A/N: I am so so so sorry for this late post. Over a year since my last update. College is not fun. It's stressful and confusing and often times you're wondering if you're doing the right thing. Spending time with my extended family this Thanksgiving is making me question everything about my life. That's why I love fanfic because I can just disappear and forget about the world. Thank you for being my escape.

This is long awaited conclusion of Maysilee's Hunger Game but not the end of the AU! I have a few more pieces for Maysilee and Haymitch. I really hope my Hunger Games writer block disappears. Enjoy and please review! Prove to me someone is still reading.

If Only: Collection #8

#25 Kill

Drip. Drip. Drip. Maysilee internalized the methodical sound of her morphine drip with the rest of the dull hums and beeps of the other machines monitoring her condition. People have been disappearing in and out of her room, watching her with weary eyes. All sharp objects were removed from the room or under lock and key. If Maysilee was Maysilee, she would smirk at the thought and roll her azure eyes. But right now, the girl lying in the bed wasn't the same candy shop girl who left District Twelve fifteen days ago. She was trapped within her mind, still in survival mode.

The door slide open soundlessly but Maysilee still tensed. A wild expression crossed her eyes and her fingers unconsciously clenched, trying to curl around the rough hilt of her knife. She relaxed when a young nurse entered, all smiles and clean. "How do you feel today?" She asked, moving through the room with practice ease. "Better I hope. This medicine is the best in the Capital can provide. Your mentor requested we allow you to heal naturally. Though, you came out better than most." Maysilee stared as the nurse continued to speak, watching her mouth move but barely registered the words. "Oh sweetheart…"

That two-syllable endearment was a trigger. That was all Maysilee needed; a tiny push to send her mind back to the Games. To the world, she looked like a healing patient but in her mind, she was reliving every moment like a news reel.

"We need water." Maysilee stated, kicking dirt into their smothering fire and brushing her fingers over her dark pants. Marco glanced up with a weary expression in his emerald eyes. His wound was slowly healing, scabbing over so whenever he moved it hurts. She walked over, grabbing his bottle. The boy's eyes tracked her as she approached, placing her hand gently on his leg. "Hey, promise me you won't die while I'm gone.'

"I'll try, sweetheart." He replied, giving her a small smile despite the pain. She patted his leg before standing up and heading towards the river. This was the first time she was alone, just her and her thoughts. People can go crazy if they're quiet for too long. Maysilee thought, pulling her knife out as she checked the open area around the riverbed. He's keeping me sane.

The water felt cool against her heated fingers as she submerged the bottle. It has been three days since they've teamed up. She could feel the change in her body. She was more rested, receiving an average of four hours of sleep. They ate more, pooling their goods together and gather whatever plants she recognized. She was less twitchy, knowing someone has her back. Maysilee frowned at the last one. She was losing her edge. The mistrust still lingered between them. At night, Maysilee always kept her fingers tightly clenched around her dagger, reassured by the feel of its worn hilt. She knew Marco felt the same, noting that whenever they trade shifts, he always slept with his spear half an arm's length away.

I guess he learned after the first night, she thought, recalling their first night together with troubled expression. She stared at her right hand, the one submerged in the river water. It was steady when she held the dagger underneath Marco's neck. The fear in his emerald eyes struck a chord in Maysilee. She held his life in her hands. Just one little flick, one slip of the hand, and she could have ended his life. The control she felt was intoxicating. Never in her life has she felt anything like that.

Maysilee quickly splashed her face, erasing the feeling. She wiped the excess water out of her face, taking deep calming breaths. No one has the right to control who lives or dies. Though, no one has the right to throw twenty-four children into the arena to a battle to the death either. Maysilee sighed before twisting the cap of the first bottle closed and plunged the second one in. She sat on her heels, allowing her mind to wander to her district partner.

There were, at most, ten tributes still struggling in the Arena, hoping to be the last survivor, the victor. Ryan's young face hasn't appeared in the virtual sky, something she was surprising thankful for. District Twelve still had a chance for a victor this year. She closed her eyes for a half second, allowing the thought to settling in her stomach. She may win. Her eyes tightened at the sound of rocks grinding against other rocks. Her eyes snapped over as she felt something brush her neck.

