Blaine watched numbly as Colin crashed to the floor at his feet. He stood staring at the dead tribute below him in a haze of pain and exhaustion. The rain was still pouring heavily on the scene but all seemed silent. 

The bloody blade slipped out of his hands and fell soundlessly to the ground. Blaine was faintly aware that it should have clattered against the rocks below but all he could focus on was the way his breath wheezed in and out of his battered chest, fighting its way down his bruised throat and struggling into his tired lungs. 

All he knew was that he had to keep breathing, to keep fighting.

Keep breathing 

In

Out

In

O-o-out 

He let his head roll back, face upturned towards the stormy sky. Freezing droplets fell against his heated skin as the thunder rolled above. But he was still immersed in silence. 

Just breathe 

In

Out 

In

Out

Keep breathing, keep fighting. 

In

Out 

Blinking the water from his hazel eyes, Blaine winced as he straightened up. A canon sounded through the air the Blaine knew he had to leave quickly before the hovercraft came to collect Colin's body.

Three tributes left.

One arm hanging uselessly  and the other clutching the almost mortal wound in his side, Blaine took another breath and stumbled hastily away, not even bothering to recollect his knife knowing that if he faced another tribute now it would be hopeless. 

Life seemed to be the time between breaths and the seconds between steps. He just continued walking long after the hovercraft whipped the branches of the trees and disappeared beyond the clouds.

His body screamed and Blaine listened, stopping for a second. All he wanted to do was lie on the ground, use the soaking leaves as pillows, ignore the rain pouring above, ignore everyone watching, and just fall asleep. Just fall asleep. He was tired. So so tired. His eyes could barely stay open. Lashes seemed leaden with the weight of the word and they just wanted to fall shut.

But no.

Keep breathing.

Keep fighting.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Shaking his head to clear the fog from his mind, Blaine blinked his eyes quickly, commanding himself to wake up. It wasn't over yet.

Dawn was just starting to break over the arena, the sun barely noticeable through the grey clouds. The rain had slowed but was still falling heavily.

Soaked to the bone, Blaine shivered. The loss of blood and freezing rain made his body weak and Blaine knew just how vulnerable he was at the moment. How prone he is to an attack. One tribute. One animal. One obstacle and it was over. It was all over.

Hopelessness washed over him in a wave and he felt the urge to just crumple up and sob. And just cry. Cry until it was all gone. Cry until it was over. Just cry. He wanted to just curl up and give up. His heart couldn't take it, his body sure as hell couldn't take it, and his mind was running out of answers.

Everything felt detached, as if he was watching the gloomy scene from above spin out of focus.  He clung to one thought, a thread that slowly hardened and enlarged to a binding chain that secured him to Earth. 

Kurt.

Pull yourself together Blaine, he chided himself silently.

Take another breath.

In

Out

And another.

In

Out

Just breathe.

The flog slowly began to fade away. The world was still blurred, but he could think a little. The pain was a constant reminder that he was alive and held him awake. In this moment of vague clarity, Blaine listened. Listened to the pitter patter of the raindrops against the forest floor. Listened to the low rumble of the thunder that rolled above his head. Listened to the bubbling of the rushing water...

What?

Rushing water?

Blaine's eyes flashed open and he looked to the source, eyes widening in horror as he took in the waves of water lapping the floor a few meters away, edging ever closer.

The arena was flooding.

Adrenaline resurged through his veins and instantly he knew he had to get to higher ground. And fast.

Eyes tilted up to the highest mountain in the arena, not so far off, and he began to move. As he stumbled toward the mountain, feet somehow managing to lead him in the right direction, Blaine realized that this was the Gamemakers giving him a chance. Giving him a chance to survive. They were driving the last three tributes together for a final confrontation. They weren't going to drag it out and let him die from his injuries in some cave somewhere. Oh no.

After all, where's the fun in that?

It was going to be one last fight. One final act to end the twenty-third annual Hunger Games. The victor would be the first to the top of the mountain. At the top of the world.

How fitting.

And there was a chance, maybe a one chance in a million, but still a chance that he could survive.

A small chance that he could win.

That he could go home.

That he could sing another song.

That he could see Kurt again.

It was a small chance, but he was going to take it.

Or literally die trying.