Hey, guys. Um, how are you all? *tumbleweed* Is anyone still there? If you've never read my works before, um, hi, welcome. I turned into one of those 'leaves-the-story-mid-writing' people.

...It's been two years. That's surreal. The first year was hiatus. The second was needed. And I won't lie to you, this isn't my comeback. I probably never will, but I'll pop in to update now and again. ...

Disclaimer: I've pretty much forgotten what I do and don't own. Cassandra Clare and Suzanne Collins probably own everything. Except those OC's I made up and really am sorry for!

It took me over 2 hours to reread the chapters with the arena, and map out what had happened. Seriously, in the last chapter, gideon dies in the morning and then suddenly it's the evening? And obviously since the arena works like clockwork... look it was a bitch to figure out. I was like ah yes: they moved from (11) insects to the (10) tidal wave. That means Jace, Will, and the rests' camp can be in 12 so that means it's plausible for them to run into each other... NOPE because it's evening by the time they arrive to the career pack! So that leaves Tessa and Jem back at base in (4) Jabberjays. Fuck that doesn't work. ...Is anyone reading this? Hi? No it's in lightning it's fine. STORYTIME NOW.

"Jem?" Tessa said, softly and quietly, breaking the silence of the night. He'd disappeared into the trees a long while ago, assuring Tessa that he would never be far.

But that was while it was still light, not long after Will and Jace had left, a darkness in their eyes as they had. Two cannon blasts had sounded some amount of time later, and Tessa's anxiety had reached its peak.

The fact that the coldness of the night was closing in on her wasn't helping. Neither was her dehydration, or the feeling of her heart beating in her throat as adrenaline prepared her for an attack.

"Tessa?" Jem's voice was instantly reassuring, as he dropped down from one of the trees to land beside the district four girl. "Is everything alright?"

Tessa's grey orbs slowly raised to meet his, widening in alarm at the whiteness of his eyes— for they were usually a steady mercury. "They aren't back." She told him. "The cannon went off and they aren't back yet. Jem, what if they're..." Tessa trailed off, unable to complete her sentence.

Jem sat down, his eyes on the grainy shore. "They're alive. I can feel it. You know of my bond with Will. Do you really think I'd be if he weren't here?"

"But what of Jace? What if he… there's no way you can tell…"

"I can, Tessa. I know that he's alive."

"Don't lie. Please, Jem just don't."

There was a slight sigh from the boy besides her. "I'm not lying. I'm hyper sensitive to two of the people in this arena, and Jace is one of them."

"How? I get it with Will, but with Jace?"

Jem gave an uncharacteristic snort. "It's not Will I'm sensitive to."

"Then who?"

Jem's head snapped up as he immediately took a standing position, a dagger in each hand with barely processable speed. "Jonathon." He snarled quietly, placing the dagger from his right hand into his left. With his now-free hand, he brought Tessa to her feet, but otherwise paying her no attention.

"Jem?" Tessa whispered in confusion.

"Remember when I taught you to climb?" He asked her.

"I… yes…?"

"Good. Do it."

"Jem?" Tessa repeated, looking around the shoreline to spot the danger Jem could clearly sense.

"Tessa." He told her sharply, cutting open his left palm with his dagger, immediately drawing blood. "Climb the tree."

It'd been an ingenious decision, really. Get rid of Carstairs whilst he was separated from his parabatai.

Dark eyes watched the Gray girl disappear into the trees, as the brain thought about letting her leave. Then she could tell the two Herondale's —when they returned— exactly what had happened to the district one tribute.

But then again, it was already the end of the second day, and people really needed to start dying. It was so inconsiderate of them to live, he was trying to get the games over with as quickly as possible.

Jonathon Morgenstern gave a light smirk as he emerged from the jungle, walking down one of the spokes nearest to the cornucopia.

It was helpful, being drawn to the Carstairs like this. But then, all due to the fact the boy was addicted to Yin Fen, and Jonathon's father had fed it to his wife in order to make their unborn child stronger.

Well, it'd succeeded.

Because of the power of the drug, the dark aura it radiated off of a user, it could be sensed from almost a mile away, if you knew what to search for.

A dark chuckle escaped Jonathon's throat as he neared cornucopia. Carstairs still hadn't moved from his earlier spot, as he leant against a tree trunk.

Passing cornucopia (it wasn't like Jonathon needed to stock up on his blood-caked blades), he stopped halfway down the spoke that'd lead onto the beach he needed to get to.

