Work Text:
"I love you."
Annie says the words softly, but clearly, her voice melodic to Johanna's ears. It's very early morning, the dawning light just peeking in through the windows, lighting them in blue-gray. They are both just waking, tangled a bit in the bedsheets. It's nearly time for Tristan to go to school.
Johanna's eyes snap to Annie's at the words. Annie just looks back. She's always had such wide-set green eyes. Some people say that she has a perpetually alarmed look about her, but Johanna's never been able to see it. She's always just thought that Annie was beautiful — all dark, tangled hair, pale skin, and those wide, wide eyes.
Johanna feels trapped in her gaze now. She should say something. "I love you" is a statement that demands an answer. But she just stares … and stares and stares. Like a deer caught in headlights. Her heart is thumping so quickly that she is sure that Annie must be able to hear it.
After the silence has gone on for far too long, Annie just rolls over and sits up.
"It's time for me to wake Tristan," she says, brusquely. Johanna searches her voice for some sign of anger or sadness, but Annie just sounds a bit weary. She leaves the bedroom, carefully avoiding Johanna's gaze.
Johanna buries her face in her pillow. Fuck. She's really fucked this up.
They've been living together for a couple of years now. Really, it's surprising that the "I love you" conversation hasn't come up yet. Johanna had begun to think that maybe it never would come up. It wasn't something that she could see herself ever broaching, no matter how intense her feelings. And she'd begun to think that maybe Annie couldn't bring it up either — that she thought of Finnick as the love of her life and that no one else could ever claim that title. And Johanna had been fine with that. They were comfortable together. There was no need for big declarations.
But now — now Annie has said these words that demand an answer and Johanna had just froze.
Johanna lies abed, listening to the sounds of Annie and Tristan puttering about in the kitchen, watching idly as the room grows lighter and lighter.
"Aunt Jo!" Tristan's voice calls through the bedroom door. "Wake up! Mommy made pancakes!"
Johanna sighs.
"Be right there, Tris!" she calls out, knowing that the kid will be dragging her out of bed if she doesn't reply.
"'Kay," Tristan says and Johanna hears his little feet pattering away from the door.
Johanna rolls out of bed and puts on her house shoes. She finds her robe draped over a chair and slips it on over the shorts and tee shirt that she'd slept in. She goes into the kitchen to find Annie flipping flapjacks and Tristan pouring way too many chocolate chips onto his plate.
"Pace yourself there, kiddo," Johanna says.
Annie's eyes snap up. She's changed out of the nightgown that she'd been wearing and into the sort of clothes that she wears when she walks Tristan to school — a long, casual skirt and a hoodie.
"Tristan!" Annie scolds. "That's way too much sugar for you! I don't want your teacher calling me, saying that you're bouncing off the walls."
Tristan had started kindergarten earlier in the year. He does relatively well in all his subjects and he has lots of friends, but his teacher says that he sometimes has a little too much energy. Johanna doesn't see why this is a bad thing, but it's not her place to tell off Tristan's teacher.
"It'll be fine, Mom," Tristan says, shoveling bites of pancakes into his mouth. "I'll be good at school."
Annie sighs. She puts two pancakes onto a plate and sets it down in front Johanna. She still avoids Johanna's eyes, the awkwardness between them remaining, unable to be addressed because of Tristan's presence.
"Remember that Aunt Jo has to have the real maple syrup, Mom," Tristan says.
They think that this is a peculiar quirk of Johanna's. Apparently, people who aren't from District 7 regard real maple syrup as some sort of luxury — and an unobtainable luxury for district people before the war. In District 7, it hadn't been an expensive thing to get if you just traded for it or bought it on the black market.
Annie sets the syrup bottle down on the table next to Johanna.
"I haven't forgotten," she tells Tristan with a slight smile.
"Um. Thanks," Johanna says. Annie meets her eyes for a moment before looking away.
The three of them eat their breakfasts relatively quickly, Tristan's chattering covering for the lack of conversation between the two women. He manages to only get a minimal amount of syrup and chocolate onto his face which Annie wipes away with wet washcloth. Johanna watches as he stuffs his homework into his backpack in a haphazard way. The kid has a certain chaotic energy about him.
"I'm taking him," Annie says to Johanna as she slips on her sandals. "I'll be back in about an hour."
"Sure," Johanna says, staring at her empty plate. She's not exactly looking forward to the conversation that they'll have then. "Have a good day in school, Tristan."
"Bye, Aunt Jo," he says, all set on running out the door. Annie stops him and takes his hand and Tristan sighs. He thinks that handholding is for "babies." But he brightens after only a second or two and starts talking to Annie about some school project that he's supposed to work on today. He's so … happy. A lot of the kids are like that, such a contrast to the adults who often seem sad and weary as a result of the war … or of living under the oppressive society that had preceded the war.
