It seemed like most of the momentous events in her life had taken place in train stations. She had left home on a train and been brought back on a train. She had watched children go to their deaths year after year; their last sight of anything familiar was the depot of their district fading in the distance. For the first time, Johanna Mason was actually happy to see a departing conveyance. A waving hand and shock of blonde hair caught her notice. Johanna smiled and returned the gesture, then stuck her clenched fists into her pockets as she watched the train pull away from the platform.
"Good bye, Peeta Mellark," she commented quietly. "Have a good trip and welcome home."
"So that's it then," another voice broke the silence. "A few months closeted up with a fancy doctor and it's decided that he's safe to go off unsupervised and unguarded."
Johanna smirked and turned quickly to meet the turbulent gray eyes of Gale Hawthorne. "Well, well, well. Hello there, gorgeous. Of all the people I expected to see old Lover Boy on his way, you would have been the last on the list. Especially considering where he's going." She smirked at his fierce expression. "I'm sure that he'll keep those home fires burning. There's not much else to do in the backend of nowhere that you call home."
Gale's jaw visibly tightened and his nostrils flared. Other than those few outward signs, he managed to keep a tight rein on his emotions. His eyes darted from hers to the now empty tracks. "I don't understand why he's being allowed to go there alone. He should be where he can be monitored and treated. Here would be best or District Four where the new hospital is being built. It doesn't make sense for him to be turned loose without proper precautions being taken."
Johanna huffed out a laugh. "You mean he should be allowed to go anywhere but home. He shouldn't be allowed to go back to the place where his family lived and died. Here, there, or stuck in a hole in District Thirteen and never allowed to see the sun again. Anywhere but close to your precious Katniss. Admit it, Gale. You don't want him near her." Her smile was predatory as she eyed him, her mocking tone making the words that much more cutting. "You're afraid that he'll succeed where you failed miserably, aren't you? You're pathetic."
Gale's eyes blazed and his temper ignited. "He is dangerous. He's tried to kill her more than once. She has no protection out there. He could kill her and we wouldn't know before it's too late."
Her disparaging laughter cut him off. Johanna shook her head and smirked as he sullenly withheld his arguments. "She has no protection out there," she echoed scornfully. "He tried to kill her. Honestly, you're going to have to do better than that. You've had every opportunity to go. You chose not to. Don't whine now about her safety and his madness. You had your chance, gorgeous, and you blew it yet again."
Gale's eyes went wide in disbelief at her callous accusations. "I blew my chance. When in hell did I ever have a chance? She thinks that I killed her sister. That bomb almost killed her. She broke down completely. What makes you think she could even stand the sight of me, much less love me? You're crazy!"
She nodded amicably. "I'm a raving lunatic. I hate to burst your bubble but so is your precious Katniss. This is what being a Victor is all about, pretty boy. I hope you didn't fall for that whole bathed in riches and revered line. We were nothing but playthings for Snow to amuse himself with in between Games broadcasts." She shrugged blithely. "I don't know what she might or might not have done. You never gave her the chance to know either. You ran off and hid in Two while she went through hell here. You didn't visit her in the hospital. You let her face both Snow and Coin alone." She smiled maliciously. "With friends like you, she didn't need any enemies. She's lucky to have someone like Peeta."
"That's what you call lucky?" He spat contemptuously. "You're right about one thing. You are crazy. She'd be better off dead than trapped in Twelve with Peeta Mellark."
His back was pinned against the wall before he had even registered her movement. Her arm was like iron as she pressed it firmly against his windpipe. Her brown eyes were feral as they raked over his face. Her low voiced growl raised the hair on the back of his neck. "Don't ever talk about him like that in front of me. You hear me, gorgeous? I'll kill you where you stand and won't even blink." Her nose almost touched his as she leaned forward, putting more force into the arm she had braced against his neck. "I've known two good men in my life. Only two. I won't stand by idly and let anyone say a bad thing about either of them. Do you understand me? You have no idea what he went through to get back to her! You don't know." She eased backward and dropped her arm. Gale pushed away from the wall, his breath coming in panting gasps as he fought to breathe normally. Johanna met his gaze stonily, practically daring him to contradict her. He wisely chose to remain silent.
His hand rubbed absently at his neck, attempting to relieve the soreness. He watched her cautiously. Despite their difference in size, she could clearly take him down whenever she wished. He blew out a breath and reached for a semblance of calm. Once he felt in control, he quietly stated, "I know that Snow didn't go easy on any of you. I was a member of the team that pulled you out. You don't know what she had to deal with either. She fell apart. She was a wreck. She can't take anymore. She needs to heal. She can't do that with him there as a constant reminder."
Johanna laughed in amusement. She met his eyes and retorted, "I know that you were there. That fact alone should make it obvious why he has to go back to Twelve. She fell apart because he wasn't with her, Gale. She knew what Snow was doing to him and she couldn't take it. They belong together. They are stronger together. Even I can see that. She needs to heal and so does he. They can do that in Twelve away from all of this. They've earned that. He's more than earned it."
