"WE THOUGHT IT WAS RAIN," Johanna said, her gaze feverish, gesturing wildly toward the jungle, "y'know, because of the lightning. But when it started coming down, it turned out to be blood. Thick, hot blood. You couldn't see, couldn't speak without getting a mouthful. We just staggered around, trying to get out of it." She sucked in a ragged inhale, half-delirious, half a storm trapped between her ears. "That's when Blight hit the force field."

Never the tree, always the woodcutter, Alecto thought as she limped down the beach toward Johanna, still not quite believing her own eyes. Soaked in blood with her dark hair hanging in stringy tresses around her shoulders and her dark eyes glittering with a manic fury, Johanna looked half-wild, half-savage, a warrior brandishing her axe, standing among the carcasses of her slain enemies littering the battlefield. She'd felt herself moving before she could think of it, following after Katniss and Peeta, her father in tow, her entire body flushing numb.

"I'm sorry, Johanna," Finnick said, sympathetically.

"Yeah, well, he wasn't much but he was from home," Johanna said, "and he left me alone with these two." Her tone was scathing as she nudged Beetee with her toe, short of kicking him square in the shoulder out of frustration. "He got a knife in the back at the Cornucopia, and her—"

"Tick-tock, tick-tock," Wiress mumbled, milling about like a motorised corpse, the blood drying on her papery skin.

"Yeah, we know. Tick-tock, Nuts is in shock." Johanna rolled her eyes. At that point, Wiress drew close, nearly crashing into Johanna, who, irritation blazing, shoved her into the sand, hissing, "Just stay down, will you?"

"Lay off her," Katniss snapped, as Atlas went to help Wiress up.

Hatred warped Johanna's face, her angular features sharpening, the dark of her eyes glimmering with murderous intent. Lip curled, Johanna snarled. "Lay off her?" She lunged forward, and her arm snapped out so quickly only when Katniss' head snapped to the side and the shock registered, did they realise Johanna had slapped her. "Who do you think got them out of the jungle for you? You—"

At that moment, Finnick picked her up and tossed her thrashing body over his shoulder, kicking and screaming, and marched her down to the water. Even as he repeatedly dunked her into the waves, they could still hear Johanna viciously cussing out Katniss, her voice carried over by the sea breeze. Alecto frowned. Allies were established early on in the Games, in person. Once the Games begun, it was everyone for themselves. If you were killed in the Bloodbath, that was it. But Johanna had saved Beetee and Wiress for Katniss, dragging them through the jungle despite the fact that they were both deadweight, useless at fighting, and far from survivalists.

Alecto thought of Finnick's gold bangle, and her father's token—the ring that'd been given to him. There was a plan stirring, and it centred around Katniss' survival. No matter the cost.

But what about the rest of them? Alecto thought, water swirling around her ankles. What had her father gotten them into?

Unknowingly, she'd drifted from the group as Katniss and Peeta led Beetee and Wiress to the shallows to clean the blood off, wandering much closer to their camp. Alecto felt her father's gaze burn against her back, but he didn't stop her as she trudged through the knee-deep water toward Johanna and Finnick, who, caught up in their rapid-fire bickering, didn't notice Alecto trailing after them. Waist-deep in the water, Alecto risked a glance back, but her father had already moved on, and was now conversing with Beetee, the corners of his mouth tugged up just fractionally in the ghost of a smile as he helped sponge the blood off his back. She turned her gaze back to the water.

Sometimes, Alecto dreamt of the ocean in District 4—she'd only ever seen it once in person in her whole life, but she found herself wondering, often, what lay beyond it, what sort of secrets it held beneath the surface, guarded by the threat of death. Dreamt of its power, the immensity of it—not the ocean itself but the climbing tide of emotion sweeping through her as she stood ankle-deep in the freezing water, soaking it all in, gulping salty air into her lungs as if she could swallow the whole thing; the thunderous white noise of the waves rushing against the shore, the sand sifting beneath her feet to accommodate her weight—she'd never been hugged like this before. And the sea breeze stinging her cheeks not out of malice or aversion but with the feverish, colliding embrace of an old friend shucking the weight of too much time gone by off their shoulders, Alecto had never been so missed so fiercely by anyone before—it was never like this in District 2. Out here in the ocean, where the air was wild, where the current knew nothing except its power, and where she'd dreamt countless times of diving into the water, and disappearing into the waves.

