"Good morning fuckers!"
The door to the compartment is thrown open and slams against the wall. I wake with a start, letting out a strange sort of yelping noise. It takes me a few moments of settling my breathing and remembering where I am before I can actually identify the source of the noise; Johanna Mason has entered our room and thrown herself down on our bed.
"Well I must say I'm a little disappointed," Johanna says in a mock chastising voice while sitting cross-legged on top of the covers and leaning back on her hands. "I mean, I really expected to find the two of you naked in here."
"Good morning to you too, Jo," Peeta says, ignoring her last comment and rubbing his eyes. "What time is it?" he asks groggily.
"Eh, like 6:30," Johanna says. I groan slightly. I was up screaming twice last night, so neither Peeta nor I got a lot of sleep. "What? I obviously didn't disrupt anything between the two of you."
"Nothing except sleep," I grumble, annoyed at the interruption. Johanna just rolls her eyes at me.
"Oh, shut up, that's boring," she says. "I haven't seen you two in months, and if there's one upside to this shit show of a weekend it's that I get to annoy the hell out of you, so that's exactly what I'm gonna do. Meet me in the dining car." She yanks the blankets off of us, exposing us to the cold air pouring in from the open window, before hopping up and skipping out of the room. When the door slams shut, I groan and Peeta laughs.
"Well, I guess we've made it to 7," he says with a chuckle.
"When Haymitch said we were getting to 7 in the morning, I didn't realize he meant this early," I grumble. "I'm not sure how advisable it is safety wise for me and Johanna to interact when I'm running on this little sleep." Peeta laughs again and gets out of bed, heading to the dresser where he's unpacked his clothes. I really don't want to get up but with the cool air and the loss of body heat from Peeta next to me, I'm quite cold in bed. Reluctantly I pull myself up and get ready.
When Peeta and I reach the dining car, Johanna is already seated, drinking coffee and eating a muffin with her hands.
"Come on, you're not getting away with that," Peeta says jokingly. She gives him a confused look. "Well, like you said, we haven't seen each other in months. There's no way you're getting out of this greeting without me giving you a hug." Johanna rolls her eyes and snorts.
"God, you're such a softie, Lover Boy," she says, but she gets up nonetheless. She and Peeta embrace and I can tell in both of their expressions that there is a palpable sense of relief to being together. They went through so much together and because of that understand each other in ways nobody else can. With that connection comes a sense of comfort, but also a sense of fear when the other person isn't accounted for. I feel that way about Peeta because of the Games, and I know he feels the same about me. He and Johanna share that bond from their torture in the Capitol too.
"Ah, fuck it, come here stupid," she says to me once she and Peeta have broken apart, pulling me into a hug which, to my relief, is much shorter than her's and Peeta's. We all sit down and Peeta starts fixing me coffee, which I desperately need and greatly appreciate. I feel the train pick up speed and hadn't fully processed in my sleepy state that we weren't moving before.
"Where are we right now?" I ask stupidly. Johanna laughs at me.
"We just left 7," she says. "I got on maybe 10 minutes before I woke you guys up, and we were stopped to refuel." I nod and sip my coffee.
"You just had to give us a wakeup call, did you?" Peeta jokes.
"Well of course," Johanna says. "I couldn't risk forgetting what your screams of terror sound like Peeta, that would just be a travesty. I had to make a good effort to elicit one myself, lest I forget." She speaks in a jokingly formal tone, and while usually I would be absolutely livid to see someone joke about Peeta's torture like that, he and Johanna are both cracking up and I know this is just one of the ways in which they cope with their experiences. I get it. It's all too awful to fully process, and making some sort of humor out of it takes back control, at least a little bit.
"You missed an excellent opportunity in waking Haymitch, Johanna," I joke. "He's always so cheerful in the mornings." She cackles at the joke.
"I'm gonna have to get fucking wasted with him sometime this weekend, for my own sanity," Johanna says,
"That will not be a hard sell," Peeta says, and I nod.
Peeta, Johanna, and I catch up over breakfast, and the more coffee Johanna gets into her system, the higher the energy and the louder the volume of the conversation. She talks about 7, about the rebuilding there, about her life. It seems that things are pretty good in 7; it wasn't bombed out like 12 so it didn't take as long to rebuild. The trees that Snow burned down are starting to grow back and people are working on adapting the lumber industry to allow for more forms of trade and specialization. It seems like the general state of the district is good overall.
