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KILL FOR YOUR LOVE.

act three.

(chapter forty-four, and there was no return)

the white room, 75 ADD.

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A LOST CAUSE. THE words ran through Juniper's head, tormenting her, torturing her. Whatever she had thought about the rebellion, who she thought Plutarch was, it was scratched away with the mere words lost cause. 

("Miss Hale, those two women gave up their lives for a lost cause," Clampitt said, lowering her voice. "They died. And for what? What outcome did they expect?")

("Even now... people are dying," Clampitt said. "People are dying for this cause. A cause that calls for no more death. Isn't that ironic? This idea, this rebellion you are protecting by lying to me, denying the plan... it isn't worth it. The leaders don't care about you or anyone else. They killed the women from Four and Six. Not us. Not me. They did because they only care about their lost cause.")

Clampitt's voice echoed around in Juniper's ears as she sat on the quilts the next morning, running her fingertips over the material. She tried hard to not let the doctor's words affect her, to not have them sprint through her mind. But a lost cause. People were dying. People were giving up their lives for a cause that called for no more violence, no more death. And Plutarch left her there. It had been three weeks and a day now. 

(Clampitt smiled slightly as she began to walk out of the door, but she looked over her shoulder and whispered softly, "What did Heavensbee promise you? What did he say to you in his office?")

Juniper closed her eyes and tried to take a deep breath. She could feel her heart rising in her chest, ribs being crushed by the extreme tightness within her. She shouldn't be listening to Clampitt, knowing that whatever came out of her mouth was a lie. But Mags and the woman from Six died for this. Plutarch asked them to sacrifice themselves. He asked everyone to do an impossible task. Plutarch Heavensbee doomed them all. 

(Plutarch leaned forward as he smirked, saying, "And then the rebellion begins...")

A lost cause. 

Juniper opened her eyes and tried to dispel those three words from her thoughts as she ran a sweaty palm down her face. Hopelessness filled her up as she looked up at the high corner of the room where the hidden camera was. Clampitt would be watching or she would be getting updates by the Peacekeeper that was. And so, with that in mind, Juniper narrowed her eyes up at the invisible camera, hoping that someone would at least do something. 

And they did because the minute Juniper glanced away, the door flew open and a Peacekeeper appeared, holding a tray. The Hale woman watched them as they walked into the white room of hell, ignoring her as they put her breakfast on the bedside table. And then, with a glance at the high corner, the soldier walked out, slammed the door behind them, and locked it. 

Juniper clenched her jaw as she studied the white door before turning her attention to the meal beside her. She expected the fruit bowl or something else for her breakfast this time and was thoroughly disappointed to see the dull look of the thick, creamy clump of porridge with the same plastic cup of water. There was no banana sprinkled along it and with a scowl sent towards the camera, Juniper slowly picked the bowl up and began to eat it. 

But there was no heat. The warmness of the mushy grain did not transfer right into her fingertips, making her sigh with relief that she could still feel. There was no hotness as Juniper laid some of the porridge on her tongue. It was cold. 

It was so cold that it was nearly freezing. And with the addition of the cool water, Juniper did not like her breakfast. It was bland and clumpy as if Clampitt was trying to pressure her into talking about the rebellion by giving her tasteless, cold, lumpy porridge. But the doctor wouldn't be getting anything about the lost cause and Juniper certainly wasn't going to eat the dull, unappealing meal. Therefore, she set the bowl back on the tray and resorted to just sipping on the cool water. At least there was a continuity with her liquids. 

But there was still no consistency with Clampitt's schedule. She did not come that morning and no Peacekeepers' came in to take away her untouched porridge. And it got Juniper thinking that maybe the doctor never came in during the mornings. Maybe she was only starting to come in during the evenings when she was finally free. But it wasn't like Juniper cared. 

So, on an empty stomach that swished around with only water within it, Juniper got up from the bed and stood in the centre of the room. She was determined to build up her strength until the opportunity of escape rose. Sitting in the white room of hell, waiting for Clampitt would not get her anywhere. If there was ever a chance, she would need to be strong enough to take that risk. 

