Epilogue

Bane looked peaceful in death.

His eyes were closed; his body sprawled out as if he had fallen from complete exhaustion. It was probably how he met his doom. He had been tired out too much, he had barely any strength left to carry on. And here I thought that Bane would go all the way.

I always thought that if I didn't win the Hunger Games, the next best person who had the best odds to do it was Bane. If I put Shane into that equation, I'd want to say Shane had the better odds.

Shane. I looked up from Bane's corpse. Where was the boy from 12, anyway? Was he crawling away, trying to find something to rest against? Was he searching for me at this very minute, like I was doing for him?

I didn't linger long near Bane's body, I continued on my quest to find the boy I loved.

You were quite the competition, Bane. A lot of people won't forget you. I certainly wouldn't forget him. How could I forget a boy who chased after me for so long? I felt sort of bad now, telling him that I didn't want a relationship with him yet here in the arena, I was with Shane. I was such a hypocrite, I made myself sick.

Even though I didn't really like Bane, he had been one hell of a fighter. His determination to win the Games had carried him far, just like my determination had. Accepting Bane's death made me think about Regina, his prep team, Sienna, and Ross. My heart went out to all that was left of his family—his mother. I bet Sienna was in a room, alone, crying her eyes out. "Shane?" I called weakly. I felt like I had been hobbling in one direction. My legs felt like jelly, ready to buckle under me. My stomach growled, my throat was as dry as a desert. I was in the worst shape I had ever been during these Games. But I had made it this far. For that, I was proud of myself.

I knew Dad would be cheering for me back at home, Mom a nervous wreck as she'd watch the TV. I bet all of District 1 was in a hype, knowing that I was still alive—somewhat. "Crys?" a distant voice rang. My spirits perked up. Was that really him, or was I simply dreaming up his voice to convince myself that he was near? Please be here. Please be close, I prayed. "Crys!"

"Shane?" I shouted back in the strongest voice I could muster.

Through the thicker area of trees, I saw Shane emerge. I laughed tiredly, nearly bursting into tears just seeing him. His face was blotched with bruises; he had a black eye forming. He had somewhat of a limp, nowhere near as bad as mine though. He looked in much better shape than me. In his hand was his bow, an empty pack still over his shoulder.

His gray eyes lit up at the sight of me. I trotted as quickly as I could while Shane sprinted to me. He grabbed me, lifting me into the air. He laughed, setting me down gently, holding me against him. I burrowed my head into his chest, trembling with joy.

"I thought it was you," he groaned. "I thought it had been you..."

"He didn't make it," I squeaked, looking up at him. He brushed away stray tears from my face. "We did it." I grabbed his face, pulling him down for a gentle kiss. He smiled against my lips, making me mirror him. We looked deep into each other's eyes, grinning.

Shane's happiness slowly faded into something different, and something scary. I saw realization in his eyes.

"What?" I whispered, searching his eyes for an answer.

"We're the only two left," he murmured distantly.

My hands fell to my sides; I stepped out of his arms. The cold truth shook me. He was right, only one could be a victor for the Games.

This couldn't be happening right now. We had made it through tough odds. Now, we were going to have to make it through something even tougher: losing each other.

The question was: who was going to die, and who was going to be the one to do the honor?

I looked down at the ground, breath shaky. I never expected the deciding kill to be so...difficult for me. I had never expected to fall in love in the arena, let alone actually be in the final two with the boy I loved. I grabbed my aching heart. I looked into Shane's eyes. He was just as upset about this as I was. In terms of emotional pain, I wasn't sure who was feeling worse.

"No...This can't happen. It's—it's not fair," I choked.

"Who said we had to play fair?" Shane retorted lightly. He grabbed my hands; the hilt of the knife was in my palm sideways.

The light bulb went off in my head. Shane was trying to get me to follow him in his parents' footsteps. That was the last thing I wanted to do.

"No." I shook my head, ripping my hands out of his. I took a step back from him. "We can't do it."

"Yes, we can." He took a step towards me.

I didn't move. "No, we can't."

"Why not?"

"How can we? We aren't as resourceful as your parents were. I don't want to put Panem into another civil war, not again. It's been through two, I can't imagine it going through a third. I don't want to live a life that involves me hurting those around me all because we were both saved and, due to that, we've sparked another rebellion.

"They're going to have a victor, Shane." I began to wonder if the Gamemakers made the arena to where if two tributes had fallen in love, that there was no way for them to commit suicide, preventing the Games from having a victor. Had they predicted that such drama would erupt this year? "And that victor is going to be you."

