"Move, move, move, move!" Soldier York barked, pacing on the side of the obstacle course. Johanna wiped sweat from her brow and grabbed the rope at the bottom of the wooden pyramid and began pulling herself up. With all her gear on - thick black pants, heavy boots, thick long-sleeved shirt with a bulletproof vest of armor, as well as a modified helmet and her weapon - she was about forty pounds heavier than normal. Her muscles strained but she climbed the pyramid and slid down the other side. Her feet pounded against the track as she jogged to the next obstacle - something John had nicknamed "The Butt-Freeze." A slide into freezing cold water that had a fence on top of it to keep you from popping up for air. The soldier had to swim underneath the fence for about fifteen feet, then emerge and hoist him or herself over a five-foot wooden wall. The name was apropos because the slide into the water - always done feet first - really did freeze your butt.

She tossed her rifle to John over the pool and gasped as she hit the water. Johanna submerged herself in it and swam through to the other side. John was there to help her over the embankment and hand her back her gun, and they waited for Finnick to come behind her. "Pick it up, Mermaid!" Johanna yelled, catching Finnick's gun that the blonde tossed to her. Of course, Finnick took about half a second to swim the length and emerged with a flourish, pulling herself up without any issue.

"Keep it up!" her brother shouted to them, clapping his hands in support. John was in the accelerated courses but had requested to help train Johanna and Finnick, as well as Gale, once he was finally released from the hospital. His experience showed in that he wasn't even winded from the exercises, whereas Johanna and Finnick were nearly out of breath. The two victors urged on, though, fueled by their mutual desire to get to the Capitol. They were not far from the invasion; only District 2 had yet to fall into rebel hands. Once the military base was under rebel control, the Capitol was not far off. Less than a few weeks. Johanna could almost taste Snow's blood.

They all ran to the last obstacle, the close combat range. Each of them opened their weapons and ducked behind makeshift barriers, crouched on the ground. "You have thirty seconds. Get through without hitting any civilians, take out all targets," York instructed.

This was Johanna's favorite part. The quarters were so close she could abandon her gun - which was only average with - and start using her axes. With practiced ease, the three of them maneuvered through the pop-out targets. Some of them were painted as white Peacekeepers, some of them as innocent children or residents of the districts. Johanna twirled her axe and slammed it into one Peacekeeper, rewarded with a burst of fake red blood. Finnick used her gun to take out the last guy, hitting him square in the forehead.

Finnick holstered her pistol and braced her hands on her knees, panting heavily. "Shit, Masons. You guys are good." She shook the icy water from her hair and slicked it back. Even sweating and soaking wet, Finnick Odair was a sight to behold. It hadn't taken her long once Annie was brought back to her, for Finnick to regain the vitality she once had. Only two weeks had gone by, and Finnick was like a new woman. Not the smoldering Capitol harlot from the Games, or the broken shell Johanna encountered in 13. She was something wholly new - vibrant and self-effacing, witty and kind. If only Katniss were here to see the transformation. Johanna shook her head and tried to regain her focus.

Johanna draped her arm over her little brother's shoulders and rubbed her knuckles against the top of his damp head. "That District Twelve stereotype is a bunch of shit, right kid? We're fighters."

John nodded his head but wrenched free of Johanna's playful teasing grasp. "I outrank you out here, you know," he remarked haughtily with a grin. "No teasing your superiors. Isn't that right, Soldier York?"

"No one outranks the Mockingjay," Johanna proclaimed in a voice similar to Claudius Templesmith, standing with her feet apart, chin held high, and her arms akimbo, as if a cape should have waved behind her.

"Don't let President Coin hear you say that," Soldier York warned. The older woman held the barest of smiles for a moment, but her lips fell back into their usual line. Her deep brown eyes still twinkled with humor. "You've all still got a lot of training to do. But your competence is duly noted, Soldier Mason." John beamed with pride temporarily, then remembered his sense of military decorum and cleared his throat and stood up straight. Soldier York looked to the women. "Soldier Mason and Soldier Odair, you're dismissed."

Johanna and Finnick took off their helmets and vests and hung them on the rack, and placed their rifles and pistols back on the weapons wall. Johanna rolled up her sleeve and took a quick look at the inside of her forearm - 16:00 Special Weaponry. "What do you have next?" she asked Finnick as they walked back to the building.

Finnick pulled her sleeve up as well. "Look's like we're headed to the same place. I wonder what Volts has cooked up for us." Boggs appeared in front of them as they waited for the elevator, and he stoically nodded to them. "Soldier Boggs, to what do we owe the pleasure?"

Boggs chuckled and stepped into the elevator with them. "I think you know that's not how we address people here, Soldier Odair."

"Yes, but the way you do it is boring," Finnick complained. "Pardon me for trying to liven up the place." Finnick rolled her eyes as the elevator doors closed, and she began untying her boots. Johanna and Boggs watched with identical expressions of amusement and confusion as Finnick stepped out of her boots and her socks. She stripped off her pants, and then pulled her shirt off of her head. Clad now in just her standard issue white bra and underwear, she smirked at their faces of shock. "What?" She struck a seductive pose and batted her long eyelashes. "Do you find this distracting?"

"I'm only human, Odair," Johanna replied drolly. Finnick threw her a wink and she collected her clothes.

"I'm going with you to Special Weaponry," he interrupted them, visibly uncomfortable with Finnick's near nudity. The elevator opened to their level of compartments and he stood outside the doors. "Get changed, report back in ten minutes." He narrowed his eyes. "In full uniform, Odair."

