the fallen / 86 a.d.d
It was never supposed to be her and Daphne in here together. Yes, Petra and her twin both gave it their all in Two's Selection Rumble, but they weren't supposed to be the last two standing.
Petra should've dropped out – fumbled during her last Atonement Day or something, but of course, she was Peacekeepers wouldn't hire her if she failed, but maybe she could've had a different path in life.
Two's sake, there are so many things Petra could've, would've, and should've done, because maybe then she wouldn't be nestling Daphne's nearly-dead body on the ground, the Twelve boy who hurt her in shreds by their side.
(And they're in a library. Of fucking course, they're in a library. Petra remembers the second rebellion when she could hear gunshots and explosions from miles away, but she and Daphne could drown them out when they read books aloud to one another.)
"... it wasn't supposed to… to end like… this," Daphne murmurs. The wound in her chest is beyond Petra's help — she was never supposed to see her sister's ribs sticking out of her chest, the same bones she has in her own body.
Tears dwell in Petra's eyes. "I know it wasn't. I was supposed to protect you. Why couldn't I save you from this?"
"...you tried."
But it wasn't enough. She was once stupid enough to believe that love could conquer the worst evils in the world, but it wasn't fucking enough.
"I love you." It's the only truth that Petra knows. "I love you so much."
"...love you too." Daphne's breathing gets quicker, and Petra knows what's coming next. She's just lucky she can't see her sister's heart underneath all the blood and gore. "...do me a favor, though."
"Yeah?"
"...win," Daphne begs. "... don't care what you do, just win…"
She doesn't need to tell Petra twice. When Daphne takes her final breath and a canon fires, a crimson mist creeps into the corners of Petra's eyes.
She knows exactly what she needs to do. Paint this entire arena red, even if it won't bring back her sister.
Maybe it'll be enough.