"Crystal, don't say that."

"Shane, listen to me," I cut him off. "Your district needs this victory more than mine does. Your family does, too. District One is well off and most likely always will be. It's had lots of victors in the past. It's about time District Twelve got one, and who better to win it than a son of two former winners?"

"I won't kill you." He folded his arms across his chest. "I'd rather us live in here as long as we can."

Fine, two could play at that game. If he wanted to be stubborn, well, so would I. "Do you hear yourself?" I snapped. "I wouldn't last long." I looked down at my cut leg. "I'm in pain as we speak, Shane. I'm asking you to end my misery now." I went to him, putting the knife in his hand.

He shoved it back into mine. "As much as I want to help you with that, I can't bring myself to even think about doing it," he snarled. "How can I think about killing the girl I love?"

My heart softened, but my face didn't show it. If Shane wouldn't take the chance, I'd have to take matters into my own hands. I was going to have to make him put the knife in me. "Fine, then I'll do it myself," I threatened.

Shane's eyes widened. "You wouldn't," he scoffed.

"Try me."

"Crystal, think this through." He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. He seemed to be considering what he was going to say to me next. He's probably preparing another speech to convince me to not take the knife to my heart.

But what came out of his mouth was the complete opposite: "You're right. You're right when you say the Games will have a victor. They're going to get one." He chucked the bow down to the ground. "Go ahead. I'm giving you another free shot."

Well, I saw this coming. "Shane," I whined. "I can't kill you. I won't kill you."

"I want you to," he pressed. "You've wanted this your whole life, Crystal. I'm giving you the chance to live your dream to the fullest."

"Screw the Hunger Games dream, I don't care about that anymore! I don't want to lose you," I said stubbornly, stomping my foot to show my anger. "I can't imagine putting this"—I jiggled the knife—"through you."

"One of us has to go," he pushed.

"I know." I took a breath.

Shane looked at me, waiting for me to say something. I was mulling something over in my head. This would not be a happy outcome for either of us, no matter who won and who died. We'd be separated by death, apart forever.

There was no easy way to give the Hunger Games a victor this year. Katniss and Peeta had no difficulty having them both survive. I couldn't imagine them trying to go through what Shane and I were right now. I was sure all of Panem was in an uproar about this, how two lovers were doomed to never be together outside of the arena. Please be rowdy enough to convince the Gamemakers to set us free. That was a very desperate wish, because I didn't want to plunge Panem into war again.

Tears were brimming in my eyes as I made my decision. It would kill me to do this, but there was no other choice. If there was any choice that would endure us both living without being trouble for the Capitol, I would take it without question.

But there was no such thing. There was no way out of this.

"Okay," I whispered. "I'll do it." I blinked back tears.

Shane came to hug me tightly. I sniffled. My pulse was quickening at the thought of my plan. I was going to hate myself for this, and I was sure I would upset some people, but I saw no other solution to this problem. The other solution presented to me I had to rule out.

"Crystal?" Shane mumbled.

"Yes?" I looked up at him.

Shane bent down, kissing me deeply. My mind went fuzzy, nearly erasing my plan from my mind. It still hung around, lurking, waiting to be put into action. Tears spilled from my eyes. I could hear my heart shattering into pieces.

I put a hand on Shane's chest, the other tightening on the knife's hilt. I inhaled shakily. My heart sped up, knowing what was going to happen. Shane, I hope you forgive me for this. His breath tickled my face.

Do it.

My hand was shaking, the knife wobbling with it. I steadied it. There was no way I was going to let a shaky knife penetrate the skin. Concentrating, I put force into the knife—

And stabbed myself in the abdomen.

I was taken aback by how it felt. It was a quick, slicing pain. My eyes popped open, looking down at the knife. Already, I saw blood spilling.

Shane gasped. His hands flew to the knife. I looked into his horrified eyes.

I collapsed to the ground, Shane caught me halfway down. He was fretting, mumbling incoherent things as he laid me on his lap. I sniffed, sobbing.

"Oh God no," he moaned. I flinched as I felt him slide the knife out of me. He laid it on my stomach. "No. Crys." He stroked my head. "Why?"

"I knew you wouldn't be able to do it...so I figured if you couldn't, I c-could," I whispered. "Besides, i-it's my way of repaying you for—for everything."

Shane moaned, pushing his head into mine. "You shouldn't have d-done it," he sputtered. Tears rolled down his cheeks. "I-I would have given m-my life up if it m-meant you'd live."

