What would break her?
It was the question that consumed her over the next three days as they waited to be released from their prison of safety.
What would break her into a million pieces so that she was beyond repair, beyond usefulness?
She mentioned it to no one, but it devoured her waking hours and weaved itself throughout her nightmares.
Four more bunker missiles fell over this period, all massive, all very damaging, but there was no urgency to the attack.
The bombs were spread out over the long hours so that just when you thought the raid is over, another blast sent shock waves through your guts.
It felt more designed to keep them in lockdown than to decimate 13.
Cripple the district, yes.
Give the people plenty to do to get the place running again.
But destroy it?
No.
Coin was right on that point. You don't destroy what you want to acquire in the future.
Livia assumed what they really wanted, in the short term, was to stop the Airtime Assaults and keep Livia off the televisions of Panem.
They received next to no information about what was happening.
Their screens never came on, and they got only brief audio updates from Coin about the nature of the bombs.
Certainly, the war was still being waged, but as to its status, they were in the dark.
Inside the bunker, cooperation was the order of the day.
They adhered to a strict schedule for meals and bathing, exercise and sleep.
Small periods of socialization were granted to alleviate the tedium.
Their space became very popular because both children and adults had a fascination with the babies.
The power had been coming and going; sometimes the lamps burned at full brightness, other times they squinted at one another in the brownouts.
At bedtime they turned the lamps to near darkness and activated safety lights in each space.
Livia's muscles were rigid with the tension of holding herself together. The pain over her heart returned, and from it she imagined tiny fissures spreading out into her body- through her torso, down her arms and legs, over her face, leaving it crisscrossed with cracks- one good jolt of a bunker missile and she could shatter into strange, razor-sharp shards.
Unable to sleep, Livia carefully extricated herself from her blanket.
She checked on the sleeping babies in their beds, which were essentially just large baskets.
Livia brushed the hair from Calum's forehead and he let out a huff as his teeny nostrils flared.
She left her section, tiptoeing through the cavern until she found Finnick, feeling for some unspecified reason that he would understand.
He sat under the safety light in his space, knotting his rope, not even pretending to rest.
As Livia whispered her discovery of Snow's plan to break her, it dawned on her.
This strategy was very old news to Finnick.
It was what broke him.
"I'm sorry. That I didn't warn you somehow." he told her.
Suddenly, a memory surfaced.
She strapped to her bed, mad with rage and grief after the rescue.
Finnick was trying to console her about Peeta.
"They'll figure out he doesn't know anything pretty fast. And they won't kill him if they think they can use him against you."
"You did warn me, though. On the hovercraft. Only when you said they'd use Peeta against me, I thought you meant like bait. To lure me into the Capitol somehow." Livia said.
"I shouldn't have said even that. It was too late for it to be of any help to you. Since I hadn't warned you before the Quarter Quell, I should've shut up about how Snow operates", Finnick yanked on the end of his rope, and an intricate knot became a straight line again, "It's just that I didn't understand when I met you. After your first Games, I thought the whole romance was an act. We all expected you'd continue that strategy. But it wasn't until Peeta hit the force field and nearly died that I-"
Finnick hesitated.
Livia thought back to the arena.
How she sobbed when Finnick revived Peeta.
The quizzical look on Finnick's face.
The way he excused her behavior, blaming it on the- very theoretical at the time- pregnancy, "That you what?"
"That I knew I'd misjudged you. That you do love him- anyone paying attention could see how much you care about him." He said gently.
Anyone?
On Snow's visit before the Victory Tour, he challenged her to erase any doubts of her love for Peeta.
"Convince me."
It seemed, under that hot pink sky with Peeta's life in limbo, she finally did.
And in doing so, she gave him the weapon he needed to break her.
Finnick and Livia sat for a long time in silence, watching the knots bloom and vanish, before she could ask, "How do you bear it?"
Finnick looked at her in disbelief.
"I don't, Livia! Obviously, I don't. I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there's no relief in waking", But something in Livia's expression stopped him, "Better not to give in to it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart."
Well, he must know.
Livia took a deep breath, forcing herself back into one piece.
