The Splinter

Late in the night she arrived back at her apartment. City lights hemorrhaged into the darkness. Silently she walked through room, slowly. Her eyes lifted as soon as she reached the bathroom to the mirror. There was still blood on her knuckles, hands, neck, and clothing. Shooting Nyx Starson in the head as she had made a mess. Although some Avox tried to clean her up by order of President Snow Pandora had pulled away and left the PSO without speaking. Now she was back.

Her brown eyes dully lowered as she started to undress. It felt mechanical to do it, almost as if she wasn't doing it at all. When she was completely naked she stepped into the shower and turned it up as hot as it could go. Steam instantly rose. Her skin scorched. Blood washing down her body and spun around the drain before disappearing. It was several minutes before the water ran clear again. Her wet hair clung to her shoulders and face as she pressed her palms against the tiled wall and hunched forward. Ever since Mironov had brought her back from the dead she was feeding off her own rage. She thought that shooting the rebel would have given her closure, she thought that perhaps it would heal the deep wounds in her heart—but she was wrong. The rage still filled her veins, only now it was muted and warped—now it was more a part of her than before. The image of blood splattering onto the ceiling blinded her for a moment. Without realizing it her fingers went rigid. Her eyes narrowed. They had congratulated her after she had finished, but even still a few of the military officials looked scared. Maybe they saw a madness in her eyes that she had seen moments before when she stared into the mirror. The worst sight after the execution was Adric. He looked pale and perturbed. In that moment of looking at him she had done exactly as he asked—she had thought about their conversation, she had thought about it and felt faint remorse, but only faint.

When she rubbed her lips together the cut in her lip cracked. Suddenly a wave of regret hit her—it hit her so brutally that her head bowed forward and her feet shifted. Truthfully she wasn't sorry she had killed Nyx, but that didn't stop the shame from settling into her skin. If her family found out what she had done—if Dash had seen her do it—they would have gasped in horror. Finnick would have too. Anyone with enough sense would have. That was quickly becoming Pandora's probably though—you couldn't survive off of sense. She heard Finnick's words the night he left her to go back to District 4. He had told her that he loved Annie because she was pure, because she was good. Of course by saying that she knew what he meant now. Pandora had realized before that she had done awful things in the arena and after but now it was more than that. Finnick had seen it. Even those military officials saw as she walked away drenched in blood. She wasn't good. She was flawed and broken. Her wax wings had flown to close to the sun and melted a long time ago. They melted the day she agreed to President Snow's terms. Ever since then she was falling and the longer she fell, the farther the sun became. She was falling into blackness. Perhaps that's why she hated Nyx Starson so much—he had been right about one thing, the worst thing to be right about. She was a betrayer. The time was coming to pick a side but she had a foot in both worlds, a dangerous position to take.

Water stung her skin. The rebel's scar taunted her.

Pandora wasn't a hero, she would never be a hero. The time for chivalry had come and gone. The longer she stared at the drain in her shower the more clearer this became. Tears filled her eyes. She would never go home, but now she was glad. Her family was better off without her. Always they would have the memory of her and always she would have the memory of them, but that's all they would be. Forever she would stay a recollection.

She turned the water off and sank into her bed with dripping wet hair. There was no point in drying off. Time would do that for her.

The next day she awoke from a dreamless sleep and got dressed. She stopped as soon as she entered the living room. Adric was sitting on a sofa. He twitched his eyes to her momentarily before lifting an envelope that was resting in his lap.

"Hello."

She parted her lips in surprise, "H—hello."

He didn't look pale anymore but Pandora could tell that he was having trouble meeting her gaze.

"Happy Birthday. I didn't realize it was today, until I got the invitation."

Her eyes suddenly widened. Her brow furrowed. It was her birthday. She had forgotten. Immediately she lifted her hand to her head and blinked her eyes.

"Thank you, I had—"

"You didn't remember," he quickly observed.

"What invitation?"

He stared at her briefly before rising and giving her the envelope in his hands. She silently took it. She felt nervous around Adric now. For the first time she felt like she was the monster and he was innocent. It was unsettling that he was still willing to be alone with her. Adric had saved her from bleeding out in a dank flood chamber. He had watched her shoot a man in a cold blood. Still he was here. The envelope smelt like roses. It was an invitation to a party. Her birthday party.

She traced her fingertips along the edge of the thick paper, "I—uh—Caradoc must have done this."

"I figured."

Her lips puckered the longer she stared at the invitation. She was desperately trying to formulate words, say anything, but she just felt like crying.

