Author's Note:

I cannot believe I'm already on chapter nine of this story; I haven't actively updated a chapter story like this in years, and I've never found it so easy to write. Thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter: nudgeriderox, Secretsx17, Rikachan101, Dominae de Machinae, cassie glitter, Trapped in Narnia, shadow bender 7271, Katts, Fishpuppy, Clove25, jb's big fan. I can't believe I'm at 100 reviews! fjsdkfljsdf you guys are just too much.

I've got all the alliances sorted out; I couldn't get everyone who they wanted, but I think you'll be satisfied. So this is the final chapter until the Games finally begin! As a sort of warning: I don't really purposefully do it (kind of sort of), but I do tend to focus on and favor tributes of people who continue to review/PM me and give me support.

But I digress. On we go!

Semper Fi
"Always Faithful"
a Hunger Games (© Suzanne Collins) fanfiction

Chapter Nine
Could've, Should've, Would've

Opening Song: "The Ruler and the Killer" - Kid Cudi

Lana's hands are still shaking when the escort calls her in for her session with Jerico and his fellow Gamemakers. She instantly looks to Altair, who's sitting on the other side of her, and he gives her a reassuring smile upon sensing her anxiousness. "Knock 'em out, Lana," he says encouragingly, giving her shoulder a light squeeze. Taking in a deep, calming breath, she stands up and steals a glance at Zook, who is also waiting his turn. After receiving an affirmative thumbs' up, she pulls back her shoulders, holds her chin up high, and strides through the large steel doors. They close with a hollow snap behind her.

Eight of them have already presented their skills to the Gamemakers, some coming out looking more pleased than others: there were those like Dahlia, who went in looking glum and exited with a loud whoop, and then there were those like Terra, who went in so sure of themselves and came out looking quite defeated. Most, Altair was bothered to see, displayed expressions akin to Terra's.

"Rea looked like she was gonna throw up," River whispers beside him, managing to sound both amused and nervous. "What do you think they'll make us do?"

"I don't think they're really gonna make us do anything in particular," he answers. "I mean, this session is for us to show how good we are. We just need to show them why we're best and why we deserve a high score, so it's completely up to us." She looks slightly more relieved, but he notices that there's still a small dip in her brow.

"How long do we have?"

"Up to fifteen minutes, I think. I doubt they think we're worth anymore than that." River detects a bitterness that so rarely presents itself in Altair's voice. When she looks down at his hands, she sees that they're grasping the black material of his training pants; they're white and shaking, much like Lana's had been. "Just fifteen minutes," he mumbles, speaking to himself rather than to her now.

They sit in silence for the next ten minutes, until the doors open and Lana walks out. She looks neither pleased nor displeased, and the grim smile she's wearing tells little about how she faired. "Good luck," she mouths to Altair, after his name is called. Any hesitation he may have is swiped from his face, and he approaches the meeting with the Gamemakers with strong shoulders and a defiant expression.

Twenty-two tributes wait their turn.

Nobody speaks during dinner later that night. They are all tired, both physically and mentally, so that even eating extravagant food has become a chore. Realization has finally hit them: these Games are real, and nobody will come to save them. In a room full of thirty-two students, in a building full of a hundred people, in a society full of thousands, they are completely and utterly alone.

"Good morning, citizens of the Capitol and ardent viewers of Unified Panem! We've all been eagerly awaiting this day, this day that may very well determine the lives of our beloved thirty-two tributes from Class 7-A. They have undergone three days of special training, have met with our Gamemakers, and now they will be issued their final scores. Tomorrow they will be thrown into the arena, but today we shall see just what their odds are!"

Mattheo glances at Zook, trying to gauge his reaction, but Zook's eyes and attention are focused solely on Merope's vivid image on the television screen.

"Now, for those who may be unfamiliar with the process - just why are these scores and evaluations so important, Runyon?"

The man sitting beside her has blue-tinted skin and wild orange hair, but most noticeable are his perfectly straight, gleaming white teeth. "That's the question, isn't it, Merope?" The two share a laugh. "Well, these scores are issued by the Gamemakers after a private training sessions. The tributes show off their best skills, and they are a given score between one and twelve, one being the worst and twelve being the very best. In history, only two tributes have ever received a twelve."

