Editor's Notes: Welcome, fellow authors, fans, and lurkers to the third and final installment to our collaborative work. In The End, You Always Kneel and the beginning of When Blood Calls For Blood were the results of Nickenny's huge collaborative Marvel/Hunger Games crossover event based on a 24 authors/24 tributes writing arrangement between oh, so many talented writers and his subsequent work finding DC writers for the second installment, When Blood Calls For Blood, which added our DC characters for an exciting Quarter Quell after the reveal at the end of ITEYAK that the universes were connected.

Nickenny has since had to bow out, so the story has been subsequently piloted and navigated by robbiepoo2341 and Canucklehead Cowgirl - who will both be reprising their writing and their navigation in this new and final installment of this trilogy.

In that vein, we'd like to jump right in! Go catch up with the other two stories if you haven't yet, as both of those installments have plots, characters, and loose story threads all to be tied up in this concluding work!

In lieu of what has become the 'traditional' Capitol-driven intro, since the Capitol is kaput, we'd like to bring you directly into where it really matters. On the ground. In the thick of our post-revolution world. And who better to show us the major impact that the assassination of Thanos has had on the outer districts than someone intimately familiar with working outside of those confines?

And since this is a collaborative work, what better way to start out than with viewpoints from both Marvel and DC? So, we're bringing you a peek at District Twelve with one of our original 24 authors, robbiepoo2341, as well as one of our newer DC authors in pekuxumi.

Expect different things from this final installment of the series - including many chapters that involve more than one viewpoint. It's highly recommended that you read the first two Installments before starting this one. They are easy to find - right there on The Freelancer Collaborations's profile - and it will keep you from being lost on how these very different worlds have meshed. Our update schedule will run (initially) as it did for WBCFB - updating on Tuesdays and Fridays, though we may pick up speed as the story comes to a close and our writers are done with everything but editing ;)

Without any further ado… let's do this thing!

Chapter One - Ground Level

America Chavez

District Twelve, SHIELD Compound

Written by robbiepoo2341

When the revolution had kicked off, America had to admit, she hadn't actually noticed it.

See, the problem with announcing the revolution over broadcast was that SHIELD assumed that everyone would be glued to the TV watching the slaughter. And while, technically, everyone in Marvel was supposed to watch the Games… America had better things to do.

More specifically, she had Capitol idiots to run out of her district.

Don't think she hadn't noticed the Capitol forces massing out beyond the borders of the district itself. That was her turf — that was where she and her crew had always gone hunting or even just slipped out to get away from the misery of Twelve for a while. She knew every inch of that forest, and she had known as soon as the first transports started to arrive a few days ago.

At first, America had only kept an eye on them from passing curiosity. More of a "what is the Capitol doing now" kind of standpoint. But when it became clear that people were moving in, that there were SHIELD agents deciding to make her crew's turf their home? America knew she needed to step in.

So, she had been watching the place for a while now as more and more people arrived, though she hadn't had the context for it until Nate sent Tommy to track her down and tell her what had been broadcast, what Nick Fury had done, what call to arms was being blasted over the airwaves.

And that gave the black-clad operatives pouring into the Savage Lands a whole new context.

Now, instead of wondering what the heck the Capitol was doing in Twelve, America was feeling actually pretty smug. Obviously, the Capitol and SHIELD thought that they could hide out here and cause mayhem, fight their war for domination and remain untouched outside the smallest district in Marvel.

No one cared about Twelve, right? So why would they look for an army here?

But the thing that the Capitol clearly hadn't counted on was that America and her crew? They operated under the same assumptions. No one looked too closely at Twelve. No one paid attention to what they were up to. No one, that is, except the people that America and her boys screwed with. Sentinels, corrupt merchants — whoever needed an attitude adjustment, they got it.

These Capitol creeps wouldn't be any different. The real trick would be getting close enough to start causing problems and still get away in a blink like America's group always did.

Which was why America was camped out where she was, watching the SHIELD agents go in and out through narrowed eyes. These were the same people who orchestrated the Games, and they expected the rest of the districts to just fall in line? Sure, Thanos was gone now, but America wasn't about to line up behind the next tyrant, either. She'd much rather fight to be left alone.

She was still watching one of the exits — she rotated which ones periodically, and the rest of her team was in the rotation, too — when she saw a couple black-clad figures headed out and switched her focus to them.

Might as well see what kind of mischief they were hoping to get up to so she could properly gloat when she ruined it for them, after all.

She crept closer, perfectly quiet in the forest that was more familiar to her than anywhere within the district proper, then paused when she realized… she recognized one of the people.

