Ruins. That's the only word that Johanna could come up with as they trudged through the smoldering remains of 12 with the camera crew. What they did to the Hob months ago - but replicated across the entire district. Their hovercraft had landed near the town square, and nearly a dozen circled overhead, keeping an eye out for any Capitol crafts coming in. Must protect the Mockingjay, Johanna thought acerbically to herself. There was no one to protect these innocent people. These people who deserved protection because they hadn't done anything except coincidentally share a district with her. Now their bones became the sidewalks and roads that Johanna and the crew traversed to film some inspirational bullshit for Plutarch.
"We haven't lived here since I was small," Johanna explained to Cressida as they stepped around piles of rubble inside her former home in the Seam.
"Where did you live, prior to your Games?" the blonde director asked, keeping pace with Johanna as they walked down what use to be a wide dirt road.
"The community home." Johanna pointed in the distance to a half-wall edifice, nearly burned to the ground. "That's where all the orphans lived. Or the kids whose parents couldn't afford to keep them." They reached the building, looking around at the small cots tossed on top of smoking gray rubble; toys and clothes strewn about or singed into a black clump.
Cressida visibly swallowed and the team looked down at their feet. In place of the thin carpeting that used to line the large common room, were soot, bones, and dust. It seemed to finally be dawning on the former Capitol residents that they were standing on the remains of innocent children.
"Let's keep going," Cressida ordered, clearing her throat and leading the team out of the community home.
The Victor's Village was practically untouched, probably for visiting Capitol reporters to stay in as they reported on the damage. Johanna entered their home, her nose filled with the smells of coal and fire. Without any direction from Cressida on what to do, she ventured into their rooms and began retrieving what she could to bring back to 13. She put on Katniss's father's hunting jacket, and sat down on the bed she had last shared with Katniss. The jacket smelled of leather but also distinctly like Katniss herself. Johanna plucked Katniss's pillow from her side of the bed and clutched it to her face, inhaling the scent of Katniss's shampoo.
A sob fought to escape her ribs but it stayed painfully inside her, ballooning in her chest. Two weeks had passed since they abandoned Katniss and Gale in the arena, and Snow had taken them prisoner in the old Training Center. Johanna spent the first week in District 13 in the hospital, oscillating between spitting mad and clinically depressed, unwilling to speak to anyone. John had coaxed her out and helped her negotiate a trip back home. He had a lot of pull around 13 since he was almost solely responsible for getting people out of 12 before the bombing.
"Johanna?" A soft, feminine voice broke Johanna's reverie and she looked to the doorway. Cressida. One of the few people Johanna could actually stand to be around. "They need us to wrap up. I'm done shooting, so grab what you need."
"Thanks," Johanna replied hoarsely, returning the pillow to its original position. Maybe one day they'd be back here. No, Johanna reminded herself. Katniss was probably dead. President Coin and Plutarch explained that there was no word on Katniss, which was not a good sign. In all probability, they'd killed her since she held no relevant information on the rebellion or Johanna's whereabouts. Katniss was gone, and like a flame in a room with no air, Johanna was gone, too.
She gathered herself and began picking up more things to bring back. Her father's axe, things of John and the girls', herbs and remedies for Mrs. Everdeen. Anything she could fit into the large duffel bag they had provided her, she took. District 13 was very strict about using hovercrafts and she was sure Coin was probably barking at them for having taken so long. Plus, the Capitol would most certainly come looking for them if the radar caught any blips near the ruins of 12.
A loud meow startled Cressida back on the main floor, causing her to trip over the cameraman Pollux, and Johanna rolled her eyes at the sight. Of course Buttercup would survive, the mangy feline. Johanna scooped him up, too, and plopped him in the bag. She zipped it closed and nodded to the blonde director.
Back on the hovercraft, she sat down next to her brother and rummaged around in the bag. Buttercup hissed and jumped out, curling behind Johanna's legs. Their father's axe - really a hatchet - was something of which he had been immensely proud. He'd made it himself out in the woods, from material he'd hunted and scraped by to get. He deplored the restriction on citizens owning weapons, often citing some rather antiquated edict he knew from their ancestors that stated everyone had the right to bear arms. His distrust of the Capitol was engrained in her DNA. Johanna desperately wished he were still here to guide her; he would know how to lead a rebellion.
"Here," Johanna said, removing the hatchet from her bag and handing it to John. Their father's initials - J.M. - were stenciled on the side. "It was Dad's. I think he'd want you to have it."
John took the hatchet from her, hefting the weight in his palms. "I wish he were here," he confessed, in a voice much younger than he seemed now. Now he was a hero, a soldier, nearly a man in the eyes of District 13. To Johanna, he was all of those things, but first and foremost he was her baby brother. The only remnant of family she had. The only thing left in the world she loved.
"Me too."