"Adric—"

"Don't."

She looked up at him and nodded, clearing her throat as she sniffed back tears.

"I'm not a monster," she whispered back.

He scanned her face. As his hand touched her arm she dropped her eyes.

"What's done is done."

His eyes and words said move on, and yet Pandora couldn't move on—not fully, not yet or ever.

"I never thanked you for saving my life."

He pulled his hand back, "Viktor saved your life. I just carried you."

Adric turned to walk away but Pandora grabbed him. She waited for him to look at her before she spoke.

"But it means more to me—even if you think you just carried me. Thank you for not leaving. You were right. I was wrong before—I am lost, I feel so lost."

He lowered his gaze to her hand on his shoulder and smiled before placing his hand over hers.

"You're only lost for the moment, Pandora Sullivan. You'll find your way."

"Don't leave me."

She wasn't talking about him leaving this instant, she was speaking in a bigger sense. Everyone had left her. The emptiness she was feeling was just a side effect of that. Adric understood. He quickly glanced to the windows and nodded.

"You don't need to worry about that, kid. There's nothing you can do to get rid of me. You may think it's funny that I keep saying that I'm your friend—but no one should feel abandoned, I know that more than anyone. Just because it's dark doesn't mean the light's gone out completely."

"I don't think its funny anymore. I understand. I'm just sorry I had to die before I understood."

He flashed a grin and raised his eyebrows, "Well you're stubborn."

"Yea—" she said it through a tired laugh, "I am."

"Pandora—if I asked you to do something would you listen?"

She folded the invitation in half and furrowed her brow, "What is it?"

He narrowed his eyes. She could sense that he was holding something back, "I—never mind. It's nothing."

"Are you sure?"

Adric thought of Mironov's explanation of the drug he had been giving Pandora and clenched his jaw. Even if he could put it into words he knew it would go against everything his father taught him, but there was a pain in his stomach telling him something was wrong. It was an urgent pain that he forced into the recesses of his brain.

"Yea. I was just going to say have fun tonight. It is your birthday, you know?"

Across the Capitol, in the office of Doctor Viktor Mironov, sat three people. The first of course was Mironov, the second Snow, and the third General Trajan. Of the three men only Mironov was visibly nervous. He gulped his water and rubbed his bad knee. President Snow adjusted the rose on his lapel and leafed through recent blood work reports and analyses.

"So—it's time."

Trajan's piercing eyes flicked around the office. "Tonight?"

"What? It's her birthday tonight, she isn't fully healed from the trauma her body took with the kidnapping."

Snow glanced to Mironov, "You told me long ago that there is a window we have to meet. A biological window where her brain has reached a point of immersion."

"Yes, but if she isn't fully healed her body won't be able to operate under the stress of the this procedure. I need more time."

"He's making excuses," Trajan accused with harshness in his breath.

Mironov straightened his back, "I am the doctor here. I am the one who knows what needs to be done."

"And you're too much of a coward to do it."

"You may be a General out there but in this office, in my labs and operating room I am the one that makes decisions!"

"No—I am a General all the time. Don't think I haven't noticed you whispering in my boy's ear. You better watch yourself, Viktor."

"Gentleman, Gentleman! Now, now…let's remain civil."

President Snow smiled as he tossed the report onto the coffee table.

"I hate to play favorites, Viktor, but if I didn't know any better I would say you're letting your emotions get in the way of what needs to be done."

Mironov struggled to reply right away. He rubbed his beard, "I know what needs to be done."

"So do it. Tonight. After the party. I'm sure you can have everything prepared by then?"

Mironov wanted to object. If he were brave enough he would have marched out of the building and warned Pandora—maybe Adric. But it was too late for that. He was in the lion's den. He had put himself there. With a ball in his throat he twitched his eyes to Trajan, then to Snow.

"Yes, I can."

The birthday party was to be held at President Snow's mansion. Typical—Pandora thought—as that's where most of the parties were held. Her dress was ivory trimmed in gold. The same sparkling gold decorated her eyes. She smiled and waved as she stepped onto the white carpet and the press took her photos—but inside she felt anxious and sick. Every time she closed her eyes she saw blood. The fatigue she felt was gnawing. Inside the mansion people laughed and drank. There must have been a hundred people in attendance—she saw her old stylists chuckling in a corner, Artorius chugging tonics. Everyone was there. White and gold must have been the color scheme because the place was filled with it. President Snow had gold vases filled with pristine white roses decorating every surface.

