Katniss Everdeen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
burn_with_us) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
all_inclusive2015-03-07 08:15 pm
burn_with_us) wrote in all_inclusive2015-03-07 08:15 pm
Entry tags:
faster than my bullet
Katniss never goes into the door that leads back to the Arena except, apparently, this time she did without even realizing it. She knows the tricks of it now, though, and she survives - but it doesn't make it any less hard to know that Peeta and Johanna are suffering because of her. Because of her and her stupid berries and her stupid wedding gown and her stupid desire to thumb her nose at Snow and the Capitol whenever she gets a chance.
Katniss isn't the face of a revolution. She just gets people killed.
So now she's been in 13 for what feels like an eternity, blithely getting a schedule printed on her arm every morning and ignoring it just so she can go sit in a closet and hide for hours and hours until someone notices she's missing. It's not the best system, but it's one that works for her, and she hopes that someday she'll be able to get the sound of Peeta's voice and the smell of his skin out of her head. She thinks about being in the hotel, too, and wonders if that's just something she dreamed up when she was pumped full of drugs after being rescued.
She hopes not.
They want her to be the face of this thing, the symbol that inspires everyone to fight. Katniss thinks that Finnick would be better at it, or Beetee, or anyone but her. Everything she touches dies, more or less, except those goddamned roses of Snow's. She doesn't want to be responsible for the rebellion dying too and she thinks they need someone less damaged than she is to lead them. Much less damaged. She's not a Victor anymore. She's just a survivor.
So instead of facing her fears and doing what's asked of her, Katniss flees to the closet again. She'll nestle up next to boxes of graphite pencils and cleaning supplies and try to ignore the screaming in her head for a little while in hopes that one day it'll actually all go quiet.
She sits with her back toward the wall and closes her eyes and gains her bearing again. In and out. In and out. Eventually, she feels like she might be able to stand on two legs and gets to her feet, shaky but only a little worse for the wear. She tugs open the door and when she sees the carpets instead of the utilitarian concrete of 13, she crumples up on the carpet and just weeps.
She's back.
Katniss isn't the face of a revolution. She just gets people killed.
So now she's been in 13 for what feels like an eternity, blithely getting a schedule printed on her arm every morning and ignoring it just so she can go sit in a closet and hide for hours and hours until someone notices she's missing. It's not the best system, but it's one that works for her, and she hopes that someday she'll be able to get the sound of Peeta's voice and the smell of his skin out of her head. She thinks about being in the hotel, too, and wonders if that's just something she dreamed up when she was pumped full of drugs after being rescued.
She hopes not.
They want her to be the face of this thing, the symbol that inspires everyone to fight. Katniss thinks that Finnick would be better at it, or Beetee, or anyone but her. Everything she touches dies, more or less, except those goddamned roses of Snow's. She doesn't want to be responsible for the rebellion dying too and she thinks they need someone less damaged than she is to lead them. Much less damaged. She's not a Victor anymore. She's just a survivor.
So instead of facing her fears and doing what's asked of her, Katniss flees to the closet again. She'll nestle up next to boxes of graphite pencils and cleaning supplies and try to ignore the screaming in her head for a little while in hopes that one day it'll actually all go quiet.
She sits with her back toward the wall and closes her eyes and gains her bearing again. In and out. In and out. Eventually, she feels like she might be able to stand on two legs and gets to her feet, shaky but only a little worse for the wear. She tugs open the door and when she sees the carpets instead of the utilitarian concrete of 13, she crumples up on the carpet and just weeps.
She's back.
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Annie surged forward without thought, the flimsy fabric of her skirt bunching at her knees as she fell into a crouch, a tentative hand reaching out to light upon Katniss' shaking shoulder. Her hair had grown long and wild, and she pushed it hastily back as she tilted forward, green eyes wide with concern.
"Come with me," she said, low and swift, and gave Katniss a gentle tug on the arm. Regardless of the cause, she felt certain Katniss would not want strangers to see her this way.
