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SHALL WE RISE?

act three. 

(chapter forty-three, the two drowned in each other's pain)

upper ground / hospital ward, 2313.

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A CREW IN SPECIAL suits collected the roses and carted them away, Katniss's face morphed into an expression that was between fear and anxiousness. Valencia tried to calm her beating heart as she watched the flowers disappear. She knew they were for Katniss, but the idea that those roses were meant for a pair of lovers, the red and pink, made her sick. The idea of what Snow was doing to Finnick made her sick.

"So, what exactly do you need from me again?" Katniss asked.

"Just a few lines that show you're alive and still fighting," Cressida told her.

"Okay," Katniss said and as she took her position, staring at the light of the camera, she sighed. "I'm sorry, I've got nothing."

"You feeling okay?" Cressida asked her. "How about we do the old Q-and-A thing?"

"Yeah. That would help, I think."

Valencia gave Katniss two thumbs-up, watching as Cressida asked her a question. Katniss began to answer, but her voice trailed off. Valencia could tell Katniss was struggling, her suspicions true the moment she started crying.

"What's wrong with her?" Plutarch mumbled to Valencia as they watched Haymitch run over and embrace her.

"She figured out that Snow's using Peeta to taunt her." Valencia sighed and then everyone else did.

Valencia watched as Katniss turned into hysterics, sobbing and crying as someone quickly ran forward. And then she felt her own heart go into her throat as she watched Katniss slip to the ground. With Katniss's realisation that Snow was using Peeta, images of Finnick and Commie entered her mind. 

Finnick was in the Capitol because of her. Plutarch said that the reason Finnick was held hostage was because he didn't cut his tracker out because he was too busy trying to find Valencia. He was distracted trying to find her whilst all she was worried about was making sure Peeta and Katniss were alive. She didn't spare a thought for Finnick in the arena. And now he was in the Capitol, probably being tortured or worse. He was probably dead.

And then every single emotion she was trying to hold in came flooding out. Tears fell from Valencia's eyes as she collapsed to the ground in hysterics, Antares quickly catching her. All the things that had happened to Valencia in her life was all boxed up in some locked cage in her mind. Her father's death. Her mother going crazy. Getting Reaped. Watching Rome's death. Watching Donna die with the axe in her head. Killing Confetti. Killing Louis. Watching Dominica's head roll off her body. Killing Jacob. Killing Silas. Killing Enobaria. Killing the Ten woman. The ghosts mutts and jabberjays. The cannibal from Five. Watching Clara tear her eyes out. Winning the Games. Coming home to a broken life. Nova. Billie. Antares. Athena. Chester. Alcohol. Commie. Finnick. Johanna. Life. Death. 

Valencia was shaking. Her mind had shattered, her heart non-existent as she sobbed in Antares's arms, hot tears running down her cheeks as she began to rock herself, trembling. After everything that had happened, Valencia thought she had a fire in her heart, that all her trauma just made her revengeful. And whilst it did and whilst the fire in her heart was burning her insides, Valencia was broken. And then she felt a needle go into her arm and everything went numb. All her feelings went back into a box.

She didn't wake up until a day later and if it weren't for Katniss, Valencia probably would have still been sedated, but she woke up from her darkness to a sorrow reality, her being sprawled out on her stomach and her hands twisted into the pillowcase.

"Lennie." Katniss shook her awake, drawing back the curtain that divided them. "Wake up!"

"Katniss?" Valencia asked, her voice trembling as she fluttered her eyes open, wincing at her pounding headache. "What—?"

"They've gone to get the Victors'," she immediately interrupted her, her eyes wide as Valencia bolted up in her bed. "They've gone already."

"You're joking..." Valencia breathed. "You're joking, right? This is some cruel dream, isn't it?"

"It's not a dream," Katniss assured her. "They're actually getting them out of the Capitol. Haymitch said—"

"Haymitch said that there is a job for the two of you," the said man told them as he yanked back the curtain. "If you two can pull it together."

"What job?"

