for johanna

[anniesgonemad]

cw: torture

--

Annie Cresta had been here since the trains left District 4 to bring Mags and Finnick back to the Arena. Collateral, was a word she had heard, and she knew what it meant, why they were taking her. Just in case. They needed Finnick and Mags to behave. They needed them to fight, 64 years after Mags first entered that arena, the very first volunteer. They needed to keep Annie where they could keep an eye on her.

But there was more to it, she learned quickly.

Something was going on. Something she had no idea about, having been kept in the dark by both Finnick and Mags. It reminded her of the way people had spoken in hushed tones around her after her Games, mentioning something about a bomb and the dam, but never telling her anything at all like she was too stupid, too traumatized to make heads or tales of a given situation.

At first, it hadn't been too terrible, aside from the PTSD that simply being in the Capitol brought about, particularly surrounded by those that identified themselves as doctors. She hated doctors, ever since they'd pulled her soaking-wet and exhausted out of that Arena. She didn't trust them. Didn't like the way they acted like they were better than everyone, smarter, and treated her like a child when the trauma from the Games had taken away her voice.

But things steadily got worse, and by the time the canon rang out to signify the start of the Third Quarter Quell, Annie Cresta had moved from questionings to interrogations to outright torture as they tried to get her to spill information that she didn't have. They didn't let up. The doctors seemed to take a perverse glee in making the mad victor scream, in causing her to regress, in doing whatever they could to hurt her.

When they weren't torturing her, they'd let her rot in a small white cell, her long hair tangled, her hospital gown dirtied. One meal a day, then a doctor coming to ask her if she had anything to share. She'd refuse, and they'd drag her down to their labs, and when that was over, throw her weakened body back in her cell to start it all over again.

Then, almost three weeks in, something changed. There were more whispers, louder this time. Something about the rebels, about the arena, something about an explosion and District 13. Something about Johanna. About Peeta. Names she knew. Names she recognized. Names that meant she wasn't alone. Someone here, they had to know what had happened in the Games. They had to know where Finnick was.

It takes a few days, but eventually, Annie figures out that they're keeping Johanna in the cell next to her. She waits, until the lights are lowered, and she thinks they're alone on the floor. "Jo-- johanna?" She calls to the wall, hoping her voice makes it through. "Johanna, it's Annie." Then, realizing that Johanna probably had no idea who she was (who remembered the mad Victor?) she added, "Annie Cresta."

Comments

[battle_axe]

Silence.

Johanna breathes. She sits with her back to the wall, her head leaning back on it. Her legs are drawn up, her arms wrapped around them. Small. Weak. Pathetic.

Bullshit.

"How long?"

Johanna's voice is sharp. She's not confirming who she is. Clearly, Annie knows. And she doesn't need to confirm she knows Annie. She's spent enough time with Finnick to know Annie. To know how he cares for her. Why, Johanna can't fathom. Doesn't want to fathom. Because this is what happens when you care. Innocent people get hurt.

Fucking Finnick. He's done this to her. To Annie, not Johanna. No one cares enough about Johanna to worry about her. Doesn't matter. Better that way. Johanna can take it. Annie cannot.

"How long have you been here?"

[anniesgonemad]

Yeah, that's Johanna.

Annie crawls closer to the wall, to where she swears she can feel Johanna.

How long? That's not a question she expected. But here it is. She bites her lower lip, her hand starting to play with the ends of her hair like she always did when she was distressed. "Oh. Uhm-" how long had it been? She casts her mind back over the days that turn into weeks that also just feel like hours.

"Since the reaping." How long was that? "Johanna-- what happened?"

[battle_axe]

The reaping? They'd held her since the fucking reaping?
Johanna growls low in her throat.

She's angry. She's so angry. She wants to hit, to run, to punch, to - to move. But she can't. She can't fucking move because every time she tries, her legs feel like the fucking greyish jelly she'd lapped from the bowl they threw at her. And she hates that more. They're making her weak.

She's angry at the Capitol. At Snow. At all of the idiots who play along with him. But she's angry at Finnick too.
"I'm going to punch his face in myself," she mutters to herself. Empty threat, perhaps. She's never seeing daylight again. Nor apparently, is Annie.

