A/N: I'm sorry I left you all with that terrible cliffhanger, though it did inspire some lovely messages! I'm sorry to report that there is just one more chapter after this. Thank you so much for reading, and please shoot me a review if you have the time!
When I wake up, I can tell something isn't quite right even before I open my eyes. Silence surrounds me, except for the low beeping of a machine, and the quiet breathing of a nearby body. What's going on? I was obviously no longer in the arena—but where was I?
I take a moment before I alert anyone to my state of consciousness. The air smells like chlorine, with a hint of pine and lemon thrown into the mix. My whole body is sore, but it doesn't feel terribly injured, and my throat feels raw.
I'm certainly not in my best fighting condition, but I should manage well enough—if I ever figure out where I am. Only one way to obtain that kind of information, I open my eyes. The room is dark, but I can see the glowing monitor which sits to my left, it reflects ominously off of the hard linoleum floor and the pale walls. A hospital?
I look to my right and see a figure hunched over at an unnatural angle in a chair. Dark hair falls over their face, but I still smile, recognizing the small figure. Johanna.
I can't imagine a scenario where the Game Makers would allow two victors again. That's insane even in my mind. Not to mention, didn't she kill me? My heart throbs uncomfortably as my last few memories trickle in.
But something isn't right—if she's sitting here next to me, I'm obviously missing something. "Johanna," I whisper.
She jolts awake violently and a knife clatters to the floor. Her bright eyes peer into mine and all at once she's on her feet and clutching me desperately. "You're alive," she whispers scratchily. "It's been days, they didn't know if you would wake up. They—they thought I had hit you too hard. I can't believe you're alive."
"What happened? Where are we?" She pulls back and scrutinizes me carefully.
Taking a deep breath she finally asks me, "Katniss, do you remember anything?" I think for a moment back to the last moments in my memory. My breath shakes slightly; I know that isn't what she needs me to remember.
"Kissing you," I whisper, my eyes downcast. I choose to omit the moments immediately following that kiss.
She smiles sadly, "And I know you remember my hitting you," she whispers painfully, "And the cut."
I touch my arm and cringe slightly, it's heavily bandaged.
"Try not to move it too much; I cut a bit deeper then I meant to, and it's still healing. It should get better in time." I nod lightly, and raise an eyebrow, hoping she'll know what I am asking. "Katniss, I wasn't trying kill you."
I roll my eyes, the picture of adulthood. "I kind of guessed that. If so, you did a rubbish job," I whisper. "But I still don't know what happened."
"There was a plan, Katniss. A plan you didn't know about, you couldn't know about. They saved us from the Arena, we made it out alive. But to get to that point—I had to remove your tracker, and it had to seem like I was trying to kill you on camera. Otherwise we never would have had enough time."
I feel myself nodding. As unbelievable as the tale sounds, I believe her. It makes more sense than her trying to kill me, or at least it feels better. "Beetee blew the arena, and Haymitch and Plutarch came to the rescue."
I shake my head slightly, trying to clear the spinning which surrounds me. "We escaped from the Arena," I clarify, "So where…?"
She leans down and kisses me lightly, "We're in District 13, we're free."
It's three weeks before we speak again, and I've nearly convinced myself it was all a sick dream.
I'm kept in the hospital and under constant surveillance. They seem to think that I'm mentally unstable, and a threat to the safety of President Coin.
It's true that during our first meeting I threatened her, and that I've been fairly unresponsive. It's also true that I tried to stab Haymitch when he told me about the disappearance of Beetee and Finnick. But none of that was me being mentally unstable or threatening. These people are obviously confused.
Haymitch understood, surprisingly enough. He understood that I was angry that he made the call to keep me out of the loop, and angry that he made Johanna keep secrets as well. He understood that I was furious when I found out that he had to make the call to leave without Finnick and Beetee. I may understand why he's made the decisions he had, but I don't have to like them, and he understands that.
The citizens of District 13 do not.
As for Coin, well she's another creature all together. I was honestly excited to meet the woman who was meant to lead our revolution. Excited to help her, work with her, fight with her. Then I met her.
She holds the same cold stare that Snow always fixed me with, and treats me as if I am entirely incapable of caring for myself. Only moments after shaking my hand she turned to Haymitch and asked him when I would be ready to shoot some promotional materials.
She didn't ask me if I was willing to be her Mockingjay. She didn't ask me if I was willing to be paraded about for the cameras, again. She asked Haymitch.