And so, she did what she had done yesterday. She circled her arms around her. She swung each leg around. Hip circles. Lunges. Squats. And once she was satisfied with her warm-up, Juniper began to repeat the simple exercises. Push ups. Chair dips on her bed. Side planks. Crunches. 

But something was different. She had found it quite difficult yesterday to do the workouts, but today, as the morning left and the afternoon came, Juniper could feel much more sweat beading onto her forehead. She could feel her limbs going weaker with every push-up she did, with every time she attempted a plank. Every muscle became shaky and it was causing her to become slightly lightheaded. 

But Juniper kept going. Push ups. Crunches. Side planks. Chair dips on the bed. Anything that could build up her strength. But the shakiness kept getting worse, her limbs becoming weak with every push or pull, her entire being becoming dizzy. But Juniper kept going, she tried to push through. 

Until suddenly, she couldn't. In the middle of doing a push up, Juniper suddenly dropped to the floor as a sudden wave of nausea washed over her. Shivers went up and down her spine as the Hale woman pressed the back of her palm against her forehead, bringing it back to find it nearly soaked in sweat. 

Juniper let out a slight groan as she laid on the tiled floor. She, really, should have gone back up, to continue her push ups, but she couldn't seem to harness the energy to do so. The coolness of the tiles made her shudder and let out a sigh of relief at the same time and Juniper supposed she could rest for a bit. She had been going at it since the morning and it was well in the afternoon.

But a rest that was intended to be only a few minutes turned into one that lasted an hour. Every time Juniper tried to get up, she crashed back down onto the floor with a groan escaping her lips. Sweat drenched her and made the paper robe stick to her flesh, much like the jumpsuits in the Quell did. 

(And despite the white-hot sun, the air was warm and heavy with moisture, the thin fabrics of their jumpsuits clinging to them with sweat already)

"Come on." Juniper panted. "Don't be a wuss." 

She tried to get up, legs shaking, and felt her entire being tremble. But Juniper managed to get up on her two feet, standing for only a minute until suddenly, she felt another wave of nausea hit her. But this time, it didn't stay past her lips as whatever food that was left in Juniper's system from dinner yesterday was easily thrown up. Coughs and splatters echoed around the white room of hell and Juniper grimaced as she fell backwards onto the bed, curling up into a ball. 

The cold porridge was still there and Juniper felt her stomach grumble as she winced, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She could practically hear Clampitt laughing at her, feeling her eyes watching her through the security camera, but Juniper couldn't care less. She could feel her entire body going through chills after hours of exercises with her limbs and joints on fire.

"Now that's a disgusting sight..." 

Juniper peered up from her ball to see Clampitt in the middle of the open door, nose wrinkled up in disgust as she stared at the pile of vomit that laid in the centre of the room. Her glasses were perched on the bridge of her nose, dark hair done in an intricate braid, and her lab coat swished around her knees. There was a black tape in her hand. 

"Clampitt?" 

"Can someone come in and clean this, please?" Clampitt called out and within the next moment, a Peacekeeper came in with a sort of spray and wipe. Juniper didn't bother looking up, but she nearly gagged at the sudden smell of disinfectant. "That is really disgusting, Miss Hale." 

"My breakfast is cold..." Juniper grumbled, ignoring the woman's comment. The Peacekeeper left.

"Maybe because you've left it." Clampitt scowled as she eyed the untouched bowl of porridge. "What a waste..."

"No. It was cold when I got it," Juniper said. The doctor sat herself by her feet, eyeing her balled up position. "Freezing cold."

Clampitt merely hummed at the statement as if she knew and began to tap her fingertips against the black tape and chills ran up and down Juniper's spine as she did. She feared for what Clampitt was going to show her, for what she was going to say. And the doctor seemed to know this as she merely glanced at Juniper. 

"We aren't going to be looking at the Quell today," she said. Juniper moved so she could see the dark-haired woman properly. 

"Why not?" 

Clampitt shrugged as she said, "There is nothing more from the Quell that I want to show you. I have no more questions." 

