Hebe took a deep breath as she walked towards the front of the stage in District 2, once again ignoring the faces on those boards.
The Mayor had a slight shake in his voice as he introduced her, and Hebe knew exactly how he felt. His daughter was one of the tributes, the one that haunted Hebe every night when she tried to close her eyes.
She hadn't bothered taking Ambrosia's cards this time, and whilst she had seemed insulted at first, Mags had given her a look that told her to trust her tribute. Unfortunately, it meant she had nothing to do with her hands to stop them from shaking. She firmly laced them in front of her and scanned the crowds.
It was a strange mixture of emotions this time. Not like in District 3 where they had all hated her, but not like in District 11 where they loved her. Instead, it was roughly split between sympathy, anger, and apathy.
Hebe cleared her throat, before beginning to speak.
"Hello. My name is Hebe Cross, and I'm here today to apologise to you all," She looked at the faces once again, this time they all had the same expression. Confusion. This is not how the speeches were supposed to start.
"I want to apologise for killing your son, Icarus. I- I know it may not seem like it from the footage, but it is something I have come to regret doing. It was not a matter of survival, it was about callous revenge, and I'm sorry that he didn't make it."
Hebe looked down at her hands almost to simulate the turning of a cue card. It was taking all of her mental effort to not fully open the box in her mind holding the memory of Gaia. She was just trying to crack it open slightly, take a small peak inside, and then close it back up again.
"As for… as for Gaia," Her voice cracked, but she continued, "I also want to apologise. I'm sorry I couldn't protect her. I tried. I really did. If I could go back…" Her eyes wandered over to the woman who stood beneath Gaia's picture, and she could just make out the tears in her eyes.
"If I could go back, I'd try harder. I'd protect her until the end, and then I'd let her take my place, so she was standing here instead of me. Because she didn't deserve what happened to her. She was a beautiful, kind, intelligent soul, and she deserved so much better than what she got," Tears began to well in her own eyes, but Hebe kept pushing forwards through the speech.
"She had so much potential, and she would've grown to become a brilliant person. And I'm sorry that I couldn't save her, and I wish I could've watched her grow up." Hebe looked down at her shoes, quickly wiping her tears away with the back of her hand.
"Thank you." She finished, not bothering this time with the country's motto, before walking back to her spot on the stage.
The entire square was silent, as they watched her walk away, until, slowly, they began to clap. It started off as just a few of them, and then it progressed until the entire square was filled with uproarious applause.
The Mayor, Gaia's own father, was just as stunned, and Hebe could spot him wiping away his own tears, before hesitantly continuing the ceremony, picking up the plaque and carrying it over to her.
He handed it over to her, his hands trembling all the while. She looked at the man sadly.
"I'm sorry for your loss." She whispered as he passed over the heavy piece of stone.
"Thank you. Thank you so much." The man replied softly, before masking his devastation with a grin for the cameras, Hebe doing the same.
She awoke that night screaming. Sobbing. Sweating. Shaking.
Hebe glanced around her, half expecting to see the marshlands of the swamp from her arena, to feel the twigs digging into her back, or to hear the sound of the Capitol anthem.
But of course, none of those things happened. Because she was in her room on the train, alone. She was alone, and they were all dead. And she'd killed them, hadn't she? She wouldn't be alive without their deaths, so wasn't that technically murder?
Hebe looked around the room, her eyes landing on the orchid on the coffee table. It was a gift, she reminded herself. A gift from someone who cared about her. Why would people care about her? Didn't they know she was a murderer?
Her breath began to grow more rapid, and she jumped out of the bed, bringing half of the covers with her. She knew she couldn't stay there, but where could she go?
She ran out of the compartment, sprinting to the next room down like she had done the night before last, and stood in front of the sliding door.
What was she doing here? He didn't want to see her. He knew what she was, what she had done. He must hate her.
Tears began to stream down her face as she slowly mounted into hysteria.
And then the door slid open and she was face to face with Finnick.
Hebe didn't say anything, opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water, struggling to find any words to explain what was going on. Luckily, Finnick was quick to leap into action, reaching for her face and holding it firmly between his hands.
He looked to her for permission to step forward, to comfort her further, and she nodded. He stepped towards her so they were both out in the corridor, as he swept his fingers across her cheeks to clear them of her tears.
"Finnick, I- I- I'm sorry." She hiccuped, not able to stop herself from sobbing.
"Shhh, it's ok, you have nothing to apologise for," He replied softly, beginning to wrap an arm around her head to bring her into his shoulder.
She quickly grabbed his forearms, stepping back to look him squarely in the eyes.
"No. No, you don't understand. I killed her. You saw me. I killed them all. You hate me, they all hate me, they know what I did."
She shook slightly as she said it, but didn't break eye contact with him, even as she saw his expression change, almost like something was cracking within him. Hebe closed her eyes, readying herself for his rejection, for him to reaffirm everything that she already knew, that she was responsible for them dying.
But he didn't. He placed his hands firmly on her shoulders, a finger reaching up to play with one of her pigtails. She opened her eyes back up, feeling as though she had been punched in the gut as she saw the compassion in his green depths.
