The Streets: Survive

A/N: Here it is. The Finale. This is one of the most difficult chapters I've ever had to write, and I'm so grateful to each and every one of you, and all of the amazing characters you've given to me. Thank you and enjoy this last chapter of the arena.

~So many lives to still impact

Some still have yet to cross your path

We know that it's a lot to ask

Please learn your worth, and take it back

Take it back~

Lana Birkhead

The streets were flooded with the monsters. Lana was staggering along, going as fast as she could while clutching to her gut, barely holding herself up on her own two feet. There was silence for a while after the announcement, but she wasn't given long to think about it before the creatures started coming out.

There were more of them than Lana had seen before, dozens all chasing after her as her head snapped around the city, looking for somewhere for her to hide. But there was nowhere to go.

Lana slid over the hood of a crashed car, one of the creatures diving against the vehicle behind her as she scrambled over. Another of the creatures was waiting for her on the other side, and Lana pulled the dagger out of her belt, lashing out wildly as she let out a scream.

The blade found itself dug into its head as it ran toward her, and it struggled for a moment, pawing against Lana's face, before dropping to the ground. Lana yanked the knife free and continued along, forcing herself to keep on running.

The entire city was screaming, a screeching sound that came from all around her and let her know there was nowhere she could go that could keep her safe. But she wasn't going to give up. Not that easily. In the distance something flickered across her vision that had promise, and she doubled her pace, even as the bandages around her gut threatened to unravel.

Another of the creatures came rushing toward her, but this time Lana didn't have the energy to fight back. She ducked under its reach, her body shivering in relief as it ran past her. She didn't need to turn around to know it was doubling back, though, and she forced herself to keep on going.

The brick hut seemed out of place in the middle of the crowded streets, but Lana didn't worry about that. She focused on the ladder that led to the roof of the small building. Lana peeled her hands away from her stomach, wincing in pain as she collapsed against the ladder, her hands slick as they clung to the bottom rung.

Footsteps were pounding behind her, though, and she brought a foot up into the air, planting it on the step, shoving herself up. One step at a time she slowly dragged herself up, ignoring the sharp-nailed hand that attempted to grab her ankle as she shook free and hopped up another step.

Her arms took hold of the cement rooftop and she lugged herself the rest of the way, rolling onto the roof as she launched off the ladder and onto the ground with a painful thud. A part of her was tired, and wanted to just stay there on the ground. But she pushed through that desire, her arms wobbling and she pushed herself onto her knees.

She took in a sharp breath as she staggered onto her feet, stumbling for a moment before catching her balance. The place she had found was safe though. She could wait there until the sun was halfway up in the sky, and it would finally be over. The creature was still at the ladder, slashing out at the metal, but not having any idea how to get up. Relief flooded through her system, and she nearly dropped the dagger from her hand.

Then she noticed the girl from Five.

She was on the streets just below the hut Lana had found. Her bow was on the ground beside her, and she was grappling with one of the creatures, its mouth clamping open and shut as it attempted to rip a bite out of the girl's neck as she desperately pushed and kicked it away.

Lana shouldn't have thought twice to let her die. There was no reason to worry about someone else. She was safe where she was, and all she had to do was sit and wait. She would be alive. She would win. That was all that she had been told mattered, wasn't it? Win. At whatever cost. Failure had never been an option.

Lana tightened her grip on her dagger as she leapt off the hut. The dagger was an extension of her as she tackled the creature off of the girl, the two tumbling with each other for a moment as Lana slashed out wildly. The creature struggled for a moment, before the dagger slid its way into its forehead, and it went still.

Lana's breathing was ragged as she shoved the creature's body off of her, holding in the scream she wanted to let out. More than just her stomach screamed in pain now. Her ankle twisted at an unnatural angle, and blood was spilling out of her gut again, beginning to bleed through the bandages and stain them a darker red.

She couldn't bring herself to climb back up to her feet.

The girl from Five stumbled to her feet, picking up her bow and looking down at Lana with wide, confused eyes that were still shining with fear. She hesitated for a moment, then turned and ran, and Lana brought her head down to the cement, her vision already starting to fade as she stared up at the bright blue sky.

Everything hurt, pain stabbing at her from every possible angle, and even breathing was starting to get harder. Shakily, Lana brought a hand to her heart, steadying her breathing as she closed her eyes and let a smile effortlessly slip across her features.