Now, as Alecto stood in the water, her skin cooling in the slight breeze, the tossing waves rocking her from side to side, the gentle push and pull lulling her mind into silence, she knew those pictures were wrong. no still-shot could encapsulate the immensity of it. the light glistening off the rippling water, the stirring current, the sunset spilling over the waves, colours that never stayed still, ichorous gold bleeding into roseate pink, into a blushing purple, into sea-glass green, into a delicious orange, colours so vibrant it broke her heart.

For the first time in three years, there were no dark shapes, no silhouettes of crooked rabbit ears, no venomous boys pressing knives to her throat.

There was only the sound of her own heart, beating in tandem with the waves.

Alecto sunk to her knees, submerging herself up to her neck, and dug her palms into the sand sifting beneath her weight, moulding to the shape of her legs, and nearly wept. No one has held her this tenderly. No one has been this close before.

"You like the water?" A smooth voice mused from behind her as a shadow lapsed over her. Leant against his trident, Finnick stood at her back, watching her marvel as the water washed over her. A couple paces behind him, Johanna was scrubbing the blood from her hair, shaking her dark tresses out like a peeved dog.

Alecto grinned, her smile awkward and more grimace-like, but filled with light humour and mirth nonetheless, and nodded vigorously.

Finnick let out a breathy laugh, prince of the ocean, resplendent in the sun. "They say it's where all life came from, so, really, we're all children of the sea. It should be everyone's birthright to be able to come see the ocean as they please."

"Careful with the religious talk, fish-boy," Johanna snarked as she splashed over to them. "Might get you smote before you have a chance to play."

Johanna's gaze caught on Alecto's for a split second, her shadow falling over Alecto's like a soft caress.

The world came to a standstill. Even the waves fell silent as the roaring in her ears drowned out the humming of the arena, and Finnick's swift retreat. Only over champagne glasses and sponsor galas were they ever allowed to be this close. Now, Johanna was standing before her in the water. Sunlight caught on the bronze hues of her skin, softening the edges of her angular face. She'd lost weight since the interviews, and it showed in the gaunt hollows beneath her cheekbones. Rather than reducing her to an emaciated ghost, it only served to sharpen the rage Johanna held between her shoulder blades.

Alecto rose to her feet, her heart ticking inside of her body, her hands clenched into tight fists.

Johanna sniffed, her dark eyes flinty, guarded. "Hey."

Alecto pursed her lips, nodded stiffly.

"So," Johanna said, a muscle in her jaw ticking. "I have no idea what the fuck was going on with you the past few days. I don't know what's been up your ass, or if it was something I said—"

Teeth bared, Alecto lunged. A primal war cry tore loose from her chest, a horrible thing of raw rage slicing through the air, startling birds from trees.

Eyes widening, Johanna let out a vicious curse as Alecto's body slammed into hers with crushing force, shoulder colliding with collarbone, her chin snapping back as Alecto's head made contact, arms constricting around her midsection. They went crashing into the water, and though Alecto felt the burn of salt scorching her throat, filling her nostrils as Johanna thrashed and writhed in her vice-like grip, she didn't let go. Didn't unwind her arms from Johanna's neck. Didn't so much as slip even as Johanna flipped them over and tried to prise her off, nails staked into the flesh of her arms, raking hot red lines into the skin. Johanna's shrieks of bloody murder were drowned by the water, bubbles exploding from her mouth as she gnashed and clawed at Alecto. But as vicious as she fought, Alecto's relentless tenacity far outweighed Johanna's feral instinct.

Part of Alecto wanted to hold her under the surface, drown Johanna as she'd wanted to drown out the sound of her own heartbeat all those parties ago. But then there was also the relief crushing her lungs to her spine, from being able to finally catch hold of her, to finally know that she was alive, something solid to hold onto. And there were too many cameras in this arena. She hadn't wanted this moment dissected by the prying eyes of thousands of strangers. Johanna was hers—and hers only. A hand snuck its way through Johanna's hair.