"That's right, isn't it? The Mockingjay and her lover, in the 75th Hunger Games," Merope giggles.

"Yes indeed. We're not allowed to actually know what happens - that's between the tributes and the Gamemakers. We do, however, get a small idea from the score they receive."

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get this show on the road!"

Merope and Runyon's faces are replaced with an image of Jorden, from the shoulders up. "From District 1, Jorden Biber." A large 6 appears over his picture, hovers there for approximately fifteen seconds, then is swiped from the screen altogether. The next one who appears is Terra, smiling charmingly with her long dark lashes and smoldering brown eyes. "Terra Rush - 8." Despite his nervousness, Mattheo looks slightly relieved.

"From District 2, Dahlia Dunbryll - 9." Zook exhales slowly. "Riley Maryn - 8. Cole Nature - 10." He mutters a quiet, yet astounded, "Damn," as he stares into the cold eyes of Cole's picture. "Pretty typical Career District stuff, isn't it?" Merope asks as Cole fades to black. "Even without the experience their ancestors had, they're still the cream of the crop!

From District 3, Rea - 6. Oliver Winters - 4. Drizzle Ainsworth - 5." Neither she nor Runyon look particularly impressed by the tributes from District 3, but Zook wonders what they were expecting; two of the three are still underclassmen. "From District 4, Altair Osriel - 7. Lana Wood - 8. River Matthias - 6. Remember folks, that District 4 usually joins the Career pack with Districts 1 and 2. And quite the contenders they are, eh?"

There's a bit of shuffling with papers before Merope continues. "From District 5, Joel Conner - 5. Oralee Roshan - 5. From District 6, Lewis Carnet - 7. Lorea Carnet - 4. From District 7, Mykal Duncan - 6. Keldon Peak - 7. Luke Darkwood - 10." Zook looks mildly surprised, but then he remembers how fit and quick and agile Luke is. He remembers what a nice guy he is, how he gets along with everyone, how he has always been someone to be admired. And now, those very skills… "Skyloh Hemmington - 8. Yeesh, I think we might have to look out for these tributes from District 7; they've got some of the highest scores."

"You know how hard their conditions are out there, though," reminds Runyon. "They've gotta be strong and able to climb and lift things. Looks like all that hard work is finally gonna pay off."

"Too true, too true." She clears her throat exaggeratedly. "From District 8, Nyle Grimmsley - 9. Kate Abner - 3." Mattheo and Zook's eyes catch each other, both pairs displaying pity; that's been the lowest score thus far. "From District 9, Korra Blackthorne - 9. From District 10-" Mattheo breathes in loudly, shakily. "- Mattheo Shermore - 5." He releases his breath, looking neither relieved nor too upset. "Zook Merrow - 6."

"Not bad, for either of us," Zook says, trying to smile at his current roommate. He was told that the average score for those who aren't possible Careers is between 5-8. He's in the middle, then, and he doesn't mind too much. Granted, a higher score would be nicer, and both Dahlia and Lana had done pretty well…

"From District 11, Ruby Samim - 7. Oh my, that's a rather impressive score for someone her age. Hawk Riley - oh! Wow." There's a pause, as though she can't believe what she's reading. "Hawk Riley," she repeats, "11."

"Well, he has always been pretty good at showing off, and that's when it mattered," Mattheo says, scratching his head.

"From District 12, Thistle Black - 5. Rain Clomb - 7. From District 13, Allegra Grimstone - 9. Lila Waters - 8. Catcher Hollowind - 8. Phoenix Kade - 6."

"That's it, isn't it?" Runyon asks. "These are the tributes for the 76th Hunger Games!"

"Oh sugar tarts, I am getting so excited! Well, there you have it folks, all thirty-two of them! You've seen them, talked with them, heard from them, and now you know just how skilled they are. I'm sure you've all got your favorites, so make sure you tune in every day to see how they're doing. Tomorrow, at this time, they will be headed into the arena, and you - yes you - may be what stands between them and death. Sponsors have, on more than one account, saved the lives of tributes. Choose wisely, viewers. Until tomorrow, this is Merope Duncaine-"

"- and Runyon Willendorf-"

"- signing out."

