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KILL FOR YOUR LOVE.

act three. 

(chapter sixty-three, and, oh, did it work)

the cells / seclusion, 75 ADD.

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JUNIPER WENT OVER EVERY single detail of her life before and after the Games. She recalled every conversation she had with her father. She tried to remember every little action he had done. Every look. Every word. Everything. Because it couldn't be true. It wasn't true. She had to find something that showed it wasn't true. 

(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)

("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.")  

But nothing worked.

Orion Hale was holding a piece of paper tightly the morning of the Reaping. He was always so worried when the twins did something reckless, something that could have gotten them in trouble with the officials. He had said it was Snow's fault that they were chosen, that it was his fault. He never spoke about their mother. He couldn't even look at her because of the guilt and regret that so obviously filled him. And there had to be a reason that the man was filled with sorrow and pain, even before the Seventy-Second Reaping. 

But it wasn't true. It couldn't be. 

This was just Snow trying to get into her head, to turn against her own family. But why would Snow do that? Why would he tell her that? He must have known that Juniper blamed herself for Justice's death, so why shift it to someone else? Wouldn't he still want Juniper to blame herself? Instead, he was telling her to take that weight off of her shoulders, to place it on Orion Hale's.

Why would he do that? 

Juniper was curled in the corner of her cell, brows furrowed together tightly as she felt a war rage inside her head. She was going through every single detail of her life, every bit of everything she had ever known. She shouldn't have let Snow's word affect her, but it had caused a whirlpool in her mind. That security footage seemed so real and all of the other factors seemed to indicate that Snow was telling the truth. But it just couldn't be.

The woman from Seven was pacing around her cell with an obvious limp. She was eyeing the metal door and Juniper with her jaw clenched. Johanna had tried to speak to the Victor from Ten to no success and deathly silence washed over them. Something in the air was different. Whether it was because of Snow's visit or because of something else, they had no idea. 

Annie had moved to sit in the centre of her cell, knees buried up into her chest. She had stopped muttering nonsense and seemed to be eyeing the metal door as well with Johanna. Peeta's cell was still empty. 

(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)

("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.")

Whatever piece of paper Orion Hale had held the morning of the Reaping, three-years-ago, it seemed to be important. He didn't let it go, even when Juniper hugged him. He still held onto it so it must have been important. And he was off that day. But he was off every day. But why? What would cause him such grief prior to Justice's death? 

And he couldn't look at Juniper. She always just thought it was because he blamed her, that he was just mourning the loss of his son. But what if he couldn't look at Juniper because he knew he was the cause of all of it? What if he couldn't look at her because the guilt was becoming too much, he couldn't even stare into her face? What if he regretted not running away? 

But no. If Orion Hale was warned about the Reaping, he would have ran away. If he was part of some rebel cell, if Olsen Hale died because of Snow, Orion would have known that the president was not joking around. But what if he didn't believe it? What if he didn't believe the warning just like Juniper didn't believe Snow right now? 

"Something is different..." Johanna murmured. 

"You don't say?" Juniper muttered from her tight ball. It couldn't be true. It wasn't true. Orion Hale would never do such a thing. 

"I do say." Johanna sighed. "Something's different... something's happened... did you see how pissed Snow was?" 

"I was too busy thinking if my Reaping was rigged to notice." 

Johanna took in a deep breath as she stared at Juniper's form. And from where the Hale woman was curled up in her ball, she could slightly see Johanna's face. It was twisted with pain, exhaustion, and there was no sigh of hope. She had given up. Juniper had given up. Annie had given up ages ago. The inevitable seemed to crash down upon them. 

"Well... I'm done." Johanna groaned as she went to sit against the wall of her cell. "I'm pretty sure it's the sixth week now... no-one's coming and we're going to have to accept that." 

"So much for Plutarch getting us out of there..." Juniper whispered. 

"Yeah." Johanna scoffed. "So much for that." 

