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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

     𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 in Sage Rowan's life that she wished she could do over. Like when she had gotten sloppy and was caught by the Peacekeepers for being past the fence and had gotten flogged for it. That wasn't entirely her fault as some newbies fresh out of the academy had gotten lost and were patrolling at the wrong perimeter. But still, if she hadn't stayed out there longer than she should've tracking that deer, she could have avoided them and she wouldn't have to carry the reminder of that day with her everywhere.

    Or when she was nine years old and had been kicked out of the only home she has ever known, she had stolen from a boy only a year older than her who was in charge of the money and was beaten by his father for losing it. At least, that is what Sage had assumed, given the boy's face was beaten pretty badly the next day. Sage had been desperate then, mostly for new boots as hers had literally fallen apart and she could no longer wear them. Hunting bearfoot was not ideal. She remembers seeing him the next day, and hating herself for being the cause of his father's wrath.

    Then there is the day she had come home to discover her mother waiting for her with a knife in her grasp. Sage always wondered if she hadn't left that day. If she had been with her mother the whole day, would she have been more prepared? Could she have stopped her? She could have jumped on her before she brought the knife to her neck, and found some way to pry it out of her hands, some way to prevent it. Instead, she was frozen in front of the door, stunned to the point she had forgotten how to breathe properly as her mother told her she wasn't a good enough reason to live.

    Yes, there are moments in Sage's life she wished she could do over. But never- never in all her short fifteen years on this Earth- does she wish more than anything she could do over this particular moment.

    It was as if time had slowed. One minute, she was mulling over her first ever kill, the next her entire life was over. She could still hear that gasp- the gasp of her failure. And when she turned to see the one person she swore to protect with her life, literally, impaled from behind, everything inside of her just stopped. The overthinking, the planning, the determination, the fight... it was all taken from her in just one move.

    A look of horror fell upon her face as the long sword was retracted from her friend's flesh, too which Lorcan looked up at her with wide, frightened eyes before trying to take a step to her but fell to his knees, revealing the monster that stood behind him. The disheveled look of Chance Henderson appeared before her, thigh bleeding from where she had stabbed him and his black winter hat was now missing, revealing his messy, discombobulated chestnut hair.

    When the two District partners locked eyes, many emotions were spread before them. But before Chance could even move a muscle, a loud, fierce cry rippled from the fifteen year old's pale lips that it scared whatever birds were hanging in the trees above. "NO!"

    Sage didn't even waste a second as she reached for one of her knives. Chance's eyes widened in utter fear when he saw her move, knowing he was in no shape to fight her at that particular moment and sprinted in the opposite direction. Sage didn't let that stop her. She threw the first knife, watching as it just missed the back of his head by just a few centimeters and grabbed another, ignoring the throbbing pain in her bleeding palm and spun around swiftly, hurling the other one with all her might in a perfect motion. This time, it met its intended target, but not in the way she had hoped.

    Chance cried out in pain at the knife in his shoulder blade, looking back at Sage only once but never stopped running. Sage was ready to go after him when a shaky, disgruntled voice called out to her, halting her in her place.

    "Sage." Lorcan said, to which the redhead with fire in her eyes contemplated stopping or going after him. "Sage." He called out again, to which the redhead did not have a choice and ran back to the blond who was now laying in the snow, throwing herself to his side, heart racing a mile a minute.

    "I'm here," Sage whispered, immediately starting to unzip his jacket to get better access to the wound.

    Lorcan was shaking, but it wasn't anything new as they both had been shaking really badly from the cold. Blood was pouring out of him and Sage immediately started packing it, grabbing her sickle sword and cutting open his jacket, pulling out the cotton from inside it to pack the wound.

    "I-It's okay. You can survive this." Sage told him firmly, refusing to believe otherwise.

    "What- What are you doing?" Lorcan coughed, watching as she kept putting pressure on his stomach frantically.

    "I have to stop the bleeding."

    "Sage," Lorcan muttered, but the redhead was not listening. She packed the wound the best she could, her hands soaking in his blood. "Sage-"

    "No! No. You can make it. Azebel's dead, that just leaves four outside of us. We can wait it out. It will be fine." Sage rambles on, refusing to believe the truth.

