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KILL FOR YOUR LOVE.

act three.

(chapter sixty-two, the sins of the father)

the cells, 75 ADD.

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PEETA MELLARK WAS DEAD. 

That was something, the next morning, that Juniper Hale and Johanna Mason had both agreed on with Annie Cresta nodding absentmindedly. Peeta Mellark had to be dead because he had not come back, his cell empty. About twenty-four-hours had passed and yet, he was still gone. 

Therefore, he was pronounced dead by the three other Victors'. 

Juniper didn't want to believe it, however. She didn't want Peeta Mellark to be dead. She needed him to be alive. She needed him to come back to his cell in a good state so she could mumble her apologies to him. And it looked as if Johanna didn't want to believe it either as she continued to stare at the metal doors, waiting for them to open and for two soldiers' to carry in his limp body.

But they never did. 

"Well... what should we do?" Johanna huffed to Juniper. "Do a memorial? Say a few words?" 

"He's probably not actually dead." Juniper rolled her eyes as she got up onto her feet, clutching her ribs gently. The pain was numbing.

"Firstly, it's been twenty-four-hours," Johanna began to point out. "And secondly, we've pronounced him dead so he's dead. Even Cresta agrees." 

The Hale woman looked over at Annie to see her nodding her head rapidly before saying, "She probably doesn't even know what you're saying. She'll nod her head at anything you say." 

"Probably," Johanna agreed. "But baker's boy is dead, I'm calling it... or, they're slowly moving us." 

"What?" 

"They're slowly moving us," Johanna said. "They've probably taken Peeta this week, then it'll be Annie the next, then you, then me." 

"And why would this happen?" 

"Because that's how they moved us into here," the woman explained. "It was me alone for the first week, then Peeta came, then Annie, and then you. It's only logical." 

"If you think so..." 

There were multiple things that could have happened to Peeta Mellark. He could be dead. He could have moved cells. He could be anywhere in any state. He could be with Clampitt. But Juniper sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She didn't want Peeta Mellark to be dead. She had spent the past year begging for his murder, but now when she didn't want him to be dead, he possibly could be. Why did nothing ever go her way? 

Still standing, Juniper looked over at Annie. It was true in that she would have no idea what any one of them were saying. She would just nod and nod if you spoke something and aimed it in her direction. Johanna could have been spitting insults at her in a kind voice and she would still nod absentmindedly. She was in her own world and would continue to be unless she and Finnick were reunited.

Reunited. 

The thought of that was slipping and slipping. Being reunited with those who Plutarch managed to get was becoming more like a dream than reality. It was something that Juniper couldn't see happening. It was so close to six weeks. So close to forty-two days. Well over a month. Rescue and reunion seemed to be more a myth than anything. 

But at the thought of rescue and reunion, Juniper immediately thought of her father. Where was he? It was a question that plagued her mind, terrorised her head. Was he dead? Or did Lucy get Plutarch to retrieve him? Was he with the rebels? Questions filled her as she thought to the grey stands in her father's hair, to his pained and exhausted face, to the wrinkles that caressed his skin. He was too much of a gentle man, too sensitive and caring for this world. Juniper felt her heart ache at the thought of him.

All he did was try. Orion Hale always tried. He tried to do his best for Juniper and Justice despite being a single father. He tried to keep their family together. He always tried to get back up into his feet, but the world always knocked him back down again. And now, he would be alone. He had no wife. He had no son. He had no daughter. Brent was dead. Lucy was with the rebels. He would be in Ten all alone, if he even was in the district. 

But then he could be dead. Snow could have killed him as a consequence for Juniper attacking Clampitt. He could have ended up like Nadine and Yara, whose corpses were supposedly rotting in some garbage chute since no-one would care for them. Or he could have been murdered the night the arena was destroyed. Anything was possible, just like anything could have happened to Peeta Mellark. 

"If he's gone, would they still take us out?" Juniper asked as she looked at Johanna, who was still peering at the metal doors. 

"No." Johanna shook her head. "They never take two out at the same time. They always leave people here with Annie... don't know why. It's not like she's going to speak." 

"Are you sure she hasn't spoken a word since she got here?" Juniper questioned. "Because if she hasn't, that's a long time for someone to stay quiet." 

"Ever since she's been in here, she hasn't spoken," the woman from Seven told her. "Of course, she's muttered to herself, but no-one can understand what the hell she's going on about." 

Juniper looked at the woman, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor again. Her eyes were widened slightly and she could have been thinking about anything, muttering about anything. But she was not hurt, she was not in pain. No-one had hit her and no-one had touched her. That was good. 

