▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

KILL FOR YOUR LOVE.

act three.

(chapter eighty-two, in. out. in. out. in. out.)

the presidential mansion, 75 ADD.

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

JUNIPER WAS GIVEN A room in the presidential mansion to herself and she immediately felt uneasy. The bedroom was too extravagant, too grandeur that it must have held secrets. The bed was slightly too perfect with its mahogany frame and its embroidered sheets. The chair in the corner looked too fine with the intricate details carved in the arm and backrests. The carpet was too finely sewn and placed in the centre of the area. And even the bathroom was too clean, too perfect. It was like the bedroom was holding a facade, this magnificent edition of itself only to hold the most gruesome memories, the most terrible secrets. 

And not only did Juniper Hale feel uneasy about staying in that bedroom, she felt sick to her stomach about residing in the presidential mansion. Snow had lived there, eaten there, partied there, killed there. Who knew how many associates of his had been murdered in the rooms of the house? Who knew what horrible things happened here? 

("Yes." Peeta nodded. "Yes, they did. Yesterday. Snow made me watch it. He's talking about making me do another one... but I've heard things, Juniper. In the mansion. Rumours about the rebels.")

The Hale woman took a deep breath as she sat upright in the ginormous bed, her body feeling weighed down by the embroidered sheets. When she had been given a room to stay in, she did not wander around the mansion like Johanna did. She went to sleep immediately, though her sleep consisted of tossing and turning.

But now, the morning sun beamed through the window, its rays dancing over the old furniture, waltzing its way to Juniper's face as she squinted her eyes. Now that the sun was out, she could have a better view outside and so, tossing her legs over the side of the bed and standing up, she crossed over to the window.

The snow caressed the outer world. Flakes flew down softly from the blue sky, nestling their way into the branches of the trees and bushes, causing a carpet of white on the grass. Birds flew by every now and then, lounging on the window sill or soaring high. 

Everything looked peaceful. 

Juniper sucked in a deep breath, closing her eyes slightly. Whilst everything looked peaceful, the bad feeling that had stitched itself deep into the layers of the Hale woman's being did not disappear. It did not unravel itself away from her. It was still there, beating, thudding. The bad feeling did not go away. 

Finnick was dead. Finnick was dead. Finnick was dead.

Annie was pregnant. Annie was pregnant. Annie was pregnant.

("I will." Finnick smiled softly before kissing her right cheek, her left cheek, and her forehead. "I love you. I love you. I love you.")

("I can't... why did he have to die? I can't raise a kid by myself!")

The Victor from Ten felt a trail of wetness go down her cheek, but she didn't have the energy to wipe it away. Finnick was dead. He was gone and he was never coming back. But why him? Out of everyone in Squad Four-Five-One, why did Finnick Odair have to die? Why did he have to leave?

("You're going to be okay... you're going to be all right... you'll live on, June... just win...")

("... how did you find out about that?")

Gasping, Juniper bolted back from the window as she aggressively wiped her tears away. Her shattered heart was throbbing on the floor whilst her hollow head stung with pain. It was like her airways were contracting as it suddenly became harder to breathe.

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

In. In. Out. Out. 

In. In. Out. Out. 

In. In. Out. Out. 

When the Hale woman walked backwards, she bumped into the frame of the bed, the wood feeling like it had burned her skin. In doing so, Juniper hurried over to the door. She opened it, rushed out of the room, and slammed it behind her. Suddenly, her airways were beginning to open up again. 

Panting as she leaned against the wall, Juniper looked around. It was a long hallway that was rowed with multiple doors that all appeared to be the same. There was a corner at the end of the corridor to her right, voices emitting around. The Hale woman felt her shattered heart tense as well as her hollow brain. 

"They're both in the burn unit. Burned real bad." 

"Poor kids... have you gone to see them?"

"Yeah, this morning... have you spoken to the officials yet?" 

"I have and as expected, Coin leads Panem now." 

"And Snow?" 

"Prisoner and awaiting trial..." 

The voices drifted off as Juniper got a glimpse of Haymitch Abernathy and Lucy Stevens going down a different hall, both rid of the grey jumpsuits that Thirteen distributed. And as their figures disappeared, Juniper furrowed her brows. 