"We still need the footage of Thirteen after the bombing," Haymitch explained to them as Valencia forced her heart to calm down from the suddenness of it all. "If we can get it in the next few hours, Beetee can air it leading up to the rescue and maybe keep the Capitol's attention elsewhere."

"A distraction," Valencia murmured. "Something to get their attention."

"Something that is so riveting that even President Snow won't be able to tear himself away," Haymitch told them. "Got anything like that?"

Valencia pondered for what she could speak about. The truth, she realised, was what she could use. The truth about the life of a Victor, the truth of the Hunger Games, the truth about Panem's president. The people of the nation were used to seeing an aggressive, murdering, mysterious Valencia Barlowe. Tonight, Valencia would show everyone the broken, despaired, paranoid Valencia Barlowe.

She quickly scoffed her breakfast down and her and Katniss went aboveground where the television crew were. Katniss was the first to speak, talking about how she first met Peeta and their story. Valencia knew Katniss poured her heart out and so must she. But by doing this, she was ripping away the mask she had spent years making. The mask that portrayed her as a tough killer, but now she must show Panem that in reality, she was a scared, despaired girl who could never go to sleep again. And so when Katniss finished and slid off of the fallen marble pillar she was sitting on, Plutarch called her up.

"Right, Miss Barlowe," he said. "You're up."

With a shaky sigh, Valencia passed Katniss and went to go sit on the marble pillar. She was visibly shaking, her hands trembling as she looked directly into the camera, fiddling with the belt of the grey jumpsuit she was now wearing. They didn't want to show her in the hospital robes she had been wearing. She watched as Katniss's brows furrowed from the side and Valencia took a deep breath before starting.

"The life of a Victor is terribly overrated and a lie. People see it as bringing glory to your district, being something they could be proud of," she started to say. "They say Victors' live in a massive house in the richest part of the district, they say that we're lucky because we get food from the Capitol and we so much money to swim in. We're lucky because we get everything we want, we're lucky because we survived the Games... but no money could fill the void that is in all of our hearts... We do live in a big house and we do get loads of food and wealth, but it comes at a price. It comes at the price of carrying the demons on your back, of carrying the people you killed in the arena souls in your heart."

Haymitch looked down at the floor whilst Katniss's brows relaxed. Plutarch was pursing his lips whilst Cressida just nodded her head.

"Every night, every day, I am forced to see those who I killed. To see those who died right in-front of me," Valencia continued. "I can't go to sleep without greeting them in my dreams. I can't go out in the winter time anymore. I can't go out in any woods because I'll be reminded... reminded of the lives that were taken... whenever I look over my shoulder, Donna from Eleven has an axe lodged in her brain... every time I hear a loud noise, Dominica from Four's head would topple off her body... every time there's a cracking sound, Silas from Nine would fall into the foggy abyss... and every time there's mist outside, Clara from Two would be ripping her eyes out from the fog that surrounded us."

Katniss's eyes went wide at her description. She probably didn't even know who the people were. Or did.

"On the screen, I am portrayed as a cold, aggressive killer," she spoke. "We all are seen like that, but underneath, we are all broken souls, we all have lost ourselves... and it takes great strength to carry on with life. Every year, we are forced to watch the boy in maths class get torn apart by some mutt. Forced to watch the class clown get impaled by a boy who's younger than him. Forced to watch the shy, sweet girl who sang in assembly kill someone with her bare hands because she wants to have a future. But no Victor has a future because the moment you leave that arena, you are bound to an eternal contract. A contract you didn't sign."

Valencia took a deep breath, her heart in her throat as she kept talking.

"That contract includes getting sold because you're seen as desirable. Includes getting forced to watch the kids you've trained die by starvation or some blade. Forced to ride a train for the rest of your life," Valencia said. "And for a Victor, you don't get the chance to fall in love because President Snow just takes them from you. I loved Finnick and Snow took him from me. Katniss loved Peeta and Snow took him from her. All Snow does is take and take and take things from us Victors' until we are no more, until we end it ourselves. And I wish I can say that a Victors' life is a luxurious one, but it's not. Forever in your soul, you will carry the lives of those who are dead. All you will see in the rest of your life is ghosts. Wherever you go, the dead will follow... they haunt us until we die."