She grabbed for a glass of champagne and lifted it to her lips as soon as she arrived.

"Happy Birthday," Kol said as he approached with a devilish smile, "How old?"

"19."

"You're practically an old maid."

Normally she found Kol's banter annoying and obtuse, but in light of recent circumstances it had become tolerable.

"Are you sure you don't want a birthday kiss?"

The glass lifted to her lips as she peered away, "I'd be more willing to kiss your father."

Kol laughed and loosened his tie—a habit Pandora always notice. "Be careful what you wish for, he might take you up on that offer if you ask him nicely. In any case you look lovely."

She lifted her glass his a sarcastic smile, "You're possibly the least charming person I've ever met."

A few cameramen gravitated towards them. Pandora side-glanced one of them just as their camera flashed. They wanted a picture of Kol Flemming and Pandora Sullivan together—something Kol was more than willing to involve himself in. Pandora tried to shake her head and bow out but Kol grabbed her arm and pulled her into a very awkward, almost intolerable embrace. One flash blinded her.

"Get off of me, Kol. I'm not one of your women."

"Smile," he whispered, slowly planting a kiss on her cheek. Instantly another camera flashed.

She widened her eyes and looked up to Kol with jaw dropping expression. He was smiling like a goon, which made her even angrier.

"Happy birthday," he said with a wink. "That'll be enough pictures right now!" he shouted to the cameraman. Regretfully they wandered away.

"We should do that more often."

Pandora narrowed her eyes and shoved him away, "Dammit, Kol."

"Relax, sweetheart, just a joke."

"It wasn't funny."

"I thought it was hilarious. If you want seconds—"

"Kol Flemming, if I didn't know any better I'd say you were flirting with our little Miss Sullivan."

Suddenly the mood shifted. It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room. Pandora stumbled back, even Kol stopped grinning. President Snow glanced between Pandora and Kol with a double bladed smile.

"Mr. President, sir," Kol bowed his head with wide eyes.

Pandora simply stared.

"I hear your father just announced his retirement after next year's Hunger Game. It will be hard to find a replacement for such a creative, awe-inspiring man."

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't you think so, Miss Sullivan?"

At that moment all she could think about was Nyx Starson's lifeless body. Her lips twitched haphazardly but no words came out.

"Yes, of course," she finally managed.

"I have to admit I didn't come over here for small talk," Snow continued, "I came to ask to dance with the birthday girl."

Fear bit at Pandora. She peered to Kol who was already starting to back down.

"Actually I was going to dance with Mr. Flemming."

Kol furrowed his brow in shock, "Uh—oh that's alright."

Snow smiled, "Thank you, Kol. I promise I won't keep her away from you for too long."

Before Pandora could utter another syllable Snow gently but firmly grabbed her arm and started walking away with her. She dropped her eyes. Her heart started to race. Everyone was looking at them. It wasn't custom for the President to dance with anyone apart from his wife from time to time. Cameras flashed to document this. Wide-eyed gazes surround her. For the first measures of the song no one else danced—but as the violins swelled they all continued, pretending that what they were witnessing wasn't strange.

Being in the same room with Snow was hard enough, but to feel his hands and know that you couldn't step away was nightmarish. The grossly sweet odor enveloped them. She had never seen his face this close. It was like dancing with doom.

"You're nervous," he observed.

"Are you surprised?" she caught a glimpse of Adric as Snow spun her around.

"What a journey it has been. Has it not?" He was speaking to her as if they were friends saying goodbye. It made Pandora recoil.

"That's one word for it."

"You must believe me when I extend my deepest condolences about Finnick's untimely departure. He's a fool for ever leaving you."

Her instincts were telling her to rip out his throat. She lowered her eyes and tried to seem unmoved.

"As always, President, you're too kind."

"It's all for the best though. These things have a way of working themselves out I find."

Her eyebrow arched. For whatever reason Snow was speaking in finalities. It made her stomach squirm. She dared to look into his snake eyes, only to peer away quickly. He had the look of a man who had won the battle, only Pandora didn't know what battle he had won. She tried to shrug it off—perhaps it was just an extension of the glee he had felt when Pandora pulled the trigger yesterday.

When the song ended President Snow released her and laughed with a clap towards the orchestra. Pandora staggered in her heels before following his actions and trying to smile. She thought she was home free but then Snow grabbed her hand once more and planted a kiss on her hand. His cold eyes locked on hers. There was something behind them. He looked…ecstatic. Her smile faltered for a split second but then she realized everyone was staring. Quickly she bowed and took her hand back, but Snow never stopped smiling.