"You're not at fault for what happened in the games. And you didn't kill her, you did everything you could to save her." He said, his voice quiet but firm. Finnick looked at her searchingly, before pulling her back into his body, and this time she didn't resist, burying her head in the crook of his neck.
"But I still couldn't do it," She sniffed, her voice slightly muffled, "I still couldn't save her…"
"But you tried," He said, running a hand through her hair as he held her, "And that's what matters. We all know you would've sacrificed yourself for that girl in a heartbeat."
He pulled away from her slightly to look her directly in the eyes, taking her tear-stained cheeks in his hands, holding her so delicately like he feared she may shatter.
"You could never make me hate you, ok?"
Hebe nodded, finding she couldn't help but believe him as he said those words, the look on his face holding such sincerity. She smiled weakly at him, and Finnick responded by bringing his lips down to press a kiss into her hair.
"C'mon. You can stay with me." He said, and whilst his tone sounded no-nonsense, they both knew he would let her make the choice for herself. He was always considerate like that.
But Hebe knew she didn't want to be alone tonight. And she was slowly beginning to realise that there was no-one she trusted more with her safety than Finnick. So, she grabbed onto his outstretched hand, and followed him into his room.
She climbed into bed first, and he soon followed, wrapping an arm around her just like she had done for him only a couple of nights before.
"Is this ok?" Finnick asked, holding her fingers and interlacing a few with his own. Hebe nodded against his chest, tentatively closing her eyes, listening to his heartbeat just like she had instructed him to do.
"Promise you won't leave me?" She asked him quietly.
And just as she was drifting off, she heard him whisper his reply:
"Promise."
That wasn't the last time they both shared a bed. The next night, Finnick had found himself following her to her compartment minutes after she had left the dinner table, and knocking on the door.
Hebe, of course, let him in. She was finding it difficult to refuse him lately, not that she had any reason to.
She wanted company at the moment. The Capitol had long been looming over their heads like a dark cloud, and in the morning that cloud would break, showering them in rain. Hebe tried to cast it from her mind, but the events in district 1 hadn't exactly helped with her positive attitude.
She hadn't thought it possible for a district to hate her even more than 3, but clearly that was an incorrect assumption. They were practically booing before she even stepped on the stage, the career district of one clearly not content with angry silence like they were in 3.
It didn't get much better after that either. She had sat in the corner of the party just like she had before, and shrunk back behind her mentors when they went for their visit in victors village. Luckily Mags and Finnick didn't get along too well with the victors from one either, so their stay was short-lived.
Her mentors had assured her that they would get over it one day and that she shouldn't concern herself with how they felt about her. But for Hebe it was less about being upset they didn't like her, and more anger at how they were dealing with the situation.
They were careers, victors. They had all killed in their own games, likely managing to rack up way more kills than Hebe had. Most careers kept running totals, boasting to one another about how many 12 year olds they'd speared that day. But now, all of a sudden, when she does it, out of fairly justified revenge, it's wrong, and they shun her for it.
It pissed her off.
But she tried to put it out of her mind. Because she knew she had much bigger issues to deal with than stuck up pricks from district 1. And the way she put it out of her mind was by talking to her mentor.
And they talked for hours. His arm wrapped around her or her head on his shoulder. They talked about their lives before the games, their families, their friends, the academy, anything and everything they could think of.
"What's your talent?" She asked, peering up at him. Of course, they had spoken many times about her talent, and the gift he had gotten her, but she suddenly realised that Hebe couldn't remember for the life of her what his talent was.
"Poetry." He responded, a smug grin on his face.
Hebe snorted, "Poetry?"
"Yes, poetry! What's wrong with that?" He asked, laughing at her disdainful expression.
"It's, just, so… you know…" She said, unable to properly explain how she felt about it, and why it was so funny to her.
"You forget that not everyone had an obvious, natural talent like you do."
"Aw, is that a compliment?"
"Hmm, I suppose it would be, apart from the fact I haven't yet heard you play…" He said, giving her a sly look. Hebe rolled her eyes at him.
"I thought you wanted it to be a surprise?"
"Well, yes, I do. But I'm also eagerly awaiting my private concert."
"Which you will get when we're back in four," She said, laughing quietly at the sulky look on his face.
"Besides," She said, nudging him, "Don't try to change the subject. You still haven't told me about your poetry."
"Yeah, well it wasn't exactly my choice of talent. Snow thought it would be a good idea."
Hebe hummed in understanding, not that she should really be all that surprised. It seemed like exactly the sort of thing the Capitol would love, and it fit right into the persona he had curated for them.
"I don't mind it though. At first I hated it, but it's grown on me over the years. I'm actually pretty good now I'll have you know," His smug grin was back, replacing the pensive expression that had previously covered his face.
"Somehow I don't believe you."
"No? Do you not think I'm poetic?" He smirked down at her, and she rolled her eyes at him. She did think he was poetic. But she wasn't about to tell him that and send his ego rocketing up to the moon.
"I think you're a pain in the ass…"
"Watch what you say, sweetheart, I'll kick you out of my bed." He replied, no real threat in his voice.
