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Johanna wakes up in the little bed in Antonia's apartment in District 2. Enobaria is beside her, curled against her chest, still asleep, and in the dim light, she can just make out Enobaria's nieces on the other bed across the room. It is tight with all four of them in the same bedroom, but she doesn't mind, and she doesn't think the girls do, either. When there's so much chaos outside, with the building rocking and rumbling that sounds less distant every day, it's nice to be able to set eyes on each other.
There haven't been any bombings in the village itself, and the girls go to school each day, still. Antonia still goes to work. Only Enobaria and Johanna remain at home, hidden from the rest of the District, out of fear that they would again be captured to promote some warlord's agenda.
In the dim light of morning, Johanna wonders if the rumbling she hears at night is back at the camp, if Finnick and Peeta and Annie are being attacked, but it's impossible to know. There are limited television and radio segments, and what she and Enobaria see is all carefully crafted propos, clips that the Capitol or District 13 want them to see, each fighting the other for control of the airwaves.
"You're awake," Enobaria whispers.
Johanna nods. It's impossible to sleep in, really. The pain is still there, even if it's a bit better now that she doesn't have the anxiety of being at the camp to go with it. She can use the morphling if she really needs it, and no one is holding her against her will. She can rest when she wants. Quietly, they both pad out to the living room to let the girls sleep a little longer.
Enobaria starts making the same porridge they've eat every morning since they've arrived: some thick mash mixed with chilis and a little cheese. It's growing on Johanna, as long as she can sip some tea while she eats. Antonia will be up soon, and then the girls, and then the common areas of the apartment will be busy with everyone getting ready for their day. But for now it's quiet as the other three still sleep, and Johanna sits on a stool at the kitchen counter to watch Enobaria work.
"I think I need to go out," Enobaria says.
"Like… to get some sunlight?" It has been cramped in here, and she understands that it feels a little bit like a prison of a different kind.
But Enobaria shakes her head. "I need to see if there's anyone. Dom, maybe. Or Lyme. Someone who can help me convince the rebels to think of a better plan than killing everyone here."
Johanna doesn't know who Enobaria is talking about. Lyme is a victor, from her childhood, she thinks, but she doesn't bother confirming this. Because there are other, more concerning things to ask about. Like the fact that Enobaria wants to talk to people about war plans. And the fact that Enobaria is talking about doing this alone. "We came here to get away from that stuff," she says, but even as she speaks, she lacks conviction. She knows probably better than anyone that just because you look away from something, doesn't mean it stops existing. It was why she resented Enobaria for years, because while she was risking her neck trying to help the rebels, Enobaria had been what? She puts her spoon down, another wave of nausea coming. Enobaria had been trying to protect her family, something that Johanna hadn't had to worry about.
Enobaria seems to detect the change and runs a towel under the cool water of the faucet and places it on the back of Johanna's neck. It's relieving against the nausea and the heat of the apartment, and she allows herself to lean back against Enobaria a bit. "I want to get away from it," Enobaria says, "But you know Coin wants any excuse to bomb the Nut. And I'm worried about things around here, too. A lot of higher-ups in the military live near here, if they go after them, I don't want them just flattening this whole neighborhood like they did in the Capitol."
It makes sense. Enobaria was more fit, and she was familiar with her own city. She could sneak around and even get back to the green zone far faster than Johanna could. She had allies, with any luck. She could negotiate with the people here to actually try to end the fighting. But Johanna's hesitance isn't logical at all. "I don't want to be alone."
That was it, really. In all the time since she was reaped, she was never truly alone. Back in 7, she had Blight and Jackson to keep an eye on her, and in the Capitol as a mentor she had Finnick and Haymitch and a couple others she got along with well enough to call friends. She had allies in the Quarter Quell. Even in the prison and after, she was with Enobaria and Peeta and Annie. Even after leaving the camp, she stayed beside Enobaria. She had never truly been by herself.
Enobaria sighs, and wraps her arms around Johanna. Johanna is sure she's getting wet from the towel, but she likes the contact too much to protest. "I don't want to leave. But I don't want us to die, either. Stay with my sister and the girls. You can look after them if anything happens. And I will come back as soon as I can."