"What do you know?"

Johanna's ignoring the question. She can't answer that. Fucking hell, she's going to kill Finnick. Because now as well as him and the precious Mockingjay, she's stuck here protecting Annie as well.

[anniesgonemad]

"Don't hurt him!" The reaction is fast and strong. The one thing that got her through her Games was the thought of returning home to her warm bed, her stuffed animal dolphin that she had loved since she was a child, making a fort of blankets with her little brother. Now, it's been the thought of Finnick, his strong arms around her, their couch in the home they shared. If she closes her eyes she can see their mantle, where whomever had decorated originally made sure Finnick's trident was displayed prominently. She can almost hear the rain on their roof.

She can't think about that too much, or she'll find herself slipping back into her head, Going Away, as they had started calling it.

"Please- not his fault." None of this was. He was a Capitol favorite. They'd known since the Quell was announced he'd be back in the Arena. and Mags had promised she wouldn't let Annie return.

She shakes her head and is silent for several moments, before realizing Johanna can't see her non-verbal reactions. That would make this difficult, as words had been failing her more and more often. But she can try. "Nothing. They keep asking, I keep telling, I don't know, I don't know." Her fingers work their way higher up in her hair, wrapping strands around themselves.

"I don't know anything, Johanna. Did-- who-- who won?" There was a Games. There had to be a winner. a Victor. And if Johanna was here-

she covers her mouth as a sob escapes.

[battle_axe]

Annie's anxiety is palpable even through a wall. The poor woman is practically hysterical. She's not going to be use. She's not going to be comfort. She's just

She should be food. A little mouse for Johanna to sink her claws into.
It is only for Finnick that Johanna bites back her first reply.

"I won."

A lie, obviously. But it'll shut Annie up. Shut down the questions. Stop the inevitable 'Where's Finnick?'. Because, Johanna reasons, he may as well be dead. If there is an afterlife, that's where Annie will see him again.

"Are you hurt?"

[anniesgonemad]

Her mouth goes dry.

"No..." she whispers, and curls in closer on herself. Her hand has moved itself closer into her scalp now, still moving, now pulling and wrapping. She knows what it means to Win. And that Johanna had done it... They were gone. All of them. Finnick was gone. Mags was gone. Even Peeta and Katniss, whom she'd watched over the past year and had grown to admire. Gone.

She lets out a low, keening wail. Gone.

She doesn't care that Johanna asked if she was hurt. Yes, she was hurt. Her head hurt, her body hurt, her veins felt like they were on fire half the time and that little worm... She pulls on her hair harder, rocking herself softly.

"No. No, Johanna. Johanna, no." It can't be true. Another trick of the Capitol. Finnick couldn't lose. He couldn't. "He- he promised he'd come home."

[battle_axe]

That wail hurts more than any of the electricity they've pumped through Johanna today. Or any of the days since she's been here.
She leans back again, letting it wash over her.

"You know how it is. One Victor. The rest? Fucking fodder."

She shrugs. "At least he's not here."

[anniesgonemad]

Why does she have to be so cruel about it? Annie hates it. She wants words of comfort, but she should know better to expect them from Johanna Mason. Angry, angry Johanna Mason, who was now shoved in these cells just like her.

"Hate it," she moans. "Hate it so much, Johanna. It's not- it's not fair! He won! He already won!" It's a familiar phrase, she'd screamed versions of it over and over again when they'd announced the quell. They had already won. And now...

A thought occurs to her, and she turns to look at the wall. "Johanna? I thought I heard- the doctors said Peeta." What does that mean? She wants to know.

[battle_axe]

Johanna wants to turn. She wants to stand and hit the wall and kick and scream. But she can't, because her legs won't move. And so, she has to sit and listen to Annie having the tantrum she wishes she could have, and do it so... inadequately.

"And where was your fucking voice before all this then? Because it sure as hell wasn't loud and clear." Johanna eventually spits when she's had enough of the wailing. Which is pretty instantaneously.
"It wasn't fair on any of us, not just fucking Finnick Odair."

Fuck Finnick. And Katniss. And Haymitch. Plutarch. All of them. Fuck Snow. Fuck them all. And Fuck Annie Cresta to boot.

