Chapter Eighty-Five; Deadly Bargaining

(Stephanie's POV)

Stephanie awoke abruptly to the by now familiar though uncomfortable sensations, of the dull sting of a needle in her arm, followed by her lungs over-working suddenly and the nauseous feeling that roiled in her stomach.

Stephanie struggled to a sitting position, holding a hand over her mouth for emergency.

A flashback to previous events caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end, as a shudder raced along her spine.

She recognised Sterlin's apartment.

She recognised Seneca Crane….

Stephanie's thoughts halted.

Seneca had told her he loved her.

The thought was entirely too incongruous to be actually true, Stephanie was convinced. Surely she dreamt it up? Imagined it? Hallucinations?

There was a sinking feeling though in her stomach that told her she hadn't.

"I'm not sure how these things go – but that is not the expected response," Seneca told her bluntly, a hint of sarcasm in his tone as he leaned back in the chair facing her.

Stephanie stared at him incredulous.

Mentally Stephanie kicked her brain into going over everything she ever had to do with Seneca Crane.

But that was precisely the point! She had never wanted anything to do with Seneca Crane.

Every encounter they had, ended up with her shivering in fear and either fainting, on the verge of fainting, or having just fainted.

Everytime she spoke with him she would spend sleepless nights tossing and turning, meticulously going over everything she had said, worrying that she may have pushed him too far this time and that she would wake the next morning to receive word that her family were dead.

Seneca telling her he loved her was about as likely as Haymitch telling her that he and Seneca had been best friends for years, in Stephanie's mind.

The man who sat in front of her was cold, heartless and cruel. His eyes only ever held ice, his tone was always mocking or dangerous. His every action was taken with the utmost care as to how much pain he could cause others. He is the Head Gamemaker, not to mention the President's damn son, for crying out loud! Stephanie's thoughts screamed.

But… Stephanie's thoughts probed unsure as she recalled all the actions of Seneca that hadn't seemed so straight-forward. All the times he had confused the hell out of her and she had accepted it as Seneca just playing mind-games with her; to torture her more.

Thank-you…Maybe I enjoy our little encounters…How can you expect me to help you if you don't tell me what is going on?

I love you.

Stephanie's breath hitched in her throat as a horrible understanding came over her.

Could she have been so blind? Was it possible?

Surely Seneca Crane wouldn't go to so much trouble. Surely he had better things to do than toy about with her all for a sick joke.

Stephanie glanced up at him.

Seneca was sitting silently, watching her curiously, and clearly waiting expectantly for her reaction to his declaration.

Stephanie frowned as she felt a sudden blaze of anger rise up in her.

Was he damn well serious?!

He was a Head Gamemaker who slaughtered people like her for fun in 'Games'.

What the hell did he seriously expect? For her to suddenly go prancing off into his arms all dreamy-eyed?!

Stephanie ground her teeth together as hot rage tried to cloud her better judgement.

Seneca Crane was one of the last people she could love.

Stephanie felt many things for Seneca; fear, disgust and absolute loathing but nowhere even in the most twisted of realities could she ever love a man like that.

Not even taking into consideration that Stephanie was already completely in love with Haymitch.

Seneca was cruel. He spent his days designing ways and machines to enact more painful deaths on helpless tributes.

His lack of empathy was hence non-existent.

Also he and Haymitch hated one another and for good reason. Seneca had killed all of Haymitch's loved ones in a petulant display of Capitol power and control.

Stephanie clenched her fists tightly. She doubted Seneca even knew the true meaning of the term love.

…

(Seneca's POV)

Seneca watched the rage flood her face all with a slight degree of bitterness. This wasn't at all the reaction he was hoping for.

He realised her feelings towards him were less than savoury, but he expected what little sense she seemed to possess at times, to prevent her from throwing his feelings so brazenly back in his face.

"And what do you want me to do about it?" Stephanie inquired through gritted teeth, her golden eyes blazing with barely concealed anger.

"You – are meant to return the sentiment," he told her plainly.

Stephanie's jaw dropped open in evident shock, incredulity printed across her face.

"You have got to be joking!" she exclaimed.

Seneca arched a brow, keeping his expression carefully controlled.

Stephanie immediately averted her stare, closing her mouth though her wide-eyed gaze belied her shock.

"Quite the contrary," he told her dryly.