The cameras ceased action and Valencia began to walk over to Katniss, who was ready to hug her, but then suddenly, Antares came walking out from the rocks.

"Coin said you lot needed a distraction?" Antares asked as he went over to Cressida.

"Uh — yeah." Cressida nodded. "We already have Katniss and Valencia, but more the merrier."

"Terry..." Haymitch called from where he was, waving the younger man over. The two had a hushed conversation, Antares pale as he kept talking, Haymitch just nodding. In the end, the Victor from Twelve patted the one from Nine on the shoulder, letting him walk away.

"Just by those rocks, Antares." Cressida pointed.

"There's rocks everywhere." Antares sighed. Valencia furrowed her brows as she watched her brother take a deep breath and sit on the pillar.

"Terry, you seriously don't have to do this!" Haymitch called out once more.

But Antares shook his head, nearly grey in the face as he said, "Anything to help her." Her?

"And... action."

"I'm not going to do some introduction because all of you know who I am," Antares started as he stared into the camera. "But the first thing I'm going to say is that... President Snow... used to sell me... my body anyway. I wasn't the only one. There are many more who decide to stay quiet, decide not to act because if you do one thing wrong, Snow will kill those you love. And if you refuse, he'll kill someone you love. So you do it to save them."

Valencia felt lightheaded as she swayed where she stood. She knew, deep down she knew what happened to her brother. She understood after her Games why he took multiple trips to the Capitol. Understood why he was always swooning the women. Because he was made to. And he didn't say no to Snow like Valencia did. She wondered that if he did, would Snow have killed her?

"But since there was so many people in my situation, you form a sort of sick, twisted, silent bond with them," Antares continued. "The bond I formed was with one Finnick Odair. You see, we didn't want money since we had more than we needed. No, we got secrets."

Valencia went numb at the mention of Finnick. She knew about him, knew about what he was forced to do. And as she thought over whatever secrets he was talking about, Valencia remembered what Billie said. Poison.

"You see, our very own President Snow isn't who he seems to be." Antares smirked a sad smile. "He was such a young man when he rose to power and very cunning to have kept it for so long. But how did he? Well, poison." Antares laid the most detailed story of Snow's political career, going through how he first came to power, to all the cases of mysterious deaths that no-one would think to accuse him of. "And all these theories of who killed who, who killed the adversaries. It was Snow. Snow is the one who killed them. He drinks from the same cup to avoid any suspicion. But, Snow, my dear friend, antidotes don't always work. 'Tis the reason he wears roses reeked with that insufferable perfume to hide the blood from the sores in his mouth"

"And so, I hope you all think twice about your lovely president," Antares continued. "A man who makes the minors do unspeakable things. A man who he himself does unspeakable things. A man reeked with poison, a man who makes the Finnicks, and Cashmeres, and Antaress do terrible things just to please his civilians desires. What would you do if this was your child? Your sister? Brother? Friend? Yourself? What would you do? I think that question answers itself."

The cameras stopped rolling and Cressida called it a day. Katniss's face was one of sadness as Valencia reached up and wiped away a singular tear that rolled down her cheek. The crew didn't spare one moment as they quickly hurried to edit the footage they got, Antares quickly leaving with them, not letting anyone speak or touch him. And as they left, Katniss went up to Valencia and softly took her in for an embrace. The two drowned in each other's pain, arms wrapped around.

With the job done, Valencia and Katniss weren't required to do anything. They spent most of their time in Special Defence. Eating lunch, talking in soft voices, blowing things up in the shooting range. Katniss told Valencia that Beetee had made something special for her, something to do with knives. At the word, Valencia instantly perked up, but Katniss told her that she would have to wait until Beetee had some time and she was discharged from the hospital.

