and nothing can stop us [WT] [Wander+Annie]

[pearl mcclain d4 [ryan]]

She cant breath.

The feeling of needles and gels stabbing or getting slathered on her was something that she just couldn’t quite get used too.

The moment she was placed into the healing wing of the training center, she was told that they could do anything she wanted to make her whole again.

The first couple of hours she couldn’t move, probably because she was pretty heavily sedated. They gave her something to help her sleep while she watched them assess the damages she received in the arena before she drifted off into a slumber that she honestly needed.

---

It didn’t take her long for her mind to arrive in the arena again, however this time, she felt like she was dying.

The knife that she threw did not kill Denali Lyons, and all of the sudden, she was being pelted with various knives from both of the girls who she killed to go home.

Each one struck her quickly, but when they lodged into her skin, she felt like they took ages to stop moving. Each millimeter they moved she could barely breath. And before she knew it, she heard a cannon go off before she could even fall to the ground.

However, the cannon did not go off once.

The first time it was soft as a knife serrated her neck.

The second time, she felt a knife pierce her arm.

The third time, it was so loud that she ended up screaming herself awake.

---

The doctors looked at her like she was crazy, and maybe Annie was. Maybe this was the start of something awful for her. Her descent into madness that she had no choice in because of the trauma that she had faced.

The doctors caught her from flying off the gurney and reassured her that everything was going to be fine. However, Annie was far from fine.

She was broken, down the middle and then halved and quartered from there. She wished she could have just disappeared in the ether like the rest of the tributes had, but that was not the fate destined for her. No.

She was meant to live a life in the spotlight that she “deserved” and she was going to hate every single minute of it.

At least for now.

---

Once she was breathing steadily again, they started to read off the list of things that Annie had suffered from the arena.

Multiple cuts from various mutts.

A couple deeper cuts from a couple of the tributes.

And of course, a missing hand.

They started to go over her options, surprisingly enough, giving her a choice in the matter.

She stared down the tablet they gave her, instructing her to pick a wound and mark how much of it she wanted to disappear.

The small cuts, she elected those to go away, because they were not relevant enough scars to boat around.

The deeper cuts, she also elected to have repaired, except she did ask that the ones on her back aren’t completely erased, as well as the scar on her cheek. She wanted to have something to remember her fight against Bette by.

And then when it came to her hand, a flurry of options opened for her.

According to the tablet, she could have had many things done for her hand, like stem cell regrowth, transplant, various items equipped to it, or even restoration by other means.

But none of that mattered, because Annie knew what she wanted to do. ”As much as I want to forget the hell I just went through, I need a reminder. A strong one, of what I just fought for.” Annie looked at the doctors, all of which didn’t seem too interested in her words. ”Ill take a detachable prosthetic.” she read off of the tablet as she looked them in the eyes.

This was what she was going to have to be comfortable with, and as much as she knew that she could have whatever she wanted, she needed to make sure she never forgot what brought her to this point.

And just how lucky she was.

---

Everything happened so quickly and before she knew it, she woke up in the district 4 apartments.

She could feel her lungs collapsing on her, but she took a second to calm her center and focus on neutral thoughts.

She had spent a good amount of the night dreaming about what it would have been like to see Wander again. She knew that one day they would meet again, but it probably would have been after all of the games duties that she had to fill as the new victor.

Her arm was covered in bandages all the way up to her shoulder, a precaution obviously to ward off people touching the gift that capitol gave her.

She stood from her bed, clicking off the background that was probably put on by Leon to help her sleep. The ocean back in four.

Truly, if she was even remotely conscious yesterday, she would have told Leon to leave it be. She was not ready to think of home yet, especially because there was so much going on here.

She went to the shower, stripping off her clothes and stepping into the wide opening that showers here had and began to press a couple buttons.

Once the water hit her skin, she closed her eyes and began to run her fingers around her body.

She stopped at each scar and let her hand trace over it delicately.

This was her chance to get reacquainted with the body that felt like a stranger now.

An old friend that she lost a long time ago for one reason or another.

She spent a while in the shower, getting comfortable in the skin that covered her existence. She thought about what Hellion Angel and Parson might have looked like right now, and she shuddered at the thought.

