Santana had finally settled into an alcove for the night. In the moonlight she examined the injury Sebastian had given her. It wasn't lethal, but it hurt like hell. He'd managed to slice her across her lower ribs, but luckily the cut didn't seem to be that deep. It was stupid of her to get that close to her enemy, but she knew she had one shot to incapacitate him. She lost her only weapon in the fight and had to flee, but the cannon boom let her know she succeeded in taking out her enemy.

The full moon seemed unnaturally bright and Santana wondered if the Gamemakers had somehow enhanced the light to allow her competitors to keep hunting through the night. Each tribute was allowed to bring one non-dangerous personal item into the arena with them. Some wore a piece of jewelry with special meaning, others brought a photograph of loved ones. Santana pulled out a worn and faded envelope that looked like it had been read and refolded hundreds of times. As always, Santana smiled as soon as she saw the bright red crayon written on the page. Before she entered the arena, Brittany had passed on a letter for her mentor to bring home. Santana ran her thumb over her final message from her lost love. Brittany wrote about her experiences in the Capitol, how much she worried about her pet cat back home, and her fear that she wouldn't survive the Games. Santana smiled sadly when she reread her girlfriend's memories from her time in the Capitol.

“We got to go to parties. None of the girls here are as beautiful as you are. I was sad and I missed you today. I met a nice boy at the party. He was singing and making music and he smelled like hair gel. He could tell I was sad and bought me an ice cream. It even had sprinkles. I told him I missed your sweet lady kisses and he told me I should write you a letter so you would know how much I miss you. And he promised to write a song just for us. It's scary here and the other tributes are mean. I don't wanna die yet. At least not until ‘One Tree Hill' gets cancelled. I promise to do what you told me and hide from the mean people. Please help Lord Tubbington with his gambling problem. I love you.”

I love you. The words seemed so easy written in Brittany's crooked handwriting, but Santana had never been able to say them. Not even when she said goodbye before Brittany boarded the train to the Capitol. Brittany had said it hundreds of times and Santana had only ever said “me too.” It wasn't that she didn't mean them, but she had always been afraid that once they're out there you can't take them back and it would hurt more to say goodbye.

The next pages delivered with Brittany's letter were written in crisp, neat handwriting. It was a letter from the boy Brittany had met at the tribute party.

“Dear Santana, you don't know me and we likely will never meet, but I felt compelled to write to you. I grew up in the Capitol so you have every reason to hate me, because I am part of a system that has destroyed your life. During the tribute parties, I was working as a musician, and I met Brittany. She seemed so sad and alone, and I could tell she wanted someone to talk to. We talked for hours over ice cream and she told me how much she loves you and misses you. I get the feeling you don't hear this often, but your love is beautiful and your relationship is special. I want this letter to be accompanied by Brittany's return home to you, but we've both watched the Games all our lives and know the reality that they exist to destroy innocent, loving people like Brittany. No one decent ever wins the Games. I just want to let you know that you're not alone. Brittany asked me to dedicate a song to you, but I wanted to give you something more special than that. Enclosed you will find lyrics to a song I've written just for you and Brittany and a recording of her singing it for you. Listen to it when you need her the most, and trust that the ones who love us never truly leave us. You can always find them in your heart. I leave you with hope, courage, and love. Sincerely, B. Anderson”

Back in the Capitol the cameras had zoomed in on Santana's letter so the audience could read along with her. Burt watched as the audience slowly realized the connection between Blaine and the tribute from District 1. He wondered what the Gamemakers thought of this little twist of fate.

Santana didn't believe in fate or destiny, but she certainly knew what irony was. All she had wanted for the past year was a chance to meet this boy and thank him for being good to Brittany, and for helping her find strength when she needed it most. After her reaping, Santana actually wondered if she'd be able to track him down in the Capitol somehow. She was beyond shocked when she realized the curly haired volunteer from 12 was the same Anderson she'd been desperately hoping to meet. She wondered if Blaine had put two and two together and realized she was the same girl he had written to last year. If he even remembered doing it at all. It might not have been a significant moment in his life, but it was important to Santana. When Brittany died, Santana fell into a crippling depression. She had even contemplated taking her own life. When the letters arrived with Brittany's body, Santana realized she had to keep living. If she didn't, there would be no one to remember the beautiful girl.

Santana unfolded the last page of the letter, revealing the song Blaine had written for her to help her be strong again. She had listened to the recording thousands of times, in awe of how perfect Brittany sounded. It was more than Santana could have hoped for to remember her girlfriend by. The song was heartbreaking, and a perfect way to say farewell.

I've heard it said

That people come into our lives for a reason

Bringing something we must learn

And we are led to those

Who help us most to grow

If we let them

And we help them in return

Well I don't know if I believe that's true

But I know I'm who I am today

Because I knew you

…

It well may be

That we will never meet again

In this lifetime

So let me say before we part

So much of me

Is made of what I learned from you

You'll be with me

Like a handprint on my heart

And now whatever way our stories end

I know you have rewritten mine

By being my friend

Like a ship blown from its mooring

By a wind of the sea

Like a seed dropped by a sky bird

In a distant wood

Who can say if I've been changed for the better

But because I knew you

I have been changed for good

…