Survival Of The Fittest

Joachim shrugged against the rough bark of the tree as Ami pantomimed his attempt at suicide. There was something distasteful about that, but he didn't have the energy to care. At least, if she was that blunt, there was a better chance that she'd kill him.

She looked to Paris, and then to him. What did he do, he thought.

There were a few answers he could have given. Lured at least one girl to her death. Tried to lure more, perhaps. Kept his hands clean and his conscience clear as the bodies piled around him.

He didn't care about any of that though. She might have, but he didn't. There was only one thing that Paris did that mattered.

"He took something from me."

Joachim swallowed as he glanced down at the revolver.

"I thought killing him might bring it back."

Ami frowned. Paris didn't kill anyone. At least, she was certain that he didn't. Joachim killed several people. So what exactly did Paris take from Joachim? It didn't make any sense to her.

Then Ami suddenly realized - she really didn't give a shit.

She never liked Paris. He just rubbed her the wrong way. He was no Mallory, certainly. And even if she liked him, Joachim had a reason for doing it. Ami had no reason to doubt that, because at least he had a reason.

But that didn't change the fact that Paris was somebody's son. She gave a shit about that.

Ami arrived at the tree trunk Paris's corpse sat. She got onto her knees, Maynard's gun and her bags at her side. Her bag was getting beat up. She'd figure something out, later. For now, she just stared at Paris, sighing.

"The Lord giveth, I suppose."

Ami pulled another one of her dress shirts and threw it over his face. There was only one left, and as she smoothed her hand over the surface, she realized she forgot to cover Maynard's face. If she went back to see Deanna, she promised herself. She'd do it then. She promised.

Ami stood up. She left the bags where they were but she took Maynard's gun. She looked over her shoulder.

"Killing Paris  wasn't going to bring them back." Ami said. "I'm not judging you, just... saying."

He didn't expect to laugh. There was no stopping it when Ami misunderstood him, though. In a way, it felt nice.

"There is no them."

Joachim reached over and plucked the shirt from Paris's face. "He didn't kill anyone. He was too intelligent for that. That's what he had me for. That's what he had Cho for. That's all we were."

That same, contented look stared back at him as he looked over his fallen idol. She could never understand.

"I want to hate him for that, I think. But I can't. That's what he took from me."

He shrugged again and settled back against the tree, holding the shirt over the gun in his lap.

"It doesn't matter. They lost, he lost, I'll lose. That's the nature of the game."

That's how it's supposed to be.

Ami didn't mean to smile. It was insulting, how quickly he laughed. She stopped smiling when he said there was no 'them'. Then Joachim took Ami's spare shirt, and she almost stopped him, almost, but then he started to explain.

When Joachim said 'Cho', Ami immediately leap to Phoebe Cho. But Phoebe... did she even go on the trip? Her name never popped up on the announcements. Then Ami realized that he was probably talking about Sunny Cho, short for Sunshine. Who named their kid Sunshine? Whatever. Sunny killed someone. And Joachim killed Sunny. So they were in cahoots, with Paris, allegedly.

But that conclusion brought even more questions. Why did Joachim kill Sunny if they were working together? And if Joachim was working with Paris for so long, if Joachim was a team player, then why would he kill Paris at all? None of it made sense to her.

Joachim also said Paris lost. He said he'll lose, too. The nature of the 'game'. Her eyes were instinctively drawn to a camera planted in another tree opposite Paris. It turned away the second she made eye-contact with it. Ami grimaced.

"This isn't a game," Ami said to herself.

Ami didn't say anything for a long time. She just stood there by Paris, looking at Joachim from the corner of her eye. Really, what was there to say?  She could just as easily pick her bags back up and walk away. After all, it wasn't like Joachim was going to come after... her...

...

"So did Paris ask you to kill people? Or did you choose to do it?"

As much as Ami disliked Paris, she could not imagine him as a mob boss.

Asked.

What a charming notion.

Joachim shook his head slowly. "Jaq asked me to kill. Paris expected me to, no asking required."

It occurred to him that Paris might have been the first person he killed for himself. He wasn't entirely sure of that, though. The sheer compulsion of it, the residual pointlessness, Paris's unmistakable look of acceptance and satisfaction...

Perhaps this was all part of whatever plan he had. Or perhaps he was just grasping for something, anything to justify the last few days. There was no energy in the effort, though. He'd given up.

The revolver gleamed in his lap. He opened the chamber slowly and let the bullets spill out into his hand. Five.

Part of him was still wondering why he didn't load the gun fully. Maybe the chance of failure had enticed him. Maybe he'd left it empty for the same reason he'd let Rosemary live, so many days ago.

"A game," he whispered. "Just a silly game."

"Jaq?"