A few hours must have passed since the woman from Seven had her eyes closed, fast asleep, and Annie was silently weeping in the corner of her cell. The only one awake and not crying was Juniper. She had too much on her mind. 

It couldn't be true. It just couldn't be. Juniper Hale had a very specific view on her father and she couldn't allow President Coriolanus Snow to come in and destroy that image. She had grown up knowing exactly who her father was. She couldn't let that be destroyed. But he was holding a letter the morning of the Reaping. Snow did strike a deal with Juniper to never lie. Orion did blame himself for the Reaping. Olsen Hale was dead. The security footage seemed real. 

Was the Seventy-Second Reaping rigged?

If it was, that brought question after question into Juniper's mind. Was Orion Hale who she thought he was? Was Justice's death not her fault? Was all of this because of Orion Hale? The Seventy-Second? The Quarter Quell? Her captivity? If Orion Hale had just ran, if it was true, then none of this would have happened. Justice would still be alive. Juniper never would have won the Games. She wouldn't have been Reaped for the Quell. She wouldn't have been caught by the Capitol. 

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

Suddenly, there was a loud banging noise outside of the metal doors. Thudding. Pounding. Hurried footsteps. Whatever it was, it caused all three women to slowly stand up and go to the doors of their cells. Through the little windows embedded in the metal doors, Juniper could slightly see doctors running around everywhere. What was happening? 

"Well... that's not normal," Johanna murmured, hands wrapped around the bars. She was looking through the windows as well. 

"What the hell is happening?" Juniper questioned. 

Some time passed and the doctors were still running around in the laboratory. And whilst it seemed to die down, the metal doors suddenly blew open and Clampitt came storming in with three Peacekeepers' behind her. She didn't look happy. 

"Don't struggle, don't try to escape, you'll make it worse than it actually is," Clampitt said to the trio Victors', eyes narrowed through her glasses. "You know what to do." 

The doctor nodded to the three Peacekeepers' and they began to head to the cells. Each one had a golden, shiny key and inserted them into all the locks, turning it to open the cell doors. Juniper could feel her heart rate skyrocket as she felt the Peacekeeper take ahold of her bicep roughly, grasping her. And as the Hale woman looked around, the other two did the exact same thing to Johanna and Annie. 

What were they doing? 

Juniper could feel bruises being born into her flesh as Johanna's grunts bounced off of the walls, Annie's whimpers settling into everyone's ears. But Clampitt ignored all of their struggling as she began to walk to the door that was to the left. Juniper had noticed it when she first arrived at the cells, but didn't think much of it. But now, the dark-haired doctor with glasses was going towards it, flashing a card to the device on the wall. It beeped and blared green as the doors began to open. 

"Get off of me!" Johanna roared and Juniper felt herself wince. 

And whilst the woman from Seven was content in trying to kick her way out of the soldier's grasp, Juniper was more focused on what was beyond the other door. It was a large room lined with multiple double doors. They were made of privacy glass so no-one could see in or out of it. However, Juniper could see the vague outline of someone through the door at the end of the large room. 

But what sickened her most was that, as the Peacekeepers' began to push them through into the room harshly, Juniper realised the privacy glass doors led into tiny, small rooms. Much like cells, but without the bars. It was simply rooms. 

"Clampitt!" Juniper managed to call out to the woman who was leading the procession. "What's going on?"

"You are being moved," she said simply. "These rooms are more beneficial than cells and more secluded... you won't be holding anyone's hand in these, Miss Hale." 

Juniper felt herself nearly puke as she watched the doctor nod to the three Peacekeepers'. Johanna was still thrashing around, trying to get out of their grasp whilst Annie was loudly sobbing. But Juniper turned her attention to her Peacekeeper, seeing him put in a code into a device that was on one of the privacy glass doors, letting it open before pushing her into the room. 