"So why are you still showing me clips?" Juniper asked as she removed herself from her ball. Sweat still soaked her flesh as the paper robe clung to her skin. 

"Do you really want to stay in this room without entertainment?" Clampitt said. "I'm showing you these clips so you have something to do, something to look forward to." 

Juniper didn't and would never look forward to interactions with Dr. Clampitt. But that didn't stop the woman from pushing the tape into the player, the television crackling and popping. And as it did, Juniper swallowed a lump in her throat. If it wasn't the Quell, what would it be? She could feel more puke rising as the anticipation reached a level she could no longer stand. 

"Did anyone follow us?" Juniper froze at the sudden echo of a husky, rough voice, a voice she knew all too well, a voice that haunted her dreams. 

Wing. 

"No. Can't have," a soft, silky sound responded. Hermes. "Everyone else ran away." 

Juniper, feeling a gasp escape her lips, studied the screen. The shot showed a bushy clearing that was littered with piles of supplies that had come from the Cornucopia, Wing and Hermes from Six entering it with their bags from the Feast that were no longer as pristine when first presented. Mud and swamp water infested them and the tributes, but the food looked to still be intact as Juniper watched them sit down, opening the bags as they pulled out their roast dinner. 

"Three cannons..." Wing mumbled. Her faint black hair was out of its braid and the curls cascaded down her back. She had dark patches underneath her grey eyes. "There's seven left, right?" 

"Yeah." Hermes nodded. Juniper felt her gut twist. "Ten of us before the Feast. Three cannons. Seven left, five not including us." 

"So who?" Wing asked as she shovelled the roast meat into her mouth, grease getting all over her lips. "It has to be the girl from Ten, at least. And then probably the boy. And then I'm guessing it's the chick from Seven." 

"Cedar?" Hermes questioned. His sword laid next to him as he picked inside of his bag. "Perhaps... so it's the guy from Seven, the three Careers', and the emo from Eight." 

"Mhm." Wing nodded, content with their guesses, but suddenly, something changed in her eyes as she added, "Hermes... what if it's not?"

"Not what?"

"Not those three that died?" Wing suggested. "I mean — it has to be the boy from Ten because I saw the girl from Two stab him, but his twin got him out of there... you don't reckon... you know..." 

"What? She killed him?" Hermes asked. The cameras changed to show a shot of a young Juniper Hale crouching in a nearby bush, rage and insanity crossed across her face. The older Juniper, the one watching, flinched. "That's stupid, Wing. A sister wouldn't kill her brother... it has to be her, the boy, and Cedar."

"But what if it's not?" Wing kept questioning, stuffing her face full with potatoes. "Because I'm sure the Careers' ran away once Cedar and Ash did. And then a cannon went off, and then Ash ran away to where they went to, the two twins, and then a cannon went off. And then Cedar went to them and a cannon went off." 

"So you're saying Juniper Hale killed her brother and her two allies? I mean — it could be, but I highly doubt it." 

There was a silence between them as Wings kept looking over her shoulder, staring at the bush that seventeen-year-old Juniper was hiding. Twenty-year-old Juniper gritted her teeth as she watched the screen, feeling her heart thud with every passing second. Why was Clampitt showing her this? 

"Something's moving..." Wing whispered as she set her meal down. She reached over and picked up her daggers. "In the bushes... over there." 

"It's probably just another one of those stupid birds..." Hermes shrugged as he watched his counterpart slowly get up, walking towards the bush. 

"No... it's—" 

Before Wing could finish her sentence, she had stalked close enough to the bush and so, young Juniper Hale leaped up and swung her sword across. And the older Juniper winced and nearly gagged as she heard the cannon echo, as Wing's head went flying into the air before settling onto the muddy ground. 

"What?" Hermes yelled as he tossed his food aside, picking up his sword. Juniper could feel herself become sick again. 

"Turns out I'm not dead." 

Twenty-year-old Juniper tried to close her eyes, but she couldn't seem to as she watched her seventeen-year-old self fight with Hermes. The Hale girl's sword-fighting, back then, was filled with rage, causing her to swing clumsily and inaccurately whilst Hermes was calculated and strategic. The sound of blades clinking whenever they struck echoed around the bushy clearing and the white room of hell. 