Maysilee turned around, catching a glimpse of her attacker before he wrapped his long fingers around her slender neck. She kicked and struggled as he pushed her down, trying to drown in her the slow moving river. Water rushed into her mouth before she could close it. She gagged, pushing and shoving as she tried to knock the boy off her. Her fingers wrapped around the metal water bottle and she swung blindly, hoping to connect to something.

"ARG!" The boy shouted as he flinched away. Maysilee smacked him again with the bottle, successfully pushing him off her body and regaining a bit of distance between them. The boy in front of her was all skin and bones, harsh angles with a hollow face. His clothes seemed to hang off of him as he crouched, swing on his feet as he rubbed the side of his neck where she smack him. Her right hand automatically pulled out her dagger as she gazed into the boy's dark sunken eyes. Eyes which would not stop moving, looking around searching for something.

"No. No. No." He chanted as Maysilee gasped for breath. Maysilee recognized him as District Nine's tribute, the unstable one. His fingers twitched wildly like a bug's legs. A drop of blood oozed from the corner of his lips where he was gnawing his lower lip. "You're supposed to be dead!" He screamed before lunging, flailing his arms with no real plan. Maysilee back pedaled, keeping a small amount of distance between them. He made another wild lunge, which she dodged and stepped in closer, bringing her dagger up at his unprotected belly into his internal organs. An unpleasant gasp passed his lips and his limps stopped moving. A weak wheeze escaped his mouth as more blood slipped from his mouth. "Thank you…" he murmured to the unmoved girl as the life left his eyes, coughing once more causing blood to splatter on her face.

"Maysilee!" The girl slowly turned at her ally's voice when he appeared. Marco stood there with his spear clenched in his hands, slowly taking in the image in front of him. A petite blonde with a dead bleeding boy draped over her. He slowly approached, searching their surroundings. Maysilee shoved the body off of her, sitting on her knees with wide blue eyes. Her shirt was stained red. Her hands were shaking uncontrollable. Marco looked at the body, reaching down and pulled the dagger out. Her eyes closed at the sickening sound. "Hey…"

"Don't." Maysilee said, cutting him off. She tried to give him a menacing glare but he could see pass it. Her gaze was shaky. She looked like she was going to cry. Maysilee watched as Marco sat down beside her. "Don't…" He reached around her, pulling her into his chest. Maysilee didn't have the strength to struggle against him. All she did was buried her face into his shoulder and allowed herself to cry as the boom of the cannon rippled through her.

"How is she?" A male voice asked, deep and rough. Maysilee didn't have the strength to open her eyes but her ears still caught the conversation. She was propped up with pillows behind her, sitting upright like a doll.

"She's an easy one. I've seen worse. You were worse." A throaty chuckle answered the woman as the sound of the chair scrapping the floor. "You look tired."

"I am tired…" He paused for a second. Maysilee felt fingers playing with her own. They squeezed her fingers tightly like he needed reassurance only she could provide. She wanted to squeeze back but the next words stopped her. "I saw the boy's body." A heavy sigh escaped the man's mouth, tickling Maysilee's loose hair. "Ryan looks like he's just sleeping." Maysilee's heart squeezed tightly, constricting her chest. Fighting off the memory was futile.

The end was drawing near.

Maysilee could feel it in her bones as she followed Marco towards the Cornucopia. If it was the Feast; they would have had an announcement, wanting to draw as many as them possible. There was no booming voice promising whatever they need to survive. Things were getting harder to find. The water was slowly drying up with only a few pools left. Food, which was abundant before, was scarce. They're herding us. She knew it but clenched her blow gun anyways in frustration. The new weapon was an interesting addition, found in an abandoned pack of a dead tribute. Maysilee pushed the gruesome thought away from her mind and focused at the task at hand.