Carstairs slowly peeled himself from the tree trunk and took two steps towards Jonathon, but otherwise unmoving.

"Jonathon." He acknowledged, with a nod of his head.

The district twelve boy parried this with a smirk. "Carstairs."

"Lovely weather." Came the neutral response.

"I will never understand why people like you always make such a song and dance about this. Herondale's are arrogant prats, I understand that part, but you? I'd have expected you to run into the trees. You know you can't outright spar with me and win."

Jem gave an insincere laugh. "The Capitol want a good show, don't they? At least, I'm sure that's what you said."

Jonathon's eyes narrowed. "Drop the act, I can see right through it."

"It isn't you I'm putting it on for."

This time, it was Jonathon's turn to laugh. "It changes you, doesn't it? The lust for it."

"If personality were controlled by something as mundane as human want, I'd have eradicated lust a long time ago." Jem responded flatly.

"You know what I mean."

"But you don't know what I do."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Jonathon responded in a bored tone. He might as well let the boy talk.

"You know full well what I mean. We are not born of the same ailment. You've yet to let it touch your lips." Jem held his gaze. "What are you, scared?"

Jonathon gave a slight snarl. "Or maybe I just don't want to throw my life away."

The only response was a cocked eyebrow. "You're in the games." Jem pointed out, as if it wasn't obvious. "And yet you don't have a death wish?"

"Or maybe I just don't want my blood to turn into silver tar."

Jem sighed. "Actually, my blood is still red. Rather inconvenient, actually. It's a nightmare to get out of clothes."

"Do you want to prove that?" Jonathon snapped, his patience with the district one boy wearing thin, as he took a firmer grip on his blade and raised it slightly from its place by his side.

Jem eyed the blade carefully, as if aware he couldn't stall for time any longer.

Of course, Jonathon reminded himself, you should've pointed it out. It is only obvious, by his stature and long responses. He's buying himself more time.

"Certainly." The silver boy told him with a shrug, raising his left palm to Jonathon, showing him an angry red mark and the blood dripping for it. "Most definitely red."

"Cute." Jonathon laughed. "But I was hoping to see a wound a little more severe." Without warning, he swung up the sword to his target, who immediately reacted and avoided the hit. "Not bad." He admitted to Jem, whose eyes were unmoving from their contact with Jonathon's own orbs. "But the longer you survive against my attacks, the more it'll drain from your energy."

"Not bad." Jem mimicked. "Your observation, that is. But longer you're giving your gratuitous ramble, the more time I have to recover."

Without giving a response, Jonathon thrust his blade forwards, taking satisfaction in the cry of pain that followed.

The walk was slow and tiresome. Jace was at the very back of the new group, his eyes carefully trained on the three newest members, watching sharply for any form of attack that would be lain upon Will, who was at the front of the group and leading the way to camp, following the track marks he and Jace had made from their earlier path to the career pack. So much for hunting, Jace thought bitterly. No food, and only one person dead.

It hadn't even taken the slightest ounce of communication between the two Herondale's to understand the necessity of the diamond-like ensemble. Will, who had the best memory in comparison to Jace, would be at the front and direct them all. However, he was also probably the most disliked member of the group, and did not trust any of the others, so therefore Jace was at the back in order to watch them.

A simple enough plan, but it did mean that Jace was almost isolated from the rest of them, meaning there was no conversation for him to be involved in— thus there was nothing that really kept him awake.

The lust for water no longer burned his throat, but resided as a dull ache. It pained him to know there had been liquid draining from the tree they had spliced and yet they weren't allowed to let it touch their lips.

They wouldn't have an illness in the water, he thought longingly. Because it'd make Jem stronger, and that isn't what the game makers want. He was so sure that Will thought the same, but just, like Jace, refused to voice such an opinion. It seemed like mentioning Jem's ailment was taboo. Either Will had forced people not to bring up the topic, or the mutual respect people held for the district one boy was enough to keep the subject at bay.

Hearing a sharp intake of breath, Jace's attention immediately snapped back to current time.

"Problem, Herondale?" Gabriel's nasally voice asked, sarcasm leaking form every orifice, dripping off of his tongue.

Will shifted his blade to his other hand. "No, not at all," he murmured, more to himself than anything. "My hand, it's cut. I must've just… caught it on the hilt…"

"The hilt's the top of the sword, idiot." The district 11 boy drawled arrogantly, as Will sped up his walking pase, moving with more purpose. "You'd think, being from a district that made masonry, you'd at least know the layout of the blade you're holding."