The last time she had seen Logan had been at his victory tour, when she had tried to give him the best nonverbal cue that she could that she didn't believe the crap the Capitol was peddling about him and Kate. That she knew her best friend better than that. That at least as far as she was concerned, she wasn't going to let them tarnish her best friend's memory or his reputation.

And now here he was at this SHIELD base...

America frowned. It hadn't occurred to her to wonder what SHIELD had done with the victors or the girls that had been at the end of the Games, because she hadn't cared — until one of them was in front of her, that is. And then she realized that the victors had been trapped in the Capitol when it had all gone down.

She wondered how many other victors the Capitol had locked away in there.

Before she had even fully made the decision, her feet were already moving, and she made her way down to where Logan was talking with someone else who had his back to her. Tall and skinny and blonde—

Wait.

America knew that face. That idiot with a heart that was too soft for the Games that Kate had teamed up with last year.

That was impossible, wasn't it?

All at once, America abandoned any attempt at being sneaky and simply crashed through the last few steps to announce her presence with a loud, "What the hell?"

Logan turned her way and paused. "No one's supposed to be down here," he said, stopping what he was doing and almost blocking what he was working on.

"Funny how that works," America said dryly. "When did they move you down here?"

"Ah … not too long ago," he admitted.

"No duh," America said. "I know they've been prepping this site for ages, and you were in the Capitol until recently. I want to know when they took the victors out and how many I need to rescue. We only have so much space, y'know."

"The ones that wanted out got out with us," Logan said. "No rescue needed."

America folded her arms across her chest. "Uh-huh," she said before she spun on her heel toward Clint. "And what's up with you? What, you want to look like a dead guy? You his brother? Please tell me you're his brother, or I'm going to have to rearrange all that plastic surgery."

Clint held up his hands quickly. "Hey, no rearranging," he said, then glanced toward Logan. "It's … okay, so it's a long story. Mostly involving me not being dead, thanks." He waved with the tips of his fingers. "Clint Barton. And you are?"

"The Queen of Sheba." America raised an eyebrow at him. "No, really. Who are you?"

"Clint Barton," he said, then smirked and bowed at the waist. "Your Majesty."

"Shut up." America looked between the two of them before finally she gestured at Clint and looked to Logan. "Okay. I give up. What the hell?"

"I was gonna ask you the same thing."

"These are my woods, Seven," America said.

Logan let his shoulders drop. "The name's Logan."

"America Chavez," she said. "Saw you at the tour, but it's nice to be properly introduced, yeah?"

He nodded and stepped forward to offer her his hand. "Wasn't my idea to come and screw up your woods."

That finally had her smirking as she shook his hand. "So, what's the story here? You moving in with a legion of people wearing the faces of the dead? What's that supposed to be, psychological warfare? Capitol mutts?"

He narrowed his eyes for a moment at that, thinking over the right way to answer. "More like back from the dead."

America held his gaze for a good, long time, and when it was abundantly clear that he wasn't lying, she swore as she turned back to Clint, who grinned and waved again. "No way," she said at last.

"If you keep an eye on the broadcasts, it'll all be crystal clear over the next few weeks."

"Don't watch 'em," America said, waving a hand. "I don't want the Capitol-edited story."

"Neither do I," Logan said. "Unedited stuff is going out now."

America let out a breath and then looked Clint over. "Okay, but please tell me they brought back more than my best friend's idiot Games partner."

"Hurtful," Clint said.

"They brought quite a few back," Logan said slowly. He turned to look at Clint for a moment. "Not sure who all is back, all things considered."

"Anyone from Twelve?" America asked carefully. "I know we're the boondocks, but come on."

"Yeah, a few," Logan said. "If you want into the rebellion, it won't be long before they're in the middle with everyone."

"Pretty words, chico — now where's Kate?" America asked. "I'm gonna kiss her full on the mouth and then slap her for making me wait around while she's been alive."

"Cassie's inside," he said, trying to reroute her.

America grinned. "No way," she said. "That's perfect! I thought she might be too young and sweet for anyone to take notice…"

"She was the youngest until last year."

"Great!" America clapped her hands together and then rubbed them. "So, Cassie's here, Kate's… what, wrapped up in her beau? They were sickly in the Games, I swear."

Logan shook his head at that. "Kate's not here."

"Yeah, but they brought her back, right?" America said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder to indicate Clint. "If they brought him back—"

"Hey." Clint shook his head. "What have you got against me?"

"Just the fact that you're a shoddy replacement for my best friend," America said easily.

"SHIELD didn't bring her back," Logan said, which got America to stop fully and turn his way. "But we're gonna get her back from the guys that did."

"Wait." America held her hands up in a time-out signal. "Run that by me again."

