"And that's all we are Jefferson, all of us on this earth, a piece of drifting wood. Until we – each of us, individually – decide to become something else. I am still that piece of drifting wood, and those out there are not better. But you can be better"
~A Lesson Before Dying
Katniss and I fall into a new routine of waking at dawn and suffering through training. Katniss's ribs heal and I make it out of withdrawal. Before long we're able to run, shoot, and assemble our guns with the others in our class. Even York, our trainer, seems impressed with how much we've improved. It's like I said, we're Victors, this is what we do. Still, I roll my eyes at the praise.
"I think winning the Games was easier" I say, making Katniss laugh. Still, it's hard not to feel good about it. I thought I was going to die a few weeks ago, and now I can run five miles at a time.
It doesn't hurt that we finally get real food. Beef stew, apparently famous in District 12 according to Katniss. I'm almost in a good mood, eating something that tastes good, and knowing that I'm making some progress. Gale, Katniss's fake cousin, and Delly, a tiny girl from District 12 sit with us, and even Finnick and Annie join. Finnick and I still haven't spoken since we argued a few days before. I watch him silently as he fusses over Annie, trying not to roll my eyes.
It hurts, somewhere deep in my chest, watching him act so happy. As much as I tell myself it isn't true, I resent Annie. It isn't her fault, but I never had to share Finnick before. I used to rely on him, and him on me, and now, he's gone and there's no one left to fill his place.
Mostly I sit silently, listening to the conversation around me. If I don't think too much about Finnick, I can almost regain the good mood I was in earlier. If anything, it might be the happiest I've seen Katniss. I didn't know she could smile so much. Even I can't resist smiling at Finnick's jokes and stories. No matter how mad at him I am, I'm not immune to his humor.
"Peeta!" the girl Delly shrieks suddenly. I look up at her, to see her gaze behind me. Turning in my seat, I'm surprised to see that indeed Peeta is standing there, hovering uncomfortably next to the empty seat. "How nice to see you out… and about" Delly trails off, clearly unsure what to say.
I take him in. He's thin, and has faint circles under his eyes, but he looks good. The two hulking guards beside him are imposing and destructive to the friendly atmosphere. Peeta must still be too dangerous to leave unsupervised.
"What's with the fancy bracelets?" I ask nodding at the handcuffs around his wrists.
"I'm not quite trustworthy yet" Peeta says, surprisingly strongly. "I can't even sit here without your permission" he nods at the seat next to me.
"Sure he can sit here" I say, pulling the seat out and patting the seat, answering for the others. "We're old friends" I say in response to the looks the others give as Peeta sits. "Peeta and I had adjoining cells in the Capitol. We're very familiar with each other's screams." I smile at him but he doesn't seem to know how to respond. It's true, though. In the Capitol, I would fall asleep to the sounds of his terror and agony. It became background noise after a while and sleeping without it was unnatural.
I look away when Annie jerks beside me. She does that thing where she presses her hands over her ears, letting out quiet murmurs that I can't quite decipher. From her other side, Finnick shoots me a furious look, wrapping his arms around her.
I meet his stare firmly, shrugging as if it's no big deal. "What? My head doctor says I'm not supposed to censor my thoughts. It's part of my therapy." Isn't that what you wanted, Finnick? For me to give it a shot?
The friendly, open atmosphere was crushed as soon as Peeta showed up, and it's only worse now with Finnick trying to coax Annie back to reality. I eat the rest of the stew, still surprised at how good it is. I've gone too long without real, quality meals, and I'm not letting a drop of this go to waste.
"Annie" Delly pipes up, her voice annoyingly peppy. "Did you know it was Peeta who decorated your wedding cake? Back home, his family ran the bakery and he did all the icing."
I glance between Delly, Annie, then Peeta. His expression is impossible to read. "Thank you, Peeta. It was beautiful." I don't miss how afraid she looks of me, or how Finnick's grip tightens around her. I bite the inside of my lip, ripping open an old tear.
"My pleasure, Annie" Peeta says. I still expect his voice to be ragged and exhausted, but it's full of life, much the same as I remember from the arena.
"If we're going to fit in that walk, we'd better go" Finnick says. I roll my eyes subtly. Nice excuse. "Good seeing you, Peeta" he says, holding Annie possessively with his spare hand.
"You be nice to her, Finnick. Or I might try to take her away from you" Peeta says. I turn back, looking at him cautiously. There's none of his normal, gentle, light, humor. I'm not sure what he's going for by making that comment, but all of us seem disturbed by it.