Coin was leading Panem now. Snow was prisoner and awaiting trial. Juniper could only clench her jaw. It certainly sounded like the war was over, but why didn't it feel like it? It felt like fighting was still going on, that people should still be dying. Why didn't the war feel like it was over? 

Finnick was dead. Finnick was dead. Finnick was dead.

Annie was pregnant. Annie was pregnant. Annie was pregnant.

Juniper could feel her shattered heart throbbing on the ground and she forced herself to start walking. She didn't know where she was going, but she allowed her legs to move absentmindedly. There was no brain in her hollow head and so, Juniper couldn't stop even if she wanted to. But her eyes were working and she looked around as she walked. 

The Hale woman found herself to be in a strange part of the mansion. It was quiet with thick carpets and heavy tapestries that seemed to soak up the sound. Softly lit, mute colours. It was peaceful. Juniper liked it, even as her legs continued moving. 

But then they stopped. 

Suddenly, everything was silent. No noise. It was too still, too hushed. It was like something was waiting, ready to pounce at any moment. And that was when Juniper smelt it and she knew exactly what the putrid sweetness signified. 

It was him. 

She was certain it was him. The same stench infected her house when she had turned eighteen. It took months for the smell to work its way out of the furniture. But he was here. Juniper could sense him. She could feel his presence. She could feel his eyes watching her. Juniper nearly doubled-over, blanching as she licked her lips. 

Shaking, she crept down the hall, the odour becoming overpowering. It was pure. It was haunting. It was deadly. Juniper could feel herself becoming sick as she rounded a corner, becoming face-to-face with two surprised guards. But they weren't Peacekeepers'. They weren't in the trim, grey uniform from Thirteen either. The two, a man and a woman, wore tattered, thrown-together clothes of rebels. Still bandaged and gaunt, they were keeping watch over the intricate doorway When Juniper moved to walk through it, the soldiers formed an X in-front of her.

"You can't go in, Miss," the man said. There was a wound down his cheek. 

"Why not?" Juniper questioned, though her voice trembled. He was in there. 

"President's orders," said the other guard. She seemed to be in a better condition than her peer. "No-one can go in—" 

"Let her in." 

Juniper whipped around to see a woman, who looked extremely beat up, walking towards her. She had dark brown eyes and even darker hair. The Victor couldn't seem to place her. She wasn't from Thirteen or the Capitol. Was she a rebel? 

"Who are you?" Juniper demanded, but the strictness in her voice seemed to have disappeared months ago. 

"I am Commander Paylor," the woman said. "From Eight." 

Paylor looked young to be a commander. Early thirties at best, but there was an authoritative tone in her voice that it made Juniper feel her appointment wasn't arbitrary. She had a slight smile on her face as her dark eyes glanced over the woman, but she, like everyone else, looked exhausted.

"Right..." 

"You can go in there..." Paylor told her, nodding. "Out of everyone, you should know what's in that room—" 

"Is it...?" 

But Juniper's voice trailed off when the soldiers dropped their weapons without question. Commander Paylor nodded once more and the Hale woman could feel her stomach dropping, but she passed through anyway, trying to not breathe too hard in order for the roses' odour to not make its way into her senses. 

However, that proved to be difficult after Juniper walked down the end of a short hallway, pushing apart a set of glass doors to reveal a garden of such flowers. The stench nearly made her gag as she shivered when the damp, mild air caressed her skin. But the roses were beautiful. There were row after row of them, painted in a variety of lush pink, pale blue, and sunset orange. Juniper wandered through the aisles carefully, set on not touching any of them as if they would poison her even if her bare fingertip grazed them. 

The smell of the roses were so strong that it began to flatten out as if there was no more Juniper's nose could absorb. But it didn't mean she wanted to be in the garden much longer. Why did she go in here? She mentally slapped herself.

"Miss Hale." 

The Victor jumped and froze as his voice echoed around. His figure wasn't visible, but his words seemed to emit from a bed of yellow roses, which shimmered and gleamed. The Hale woman shivered as she felt a chill run up and down her spine, making her move slowly around the corner to find the man sitting on a stool against the wall. 