    Lorcan brought his now steady hand over her trembling ones, using whatever strength he had left to stop them from fumbling over his wound. "Please, Sage. Please stop."

    "No! I have to stop the bleeding!" Sage said harshly, when suddenly she felt something leaking from her eyes. Tears. Actual tears. The last time she cried was when her mother killed herself when she was eight years old. She thought she was incapable of such an emotion ever again. She tried to move her hands, but Lorcan kept his grip on them firmly, causing the redhead to lift her eyes to his face, for the first time seeing blood leaking from the corner of his mouth.

    A sob wrecked through her, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably, still refusing to believe the truth. Sage shook her head repeatedly. "You can't die. I am so close to saving you. I was finally going to do something right."

    "Shhh. It's okay. Everything is going to be okay." Lorcan mumbles, his strength becoming weaker and weaker by the second. "I wish we had more time."

    Sage sniffled and cleared her throat. "I need to find something else to stop the bleeding. If I can control it, you can make it."

    "Sage-"

    "Hold this to your wound. You need to put pressure on it. I need to go grab the jacket off of Azebel before they airlift her out."

    "Sage, stop-"

    "No! I will not stop!" Sage yelled desperately, going to get up but was stopped by Lorcan refusing to let go of her hands. "Lorcan, let go! I can save you!"

    "Sage, listen to me!" The sixteen year old boy matched her tone the best he could, finally forcing Sage to meet his gaze, his blue eyes glassy as a tear escaped them. He then lifted his free hand and gently stroked her cheek. "From the moment I met you, I knew you were going to change everything for me. And you have. I wish we had more time."

    "Why do you keep saying that?" Sage questioned in confusion.

     "Because if we had more time, if we weren't here, if we had met under different circumstances, I'm pretty sure I would have fallen in love with you. If only we had more time."

    Sage closed her eyes, another sob escaping her. She then felt his head reach behind her neck and pull her down, and suddenly Sage was burying her face in his neck, his lips to her ear so he can speak directly to her without the cameras picking up on it. He whispered it quickly and Sage immediately withdrew from his, sucking in a sharp breath as reality was finally settled in from what he asked of her, but she still couldn't believe it.

    "No. No-no, Lorcan, p-please d-on't." Sage stuttered out, not caring that she looked like a blubbering mess. "Please. P-Please, you have to fight. You h-have to let me save you. Please, let me save you."

    Lorcan gave her one last beautiful smile. "You already did."

    And as Lorcan Ellison exhaled his final breath and a canon sounded not even three seconds later, a young Sage Rowan was brought back to her mother's suicide, as if it was deja vu. Holding him, begging him not to leave. She has done this before. But this time... this time it was so much worse. Because this time, this was her friend. A friend who believed in her. A friend who saw her. A friend who never made her feel like she was worthless or incompetent like her mother did.

    Another scream rippled from the young fifteen year old. And another... and another. She screamed and screamed until she was blue in the face, clinging onto Lorcan's body like her life depended on it. She didn't care if it drew attention to herself. Everything she fought for, the days of freezing her ass off and fighting and suffering in these harsh conditions has all been for nothing.

    She failed.

    So she screamed. She screamed at her failure. She screamed at the Capitol. She screamed to the heavens above if any afterlife even existed.

    She screamed until she couldn't scream anymore. Her hands were soaked in blood, both her own from the slice on her palm and Lorcan's. Once the screaming finally stopped, the hyperventilating started, as she sobbed uncontrollably. She lifted her blood soaked hand to her chest, not sure what was happening as she struggled for a steady rhythm.

    It wasn't until an image flashed in her mind is when she felt her breathing finally starting to slow, the image of a person who is responsible for this. The one person who went against his word like a fucking coward.

    "Let's just agree to stay away from one another and if it comes down to the final three, then we'll do what is necessary. Is it a deal?"

     "Yeah, it's a deal."

     He had agreed to it. They were supposed to stay away from each other until the final three. Chance agreed that he would do his own thing and she would do hers and if they stumbled upon each other, they would walk away.