It was a short distance, only forty-five minutes by hovercraft, from 12 to 13, and it did little to settle Johanna's nerves. Knowing that 12 had been destroyed, and actually seeing it, was two very different things. There was no such thing as home anymore. No district to return to, no family to reunite with, and no Katniss. Johanna felt untethered to the world. The only thing grounding her was her brother. She looked over at him and watched as he twirled the axe in his hands. "I don't think that's regulation, so I'd keep it away from Soldier York," Cressida reminded with a grin.
John chuckled and nodded his head, tucking the hatchet tightly into his bag. "It's not, but I'll keep it." He looked down at her feet, where the dirty, twitching tail of Buttercup was flicking between her boots. "What about that guy?"
Johanna shrugged. "I'll give him back to Prim. I'm sure she'll be glad to see him. And nobody can deny the littlest Everdeen anything." Johanna nudged her brother. "You would know."
John blushed and scratched the top of his head. "Come on."
Johanna caught Cressida's eyes from across the hovercraft and the blonde woman smirked, but neither of them said anything more. John and Prim's blossoming romance was something that deeply embarrassed both young teens, but provided great entertainment for Johanna. "It's okay. I know what it's like to be a little hopeless for an Everdeen."
Her brother looked over at her solemnly, taking her hand in his. He squeezed it gently, trying to convey the words he knew better than to speak. That they would get Katniss and Gale back. That everyone would be okay. That everyone would be safe. But John knew, just as she did, that safe was something that did not exist any longer, if it ever existed at all.
Instead of her head doctor appointments, Johanna would use the time stamped on her arm for "therapy" to crawl inside a closet with warm copper pipes, and fall into a restless sleep away from the world. Unfortunately, her nightmares could crawl beneath the door and infiltrate her subconscious and she'd wake up screaming and get caught by security in an off-limits place. After about a month of this, guards began showing up outside her hospital room to escort her to the appointments.
"Glad to see you finally made it," the doctor snarked, raising her eyebrow from behind a stack of papers. Johanna wrenched free of the guards and walked into the room, her boots making little noise against the tile floor. In the few weeks since she'd returned from 12, she was finally able to get discharged from the hospital and put into normal clothes. Drab, but far better than what the hospital provided.
"The Mockingjay is a hot commodity," Johanna remarked, sitting down on the couch. She swung her legs upward and crossed them, laying back against the uncomfortable furniture.
The doctor pursed her lips. For all of Johanna's avoidance, she didn't hate the head doctor. Her name was Septima and she was a defector from the Capitol. In their first meeting, she explained that her parents came to 13 from the Capitol when she was just ten, some thirty years ago. They were doctors as well, but died of the pox plague that wiped out a lot of the population of 13, including President Coin's husband and kid. "As I've heard it, you haven't showed up to any of your other meetings as well." Johanna shifted in her seat, chastised. "The guards have told me that they found you screaming. Nightmares again?"
"I've had them since as long as I can remember," Johanna told her, rolling her eyes. "When my father died in the mine explosion, I started having nightmares. Then my mother offed herself." Johanna could picture her mother, swollen and purple, swinging from the ceiling of their dilapidated home. That used to bring her great shame. But now, she was numb to that embarrassment. She was numb to everything. "I had nightmares about that, too. That doesn't bother me so much anymore. Not when there are plenty of other monsters to haunt my dreams."
The older woman's amber eyes crinkled as she smiled. "I should remind you, that you are perfectly safe here in Thirteen."
Johanna scoffed. "Right."
Her doctor cleared her throat and folded her hands in her lap. Her skin was smooth, a beautiful shade of brown, like a hot cup of coffee. That wasn't something they had in 13, but Johanna remembered it from the Capitol. "Johanna, it occurs to me to tell you that you're not to blame for what happened in your home district. Or for what happened to Katniss Everdeen or Gale Hawthorne. The blame for that rests solely with President Snow."
Johanna sat up from her prone position and placed her feet flat on the floor. Her brown eyes scanned the room they were in, devoid of art or anything to give it color. Just like everywhere else, her office was a drab gray that seemed to suck the life out of everyone. She hated this colorless world. But Johanna had the nagging feeling that without Katniss, the world outside was colorless, too. "I knew," she whispered.
The doctor blinked in confusion. "You knew what?"
"I knew," Johanna began, "about the rebel plot. I knew and I didn't tell her. Don't you think that maybe if I had told her, she might not have gotten captured? She would have known the hovercraft was coming. She could have prepared for it. And then she would be here, with me, and not rotting in some Capitol cell."
Rotting was the best-case scenario. Katniss was dead. Gale was probably being tortured. Johanna squeezed her eyes shut and tried to remember the orientating statements the doctor taught her.
My name is Johanna Mason. I am eighteen years old. My home is District 12. I was in the Hunger Games. I survived. The Capitol hates me. The love of my life was taken prisoner. She is thought to be dead. It's probably best if she is dead.
"Miss Mason, there is no going back." Johanna rolled her eyes. The doctor sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. "You cannot undo what has been done. Holding on to that regret is like you drinking poison and expecting President Snow to die."
"He deserves a death worse than poison," Johanna grumbled.