"Marco…" She said when the tip of the Cornucopia could be seen just over the treetops. They were close, painfully close to the end and this alliance had to end, one way or another. The handsome District Four boy stopped and half turned his head. "Don't turn around." She ordered; her voice surprisingly steady. The boy didn't turn, following her orders and trusting her completely for some unknown reason. It would be easy, a part of Maysilee noted, to just plunge your knife into his back. End it here. Maysilee hated this part of her, the cold calculating survivor. Her fingers itched to grab the knife from its hilt on her leg. A blatant betrayal is better than what you have in store for him. Stop it! Maysilee ordered, shoving that part away and biting her lip. Her hand gently caressed the small of his back, noting a tiny shiver passing through him, before clenching the thin fabric of his shirt and pressing her forehead against his lean back. "We…"

"We should end this alliance." Marco supplied, taking the words out of her mouth. Maysilee nodded her head, knowing he could feel it against his shoulder. A rough false chuckle escaped his mouth, shaking his body. "You know, I was hoping we could just wander this Arena for days, just you and me. Us against the world." Maysilee smiled despite the grim situation. It sounded like a silly happy dream. "But all good things have to come to an end…" He shifted around and Maysilee braced herself, prepared for a stab in the abdomen. The spear hung limply from Marco's right hand as he wrapped his left arm around her shoulder, pulling her tightly against him. She didn't fight, just placed her ear close to his heart, hearing and feeling the thump-thump-thump of his healthy heart. "See ya on the other side." He whispered before pulling away and lightly kissing her forehead.

Maysilee forced herself to watch Marco walk away, clenching the rough material of her pants. Her fingers unconsciously clenched the tiny vial she kept in her pocket, the precious vial Haymitch sent her on the very first day. She pulled it out, looking at the half-full bottle, recalling where she dumped half of its contents into. You're already a murderer. How is one more tally going to change anything? There is already blood on your hands. "There is already blood on my hands…" She whispered, feeling those words marking up her heart. Maysilee pulled out her blowgun, slowly formulating a final plan for one last blood bath.

Distance was her only option. Maysilee reasoned as she pulled herself up onto one of the trees closest to the Cornucopia. She sat there, listening to the silence, the calm before the storm. Before there was some sign of wildlife like birds tweeting or the rustle of the wind against the leaves, but right now, it was dead quiet. She could see the expansion of the shallow lake where things were going to end. The water nearly dried up, leaving only a muddy battleground. She sat there, waiting for the end, to see if she would live or die.

"I'm surprised you've kept me alive for so long." Maysilee stiffened at the sound of Ryan's casual voice. It was worn and scratchy but he was alive. Looking between the leaves, Maysilee could see Ryan's head of dark hair. He was unarmed with his hands held up casually as he walked aimlessly. He seemed nonchalant as he addressed his would-be killer. "Wouldn't it be easier to just kill me now? What are you waiting for?"

"Shut up!" His captor snarled. Maysilee's fingers curled around her blow gun, recognizing the deep voice of Alex, the easily manipulated District Two boy. She could see his messy bronze locks, matted with blood and sweat. He was shirtless, showing off the planes of hard powerful muscles. "Find her." He ordered and Ryan threw his head back, letting a sarcastic laugh escape his lips.

"That's funny, Al." Ryan replied before opening his gray eyes, looking up at her in that exact moment. His lips parted as he recognized Maysilee's dark azure eyes against the mast of dark green. His jaw clenched a move so tiny she would have missed it if she wasn't look at him so intensely. Maysilee tensed, waiting for him to yell out and reveal her position before bolting. Instead, Ryan released his shoulders, like he had already accepted his fate. No. Maysilee thought as Ryan smiled up at her before whipping around and lunging at Alex.

Alex's head snapped back at Ryan's punch but the Career quickly regained his wits, slashing his short sword where Ryan should be. The District Twelve boy dived away, rolled and regained his footing. Maysilee leaned over her branch, trying to get a good shot at Alex but hesitated when the brunette launched himself at her district partner. The blonde girl quickly slid down her tree, hugging the trunk as she hurried down. She turned, blow gun rise up to her lips and blew just as Alex buried his sword into Ryan's gut. The blade pierced straight through Ryan, popping out of the other side bathed in scarlet blood. Maysilee screamed, unable to hold it in as Ryan looked at her over Alex's shoulder. His mouth was open with a tiny o before settling into a smile, like he was glad it had ended.

"Well, well, well," Alex's dark voice cut through the horror of Ryan's death. "If it isn't the Capital's sweetheart." Alex's brown locks were matted with fresh blood. Half of his face was drenched in the crimson substance, turning as his sword slid out of Ryan's limp body making a sickening sound. "Looks like keeping him alive for so long was good after all." Maysilee could feel her heart pounding against her chest, remind her she was alive. Alex's bright blue eyes were menacing as he reached over his shoulder and plucked the dart out of his shoulder like it was a fly. "Cute toy."

