AN: Sorry it's been so long! (I feel like this is how I start a lot of my chapters) I had (and still have) my NaNoWriMo story to deal with, so updates aren't going to be as often as they never were in the first place. Thanks for not giving up on me!

Alcyone "Ally" Ellison

The gaping sky empties barrels of rain against Five's grimy streets, turning the dusty roads to mud on impact. One wrong step could land me knee-deep in a murky wet puddle, so, like my brother when we'd hike through the woods as kids, I am cautious not to take any wrong steps.

I'm crossing over the bridge in my soaking sneakers when I hear someone behind me, calling my name. After squinting through the rain, I pick out Electra, her dark braids swept away from her face in a loose bun. She's keeping dry under a small, plastic umbrella. I'm suddenly hyper-aware of my muddy pants, my dripping hair.

"There you are!" she says. "You're drenched, come under here!" I oblige, realizing that despite the district's muggy heat, I'm shivering.

"Where are you going?" I ask, wringing out my ponytail, careful not to drip on her.

"To SK's, of course," she replies. "To watch the Games?"

"Uh, nobody answered the door when I knocked." I tell her a careful truth. Someone had been home, but whoever I saw inside certainly wasn't Seoc Kelvin, and even more certainly didn't want to greet me at the door, as they disappeared into the back of the house the moment they heard me knocking.

"Oh, he must have forgotten to tell you!" exclaims Electra. "He had to pick up an extra shift at the butcher's today. He should be back home by now."

I suggest we keep going, then, and Electra nods. She links her arm through mine. I feel my face grow hot. We push on.

This time, when we knock, Seoc Kelvin answers, more haggard than usual. The dark bags under his eyes look like they've been drawn there with paint.

"Ally? Electra?" he asks, squinting. "What are you doing here?" He sounds more nervous than irritated.

"You invited us to come watch the Games at your place?" I remind him, frowning.

It takes him a moment. "Oh, yes! I did invite you." He glances back over his shoulder, into the house. "We can't do that anymore. My mom's home."

"What's the big deal?" I ask. "I've met your mom." Normally I wouldn't press further like this, but it's a long way to walk home in the pouring rain, and mandatory viewing hours are almost upon us. In twenty minutes or so, he'll have to let us in.

Seoc Kelvin shrugs. "It's just…It's not a good time, Ally. I'm sorry."

I sigh. "It'll never be a good time, will it, Seoc Kelvin—"

"Seoc!" He shouts suddenly, cutting me off. I blink at him, wordless. Shamefaced, he takes a breath, and lowers his voice to a volume I can barely hear above the rain. "It's just Seoc. I don't want to be called Seoc Kelvin anymore, please, just call me Seoc."

Electra frowns. "SK, what's going on?"

"It's Seoc." I mutter.

Seoc shrugs, looking away. "I can live with SK."

"Something's wrong." Electra keeps her eyes on him. "Tell us, Seoc. Is there anything we can do?"

Seoc bites his lip, shaking his head. "There's nothing." His voice sounds choked.

Suddenly, it clicks. "Your parents. They've gotten worse." He looks at me then, and I know I'm right. "What happened?"

At first, he just shrugs. It's a while before he's able to reply. "I can't find my Dad. He's just…gone, and Mom hasn't even noticed. Half the time she doesn't realize I'm there, or that Kelvin's gone, or…"

"Kelvin!" comes a shout from the house. "Get back in here, son! The Games are starting soon!"

Seoc covers his mouth with his hands. Electra moves to hug him, but he backs away from her. "No, I should go."

"Don't go." I tell him. "Seoc, you don't need to go through this. Come back with us."

"I can't." Seoc whispers.

"Yes, you can. You can wait this out with Electra and I, and we can come back over here together after a while to check on her."

"No, I can't." Seoc shakes his head, backing further into the doorway. "Dad's already gone. I can't risk losing her, too. I have to stay."

"You shouldn't have to put up with this, Seoc, it's not fair."