"That he does," Septima agreed. "And can you deliver that death, wasting away in closets?"
"I'm not doing anything anyway!" Johanna interjected angrily, clenching her fists at her sides. "I prance around on video until the rebels take the Capitol? Is that what everyone expects?" Johanna cleared her throat. "You keep telling me I'm safe, and you know what? You're right. Of course I'm safe. He can't hurt me anymore. There's no one left that I love."
The doctor sighed. "On the contrary, he's still hurting you." Johanna leveled her bloodshot eyes at her. "Even if you could be certain Katniss and Gale were okay, their absence would still hurt you. He has rendered you unable to function on the level of which we all know you are capable."
"Right. Mockingjay business."
She nodded. "That's an important part of it." The woman stood, walking around from behind her desk. Septima was incredibly tall and graceful, and she reminded Johanna of an escort from the Capitol. But unlike Effie, Septima was brilliant; and her short, curly hair was no wig. "One of the reasons Thirteen took in the refugees from Twelve was because of your reputation. Johanna, you are the Mockingjay, body and soul. It's not just some image conjured up by Cinna." Cinna. One of the people Johanna negotiated with Plutarch to be removed from the Capitol at the start of the Games. She hadn't seen him yet, only heard whispers that he was designing something magnificent.
"It's not a thorny crown we placed on your head," the woman continued. "It's something you are. If you think you can escape it by hiding in closets, then you're very wrong."
Johanna's nostrils flared in anger. "What are you getting at?"
The doctor sat next to Johanna, crossing her long legs underneath her white jumpsuit. She was one of the only people not forced to dress in gray. "The people here - the residents, the Capitol defectors, even the President herself - they see you as a symbol. A point for the rebels to rally around. Your image, your voice, everything about you is important to the cause. But what they don't see, is that if you don't believe any of it, it won't work."
"And that's your job?" she snorted. "Make me believe I'm the Mockingjay?"
She chuckled and shook her head. "I think you already believe it. What I think - and I don't know that you're ready to hear it, but I'll tell you anyway - is that you feel guilty for believing it." Johanna shot her a glare and she raised her hand. "Hear me out. You've been here four and a half weeks. In that time you've done nothing but uninspired propos, laze around the hallways, and get in a lot of trouble. Point of fact, you've done a marvelous job at only one thing: wasting everyone's time and effort. Is that what you want to tell Katniss when she returns to you?"
"She's not returning to me," Johanna seethed. "She's dead."
"Is she? Are you clairvoyant?" Johanna had never heard that word before, but she took it as an insult and harrumphed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Johanna, you don't want to be the Mockingjay because you think you owe it to Gale and Katniss to suffer. That girl I saw in the arena who stood up to the Capitol, who befriended a little girl destined for death, who inspired not only her friends, but even strangers to stand up against President Snow's tyranny - that girl is in there. Gale and Katniss don't need you to suffer. They need you to be that girl."
"That girl is gone," Johanna whispered, blinking down to the floor.
Septima placed her fingers underneath Johanna's chin gently and picked it up. "She's not. But we need to draw her out."
The other victors were fairing a little better, other than Finnick Odair. Finnick, from what Johanna had heard, was mostly a lost cause. She wandered the hallways much like Johanna did; tying knots with bits of string and short rope they would give her. They refused to give her anything longer than six inches in fear that she'd try and kill herself. Johanna learned it was because the Capitol had Annie Cresta, the mad girl from District 4 that Finnick was in love with. The proud, athletic, resilient victor Johanna had always admired was nothing but a shell of herself, floating in and out of reality.
Cashmere was in good health. Once President Coin had sussed out that she was not a Capitol spy, she was integrated into their training program and was rising quickly through the ranks. Beetee was taken almost right from the hospital to a room deep within the catacombs of 13 to begin working on technological warfare and offering his expertise on existing Capitol technology. The only people Johanna spoke to were Effie, Haymitch, and random members of 13 who addressed her first. Soldier Boggs, President Coin's right hand man, was nice enough in her estimation. He was too close to Coin for Johanna to trust outright, but he was pleasant.
Haymitch appeared in the doorway of her compartment, looking haggard in his gray beanie cap. His eyes were sunken in, his entire face looking ten years older since they stopped letting him drink. "Johanna, come with me."
Johanna raised her eyebrow, twirling the 'mentally unstable' identifying bracelet on her wrist. "Why? I can't do another propo today, Haymitch. I'm too tired." President Snow's propaganda machine was churning out all sorts of bits about Johanna being a 'false prophet' and to combat this, they did tons of video of her inciting the rebels for the cause. It was exhausting.
"Not a propo," he said, his gravelly voice uneven. "It's an interview." Her curiosity piqued, Johanna slid off the hospital bed and padded behind him toward the room everyone referred to as "Command." Inside was Plutarch, the Head Gamemaker turned Rebel Leader, President Coin, Boggs, Cressida and her team, Effie, Beetee, Cashmere, John, and a few people she didn't recognize. Maybe she would if she hadn't slept through the Command meetings. Sitting at the end of the table, nearest to the door, was Finnick. Her blonde hair was unkempt, tangling in curls on the top of her head. Her beautiful sea green eyes were swimming, unfocused and lost. Johanna knew the feeling. She wanted to hate Finnick for allowing Gale and Katniss to be taken, but she couldn't even muster the hatred for someone so pathetic. Plus it was hard to stay angry with someone who cried so much.