Snow was well groomed and finely dressed, but he was weighted down by manacles, ankle shackles, and a tracking device. In the bright light, his flesh was a pale, sickly green and he held a white handkerchief spotted with fresh blood. Though, despite his horrendous state, his snake-like eyes still shone cold. 

"Snow." 

"You are my first visitor, Miss Hale." 

Juniper could feel her bottom lip trembling as she replied, "How lucky of me." 

"We have much to discuss, but before we do, I must give you my condolences for young Mr. Odair." Snow smiled sinisterly. "I know you two were very close... what a bright, golden boy... you must know, my mutts never intended to kill him. I suppose he was just unlucky." 

("He didn't sacrifice himself," Johanna was quick to snap. Juniper winced. "He got unlucky. Katniss had to mercy-kill him, for crying out loud...")

A tear trickled down Juniper's left cheek. 

"But, of course, things like this happen in war," Snow carried on. "People are killed... people lie... people are betrayed..." 

The Hale woman swallowed a lump in her throat as she asked, softly, "The war isn't over yet, is it?" 

Snow narrowed his eyes before shrugging, saying, "For me, it is. Of course, I still have to sit my trial, but I will most definitely get execution as my punishment. But for you and the other survivors... no, I do not think it is." 

"Why?" 

"In war, there is corruption," Snow tried to explain. "But we can't see it... you see, I was staring right at The Mockingjay. The Mockingjay was staring right at me... we seemed to not notice the bigger threat—" 

"Who can be a bigger threat than you?" 

Snow hummed, smiling slightly before asking her, "Miss Hale, who do you want more dead? Me or President Coin?" 

Juniper clenched her jaw as she began to fiddle with the end of her jumper, furring her brows. Who did she want more dead? Snow, of course. Coin wasn't to be trusted, that she knew, but the man sitting in-front of her deserved death and Juniper would pick him over and over for execution. Snow caused all of this. Snow caused her captivity. He caused her Reaping. He made all of this pain. 

"You. Without any doubt."

Snow smiled. "Then yes... the war hasn't finished just yet." 

Juniper stared at the man and when he started hacking up blood into his handkerchief, she made a curt exit around the rose bushes and through the glass door. Snow's cough echoed around the garden, ringing in Juniper's ears even as she closed the glass door and went back down the short hallway. Out in the corridor, Paylor was standing in the same spot she was moments ago. 

"Was it what you expected?" Paylor asked. 

Juniper felt her hollow head go dizzy as she whispered, "I don't know what to expect anymore," before swiftly leaving the quiet part of the mansion, whose thick carpets and heavy tapestries seemed to laugh at her.

(Snow smiled. "Then yes... the war hasn't finished just yet.")

("He didn't sacrifice himself," Johanna was quick to snap. Juniper winced. "He got unlucky. Katniss had to mercy-kill him, for crying out loud...")

("You're going to be okay... you're going to be all right... you'll live on, June... just win...")

Finnick was dead. Finnick was dead. Finnick was dead.

Annie was pregnant. Annie was pregnant. Annie was pregnant.

Juniper could feel a guttural cry build up in her throat as she started to choke on thin air. Tremors were starting to ripple through her body as she tried to find her way back to the haunted room she was staying in. But she couldn't find it. She was lost. And there was no-one around. 

("... how did you find out about that?")

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

("I will." Finnick smiled softly before kissing her right cheek, her left cheek, and her forehead. "I love you. I love you. I love you.")

("I can't... why did he have to die? I can't raise a kid by myself!")

In. Out. 

In. Out. 

In. Out. 

"Miss Hale?" 

(Snow hummed, smiling slightly before asking her, "Miss Hale, who do you want more dead? Me or President Coin?")

("But, of course, things like this happen in war," Snow carried on. "People are killed... people lie... people are betrayed...")

(The Hale woman swallowed down a lump in her throat as she asked, softly, "The war isn't over yet, is it?")

"Miss Hale!" 