("Well... I realised I never told you exactly why Miss Cresta is in our possession," Clampitt murmured. Juniper felt her heart drop. "I feel like you have the right to know why... especially since it's your fault.")

A few hours passed and Juniper resigned to sitting against the wall of her cell, trying to ignore the rumbling of her stomach as she held her ribs. They were getting better. The pain was disappearing slightly and Juniper could breathe without getting shots of agony running up her, but the bruises born on her flesh still hurt with her head pounding. She was in pain still, but there was less of it. 

And everything was quiet. Too quiet. Annie had stopped muttering to herself and was glancing at the metal door. Johanna had given up and was laying down on the floor, curled into a ball with her eyes shut. Juniper stared at her as she did. She couldn't remember Johanna ever sleeping or trying to in the cells before and it was out of the ordinary for her, but Juniper didn't interrupt the woman. She looked exhausted and defeated and the Victor from Ten didn't want to add to that. 

But everything was silent. There was no noise. And whilst it was normally quiet within the cells, it was too still, too hushed. It was like something was waiting, that something was going to happen and was just ready to pounce at any moment. 

Juniper felt it first. 

She smelt it first. 

She could hear it first. 

She could feel his presence. She could smell the putrid sweetness of his roses. She could hear the sound of something clanging beyond the metal doors. It was him. She was certain it was him. Why was he here? Juniper only knew it was him because he had infected her house after his visit when she turned eighteen and his presence lingered long enough for her to feel it. 

"Johanna..." Juniper whispered as she reached her skinny arm through the bars, roughly shaking the woman awake. 

"What?" Johanna snapped harshly. "I just went to sleep, Hale. What is so—?" 

She could feel it too. She could smell it too. She could hear it too. His presence. His stench. The clanging. And she blanched. She blanched and nearly doubled-over as she began to gag slightly. He was here.

"If that's him, Hale... I'm done," Johanna murmured as she slowly got up, walking to the cell door, and wrapping her hands around the bars. "They can kill me all they want." 

The clanging continued and even caused Annie to perk up. But suddenly, without warning, the metal doors swung open with a bang and all of the women jumped. And in the doorway, he was there. 

The small, thin man with paper-white hair and thick lips that was called President Coriolanus Snow stood in the doorway with two Peacekeepers' by his side. His clothing was elegant with his expensive suit and fur stole that hung over his shoulder. And he wore a single, white rose in his lapel. Both Juniper and Johanna gagged as Annie let out a sudden cry, quickly curling into a ball in the corner of her cell. 

"Miss Mason... Miss Hale... Miss Cresta..." Snow greeted as he walked further into the area. His stench strangled them all. "Why... don't you all look lovely?" 

None of them responded as both Juniper and Johanna narrowed their eyes at him. He passed Peeta's cell, and then the woman from Seven's, and stopped directly in-front of the Victor of the Seventy-Second's. His plump lips twisted into a wicked smile. Clampitt was behind him. 

"Miss Hale, how are you?" Snow asked. Juniper clenched her jaw, but did not back away. "You already know Dr. Clampitt, of course." 

"Of course." Juniper sneered, but the dark-haired doctor remained silent. 

"I don't wish to take up most of your time, Miss Hale," the snake-like man told her. He was completely ignoring Johanna and Annie. "But I do need to speak with you."

"Oh, really?" Juniper muttered. "Here in the cells?"

"Yes, here in the cells," Snow said. "Miss Hale... do you remember your mother?"

The question caught Juniper off guard. Did she remember her mother? Of course she didn't. She didn't know her name, didn't remember her face, didn't know who she was. All she knew was that her mother died when she and Justice were very young and that Orion Hale would never mutter a word about her. 

"No." Juniper scoffed as she looked towards Johanna. She was backed away, but was staring right at her with a raised brow. "Why?" 

"Well... I knew your mother, Miss Hale." Snow smiled. "She was a beautiful woman. In fact, you are the spitting image of her. And she was intelligent, caring, and bold. But also very naive." 

"And I need to know this why?" Juniper asked. Confusion washed over her, but she didn't let it affect her. How did Snow know her mother? 

"I just wanted to see what you knew about her. It looks like Orion never told you about your mother," Snow commented. A Peacekeeper came through the open metal doors, rolling in a trolley with the same modernised television on it. "Oh, yes, I knew your father as well... he was also naive." 

Juniper remained silent as the television was moved to be in-front of her, Snow standing behind it with Clampitt by his side. Peacekeepers' littered the walkway, their weapons at the ready if anything were to happen.

