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KILL FOR YOUR LOVE.

act three.

(chapter forty-one, but her hand did slip)

a white room, 75 ADD.

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THE VICTOR DID NOT sleep that night. She didn't want to. She couldn't close her eyes. She had suddenly felt frightened by the bed and quilts. Juniper still saw the dip in the sheets from when Clampitt had sat on them previously and whatever it was, she was terrified of them. Juniper felt as if the blankets would suffocate her with their soft touch. And so, for most of that night, she sat cross-legged on the cold, tiled floor. 

And as she did, feeling the coolness creep into her being, there was one thing that was certain on her mind. Finnick. Finnick enveloped her thoughts, took ahold of her brain. She remembered the clip Clampitt had shown her of the last night of the Quell and the man from Four seemed dangerously close to the lightning tree. Did he get electrocuted? Was he paralysed? Was he even alive?

No. He was. Clampitt had said that the rebels picked him and everyone else up. So Finnick had to be alive. But what was he doing? Was he pacing around whatever rebel headquarters, biting his fingernails and the skin surrounding his thumbs as he thought of ways he could persuade Plutarch to save Juniper? Was Annie with him? 

Annie was surely with Finnick. That was something the man would ask Plutarch, Lucy, and Haymitch to do first thing he woke. He would want them to get Annie from Four before it was too late. He had already lost Mags, his mentor. He couldn't lose Annie, the woman he loved to his core, as well. But could he lose Juniper? 

That was something Juniper thought about as she shuddered on the floor. Could everyone live on without her? Juniper gathered that they could. Two weeks, five days now. Everyone could go on without her. Orion Hale, her father, might not. He would be devastated. Lucy Stevens would be dismayed. She might shed a tear. Juniper hoped she would shed more than a tear. And then Finnick. He, if it weren't for Annie presumably being with him, wouldn't live on. Juniper and the man had gotten close over the three-years that they had known each other. Inseparable within the Capitol, which was really the only time they saw each other. So, Juniper, in her selfish, petty way, would like to think that Finnick was stricken with fear over her. He seemed to be the only plausible rebel to be so. 

But the thought of Finnick Odair caring for her did not help Juniper with her fear of the quilts. She had no idea what was going on with her, but all she could think about was Clampitt's eyes staring into her, her silk voice flowing through the air as she said that Juniper owed the Capitol something. 

She didn't owe the Capitol anything. She had made that quite clear to the doctor. The Capitol had taken everything she had ever loved. Just because they saved her from the arena when Plutarch left her there didn't mean anything. They probably took her with the idea of torturing her for the plan. But it had been two weeks, five days and yet, there was no torture. There was no abuse. The only people Juniper ever saw within the white room of hell was Clampitt and the occasional Peacekeeper that rolled in the television and gave her meals. 

Juniper was just going crazy by her own accord. 

She had been sitting on the floor for hours by the time she forced herself to get up. Her joints throbbed, muscles cramped, bones moaned. There was a certain amount of tension in her lower back that no cracking of her spine could get. She had forced herself to sit cross-legged on the tiles and that was the consequence she would get. Even the loud banging of the door opening caused every fibre in her being to tingle. 

A Peacekeeper came in with a tray. They barely glanced at Juniper as they walked over to the bed, placing it on the table. As they did, the Hale woman craned her neck to see out of the door. The same hallway was there and Peacekeepers' were stationed every ten-inches. And everything was still white. But Juniper had seen enough white to not be affected by the colour. What did perk her interest was the massive, grey door at the end of the hallway. But before she could even look for more information, the Peacekeeper went past her and out of the door, slamming it behind them. 

Juniper winced slightly as she massaged her temples with her fingertips. She slowly made her way to the bedside table, steering clear of Clampitt's dip in the quilts, and examined the meal she was given. But it wasn't porridge. Instead, there was a little plastic bowl of fruit. It was all neatly presented and it was about the only vibrant colours in the white room. And a plastic cup filled with orange juice sat beside it. 