"The more you can distract yourself, the better", he explained, "First thing tomorrow, we'll get you your own rope. Until then, take mine."
Livia began making knots in the rope, the movement like muscle memory.
A headache began in her temple and her mind went back to when Johanna had hit her.
"Finnick." She started after a moment.
Livia wasn't sure she should say anything at all. It wouldn't change anything.
He glanced towards her and she caved, knowing she would want to know.
"When Johanna hit me- Leilani she said something to me when I was kind of out of it." Livia paused.
"I had to do it- I had to do it for Finnick. If I'd known..."
"She said she had to do it for you", Livia explained, "I think- I think she made them pick you up first, Finnick. She was ready to die for you, just not in the games like I'd thought."
Finnick was silent.
"She's a fighter", Livia muttered, before whispering the last part to herself, "They're fighters."
They didn't speak another word.
Livia spent the rest of the night obsessively making knots and by morning her fingers were sore, but she was still holding on.
With twenty-four hours of quiet behind them, Coin finally announced they could leave the bunker.
Their old quarters had been destroyed by the bombings.
Everyone was to follow exact directions to their new compartments.
So Livia and her brothers cleaned their space, as directed, and filed obediently toward the door.
Before she was halfway there, Boggs appeared and pulled her from the line.
He signaled for Gale and Finnick to join them.
People moved aside to let them by.
Out the door, up the stairs, down the hall to one of those multidirectional elevators, and finally they arrived at Special Defense.
Nothing along their route had been damaged, but they were still very deep.
Boggs ushered them into a room virtually identical to Command.
Coin, Plutarch, Haymitch, Cressida, and everybody else around the table looked exhausted.
Someone had finally broken out the coffee- although she was sure it was viewed only as an emergency stimulant- and Plutarch had both hands wrapped tightly around his cup as if at any moment it might be taken away.
There was no small talk.
"We need all four of you suited up and aboveground", the president said, "You have two hours to get footage showing the damage from the bombing, establish that Thirteen's military unit remains not only functional but dominant, and, most important, that the Mockingjay is still alive. Any questions?"
"Can we have a coffee?" Finnick asked.
Steaming cups were handed out.
Livia stared distastefully at the shiny black liquid.
She'd never had a fondness for coffee.
Her father used to brew it- probably one of the only things he did in the kitchen, other than store alcohol.
He would leave the night before and return the next morning after drinking with his buddies and put on a pot- drunker than skunk.
She felt the phantom burn of scalding coffee- her father sloshed around sloppily- against her arm.
She remembered the time Ambrose had accidentally misestimated how hot their fathers mug was and dropped it from his grasp.
She remembered cleaning it up and taking the blame.
She also remembered her father smashing the pot on the ground in front of her feet- the way it seared into her skin.
Livia was brought back by Finnick, sloshing some cream in her cup before reaching into the sugar bowl.
"Want a sugar cube?" he asked in his old seductive voice.
Just like when they'd met, with Finnick offering her sugar.
Surrounded by horses and chariots, costumed and painted for the crowds, before they were allies.
Before she had any idea what made him tick.
The memory actually coaxed a smile out of her.
"Here, it improves the taste." He assured in his real voice, plunking three cubes in her cup.
As she turned to get suited up she caught Gale's gaze of disapproval.
What now?
She had rope burn on her fingers, could barely hold her eyes open, and a camera crew was waiting for her to do something brilliant.
And Snow had Peeta.
Gale could think whatever he wanted for all she cared.
In her new Remake Room in Special Defense, her prep team slapped her into her Mockingjay suit, arranged her hair, and applied minimal makeup before Livia's coffee was even cooled.
In ten minutes, the cast and crew of the next propos were making the circuitous trek to the outside.
Livia slurped her coffee as they traveled, finding that the cream and sugar greatly enhance its flavor.
As she knocked back the dregs that had settled to the bottom of the cup, she felt a slight buzz start to run through her veins.
After climbing a final ladder, Boggs hit a lever that opened a trapdoor.
Fresh air rushed in.
Livia took big gulps and for the first time allowed herself to feel how intensely she hated the bunker.
They emerged into the woods, and her hands ran through the leaves overhead.
Some were just starting to turn.
