Okay, so there are some triggers in this chapter. I'm not going to say what they are, because spoilers, but just be warned.

There was silence for a while. The three Tributes stood still, Alex and James facing Rumlow across the blackened and burned ground. It was like Alex and James were waiting for Rumlow to make the first move, but he was daring them to. And it was really dawning on all three of the Tributes that this really was it now. Two of them were going to die, and there was no way around that. The Games would end today, the Gamemakers had led them all here, and there was no chance of them allowing any of the Tributes to run.

At that point, it was better to stay and die with some amount of dignity.

After about a minute, the silence got too much for James, and he shouted out, "Come on then, you bastard! If you're going to kill one of us, get it over with. Don't just stand there!"

For another few moments, Rumlow stayed where he was. But the neutral expression on his face was wiped away as a smirk twisted over his lips, and he took a step forward.

James felt an instinct to walk backwards and pull Alex with him, but he had no intention of seeming weak against this brute. He was having trouble remembering that he wasn't allowed to just push Alex out of the way and let Rumlow kill him, that he wasn't allowed to try and ensure that she was the one to live.

Alex's current pattern of thought was mostly focused on not revealing how absolutely terrified she was. That smirk that Rumlow was wearing as he got closer was almost more frightening than when she had seen him kill someone. There was just something so taunting about it, like he knew that he was going to kill them, that he would be the one to survive. And that he was already pleased and proud of that fact.

Alex wasn't too far wrong in her thinking. Rumlow was very confident in his chances here. And he already knew the easiest way to go about this. Take out the boy while he was distracted by the girl, and then kill the girl. He couldn't imagine that she'd exactly be difficult to kill. He would be the Victor within a few mere minutes. And the two of them were even kind enough not to move apart as he continued to move towards them.

Rumlow was only about five metres away from them when Alex finally snapped back into herself. She pushed James as hard as she could and ran in the opposite direction, putting as much space between them as possible. She didn't want to leave James' side, there were already tears threatening to form in her eyes as she thought about what could happen next. But she and James had made a pact, and she had to respect that.

Stumbling slightly in surprise as Alex pushed him, James realised what she was doing. If they put as much space between them as possible, then Rumlow would be forced to kill them one at a time. It didn't look like he had any weapons on him, and so, he would have to kill them with his bare hands. When he and Alex were facing each other across the plain, about twenty metres between them, James stopped moving, and stood still, staring Rumlow down.

And the District One Tribute was still heading for him. James couldn't help himself from audibly sighing in relief. Rumlow was going to kill him. Which meant that Alex had a chance of living. He moved his gaze away from Rumlow and looked at Alex again, letting a small, very nervous, but no less genuine smile from on his lips. "I love you," he mouthed at her. "It's going to be okay. I love you."

For a few seconds, Alex was completely frozen. Rumlow was going after James. He was going to kill the man she loved. How could she just stand there and watch, and not do anything? How could she let the only person left in her life who loved her be murdered, just to give herself a slim chance at living?

But she forced herself to stay where she was, her feet itching to move forward, her hands trembling, tears really in her eyes now.

James tried to keep his eyes on Alex, wanting to look at her as much as possible before he could never look at her again. His own cheeks were wet with tears, but he made no sound. He just stood still, far too conscious of the cameras that were on him, and waited for Rumlow to get closer. He hoped it would be quick. He hoped it wouldn't hurt too much.

James' view of Alex was very soon interrupted as Rumlow stood in front of him. "Come on, don't pretend you don't want to fight back," Rumlow goaded. "You want to slug me right now, don't you? It doesn't even matter whether you want to or not; you can't beat me. And, when I've stamped your head into the ground, you one armed freak, I'm going to go over to your pretty little girlfriend. And I won't kill her quickly, no way. I'm going to take my time with her, I'm going to make her scream, make her beg me to kill her. No District Twelve runt should have been allowed to get this far, even if she is easy on the eyes."

Anger was boiling up inside James, but he tried his best to keep calm. But his eyes were dangerously bright.

"She's my last kill, and she's not going to be a challenge," Rumlow sneered. "But I'll find my way to have some fun with her. That bitch is mine."

That did it. James raised his metal fist and punched Rumlow square in the face as hard as he could. And then he simply stood back, calm once more.

A snarl came from Rumlow as he straightened up, blood dripping from his nose. His hands went straight around James' neck, his thumbs squeezing down on his windpipe.

While Rumlow was in front of him, it wasn't difficult to see what was happening. And, as Alex watched Rumlow throttle James, all thoughts of the promise that she and James had made to each other went out of her head completely. The only thoughts that she had in that moment were of saving James, of not losing James.