The final night before the Hunger Games, the thirty-two students of 7-A dine together as a class for the final time. The sense of unity that had accompanied them on the bus ride to District 1, however, is no longer present. They sit in fractions, whispering amongst one another, barely glancing at others, fearful of those they once might have respected; they sit divided.

"Poor dear," Terra sighs, a slight jeer in her sweet voice. "Scoring the lowest out of all of us… Not that none of us saw it coming, really." She sneers at the sight of Kate, who's eating her plate of turkey alone in the corner. Her perpetually tangled hair is more unkempt that unusual and Terra swears she can see tears in her eyes. "Such a shame."

"You could at least to pretend you mean it," Riley scolds softly. "I heard she choked and was even lucky to get a three. Kate's never really been good with audiences."

"Has she ever been good with anything?"

"Terra!" The named catches Riley's reprimanding look and there's a moment of tension, but the dark-haired beauty eventually shrugs and goes back to her meal. Riley sighs, exasperated, and turns to the others. "But it's good to know we've got such able people in our alliance. We all scored pretty well, except…" She bites back her last comment, not wanting to offend the one individual who is not present. "Well, still, we all did pretty well, so I suspect our chances are good."

Terra raises an eyebrow at Riley's attempt to be polite. "Does your sister even want to be a part of this?"

Lewis looks nervous under the scrutiny. "Well, if you want me to be completely honest, she just wants it to be the two of us." Terra opens her mouth to protest, but he interrupts her before she can throw him out: "But I've already convinced her that it'll be the best for both of us - all of us, I mean. If we travel in a group, we'll have the advantage, no matter what. She's just… She's just not good with people is all."

"Isn't that the understatement of the year," says Jorden with no malice. "I think we're mostly just worried about whether…" He hesitates, for the same reason that Riley did. "Well, about whether or not she may…"

"No, no, Lorea's not like that," Lewis protests immediately, sticking up for his twin. "No, I promise. She's good." Terra certainly doesn't look convinced and Riley manages to keep her concern subdued, but Jorden and Mattheo look pleased. "So…" He lowers his voice. "Do you think there'll be any other alliances?"

"I already know Zook will be sticking with Dahlia and Lana," Mattheo says, keeping his eyes on his mashed potatoes. His fork maneuvers around the dish, never actually bringing anything to his mouth; he hasn't eaten a thing since dinner started. "And I don't know if that really counts an alliance since they're already friends, but… Well, all three of them got pretty good scores, and they trust each other, so…"

"Zook just got a six," Terra says pointedly, unimpressed.

Mattheo's ears turn red and they can barely make out him saying, "I got a five…"

"Whatever, they're no threat," she continues, pretending to not have heard him. "Luke, Altair, and Hawk will definitely be sticking together, but I wonder if it'll just be the three of them…"

"Well, they get along with everyone, so people'll probably be going to them," Riley says, a bit hopefully. A sharp look from Terra dashes her expectations, though, and she sighs. "Yeah, well, having that big of an alliance would be difficult and a bit of a pain anyway…"

"I'm really just worried about Cole, to be honest," Jorden admits, barely gathering the courage to steal a glance in the District 2 tribute's direction. To his surprise, Cole is not alone; Lila is sitting beside him, and the two are casually talking. "He was never that big on talking to me back at school…"

"That's because he didn't have to talk at school. Now his survival is dependent on it," Terra replies airily. "Cole and Lila, huh…?"

While she watches the duo unabashedly, the others continue to discuss possible alliances within their class. "The kids will definitely stick together," Lewis says confidently. "I mean, especially under Oralee, and she's a force to be reckoned with. Really!" he adds when he sees the others' disbelieving looks. "Especially when it comes to the underclassmen, she gets super fiery. It'd be like attacking the cubs of a violent mother bear…"

They all look visibly uncomfortable with the mere idea of attacking someone as small as Ruby or Joel.

"S-so Hawk got the highest score," says Mattheo, quickly changing the subject.

"Dangerous," Riley murmurs.

"Which means," Terra cuts in harshly, determination in her eyes, "he is at the top of the list." Riley tries to smile and Lewis nods his head, but nobody says a thing. Cold-blooded and vicious have never been used to described bubbly and girly Terra, but there is such conviction in her words. While they are unsure and hesitant, she is fiery and ready and they start to believe, some with terror, that she is ready for the Hunger Games.