Ami didn't know that name. She knew Cho but she did not know Jaq. She didn't consider Jaquilyn Locke, a girl she barely knew, a girl that Garrett Wilde killed. The same Garrett Wilde who basically told her that Sara's death was okay because she was trying to protect Ruby. As much as Ami told herself she was considering every possibility, every avenue of thought, doing so would be nigh impossible. Human error and subjectivity saw to that.

She didn't want to know Joachim's life story. She was just curious. She was much more interested in what Joachim said as he fiddled with the revolver. Five bullets? Luck must have been on his side. She could barely hear Joachim but she heard the word 'game'. So she knew he heard her. Whether it was about the 'game' or the little stunt Joachim pulled several minutes before, Ami could not tell. She just assumed it was the former.

"You know I'm right."

Ami's face turned grave, like she had a nasty taste in her mouth.

"This isn't a game. These people don't care about money or ratings. They only care about results."

"The game," he stated a little louder, "is all about the results."

One bullet slipped back into the chamber. His eyes remained focused on the barrel as he spun the chamber around.

"Isn't it?"

It wasn't a game. Ami wanted to tell Joachim every little observation she made hours ago. He'd understand, then. But she knew they were watching, too, and her little theory wasn't exactly kosher. So she kept quiet.

Until Joachim loaded the gun again. One bullet, by the looks of it.

Was he going to keep trying until he lost? Ami rolled her eyes. Christ.

"Look. Could you wait? I've already seen one person shoot themselves, I really don't want to see another."

Another laugh. Again, she missed the point.

"You misunderstand. I apologize."

The barrel of the gun rose up in the direction of her voice. He didn't even look as he pulled the trigger.

Click.

Finally, his eyes rose to stare into hers. The gun wavered in the air at the edge of his vision.

"I didn't win."

He threw the gun to her feet.

"Your turn."

Did...

Did Joachim just try to shoot her?

Yes.

Yes he did.

Ami felt the gun hit the toe of her sneakers, but it took a minute for the shock to wear off. When she finally looked down, she realized that, yes, he just threw her his revolver.

He said it was her turn. Immediately she knew what he meant by 'her turn'.

Her blood turned to ice.

"You're insane."

Ami stared at Joachim, wide-eyed, slack-jawed, head shaking.

"You're..." She swallowed again. "This is insane. I'm not... I can't."

Joachim kept looking into her eyes. Slowly, his fingers moved down to his pocket. The knife slide into his hands. He made no effort to hide it.

"Your turn," he whispered. "One way, or another."

His fingers traced along the hilt as he looked down at the gun on the floor, then back to her. "We're playing the game. You can't change that. The only thing you can control is the result."

He nodded once more to the gun. "Your turn."

Ami saw him pull out a knife. She wasn't sure whether he was threatening her or not.

She picked up Joachim's with her left hand, leaving Maynard's gun near her feet. Staring at it, Ami was almost tempted to open the barrel, just to see. Curiosity did not get the better of her in that regard.

She didn't know if she could do it.

What Joachim was asking, it was crazy. He wanted her to put her life on the line - and for what? Was he getting a kick out of it? Ami was not his little toy. She wanted to kill herself before. She almost did it too. But this was completely different, she was putting her life on the line with this stupid game. She wasn't going to do it. She didn't even care if he was going to stab her, she -

- brought the barrel up and pulled the trigger.

Click. "Fuck."

The sound of the empty chamber nearly made Ami double over. She staggered on her feet, nodding her head again and again. Her breath was shallow and it came in quick bursts of air. Her eyes were so heavy but she could not blink. Did she just try to shoot Joachim? Yes, yes she did. And she failed.

"Okay," she wheezed.

She stood there for a minute. Then she threw the gun back over.

"Okay, I'm fine, go ahead."

She wasn't fine. Not even a little bit.

He wasn't dead. That was disappointing.

"Very well."

The knife lay in his lap as he grabbed the revolver in both hands, drawing it up to point into Ami's forehead.

Click.

A soft breeze blew across his body. He shivered, both from the sudden chill, and from the anticipation. Three down, three to go.

He let the gun fly back to Ami's feet, and rested against the tree. This time. This time.

She cursed herself when Joachim threw the gun back over to her. This was crazy. Absolutely nuts. What would her parents think if they saw her doing this?  Ami was going to get herself killed!

...

Ami raised the gun. Pulled the trigger.

Click.

"..."



"Just..."

The voices were not voices, but one of them was screaming. Ami pressed a hand to her heart. It was pounding so hard, she swore it was going to explode. She was shaking like a scared doe and... she gave him the gun back anyway.

"Just do it. I don't care."

Maybe Joachim would be the one to finally punish her.

"Hmm."

The gun felt heavier than before. What would it mean, if he killed her? What would it change?

"It's fifty-fifty, isn't it?"

What would he do if she died as well?


What would it mean to win?

Click.

Joachim smiled. He'd never know.

"Goodbye. It was fun."

The gun went sailing back to her feet. His fingers gripped the knife tight as he waited, and watched. The game was over. He lost.