Slowly, painfully, she stretches her legs out, wincing at every inch gained. Fuck, the pain. But right now, it's good. Solid. Something to hold onto.

Stupid Peeta. "Three Victors. Me, him and Enobaria. You remember fang-face, right? So not only do I get this as my lovely welcome home, I get to share my damn crown with those idiots."

Lies. Pure lies. Fuck knows where Peeta is. Alive, Johanna has no doubt. And Enobaria probably is wearing a crown and swanning around with Swan, traitorous Career scum.

She sighs out of sheer frustration.

"Just shut up, okay? Shut up crying."

[anniesgonemad]

"I was loud!" She screams, because now she's got something else to focus on. "Loud, angry, screaming! Not just you, not just him! All of us! Mags!" She was gone now, too. There'd been no hope for her, with her age, volunteering for the second time in order to protect Annie. She had gone to die.

But Finnick... He could have won.

"No!" She screams, and in her frustration, bangs a hand against the wall. Her bones jolt and ache immediately, but the pain is good. "No! I won't! I won't stop! He's gone! They're gone, all of them are gone! And you- you're lying! Why! Why are you so mean?"

[battle_axe]

"What am I lying about? That Finnick's dead? That you are the reason Mags is dead? "

Johanna yells. She doesn't care if the whole world hears her. Nobody cares anyway. And right now, it feels so good to yell. She's frustrated, she's so angry and at least Annie is easy to hurt.

"You're fucking useless, Annie. You're a pathetic excuse for a Victor. No wonder you're locked in here until everybody forgets about you."

[anniesgonemad]

Annie is so easy to hurt she doesn't even have to try. Each barb thrown lands at their target. She's always been a sensitive girl.

"STOP IT!" She screams again, her hands back in her hair, but this time she puts them right over her ears, still gathering hair between her fingers, but this time trying to block out everything Johanna is saying. "Stop it! You're wrong! You're wrong!"

Her Games had always been a sore spot, a relatively boring Games as far as they went. The dam broke, and Annie survived the flood that came after. But it wasn't a bloodless victory. The Gamemakers wouldn't stand for that. No, Annie had, exhausted, fighting to keep her head above water, drowned the last girl standing between her and her bed. It was like they had all forgotten her original break with reality, the manic look in her sea-green eyes as she'd launched herself, knives out, at the boy from District 7 who had murdered her district partner, and hadn't been able to stop until there was hardly anything left to stab at.

But she knows, as she screams at Johanna, that she's right. She's a pathetic Victor, a pathetic Career, best forgotten. People already didn't want to remember her, with her awkward manner and strange way of speaking. If only it were so easy to erase a whole Victor. Back home, she'd always been regarded with a secret sense of shame.

"Stop it, Johanna. Stop it. I didn't want Mags to go. I didn't!"

[battle_axe]

It's so easy it does nothing to quench the hurt Johanna's feeling. All the pain from her own Games. Her family murdered because she wouldn't open her legs. Alone. Sent back in. No one to volunteer for her. And left whilst that damn arena collapsed around her. Left as bait. As fodder. Expendable. No one gives two shits about Johanna.

She wants to slap Annie. She wants to scream how fucking lucky the woman is. How her damn boyfriend is alive and well and living it up in Thirteen. How she doesn't have knowledge to extract. How they'll leave Annie alone because now they've got Johanna. And they know Johanna knows. And Johanna knows that tomorrow, she's going to open her own damn mouth and tell them that Annie's clueless. Because who would tell a broken Victor about a rebel plan?

"Just shut UP, Annie. Shut up, or I will shut you up."

Annie doesn't know Johanna can't move. Johanna's hoping that the threat alone, and her reputation, will be enough.

[anniesgonemad]

"No!" She's not afraid of Johanna. She should be, perhaps, but Annie knows what she is capable of doing. What she has done. Everyone underestimates her. And they were wrong.

"You will NOT! You will NOT shut me up, Johanna!" She stamps her bare foot on the cold concrete, and it doesn't even make a satisfying noise. "You are MEAN! You are CRUEL!" SHe'd thought, when she'd heard Johanna, they could be friends, maybe. At least in here. But now...