The Hale woman stifled a chuckle as she shook her head. She took the plastic bowl and cup as well as a silver fork before sitting back down on the floor. The minute she dug the utensil into her mouth, she cherished the taste of the mouth-watering fruits that only the Capitol could have. The fruit had much more flavour than the porridge did and Juniper sighed at the tanginess of the orange juice. She took her time with her meal, not out of spite to disgust Clampitt or because she feared it was poisoned. Simply because she never wanted the flavours to stop and she had never been so disappointed to see the bottom of a plastic bowl and cup before. 

Settling them back on the tray with her fork, Juniper forced herself to get up, staring around the room. She licked her lips dry of any juices from the fruits before looking at the pillow on the bed. And so, clenching her jaw, Juniper quickly got the cushion off the sheets, not even glancing at the dip Clampitt made, before chucking it on the floor. 

Then, she simply rested her head on it as she laid her back on the ground. She could feel the coolness creeping into the small of her back, slowly numbing the ache and tension there with the comfort of the pillow caressing her head. It was enough to nearly have Juniper close her eyes. But she couldn't. She wouldn't. 

Instead, she began to do what she had forced herself to do about four-days-ago if Clampitt was right about times. Juniper did simple equations in her head, stuff she tried to remember from when she was little, then built up to the harder, more difficult problems. She tried to think things over such as little jokes people had told her. Anything. Juniper just tried to distract herself from the boredom that was a consequence of her isolation. She tried to keep her brain moving, to make it keep going. She didn't want to go brain-dead. It had happened with too many tributes, too many Victors' for Juniper to just end up like that. 

And it was only when the door flew open once more a few hours later that Juniper stopped, looking up from where she laid on the floor. Clampitt was in the door's frame, hair done in an intricate braid, glasses perched on the bride of her nose, lab coat swishing around her knees. She held another black, squared tape. 

"That's an odd sleeping position," the doctor commented. "You do have a bed, Miss Hale." 

"I wasn't sleeping," Juniper retorted as she got up, groaning slightly. Clampitt took a spot on the bed, settling right into the dip she had caused yesterday. 

"Well, you should," the woman said. "Your sleeping schedule is all messed up... ah, but you ate. Did you like the plastic cup and bowl?" 

"I very much appreciated it." Juniper sneered as she stood up properly. 

Clampitt raised a brow at the viciousness in her voice before resetting her face, asking, "Why are you on the floor with a pillow? Are you suddenly terrified of the bed?" 

Juniper did not answer. 

"Hmm, interesting... is it because I've sat on the quilts?"

Juniper still did not answer.

Clampitt rolled her eyes as she readjusted her grip on the black tape, saying, "Miss Hale, just sit on the bed. It isn't going to hurt you. It's not a living thing, the sheets."

Juniper scoffed at the statement, but still obliged. She slowly walked over to the bed, clenching her jaw as she sat down on it slightly. She did not want to sit next to Clampitt. She, really, did not want to even be in her proximity. Juniper eyed the tape in her grasp. 

"What are you showing me now?" 

"Something from the Quell," Clampitt mumbled as a Peacekeeper entered the room with the same trolley that had the old television on it. They put it in-front of the two women before exiting. 

"If you're going to ask about—"

Clampitt didn't let Juniper finish as she interrupted her, saying, "I won't. No reason to. I'm not going to keep asking you each and every day in hopes you actually say something." 

"So... what are you going to be showing me?" Juniper rolled her eyes. "The bloodbath this time, maybe?" 

"No." Clampitt scoffed. "Nothing important happened during the bloodbath, I can assure you." 

The doctor held out the black tape like she did yesterday and pushed it into the player, turning the television on. It crackled and Juniper brought her knees up to her chest. She wasn't fearful of what Clampitt could possibly show her, but she knew she wasn't going to like it as well. Multiple memories from the Quell rushed through her head as she watched the screen finally turn on, showing a complete view of the arena, flooded in the darkness of the night. Then the clip changed to show Johanna, Juniper herself, Blight, Beetee, and Wiress standing within the jungle, panting and looking rightly exhausted. 

"I don't know, Blight." Johanna on the screen scoffed. Caesar Flickerman's and Claudius Templesmith's commentary was absent. "Climb the trees and sleep there?" 