They say goodbye to Antonia and the girls when they go to work and school as if this was any other day, and then go back to the bedroom and sleep together for the first time. Johanna feels needy, desperate, wanting to connect to Enobaria in any way possible, and draws their bodies close together. She feels lacking now, since the prison, starved and scarred and something less than what she was before, but she's not looking at herself when Enobaria is before her. She's careful with Enobaria, conscious of how many people have touched her without permission, have violently invaded her, but Enobaria pulls her closer, encourages her to keep going. After, they lay naked and sweaty on the bed they share, and Johanna feels a lump in her throat as she wonders if this is the last time she'll ever see Enobaria.
"I'll come back," Enobaria says, standing and packing her rucksack. "So wait for me. Be careful, alright?"
Johanna gets dressed as well, to lock the door behind Enobaria, and thinks about showering, about doing something with her day. But what is there to do? Enobaria was gone, there is nothing for her to do, and everything hurt, so she just lay back down and slept the day away. She wakes up sometime between the girls getting home from school and Antonia getting home from work, based on the clock on the wall.
"Where's Auntie?" Camellia had wandered into the bedroom at the sound of Johanna's shuffling, and Johanna finds she doesn't have the words to answer. Her head hurts so badly it's making her vision close in, and she can feel the nausea threaten to give way to outright retching, even though there's nothing in her stomach.
Ophelia follows, slightly taller, more serious than her sister, and hands Johanna a glass of water. "Are you sick?"
She nods, because that's the easiest way to explain it.
"Are you going to die?"
She shakes her head.
Later, when Antonia comes home, she deduces the situation quickly. She calls Johanna into her bedroom to talk while dinner is cooking. "So she's gone, then? And not even a word to me?" She makes a 'psh' sound.
"She's coming back. But she had to go try to work something out before the rebels bombed this place."
"Stupid girl. Just like her brother."
Johanna can hear the love and affection in the words, at the same time Antonia's resentment is leaking out. "I'm sorry if I'm a burden to you, I can-"
"You will stay here. You're no trouble," she says firmly. She paces for a moment, turning, then nodding to herself. "Just… how about you keep the medications here, in my room, away from the girls?"
Johanna nods, embarrassed, and goes to fetch the morphling.
Enobaria leaves while the sun is still high, which she knows is a risk, but she thinks it's probably better than sneaking around after sundown, when the streets are empty and soldiers are still patrolling. At least now there are plenty of people in the streets that she can blend in among, people getting on and off the trams, people at the markets, and neighbors cleaning up and chatting around the apartment buildings. She takes the tram down a few stops to the Victor's Village which is far less busy, and walks quickly to Lyme's house. She knocks on the door. There's no answer even after she tries a second time, and she feels stupid. Of course Lyme would be out in the middle of the day, shopping or working or doing something, and she turns away to go hide out somewhere until evening when a movement from the house next door catches her eye.
Her house is here, too, she realizes, but she hadn't even thought of going back. Anyone looking for her would keep an eye on the place, would detect movement at the house within days, if not hours of her arrival. But it's not her house that's right next to Lyme's, but Timon's.
Timon was older, one of those pre-Quell victors that was still sort of relevant, like Beetee or Blight. He usually didn't mentor anymore, but he had for this last Quarter Quell, since both Brutus and Enobaria were going back in the arena. And now she sees him watching her from his window, his expression a mixture of disapproval and foreboding. She nods at him, mostly to show that she can see him staring, and he disappears. She wonders if he's really the type to rat her out to the Peacekeepers, but a moment later his front door opens, and he ushers her in quickly.
Sitting with him in his little kitchen, she can see how old he looks. He's probably only 45 or so, but she can see gray hair mixing with the black, and wrinkles permanently set in his forehead. He pours them each some iced tea and shakes his head as he sits. "She doesn't get back for another half hour or so. You can wait here until then."
"Thanks."
"How long have you been back?"
She tenses up slightly at the question, and not even because she thinks he might pass the information along. It's more that any question feels like an interrogation, and reminds her too much of that prison, and she's still too sensitive about the whole thing. She shrugs. "A week?"
He nods. "I got stuck, too. After the Games. They took the Mentors in for questioning. Didn't get released until a few weeks ago."
She wonders about the timing, if it was before or after the bombing, but she doesn't ask. She supposes it's a good thing he wasn't killed. "Anyone from here bother you since?"
He takes a sip of the drink, and she watches the condensation roll down the edge of the glass as he sets it down. "They came the first couple days, but I didn't have much to tell them. I'm not very valuable as a hostage, either." He shakes his head, looks like he wants to say more, then thinks better of it.
