It was stupid to trust him. She knew she shouldn't trust him.

She should trust Neal Cassidy – the male tribute chosen from District 12. (Well, trust as well as anyone in the Hunger Games should trust another.) Her mentor, August, highly suggested she build a strong relationship with the tribute from the moment the three of them met. But, no. She's had too much of a history with him – too many bad memories with him that Neal was the very last person she'd wish to form an alliance with.

She had decided that she'd go into the games the way she felt all her life – alone. Alone, yet strong. And all through the training, she proved that she could do it alone.

But the last night before the games, when everyone was having their meals and making their final strategies, she slipped away to watch the sunset for (potentially) the final time. As she climbed the steps to the top of the building, to feel the sun on her skin and the wind in her hair, she was taken aback when she saw the smooth-talking male tribute from District 4 already sitting there.

About to turn around, she heard the boy say, in a low voice, "It looks pretty tonight, doesn't it?" He didn't look at her, still staring out at the sunset. She turned back towards the door, deciding it would be better to go back downstairs to August and Neal when he continued with a bitter laugh. "A bit ironic, wouldn't you say?"

Against her better judgment, she took a few steps towards the boy and leaned on a wall. He finally turned to look at her. His eyes were red and blotchy, and she reached forward to squeeze his shoulder on instinct. "Are you okay?"

He nodded, although it wasn't very convincing. "Are you?"

"Not really," she admitted, finally sitting down next to him. "But I suppose I brought this upon myself."

"Aye?"

"I volunteered as the tribute from district 12." She shrugged. "It seemed like the right thing to do. The girl chosen was a little 12-year-old."

"My brother volunteered for me when I was 12." The boy said. "He died in the games. He died for me to live. And how do I repay him?" He let out a breath while shaking his head. "Five years later, my name was drawn again. It feels like he died in vain, and now I am following his footsteps."

"You haven't lost the games yet." She tried, although he continued to shake his head. "We haven't even seen the arena yet. And there's got to beone winner."

"You can say that all you want, but I was only given a training score of 10." He ran his hand through his hair. "My good looks and charms will only take me so far when we're actually in the arena."

Emma rolled her eyes, but smiled anyway. "A 10 is a pretty amazing score. Besides, I saw you with that hook in the training. I'm sure that's going to be worth something."

He shrugged, turning back towards the skyline. "To officially win the games, I'd have to kill someone. I don't think I'd be willing to do that."

"You seemed so cocky in your interview, like you spent your whole life training for this."

"All for the sponsors," the boy replied. "Who do you think they'll help more? The sad tribute who doesn't want to kill or fight or the confident tribute who's been preparing for this moment his entire life?"

"True."

"It's a game, inside and out." The sun had set, and the two tributes sat out in the dark moonlight. "I'm Killian," he finally said, putting out his hand. "Killian Jones."

"Emma Swan," she replied, taking and shaking it. "Good luck tomorrow."

"You, too, Swan."

They sat in silence after that, imagining their fate the following morning. She'd steal a glance over at Killian every once in a while, only to find streaks of tears down his cheeks.

Killian didn't speak again until he shook her shoulder, jolting her awake. "I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to frighten you." She brushed her hand through her hair and tried to figure out her surrounding. "You fell asleep a bit ago, and I thought you might be more comfortable in a bed."

She nodded, taking his outstretched hand to help her stand up. As soon as she stood, she nearly fell into his arms. "Sorry…"

He gave her a smirk before steadying her. "If you wanted to get close to me, Swan, you only needed to ask." His face dropped slightly. "Although, your timing is a bit disappointing."

She started walking towards the stairs, placing her hand on the handle before turning back towards him. "I'll see you tomorrow, Killian." With that, she opened the door and followed the stairs back to her room.

—

August kept telling her to eat her breakfast, that she didn't know when she'd eat again, once she was in the arena. She watched as Neal shoveled eggs into his mouth, unable to comprehend how he could stomach food at all right now. She was too nervous to even think about being hungry. After another evil eye from her mentor, she grabbed a piece of toast and nibbled on it.

And then, it was time to go to the arena.

All the tributes from each district were placed on a shuttle. She buckled herself in as she looked around, trying to remember who everyone was and what their skill was. She almost missed Killian stopping in front of her. "Ready, Swan?"

"About as ready as I'm sure you are, Jones."

Killian winked before taking his seat next to the red-haired tribute from his district. She jumped in her seat as Neal leaned over. "I thought you said you didn't want to have any allies in the game."

"Killian and I are not working together. And neither are we."