"Adorable, isn't it?" Maysilee replied, slowly reaching into her pocket, feeling her vial. Why, Haymitch? Why did you have to buy a slow poison? She wondered before tilting her head to the side like it was a casual conversation. "You'll like this one even better." Maysilee threw her vial at the boy, who quickly slashed it. The bottle split as shards and poison rained down on Alex. She bolted, threw her useless blow gun at him and ran towards the Cornucopia because that's where things have to end. "MARCO!"She screamed without thinking. She could hear Alex's heavy pounding steps as he chase after her. "MARCO!"

Marco turned as the two cannons fired, shaking the Arena and signaling the two deaths. He stood over Xavier's corpse, blood glistening off the tip of his spear. Maysilee ran towards him, not sure if he was going to kill or protect her. Right then, she was sure which one she preferred. Her ally grabbed her arm, pulling Maysilee physically behind him before parrying Alex's attack away with the blunt side of his spear. The two boys grunted as they strained against each other, weapons clashing. Alex snarled his eyes wide but he couldn't see anything. His eyes roamed around blindly. He looked like a monster. Marco pushed him away and the boys started circling each other. Maysilee clenched the side of the Cornucopia. Dagger clenched tightly in her right hand, shaking as she watched. "Lookie, lookie here. The little angel has a knight in shining armor." Alex taunted, adjusting his grip on his sword as he spoke. Marco was quiet as he kept his sea-green eyes focused on the killer. "You know you'll have to kill her. This game isn't going to end with two victors. Let me kill her. We all know you can't."

Alex lowered his sword, intentionally or not, and Marco lunged, his arm pulled back to strike. But his left leg buckled underneath him and Alex didn't hesitate. Maysilee reacted just as quickly, running blindly as the blade slashed Marco's side, the same side he wounded before. Maysilee jumped on Alex's huge back, legs wrapping around his waist as her left hand dug into his shoulder. The boy tried to grab her but Marco stepped in, locking his arms. Alex shouted as Maysilee pulled her arm around his neck, knowing the boy saw the dagger in her hand right before she slashed his neck. Alex's screams turned into gurgles as the blood filled his neck and lungs. Maysilee jumped away, flinched when her left shoulder landed painfully against the ground. She was panting as she watched the boy drown in his own blood.

"Maysilee…" She blinked before quickly jumping up, rushing towards Marco. He was on the ground, blood slowly flowing out of his wound.

"No, no, no." Maysilee repeated frantically, pressing her hands against the wound like she could somehow push the crimson blood back into his body. Marco's hand touched hers and she stopped, looking into his sea-green eyes. He knew. In somewhere within her, she knew as well. This was the end but not the one she wanted. Maysilee wouldn't accept it. "Don't leave me, Marco. You can't leave me." She pleaded like it would change everything. A soft chuckle escaped Marco's mouth as blood continued to flow through the cracks of her fingers, sickening warm.

"May, just one request." She leaned in to listen to his raspy weak voice. "Kiss me." She leaned down, pressing her forehead against his. She granted the dying young man his wish. His lips were cracked but soft. He tasted like copper from the blood but there was something distinctly Marco underneath. Maysilee pressed her lips firmer, feeling the warmth leave her friend. She stayed there until the last ripple of his cannon cut through the air and unmistakable words were spoken.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the winner of the 51st Hunger Games, Maysilee Donner, tribute of District 12!"

Maysilee could feel rough callous fingers gently caressing her cheek, wiping tears away. The girl gradually opened her eyes, looking at the young man beside her. Her heart clenched as she remember who he was. Her fellow District Twelve tribute. Her mentor. Her friend. "Haymitch…" She whispered her voice scratchy from lack of use. Haymitch sat on the edge of her bed, left hand hold hers as the right one gently cupped her face. His fingers played with the soft tresses of her golden locks. There was a sadness and understanding in his gray eyes that just hurts. But there was something else underneath those sad gray eyes; something Maysilee saw in Marco's which brought more tears. Maysilee pulled her knees up and wrapped her around them, sobbing openly. But she squeezed Haymitch's hand tightly, needing him to ground her.