"Because you'd know all about that, being from agriculture and all." Jace muttered from the back of the group.

Only Alec, standing directly in front of Jace, heard the remark and gave a snort of laughter.

Jace looked up, feeling oddly pleased that he had made the stony Lightwood crack a smile.

"It's late," Isabelle pointed out, looking up at the ever-darkening sky, "how much longer? Should we make camp?" When Will didn't respond, she prompted the group again. "Well?"

"It's—" Will began, before he switched to a short cry of pain, and stumbled on the uneven jungle floor, falling to the floor in a swift crash, immediately attempting to stand up again afterwards, one hand clutching his chest.

Within seconds, both Isabelle and Gabriel had raised their weapons in defense, looking around for signs of an attack. Without Will obscuring the view, Jace was able to see signs of the glimmering waterfront, for the group had been walking in a southward diagonal motion for quite some time.

At the crack of a branch, the two with raised weapons immediately pointed them upward at the trees, where a shadowy figure was present.

"Jace!" A familiar, panicked voice cried, as a clearly agitated Tessa emerged gingerly from the trees, holding onto the branch above her for support.

"Tess!" Jace called back, looking up at the girl urgently. Isabelle slowly lowered her blade, her eyes still anticipating a trick. Gabriel, however, adjusted his sword's position so it was now pointing directly at Tessa. "It's Jem —" At her words, Will's hand immediately flew from his chest. In the weak moonlight, it was clear that his hand was stained. Whipping his head around to orientate himself, he immediately began crashing through the undergrowth towards the waterfront, uncaring if the pack was on his tail.

"The boy... District 12... dark eyes." Tessa began as she finished her descent of the tree, immediately running up to Jace.

"Morgenstern." Jace and Isabelle breathed, as Jace's head looked to follow the path Will had taken.

"We should try and sneak around through the undergrowth..." The district 4 boy devised. "Come out from another side, he won't expect that."

"Are you crazy?" Came Blackthorn's indignant response. "I'm not facing him for the sake of a Herondale."

Isabelle's dark eyes ran up his body scathingly. "You don't have to. But you will remember and regret this moment for a long time."

"Tessa, stay with Blackthorn." Jace directed her, before silently moving further into the jungle with Isabelle by his side. Alec, after a moment's hesitation, followed, leaving Tessa and Gabriel alone in the silence of the foliage.

Wordlessly, Gabriel brought up his blade, and aimed it carefully at Tessa's throat.

Morgenstern, without hesitating, suddenly swung the blade behind him, before whipping around to where he had pointed his blade, unsurprised to see Will, who had narrowly avoided the hit.

There was an unseen fury burning intensely in his eyes, the type of fire that mercilessly sweeps across, and wipes out, entire terrains of land.

"Oh look. The master coming to save his lapdog." Jonathon announced smugly, shaking his head to remove the sweat-coated streaks of hair from his face.

"You're going to fucking die, Morgenstern." Will spoke tightly, his jaw clenched, his words practically snarled.

"Never leave a pug alone in a park, Herondale. Not when the wolves are starving."

With a loud grunt, Will slammed his blade into Jonathon's, and the two began a viscous fight.

"Magnus." Finnick announced urgently, standing atop of the white marble steps that lead to the room all the mentors and designers were watching the Quell.

Heavensbee and Bane immediately broke off their urgent discussion, to look up at a wide-eyed Finnick.

"It's Jem and Will. You'll want to see this."

Apologising to Plutarch, Magnus climbed the steps to Finnick, allowing him to lead the way to the screen. "What happened?"

"No, I can't stay, I have to get the sponsors." Finnick told the cat-eyed man. "It was Morgenstern. Will's practically holding in the contents of his stomach. I was telling you about training, how when one was injured, they both were?" He elaborated, looking at Magnus with desperate eyes. "It's the same here."

"Will they survive." Magnus stated, no question in his tone.

Finnick inhaled and exhaled grandly in response.

Sweeping into the room, the designer peered at the holographic screen, wincing at the images that appeared.

Genuinely forgot how much I loved this story hahaha.

I'm sorry it's been two years. So much has happened you guys!

Any TOP fans out there? Gosh I've fallen in love with their music. Need to bond with some cool beans about Tyler Joseph's sick beats. Innit. (Obviously, I got 'well kool' in my absence)

Hey, if you were a follower of this story 2 years ago, give me a shout! If you're new- um, run. Far away. Next scheduled update is probably 2017.

At least it's not two years!

HAHAHA... Ha.

(Please don't kill me.)