"It's all so fucking boring," she says, with an exaggerated moan. Peeta and I both laugh at her, and the laughter only intensifies when we see a very tired, scruffy, and hungover looking Haymitch drag himself into the compartment.
"You're all too goddamn loud," he grumbles, reaching for the pot of coffee. "It's still early."
"My apologies, old man," Johanna says with a wink and Haymitch rolls his eyes at her.
"Oh you better be careful not to do that in front of Effie," Peeta says jokingly. "I can't imagine she'd take it well." Johanna's jaw drops.
"What?! You and Pinky?" Johanna exclaims with a laugh. Haymitch gives a begrudging nod and she spends the rest of breakfast interrogating him about his and Effie's relationship. It's utterly absurd and hysterical and fun. I've missed Johanna, genuinely. It feels nice to be back with her. She's one of such a small number of people who understand mine and Peeta's experiences, which is a relief in and of itself, and her sarcastic and blunt nature helps lighten up situations where I'm lost in my head and Peeta is too polite to comment. Really, I'm having a good time, and there is a very strange sort of dissonance in my head when I try to think about how I feel right now and how I feel about where we're actually going. I'm happy until I think about why we're all here, who and what we are actually going to see.
After a lengthy time in the dining car, Peeta and Haymitch each go separately to shower, and Johanna and I pace the train cars alone. I study her a bit as we walk. She looks good, and like herself for the most part. Her hair has grown back out to almost her shoulders, ending in the spiky way it always did before they shaved it off in the Capitol. She has the same fierce, unbothered look on her face that she always has. I think she must have had a full body polish, because I don't see any marks from her electrocution or from the morphling needles, or at least nothing is visible when she's clothed. Really, the only sign of the massive quantity of trauma she's endured is a slight shift in the way she flits her wide brown eyes as she looks around. It's a small change, I don't think anyone who didn't know her well would notice, but the movement of her eyes is just a little more frantic than it ever was before.
"So," she says, breaking the silence rather abruptly as we round the corner into the lounge room. She throws herself down on the couch unceremoniously and I take a seat next to her. "Things are good with Lover Boy?" I roll my eyes more as a way to deflect than anything else, as I'm absolutely sure this conversation will veer into what is uncomfortable territory for me. Even though Johanna's made me talk about this stuff once does not mean I am at all eager to go through it all again.
"Good," I say. "Everything's good. Well, besides this." I make a circle gesture with my hand, indicating that I mean the train and, by extension, this whole trip. She scoffs.
"Come on, you have to give me more than that," she says. "You're right, this shit sucks, and I need a distraction. Your man only tells me the most innocent fluff over the phone. He is simply ridiculously in love with you, and he doesn't want to overshare. I want to be overshared to." I can't help but laugh at her turn of phrase; it's so classically Johanna.
"I'm not vulnerable like I was that night on the phone, you can't talk me into that again!" I say. I'm trying to be angry, but I'm not. In fact, I'm laughing. I don't know why talking with Johanna like this feels fine - when it would feel unbearably awkward with almost anyone else - but it does and I don't mind it. It goes against every fiber of who I used to be, but I think it's a good change. I will never be the most open person and I don't want to be. But at least I can talk to some people now.
Johanna keeps poking at me, both literally and figuratively, to get me to talk. I'm mostly just rolling around laughing. In a very strange and distant way, it reminds me almost of something I would have done with Prim, or maybe Madge, had we been able to spend more time together outside of school or dire circumstances. Johanna's probably the closest thing I have to a normal friend, and we are both far from normal. But it's nice, the feeling I get when I spend time with her. The ease of it all is somewhat liberating.
"Ok fine!" I say, after she aims a particularly well placed jab at my cheek. "You're not getting any details. All I'll say is we've been enjoying ourselves."
"That tells me nothing!" Johanna groans. I laugh. "C'mon, it's more fun if you aren't all innocent anymore, just tell me!"
"Well then I think you'd be proud..." I say softly, my cheeks flushing. I really don't even recognize myself doing "girl-talk," and part of me wishes I hated it, but I don't.
"Oh thank God!" Johanna exclaims, and I laugh at her. "You two would have just been way too boring if you hadn't done more shit." After a few more minutes of her trying to interrogate more details out of me, I literally find myself rolling off the couch and onto the floor with laughter. I was trying to evade another one of her pokes and lost my balance, and now neither of us can stop laughing.
