DOUBLE WHAMMY LADS. LOVE THIS TOWN: AFTER THREE YEARS I UPDATED. THIS. I UPDATED. I AM THE GOD I HAVE RETURNED

...Please say the group are still around? *tumbleweed* New people? *tumbleweed*

NAH jks jks I'm doing this for myself. Please enjoy and review and favourite and follow if you're around, but this is for me. And I'm happy with it.

Disclaimer: LMAO RIGHT SO THIS IS CALLED FANFICTION. UNDER THE FAIR USE OF COPYRIGHT ACT WE ARE LEGALLY ALLOWED TO WRITE FANFICTION. WE DON'T NEED TO DO DISLCLAIMERS BUT IMMA KEEP DOING THEM

The group was silent. Not a word fell from any of the lips of the tributes as they sat by a diminishing fire, the embers glowing menacingly beneath the burning sticks.

Gabriel Blackthorn's green eyes flicked tiredly to each of the people he was in alliance with. Tessa was hunched over, her knees drawn up to her chest, her light eyes staring into, and seemingly past, the dancing flames.

Alec too seemed pensive; his hair, damp from the humidity of the arena, hung in front of his face.

Isabelle, whom had seemingly given up with her ripped wetsuit, had peeled down the upper half and knotted it around her waist, exposing her white undershirt. Immediately sensing Gabriel's gaze, she maintained eye contact with him, causing him to quickly look out to the cornucopia, where a bruised and bloodied Jace was pacing, although the group were all aware there was nothing left taking from the pointed silver structure.

A badly-injured Will was sitting tightly besides an unconscious Jem. A small, silken parachute had floated down moments after Morgenstern had decided to retreat – seemingly the moment Jace joined the fight – and was discovered to be some form of painkiller, which had sped up their bodies healing process.

Will's sheer fury (although that seemed too weak a word to use) was what had given him the adrenaline to hold up against Johnathon; even if the District 12 boy was clearly a better fighter. The only issue was the shared bond between him and Jem, meaning that an injury sustained on one boy would also appear on the other.

Even now, his body seemed to shake with anger, his jaw tightly set and his usually bright eyes dark and dangerous as he held a cloth to his bleeding stomach.

How he reminded Gabriel of her. Of course, Will was her brother, which was the reason they were eerily similar. Had been, Gabriel reminded himself, causing an icy feeling to run down his spine. She's dead.

Of course, it was no phenomenon when siblings were reaped for separate – or the same– games. It had happened to all three Lightwood children. It always causes excitement, and generates talk about how "the odds are not in that family's favour". But, of course, it happened too frequently to just be "odds". A lot of the people in District 11 seemed convinced the Capitol did it on purpose; rigging the drawings to add extra drama. Maryse and Robert Lightwood had been members of a rebel organisation called "the Circle". How fitting it was that all their children were reaped. Even now, the tributes in these Games seemed all too convenient for anyone's liking.

"I'll keep watch." Will spoke firmly, his eyes still glaring at nothing, or no one, in particular.

"It's not that late, I don't mind." Isabelle replied after a long silence. "You should sleep."

Will gave a bitter, false laugh. "I'd rather stay awake and plot ways to kill Morgenstern."

"To be fair, you have a lot of options." Tessa spoke for what was the first time in a while, looking pointedly at the pile of small weapons laying by the diminishing fire.

Pointing the blade at Tessa's throat, Gabriel spoke his next words calmly, almost lazily. "What's the deal?"

Tessa's eyes, still wide and hectic from the events that had happened moments earlier, seemed to widen further as her grey eyes flicked to the weapon casually aimed at her. "What deal?"

"With you and your three allies."

"I... I don't know what you're–" Tessa began earnestly.

Gabriel couldn't help but be surprised about how confident her voice was. However, the sturdiness of her voice mattered not, for he cut her next words off with a snort of derision. "Herondale and Carstairs don't just team up with a Nobody." Gabriel told her slowly and steadily, as how a teacher would school a child. He tightened his hold on the blade, aiming clearly at her jugular. A direct kill. "So, what's your thing? A girl from District 4 with no bloodlust? I don't buy it for a second."

Gabriel watched her study him intensely, and he knew why. He looked different to most of the other people in District eleven, with his pale skin and sandy, blonde hair. He looked like he was from another District. And people who look from another District mean only one thing. A Peacekeeper's son. It's part of the reason he'd won the games the first time around. With his father's influence and the iron-fist governing of the District, the small collection pool that had been passed around the huts was quickly filled, thus gaining him a sponsor.

Growing tired of the girl's quizzical gaze, he'd moved his sword forward an inch or two. "Well?"

"Cecily Herondale." She breathed suddenly, in realisation.

Gabriel seemed to freeze solid, as the hairs along his spine prickled in canonisation.

"That's why you and Will hate each other," she realised. "Cecily."

"They're far too mundane. I'm more inclined to torture." Gabriel overheard Will telling Tessa as he attempted to wring out the cloth. The lack of humour on his face proved how serious he was.

"Maybe you shouldn't have left the weaker ones alone." Gabriel snapped suddenly, growing tired of Will's attitude. Jem was alive, why was Will complaining?

