A/N: Yeah sorry this is late... by like awhile. I know I said I wouldn't update last week but then I was late on this week so... yeah, lots of things I've been up to. I've been busy since I got home but that will hopefully quiet down.

For now, enjoy this depressing chapter. Because everything in this fic is depressing. Because its a Hunger Games fanfic. Enjoy!

Chapter 21: Sacrifice

Willow

We reach the foot of the plateau by sunset the next day and I decide we should wait for the light to try and climb it. There are too many places we could slip without light to see. I'm not worried about the climb. Its nothing I can't handle. But I'm worried about little Cinder. He'll need my help to climb it.

I don't want to lose him to these rocks like I lost Skeet.

"Do you think I'll make it up?" Cinder asks. "I've never climbed before."

"Nothing? Not even trees?" I raise my eye brows.

Cinder shakes his head. "No."

"But you're from District 7 right?" I asked. "Lumber? They have a ton of trees there. They must have woods as far as they eye can see."

"They do. But only workers are allowed up in the trees." Cinder says. "In a few years, I'll be old enough to climb. Then I'll help cut down the smaller branches like the other younger people do." He traces his finger along the bark of a tree. "My brother Winter never did that. He grew so fast and so big that they couldn't trust him to climb a tree without breaking the branches. He did well with the saw though." Cinder's shoulders sag. "I miss him. We had plans for how we were going to survive the games. Then he died in the blood bath."

"I'm sorry." I murmur.

"You shouldn't be." Cinder looks up at me. "He was about to kill your sister. It was the blonde girl from District 1 who killed him before he could."

My eyes widened. So Jade had saved Holly in the blood bath? A pang went through my heart and I felt a little sick. Jade was dead now. I never knew what she did and I hadn't trusted them. I wonder who managed to kill Jade when she seemed so strong.

"I'm sorry anyway." I said. "I mean, its not as if it made a difference in the end. My sister is still… gone." My throat tightens as I say it. I still can't manage the true word. It gets stuck in my throat. The same thing happened to me after our dad died. I couldn't say it for so long. So I used the word 'gone' instead. 'Gone' gave some hope for return. The tiniest sliver of a lie to keep my delusion going.

"Killing people wasn't part of the plan." Cinder said. "We were supposed to run for it immediately. But he got caught up in the rush. He started lashing out." He wraps his arms around his legs. "I don't know what happened really."

I bite my lip and rest a hand on Cinder's shoulder. I feel compelled to. He reminds me so much of my little brother, one of the only people I've ever been good at comforting.

Holly is the other one of course. How are mom and Walter taking her death? Do they blame me for not being able to protect her? Maybe they are just hoping I return home safely.

I plan to… but if I do, that means this little boy in front of me will be dead.

"These games turn some people into animals." I say at last. "It's a survival instinct to kill or be killed. It takes away what makes us human. It's part of their game."

"But we're still human." Cinder says slowly, looking up at me.

"You're right. Neither of us have lost ourselves." I say. "And as long as we don't, the Capitol doesn't completely win."

Cinder smiles and nods. I hope the Capitol is watching. I hope the world is watching and hears my words.

After a long pause, I stand. "Come on, Cinder. I'll teach you how to climb a tree."

"Really?" he asks, standing as well.

"Sure." I say, walking toward one towering oak with low hanging branches. "There's still some light out. If we get a little practice in now, you'll—"

A sharp gasp and short squelching sound stop my words in my throat. It's a sound I know well but don't want to hear it. I whirl around to see a large, imposing figure blocking my view of Cinder. I am just in time to see said figure jerk his sword from Cinder's stomach.

"Cinder!" I cry out.

"There you are, little one. I've been looking for you." The figure who can be no one other than Lance turns around, brandishing his sword still slick with Cinder's blood.

With a hiss I launch one of my knives at him. It's a bad shot in my panics and it only nicks his shoulder as he lunges toward me. I manage to draw my other blade but before I can bring it up, he knocks me down. I hit the ground hard and the breath is driven from my lungs. I am gasping, stunned, but even so I try to raise my arm with the blade. He grips my wrist hard enough to nearly crush it and I cry out.

"Drop the knife, little one." Lance snarls in my ear. I do because if I manage to get away, I won't be able to climb with a broken wrist.

Not that I think will get away. With him on top of me now, I know I'm going to die. I keep my breathing even, trying to make my face calm. Trying not to show fear. He's an animal after all, and animals latch onto fear.

"Is that the knife you did it with?" Lance asks. "Did you clean the blood off after you ran? Really clever of you, girl, waiting until we were weak to strike. Breaking the unspoken rules of the game. You didn't care. You're a little hunter. A born killer. Like me."

"What are you talking about?" I hiss. "I'm not like you."