Marquise Clifton

Marquise was frantic as he searched the streets. The infected were all around him, and he had to shove them away as they came closer. They seemed slower than before, and he was able to keep away from the seemingly endless horde, but he wasn't sure for how much longer. There didn't seem to be anywhere to go. They were everywhere.

But Marquise didn't worry for his own safety. He could protect himself, and even if he couldn't that wasn't his prime worry. The sun was nearly in the middle of the sky, and he finally had a simple, easy purpose. The Capitol would want their blood, but if he could just find somebody, he could protect them. For the first time in this arena, he could do something good. Something selfless.

One of the infected, faster than the rest, lurched towards Marquise, sprinting at him rabidly. He pushed back with his staff, then swung out, hitting it over the head. It barely seemed to notice the blow. It came at him again, and Marquise redirected it, throwing it to the ground.

He knew how they worked by now. They could be slowed down, but there was only one way to really stop them. He knew what he would have to do, but he couldn't muster the courage within him. He could still feel the snapping of bone, and see the spurting of blood as he had ended Jamie's life. The thought of doing that again. . . he couldn't bring himself to do it.

So instead he ran. It was chasing after him, but Marquise went as fast as he could, dodging through tipped over cars and phone booths as he weaved through the streets. Infected closed in on him as he rounded every corner, a larger crowd building up behind him, but he kept on running.

He could still find someone. He could save them. He could do the one thing that he had been brought to the arena for. What happened to him after didn't matter. He just needed to do something that made it worthwhile. He was ready to rest. He just couldn't go without knowing that he had done one final good thing, something to balance those scales.

Marquise ducked into an alleyway, and ran into a chain link fence that he deftly climbed over, leaving a horde of dozens of infected crashing against each other, all clawing out at him to no avail. His breath was shallow as he knelt over, and he was suddenly aware of just how much his legs were shaking.

A screeching sound came from just behind him, and he spun around, elbowing outward just as one of the infected lashed out, chomping down on air as its neck was caught with his forearm.

It lashed out wildly, its fingernails slashing at his chest. Marquise shoved it back, and something took over him. He wasn't sure if it was frustration, or fear, or desperation, but when he swung out with the bo-staff, he didn't hold back.

The wood cracked as it connected with the creature's head, snapping into pieces as the thing that looked almost human crumbled lifelessly to the ground.

Marquise's hands were shaking as he dropped the remains of his staff onto the ground. He let in a shaky breath, shaking his head as he turned away from the corpse, stumbling through the other end of the alleyway and out into sunlight that suddenly seemed to blind him.

As soon as he was able to force his eyes open, he saw her.

Lana Birkhead, the girl from District Two that he had played cards with on the last day before the arena, was laying on the ground, her body still and a dead mutt next to her. Marquise stumbled over to her, shaking his head and muttering to himself as he dropped to his knees beside her.

He brought two fingers to her neck, and felt a faint pulse. Her hand was placed over her chest, and it rose slightly, her eyes shut closed as she shook her head, murmuring something nonsensical. Stale bandages wrapped her gut, and blood bled through them, dripping steadily onto the street.

"No, no, no," Marquise said to himself, shaking his head, his voice cracking with vulnerability and raw pain. "Not again. Just hold on, okay? I-I can fix this."

He looked down at the wound, and his hands shook as he ripped off his bag, searching for something that he knew wasn't there, something that could help. Something that could let him do one. Single. Good. Thing.

Marquise dragged a hand down his face, throwing the bag down to the ground as he felt anger swell up inside of him. He had come so far, and for what? Why was the universe keeping him alive? Was it just punishment? For him to have to watch as others more deserving than him died far too soon, while he continued to live? It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. Why couldn't the world just be done with him?

A screeching sound came from beside Marquise, and his head snapped over in response to see three more of the infected creatures. They both spotted Marquise, and the three of them let out screams as they fought each other while running toward him.

Marquise didn't bother looking, bowing his head to the ground. He didn't feel any more fight within him. Why should he fight? He didn't even deserve it. Maybe the most he could do at this point was just let himself be taken. He had tried, and he had failed. Marquise Clifton didn't have anything more that he could do. Maybe if he died than someone else would be more likely to win. Maybe he just didn't want to be the one forced to leave the arena, made to live with even more mistakes that he could never possibly hope to balance out.

The screams got closer, and Marquise took in a steady breath, and closed his eyes.