    But he never planned on doing that. He had been hunting her for who knows how long? Maybe it was from the very beginning? Sage barely paid him any mind during the bloodbath. Her primary focus was Lorcan and avoiding death. Did he immediately partner up with Azebel? Would he have ended her if they came face to face the first day during that bloodbath? It was clear he was threatened by her. She kept showing him up, and like he said, she technically did ruined the alliance he was trying to make with the careers.

    Sage saw it from the moment his name was pulled from the reaping bowl. He was glad to be chosen. He said so himself, Chance wants to win, but not to just survive. Because he wants to be seen. He wants the glory, he wants the riches and admiration given to every victor winner.

    He killed Lorcan not because he didn't have a choice or because he was scared for his life... but because he wanted fame.

    The heavy breathing has now turned into seething, as Sage Rowan was filled with a blinding rage she never knew existed inside herself. Her sobs abruptly stopped as she lifted her head, staring straight ahead into the open abyss with a deadly look. Suddenly, Sage was no longer cold. Her blood was boiling from the fire that was enlightened inside of her. And just like that, Sage was moving.

    She set Lorcan down as gently as she could and leaned down, kissed his cold cheek, before going over to Azebel and grabbing her jacket, unraveling her scarf and snatching her hat from her head. Sage got to work fixing herself up, leaving the gloves she found in the pockets for once she cleans her hands and bandages her palm before taking Azebel's dagger and securing it in her boot before burying her sword in the snow, knowing she couldn't take it. She then searched for her knives until she had most of them, only missing one.

     With one look back at Lorcan, Sage started her pursuit, following the trail of her enemy. And she was not going to stop until it was Chance Henderson's blood her hands were soaked in.

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~ Meanwhile in the Capitol ~

    𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 Carmine's name was pulled from the Reaping bowl fifteen years ago, he has been operating on autopilot. It's like his body would react before his mind had a chance to catch up. He barely remembers the whole experience. He doesn't remember saying goodbye to his parents or his four younger siblings. He doesn't remember the train ride or even what his District partner looked like. He knew her name was Fern, but they hadn't exactly been close before going in and he did not want to get close to her knowing it can only end one way.

    Walker can only remember flashes. He remembers meeting his stylist, how he hated the guy because of how he looked at Walker like he was a dead man walking. He remembers the bright lights shining down on him during the interview and how Caesar Flickerman labeled him as a 'shy but handsome young man'. He has no idea what he had said during it or what was going on.

    He does remember his mentor, though. The beautiful and lovely Deirdre Rowan. He remembers how fascinated he was by her beauty and the way she was able to turn heads by just entering a room. He also remembers how she won her games... how she was able to manupated those two boys in the arena and turn them against one another, as she was very clever and persuasive.

    Walker knew the judgment that was given to Deirdre Rowan for how she won the games. And those he could understand from being on the outside, it is completely different when it is your name that is pulled. Because once you are chosen to fight to the death, everything inside you changes, especially your morals. You have two choices, accept your impending doom or you fight like hell with everything you got. And that is exactly what Deirdre did. She used the only thing she knew she had and that was her beauty and power of persuasion. It was her only form of weapon. She was not a fighter, she was a charmer.

    Because what the outside world doesn't understand, once your name is pulled, it is a do or die situation. You don't know what you are capable of until you have a gun to your head, and that is exactly what it feels like being chosen for the Hunger Games. A constant gun to your head until the trigger is finally pulled or you manage to evade it by winning.

    So yes, Walker showed Deirdre Rowan sympathy. Once he finally had that gun to his head, he understood exactly what she had to deal with. She is probably the only reason he got through all of it. Deirdre immediately picked up just how fast he was and told him to use it. To never, ever stop running. So he didn't. As soon as the countdown got to zero, he ran in the opposite direction of the cornucopia and just kept going, only stopping to find water or quickly hunt something down he could eat, though that had proven difficult. He wasn't much of a hunter.