Johanna nodded and silently navigated to her compartment. For a day or so after the rescue, Johanna never left her bed. Not to eat, not to report to any meetings. She just lay in her bed and allowed her sadness to consume her, letting the howling wolf of grief gnaw at her from the inside out. However, anger rapidly began filling the holes the grief left inside her. Within a few days' time she boiled with rage and awoke anew, eager to begin training for the eventual assault on the Capitol. The training was grueling, but it was easy to lose her mind in it. For once, the strict scheduling of 13 worked in her favor. Not one minute of her time was unaccounted for. Studying the books during Reflection, training with Finnick, visiting Gale, hunting with John. All of it served as a distraction to the thought that was in her mind every day, all day.

Katniss.

"Johanna?" The timid voice called from the other side of her closed door and Johanna grunted in frustration.

"Come in," she called to the anonymous visitor, sitting down on her chair to lace up her boots. Primrose slowly opened the door and slid it closed behind her, taking a few steps into their compartment. Her blue eyes darted to John's side of the room - which was vacant as he was still in training - then back to Johanna. "He's got training until Reflection," Johanna explained with a small smile.

Prim blushed. "I'm not here for him, but thank you. I'm actually here to see you." Johanna blinked in surprise but swept her arm back to invite Primrose closer into the room. Johanna hadn't seen Prim or Mrs. Everdeen since news came back that Katniss was not among those rescued. Nobody could confirm or deny Gale's theory that she was dead. Johanna chose to believe she was. It was easier than holding on to some false hope, just to be heartbroken in the end. Either way, the guilt she felt about letting Katniss get captured and killed was more than she could bear. And the loneliness...

"What's up?"

Prim fidgeted with her hands in front of her, chewing on her bottom lip. Despite her market looks, Prim still maintained some of Katniss's mannerisms. Tugging on her bottom lip when she was in thought was among them. "I know that the intel suggests that Katniss is dead."

Johanna looked up in surprise, leaning her elbow on her knee. The vernacular didn't sound like Prim. "Who told you that?"

The young blonde shrugged. "People talk a lot, in the hospital. I took care of some of the rebels who went into the Capitol. The floor they kept Annie Cresta, Gale, and Enobaria on was a hospital section, or so they said. Once they cleared it, they left because there were Capitol hovercrafts incoming."

"And?"

"And I was thinking, what if Katniss just wasn't on that floor? What if President Snow separated her? What if he anticipated the attack and purposefully hid her from us?" Johanna paused to swallow that information. The theory had been posed in one of the meetings after the rescue that Johanna had blanked through. From what she could remember, it was so unlikely that Coin refused to spare any soldiers or crafts to verify.

"President Coin doesn't think the possibility is likely. And she won't spare any more people to check." Johanna sighed and pushed her hair out of her face. "Even if she was alive, I don't think anyone could convince Coin to send a hovercraft to retrieve her."

Prim's eyes of hope didn't relent. "You could."

Johanna chuckled. "I don't think so, kid."

Prim nodded, unperturbed by Johanna's pessimism. "I don't think you understand your importance around here. Calling for immunity for the victors? Getting her to rescue everyone else?"

"Don't forget Buttercup," Johanna reminded.

Prim smiled back. "Of course not. But you are very important to them. If you want something, they will find a way to get it to you." The young girl shrugged and began walking back toward the door. "I'm just saying. If we were to find out she were alive..."

"I would find her," Johanna whispered. Her brown eyes met Prim's guileless blues. "I'm always finding her."

Prim nodded, swiping down her hospital dress. "So, then, what will you do?"

Johanna smiled. Forceful little Everdeen. She was right on the hovercraft that she couldn't deny the Everdeen women a damn thing. "If Katniss is alive, I promise I will bring her home. That enough for you?"

"For now," Prim teased with a grin. She skittered forward and enveloped Johanna in a hug, pressing her stomach against Johanna's face. "Thank you, Jo."

Despite her talk with Primrose, Johanna's attitude remained unchanged. Katniss was dead, and Johanna was going to kill Snow. That's all she needed to know. Once Snow was dead, well, then she could properly deal with her grief, letting the darkness consume her like Finnick had warned against. She hadn't figured out how she would do it - hanging, alcohol, or a gun in her mouth - but she knew she would do it alone. John would be safe - either in 13 with his new friends, or possibly in 2 if they ever took it over. Gale would probably also integrate into the new military system, whatever that was. President Coin already took a liking to him. Yes, it would all be very clean and quick once she was dead.

The secret of her own planned demise was something she cherished in a time when her feelings and actions seemed to be everyone's business. Johanna carried it with her at all times.

Clad in her normal attire, she met with Finnick and Boggs and descended into the weapons development area of 13. Beetee was sitting in his wheelchair in front of a long table, looking down at a few weapons that were arranged in neat piles. Guns, bows, arrows, and even a trident were displayed upon the metal table, sparkling under the fluorescent lights. The older man looked up at the three of them and smiled as they admired the spread. "Ever seen anything like this?"

Boggs pursed his lips. "Don't expect us to be too impressed. We just saw Finnick Odair in her underwear." Beetee looked to Finnick, who shrugged her shoulders and lifted the trident. "What have you got going on?"

"Specialized weaponry," Beetee replied with a grin. Boggs looked unimpressed. "Specifically for Johanna and Finnick. What Finnick has there - take the cuff, Finnick, and put it on your wrist." The girl complied with his instructions. "Now go ahead and toss the trident at the target." Down a long corridor was a person-shaped mannequin dressed in Peacekeeper armor. Finnick leaned back and tossed the trident, striking the Peacekeeper square in the chest, just underneath the breastplate. A spurt of red paint - an indicator that you had punctured flesh and possibly mortally wounded the dummy - splashed out. "Now hit the button on your cuff. With your hand or against your hip." Finnick did so, and the trident snapped back into her grip.

"Whoa. You have been busy. Here I thought you were down here just playing on your new wheels," Finnick remarked, a smirk coming to her lips. She continued to practice with the trident, leaping and rolling around the room to test the ability for the trident to find its way back to her. The dummy she was using was drenched in red.