"What day is it?" Livia asked no one in particular.
Boggs told her September began next week.
September.
That meant Snow had had Peeta in his clutches for five, maybe six weeks.
Livia examined a leaf on her palm and saw she was shaking.
She couldn't will herself to stop.
She blamed the coffee and tried to focus on slowing her breathing, which was far too rapid for her pace.
Debris began to litter the forest floor.
They came to their first crater, thirty yards wide and Livia couldn't tell how deep.
Very.
Boggs said anyone on the first ten levels would likely have been killed.
They skipped the pit and continued on.
"Can you rebuild it?" Gale asked.
"Not anytime soon. That one didn't get much. A few backup generators and a poultry farm", Boggs explained, "We'll just seal it off."
The trees disappeared as they entered the area inside the fence.
The craters were ringed with a mixture of old and new rubble.
Before the bombing, very little of the current 13 was aboveground.
A few guard stations. The training area.
That was never made to stand more than a superficial attack.
"How much of an edge did the boy's warning give you?" Haymitch asked.
"About ten minutes before our own systems would've detected the missiles." Boggs said.
"But it did help, right?" Livia quizzed.
She didn't think she could bear it if he said no.
"Absolutely", Boggs replied, "Civilian evacuation was completed. Seconds count when you're under attack. Ten minutes meant lives saved."
Augustus and her twins, She thought.
And Gale.
They were in the bunker only a couple of minutes before the first missile hit.
Peeta might have saved them.
Add their names to the list of things Livia could never stop owing him for.
Cressida had the idea to film her in front of the ruins of the old Justice Building, which was something of a joke since the Capitol had been using it as a backdrop for fake news broadcasts for years, to show that the district no longer existed.
Now, with the recent attack, the Justice Building sat about ten yards away from the edge of a new crater.
As they approached what used to be the grand entrance, Gale pointed out something and the whole party slowed down.
Livia didn't know what the problem was at first and then she saw the ground strewn with fresh pink and red roses.
"Don't touch them!", Livia yelled, "They're for me!"
The sickeningly sweet smell hits her nose, and her heart began to hammer against her chest.
So she didn't imagine it.
The rose on her dresser.
Before her lied Snow's second delivery.
Long-stemmed pink and red beauties, the very flowers that decorated the set where Peeta and Livia performed their post-victory interview.
Flowers not meant for one, but for a pair of lovers.
Livia explained to the others as best she could.
Upon inspection, they appear to be harmless, if genetically enhanced, flowers.
Two dozen roses.
Slightly wilted.
Most likely dropped after the last bombing.
A crew in special suits collected them and carted them away.
Livia felt certain they would find nothing extraordinary in them, though.
Snow knew exactly what he was doing to her.
It was like having Cinna beaten to a pulp while she watch from her tribute tube.
Designed to unhinge her.
Like then, she tried to rally and fight back.
But as Cressida got Castor and Pollux in place, she felt her anxiety building.
She was so tired, so wired, and so unable to keep her mind on anything but Peeta since she'd seen the roses.
The coffee was a huge mistake.
What she didn't need was a stimulant.
Her body visibly shook and she couldn't seem to catch her breath.
After days in the bunker, she was squinting no matter what direction she turned, and the light hurt.
Even in the cool breeze, sweat trickled down her face.
"So, what exactly do you need from me again?" Livia asked.
"Just a few quick lines that show you're alive and still fighting." Cressida explained.
"Okay." Livia took her position and then she was staring into the red light.
Staring.
Staring.
"I'm sorry, I've got nothing."
Cressida walked up to her, "You feeling okay?"
Livia nodded and she pulled a small cloth from her pocket and blotted Livia's face, "How about we do the old Q-and-A thing?"
"Yeah. That would help, I think." Livia crossed her arms to hide the shaking.
She glanced at Finnick, who gave her a thumbs-up, but he was looking pretty shaky himself.
Cressida was back in position now, "So, Livia. You've survived the Capitol bombing of Thirteen. How did it compare with what you experienced on the ground in Eight?"
"We were so far underground this time, there was no real danger. Thirteen's alive and well and so am-" Livia's voice cut off in a dry, squeaking sound.
