IT WAS Francesca's turn to keep watch, as she leant her back up against a tree trunk. She watched the memorial in the sky for the second time: Douce from 3, Laura from 10. Only two people had been killed in the last 24 hours. Francesca thought it would be over much quicker; in Finnick's games, half the Tributes died in the bloodbath. She had a strong feeling that her Hunger Games would last a long time.

She wondered if people were hiding, especially as the Careers hadn't been spotted in the last few days. Frankie wondered if they had a plan to wipe out the remaining Tributes later in the week— she didn't trust them, especially because they probably felt threatened of her. Francesca hated not knowing they're plans; she thought the Careers would be running the arena as soon as they arrived, not hiding.

Frankie's eyes adjusted to the night, watching her allies sleep around her. Kipper, who was laying right next to her. The twins, who had fallen asleep holding their weapons. And Nico, who had struggled to fall asleep from his repetitive coughing, and even now his breath was rasping as he exhaled.

She thought about Finnick and Mags, unable to stop her thoughts from racing wildly with memories of them. She wondered if Finnick was proud of her decisions so far, or if he had any advise he wanted to give her, or if he needed to lecture her about her form whilst throwing a trident. She missed her family back home— she wanted to go home. Francesca looked at the locket that hung around her neck, looking at the picture of...

SNAP!
A sudden noise from the distance made her flinch. Her eyes widened, as she grabbed her trident from beside her. Her eyes squinted into the gloom, trying to catch a glimpse of any movements within the shadows. The glisten of a sharp dagger within the trees made Frankie quickly nudge Kipper awake. The way the dagger reflected the moon's light made her heart race,

"Kipper!" Frankie whisper-yelled, she looked around at the group sleeping, "Hey, wake up— hey!" The four were awake in an instant, their eyes following Frankie's. She informed, staying still, "Someone's here."

"They aren't moving," Dorothy frowned in confusion, holding onto her axe tightly.

Kipper whispered, frozen, "Nico, grab your bow."

Fletcher muttered, "Can you see who it is?"

"No." Nico replied, aiming his bow and arrow into the trees. He closed one eye, breathing slowly; inhaling, exhaling. He wouldn't shoot until it was necessary.

Suddenly, the figure moved from the shadows, the moonlight shining and revealing the Tribute: Colette, from District 8. She had lunged out from behind the trees, sending her dagger straight into the trunk of a tree beside them.

The five shot up quickly, though Frankie was surprised by the terrible shot. The dagger had landed in the tree trunk metres away from them; Frankie had watched Colette in training, and she was very skilled. If she had missed this shot, it would have been on purpose. But why?

"Shoot!" Dorothy ordered, and Nico immediately let the arrow fly through the air.

Francesca remembered about her partner, Jax, and how they had never left each others' side. Frankie hadn't seen Jax on the sky's memorial, and she knew that they wouldn't split up in the arena. She hadn't heard any canons go off overnight, so he was definitely still alive. Where was he?

BOOM!
The canon sound erupted, echoing through the night sky. Colette collapsed onto the floor, an arrow imbedded straight into her chest. It was easy— too easy. The group stood in silence, almost taken aback by their own surprise.

Dorothy questioned, "Who was that?"

"Colette," Francesca said, though her eyes were still looking around unsatisfactorily, "From 8."

"Holy shit," Fletcher grinned at Nico, "A man of a few words, but fucking skilled. I had you all wrong." He paused, shooting a remark, "Did you learn your bow and arrow skills from Kipper?"

"Funny," Kipper retorted, biting back a smirk.

Dorothy frowned curiously, "You okay, Frankie?"

"Yeah," The girl nodded, "It just seemed too—"

A agonised gasp unexpectedly, causing the group to turn to look at the sound. Fletcher— a machete impaled straight through his stomach. The boy choked, as crimson blood poured out of his mouth. Fletcher looked down at the machete that stuck out of his stomach, stabbed right through his body.