Johanna does the dishes and then decides to go outside. She hates sitting inside all day and she thinks that maybe she can clear her head better outdoors. She changes into heavy trousers, a short-sleeved shirt, and her boots. Annie always teases her about wearing boots with heavy treads even though they live at the beach, but Johanna always feels a bit barefoot without them.
It's a nice morning. Annie would probably consider it cold, but Johanna can't say that she agrees. Johanna walks along the beach, ignoring the few other people, some of whom give her odd looks. Johanna isn't sure if this is because they recognize her or if she's making her bad mood obvious in her demeanor. Annie says that Johanna has the tendency to stomp about when something is upsetting her.
She doesn't walk more than a few minutes before turning back toward the little blue cottage that she shares with Annie and Tristan. She notes that Annie hasn't come home yet. She heads out behind the house, picking up her throwing axe on the way. She amuses herself by throwing it into a piece of driftwood that she's been practicing on. She throws the axe again and again.
Johanna thinks about Tristan a bit. How the kid somehow always reminds her of both his parents. Even in looks. He has Annie's dark curls and wide-set eyes with Finnick's full mouth and bronze skin. He has Finnick's smile for sure.
The axe hits the driftwood again. It's just splinters by now. That's the problem with District 4. Not enough trees around to practice on. Johanna retrieves her axe.
What right does she have to live the life that Finnick should have had?
Johanna sighs at thought. Finnick had never even known that Annie was pregnant, but Johanna knows that he would have been a great father. Everyone who knew Finnick would say as much. Tristan may be a happy kid, but he misses so much from never having known Finnick.
Johanna takes the axe over to a shed and decides that she's been meaning to tear down this shed anyway. She spends the next few minutes happily throwing her axe into the side of it, watching as her axe makes deep gashes in old wood. Johanna decides that she's good at tearing things down. She manages to take down a few of the boards when an axe goes whizzing past her head and imbeds itself beside the one that Johanna had thrown seconds earlier.
She whips around and finds Annie standing a few steps back with an amused expression on her face.
"What did our shed ever do to you?" Annie asks, raising an eyebrow. She holds another axe in her hand. She must have gotten them from the house. Johanna always manages to forget that Annie was a Career and knows how to use almost any weapon. She can probably throw an axe almost as well as Johanna herself.
Johanna manages a shrug. "It needed to come down."
"I see," Annie says, giving her a skeptical look. "Well, if you say so."
The third axe flies from her hand and manages to take out a board.
"Hey, watch my head!" Johanna says.
"I'm not going to give you an axe to the head," Annie says, rolling her eyes.
"Well. If you say so," Johanna says.
They spend the next several minutes throwing axes together. It's almost … fun. She should get Annie to do this more often. Maybe while Tristan is in school. Five-year-olds and wild bouts of axe-throwing don't mix particularly well.
"I'm sorry," Johanna says when they are both clearly winded and there's not much left of the shed. "For this morning."
Annie looks at her intently, but then just rolls her eyes.
"You don't have to say it, Johanna. I'm a big girl."
"It's not — I'm happy with the way things are. I'm happy with you. I just — it's not easy for me. To say something like that."
"Okay," Annie says, looking away.
"The last time I said 'I love you' to a girl, Snow had her killed," Johanna blurts out.
Because this is what is really stopping her. Not anything to do with Finnick or Tristan or even with Annie. It's all to do with Johanna and her baggage. Not having anyone she cared about had protected Johanna from the worst parts of being a victor for so long. She'd worn it almost proudly, like armor.
Annie looks at Johanna with those wide eyes, her mouth forming a little "o" in surprise. After a moment, she straightens and seems to regain her composure.
"I see," she says, slowly. "Snow is … dead now."
Johanna rolls her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, Snow is dead and he can't hurt me anymore. Don't start talking like my therapist, okay?"
Annie winces. Neither of them are particularly fond of therapists, although they both have one.
"I didn't mean to upset you," Annie says. "With what I said this morning. I wasn't thinking."
Johanna kicks at the ground in frustration. "No, no, don't apologize. I'm the one who is being a jerk here."
"You're not," Annie says. "I would want you to say that you loved me unless you were enthusiastic about it."
"I'll be able to say it someday," Johanna says, looking at her boots. "Just … not yet."
Annie steps close to Johanna and cups Johanna's cheek with her hand. She gives Johanna a brief kiss and then wraps her arms around Johanna. They stand like this for several minutes, Johanna taking in the warm comfort.
"Okay," Annie says, giving Johanna a kiss.
They wander back to the house, their hands locked together.