The TV was switched on at the front of the room near President Coin, and the Capitol trumpets blared their usual opening riff. But instead of cutting to President Snow, it was the stage area where they were interviewed before the Games. Caesar Flickerman was there, plush in his blue suit and blue hair, smiling widely at the camera.
Johanna rolled her eyes at the image of Flickerman sparkling in his blue suit, until the camera pulled back to reveal Gale. A sound - somewhere between a gasp and groan like she had been submerged in water - escaped Johanna's lips as she looked at the screen. She elbowed her way to the front of the room, placing her hand on Gale's robust image. He wasn't dead. He was not tortured. He was alive and looked good, in that Capitol-buffed kind of way.
"You're alive," Johanna whispered to the screen. Please, let her be alive, too.
"Thought you'd seen the last of me," Gale remarked with a small smirk. Caesar nodded his head.
"I confess, I thought I did."
"So did I," Gale agreed with a shrug. "But apparently that wasn't the plan." Johanna ignored the looks from the room. Gale hadn't known about the plot. He didn't know there'd be a certain rescue. He only knew what he needed to survive the arena and keep Katniss from killing their allies. How Johanna wished she had told him everything. How she wished she could say anything to him now.
Caesar leaned toward him a little. "I think it was clear what your plan was. Sacrifice yourself in the arena so Katniss Everdeen could survive."
"That was it, clean and simple." Gale traced a pattern on the upholstered arm of the chair. He pulled at the end of his suit and looked up at Caesar. This was a marked change from the man in the interviews. Gale had been chatty then, unlike himself. But here he was with his stoic face and strong chin, unmoving and silent.
"Why don't you tell us about that last night in the arena?" Caesar suggested. "Help us sort a few things out."
Gale nodded, but waited a while before speaking. "To tell you about that last night, I have to explain to you what it's like being in that arena. It's like being an insect trapped underneath a dome of glass, suffocating in the steaming air. That jungle is all around you, green and alive and ticking. Every hour promising a new horror," he explained. "The rest of the world becomes very distant. All the people you loved are far away. The only reality is the new one: pink sky, green jungle, and red blood. And it's easy when the plan is to survive, but I've never played that way."
"No? Not even the first time?"
Gale shook his head. "No, the first time I went in, I went in with the thought that I would get Johanna out alive. And I did, and by luck, I got out alive too. The second time, I was saving my other best friend, Katniss. Everything else became secondary." All for me, Johanna thought sourly. I did this to you, she thought.
"And that last night?"
Gale glared at him with impatience. "You need to understand. That last night, it got complicated."
"Because of your allies," Caesar led.
Gale shrugged. "Because of everything. Katniss and I were trying to keep each other alive, but it's not like we wanted the others to die. The Hunger Games have always had one purpose: to keep the districts at war with one another. The kids who get reaped each year, they don't know the difference. But the tributes this year, they were not kids. They were victors, friends, and family. People who have seen Panem and know that from District One to District Twelve, the only difference is how hard the boot of the Capitol is pressing on your neck."
"You know that the others knew about the rebel plot," Caesar deflected, clasping his hands on his lap. "All of your allies knew, but you two did not? Why did Katniss Everdeen blow out the force field, then?"
"I don't know!" Gale shouted curtly.
Caesar was not frazzled by Gale's impatience. "Your other victor, Johanna Mason, she knew. Perhaps she told Katniss, but hadn't told you?"
"No!" Gale yelled back, gripping the armchair in anger. "Don't you think if she knew, she'd be with the rebels and not here in the Capitol?" Johanna's breath caught in her throat. Gale knew where Katniss was. She was there with him. "I wish we did know! I wish I had known about the plot; I would've taken the whole damn thing down myself!" He turned his angry expression to the camera. "Johanna, if you're listening, don't stop. Don't stop what we started, what we sacrificed for. She's alive, Johanna."
There was a gasp in the room, and it took Johanna a few beats to realize it came from her own chest. "Alive," she repeated.
Caesar looked nervously to the camera, then back to Gale. "Gale, certainly you realize how costly this war has been on both sides. Resources are scarce. Many of the rebels and their sympathizers have been killed."
"And they'll kill me, too," he shot back, looking from Caesar to the camera. "Get our girl, Johanna!" Two Peacekeepers came on camera, taking Gale by each of his arms. He struggled hard against them. "Get her, get to the Capitol and burn it down!"
Burn it down. Those were the last words Gale spoke before blood splattered the camera lens and the broadcast was cut. President Coin switched off the televisions and turned to the group. People began cheering for Gale but Johanna couldn't enjoy their revelry. Gale was dead now. He was of no use to Snow if he couldn't be a tool to convince the rebels to put down their guns.
