Sorry that I haven't updated in so long! I've been very busy with work, my grandpa had a heart attack (he's fine, thankfully) and then I had to put my dog down so I've been rather unmotivated. Thank you for all the support!

"Do not let your fire go out, spark by irreplaceable spark in the hopeless swamps of the not-quite, the not-yet, and the not-at-all. Do not let the hero in your soul perish in lonely frustration for the life you deserve and have never been able to reach. The world you desire can be won. It exists… it is real… it is possible… it's yours"

~Ayn Rand, Atlas Shrugged

Of all people to find me sitting in the hall, feeling sorry for myself, I don't expect Finnick to round the corner. He looks startled for a moment but his face quickly settles into his normal expression. I watch him hesitate, but when he walks towards me, I have to look away. I don't want his pity.

He stops beside me, looking at me before taking a seat on the floor beside me. "What are we doing?" he asks. "Not much of a view" he waves at the plain white walls.

"If you're going to be sarcastic you can leave" I say, rolling my eyes. My chest clenches slightly; of course I don't want him to leave.

Instead of a snarky comment or joke, he scoots closer to me, wrapping his arm over my shoulders. "I'm sorry, Jo. I know I-"

I raise my hand, cutting him off. "No, no Finnick don't. I already told you. No apologies."

His hand tightens on my shoulder, pulling me close to him. "Okay, fine. I was coming to find you, you know. I'm not trying to ignore you. It's just Annie…"

"You don't have to explain. Do what you have to do, Finnick."

"But I do" he insists. "You're my best friend, Johanna."

It's like a cord being pulled tight in my chest. There isn't enough morphling to completely wipe away my emotions. I open my mouth, then close it again. I want to say something but I don't know what. The silence makes me tense, as if I'm supposed to be bracing for something.

"Don't hit me" Finnick says after some time. I furrow my eyebrows, turning to look at him, but he jumps in before I can ask. "But I'm sorry. For leaving you."

"Yeah?" I ask, turning away again. A lump has formed in my throat. "It's not your fault." Be it Annie, or the arena, my being alone has nothing to do with him.

"Still" Finnick sighs. "The way everyone's been talking… they make it sound like we made all the wrong choices."

"Do you think that?" I whisper.

"I don't know. I really don't."

I sigh, nodding in agreement. We fall back into silence. We've never been this serious with each other. We never apologize. We joke and we say the most inappropriate thing for the situation. Everything is so different and it feels so wrong.

At some point I get to my feet, choking back a grimace as I do so. Finnick has to go back to Annie, and I'm ready to curl up in bed and sleep for the next few hours; I never seem to be able to get enough sleep.

Miles wakes me, to try to get me talking and remind me how completely safe I am. It still makes me cringe and sets me on edge. He at least has the common sense to clear out before I punch him in the face. Even without saying anything, his questions and commentary leaves me feeling terrible. My chest seems to sink in, pressing against my heart and lungs so that breathing becomes an effort instead of a reflex.

The doctors come back at some point, only to cut back on my morphling even more. I argue, but it only seems to strength their resolve. I clench my jaw and lean back against the pillows, letting them talk away at me while I stare at a spot on the wall, giving them no more attention that I'd give to ant. As soon as they leave, I go back to Katniss. She doesn't say a word when I pull the morphling from her arm. It's all I can do to keep a straight face and not fall on the floor to scream until my throat bleeds.

I steal from Katniss for days. I know she's annoyed by it, but she won't say a word; I deserve it more than her and she knows ir. It's infuriating, seeing how everyone dotes over her while I get my drugs cut back even further and harassed by Miles. There's one afternoon that a camera crew comes in to film Katniss doing nothing; walking around, talking, recovering. The whole time I sit cross legged on my bed, and not a single head turns towards me.

"Why does that bother you? Katniss getting all the attention?" Miles asks me. "Isn't that what you want? To be left alone?"

"Get out" I say. He doesn't move. "Get out!" I scream, grabbing a plastic cup from the table next to me and hurling it at him.

I lie back, my bare head cold against the cool hospital air. I just want to sleep, but I ache too much to even close my eyes.

Finnick comes by in the evening, a goofy, stupid grin on his face. It's hard to be in so much pain when he's this happy. "What?" I grumble, sitting up against the headboard. Finnick sits on the bed by my hip, making me scoot over to make room for him. I make a face, but I don't mind. We've all but slept on top of each other the last three years. "What are you so happy about?" I repeat.