Beetee fixed his eyes on Johanna. "They tell me your preference is axes. That right?" Johanna nodded. "Good. Now tell me, what's the biggest problem with using axes for hunting?"

Johanna paused to think. "Well if I have to toss it, I lose it in the enemy or lodge it in the ground or in a tree. The weight, too, sometimes makes it difficult to be accurate."

"Precisely. The hatchet works well in short range combat, but is pretty useless in long range. Of course, if I made them return to you like Finnick's, if you weren't paying attention they would chop your hands off." He lifted two small black hatchets and handed them to Johanna. Each had a matching cuff and she secured them to each of her wrists. The hatchets felt like nothing in her hands, like they were made of air.

"What are these, made of paper?"

Beetee chuckled. "No. A compound called graphene. Made of pure carbon so it's almost as light as paper. But, under the right conditions, it's the most durable substance known to man. I had the smiths here craft them into these hatchets for you. They're weighted in the handles to be easier to throw. Go ahead, try it out."

On a separate set of mannequins, Johanna readied herself. She had been shooting guns for two weeks, and had only touched her axe during the hunting with John. She hurled the hatchet at the mannequin, swiping its head clear off and lodging the hatchet in the wall. "Wow."

"Now press the button on your cuff." Johanna smacked the cuff against her hip and the hatchet's blade retracted into the handle and zoomed back toward her, now just a harmless cylinder. She caught it and gripped it tightly in her palm. The blade swung back open, gleaming and ready to be used again. "Think you can make use of those?"

Johanna twirled both hatchets in her hands simultaneously and chucked one at a Peacekeeper, lopping his arm off, then she spun around and tossed the other, cutting another head off. She banged the cuffs against her hips and both hatchets returned to her. Finnick watched on with an impressed raised eyebrow. "Yeah," Johanna replied with a small smile. "I think I can make use of these."

Beetee grinned. "I thought so. I made you a long axe, too. As for the bow, I - I have put together two. The first one here," he picked up a heavily militarized compound bow, "is for Gale, once he's up to it. Extremely accurate." The second bow was less militaristic, and more like a very intricate version of a regular bow. A curlicue 'S' shape made of a heavy black material instead of wood. "This one..."

"You made for Katniss," Johanna supplied in a low tone. Finnick ceased tossing her trident and walked over to the table, examining the bows.

"She's phenomenal with a bow," Finnick said quietly. "Never seen anybody with that sort of natural skill. Even better than me with my trident, and I don't give out self-deprecating compliments easily. She is something else."

"Was." All three of them looked at Johanna, but her eyes remained fixed on the bow.

Beetee placed his hand on the bow and gazed up at Johanna through his thick glasses. "Katniss is a fighter, Johanna. I didn't know her for long, but what I know of her, she's a survivor. Quick and smart." He lowered his voice. "I want you to know that I'm doing everything I can to try and reap more Capitol intelligence to see if we can't find out what happened to her."

Boggs nodded his head. "That's true." Johanna raised a skeptical eyebrow. "President Coin isn't wasting any time on it, but Plutarch Heavensbee seems to think she's very important."

Johanna's heart pounded in her ears. Bows. Arrows. Katniss. The words swirled in her brain, making the small spot on her forehead where her headaches were concentrated hammer with pain. Her palms began to sweat and she put the hatchets down, staring at the large bow. She could do this. She had to move on. Get better, get to the Capitol, kill Snow.

My name is Johanna Mason. I am eighteen years old. My home is District 12. My girlfriend is dead. I will kill President Snow.

Johanna picked up the bow, feeling it vibrate in her hands like it was alive. "It learns from the archer," Beetee explained. "And these arrows, they're not traditional arrows. Well, not all of them." He picked up one and rolled it between his soft fingers. "This is a regular arrow. Pierces through armor, though." He picked up the next one with a bit more care. "These are incendiary arrows. They'll set fire to whatever you hit." Gingerly he picked up the next set. "And these are explosive arrows. They'll blow up anything you hit on contact."

"I don't think it's wise to test that down here," Boggs intervened. "Soldier Mason's not exactly a sharpshooter with a bow and arrow."

Johanna glared at him and picked up the bow, loading one of the incendiary arrows on the notch. She aimed her sights down toward another dummy and let the arrow fly, striking it in the heart and lighting it on fire. Johanna put the bow back down on the table and looked smugly toward Boggs.

Finnick approached them, her trident in one hand, and she swung her other arm over Johanna's shoulder. "This is the girl on fire, Soldier." She poked Boggs in the leg with the tip of her trident. He frowned in displeasure. "Don't forget it."

Johanna used her downtime during Reflection to go to the hospital ward to visit Gale. Upon opening the door to his room she found Cashmere sitting on the edge of Gale's bed, her knee bent and tucked under her other leg. "About time to stop fucking around in here, Hawthorne," Cashmere ribbed, patting Gale on the leg. "You can only milk this 'Capitol Victim' thing for so long."

Gale scowled and kicked her a little underneath the blanket. "Like I want to be in here."

"I don't know. I think you like it when the nurses come around to give you a sponge bath. That one there's got her eye on you." Johanna looked to where Cashmere was pointing and chuckled at the much older woman with frayed gray hair giving Gale the eye from across the room. Cashmere snickered and leaned back on her palm, smiling at the prostrate victor. Johanna cleared her throat as she neared the bed, and Cashmere whipped her head to the right. "Mason. How's the symbol of the rebellion doing?"

"Ask him yourself," Johanna replied, nodding toward Gale.