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Katniss doesn't really ever want to be touched when she's like this but she thinks if anyone knows and understands how it feels to be a prisoner of their own mind, it's probably Annie. She lets Annie tug her up and follows, scrambling to get out of the public eye.
"I was in 13. I was stuck in 13."
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There were a bevy of implications to go with a statement like that, but clarification would have to wait. Desperate simply for some privacy, Annie reached for the first door they came across and took care to lock it behind them. The room was small and homey with a neatly-arranged living area instead of the typical bedroom, and she pointed Katniss to sit down as she ducked into the bathroom to fill a glass with water.
"When?" she quietly asked as she pressed the glass into Katniss' hand a moment later, her wide eyes searching. Her own time in 13 had been some of the best of her life, but that had been owing entirely to Finnick, and it had never escaped her how easily the restrictions in 13 could be compared with those enforced by the Capitol.
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"You're still in the Capitol. You and Johanna and the others." Katniss doesn't mention Peeta because it's too raw and painful to think about what's happening to him back in the Capitol while she's safe in 13. It's too much.
"I...I was with Finnick. I was with Finnick and Beetee in 13."
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Even with all the time passed since Annie first arrived in 13, she could remember all too clearly how the Finnick she'd reunited with had been someone very different from the man she'd last seen before the Quell. Thin and restless, it was as if he'd finally started showing on the outside everything that had so long torn him apart inside. It would have been more startling had she not been just as poorly off.
"What happened?" Annie quietly asked, sitting beside Katniss but taking care to give her plenty of space.
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Katniss doesn't like admitting a weakness like this but if she's going to admit to one, she thinks Annie is a safe person to admit it to. Annie's a Victor too and she's been affected just as strongly by the Capitol and the Games as anyone.
"I used to go into the storage closet in 13 when I got like that and when I came back out, I was back here."
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And how odd now, to be the sort of person who can offer a shoulder to another Victor. She never would have expected that.
"I'm glad you got back here," she added with a faint smile that quickly fell again. "13 wasn't the place they said it was."
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"No, it's not...it's not exactly what I wanted it to be," Katniss agrees. She doesn't know what she thought 13 might be but the 13 she experienced wasn't anywhere she'd want to stay for a long period of time.
"I was glad to come back here. I want to be here with you and Finnick and Johanna." And Peeta too, she thinks, though her memories of Peeta being trapped in the Capitol are a little too raw at the moment.
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She would not tell her about Prim, nor Finnick, nor any of the others. She would not tell her about Coin, nor what Annie believed was the cruel choice made when their rag-tag group of remaining Victors had been brought back together at the end of it all.
But still Katniss needed to know: That way led to madness.
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The way Annie says it is firm and resolute and Katniss thinks that she ought to take her advice, even if she doesn't exactly know why. It's enough for her, anyway; Annie is someone that she trusts.
"Yeah, not planning on any purposeful trips to 13. I think I'm going to leave doors alone for a little while and just stick around here. It's usually pretty safe and boring in the hotel and I can do with a little safe and boring if it means I'm not fighting for my life against Snow again."
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After the time she and Finnick found themselves in the arena for the Quell, she'd developed the habit of pausing a moment after stepping one foot over any threshold, just in case she needed to backtrack. It might have looked strange, but so far it had worked.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked, curious and birdlike where she perched on the edge of her seat. "I know you can take care of yourself, but I'm happy to go grab you something to eat or something if you don't want to see anyone."
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"It's...calm. I like knowing there's someplace safe that isn't a closet, you know? I like closets but the dark makes it hard to do anything else. At least I can see my hand in front of my face here."
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"That would be convenient," Katniss jokes. She doesn't really feel very lighthearted right now but she guesses if she fakes it until it feels real, maybe it'll eventually feel real.
She presses her fingers against the upholstery, letting the weft of the fabric ground her for a moment. It's always like this until it passes and right now the anxiety is still hovering close. She's got it together but only just.
"Not much about our lives is convenient, though."