"God, you're really living up to your name, Brainless," she says, and I chuckle. The two of us sit quietly for a moment, catching our breath after the laughter. The room is silent for a moment, before Johanna speaks, in a different tone than before.
"He told you, right?" she asks.
"Huh?"
"The Bad Night. He told you what...what happened?" I sigh before speaking.
"Yeah. I asked. He...it was hard for him to talk about, and I understand why," I say, and I flinch at the stupidity of my own words. Of course it was hard for him to talk about, idiot, but it's harder for her. Of course my inability to speak effectively or comfort anyone has to rear its head in a moment that I actually do care about. "Johana I'm so sor-"
"Don't," she says, cutting me off mid-apology. "Don't say you're sorry, I don't want your pity. Frankly I don't really want to talk about it at all. I don't want it to define me. I just..." She trails off for a moment, wrapping her arms around her knees and thinking before she speaks again. "I guess I just wanted you to know that you've got shit on me, and I'm ok with that. So you shouldn't be scared to talk to me about your own shit, if you need to. I mean I'm nowhere near as good as Lover Boy with feelings and emotions and all that garbage, but I'm here. I'm here this weekend and I'm always here."
I look up at Johanna from the floor and see in her eyes that she means it, and I am genuinely touched. I realize that this is a relationship I've never had before; I've never had an older female friend to look up to, who can protect me and look out for me and give me advice. I've never had an older sister. Johanna is my older sister.
Without hesitation, I hop back up onto the couch and wrap her in a hug.
"Ugh, don't!" she protests, but I ignore her.
"Thank you," I murmur into her shoulder.
"Of course," she says, even more quietly. "I got you, stupid."
"Did I miss a bonding moment?" I hear Peeta's voice say excitedly from the doorway. I look up to see him standing there, smiling like an idiot.
"No, shut up," Johanna says, and he laughs. Much of the rest of the day floats by in a ridiculously happy breeze, which feels entirely out of place whenever I think about tomorrow and the days after it. Still, I try to let myself be happy in the moment and just live, even if I know it's temporary.
We play that gambling game that Haymitch likes, and for once he has a challenge because Johanna is damn good. After it becomes abundantly clear that we are both way out of our league, Peeta and I just sit back and watch. His hand is on my thigh under the table and I lean my head onto his shoulder. I allow myself to smile at the feeling of his warmth against me, and at the sound of Johanna's laughter and Haymitch's groans as she beats him in the game.
Just as evening begins to fall, the train pulls to a stop at District 4. Peeta's thrown open the windows in the dining car, and I can smell salt on the air. I feel a pang as I realize this is the closest I've been to my mother in months, and yet I have no chance of seeing her. I'm not even sure if I want to, to be fully honest. I find my thoughts about her are still really confused and that they even change depending on the day.
Still, I do think that, of all the districts, 4 is one I would like to spend some time in, now that travel for leisure is allowed. We didn't get the chance on the Victory Tour to even touch the ocean. I was enamored by it the whole time we were there. The waves calmed me, in a strange way. My life felt so out of control at that time, and it was, and yet the waves still came and went, as if they were controlled by something bigger than Snow or than Panem or than anything else. Looking out at the water during all of those speeches and parties helped keep me grounded. I'd like to know what it's like to swim in the ocean. I'm sure the waves make it different from the lake back home, but I think I'd like it.
When Annie boards the train, Peeta and Johanna both rush forward to greet her, and the three of them embrace and just stand together for a long while. Haymitch and I stay back, knowing that these three captured, tortured people understand each other's pain so deeply that they are united, and that they need some time to just exist together. When Peeta and Johanna start to pull out of the hug, Annie places one of her hands on each of their cheeks, cupping their faces and holding them in place. The act would be a bit strange from anyone else, I think, but it feels fitting for Annie. I'm not even sure why, but I can tell it's right.
"I've missed you," she says, smiling with a bit of an absent expression in her eyes.
"We've missed you too, An," Peeta says, and Johanna nods. At this point Annie walks further into the dining car and Haymitch and I greet her with hugs as well.
"It's so good to see you," she says when she hugs me. I'm genuinely happy to hear that. I didn't get to know Annie all that well in 13, so I wasn't necessarily expecting much in the waay of a greeting. We weren't able to spend too much time together, and whatever issues she has made it hard to connect sometimes. Still, I know that she is a deeply kind person. That much is obvious from everything about her. She has a goodness to her that is hard to find, especially among Victors. I think the only ones who have it are her and Peeta.