"You heard me fine," Logan said. "You really should listen to the news, Chavez. You might learn somethin'."

"I'd rather keep my district fed," America said. "Priorities."

"That shouldn't be as much of a problem," Logan said. "Nine and Eleven are sending resources. Workin' on Ten."

America's eyebrows rose at that, and she smirked lightly. "Great. Frees me up to help you boys," she said, gesturing between them. "No one knows Kate better than me, and if she's in trouble, I want in."

"No offense, but we're going after trained assassins," Logan said.

"No offense, but I wasn't asking permission."

Logan let out a breath, trying to keep his temper in check. "I promised Black Bolt I wasn't gonna draw off his district any more than was necessary."

"Well isn't that nice for you. He's not my boss. Let's go," America said, and Clint was snickering by that point, clearly entertained.

Logan grabbed her arm as she passed and pulled her to a stop. "You're not going anywhere without the right gear if you're gonna be pigheaded about it."

"Fine," she said, her chin tipped up. "What, you want me to wear blue?"

"Black," Logan countered. "And some armor. Barton can show you where the good stuff is."

America turned to face Clint and stick her finger in his face. "I don't do dress-up. Or outfits. Fair warning."

"Nothing like that," Clint promised. "Just giving ourselves a little more defense. The bad guys have guns, Chavez. And I've been told I'm not getting brought back from the dead anymore, so…"

America watched Clint for a long moment before she finally, slowly, nodded. "Alright. Show me what you got." She paused. "The gear. Or any cute girls you have… I've been a little light on eye candy lately…"

"Give her the non-lethal gun," Logan called out as he set up his gear.

"What?" America called back. "Worried I'll shoot you?"

"I wanna interrogate anyone we get a hold of," Logan replied without turning her way.

"Oh, fine, but if anyone's hurt Kate, I'll find a way to kill them anyway — after they sing," she promised.

"Take a number," Logan said dryly.

"Known her longer. I get top spot."

"She shot me. I'm takin' it anyhow," he countered.

But that had America freezing before she spun to face him fully. "You're gonna have to explain that a little better, chico, before I decide to follow her lead."

"What do you need to know?" Logan asked, leaning on the table that had the gear laid out on it. "She killed Fury, then she shot me." He tapped his shoulder where the arrow had actually pierced the armor.

"Fury ran the Games," America pointed out. "You… you were an ally. That doesn't make sense."

"That's what I've been saying," Clint said. "Along with just about everyone that knew her."

"There's a few that didn't come back right in the head," Logan said. "And a few that got on the wrong side of Fury's daughter. I think Kate might be one of them that Fury didn't have access to."

America nodded slowly and then turned to Clint. "So you're pawns, then," she said.

"You know, I'm starting to wonder how Katie had such a mean best friend," Clint said, shaking his head at her. Then, he paused. "But… it's not… an entirely … yeah, you're pretty spot-on."

"Not anymore," Logan said. "Structure's changed."

"For the better," Clint promised before America could argue. "New director actually listens to us." He tipped his head toward Logan, and America's head dipped forward as she stared at him.

"You took over for Fury?" she asked. "Why?"

"Fury gave it to me," Logan said. "Barely got through it before he kicked it."

"Huh." America considered Logan for a long time before she went back to the gear. "Alright. Kate liked you, so I'll give you the benefit of the doubt for now."

"Not at the end she didn't," Logan said, not wanting to hide anything.

America waved her hand. "Yeah, when she thought you were a raving, murdering back-stabber. Doesn't count," she said. "But if she's still stuck on killing you when we get her back, I'll talk to her. Can't let her be that wrong, or she'll never forgive herself."

"Somehow, I doubt your little slumber party'll be enough to sway her," Logan said. "And I don't care if she hates me. It's fine."

"Heartless," America said as she shook out her hair. "Too bad. I thought your team was great for her. The whole group." She stretched out her arms, knuckles cracking. "We'll talk about that when we get back, though. Time's wasting. Let's go."

"Waiting on you to get your gear together," Logan said.

When America looked like she might say something else, Clint took her arm. "C'mon. I'll show you where you can change before you two start a civil war in Twelve," he said.

America narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, but she let him lead her down anyway. But only because she didn't actually know where to go.

Harper Row

District Twelve, SHIELD Compound

Written by pekuxumi

The discrepancy between mind and body after dying was a pain in the ass. As Harper walked through the corridors, halfheartedly hoping that she was heading in the right direction, she suppressed the need to limp. Her leg was fine. She wasn't in pain. But her brain kept showing her the weird image of an axe splitting her shin and of blood oozing out of the wound.