Neal put his hands up, feigning ignorance. "August told us he won because he pretended to be dating the girl from our district. Why don't you want to do that?"

She shook her head, holding onto the handles as the shuttle started to move. "I'm not a good enough actress." She then turned to face him. "When we're in the arena, please don't follow me."

"But—"

"That girl – Tamara? – from district 10 looks nice. Why don't you try teaming up with her?"

Neal sighed but straightened his head. "You've always been so stubborn."

"Neal, we're not doing this right now."

He snapped back to her. "When would be a better time then? When I'm dead? When you're dead? Both of us can't live, and there's a good chance neither of us will make it past day 2."

It was a slap in the face, but also a wake-up call. "Well, good luck to you, too, Neal."

The shuttle stopped and they unbuckled. She didn't even look at the other district 12 tribute as she got out of her seat, budging in front of all the other people to get out of the shuttle altogether.

She was standing in a white room below the arena, 24 glass tubes standing tall in a circle – the last moments she'd spend feeling safe in this world would be spent in one of those tubes. She hurried to a shuttle and, right before she stepped onto the platform, she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Neal, just go to your – oh, Killian." She said, turning around to face the district 4 boy.

He dropped his hand, bringing it up to scratch behind his ear. "I wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed pretty upset on the shuttle over here."

She sighed as she crossed her arms. "I'm just nervous, I think." Her eyes shot over to Neal whispering to Tamara, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. While she didn't want an alliance with him, she couldn't help the slight jealousy that it wasn't even a minute after getting here that he was already trying to align with someone else.

Killian followed her eyes to see the two people talking before turning back to her. "I had a piece of advice from my mentor that I'm going to give to you."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Seems like a bad idea telling it the competition."

Killian smiled and let out a nervous laugh. "It's merely advice, not my strategy." He waited until she nodded before he continued. "Don't let the other tributes get to you."

"Huh?"

"Whatever that boy told you that has you so vexed, don't think about it. If you're going to be so distracted by the other tributes, you're not going to see them coming."

"Your mentor gave good advice," Emma admitted. "My mentor's advice was to form an alliance with that ass and make everyone think we're in love with each other."

"Now that was telling strategy, Swan." Killian laughed. "By the looks of Neal and Tamara, it seems like you're not going to be taking an alliance?"

"There's not a second in hell that I would team up with Neal."

He opened his mouth to return with a comment, but suddenly she was ushered to the 24th platform. As the glass door shut, she took one final look at Killian. He was looking up at the sky, both of his fingers crossed as he began whispering to himself, as if trying to calm himself down. She turned to look at the other tributes, seeing some of them with their eyes closed, a girl from district 10 with tear streaks down her face, and then finally Neal.

And then the platform began to rise.

—

Day 4 in the Arena: 6 Tributes Left.

She didn't realize how trying the games would be.

She barely had any run-ins with any of the other tributes, just a girl from district 2 and a boy from district 8. Both were clearly hurt, but she didn't stay to help. She couldn't decide if that was worse than actually killing them on spot. Since she wasn't actively trying to further herself in the game, she had more environmental trials than she was expecting – a face off with a large dog-like creature with sharp teeth and red eyes and a match against birds that looked sweet, but certainly weren't when they dove after her and pecked her with their pointed beaks.

Because she wasn't killing anyone, she wasn't getting much from the sponsors – not that she really needed it. She had learned which berries and plants were the ones she could eat and there were a surprisingly amount of streams to fill up her canteen.

If she were to be totally honest, she had gotten a little lonely, which was surprising, since she had grown up alone all her life.

Tamara and Neal were still alive, along with Killian and the two tributes from district 1. She didn't know if she felt relieved that the boy from district 4 was still alive, or if she should be worried that she had another tribute to worry about.

Currently, she was hiding behind a rock when she heard a rustling behind her. She quickly turned around, holding out the knife she kept by her side, despite not wanting to use it.

Neal jumped out of the bush with a sword pointed straight at her. "Emma?"

"Neal?"

He looked like he wanted to run up to her and hug her, but instead he kept his sword pointed at her. He had a black eye, his cheek had one too many open gashes on it, and it looked like he had a bite-mark from one of the dog-like animals she escaped from. "Look at you," she said, a frown turning up on her face.

Slowly, he lowered his sword. "It doesn't hurt. I was sent some lotion from August that is keeping it numb. Have you gotten anything?"

"No."

It was then that they both knew whom August was trying to keep in the games.

"Where's Tamara?" she asked.