She knew they were alive too, she just didn’t know where they were, or even if she was ready to see them.

She stepped out of the shower and covered herself with a towel. She called for the avox, who changed the sopping wet bandages for fresh ones.

The moment the avox tightened the tourniquet, she heard the door open and for a moment she thought it had just been Leon bringing back something from the mess hall that they didn’t provide for them up here.

Annie changed into something that was a little more comfortable and decided to walk out of the room that she confined herself too for the last couple hours.

”Leon?” she said as she began to walk towards the center of the apartment.

That’s when she heard the sounds a door opening, and the moment she saw Leon walk in with Wander Sibley she nearly dropped to the ground. She could not believe that ve was really here.

President Snow really was keeping his word.

She didn’t say a word, she didn’t want to say any words.

Instead she stepped forward and pulled Wander in for a hug.

”We made it Wander. Were both going home.” Annie could not help but cry, and as much as she tried to avoid doing it in front of Wander, she knew that ve did not mind emotions, especially when she was sure that ve felt the same way.

And so hot tears ran down her cheeks like the blood had in the arena.

And she thanked her stars for making this possible.

[WT]

Leon Krigel knows exactly how it feels to stand on a metal plate under the weight of the Arena and all the odds stacked against you. Ten days ago, Wander would have traded a lot to have him in the tunnel in Jizav's place for that alone—to know that the last person to see ver before the cameras rolled would not only care, but understand. On the other side of the Arena, released (ha) back into his custody, Wander stays two furious steps ahead of him, listening to the soft, uneven swish of the pants Jizav made, and wishes ve could trade Leon for him again.

Ten days ago, Glamour Kinkade was at most an idea and an impassive set of eyes behind a force field—possible to hate, but only in the vague, impersonal way Wander hates forces of nature and vengeful ghosts. After the Vault he's a person, the camera angles and the tinny speakers stripped away to leave a man who drapes himself in a shiny jacket and surrounds himself with guards to play stupid mind games and gloat about his death trap to one of the people it killed. He's a person Leon sees something in, something important enough to either forgive him for things that will never be Leon's to forgive or to care about him despite knowing that he can't, and after long consideration Wander has decided that ve doesn't actually give a shit what that is.

Ve's self-aware enough—and remembers I don't want my name coming out of a hypocrite's throat keenly enough—to think there's something unfair about that, something selfish in hoping ve'll never have to take sides between vis friends while ve refuses to even offer to hear Leon out. And silence eats at ver as sharply as the pace ve's setting eats at vis still-aching legs; avoidance is not how Wander handles things. Every few steps ve wants to whirl. Did you know? ve could ask, Did he tell you?—but the things Wander did, the things vis friend did, are a world removed from the choices Glamour Kinkade has made, and there is no answer Leon can give ver that ve wants to hear.

Ve doesn't open the door fast enough to get in alone, but ve focuses hard on the doorknob and then the floor, and then—

It's not Leon who grabs ver. It's Annie.

Air rushes out of Wander and ve hugs back reflexively, ignoring the screeching protests from vis left arm and ribs and tucking vis face into a wave of blonde hair. "We made it Wander," she says—not through cameras and on a screen, but right there, for the first time since they parted ways in the mine.

"Yeah," ve chokes out.

"We're both going home."

"Yeah." Ve thinks ve even believes that now, and isn't that a thought: home. Normal life. The kids, vis parents, vis crew. Real waves, warm and dangerous and comforting and unconstrained. Vis friends—including, now, Annie—Annie, who killed Bette and helped kill Eve, who Wander will have to watch fade into the distance as the train moves. Bette, who helped kill Shy, who is friends with Carmen, who helped kill Wander, who held her in the Vault while she sobbed—

Wander hits Annie's shoulder with a closed fist, not hard enough to hurt her but hard enough to feel the motion in vis cracked ribs. "You didn't have to be cruel about it. With Eve. You and Angel, you didn't—she didn't—" Wander dissolves into shaky breaths, not sure where ve's taking that argument. She didn't kill Hell, ve meant to say, but it's not like Temple deserved Angel's contempt either. She threw a knife, and it found its mark, same as Annie. Same as Wander.