But as Juniper quickly turned around to see Johanna and Annie, the door slid shut and she couldn't see out of the glass. She could feel herself beginning to pant, beginning to shake as she could still hear Clampitt's order ringing around the area, Annie's cries, Johanna's grunts. But Juniper couldn't see out of the door. 

Looking around rapidly, the Hale woman tried to find something, anything to help her escape the room, but she realised there was nothing in there to assist her. It was completely empty with white tiled floors and walls. There was no bed and no table. It looked like the identical twin to the room where Nadine and Yara were shot, but much, much smaller and compacted. 

Nadine and Yara. 

They were killed in a room much like this, just larger. Was Clampitt going to kill Juniper? Was she going to kill Johanna? Or Annie? And was the figure in the room down the hall Peeta? Juniper didn't get a good glance at them, but it had to be Peeta. It wouldn't be Enobaria since Johanna said she was probably in Snow's mansion. 

But why move the four Victors'? Something must have happened. Did they move them to a more secluded, harder-to-get-into rooms because they feared the rebels would come get them soon? Or was the Capitol failing in squashing the rebellion and had to move their most prized possessions? Juniper had no idea. 

The only idea she had was that she was alone again. There was no Johanna. There was no Annie. There was no Peeta. She was alone in the small, tight room with a glass door she couldn't even look out of. She was alone and so, with complete fear and terror filling her up, Juniper sank to the floor as tears threatened to spill. 

(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)

("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.")

It wasn't true. It couldn't be true. Orion Hale wouldn't do such a thing. He wouldn't. He would do anything to protect his children, even if that meant running away. But he wasn't involved in a rebel cell. The idea was laughable, idiotic. Orion Hale was not a tough man. He wouldn't think of gathering up rebels if it meant harming his family. He just wouldn't do it. 

Juniper, against her will, began to burst into tears as she curled into the corner of the small room, hands over her ears. Her cries echoed around as tears rapidly fell down her cheeks. She could feel herself hiccuping on her sobs, choking on thin air, but she couldn't seem to stop. What had she done to deserve this? 

She didn't deserve to be in the small, secluded room. She didn't deserve to be put into the white room of hell. She didn't deserve to be put into the cells. She didn't deserve to be beaten, harassed with clips of her past. She didn't deserve to have Yara and Nadine shot in-front of her. She didn't deserve to have the image of her father, the image she had always known, be ripped away from her. 

But did she deserve it? After all she had done, perhaps she did deserve it. She had killed Gloss with Cashmere Nicholo seeing. Her hand did slip and caused Blight's death. She did kill Wing and Hermes. She could have saved the girl from Three in the Seventy-Second. She killed Dallas and Rayon. She slit Leona's throat. She slaughtered Cedar and Ash. It was her fault that Peeta and Annie were in the Capitol. She cursed all of her tributes. She should have done it. 

All of these things came rushing back to her as she wept horribly. Maybe she did deserve all of this. She had a slither of comfort with Johanna Mason, of all people, and even that was taken away from her. Maybe she didn't deserve affection or the assurance that not everything was her fault. 

("Juniper, stop it!" Johanna snapped. "That's not your fault so stop thinking it is. Those two didn't die because of you, aye? Clampitt gave the order, not you. She killed them, not you. Stop thinking everything is your fault.")

("Look, I don't know what she says to you, but none of it is actually true." Johanna shook her head, looking away. Only if she knew. "By the sounds of it, she's trying to get into your head. She is a head doctor, after all.")

Johanna was so adamant that everything Clampitt was saying was a lie, that not everything was Juniper's fault. But Johanna Mason didn't know Juniper Hale. She had no idea what she had done. She had no idea what Clampitt was saying. But Juniper did and she knew that it was all her fault. She was the cause of it. 

But was she? 