They spend their last night before the Games the way friends spend a typical night together. There's no talk of training or the Capitol, of weapons or killing, of feelings of nervousness or fear - just three friends enjoying what the night has to offer them. As they sit on the roof of the tribute compound, underneath the stars hidden almost completely by the city lights, it's almost as though they're back home.

"That was the best turkey I've ever had," Luke says with a sigh of content as he falls back onto the cool surface.

"Have you even ever had turkey before tonight?" Hawk asks with a snort. Luke shrugs, figuring that the factor isn't important enough to take into consideration. "The food has been great, though. I think I've eaten more in the past week and a half than I have in my entire life. They don't really care if I steal food to take back to the room, either, which is definitely a nice change from school. Though I guess that kind of takes the fun and risk out of it…"

"You get your jollies from stealing old bread from the cafeteria?"

"Shut the hell up."

Altair snickers along with Luke, who takes Hawk's punch to his shoulder with good stride. They settle into a comfortable silence, not wanting to take for granted the momentary peace they have. The questions and thoughts loom at the back of their minds, barely suppressed by the desire to live a normal night for what may be the last time. Being afraid, being sad, being anxious: none of it matters right now. In this one moment, everything is okay.

"Hey, Altair." The auburn-haired male looks over at Hawk, who's still laying on his black and staring up at the sky. "Did you ever man up and ask out that girl you like?" His impish grin gives away his answer immediately, leading Hawk to groan and Luke to chuckle. "Are you kidding me? You've like her for, what, fifteen years?"

"We didn't grow up in the same district and I just turned eighteen, so that isn't even possible," Altair reasons good-naturedly, to which Hawk just looks exasperatedly at him. "No, but you're right… I've liked her since my first year at the academy. We were both on Student Council, and I made a promise to myself year after year that I would finally gather the courage and ask her to dinner or the movies. I'm sure she's got a boyfriend by now, though."

"You don't even know that?"

Altair's grin is only slightly sardonic. "I liked her, Hawk. I didn't stalk her." His friend mumbles something about "doing it wrong," but Altair brushes him off. "I don't think it ever would have happened, anyway. I always got so choked up around her, sounded like an idiot… She always looked at me funny every time I tried to talk to her after the meetings." He lays back so that he too is gazing upwards. "I was never really great with girls anyway."

"Yeah, 'cause you spent so much time focusing on one girl who thought you were mentally unstable."

"Girls loved you," Luke adds, overriding Hawk's usual (but appreciated) snark. "If you asked anyone in our class out, they would have said yes instantly. Except maybe Korra, 'cause she's kinda just sassy and I always got the impression that she thought she was better than everyone else. And Lorea, too, but she's just scary and you're too old for her anyway… And Allegra, and maybe Lila, and Kate probably would have just fainted…"

"You're not making a very good argument, but thanks for the attempt," Altair says with a light-hearted laugh. "No, I never would have asked out a girl in our class… It'd make things awkward if we ended up breaking up in the middle of the year and had to work together for the rest of it. Remember when Lana broke up with that guy three years ago and he asked to be transferred to another class?"

"That girl has crazy mood swings, so I'd wanna get the hell out of there, too," Hawk comments, nodding at the distant memories. "One second she's playing the mysterious card, the next she's bouncing off the freaking walls. If you're looking for a stable relationship, she's probably not the one to go to."

Altair links his fingers behind his head and draws up his knees, trying to get into a more comfortable position. He smiles, even if it can't be seen by the other two. "Nah, Lana's just… trying to figure out who she is, is all. Just your usual teenage stuff."

"You've just got a soft spot for her," he accuses.

"Hm. Maybe."

Luke sits upright so quickly that stars (the first he's seen tonight) dance before his eyes. "You and Lana?" he exclaims, all the while trying to swat the white spots away.