Vis fingers uncurl and fold, clinging to fabric and to the warmth beneath. Tears drip against vis neck, and that's what finally makes vis own fall; ve keeps thinking ve's cried out, these last few days, but maybe ve never will be. "I'm so glad you're okay," ve says, fighting hard to keep vis voice steady. "It's—I'm so glad."

[pearl mcclain d4 [ryan]]

The room always felt small, no matter how many times Annie thought about it as she spent the last couple days in here to recover from her wounds. Leon told her that the pain would go away slowly, and that if she truly believed it, that everything would be fine. She let the capitol have their way with her wounds after all. They offered to fix everything, everything and anything that they could have gotten a small piece of equipment into. The only thing that she pushed back on was her hand. She needed something to hold onto. Something that reminded her that she had to do what she had to do into order to make it out of the arena. A reminder. A ghost of the person that she used to be.

Nothing would be fine though, she knew that. She would be paraded around the world as someone who survived all odds and came out on top. She was a victor now. Not only that, but a career victor. The last time that had happened was 7 games ago when Justice Fray defied all odds and come out on top. Annie wondered if she was ever going to meet him, or if he disappeared like a couple of the other victors she knew about. She took a deep breath, realizing that that didn’t matter.

Not here.

Not now.

Not ever.

After all, the news that followed the quell announcement was more than enough to pull Annie out of whatever depression she might have fallen into. President Snow sure knew how to fuck with her emotions, and she could be nothing but grateful for it. After all, he didn’t have to show mercy to the tributes of this games. He could have let them all remain skeletons and bones, lifeless corpses that would simply stay in storage until they found a use for them again. The 78th was always fresh in her mind after all. She had no clue that they would or even could reanimate them, and while it might not have been them, the thought of Wander, or Angel, or Hellion being a zombie in a future games was more than enough to be thankful for Snow’s decision.

There was always a silver lining.

---

But that didn’t matter, because Wander was here, in front of her, a body full of blood that was warm to the touch. Annie’s tears did not stop. They cascaded. They crescendo and she just let them. She wasn’t going to stop her emotions. Not here. Not anymore. She proved to herself that she could do the survival part of the games after all, and now that Wander was right in front of her, they could say they were able to do the survival part together.

Or something like that.

But she could tell that something was on ver mind. Words struggled through the air, and Annie was a little perplexed by the sentences that left ver mouth. Annie knew Wander to be eloquent, even at such a young age, and yet there ve was, trying to emote something that had probably been eating away at ver.

However, actions did speak louder than words, and finally, it all came barreling out of ver. Eve. Bette. Temple. She felt vis fist collide with her shoulder, but she did not flinch. She couldn’t feel a thing at this point anyway, they had pumped her with enough drugs to make her numb to almost anything. Her body moved slightly as she stood back from ver and tried to think of what to say. Was there anything that she could say to ver? That was the real question that Annie had to answer for herself. ”Wander… I…” Annie started, taking a moment to choose her words carefully. Didn’t have a choice? Didn’t want to do it? Annie processed each statement quickly before dismissing it. No. None of them were right. ”I had to survive.” Annie said simply, pushing tears out of her eyes and distancing herself from ver for a moment. She didn’t expect ver to understand, at all really. They were ver friends after all, just like Angel, Parson, and Hellion were hers. Two of them were taken out by their hands, and one by her own. They all had to go through that.

There was no denying that. ”We have a chance to leave it behind us here…” Annie said, turning her body towards ver. ”Of course, it will never be left behind Wander. It will always follow us, wherever we go, but we have time to unpack it.” Annie said before moving close and resting a hand on ver shoulder before embracing again. ”We can just let it be for now.” she could feel tears streaming through the clothes the capitol had provided for her. ”I never thought I would get the chance to see you, led alone thank you again Wander.” She spoke honestly.

”Thank you.” she said softly. Thinking about the conversation they had on the train. ”Thank you.” she said again. Thinking about the conversation they shared in the wake of Parson’s death. ”Thank you.” She spoke quietly as she let the moment just be what it was. They didn’t need to share any animosity towards each other. Not here. Not now.

Not ever.