"Why do you think you and your brother were Reaped, Miss Hale?"

The Victor froze as she stared into Snow's venomous eyes. Why did she think her and Justice were Reaped? It was because of Nadine, because she had chosen both of their names. It was an impossible event, but it happened. And Justice was dead because of it. Why did Snow care? 

Juniper looked at Johanna, who just shrugged, before scoffing, saying, "Because our escort, which you killed, chose us." 

"Yes... Mrs. Groves did choose you and Justice, the poor boy," Snow drawled. "But there is a reason for that, Miss Hale..."

"What?"

"Did you actually think you and your brother were chosen by luck?" Snow questioned. "That is impossible, even I have to say. And there were no twins in the Sixty-Sixth. They merely looked alike. They weren't related. Rumours just floated. No... you and your brother were chosen for a reason." 

Juniper could feel the sweat beading onto her forehead, feel herself gag slightly, become faint as she tried to process his words. Chosen for a reason? What reason? Juniper and Justice Hale can't have done anything to make Snow enraged at that time, just seventeen-years-old, so what reason were they chosen for? Or was Snow just messing with her? 

"Many years ago, Miss Hale, there were whispers of rebellion within some certain districts, mainly District Ten," President Snow explained and Juniper found herself latching onto every word. "Some citizens thought it would be... bold... to form multiple rebel cells... two members of those cells were your mother and father. Olsen and Orion." 

"Oh, please." Juniper couldn't help but chuckle. "My father in a rebel cell? I'll imagine that when the cows start flying." 

Snow narrowed his eyes at the woman, but continued his story, saying, "Now, they thought they would never get caught. They began to gather up some of the other districts. Outlier ones. And they thought they could... overthrow the Capitol with enough power... but of course, they were caught. More specifically, your mother and father were caught in an act of treason." 

"And you what? Warned them with a fine or something?" Juniper asked with a smile. She was not believing a single word Snow was saying. He grabbed ahold of attention with the mention of her and Justice being chosen for a reason, but him saying her father was part of a rebel cell years ago was preposterous.

"No, Miss Hale." Snow shook his head. "They committed treason to their country, they committed treason to the Capitol... so they had to be punished. Do you wonder why your mother is dead?" 

"Not really." 

"She's dead because I ordered her dead," Snow told her, his tone serious. Annie whimpered in the corner. "And I had to punish your father... and so what's better than take away his children?" 

Juniper clenched her jaw. She wasn't going to believe a word President Snow was saying. It was ridiculous. But her mother was dead. Orion Hale never said why or how she was dead. The twins simply grew up without a mother.

"I warned him, Miss Hale, I really did," Snow said. "And I never warn people... I told Orion Hale you would be next. That you and your brother would both be chosen. But he didn't believe me... not even when I sent him a letter the morning of the Reaping, telling him that all the slips in the bowls were filled with yours and Justice Hale's names. I warned him to run... but he didn't. He stayed in Ten and he watched your Reaping like a fool."

"Really?" Juniper asked, her voice cracking. "I don't believe that..."

"When I visited you, we agreed to not lie to each other. It would make things much simpler if we only told the facts." 

("Can we agree to not lie to each other, Miss Hale? If I do not lie, you do not lie. It will make things much simpler and much more understandable.") 

Snow, when he visited Juniper soon after her eighteenth birthday, had struck a deal with her to not lie. He was a straight-to-the-point man who did not like lies. He wanted everyone to understand what he was saying and lies got in the way of it. But Juniper couldn't help but scoff. It couldn't be true. It was too ridiculous to be true. Orion Hale wasn't part of a rebel cell. Snow did not send a letter, warning Orion about his children being next. The man was just saying that to get into her head. But Clampitt was nodding next to him. 

"I don't believe you," Juniper said, trying to stand up straight. "Why should I? You've locked me in this cell." 

"You should believe me because we made a deal to never lie to each other," Snow murmured. "But if you don't believe me... watch this, Miss Hale." 

The old, frail man picked up the remote on the trolley and stared at it before pushing a button, aiming it at the television. And there was no seal, no anthem. It went straight to view what looked to be security footage. There was a time and date stamp at the bottom left as well as District Ten in the right. The security footage showed a wooden table with two chairs, which were empty. It looked to be a basement. 

Juniper's eyes were latched onto it as two figures with bags over their heads were pushed into the shot. One was a woman with a skinny and short build whilst the other, a man, was stocky and looked to be muscular. The Hale woman clenched her jaw as another person came into view, wearing the most elegant suit with a white rose in the lapel. Snow. 