"It's good to see you too, Annie," I say, and she smiles at me. We all settle in to catch up and have dinner together.
"So Annie, where's Finn right now?" Peeta asks. "I was hoping to meet him." Annie's face adopts a wistful expression.
"Oh yes, I would love for you to meet him, Peeta," she says. "I think he'd love you. But he's still in 4 right now. Katniss's mom is looking after him, actually. I just...I'm not sure I could rely on myself to look after him in the way he needs this weekend."
A little twinge of pain and jealousy travels through me at the mention of my mother, but I do my best to stifle it. I should not be mad about this. I should be happy for Annie, happy for Finn. Peeta squeezes my hand a little harder under the table, which I appreciate. It helps keep me focussed on the good here, which is that I am genuinely proud of Annie for being self-aware enough to know when she would need help taking care of her baby, and grateful that she has the support system that she needs. I look up and see that Peeta's is looking at me with a bit of a concerned expression on his face, and I kiss his cheek to mollify him. He seems to relax a bit after that.
We spend the evening hearing all sorts of stories about Finn. Apparently, even though he's only 5 months old and is still too young to swim, he already has an affinity for the water. Annie says he absolutely adores bath time, and that he always seems to stop crying whenever she takes him to the beach. She thinks the sound of the waves calms him. I agree with him on that. She says he's also a happy baby. I'm not sure how you can fully tell given how much all babies cry, but she seems certain of it. She says he laughs and smiles nearly all the time. She goes on and on about how he has Finnick's eyes.
In Annie's own eyes, I see an expression that I find deeply bittersweet. Part of her gaze is vacant and off in the way that it always has been, but another part is filled with warmth and love. She loves her son. She may not be the perfect human, in terms of her abilities to function from day to day, but who among us is a perfect human? No one is, after what we've been through. Annie is trying her best, and I know that's what matters.
It's getting late and we're all about to turn in for the night when Annie stops mid conversation and covers her ears. She squeezes her eyes shut and starts rocking back and forth a little bit, which are all telltale signs that whatever voices she hears in her head are beginning to overwhelm her. I'm nervous, because I've never seen anyone be able to successfully calm her down but Finnick. Peeta approaches her slowly, placing a hand on her shoulder very gently.
"Annie," he says in a quiet voice. "Annie you're alright. Can you hear me, Annie?" Her eyes fling open rather suddenly, causing Peeta to step back a little. Rather surprisingly to all of us, her face does not display any mask of pain, but rather one of joy. One tear falls from her eyes, but she smiles as she wipes it away.
"You okay?" Johanna asks. Annie nods.
"Yes," she says, sniffling and smiling. "Yes, I'm more than okay. Finnick is very happy tonight."
"Finn's at home, I'm sure he's happy," Peeta says, but Annie shakes her head.
"No, not Finn. Finnick." None of us are entirely sure how to respond to this. Annie, for as long as I have known her, has had a bit of a hard time distinguishing between fiction and reality. She's often heard the voices and screams of the people she's lost in her head, and usually it torments her. But I'd like to think that Finnick would be happy, if he saw us all here together like this. If he knew the woman he loved more than anyone or anything else was doing well and was taken care of, or that he had a happy, healthy baby boy. If he knew that his friends missed him, and wanted to stand by him and his family. I think he would like that.
I'm not one to believe in anything supernatural, in life beyond death, but part of me hopes that Annie's right.
I feel a lot better when I get into bed today than I did yesterday, although I feel as if I'm sort of in denial of whatever tomorrow may hold. Peeta crawls in next to me and I curl into his side.
"Today was actually pretty good," he says, his voice sounding pleasantly surprised.
"It was," I say, with a little laugh. Peeta plants a kiss in my hair.
"I'm proud of you," he says, rubbing his hand up and down my arm. I roll my eyes and look up at him. The expression on his face is entirely genuine.
"Well we haven't gotten to the hard part yet," I say. "I don't know how proud of me you'll be when I break down on live television." He laughs a little and lowers his face so its hovering just above mine.
"I'll be proud of you for showing up no matter what," he whispers. "You have every right to show them how hard this is for you. I'll be proud of you if you tell them that, or if you don't. No matter what, you've got to deal with me being proud of you." I giggle before tilting my head up to close the space between our lips. I kiss him deeply and he returns the intensity. When his tongue enters my mouth I moan, and it's this that spurs him on to flip me onto my back and climb on top of me.