He simply coughed awkwardly, and suggested she speak to me about any of that. She was obviously displeased, but Haymitch earned my full forgiveness in that moment. I simply told her that I wasn't interested.
If they want a soldier, I'll help. If they want someone to rally the troops, I'll help. But if they want me to don the ridiculous Capitol Couture hair and makeup, and prance around in my dead friend's clothing line, they have another thing coming. She even wanted me to continue playing off of Peeta. Mourn Peeta's death on camera; discuss the pain of losing our unborn child.
This bitch wants me to keep me in the arena, and she has another thing coming.
After she left, I couldn't help but smile. I wanted to tell Jo everything I had said; I knew she would appreciate my words. But she never came.
They wouldn't let me leave that damn hospital room for three weeks, and only Haymitch and Prim ever came.
Prim.
She is safe, as it turns out, and that's one reason to celebrate. She comes to see me every day when her hospital rounds are finished. She catches me up on the goings on in 13—she's the reason I know that Johanna is absolutely safe and healthy. Prim sees her at breakfast every morning.
Haymitch brings me news, and tries to convince me to help Coin. When he knocks on the door, I almost turn him away, "Haymitch, I love to see you, but if you tell me I need to help Coin one more time, I'm kicking you out."
He smirks lightly, "Always a pleasure sweetheart," I simply glare at him.
"Look, I'll consider helping, but they have to do something for me," He groans slightly, but listens. "I need to be let out of this room, allowed to interact. You know I'm not a threat to anyone here, Haymitch. And you also know that I can't even begin to give this place a chance if I'm being treated like even more of a prisoner that I was in the Capitol."
He nods, "I told them that, but they wouldn't listen to me," he sighs. "I'll talk to her again tomorrow; give her your exact words. I can't make any promises."
He looks exhausted, and I know he's been fighting for me almost nonstop around here. Hell, he's been fighting for me almost nonstop for the last few years. I feel terrible for continually putting him in the situation, but I can't help it. "You understand why I can't do it, right Haymitch?"
He smiles tiredly, "It would be a hell of a lot easier if I didn't understand so well, Sweetheart."
It's another week before I'm let out, and even then it is under strict supervision. I'm moved in with Prim and my mother, though I didn't even realize she was here until I walk into the apartment.
I also have a strict schedule, required therapy and medication, and am required to attend various war planning meetings. I haven't agreed to be their Mockingjay yet, but I suppose I will have to soon enough.
I need to come up with a list of demands first, that was Haymitch's idea. He thinks that if I don't, they'll simply bulldoze over me, and manipulate me—he swears they're better than the Capitol, but I can see in his eyes that it's only barely.
On my first free morning I make my way towards the cafeteria, and that's when I see her. She is leaning causally against a wall with her eyes closed—the site of her takes my breath away.
It's been a month since I woke up, and I haven't seen her even once. A month since she kissed me and told me we were free. I've been dreaming of seeing her again, of simply touching her. A handshake, a nudge of the shoulder, anything which can confirm that she is actually real and alive.
I force myself to look away and walk purposefully towards the cafeteria. I sit down next to Prim, across from Gale, and I eat my cereal quietly. I don't look up again until I'm back in my room.
I curl into myself and place my head on my knees. I feel so terribly alone here, and I don't even seem to know which way is up. Maybe they're right, maybe I am mentally unstable. But I'm also alone.
Gale doesn't understand—not anymore. He can't understand. He absolutely worships Coin. And Prim is still so young.
I know I could talk to her, could try and make her understand. She probably would, better than most. But she's my baby sister. I volunteered as tribute so she wouldn't have to live through the games—I don't want her to experience them through me.
Peeta would understand, but he's dead—just the thought of him sends a painful shock through my chest. Finnick and Beetee are in the Capitol. And goodness knows my mother is no help.
My only friend is Johanna, and she isn't speaking to me. A deep seated rage flares up in me as I think of it. Why isn't she speaking to me? A glass shatters against the opposite wall. I suppose I must have thrown it, though I don't really remember.
All I know is that I'm suddenly pitching myself out of the door and storming down the hallway, frightening other citizens as I move through the halls. I find her quickly, she hasn't moved from her spot on the wall. When I grab her arm she jumps and moves to hit me. Her eyes are wild and petrified as she swings blindly.
A pang of guilt—I'm not the only one suffering. My rage calms, if only slightly.