"We're district partners," Altair says, not really answering the question. "We've known each other for a while. She's a good kid." Luke takes that as "she's like my sister," so he falls back without concern, but Hawk is as skeptical as ever. Altair casually changes the subject. "All I've been thinking about for the past couple of days is how much I'm going to regret - what I did, what I didn't do, what I should do or should have done. I thought of everything I wish I'd said - or hadn't said, especially when it came to trying to talk to Moira - and how I wanted to change things, but… I'm pretty happy. I had it good. I don't have any regrets, not really."

Hawk has half the heart to call him out on his skill of dodging unwanted questions, but it's a warm night and he's feeling particularly giving for some reason. "Yeah, I'm alright. I mean, I wish I'd punched my dad in the face a couple times and maybe I should have tried harder in school, and I wish I could take back telling Terra she was the hottest thing on two legs that one night I got drunk, but… Yeah, you're right." His grin shows off both rows of his white teeth. "No regrets."

They glance at Luke who, for the first time, struggles with words. They know what he's thinking about: the family he's got back home, the other friends at school, the girlfriend he'd do anything for. But finally, he says, with incredible verve, "No regrets."

River found a packet of cards under her bed early in the morning, so she and the other kids have been preoccupying themselves with card games nearly all day. It keeps their minds off what will happen, gives them a moment of joy and fun that seems alien and unusual under the circumstances. The games are reminiscent of what they'd play back at school when all the upperclassmen went out on Friday and Saturday nights, and they convince themselves that this is just another one of those nights.

"How do you even know how to play poker?" Oliver asks Joel, who looks awfully happy after winning his tenth round. "You're twelve."

"Only two years younger than you," he replies easily, gathering the animal crackers Ruby stole from the kitchens. "My older brother and father taught me. I've always had a knack for card games, I suppose."

"It's almost not fair." Ruby pouts, throwing her losing hand onto the ground. "Ugggh, you should sit out the next game."

"Wha-!"

Oralee stands up very suddenly, her eyes focusing on a figure moving past the doorway. "Hold on, guys, I'll be right back." She runs out of the room, chasing after the shadow, leaving the kids to themselves.

"Weird," River mutters as she inconspicuously leans forward and steals a zebra from Joel's growing pile of prizes. "But yeah, I agree with Ruby. No poker for you next round, Joel." The dark-haired boy looks discontent, but he hardly seems displeased with his winnings. "What do you think the others are doing?"

"Well, they can't go clubbing, unless they've got one of those hidden in here," Drizzle says with a snort. "It's big enough." She shuffles the deck before passing out the cards to the others. Her hands, Joel notices while he's eating a hippo, are shaking vigorously.

"You got the highest score out of all of us," Joel says to Ruby when she picks up a lollipop. "A seven…"

"Y-yeah," she replies nervously, discomforted by the attention that shifts in her direction. "I didn't even do that much, though. I just climbed trees and made a bow and arrow and shot… Hawk got an eleven," she adds quickly, hoping that they'll all stop looking at her like that.

Oliver shakes his head. "They said a seven is a high score for anyone, let alone a twelve-year-old. Most of us scraped by with fours and fives."

"It's not that big a deal," she murmurs, lowering her gaze to the floor. She knows they mean no ill will, but for some reason she feels terrified, like she's being targeted. Was getting a seven really that big a deal…?

"Hey, sorry, I was just talking to Thistle- Hey. Are you guys alright?" Oralee rejoins them, now wearing a worried expression. "Ruby, honey, are you okay? You look pale."

She nods stiffly, unable to fully lock gazes with the motherly girl. Is this what they, they Capitol, are trying to do? To alienate her from her friends and make her feel like an outsider? She saw in their eyes, even if it was only for a moment - the desire, the jealousy. This isn't right, she thinks, that the kids she's gone to school with so many years are looking at her like that.

Her grip around the lollipop tightens, angry and hurt.

Skyloh is willing to admit that it's jealousy she feels when she sees so many of her classmates grouped together, savoring their final moments of friendship. She's never been unpopular, despite her outspokenness and tendency to voice things that should go unvoiced, but she doesn't have anyone here she'd confide in. For a moment, she longs for that intimacy just so she can have someone to talk to.

"Hey there."

She yelps, jumping away from the corner she's been taking refuse behind. "You," she states accusingly, momentarily narrowing her eyes at a sheepish Catcher. She drops her guard when he waves in a friendly manner, returns his grin with one of her own. "What are you doing here?"

