Home Fanfics Go Back
When the door to the prison breaks open, Enobaria can feel the adrenaline shoot through her, her heart beating wildly and her muscles tensing, but she can't make her body actually do anything. Here was something new; something different, after so many weeks of the same horrible treatment, but she was so tired, so weak and thirsty, and more than that, she wasn't sure this was a good thing. The people who came through the busted-in door were more soldiers, in heavier body armor, and they carried assault weapons. They yelled to each other, their voices echoing off the stone walls, and once one is in front of her cell, she realizes she's never seen anything like them before. They're not Peacekeepers, and they aren't wearing the uniform of the Presidential Guard. She has no idea who they are.
"Get to the back of your cell," one yells at her, and she obeys, because she is from District 2, obeying orders is in her bones, and because she's been here for over a month, by her own rudimentary estimation, and her spirit is long since broken. If a man tells her to do something, she's learned it is better to do it without a fight, otherwise the punishment will be far worse. Slowly, painfully, she backs herself up towards the back wall of her cell, her muscles finally accepting the signals from her brain and moving, albeit awkwardly.
There's fighting; gunfire, and she comes to understand that the soldiers who came into the prison are not on the same side as the Peacekeepers holding her here. But she isn't naive. She understands that doesn't automatically make them her allies. She huddles in the back of her cell, unable to see the others due to the bodies fighting in the corridor. Not Peeta across from her, nor Johanna beside him. Annie Cresta was kept in the cell beside hers, so she could never see her, but she can hear her now, gasping, shrieking a bit, and it sets Enobaria on edge.
Finally, someone comes to her cell, and she hears the electronic lock release. "Enobaria Weaver? District 2?" he calls. She doesn't want to answer. She's so sick of answering questions, of leaving her cell to go to men who only want her body, who see her as less than human, and she realizes now that she's shaking at the thought of going to a stranger who might mean more harm than good. It's hard to stand on shaking legs, and she's not even sure if she could speak, her mouth is so dry.
He seems to take pity on her, but detecting her weakness, he steps forward, probably to help her to her feet. Just like the Peacekeepers would when she refused to come, when they had to drag her to the interrogation room…. She makes a noise that is foreign to her own ears, a keening sort of wail, and holds her arms up crossed in front of her, a universal sort of stay-away gesture. He seems to understand, or maybe he just sees the bruises, on her arms, at her neck, and stops about halfway in the cell and crouches down.
"Hi," he says. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Boggs." she sees now that he's older, with a gentle sort of face, but she can't move. She can barely think. Her heart is beating too quickly. "I'm here with a rescue party, but we need to move quickly to get you out of this prison. We have a hovercraft waiting, but we have to move now to make sure we can get away."
"Boggs, let's go," another solider calls. "She's a loyalist, they're not going to hurt her."
Boggs licks his lips, not breaking her gaze as he answers the other soldier. "They already fucking have," he calls. "She's coming with us."
He puts a hand out, and she grabs it, letting him pull her to her feet. This, at least, she could do, running on autopilot away from this dungeon. These people might not be her allies, but she is willing to bet on a maybe instead of a sure stay in hell. And it's not easy to move with the group, but it's possible, with adrenaline powering her legs. It is like being in the Games, where she should have fallen down hours ago, but she's still going, because she has to, and because her body could be superhuman for a bit with she needed it to be.
They twist and turn down underground corridors until they emerge at a staircase, and this part is difficult. She hasn't been fed well, and she knows she's dehydrated. She feels dizzy the moment she begins to climb, and her heart feels out of rhythm. Boggs finds her, his hand on her back, leading her up the stairs. Somewhere ahead of her, she sees Annie Cresta, a flash of white in a bedsheet as she is rushed up the stairs. She doesn't see Johanna. She doesn't see Peeta.
And then there's a brilliant flash of sunlight as she's momentarily on a rooftop. She doesn't even have time to comprehend it: to realize that she can't remember the last time she's seen the sun, before she's pushed onto a hovercraft, a couple people boarding behind her, and then she's jostled around as the thing takes off before anyone has taken a seat, let alone secured themselves with a seatbelt.
The soldiers break off into groups, some of them flying the hovercraft, others resting, others taking an interest in the prisoners. Enobaria sits in the open area at the back of the craft, wishing someone would answer her questions or maybe give her some water, but she's distracted by Peeta. He's laying on the ground, sweating with fever, mumbling the same nonsense she's been hearing for weeks. "She's a mutt… she's a liar… not real…"
"Do you want me to look at it?" One of the soldiers, a younger man, has walked over and takes the seat two down from Enobaria. He points at his eye, indicating the black eye Enobaria forgot she had, a punishment for fighting back against the guards a couple days before, when they had tried their usual antics, raping her in the interrogation room. That was when they turned off the spigot in her room, which meant she also was unable to wash them from her skin.
