warning: mentions of drug abuse and child abuse

Stiles had the last watch of the night. He leaned against the cave wall as he nervously bit the side of his right index finger. Scott had always said that was a weird habit, but he just never had the motivation to break it. He certainly didn't care right now. The remaining three people in the alliance had exhausted themselves the night before and Isaac took first watch. Stiles still felt all cried out. Though he could no longer cry, there was still burning ache inside his chest. Before he had been reaped, he never thought the death of Erica Reyes would leave him so empty and distraught.

Well, when you go through hell together, you tend to grow close quickly. That's what he's heard, at least, and now he had sufficient evidence.

It was almost morning, or he assumed so. Several hours had passed. His gaze, which had previously been fixed on a random spot on the wall, slid over to where Lydia and Isaac were sleeping. They were curled up in the corner with the sleeping bags acting as blankets. The redhead didn't want to go to bed in her sleeping bag without Erica beside her, and the two boys understood completely. The island seemed to be getting progressively warmer anyway and so the heat-conserving properties of being inside the bags weren't needed. In fact, Lydia had moved in a way so that one of her legs was out in the open.

Stiles straightened his posture in alarm at the sight of her badly treated wound. They had nearly forgotten about it in the hysteria after the battle. She had clearly done something with it as there was gauze wrapped around a section of her calf, but there was dried blood around the edges. Another sickly-looking substance seemed to be present as well, and although it was a very small amount, it worried him. Stiles got up and gently nudged Lydia's shoulder until she opened her eyes groggily.

"Stiles?" she whispered, eyeing the still sleeping Isaac beside her, "What is it? Morning?"

"I think so, but I didn't actually check," he replied quietly, "I just… your leg needs to be fixed."

She glanced down and widened her eyes slightly at the sight of her wound.

"Yeah, I didn't take too long on it yesterday," Lydia stated softly, "It was sort of the last thing on my mind."

"Well, it shouldn't be. It must hurt," he said, eyebrows furrowed in concern, "C'mon, I'll redress it."

She rolled her eyes but began slowly emerging from underneath the blanket and away from Isaac.

"I can do it myself, you know," she told him confidently.

"Yeah, I know," Stiles replied, allowing a small smile, "but wouldn't it be easier if I did it?"

She didn't respond but instead returned the tiny smirk as she sat against the wall and propped her leg onto his lap. He couldn't help but laugh at the action before quickly forcing himself to sober up. It didn't feel right. Instead, he swallowed anxiously and gently peeled the soiled bandage from her skin. Lydia winced but made no sound. She stared at him thoughtfully as he began cleaning the wound.

"You're not blaming yourself, are you?" she asked, "Please don't be that stupid."

Stiles stopped his actions and caught her gaze, licking his lips nervously.

"She died for me, how can I not?" he finally replied before beginning again, "I don't understand why she didn't just throw a knife or something. Why did she have to jump in the way?"

There was a moment of silence before Lydia spoke.

"It was a split-second decision, and those aren't always the most logical," she told him quietly, "She saw you in danger and did the first thing that popped into her head. Wouldn't you have done the same?"

"Of course, but…" he sighed, "It still doesn't feel right."

"I know," Lydia responded softly, "I can't help but think that if I hadn't hesitated to kill the other Career, then I wouldn't have gotten hurt and distracted everyone. But I know I can't afford to dwell on that."

"Erica would want us to keep fighting," he stated as he finished wrapping up her leg.

Lydia pulled her leg back so she could sit cross-legged and helped him put their things back into the bag. They let their hands brush against each other's effortlessly until Stiles took hold of her wrist and rubbed it gently with his thumb for a moment. She looked at him in half confusion and half understanding. An oxymoron, he supposed, but true nonetheless. Those green eyes knew almost every fact under the sun but they were still unsure about Stiles Stilinski.

"Get your own cave," a sleepily groggy voice startled them, "No one wants to see you two giving each other goo-goo eyes."

They jumped apart and both shot the younger boy a glare.

"Shut up, Isaac," was the best comeback Stiles could come up with at the time.

The day passed lazily. The three teenagers laid around the cave and tried to forget the emptiness left by a certain blonde. It was easier to focus on how miserable they were as the temperature continued to rise. They drank more water than ever, always conscious of the fact that it meant they would have to leave the safety of the cave eventually. That moment soon arrived with substantial amounts of dread. The trio moved swiftly through the trees, wanting more than anything to get the outing over with.