"Is it true?" Hermes mumbled as their swords locked together. "Did you kill your brother and allies?" 

The girl hissed as she kicked at his knees, causing him to grunt as he bent down to hold it. It gave Juniper, on the screen, enough time to start bringing her sword down upon him, but Hermes managed to recover as he rolled away.

"Well, is it?" Hermes teased and when Juniper began panting, he added, "If you're so tired, then just give up! It's easy."

As the fight went on, Hermes was slowing down. He noticed the flaws in Juniper's technique. He noticed her rage and inability to think properly. And he looked scared. He was backing away. 

"Already giving up?" Juniper had huffed as she ceased trying. 

"There is no point." Hermes shrugged as he kicked Wing's head to the side. "You are sloppy and messy." 

"I really don't care." 

Hermes merely nodded as he eyed the girl, going to speak, but before he could, Juniper charged at him, sword raised high. But Hermes side-stepped her over, and over, and over for seemed like an eternity until the boy from Six stopped trying overall. Juniper, watching, bit her tongue until she was sure blood began seeping from it. 

Seventeen-year-old Juniper admitted defeat after Hermes side-stepped her once more. She dropped the sword from her grasp and massaged her palms, panting and sighing as she tried to get her breath back. Hermes raised a brow and seemed relaxed at the removal of her weapon. 

"I am sorry about your—" 

The television turned off when Juniper took his sword and stabbed Hermes in the abdomen. 

The Hale woman did not know what to say. She didn't know whether to cry or to be shocked that Clampitt even thought about showing Juniper a clip from her own Games. She must have known that the Victor had seen the footage from the Seventy-Second tens of times. The Capitol made sure to replay it for the next two Games that followed. But Juniper seeing it in the white room of hell, exhausted and hopeless, hurt her more harder than anything else could. She had killed Wing and Hermes and for what? A feeble attempt to move the blame of Justice's death to them? 

"I'm not going to ask you why you killed them..." Clampitt whispered. "That would be moronic. I just thought you should have seen that clip."

"Why...?"

"Well... I was going to ask why you think you killed those two tributes, but I think I'll let you decide by yourself without me as a distraction," Clampitt stated simply as she stood up from the bed. A Peacekeeper came in and wheeled the television out. 

Juniper didn't even look up, didn't even register that Clampitt had left until she jumped at the sound of the door banging shut. Why did she kill Wing and Hermes? That was a question that entered and quickly left her mind all the time. It was something everyone murmured. Why did Juniper Hale kill Wing and Hermes from Six?

The Hale woman tried to not think about it, trying to wipe away the sweat that beaded on her forehead. But every attempt caused every memory of Wing and Hermes to be stronger. She didn't know the two. She hadn't even spoken to them. So why did she kill them? 

("Oh, be real, Juniper." Dallas shook his head. "Cedar and Ash were too busy trying to save you two by holding the Careers' off... you killed Justice... you killed the other lot in some fit of rage, trying to make it like you're the victim... well, you're not.")

The victim. A feeble attempt to shift the blame of Justice's death off of her. To try and drown her guilt and sorrow by killing others. There would be multiple reasons why Juniper Hale killed Wing and Hermes. And Ash and Cedar. And Leona and Rayon. And Dallas. And Justice. 

Justice. 

She had killed Justice. 

Justice was dead. 

And what did Juniper try and do? She killed everyone else to hide her sorrow, her depression, to not face the fact that her twin was dead. She killed everyone else because Juniper Hale did not want to face the fact that she had murdered her brother. She killed everyone else because she wanted to blame them and not herself. 

Whatever it was, it was enough to have Juniper Hale bury herself underneath the quilts as she trembled. She couldn't train herself to be ready for an attempted escape. Escape was out of the question. Three weeks and a day. It had been three weeks and a day and yet nothing. Defeat filled Juniper as everything came crashing down, as she finally realised that this was it. She had been caught, she was in the Capitol. And there was no return. No escape. No rescue mission. No hope.

There was also no dinner that night.