"What is it?"
"It's nothing."
"Tell me." She doesn't know why she's pressing him now, but she feels so unsure of where anyone stands, of what is happening in her own district, that she is grasping for anything at this point.
"Listen, Baria. I'm glad you survived the Quell. For that reason alone, I'm glad the Games ended early. But that's it. Otherwise, I don't know if I'll ever forgive the rebels for that bullshit 'plan' and everything that happened since."
She nods, thinking that he is finished, but he continues. "You had her, anyways, that girl from 7. You could have taken the 2 from 12 if you were careful. Even Finnick Odair, I think you could have had him. You could have won it fair and square and we could be living like normal right now."
She tries to imagine this. The reality where she kills Johanna, but she doesn't get trapped in a prison and get raped for a month. The reality where she kills Katniss, and there's no war. A Games where she kills Peeta, and Snow lives. The version where she kills Finnick, and the Capitol isn't just rubble now. It doesn't matter, she realizes, because even if she had killed Johanna, the arena was always going to break, she wouldn't have known enough to stop it. And then she would have just gone through everything without Johanna at her side, and she doesn't like that version at all. "It's not worth dwelling on," she says, and he grunts.
She wonders what happened to him in the 30 years since his Games, that he was so afraid of change that he was content with just this lonely house and his victor’s pension, damn the victims in the Games, damn the horrors of the Capitol. But, she supposes, she more or less felt the same until very recently. She had been forced into sex with certain sponsors, and she had mentored kids to their deaths year after year, and she hadn’t wanted to become a rebel. The conversation feels turned around on her, and she's relieved when she sees Lyme walking up to her house.
When she gets to Lyme's, she finds it more familiar than she expects. She had been here what? A year ago? Maybe a little less. But Lyme looks different now, more serious, her hair cut shorter, her clothing more practical, her gaze more suspicious. She looks at Enobaria like she can't believe she's alive, and then like Enobaria is part of a trap, someone come to give her terrible news.
"I wasn't followed, I don't think," Enobaria says. "I want to work together to try to get the rebels to take District 2 peacefully."
Lyme takes this in, nodding slowly, and then she pulls Enobaria in for a hug. "I thought you were dead!" she says, her voice a half-sob.
She makes dinner, drawing the curtains so no one could see in, and Enobaria explains where she's been. She smirks a little as Enobaria explains how she traveled across the desert with Jo, Peeta, and Annie. "With three rebels? Goodness, how you've changed."
She wants to explain how this all came to be, but that would involve her explaining what happened in the prison, and she doesn’t want to do that. Instead she watches Lyme work, carefully cutting vegetables, then meat, adding them to the pot to make soup. It wasn't much different than Antonia, except that when Enobaria came to see Lyme in the past, she always was careful to hurry out again, afraid someone would suspect she had come over for anything more than a social call. It's nice to sit and have a meal together, to do more than just sleep together and leave, even considering the circumstances.
When she visited Lyme before, she hadn't much wanted to talk. She had known Lyme was a rebel, or at least that she spoke with them, and she wanted no part. She didn't approve, but she still kept coming over, because she was so terribly lonely. Now, she's glad to have someone to rely on. "I heard about the Capitol bombing from someone who read the report firsthand," she says, as Lyme is stirring the soup.
"And you trust this person?"
She nods. She explains about what happened, and about the cover-up. She tells Lyme about how she had to drag herself and the others most of the way back without help. When she finishes, Lyme scoffs, shaking her head. "And now they're going to want to bomb the shit out of this place too. Set up in the Capitol, just the same as Snow."
"We need to go there, as soon as we can. I want to get one of the soldiers I know to come along, too."
Lyme ladles the soup into two bowls and comes to sit beside Enobaria at the counter. "Alright, we can leave before dawn. Should be able to get up the ridge before the sun is fully up. They gonna shoot us when we approach the gate at the green zone?"
She shakes her head. "No. Probably not."
Later, once the dishes are cleaned up, she follows Lyme upstairs to pack. She sits on the foot of Lyme's bed and watches as she stuffs a couple days’ worth of clothes into a rucksack, and reminds her of things she's forgetting, like a hat and a hairbrush. "It's been lonely here without you, Baria," she says, sitting down on the bed beside her, leaning in close.
And Enobaria shifts away without even thinking about it, and then she feels bad about it. "I'm sorry, I-"
But Lyme shakes her head. "I'm sorry. That was thoughtless of me. I should have known better."
