Hugh and Pluto looked at each other, their eyes meeting in the first moment of peace since the games had begun. Pluto's slight arm rested around Hugh, his chestnut eyes glassy with tears. He quickly wrapped himself around Hugh, embracing him as he began to sob. He buried his face into Hugh's shoulder, ignoring the blood that stained it. Hugh was still, breathing deeply. They had done it, they had won. They had won the Hunger Games...

They continued to embrace each other, trying to move past the incredible pain in both of their bodies. Bones were broken, their thin skin bruised. Their bodies swelled with blood as it flowed from the knife cuts that covered them. But it was over. This was it, the end. They could finally go home.

Pluto felt the warmth of Hugh's body, the only thing that felt right the past two weeks of his life. Two weeks. That's all it had been. Two weeks ago he was reaped, his life as he knew it- ending. Two weeks ago he entered the hunger games- the place were the old Pluto died, and a stronger yet inured one now stood- wrapped around his last hope in these turbulent times.

Pluto pulled off of Hugh and looked up into the sky., wiping tears from his soft cheeks. It was empty, and so they waited. There were no announcements, no hovercrafts. The sky was as it had been before Armie's cannon- a vibrant painting of fiery clouds- oranges, reds, and purples, littered with dusty white wisps. Where were they? Where were the ones supposed to save them from this place? Hugh squeezed Pluto's hand, his face deathly white.

"Pluto..." he whispered, the other boy looking down and meeting his eyes. Pluto, upon seeing Hugh's white face, felt the lively butterflies in his stomach die. His mouth went dry, the hair on the back of his neck standing up.

"Hugh... Where are they?" he said with a pause. They were supposed to rescue them, take them away from this cursed place.

"I- I don't... I don think-"

"Think they're coming..." 

Pluto looked down into his lap, clenching Hugh's hand, his face losing color like Hugh's. He perked up at a rumble through the city. The sound of mic feedback rang through the arena, a new voice- coming from invisible speakers.

"Good Morning tributes- Hugh Wellben, Pluto Ryder." a soft-spoken man said. It was Peeta Mellark. He began again, his voice carrying a soft almost guilty, cadence. "You have made it this far- surviving the countless threats to your lives... Proving yourself worthy to be our final two victors," he continued, the man's voice fragile- breaking. "However it is my duty to inform-" he started once again, his voice riddled with cracks- a sob and the murmuring of angry voices feeding into the mic. The sound of the mic being passed to someone else before a females voice replaced the one before it- this one angrier- more aggressive. It was Johanna Mason.

"We must inform you that in true Hunger Games-style- there will only be one victor this year." she began, Hugh's eyes dilating, his stomach turning  " And we will not be the ones to choose who wins- you must fight it out yourselves." she said, with a final sigh "Good luck... May the odds be ever in your favor," she barked- more succinct than she had been in the past. The mic cut out, leaving the arena still, the loudest sound the beating of the boys' hearts.

They were frozen, their hearts dropping into the pits of their stomachs. Hugh stared forward, past Pluto and into the void. He scorned himself; they should have known. Why would the rebellion be so forgiving after everything they put the tributes through... Why would they be any different than the Capital had been to Katniss and Peeta?

Hugh squeezed Pluto's hand, the smaller boy looking up, crying. He had remained strong these past weeks. He had to survive- he had to live for his sister. Flashes of an older girl with bright pink hair passed through his brain, the girl who raised him- loved him. He looked at Hugh, the other boy's eyes dry and stoic. Hugh watched Pluto cry, still holding his hand.

"Pluto..." he murmured. "I'm won't hurt you. I'm not going to kill you," the boy said with a pause between them. Pluto solemnly nodded his head, looking up and around in desperation.

"I won't hurt you either Hugh," he agreed, still. He continued to cry, unsure of what to do. He couldn't die. But he couldn't kill either. Not again. He had stolen one life already. The boy bent down and sobbed, he would rather die himself than take another life- especially the life of someone who had protected him as Hugh did. He owed everything to him- as he owed everything to Merla. But she was dead, and Hugh didn't have to share her fate...