She realizes she's taken too long to answer when his expression changes to confusion, perhaps wondering if she's even capable of understanding him, but she had just been lost in thought. Any mention of the black eye brings up things she doesn't wish to remember, but she can't help but think about dozens of times per day. He reaches forward, as if to touch it, as if there would be any reason to touch it, and she shrinks away. "No, don't!" she says, shame burning her the moment she says it. She is a Victor, a Mentor. She does not tell men 'no'. And these people just rescued her, who is she to shame this man in front of his peers? She braces for the punishment that is likely to follow.
But it's not another soldier who comes over, it's Johanna. Skin and bones and shaved head, she still maintained that trademark insolent expression, as if even being tortured for over a month wasn't enough to rid her of contempt. "Don't touch her," she says, sitting in the single seat the soldier had left vacant between Enobaria and himself: a buffer. And then she seems to sag, as if she was using energy she didn't really have, and Enobaria wonders if she really came over just to sit beside her.
The soldier - Hawthorne, Enobaria reads his patch - looks at Johanna, as if he can't comprehend what's happened. "But you-"
"It's different." Her voice sounds tired, as if she can't even stay awake in a conversation, and Enobaria wonders how long ago they stopped Johanna's rations. "They didn't hurt us all in the same ways. Look at Peeta - that's different shit."
Gale bites his lips, and Enobaria isn't sure if he understands, but she appreciates Johanna's effort. Johanna has kept her body facing Gale, but that means that her back is leaning on Enobaria, just a bit, but as fatigue sets in, Enobaria can feel her weight increasing. She doesn't mind, really. It's been over a month since she's been touched by anyone who hasn't meant her harm, so just to feel the weight of Johanna against her is alright, since it meant that she has at least one ally in this situation.
Which is crazy to think about, because she and Johanna had been in a death match at the end of the Quarter Quell, before their capture. She wonders if her knife wound is still in Johanna's ribs. But she thinks, more or less, that is why Johanna is there, beside her, fending off the soldiers. To Johanna, it was Johanna's rebel affiliations that got them thrown in that dungeon, Johanna's fault, albeit indirectly, that she was raped and assaulted by those men, even though Enobaria had never heard a rebel plot in her life. Never mind the fact that no matter where Enobaria had been at the end of those Games, she probably would have ended up in that prison. Yes, she'd had plenty of time to consider the what-ifs over the past weeks, or however long it had been, and it felt like all signs lead to death or capture.
And still, despite their animosity at the end of the Games, Johanna would make a scene, or conveniently remember something, or find some other way to get the guards' attention, just when they were getting a little too interested in Annie or Enobaria. She noticed that much. So now Johanna slept, and Enobaria let her, eyes on her chest just to make sure it kept rising and falling.
"Where are we going?" Enobaria asks Hawthorne.
"District 13," he says.
"There is no District 13."
"It's secret," he says. "It's underground. District 13 is the rebel base."
She doesn't know what to make of this. Either he's lying, and they're taking her somewhere else, or he's telling her the truth, and one of the fundamental truths about Panem is a lie. "You're lying." She doesn't know why she chooses this option, because it would mean they're going somewhere potentially unsafe, but she doesn't like the things she knows, the truths she has lives her entire life understanding to be ripped up. The foundation was set a long time ago, in the Career Academy. To disrupt it now is to unset every subsequent notion she has about life in Panem.
"I'm not," he says. "I didn't believe it either. I'm from 12, and I thought 13 was gone, wiped off the map. But you'll see when we get there."
She recognizes him now, maybe, just a whisper. He's the cousin of the Mockingjay. They had put him on the television for interviews during the 74th Games. He looks older now, his face lined with stubble, and he looks more haggard, like maybe the war has come to District 12. She doesn't know - she doesn't know if there even is a 'war' to speak of - there was no news inside the prison, and so she doesn't know anything about what's happened after the Quarter Quell.
They land, after hours and hours of flying, and they do seem to be going underground, somehow. She didn't think he was lying, not really, but she didn't know how to accept that this is true. District 13 had been there, the whole time? They had just allowed Snow's rule to continue? They had just hidden underground, away from everyone? She has so many questions, but she's so tired and thirsty and now that it's time to get off the hovercraft, she's frightened again.
It's Annie who springs to her feet, wide-eyed despite her obvious exhaustion. "Finnick?" she calls, as if he might be waiting just beyond the doors. "Is Finnick here?"
Enobaria shakes Johanna awake, but she barely stirs. "Mm?"
"We're here, it's time to get off."
Johanna tries to sit up but barely moves, and it seems her body has given up. Enobaria figures there's medics here, if this really is a working District, so they can just wait for help. Hawthorne comes back around, noticing that they haven't moved. "I'll get some help," he says. "I was surprised she was walking earlier, we had to carry her out of the prison."
Enobaria looks at Johanna, still half-dozing beside her. She had walked - Enobaria had seen it - to sit beside her, even though she couldn't walk to leave the prison on her own. If it's guilt, Enobaria wants to reassure her, to tell her that it's alright. It's not Johanna's fault the guards were such cretins. But all she can do is sit with her, follow her as they use some sort of stretcher to take Johanna to the infirmary. They have one for Enobaria as well, but she refuses - she can walk and talk just fine - but they see her stumble a bit on the stairs and push her into a wheelchair without listening to any more protests.