And then, because she's embarrassed that she can't even handle having someone touch her side, fully closed, Enobaria says, "I'm seeing someone now, actually." She can feel her cheeks burning.
She can see Lyme's expression change to amusement. She forgets about the age difference between herself and Lyme sometimes, but at moments like this, when she's getting teased, she feels impossibly young. "Oh? Meet someone in the green zone? Are you dating a rebel?"
She stands to go sleep on the couch, far too embarrassed to answer Lyme now.
"I can sit here for a while, if you want to get dinner."
Annie looks up to see Haymitch, standing just past the curtains that divided Finnick's bed from the rest of the infirmary. She opens her mouth to reply, but it's dry, and she almost chokes. She can't remember when she last moved from the spot she has been sitting in, let alone taken a sip of water. She shakes her head instead as she reaches for the glass of water on the table by the bed to stop her coughing. "It's alright, I'm not hungry."
She catches him glancing down at her stomach, just for a moment, and knows what he's thinking, or she can guess: isn't it irresponsible to starve her growing child, just because she isn't in the mood to eat?
"Can I bring you something?"
She doesn't want to talk to him anymore. She doesn't want him to ask her any more questions. She doesn't want him to hover there or even look at her. "I think I'll just take a walk," she says, because it's the easiest way to separate herself from him. She could yell, tell him to stop coming around, to stop pitying her, but she has a feeling he'd just send someone else instead.
Haymitch takes the seat besides Finnick in that too warm, overcrowded infirmary, and Annie leaves. She doesn't want to leave Finnick's side — she hadn't, really, in the days since the bombing — but she had to admit that she could use the break, and she definitely didn't want to fall into a conversation with Haymitch.
Aboveground, the camp is tense, with soldiers moving in formations, and all the lookout posts well-staffed. She knows they're going to the Capitol today, or maybe they had already left. They had tracked the bombing from there and were planning to take out Commander Price in retaliation. She feels torn, half of her happy if she never hears anything about bombs or war plans again, and the other half eager for revenge against the person who put Finnick in a coma.
There were others, too. Mrs. Everdeen was killed, and at least 3 of the soldiers. Dozens were injured. Sweet Primrose Everdeen was running herself ragged trying to help the other Healers, and she seemed afraid that if she stopped for even a few hours, she would collapse into grief. Annie understood: she had done nothing since the bombing, and she felt like she was in a void.
Katniss was going to the Capitol. Perhaps she had already left. She, like Primrose, insisted on moving every waking moment, but her action took the form of practicing her combat skills, insisting she be let in the room with Coin and Plutarch so she would have a chance to go to the Capitol and 'set things right'. Annie feels insane, like no one sees what she does: that clearly this was just escalation after escalation back and forth, and would probably never end until all of Panem was destroyed.
She wants to leave. If Finnick were in any condition to move, she would have taken him out of this god-forsaken desert back to District 4 as soon as possible. But she is rooted to the spot, stuck until he can at least breathe on his own.
And what then? What if he wakes up and isn't the same anymore? What if he never wakes up? These questions haunt her as she walks through the camp, back to her tent to lie down for a few minutes. She didn't want to go to the mess tent, didn't want to chance a conversation with anyone else, but she had some food stashed away, some protein bars and a couple apples, and she could make do with those.
But there's some sort of commotion as she's passing the gate, soldiers out and armed looking at something approaching. She wants to just pass, to go to her tent and be alone, because what does she care about intruders or threats or anything anymore, but she glances out as well, mostly to see if there was anything coming that could hurt her baby, or Finnick.
She almost turns away again, since it was just a few people walking up. They could be turned away or granted an audience with Coin and it made little difference to her, but she stops at the last second at the woman on one side. She knew that stride, she knew that silhouette. She had followed that shape across the desert for weeks. Quickly, she tries to scan for Johanna, but she's not there. The other woman in the trio is taller than Enobaria, and the third person is clearly a man.
She tries to surmise the situation, but can't. Was Enobaria a prisoner? Was she coming back of her own volition? And if so, where was Johanna? Annie wishes that Peeta was there, and then feels guilt at the thought. She had been with Peeta instead of Finnick when the bombs went off. Why had she done that? Was this punishment for her growing too close to another man? It feels irrational, but also, part of her can't shake the feeling. She does the ritual, stomping her foot, holding her breath, but it only serves to reassure her that she won't make things worse than they already are.
