Today was the last day of the Games. Johanna could feel it.

The air was quiet and hot. She shifted, trying unsuccessfully to get comfortable. Her lip lifted in irritation as she escaped the branch jabbing into her shoulder blade, only to have another immediately replace it in her ribs. She leaned forward against her legs, blowing air slowly from her nostrils. Her back ached in protest. She hadn't hidden in a thicket of bushes for the cozy accommodations, though, and this certainly wasn't the worst place she'd been in the last two and a half weeks. Her leg throbbed. She pulled back the top layer of the bandage. The deep maroon stain was starting to show through the wadded cloth.

Stupid fucking Career.

They had taken each other by surprise. Johanna had been sprinting hard after the squirrely boy from 8. He was quick, darting through the trees just ahead of her. He was tiring, though, and the distance between them was growing shorter and shorter. Johanna prepared her ax, lifting it to strike as soon as she was within arm's reach. But then, without warning, the boy had stopped dead, a length of steel protruding from his back. Johanna nearly impaled herself but pulled up short a few inches before collision, looking in shock from the standing corpse to his killer. The Career holding the sword looked equally as stunned by Johanna, clearly not expecting a second arrival.

The surprise lasted only an instant. Then the Career ripped the sword from the boy's body. Johanna swung hard with her ax, slashing deep across the Career's right shoulder. He howled, swinging wildly. Johanna dodged, but his flailing weapon caught her on the thigh. She hissed, falling back, her back slamming hard against a tree. The Career advanced, swinging the sword clumsily with his left arm. She ducked. The sword connected hard with the tree, sticking in the bark. He tugged at the weapon, and the moment's distraction was all she needed to bury her ax in the underside of his chin.

The action of the battle must have pleased some wealthy Capitol citizens, because not long after she had tied her shirt around the wound to stop the bleeding, the gentle ting ting of an incoming parachute reached her ears. Inside the package was a roll of white bandaging gauze and some jerked meat and water. Though grateful for the gift, she rolled her eyes internally - nothing else, no medication or any sort of salve to stop the bleeding, had been included. No doubt her sponsors were growing impatient, and they knew that an effective but temporary fix for this injury would drive her to finish the games sooner rather than later.

Still, she knew that she couldn't finish all the remaining Tributes on her own, not in this state. She moved as far away as she could from where the Career and District 8 boy had died; no doubt the remaining tributes had seen the hovercrafts remove the bodies, and she didn't want to be around when they came to investigate. Three more cannons went off while she hid. That night, she mentally checked off the faces that shone in the sky - by her count, the only tribute left was the girl from District 4.

Johanna didn't remember much about her. She had kept to herself during pre-Game training and hadn't gotten a very high score at the final evaluation. But if she was nearly the last one standing, no doubt she had some tricks up her sleeve that she had hidden while in the Capitol. Johanna allowed herself a small smile; it seemed that she wasn't the only one who had played the weakness card.

Johanna could feel the eyes of the Capitol on her, hungry for the death match between the final tributes. She knew it wouldn't be much longer before the Gamemaker played his ace and forced the two remaining tributes together. She had seen it happen many times in previous Games. A lull would develop when there were only two or three tributes left standing. If they didn't have the initiative to kill each other on their own, hell would be unleashed.

One year it had been a cloud of flies. They had had some sort of genetic enhancement that made them ravenous for flesh. The Victor that year was crowned because he hadn't died as quickly as the other tributes who had vanished screaming under the buzzing black mass. The Capitol citizens had not been happy with that outcome. It was much too uneventful, not to mention the fact that their Victor wasn't presentable for the Victory Tour for several long months after the Games were over. The Gamemaker responsible had shortly been replaced.

While no one was going to repeat that particular stunt, Johanna didn't feel like waiting around to see what else they had in store for her.

Let's get this over with.

Using the haft of her axe as leverage, she pushed slowly to her feet. She hissed as the numbness rippled down her legs like fire. Taking a moment to straighten, she stretched her arms over her head until her whole frame trembled. She released the stretch and a heavy breath with it, feeling her muscles loosen from their prolonged stiffness. Holding her hand over her bandaged leg to protect it from the grabbing branches, she pushed her way out of the thicket.

She made her way slowly, limping as she went, her head on a constant swivel, her muscles wound to attack at the slightest provocation. She had no way of knowing where the District 4 girl was now, but she found herself heading towards the lake at the center of the arena. While it was unlikely that the girl would take up hiding somewhere so painfully obvious, Johanna didn't know where else to go. More likely than not, when the Gamemaker stepped in to make things more interesting, he'd drive them toward the water. Johanna would be there waiting, ax in hand.

A twig snapped up ahead. Johanna froze, pulse and adrenaline launching into overdrive. She shifted her weight onto her uninjured leg. Her eyes darted furiously, trying to find the source of the noise. A low snarl, borne of fear and raw nerves, slid from between her teeth. There was a sudden burst of rustling in the tree branches to her right. She turned sharply, her arm swinging back to hurl her axe. As the weapon left her fingers, a net exploded from the thick foliage, knocking the axe off course and enveloping Johanna.