They were fine that time though. The alliance crashed back into the cave with heaving breaths, their anxiety forcing their legs to go faster and their hearts to speed up. Apparently, not much happened for the other tributes as well. Not one cannon was heard and there were no faces in the sky that night. The trio didn't know what to make of it, but they decided not to think too much about it. They fell asleep again in a huddle, this time discarding the sleeping bags entirely. The heat was almost unbearable at this point and it didn't help that their meager food supply was dwindling. Everything was miserable, and Stiles missed Erica. The day had been strange, unsettling.

It had been the calm before the storm.

The following day seemed identical to the one before it at first. The teenagers talked a little but were nearly out of conversation, and their exhaustion was palpable. Despite having done very little, the heat combined with their hunger drained any energy they had.

"We need to go out for food," Lydia stated.

They were all lying flat on the ground, her long hair tickling the faces of both the boys because of their closeness.

"And water," Isaac added, holding up a canteen and sloshing around what liquid was still inside it.

Stiles sighed heavily and was about to speak when something caught his attention. He sat up abruptly and held his hand out to quiet the other two. Tuning into the noises outside the cave, he could hear voices. From the looks on their faces, Isaac and Lydia had heard them too. All at once, they quickly hurried as silently as possible to the wall which the entrance was on and sat flat against it. If anybody happened to glance inside, hopefully nothing of interest could be seen. Stiles gripped Lydia's hand tightly, surely nearly hurting her, but her grip was just as strong. Isaac was on her other side and was leaning in closely to her. She was their glue at this point.

"This is pointless, Ethan," Kali's sharp voice snapped, "We've been looking for them for over a day."

"What do you suggest we do?" he answered angrily, "They're the only threats we really have left."

"How much of a threat are they at this point?" another Career challenged, "We already killed the blonde bitch."

Stiles tightened his jaw and almost got up, but Lydia gripped his hand tighter and softly stroked his skin with her thumb.

"Yeah, and they killed two of us," Ethan hissed back, "We can't afford to let our guard down. We still don't know what that Stiles kid is hiding."

"If he's hiding anything," Kali spat, "If he had some special ability, he would've shown it by now. Face it, he lied to get sponsors."

"But what about the 10?" the fourth Career questioned as their voices began to fade away.

"Exactly," Ethan replied, "Even if he lied, he and his alliance clearly pose a threat. We're going to find where they're hiding and we're going to kill all three of them."

That was the last clear thing they could hear before the Careers were out of earshot. Each member of the alliance was shaking violently. Stiles had his eyes squeezed shut and his free hand over his mouth, fingernails digging into the sides of his jaw. Lydia wrapped her arms around him and buried her head into the nape of his neck.

"What're we going to do?" Isaac asked, his voice soft and terrified.

"Stay inside," Stiles responded instantly, "We can't go out there. Not now."

Lydia pulled away, squeezing Isaac's hand reassuringly before standing up.

"We're starving and have little water left," she stated matter-of-factly, "I agree we can't leave the cave today with the Careers so close, but we have to hunt tomorrow. We need food."

The boys nodded solemnly as she sighed. Their situation was terrifying, yes, but also frustrating. They had put off getting more supplies for too long and now they were forced to wait even longer. What if they ran into danger? They'd be too weak to fight properly. With these thoughts on their mind, nobody in the trio felt like talking. Eventually, Stiles and Lydia found themselves lying back on the floor. It felt cooler someway, even as their sweaty palms were pressed together by their sides.

Stiles had always believed in small comforts.

Meanwhile, Isaac was sitting against the wall and fiddling with his wooden arrows. He seemed to just be content doing something. Hours passed slowly. Their stomachs ached. The only time Stiles remembers feeling this hungry was when he was just a kid and his mom got sick. His family made just enough as it was, but then they spent as much as possible on medicine. Food wasn't the priority, not when Claudia was dying. None of it even mattered in the end, he supposed. The problem wasn't even the lack of money. It was the lack of medicine. The usual shipment hadn't arrived that month, something about a similar sickness spreading through District 1 and 2. She never stood a chance.

Stiles jumped out of his thoughts at the sound of a cannon. He and Lydia both sat up, hands slipping out of each other's grasp absentmindedly. The trio exchanged worried glances.

"One of the Careers?" he guessed.

"Or the girl from 3," Isaac added.

