CHAPTER 34
DISTRICT THIRTEEN

THE world felt completely still when Bex opened her eyes.

She was hit with a ringing in her ears first. Then her eyes blinked, attempting to adjust to the dark orange lighting of the room. Pinned to the walls were x-rays of a spine. It looked cracked, slightly disfigured. Not horrifically deformed, but enough to be worried about. A few machines beeped around her, and an IV was connected to her right arm. Bex suspected it to be morphling. Maybe that's why she was so calm right now.

Everything felt stiff. Her back was completely straight, kept aligned with a thick brace attached to her torso. Bex swallowed hard and tried to move around, but it was difficult. She remembered the cracking sound then. When her spine had hit the tree in the arena. It was deafening, blaring in her eardrums. And then, everything went dark. How long had it been since the arena?

The arena. The Games.

A voice rang in her ears: Remember who the real enemy is.

Bex scanned the room once more. Where was she?

When her eyes landed on her bedside table, she couldn't help but ogle her mother's wedding ring sitting on the steel tray. The band was crusted with dirt. Beside it was the tracker placed in her arm before she had entered the arena. Bex slowly lifted her arm, using all the strength in her body to grab the tracker, but it was no use. The arm fell limp at her side, so she craned her neck more to look at it. The tracker was bloody and looked like it had been ripped from her skin. It was no longer active.

If she wasn't in the arena, where could she be? This had to be a hospital, but where? In the Capitol? Bex pursed her lips at the possibility that she might've won the Quell. She couldn't have, though. The lightning knocked them all out –

Panic surged through her. The morphling was useless against her overwhelming anxiety. Bex peered over at the left wall and spotted an emergency button: PRESS FOR EMERGENCIES ONLY. A NURSE WILL ASSIST YOU. She debated on pushing it, but she highly doubted a nurse would come in. It could be a trick. An enemy could come in, like Enobaria or Brutus. They could come in and stab her, just as they should've done in the arena.

But she needed answers. Maybe it was worth the risk.

Bex huffed, a groan spilling from her clenched teeth, as she tried reaching for the button.

The door swung open. Bex stopped in place, and then resumed her normal laying position.

"Thought I saw some movement in here," Johanna tsked, walking more into her room. The door sealed itself shut behind her.

Bex almost couldn't believe it. She looked at Johanna as if she were a ghost. The younger Victor's hair was cropped even shorter than before. It was more like a buzzcut now, and her brows were bushier than usual. She was wearing a grey jumpsuit with a white apron, looking like some character from one of those Capitol TV soap operas. Bex tried saying her name, but it came out more like a croak: "Johanna –"

"You have to lay back, Bex. Your spine won't heal more if you don't rest." Johanna shoved her back against the fluffy pillows, and Bex winced. The younger girl simply shook her head and placed her hands on her hips. "They have me monitoring all the cameras in the hospital rooms. It's kinda boring if you ask me."

Bex stretched out her hand and gripped Johanna's wrist tightly. "Where are we?" She demanded. Her voice was hoarse from not talking in days, maybe even weeks. She wasn't sure.

Johanna yanked her arm away, struggling to pull out of Bex's grip. For someone so injured, she still had a strong grasp. "Ow, ow! What's wrong with you?! Let me –"

"Tell me where we are, Johanna." She demanded, teeth gritted. "Now."

"District Thirteen, alright?" Johanna pulled again. "Let go."

Bex's hand went numb as she released Johanna. Her eyes flickered away, and Johanna began rubbing at the spot where Bex had gripped her, a smug expression on her face. "District Thirteen was destroyed years ago," Bex said, voice sounding so far away. "It's nuclear and uninhabitable."

"Or so they say," Johanna smirked, sitting down on Bex's cot. The other Victor turned to her once again, brows pulled together. "I guess this was their ploy all along. Plutarch planned this the second the Quell was announced, but left it very ambiguous. I only knew once he came to me during the Games, telling me he was going to get you and the others out."

Bex pursed her lips.

"Everything has been orchestrated by him. He was Head Gamemaker, so he executed his plan into the Games," she explained. "Beetee's wire was planted at the Cornucopia specifically to blow up the forcefield, so they could rescue you all. And his sponsor gift of rolls signified what day and hour Plutarch was coming. Beetee is from District Three ... Day Three. Twenty-four rolls ... midnight."

Bex rubbed at her temples the best she could, but it was still difficult to move. "I was dehydrated and starving for two days. Not to mention, hallucinating. How did you think I was going to come up with that?"