He beams at me; the first truly happy expression I've seen him make it a long time. Even seeing it lifts the pressure from my chest. "Annie and I are getting married."

"You're…" I say, my sentence trailing off. "You're getting married? Here?"

Finnick shrugs, still beaming. "Why not? It's not ideal but…" he shakes his head.

"Congratulations" I say flatly. I'm still vaguely under the effects of Katniss's morphling, numbing the happiness I should probably be feeling.

I don't miss the smile fall from Finnick's face, or the way the corners of his lips tug down and a crease forms between his eyes. "Should I not have told you?" his voice is serious, not judgmental, but earnest.

"No" I say, leaning forward. "Of course you should've told me. I'm happy for you, for both of you. It's perfect" I smile at him, a gesture that hurts more than it should. "You deserve it" my voice cracks. I groan internally, trying to blink back the hot tears burning against my eyelids.

"Jo I didn't mean-"

"No, don't do that" I say, wiping the single tear off my cheek. "Don't you dare apologize. I don't have any fucking control over myself anymore so just ignore… this" I wave my hand at my face.

He hugs me, giving me an excuse to hide my face from him. I am happy for him; and for Annie. They deserve to be happy, to have some semblance of a normal life. I don't know why there's a crushing ache around my gut thinking about the two of them, smiling and laughing, but I know it's not fair.

"When?" I ask, swallowing back to the lump in my throat.

"A few days. Plutarch wants to turn it into a propo to show Snow that we're not sulking or whatever. Honestly, I don't care, so long as I'm married to Annie by the end of it."

"I'll be there" I say, forcing myself to smile at them. "I'm a selfish bitch, I know that, but really, Finnick, I'm so happy for you. Make Snow furious, will you?"

He laughs, and agrees.

I would have thought I'd see him even less, having a wedding to plan, but it seems like he's spending every spare moment with me. If I'm not leeching away at Katniss's morphling, or being lectured by Miles, I'm talking mindlessly with Finnick. He's so excited that it's hard to feel bad around him. He's practically giddy, almost childlike.

Annie, it turns out, is much the same. She shows up at the foot of my bed, cheeks flushed pink like she'd been running. "Finnick's not here" I tell her, peering at her curiously as I pick at the edge of my sheets.

"Oh, I know" she says, looking just as unsure as I feel. We have a strange sort of connection for two people that haven't had more than a single conversation. Finnick is probably the most important person to the both of us, and yet we hardly know each other.

With the lack of a response, she seems to lose some of her nerve. Her eyes wander aimlessly, seemingly to move in an out of focus. I peer at her for a moment, once again shocked by the thought that someone so seemingly weak and unhinged was every strong enough to make it out of The Hunger Games.

"Annie?" I ask. Her attention snaps back almost immediately.

She ducks her head, cheeks flushing. "I don't mean to bother you…"

I wave my hand with a scoff. "Yeah, I'm very busy."

She doesn't seem to understand I'm being sarcastic until I look back at her, nodding for her to keep going. She takes a deep breath, looking nervous and uncomfortable. But I guess that's how she always looks.

"I just… I wanted to thank you."

I raise my eyebrows, not knowing what she could possible want to thank me for. "What did I do?"

"Finnick. You protected him." She says it so simply, like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

I bite into my lip, nodding once. "I was just following the plan."

"That's not what I mean."

"No?"

She shakes her head, her fingers rubbing together like it pains her to be talking to me. "Not just the Games… but everything. He talks about you a lot. You helped him. More than I think you know. So I want to thank you."

I sigh, looking down at my hands. "You don't need to thank me" I mutter, not looking up.

"I do" she insists. "He cares about you. Loves you, I think"

I don't mean to laugh, but I do. Not because I think she's lying but because the notion is just so foreign. I don't like going into details like that. I needed Finnick and he needed me. That was it.

Breathing slowly, I look up at Annie. "He loves you, too."

Something like a smile spreads on her lips. "I know he does."

Silence settles between us. We look at each other, each with similar thoughts going through our minds. After a few minutes, I sigh, shifting on my bed to better face Annie. "Congratulations, by the way. On the wedding."

This time her smile is wide and her eyes are bright. "It was Finnick's idea."