If Snow was telling the truth about Orion Hale, about him knowing the Reaping was rigged, then wouldn't it all be his fault? If it was true, if, then it would be all Orion Hale's fault. If he had just ran, Juniper wouldn't have been Reaped into the Seventy-Second. She wouldn't have killed Cedar, Ash, Wing, Hermes, Rayon, Leona, and Dallas. She wouldn't have won. And if she didn't win and if she wasn't Reaped, she wouldn't have cursed her tributes. And if she hadn't become a Victor, she wouldn't have been picked for the Quell. And she wouldn't have killed Gloss. And she wouldn't have let her hand slip from Blight's. It would have been all of Orion Hale's fault. 

But it wasn't true. 

The tears didn't stop, not even when an hour passed. Juniper was still curled in the corner of the room, silently weeping. Everything and everyone was crashing down upon her. It strangled her so much, she didn't even realise that the door had slid open. 

"Miss Hale." 

Juniper looked up to Dr. Clampitt in-front of her, the door sliding shut. Her hair was done up in a rushed bun at the nape of her neck. Her lab coat was slightly creased. Her glasses were down on the tip of her nose. She held no black tape, no audio device, and no clipboard. Juniper had to raise a brow when she saw Clampitt sitting down, leaning against the wall. The woman took her glasses off and pinched the bridge of her nose. 

"Well... look at this." Clampitt chuckled as she wiped her eyes. "You have to admit... this is better than the cells." 

"Is it true?" Juniper asked in a quiet, hushed voice. Her vision was blurry from the tears. 

Clampitt stared at her for a while before nodding, saying, "Yes... it's true. Your father knew about the Reaping being rigged and he was warned... but he didn't run..."

"Why don't I believe you?" 

"It's normal not to," Clampitt assured her. "You've grown up with a very specific image of who your father is... to have it destroyed in an instant... I don't expect you to believe anything we say about Orion Hale... but it is true."

It couldn't be. Juniper was not believing it. She couldn't believe it. She didn't want to. Clampitt was right. She had grown up with a very specific image of who her father was. She couldn't just give that up despite all the evidence and factors. It was her father. It was Orion Hale. 

"But that's not why I'm here," Clampitt said. "I'm here to explain to you... what your punishment was." 

"My punishment?" Juniper asked, trying to wipe away some of the tears that still ran down from her eyes. 

"Yes, your punishment. Miss Mason's was being electrocuted in water. Mr. Mellark's... well, you'll find out eventually. And Miss Cresta's was being away from Mr. Odair," Clampitt explained. "But yours... my task, your punishment, was to break you." 

"Break me?"

"To destroy the stubbornness, the fire, the anger within you," Clampitt told her. "My task was to break you... to have you drown in your own guilt, sorrow, and regret. And I did this with clips, with audio tapes, anything to make you break... it's psychological torture. I've stripped away the Victor of the Seventy-Second, the girl who just snapped, the twin-killer... and as a result, you are this." 

She gestured to Juniper's weeping state. 

"And, once the rebels find you, it's to show that we are more powerful than them." Clampitt nodded. "That we managed to destroy one of the mightiest fighters... and I think I did a pretty good job." 

Juniper tried to take in deep breaths as she felt more tears drop down onto her cheek as she asked, "So... none of it was my fault? You were just saying it was?" 

"Oh, no, it was all your fault." Clampitt scoffed slightly. "Of course it was all your fault... I just merely showed you and made you realise. But you already knew... you just needed someone to shove you in the right direction." 

"So it was... psychological torture?" 

"It was psychological torture... and, oh, did it work."

⇢ ˗ˏˋ matz 🎧 !

— now i have a timeline of their captivity, but it's very rough. i've put it so they've been in the capitol for six weeks and a bit, which is well over a month so forty-five days (by the time they're rescued)? idk, but its a fanfic so who honestly gives a toss. 

also the descriptions of the cells, the lab, and the little rooms may be a bit confusing, but they're taken based on the areas shown in the movie when they go to rescue the victors'. i can't screenshot them, but they are shown at these times in the mockingjay movie p1. 

the lab — 1:37:06

the cells — 1:39:31

the secluded rooms — 1:40:16