"Try the line again", Cressida said, "'Thirteen's alive and well and so am I.'"
Livia took a breath, trying to force air down into her diaphragm.
"Thirteen's alive and so- "
No, that was wrong.
Livia could swear she still smelled those roses.
"Livia, just this one line and you're done today. I promise", Cressida assured, "'Thirteen's alive and well and so am I.'"
Livia swung her arms to loosen herself up, placed her fists on her hips, and then drop them to her sides.
Saliva was filling her mouth at a ridiculous rate and she could feel vomit at the back of her throat.
She swallowed hard and opened her lips so she could get the stupid line out and go hide in the woods and- that was when she starting crying.
It was impossible to be the Mockingjay.
Impossible to complete even this one sentence.
Because now she knew that everything she said would be directly taken out on Peeta.
Result in his torture.
But not his death, no, nothing so merciful as that.
Snow would ensure that his life was much worse than death.
"Cut." Livia could hear Cressida say quietly.
"What's wrong with her?" Plutarch asked under his breath.
"She's figured out how Snow's using Peeta." Finnick sighed.
There was something like a collective sigh of regret from the semicircle of people spread out before her.
Because she knew this now.
Because there would never be a way for her to not know this again.
Because, beyond the military disadvantage losing a Mockingjay entails, she was broken.
Several sets of arms would embrace her, but in the end, the only person she truly wanted to comfort her was Haymitch, because he loved Peeta, too.
She reached out for him and said something like his name and in a moment he was there, holding her and patting her back.
"It's okay. It'll be okay, sweetheart."
He sat with her on a length of broken marble pillar and kept an arm around her while she sobbed.
"I can't do this anymore." Livia muttered.
"I know." he said.
"All I can think of is- what he's going to do to Peeta- because I'm the Mockingjay!" Livia got out.
"I know." Haymitch's arm tightened around her.
"Did you see? How weird he acted? What are they- doing to him?" Livia was gasping for air between sobs, but she managed one last phrase, "It's my fault!"
And then she crossed some line into hysteria and there was a needle in her arm and then the world slipped away.
It must have been strong, whatever they shot into her, because it was a full day before she came to.
Her sleep wasn't peaceful, though. She had the sense of emerging from a world of dark, haunted places where she traveled alone.
Haymitch sat in the chair by Livia's bed, his skin waxen, his eyes bloodshot.
Curled up to him was Calum, his fists full of Haymitch's shirt.
Livia remembered about Peeta and started to tremble again.
Haymitch reached out and squeezed her shoulder, "It's all right. We're going to try to get Peeta out."
"What?"
That made no sense.
"Plutarch's sending in a rescue team. He has people on the inside. He thinks we can get Peeta back alive." he explained.
"Why didn't we before?" Livia quizzed.
"Because it's costly. But everyone agrees this is the thing to do. It's the same choice we made in the arena. To do whatever it takes to keep you going. We can't lose the Mockingjay now. And you can't perform unless you know Snow can't take it out on Peeta", Haymitch offered her a cup, "Here, drink something."
She slowly sat up and took a sip of water, "What do you mean, costly?"
He shrugged, "Covers will be blown. People may die. But keep in mind that they're dying every day. And it's not just Peeta; we're getting Leilani out for Finnick, too."
"Where is he?" Livia asked.
"Behind that screen, sleeping his sedative off. He lost it right after we knocked you out", Haymitch said and Livia smiled a little, feeling a bit less weak, "Yeah, it was a really excellent shoot. You two cracked up and Boggs left to arrange the mission to get Peeta. We're officially in reruns."
"Well, if Boggs is leading it, that's a plus." Livia jeered.
"Oh, he's on top of it. It was volunteer only, but he pretended not to notice me waving my hand in the air", Haymitch quipped, "See? He's already demonstrated good judgment."
Something was wrong.
Haymitch was trying a little too hard to cheer her up.
It was not really his style.
"So who else volunteered?"
"I think there were seven altogether." he said evasively.
Livia got a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"Who else, Haymitch?" She insisted.
"Gale was the first to step and..." Haymitch paused.
"And?" Livia exclaimed.
"Augustus." Haymitch spat it out.