a chance. |ems ss au gift|

i a i n .

He couldn't count the number of times he woke from his bed in home, eyes locked on the sun rising high into the horizon. It was a moment he longed for, yet it felt so far away. Iain knew what had to happen the moment his name was called, but not once did he imagine himself actually killing someone. It came in a small burst right after Cecilia died. Leaving her body behind as the fire smoldered was one of the hardest things, watching her flesh melt from her bones as the fire grew larger, crying beside her begging for some miracle - all of it was just a ghost in the past, but not a second goes by without him thinking of her. She taught him a lot, and it took the moments inside the training center to realize he was stronger than anyone ever gave him credit for. Leaving her behind destroyed him on the inside until a man stood beside him. Atticus Manor of district three tried to comfort him, but Iain wasn't sure what to do. He could've killed the crippled boy while he was down and out, he could've kicked him to the curb because his life didn't matter, yet he didn't, and that in itself meant the world to him.

Iain couldn't stand seeing the two lovers together anymore - why should he stay with them, and care about their safety when they never once cared for him? But seeing them die only tore through him even more. Yet he promised Kirito he would fight through each day, he promised Katelyn he would try, and Iain swore to Harbinger he wouldn't go down without giving one hundred percent. His mind wandered to the letter he wrote his cousin, and he prayed with all his might that he would take it from Katelyn and shred it so nobody other than those two knew it exist. But with each passing day it tore at his heart, his soul, his mind, but at the same time it gave him the strength he needed.

But not once was his hands covered in blood until the evening of the sixth day.

His spear embedding itself into the neck of Ezero haunted his every waking second. He tried telling himself it was okay, that it had to happen. All he wanted was the chance to see another sunrise, and he got it, but it wasn't what he wanted. Knowing that he had killed, that he had ended the life of a boy trying to live - Iain wished he would've died in his place. He wished that it didn't matter anymore because he had ruined his life. Little by little his soul tore from his body while his mind carried him forward. He watched Ceci cry herself to sleep after killing Delta, and now he understood the feeling. Fourteen year old's weren't meant to kill, nobody was meant to kill, however, it all was safe inside the arena. Everyone was given a chance to live, and it was up to them to keep it.

And now he was one of the last two alive. Twenty-two cannons blared through the air. Only two remained, and Iain didn't want to look Atticus in the eyes as he tried to make it home. The fourteen year old, crippled boy from eleven wanted to continue the legacy Katelyn started three years ago. Iain had only dreamed of wearing a crown even then it was a crown of flowers; not a crown painted red. Dried blood crusted his the tip of his spear, and he knew more would come, yet he hoped for a miracle, a quick and clean kill, something nobody had to suffer through.

Cecilia had suffered while she burned alive.

Ezero's was quick and easy because he didn't mean to do it. Iain was supposed to die, he was supposed to fall victim to the duo, but somehow luck was on his side.

And he only returned the favor when killing the rest, but none deserved to die.

Twenty-two faces infiltrated his mind. Carrita, his too young district partner. She met her fate way too soon, yet the other twenty-one have also. Nobody deserved to die. Why was he given the chance to live while the others fell victim to the games? Why was he fighting for a chance, fifty-fifty shot of winning or dying. He was given a chance, and now he had even more chances.

Trudging along, one foot after the other, his twisted leg dragging behind him, he moved through the arena. His eyes wide, his heart racing, and his temples throbbed. The hunger pains had gone away, yet the dry patch on his tongue grew larger with each passing second - you're almost done. Shaggy hair plastered to his dirty face, sweat rolled from his brow, crud caked along his hands; this was it.

He turned, tightening his grip on the spear he had used since day one. Atticus stood in front of him, and Iain knew this was the end. Each breath caught in the back of his throat, every hair stood on end as his free hand shook violently. Just one more kill, that was all he needed to see his brother again, to see Kirito, Harbinger, Kate.

Who would've thought the crippled child from eleven would've made it this far? They had counted him out, but Iain had the will to survive.

But he wouldn't fight, not unless he had to. Iain was tired, and afraid, yet he put a half grin across his face as he faced the only other man standing. "Why didn't you do it when you had the chance?" A heavy sigh left his chest; "This could've been over, you could've won and gone home, but here we are." His voice lowered with every word, and he kept looking around expecting someone, or something to dart forward to kill them both.

His shoulders shrugged forward. The fourteen year old held his balance on the spear as a single tear slid down the side of his face leaving a streak in the dirt and blood.

"It's just us. Me and you."

And it was a shame, that one of them had to die.

credit to rave