Johanna shrugged. "Maybe I gave you too much credit." She looked down at Bex's bruised knuckles and a shiver ran through her. "Not many people knew the full scope of the plan anyway. Finnick knew that you guys were going to get out, but he didn't know when. He was willing to sacrifice himself to at least get you out. Beetee knew something would happen at the start of Day Three. It's been incredibly secretive for a good reason."

Looking off, Bex received flashes of that final day in the arena. They danced across her vision, creating a kaleidoscope of memories. She remembered the way Finnick had been distant after their kiss, how he hadn't looked back at her when he left the lightning tree. He had been hoping they were going to be rescued soon. And if not, he was prepared to die for her. He withdrew from her, hoping that if he did pass, she wouldn't mourn him. But Bex – poor, dehydrated Bex – had let her paranoia consume her. She suddenly felt like an idiot, but nothing could be done now. That's what the arena did to tributes. It allowed their anxiety and killer instincts to manifest into complete destruction. It turned them against each other.

She glanced at what she could only presume were her own x-rays, and she cringed, before turning back to Johanna. "And this plan ... was all to protect Katniss?"

"To protect the Mockingjay," Johanna corrected. "So they could house us in District Thirteen and let the rebellion take charge. We're underground. No one can hurt us."

"Who's us?"

"Whoever they could save," Johanna said, averting her stare. "But not everyone."

Finnick. The name shot through her system, creating a swell of panic in her gut. Bex considered reaching over and gripping her wrist again, demanding to know Finnick's whereabouts, but Johanna started rolling her eyes as if she had read her thoughts.

"Finnick is here. They managed to get him and Katniss and Beetee out of the arena." She swallowed hard. "But not everyone else."

What about Peeta and the Careers? Had they just been abandoned? Bex opened her mouth to voice these concerns, but Johanna was already talking over her, a grim expression on her face. She still didn't look in Bex's direction.

"They took people – the Capitol. People we care about." She bit the inside of her cheek. "And then sent bombers to some of the Districts. Seven is destroyed. So is Three, Eight, Eleven, and especially, Twelve."

Bex's eyes narrowed. "Johanna," she called, "look at me."

The other girl didn't move an inch.

With gritted teeth, Bex demanded, "Johanna, look at me. Look at me and tell me who they took."

Johanna released a long sigh and finally met her gaze. She stared at the way Bex was sitting. The back brace was so thick that it made her body teeter to the side, just the tiniest bit. Slowly, Johanna's dark stare was burning into hers, and Bex was fighting the urge to cry.

She hadn't even said anything, but Bex had a feeling of what she was going to say.

"The Capitol has your brother, Bex," she replied softly, before her voice began to speed up with nerves. "They also have Peeta and Enobaria. I heard they killed your friend, Angelo, too. I'm sorry. I didn't want to have to be the one to tell you this."

Her teeth were digging into her bottom lip. Bex wasn't sure if she drew blood. She was suddenly too distracted by the stinging in her eyes. Tears began to gather in the corners. In that moment, she almost forgot to breathe.

Johanna continued quickly, "I hoped Plutarch would tell you. He seems more level-headed than me. Nico would know how to say it better too. I miss him. I know he had to sacrifice himself, but I still –"

"Johanna," Bex said. Her tone was getting more agitated and loud as the seconds ticked on. "Is Keaton alive?"

She paused, licking her lips. "I don't know. Plutarch doesn't think Snow would have him killed. You're valuable to Snow. The Capitol people love you and don't want to believe you're part of a rebellion. Maybe he wants to use your brother as leverage to get you to come to his side."

"But we need to get him back."

"Not right now." Johanna's brow narrowed. "Definitely, not right now."

"Yes, right now." Bex looked at her like the answer was obvious. "They've taken the only family I have left, Johanna. Do you get that? You of all people know what it's like to lose your family. Don't let me lose mine."

The younger Victor scowled. "Low blow, Bex." She got to her feet and headed for the door.

Bex reached out. "No, no, Johanna –" She made an effort to sit up more, growing disheartened as Johanna got closer to the exit. "Johanna, wait, please –"

She ripped out her IV and slid off the side of the cot, starting to waddle over to the door. The back brace made it harder to walk, too, and her body felt heavier with it on. But she still chased after Johanna, desperate for her help. As she reached the door, it had already shut in her face. Bex looked through the small window. Johanna was staring back at her, worry filling her eyes. She could hear a lock click in place.

"No –" She slapped her had against the glass. "No, Johanna! Please, don't lock me in here!"

Johanna swallowed down the bile rising in her throat. She lifted her hand from the lock.

Bex continued banging her hands against the glass. Her begging was muffled by the window.

"You need to calm down, Bex," she spoke calmly, rationally, despite her finger twitching.

But that made her even angrier.

Bex pounded on the door, face twisting with fury. "NO!"