"No, you're better, aren't you? I thought about doing what you did straight away. But you were gutsy enough to actually go and do it. Who would have thought? Little girl like you." Lance laughs. He is crazed. His eyes swirl with blood lust. "But I'm still gonna win. Your plan didn't quite pan out. You should have killed me."

"I would have loved to." I spit at him but I freeze when I find his sword at my throat.

"But you didn't. So now, you're all mine to kill. I'm going to carve you up so nice, little one. And I'll keep you alive as long as possible while I do. You're not going to look human anymore." Lance laughs again. "Not that you ever were? We're all animals, little one. All of us." He moves his blade up to my face. "Why don't we start… here?" He presses the tip of his sword into my face. I feel blood well up beneath the cut but I grit my teeth against the pain. I will not scream for him. I will not.

He jerks the sword down sharply and a pained cry escapes me as he slashes a deep cut in my face.

"Good." He said. "Make sure you scream so the audience can hear." He looks up at the sky. "We have to give them a good show, don't we? LET'S GIVE 'EM A SHOW THEY'LL NEVER FORGET!"

In his rage he doesn't noticed a tiny form sneaking up behind him, or the glimmering knife, my knife which I threw earlier, in his hand. Not until the figure stabs him in the side. My eyes widen as I see Cinder, still alive, stabbing my blade into Lance's flesh as far as it can go. His teeth gritted together from the effort. I can't imagine the pain he is in right now.

Lance howls and swats him away. In the process, he releases my arm. I move in a flash, scooping up the knife he made me drop and sitting up, driving my blade into his throat. Lance coughs and blood spills from his mouth and I see pure hatred in his eyes. Then I see nothing at all.

His cannon fires.

Disgusted, I push the man off me. My cheek burns and I'm panting, my head spinning as my adrenalin starts to fade. How close I came to death. I would have died if not for—

Cinder!

I call the boy's name, scrambling over to his side as fast as I can. He has fallen on his back near a clump of bushes. His side is torn open and he's bleeding profusely. Its amazing he's still conscious. His eyelids flutter as he looks up at me, a child looking for comfort in his last moments. I want to reassure him but it would be a lie. He is dead and we both know it.

Instead I grasp his hand. "Thank you, Cinder. Thank you. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He squeezes my hand with the last of his strength and manages to squeeze out just one word.

"Win."

Then his hand goes limp in mine and a second canon fires.

I don't know how long I sit there, limply grasping the boy's hand, staring at his lifeless face. He is one more person I failed to protect. I could not protect Skeet or his sister. I could not protect this little boy. I could not protect Cinder.

This is the Hunger Games. There is no protecting anyone's life without sacrificing your own. Cinder sacrificed himself for me.

I can't let that be in vain.

Slowly I push myself to my feet, though my legs are wobbly, and I move away from the bodies so that they can be taken away. I gather supplies and move off toward the foot of the plateau.

Tomorrow I will climb the plateau and I will meet with the last competitor in the arena.

Jasper.

Tomorrow we will both fight for the twin sisters we lost on this battleground.

Haymitch

Willow's survival is basically a miracle, though a cruel one. Sorry to say but during her fight with Lance, I almost considered it kinder if she died. Then she wouldn't ever have to know.

Tomorrow she will face Jasper and perhaps he will kill her. It's a final show down. The kind of thing the capitol loves. Tonight everyone will be taking bets on who will win. Jasper, the career with a heart of gold who lost his star crossed lover and his sister, or Willow the trained killer, who's love for her sister made her the deadliest weapon.

They keep talking about it on the screen. I can't help but mute it. Nothing will happen tonight. The game makers know what the audience wants. They will keep all obstacles away from Willow and Jasper until they reach the top of the plateau. They would never let their games end so climatically.

"Thank you." Katniss says, when I mute the broadcast. We are both tired of hearing all of this talk. This has been a long, tiring games, especially for her. Who knew her first games would be such a blood bath.

I almost wish we got two weakling tributes that died early on. Then it would over quick and easy. It would have been a good way to introduce Katniss to the pain of the games. This is a horrible mix of bloodshed and hope that is ripping her apart from the inside out.

And it won't end when the final cannon is shot. It will keep going for Willow if she wins, a worse nightmare than Katniss or I have suffered. When she finds out. When she finds out what she has become.

"Haymitch." Katniss says slowly.

"Yeah?" I ask, looking at her.

"I want her to lose." Katniss murmurs, looking up at me. "Is that wrong? That I want Willow to lose so she doesn't have to suffer anymore?"

After a long pause, I sit down next to her on the couch and wrap an arm around her shoulders, the best comfort I can offer.

"No sweetheart. It's not."

A/N: Tune in next week for the final show down. Place your bets: Who do you think is going to win and who do you want to win? Anything goes! Let me know in your reviews and enjoy your weekend!