A/N-Just something I thought of. Not everyone in the Capitol at the time of the Rebellion was despicable. Some of them actually wanted to help the people.

Disclaimer-The Hunger Games belongs to Suzanne Collins.

Enjoy :)!

To Die For One's Country

I said I would die,
but not for this.

"You told me you'd do anything for me! You're my brother! My brother! How could you let this happen to me?" President Dronnie screamed. The rebellion was happening, and my sister needed my help. I was the head of the Capitol forces, I was supposed to get them all in line before this started. I was supposed to do anything for her. Sacrifice myself for the good of the Capitol. For the good of the president. But this was oppression.

I did not respond to her. I pointed my stony gaze straight at her forehead and I kept silent, my hands behind my back. I would not, could not, look her in the eyes. I let her throw her tantrum, let her get it out. She would come around.

I promised to obey,
but not for this.

"Jachson! You aren't even looking at me! Look at me!" She picked up a vase full of roses. They were dried roses, ones that I had given her on her inauguration three years ago. I had told her that she would be the best president in the history of Panem. That she would be loved by the people. I was wrong.

"Shawndra," I said quietly. Not weakly, nothing I ever did was weak, but quietly. She always threw fits. I was the calm, calculating twin, and she was the twin who flew off the handle whenever things didn't go her way. United, we stood. Divided, we fell. "You know I can't kill them. They've done nothing wrong. The improvement you made only lasted for two months, now things are worse than ever for the citizens of Panem." She threw the vase at my head. I let it shatter against my skull, and the crushed petals fell away soaked in blood. I did not move.

I would never lie,
nothing would be amiss.

"Why do you have to be like this Jachson? So cold. You don't even love me, do you?" She fell to her knees, tears streaming down her delicately made-up face. She was the only president in history who had not had any plastic surgery. She had always been so proud of that. That was why she thought she could help the people, because she would spend more time on their needs than her own appearance. I had agreed.

"I love you, Shawndra. But I can't kill those people. I can't fight them, and I can't ask my soldiers to fight them." Her glare did not penetrate me, because I refused to acknowledge it. From now on I was simply an insubordinate officer, I was not the president's twin.

I would do just what you say,
nothing would be amiss.

"You don't have to ask them to! I will. Just go out there and fight with them. Please, brother. I need you." The tears had stopped. She had that gleam in her eyes that she got when she knew she had lost. The begging was not real, it was a pretense. She had lost this battle, but she was determined to win the war. She always did.

"I resign from my position as commanding officer, President Dronnie. I will take my leave now." I didn't walk away, I waited to be dismissed. It was all just a game to her, I knew that. It had always been a game. Ever since we were children. Who was faster, stronger, better at kissing up to Mom and Dad. Who was more loved.

I can't listen now,
the stakes are too high.

"You may go, Officer Dronnie. Please stop by Danicka's office on your way out, there is some required paperwork I wish for you to fill out." As she waved her hand at me, she was already on the phone. I nodded my head at her, compliantly. I knew that she was not calling for paperwork. She was calling for an execution. My execution. I knew this, but I did nothing to stop it.

"Danicka," I heard her say as I walked out the door. "Please take care of my dear brother." The threat was not exactly stated, but it was implied. It didn't matter, she knew that I knew. But she was keeping up with the game.

I can't let you do this,
the stakes are too high.

"Officer Dronnie," Danicka nodded at me as I entered her small office. "Please be kind enough to follow me." I followed her. Followed her to my death with a blank expression on my face. No one ever knew what I was feeling. That's why I was such a good commanding officer. I never showed fear, I never showed pain, I never showed doubt.

When we entered the dark room, Officer Jefth was there. He was the executioner, the torturer, the despicable man that I promised myself I would never be anything like. "Ah, Jachson. I'll give you one more chance, of course. Will you go out there and die for your country?" He asked me, and I looked at him, but refused to respond.

I will no longer bow,
you are not my ally.

"The Capitol is where your loyalties should lie, Jachson. But I see now that they only lie in yourself. That is what makes for wretched character. Selfishness." Jefth spat on my face, and I felt it mix with the blood that was still dripping from my forehead. He could think whatever he wanted about me. I wasn't doing this to impress him, or anyone else. I could not kill people for defending their freedoms.

He shoved my head into the guillotine. I allowed it to be done. The reason I was commanding officer for the last five years was to help my sister fight to rid our country of oppression. I had done all I could. I was done fighting for my country; it was time for me to die for my country.

I said I would die,
I'll die for this.

A/N-I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave me a review.

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Thank you.

-Mel