"Shh," I whisper. "It's just me." She flinches as I pull her down the hall and through the twisting corridors. When we enter my apartment she pauses at the door, unsure.
I jerk her through and shut the door swiftly. "What's going on?" I snap. As much as I just want to hug her and tell her that she is the moon and stars to me, I don't. I need to know why she abandoned me. I need to know what I did wrong.
Her voice is quiet, weaker than I remember it, and she is trembling slightly. Who is this shell of a woman? "What are you talking about, Katniss?"
"The last time I saw you," my voice catches in my throat, "You told me you would see me at breakfast—that was a month ago. Why have you been avoiding me? What did I do?" I try not to shout, but I know I'm coming off harsher than I mean to. Saying it all outloud, really admitting it, is breaking my heart. I just need to understand what happened.
"I—I've been busy," she stutters. "I'm glad you're feeling better though."
"Busy?" I repeat disbelievingly, "For a month?"
She just looks at her feet and scratches her forearm irritably.
"Johanna, I'm smart. I know everyone around here seems to think I'm some sort of idiot, but I'm not. Something made you run, and if that's what you want to do, fine, but I think I deserve an explanation," I snap bitterly, "You don't have to love me, but damnit, don't ignore me."
Her eyes shoot up after my last statement, "I'm sorry," she whispers. "I should have come back."
"Why, Jo?"
"Katniss, it was my fault you almost died. I hit you too hard. I was just supposed to knock you out and take out the sensor, but I ended up putting you in a coma and nearly causing you to lose an arm! I made you trust me, and I tricked you," She rambles hysterically.
"You tricked me?" I ask, and I can feel my face paling. It was a trick, a part of the rebellion. Just a strategy. "I guess that explains everything than. I get it. You don't—you don't have to feel awkward," I mumble, stumbling over my words.
"No, no Katniss, that's not what I meant," she quickly pleads, but I'm not listening.
"It's fine Johanna, really. You knew I wasn't going to trust you easily; you had to befriend me—befriend me," I echo pathetically. "I get it."
"Katniss, shut up," she spits, and my head snaps up, I stare directly into her eyes. As cruel as it sounds, I'm thrilled to see the anger, pain and frustration shining in her eyes. It means that some of her personality is returning. "That isn't what I mean when I said I tricked you. Those last moments, the last kiss—that was a trick, a painful distraction so that I could knock you out. I had to do it, and I hate myself for it…But my friendship, my feelings, were never anything less than genuine."
"Then why didn't you come back?" I ask, trying to contain the desperate hope which seems to be echoing around my chest, I have to know. I can't be fooled again.
She takes a deep breath, and looks at her chewed of nails again, "I didn't want you to tell me," she whispers weakly. "I was sure that once you were fully awake, fully healed, you would realize that I had betrayed you. I was sure you wouldn't want to see me anymore. And I just didn't want to hear you tell me to leave… It was cowardly, but that's the truth."
"Really?" I whisper, afraid to believe her. "I won't fault you for the game and the plot—but if you play with me now, I don't know how I'll recover," I tell her honestly.
She steps closer to me, nervously twitching, "Katniss, I'm not playing around here. I…" she pauses for a moment, self-conscious and unsure. "I care about you, much more than I should have."
I smile carefully, stepping closer as well, but still afraid to touch, afraid that she'll suddenly disappear from my sight. "I care about you too, Johanna," I breath, our faces barely a foot apart.
As usual, she is the one to close the gap, and my heart soars. This kiss isn't a desperate or frightened as the others. It's slow, and careful. It's our first kiss which isn't saying goodbye, instead we are welcoming in something entirely new, and I love it.
I pull her closer and only pause for a moment to note how much weight she's lost. She's been just as lost as I have for the last month, and I only wish I could have helped her.
I pull her carefully onto the bed next to me, wanting her closer. "I'm not implying anything, I swear, I just want you near me."
She smiles mischievously at me, and I realize that I haven't seen that smile in quite some time. She hovers over me gently, her hand working its way under my shirt, gently grazing the soft skin of my sides. "What if I want you to imply something?" she asks me, her voice smooth and deep.
Just like that we're back on that roof top; moments before Haymitch came barging into our moment. She has one hand on my breast and the other in my hair as she kisses me desperately and passionately, and I feel loved.
3 I do love when the characters are feeling happy! This is much better than the ending to the last chapter! Just one chapter left, shoot me a review if you have something you would like to see! Maybe, just maybe, things can work out in your favor!
As always, thanks for reading, and please review!