"Oh, Peeta" Finnick sighs in his traditional, good-hearted way. "Don't make me sorry I restarted your heart."
They walk off, leaving us in uncomfortable silence. Once again, it's Delly that speaks first. "He did save your life, Peeta. More than once."
"For her" he shoots an acidic look at Katniss. "For the rebellion. Not for me. I don't owe him anything."
I find myself opening my mouth to say something, but I clamp it shut. Katniss's cheeks have flushed red. "Maybe not. But Mags is dead and you're still here. That should count for something."
"Yeah, a lot of things should count for something that don't seem to, Katniss. I've got some memories I can't make sense of, and I don't think the Capitol touched them. A lot of nights on the train, for instance."
I raise my eyebrows, peering down at my soup. I can only imagine what the two of them got up to in the privacy of the train. A laugh builds in my throat. I can hardly imagine either of them being intimate, especially Katniss. The way she's reacted to nudity, the thought of her having sex, hell, even kissing anyone despite all the footage, seems like a lie.
Peeta lifts his spoon, taking my attention with it. He peers closely at Katniss and, I notice, at Gale. There's definitely a lot of unsaid things there. "So, are you two officially a couple now, or are they still dragging out the star-crossed lover thing?" he asks.
"Still dragging" I murmur, scraping my spoon against the empty bowl. Would that I could eat some more.
Peeta balls his hands into fists beside me, splaying them out in a worrying fashion. I pause, watching him from the corner of my eye. I know it's Katniss he hates, but being the closest one to him, I'm not letting my guard down in case he snaps. "I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it for myself" Gale says from across the table. I flick my gaze up to him, still keeping an eye on Peeta.
"What's that?" asks Peeta.
"You," Gale answers. Obviously.
"You'll have to be a little more specific. What about me?"
I snap my attention to Peeta, my patience worn thin. "That they're replaced you with the evil-mutt version of yourself" I say. I never knew Peeta well, but I knew him well enough to know that he never harbored this much hate and anger. It's bullshit. This is what he wanted, and now, he's set on believing that the girl he once loved, is nothing more than a mutt.
We fall silent for a moment until Gale sets down his glass, turning to Katniss. "You done?" he asks. They both rise and leave quickly.
I follow their movements until they're out of the dining room. I lean my chin on my hand, starring out into the rest of the room. Apparently I wasn't the only one watching them leave, because as soon as they're out of sigh, sweet, quiet, little Delly hits her fist on the table.
"Peeta!" she gasps, "what in the world was that about?" He seems less surprised at her outburst than I do. "What did I tell you? Katniss is not your enemy. You don't get to treat her like that!"
Peeta shakes his head, frowning down into his lap. "She is" he hisses, cutting off suddenly like he has more to say.
"No, she is not!" Delly squeaks, her voice rising to a dangerously high pitch. Around us, people have turned to stare. "You don't have to be her friend but you can't be so rude."
"I don't-" Peeta shakes his head, his hand clenching and flaring like before. "No, no, you don't understand." Behind him, his two guards edge closer, clearly concerned with his distress. "Why? Why then…" he shakes his head, his voice sounding off. "A mutt. She's a mutt…" he lets out a frustrated grunt. "No. No."
It's enough for one of his guards to clamp his hand down over Peeta's shoulder. He rips it off, muttering incomprehensibly. I find myself leaning away as he twitches, arguing with himself. Delly and I exchange a concerned glance as the guards pull him away, leaving his partially eaten stew on the table. Only I would notice the food in the middle of Peeta's breakdown, but I was never the selfless one. I eye it, checking over my shoulder to make sure no one is watching before I take and pull it in front of me. If I'm so selfish, I might as well live up to it. Besides, with all the training, I'm starving.
Once I've finished my stolen, second helping, I wander slowly back up to my new compartment. I don't really know where else to go. Finnick and I aren't talking and I don't exactly have any other friends. Being out in public isn't appealing, so I don't really have any other options. Pushing into the room, I pause. I expected Katniss to be off with Gale or her sister or someone, not sitting on her bed, head in her hand, but here she is. I sit heavily at the foot of her bed, looking down at the book in front of her. Military Tactics. .
I drop onto the foot of her bed with a huff. "You missed the best part" I say, giving her a well needed distraction. I stretch out, lying on my back across her bed. "Delly lost her temper at Peeta over how he treated you. She got very squeaky. It was like someone stabbing a mouse with a fork repeatedly. The whole dining hall was riveted" I say with a smile and quiet laugh. Really though, someone as small as Delly just doesn't have an angry voice.