    But whenever a tribute would catch up to him, he would outrun them. He never fought... not until it was down to him and that final tribute where he didn't have a choice anymore. Just like Deirdre did, he used his one strength to his advantage and it worked out for him. And despite Deirdre's growing mental issues or the fact that she kept everyone at arm's length, he found himself befriending his mentor as he felt she played a big part in his survival.

    Seven months after his win, Deirdre gave birth to a baby girl. He hadn't even known she was pregnant before going into the games. She was only two months at the time, so she did a good job at hiding it, but having the baby changed her. Walker hardly ever saw the child, Deirdre was very secretive of anyone getting close to the girl just like she was so secretive of who the father was.

    Walker wasn't stupid or blind. He knew what President Snow forced her into, so Walker always kept his curiosity about the father to himself, because a part of him did not want to upset his friend or shame her if she did not know the answer. But what Walker was positive of, the father was from the Capitol, and that wasn't something Deirdre wanted to make public, nor did the government, that was for sure.

    It did not stop the rumors, however, as Deirdre's vague answers of the father became more and more suspicious.

    Walker had only met Sage Rowan twice before she volunteered. The first was when she was only a baby, still basically a newborn. Walker had gone to visit his mentor and friend who was in and out of it due to the medication given. Being a victor gives you many privileges, including having access to strong medication such as morphine. During that time, Deirdre hadn't even named the child yet.

    The second time, Sage was five years old. She was very aware for her age, very well spoken and it was the first time Walker could really see the true resemblance between mother and daughter. He had told the young child so if he remembers correctly.

    When Sage volunteered for the Mayor's daughter, many things ran through his mind. The main thing was confusion. He had kept an eye on Sage over the years and though he kept his distance for a specific reason, that never meant he didn't attempt to watch out for his late friend's daughter. He knew she was isolated and often teased by other kids and often discarded by a lot of the adults as well just because of who her mother was. Sage was not someone who allowed people to talk bad about her and get away with it. She is the completely opposite of her mother. Sage is a fighter and she made sure everyone knew it. As far as he was aware, she had no friends.

    So why she had volunteered for that girl, he was dumbfounded to say the least. But he saw the look in her eyes. The way Adrian Pine was begging Sage not to take her place. He saw the very small, barely visible smile Sage had given the mayor's daughter. It was then that Walker realized, though had been watching over her from afar, he must have missed the friendship between the two girls, as it was clear on Sage's face that her decision to take Adrian's place was not done lightly.

    It's true Walker took a special interest in Sage. Being a mentor is hard, you are giving two tributes but in reality, you can only really focus on the one you believe can survive the whole thing. He liked Chance, felt bad for the guy, but he didn't stand a chance. Not like Sage did. So yes, Walker favored her. He worked hard to get her sponsors, but they came pretty easy the more Sage opened up to her ally. He had been surprised to see she had chosen someone from District 4, but he was happy she had taken his advance and found an alliance.

    When Sage had opened up about being kicked out of Victor's Village and being homeless for a year, it caused quite a stir in the Capitol. He had never seen them so riled up before, that the daughter of their beloved late victor was treated so horribly after her passing. But what made things worse when Sage confirmed the rumors about her father. Well, sort of. Lorcan only asked if it was true, if her father was from the Capitol, and she answered honestly by stating she had no idea. But she believes it. It was clear to anyone with eyes she believes it's the truth.

    It had stirred up the gossip once again that had started back when Deirdre revealed she was pregnant publicly. Of course, Deirdre never confirmed with anyone who the father was, but she never denied the rumors either. Just like Sage had said.

    In all his years of mentoring, Walker has never seen the Capitol people in such an uproar. Some had even started a protest to get her out, claiming her as one of their own. It wasn't a large group, but Walker is pretty sure if it was officially confirmed to be the truth, President Snow would have a riot on his hands in the Capitol.

    Now, as Walker sat at the bar where many of the other mentors go to watch the games when they are not in their suites, he - along with the rest of the citizens in the area - stared up at the large screen, listening to the gut wrenching screams of Sage as she held the now lifeless boy she had just revealed she was willing to protect and give up everything for, how she never even planned on winning or even making it that far if it wasn't for the boy from District 4. She admitted she was going to allow herself to be taken out during the bloodbath.