Near a vase full of roses Mironov pressed his back to the wall and nervously watched the dance. He was rubbing his hands together. His lips trembled. Everything inside him was telling the doctor to stop this madness. It was in his hands, but his hands were shackled. He shifted his eyes to the onlookers. Adric was watching the dance as well. He studied Adric for a long time. A pang rumbled his bones. Adric would never forgive him for this. He wasn't afraid that Adric would kill him, he was afraid that after he did what he promised Snow he was going to do he would want Adric to kill him. His hand shook as he pulled out his pocket watch and eyed the time. Only one more hour. Mironov was a damned man.

Adric caught Pandora as soon as she left the dance floor. She looked worried and pale but Adric ignored that.

"I saw you talking to Kol."

Her eyes moved to him, she grimaced and rubbed her forehead, "He's an ass."

"You look tired. I can get you water."

"No—I—" her eyes landed on Mironov, "What's he doing?"

Adric glanced over his shoulder. "What do you mean?"

She tried to get Mironov's attention but he wasn't looking. A cold sweat suddenly formed on her brow. She felt light headed. "I think I'd like to sit."

"Alright."

Adric tried to grab her arm but she pulled it away and started walking to the nearest chair. The cushions sunk as she took a seat and peered around.

"Some party."

Adric had no reply to that. Instead he cleared his throat and nodded.

"What would you do when you were younger? Back—back in District 7?"

Pandora looked at him in surprise. The last thing she wanted to think about was home. Out of habit she reached for the bracelet around her wrist only to find that her wrist was naked. She quickly remembered where she had left it, unworn.

"I would um…" she couldn't look away from Mironov, something about him was different, he hadn't spoken to her once, "…it was nothing special. Just sitting with my family, normally one of my brothers would have whittled something for the occasion. Just a trinket, really…as a gift. They always wanted me to sing for them. They liked it when I did that."

"It's healthy to talk about these things," his voice was barely a whisper, "It's healthy to remember."

Pandora rubbed her hands together and awkwardly nodded, "I don't want to remember anymore."

"You don't mean that."

"I do though," she was staring at the dancers, "I wish I could forget it all. It would make it much easier that way."

Adric leaned back in his chair, "I suppose you're right, but then you wouldn't be you anymore."

"Maybe it would be better that way."

He dropped his eyes in disbelief.

Pandora could feel the tension growing between them. One look across the room at President Snow and she felt the world melting away into tar. Everything was darker now. Even in a room full of white roses, gold, and candlelight it felt black.

"You shouldn't say those things," he finally responded.

She glanced to him and nodded, "Right. I shouldn't."

"One day you'll see them again. One day. I promise you."

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep, Adric."

"If it were up to me—"

"What you're saying is unnecessary. It's fine. Everything is fine. I'm not the girl I used to be," the memory of the gunshot rang in her ears, "I'm different, and I'm fine with that, really I am. I grew up and when you grow up sometimes it means leaving family behind."

He slowly moved his chair closer to hers and glanced around the party. He bit at his lip and rubbed the back of his neck in thought.

"When I was much younger my mother died."

Pandora kept her façade up.

"She died giving birth to my still-born brother. The doctors said the pain had been too much for her. I was too young to understand what death was—I remember asking where she was, when she was coming back. After a while I realized that she was never coming back."

Pandora crossed her legs and looked away. "That must have been hard."

"Life is hard."

"Yes, it is."

He cleared his throat and straightened his back, "But I would never say I wished I could forget my mother. You don't simply leave family behind, Pandora, it doesn't just happen as you grow up. You chose whether or not they're worth holding onto—even if you can't see them, or be with them."

She closed her eyes. He was right, and she knew it. Her heart hurt. Slowly she reached for his knee.

"You're a good friend, Adric Pedersen."

He stared at her hand and then glanced at her face. She wasn't looking at him, but he could tell her attention was on him. It was the first time she had called him her friend.

"Pandora?"

Suddenly Adric looked up. Mironov was standing in front of them. Pandora took her hand back and stood up.

"Happy Birthday."

"Thank you, Viktor."

Mironov glanced at Adric and furrowed his brow, "I would like to speak with you alone, Pandora."

Adric narrowed his eyes, "What is it?"

"Nothing. I just want to be alone with the birthday girl."

Pandora twitched her eyes between them and smiled. "Alright, Viktor."