"What'd Peeta do?" Katniss asks quietly.
I look at her, noticing the disdain in her eyes. "He started arguing with himself like he was two people. The guards had to take him away. On the good side, no one seemed to notice I finished his stew" I laugh again, running my hand over my stomach. I could eat that stuff everyday if it was offered.
We don't talk much for a while, until Katniss tries to quiz me on the stuff out of the book. I frown at the ceiling before snatching the book from her and making her answer the questions herself. After a few hours of going back and forth, she leaves alone to go visit her mom and sister across the hall. I don't know how long she'll be gone, so I move to my own bed. I'm practically asleep by the time she comes back and showers and gets in bed just before the lights turn out.
I'm in the state between wakefulness and sleep when she clears her throat. "Johanna, could you really hear him screaming?"
I open my eyes, staring into the black. A sigh builds in my throat and I roll to my side, where, if there were light, I would be able to see Katniss just a few feet away. "That was part of it" I confess "like the jabberjays in the arena. Only it was real. And it didn't stop after an hour." I take a deep breath, a memory surfacing, threatening to make me relive those hours, strapped to the table, listening to Peeta scream. "Tick, tock" I add dejectedly.
"Tick, tock" she whispers back.
That's all the conversation we have. I stare into the dark, suddenly unable to sleep. I'm sure I'm going to have nightmares. So far I haven't woken up shrieking, and I don't want to reveal that side of myself to Katniss. Still, at some point I drift off to sleep.
I wake every few hours, drenched in a cold sweat and trembling. But I choke back the screams. It's a nightmare I haven't had in a long time. Kane, my long ago district partner kneels over me, his knees pressed into my chest, pinning me to the frozen ground. Around him are the other Careers: Kiyo, Anja, Hubert… all soaked with blood and staring at me with dead, evil eyes.
In the morning, and all the ones following, I get up, shake off the nightmare, and head to training. It becomes almost therapeutic after a time, having something to focus on other than myself. And, with the extra class that involves us stomping through a fake city, Katniss and I have to spend much more time working and studying. I almost think we're friends. With Finnick and I still not talking, it's nice having someone who at least doesn't hate me or isn't afraid I'm going to kill them.
Katniss's fancy camera crew even starts showing up at our training, and even I begin getting filmed. It's uncomfortable but they manage to stay hidden so that I don't notice them too much. There's an atmosphere of hope and anticipation that seems to build and spread throughout the days. Katniss seems hopeful that we'll get to go to the Capitol, but I'm still being cautious. I haven't completely disregarded killing a crew and stealing a hovercraft myself.
It's a sudden change, when Peeta shows up. I drag Katniss onto the field when she freezes in her tracks, staring at him where he's running, two guards trailing him. I don't understand the rationale, but maybe he's doing better suddenly. Or maybe, like me, it's a distraction for him. Either way, it's not my problem, and I'm not going to let Katniss get dragged down by it either.
One morning, York comes up to me and Katniss, telling us we're to be taking the exam to determine if we're fit enough to go to the Capitol. A nervous sweat breaks out on the back of my neck, but there's no time to worry; we're thrown into the tests immediately. The obstacle course, tactics exam, and weapons test are all relatively easy, and I pass without an issue. There's a line, however, for the last part of the exam, which is making your way through the city simulation by yourself.
I swallow down a wave of terror when a boy mentions that this last test is meant to exploit each person's weakness. It isn't hard to figure out what my weakness is. Water. I haven't so much as showered or touched the sink since beginning training. Even wiping myself down with a towel makes my stomach clench and ends up with me sweating through any effect the towel might have. But will they know that? Maybe they'll exploit the Games, trying to get me to kill a kid or something. Or maybe something to do with my family.
I'm tense, imagining all the scenarios they could put me through. I take a deep breath, doing everything I can to hide the anxiety building. It's just water. No matter what, I can't shake the notion that it'll be the water. They won't actually hurt me, not intentionally. Lucius isn't here, neither is Snow. I take another breath. I'll be fine. I'll pass. I have to go to the Capitol.
When my name is called, I have to swallow down some bile and walk forward with my chin held high. Immediately I'm immersed in the simulated city, buildings rising beside me and a long, empty street in front of me. The instructions are relatively simple, get to the rendezvous point and don't die in the process. Easy. Not a problem.
I start off down the street, keeping an eye out for the fake snipers or Peacekeepers I've gotten used to in training. I make it almost a block without anything. I'm so tense just waiting for something to happen. I'll have to demonstrate some sort of competence, so I know this won't just be a walk through an abandoned city.
