The mutt meat is tough but not that different from snake. It's good enough for me, at least. This thing was a pain to skin, even with all three of us working on it, but food is food, and we don't have enough to be picky.

"Are you still feeling all right?" Juniper clasps her hands together. "That gas must have had some effect..."

Trucy rolls her eyes up to look at the clouds. "Nothing but bruises right now. I didn't get pricked by any of the spikes, though. Maybe the gas had to enter that way to do any damage." She grins at Juniper. "And you wrapped up my wounds really tightly, so that wouldn't have been a problem."

"You could be right..."

I just watch them, my jaw tired from chewing.

"So, no worries, guys." Trucy smiles, turning her head towards me. "I told you I would try as hard as I could to not die, remember?"

I meet her gaze blankly for a second before a few pieces come back to me. It was nighttime, during Trucy's watch... I was trying to figure out what to do about Athena. I may have cried a little. Or maybe that was Trucy? I don't know... I... can't remember when I cried last. Am I even capable of it anymore?

I don't know... I don't know anything... I wish, I wish with all my strength that I hadn't killed Athena. Even if she was a threat, even if not killing her would put my friends' lives in danger. Even if it's outrageously selfish, I... I want to be me again...! I don't want to be a murderer! But I am, and there's no way to go back, and there's nothing I can do about it... No matter what I do from here on out, even if I die for my friends, it will never change the fact that I, Apollo Justice, am a murderer. Never, never, never, never, nevernevernever—

"Hey." There's a hand on my shoulder, and after a minute I'm able to figure out that it's Trucy's. "Are you all right?"

I grip my elbows. "I'm Apollo Justice and I'm fine..."

Is any of that true anymore? I know I'm not fine. But am I even Apollo? What makes me Apollo? My hair spikes? They're gone. My ability to perceive nervous habits? That's gone. My Chords of Steel? I haven't done a workout in weeks. My friends? Almost all of them are gone. My goodness and sense of justice? Well, that's gone. Gone, gone gone. Everything's gone...

Does that mean I'm not Apollo after all? Then... Then what? I don't know who I am. If I'm supposed to be Apollo, but there is no Apollo anymore... Then I have no... "self." I am no one.

"We're both right here, okay?" Juniper sits at my other side. "Tell us if we can help."

You're both here, huh? That must be nice. I wish I was here, too.

"Nothing's bleeding, at least." Trucy shrinks. "We could really use some fresh dressings, though..."

Juniper rubs the sleeve of her jacket between her fingers. "I guess this wouldn't be sanitary enough?"

Trucy shakes her head. "Not unless it's an emergency. Nngh!" Her hand flies to her mouth.

"Trucy?" I start.

She gets out something through gritted teeth, but I can't interpret it.

"It's cramping?" Juniper's eyebrows scrunch together and up.

Trucy nods, eyes squeezed shut as she rubs at her cheek.

"Hmm." With a frown, the 11 opens up Trucy's water bottle for her, but Trucy doesn't reach for it. Instead, she stares at the muddy patch in front of her, her eyebrows scrunched.

"What's wrong?" Juniper sits so close their shoulders touch. Trucy responds with a moan of a mumble that I can't even begin to interpret. Glancing around worriedly, Juniper gives Trucy's jaw a tap but doesn't get a response.

"I guess it's not really hurt?" The 11 leans back, wringing her hands.

I watch for a moment longer as Trucy shudders and blinks a few times. "Can you not open your mouth?" I ask.

She tries one more time and shakes her head.

With a horrified gasp, Juniper tugs on my district partner's chin a little. Trucy makes a sound of protest, and her lips barely part.

"I-I guess you don't need water that urgently..." She coughs as she puts the water bottle lid back on.

Trucy backs herself against a leafy bush to rest, but her jaw stays tightened. No donations arrive, and we don't have anything else we can do as lunchtime comes and goes. Trucy's last piece of apple stays wrapped in the parachute for a few hours before she can finally open her mouth enough to take a few bites. She doesn't have much to say, though—why would she have any more of an idea of what's going on?—and the cramping returns full-force by sunset.

We tell her to get some rest, but if her condition is as painful as it looks, that won't be easy.

Juniper keeps her voice down. "Do you think it's because of the mutt attack?"

I stare at the gaps between the stars. "Wasn't she having a little trouble before then, though?"