Hebe pulled the duvet further over her body, burying herself more into the covers before sighing and saying, "Nah, you'd miss me too much."
Finnick followed her example, settling down and resting his chin on her head.
"Shut up. I'll show you my poems one day. That'll prove you wrong."
"Can't wait."
The next morning Finnick slipped back to his own room in the early hours, narrowly avoiding Ambrosia's joyous wake up call. Hebe thought it might have been the cheeriest the woman had been, and then she realised it was because they were returning to the luxury of the Capitol rather than 'suffering' through the poverty the districts had to offer.
Nevertheless, Hebe had no energy to argue or chastise her escort, so instead she dressed herself and made her way towards the dining carriage.
It was a strange sense of deja vu that swept over her as she sat down at the table, like she had suddenly been sent back in time four months, back to the day she arrived in the Capitol for the first time.
She remembered that breakfast vividly, the way Finnick had snapped at her for rolling her eyes at him. You couldn't exactly blame her though, he did always treat her like a child before the games.
"Is there a problem, Cross?"
Hebe snorted in laughter, remembering the harshness of his tone. At the time it had been irritating, but now she just found it funny. It was strange, but she couldn't imagine him talking to her like that now.
Across the table, the man in question had noticed her laughter, and was looking at her curiously, his own lip curling in amusement at her expression.
"You good, Cross?" He asked, and it was such a similar phrase to what he had said before that she couldn't help but let out a small giggle. It was a sound so out of place for her that it cut through the idle chatter from the rest of the table.
She was about to enter into a fit of laughter until she noticed the concerned looks of her stylist and escort. They must've thought she had gone mad. Hebe took a deep breath, composing herself.
"Sorry. Yep. All good here." She responded, holding a thumbs up and grinning awkwardly. They all looked at her for a moment, before resuming their conversations for the remainder of the meal.
Hebe stayed silent all the while, eating her toast, and trying to not to fall too far into reminiscing, lest she dig up something she didn't want to remember right now.
Once she was finished she excused herself, and walked all the way to the back of the train where she always tended to find herself.
And, as always, she never got her moment alone, because her mentor had once again materialised in front of her, and was now moving to sit beside her, that bemused expression still on his face.
"We have to stop meeting like this, sweetheart," Finnick sighed dramatically, winking at her coyly.
"You mean you have to stop following me back here."
"You love my company."
"You know what I'd love? For you to stop stalking me." She said firmly, raising her eyebrows at him.
"Stalking?!" He cried, turning up the drama and holding a hand to his chest. At least he had the decency to act offended.
"Yep. You are a massive stalker. Not even your little fangirls could compare."
"Now that's just not true. You should know that, you are the president of the Finnick Odair fan club after all." He said, smirking at her.
"Oh no!" Hebe said sarcastically, holding up her hands in mock surrender, "You've discovered my secret identity!"
"I knew it!" He laughed, pointing at her as if he were a police detective who'd finally caught their suspect, "Seriously though, are you alright?" He asked, his tone growing less amused.
She sighed at him, "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."
"You sure? Because now would be a great time to tell me you've finally cracked."
Hebe rolled her eyes, "I'm certain I'm ok. I just remembered something funny is all."
"Huh. Care to share with the class?" He asked, resting his head on his hand.
"Fine. If you insist. You remember the day we got to the Capitol, at breakfast?" She started.
"Yeah, I do. What's so special about that?"
"I'm getting there, give me a minute. At breakfast you were giving us that speech, you know," She then put on her best Finnick impression, placing her hands on her hips and imitating his 'harsh glare'.
"'Don't argue with your prep team, rumours spread fast in the Capitol,' That speech."
He grinned at her before replying, "Yeah, I think I know the one."
"And then you got mad at me, because I rolled my eyes at you."
"Yeah, you were a fucking pain in the ass," Finnick chided, rolling his own eyes this time.
"I was following your example. Anyway, then you snapped at me and you did the whole-"
"Is there a problem, Cross?" He cut her off, perfectly replicating his snarky tone and facial expression.
Hebe laughed in surprise, "Yes! That's the one!"
He joined in her laughter, his expression melting from the irritated one to his more natural grin.
"Wait so that's what you were laughing at?" Finnick asked, now feeling even more confused than before.
"Well, yeah. I just remembered it, and how mad you were, and I don't know. It's just funny to me now."
"I suppose it is quite funny now."
"At the time I was so pissed." She said, chuckling and leaning back into her seat.
"I know you were," He smirked, "That's why it was so funny."
Hebe laughed along with him, then gasped loudly as she realised something, pointing to the boy with an accusatory glare, "You asshole! You were just trying to rile me up!" She shoved him but he just laughed at her pushing her back, although not quite as hard.
"Ok, ok, maybe I was, but I didn't expect you to actually argue with me…"
"You are a conniving little snake." She said, sticking her nose up like Ambrosia often did.
"Aw. You're too sweet sometimes Hebe," He said, pretending to wipe away a tear.
She was about to shove him again, but just then Ambrosia stepped through the door, informing them that they had arrived.
They were back in the Capitol.