"It's for your own good." Johanna took a few steps back. "I'll be watching you through the cameras."

Bex didn't stop slamming her hand against the glass. It was smudged with her handprint by this point. Tears were streaming down her face – tears she simply couldn't hold in anymore – and they stained the window as she pressed her face into it. She needed to be let out immediately. She wouldn't let anyone stop her from getting to her brother. This door was no match for her rage.

"No, Johanna, I'm sorry," she pleaded. Her breath was now fogging the glass. "I didn't mean it. Let me out. I'll make it up to you."

But when she blinked her doe eyes, Bex realized Johanna was too far to hear her.

Fury boiled underneath her skin and she couldn't hold it back any longer.

Her hands formed into fists and she beat them against the door, just hard enough for there to be a sound. She choked on a sob as nurses continued to walk by her room, paying her no attention. Her voice came out as an animalistic wail when she exclaimed, "LET ME OUT! LET ME GO TO THE CAPITOL RIGHT NOW!"

Bex leaned her forehead on the window. Her tears ran down the glass like a storm.

"I just want my brother back," she cried. "Someone get him back. Let me out of here. Let me go to the Capitol and slaughter them all. He doesn't deserve this. I do. This is all my fault." Another slam of her fists. "I will kill them!" A nurse passing by finally glanced in her direction, and she used the slim chance she got. "Do you hear me?! I'll kill them all in the Capitol! Every last Peacekeeper. Every last Gamemaker. Snow. I'll do it all just to get Keaton."

The nurse couldn't pull her eyes away.

Bex shrieked, "LET ME OUT!"

She rammed her fist into the door so hard that she doubled back on the ground. She shouted a series of expletives as she landed on her side. Thankfully, the weight of her back brace helped her to not land on her healing spine, but that didn't make her hand hurt any less. More tears began to dry on her cheeks. Her dirty, dark hair was splayed out on the floor as she curled herself into a ball, holding her hand to her chest.

Finally, the lock clicked again. Bex looked up and rubbed at her runny nose.

The nurse from outside – her name badge called her, Maryam – opened the door and peered down at Bex. "Oh, dear," she huffed, frown lines tightening at the sight of her.

Bex set her head back down on the floor once again. The surface was cool and made the pulse in her temples feel better. Carefully, Maryam walked over and hauled her up from underneath her armpits. She then dragged Bex over and helped her back on her bed, placing the IV back in her arm. As soon as the morphling flooded her body, everything started to feel better.

Maryam lifted her hand and inspected it. Bex hissed in pain as she pressed down on her fingers. "Your hand is slightly broken," she sighed.

Bex lifted her head. Before she could scrutinize, Maryam was already pushing against her knuckles, lining the bones back in place. Bex screeched and immediately bit down on her other hand to hide it. It only took a few seconds, but the pain remained and it was immense.

Maryam laid her hand back down. "Let me go get some ice and a splint."

When she left the room, she locked it again, and all Bex's hope vanished. She looked back down at her hand as it started to swell up. Her bronze skin was now tinged with a blushing pink.

Maryam returned with a small, blue bag of ice. She pressed it onto Bex's hand and timed herself with the watch on her hand. "You should never do that again," she chastised, eyeing the clock. "The steel on these doors could've done much more damage. It's shockproof."

Bex rubbed the tears away from her eyes and sniffled, sucking it all back in. She felt so embarrassed, but she didn't regret it. She needed everyone to know that she was angry, that she was desperate for revenge. It made her all that more lethal.

They sat together, waiting patiently for the swelling to go down. Maryam plopped down on a seat next to her cot for almost a full hour. Bex laid back silently and studied the lines crinkling at the edge of her eyes. She looked overtired. Bex wondered how long her shift had been, and then questioned why she stayed when she could've just ended her shift. Maybe she didn't trust her enough to not get up again, or keep the ice pack on for a while.

"Okay," Maryam finally said, lifting the ice pack. Bex looked down. Her hand was still red, but a lot less swelled. "Move your fingers."

She did as told. Her eyes winced slightly at the pain, but it was bearable.

"Do this regularly to stop them from stiffening." Maryam reached for the splint and opened it. She looked over at Bex and noticed her rubbing at her eyes again. "It's okay. The pain goes away after a while."

Bex huffed again as the splint was wrapped around her hand and wrist. She moved her fingers and felt a sharp pain at the tips. "It's not that," she whispered through clenched teeth. "I just want to be out of here. My brother was taken."

Maryam furrowed her brow. There was a glint of resentment in her stare. "The Capitol has taken something from each and every one of us. You're not the only one who's lost here."

Bex blinked, not knowing what to say. There was nothing to say, because Maryam was right.