I looked at him pitifully, breathing slower. "I'm doing that for you," I croaked, a hint of smile in my tone. "District T-Twelve deserves a time without poverty and...and starvation." I rested my hands over my wound. My fingers just bumped the bloody knife, the knife I had had from the very beginning. I never thought I'd use my own weapon against me. "I'm doing this for you, Shane, and your district. I'm doing this for...for Panem."

"T-this shouldn't be h-happening." Shane put a hand over mine.

"It has to. Hey." I put a hand to his cheek, rubbing it softly with my thumb. "Everything is going to be...okay."

"How do you k-know?" he retorted bitterly.

"I just...do." I nuzzled him. "Shh." I rubbed his head. He choked a sob. I closed my eyes briefly. "You should be the one comforting me, not the other...way around."

Shane laughed apathetically. He was too overwhelmed by my sacrifice to save him, his district, his family, and all of Panem. I had no doubt all of the people watching this were in tears and blowing into tissues. This was the kind of stuff that brought in the ratings for the Gamemakers.

I hope you're happy, I thought bitterly. I hoped now that people boycotted the Games after witnessing this, saying that the Games ruined hopes of young love.

"Shane," I murmured.

"Yes?" His face was close to mine.

"Can you undo my necklace for me?"

"What?" He was caught off guard.

"Please."

A little uncertain, Shane did as he was told. He put it into one of my hands. I put it into one of his palms, closing it. I didn't feel the need for it to be on me when I'd get laid to rest. I wanted a piece of me to make it outside of the arena so that my spirit could maybe live on somewhere. I wanted my good luck charm to be in the best care possible. Who better to give it to then the boy who I had fallen for?

"A little piece of me to pass on to the outside world." I grinned weakly. "Do what you want with it. All I ask is that...that it stays safe, in the right hands."

"It w-will, Crys. I promise." He kissed my temple.

I could see white light starting to invade my vision. I looked into Shane's gray eyes lovingly. I rubbed his cheek.

I felt the knife get moved, but I clamped my hands down on it. Shane couldn't fool me, even if I was dying. He wasn't about to hurt himself or kill himself.

I shook my head at him. "They need a victor," I croaked. "Even if you tried, the Gamemakers would stop you. Besides, if I had to choose anyone besides me to crown victor, I'd choose you."

"I wish I could have s-seen the real y-you," he sniffled, pressing his head into the side of mine.

I dropped my hand back into my lap. "You did. When I was with you, that was who I really was, Shane. I realize now that—the Career side of me was just a—a phase, nothing more." My eyelids were half closed, so I could barely see Shane. "You were right."

"If only you had lived in Twelve...I wouldn't have to l-lose you like this."

"Can you promise me something?" I whispered.

"Anything."

"Go back to Twelve," I said hoarsely, "live your life." I kissed his cheek. "Find a nice girl, get married."

"Crystal. I-I don't think I'll find a-another girl like—like you." He tried to clear his throat.

"Don't forget me, ever."

"I never will, Crys. How can I forget the only girl I've ever loved?" His head hovered above mine.

"Please...don't let memories of me...hold you back from having a chance at a happy life. Remember me how I was, not how I am."

His face seemed out of focus to me. I knew I didn't have much time left.

I thought about District 1, my parents, Demi, Sienna, Remi, Maggie, and Jackie. I would never forget them all, they were special to me. Yes, even Ross had a small place in my heart even though he had been helping me train up for my death. I really hoped that somehow Shane would meet my parents.

Wait, what was I saying? He'd see them when he would go on the Victory Tour.

I wondered how people would view me after this. Would people consider my act foolish or noble? Would I be remembered by the good that I had done? Would I be remembered as a Career, or would I be remembered as a girl who would do anything for the one she loved?

"Shane," I croaked.

He pressed his lips softly to mine, barely making an impact on my slowing heart. I could taste his tears and feel his lower lip trembling against mine. His hand caressed my face; I felt his tears drip onto my hands. Our foreheads touched. I kept my eyes closed.

"I love you...so much," he whispered.

"We barely know...each other. How can you say that?"

"I know how I feel. Besides, if you remember, we aren't the regular couple."

I smiled. I thought I would never hear those three little words. Despite them being said way too soon, our circumstance was different than most couples'. Most couples didn't find each other in a deadly arena. Most didn't have to fight the other in a fight to the death.

Now, I could welcome death.

I sniffled, a tear leaking from my eye. "I love you, too."

**Such a heart-breaking, powerful ending, don't you think? 

Originally, this epilogue was supposed to be a one-shot, but then it stemmed into this the more I gave thought to it.

 I really hoped you all enjoyed this, through all the suspense and heartbreak.**