, I don't like to put all my cards in one hand. But things happen, and she got in the way. Unfortunately, she perished with your father and brother. She's a spitfire. I see where she gets it from. Tried to attack one of the Peacekeepers. You'll be relieved to know that it was a bullet to the head that ended her, not the flames." He switches the images on the screen from the charred bodies, to Lily. She lies on the ground, the side of her head blown open with blood and brains strewn around her. Her eyes are still open, and her blonde hair is dyed as crimson as the man's.

"I don't want to see that" I whisper, my voice sounding so small. The image makes me dizzy and I can feel the vomit rising in my throat. He's torturing me.

"But you need to" he leans back, sitting up straight now. "I want you back, Johanna. You remember the pain of losing them. You think there's nothing worse I could throw at you but I assure you that you're wrong. I know you. Derek, Finnick, you love them, and yes, I would hate to have them disposed of, but you don't want to see them in pain. Their pawns, Adele, Annie, they are now yours. Take one more step out of line and I will make sure they know whose fault it is their loved ones are dead. Do you understand?"

I don't say anything. I stare down at my hands in my lap, black dots swirling in my vision. I'm shaking with rage and, now, with fear.

The blow comes suddenly. He's leaned forward and hit me across the face so fiercely that it throws me to the side. He walks around the table, taking me by my hair and sitting me up. He sits down beside me, his hand still tightly wrapped in my hair.

He holds his face close to mine; So near that the stench of roses and blood is enough to make me gag. "You will listen to Johanna, no matter how much you don't want to."

"Why are you doing this to me?" my words are full of agony and grief. "I'll kill you, I'll kill you for this. I swear to God; one day you'll pay." My vision is swimming with fury and the pain in my head.

"I doubt that" his voice is cold. With his free hand he changes the images projected before us. "I hear you had a boyfriend? Vinicus Silva? What a shame you two broke up, what a shame… I wonder if you still have feelings for him?"

"No" I hiss, trying to pull against his grasp, but he holds me in place. Tears of rage rise behind my eyes but I won't let them fall.

"No? Then I hope it isn't too terribly sad for you to hear he had an accident this morning. I hate to inform you that he didn't make it." He pulls my head around, forcing me to watch the projection. It's Vinny, my Vinny. A troop of four Peacekeepers jump him, throwing him to the ground and beating him, pummeling him until there's little more than a bloody stump where his face should be.

"Stop it!" I scream, the tears breaking free and pouring down my face. "Stop it please!" I reach up, trying to pull his hand away but it just makes him grab my wrists and slam them back down. I can't watch this. I can't watch Vinny die.

"You did this. They could all be alive" he hisses into my ear.

He pulls me to my feet, my back held tightly against him so that I have nowhere to go. I want nothing more than to kill him, than to make him bleed, but I know better. There's surely a troop of Peacekeepers outside the door, I won't get any farther than making them laugh. I stand there, half catatonic in shock.

"Take care of your friends, Johanna" he says, making me pause. "Take care of Derek, and take care of our dear Finnick. So fragile they are…" My skin burns where he touches it.

"Don't think I won't hesitate to send them to their graves. Do not test my patience. I am not a forgiving man, and you can't afford another mistake."

He throws me down. I fall into the glass table, the force making it shatter beneath me. Glass cuts into my skin, a searing pain digging into my bare thigh. "I hope we've reached an understanding."

He strides out of the room, the door opening for him. I lie there for a minute, my head pounding. In the brief moment that I can see into the hall, the white uniforms of Peacekeepers stare back at me. But amidst them, is another face. Plutarch Heavensbee. I thought he was on our side. That's what Finnick said. Our eyes meet for only a second until the door slams closed and I'm left alone in the dark. It feels like someone shoved cotton into my ears. Even with the glass cutting into my skin, I won't dare move until I know he's gone.

Ten, fifteen minutes later, I finally sit up. Glass has dug into my palm and arm, but worst is my leg. Without pants, my skin was entirely exposed. The wine glasses dug into my thigh, leaving a huge bloody gash down my left leg. I don't bother getting dressed, I couldn't care less. Instead I stumble from the room, making my way towards the elevator, but I hardly make it a few steps before I collapse to the floor, sobs raking my body. My whole body trembles with the force of gagging. The images, the recordings, they're all swirling in my mind, refusing to leave me alone. I never wanted to see that. I've pictured it thousands of times but to actually see it… it's horrendous

"Johanna?" a voice calls. My head is buried between my knees, but I look up enough to see Brenda of all people coming towards me. She kneels in front of me, shock hanging her mouth open as she takes me in. Instead of running for help, she pulls a large shard of glass out of my thigh, tossing it to the floor behind her. "Come on" she murmurs, taking me by the arms and pulling me to my feet.