When a hand landed on Juniper's shoulder, she nearly screeched as she turned around. Standing behind her was a middle-aged man who had rings around his eyes from lack of sleep. He wore a lab coat, though his breast pocket was free of an ID card. Wrinkles softly embraced his flesh as harsh stubble was beginning to appear on his cheeks and chin. 

"Aurelius?" Juniper questioned, choking back on tears. 

"Miss Hale." Aurelius smiled slightly, but his brows were knitted together when he noticed her current state. "What's wrong?" 

Juniper began to pant as she went to go lean against a wall, digging the heels of her palms into her eyes as she whispered, "Everything... everything is wrong." 

"What do you mean?" 

"Just everything!" Juniper nearly sobbed. "Everything is wrong... everything... everything—" 

Finnick was dead. Finnick was dead. Finnick was dead.

Annie was pregnant. Annie was pregnant. Annie was pregnant.

In. In. In. In.

In. In. In. In. 

In. In. In. In. 

"Miss Hale, you need to breathe—" 

"Why does this..?" Juniper tried to say as hot tears fell down her cold flesh. "Why is this...? Why?" 

"Miss Hale—" 

"The war isn't over!" Juniper howled. "Why isn't it over—?"

"Miss Hale, the war is over—" 

"But it's not!" Juniper argued. "It's not. It's still going on. Snow said—" 

"Snow?" Aurelius asked incredulously "You've spoken to Snow?" 

"He was in... in the garden."

"And you spoke to him?" Aurelius's lips parted slightly. "Miss Hale, you shouldn't have done that. Not with your past... we need to get you back to your room." 

The middle-aged head doctor wrapped his frail frame around Juniper as he began to walk her back to her room, which seemingly was only just around the corner. And as they trudged back to the haunted bedroom, Juniper felt her shattered heart thudding slightly slower, her breath coming back to her once the sweet bitterness of Snow's roses disappeared from her senses. 

When Aurelius opened the door to her bedroom, he led Juniper over to the intricate, wooden chair in the corner by the window. He muttered something about getting her lunch and swiftly left, door shutting quietly behind him. 

And as Juniper sat in the chair, she looked out of the window. The view was exactly the same. The snow caressed the outer world. Flakes flew down softly from the blue sky, nestling their way into the branches of the trees and bushes, causing a carpet of white on the grass. Birds flew by every now and then, lounging on the window sill or soaring high. It was exactly the same. 

But the Hale woman noticed two figures walking out onto the lawn. It was a man and a woman, both decked out in coats and gloves as they moved through the icy grass. Juniper moved her head closer to the glass of the window, nose squashing against the panel as she tried to inspect the two beings. 

Coin and Orion. 

Juniper knew exactly what her father looked like and could see the shadow of his terrible scars carved down his face and Coin was unmistakable for her straight, grey hair that fell down her shoulders like a sheet of paper. The pair were walking and though Juniper couldn't hear what they were saying, Coin and Orion were both in agreement. 

The Hale man was nodding his head, muttering something whilst Coin listened. And then their roles switched. The president was nodding her head, muttering something whilst Orion listened. It was like a game, both of them going back and forth with their agreements and Juniper was in a trance, watching them. 

It was only when Orion Hale looked up at her window with a quizzical expression that Juniper jolted away from the glass, fingers twitching as she got up from the chair and retreated backwards. She could hear Aurelius bumbling down the hallway. 

What was her father and Coin talking about? Why were they in such agreement? Juniper knew, to an extent, that Orion Hale helped the woman with the rebellion, that he spent much of his time in Command, but usually with Plutarch. But Plutarch wasn't there. It was just Orion and Coin. What were they talking about? 

(Snow smiled. "Then yes... the war hasn't finished just yet.")

("He didn't sacrifice himself," Johanna was quick to snap. Juniper winced. "He got unlucky. Katniss had to mercy-kill him, for crying out loud...")

("You're going to be okay... you're going to be all right... you'll live on, June... just win...")

Finnick was dead. Finnick was dead. Finnick was dead.

Annie was pregnant. Annie was pregnant. Annie was pregnant.

Coin and Orion. 

Juniper could feel herself become sick.

The war wasn't over just yet.