"Take the bags off," he had commanded. He sounded younger with his voice more silky and powerful. Juniper could barely see him in the shot. It was focused on the two beings in the chairs. 

And as two gloved hands came forwards to rip the bags off of the prisoners' heads, Juniper narrowed her eyes when the face of the woman came into the light. She looked completely identical to Juniper. Same face shape, same eyes, same nose, same fiery look as she stared up at Snow. That must have been Olsen. Her mother. 

But then Juniper nearly puked when the man's bag came off his head because the younger face of Orion Hale appeared. It was not infected with wrinkles. There was no dark patches underneath his eyes. There were no grey stands within his hair. He was solid, determined, and filled with fire as he narrowed his eyes up at a younger Snow. That was her father years ago. Juniper knew it was her father as she could spot him a mile away, but why was he there? Why was he with Snow?

"Orion, Olsen..." Snow's younger voice slithered out as he crossed his hands in-front of him. "You know why you're here." 

"No, we don't." Olsen had scoffed. She even sounded like Juniper. "Do tell us why, President Snow." 

(And some, in the Milking Station, would whisper that she looked too much like Olsen Hale, someone Juniper never knew and wouldn't ask her father about. She gathered that, whoever it was, had been part of the family and was the cause of Orion's nightmares)

"You're here because of your acts of treason," Snow had explained to them. "Because of your naivety in that you wouldn't be caught." 

"Caught doing what?" Orion had snapped. His voice was powerful and was not filled with pain or exhaustion like it was now. "Doing the right thing?" 

"If your right thing entails whipping up some rebel lowlifes in attempts of rebellion, then yes." Snow had nodded. "You know, Orion, Olsen, I do not condone that." 

"Of course you don't." Olsen had rolled her eyes. "Why would you? You like your power too much to have it overtaken by some rebel lowlifes." 

"It's not the matter of if I like my power, Mrs. Hale," Snow had snapped. "It's the matter of citizens going out of control because they yearn for more. Because they are greedy." 

"Greedy?" Orion had scoffed. "Greedy? Wanting to not have a life filled with poverty is greedy?" 

"The Capitol gives you everything, Orion. Food, protection, a roof over your head," Snow had told them "And you take advantage of that with some pathetic dreams... you have to be punished for it." 

"What are you going to do, Coriolanus?" Olsen had sneered. "Cut out our tongues?" 

"That would have been a good idea," Snow had murmured. "But no. Your punishment is this." 

He had nodded to someone out of the camera's view and just as Orion went to go say something, a loud explosion echoed around the room as a bullet fired into the back of Olsen Hale's head, causing blood and brain to splatter everywhere as she lolled downwards, lifeless. Juniper winced slightly. 

"That is her punishment," Snow had said as he wiped some blood off of his cheek. It stained his white gloves. Orion seemed destroyed as he stared from his wife's dead body and then to Snow. He looked terrified and disgusted. "Your punishment, Orion, is something you can avoid." 

"Avoid?" Orion had cried out, voice filled with pain. It sounded so much like it did now. "You just... Ols... avoid?" 

"You have two children. Infant twins, am I correct?" Snow had questioned, but he already knew considering he didn't wait for an answer. "They will be chosen once the time is right for the Reaping. Your daughter's name will be called and then your son's for the same year. They will become tributes and die... but you can avoid this. I will warn you the morning it is to happen. You can run or you can stay. But your children being picked in the Reaping is your avoidable punishment."

Once the younger Snow finished his sentence, the television turned off and Juniper could feel herself backing away. She didn't want to believe that. She couldn't believe it. It was a trick. Snow had just had some technicians from Three to whip up that fake recording. It never happened... but it seemed so real.

"Your father did not avoid his punishment, Miss Hale," the older Snow explained. Juniper could feel her back pressed up against the wall of the cell as she felt her eyebrows be knitted together, lip trembling. That wasn't real. It wasn't real. "I warned him the morning of the Seventy-Second Reaping. I sent him a letter that explicitly explained that you and your brother were to be chosen that year, but he did not heed my warning." 

"I don't... I don't believe you."

"Why not?" Snow asked. "We made a deal to never lie to each other. I've shown you the security footage. This is real. Your father could have saved you and your brother, but he didn't because he was naive and foolish. But, of course, he never expected you to win. That's why he couldn't look at you. Because he regretted not running away. And he knew he killed your brother."