On cue, there's a deafening cracking sound to my right. I whirl around, expecting to see someone, or something down the street, but there's nothing. In my ear, there's a slight crackle from the faux commander. Opposition blew the damn. Get to high ground.
A lump rises in my throat that's impossible to swallow down. Almost immediately I notice the water leaking onto the streets. Within seconds the ground is covered in raising water. I take a few, hesitant steps up the sidewalk, my eyes focused on the water level instead of some way to get away from it. I can feel my legs getting weak, but I force myself to look up. I move quickly, trying to control my breathing to ignore the rising to urge to break into a sprint.
You're fine. Don't be a baby; suck it up. I tell myself over and over that it's fine and I start to think I'm in control enough to actually make it to the rendezvous point, when I hear gunshots.
I barley have time to press myself against the wall, just ducking out of reach of the fake Peacekeepers coming up a side street.
In my ear, the commander gives me instructions about an alternate route. It's close, and simple, but my muscles are frozen. I can't move. Even with the sound of gunshots hitting the brick just around the corner, I stay pressed against the wall. Move, Johanna! I scream at myself, but I can't.
Around me, the water rises to my knees. It's current makes it splash against my legs, the coldness of it making my throat constrict so that I can't breathe. I raise my hand to my throat, trying to get a breath but it won't come.
A sudden, horrible pain shoots up from the base of my spine to my neck. Terror washes through me. It can't be. It's can't be. My knees quiver, threatening to send me down into the rising water.
From around the corner, a white clad man steps out. I blink at him, seeing the Peacekeeper at first, but watching the black visor morph into a grotesque figure that finally settles on Lucius. I shake my head, moving backwards a few steps, the only movement I can muster.
"No" I say, my voice sounding like it's coming from all around me. It's not possible. And I know it's not, but it doesn't change the fact that all I can see is Lucius walking towards me, form flickering and merging with that of a Peacekeeper.
Each step he takes sends increasingly painful waves through my limbs, until I'm forced to my knees, agony tearing a shriek from my throat. The water splashes on my face as I fall forwards. I try to scoot away but Lucius keeps up with me.
"This is what you do?" he asks, a disgusted expression on his face. "You won't even try to fight me?" he squats down in front of me so his face is in front of mine. "Maybe I'll kill you this time. After everything, you're still afraid to die, aren't you?"
He reaches forward, his cold hand wrapping around my wrist. An agonizing, burning pain shoots through my skin where he touches me. I can't stop the scream from ripping through my throat. I pull away, but he holds tight.
He's going to kill me.
He tightens his grip, his other hand wrapping around my throat, pulling me towards him. "Johanna!" he screams, another, piercing pain digging into my thigh.
I scream again, looking out onto the street, seeing if there's anything I can do to get away, anywhere to run. But I'm stuck. I turn back to Lucius, another scream building in my face when I see it isn't Lucius. It's Haymitch.
I push against him with a gasp. My head is swimming; each time I blink, the face morphs, presenting me with a new horror. Snow. Lucius. Jonathan. I clench my eyes shut, refusing to look at the faces anymore. There's the sound of footsteps and yelling, but I can't decipher it. All I can hear are screams. Peeta's screams. They're loud, like he's standing right next to me as they torture him.
In the end, I press my hands against my ears, trying to dull the sound. Two steel hands clamp onto my wrists, but I can't pull my hands away.
"Go away!" I scream. But they don't. "Get off me!"
The screaming in my ears grows louder, turning into a relentless drone. Somehow I swear I can still hear the crackle of electricity, threatening to send me into convulsions. It's coming. I'm waiting for it; for the knife to drop.
My hands drop from my ears seemingly of their own accord. I grit my teeth, but the pain doesn't come. Instead, a warm, tingling sensation spreads up through my stomach into my chest. I open my eyes with a gasp. There's people standing over me, but I can't focus on their faces. I don't know who they are. Are they Capitol? Are they Peacekeepers coming to bring me back to Snow? Are they going to kill me?
The questions are thick on my tongue, but fear keeps it from moving. My heart is pounding and my breaths are shaky, but the crushing, suffocating terror is seeping away. At the same time, a rising numbness takes over, not like the morphling, but sometime else. This is it. They're going to kill me. They poisoned me and they're here to watch me die. I open my mouth, trying to get out a word, but I can't get my tongue to cooperate. It's like it's tied in a knot, flapping uselessly in my mouth.
My head dips and I give up, letting myself slump against the wall. If this is how I'm going to die, then so be it. So long as I don't feel anything anymore.