And finally, the two women along with Nova and now Antares, who Valencia kept an eye on, stood in the back of a room filled with screens and computers, watching Beetee and his team try and show the propo they shot. Some of Katniss had shown, but was mostly to show that she was alive. Valencia's and Antares's faces filled up most of the screens. And for the next hour, the Capitol feed switched between their normal schedule, Valencia, Antares, Katniss, and their attempts to shut off all power. But Beetee managed to keep control and showed nearly all of the interviews.

"Let it go!" Beetee said as he threw up his hands. "If they're not out of there by now, they're all dead... it was a good plan, though. Did Plutarch show it to you three?"

He hadn't and so Beetee took them to another room, showing them the plan. It involved knockout gas, a power failure, the detonation of a bomb in a government building a long way away from the prison, and then the disruption of the broadcast. It was very hard to follow.

The four Victors' tried to wait in Command, thinking that word of the rescue would come there first, but they were sent out and because they refused to leave Special Defence, they ended up waiting in a room that was an exact replication of a meadow with hummingbirds instead.

Nova had her head on Valencia's shoulder as she laid her cheek atop her hair whilst Katniss was staring at the ground. Antares had gone back to Beetee, the silence killing him and he nearly started sobbing. Valencia was trying to use the method her therapist told her, to count to one all the way to ten, but she was up to one hundred now and she still hadn't calmed down. She was fidgety and Valencia Barlowe was never fidgety.

"Why did you deny your feelings for Finnick, Lennie?" Katniss asked her suddenly.

"Because I was afraid..." Valencia told her, a long pause enveloping her before she added, "But he crept up on me, I think... I'm not sure, love is weird..."

"It is."

It was the day next, midnight, when Haymitch pushed open the door. "They're back. We're wanted in the hospital. That's all I know."

Valencia had sprinted fast before in her Games and the Quell, but now, she bolted through the halls of Thirteen. Her abdomen was not hurting anymore and so, she ran as fast as she could, Nova, Haymitch, and Katniss on her tail. Her heart was pounding as she entered the elevator, panting as she waited for the other three to catch up. When they finally made it into the hospital wing, the place was in hysterics with doctors shouting orders and wounded people being wheeled through the halls on beds.

Suddenly, someone pushed them out of the way, a gurney being pulled with an unconscious woman on-top. She had a shaved head, her ribs on show as she was so skinny. Her skin was painted with purple and blue bruises, scabs leaking on her flesh.

"Jo," Valencia breathed as she rushed to go see the woman, but she was held back by a doctor. "Jo!"

Valencia nearly collapsed there and then, choking on a scream that threatened to escape her lips as she watched Johanna Mason be wheeled off, doctors surrounding her. Her eyebrows were furrowed as she scanned the ward for the others, the image of Johanna still burnt in her mind. Her heart began to pound as she imagined what Finnick and Commie looked like.

And then she saw a bed with an unconscious man laying on it, a man that looked so familiar. With a sharp gasp, Valencia went charging to him, pushing away any hospital staff that was in her way. A man covered in multiple burns, all fiery red and blistery, was laying peacefully on the sheets, wearing a thin robe. Commie.

"Commie," Valencia breathed as she placed a trembling hand on the man's shoulder, tears building up in her eyes. "What have they done to you?" Then the doctors began to push her away, leading Commie into a section of the hospital. "No! Commie! Let go of me! Commie!"

"Lennie!"

The doctors let go of Valencia, rushing after Commie as they let her try find the source where the voice came from. After spinning around multiple times, trying to take deep breaths, she saw him. He sat on a bed, his shirt off, showing how much weight he had lost, and his hair all messed up, but he still had the same sea green eyes. But they were pained, his eyes were full of pain, but relief as he looked at Valencia. Her Finnick.

"Finn," she cried to herself before rushing to him, the two of them crashing into each other. He didn't have any blistering burns on him and no oozing scabs, he looked like himself. "Finn!"

And then, she felt his pair of strong arms wrap around her, her hands going around his back. She felt a warm liquid smudge onto her fingertips, Finnick gasping in pain, which caused her to draw her hands back. They were coated in blood and she nearly shrieked.

"It's okay, it's okay," he whispered as he held his forehead against hers. "Don't worry... I'm okay... I'm okay."