I grit my teeth together, trying to slow the gasping but I can't catch my breath. "Leave me alone" I hiss, but she ignores me. I try to push her away but she holds tight. She takes me to my room, for once a place I'm relieved to be. Gently, she sits me on my bed before getting some wet towels and pulls out as much of the glass as she can while I sit there, useless and sobbing. She even has to steady me as I get to my feet, vomiting everything in my stomach into the toilet.

The cut on my leg is definitely the worst of my injuries. Already there's a bruise forming on my cheekbone that makes my stomach clench. "Well, I think I got it all" she sighs. "It's going to hurt though." She stands up, brushing her hands on her pants and throwing the towels into the bathroom.

"You don't have to help me" I mumble as she goes to leave. "But thank you" I whisper, barely loud enough to hear.

Her face is kind as she looks at me. I would never have guessed our positions would have switched in just a few days' time. This is Snow's fault. We wouldn't have to take care of each other like this if it wasn't for Snow.

"Goodnight" I whisper, pulling my blankets up to my head and curling into a tight ball.

She wipes at her eyes, at tears I never saw, "goodnight Johanna."

"Please don't tell anyone" I choke out, another sob breaking forth.

"I won't if you won't" she puts her hand on the door knob, opening the door a few inches. "Next time I won't do this. I expect you to leave me on the floor, too. I can't get involved in whatever this is. I hope you understand"

"Never again" I agree. She shouldn't have helped me and I shouldn't have helped her. Friendships are dangerous, help is even worse.

She slips out of the door and I'm left alone.

I lie there in the dark, trying and failing to hold myself together.

I'm back in his grasp. Once again, I am Snow's plaything, to be bought and sold and enslaved at his whim. Once again, he wins, and I'm left shattered into a million pieces.

In the morning, as much as I want to stay in bed and never move again, I force myself to my feet. I shower with the hottest water I can stand, not moving until my skin is raw and I can't smell the roses or blood.

In the mirror, the bruise isn't bad, but it's noticeable. My palms have little cuts all over, where I pushed myself up. But my leg's cut is deep and angry. I breathe deeply, starring at it for a long time before digging clothes out of my closet.

Memories swirl around in my head as I ride the elevator down to the control room. The pictures of Lily, her head blown apart. The three of them, charred and blackened and unrecognizable. Then Vinny, beaten and bloody and utterly dead. They're dead, every last one of them. I shouldn't cry for them, or let them hurt me, but I can't help it. Snow knows how to beat me. I'm so goddamn transparent. If I want to survive, I have to follow his rules, which kills me even more. Because the fact is he won't just kill me. He'll destroy the whole goddamn world just to bring me to my knees.

He's smarter than I thought. Derek and Finnick are the two most important people in my life, maybe the only ones I actually care about anymore. He wouldn't kill them, not before killing everyone else. Even with Derek, people would be distraught. The Capitol loves their Victors.

When I get into the control room, most people do double glances. They think they know where the bruise came from, but they have no idea. It's Enobaria that stares, her eyes vicious and alive. "You want to stare?" I growl at her. "Don't hold back" I smile despite the tug of pain from the remaining pieces of glass. She makes a face like I'm crazy but I don't care.

Derek isn't here, which makes me feel better. But Finnick is. He's out of his chair and in front of me in seconds. "What happened?" he asks, his thumb brushing over my check. He knows I didn't go out last night.

I jerk my head at the door, turning and leading him into the hall. I know the cameras will catch what I tell him, but it's only the other Victors I don't want to hear.

"Snow came last night" I whisper, leaning my head against the wall.

"What?" Finnick hisses. I can see the fear light up in his eyes.

"He killed Vinny" I add, closing my eyes against the tears.

"Oh, Jo" he sighs. He pulls me against him, letting me breathe in the scent of soap and salt on his skin. "I'm so sorry."

"He got me back, Finnick" I choke against his shoulder, "I thought I was free." He strokes my hair, holding me ever tighter. "He threatened me, threw me into a table. I couldn't do anything."

"I'm so sorry" he whispers into my hair.

He holds me for a long time, long past when my breathing becoming slow and my heartbeat steady. I don't push him away; it's comforting being held.

"What did I miss?" I ask, finally breaking away from him.

He looks at me cautiously. "Twelve dead. Peeta got a kill."

I look back at him, surprised. "Well, then we'd better get back in there."