"It's no use speculating," Lydia said with a small sigh, "We'll find out tonight."

That seemed to be it. Until about twenty minutes later when the screaming started. The sound was unmistakably from far away but still crystal clear. Tortured and in pain, they weren't from fear, especially when they wouldn't stop.

"What the hell is happening?" Stiles questioned with a slightly shaking voice.

"It sounds like Meredith Walker," Lydia whispered, biting a nail.

"Who?" he asked, more in shock than scared at the moment.

"The girl from 3," Isaac supplied, "Her mentor is friends with Jackson so we saw her a little. She seemed a bit… off."

"For good reason," the redhead said icily.

The younger boy sighed and ran a trembling hand through his hair. The screaming continued, disturbing and altogether unsettling, for what felt like nearly an hour. They couldn't be sure, but when it finally stopped it wasn't a slow and steady decline. It was abrupt, clearly cut-off, and followed by a cannon. The trio exchanged startled, confused glances yet again.

"What just happened?" Isaac asked.

Lydia simply shook her head.

"I don't even think I want to know," she muttered, "Something horrifying. Something just like the usual Hunger Games."

"Do you think…" Isaac began before pausing, licking his lips, and continuing, "Do you think we could've followed the sound?"

Stiles and Lydia immediately looked at him, eyes wide in shock.

"Technically, yes," the redhead breathed, "I guess we could've."

"That's what happened," Stiles stated, "The Careers followed the sound until they found her, and then they killed her."

"It's just us and them now," Isaac muttered quietly.

Stiles didn't know what to say. It was definitely easier to try to push all thoughts of Meredith's fate away. Still, the thoughts pressed upon them anyway. The fear never went away, not even when they formed a huddle for sleeping that night. As Isaac kept watch, Lydia and Stiles gripped each other's hands tightly. Her breath was soft against his neck as they drifted to sleep.

Small comforts.

At first light, Lydia woke the boys up to leave the cave. They packed up everything into their two bags as she quickly checked her wound. Her leg had been healing well and there was no sign of infection. From what he knew about medical care, Stiles assumed she would fully recover in another couple days. For now, she could at least walk with relative ease.

After a quick stop at the stream to fill up the two canteens, they explored the area of the forest near the cave. Isaac was eager to practice his archery as Stiles and Lydia searched for any edible plants. They wandered slightly away from each other, but never so that someone was out of sight. It was nice to be out and about, almost nice enough to forget the reason they were there. An hour had nearly passed, or so it felt like, when they came back together. Isaac had shot down two birds and a relatively plump rodent while the other two teenagers had collected an array of edible leaves and berries. It seemed like a good haul, so the trio decided to head back to the cave and put their findings into their packs.

They were in a good mood considering, well, everything. Isaac was walking backwards so he could easily speak to the other two, talking animatedly about the different ways he cooked birds at home with herbs he found around the local District 6 forest. Stiles and Lydia couldn't help but smile and wish along with him that they could have even those luxuries. Their hands brushed against each other's as they walked, each tiny touch shooting sparks in his chest.

When suddenly, Isaac stopped dead in his tracks and squinted slightly. They stopped beside him in confusion and glanced back where he was looking.

"Are you seeing that?" he asked.

Their silence was enough of an answer. The trio was currently staring at a growing smudge in the sky, the edges of it moving swiftly. Mere seconds later, it was close enough to see that it was made up of a few large birds, each with a long beak and wide wingspan and brilliantly blue feathers.

"Lydia, what kind of bird is that?" Stiles asked anxiously.

She shook her head.

"Nothing I've read about," she replied.

"So they're Capitol-engineered?" he questioned.

"Yeah," Lydia clarified.

"Then why the hell are we still here?!" Isaac yelled as he spun on his heel and started running towards the cave.

Stiles and Lydia quickly followed him, wind rushing in their ears as they raced through the trees. The cave felt so achingly close yet just out of reach. Lydia was falling behind as her injured leg became more and more pronounced. Stiles grabbed her hand and tried to pull her along, but it was clear that the birds were closing in on them. After he glanced back and saw their struggle, Isaac grasped Lydia's other arm so that the whole trio was moving as one to safety.