Gale's eyes narrowed questioningly. Something in her tone. She knew something that she wasn't sharing. It obviously was enough for her to take on any critic that had the audacity to question Peeta Mellark's motives or living arrangements. Gale let his mind go back to the moment he entered the prison block and saw what remained of the Victor/tributes the Capital had retrieved from the Quarter Quell arena. The images of that instant still haunted him. That knowledge caused him to bite his tongue as he looked into the wide brown eyes of the woman he had carried out of the lockups personally. He couldn't and wouldn't argue this point with her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that he hadn't suffered. I know he did. I've seen it."
Gale's voice faded as Johanna's mind slid into the slippery chasm of the past. Her mind, of necessity, tended to stow the memories of her time in the Capital in an air tight compartment never again to see the light of day. Some things sneaked up on her when she least expected it, and this was one of those times. There were two things that she would never forget as long as she lived. The first was the sound of his screaming. Some nights, the remembered noises woke her up, shaking and trembling as she lay tangled in the sweaty confines of her sheets. The second was the look in those lost, forsaken blue eyes when he realized there was no way out. If eyes were indeed windows to the soul, at that moment Peeta Mellark's died. The flame had gone out. It hurt Johanna to see it. If she could have gotten her hands on an ax, she would have gladly killed him to save him from this act. As it was, all she could do was hope one day he would forgive her. That he would forgive himself.
Shaking herself free of the prison her own thoughts had constructed, Johanna met Gale's eyes and nodded tersely. She turned on her heel and moved quickly toward the ramps that would take her back up to street level. She had only taken a few steps when Gale's voice stopped her cold. "What did Snow do to you? What did Peeta do? Why are you protecting him now? What happened down there?"
She schooled her features, repressing all outward signs that her mind and heart had just locked up simultaneously. That question blazed a trail to places that Johanna had no intentions of visiting or examining. She forced her lips to curl into a wide, taunting smile. "What did Peeta do? He did what we always do, Gale. He survived. That's what Victors are best at. It's our biggest talent. He survived." She turned quickly away and lost herself in the teeming Capital crowd. It wasn't until the lift door that would take her to her quarters closed behind her that Johanna felt the warm wetness that drenched her cheeks.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO XO
Johanna woke up screaming, her hands blindly reaching across the cold sheets for anything to hold on to. Her fingers curled around a pillow and she pulled it against her and buried her face into the soft folds. She cried for what seemed like hours until her muscles ached and her shirt clung damply. Drenched in sweat and the aftereffects of yet another nightmare, she let out a shaky breath and wound her arms around her bent knees. Resting her forehead, she went through the exercises that Dr. Aurelius had recommended until she felt a measure of calm seep up. Breathe slowly and deeply. Flex fingers and toes. Concentrate on the beating of her heart. Let that rhythm push everything else out. Breathe in time with it. Think only about that thump-thud. Let it fill you up. Johanna chanted the steps like a mantra.
It didn't always work but it was the best she had. It was infinitely better than morphling or Haymitch's precious liquor. She breathed and kept time in her head until the gnawing anxiety unknotted her belly. Finally feeling steady, she eased her feet to the floor and padded her way into the kitchen to get a cup of tea. The kettle eventually shrieked its readiness and pulled her from the intense study of a crack in the wall. The comforting warmth of the cup in her hand soothed her further. She absent-mindedly reached into a cabinet and pulled out a snack to go with her drink. She took a quick bite and the taste of a cheese bun exploded on her tongue. That one act sheared the barriers away and she was lost once again.
"I won't do it. I don't care what they do to me. I won't do that." The boy's stubbornness chose the worst possible times to assert itself. He was normally the most cooperative, helpful sort but on those few occasions that he chose to be difficult he could rival the brainless girl in obstinacy. President Snow had just advised them of his latest scheme. Johanna had been unfazed. She was surprised that it had taken the man this long. Peeta, however, was dumbfounded. The idea has apparently never even occurred to him. Johanna had laughed at the girl's purity during training for the Quarter Quell. She felt that same amusement bubble up here and now. He was as clueless as the girl. No wonder the star-crossed fable had so successfully blinded the Capital. The two perpetrators had no skill in artifice. Not really. The boy had made feeble attempts but was not on par with what came as easily as breathing to those of Snow's ilk. Your soul had to be as black as District Twelve's coal to sink to those depths.
Normally, she would find his display funny. However, this was deadly serious and she had to get through to him before he did something that would bring about permanent damage. What they were being forced into wasn't ideal, but the alternative was worse. "If not you, it will be somebody else. It will happen regardless. He'll make us watch. He's already seen that is the easiest way to get to you. I told you not to give him the satisfaction, kid; you didn't listen. Now, he's upped the ante." She paused then continued softly. "I don't like this any more than you do. You can't let them know that they're getting to you. If you give them any opening, they will own you." She swallowed heavily and played her trump card, knowing that it was a wasted gesture but it was all she had left. "Finnick did it for years, kid. You only have to once. Just grin and bear it."