Neal shrugged. "We didn't really stay together past that first day. We chose to go our separate ways. Where's Killian?"

"How should I know?"

He took a step towards her. "Well, if neither of us are aligned with anyone else…"

She shot her knife back up. "Just because we're not actively working with someone doesn't mean I want us to work together."

Neal stopped where he was. "August said it's better to work in pairs."

She shrugged. "Looks to me like I've been doing just fine on my own, while you've clearly had your share of trials."

"Have you had to kill anyone?"

She thinks of the boy and girl she left to die. "Yeah. You?"

"Yes." He shook his head. "I really didn't think you had it in you."

She swallowed, but held her knife steady. "I'm going to give you 30 seconds to run away from me. The next time I see you, you won't be so lucky."

Neal stood dumbfounded for a second before finally deciding to take her advice and turn around, running far away from her.

"Don't let the other tributes get to you," she thought as she saw him run away.

—

Day 11 in the Arena: 3 Tributes Left.

Neal was dead. She found out last night when his face lit up the arena sky. She wondered why she was suddenly given a roll and butter that evening. Now she knew why.

She was the only tribute from district 12 that sponsors had left to help.

Killian was still alive, and so was Tamara, the other 21 having been dead for days. She had more environmental trials – fights with hurricanes and a nasty bee-like insect. She felt like she was getting more and more paranoid as the days went on. Was it weird that she hadn't had more contact with other tributes? It seemed odd to her, that she didn't have many more meetings with other children, despite it being a closed arena.

Currently, she was lying underneath a low rock, being blocked from rain and giving herself a tiny break. She wouldn't admit it out loud, but everything was finally starting to get to her. Her body just felt exhausted, and she had little fight left in her. She wasn't even sure if she would be able to defend herself if she came in contact with another trial, let alone a person.

It was for that reason that she barely even shuddered when she saw a pair of feet jump onto the grass next to her before stumbling to the ground. The person stayed on the ground, facing away from her and against her better judgment, she came out from her rock and tip toed towards the person.

When she saw it was Killian, she pocketed her knife and ran to kneel next to him, completely ignoring the rain. His bodysuit was all bloody, and he had no hand on his left arm. His stump wasn't bleeding anymore, but it was still crusted with dried blood. "Oh, Killian, what happened?"

"Swan?" he asked. His eyes had been closed, as if trying to ignore the pain. "This old thing?" He tried to joke, a smile not quite reaching his features.

She brushed his hair out of his eyes. "Who did this to you?"

"Gold."

"From district 1?"

He nodded before finally opening his eyes. "I was wondering if I'd ever see you again."

"You've thought of me in here?"

"A few times," he admitted, raising a corner of his cheek to create a smirk. "Have you thought of me?"

She helped him stand up and guide him to the rock she had been hiding under, encouraging him to sit under it. "Maybe subconsciously. I tried not to think of anyone in here, but I'd look for your picture every night and always sighed in relief when it wasn't up there."

"I did that, too."

The rain was still pouring, but she didn't move to join him. Instead, she reached forward for his stump, ready to clean it. As soon as she touched it, he pulled it back, hiding it from her. "It's ugly."

"It needs to be clean before an infection starts."

"An infection won't matter. I'm going to die anyway."

She reached forward and forced his arm out, despite his verbal protests. "Killian, you've been out here for 11 days and haven't been killed yet. There's a good chance you're going to live."

Killian sighed, closing his eyes in pain as she started to rub the scab away. "Have you… You know." She asked, knowing he had planned to not kill anyone here.

"Killed someone?" She confirmed her question before he answered. "No."

"And you're still out here?" He winced as she brushed another piece off his arm.

Unclenching his teeth, he nodded. "I got in a few fist-fights with some people, but I was able to outwit them instead of kill them."

"How did you lose your hand?"

"Ah, now that's quite a story."

She continued to clean his arm as she listened to a tale with a fight against the oldest boy, Gold, from district 1. He cut off his hand after Killian had made a rude remark against the district 1 girl – apparently his girlfriend – and, with a quick swipe of a sword, his hand was gone.

"Don't cry," he said, reaching with his right hand towards her face to wipe away the tear she didn't know how escaped her eye. "I still have one."

She shook her head. "The game is just getting to me."

They were silent for a bit when the rain started to hail. "Swan, get under here."

"No, you need it more than me."

"You're going to get sick if you stay out there."

"And you're going to get an infection if we switch spots."

Killian stared into her eyes before whispering, "There's enough room for both of us."

Emma was about to shake her head no, but the hail was becoming colder, and she needed to get out of it before the hail drops turned sharp. "Oh… Okay."