Vivian Ostera

The message had given them hope. After all they had gone through, now they were suddenly so close. All that they had to do was just survive for a few hours longer. And they didn't have to worry about needing to kill, or having to watch Troy die. They could both survive.

Troy hadn't taken the news with the same relief. He panicked, more than Vivian could ever remember seeing from him. The idea of surviving the Games seemed to fear him more than anything else. That had wiped away any ideas of hope that Vivian had held onto for a few brief moments.

He had grabbed his battle-axe, intent on going out and finding a fight before it was too late. He had wanted them to stay behind, to just wait for the end, for victory. They weren't entirely sure themself why they didn't want that.

Victory was all that they had wanted. Ever since Jormun had taken their trust and torn it to shreds, hurting them, nearly killing them, the idea of winning the Games was all that they were able to cling to. If they could just win, they could prove to themself that they were strong. That they were capable, that they weren't weak.

And for a while, it had worked. Training gave them purpose again, and winning the competition and being selected for the Games made it feel like everything was finally turning around. But when they were with Troy. . . it didn't feel like it mattered anymore. It didn't feel like they needed a crown to prove that they were worth something to him. He cared about them, whether they became a victor or not.

They thought that the Games would give them purpose again, and make them whole. And in a way, it had. But not in the way that they had thought. And now? If they had to sit and watch as Troy died, would a golden crown and a house in victor's village make them feel like themself again? Would that be worth it?

For the first time in so, so long, Vivian trusted in someone. They had almost forgotten what it felt like. How easy life felt when you didn't have to constantly worry about what someone's true intentions were. They didn't want that to end. They weren't ready for it to.

Now they found themselves back at the warehouse that they had started the Games at. Mutts were all around them, banging on the doors and barricaded windows. It was holding, but wouldn't last for long. They had sent an entire horde after the two of them, what must have been at least a hundred in total. They were lucky that they had made it into the warehouse at all.

Vivian was frantic, searching the warehouse for some sort of escape. "There's gotta be a way out of here," Vivian said rapidly, turning over crates and peering through boarded up windows. Troy just stood in the middle of the room, holding tightly to his battle-axe. "Come on! Don't just stand there!"

"Vivian-" he started.

"No," they said, holding up a finger as they stormed over to them, tears already building up in their eyes. "Don't you dare say it. Don't you say that you have to die. You don't. You know that you don't. You can't just leave me."

"I don't want to leave you," Troy said solemnly. "Trust in that. I will not expect you to stand and fight with me now, but please, don't ask me to run. This is what I want."

Vivian rubbed at their eyes angrily, their voice shaking as they asked, "tell me, why do you believe in all this?"

"Because I know that it is true," he said. "With all my heart, I believe it. And when I die," his voice cut off, half a laugh, half a sob that he seemed to be biting back. "I will finally be able to be at peace. I will see them all again, and nightmares of what could have been, or I should have done, will be no more."

A hundred mutts were screaming outside. So why did it suddenly seem so silent? Vivian swallowed a lump in their throat, and built up all the courage they could muster as they nodded their head. "Okay," they said. Their arm screamed in pain, and a small part of their brain with it, but they ignored it, taking hold of their bow. "Together then."

Troy shook his head, placing a hand on their bow. "Let me fight them myself. I'll distract them, you can run. You deserve to win."

"You said you believe in this with all your heart, right?" They asked him.

Slowly but surely, he nodded his head.

"Well," they said, their voice cracking. "I believe in you with all of mine." They yanked the bow back out of his hand and into theirs. "Besides, if I'm gonna die, I'm gonna do it fighting, not running."

Troy nodded his head, and he smiled at them as he placed a hand on their shoulder. Nearby, one of the boarded up windows began to break apart, the wood being pushed aside as the mutts fought to squeeze their way through the gap. "You are a good friend, Vivian Ostera. I'm glad to have met you."

"Yeah," they choked out, returning the smile as best they could. "I'm glad too."

He readied the battle-axe in his hand. "Until we meet again."

Tears stained their cheeks as they readied their bow, nodding rapidly. "Until we meet again."

River

She had seen the end coming for her. It was a stupid mistake. She had come down from her tree to investigate something she had heard, and when she did it had surprised her. The animal was stronger than her, and she couldn't keep it away from her for much longer.

And then the girl had come out of nowhere and saved her. It was the same girl from the forest, the one that had fallen. The one that the boy had come back for. But when the girl was on the ground in pain, River didn't reach out to help her up. She ran.