She waits for the gates to open, for the three outsiders to be let in. The soldiers are taking no risks, it seems, and disarm the man who was dressed in District 2 Peacekeeper gray. They point their guns at the backs of the three as they direct them towards the main meeting tent. She thinks of her cot in the tent, and her food, but she ignores these sentiments and follows, curious.
She thinks she recognizes the other woman, now, watching her close up. She had seen her Games when she was at the Academy, the arena like an old railyard with train cars to hide in and attack from. Lyme. Annie can't remember her last name, but she remembers the way she had gotten her hands on poison blow darts and shot them with impressive accuracy out a tiny train window.
They turn into the main meeting tent, and Annie wants to follow, but one of the soldiers blocks her way. "Sorry, you can't go in there. No speaking with the enemy."
"The enemy? Enobaria was here, lived here."
The soldier considers this, then sneers. "She was only here because we brought her here, obviously. She left the first chance she could. Her allegiance is with District 2, clearly."
And so what if it is? Annie wants to shout. She'd defend District 4 much sooner than fight for these rebel forces that just imparted their will on whoever got into their clutches. But she knows better than to talk back, and sits on a boulder outside the tent, waiting. They had to come out at some point.
It's Plutarch who comes to meet with them after a few minutes, and Annie assumes Coin must be preoccupied with the Capitol invasion. Plutarch's assistant, Fulvia, is there as well, with a notebook to scribe the meeting. She was a Capitolite, Annie remembers. She wonders if Fulvia agrees with the rebels' bombing of the Capitol, or whatever this attack is now.
"Miss Cresta, good afternoon." Plutarch greets her with a warm smile, and she replies, trying to sound normal, like she's not in the bottomless pit. "Are you here to see our guests?"
'Our guests' was polite phrasing, Annie thinks, and she wonders if Plutarch might share a different opinion than the soldiers guarding the door about Enobaria's enemy status. "Yes, I was hoping to see Enobaria, at least." She doesn't admit, even to herself, that it's to make sure she's fine, and to see if Johanna is still alive. She has been living with the fear that something she did, or something she forgot to do was the reason they left, and that she is at fault for getting them killed.
"Well, come in, then," Plutarch says. "We won't be speaking about anything confidential."
Annie follows Plutarch and Fulvia in, avoiding the gaze of the soldier on guard duty. Inside, Enobaria, Lyme, and the District 2 soldier were sipping water greedily, their heads together in quiet discussion. They all sit up with perfect District 2 posture when Plutarch enters.
"What a surprise," he says. "Enobaria, Lyme, and…?"
"Dom, sir," the male says. "Dominicus Pike."
"Dominicus," Plutarch says, settling down in a chair. "A pleasure." He introduces himself and Fulvia, and Annie comes forward as well, sitting in an empty chair a little to the side. Enobaria notices her, but turns back to Plutarch.
"We came to discuss a ceasefire, a way to get District 2 on board without force."
For the first time in weeks, Annie feels a trill of hope, and realizes that once again, she needs to put her faith in Enobaria to help her out of this mess of a situation.
Peeta fills ill on the ride home from the Capitol. For one thing, he hated the Capitol, had never had a good experience there. He can't help but remember his Games, both of them, and the time in the prison. He fears losing his mind again just being in proximity. For another, he was shocked by seeing the damage from the bombing from above, horrified that Gale had helped to cause such destruction. It looked like a full quarter of the city was decimated, just rubble-filled gray land from above. But mostly, he doesn't know how to recover from the mission they had just completed, an assassination of the current Capitol leadership.
He didn't shoot anyone, sure, but he had provided cover, had helped with the navigation in the tunnels under the Capitol. He had watched as rebel soldiers shot and killed not only Hierophant Price, but his two aides and several guards. They unfurled the banner from the Training Center, the place Price had been using as a base, and it read: "The rebellion is here. Panem, you are free."
It's stupid, he thinks, to hang the banner here. The Capitolites already had the most freedom, why would they want things to change? But Boggs explains to him how the banner would make the national news thanks to a resistance effort, and people in the outer districts would see the message. "Besides," another soldier said, "Not everyone in the Capitol is living the high life."
That was true, he knew. There had been Capitolites dragged into that prison he was kept in, there were Avox all throughout the city. Everyone in the Capitol was certainly not equal.