"Kelvin! Are you there, Kelvin?"

Seoc grimaces. "It's not supposed to be fair."

Then he closes the door between us.

…

I watch the Games at Electra's. Neither of us speak a word to each other about what went down at Seoc's house, because neither of us really know what to say.

It's a slow day in the arena, a sunny and sandy contrast to our district's rain and mud. Almost makes me wish I was somewhere like that. Just with less danger and death.

Since there isn't much action going on, the cameras stray from the star squad and focus on some of the less popular tributes. Chaff strips off the smooth bark from a tree in spirals, to fasten together the beginnings of a crude shelter. I watch the drug addict from Six paint herself into the jungle, using berry juice as paint and her body as a canvas. I sure hope none of her paints are incredibly toxic. And finally, finding nowhere more interesting to go, the cameras zero in on Delilah.

After her district partner's grisly demise the other day, I'm relieved to see that she looks okay, for the most part. Maybe a little tired, a little bruised, but she's still up and walking, which means that, as of Day Two, she's in decent shape. She has a small pack on her, and she's sipping from a canteen of fruit juice sent by a generous sponsor. It seems the people love a good underdog.

There's still hope that anyone who remembers my Games will think twice before counting me out, I remember her telling me, when we said goodbye. I may be older now, may not be able to run as fast or climb as high, but I'm the same girl who made it out of the arena all those years ago. And if I managed to do it once, then maybe I can do it again.

Her smile may have been fake, but the words were genuine. I know Delilah hasn't given up yet.

She seems to know that the cameras are on her now. The victor purses her lips and begins to whistle a song. The melody is low and sorrowful, and it brings forth a weird feeling in my chest, kind of like I've just swallowed a weight and it's dragging me under. Familiar, but I just can't place it. Wherever I know it from, I haven't heard it in a long time.

Slowly, another sound surfaces in the background, a chaotic chorus of a noise, rising in volume until it's drowning out her tune entirely. Delilah stops whistling, her expression panic-stricken, just as I realize what we're both hearing is the sound of rushing water. A massive, dark shadow jumps over her with the speed of lightning. The victor whirls around just in time to see a thousand tons of seawater looming over her head. It all crashes down on top of her with the force of a freight train.

Her cannon sounds almost immediately.

A strangled sound escapes my lips. "No!"

"Oh, no…" Electra covers her mouth with her hands. "Ally?"

I'm on my feet in an instant. The Capitol seal appears on the screen, signaling the end of mandatory viewing hours, but I only see it for a moment, my vision blurring with tears.

"I-I have to go right now." I get out.

"Ally, it's still raining so hard—"

"I'll be fine, I just, I need to—" I rub at my eyes. I don't know what I need to do. I make a lunge for the door.

Electra's hand is on my arm. I can't find it in myself to feel embarrassed anymore.

"Ally, I'm so sorry…" Her touch is reassuring. "Please, stay."

I hesitate, but shake my head. I don't want Electra to see me cry.

She looks defeated. "Take my umbrella, at least."

I do, if only because it's the fastest way I can get out of there.

…

The umbrella drags behind me, useless, for the first half of my walk. With the rain on my face, you would hardly know that I'm crying my eyes out. Except for the fact that my shoulders are shaking, that my nose is running like crazy, and the disgusting, choked sounds I'm making in a poor attempt to pull myself together.

Delilah. The only person in Panem who believed my blind brother could win the Hunger Games. The woman I used to have tea with almost every Saturday, who had friends and a boyfriend and a life, who had treated me like her own family. She can't be dead.

Stop this. I halt in my tracks, feeling the puddle-water seep into my shoes. You're making a fool of yourself in the middle of the street.

I grit my teeth as I compel myself to put up Electra's umbrella, shielding myself from the warm rain. I am making a fool of myself, crying like this.

But moments later, I become aware that I am not the only one.