"Stupid boy," Haymitch muttered. He leveled his blue eyes at Johanna, full of sympathy and anguish. "They're going to kill him now."
"They would have killed him anyway," Johanna replied coldly.
"They might kill him," Coin reasoned, focusing her pale eyes at Johanna. "But he is of much more use alive to President Snow than dead. I fear they'll give him a fate worse than death."
Johanna raised an eyebrow. "Indoctrination," Beetee supplied softly. Johanna moved her eyes to the other former victor. "They'll brainwash him. Make him support the cause, try to get the others to see you as the enemy."
"Brainwash?" Johanna asked at the foreign-sounding word.
"Sort of like hypnosis." That she remembered. Plenty of times in 12, townsfolk would perform magic tricks, especially during the Harvest Festival. One woman in town could hypnotize anyone. She had once gotten the jovial Peacekeeper Darius to bray like a donkey for about twenty minutes. "Make him forget who he is. Forget who the enemy is."
Johanna's heart seized in her chest. If Gale was not a rebel, he was nothing.
Sleep didn't come to her that night. Instead, Johanna took the hallways again to find the closet she enjoyed. At least there she could think without the interruption of doctors or guards. The hallways were disorienting, all looking remarkably similar and none of them seeming to lead anywhere. Johanna walked through them for nearly an hour before coming to a hallway that looked somewhat familiar.
Johanna approached a closet door with a light on inside, and upon opening it, found Finnick inside. The blonde victor was sitting in the fetal position, manipulating a small rope with her fingers. Johanna closed the door behind her and sat next to Finnick against the wall, watching the girl twist and turn the knot in her hands.
"Can't sleep," Finnick said, not looking up from her knots. How far they were from the same scenario out on the roof - two former victors, unable to sleep, looking for distraction. But now they were broken to pieces, struggling to keep their flimsy grip on reality.
"Me either." Johanna hugged her knees to her chest. "I'm going to agree to be the Mockingjay."
Finnick looked up from her knots, her sea-green eyes wary but earnest. "Yeah? Because you want to or because you feel forced to?"
Johanna chuckled. "Does it matter? I have to help the rebels. Gale, tonight, he..." Johanna gulped. "He's probably dead because of what he said, you know. He's wasting away in a Capitol cell and I'm in a closet with the remains of Finnick Odair." Finnick glared at her. "I need to be strong."
"You are strong," Finnick encouraged. "It takes ten times as long to put yourself together as it does to fall apart." Johanna nodded. "Is there any word on Katniss?"
Johanna shook her head. "No. They think everyone is being held in the Training Center, but they can't be sure." Johanna met Finnick's eyes. "Do you really think she's still alive?"
"Of course she's alive," Finnick dismissed. Johanna narrowed her gaze at her and Finnick shrugged. "Why do you think they have her? They know she didn't know about the plot. Neither did Annie."
Annie, the only person in the world Finnick cared about. Johanna's gaze softened. "That's what they're doing to us. Keeping them to break us." Katniss wasn't alive because of Gale. Katniss was alive because of her. Because Snow knew as long as he had Katniss in his clutches, Johanna was at his mercy.
"But that's a mistake," Finnick said after a long period of silence. "Breaking us. Especially you, girl on fire. You're from the coal district; you've seen what fire does. It solders things." Finnick firmed up her stare, looking less lost than she had since they'd arrived. "You will be whole again. And they do not want a Johanna that's whole. I know her, and she's downright frightening."
Johanna paused. If she was the Mockingjay, she might have more pull around 13. And more pull around 13 meant perhaps getting Gale and Katniss back. "Do you think I could do it? Ask them to rescue Gale and Katniss and Annie?" Johanna asked, renewed hope in her eyes.
The hope seeped from Johanna's eyes to Finnick's. "I do. You be their Mockingjay, and we can get them back." The knot in Finnick's hand was suddenly finished, and she took it apart to begin again. "I'll help, too, tell them. Do whatever I can."
"Maybe a nice calendar spread," Johanna suggested with a smirk, nudging Finnick with her shoulder. "To raise the spirits of the districts."
Finnick looked up at her drolly. "You would love that, wouldn't you?" she teased. The older girl eyed her up and down and tugged her lower lip between her teeth. "Can't say I'm not curious, though." Her thin lips spread into a grin and Johanna rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the blush on her cheeks.
Johanna could feel the heat of Finnick's breath brush over her face. "Curiosity killed the cat."
Finnick's grin never relented, her eyes dipping down to Johanna's lips, then back up to her gaze. "And satisfaction brought it back." The blonde girl licked her lips and expelled a sigh. "Life is a curious thing, isn't it? Perhaps another time, another set of circumstances."
"Might never have been right, though," Johanna replied with a shrug, tearing her eyes away from Finnick's penetrating gaze. No wonder she was so popular in the Capitol - those eyes could make a storm change direction.
