Prompt: Jo and Effie are sharing a cell, and Johanna admits that when she was a new Victor, she had a crush on Haymitch, and that is where some of her attitude toward Effie comes from. Is Effie jealous?

Not Yet

"It's out of its socket." Jo declared "I need to put it back in."

Effie whimpered at the thought. She hadn't even felt the pain at first. She had just heard the terrible popping noise and then… Then the pain had really kicked in. She had thought she was used to it by now. She had thought…

"It's so fucking cold." Johanna grumbled, her hands taking a firmer hold on her body.

It was dark in their cell, too dark for Effie to really see. Not that there was much to see anyway. Walls, a concrete floor, a ceiling… Johanna's broken nails scratched her skin but it was nothing compared to the burning pain in her left shoulder. Aside from the pain, she was numb. Her body was raw, her clothes were in tatters, her mind felt empty… And she was numb.

She had uttered so many 'I don't knows' that she feared it was starting to become true.

"Do you really have to?" she asked and it took some effort to form a coherent sentence.

She vaguely wondered if Peeta was alright but even sparing a thought for someone else required an energy she didn't have. They hadn't touched him anyway. Not too much at least. It was her they had hurt when he hadn't been able to answer their questions.

"Depends if you want to keep the arm or not." Johanna snorted.

"I am so tired…" she whispered, bowing over a little. The movement hurt but, then again, everything did. And she was dizzy. So dizzy. But she didn't have anything in her stomach to lose anyway. "Tomorrow morning…"

"We need to do it before it swells." Seven's victor argued. "Come on. Don't be a baby."

"Fuck you, Johanna." she snarled.

Some days, she wished they would let in Annie's cell. Or Peeta's. Or even Portia's, like in the first few days. But no. They always put her back with Johanna. Probably because they knew there was no love lost between them.

She let the younger victor manhandle her though. She didn't want to lose an arm. She could only imagine the jokes Chaff would pile on her.

It took her a few seconds to remember Chaff was dead.

Jo chortled that crazy laughter of hers. It had a touch of hysteria in it. Ever since they had started electrocuting her to get her to talk. And unlike the rest of them, Johanna had things to say. It was probably good she was the only one with actual information because Effie was pretty sure she also was the only one who wouldn't break.

"Not so prim and proper anymore, Trinket." the victor mocked.

Johanna didn't give her any warning before popping her shoulder back in. The pain didn't lessen and it didn't feel much better but she could move her fingers. Jo moved away toward the corner of the cell. After a few moments, Effie crawled back too until their sides were pressed together.

"Why do you hate me so much?" she complained.

It was mostly a rhetorical question.

And Jo didn't disappoint.

"Do you want a fucking list?" Seven's victor snorted.

"Not particularly." she muttered, huddling closer to her for warmth, her bad arm cradled against her chest.

Johanna shifted too, angled her body toward hers, mindful of her own injuries. The only sounds in the room were the labored puffs of their breathing. Effie was slowly falling into slumber. That was usually what they did in their cell when they weren't exchanging gibes in a pitiful way to make sharing body warmth more normal.

It was freezing in there.

Effie hated being cold.

"I hate the way he looks at you." Johanna mumbled.

It took her a while to make sense of the words, make sense of the meaning behind them. It took her even longer to find an appropriate response. Too long.

"I hate the rest too, of course." Jo continued. "You're a fucking Capitol. I'd hate you just for that but you're an escort on top of it. And you cheat at pool."

"I do not cheat at pool." she huffed. "I am just better than you."

"Liar." the younger woman spat. "That goes on the list too. You've got a double face. Never says what you really think. Always smiling. Makes me want to punch your teeth out."

"Someone already did that." she reminded her, probing at the missing molar with her tongue.

"Right." Johanna snickered as if it was a good joke. Effie didn't mind. They all took their fun where they could find it nowadays. "The way he looks at you. That's what I hate most. Cause you're an escort and he should fucking hate you. It's sick. He should hate you too"

She never said Haymitch's name but Effie didn't need to hear it to know who they were talking about. A lot of men looked at her but the only one Johanna had ever cared about where she was concerned…

"And he should want you instead?" she retorted.

Had she been in her right mind, she would have deflected and let sleeping dogs lie.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jo snapped.

She sighed, hesitated between dropping the subject that should never have arose and saying her piece.

"You had a crush on him since you won your Games." she accused. "I am aware."

He was well aware too because he and Effie had had a few arguments about it back in the days. He had always dismissed it, always brushed it off as a silly childish crush on a new victor's part… All she had seen then was that Jo was younger, more appealing in some ways, but she should have known better. Haymitch never encouraged the girl, never treated her any differently than any other young victor he and Chaff had taken under their drunk wings…

"Bullshit." Johanna spat defensively. "Bullshit."

What was the point of insisting? Any infatuation the girl had sported had long faded away into friendship and Effie was too tired to care. What did it matter anyway when it looked likely they would all die there?

"I miss him." she whispered. "I miss him so much."

It was dangerous confessing that much, even to Johanna. Haymitch was used as a weapon against her in there. She was his bitch. Always his bitch. Her new name… Abernathy's bitch…

One day they told her he was dead, the next they beat her so she would tell them where he was…

"Don't go sentimental on me, Trinket." Jo scorned. "We're not dead yet."

"No…" Effie agreed. "Not yet."