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KILL FOR YOUR LOVE.

act three.

(chapter sixty-seven, fear of the dark (don't infect me))

hospital ward, 75 ADD.

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SLEEP WAS SOMETHING JUNIPER was not going to attempt. Even when the nurse put all the lights out and the other anonymous patients settled down, the Hale woman wouldn't even dare close her eyes. Even with none of the lamps on, it was still dark. Juniper was sure she could see the tendrils of the darkness come creeping towards. She didn't want to succumb. She couldn't. 

But as night came and everyone was fast asleep, Juniper was still laying in her bed with her eyes wide open. She could feel her heart beating. Anxiety was filling her up as she fiddled with her fingers. She could feel tremors still rippling through her body. Juniper was scared. Nervous. Petrified. And she never normally was. 

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

She needed some light. She couldn't stay in the darkness. She didn't want to be anywhere near it. But she couldn't turn a lamp on. The nurse would come hurrying in. But Juniper needed light. She could feel the hand-like tendrils of the darkness grabbing her, forcing her to succumb to it. The Hale woman was panting and her monitor was starting to beep more rapidly and so, Juniper made a quick decision to detach from it. 

It went quiet. Too quiet. The nurse would come in soon. But the Victor needed light, some comfort that the darkness would not drown her. And so, she tore the morphling drip out of the socket that was taped to her arm, gasping slightly before removing all of the other tubes. Once she was free, she swung her legs over the frame of the bed, placing her soles on the coolness of the tiles. 

Her legs were trembling as she stood up, the pain slowly coming back to her as she gently held her ribs. The morphling was still in her system, but it would soon disappear and Juniper could only imagine the agony she would be in. But nevertheless, she slowly began to walk, holding onto whatever she could as she did. 

The ward she was in was a long hallway. There were multiple other patients within the room, all asleep or sedated. As Juniper passed Johanna, getting a good look at her, the woman still looked to be under. The Victor from Ten clenched her jaw as she carried on walking. There was a door at the end of the hall and there was light beyond it. Light. 

Juniper could feel her ribs twinge and pinch as she slowly made her way to the end of the ward, feeling as if her legs would give way any moment. But it didn't stop her as the woman reached out to the handle of the door, grasping it as she pushed it open. Once she did, she was greeted with another long hallway that was lined up with doors. There were dimmed lights along the roof and as Juniper walked down her left, she spent her time admiring them. 

There was no darkness here. No tendrils. They couldn't get her here. She wasn't in the Capitol anymore. Clampitt couldn't touch her. The Peacekeepers' couldn't harm her. Snow couldn't talk to her. She was safe here. She was with the rebels. There was no darkness in District Thirteen. 

Juniper seemed to have entered the reception area of the hospital, a circular room that had screens littered around, showing up with patients' faces and where they were. The Hale woman clenched her jaw as she looked around. There were no doctors or nurses anywhere. The dim lights were still present. And there was a splatter of blood near her bare feet. 

(No-one prepared for her to lurch forward, rage emitting off of her in waves as she raked her nails down his face)

("You sick bastard!" Juniper screeched. Blood was gushing down Orion Hale's face as he stumbled backwards, holding his eye)

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

Juniper felt her breathing go into an odd pattern as she thought about her father. How could he? How dare he? He knew about it. He knew about the Seventy-Second Reaping and yet he did nothing. He was the cause of her being chosen. He could have easily run, but he didn't. And he was part of a rebel cell. And if he was here in Thirteen, he must have known the whole time about the rebellion. Why didn't he say anything? Why didn't he warn her? Why didn't he do anything? 

The Hale woman tried to swallow down a lump in her throat, but as she did, there was a sudden shooting pain in her ribs and any thoughts about Orion Hale dispelled as she cradled her side. She should have taken the morphling drip and bag with her. At least she wouldn't have to walk in pain. But suddenly, as she stared at a light embedded in the ceiling, a patient's face was displayed on the screen beside her. 

Peeta Mellark. 

It was Peeta's face with his name and what room he was in. At this, a sudden burst of emotions blew in Juniper's heart as she looked around at the multiple signs that littered the reception. But going down a hallway, the woman was terrified to see Peeta. 

She hadn't seen him since the Peacekeepers' took him away. What if he had gotten worse than he already was? He had attacked Katniss. He tried to kill her. He wasn't the Peeta Mellark that muttered a prayer with Juniper for Cashmere Nicholo. He was hijacked. His memories were changed. Instead of loving Katniss Everdeen, he was made to hate her. That was his punishment. That was The Mockingjay's punishment. 

("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.")

Juniper tried to control her breathing as she reached a hospital room. Looking through the windows embedded into the door, it looked to be a work space with notes and cups of coffee littered everywhere. Clenching her jaw, the woman pushed her way into the room, going to what seemed like an observation room. There was one-way glass and an audio setup and as Juniper walked up to the window quietly and slowly, feeling the morphling slowly exit her system, she saw him. 