"Who? This guy?" Cashmere rolled her eyes and hopped off his bed. "If this lazy dog is the symbol of the rebellion, we're all screwed, kid." She patted Johanna on the shoulder. "Luckily, his days of laying in here are over tomorrow. The doctors have told him he can get into a compartment with his family and as soon as that arm heals up, he can begin training." Johanna quirked her eyebrow and barely attempted to hide a smile. Cashmere winked at Gale as she left, closing the door behind her.

"Don't you start," Gale warned in his gravelly voice. His chestnut hair was rumpled, but his face looked remarkably better; his olive complexion was slowly returning to him. There was a bandage wrapped around his left bicep, otherwise he appeared much healthier than when he had arrived.

"Start about what?" Johanna asked innocently. "Your new girlfriend?" She pursed her lips and cocked her head to the side mockingly.

"She's not my girlfriend," Gale mumbled, glaring at her crossly. Johanna stretched herself lengthwise against Gale, curling herself into his body. The comfort of another person felt so alien to Johanna, but she found herself craving it immediately upon feeling the warmth. She pulled the blanket back and got underneath it, anxious to feel skin against her own. Gale was warm and sturdy against her and Johanna shivered as he cradled her in his arms. "I heard you agreed to be the Mockingjay."

Johanna nodded, resting her head in the crook of Gale's shoulder. "I did. But to be honest, I suck at it."

"I know you do. They've been showing me what you've been up to." Johanna glared at him, but Gale continued. "You didn't suck at it in the arena," he reminded. "Or on the Tour."

"Yeah, well, I had something to fight for then. What do I have now?"

Gale stayed silent for a few long moments, and Johanna studied his face. The beginning of stubble was emerging on his cheeks and chin; no doubt they would shave him before he was in the military program. It was eerily like the Capitol in that way. The lines on his face, that used to be caked with soot after he worked, were clean but still present on his forehead. He smelled clean, too. Almost antiseptic, which Johanna didn't like. She missed the scent of fire and ash he used to have on him.

"Maybe that's what you need. This place isn't exactly a hotbed of rebel activity, ironically enough. You need to be where the real action is." Gale turned his head to look at Johanna, who gazed up at him with tired brown eyes. "Not the planning and the propos. Where the people are."

"They won't let me go to the Capitol," she explained with a petulant pout. Gale chuckled and lifted the hand he had wrapped around her to stroke her hair. "Too dangerous," she mocked, attempting to mimic President Coin's chilly and toneless voice.

"Well, they're right. Trust me, I was there." Johanna rolled her eyes at him and then closed them, heaving a little sigh. "But there are other places you could go. Have you asked them? From what Cashmere tells me, District Eight is liberated. There's a big hospital there now. I'm sure the people would love to see the Mockingjay in person. Might help lift their spirits." Johanna hummed against his neck. "What's that expression? Where words fail, action speaks."

Johanna crinkled her nose and another shiver went through her. This time at a distant memory that smelled of white roses and blood. "That's what Snow said to me. Before the Quell, before the Tour. He warned me that if we didn't stop the rebellion, all the districts would turn on each other. That the system would collapse."

"Of course it would collapse. It needs to collapse," he insisted, the old sound of rebellion in his voice. "This is not just a rebellion. It's not just a revolution. The wheel of power that keeps some people always at the bottom needs to be crushed. It's a tall order." Gale hefted a sigh and shifted his weight to accommodate Johanna more comfortably. "That's why they need you. To give them the strength they need to fight this battle."

I'll be your strength, always. Johanna screwed her eyes shut to try and block out Katniss's voice. She needed Katniss's strength now more than ever, but she was gone. Maybe Gale was right; if she got out of 13, really saw the districts, perhaps she could draw some strength from them. Internally she was a wasteland, so drudging it up from her own heart wasn't an option.

The districts needed the Mockingjay. Perhaps the Mockingjay needed the districts.

"Absolutely not."

Johanna sat across from President Coin at the table in the Command Room, staring into her lifeless gray eyes. Not like the Seam eyes, ringed with worry and soul. They seemed weightless, as if they'd float out of her head at any moment if she wasn't using them to stare so hard into her computer. "Why not?"

President Coin barely looked up from her screen. "District Eight has just been under heavy bombardment. They've razed one building."

"Then it's safe," Haymitch pitched in from Johanna's left. "If they've already raided, they won't go back."

Coin raised her eyebrow, tearing her eyes from the computer to look at the victors. "You don't think that the Capitol would anticipate us sending in our 'symbol' to show hope after such a tragedy?"

Haymitch shrugged his shoulders. "What makes Eight different than Seven? They just did a big attack on them, too. And Twelve? Nobody came after us there. There's no precedent of the Capitol circling back to check for the Mockingjay. And she's been as useful as an empty wine glass the whole time we've been down here. It would do her some good to get out of here. No disrespect intended."

Coin rubbed her creaseless forehead. "And what do you expect her to do? Her propos have been uninspiring, at best." Johanna shrunk in her seat. "Why would I waste precious resources to send her to a burning district when she can barely make it work here, where she's safe?"

"Because without fear, there can be no courage," Cinna interrupted. Johanna hadn't even seen or heard him enter the room - strange for a victor - but she was glad to see him. He looked almost comical in his District 13 outfit that he somehow still managed to make look striking. It was tailored to his slim figure, and he'd even turned one of the pieces of fabric into a fashionable cuff. There was no gold eyeliner on his lids, but his amber eyes still sparkled. "The only way to gauge the strength of something is to test it."

Coin was unruffled by Cinna's poetic words. "And if she dies?"

"Make sure you get it on video," Johanna snarked back.

Haymitch gave her a sour look and Johanna rolled her eyes in return. "I'm with Cinna. All of Johanna's inspiring moments in the Games - her alliance with Rue, her relationship with Gale, her defiance of the Capitol, Katniss - it all came from her. It needs to come from her, not from some script."