But they weren't safe. Stiles crashed to the ground as the bird the size of a large dog pummeled into his back. The redhead's hand slipped from his grasp as he quickly stood up again and drew his sword from its sheath. A battle had begun, and there was a bird for each of them. He tried to slash it but the mutation was too fast and always seemed to move away just in time. It swiped at him with razor-sharp talons, eliciting cries of pain with each new cut on his skin. Clearly, Lydia and Isaac were fairing no better. The redhead's bird pulled her to the ground and nearly bit her before she managed to plunge her knife through its throat. Pushing it to the side, she jumped to help Isaac who was struggling the most. He should've been a better fighter than Stiles, but his weapon of choice wasn't nearly as useful at close range.

The battle continued as he was surprised to land a few deadly blows. His bird now displayed some bleeding wounds, but it still came after him with deadly force. The trio slowly tried to fight their way to the cave entrance, dealing a blow and then running and then repeating the process. Soon they were able to dash inside, collapsing to the ground in exhaustion as the birds scrabbled to fit in the narrow doorway. It was clear they couldn't, but another ten minutes went by before they flew away, during which the three teenagers huddled together taking huge gasping breaths and crying.

Once it felt safe, they pulled away from each other and hesitantly dabbed at their wounds. They were covered in bleeding cuts, small but painful, and Stiles found that he just couldn't stop wincing with every movement. And yet, the only one making a sound was Isaac. He sat against the wall, eyes squeezed shut and a hand pressed against his right upper arm, as he whimpered softly. Lydia clearly noticed this as well. Her eyebrows were furrowed in concern as she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Isaac," she whispered, "What happened? Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah," he let out, not moving a muscle, "I got bitten, that's all. I-I'm fine, it just… it really burns."

"Let me see," she asked softly.

He hesitated but eventually did as she wanted because this was Lydia and she was the sun that shined in his night. Stiles knew how close they were. He had realized their sibling-like bond long ago. She gasped at the sight of his wound. At first glance, it seemed like any other cut, but when he looked closer he could see that it was tinged an unnatural violet color. Lydia looked up at him with panicked eyes.

"I've never seen this before either," she said almost inaudibly, "I don't… I don't know what's wrong."

And she must hate that. Lydia Martin was supposed to know everything, supposed to be knowledgeable enough to help in situations like this. But she was lost.

"Not fine, I take it back," Isaac stated with a pained gasp as tears leaked from his eyes, "It's getting worse, oh god, it's getting worse."

The redhead instinctively pulled him to her so that his head rested at the nape of her neck. She carded her fingers through his sweat-dampened curls as he whimpered and sobbed into her shoulder, his hand back to pressing desperately against the wound. They knew it was poison. It had to be poison. Stiles had no idea what to do, but he knelt down beside them and tried to be some sort of comforting presence at least.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she hissed at him almost instantly, "Do something."

He stared at her, eyes wide as saucers, even as Isaac's cries grew louder. Stiles stood back up and paced the floor, his heart beating erratically because a fourteen-year-old boy was dying and he was doing nothing.

"Derek, please, what do I do?" he begged quietly, "There must be something, please."

And then things changed, and horrible realization hit. Isaac's cries turned into agonizing screams, filling the cave with their anguish. Lydia's soft sob broke through as she tried to contain his thrashing movements to no avail.

"He's incoherent, he doesn't understand what's going on," she yelled to Stiles through the noise.

"Lydia, this was what hap-,"

"I know, Stiles," she interrupted, chin wrinkled and voice wobbling, "but I don't know what to do."

"This was the Gamemakers' plan all along," he spat angrily, "You kill your teammate yourself or you wait for him to die as he leads your enemies to you. How much time do you think it'll take the Careers to come here and slaughter us?"

Lydia closed her eyes and shook her head.

"We don't have much time," she answered before burrowing her head against Isaac as she continued trying to comfort him.

Stiles did the only thing he could think of.

"You told me to trust you, Derek," he said to the space around him, "I trust you, I trust you, please, we need help."

Not a minute later, he could hear a faint beeping sounds form outside. Hope flaring in his chest, Stiles rushed out and found a small silver canister on the ground with a parachute beside it. He took the whole thing inside the cave and frantically opened the container, Lydia looking on. Stiles even let himself smile a bit when he found a vial and syringe inside. It was just what they needed, surely.

And then he looked at the label.

Morphling.

His heart dropped into his stomach as he took in the information. It was a sedative, that's all. With numb fingers he picked up the tiny note underneath the items and read it aloud to Lydia with a shaking voice.

"There's no cure. I'm so sorry. Save the alliance."