"Maybe never right, but it would've been pretty damn good," she winked. Finnick's focus fell away and she returned her attention to her knots. At least Johanna had a mission now. Finnick was right - if Snow wanted her to be broken, she'd have to be whole. She would be more than whole. She would be formidable. She would be the Mockingjay. "And Johanna?"
The younger girl looked over at the victor. "Yeah?"
"Make sure President Coin - make sure she doesn't do anything to them. Annie, I fear she might say something under duress. She wouldn't mean it, but you never know. I don't think Coin would treat traitors with any fairness, regardless of their capacities."
Johanna placed her hand on Finnick's thigh. "I'll make sure nothing happens to Annie."
Finnick gave her a small smile, but it never reached her eyes. They were still uncharacteristically serious. "I'm gonna hold you to that, Mockingjay."
Johanna took the next two weeks to make strides in her rehabilitation. She went to her head doctor meetings dutifully, and began doing the low-level workouts with the young teenagers. It was refreshing to do something athletic, to try and get her withering body back into some kind of shape. She even attended Command meetings and stayed awake and responsive the whole time. After Soldier York recommended she go into a higher-level class, Johanna felt confident enough to make her request to President Coin.
"Hey John," Johanna called across the room to her brother, who was dutifully studying his military book. He was too young for the military technically, only just having turned 12, but upon arriving in 13 they allowed him to begin the training program instead of enrolling in the school. John's already militaristic personality, coupled with his status as a hero for rescuing the resident of 12 and athletic prowess, made him an easy fit into the classes.
"Yeah?" He placed the book down and swung his legs off the bed, hopping to the floor.
"I'm going to agree to be the Mockingjay," Johanna informed him, anxiously pacing back and forth on the floor. "But before I do, I'm going to make President Coin agree to a few of my terms."
John smirked but nodded his head. He went to their desk and pulled out a sheet of looseleaf paper and a pencil and pulled the chair out for her. "She's not exactly the compromising type, but they're desperate for the Mockingjay."
Johanna sat in the proffered chair. "That's what I'm counting on."
Together they wrote a list of demands.
1. I kill Snow.
2. Rescue Katniss, Gale, and Annie. Immunity for all the victors.
John furrowed his brow. "Who's Annie?"
"Annie Cresta, the victor from District 4 a few years ago?"
John narrowed his eyes. "Why do we care?" Johanna smirked at his use of the word "we." He really was a District 13 boy now. Either that, or so much death and destruction had narrowed the scope of his compassion.
"She's Finnick's..." She didn't know what she was to Finnick. Only one word came to her mind. "Finnick's lifeline."
It took a few moments, but then John nodded his head. "She's Finnick's Katniss."
Johanna's throat seized and she battled the oncoming wave of disorientation. "Right."
"I was thinking," John started, "that maybe if you and I could go up to the surface, we could do some hunting together. I got really good with the bow and arrow." Johanna mused on that. She had been going a little stir crazy. "I think it would be good for us. Good for you, mostly. I know you're trying down here, but this is not who you are. The whole scheduled routine thing."
Johanna rolled her eyes and put the pencil to the paper. "More than you know."
3. Hunting time for John and me.
4. Finnick
"Finnick?" John questioned.
Johanna nodded. "She's in rough shape. I think she might benefit from going to the surface, too. I saw a lake out there. It would do her some good to get in the water again." She put down her pencil and sighed. "Anything else you can think of?"
John lifted the pencil and scribbled one more thing on the list.
5. Prim keeps Buttercup.
Johanna planted her tongue firmly in her cheek and John shrugged. "As long as he is inside by curfew, I don't think they'll care much." Johanna continued to stare at him, but he ducked his gaze and went back to his bed, picking up his military volume again. "It's not because I like her or anything. I'd just feel bad if they killed him. They don't understand the concept of pets around here."
The older girl chuckled and folded the paper into a small square, and placed it on her desk for the following day.
It wasn't a lot to ask for, but Johanna knew her bargaining with President Coin was going to be difficult. The first two were the only ones she went in with knowing would be non-negotiable. It had brought Johanna some pride, and some entertainment, to see John throw his weight about to schedule an uninterrupted meeting with President Coin. With him at her side, they walked into Coin's office - a small, but high-tech affair with many screens projecting the states of various districts on the walls. Plutarch sat next to her, poring over some plans on her desk.
President Coin looked up from her work, giving Johanna a small, but rather thin smile. "Miss Mason." She looked to John and her smile became a bit more genuine. "Soldier Mason."
John straightened his posture and Johanna looked to him before gazing back at President Coin. "I will be your Mockingjay," Johanna began, shaking hands clutching her paper, "but I have a few requests."
"Requests?" Coin repeated flatly.
"Yes." Johanna cleared her throat and looked at her brother, who nodded in encouragement. "When we take the Capitol, I kill President Snow."
President Coin actually completely smiled at that. "When the time comes, I'll flip you for it." Johanna remembered Gale having said that just before their Games. Could that really have only been a year or so ago? Gale would want to kill Snow. Johanna knew that right was hers now. She had lost far more. If Coin was going to do the job, at least Johanna knew it would get done.