"FLETCHER!" Dorothy screamed, immediately at the boy's side. She cried, supporting him as he fell to the floor, "It's okay, you're okay. Fletcher, come on. Fletch— open your eyes."

Francesca turned around towards the direction the machete had been thrown from, gripping onto her trident at the sight of a Tribute sprinting towards the group: Jax, from 8. He was furious, his expression filled with hatred and rage and grief from losing Colette.

"Kipper!" Frankie shouted to gain the boy's attention, as he turned around to face the enraged Tribute. Jax, weaponless, jumped on the boy, tackling him to the floor and punching Kipper repeatedly.

Without thinking, Francesca lunged towards the two. She raised her trident into the air, though before she could throw it, a body had jumped down from within the tree above them. The body had landed on Jax, bundling him off of Kipper and fighting him on the ground. The stranger and Jax were both weaponless, meaning it would take them longer to kill each other; Frankie gripped onto her trident.

She tried to catch a glimpse of the tree-boy as he was fighting Jax, though they were bundling each other so quickly that Francesca couldn't make out who it was. Though, she knew that tree-boy seemed to be helping them, so she decided to trust him.

Francesca quickly sent her trident into Jax's head. His blood splattered onto the tree-boy's face below, as the trident's spears pierced through Jax's body. One spike stabbed through his face, the middle spike through his neck, and the third through his chest. Jax's body was stuck on the teeth of the trident because Frankie had used so much force to kill him.

BOOM!
She panted angrily.

The forest returned to its unnatural silence once more, accompanied by the cries of Dorothy.

BOOM!

The tree-boy pushed himself up from underneath Jax's limp body.

"Fletcher— NO!" Dorothy bellowed an agonising cry, burying her head into Fletcher's shoulder, "Please... No."

Francesca dissociated in a state of shock because of her actions. Kipper was instantly stood at her side, gently taking the trident from her shaking hands and pulling Jax's body off of it. Kipper placed the trident on the floor, before cautiously walking over to tree-boy on the ground. He panted heavily, and it wasn't until he wiped his long hair from his face that Frankie recognised who he was.

"August?" Kipper questioned curiously, offering out a hand, "Thank you."

The District 12 boy gave a nod, though his eyes were expressive and full of sympathy, "No problem. Sorry I didn't step in sooner." He gestured towards Fletcher, "We saw Jax and Colette, though I had to wait for the right moment to jump down."

It made sense now... Colette was trying to hit August and Cherry with her axe. The two were hiding in the trees all along.

"That's okay, man," Kipper attempted at a smile, "You're good."

"We?" Francesca repeated quietly. And that's when she heard the distant song; Cherry's familiar voice...

"You're headed for heaven
The sweet old hereafter
And I've got one foot in the door
But before I can fly up
I've loose ends to tie up
Right here in the old therebefore,"

Her voice was beautiful. A fragile melody against a backdrop of violence. Tears streamed down Cherry's face as she sang, each note laced with grief and a raw aching loss. The words of the song spoke of peace and remembrance, a plea for Fletcher's spirit to find rest. Cherry hadn't spoken to Fletcher before, though her grief and respect for him was as if she had known him for years.

"I'll catch you up
When I've emptied my cup
When I've worn out my friends
When I've burned out both ends
When I've cried all my tears
When I've conquered my fears
Right here
In the old therebefore..."

Cherry placed a flower on Fletcher's heart, tucking the blonde hair behind his ear. A tear rolled down her cheek, as she gently closed his eyes shut.

"When nothing is left anymore."

Francesca was watching her from a few metres distance. She watched as the moonlight beamed upon the scene; Cherry was bathed in the silver light, reflecting the tears that stained her freckled face. Frankie was captivated by the haunting beauty of her sadness and the tragic power that Cherry held in her strong heart.

"I'm sorry that this happened," Cherry apologised to the girl opposite her, her strong accent so gentle.

a/n:
CHERRY