A steady stream of tears was falling from her eyes but she made no sound. Instead she held out a shaking hand. He picked up the two items and simply dropped the canister and slip of paper on the ground. Stiles handed the syringe and vial to her which she held carefully.

"Hold him down," she said quietly.

Gently, Stiles brushed the curls from Isaac's face in some sort of comforting gesture before he gripped his torso to keep his arms from flailing about. He found himself softly giving words of reassurance as the boy continued to scream. Lydia expertly filled the syringe with morphling and tapped it to get rid of any air bubbles. She took in a trembling breath and caught his nervous gaze.

That was when Isaac saw the syringe and it turned out that he wasn't as incoherent as they thought. He instantly started fighting Stiles's embrace as his eyes filled with panic.

"No!" he screamed, "Not that, please, I don't want it!"

"I know, I'm sorry," Lydia cried, holding down his right forearm with her left hand, "I'm sorry, but you… you'll be okay."

But he kept screaming, the sound so close to Stiles's ear and so acute that he knew he'd never get them out of his head.

"You promised," Isaac added, "Lydia, you promised!"

She let out more apologies but still plunged the needle into his arm, throwing it on the ground haphazardly once the syringe was empty. Mere seconds later, Isaac completely quieted down went limp in Stiles's arms. Lydia scrambled to hold him so that his upper body was on her lap, his head resting in the crook of her elbow as she ran her left hand through his curls lovingly. Stiles sat to their side with Isaac's hand in his, wanting to do something.

"I'm sorry," she whispered one last time.

Isaac's silvery blue eyes blinked slowly.

"I don't want to die like him," he said, almost inaudibly.

"You won't," she replied softly, "Just… just close your eyes for me, okay?"

"I don't want to," he said, voice wobbling, "I don't think I can open them again."

"Do you still trust me?"

"I guess so."

Lydia let out one heartbroken laugh.

"Okay, so close your eyes."

And, of course, he did so.

"Do you remember that time we spent a whole day walking out of the city and the outlying city, all the way to the desert to get away from the light?"

"Yeah," he said, long and drawn out, "to see the stars?"

"That's right," she smiled, "Do you remember how beautiful it was? Away from all the industrial factories and exhaust, the harsh manmade lights?"

"I never wanted to leave it," Isaac mumbled wistfully.

"The sky was hardly dark," she described, "It was sweeping with fields of bright dots, some parts even brighter than others. And we just laid there all night and watched them. Can you picture it?"

His lips twitched into a small smile.

"I could never forget it," he stated.

The trio sat there for a while, Lydia and Stiles both watching Isaac's chest rise and fall with longer and longer intervals. He held the younger boy's hand with both of his, as if just keeping it in his grasp would keep Isaac here too.

"I'll see my mom again," he whispered.

"Yeah," Lydia replied, "of course, you will."

"And Camden," he continued, opening his eyes to look at her, "I think I understand now. Maybe I can forgive him."

"Only if you want to," she told him quietly.

"I want to, I really want to," he said, dissolving into sobs this time not brought on by any physical pain, "I miss him. I want my brother back."

Isaac squeezed Stiles's hands as he melted into Lydia's embrace.


Isaac Lahey died a half hour later, the morphling lasting long enough to suppress the agonizing death the Capital had planned for him, but not stop it entirely. It took another ten minutes for Stiles to convince Lydia it was time to let go of his body. He picked up the fourteen-year-old bridal style, not able to ignore how light he was. They walked out of the cave and laid him at the edge of the forest. Lydia plucked a bright yellow flower from a nearby patch and wrapped it around one of the wooden arrows before placing it in his grasp. She ruffled his hair gently for one last time and walked back to lean against the volcano. Stiles swallowed and kneeled down beside him.

"You showed them," he whispered, "You lived well, okay?"

Stiles and Lydia watched as a hovercraft entered the arena and picked Isaac up, his curls ruffling in the wind, before going back to the cave. He felt numb. Erica's death had been quick and unexpected, the grief was instantaneous. But this death was so drawn out and painful already that Stiles couldn't sit down and cry more. But maybe that was because he didn't really know him that well. Lydia sat in the corner with her knees pulled up to her chest, hand covering her mouth in heartache.

Meanwhile, Stiles forced himself to do something. He pulled out one of the birds that Isaac- Isaac- had killed and started skinning it to cook. The action passed the time well. After a while, when he had moved on to cooking it over the heat of the lava stream, Lydia moved to sit cross-legged next to him. They didn't say anything, not for several more minutes anyway, but the close presence of each other already felt a bit better.