"I came over to ask you the same thing." They both size each other up for a couple moments until Catcher interrupts the moment with a loud laugh. "I really just wanted to see how you were doing. You looked a little lonely, so…"

"I don't need pity," she says defensively.

"No, no, I know you don't," he replies calmly. "I just… I don't think anyone should spend tonight alone." Skyloh is hesitant, and by the way she looks at him, he knows she's trying to find some ulterior motive behind his words and actions. "Trust me." He extends a hand to her, which she slaps away after staring at. To his surprise, she's grinning again.

"Alright, you chivalrous gentleman," she says sarcastically, with a hint of affection and gratefulness. "I'll go ahead and believe that you're not secretly trying to sabotage me, for now."

He feigns a hurt expression. "Sabotage? I don't think I'm even capable of such a thing."

"Yeah, as if." She hops onto the window's ledge, allowing her legs to dangle freely. "It's weird," she murmurs, tone taking on a more serious note, "that all of this is really happening. I've been trying to convince myself that it's all just a dream, but here we are."

"You knew about the Games, though," he replies, leaning against the adjacent wall. "Not like the rest of us."

She rolls her shoulders in a shrug. "It doesn't really matter, if you really think about it. We're all in the same place, in the end, regardless of whether we knew about the Games or not. My knowledge didn't really give me an unfair advantage over anyone." Contrarily, she looks much more distressed, but Catcher decides against saying so. "I'm… well, I guess I'm more afraid since I've known about it longer. I used to have nightmares about them all the time when I was a kid. I know my parents didn't mean to scare me, just wanted me to know things, but… It's kinda sad that my dreams are actually becoming reality."

What happened in your dreams? he wants to ask her.

She sees it on his face before he can even try to hide it. "Every time I died," she answers his wordless question, smiling without really smiling. "In every single one… It was always a different way, but I don't think it really matters how you go, just that you do."

"They were just dreams, though."

"Nightmares," she corrects, "but yeah, I guess. All the same, the fact that it could actually happen, under these bizarre circumstances… It just seems like something out of a horror movie. It's scary and overwhelming, but somehow we've all managed to keep it together. Yeah, there's the occasional breakdown, as there should be, but… Well, survival can make people do the most amazing things." Skyloh leans her head back against the cool window and closes her eyes, as though trying to block out her surroundings. Catcher thinks she might have fallen asleep when she suddenly jumps off the ledge. "It's a weakness, I think, having friends going into the Games. You'll be scared to kill your friends, but you know you have to. You'll want to stick with them, but you'll always have the knowledge that one of you will have to die. It must be terrible."

Her fists are trembling. "But it's gotta be a great strength, too. To have someone by your side, pushing you forward, helping you, begging you to stay with them. When they die, you have more reason to try to win. It's tragic, but kind of beautiful, too, I guess…" Her eyes settle on the nearby trio of Dahlia, Lana, and Zook, but she seems to be looking through them rather than at them. "I was always kind of envious."

"People like you. I don't think there's anyone in class who'd say otherwise."

"There's a difference between being liked and actually having a group of friends."

Catcher watches her thoughtfully, with his hands in his pockets and his head cocked to the side. "Just being liked may be what you need to survive, though," he says, voice dropping in volumes. "People won't want to hurt you, and you won't have that attachment that hinders you from protecting yourself against others. Maybe you're in the better position, eh?"

Neither like thinking about the others in their class trying to hurt one another - seriously, anyway - so they quickly avert their eyes. "We'll see, I guess," she says conclusively. Sighing, she folds her arms across her chest and leans against the wall next to Catcher. "Thanks, by the way," she says after a moment of silence.

He blinks, confused. "For what?"

"It's just nice," she answers, not really looking at him, "knowing that someone still cares even after all this. Knowing that not everyone is sacrificing everything just for survival. It's nice to see someone who's still themselves."