"Do you really think Wiress will climb a tree and not fall out?" Juniper on the screen retorted and the clip changed angles to include Wiress in the shot, who was muttering to herself like a lunatic. 

But before anyone could answer, a loud bell sound echoed around both the arena and the white room of hell. But it was only the people on the screen that jumped considering the tributes had no idea what that meant. However, Juniper, watching beside Clampitt, gathered that the tolling of the bell meant that the hourly horrors were to begin. 

"Twelve rings," Blight had said. 

"Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock," Wiress repeated and even present Juniper fought hard to not groan at the sound of the woman singing. 

"Look..." Johanna on the screen began to say as she juggled the cylinder of wire and axe in her hands to run her fingers through her hair. "Why don't we keep moving until one of us faints, aye? And hey, maybe we'll find a set of sleeping bags..." 

Juniper suddenly became aware of what Clampitt was showing her as she watched the five of them wander off deeper into the jungle only to stop when they heard lightning echo around, huge grins plastered on their faces. But the Hale woman, studying the screen, did not smile.

Clampitt was going to show her Blight's death. 

"Fucking finally!" Johanna had yelled over the lightning as the camera looked up to see the dark, thunderous clouds."I swear I was gonna tumble like Hale did!"

Juniper knew they waited an hour for the clouds to roll over to them, but Clampitt must have sped the clip up because in a matter of seconds, it changed to a shot showing Wiress pointing up to the sky as droplets began to fall down, everyone opening their mouths. 

And then Johanna's scream echoed around the white room of hell as Juniper watched her begin to thrash around, a sheet of water drowning them. But Clampitt knew it wasn't water and the Hale woman knew it wasn't water. It was thick, hot blood. 

All of their screams echoed around. Their gagging and choking were mixed with their guttural cries as they began to get blinded by the blood. Juniper winced slightly as she realised that the camera lens in the arena could look through the heavy sheet of blood, watching everyone run around aimlessly in a circle trying to get out, coated in crimson red. She watched as she had tried to run, but that Blight had held his hand out towards her and the other three. Juniper looked as everyone gladly held on and they began to run in one, straight line. 

Both Juniper and Clampitt studied how everyone nearly fell over bushes and tangles of vines. They noticed how Blight kept the strongest grip on everyone, grunting and groaning as he tried to get them to safety. But the doctor sped past most of their running as Juniper was sure they had been sprinting for nearly an hour in the actual arena because it showed vividly how hers and Johanna's hands slipped from Blight as he ran head-on into the force field quickly. It showed how he was flung back with such a force, it knocked over Juniper and the others, sending them flying. 

A cannon echoed around and Juniper bit the inside of her mouth as she stared at Blight's blood-drenched body laying in the soil. Then, as the blood rain stopped and Juniper was ultimately confused why Clampitt would show her Blight's death, the television turned off. 

"Why would you show me that?" Juniper asked straight away, looking at the doctor. "What is the importance of that?" 

"The importance is in my question," Clampitt told her. "It will help me... understand you more." 

Juniper scoffed as she replied, "I thought you said you now know what makes me tick?"

"I did, yes." Clampitt nodded. "But I want to find out why you didn't save Blight from Seven." 

"... what?" 

"Why didn't you save Blight from Seven?" Clampitt asked. "He was a perfectly good person. Innocent, enough. Cared, enough. Why didn't you save him?" 

Juniper furrowed her brows as she looked at the doctor. Save him? Why didn't she save Blight? Juniper was rightly perplexed because, firstly, why did Clampitt care if Blight died or not? The Capitol people enjoyed the blood-shed, the sound of a cannon going off. They didn't care if tributes died. They just wanted a Victor. So why did Clampitt care? And, secondly, how can Clampitt expect Juniper to save Blight when she was staggering around blind in thick, hot blood?

"Why didn't I save him?" Juniper scoffed. "Oh, damn, I don't know, Clampitt. Maybe because I was blind? Maybe because I couldn't speak without getting a mouthful of blood? How can you have expected me to save Blight?" 