Memories of past games, seeped into his consciousness, the memories of two tributes and a handful of berries. He looked up, his sobbing dying down as he looked at Hugh. He looked out past him and out to the edge of the roof- past the rises and spikes of the crown and off into the void of that destroyed arena.

He gave Hugh another mournful glance, who watched with furrowed brows as Pluto began to stand up. He stayed on the ground, Pluto's eyes streaming with tears as they met a final time. The boy forced himself to look away, starting to limp outwards. In those moments Pluto thought a thousand thoughts; his sister- her name mumbled on his lips as if in apology. He thought of the people he met in the arena; Galve, the boy he saved from that bloody fountain; Merla, who saved his life and protected him- for no reason other than the love in her heart; Park, whose life he took; and Hugh, his final ally in these games- who could have killed him and gone home with Armie with ease- but never did. He owed them all something- especially Hugh. He deserved to go home more than he did...

He limped to the edge of the crown, looking down into the ruptured piles of ash and concrete beneath. The wind picked up, passing through his dirty brown curls with blissful ease. He took it all in around him- the strange beauty of the decimated landscape. He closed his eyes- summoning thoughts of Hugh, Merla, his sister, and even Park, as this was for them. He took in a final cleansing breath, he was ready. About to step forward he felt a hand grab his...Looking up, his eyes et Hugh's who stood at his side. He was finally crying, trails of tears running down his reddened cheeks.

"I won't let you do this, he said, the most confident he had since the games began.

"Hugh..." Pluto murmured, "This is my life, I'm choosing how it ends," he began, his voice starting to crumble and crack. "I'd rather die now, whole than to go home with your blood on my hands, with Park's blood on my hands," he said before stopping, seeing the peace in Hugh's eyes. He was quiet as he looked at him.

"I'm not gonna let you die alone then," Hugh held, the silence truly filling the air. Pluto looked at him, nodding his head, unable to say no. "We'll die together," he finished staring into Pluto, accepting his fate. This was the only way. The way to leave this arena as himself instead of a bloodstained husk of a person

"Together," Pluto repeated, weaving his fingers slowly into Hugh's and looking out at the arena. It was so peaceful like this- the breeze gently blowing through their clothes, the sun rising on the horizon- signaling a fresh new day. It was beautiful. Hugh looked at the sun, a hot red orb in the sky. It's bright rays outstretched from the sky, touched on the horizon like a mother caring for her child. No view had ever been so tantamount in their lives. They were would be no more fighting- no weapons, no traps, no more children killing each other in the name of The Hunger Games.

A minute passed, Hugh and Pluto closing their eyes as they took in one final deep breath. Pluto apologized to his family- Hugh thinking of Finn's bloody kiss. Soon he would be with him. Pluto opened his eyes, squeezing Hugh's hand. It was time...

They looked at each other one final time. Pluto nodded his head, his young eyes glassy and red with tears. They looked out into their arena and stepped forward.

 Falling forward, they held each other's hands, giving into the void, no one to stop them. They fell, closing their eyes- gripping onto each other as they plummeted towards the earth. The air rushed around them, filling their lungs. Their glowing cheeks flushed pink, hair flowing around them, angels descending from the heavens. Time seemed to slow- lives flashing before their eyes; childhoods, the reapings, training. And finally, the Games- the arena that broke them, killed the innocent children that once owned their bodies. They saw the wreckage beneath them, accepting their fate with the utmost clarity. And as they neared the ground- they thought of each other.

They hit the ground. 

Broke cracked, bloodshed, dust blowing into their lungs and through their mouths. They sunk into the piles of ash, their bodies twisting into the steel and concrete debris. They lied there, in the carpet of ash, eyes closed. And as the camera zoomed in on their bodies, one could see their bloodied fingers still intertwined...

To Be Continued...