It wasn't true. It couldn't be true. Orion Hale was never part of a rebel cell. He couldn't have been. And he never got a warning, a letter from Snow, if he did, Juniper would have— 

(But the sigh of relief turned into one of confusion as she walked further into the makeshift house, seeing her father sat in a small chair next to a boarded window, peering through the cracks gently as a piece of paper was crumpled up in his grasp)

(His grip on the paper became tighter, but the girl didn't question it)

("June, no," her father told her harshly, lifting up her head and grasping her cheeks with his big hands. "Don't you dare apologise... this is Snow's fault. This is my fault.")

(But he was riddled with guilt and regret)

(He couldn't look at Juniper without wincing. Every time he looked at her, he felt nauseous. He had to look away whenever he glanced at her eyes)

("I know that." Seneca raised his hands defensively. "But Snow won't say yes. I mean — he's crazy over this girl! All he talked about was the Hale twins and when the boy died, her. He won't say yes to this, trust me.")

("Can we agree to not lie to each other, Miss Hale? If I do not lie, you do not lie. It will make things much simpler and much more understandable.") 

Juniper's lips parted slightly as sudden realisation came crashing over her. It was like a tsunami drowned her. It was like a freight train came speeding into her. It was like everything she had known was a lie. But it couldn't be true. It wasn't true. It couldn't be. Orion Hale couldn't look at Juniper because he was mourning over Justice. That paper was just a scrap piece from something. He only blamed Snow and him because he didn't want to believe it. 

But Snow and her made a deal to never lie.

And she knew faking security footage was difficult and Beetee would  never do such a thing. It had all the perfect dates. It had Snow when he was younger. It had Orion Hale when he was younger. It had Olsen Hale, who was her mother, when she was younger and when she was killed.

But Orion Hale wouldn't do that. If he was warned about Juniper and Justice being chosen, he would have ran. He would have left the district immediately. He would have. He had lost his wife, he couldn't bear lose his children. 

But having twins picked for the same year, to have the same blood and name in the arena was impossible. It never happened before except for the Sixty-Sixth... but Snow said those two were never twins. They just looked alike and that rumours floated around. Twins being picked were impossible unless the Reaping was rigged. 

Unless. 

"No..." Juniper whispered. "If what you're saying is true... my father would have ran. He wouldn't have stayed." 

"But he didn't." Snow shook his head. "He probably didn't think it was true. Probably didn't think of the warning to be legitimate, for it to be blackmail. Orion was always so foolish... but answer me this, Miss Hale, is it possible for twins to be Reaped in the same year?"

"No..."

"Then there you go," Snow murmured. "I do wish your father had ran, but he was too foolish and naive. If you want to blame someone for your Reaping and the death of your brother, blame your father." 

With that, Snow nodded at Clampitt and the Peacekeepers and walked out of the area with the television being rolled away closely behind him. When the metal doors slammed shut, Juniper felt her legs give way and she tumbled to the floor. 

It wasn't true. Snow was just messing with her. He just wanted her to believe something that wasn't true. But President Snow never lied. They had struck a deal. And Orion Hale was holding a letter the morning of the Reaping. He was deep in thought. He did blame Snow and himself for the choosing. He couldn't look Juniper in the eyes after the Games. He had nightmares. And she never knew her mother, for her father wouldn't dream of mentioning her or how she died. 

But it couldn't be true. It couldn't be. 

"Hale..." Johanna tried to whisper, but Juniper ignored her. 

Juniper, for the past three-years, had thought her and Justice were Reaped because they were unlucky, because Nadine Groves had terrible picking skills. But she should have known. It was impossible to pick twins out of those glass bowls at the same time unless the Reaping was rigged. Unless there was a reason. 

But he would have ran. Orion Hale would have ran. He wouldn't have stayed. Orion Hale would never have done such a thing. Juniper was sure about it. Orion Hale could never be the cause of such pain. He was too filled with his own agony to do such a thing. He was too quiet. Too filled with sorrow. Too caring. Too sensitive. Too filled with melancholy. Orion Hale wouldn't do such a thing. 

But he had the letter in his hand. He said it was his and Snow's fault. He couldn't look her in the eye. He was filled with guilt and regret, so much so that Juniper could sniff it off of him. And he was always nervous whenever the twins did anything reckless that could have gotten them in trouble with the officials. 

But it couldn't be true. 

⇢ ˗ˏˋ matz 🎧 !

— i edited this whilst on anaesthetic and with a big fat ass gauze in my mouth so excuse any mistakes 

also this had me in stitches for AGES and proves i get bored so easily