"In case you didn't notice," she finally began, "we're not unfamiliar with morphling."

In fact, he had noticed.

"Well, I know your mentor is an addict, so… I figured it had to do with that."

"That's a part of it," she agreed, "District 6 is kind of rampant with the drug. And Isaac… he hasn't had the greatest life. After his mom died, his dad started beating him and his older brother a lot. Camden always sort of protected Isaac but sometimes things couldn't be helped. They helped each out, though, the two of them. When Camden got a bit older, he started using morphling. Suddenly some of their money just began disappearing to supply him, and then Mr. Lahey would beat both of them for it, and Camden would use to feel better, and the whole cycle kept repeating. Unfortunately, it's not a unique situation. Isaac's always been sort of quiet, and after my dad died we just clicked together. The odds of us both being reaped are astronomical, and yet it happened. Anyway… a couple years ago, Camden accidentally overdosed and died. Isaac never forgave him for leaving him alone with their father. He made me promise to never let him use that stuff."

"It's not your fault," Stiles told her gently, "Being sedated was his best option."

Her hands wrung together.

"I know," she whispered.

"He didn't blame you, not in the end."

She nodded absentmindedly before turning towards him abruptly.

"It is the end, isn't it?" Lydia stated, "How many of us are left? Five? The Final 8 has definitely come and gone."

He had completely forgotten about that. Derek must have gone back to District 10 to talk to his family. All of the Capitol has probably seen an interview of his father, probably Scott too. Maybe even Melissa or Allison. He hated it. He didn't want them anywhere near his family, and it hurt worse because he knew he couldn't do anything about it.

"The message is from Derek, right?" Lydia asked.

Stiles picked the slip of paper up from the floor to check. He had assumed it was from his mentor, but now he wasn't sure. The redhead took the cooked bird off its stick over the lava and set it down to cool as he examined the paper's front and back.

"It doesn't say," he said in confusion, "There's nothing on it to mark either district or anything."

"Makes sense," she mumbled before speaking up, "Morphling is expensive. Derek and Jackson might've pooled their money to get it."

He nodded. So much of their money is gone now, then. They were probably saving it for an emergency, which is definitely what happened, but Stiles couldn't help but wonder if some people in the Capitol thought it was a waste. After all, they could've just killed him and gotten it over with. Except he knew Lydia could never hurt Isaac, and he didn't think he could either. It simply wasn't possible.

Stiles pulled a wing off the bird and began picking out the meat, eating fresh food for the first time in at least a day. It tasted bland in his mouth despite his hunger, but he almost expected that. They ate in silence and finished rather quickly, but it was satisfying at least for now. Afterwards, they huddled together in the usual corner, arms interlocked and her head on his shoulder.

"We have to split up pretty soon," Lydia stated quietly.

He knew. It was the thing he dreaded most of all, but he knew.

"Not yet, though," he whispered back, "I think I'll hold on to the time we have left."

She lifted her head and caught his gaze, that conflicted but overcome look in her eyes again. In one swift move, the redhead placed her hands on the sides of his face and drew him into a kiss. For all that it shocked him, the tender kiss lasted several seconds. When they pulled away, lips still mere inches apart and her hands not leaving their position, he let out a trembling breath.

"I don't get it," Stiles asked, "Is this a distraction or do you really like me?"

Her thumb stroked his cheek delicately.

"Is it wrong to say both?" she replied.

No. And maybe he needed this too.

Without answering aloud, he kissed her again, running his hand through her now knotted waves. Cuts still adorned her skin and her eyes were red from crying, but she was warm and loving and beautiful. She was the genius Lydia Martin who had just lost the only true friend she had ever known, and Stiles Stilinski found that he loved her.

I am a horrible updater but I hope you people are satisfied with this chapter. It's quite depressing, I'm sorry, but at least we got some stydia action. Thanks to all my lovely reviewers who simply blow my mind all the time! SelenaQuintanillaLOVER, I'm so sorry my update has come so many months later, but I'm glad you love the story! And Dark penguin, your review really fuels me to continue because OH MY GOD more compelling than the original Hunger Games? You flatter me, darling. This chapter's title comes from Gabrielle Aplin's The Power of Love. Anyway, we're finishing the arena part next chapter, so there's much excitement! Thank you all for reading!