Wild Card || Levi x Reader

seventeen - when my body's closed down

You stare at him blankly for a second. He can't be serious, can he?

"I'm not sure how much you remember," the man says carefully, in such a way that indicates that he knows exactly how much you remember, "but you were in the arena. Do you remember that?"

Arena. District 12's female tribute, sent off to the games. Yes. You remember.

Slowly, you nod. The man's lips twitch slightly. "Good. There was a rebellion and a rebel group blew up the forcefield in the arena. You were nearly killed in the escape."

That doesn't sound right. You're not sure why it doesn't, but it just... doesn't. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to recall exactly what happened. The arena, a forcefield... something about a forcefield exploding, flying through the air...

Why can't you remember more? You remember traipsing through the forest with Levi, trying to go... where? Fucking hell, why can't you remember-

"The rebellion must be stopped," the man says, dragging you from your thoughts. "President Reiss knows we can count on you to help us stop it."

President Reiss.

By order of President Reiss-

Something clicks in your head.

President Reiss- the head of the Capitol. The same Capitol that killed your parents, the same Capitol that has sent hundreds of children to their deaths, the same Capitol that you hate and want to see burned to the ground.

You hate the Capitol. There's no way they saved you. You won't help them, you'll never do anything to help them, you hate them, you want them to burn-

With a howl, you swing up one of your legs and kick the bearded man as hard as you can. He yells out as he goes tumbling backwards, clutching his side. You pivot in your seat as much as your restraints will allow you to and you lash your foot out again, kicking one of the carts. The cart goes spinning into him.

The man curses, but you've got more pressing issues. You tug furiously at your restraints, but they don't budge. Can you dislocate your thumb and maybe slide your hand out? Maybe you-

The door opens; you jerk your head up. Four Peacekeepers enter, all with their guns raised and pointed at you. It deters you, makes you pause in your fight to get free from your chair prison. You glare at each of them, silently daring them to shoot you.

Another man walks in from behind them. It's Rod Reiss.

Immediately, you fight against the restraints again. "You asshole," you choke out, throat dry and words painful, "fuck you and your fucking Capitol and-"

"That won't do," Rod says dismissively. "Let's try it again."

Try it again? Try what again?

Then, there's a pinch in the side of your neck. Your eyes widen slightly when you turn to see that bearded man you knocked over holding a needle, and you barely have time to get out, "you asshole," before you pass out.

.

"What do you think they're doing to her?"

Hange's voice is hollow, matching how Erwin is sure everyone feels right about now. There's a heaviness to the atmosphere, a weight sinking onto the shoulders of the both of them, caused by the loss of you.

It's more than that. You're the figurehead, the staple of the rebellion, the Mockingjay. You're still Erwin's wild card, but you've become so imperative to the success of the rebellion that Erwin knows how dire this situation is.

You're in every propaganda video they put out. Mockingjay symbols have been found graffitied in the districts. You are beyond important now; you are imperative.