"Fine," Coin replied curtly. "She can go, will a full squad of bodyguards. Get the camera crew on the ground. Put Finnick Odair on the ground with her. I want Haymitch airborne, giving her instructions." Her eyes went up and down Johanna's body. "And let's get her into that thing."

"What thing?" Johanna inquired, looking at Haymitch. The blond nodded toward Cinna, who crooked his finger at Johanna. "Oh. A Cinna thing." The snarky victor grinned. "That's more like it. About time I got something to wear here that was a little more flattering to my figure."

Cinna smiled and took Johanna gently by the bend of her elbow toward the exit. "Then let's get you dressed."

"Is Coin next?" Johanna asked, not even out of the room before sassing the president. "Leader of the rebellion, you'd think she'd have a better outfit. Even Snow makes the effort to wear a nice suit." Johanna heard Haymitch groan behind her as the doors closed.

"So where have they been hiding you?" Johanna asked as Cinna made her turn around so he could fasten the armor plate on the back of her suit. It was a black tactical jumpsuit, zippered in the front. Over her torso was an armored plate that conformed to her body, with straps that went over her shoulders. Several belt loops were on her hips, two for the hatchets Beetee made, one for the long axe, and one for a pistol.

Cinna chuckled as he adjusted the quiver on her back. Johanna didn't necessarily want or need the bow and arrow, but Cinna thought it was important for her to wear. "Mostly with Beetee and the others they have very specific needs for. There's not much necessity for a fashion designer here. They don't appreciate those things like they do in the Capitol. I've been helping design the suits for the soldiers. Uninspiring work, unfortunately." He sighed. "I prefer to channel my emotions into my work."

"Did designing this get-up do the trick?" Johanna asked as Cinna knelt to the ground to adjust her boots.

He looked up at her from the ground. "Quite so. I've had this drawn for you since the day we met." Johanna raised her eyebrow and Cinna stood to his full height. "I saw in you what they took a bit longer to see around here. What it's taken you months to recognize."

Johanna stretched her hands, three of her fingers covered in material to grip an arrow. Her palm was slightly more rubbery than the rest of her glove, presumably to hold on to a hatchet. "They'll certainly see it now."

The raven-haired man smiled at her and adjusted the shoulder pads of her jumpsuit. "The most important thing about fashion is not what you wear, but how you wear it. The mockingjay symbol only became important when people could see you in it. See how you wore it." He turned Johanna around so she could look at herself in the mirror. The quiver and the armor on the back made her look like she had wings, glorious black wings like the mockingjay she was supposed to emulate. "People are either going to want to kiss you, kill you, or be you."

"More like fight you, fuck you, and finish you." A wolf whistle interrupted their talk and Johanna looked over her shoulder to see Finnick sauntering into the room, clad in her own tactical gear. Cinna must have designed hers, too, because there was a special holster for her trident, as well as some black netting over one of her shoulders. "I volunteer as tribute for all three," she remarked with a wink.

"Volunteering for me hasn't turned out to be such a great idea so far." Cinna squeezed Johanna's hand and she culled some comfort from that gesture. She was glad that Cinna was present. Though rebels surrounded her, seemingly like-minded, Johanna felt extremely alone. Finnick was a great comfort, but she was almost always tied to Annie at all available times. "And we both know you're a whole 'lotta talk, Finnick Odair."

"I can walk the walk, Johanna Mason," Finnick taunted back.

"Oh?" Johanna cocked an eyebrow. "Guess I'll have to ask Annie, then, won't I?" Finnick's bright eyes darkened and Johanna's lips broke into a grin. "I won't, I won't. I'll leave the girl alone."

Finnick scowled at her and held out her hand. "Let's roll, Mockingjay. Coin wants us airborne now. She wants us in Eight and out before nightfall. We land at 11:00 hours, do propos until 14:00. Eat lunch and get the hell outta dodge by 16:00."

Johanna nodded in understanding and stepped off the small platform she had been dressing on. "One moment," Cinna called. He walked around to Johanna's front and pinned something to her strap. Her brown eyes cast downward and she gasped. "It's not the same one," Cinna said, sympathy in his hues. "Katniss presumably still has the original. I had them make one to camouflage with the suit."

The mockingjay pin was a matte black and rested on top of her breast. Johanna traced her fingers over it and sucked in a shuddering breath. Without another word she went to the exit with Finnick on her heels. She needed to get above ground to do this propo. Getting out of 13 would be good for her. It would help her focus. Being in 13 only reminded her of her many failures; perhaps above ground she could start anew.

If District 12 was a ruin, District 8 was a warzone. The streets were mostly uprooted cement slabs and long piles of bodies. What must have been small villages or the town square was nothing but rubble. The makeshift hospital Commander Paylor set up was wall to wall with ailing people; hurt children and the sick elderly. But it was also filled with able-bodied rebels tending to the wounded, not all of whom seemed to come from that district. Commander Paylor, the rebel leading the district, met them as the hovercraft landed.

Johanna, Finnick, Boggs, Cressida and her crew, as well as a few other bodyguards all stepped off the platform and the hovercraft rose back into the air, disappearing into the clouds. Commander Paylor stepped forward. "I know we have to make this quick. I'll bring you through the buildings left standing, including the hospital," the middle-aged leader explained. "It's nice to finally meet you, Johanna."

"Likewise," Johanna replied. "I know it hasn't been easy here. You've done a great job." In spite of the horrendous appearance of the place, to have a district still up and running and taking care of the people was impressive. District 8 used to provide the Capitol with clothing, including those for Peacekeepers, so they were out of luck if they needed better or more uniforms for their force. Fortunately for the rebels, that meant they could dress every person who wanted to join the rebellion. Until the Capitol razed the buildings.

Finnick narrowed her eyes. "You have a hospital? All your wounded in one place?"