Eventually, Johanna wriggled violently enough that she'd managed to wrench out of Alecto's grip underwater. She broke the surface, gasping and spluttering, coughing up water, furiously swiping at her face. With a brusque sweep of her palm, she sent a sharp spray of water toward Alecto.

"What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!"

Blinking water from her eyes, Alecto grinned, half-manic, half-menace.

They were standing up to their necks in the water now, carried by the tide into the depths during their violent embrace, staring each other down, chests heaving from the effort. Johanna's cheeks were flushed, and her dark eyes lambent with the embers of fury as she swept Alecto with an incendiary glare. For an endless moment, they bobbed buoyantly in the water, holding the roaring silence between them like a double-edged knife pressed against their sternums. Up close, Alecto could see the freckles constellating her cheeks, brushed lightly over the crooked bridge of her nose, magnified by the drops of water clinging to her skin. Her lips were parted, and she was breathing hard. Alecto's cool gaze flickered back up to meet Johanna's burning stare. In the midday sun, Johanna was radiant. She always was. But even dragged through hell, she came tearing out of the dark in screaming colour.

"You tell me," Alecto breathed, her voice a mere rasp, a raw wound. Her eyes were glittering as she gazed up at Johanna, who snarled down at her, teeth bared menacingly, like she was about to tear her throat out, days of dirt and grime and dried blood smeared over her cheeks, every inch the feral wolf within.

Surprise flickered over Johanna's face, and it was as if Alecto had knocked her back into the water once more. When she eventually found her voice, it came out strangled, scathing. "You... you talk now?"

"I can stop if you want."

"Oh, I'm sorry for being completely caught off-guard, even though you've been completely mute for the past two years that I've known you, and this is literally the first time I'm hearing your voice in person." Clawing her hands through her dark hair, Johanna let out a disbelieving scoff. "How did this happen? Does... does Atlas know?"

Alecto only smiled. These were questions to be answered another time. "It's good to see you, Jo."

Johanna's eyes narrowed accusatorially, but Alecto didn't miss the audible hitch in her breath. "You attacked me."

"I missed you."

"You attacked me."

"Get over it," Alecto said in icy dismissal, and she sounded so much like Iko in that moment that it nearly sent a strange ripple through her. "If I wanted you dead, you would've been."

"Then, why—" Johanna cut herself off, realisation dawning on her then. "Oh."

"Yeah." Even now, Alecto felt the cameras—embedded in the Cornucopia, the spokes, the trees and the birds that soared overhead—trained on them, their interaction a vivisection on live television.

They could have her voice. They could digest the moments where she let on that she cared for her father as much as he loved her. But this thing with Johanna—-she herself not knowing what it was—she didn't want anyone else to figure it out before she did. This, she wanted to keep close, private.

Her father aside, Alecto hadn't touched anyone if it weren't to hurt them in a long time. She thought about Iko's knee, about the hammer she'd raised to save her, the bone she'd broken to keep her out of the line of fire.

Then she thought about Nikolai, about the way his ribs cracked beneath the point of her sword, how his blood, thick and warm and dark, clutched at her hands as she sunk her fingers into the cavity of his chest, how his heart pulsed against her palms. Every scar upon her skin blazed with heat.

And there were the small, accidental touches during dinners, parties, masquerade balls arranged by the sponsors they shared, Johanna's pinky grazing Alecto's arm, their elbows just a whisper away from touching as they clung to the wall to observe the mingling crowd. But Alecto had never embraced anyone with such ferocity, with such desperate need to know that they were real.

In the brackish water, she felt Johanna's beating heart thrashing with life. And in the urgency of the moment, it was enough.

"I mean, I'm happy to see you, too." Johanna sniffed. "But I'm still mad at you."

A corner of Alecto's mouth lifted. "I'll live."

AUTHOR'S NOTE.
sorry for the wait (again). underwater hug? satisfactory? does it say something about alecto that everytime she goes in for a hug (see also: the time she tried to hug her father before entering the arena), the other person always anticipates an attack?