The voice had come from the sky again, and it had said she had to survive until the sun was in the middle of the sky. It was almost there now, the sun creeping closer to that spot. But something ate away at her.

That girl didn't need to save her. She could have left River to die, but she chose to help instead. Wanderer had told her once that if a person saved you, it's because the gods had plans for you that still had to be finished. But what was she still supposed to do?

Usually, someone only had to listen to their name to know. A person named Protector would spend their life protecting others, a person named Healer would heal. Wanderer said that once a man had saved his life, and he spent the rest of his days searching for the purpose that still waited for him.

He said that he never knew what that purpose was until the day that she had arrived in a basket on The River.

So much had gone into keeping her alive, and here she was, running through a street, ready to go hide up in a tree and wait, not knowing what to do next. Was that why Wanderer had been kept alive, why he had taken care of a girl who was motherless?

River stopped running.

She looked at the path she had come from, the path that she had spent so long running aimlessly through, away from everything that scared her. And River went back.

The wind rushed by her, blowing back her air and whistling in her air. The same way it had running from wolves that were not there. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breath so empty and shallow that it felt like she could be held underwater.

She reached the start, and drew the arrow into her string, firing three shots in rapid succession, as if she were shooting wooden birds being tossed in the air.

The three animals dropped to the ground right in front of the man, his eyes closed as he knelt on the ground, his hand holding onto the girl who had saved her life.

The man's eyes opened, and his head snapped over to her. River's heart beated faster than ever, and she felt the urge to turn and run. To run away from this strangeness and discomfort and closeness. But she forced her feet to carry her further back, all the way to the start.

She brushed past the man, and he didn't say a word as he backed away, letting the girl's hand slip out of his grip. The girl's eyes were closed, her hand over her heart as her chest slowly rose and fell. River dug into her bag, pulling out a wad of the dark green leaves that Wanderer had called Little Miracles.

She had already prepared them for herself in case she needed them, and so she didn't have to waste any time. The bandage on the girl's stomach was soaked through, and River carefully stripped it free.

The man placed a hand on her arm. "What are you doing-"

She brushed him aside. "Help," she answered.

The wound wasn't fresh, but it had reopened, and now blood was flowing from it quickly. The leaves could slow it, but it wouldn't stop. But she would still try. It would work. It had to work.

Somewhere in the distance, two claps of thunder sounded off in quick succession, but River didn't even flinch. She continued on, trying to remember everything that Wanderer had taught her.

It took her a few minutes, but when she stepped back, the bandages were holding tight around the girl's gut, and no more blood was spilling out of her. River felt the girl's pulse, and sent up a prayer.

Let her live. Everything that had kept River alive, this had to be the reason. It was why Wanderer had kept her safe, even at the cost of losing his true family. It was why she had survived, even when the forest had been razed with flames. She wasn't a demon, or a curse. She was daughter of The River, protected and raised by Wanderer, and she was going to do more than just survive. She was going to do good.

Shaky hands brought two fingers to the girl's neck, and River held her breath, waiting for a response, a sign from the gods that she was right. A faint pulse came quietly in reply. River felt like she might cry.

The man sat down beside her, and looked up in the air, his voice breathless as he said, "The sun is in the middle of the sky." His voice sounded empty and hollow, but when he noticed River watching him, he smiled. "We did it."

Trumpets blared.

A/N: What? I lied. Sue me.

I have so much that I want to say about this story and these five tributes, but I'll save most of it for the eulogies to keep it organized and avoid from just rambling. But congratulations to our three victors: Lana Birkhead, River, and Marquise Clifton! And thank you everyone for this incredible cast of characters that made this story soo hard to write sometimes.

4th/5th: Troy Magnison. Killed by mutts. Troy is one of my favorite concept characters I've ever come up with. He's just such an incredible force of wholesomeness and so different from the typical Career. His relationship with Vivian was just incredible, the two fit together like two pieces of a puzzle and seemed inseparable. Obviously Troy was never going to win, but I'm glad I could give him a death worthy of Valhalla. Also this is my verse and so it's officially cannon from now on that Valhalla exists b/c they both deserve it. RIP

