A/N: This took me forever to write because a) I had the perfect scene in my mind which was so tearjerking it made me cry [that and I was listening to a sad song as well] and when I started writing it, it didn't happen the way I wanted, b) Work. Work. Work. Schoolwork after schoolwork kind of impeded my progress as well. But oh well, I finished it! And I'll appreciate it if you read the AN below.

I'm not sure what is a suitable song for this as I wrote it to a bunch of different songs but since the first time I knew how to write this was with this song: watch?v=4qi2e-jMSPM&feature=BFa&list=FLj6Q0I40gCD0hcByVKKwfeg ...listen to it while reading and your reading experience might increase.

Enjoy!

Aeris stared at the screen placed in front of her. Snow had very kindly put a screen in her ward to allow her to watch the final part of the Games- the Feast...played differently. Her hand brushed against her stomach and she shifted her gaze down to it. Her taut lips softened into a smile as she caressed the very small, nearly unnoticeable bump.

"Jan...you have to come back," she whispered. "Our child needs you."

January's POV

The blood sloshing on the ground reminded me of my own Hunger Games. The setting was rather different though. I had just killed a tribute and she dropped into the pond. The last thing I expected was the pond to become so stained with blood that I couldn't even see the bottom. Now, as I stared out at the entrance to the lake sub-arena, I wondered whose blood would be added to the Cornucopia.

I glanced around to take in my surroundings. The space I was in had been partitioned by two forcefields. One on my left and the other on my right. The same went for Cyrena, Ivy, Edel, Weiss, and Janaury. This was to prevent us from running to help each other and having the tributes interfere with our own personal fights. I say personal because...we were all related to each tribute we were facing in one way or another.

It didn't take long for Heather to come and I focused on her. I registered her surprised expression. Taking her moment of surprise to my advantage, I moved to strike first but her plaintive sounding voice asked me, "J-Jan? What...what are you doing here? N-no. Who are you?!"

That hurt, rather unexpectedly. It seemed as if Heather didn't recognize me...no, she did. She was just trying to not recognize me. I stood up straight again and sucked in a deep breath. Ever since we were told that we were to enter the arena to fight our beloveds to the death, I started to prepare myself mentally but it still didn't work.

"I'm your brother. Don't you re-" my breath caught. Remember. I wanted to say remember, not recognize. "-cognize me?"

"He's dead...I...I didn't see him die in his Games but I know he's dead! He never came back," she replied.

But I'm right here. Heather...I still remembered the fight I had with her the day before I got reaped. It was over something rather childish now that I think about it. Too late, regret coursed through. I knew she recognized me but she was denying it because...if she killed me, she would have ended up killing her own brother. And if I killed her...I would have killed my own sister.

I had two choices. One was to make it easier for the two of us by agreeing with her and saying that I was indeed someone else and the other...the other was to force her to admit that I was her brother.

We both regarded each other steadily, hands gripping the tridents tightly. Selfishly, I wanted the latter. But...her eyes were pleading with me to allow her this denial, to relieve her- both of us, of this pain. I took one step forward and raised my trident. I would.

Heather's POV

I wasn't sure who struck first; me or him. Our tridents clashed together, creating a clang that reverberated around us. January's trident stabbed at me but I managed to parry it. We both took several steps back and then our tridents clashed again.

Again and again our tridents met. It felt like an unending stalemate. We both knew each other too well. Before he...ended up being reaped (there, I admitted it), we would spar with each other all day long beside a lake. We weren't careers, our parents (or father) deciding to keep us away from the horror of the Hunger Games. They were riding on the slim chances that we would not be reaped. The slim chances became slimmer after my mother's death because we started having to draw tessarae.

I gritted my teeth as I blocked another blow from him and after forcing his trident away from me, charged at him. He barely managed to sidestep my attack but I grazed his side. However, his trident was already raised behind me. Panic spiked in me. I had gotten careless! But instead of feeling the stabbing pain that was sure to come, I only felt the tips of his trident grazing across my back.

I tumbled onto the blood-filled ground and stared up at January. Why...why had he not killed me right then and there? Our eyes met each other and I saw the pain in his. Despite us not openly admitting to each other our relation, we still knew it deep down. And that was stopping us. The knowledge was stopping us. ...I wondered what mine reflected.

"I'm sorry," he mouthed to me and drove the trident down.

I rolled away at the last second. I could have just stayed there, allowed myself to die but something in me wanted to survive. I jumped up and grabbed my trident off the ground that I had lost grip of earlier. I raised it in front of me and backed away from him. The hand gripping the trident was shaking, my entire body was quivering. Tears pricked at my eyes and I hurriedly blinked them away. I could not let them obstruct my vision.

Once again, our tridents clashed against each other. As children, we would hit and taunt each other. We would be yammering out nonsensical cries that promised death. We would be letting loose battle cries. But it was all done in good fun. At the end of our sparring, we would lie on the grass and watch the sun set. Never did the thought of sparring against each other cross our minds. Not even once.

And here we were, fighting. Not just for our lives though; we were fighting for the lives of other people. Or in my case, the lives that had faded away from me. My mother, father, the brother I used to know and Delphinium. I had nothing to live for anymore but I had them. I would live and carry on their will. Their lives would be my driving force.

Once again, I found myself lying on the floor, blood lapping at me. Our eyes met again, I could see my panting self reflected in his darkened orbs. This time round, he had placed his left foot on my right arm to prevent me from grabbing my trident. His trident hovered above me. The agony in his bluish-green orbs was painful to even look at but I did not look away. And yet, within them, there was an unwavering resolve...to kill me.