Valencia tried to not sob as she buried her head into his chest, listening to the sound of his heart pounding against his chest. His hand was cradling the back of her head as they tangled into each other. In that moment, no-one else was in the hospital wing and it was just them, just them in their reunion. And then, they both drew back, tears in both of their eyes as they finally pulled each other in for a tender kiss, a kiss that was filled with so much passion and fire that Valencia started to forget her bloody hands, but then she suddenly remembered. 

Pulling back, she turned Finnick around and nearly fainted. His back was coated in cuts and whip marks, blood running down his flesh as doctors wiped it clean with a towel. Valencia was about to ask when suddenly, she caught Annie in the corner of her eye.

"Terry!" Annie yelled, ripping off the band that was around her arm as she ran towards Antares in nothing but a sheet. "Terry!"

"Annie!" Antares yelled back, him sprinting towards her. And it was if nothing mattered more in the world than the two of them since they both crashed into each other. They lost their balance as Annie wrapped herself around Valencia's brother, the two of them slamming against a wall as they pulled each other in for a sweet kiss.

"You're joking." Valencia gaped as she watched Annie Cresta and Antares Barlowe kiss against the wall. "He wasn't joking..."

("Do you happen to have a secret lover you're not telling me about?"

"Maybe." Antares shrugged, causing Valencia's eyes to go wide.

"Do you actually? Who? Do I know her? Or him."

"I was kidding, Valencia.")

("Anything to help her.")

Before Valencia could think anymore about Annie and Antares, her attention was averted back to Finnick, who was getting dragged away by the doctors, but he was trying to fend them off.

"Just give us a minute!" Valencia snapped at them.

"But his back—"

"Give us a minute," Valencia hissed at them, causing them to slowly back off grumbling under their breaths. "Oh, Finn."

"Lennie," Finnick muttered as she watched her wipe the blood away from her hands and onto her pants. "Oh, Lennie... where do we even start?"

"I'm so sorry." Valencia began to sob. "Oh, Finnick, I'm so sorry. You should have never been taken... it should have been me and not you."

"Hey, hey, hey," Finnick repeated. "There's nothing you need to apologise for. You have no reason to be sorry. And I'm glad it was me instead of you, I couldn't bare the thought of you going through all of that."

"It's been so... it's been so hard without you... and Comm—"

The moment the tears fell from Valencia's eyes, Finnick wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. The two stood there as Valencia felt the warm tears run down her cheeks. Valencia was never the type to cry, but as she stood in Finnick Odair's arms, his back cut up, Johanna looking unrecognisable, and Commie having burns and blisters all over his skin, she did.

"Valencia, where's Flint?" Antares came up to them, Annie being led away by some doctors. "Is he here?"

"You would have seen him if you didn't have your tongue down Annie's throat." Valencia scoffed when she wiped the tears away from her cheeks, facing her brother.

"Are you seriously upset that I didn't tell you?" Antares chuckled. "Really? When I was forced to find out about you and Finnick through Caesar Flickerman? Are we going to do that?"

"That's different," Valencia told him. But then she remembered his interview. She remembered what he spoke about. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry—"

"Don't do this right now." Antares shook his head. "Where's Flint?"

 "He's here. He's in a bad shape, Antares."

He swallowed down any insults he had and asked, "What do you mean?"

"He has burns all over him," she said. "The doctors took him away, probably to calm the wounds down, I'm not sure."

Antares nodded his head, huffing at her. And then it came to Valencia. Annie was not captured by the Capitol because of her. Snow was not using Annie to taunt Valencia into madness. Snow took Annie because of Antares. He took Annie to make Antares go into madness. Valencia just thought Antares was so sorrowful because of Commie, but whilst he was, it was also because of Annie. The girl he loved. It didn't matter about all the girls reaching out to Antares in the Capitol. Antares didn't love any of the fake, fancy women in the Capitol, the ones he was forced to please. He, instead, loved a traumatised girl from District Four.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ matz 🎧 !

— next chapter is gonna hurt