I run my hands up and down the plane of his already bare chest, immensely grateful that he doesn't usually sleep with a shirt on. He groans and moves his lips to my neck, nipping and sucking at a spot near my pulse. I sigh and weave my fingers into his curls. I realize that if there's anything in the world that can distract me from my fears, it's this. I need this. I need him. He runs his hand up and down the inside my thigh and I cry out, far too loudly. He silences me with his lips.
"Careful," he whispers when we part. "Thin walls." I nod while panting, although I'm not sure if I'll be able to keep that agreement, given the heat between my legs that is already intense and I know will only escalate as we keep moving. Still, I should try.
"Right," I mutter. "Don't want to give Johanna the satisfaction of overhearing us." Peeta laughs before I stifle the sound with a kiss. I lean up slightly to do so, and he takes the opportunity to pull off my sleep shirt, now leaving both of us just in our underwear. He pushes me back down onto the bed and lowers himself on top of me. I can feel him hard against me as he lowers his mouth down to my breasts. As he sucks one into his mouth and then the other, I have to bite my lip to stifle my moans.
"Oh, Peeta..." I let out in a breathy whisper. He hums a low, throaty moan around my breast at the sound of his name. Without removing his mouth from me, he reaches a hand down and past the waistband of my panties to rub me oh so gently. I throw my head back and arch my chest up into his mouth, doing everything I can not to cry out in pleasure. One of my hands is still knotted in his hair, and the other one bunches up the sheets into my fist as he lingers on that sensitive bundle of nerves. I whimper as he continues his movements and switches his mouth to my other breast. When it gets a little too loud he throws his free hand over my mouth, and for some reason I like the feeling so much. I feel myself building, and just as I think I'm getting close he stops, rather abruptly. He lifts his head and I look up at him.
"What?" I ask, breathless and needy. His eyes are dark with lust and he doesn't say anything, but rather just kisses me with so much passion and longing that it's hard to describe. I throw my arms around his back and deepen the kiss, making sure there is absolutely no space between us. I reach my hands down to hook my thumbs over the waistband of his boxers and pull them down, his cock now resting on the thin, wet fabric of my panties. I cup his ass in my hands and sqeeze a little, and I like the way he groans into my mouth. He pulls his mouth away from mine, taking my bottom lip between his teeth briefly as he goes. I want his lips back, but I know I want what comes next even more. I know he's left me hanging, so close to the precipice, so we can both get there together. That's exactly what I want.
He slides my panties down my legs and discards them onto the floor. Within seconds I feel him pushing into me, and I moan in pleasure at the feeling. He's gotten better and better at this each time we've done it, better at controlling his movements and at hitting the exact spots that make me feel good. His thrusts right now seem somehow more intense than usual, and I love it. My body's immediate instinct for some reason is to fold up my knees and bring them between my chest and his, so I do it. I don't really know why I do it, but when he adjusts to the position he is able to hit even deeper inside of me and I see stars.
"Fuck," I breathe. He plants his lips onto my neck and I return my hands to their spot in his hair.
"Mmm, you're amazing," he moans softly, his lips never fully leaving my neck. The position feels so good and intense that it doesn't take long before I'm very very close. Based on the rate of his breathing and his thrusting, I would guess Peeta is right there with me. The intensity I'm feeling right now is so indescribably good, and I want to keep feeling it until we both finish together.
"Faster," I plead, and he quickens the pace of his thrusts. I moan without thinking about the consequences because it just feels too good.
"Oh God, I'm so close," he murmurs. I nod frantically.
"Me too, don't stop," He continues thrusting and kissing my neck until I feel myself tighten around him, waves of pleasure soaring through me. He stiffens inside me at the same time and lets out a groan. I lower my knees and he collapses down on top of me.
"Fuck," he breathes, and I don't feel I can speak yet, so I just nod and run my hands through his hair, chest heaving. As our panting subsides, I start to kiss little drops of sweat off of his neck.
"That," I whisper into him. "Was perfect." I can feel him smile without even looking up at him. Eventually he returns back to his spot on the bed next to me, and no part of me has any desire to dress or even get up to lock the door. I don't want to be apart from him for even the moment that would take. Let Johanna find us tomorrow, for all I care. It doesn't matter.
What matters is this boy, right here, with me. Through good and bad. It's him that matters.