The did a bit a shuffling until he was behind her, wrapping his stump around her stomach as they lied on their sides. "Comfy?"

Emma nodded, closing her eyes. "You?"

"Enough."

—

Day 14 in the Arena: 3 Tributes Left.

Their hiding spot was good. She would go out for berries for them to eat while Killian began making them a make-shift pillow and blanket from leaves. It was a sort of domesticity that they fell into, and she was surprised to find comfort in being with him. Although they never technically formed an "alliance", they also weren't actively trying to go their separate ways.

Tamara was still out there – her picture never showed up on the ceiling. A couple times, they talked about her and what she must be doing right then – if she was looking for them or if she was just trying to wait it out like she and Killian were, if she was giving all of Panem the show she and Killian weren't…

She wouldn't say she felt happy, but she also wouldn't say her time alone with Killian was bad.

—

Day 16 in the Arena: 3 Tributes Left.

The sun was shining and there was no signs of artificial animals coming to harm them, so she and Killian decided it was time to go for a walk and refill their canteens.

They were down by the stream, washing off the grime on their hands and filling their canteens when an arrow flew by Killian's head. His head snapped towards the direction it came from and grabbed her hand. "It's Tamara!" he yelled. "Come on, Emma!"

They started off, running together as they dodged trees and jumped stumps. Killian looked behind him to see Tamara running after them, shooting arrows towards them.

They took a left and began running back towards their hide out when Killian shouted, his chest thrusting forward and falling to the ground.

An arrow was shot right through his heart.

She stopped in her tracks, furious as she watched blood seep out of him and saw the blank stare in his eyes. She turned around suddenly to find Tamara high on a rock, her arrow now pointed at her.

"You killed him!" Emma shouted.

"And now I'm going to kill you and get out of here."

She shook her head, reaching into her back pocket and taking out the knife, throwing it at Tamara without even thinking.

It hit her straight on her chest, causing Tamara to fall backwards towards the ground before she could shoot the arrow at her.

Her eyes opened wide as she realized what she did, running over to Tamara to see if she was still alive.

She wasn't.

Three went down to two went down to one in a matter of minutes.

She won the game. She was getting out.

She heard a helicopter coming towards her and suddenly a bright light showered her as a ladder floated down.

She won the game.

—

"Was it your strategy to stay away from other tributes?" the interviewer asked.

She swallowed, but shook her head. "Not really. I just didn't go looking for them, either."

"How does it feel to have won the game without killing anyone for over two weeks?"

She shook her head again. "I killed three people in the game."

"We know about the boy and girl you left to die, but they weren't going to live, regardless if you helped them." He leaned forward. "According to the games, you've only killed one person to win – a new record."

She didn't respond, didn't want to give them a reason to think she was proud of winning. So, instead, she sat there, waiting for the interviewer to change the subject.

"Let's see some of the footage of your game, shall we?" he finally said, gesturing towards the screen.

She watched as videos of her played on the screen. She remembered some of the moments – the attacks of the birds and her run-in with Neal – but some she must have blocked out from her mind, like the time she climbed a tree and hid while the girl from district 5 was crushed with a rock below her. It wasn't until the montage of her and Killian showed up that she looked away.

The interviewer noticed he got a reaction out of her and paused it on a screen of her sleeping in front of Killian, his stump flung over her body as they rested away from the storm. "This was the moment all of Panem fell in love with you two."

She didn't reply.

"In all your interviews, you said you weren't going to pair up with anyone. What changed your mind about Killian?"

She swallowed, still looking at the screen as she responded. "I guess it was the right time and person for me to align with someone." Her eyes began to fill with tears, thinking of the 17-year-old who died too soon trying to save her.

The interviewer leaned closer, noticing her reaction. "Did you come to care for him?" She wiped away her tears as she nodded. "Did you love him?"

"I'm a 16-year-old orphan. I don't know what love is."

The interviewer sat back. "It seems to me that you do." He then turned towards the screen as they continued to watch her relationship with Killian grow until the fateful arrow that ended it all.

And then she got to watch herself throw a knife straight at Tamara's heart.

She clenched her eyes at that. She felt like she wanted to hurl as the interviewer said, "You won The Hunger Games, avenging the tribute you loved."

She won the game, but she thought it might have hurt less if she hadn't.

She was going to do everything in her power to make sure she was the last winner, so no other children would have to kill someone they cared for in order to win the games again.

The interviewer was wrong. Her revenge for the one she loved was just beginning.