Fic: That Hunger Games AU (3/3)
Part 2
Mark walks through the passageway anticipating Eduardo half way through dying, or waiting to attack. Eduardo's not there though. He's not anywhere. Mark sees the brightness from the end of the passage up ahead, but still no Eduardo.
He throws away the flashlight and walks out. He's back to their parting place this morning. Still no Eduardo.
He hears a groan behind him and turns. There's Eduardo.
Eduardo's half-leaning against the wall of Mark's passage. He must have gone to follow Mark. There's vomit around him, and he's holding his stomach. He must have drank some of the water too.
Mark's breath hitches.
Eduardo look up at the sound. His face is pale, his eyes red-rimmed.
“Mark,” He chokes out.
“Wardo,” Mark says in a shaky breath.
He's not prepared for what comes next. Eduardo pushes himself off the wall and charges towards Mark. He pushes Mark roughly up against the nearest pillar and holds a knife to his throat.
“You poisoned me!” He shouts. His voice cracks with a mix of rage and betrayal. Mark sees a hundred emotion swimming in his giant, brown eyes. He's on the verge of tears. Mark wants to look away, but when he tries Eduardo pulls him back into place.
“How could you do that?” He asks. It's a whisper this time. Broken and hurt.
“I didn't want it to come down to you and me so I --”
“You poisoned me!” He shouts again. He looks like he wants to say more, but he pulls away. He lets out a pained moan, wincing and holding his stomach again.
“Wardo?” Mark says in a sudden flurry of panic. His heart's racing. He feels fear running through his veins.
Eduardo doubles over and starts to violently cough. Blood spills out of his mouth, leaving splatters all over the floor. That's when Mark realizes he gave Eduardo the most painful death imaginable.
“No,” He whispers. This isn't what he wanted. It was supposed to be easy for Eduardo. Regret builds up inside him. He wants to cry form the frustration of it all. He wants to hold Eduardo and tell him it's gonna be okay. He really, really needs to make this okay.
“You would have won anyway,” Eduardo mutters angrily and starts coughing again. It's even worse this time, as more blood comes out. He falls to his knees groaning weakly. The sounds make Mark shrink back.
“I told you, I could never kill you.”
Mark's still pressed against the pillar, watching Eduardo's torturous death unfold. Eduardo falls on his side, shivering and whimpering. Tears are running down his face now. He's in so much pain. He's not supposed to be in pain!
Mark's heart is frantic. He wants it to stop.
“I was your only friend. You had one friend.”
Mark feels his legs give out and he slides to the ground too. There's a gigantic lump in his throat, and he's pretty sure that if he tries to talk the next thing out of his mouth will be a sob.
“Mark,” Eduardo keeps groaning. Every so often he'll cough out more blood. He can barely move. He keeps going though. Consistently repeating. Begging. “Mark. Mark. Mark.”
Mark gasps like he's breathing for the first time, and crawls over to Eduardo's body. He stops by Eduardo's face.
Eduardo's eyes feel like a stab to Mark's chest. He looks so hurt. Mark did that to him. It's so wrong. All of it is wrong.
None of this should have happened to Eduardo. None of this should have happened to any of them. This is all the Capitol's fault. Their sick game that forced all of them into this. Even volunteers. It doesn't matter why they're here, it matters that they have to be here it all. The Capitol killed Eduardo, and Erica, and Dustin. They ruined all of their chances at life. The Capitol did it all.
Eduardo's eyes ask one question.
Why?
“I have to win,” Mark says. His voice cracks as he speaks. He doesn't sound like himself. He doesn't feel like himself either. This isn't Mark Zuckerberg. Mark Zuckerberg doesn't poison his friend.
“I went after you,” Eduardo whispers. Mark can hear a strain in his voice. “I wanted it to be a mistake. I wasn't ready to say goodbye.”
He reaches his hand up. His arm shakes as he lifts it, and Mark can tell it's taking all the strength left in him to even do this. He puts his hand against Mark's cheek. It feels cold.
“Mark,” He says, barely above a whisper, and slowly pulls Mark's face down to his lips.
The tears finally break through. Mark hates that Eduardo's lips are so cold and dry. They should never feel like that. They should be alive. He should be alive.
And then he feels a sudden pain shoot through his chest. At first he thinks maybe it's him; the guilt and the shame building up and finally breaking him into pieces. But when he pulls away, he sees Eduardo's knife buried in his chest, right next to his heart. He gasps in shock.
“I have to win too,” Eduardo breathes. His hand drops to his side, and his eyes close from the relief of not having to move anymore.
Mark watches the blood pour out of his heart, along with everything he ever felt. It's over now. All that's left is for one of them to die first. It's all a matter of time.
He falls to the ground next to Eduardo, trying to make it hurt less. If he relaxes, maybe the pain will go away. He just needs to wait. He needs to fight this.
He feels something slide between his fingers. A hand. Eduardo's hand.
Mark sighs and lets his eyes slide closed. His heartbeat is slow. Almost not even there anymore.
He hears the sound of a far-off cannon. He doesn't know if it's for him or for Eduardo. He doesn't really care. All that matters now is Eduardo's cold hand pressed against his.