"Don't know why Finnick ever cared about you."

[battle_axe]

"Because he fucking DOESN'T!"

It comes as a reflex. No one cares about her. Snow'd whispered it to her as he stroked her face, as he touched - fucking - whilst her parents had been murdered. No one left. District 7 don't care. She's a fuck up, an embarrassment. They all know why her parents died. They chose them. They chose the Capitol's lies over Johanna. Nobody cares. Nobody gives a shit.

She NEEDS no one to give a shit, so she can give no shits.

"SHUT UP. SHUT UP SHUT UP, SHUT UP."

[anniesgonemad]

"YOU WERE HIS FRIEND!" She yells back, because from where she'd stood, they had been friends. Finnick would mention her, when he came back from mentoring. Right now, she didn't know why though. Johanna was mean and rude and while she usually trusted Finnick, this was not the case.

"I hate you!" She yells. "I wish you'd lost! I wish he were here instead of you!" Sobs overtake her words again, and she's curled up in on herself on the other side of the wall.

[battle_axe]

"So do fucking I," Johanna yells back. And this time, she means every word. Fuck, she wishes that Finnick and she could swap places. It was his idea. He'd dragger her in. She'd told him that Katniss was useless, that lover boy would just be in the way. Just because people liked them... HA!

Well, fuck them all. And fuck him for calling himself her friend.

Footsteps have her sat up, alert. There are several. Bringing in somebody else or..?

Who are they here for? Deep down, Johanna prays fervently that they're here for Annie. But what good is taking a broken woman with no knowledge when someone clearly involved is in the next cell?

Of course it's her heavy, metal door that is unlocked. Before Johanna can react, hands are on her, dragging her painfully to her feet. She tries to fight, but her arms, still twitching from the electricity before, jerk and flop. They manhandle her, ignoring her profanities, as they drag her away, her toes trailing on the rough, concrete floor as they do.


Hours later, Annie's door is opened and unceremoniously, Johanna is pushed in. The woman, barely conscious, stumbles and starts to crumple. By now, her long dark hair is shaved to bristles, her eye is swollen shut and her body twitches. Still, she screams slurs at their captives, long after the door is shut and the footsteps have faded. She hasn't even noticed Annie Cresta.

[anniesgonemad]

The door swings open, and Annie is alert, clutching at the threadbare blanket they'd given her like it was a weapon she could use. But they don't come for her. Instead, it is another young woman thrown in with her. It takes her a moment to recognize her. Johanna, the same woman she had been cursing for hours.

Here she was, beaten and broken, her hair shorn short, and Johanna keeps fighting. The noise fills the cell, and Annie waits for it to die down before she reaches out, gently putting a hand on Johanna's shoulder.

"Johanna?" She whispers. She's mad at her. Furious. But her friend, because they were friends, right?, needs help.

"Here. Get- get dry." She holds out the blanket.

[battle_axe]

Johanna flinches roughly, quite unaware that Annie's there until the woman speaks.

"Fuck off," she says instinctively. "Touch me again and I'll break every finger in your hand." And then she looks.
Fucking Annie Cresta.

Johanna can't cope with this.

She snatches at the blanket. Stares at it. Of course she got a blanket. Johanna has to hold back a laugh. Of course Annie got a blanket. Of fucking course she did. And of course she'd give it away. Like it's nothing. Like it's not the only possession she owns. Fuck this shit.

Johanna drops the towel and runs a shaking hand slowly through the bristles on her head. Annie's right. She's wet. The fucking butchers had missed spots too, and run some straight to her scalp. She screams her fury again, and beats her hand on the concrete. Fuck, it hurts. Everything hurts. And now Annie Cresta is staring at her with her funny coloured eyes all big and round as if she's scared of the utter mess of a woman crumbled on the floor.

"What?" Johanna barks. "What?"

[anniesgonemad]

"Johanna!" She's not mad about the threat, the threat doesn't mean anything. It's the reality of what is happening in front of her that means everything to her.

She lets Johanna scream. But when she beats her hand, she can't stand it. She's pulling at her hair again, watching Johanna from her corner of the room that she's taken refuge in after her own bouts of torture.