It was heavy, throwing her off balance and slamming her hard against the ground. A sharp scream reached her ears. It took her half a second to realize that the sound had ripped from her own throat as she landed almost directly on her wound. She fought against the thick ropes, only managing to tangle herself further as she struggled to escape. She felt sharp pains in her arms and face, and she knew there were probably thorns of some kind woven into the ropes. The net closed tighter and tighter around her the more she fought.

There was more rustling in the tree above her, and the District 4 girl landed with a thud from where she had been hidden. In one fist was a makeshift spear, a long stick with a knife strapped to the end. The other fist held a rope that looped around a branch and dropped down again to act as the drawstring for the net.

Johanna screamed at her captor, rage stripping her throat raw, still trying desperately to escape.

"Don't fight," the girl said quietly when the sound trailed away. When Johanna ignored the advice, she pulled the rope. Johanna yelped as the net closed tighter, the pricks piercing her skin. She snarled wolfishly at the girl, but lay still.

The District 4 girl was small. She was young, probably not more than fifteen years old. She looked like hell. Her tanned skin was scratched and bruised everywhere; what looked like teeth marks made an ugly red mark on her left shoulder. Her sun-bleached hair was dirty and ratted. A long cut ran from the underside of her ear, crossed her eyebrow, and ended at her hairline. She looked sadly down at Johanna with deep blue eyes.

"What are you waiting for?" Johanna said harshly. "Kill me, already."

The girl didn't reply. She rested her spear against the trunk of a tree and took a few steps forward, bending down and picking up Johanna's axe from where it had gotten tangled in the net. Johanna jerked impulsively, her fingers itching for the weapon. The girl started, stepping back, her grip tightening on the axe.

"Are you armed?" she asked.

"Not anymore."

The girl nodded. She crouched at the base of the tree, resting her back against the trunk. Johanna stared, dumbfounded. What was she doing? Was she going to torture her? Toy with her before she killed her?

"It's Johanna, right?" The girl's voice interrupted her thoughts.

Johanna's jaw was open, working soundlessly in enraged confusion. Finally she found her tongue and let rip with the first thing that came to mind: "What the fuck -"

The girl cut her off, "You might as well answer the question. I mean––" She gestured to Johanna's netted body. "––you're not exactly going anywhere."

Johanna bared her teeth, "Yes, my name is Johanna. What's yours?" Her voice dripped with acid sarcasm.

"Elleni," the girl said simply.

"Alright," Johanna said slowly, fury fueling her deliberation, "Elleni. Would you be a dear and get on with this? If you're not sure how to kill someone with an ax, let me out of this net and I'd be more than happy to demonstrate."

Elleni laughed, and the sound was one of genuine amusement. Johanna felt it like a slap in the face. She hadn't heard laughter like that since she was home, since well before all this had started. Since she had seen Rowan. Her gut curled in sudden sickness, and coldness washed over her.

Rowan.

She had forgotten her. All at once, everything rushed in - the sound of her voice, the color of her eyes when she laughed, the musk of her skin after a day immersed in the forest. Her small, calloused hands, their size belying their strength. The scars that kissed their way across her body - the small puckered ones memories of steel ax tips and splinters, the one that curved across the ribs on her right side a reminder of when she had nearly died for Johanna. Her Rowan, the whole reason she had torn through the bodies and lives of children without hesitation, with savagery untempered by remorse or rational emotion. And Johanna had forgotten.

"Why are you here?" Elleni asked, sliding her fingers down the haft of the ax, clearly dismissing Johanna's threat.

"What?" Johanna said, startled to find tears in her eyes after her reverie.

"Why are you here?" she repeated, looking over at Johanna. "Why have you survived? What have you been fighting for?"

Johanna struggled for words, blinking, her head shaking. "S-someone."

Elleni nodded as though it was the most clearly articulated answer anyone had given her.

"I don't have anyone waiting for me," she said in a quiet, matter-of-fact voice. She turned her gaze back to the ax, her fingers running softly along the head. She inhaled deeply, her chest shuddering, and tilted her head back to rest on the tree trunk.

"My dad died a year ago on a fishing trip. Drowned. He was the strongest swimmer I knew. He taught me to swim. A few months after the funeral, my mom gave birth to my brother, and then she died. They said it was from complications, but I think she didn't want to live without my dad anymore. My brother got sick and there was nothing anyone could do. I held him at night and he cried and cried and cried. He died, too."

Johanna was silent, watching Elleni. Her voice was level, almost impassive, but tears streamed down her cheeks, running into her hair and down her neck.

"And then," she said, a humorless bark of laughter in the word, "Althea Elphinstone called my name at the Reaping. And I thought, I'll do it for my family. And I'll do it for my District. I'll win the Games and I'll be a hero. But Johanna––" She turned her tear-stained face towards her captive, "I'll be so lonely. My District will love me, and I'll never want for money or food again, but I'll be completely alone."

She shook her head, gazing vacantly into the trees, "Johanna, you have a someone. Even if it's just one, you have them. They've been waiting for you and you've been fighting for them. That's important."

