hiddencait (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hiddencait) wrote2013-12-12 07:54 pm
hiddencait) wrote2013-12-12 07:54 pm
Ficmas 2013: "Stripped" Haymitch Abernathy/Johanna Mason The Hunger Games
Hey look it's a prompt from this year! This one is for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
deathmallow - hopefully it feels close to the source. I haven't written much of anything for this fandom.
Crossposted to AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1080753
Stripped
Prompt: Haymitch and Johanna being snarky yet supportive
Haymitch Abernathy/Johanna Mason
The Hunger Games
Total Wordcount:515
Haymitch watched silently as Johanna struggled with the sleeves and the long length of her tunic, her mouth twisting in a grimace as she tugged at it. He’d seen her like this before, the first time that day in the elevator which seemed like decades ago in the wake of everything that had happened since. They hadn’t been alone then so he couldn’t make any kind of comment, of course, though damned he’d sure wanted to. She’d been a lot more… polished so to speak back then, make up and smooth pale skin, and hair slicked back from her sharp features.
There wasn’t a speck of make up on her face now, and her hair was all but ragged with the way it was fallen half-way out of her hair band and sticking up every which way with sweat and worse making it tacky.
She impatiently blew one of those strands out of her face, half snarling at him as he watched. He snorted and shook his head - she hadn’t been grimacing that first time either.
“You going to help?” she sniped, wincing as she tugged again and apparently pulled her shoulder wrong.
“Waiting for you to ask me to. I know better than to offer it.” He did too – Johanna was liable to bite his hand off if he tried to help without her permission. Her independence was fiercely guarded, even now. Haymitch knew better than anyone what it would have cost her to even ask for this small bit of aid. He stepped forward and batted her hands away from her shirt, ignoring the glare she shot him in return. Holding his breath, he eased the tunic up her torso and gingerly pulled it off first her left arm, and then her right, forcing himself not to wince at the sight of the large bruise spreading across her ribs and around to her back and shoulder. With one last pull, the tunic slipped over her head, and she sighed gustily at her freedom, but winced almost immediately after. “What happened here?” he asked softly, not sure she’d bother to answer.
“Lucky shot.”
“Doesn’t look all that lucky to me,” he said, and ducked the blow she half-heartedly swung at him.
“I went easy on him.”
“Sure you did,” he chuckled, guiding her through to the bathroom and his fully stocked kit of bandages and balms courtesy of Katniss’s mother and sister. She went un-protesting, and that alone told him how much she was aching. “Sit down, honey. We’ll get you fixed up.”
She did as he bid, but paused him with a hand on his hip. He waited, and after a moment, she sighed and leaned forward to rest against his chest for a brief moment. “Thanks.”
“Well I’d say anytime, but really…” She looked up in time to see the exaggerated disapproval on his face, and she scoffed. Haymitch shook his head ruefully, and went about doctoring up the bruise.
There was next to nothing right in their world, but for the moment at least, he felt like maybe it could be.
deathmallow - hopefully it feels close to the source. I haven't written much of anything for this fandom.Crossposted to AO3 here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/1080753
Stripped
Prompt: Haymitch and Johanna being snarky yet supportive
Haymitch Abernathy/Johanna Mason
The Hunger Games
Total Wordcount:515
Haymitch watched silently as Johanna struggled with the sleeves and the long length of her tunic, her mouth twisting in a grimace as she tugged at it. He’d seen her like this before, the first time that day in the elevator which seemed like decades ago in the wake of everything that had happened since. They hadn’t been alone then so he couldn’t make any kind of comment, of course, though damned he’d sure wanted to. She’d been a lot more… polished so to speak back then, make up and smooth pale skin, and hair slicked back from her sharp features.
There wasn’t a speck of make up on her face now, and her hair was all but ragged with the way it was fallen half-way out of her hair band and sticking up every which way with sweat and worse making it tacky.
She impatiently blew one of those strands out of her face, half snarling at him as he watched. He snorted and shook his head - she hadn’t been grimacing that first time either.
“You going to help?” she sniped, wincing as she tugged again and apparently pulled her shoulder wrong.
“Waiting for you to ask me to. I know better than to offer it.” He did too – Johanna was liable to bite his hand off if he tried to help without her permission. Her independence was fiercely guarded, even now. Haymitch knew better than anyone what it would have cost her to even ask for this small bit of aid. He stepped forward and batted her hands away from her shirt, ignoring the glare she shot him in return. Holding his breath, he eased the tunic up her torso and gingerly pulled it off first her left arm, and then her right, forcing himself not to wince at the sight of the large bruise spreading across her ribs and around to her back and shoulder. With one last pull, the tunic slipped over her head, and she sighed gustily at her freedom, but winced almost immediately after. “What happened here?” he asked softly, not sure she’d bother to answer.
“Lucky shot.”
“Doesn’t look all that lucky to me,” he said, and ducked the blow she half-heartedly swung at him.
“I went easy on him.”
“Sure you did,” he chuckled, guiding her through to the bathroom and his fully stocked kit of bandages and balms courtesy of Katniss’s mother and sister. She went un-protesting, and that alone told him how much she was aching. “Sit down, honey. We’ll get you fixed up.”
She did as he bid, but paused him with a hand on his hip. He waited, and after a moment, she sighed and leaned forward to rest against his chest for a brief moment. “Thanks.”
“Well I’d say anytime, but really…” She looked up in time to see the exaggerated disapproval on his face, and she scoffed. Haymitch shook his head ruefully, and went about doctoring up the bruise.
There was next to nothing right in their world, but for the moment at least, he felt like maybe it could be.