Will's head rose slowly towards the District 11 boy, his body seemingly quivering with fury. "And you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Blackthorn? Leaving your ally alone in the arena." His voice was quiet, but each word held menace and disgust, despite the clear effort it took for his tired self to say them.

Out of the corner of his eye, Gabriel saw Izzy looking between the two boys, attempting to assess the situation.

Will tossed the bloody cloth aside. "And you wonder why we aren't friends."

"I just wondered," Gabriel said in a more subdued voice, "If perhaps you have ever had enough."

"Enough of what?"

"Enough of behaving as you do. Maybe if people liked you more, they wouldn't take it all out on your treasured boyfriend."

Will crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes glistening dangerously. "If I've ever had enough, hm? Incidentally, that's what your sister said to me the other month after I–"

"Shut up." Isabelle said forcefully to the two of them. "You've lost someone to the Games before, Herondale. Grit your teeth and be thankful it hasn't happened again."

Will opened his mouth to respond, before he found himself cut off by the jungle section across from them. It was vibrating. The trees trembled from the magnitude of the shake, branches snapping and falling to the ground, visible even from where the allies were sat. First they heard it. A piercing scream that broke the silence of the night. Secondly, slowly, they saw it. Throwing itself through the tree-line, forcing the wooden structures to the ground. A gigantic wave that swept towards them. Jace, who had been prowling around the cornucopia at the time, charged across one of the strokes, taking him to a beach several sections across from the group, the wave fast behind him.

"Jessamine Lovelace," Will said, as her face appeared in the sky, and the Capitol anthem faded out, leaving the quiet sounds of the alive jungle within earshot again. "She must have been in the wave."

"Did you know her?" Tessa asked him tiredly, eyes drooping in fatigue as she suppressed a yawn.

"Sadly. You know, she was one of the few people immune to my natural charm and charisma." Will said, before speaking again after a slight pause. "It's too slow."

Tessa, who had no idea what he meant, opened her mouth slightly to voice her confusion, but she was speared answering by Gabriel.

"If you want the death toll sped up, Herondale, I suggest we duel, right now. After you die I don't doubt for a second Carstairs will follow... Not that he isn't on the verge of death anyway—"

"A feast." A soaking wet Jace announced. "Can't they do a feast?"

"Sure," Isabelle snickered. "Maybe if you ask them really nicely they'll throw a whole banquet in your honour."

"You know what I meant."

"There's nothing we need. If the Gamemaker's threw a feast, why would we bother going?" Isabelle shot back.

"They could... Secure us a place in the top three?" Tessa questioned.

"Oh sure, how would they do that one?" Will joined in, taking Isabelle's side. "Oh, hey guys, if you could do us all a favour and not kill this tribute for us that'd be great, thank-you!" He added in an overly-grand tone of splendour, which was clearly a rather crude impersonation of a Gamemaker. "They'd be everyone's next target."

Isabel motioned for them to all be quiet. "Do you hear that?" She asked the group.

Surely enough, a beeping sound was heard as a parachute slowly drifted down towards Jace.

He reached up to grab it and glanced up at his peers. "Whose is it?" He asked as he opened the packaging, picking up the small note.

'Drink me' was printed onto the paper, alongside a gold image that appeared to be of a bird.

He passed the note around as the group, who, bored and desparate for some form of stimulation, all suggested what it could mean.

It was only when it was handed to Will that the fun ended.

"That's the Herondale crest."

Gabriel snorted in derision. "Family crest, how pretentious can you get, you really think–"

"That I don't know the same crest that hung above the doorway of my home? The same crest that I spent 14 years of my life passing? Gosh, you're right, how stupid of me."

"Look, if it's the Herondale crest then it's obviously yours." Alec pointed out.

"Not necessarily. It flew towards Jace." Tessa added.

"I'm not a Herondale." The District four tribute said quickly. "It'll be Will's: this is clearly medicine and I don't need medication right now."

"Maybe just wait." Gabriel sighed. "Speaking of which, can we drink that goddamn water yet?"

"Not until Jem–" Will began.

"Oh be arsed with that fucking superior-being bullshit we treat him with!" Gabriel cried, reaching for a blade. "He's clearly out for the count, who knows if he'll even wake up!"

Will lurched forwards, but it was clear by even the dim glow of the fire that the movement had taken its toll. "Keep... talking," he growled, "and you'll make a lot of enemies."

Gabriel snorted, getting to his feet. "You all want me dead. We all want each other dead. What are we doing like this? There's seven of us, we make up practically half the arena at this point."

"Why are you with us then, Blackstick?" Will snarled weakly. "You're safe to go; we won't follow you."

Gabriel's jaw twitched, and he set off for the treeline, suddenly driving his blade into the trunk, causing a steady flow of water to leak out the trunk. Not even hesitating, he drank from the sprout, and even washed his hands, hair, and face. "Let's see if I'll die, then shall we? Who's next?"

Hesitantly, with a glance at Isabelle, Alec joined Gabriel at the treeline, going through the same rituals he had.