It was then that I realized that I was processing all this too calmly. I was internalizing everything, trying to rationalize everything. It was unlike me, I was irrational. I did not process things calmly.

"Why are you fighting?!" I burst out, tears falling. I knew then that the reason for my being out-of-character was because everything in my "reunion" with January was all too surreal.

"Why am I fighting?" he asked me then trailed off as his gaze turned distant. My free hand slipped under my back and tried to search out for the dagger that I had brought with m. "The question is more of...who am I fighting for that I would be so willing as to go as far as killing my own sister. It's...for Aeris. I love you, Heather, I really do but Aeris...she's far more important to me right now. She has something to tell me."

His gaze became even more distant at that. As if he was mulling over what she could possibly have to tell him. My tears were falling faster now. Not because that he had chosen his district partner over me but because of what I wanted to do next. His gaze hardened then, as he returned back to reality and I froze.

When he smiled, it was sad. "I think I know what it is though. She's been my wife for six years and we probably spent an entire lifetime in the arena together. I saw the bump, I saw the baby bump. I don't really want to believe it but...she's pregnant."

He sounded as if he was trying so hard to believe it. Tears were welling up in his own eyes too. For a long moment, none of us moved or spoke. It was like we were both trying to preserve this last moment before we faced the harshness of reality. I let out a small sob. When I was nine, I dreamed of a world of happiness and bliss spent with my brother and father. When his Games ended and he never came back, our father fell into depression and then committed suicide, leaving me with my grandparents. Now, I was sixteen and was disillusioned to a world that I wished for when I was nine.

...instead, I yearned for the time before the Hunger Games tore my entire family apart. I desired the innocence that my brother and I held.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I whispered over and over again.

Tears blurred my vision. Just as well, I couldn't bear to look at what I was doing. His shocked expression was so vivid in my mind that it felt as if I was viewing my own arm moving even though my eyes were squeezed shut. His cry of pain was piercing as my dagger plunged into his side- and into his lung by the sound of how he gurgled. At the same time, something sharp pierced right into my very chest and I let out my own scream of agony.

Something splashed into the water beside me. I opened my eyes again. Bluish-green orbs stared into my own turquoise ones. Our hands reached out for each other and we grasped each other's hands lightly. He smiled faintly at mine. I was well aware of the tears streaming down from our own eyes. My own heart was washed over with grief and it felt as if it was being ripped into half.

"I'm sorry too," he whispered.

The grip on my hand started to slacken bit by bit. The same was happening to me. Slowly, we were losing each other. Together in death...I always liked to think that January and I would die together. I didn't know what I would do without him after all. I just never imagined that it would be like that.

"What would you name your child?" I asked then drew in a shuddering breath. It was getting harder and harder to breathe. I felt like I was suffocating.

"Mm...something to do with the sea. Seacrest perhaps?"

"That's a silly name. You should name him Finn or something." Finn was the name my parents wanted to give me if I turned out to be male.

He smiled faintly once more. His entire face twisted into an agonized expression when he shifted his head a little closer to mine. I just realized that he was dying the same way as Delphinium. He pressed his forehead against mine and then exhaled heavily. I didn't mind his forehead on mine. It reminded me of what we used to as kids.

"Yes...yes I should," he answered softly before his eyelids fluttered shut.

His grip on my hand went limp and I saw the rise and fall of his chest start to slow. His entire body started to go limp. I found myself wanting to slap him awake. To just do anything that would wake him. I wanted to shake him but I didn't have the strength to. My strength was ebbing away bit by bit.

"Jan, Jan, Jan, Jan. Noooooooo."

I pushed myself up with my free arm. I wanted to let go of his hand but I wanted to hold it at the same time. I held it. After a great deal of grunting and pushing, I finally managed to lever myself up. The trident was getting in my way so I yanked it out of my chest and watched blood spurt out of my chest. I didn't have much time left.

I let out a cry of pain as I landed back on the ground but I had gotten myself where I wanted to be. Hand still gripping as tightly as it could on his limp and chilling hand, I pressed my lips against his forehead.

"I love you," I whispered.

Three words I never got to hear spoken solely from his lips. It would usually be accompanied with something else. He never expressed his love through words but through actions instead. His steadfast and undying love and loyalty...loyalty to his wife, Aeris.

My breaths started to come in short gasps. I was lacking oxygen. Finally, I started to relax myself, staring at the now dripping blood drip from his wound. Our blood could easily be identified; fresh and scarlet in contrast to the dull crimson. Blood was thicker than water. The saying didn't exactly match the situation if I thought about it but...our blood was mixing together, forming an inseparable bond. I hoped his wife would be able to raise their child alone. An insurmountable remorse surged in me. It was my fault. If I had not killed him...but the time for regrets was long past.

I closed my eyes.

A/N: And that concludes the end of Heather and her brother. Hohoho. I would love to make Finnick their child but I did some calculations and he wouldn't exactly be fourteen by his 65th Games...that and I don't want to mess with the canon too much.

I'll love it if you guys go to my profile and vote on the poll there! It'll help me with my next SYOT and if you guys have any ideas for the arena for it, just PM me :D. The prequel and sequel (SYOT) will be posted after WLBP ends. I'm having 8 bloodbaths which are going to be made by me. Which leaves 16 free slots for you all. I'll have the list of taken spots by the bloodbaths by the end of tomorrow (no school. Yay!) and if you're interested, shoot me a PM.

Darn, this spell check FF has kind of scares me a little.