More than once, she had pulled up her pants leg and checked for a wound or a scar or at least some sort of mark, but there was nothing but the nagging feeling that those last difficult and painful steps she had taken in the arena back then were final.

Sometimes, when she swallowed, she tasted blood and panicked when her breath hitched in her throat. But that was all in her imagination as well, a symptom of post-traumatic stress disorder, or, as she preferred to call it, the very normal reaction to being slaughtered for no good reason and waking up just to be part of a revolution.

Not that Harper wanted to complain. Being alive was nice, though scary, and the prospect of shaping the future of Marvel was a fine goal. Harper just wished that SHIELD had found a way to do it with less traumatized children like Harper, who didn't know whether seeing Raven at the end of a corridor was her bad conscience acting up or reality.

And now she was set up to help the communications team, a bunch of techies tasked with telling Marvel what was real or not, what had been faked and what had not. The irony was just up her alley.

They had started with the really big revelations, the stories that the Capitol had twisted over the course of the Games in previous years. The one that still gave her nightmares was the tape that the Capitol had sent to Logan, the one that Sabretooth recorded detailing everything he had done to his female tributes and promising to do the same to Kate Bishop. The Capitol had been turning a blind eye to rape and sadism, and SHIELD wanted the world to know what exactly they were fighting back against.

And then, to add to the nightmare fuel, Bobbi Morse clinically detailing what was expected of the victors that did survive was enough to give anyone bad dreams.

If raping teenagers wasn't enough to stir up revolutionary anger, then a clear and precise account of how well the Capitol lied about their "random" tribute picks would wake them up to the danger their own children had been in at any moment.

In her head, Harper was going through her text. They were about to film her as she told her story, did her part to reveal the story of the Games. She was going to tell all the districts how the glorious Quarter Quell tributes had been picked.

All the randomness had been a lie up until the Quarter Quells — the Capitol had always chosen the tributes they saw as potential threats. Harper was about to give a detailed account of how choosing Ororo Munroe was far from random ... and Loki, and Cassie Lang... And then Harper would make the cut to her Games, to the tributes who had been thrown into the arena with her. Jack and Harley? Too much beyond the Capitol's control; throw them in. Diana and Kaldur? Let's decimate all the powerful families in Four. Dick and Helena? Well, there can't be a rich, powerful family in Seven without heirs, right?

As she thought about it, Harper got mad all over again.

But SHIELD promised another approach, full disclosure. Harper, who would rather shoot off her mouth than keep secrets, was just the right person to help set up the technical basis of a free world. Even though her software knowledge was basic, the rules of programming came easily to her, and she was able to work with the other techies on the hardware that carried their weird codes.

She had been surprised when they told her that she was about to go in front of the camera as well. First, Harper had thought about Cullen and Stephanie and had been elated; they would finally learn what had happened to her. Then, her new task had involved leaving the safe haven of engineering to delve deeper into the corridors and rooms of SHIELD's facility... and an ever-growing paranoia of running into someone nagged in the back of her head.

If she was back, other tributes were back as well. Obviously. She hadn't seen anyone yet, but each turn around a corner had her hitching her breath, because what if she ran right into John Constantine? Diana? What would they even do? Apologize? Pick up where they left? Harper still didn't appreciate being split in half by an axe, and Diana probably still wasn't happy about that kick into the groin (which, Harper hoped, still hurt).

Was Caitlin back? And Jade! Oh, Harper longed to see Jade again. Weird how that little time, mostly filled with arguing with the tight-lipped girl from Ten, had wielded her a place into Harper's heart.

She was fairly certain that SHIELD wouldn't bring Harvey back. At least, she hoped not. He had been crazy ... or was the mind something they healed just as quick as the body? Harper guessed not, not after she started to phantom-limp every time she thought about running into Diana and John.

And then, of course ... Kaldur. He was back with SHIELD, but he had been in the field when the revolution hit. Harper didn't know how to feel about that at all. She wanted to tell him the truth desperately, to explain what had happened, but if he were to look at her with that expression ... Harper wouldn't be able to cope with it.

As she walked into the room of the recording, Sabretooth's tape was shown to Marvel again as a warm-up and a reminder. SHIELD wasn't going let anyone forget. Harper nodded toward the staff, who ushered her to her spot. When the recap ended, she looked up, and the red dot on the camera came on. It reminded her of the betrayal in Kaldur's eyes, and it gave her strength to continue with the gruesome stories she had to keep telling. Little by little, she would approach her own Quarter Quell story, and then Kaldur would understand.

"So, remember what I told you about Ororo and Loki the last time? Let's continue with another much too young tribute. Thea Queen, anyone? Or maybe we should start with Rachel Roth, who was unfortunate enough to be someone's daughter..."