Mykal wanders around the compound late at night, when everyone is asleep and almost all the lights are off. She can't sleep, not knowing what lays before her, and part of her resents those who can. "Everyone deals with grief and fear in their own way," she reminds herself as she walks past the large room housing those from District 1. "And I guess it doesn't really matter anyway. In a couple of days, they're all going to be…"

She thinks about it, tries envisioning herself killing one of her classmates-

She stops walking, swallows thickly, closes her eyes, starts shaking. She thinks about Altair who's always been so kind to everyone, thinks about Mattheo who could never squash a bug on his own, thinks about popular Jorden, thinks about Drizzle, Oliver, Ruby, River, Joel (they're just kids), thinks about-

"Mykal?" She gasps, as though surfacing through ice cold water, and realizes that she is no longer alone. Keldon watches her with careful, warm eyes. "Are you alright? I saw you get up, but I didn't wanna say anything since Luke and Skyloh are still sleeping." He's standing so close she can see every detail in the small wooden bear that hangs from his neck. "Hey," he murmurs, "we're gonna make it through this, okay?"

Mykal, who's always been so spirited and independent, looks absolutely subdued. Her dark eyes are tired and worn, not quite brimming with tears as one would expect, but still an image of exhaustion and despair. "I'll be fine," she says, watery smile unconvincing. "I mean, I have to be fine, right? Anything else, and I won't be able to go home to mom and dad and Caden and Caroline, and they wouldn't be happy with that." She's barely holding herself together, he can tell, but she won't let herself crumble now.

She turns to the window, which casts an eerie glow on her face. When he looks down at her fingers, he sees she isn't shaking. "It's okay to be afraid," he says, and it strikes a nerve. "I mean, we all are-"

"Even if I am, it's not gonna do me any good to admitting to it!" He doesn't step back, regardless of her harsh gaze. "Tomorrow we're getting our scores, Keldon, and tomorrow is our last day here. It's the last day. Do you know what that means?" There's a note of hysteria in her voice, a sense that suggests she's still searching for the answer herself. "That means in two days, all of us will be…" She pauses, waits for him to answer, but he doesn't. She shakes her head, unable to find the words, and shifts her stare to the bright lights below them.

"Maybe we can still find a way out. We've just been waiting all this time, but maybe it's up to us-"

"We're just kids."

"Hey." He grabs her by the shoulders, maker her look him in the eyes. "We've made it this far on our own, without any help. It'll be hard, and… and I don't know how everyone else'll be, but the two of us - we'll be alright, right? We've gotten through worse." He thinks she might be blushing, but decides it's just the Christmas-colored lights from outside. "Just keep your head held high, and we'll be alright."

Her tense shoulders relax as she soaks in the comfort from his grip. "Yeah, we'll be okay." Even if she can't fully believe her own words, she believes in this moment.

Sleep isn't an option, strangely enough, despite the day that awaits them tomorrow. Korra hasn't even touched her bed, and she knows that Rea's attempt is fruitless when she dismisses herself to sleep after their walk around the compound. "How can anyone even sleep?" she thinks as she meanders aimlessly through the hallways. "Knowing what we have to do tomorrow." If she does manage to sleep, her dreams will be fraught with terrors and chills, as they have been all week.

"So it's agreed then," she hears from the District 13 room. Not wanting to be seen passing the open door, Korra presses herself against the steel wall beside it, waiting. "The three of of us." It's Lila's voice, and she sounds pleased.

"I don't trust him," cuts in Allegra's voice.

"You don't trust anyone," Lila replies dismissively. "But you're not gonna be any good on your own, not with thirty-two of us out there. It's survival of the fittest, Allegra, and you've gotta adapt." The younger girl snorts, unimpressed, but she doesn't continue to argue. "And it's not like we need a large group or anything. That would probably make us more conspicuous."

"Like the idiots at dinner today. You could tell what they were doing and they didn't even have to say anything. Terra's probably leading it…" She definitely sounds excited now. "We'll be able to track them easily."

Lila snickers. "Yeah, they've got, what, six people running around in a group? Good luck with that." The bed creaks, probably because someone's shifted their weight. "We've got enough to watch each other's back, but can still move around stealthily. It'll be easy."

There are quiet thuds from heavy shoes hitting the ground. "Fine." Korra recognizes Cole's voice. "If we're done here, I'm leaving."

Korra's heart leaps to her throat when the heavy steps move towards her; without really thinking, she darts in the direction from which she came. She doesn't realize she's sprinting, so afraid of being caught eavesdropping, until her legs start to ache. She slows down when she turns the corner, still panting, when she staggers right into oncoming traffic.