"Would you rather I left them to die?" Paylor shot back, cocking an eyebrow.

"That's not what I meant," Finnick responded calmly. "You've been the target of a raid already. If they strike again, what place do you think they'll target first?" Johanna looked at Finnick. That would have been something Gale would have noticed. People who have thought enough about how the Capitol works - in Finnick's case, she was familiar enough having been in the Capitol for years - that she immediately thought of how something good could be destroyed for evil.

Commander Paylor sighed. "There's nothing else I can do but take care of them. If I leave them to suffer, I'm no better than Snow. That's what makes us different; I won't give up on my own." Finnick nodded her head. "Let's go. This way."

The middle-aged black woman led them down some dust-covered streets to a large building with tiny windows near the top. Johanna stepped through the hospital with Finnick at her back, and Cressida and her camera team behind her. As she ventured further into the hospital, a hush began to fall among the bedridden. Her name popped up from all corners of the room. Happy voices, excited to see her. Some were hushed, as if they couldn't believe she was there. Others were loud proclamations of her existence. It was almost like when she volunteered for Prim and all those three-fingered salutes went up back in District 12. Johanna felt tingles in her arms and legs, goosebumps prickling her skin. One little girl rushed forward and hugged her around the legs. "Where's Gale?" the little girl asked, looking up at her with wide brown eyes.

Johanna froze. "Gale's um, he's back in District 13 being taken care of. He's okay, though. He'll be fighting with the rebels soon enough."

"Where's Katniss?" she asked, and Johanna's fists curled at her sides. She felt Finnick place a hand on her back, though it was impeded by the armor, the touch was sympathetic. "We were told she's a traitor and she's in the Capitol working for Snow."

Johanna's eyes flared in anger. "She was captured," Johanna hissed. The girl backpedaled a foot or two and Johanna softened her voice. "Katniss was captured by the Capitol. She's still there, we think, being held prisoner against her will."

"Then you have to go get her. You have to fight with us, Johanna," a boy said from the side. He stepped forward, all of maybe fifteen years old, emaciated in appearance. Still, he stood proudly. "Will you fight with us?" he implored.

Johanna gazed out at their faces. They had been through so much, suffered so much at the hands of the Capitol, yet they were putting their lives on the line for her. For the rebellion. Just on pure hope. Cinna mentioned that courage sprang from fear, but these people didn't fear the Capitol. Their courage came from hope that there can and must be a better tomorrow. "Yes. I am. I will."

Many of them came forward, almost clawing at her, testing to see if she was real. Their hands pressed against her uniform from all sides. "We heard you were alive, but we couldn't be sure." Clearly none of her terrible propos had reached District 8. "I can't believe you're real." "So glad you're here." Johanna nodded and smiled at the people coming toward her. After so many weeks of near isolation, the amount of people was becoming overwhelming, but she wanted them to know she appreciated their support.

They went into another building a few blocks away, where some weapons had been stockpiled on top of mountains of fabric. The ground rumbled beneath their feet and Johanna's stomach turned sick. She knew that rumbling. It was the same rumbling she'd felt in the forest with Katniss when the Capitol bombed the Hob. The windows of the building burst, showering glass on to the floor. Screams rang out all around them and Johanna immediately gripped her hatchet. "We've got to get out of here," Finnick ordered, pushing Johanna toward the exit.

"This way," Commander Paylor instructed, leading the group into another building. Johanna felt the building quake on all sides and the wall near them burst open, deafening her ears and covering them in dust. Johanna leapt forward and grabbed Cressida, pulling the blonde to the ground and covering her with her body as another bomb ripped through the building and lobbed the crumbling edifice at them. She looked behind her to see Finnick huddling with Castor and Pollux. Finnick looked at Cressida beneath Johanna and quickly smirked, then her lips fell in a line as another bomb exploded.

Johanna scrambled to her feet and went through the hole in the building into the open air. Haymitch's warning voice crackled into her earpiece and she took it out and tossed it away. She ignored the protests of her companions and continued to run through the ruined streets, dodging fireballs as they slammed down into the ground and blew wreckage around her. Finally she reached the disintegrating roof of a building, watching the Capitol hovercrafts race back around with deadly intent. She grabbed the bow and loaded one of the explosive arrows, stretching the string taut and squinting one eye shut. Every lesson Gale and Katniss had given her needed to work in this instant. She couldn't take down hovercrafts with a hatchet.

As they zoomed back in for another bombing raid, Johanna let the arrow fly. By some stroke of great luck, it struck the hovercraft in the vulnerable glass area of the cockpit, blowing it up on contact. It smashed into its sister plane and they both swirled and tumbled in the distance, crashing into a faraway building ahead of her. The damage had been done. From her vantage point, Johanna turned to see the smoldering remains of the hospital. Bile rose and fell in her throat as wind whipped around her body.

"Johanna." Cressida's cool, even voice broke through Johanna's shock and she looked down at the director. She was flanked by her cameramen, who looked vastly uneasier than she did. "President Snow aired the bombing live. He said that this was a message to the rebels. Do you have a message to give?"

"Yes," Johanna hissed through gritted teeth. Finnick, who had climbed up to support her, jumped back down a level to be out of the shot. "Yes I do." Johanna straightened her back, gripping the bow in her left hand tightly. "I want to tell the rebels that I am alive. That Gale is alive. Tell them I'm here in District Eight, where the Capitol has just bombed a hospital filled with children, and unarmed men and women. And there will be no survivors." Johanna swallowed some saliva to moisten her throat. "This is what the Capitol does. This is why Gale told us to burn the Capitol down because they will not stop until they've buried us all!" Fury rose inside her like a phoenix, born of flame, spreading its wings for the first time. Her back was to the smoldering Capitol hovercrafts that were peeking out of the roof of the building they had hit. She stepped a few feet to her left and pointed back. "Do you see that? Fire is catching!" Johanna stepped forward, intent on getting close to the camera. "If you're watching, President Snow, and I think you are, then know this: If we burn, you burn with us!"