She still had a knife stuck through her belt. Alex dug it out, gripping the handle tightly. She took a few deep breaths, knowing that she didn't have long, James couldn't possibly hold on for much longer.

Without even really thinking about what she was doing, acting on instinct, Alex threw the knife as best she could, aiming for Rumlow's back. But it didn't hit his back.

Instead, the knife landed higher. It struck Brock Rumlow in the neck, and he suddenly contorted, throwing his head back as his hands dropped from James' throat. He made a quick rasping noise, before falling backwards, his broken neck at an odd angle as he hit the floor, and the knife peeking out from the front of his throat.

James stared down at the body, coughing as his oxygen starved brain attempted to comprehend what had happened. There was a spattering of blood across his own face, and he raised his flesh hand to wipe it away from his eyes as the reality of what had happened dawned on him.

The cannon had sounded. Rumlow was dead.

And he and Alex were the only two Tributes left.

In the Capitol, several of the Gamemakers swore as they watched the knife plunge into Rumlow's neck. It would have made everything so much easier if the District One Tribute had just killed Barnes. A lot of them were tired now, they wanted the Games to end, they wanted to go home.

But Alexander Pierce didn't curse. He didn't get angry, or frustrated. Instead, a little smirk flickered onto the corner of his mouth. The ending of the Games was all about putting on a show. And he had an idea.

"Get rid of the suicide preventions," he instructed, not caring which of the Gamemakers did it.

There was a pause, and Zola looked up at the Head Gamemaker. "Sir? But, won't President Schmidt-"

"Schmidt wants a show," Pierce replied simply. "And we're going to give him one."

The silence that hung in the air felt like a thick fog. Alex couldn't believe what she had done. She had gone against her own idea, gone against what she had promised James, and she had brought the two of them to the outcome that they had hoped would never happen. The scenario that Alex had feared ever since the Reaping had happened – she was the last Tribute left alive, other than someone she loved, and who loved her.

And neither of them would be prepared to let the other one sacrifice themselves.

It had been almost five minutes since the cannon boom that had signalled Rumlow's death. Neither Alex nor James had noticed the time passing. They had just been standing there, trying to work out what the hell they were supposed to do now.

And then, all at once, everything seemed to snap back into focus. James ran over to Alex, and pulled her into his embrace, holding her tightly as he started to cry. "Fuck, oh my God…" he whimpered, burying his face into her hair.

"I… I'm sorry," Alex said, her voice sounding empty as she wrapped her arms around James' waist and pressed her face into his chest. "I'm so sorry, I didn't think, I didn't realise what I was doing…"

"It's not your fault," James said, holding her even tighter. How could he blame her? James couldn't say that he wouldn't have done exactly the same thing if their positions had been reversed.

Alex shook her head. It was her fault. Their pact had been her idea in the first place, how could she have been so stupid? What the hell were they going to do now? "James, I'm sorry… What are we going to do?"

There was a long silence. James had no idea. One of them had to die, he knew they couldn't wait for the Gamemakers to take one of them out; they were sure to make whoever they chose suffer horribly before they finally killed them. It was better to go now, to go quickly.

And he decided that he wasn't going to give Alex a choice.

James took a little step back from her, and subtly took the knife out of his belt. "Alex, I love you," he whispered, leaning down and pressing a deep, heartfelt kiss to her lips. "I love you so much. And I'm so sorry to ask, but I can't do it myself. One of us has to die, and they won't let me take my own life."

It didn't take much for Alex to realise what James was asking her. "No. James, no. I can't do that, I c- I can't kill you!"

"Alex, listen to me. Please, this is my choice," James said, trying to show as much bravery as he could, but his voice was shaking, and his cheeks were tear stained. "I won't let you die. I'm chosing to go. Just… Just make it quick, okay?" he asked, handing her the knife, and then pointing at a spot just over his heart. "Right here, as hard a- as you can." His voice caught, and more tears spilled from his brown eyes. "Please. One of us has to die, and it's better than it happens like this. I love you."

The knife felt like dead weight in Alex's hand. She didn't know what to say, what to do. How could she kill James? But… What he was saying made a lot of sense. One of them had to die, there had to be a Victor.

Alex stretched up, and kissed James, trying to block everything else out as their lips moved together. "I love you so much," she said quietly, her lips barely leaving his. "And I'm sorry."

Pulling away only slightly, Alex raised the knife, and took a breath.

And then she brought it down as hard as she could, like James had said, and she plunged it deep into her own chest.