They're almost back when Katniss comes to sit beside him. She is tense still, like a spring, filled with adrenaline she seemed unable to exhaust. "Now it's just District 2," she says, determined.
He wonders what she means. Were they to kill people there? To bomb it? He doesn't want to live in the old Panem any longer, he hates the fact that his family and neighbors were killed in a bombing due to his Hunger Games, but when did it end? Was it right to kill people just to have the rebels take over and impart their will? He can't even fathom a Panem without Snow, even though he's been living it, let alone what a new Panem would look like.
"I'm tired," he says, and he is. He's tired right now, exhausted from the stress of running the operation, from the physical fitness it took, from the horror of watching people die. But he's tired in general, sick of living in a nation at war, of bombings and killings and secret plots. He doesn't miss the Panem of before, but he enjoyed his ordinary days.
"You think I'm not?" Katniss snaps back. She seems to realize she was harsh and looks at the ground, not quite apologizing, but looking regretful. It reminds Peeta somehow of Johanna. "I'm so tired, and scared, and sometimes I wonder if we're even the good guys, but what can we do?"
And that was the question, really. Johanna and Enobaria had left, but he doesn't know if it's because they had decided the rebels were just as bad as the old guard, or for another reason. He questions it, too, but he isn't the face of this war like Katniss is. "I want things to change too," he says. He doesn't want to live in a Panem where half his district could be killed just because he dared to try to escape a death game. "But I don't want to start something worse."
He feels bad. He doesn't have advice to give her. He doesn't know the litmus test of what makes someone better or worse for Panem. And the rebels are the only ones making strides towards a new Panem, so what other option do they have?
He doesn't expect to see Enobaria when he lands. She's standing beside Plutarch and another woman who must be a Victor, she just had a certain essence around her. They go to debrief from the mission in the Capitol, and after they receive a meal, they sit to talk. Peeta wants to shower and change, he feels filthy with grime and the feeling that people were killed feet away from him, but he knows better than to skip the debriefing.
"We need to move on District 2, and soon," Coin says, once Boggs is done giving report. "Quickly, before they develop a counter."
"There's no reason to take down the Nut," the blonde woman says, the other Victor. Her name was Lyme, he learns, and she was from District 2. "If we can just take out Gazette and his lieutenants, the soldiers will fall in line. They just want their paycheck and it will help with their compliance if their whole district isn't destroyed in this war."
Peeta sees the wisdom in what she is saying. It would be far better to have a peaceful transition of power. He remembers the time he snuck onto Beetee's computer terminal, when he saw the plans to bomb the Nut. Would the rebels have done it, if no one proposed an alternative?
Coin goes into detail about who they need to take out, what parts of the district they could be found in, and how these men are specialized, military-trained leaders, the kind of people that would be far harder to kill than the rich, spoiled leaders of the Capitol.
Peeta zones out, letting the others finalize the plans. He doesn't even want to go, but at the same time, he doesn't know if he could live with himself if he wasn't an active participant. Is this a hero complex, or just the desire to shape the future with his own hands, to have no regrets at the end because he did what he could? It's probably the latter, he thinks. He doesn't know if he could live knowing he could have done more, he could have saved someone had he been there.
He catches Enobaria's eye, and she quirks an eyebrow at him. He feels strange, like she was able to read his thoughts. Once the meeting lets out, he goes to her, one final conversation before he could get a shower and some rest. "You came back," he says.
She nods. All of her movements are controlled, like always, but like always it seemed to be a false calm, the kind she was upholding like a leopard mutt, ready to jump into attack at a moment's notice. "I did," she confirms.
She looks better than last time he saw her, a little better fed, her injuries healed, her hair in neat braids. It makes him wonder what things were like in District 2 proper, if she had been better taken care of than she was here. "How's Johanna?"
She shrugs, a little quirk in her mouth the only giveaway that this question was anything more than casual. "She's alright. Better."
He nods. He doesn't want to argue, doesn't want to press her for details as he's sure she's been pressed all day. And he's tired himself. But he feels reassured with her there, with Lyme there too, more than he had been on the hovercraft. Because now it was not just Coin making secret plans. Others had insight, others could make suggestions. "I'm going to come," he says, "I want to be there at the end."
She nods again. "I know," she says, like it was assumed, like there was no question that he was coming. She looks up at the dark sky, at the dozens of stars shining overhead. "Please, let this be the end."