Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork.
Making Regrets
by FanficAllergy & RoseFyre
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Theme: 24: Lust
Words: 817
Summary: Not everything goes according to plan. Especially not where Johanna Mason is concerned.
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Haymitch hated to admit it, but Chaff was right. From the moment he discovered there was a community of Victors - mentors for the mentors, so to speak - on the victory train he knew he should have just let himself die in the Arena. Not only did he have to know just how to solicit sponsors and do exit interviews, but also mentor etiquette. How to get something without having to give something. Namely yourself.
The Capitol always exacted a price. In blood. The trick was to know which vein to offer.
Victors looked out for Victors. They were a select group, and district loyalties lost in the face of shared experiences. Each year, one veteran Victor was nominated to break the new Victor in. Not just on how to survive the Mentor process, but also the Circuit - Snow's euphemism for sexual slavery. It was up to the Veteran to give the newbie a moment of pleasure with someone who understood what they were about to go into before the Capitol cronies destroyed them. The Victors were already broken. It was the only comfort they could offer.
The new Victor could refuse, of course; Haymitch did, and regretted it. Which was why, when his name came up to take the new Victor, Johanna Mason, underneath his wing, he made sure to spell out just what she was getting into.
"They're going to eat you alive, little one. Literally. Make you scream until the Arena looks like a pleasant memory. You think that tribute, Titus, was bad? The Capitol is worse. They'll take what's left of your innocence and eat it like it's a gourmet dessert."
Johanna shot him a look, a glare. "I'll be fine, old man."
"That's what I thought. I was wrong. Don't you make the same mistakes I did."
"You're just saying this to get a taste of me! You're disgusting. Well, screw you!" She stormed away before Haymitch could say any more.
Blight looked up from where he'd been watching. "I'll try to talk to her, but I doubt it will do any good."
"Thanks, I'd hate to see the Capitol crush her spirit."
"You and me both."
It didn't matter.
Just like Haymitch had expected, and like Blight predicted, Johanna refused. Screamed. Cursed.
He knew she was going to regret it.
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Johanna hated to admit it, but Haymitch was right. Not that she'd ever tell him that. Not that she'd apologize for the things she'd said or the names she'd called him. Losing her virginity to the washed out Victor would have been miles better than what actually happened.
The Minister who bought her wanted to hear her scream like she did in the Arena, and when she wouldn't, he cut her open until she did. As the tears streamed down her face, he tore away the last of her innocence.
After the medics healed her, after she refused her second client and lost her family, after Snow made it clear she couldn't refuse a third, she sought out Haymitch again. "Is your offer still open?"
He gave her a look. "It's not going to bring your family back. It's not gonna take the memories away."
"I don't care." Her fingernails dug into her palms. "Give me new ones. Better ones."
Haymitch stared at her, slow and assessing, before nodding. "If that's what you want, meet me at the elevators at nine."
She hoped she didn't regret it.
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Haymitch was right, but this time Johanna was willing to admit it.
Their encounter didn't take the memories away. It didn't bring her family back. But it did do what she hoped: gave her an anchor to latch onto. Gave her an experience that let her know that not every encounter was full of pain and degradation. Someplace she could hide her mind away. A safe harbor.
Through her third client, her fourth, her tenth, she held onto that experience, imagining Haymitch in lieu of whatever Capitolite had bought her. It was the only way she kept ahold of her tenuous sanity.
Each year afterward, she would seek him out, ask for a rehash of their first night. When their bodies met on sweaty sheets, hiding the scent of sickeningly sweet perfumes and sounds of even sicker people, she held tight to every detail, turning them into a shield against the horrors she was about to undergo.
It wasn't love. It was barely even lust. What it was, what it truly was, was comfort.
So when her name came up as the mentor for one Peeta Mellark, she knew what she had to do. Could she be the anchor instead of needing one? She didn't know. But she was damn well going to try.
She hoped he wouldn't make the same mistake she did.
That the gentle boy from Twelve wouldn't regret it.
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Too bad the Capitol had other plans.
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AN:
Written: 7/2/18
Revised: 7/4/18
Johanna and Haymitch came up in the randomizer, and while we do like them as a pairing, we didn't want to do the setup required to write a nice long fic. And we didn't want to write smut - we get paid to do that, and if we're not writing it for original, it's going to be in a longer story as part of the plot (aka Let Me Fly).
So...have a canon-compliant bittersweet piece. Oops?
You can get more information about our original writing here:
Website: RoseLarkPublishing
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