4th/5th: Vivian Ostera. Killed by mutts. Vivian was the first character I got for this story, and they've always been one of my absolute favorites. I've already said it but it bears repeating that their relationship with Troy was one of my absolute favorite I've ever gotten the pleasure to write. Writing Vivian's arc as they slowly opened up and allowed themselves to trust entirely in somebody again has been one that I've loved. Vivian was a phenomenal character, and while a part of me wanted them as a victor, this was an ending that I felt was better for who they were and where they were ultimately headed. In the end, they allowed themselves to trust again even when it was so, so difficult, and gained confidence in themself. I'm going to miss this incredible character, and I owe so many thanks to Lauren for sending me them and absolutely breaking my heart every time I got to write them. RIP

Victor: Lana Birkhead. Lana was always supposed to die just before the Final Eight. It had been planned for so, so long, it was probably the very first scene I figured out for the arena. Heck, I even wrote her death scene. Then I finished the chapter, wrote her eulogy, and realized that I didn't want her to die. So I rewrote the whole chapter in one single night just so I could keep Lana alive, and I kept on keeping her alive, all the way to the end. Her slow arc from a lifeless killing machine to someone who has gained independence and autonomy over themself because of the family they found is probably the favorite arc I've ever done, and to throw that all away by having her die and it be for nothing felt dishonest. Lana is such a strong person who's only just starting to discover who she really is, and I wish that this wasn't the last story in my verse so that I had more time with this amazing character. I'm excited to have my heart ripped out of my chest when I get to write her final epilogue chapter, and so glad a certain someone could convince me that her winning could be possible.

Victor: River. I started writing this chapter intending on having River die. And then things just started happening, and before I knew it she was a victor. I don't even know how it happened, but when it came time to kill her I just couldn't do it. She's such a complex and wonderful character that still has so much left to explore, and it feels like her story is only really just starting right now. Her dying didn't feel like it accomplished anything, and felt like such a waste of someone who still had so much left to do. From her intro River has been one of my absolute favorites, and while it was surprising even to me as I wrote it, I'm so glad with where she went in these final few chapters. She deserves some happiness, and I hope she can finally find it.

Victor: Marquise Clifton. Micah, you know I had to be the first to give you a victor. Come on. Marquise was someone who I kind of never really thought of as a victor for the longest time. He was always going to die in a self-sacrifice. . . but that just didn't feel right. It may have made sense, but it didn't feel like that was actually a progression of his arc. This is a person that's slowly coming to realize that he's still got good to give the world, and having him learn that lesson one final time feels like a more natural way to go. While he may not have wanted to win, he's still got good to give to the world. As I was writing his interactions with Hailey at the party, he just leapt out to me as someone who needed to become a victor, and from there he completely changed the idea of what this story was going to be. Without him, this story would have been a bitter and pessimistic ending to a dark universe, but he's brought such a change to this ending. . . which I'll get to more in a bit. But back to Marquise, like the other victors his story is only just now starting. He's one of the most incredible forms I've ever received, and I'm so glad I could give you a victor, Micah, cause you deserve one. Thank you for being such an amazing author, character creator, and supporting me through all my ups and downs, both on this site and in real life. I couldn't ask for a better friend.

So big picture now. Why did I choose to have multiple victors here and not in RM or NA? Well, because I kind of have come to a time where I've realized that sticking to a plan just because it was my original idea is silly. I allowed myself to bend and break apart my original plans for these Games, and it's done wonders for my confidence about this story as a whole. This story was supposed to have 0 victors. That was the idea from the very start, and that's how it was going to be until I eventually stumbled upon the idea of Marquise during those party chapters. And from there I stumbled into tearing apart my planned death scene for Lana, and allowing myself to let River live too. All three of these characters still had stories that haven't finished yet, and they're stories that I want to tell. So while it may be surprising to see from me, I'm keeping all three of these alive because they all aren't done living yet. In the end, this is the story where I finally allowed myself to write what I want to write, and I wanted to carry that through to the very end, because it's just made writing fun again when it hadn't been for a long time.

I seriously can't thank y'all enough for sticking with me. I really never thought I'd make it here at a few points, but y'all's support and love has carried me through and this is probably my favorite story I've ever written now, which is something I never thought I'd be saying just one month ago. This isn't the end of the story, so I'll avoid going completely sap overload for now. But what I will say one more time is that I'm so grateful for y'all, and that I hope you all enjoyed this finale, because I'm really happy with how this story has turned out.

I'll see you all tomorrow with the first epilogue, and congrats one more time to our three victors: Marquise Clifton, River, and Lana Birkhead!