Tessa, Will, Isabelle, Jace and the still unconscious Jem remained on the shore. Tessa scooped up a large clam shell from the pile of crustacea remains from the District four dive the other day. She ran it through her hands smoothly, observing the bowl-like structure.

"Come on, Isabelle." Gabriel called out.

Moving her long strands of hair away from her face, the Lightwood joined her brother and Gabriel in the tree line to bathe in the water.

"You're our best fighter now, Jace." Will said flatly. "Go."

"I–"

"Go." He reiterated, his eyes not following Jace's departure. "You can go too." He added to Tessa.

"I wasn't waiting for your permission." She told him firmly.

That caught his attention.

"Well, look at you, standing up to me whilst I'm all weak. Go on, Tess." He threw a blade across the sand to her, hilt-first. "Finish me off whilst no one's looking. Say I did it myself. They'd believe you."

Taken-aback, it was quite a while before Tessa spoke. "And how would Jem feel when he woke up and saw that had happened?"

Will looked away, his damp, wild hair hanging over his eyes. "Tessa," his voice cracked when he spoke. Licking his lips, he tried again. "I don't think he's... What happens if he doesn't wake up? What happens to..." he turned away from her, completely silent.

"Will..." She approached him on the sand, kneeling behind him. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she could feel him crying. "Will, he'll..." She trailed off. She couldn't promise that he'd be okay. No one could. "It'll be alright."

Will crumpled. His shoulders started heaving and the boy was clearly hyperventilating. "Don't, Tess." He paused for breath. "Don't make out like I can survive without him. I don't..." he paused in a failed attempt to regain himself, "I d-don't know what I'd d-do."

"Oh, Will." She said, wrapping her arms around him and feeling him melt around her. "I'm so, so sorry."

Time was irrelevant. They sat there for ages, not tuned into the group conspiring by the trees.

"I'm sorry." Will said, breaking the silence. "For the way I treated you."

Tessa thought back to that night on the roof. "It's okay." She sighed. "Will, it's so, so okay."

"That girl in the Capitol. The girl I said I was waiting for. She was you, Tess. She was you. The girl who wouldn't just give into me, who loved to read, who seemed to just hate me. It's like everything I did, you preferred Jem. You'd rather train with him, talk with him, even in the arena it's always been him."

"Will, that's not–"

"And I hated him for it. I started to hate him for it because Jem is so much better. And because you deserve him. You really do. And when I think back to that night on the roof–"

"Will..."

"I'm so so sorry. And I'd imagine what it would be like without him, if it was just the two of us, but now that might be happening and I don't know what to do."

"Will, stop." Tessa told him firmly, tracing patterns on his back. "Turn around and look at me."

Will obliged, his eyes boring into hers. They looked so beautiful and fragile, his long eyelashes stuck together with tears that shined like glass beads.

"Yes, Jem is wonderful. He's so smart, and caring, and patient, but," she lowered her volume, "you are just as brilliant. You're funny and outrageous and hurting, and your talent, Will. It's so much more real than Katniss's 'fashion' or Isabelle Lightwood's 'cooking'. I have read every single one of your books."

He blinked. "You know I write?"

"Will, you've taught people to fall in love with real literature again. All the people in the Capitol bought your books because of your brand, because your name was on the cover. They bought your sequels because of what you wrote."

"I–"

"No, it's true. 'Visiting Eternity'," she told his as she cited one of his first novels, "was beautiful. I felt myself falling for the villain the whole time and then at the end you revealed he was the hero of the story. There was something so beautiful about that change of perspective."

"But–"

"You need a change of perspective, Will. Think about that."

In a way she'd have thought out of character for him, Will slowly moved in and pressed his lips to hers. "Thankyou." He whispered, his forehead touching hers.

She said nothing, placing her hand in his hair and beginning to play around with the curls. Although as the silence grew, the group returned, and Will's breathing slowed to quiet snores, she couldn't help but think in her head that she'd done something inexplicably wrong.

Guys it's beautiful. My life right now. It's beautiful. I've found myself. I started this story at 13, I abandoned it at 14, I came back to it at 16 and left. Now I'm 17, and I've ditched my toxic friends and instead have the most wonderful group who would never talk about you behind your back. I'm at college now doing writing and psychology and theatre and media: subjects I'm passionate about and creative in, no science or English or art. I had a boyfriend, a first kiss, and many other firsts after that, before I realised he was no good for me. I've put on weight now, but I'm happy with my body, and my hair is grey and I like that. I'm not as funny as I once was, and I'm definitely way more of a chav (British slang for a bit of a rough kid), than I used to be. I'm also a terrible writer now. I don't read. I'll start again in summer, I think.

But I thought now was a chance to get back at it. Like I said in my last A/N almost a year ago, these updates will be hella sparodic but I'm trying. I don't know if the original fans are still here, but if you are, know I'm happy now. It's the most beautiful feeling and to all struggling out there, know it just takes one change for it to be perfect. I graduated school, and I'm at college, and I'm happy. The littlest things make all the difference

Always and forever,

Alyssa Edwards– jksjks its SilverCarstairs but if anyone gets the reference we shall be married at dawn.