There was a moment where the world stood still.

And then James screamed out in anguish, grabbing Alex as her legs buckled. His own limbs fell from under him and James collapsed to the scorched ground, cradling Alex in his arms as a patch of red spread over her shirt. "No, no, no!" he yelled, not daring to take the knife out of her chest, but trying to stop the blood flow all the same. It was difficult when his hands were shaking so much.

But Alex was completely calm. She looked up at James, lifting one hand to cup his cheek, her thumb stroking over his cheekbone. "It's okay," she whispered, unable to make her voice any louder. "J- James, it's okay. You can go home now. It's okay."

She was strangely at peace with everything. Alex was scared, yes, she was terrified of what was going to happen when she closed her eyes for the last time, but there was something else mixed in with the fear. A sort of… contented feeling. James would go home, he would live, she wouldn't have to watch him die.

And she could see Harry again.

And, somehow, that made everything okay.

But it wasn't okay for James. He was sobbing, unable to speak he was crying so hard. "No, you can't die, I won't let you die!" But he knew that he couldn't do anything to stop what was happening. With the force she'd used and the place she'd stabbed herself, it was a wonder that Alex wasn't already dead. James knew that she had minutes, maybe not even that.

And he didn't want to waste those minutes.

He held Alex as closed as he dared, not wanting to move her too much, and rested his forehead against hers. "I love you. I love you so much, I won't forget you, I swear. I won't let anyone forget you." James briefly cast his eyes up at the sky, knowing that all of the cameras would be on them. "I won't let them forget what they've done."

Alex's breathing was getting more and more ragged, and a small whimper of pain came from her. It was getting harder and harder to keep her eyes open. "J- James, I can't…" she winced, trying to pull him back down to her, one hand still on his cheek, the other curling up in his shirt. A few tears had escaped from her brown eyes, the dampness making the flecks of green in them seem to glimmer. "James, please, come closer to me."

Hearing the hurt and strain in Alex's voice sent a jolt of pain through James, and he bent down to her again, pressing a little kiss to her soft lips. "I'm here. I'm here for you." Not that he could do anything for her.

Alex cuddled into James, trying her best to ignore the pain that moving caused her, but unable to stop the little cry that came from her. "I'm tired, James," she mumbled, her words barely audible now. "I want to go to sleep."

The words broke James' heart all over again. He wanted to tell her to stay awake, to keep her eyes open and never let them close. He wanted to beg Alex to stay with him.

But he knew that wasn't fair. She had to be in so much pain, and any longer that she forced herself to stay awake, that pain would only get worse. He couldn't do that to her.

"Y- You can sleep, Alex," James said, his lips touching hers again in another little kiss. "You can go to sleep. I'll keep holding you, I'll protect you. I'll never leave you." His arms tightened around her, his forehead against hers again.

"It's funny, isn't it?" Alex said, managing the tiniest little laugh, although her eyes were still shining with tears. "How far we've come in so little time. I'm glad I met you, James. I'm glad I fell in love with you." And Alex meant it, even if it had led her here.

Despite everything, James echoed the little laugh, and he kissed her again. "I'm glad I fell for you, too," he replied softly, nuzzling her nose gently. "I love you so much, Alex. I love you."

There was a small smile on Alex's face, and she stroked her thumb along James' cheek again, before letting her hand fall back to rest on her stomach, not having the energy to hold it up any longer. "I love you, James," Alex breathed, letting her eyes float closed. Her hand uncurled from James' shirt, as her chest fell, letting out her final breath.

James knew that Alex was dead before he looked at her, before he heard the cannon fire. For a long time after her fingers had let go of his shirt, he stayed hunched over her, still cradling her close to him. Tears dripped down his face, a few of them falling onto Alex's pale skin as James shook with the force of his sobs.

She was dead. She was gone, she was really gone. He was alive, and only because the woman he loved was dead.

The voice of a Gamemaker was heard declaring James the Victor of the Sixty Fifth Hunger Games.

And James was angry. James was so fucking angry. She shouldn't be dead. Alex shouldn't have had to die for him to live, she should have had to die just because the Capitol wanted it.

Just because they wanted a Victor.

All of this was so fucking stupid, and senseless, and unfair. The odds weren't in the favour of any Tribute who entered an Arena, no-one could escape with no scars.

Alex was dead, and James would have to live on without her.

Or… Or would he?

Whether it was the grief, the anger, the hunger, or the dehydration that did it, a plan formed in James' mind. A plan to get back at the Capitol, to force them to pay for what they had done, even if only in a little way. James reached forward, taking the knife out of Alex's chest as smoothly as he could, even though he knew that she couldn't feel any pain anymore.

They wanted a Victor. Well, he was going to take their precious Victor away.

It took a moment, but Alexander Pierced realised what James was about to do. "Put them back in place!" he yelled, snapping the idle Gamemakers out of their thoughts as they'd been watching the Games.

"But, Sir, you said to remove them," Zola began, fiddling with his console.

"Put them back in place!" Pierce hissed, the venomous tone of his voice making it clear what would happen if his order wasn't followed.

The Gamemakers scrabbled to put the suicide prevention protocols back in place, but they were already too late, and Alexander Pierce grunted in worried frustration as the Victor of the Sixty Fifth Hunger Games jabbed the knife into his chest.

The pain was far worse than James had imagined it would be, and he shouted out, grunting as he pulled the knife back out of his chest, and he threw it away from him. He lowered himself to the ground, still holding Alex tight.

And James looked up at the sky, one arm around Alex, his hand tenderly laid on her head where it had settled on his chest. He had a brief moment of realisation, when he thought about the implications of what he'd done.

His sister would have no-one. Oh God, what if they took his defiance out on her? More tears welled in James' eyes, and he let them fall. "I'm sorry, Becca," he mumbled softly, not knowing whether or not the camera would pick it up, or if they'd even broadcast it.

But, as his eyelids got heavy, James found his concern slipping away with his consciousness. He had gotten back at the Capitol. He had gotten some sort of revenge for what they had taken from him.

James had never really believed in any sort of afterlife. But he hoped now that there was one. He hoped he would be with Alex again. He hoped he would see his parents again.

Whether or not it was done on purpose, a final cannon boom sounded as James' eyes closed. As it faded away, there was silence over the Arena. Over the Capitol. Over almost all of Panem. Because this had never happened before.

The Sixty Fifth Hunger Games was over. And, for the first time since they had begun, the Hunger Games ended with no Victor.

They ended with nothing but death.

Before anyone says it, I know that I'm a terrible person :)

This is the end of the story, but, due to (very unexpected) popular demand that there be a happy ending, there will be an alternative ending to this fic published in the next few days.

As always, any and all reviews would be wonderful :) xxx