His blue gaze collided with her brown and she was taken aback to see the tears that were flowing silently down his cheeks. "I'd never be able to forgive myself. I couldn't face …" his voice trailed off and his fingers curled into fists. "I don't want… I just…" He turned away and lowered his head. The trembling shoulders and inaudible gasps gave him away. Johanna made a supreme effort to remain standing. She refused to give the bastards the satisfaction. When his head lifted, Johanna recoiled. His eyes were dead. The normally sun-kissed blue had faded to a muddled blank stare. He swiped his face with a rough palm and his jaw set in determined lines. In that one brief instant, Johanna wished with all her heart for a weapon to magically appear. Killing him was preferable to this.
Johanna shook herself free of the memories and looked down at the now mangled cheese bun that she had unconsciously torn to bits. She cursed fluidly at her stupidity and grabbed the waste basket to sweep the remains into the bin. Clutching the cup, she slugged the tepid dregs of the tea, tossed the empty container into the sink and hurried from the room. She desperately wanted a shower but the aversion to water had been literally scourged into her skin and bones. Dr. Aurelius had encouraged her to take it slowly. She had been sticking mainly to sponge baths, gradually submerging one limb at a time. She held it there until the panic attacks sent her scrambling for the nearest morphling bottle or closet. Tonight, she dived into the cubicle and punched the buttons furiously in an attempt to occupy her mind. Cut off the pain of one traumatic event by subjecting herself to another. Dr. A wouldn't be happy with her reasoning but Johanna didn't need a second opinion this time.
The water stung her face and back as fine needles lanced her skin. Her mind spun furiously, the ghostly echoes of scorched flesh and singed hair competing with a never ending river flowing in a continuous stream. She began to choke, fighting for air needlessly. She backed from underneath the biting spray and caught her breath. Without the distraction, another memory rose unbidden. This one folded her over and she sank to her knees, arms clutching her head.
Pull your mind away, she whispered. Go somewhere else. Don't think about it. Don't acknowledge it. You're not here. This isn't real. Blue eyes wide and panicked before they flicked closed. Sweat dampened blond curls. Inaudible whispers. Incoherent prayers. Gasped pleas. Finally, warm salty rain splashing on her face as it ran unheeded from those glazed and vacant eyes.
Johanna callously stabbed her palms with her nails to force those thoughts back into their box. She heard muffled sobs and knew that they were coming from her but she refused to give them notice. Her mind faded away, across the miles to District Seven. The whisper that the wind made as it danced through the pines. The warmth of the sun on her back and shoulders as she took in the variegated shades of green. The hidden glades and secluded meadows that nestled untouched and unbothered in the low valleys. Home. Flashes and traces of events too soaked in heartache attempted to force themselves to the fore…but she held on with grim vigor. She refused to back down. She would not let that bastard win. The pounding shower peppered her exposed flesh and Johanna welcomed it. For the first time, she willingly turned her face into it and let it wash over her. Despite the panic that threatened to overtake her, she smiled. It was a small victory. Johanna didn't let that deter her. A win was still a win no matter how inconsequential.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO XO
When the letter came, she sat at the table and stared at it for what seemed like an eternity. Her name was written in a precise, even scrawl that had practically shouted its origins. It had been a year since she had sent him off with a smile and wave at the train station. In that time, the world had changed and she had gone along with it. Eschewing the Capital, she had settled in District Two. Oddly enough, Gale Hawthorne was a frequent visitor. They still held one another at arm's length and their arguments were fast becoming the stuff of legend. Johanna snorted derisively when he accused her of purposefully picking fights. She grinned each time the accusation was made and retorted, "How is it my problem that you can't go a day without insulting me? I'm only defending myself. I'm so sorry if it impugns your dignity, Mister Fancy pants Director or whatever the hell they call you." He rolled his eyes but the tiny creases that lifted the corners of his mouth betrayed him. She didn't call it a relationship. Never that. Nor was he a friend. She could barely tolerate him. She did enjoy their fights. He wasn't afraid of her and didn't shy away from her brutal reputation. His fire matched her restlessness. In that light, they were equals. She was happy with their arrangement.
Frustrated, Johanna ripped the envelope and removed the single sheet of paper. She narrowed her eyes as she scanned the few brief lines. Her eyebrows arched in amazement and she let out a little laugh. A smile curved her lips and she leaned her head back, eyes closing as a weigh lifted off her shoulders. Smiling to herself, she read the lines once more, confirming what she already knew to be true.
Johanna,
Our toasting was last week. It was small. Haymitch and Delly were our witnesses. We both wanted you to know. She said to tell you thank you for everything you did for both of us. We miss you. Don't be a stranger. I just wanted to tell you that he didn't win. See you soon.
Love,
Peeta
End Part 6