"Because you could've held on tighter, Miss Hale," the doctor spoke. "You saw in that clip how your hand slipped from Blight's. And you knew it was him, but yet you still let go."

"I didn't let go—" 

"But you did." Clampitt hummed. "You can see it in that clip... you purposely let go—" 

"I didn't—!"

"Yes, you did." Clampitt sighed. Her tone was much calmer and softer than Juniper's was. "And you know you did..."

(But suddenly, her hand slipped from Blight's and there was a large boom)

Slipped. 

Juniper was sure her hand had slipped. That the thick, hot blood made it difficult to grasp Blight's flesh... but had it slipped? Yes, surely it had. Juniper wouldn't purposely rip her fingers away from Blight's. He was part of the plan and was quite a decent human being. She wouldn't purposely try and kill him... would she?

"My hand... slipped..." Juniper stated slowly. She could feel her fingertips trembling as she tried to fiddle with the end of her paper robe. "I wouldn't... purposely try and kill Blight."

"But you purposely killed Gloss from One. And then you purposely killed your own district partner, Brent Higgins. What is it to say that you also killed Blight purposely?" 

Juniper looked at Clampitt without saying a word. 

The doctor studied the Hale woman's face, glancing at the way her expressions had turned from pure anger at the accusation to a mixture of pain and grief. Juniper hadn't purposely killed him. She wouldn't even think of it. Blight had saved her from Brutus. He was the first one to go to her when she collapsed from exhaustion and dehydration. And he was probably the most sanest and warmest within their group of five at the time. Juniper wouldn't even think of killing Blight. 

But her hand did slip. 

She did let go. But it wasn't on purpose. However, her hand did slip. If she had held on tighter, would Blight still be alive? They were all running towards the force field. If her hand didn't slip, if she had held on tighter, would it have stopped him from running? Would it have caused enough sense in Blight's brain to even think about the force field?

Juniper didn't know, but all she did know was that her hand slipped from Blight's. Whether it was accidental or on purpose, it still slipped. And Blight was dead. 

She should have held on tighter. 

"My hand..." Juniper began to say slowly. Clampitt nodded encouragingly. "Did slip..."

Clampitt smiled sorrowfully at the Victor as she spoke, "Yes, it did... and do you blame yourself for his death?" 

The Hale woman parted her lips slightly as her brows bunched up, wrinkles caressing her nose. "I... it was an accident." 

"But do you blame yourself?" 

Yes. 

"Yes..." 

Clampitt nodded slightly as she readjusted her glasses. She got up from the bed and as she did, she smoothed out the dip she had caused on the quilts before walking over to the door. It had opened and a Peacekeeper was rolling the trolley with the television on it out of the room. Juniper focused her vision on the tiles and didn't even look up as the doctor left. 

Juniper stayed sitting on the bed, the door locking behind Clampitt. She would never purposely kill Blight. She had no reason to. He was a caring, warm, sweet man. He had saved her from Brutus. He had held her when she collapsed. Juniper had no motive to murder him. He was the only one she could stand out of Beetee, him, Wiress, and Johanna. Beetee was an old, wise man that spoke in riddles. Wiress was nuts. And Johanna Mason was Johanna Mason. Blight was the only one Juniper could stand out of them. 

The Hale woman might not have known him to a personal level. She had only met him at the Tribute Parade for the Seventy-Fourth Games. The Games Katniss and Peeta won. And even then, it wasn't a conversation to be remembered. Brent was talking drunk and Blight was just nodding along, trying hard to not be rude as he introduced himself to Juniper. It was short, but sweet. But nothing to feel a certain connection. But he had saved her from Brutus. When she collapsed, he was the first one to get to her. 

(And as Juniper eyed him, she realised it was Blight, the male tribute from Seven)

(And it was Blight who rushed to her side, gently picking her up as he left Johanna with Wiress and Beetee)

Juniper would never purposely kill Blight from Seven. No reason. No motive. Juniper had a reason to kill Brent. Gloss was more complex. But she would never target Blight. Never. 

But her hand did slip.