    She never intended to fight. She never intended to survive.

    Her screams were deafening. The once rowdy, loud bar was dead silent, watching the screen as the strongest and smartest tribute in the arena was having a full breakdown. There wasn't a dry eye in sight and even Walker had to clear his throat to keep himself from shedding a tear, his mind trying to process everything that happened.

    A presence appeared next to him and he didn't even need to look to know who it was, especially once she snatched his whiskey from his grasp and gulped it down in one go.

    "Our poor girl," Tatyana whispered, her acrylic nails tapping against the bar counter to get the Avox's attention, pointing at the glass for a refill.

    Walker glanced over at the stylist, her usual look dulled down, her eyes puffy and wiped clean from makeup, as she just got back from cleaning herself up to hide the fact that she had been crying just like everyone else. "Did you know?"

    Tatyana did not need further explanation, immediately knowing what he was referring to. "Yes."

     "Did she tell you?" Walker questioned softly, not wanting to draw attention.

    "She didn't have to." She answered, though Walker knew she was right. If he hadn't been so blind, if only he would have seen, he wouldn't have seen what he always did in a tribute, a child who wants to live through this nightmare. If he truly had been paying attention, he would have seen a broken girl who felt like she had nothing left to live for. A girl who did not want to become like her mother.

    Tatyana patted Walker's hand comfortably. "You did the best you could, Walker. Do not blame yourself."

    It was hard not too.

    As he stared at the screen, watching as Sage was no longer screaming, but sobbing, all he wanted to do was pull her out of there. He wanted to hold her, tell her she had more people who care for her than she even realizes. When he felt eyes on him, Walker searched the large, wide bar until he saw a certain seventeen year old with sandy blond hair staring at him from the opposite side with so much intensity.

    Finnick Odair, youngest tribute to ever win the games, who just watched both of his tributes die within the span of a few minutes. He seemed distraught, but unreadable. His emotions were in check and as if meeting his stare was a summons, Finnick stood with his glass and walked around the bar, until he was next to Walker.

    He didn't say anything at first, just stared at the screen as the camera continued to focus on the crying fifteen year old. Finally, after a couple minutes, Finnick cleared his throat after taking another sip from what Walker knew all too well was a gin. "I guess congratulations are in order."

    Walker frowned at the young boy. "What are you talking about?"

    Finnick looked at both him and Tatyana with an emotionless grin. "She won. I mean, not yet of course. Not officially. Her little confession was admirable, but there is no way in hell that a girl with her skills is going to be taken out so easily now. It may have been what she wanted, but things are different now."

    "And why do you say that, pretty boy?" Tatyana questioned, leaning over to look at the young victor with her curious cat-like eyes.

    Finnick looked up at the screen once more before looking back at the mentor and the stylist and pointing at the up at the screen. "Because that is not the look of a girl who is ready to die. That is the look of a girl who is out for blood. And something tells me no one is going to stand in her way until she ends that little bastard from her District who just killed her friend."

     With that said, Finnick finished his drink and flipped it upside down, walking away from both of them and towards the elevators to take him back up to his suite. When Walker and Tatyana finally looked back at the screen, they no longer saw a sobbing girl mourning the loss of her friend, but they saw as the cameras zoomed in closely on her face, getting a close up of the look that sent a chill down Walker's spine. Whispers and murmurs broke the eerie silence, watching the look in the redhead's eyes turn into something dangerous... something monstrous.

    That is when Walker understood what Finnick had meant. Because that was no longer the girl who was willing to just roll over and die so easily. That is a look of pure violence. That is a look of a girl who seeks revenge on the one who had wronged her.

    Sage Rowan is out for blood. More specifically, she is out for Chance Henderson's blood. Walker can only pray for the sorry souls who get in her way.

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Welp.... I'm officially in mourning. Definitely one of the hardest things I've ever had to write.

RIP LORCAN ELLISON!

This was kinda a filler chapter, definitely needed but next chapter is going to be all hell breaking loose. Meaning our girl is about to lose her shit on that asshole Chance.

If you'll excuse me, I'm going to go cry myself to sleep.