"You're right." She swallows. "It could have made it worse, but whatever toxin must have a-already—" cough—"been inside her. Do... Do you think we might be poisoned, too? What if it was the apples?! Ohh, we never should have eaten them...!"

"Who knows?" I let out a breath. "All we can do now is see what happens, right?"

"I... guess so."

By morning, Trucy's arms are wrapped around her stomach as the muscles there spasm. It's at least less constant than her jaw cramping, but it still doesn't look like any fun, despite the odd grin that keeps popping onto her face.

I don't know. I'll sit here and watch. What else am I supposed to do? Beg for donations we won't get? Try to stretch her out? That'll probably just tear her up worse. I don't know. I'm useless. We all are. We're just wandering around dying and not even providing good entertainment. The Capitol must love these Games.

I wonder why they haven't gone ahead and sicked something terrible on us, just to end it. I don't know why they sent a mutt that we could actually handle. Why not tracker jackers or something, so me or maybe even all of us would get stung and start dying off like that?

I guess the Gamemakers didn't want to kill me particularly. I'm the only murderer left, after all. They might still be hoping I'll do something to spice things up. Just like we might still be hoping to eliminate the single victor rule.

I don't know if I'm hoping anymore. I can't even tell. I'm just trying to survive, whatever that's worth. There's nothing else I can do. I don't see why I should try.

Juniper and I start cutting into Trucy's share of mutt meat since she's yet to open her mouth sufficiently. Even if she does, she might not be able to chew it, and having her choke to death wouldn't be so great, either.

It's a few hours past lunchtime the next day, as Trucy's lying down trying to nap, when she gets out a muffled cry of pain louder than the last few. Juniper rushes to her side as I push myself up a little.

My district partner is still on the ground face-up, but her back is arched more than I could probably manage if I were in good health. Her eyes are wide open, and sweat pours down her face.

"Trucy...!" Juniper grips her friend's hand. "It's okay! I'm here! A-Apollo and I are both here...!" She breaks down in a coughing fit, and it takes a good while of breathing from her sunflower before she's in any condition to speak again.

She doesn't, though. Trucy's still in the same cramped position, the muscles in her arms jerking every once in a while as the rest of her remains rigid. Her heels slide a little in the mud, but she can't compensate, and she slips to the side. Juniper keeps her from crashing, but it doesn't stop the arching.

I... feel like I should know that symptom from somewhere...

After a few minutes, Trucy manages to relax a little bit, but she's still stiff, and the small of her back is still held up above the ground.

"Hey, Juniper?"

Flinching, the 11 turns around to face me? "Wh-what?"

I rub a thumb over my other thumbnail. "Do you think it's tetanus?"

"Tetanus? That's... supposed to come from soil, I think." She frowns, hands down in front of her. "B-but surely she would have been vaccinated."

"What do you mean, surely?" I frown. "Are vaccines more common in Eleven or something?"

"I... I don't know..."

"And you said soil? I thought it was from rusted metal." But I guess soil would be a better explanation, even if it doesn't account for the rest of us being safe. She keeps her knives clean, and I don't think she's cut herself on anything else—

I fix my eyes on my sword at her hip.

I wonder. I didn't always clean it properly, so...

I look back at Trucy's face. "I guess it's not important either way."

"Right. We... don't have any real cure no matter what it is... We can't even get her water..." Juniper coughs a few times. "All we can do is stay here by her side, and... and hope."

Although she's hardly relaxed, Trucy at least doesn't go back into that tense, painful arch shape for another day. Her heavy breathing hisses between her clenched teeth as she struggles to hang on.

And then the hissing stutters.

Turning pale, Juniper kneels by her side and listens more closely. "Trucy?!"

I lean forward, the back of my knee throbbing. "What is it?"

"Her—her breathing—!" She collapses into a flurry of coughs, obscuring the sound of Trucy's breath—if there is a sound anymore.

Pressing my palms into the cool dirt, I try to pull myself forward a bit, but all I get is a searing pain down my leg. It's... It's not worth it. Trucy knows her district partner is right here. I don't even think she could see me if I got closer, with her stare locked ahead of her.

Juniper, once her coughing has subsided, wipes some sweat off Trucy's forehead. The 11 looks around, as if she missed a parachute somewhere along the way, as if even medicine would do any good at this point.

And when the cannon fires and I do not cry, I know that Apollo Justice is just as dead as Trucy Enigmar.