Peeta Mellark was lying on the bed, arms strapped down, and he was wide awake. His eyes were open, filled with fear and confusion. He didn't seem to fight the restraints, but his hands fidgeted continuously. His expression was lucid. As Juniper stared at him, lips parted slightly, she realised he was much, much skinnier than the last time she saw him with more bruises and wounds on his flesh. 

And he looked angry.

The Victor from Ten had to back away from the glass as she felt herself pant. That was not Peeta Mellark. Nowhere near. There wasn't even the ghost of his grin, Justice's grin present. Peeta Mellark was gone. 

And Juniper supposed, with that, so was Justice Hale. 

Once she felt a tear prick the corner of her eye, the woman hurriedly wiped it away as she stumbled out of the hospital room, back into the hall that led to the reception. Too much darkness consumed Peeta Mellark and Juniper didn't want to go anywhere near it, therefore she started to head to circular area where the dim lights were. Juniper was sure she looked loony, staring up at them. 

"Miss Hale!" A voice suddenly echoed. "What are you doing?" 

Juniper snapped her head to the side to see the nurse bustling towards her, eyebrows furrowed in anger and confusion. The Hale woman swallowed a lump in her throat. How could she explain the darkness to the nurse? She couldn't. She wouldn't. She would probably be sedated. She didn't want to be sedated. 

"Why are you up?" The nurse scolded as she quickly grabbed ahold of Juniper's bicep, clutching it as she began to walk her.

(And Juniper could feel her heart rate skyrocket as she felt the Peacekeeper take ahold of her bicep roughly, grasping her)

The nurse was mumbling to herself as she brought Juniper down a hallway, stopping at a door that led to the ward. The patients were still asleep and all the lights were out and so, the nurse kept her voice quiet whilst scolding Juniper. The darkness was still in the room and the woman was trying to release herself from the grasp, feeling her chest ache, but the old nurse had a firm hold on her. 

"You need to rest and you need to sleep!" The nurse hissed as she hurriedly put Juniper back in the bed, reattaching all of the tubes and monitors. The Hale woman sighed at the feeling of the morphling reentering her body. "In your condition, you can't be walking around the ward!" 

"It's too..." Juniper went to say, but the relief of the morphling in her system stopped her sentence. Whatever pain she felt prior soon disappeared as well as any strong emotions. 

"If you can't sleep, Miss Hale, we're going to have to give you something for it," the nurse told her. 

"No... no sedatives." 

"It's not a sedative," the nurse assured her. "It will help you sleep." 

"I don't want to—" 

There was a sudden prick in her arm and Juniper winced as she went to go say something, but the nurse disappeared around the curtain, leaving the woman by herself. And she tried to fight off whatever drug was in her system, but Juniper failed as her eyes soon snapped shut, submitting her into a dreamless sleep filled with darkness. 

And there were no flashbacks. No nightmares. Her eyes were shut and she couldn't open them. Juniper tried, but the drug wasn't letting her. Any pain she had felt was numbed. There was no twinge or pinch in her ribs. There was no agony in her being. Her mind was at ease, empty. No thoughts came rushing in. It was like she was hollow. And mixed with the morphling, Juniper Hale couldn't feel anything at all. 

Whatever the nurse had given her, it was strong because the next time Juniper opened her eyes, there was no darkness. All of the lights were on in the ward. People were bustling about. The Hale woman had to blink once, and then twice, and then a third time to adjust to the change in lighting. But she didn't hate it. She didn't want to be anywhere near the darkness. 

Her mouth felt dry and her throat was itchy as Juniper began to look around. Her monitor was beeping to her heart rate, which was slow and steady, and the morphling drip was still in her arm as well as the other tubes. The bandages remained on her skin as well as the gauzes on her wrists. Something was making her brain go slower than it usually did. 

"I heard you had a little late night walk." 

Juniper snapped her head to the side to see Lucy sitting in the plastic chair, arms crossed over her chest as she stared at the woman in the bed. The youngest Victor from Ten clenched her jaw as she sat up slightly. There was no pain in her ribs. They seemed to have given her a stronger morphling dose. 

"You can't be doing that, Juniper," Lucy said as she reached over to grab something from the bedside table. Soon, there was a plate of hospital food balanced on Juniper's lap. "Not in your condition." 

"It's too dark in here," the Hale woman commented, but some of her words came out slurred. She tried to eat the food in her lap, trying to cherish the feeling of it filling her stomach. There was also a cup of water on the table as well.

"Dark?" Lucy asked. "Juniper, the dark is to help you sleep. You need to rest." 

"I don't want to sleep." Juniper shook her head. She was trying to limit herself at how fast she ate the food, but she seemed to have scoffed it down already, chugging the cup of water. "And I don't want that drug again." 

"What? Morphling?" Lucy questioned. "They have given you a stronger dose so—" 

"No, that sleeping drug," Juniper told her. "The nurse gave it to me last night. To help me sleep. I don't want it or sedatives." 

"The sedatives are just in case—" 

"I don't want it." 

Lucy Stevens knew there was no point in arguing with Juniper Hale and so, she dropped the subject. But as she watched the woman, there was something in her eyes. Regret. Guilt. Despair. Juniper would have said something about it, but she was too pumped with drugs to even string together proper sentences without slurring. 