"Fair enough." She continued on. "I want full immunity for the prisoners in the Capitol. Katniss, Gale, Annie, and Enobaria." Johanna didn't care about Enobaria, but it seemed cruel to leave her out. "And I want you to agree to it publicly, and you and your government will be held responsible for their well-being."
"Absolutely not," Coin replied immediately.
"It isn't their fault you abandoned them in the arena!" Johanna spat, clenching her fists. Her brother placed his hand on her back and she inhaled a few deep breaths. "Then find another Mockingjay. I'm more than willing to wait this out. Because I don't know if Katniss is alive, and without her, I couldn't care less what happens to Panem."
Coin and Plutarch gave each other a look. There was a long silence before Coin spoke again. "Fine. Anything else?"
"You will rescue them."
President Coin blinked, but did not give away any emotion. Plutarch didn't hide the surprise, or the glint of amusement in his eyes. "Johanna, that is a highly dangerous mission to take on."
"I don't care," Johanna dismissed. "You will rescue them, all of them, and grant them full immunity." John tensed beside her but Johanna stood firm. "I'm a victor, President Coin. You may think that means that I value my life, enough to kill other people for it, but it doesn't. I'm only a survivor. I can think of one thousand ways to survive that don't include me being the Mockingjay. And to be honest, my life means less than nothing to me. But you," she looked between them, "you value me," she pressed hotly. "And if you want a Mockingjay that actually gives a fuck about this rebellion, then give me a reason to care."
Plutarch's grin broke open on his face. "That's the Mockingjay we've been missing. Not exactly an inspiring speech, but there she is."
President Coin briefly looked to Plutarch with just the barest hint of disdain. "I will speak with Boggs and if we can come up with a plan to infiltrate the Capitol and rescue the victors, we will."
Johanna nodded. "I want hunting time for my brother and me."
The woman sighed but gave Johanna a quick nod. "Granted. Two hours as your schedule permits, deducted from your training. All game must be brought to the kitchen. You'll stay within a quarter-mile radius and wear your communicuff and ankle trackers." Johanna scratched her neck. "Anything else?"
Johanna tried to focus again. "Finnick."
President Coin lifted an eyebrow. "What about Finnick? Do you want her by your side at all times? Do you want her presented as your new lover?"
There was no malice in her tone, but Johanna couldn't help her jaw falling open in shock. "W-what?"
"I don't think that's wise," Plutarch interjected. "A defection from Katniss or Gale may cause the rebels to lose sympathy for her." Johanna squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. Is that what the rebels thought? She was some point on a love triangle?
"That's not what I meant," Johanna interrupted curtly. "I meant for her to come up, too. Come hunting with us."
"Finnick Odair is still considered mentally unfit by her doctors," President Coin informed in an even tone.
"That's because you're holing her up in this rabbit warren without Annie Cresta. At least let me give her something. She agreed to cooperate on any propos in the future, if you agreed to the rescue," Johanna bargained.
President Coin weighed this, and Johanna could see the calculation in her eyes. "Granted. I will make sure Cressida and her team gets in touch with Finnick Odair to begin getting her fit for propos. Anything else?"
Johanna's eyes widened. Was there anything else? She looked down at her paper to see John's neat script. She smiled. "Oh. Primrose Everdeen gets to keep her cat."
The food was getting incrementally better in 13 as the districts were liberated. Johanna sat across from Mrs. Everdeen and Prim, smiling as Prim prattled on about what she was learning in her doctor-in-training program. She hadn't seen much of either Everdeen, but with both of them in the hospital at all times, it was hard to see anyone. Besides, Johanna was inundated with guilt about Katniss's capture.
Prim was called away by a friend in her program, and Johanna stared down at her stew. "Johanna," Mrs. Everdeen called softly. Johanna looked up from her plate. "I want to say, I'm very glad to see you out and about now."
"I'm sorry," Johanna replied, shaking her head. "I know this hasn't been easy on anyone."
"Least of all you," the older woman replied kindly. "I know you blame yourself for my daughter's capture, but we knew the risks when she volunteered for you. I had the unfortunate task of trying to make my peace with never seeing her again." Johanna swallowed thickly. "It was even more difficult when I thought she had sacrificed her life for nothing." Her tone took a sharper edge and Johanna dropped her gaze to her tray again. "I'm glad to see that perhaps her actions were not in vain."
Johanna bit her lip and raised her eyes. "I miss her," she confessed. Other than Prim, Mrs. Everdeen was probably the only person who understood how large of a hole Katniss made in her absence.
Mrs. Everdeen nodded, a little bit of wetness lining her bottom eyelid. "As do I."
"He left!" Prim's frantic voice came shouting at them and both women turned their heads. The little blonde ran toward the table, skidding short of running right into them. "He left, he left without saying goodbye!"
"Who left?" her mother asked, narrowing her eyes.
