Chuck shouldn't be here. It's all he can think about every waking hour and every other moment that's spent catching a few seconds of sleep. It's not often, because surviving is the other prominent thing on his mind, but he can't stop thinking about how unfair this is.

I shouldn't be here. I already did this. I'm a legacy. I'm a Victor. I won - why the fuck am I here, why do I have to murder again?

They're questions that remain unanswered and will stay unanswered for the foreseeable future - and hell, he may not even make it out of here so the energy put into these questions is best conserved for other purposes - like living as long as possible.

He's ended up with Raleigh Becket, an older victor than him, and he can't say that he's all that pleased about it. Becket's experienced, sure, but he's not the person Chuck would've picked, the main reason being that if they make it down to the wire?

There's no way Chuck's winning out against him. Chuck's dead before the blow has even come.

He can't sleep tonight; Raleigh's on watch but Chuck can only curl up on the ground and wrap his arms around his knees and scowl, eyes fixed on the dirt. He's hot, he's hungry, he feels sick to his stomach and he's got blood underneath his nails that isn't his.

Not for the first time, he considers giving up.