After a few panting breaths Johanna looked to Cressida, who gave her a small smile and a nod of approval. "Cut."

Johanna deflated, falling to her knees amidst the dust and rubble. The hospital across from them finally gave way; folding in on itself and becoming a tomb for the people Johanna had just met, just touched. Finnick climbed back up to her side and Johanna saw the guards and Boggs emerge from a nearby exhaust vent. Boggs had a massive welt on his cheek and his nose was bleeding. "What happened?" Johanna asked, nodding behind Finnick to Boggs.

Finnick tensed her neck in embarrassment. "I saw you running and I knew what you were doing. They were trying to stop you." Finnick grinned sheepishly. "I'm probably going to be in trouble later."

"You're in trouble now, Soldier Odair," Boggs ordered, but his tone was less stern than his face. "We need to get to the landing strip, now. No arguments. And don't make me take your weapon from you, Odair." Finnick nodded deferentially and helped Johanna down from the building.

"Still in trouble, even after I showed him my goodies," Finnick mumbled to Johanna, who chuckled and shook her head. The squad led them to the landing strip where a hovercraft awaited them. It wasn't the same one that they took in because Haymitch was missing and it was slightly smaller. It still zoomed into the clouds with great ease and took off toward 13.

They grounded in a clearing in what Johanna thought was an outskirt of 12. The trees looked familiar as they scoped out an area in which to have a short lunch while the crew worked on a small issue with the craft. Settling near a small river, they ate their sandwiches in relative silence, except for the murmuring between the cameramen and Cressida.

Pollux tapped on Johanna's shoulder and pointed to the trees, then to Johanna herself. Johanna blinked in confusion. "What? The trees?"

Finnick nudged Johanna from her other side. "Pollux is an Avox, Jo. Get with the program." She leaned over to watch Pollux's hand signals. "He's talking about the birds."

Johanna peered into the trees. Spread out on some of the branches were mockingjays, chirping amongst themselves but mostly staying pretty quiet within the canopies of the trees. Inside her chest her heart squeezed painfully, remembering Katniss's wonderful, low voice singing to the mockingjays. Pollux made another gesture that Johanna understood. She was the Mockingjay and he wanted her to sing.

"I don't sing," Johanna lamented, tossing a rock into the water to watch it skip across the placid surface. "That was Katniss's job."

Finnick placed her hand on Johanna's shoulder. "So do it for her. She would love to hear you sing."

Johanna mused on that a moment. Katniss did enjoy her singing the night before the Quell. But what song? Surely none of the jaunty tunes they'd sing around a campfire would be appropriate. Only one song came to mind. The Hanging Tree. It was more appropriate now than ever; Johanna had heard it sung tons of times as a child, but never truly understood it. Now, though, she could fully comprehend the thought of selfishly encouraging your lover to die with you.

Johanna began singing it, slowly and with a hoarse voice, until she got through all four stanzas. Her eyes closed and she tried to imagine herself in the bedroom with Katniss, singing her the same song until the girl fell asleep in her arms. The forest fell hush, only the slight ruffle of wings and scrape of leaves against tree trunks punctuating the silence. Then, a chorus. The mockingjays sang the music back in full splendor, coating the forest in their sound. Their group drank it in as Cressida and Castor rolled their cameras, smiles on their faces. "Cut," Cressida said quietly, and Castor put down his camera. "That was amazing. Great idea, Poll."

Pollux smiled and returned to his sandwich, which Johanna only then noticed he had to eat in a peculiar manner. No wonder he was eager to fight the Capitol. And Castor, his brother, would surely want to make them pay for his brother's injury. She didn't know about Messalla or Cressida or the insect cameramen, but they all defected to the rebel side in the last year or so, since her Games. Johanna realized, surrounded by these people, that she probably would've picked them as allies in the arena. Certainly Finnick, but also Castor and Cressida. Perhaps even Pollux. It was the highest compliment she could give them, and they deserved it. They had braved the bombing onslaught just to capture her on camera. For the slight chance that they could use something to rally the districts. And of course, they had all escaped the Capitol and somehow managed to safely make it to District 13 without dying. Truly courageous.

Bravery does come from fear, Johanna noted, and also hope. But perhaps some are just born with more of it than others. It's those who are lightning rods of bravery who need to share it with others, and that's what they did. Cressida with her direction, the men with their cameras, the rebels with their weapons, and Johanna herself. She was a lightning rod of bravery too, and it was her job to spread that to the rest of Panem.

Back in Command, no one ratted out Johanna or Finnick for their direct insubordination. The footage they caught of the bombing, the hospital, and Johanna's speech was not only well received by Plutarch and the Capitol defectors, but also by President Coin and her crew as well. They aired a partial edit of her trip - her in the hospital with the wounded, and her "fire is catching" comment - to nearly all of Panem, excluding the Capitol. President Snow must have seen it, though, Johanna thought smugly to herself. A "We Remember" propo was suggested by one of the former Capitol people as a way of remembering fallen tributes and victors. Finnick offered hers and Cashmere's services in eulogizing those that they knew. Cressida took both blonde former victors into another room to begin planning.

Gale smiled at Johanna as she sat in the seat next to him. He was now clad in the regular 13 uniform instead of his hospital gown, much more fitting of the fiery rebel. "Glad to get you back."

"You too. This is much more your look than that terrible cotton gown," Johanna teased with a grin. "And I'm sure your girlfriend likes it, too."