The Victor of the Sixty-First stayed by Juniper's side for the next couple of hours. The woman stated she was not needed anywhere else for the time being and she could spare a few moments with her in the ward. But Juniper knew that wasn't the only reason. She seen the guilt, the regret, the despair in Lucy's eyes. She may not be able to question due to the drugs, but she could see it. She could smell it off of her. And Juniper didn't like it. 

"Well... I better get going..." Lucy mumbled as she began to get up from the plastic chair. "I need to speak to Haymitch and Plutarch so... someone should be coming in soon." 

"Who?" Juniper managed to ask. 

But Lucy just shrugged with a faint smirk on her lips, walking away and out of the ward. Juniper could hear her mutter something to the nurse before the door closed, but the woman didn't care to eavesdrop. She just laid in her bed, fiddling with her fingers as she stared around. And as she did, she realised how boring the hospital ward was. She needed to rest, she knew that, but she needed someone to talk to. Johanna wasn't awake yet and if she was, she hadn't made an effort to pull back the curtain. There was nothing to do. It was like Juniper was back in the white room of hell— 

"June." 

Juniper snapped her head up to see Finnick Odair standing gingerly at the end of her bed. And he still looked terrible. Dark patches were carved underneath his green eyes. His bronze hair was a mess. The grey jumpsuit did not suit him. He was exhausted and fidgety as he stared at Juniper, eyes wide. 

"Finnick..." Juniper breathed. She could feel a tear prick the corner of her cheek. Why was she crying?

"Oh, June." 

The man from Four seemed to snap out of his daze as he hurriedly came over to her, kneeling at her side as he gently took her hands into his. And he was crying. Tears were rolling down his cheeks as he buried his head into the blankets. Juniper could feel herself slowly start to be the same. 

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

"I'm so sorry, June," Finnick told her, looking up to stare at her in the eyes. He was a mess. "I am so sorry... I never should have—"

"Finnick, shut up," Juniper grumbled as she squeezed his hands. "It's not your fault." 

"You never should have been in there," Finnick managed to croak out. "None of you should have been in there... but I... I couldn't move... I—" 

"Finnick," Juniper said more harshly. "Stop it... it's fine... don't beat yourself up about it." 

"Are you okay?" Finnick asked her, getting up from the floor and dragging the plastic chair over. "Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine," Juniper tried to assure the man. "I'm here, aren't I?" 

Finnick nodded as he wiped away his tears before saying, "I'm sorry... about your father—" 

"Don't." 

"No, I just... I feel like no-one's actually properly said sorry to you about it," Finnick told her. "I know Lucy has... but I... I feel so bad... no-one even questioned it when Orion came here... I'm just so sorry..." 

Finnick began to cry again and Juniper let him. She couldn't even imagine the pain the man had gone through. Mags was dead. Juniper, Johanna, and Annie were in the Capitol. He had no-one. He was alone.

"People must have thought I was crazy." Juniper chuckled. 

"No..." Finnick shook his head. "Orion explained it after you went under... everyone thought you had a valid reason... of course, there were few who disagreed, but I shut them up quick." 

"Really?" 

"I'm always on your side, June," Finnick said, clutching her hand tighter. "Always."

For whatever reason, Juniper Hale began to burst out into tears and so did Finnick. The two cried together over everything. Over the month lost. Over the death. Over everything. The two Victors' clung to each other as they sobbed. And as they did, the drugs must have died down slightly because thoughts began to rush into Juniper's head.

Lucy Stevens and Finnick Odair were the only ones who felt bad. They were the only ones who whispered apologies over and over with the guilty look in their eyes. Plutarch didn't. Beetee could never. Haymitch was suffering from withdrawal and the fiasco with the star-crossed lovers. Lucy Stevens and Finnick Odair were the only ones making an effort out of the few days Juniper had been in Thirteen. 

They were the only ones washed with grief and guilt. They were the only ones who apologised over and over. They were the only ones who held Juniper, who spoke to her without pushing her for information or putting unwanted drugs in her system. Lucy Stevens and Finnick Odair were the only ones who felt bad. 

And as Juniper weeped in Finnick Odair's arms, she clung onto him. She clung onto him tightly because she never wanted to let go of him. He was her — well, Juniper didn't know what to call the man, but he meant the world to her. He was the only one, beside Lucy Stevens, that she could trust entirely. Juniper couldn't trust her father anymore. She didn't trust Plutarch. Johanna was sedated, who was the only one who properly knew what was going on, even if it was just a sliver. Finnick Odair was someone that Juniper loved. But as she cried and cried in her arms, sobbing over the pain, death, and her captivity, she realised something. 

Finnick Odair felt terrible for what happened in the Quell. He was evidently beating himself up about it. But he didn't know what happened in the Capitol. That was something Juniper realised. No-one knew what happened to her in the Capitol. Not Finnick. Not Lucy. Not Plutarch. Not anyone. They could only imagine it. 

That was why, as Juniper sobbed, she begged for Johanna Mason to wake up. 

⇢ ˗ˏˋ matz 🎧 !

— i have such an obsession with italicising words