"Woah, there," Phoenix cries, barely managing to keep himself upright. "Slow down, will you?"

"Are you alright, Korra?" Oralee asks, concerned, looking up into her frantic face. "You're really shaky."

"Not that that's abnormal," chimes Dahlia, even if she's scrutinizing the offender. "Drizzle's been shaking all night and Kate's been racked with them since the private training sessions. … Hm?" The three of them, including Nyle who hasn't said anything, look up suddenly. Korra feels her entire body freeze. "Oh… Hey, Cole." Dahlia sounds and looks uneasy. "I was just headed back to the room. "

Her district partner doesn't acknowledge her words, just briskly walks passed them. In the second he's beside her, though, Korra swears he was glaring at her.

"Well, that's Cole for you," Phoenix sighs, unaware of the moment of tension. "He's definitely someone I hope to avoid in the arena…"

"I heard you fought him during training, thought," says Oralee. "Hawk was telling us how well you did; he couldn't even touch you!" Phoenix shrugs like it's no big deal, but he can't completely hide his cheeriness upon hearing this.

"I gotta go," Korra mutters, walking right through Nyle and Dahlia.

"Oh! Uh, bye!"

"That was weird," Dahlia comments, after Korra disappears behind another corner.

Nyle shrugs as they continue towards the rooms. "Everyone has their secrets now." Phoenix, Oralee, and Dahlia all exchange a look, which goes either unnoticed or ignored by Nyle, and try not to look too bothered. Secrets are typical amongst teenagers, but when games are involved, they're much more dangerous.

It's around two in the morning when Rain finally retires to her room and she finds Thistle staring up at the ceiling. His bed is still done, she notices, so he's made no attempt to actually get some sleep. "Hey," she greets casually as she pulls off her boots and jumps onto her own bed. He grunts in reply, which is as friendly as any of his greetings ever get. She takes up a similar position as him, drawing up her legs and laying back so her eyes are upward. "Tomorrow…"

"Yeah." She's surprised when he speaks. "Tomorrow."

There's no point in running around in circles and riddles. It's been bothering her for days, ever since training started, but Rain knows that with the time they have left, she has to be straight forward. "What are you going to do tomorrow? Who are you going to ally with?"

She sees his body visibly tense out of the corner of her eye. There's no point lying or skirting around it; everyone is allying themselves with others, bracing themselves for the impact that is the Hunger Games. They may be children, but even children know how to adapt to dangerous situations. "Oralee came and talked to me earlier," he answers eventually. "'Says she saw me talking to and calming down Joel and Oliver and the other kids during training. 'Said we could work together to keep them safe."

"No one's really safe."

"I know," he snaps impatiently. "But we can keep them as safe as we can, for as long as we can. They should… I don't want them to think they're alone."

Rain stays silent. She knows the feeling he has, of wanting to protect those younger than him, of wanting them to have better lives. She thinks of her younger siblings back home, all of whom are waiting for her to come back. Sarina is fourteen, the same age as River, Oliver, and Drizzle. Ruby is so small, like Dove, and Joel reminds her of Tuck. Rain thinks about how much she wants to go home, how she needs to go home, but she can't erase the faces of the underclassmen from her mind. In order to get home, she'd have to…

No. She can't even think about something so heinous.

The short conversation between the district partner ends before it really begins, leaving Rain to drown in her own thoughts. She rolls over onto her side so that she's facing the wall, glares at it with blood shot eyes. She has to go home, she thinks, but at what cost?

Closing Song: "Stripped" - Shiny Toy Guns

And that's it, folks! The Games start next chapter! Just so you are all aware, as others have already asked, there isn't going to be a real bloodbath. I do have something planned, but seventeen people aren't going to be killed in one swoop. I guess I'll leave the explanation for the next chapter, though, ha ha.

Also, I apologize to those who may be unhappy with your scores. I couldn't give everyone a high scores, and remember that a high score doesn't always equal a strong tribute. (Aka one Johanna Mason.)

Thank you to everyone who's reviewed and supported me thus far - I love you all so much. :)

may the odds be ever in your favor,
der kapitan