Prim's blue eyes darted between them. "John!" Johanna tensed, dropping her fork on her tray. "They left for the Capitol. They're going to rescue them." Prim's hopeful voice was encapsulated in fear. "Coin okayed the mission and they left about thirty minutes ago!"
Left thirty minutes ago. Gone to rescue them. Her brother. Katniss. Gale.
Johanna abruptly left the table and pressed her head between her hands. My name is Johanna Mason. I am eighteen years old. My name is Johanna Mason. I am eighteen years old. My home is - Johanna ran smack into another solid body, which quickly caught her by her forearms before she could fall.
"I'm guessing you just found out," Finnick said flatly, firming her grip on Johanna's biceps. She was finally dressed in normal clothes - a jumpsuit and a pair of military boots. Her hair was styled up - clearly something the prep team had done - and she looked almost like herself again. "They just told me, too. Your brother went. So did Cashmere."
"Cashmere?" Johanna was still disoriented and the name created dissonance in her head.
"You remember her. Tall, blonde, kinda bitchy?" Finnick joked, looping her arm through Johanna's to pull her through the hallways. "She volunteered. The entire mission consisted of volunteers, led by Boggs. Coin seems to think they'll be back within twelve hours."
Johanna's eyes widened. Twelve hours. "What do we do?"
Finnick shrugged as she brought Johanna into her compartment. It looked much like the one she shared with John, but there were dozens of ropes hanging everywhere in various knots. Finnick sat her on the bed and handed her a length of rope. "We do the only thing we can do. Not give in to the darkness. And wait."
"They're back!" Prim's voice startled Johanna awake, having fallen asleep on Finnick's lap hours earlier. The two victors sprung to their feet, taking off down the hallways together. Johanna elbowed her way through the other 13 residents, ignoring their cross looks or shouts of displeasure. She saw Cashmere first, looking relatively unhurt. She was bent over, her hands on her knees. The blonde gave her a quick smile.
"You okay?" Johanna asked, anxiousness in her voice. She didn't really care how Cashmere was, but the girl did go on a highly dangerous mission for her benefit.
"We gassed the rooms to smoke people out," Cashmere explained as she sucked in deep breaths. A doctor handed her a mask connected to an oxygen tank and she took a big inhale before removing it. "I went in a little early when I heard Gale's voice. Then he passed out and I almost passed out. Luckily your brother got my mask on before I looked like a giant fool in front of the squad. He's a good soldier, your brother," Cashmere remarked. "He's in the next room," she said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder.
Johanna quickly raced into the room she was pointing at without saying goodbye. John was dripping with sweat, sitting atop a hospital cot as a doctor removed his helmet and took off his gloves for him. There was a burn mark streaking across his wrist, but otherwise he looked okay. Without regard to the doctor Johanna rushed to him and gathered her brother in a hug. "You little bastard," she whimpered into his ear.
John pulled away, running his fingers through his wet, cropped hair. He said nothing, just looked beyond Johanna at another cot that was behind a curtain. They shared a knowing look and Johanna released him from her hold and she walked over, opening the curtain to reveal the bloodied and bruised, but very alive body of Gale. His cheeks were sunken in a bit, gashes and bruises all over his face. The part of his chest exposed from the hospital's gown was covered in scars as well, all fresh and pink.
"Gale," she whispered. He looked up at her, narrowing his eyes for a moment in what seemed to Johanna to be suspicion. Then they widened and he gave her a big, if painful, smile. "Damnit, Hawthorne, I thought I lost you." Johanna moved forward and gingerly brought him into her arms. It felt cathartic to have his strong arms embrace her, even though he was in a weakened state. She pressed her lips against the side of his neck as they hugged, nuzzling in his scent. "Welcome back."
"Johanna." At the tone of his voice, Johanna backed out of his hug and looked at him sternly. The smile was wiped from his face. Behind her, she heard a squeal that broke the tension for a moment.
"Finnick!" A bedraggled red-haired girl ran forward in her hospital gown, leaping into the waiting arms of Finnick. They embraced closely, then spun and crashed against the wall. Finnick's fingers were nestled in the girl's hair, their bodies touching at every possible inch of skin between them.
Johanna turned back to Gale, who looked from the happy couple back to Johanna. Slowly, it dawned on her. Her heart sank like a stone directly into her stomach. There was someone very important missing from this reunion. "Gale..."
"They didn't find her," Gale revealed in a soft voice, looking just as disappointed and devastated as Johanna felt. "She wasn't with me. I mean, she was at first. We could hear each other - through the walls. But a week or so ago, I stopped hearing her."
"You... you mean..." It was incomprehensible. You are mine and I am yours. Anything else is unthinkable.
Gale nodded solemnly, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Jo, I'm sorry. I think - I think Katniss is dead."
Author's Note: Thanks for all the love on this story. I've got the next few chapters mapped out - because Johannas-Motivational-Insults is a bad/productive influence - so hopefully updates won't be so far apart. And, of course, thanks to JMI for her help and her beta read.