A skinny blond man with a scruffy beard is sitting just outside the tailor's shop, sobbing into his hands. A step closer and I recognize him as Gavin, Delilah's boyfriend, doing nothing to hide his grief. At this point, it seems, he is past caring.

It takes me all of two seconds to decide whether or not to go up to him.

"Gavin." I greet him familiarly, although we've never been properly introduced. He looks up as though he's been zapped, rubbing at his eyes until I come into focus.

"You…" he says. "Allyson."

"Alcyone."

"Oh." There's a pause, and he breaks eye contact with me to stare at the ground, his grey eyes bleary. "I see."

Another pause. "It's pretty wet out here."

"Is it?" he says flatly. I can't tell if it's sarcasm or just plain apathy. He wrings his hands, staring blankly at the muddy road.

"Yes. I've, uh, got an umbrella." This is harder than I thought it would be. "And the Victor's Village is on my way home…"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Our house…It was hers, not mine." He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "I can't go back there."

I don't bother arguing with him; arguing hasn't gotten me anywhere today, so why bother? Instead I sit with him, trying to remain dry-eyed despite Gavin's failure to, maybe someone channeling my grief into helping him put himself back together.

Turns out, I don't really need to. As I clamp down on my feelings, Gavin takes it at his own pace, and eventually wipes his eyes one last time and stands up. I get up with him, and ask if there's somewhere he'd like to go, if he'd like me and my umbrella to accompany him.

"Yes, that would be great." he says curtly. "Thank you, Alcyone."

"Just Ally is fine."

…

Gavin stays quiet for most of the walk to the Victor's Village, and when he does speak at last, it's almost as if he's talking to himself instead of the girl standing right next to him.

"I wanted to marry her." he says, clearing his throat.

"Huh?" I look up.

"You…probably think it's strange that I didn't marry her." he says. "I wanted to. I asked, plenty of times. Even in the Justice Building, I asked again."

"I didn't think it was strange." I did. "Did she say no?"

"It was my fault. The timing was always just bad." He shakes his head. "Too early in the relationship, the first one. Then after that, the Capitol had too many eyes on her. She didn't want everyone in Panem watching our wedding."

"That's understandable."

"I figured this last time was my last chance." Gavin clears his throat again. "If there was ever a time to get engaged, it was then. She could have taken the ring into the arena as her token, gotten more sponsors…Might have saved her."

"It wouldn't have made a difference."

"It might have."

"Why did she say no, then?" I ask.

Gavin straightens up then, almost hitting his head on the umbrella. I decide not to push it, bring my eyes back to the muddy road ahead. After a moment, Gavin answers me.

"She knew she was going to die."

I stop abruptly. "What?" Gavin just looks at me miserably.

"That can't be true!" I say. "She told me she thought she could make it! She told me she still felt like the kid who won the Fifty-first Games!"

Gavin looks away. "Ally, the kid who won the Fifty-first Games was not a proper victor."

"What…What do you mean?"

"You're too young to remember it. Delilah was your age when she won. She was tiny, terrified, half-blind. She hid in the dark nearly the entire time."

"She couldn't have…"

Gavin keeps going. "She only won because the boy from Two needed a weapon to finish her off, and the only one within reach was buried in his stomach. He pulled it out, went for Delilah, and bled out before he could get to her." He gets choked up again. "She was so lucky. She knew she couldn't pull that off again."

I can't respond. I don't know how. Instead, I put one foot in front of the other, Gavin does the same, and we continue our trek to the Victor's Village in silence.

AN: I know a slightly-long chapter isn't good enough to make up for all the time I've spent not writing, but I'm working on it. I'll finish this story if it's the last thing I do!

It was fun to write about Delilah's first Games, significantly more fun than it was to kill her off. I'm sorry. But if I ever finish Fearless, then Delilah's Games is next on the list! (Except I kind of just told you the ending, so maybe I should rethink that…)

Thanks for reading, reviews are much appreciated!

Next Chapter: Adrian II can't look at the ocean the way he used to.