I let out a curt laugh and nod. "Of course it was. Only he'd be dumb enough to propose in a place like this."

This time I smile back at her. Her laugh is airy, like she's never heard the sound before. "Yeah, he's… eccentric."

"Crazy more like."

She smiles, though it falls slightly as she considers some thought. I watch her cautiously, realizing that it's not quite so awkward anymore.

After a moment, she looks back up at me. "You'll come, won't you?"

I scoff. "You wouldn't be able to stop me."

She smiles, not staying around much longer. When she finally leaves and I'm left alone, I'm surprised that a small smile rests on my lips.

Miles tries to threaten me by saying if I don't talk, I might not be cleared to attend the wedding. I know it's a bluff – if only because Finnick would go on a rampage. Not to mention, Plutarch wants to show all Snow's victims having fun. In the end, I win the battle, and am given a set of plain clothes to change into.

Despite the fact that I truly am happy for Finnick and Annie, I've chewed my fingernails down to the bone just thinking about the wedding. I'm such a terrible person. All I can think about is myself, my swelling loneliness, and how I'll never get to feel that kind of happiness ever again. There was a point, the year after I won my Games, where I was able to love, and smile, and laugh. I had my family, I had Vinny. When they left, they took me with them. I don't understand. How did I ever get so bitter?

Still, I can't help but smile at Finnick, standing in front of the few hundred guests, watching with sad and happy eyes. So little good has happened that it's refreshing. The smiles on their faces are touching. They never thought this was going to happen, yet here they are, professing their love for each other despite everything happening in the world above.

I am so happy for them.

They kiss, and thus they are officially married. People cheer and sing and dance and drink cider and juices. People cluster in the center of the room, dancing a dance I've never seen before. I take a few steps back, hovering on the edge of the room with my arms crossed over my chest. Dancing isn't my thing. It never was.

They say it's small but I don't know if I've ever seen so many people together, dancing and smiling and… having fun. Nevertheless, something pulls at the center of my stomach that feel strangely like nostalgia. I don't know what it is, but I suppose it's the happiness, the feeling that, just for a short while, there's nothing to worry about. The only time I've ever felt it before wasn't with nearly so many people, instead there were maybe twenty of us.

It was Lily's ninth birthday. For weeks she had been talking about it and she wanted nothing more than to have a real birthday party. While we didn't have much money, or any at all, Vinny, Cam, and I did everything we could to throw a real "party." Mostly it involved getting her the gift of a small doll and an actual, tiny cake. Lily was thrilled, but it wasn't the gift or food that made it great.

Between my family and Vinny's, a handful of Lily's friends from school all came to celebrate with her. People were singing and playing music and dancing. Everyone was so happy. I remember sitting with Vinny, watching at least ten nine-year-olds dancing between trees with chocolate and berries in their hands. It was impossible not to smile. It didn't matter that I had no idea how we were going to eat the next week or that Peacekeepers had just arrested their fourth person this week to be sent to the Capitol and turned into an avox.

A smile is pulling at my lips when I suddenly snap out of my daydream. Those who haven't joined the lines, are clapping and singing and rocking back and forth; except me of course. I watch the crowd silently, observing from the shadows. In front of me, Katniss's silhouette is clapping to the tune. I frown at her, glancing up at one of Plutarch's cameras. If anyone should be dancing, it should be her. She still has her sister and her mother. She should be able to celebrate like that. She should feel that happy. Rolling my eyes, I push away from the wall with a groan.

I walk up behind her, pinching the skin above her elbow. She jumps, but I ignore it. "Are you going to miss the chance to let Snow see you dancing?" I ask, once again glancing up at a camera. I shouldn't have to be the one pushing her into the spotlight. Isn't that someone else's job?

She nods and disappears into the crowd without hesitation, grabbing her sister and joining in the festivities. I shake my head, forming a faint smile as I return to a spot on the periphery. Finnick and Annie are in there somewhere, but I can't see them at the moment. People are having so much fun that it almost makes me genuinely happy at the sight of it. It's been so long since anyone has been able to be carless like this. Even more than the wedding, this is refreshing.

I lean against a concrete wall, arms crossed tightly over my abdomen. My eyes are heavy and I almost consider leaving and going to bed when I see someone stop beside me. I turn my head, evaluating the girl that stops beside me. I have no idea who she is, other than she's from 13 through and through. I open my mouth to say something when she looks at me, mischievous smile on her face.