She fell silent, holding the ax nearly against her chest, her fingers tapping absently along the haft. Her gaze was unfocused as she stared into the trees for a long moment before turning to look again at Johanna. She seemed to be studying her face, trying to read the expressions there, as if revealing their meanings would bring clarity to a complicated problem. Johanna felt raw, exposed to her core. She was struggling not to tremble, not to let her sudden vulnerability show.

She had managed not to feel for the entirety of the Games, to push aside emotion and cognitive reaction for the sake of slaughtering her opponents and thereby achieving victory. And now this girl, who had her trapped and in pain, was evoking sympathy from her. She felt for Elleni, and she hated it. Hated it because with this sympathy came a fear of what the girl was going to say next.

"I want you to send me home," the blonde girl said. Her words were simple enough, but her eyes were heavy with sadness.

"What... you want me to just kill myself and send you -"

"Not to District 4," Elleni cut her off. "Home." Johanna saw the look of determination and fear in her eyes and suddenly understood.

Elleni rose and approached Johanna, ax in hand. Johanna's gut tightened instinctively, her muscles bracing for attack. But Elleni knelt near her feet and in a few skillful movements had cut away a few large sections of rope. The rest of the net unraveled easily. Johanna pushed the heaps of rope off her, wincing at the bite of the thorns. Elleni stood, then held out her free hand to Johanna. After a moment of hesitation, Johanna took the offer, gripping the girl's forearm to pull herself to her feet. Elleni was surprisingly strong for her size; she didn't flinch or stumble as she lifted Johanna's near dead-weight from the ground.

Johanna limped a few steps, trying to keep her balance as her leg vehemently protested. Elleni held out the haft of the ax, her face calm. Johanna took the weapon without thinking. Her heart began to race. She knew how to kill when adrenaline was ripping through her veins and keeping her morality safely at bay. But this – deliberately murdering a person, a young, vulnerable human - she didn't know if she could do it. At the same time, something inside of her scoffed at her hesitation; mere minutes ago, she would have gladly hacked the girl's head from her shoulders to claim victory, and now the thought of ending her life curled her gut into knots.

She shifted her grip on the ax, swallowing hard.

"Come on." Elleni nodded, tears in her eyes. "Let's go home."

Johanna repositioned her stance. Her knees were shaking, her palms sweaty. She felt short of breath, racked by the violence of her internal struggle.

Just kill her. Kill her and be done with it, a voice in her head screamed.

She bared her teeth, a frustrated snarl ripping from her throat. Still her arms remained limp, unresponsive to the roaring in her mind.

"Johanna," Elleni said. Her voice was soft, but there was a hint of warning. She must have thought of the Game Maker's potential retribution as well. "Do it. Now."

Johanna's teeth were clenched so tightly her head was starting to ache. She stared into the trees beyond Elleni, her throat painfully tight. Her breath came hard and fast through her nostrils. She commanded her arm to move, to throw the weapon the way she had in the forest back home so many times. But still nothing happened.

"For your someone," Elleni said abruptly. Johanna's eyes snapped back to the girl's face, startled. For a split second, the Tribute from District 4 wore an expression of immense sadness mixed with resolve. Then she lunged with a fierce cry. Johanna swung without hesitation, reacting on instinct. The diamond-edged blade slammed between Elleni's ribs. A sound of pain erupted between them, but it didn't come from Elleni's throat. Blood flowed like water.

Elleni's momentum carried her forward and their bodies collided. Johanna tried catching her weight, but her leg gave way. She stumbled back against a tree and slid to the ground, the girl's body like a hundred thousand bricks in her arms. She looked down at the Tribute from District 4, trying to ignore the black ax buried deep in her ribs.

Elleni's eyes were not yet blank as she looked back at Johanna, blood gurgling in her lungs. She choked, her body convulsing. Johanna couldn't be sure through her tears, but she thought she saw a smile ghost across the girl's lips. Then her eyes grew distant and a sigh escaped her throat and there was the sound of a cannon.

The hovercraft appeared minutes later to find the District 7 Victor clutching the dead fisherman's daughter tightly in her arms. She didn't look up as the claw came down, nor did she release the body when the voice from the craft's loudspeakers instructed her to do so. When the claw finally brought them both into the hovercraft, Johanna Mason refused to release the body of Elleni Herrick, snarling like a cornered wolf at the orderlies who tried to loosen her grasp. It took three darts to sedate her. She screamed like a wild beast, but as she began to fade from consciousness, she wept and held the blonde girl's body with every ounce of her weakening strength.

She whispered something in the dead girl's ear, but no one heard the words, and when Johanna woke she had forgotten what she had said to the girl whose death brought her victory in Panem's 70th Hunger Games.

A/N: Thanks for reading! This is my first fan fiction and I'm so excited/nervous to be sharing it but I hope you enjoy it! A million, million thanks to androidilenya for being the most amazing beta reader ever. Please read, review and follow. I'm always open for critiques and I love getting feedback about my work. I'll be posting more chapters shortly!