The infirmary is a blur of bodies and movement. She is given a bag of intravenous fluids, and a pitcher with a straw to sip on as well. There's something else hung - vitamins, maybe, or antibiotics, and it all drips slowly into her veins. She gets a new set of clothes, but they insist on doing an exam while she's changing, drawing the curtains and inspecting her for injuries and other maladies. She wants a shower, desperately, and is promised one once the IV is finished, once she is rehydrated enough that she's not liable to pass out in a room of hard tiles. She can't protest this, much.
The Healer looking her over sees the blood and bruises at her thighs and understands at once. "Filthy, filthy men," she curses. She leans in close, conspiratorially. "Not one of ours, I hope?"
The idea that this woman would even think to ask makes Enobaria trust her a bit more. She shakes her head. "Last time was two days ago, by my guess." Time was hard to tell, in that place. "They turned off my spigot after."
"Bastards." She clucks, handing Enobaria the new pajamas to put on, a set with a top and pants, not just a gown. "I'll come by as soon as the IV is done and you can shower."
She keeps her promise, and Enobaria is able to wash the filth of the prison off of herself. The District 13 shower is austere compared to the showers of the Capitol - there is only one dial that goes from hot to cold, one bottle of shampoo and one of soap, and the whole operation is timed for 6 minutes. Enobaria takes two in a row. She feels like she could use 4, but she's from District 2, she knows how to be efficient, and avoid waste, even in times of personal stress. She puts on another new set of hospital pajamas and goes back to the main room of the infirmary. It's night now, and the lights are down, so she pads in quietly.
Katniss is there, now, though Enobaria doesn't know why. She's laying closest to the door, her neck stiff in a brace. Enobaria's bed is beside her, and then there's Annie Cresta, whispering quietly with Finnick, who's sitting in the chair between her bed and Annie's. Johanna is in the bed against the wall, turned away, a morphling drip in her arm.
She knew Finnick had a 'real' girlfriend, of course. In fact she had watched him Mentor Annie through her Games. But she had seen 'Finnick and Johanna' for so many years in the Capitol that this current scene feels wrong, even though logically she knows Johanna was the other woman. She had heard Annie call for Finnick daily in that prison. Johanna never said his name once. Enobaria gets back into bed, but she isn't sure how she is supposed to sleep. It's a Victor party in here, with 4 Victors laying in the beds, and a 5th coming to visit.
And then Haymitch makes it 6, she sees, as he ducks into the infirmary with that awkward way of his, nods a small greeting at her, and takes the chair on the other side of her bed, the one next to Katniss. She wants to scream at him to mind Johanna, to at least greet her. She doesn't know much about the rebel plans, but she knows that whatever bullshit Johanna was doing with Katniss and the wire and baiting her into a fight at the end of the Games was almost certainly a rebel plot she was performing under Haymitch's instruction. And now that she's been captured and tortured, he can't even look at her.
She feels herself getting more and more angry, so she takes her blanket and moves to the chair beside Johanna. She thought that maybe Johanna wouldn't realize Haymitch was here, turned away as she was, but he's more than obvious as he speaks to Katniss in a low voice. And she can see Johanna moving, quiet sobs under the blankets, and she wonders what it is that pushed her over the edge: the loneliness, the pain, or the absolute lack of acknowledgement.
Enobaria leans over so she can speak right to Johanna's ear. "Mind if I stay here?" she asks. It's fine to just sit in the chair, she realizes, because being between Haymitch and Finnick was unbearable.
"The curtain." Johanna's voice is hoarse, but the answer is clear. Close the curtain, so we have a modicum of privacy. Enobaria does as she's told and comes back and sits, but Johanna has turned on her back, and tugs on her arm, an invitation to lie beside her on the cot. It's small: they barely fit side by side, but it's alright. She doesn't mind a reminder that she, too, has someone she can rely on, even if it's not an ally she would have imagined.
"I'm sorry," Johanna says, turning to face Enobaria. Her head is resting against Enobaria's shoulder, and Enobaria realizes that she, too, has had a shower, or cleaned the filth of that prison of her somehow since they've arrived. She smells like shampoo and the District 13 laundry.
"You don't have to be sorry."
"I'm sorry." She says it firmly, her body shaking with the same ferocity that Enobaria felt when she first approached. Had she been crying for herself? Or for Enobaria?
"I accept your apology."
And somehow, for the first time since before the Quarter Quell, she manages to sleep fairly well. Johanna jumps and twitches in the night, and twice she wakes startled that she was back in the prison, that the weight against her was a guard coming for her, but as soon as she remembers she was in the infirmary in District 13, she is able to settle back into a comfortable sleep.
The next morning, they rearrange the cots, and she is able to spend her days in recovery laying beside Johanna. It's hard to comprehend District 13 - that the place is real at all - and she gets her bearings slowly, coming to understand what's happened since the end of the Games through television and radio and talking with the others. But mostly she keeps to herself, content, for once, to stay away, to not be in the room where it happens, but rather to be in the corner of the infirmary with Johanna, trying to get her strength back one meal tray at a time, and to avoid talking too much with Finnick or any of the others.