[The moment he hears that name, a wave of rage floods through him. Assassin. Of course he'd put her up to this, after turning down his honest request to fight, the anger showing past his pain and despair.

But it fades, because - as much as he hates Assassin for doing this, Mary is in front of him now, and he's not mad at her.

He could never be mad at her.]

I don't - Hate you -

[Already, he's starting to feel cold - she's knicked every major organ in there, and he's bleeding out at a decent rate. It won't be long until he starts shivering, and as she lays her head on his chest, she can probably hear his heart begin to speed up.]

I hate...that he made you...choose this.

[He can't lie to himself and say that it doesn't hurt, to know that she chose Assassin over him - especially not when he's tried to be there, always accepted her, despite his distance...

...Then again, it was probably his distance, his attempts to keep away from other people that landed him like this.

He makes a noise inbetween a sob and a laugh, shakily raising a bloodstained hand to cover his eyes.]

I knew...I'd eventually die. I wanted it...for a long time, you know? Before this Game.

[He's actually laughing now, despairingly, though the pain and anguish, a horrible, broken sound.]

It's...what I deserve, isn't it? To be killed by...someone I trusted...right when I actually wanted to live.