Stephanie cast him a side-long glance, the disbelief still battling with the utter outrage in her eyes.

"You love me?" Stephanie repeated questioningly.

Seneca nodded once before adding casually, "I love you Stephanie, I didn't plan it or particularly want to."

…

(Stephanie's POV)

Stephanie almost scoffed at Seneca's less than flattering confession, except that the only thing said conversation inspired in her was absolute dread.

What the hell was she going to do about this? Could she do anything about this?

Stephanie's gaze was subconsciously drawn once more down the hall towards the hidden door in the wall where she knew Haymitch was.

She couldn't quite decide if it would be better for Haymitch to come out at this moment or not. He no doubt thought she was still lounging about in the dressing room, moaning about aches and pains.

A sudden thought came to Stephanie then.

"How did you know I was here? Did you follow me?"

Seneca shrugged casually. "You don't take great pains to cover your tracks," he told her.

Stephanie swallowed nervously as she tried to process her thoughts carefully.

Did Seneca know…?

However before she could try and think to ask without alerting him to her thoughts, it seemed as though Seneca had already gleaned the information from her expression and he smirked.

"I know he's here," Seneca informed her with a smug expression and Stephanie felt her blood run cold.

If Seneca already knew that Haymitch was here…Stephanie wasn't sure how much Seneca knew of her relationship with Haymitch though she guessed that her behaviour the previous night left little to the imagination.

Stephanie inwardly cursed her own stupidity.

"Don't worry, he's safe – for now. You do after all need a mentor," he drawled.

Stephanie gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to slap the smug expression from Seneca's face.

"Then what are you doing here?" Stephanie asked harshly.

Stephanie fleetingly worried of the consequences if the apartment was bugged and then dismissed it.

Sterlin would not bug his own living accommodations where sensitive conversations may be had; Sterlin only wanted to know what was being said where he wasn't present.

Stephanie swallowed as Seneca's face suddenly became serious and he leaned forward.

Stephanie subconsciously leaned back.

"You are winning the Hunger Games."

Stephanie felt the world tip on its axis for a moment, an indescribable burning sensation building in her chest until she realised she had stopped breathing and she let out a long, wavering breath, hauling in shaky ones in fast succession.

Win the Hunger Games?

The entire idea was completely foreign.

Yes, she had entertained a fool's hope that she could win for her family, for Haymitch, for the life that she could possibly have with Haymitch.

But to have Seneca Crane, Head Gamemaker who controlled the very Games sit in front of her, no jest or trick in the cerulean depths of his eyes and tell her for certain that she would win…

Stephanie inhaled deeply again, desperately pushing back the light-headed feeling.

Stephanie looked to Seneca, her eyes fast rimming, her voice was suddenly hoarse and frantic when she spoke as she shook her head firmly.

"You can't joke about things like that," she told him quietly.

Seneca's hands shot out suddenly as he seized hers, gazing at her with a quiet intensity.

"I'm not joking," he replied equally as quietly.

Stephanie felt a few tears escape over her eyes as something inside her broke.

For so long it seemed she had faced certain death and now perhaps one of the only people who could have, told her she wouldn't die.

Stephanie loved and trusted Haymitch, but his promises that she would live only held as true as her own desperate hope.

Seneca's word was far more substantial though she hated to admit it.

Stephanie couldn't help the shaky laugh that bubbled to the surface, a dopey grin spreading across her face…until it froze in place.

Seneca said he loved her.

Seneca said she would win the Hunger Games.

A cold dread that seemed so familiar to Stephanie when she was in the blue-eyed Gamemaker's company filled her.

What did Seneca want in return?

Stephanie looked down at her hands clasped tightly within Seneca's own.

Horrible imaginings started to form in her head.

Was her life worth giving herself to someone like Seneca Crane?

Would Seneca even hold true to his promise if had already had his prize?

Could she really do that to Haymitch? Not only to willingly cheat on him but with Seneca Crane of all people – the man who had single-handedly ruined Haymitch's life?

"I thought you would be more excited to know that you were going to live," Seneca murmured jokingly.

Stephanie abruptly tore her hands from his, her face ashen as she looked at Seneca, her expression one of cold fury.

"What would you want in return?" she asked him.

Seneca's brow furrowed for a moment before it smoothed as realisation dawned in his sapphire gaze.

A smirk lifted the corners of his lips.

"You know what I want."