"You're not dancing?" she asks. There's something in her voice that makes me think it's a trick question, but I'm not sure how.

I shake my head curtly, still trying to understand her. "No." I make sure to say it forcefully enough that she gets the message that I'm not in the mood to talk. But she doesn't seem to care.

"You and Finnick, you're friends, right?" she asks.

I nod slowly, still feeling like there's something I'm not understanding with this interaction.

"So why are you in the corner by yourself?"

I press my lips together, finally choosing to look her in the eyes. They're light gray, almost shockingly so and alive with some kind of fire that I've only ever seen in a handful of people. It's different that almost everyone I've met down here. Everyone from 13 seems dead, like they're little more than walking corpses. But this girl is very much alive.

"Parties aren't my thing" I mutter, looking back to the dancing crowd.

"No?" the girl asks, sounding genuinely curious. "Well if you change your mind-" she shrugs, moving away from my corner, "-I'll dance with you."

She struts away and I almost immediately lose her in the crowd. I shake my head. Damn people down here are so weird.

I stay for some time, even appraising the enormous cake that rolls out at some point during the night. It's a strange feeling, not being at Finnick's side. The best I get is to hug him and congratulate him and Annie, then they're whisked off by other well-wishers. I stare after them, wondering what it would be like to be in that position, with Vinny, or anyone else at my side.

I try to be happy, but thinking about Vinny makes me lose that excitement. I walk slowly back to my bed in the hospital wing. Katniss isn't back, so I have the chance to take more of her morphling without being under her watchful gaze. I sigh in relief to feel it's cool presence in my veins. They've been doing a shitty job keeping me off this stuff.

With my eyes heavy, I finally disconnect the drugs and crawl into my own bed. At least tonight I can sleep without the interference of nightmares. I'm not sure how long it takes for me to fall asleep, but it's fast. But when I wake up, it feels like no time at all has passed; my eyes feel swollen and heavy, and my muscles are all but paralyzed.

The sound of footsteps marching in pulls me to a sitting position. I watch silently as Katniss stalks into the room, her cheeks slightly flushed and hands clenched at her sides. I raise my eyebrows curiously; I've never seen her angry, not like this anyway.

"What's with you?" I ask when she reaches her little curtained off section.

Her eyes are fiery, almost enough to make me sink away, but I hold my ground. "They're going to the Capitol" she says.

"Who's they?"

She makes an annoyed motion with her hands. "I don't know. Gale. The others."

I furrow my eyebrows. "No one fucking tells me anything" I grumble. Since getting here, I've had to rely on the rare bit of information from Finnick and what I can get through eavesdropping. Irritation prickles in my chest, making me forget about my seemingly permanent exhaustion. She tells me about her conversation with Haymitch, then Plutarch, and even President Coin herself.

Rage swells inside me. Did they think they were going to exclude me? Did they think I'd never find out? There's not a chance in hell that I'm being left here while the others go fight the Capitol. I'm going to see Snow dead if it kills me, and at this rate, it probably will. I'm going to bash each of their heads in, let them be afraid for once.

"Maybe you can train, too" Katniss offers.

I make a face but nod. "Fine. I'll train. But I'm going to the stinking Capitol if I have to kill a crew and fly there myself" I say. They're all going to die. I want them gone, and nothing is going to stand in my way. Especially no one in this fox den.

"Probably best not to bring that up in training" she says. "But it's nice to know I'll have a ride."

I smile, mostly genuinely. Not so long ago our relationship was hostile, bordering on homicidal, and yet here we are. It makes me feel odd, being in agreement with her. She has reason to hate, and want to take out Snow, just like I do. Regardless, she'll have to beat me to him if she plans of killing him for herself. I'll never sleep again if it means I get to slit his fat throat.

If I'm going to wake up early and spend the next day training, I decide I should probably get some more sleep. Katniss seems to have the same idea, so, after siphoning more morphling from her, I curl up in my bed once more.

Lying on my back, I can't help but reach for the necklace that's always been there. It's a shock each time, remembering that it's gone. I sigh, letting my fingers rest against my neck. It's gone, and I'll never get it back; I don't deserve it anymore. I'm glad, though, that it's on my mother's grave instead of in Snow's hands. I don't know what he would have done with it, but I'm glad I never have to find out.