And then Johanna-- like it's nothing.

"It's okay," she whispers. "You can cry. You can scream. Sometimes it helps." She doesn't extend a hand to her, though.

[battle_axe]

Annie allowing her to cry shuts Johanna up. She forces herself to sit up, dragging herself inch by painful inch until she's sat with her back against the door and her legs out in front. Her head hangs. She is exhausted. Everything hurts. Her legs. Her stomach. Her face, her hands, her head. She aches.

"Never fucking cry," she says, harshly. "Never give them what they want." Her breathing is shallow. Somewhere, from some other cell, a boy is screaming. Johanna can't be bothered to listen. She's heard it for most of the day.

"I've told them to leave you the fuck alone," she spits at Annie. "They're not coming for you again. So you can stop being so fucking scared."

No, Annie. Johanna's saved you. Now you're going to die a slow death of malnourishment and isolation. Unless Johanna murders you first. Aren't you lucky?

[anniesgonemad]

Annie winces at Johanna's words. Never cry. If only. These days, she cries too much, too often. Ever since they'd announced the Quell, Annie's lived in an ocean of tears.

The boy's screams echo through the corridors. Annie wants to block the noise out.

"You-" Johanna had done something for her. Something nice. She'd told them she didn't know. She didn't know if the doctors would listen or anything, but Johanna had done something for her. Suddenly, she doesn't feel so alone.

Ignoring Johanna's warning, she reaches another arm out to fold the other girl into an embrace, even if she can't heed her advice to stop crying. "I would-- go everyday. If you needed me to. To share the pain. I don't want my friends hurting."

[battle_axe]

"I'm not your friend," Johanna's words are harsh, but despite the fierce warnings, she makes absolutely no move to shove Annie away. She tells herself it's because she's exhausted. Deep down, she realises it feels nice. Slowly, Johanna's head drops to Annie's shoulder. It's as good as an embrace as Annie will get.

The moment is punctuated by Peeta's screams.

After a moment of acknowledging them, Johanna quips, "Pretty brutal, this fucking Victory Tour."

Annie's not stupid. This isn't what happens to Victors. Well, not to this extent. Johanna needs an excuse. Needs a reason for the three of them to be there. Needs a reason why she's being tortured. Needs to keep Annie safe. For Finnick. Fucking Finnick.

[anniesgonemad]

"Sure, Johanna," she says, surprisingly sarcastic for a woman in her position. She lets Johanna put her head against her shoulder, and waits an appropriate amount of time before she even starts to shift her closer.

"It's not a tour," she tells her, because Johanna is right, Annie isn't stupid. This whole thing is wrong. Two Victors was strange enough, but three? Not when she can hear the screams, with the whispers she has heard. The tour, after all, is a few months after the Victory itself. But the weeks following the Victory, that's when you're in the Capitol, when you're interviewed again and they show you the hilight reel of the worst time of your life and you are forced to sit there and watch something break so far deep within you that you will never recover, and hear people cheering it on. You're forced to watch things your mind has blocked out to protect you. And then you go home and they kill your family because you said the wrong thing as you relived your trauma on a public stage.

She whimpers at the memory.

"Tell me, Johanna. I'm not stupid." Mags and Finnick had late night meetings that would always end when she entered the room. "Why is this happening?"

[battle_axe]

Johanna doesn't move, even as Annie edges nearer. She's tired. In pain. Angry.
She doesn't need holding though. She still doesn't need comfort. But Annie's shoulder is definitely comfier than the hard floor.

And then Annie has to ruin it. She whimpers, like a stray puppy looking for a new owner. She asks questions. And Johanna is neither sympathetic nor about to tell a mad girl who runs her mouth about the rebellion. She shoves Annie away, roughly sitting herself up.

"No. You're fucking right. It's not a tour. It's me. Running my mouth again." She tries to grin: it hurts and comes out as a lopsided sneer.
"Can't have a Victor's Victor who can't behave herself, right? That's where Enobaria comes in. Give her the crown. Make out like she's the Victor."

She laughs sarcastically, high pitched and through gritted teeth. "They figured they'd teach me a few more manners before they let me go."