She put her hand in his and nodded to Adric. They crossed the large room and walked further into a study Pandora had never been into. It was Snow's personal study. Books filled shelves. A dusty desk was piled with pictures. The room looked surprisingly normal.

"You look beautiful tonight, dear."

She turned around. Mironov was anxious. He was having trouble looking at her. Beads of sweat had formed on his brow.

"Thank you and thanks for sewing me up," she placed her hand over where Nyx had stabbed her, "I'd be dead if it wasn't for you."

"I'm glad you're alright."

"Viktor…what's the matter? You look upset."

He rubbed his beard and nodded, "Do you think I'm a good man, Pandora?"

She blinked her eyes, "Well, I'm not sure I'm the best judge of that sort of thing."

Mironov put his hands in his pockets, "I'm not. I'm a coward."

"What's going on?"

She could hear the music of the party. It was suddenly loud.

"I'm so sorry, Pandora. I hope you forgive me one day."

"What?"

A door behind her abruptly opened. She spun around in surprise only to stumble back. Trajan was flagged by two high security soldiers—further behind them was President Snow. Her brow creased. Fear stirred her bones.

"Miss Sullivan," Trajan nodded to her.

"Why are you here?"

President Snow adjusted his cufflinks and took a few steps forward, "Viktor, if you'd do the honors."

She felt the muscles in her arms go rigid. "Viktor—" before she could turn around to finish she felt something prick her shoulder. Her eyes dropped. A syringe filled her veins with something that burned. "—what are you doing?!"

She shoved Mironov away and tried to run for the door but her muscles weren't working with her. Almost immediately she lost her balance and fell with a crash. He had injected her with a paralyzing serum. Her breaths were deep and short.

"Good work, Viktor," Snow whispered, smiling as he stood over Pandora's motionless body, "I told you once, Pandora, that you were a very special girl. It's time to see how special you are."

With a whistle Trajan signaled one of the soldiers to get Pandora. Her eyes widened as he picked her up. Though her mind was telling to fight back she was frozen. She urgently shifted her gaze to Mironov. He was still holding the needle. He looked as terrified as she felt.

"Take her out the back, there's a car waiting. Mironov you're going with her."

She tried to call for help but all that came out were garbled breaths as they pulled her through rooms of darkness. The music was disappearing. Her head started to spin.

Adric impatiently stared at the study doors from where he was sitting across the room. He checked the time. They had been in there for a while now. It wasn't that he didn't trust Mironov, he trusted him with his life, but he didn't trust Mironov with Pandora. His fingers tapped against the armrest.

"You look very sour," Kol observed as he approached.

"Not now, Kol."

"What's the matter?"

Adric's hazel eyes fell on the study door once more, "It's nothing, just—don't you have some girl to bed?"

Kol tilted his head and followed Adric's eyes. "Is there something particularly intriguing about those doors?"

His foot nervously tapped against the floor as he checked the time again. Something was going on that he wasn't a part of. He had a half a mind to go into the study himself but then—suddenly—the study doors opened. He stretched his neck and leaned forward. Only there was no Pandora. Instead he saw his father slink out of the room with President Snow close behind. Pandora was nowhere to be seen, and where was Mironov?

Adric sprang to his feet and followed his father with narrowed eyes.

"Woah, Adric. What is it?"

"Pan—Pandora. Have you seen her?"

Kol moved his eyes around and shrugged, "Um, well I don't know. I haven't really been looking for her."

Adric stepped forward. His father and President Snow were leaving the party, but not out of the front entrance.

"I'm sorry, Kol, I have to go."

He started following them instantly.

They didn't head back into the study, instead they passed through a large greenhouse of roses. Adric lagged behind, not wanting to be seen. They were heading towards the back entrances, the ones that were off limits to guests and press.

It was a clear sky. The silver light from the moon bled down into the alleyway and a biting breeze whipped through the path. Adric agilely hid behind the corner of a wall and peered out. There were two cars. President Snow smiled as he climbed into one with Trajan. The other was filled with shadows that Adric couldn't make out. He clenched his teeth and risked being seen to get a closer look, quickly darting behind a few crates. When he looked back to the second car this time his mouth became dry. This time he could see inside. Pandora was slumped to the side. Mironov was staring out the windows. The blood started rushing to Adric's brain. He should have gone with Pandora when Mironov asked her to be alone. Without thinking he started running, but it was too late. With a roar the cars started. Mironov saw him just as they turned the corner down the alleyway. Adric saw clearly then that he was crying. He watched as Mironov placed his palm against the window. He was mouthing something but before Adric could make it out they were gone.