Gale ignored her comment with a stern look. "Haymitch is not pleased about the earpiece thing," he whispered to her as some of the others filed out of the room. Johanna looked across the table at Haymitch, who was scowling but not looking directly at her. "I wouldn't pull that stunt again. I mean, do what you must, but keep him in on it. He stuck his neck out for you."

Johanna shrugged. "I couldn't let them just take the whole district down."

"It was brave," Gale agreed with a nod. "I would've done the same thing. Just next time, keep the damn earpiece in, okay? Haymitch is awful enough to be around, he's even worse when he's in a shitty mood."

"Only like the brooding thing on you, hm?" Gale rolled his eyes at her and brought his steely gray gaze to the front of the room as President Coin cleared her throat to call their attention.

With only the former victors in the room, President Coin stood at the head of the table. "In spite of the raid, I'd say this was a very successful trip, Johanna," President Coin said with a small smile. "I'm glad to see you finally coming into your role. It's imperative, as we get closer to the Capitol that you remain a symbol of hope for everyone. If you can be a true soldier, as well as a symbol, then we can consider ourselves truly lucky." She cleared her throat. Johanna assumed the President probably had a sour taste in her mouth after offering so much praise. "We have made strides in the last 24 hours on perhaps intercepting a Capitol broadcast. Thus far, our messages have only reached the liberated districts that haven't been victim of enough damage to prevent the relaying, as well as some some spotty reception in District Two. Which, as you know, is still under Capitol control."

"That's why they didn't know I was alive in Eight," Johanna interrupted. "Because the Capitol burned their district down."

"Exactly right," President Coin affirmed. "It's extremely difficult to hack into the President's broadcasts, but he has recently begun using the emergency channel as a way to strong-arm his words into the districts under rebel control. Emergency broadcasts are a force-feed to every single screen in all of Panem. Which makes them the holy grail for us. Beetee has been working tirelessly on tapping into that feed and he thinks that he's decoded the structure enough to interrupt the broadcast. We will not only reach the districts under our control, we will reach all of Panem. Because of what happened in Eight, we now have something very good to send to all of the citizens of Panem. Including our supporters in the Capitol."

Beetee nodded his head. "Once President Snow begins his broadcast, I will start working at hacking into it. He's supposed to make an appearance -"

"Now," Johanna interrupted, pointing to the screen. Beetee scrambled to a dashboard with a lot of little buttons and switches on it and began manipulating them. President Snow came on screen, dressed in a sharp white suit with a white rose in his lapel. He sat on a white throne in an all-white room, flanked by equally as white Peacekeepers. Johanna tasted blood in her mouth.

"Good evening, Panem. I come to you from the Capitol, where I can assure you, no fire has spread here. We are, as we ever have been, the heart of Panem. You, the districts, have been our veins, pumping blood into the Capitol. We in turn, feed you and clothe you and protect you. The rebels, led by Johanna Mason, are trying to sever that connection. Without the districts, the Capitol will fall. And without the Capitol, the districts will fall. Panem will, if left unchecked, dissolve into chaos." President Snow pursed his lips, then spread them into a smile. "I have with me tonight a very special guest. She comes from the same incendiary district as the other rebels, Gale Hawthorne and Johanna Mason. But she has a very different message to send."

The camera pulled back slowly and Johanna rose to her feet. "No," she whispered in a voice akin to a whimper. "No, it can't be." Gale went to take her hand and she shook him off. She strode toward the screen when suddenly Katniss emerged. She was dressed in a white blouse and a long white skirt. Her brown hair was tied in a braid similar to the one she usually wore, and falling over her left shoulder. But her face. Her cheeks were gaunt like a starving orphan in 12, her eyes sunken in and unfocused. "What did they do to you?" Johanna asked in a choked whisper. She placed her hand on the screen, right on Katniss's cheek. Her body craved the warmth that touching Katniss's cheek would have brought. She craved the comfort.

"Rebels," Katniss said, her voice devoid of all emotion. It sounded nothing like the warm, dulcet tones Johanna remembered. "I'm calling for a cease-fire. I know what you're thinking, but I have suffered, too. My family, my district, all nothing now because of this rebellion. You need to understand that this has happened once before. We nearly battled ourselves into extinction last time. Now we have even less people to fight these pointless battles."

Johanna heard the whispers of the people in the room, all disapproving of Katniss's speech. Johanna clenched her fists at her side. Suddenly, the screen went gray and white. Then, Johanna appeared.

IF WE BURN, YOU BURN WITH US.

Static.

I AM ALIVE.

A few shots of the bombing of Eight, then it abruptly went back to Katniss.

"Johanna," Katniss whispered, her eyes looking straight into the camera. "She's alive." The reception cut again and once more Johanna's image was on the screen. With another jump cut, it was back to Katniss. She was gasping for air. "Johanna, please. How do you think this will end? Are you safe? Do you trust everyone around you?" The Peacekeepers stormed forward and grabbed her by both her arms. "And you, in Thirteen!" She gasped again, her eyes wild. "Dead by morning!"

Dead air.

There was dissension among some of President Coin's crew, accusations of Katniss being a traitor. Johanna was too stunned to speak, to move, to think. She heard Haymitch's voice roaring above the rest of them, explaining that Katniss was issuing a warning. That they needed to move and quickly, because Katniss had just given them some precious time.

Johanna understood none of it. Her mind melted into a stew of confusing thoughts, and only one thing was able to float to the top of her brain.

"She's alive."

Author's Note: Thanks to Johannas-Motivational-Insults for her beta read and all of her great advice in making this chapter.

I may be taking a breather for a bit because I won't be around, but I will try to update this story or my OITNB Joniss fic at some point in the coming weeks. No promises, kiddies.

Thank you to everyone who is showing love for this story in whatever way they can - here on fanfiction and over on AO3. It's immensely appreciated and is always a great motivator for me to stop being a bum and actually write.