And then, Maryam's eyes softened. She placed Bex's wrapped hand on the cot and patted her leg. "Get some rest."

She didn't get too far before Bex was clutching her hand, tugging on it as politely as she could. "Can I see Finnick Odair?"

"You and every other woman here," she chuckled, slipping out of her hold. "Sleep now. You can see him soon, okay?"

Bex rolled her eyes at Maryam's attitude. She thought Bex to be one of Finnick's adoring fans, the kind that waited outside his hotel just for a kiss on the cheek. As Maryam locked the door behind her, Bex laid back and contemplated if that's who she really was. I mean, their relationship had been fake at first, who's to say he still wasn't acting in the arena? And now she was left with feeling something so real, enough to turn her into one of his admirers. She shuddered at the thought.

She continued doing that for an hour: overthinking every single move she made in the arena. Her eyes were glued to the lights on the walls, but her mind was somewhere else. She remembered all the lives she took, the adrenaline she felt each time her axe split through someone's throat. She wanted to feel that alive again. Right now, she felt dead. As dead as the people she crushed with her own hands in that jungle. If she looked down at her hands, she was sure she'd still find blood underneath her nails. She didn't dare take the chance. Fear wrapped around her like a warm blanket.

Eventually, she found sleep. But not for long. Bex wasn't sure how long it lasted, or how long she'd been screaming, but she woke up from a nightmare. It had been of her in the water, diving deeper and deeper into the ocean. Everything had gone cold and dark around her. She had started flailing at some point, arms reaching for a hand outstretched towards her, but it was so far away. No matter how many times she tried to swim lower, she couldn't. Bex simply flailed, and allowed the oxygen to clog up her lungs. She saw the bright light all over again.

And then she woke up. Her throat burned from screaming, and her whole body shook with nerves. She released a shuddering breath and tried pushing herself up. It took a few tries, but once she sat up, back straight against the pillows, Bex curled her arms around herself.

After her first Games, Bex had more trauma than anyone could imagine. It felt a lot like this. The last thing she wanted was to revert back to that place. A few months after coming home from her Victory tour, sixteen-year-old Bex visited the local healer in Seven. There was no one else to go to but a healer, and she didn't dare trust any physician in the Capitol to help. She asked the healer how to get rid of nightmares. Sensing her trauma, the healer recommended all that she knew. "You have to get control over your own body," she said. "Remind yourself that you're still present."

The healer couldn't do much to help her predicament. There weren't many resources for traumatized Victors anyway. But somehow, someway that tactic still helped Bex through even the worst panic attacks.

Inhaling the sweat still clinging to her shirt, Bex centered herself in the room. Her arms tightened around her own body as she whispered, "My name is Bex Nassar. I'm from District Seven. I am the Victor of the sixty-seventh Hunger Games. I was forced back into the arena for the Third Quarter Quell." She swallowed hard when the memories tried to resurface, but she pushed them away. "I survived. Finnick survived. Johanna survived. But Keaton – Nico –"

Bex coughed and began choking on a sob. She breathed out heavily, swallowing it down. The sob burned its way down her throat and begged for release, but she continued to ignore it. This was the only way to get better, to get a grip on reality. There was no way she'd be getting out of this hospital room if she continued to let her mind plague her with memories. She needed to be in control now.

She focused on her breathing and rubbed at her eyes. They stung with fresh tears. But she wouldn't let her trauma win. She looked for a means of distraction while scanning the room.

And a distraction is just what she found.

In the dark hue of the window on her door, Bex could've sworn she saw two sea-green eyes staring back at her. The same eyes that were once lively and made her want to drown in them, but now they just looked dead. She inched closer to the edge of the bed, not breaking her stare. She feared that if she did, she'd lose him forever. All she wanted was to be closer to him – someone who understood all the pain and agony she was feeling right now.

She wanted Finnick.

But alas, the second she blinked, he was gone.

━━━━━━

A/N: sooooo little bit of a surprise here! bex actually managed to get to 13!! I feel like a lot of you were thinking and/or hoping she'd be in the capitol, but I threw in some hints here in there in the last chapter and the act divider to throw you off 🤣 oopsie!! the rose gif in the act divider, especially, had y'all thinking she might be in the capitol, but some more white roses might come into play while she's in 13 👀 bex isn't the flower girl for nothing! and alas, I'm also not creative enough to have her in the capitol with peeta and subject her to all that torture. I know I've killed a lot of my OCs in the past but I just can't do it anymore y'all, I really can't 😭😭 so no more violent torture for bex. act iii will be a lot of mental torture for her as she deals with her own trauma and coming to terms with it, but no more violent afflictions on her from gross old men ❌

anyways I hope you guys liked this chapter and are excited for act iii!