Mark walks through the passageway anticipating Eduardo half way through dying, or waiting to attack. Eduardo's not there though. He's not anywhere. Mark sees the brightness from the end of the passage up ahead, but still no Eduardo.
He throws away the flashlight and walks out. He's back to their parting place this morning. Still no Eduardo.
He hears a groan behind him and turns. There's Eduardo.
Eduardo's half-leaning against the wall of Mark's passage. He must have gone to follow Mark. There's vomit around him, and he's holding his stomach. He must have drank some of the water too.
Mark's breath hitches.
Eduardo look up at the sound. His face is pale, his eyes red-rimmed.
“Mark,” He chokes out.
“Wardo,” Mark says in a shaky breath.
He's not prepared for what comes next. Eduardo pushes himself off the wall and charges towards Mark. He pushes Mark roughly up against the nearest pillar and holds a knife to his throat.
“You poisoned me!” He shouts. His voice cracks with a mix of rage and betrayal. Mark sees a hundred emotion swimming in his giant, brown eyes. He's on the verge of tears. Mark wants to look away, but when he tries Eduardo pulls him back into place.
“How could you do that?” He asks. It's a whisper this time. Broken and hurt.
“I didn't want it to come down to you and me so I --”
“You poisoned me!” He shouts again. He looks like he wants to say more, but he pulls away. He lets out a pained moan, wincing and holding his stomach again.
“Wardo?” Mark says in a sudden flurry of panic. His heart's racing. He feels fear running through his veins.
Eduardo doubles over and starts to violently cough. Blood spills out of his mouth, leaving splatters all over the floor. That's when Mark realizes he gave Eduardo the most painful death imaginable.
“No,” He whispers. This isn't what he wanted. It was supposed to be easy for Eduardo. Regret builds up inside him. He wants to cry form the frustration of it all. He wants to hold Eduardo and tell him it's gonna be okay. He really, really needs to make this okay.
“You would have won anyway,” Eduardo mutters angrily and starts coughing again. It's even worse this time, as more blood comes out. He falls to his knees groaning weakly. The sounds make Mark shrink back.
“I told you, I could never kill you.”
Mark's still pressed against the pillar, watching Eduardo's torturous death unfold. Eduardo falls on his side, shivering and whimpering. Tears are running down his face now. He's in so much pain. He's not supposed to be in pain!
Mark's heart is frantic. He wants it to stop.
“I was your only friend. You had one friend.”
Mark feels his legs give out and he slides to the ground too. There's a gigantic lump in his throat, and he's pretty sure that if he tries to talk the next thing out of his mouth will be a sob.
“Mark,” Eduardo keeps groaning. Every so often he'll cough out more blood. He can barely move. He keeps going though. Consistently repeating. Begging. “Mark. Mark. Mark.”
Mark gasps like he's breathing for the first time, and crawls over to Eduardo's body. He stops by Eduardo's face.
Eduardo's eyes feel like a stab to Mark's chest. He looks so hurt. Mark did that to him. It's so wrong. All of it is wrong.
None of this should have happened to Eduardo. None of this should have happened to any of them. This is all the Capitol's fault. Their sick game that forced all of them into this. Even volunteers. It doesn't matter why they're here, it matters that they have to be here it all. The Capitol killed Eduardo, and Erica, and Dustin. They ruined all of their chances at life. The Capitol did it all.
Eduardo's eyes ask one question.
Why?
“I have to win,” Mark says. His voice cracks as he speaks. He doesn't sound like himself. He doesn't feel like himself either. This isn't Mark Zuckerberg. Mark Zuckerberg doesn't poison his friend.
“I went after you,” Eduardo whispers. Mark can hear a strain in his voice. “I wanted it to be a mistake. I wasn't ready to say goodbye.”
He reaches his hand up. His arm shakes as he lifts it, and Mark can tell it's taking all the strength left in him to even do this. He puts his hand against Mark's cheek. It feels cold.
“Mark,” He says, barely above a whisper, and slowly pulls Mark's face down to his lips.
The tears finally break through. Mark hates that Eduardo's lips are so cold and dry. They should never feel like that. They should be alive. He should be alive.
And then he feels a sudden pain shoot through his chest. At first he thinks maybe it's him; the guilt and the shame building up and finally breaking him into pieces. But when he pulls away, he sees Eduardo's knife buried in his chest, right next to his heart. He gasps in shock.
“I have to win too,” Eduardo breathes. His hand drops to his side, and his eyes close from the relief of not having to move anymore.
Mark watches the blood pour out of his heart, along with everything he ever felt. It's over now. All that's left is for one of them to die first. It's all a matter of time.
He falls to the ground next to Eduardo, trying to make it hurt less. If he relaxes, maybe the pain will go away. He just needs to wait. He needs to fight this.
He feels something slide between his fingers. A hand. Eduardo's hand.
Mark sighs and lets his eyes slide closed. His heartbeat is slow. Almost not even there anymore.
He hears the sound of a far-off cannon. He doesn't know if it's for him or for Eduardo. He doesn't really care. All that matters now is Eduardo's cold hand pressed against his.