On the morning of the Reaping for the 74th annual Hunger Games, Kurt had woken early.

He'd slipped out of bed and stared at his reflection in the mirror for several minutes longer than he would have on any other day. He'd spent a couple of extra minutes straightening the blankets on his bed, tucking the sheets in perfectly.

He knew there was a chance it could be his last morning in the home he had lived in his whole life.

Although there were a couple of hundred different names that could be drawn out that day at the Reaping, Kurt had been signing up for the tesserae ever since he was eligible. And now, when his seventeenth birthday had come and gone, his name was in that bowl many more times than he felt comfortable with. Even though Kurt was an only child and his mother had passed away years before, it was still a struggle to find enough food for both him and his father. His father's health condition made it impossible for him to keep a job, and so Kurt had to support both of them.

So on the day of the Reaping, Kurt couldn't help but think the odds were not in his favour.

He'd spent the morning at the Hob, talking with Greasy Sae, selling the eggs from his father's chooks. He'd run into a couple of his friends from school, Sam and Mike, and had wished them the best of luck. Being from the wealthier part of town, Kurt knew their chances of getting picked were quite slim.

Kurt had then walked to the Meadow, nodding at Mercedes and Rachel as he passed them on his way to meet Blaine. He had stood in the Meadow with his boyfriend, looking around at District 12, trying to clear all thoughts of the impending Hunger Games from his mind.

In the late morning, he had headed back home to talk to his father before the Reaping.

"Kurt," his dad had said, "you know that I love you, right?"

He had told his father not to worry, that he would be fine. And then it was time to get ready and they had made their way to the Square, dressed in their finest clothes.

After hugging his father goodbye, Kurt had again met up with Blaine, and the two had then stood quietly together, holding hands. Blaine's family did not live in the Seam, and so Kurt knew that his boyfriend's name was only in the bowl six times, as they had no need for tesserae.

At exactly two o'clock, the mayor had stepped onto the stage to officially begin the Reaping for the 74th annual Hunger Games. Kurt and all the other twelve to eighteen year olds of District 12 had listened impatiently to the history of Panem, anxiously awaiting their fate.

And then the time came.

Effie Trinket, pink hair and all, had stepped up to the microphone to announce the "winners" of District 12. The name 'Santana Lopez' was drawn out of the girl's bowl, and Kurt watched as the dark-haired girl had walked through the parted crowd and taken her place up on the stage, eyes brimming with tears. Although she was a small girl, Kurt knew she was a fighter.

And then Effie Trinket's hand had reached into the boy's bowl, hovering for a second before snatching up a slip of paper.

Kurt had squeezed Blaine's hand tighter, holding his breath. Not Kurt Hummel, not Kurt Hummel, not Kurt Hummel...

"Kurt Hummel."

Kurt had felt his breath catch in his throat, his stomach drop. He had felt Blaine turn towards him, tears in his eyes, shaking his head.

"You can't go, Kurt," Blaine had begged, "You'll never make it!"

Kurt had sighed. If he was going to die, he at least wanted Blaine of all people to have some faith in him.

"You think I don't know that, Blaine? I have to go! I don't have anyone to take my place."

Blaine had hesitated, and then whispered, "I can't, Kurt, I'm sorry."

Kurt had known it was selfish of him to wish for someone to volunteer to take his place. It wasn't that he had wanted Blaine to, but he would have loved to know that someone would be willing to do it for him. Kurt knew that if Blaine's name had been drawn out, he would have volunteered in a heartbeat, no matter how scared he was.

Kurt had let go of his boyfriend's hand and walked towards the stage where Effie Trinket was waiting. He had glanced at his father in the audience, and seen the despair written across his face. He had wondered for a second what would happen to his father now that he was not there to look after him.

Just as Kurt had been about to step up onto the stage, a voice had shouted out from behind him.

"Kurt, wait! I volunteer!"

Kurt had paused, recognising the voice, but not expecting it.

He'd turned around and watched as David Karofsky had pushed his way through the crowd of teenagers, coming to a stop in front of him.

"I volunteer," he'd said again.

Kurt had been speechless as he looked at Dave. They had never really been close friends, but had often helped each other out around the Seam. Dave's family consisted of his mother and six kids, four of which were in Reaping age, and they struggled just as much as Kurt and his father, if not more.

A hush had fallen over the crowd, a silent respect for the two boys at the stage.

"Dave, no, I can't let you do that" Kurt had said. And David had simply shaken his head and smiled slightly at him.

"I already have, Kurt. Once a volunteer steps forward, that's it, it's done. Your dad needs you here. District 12 needs you here."

"David, no."

Effie had then interrupted the boys, asking for Dave's name.

Dave had looked at Kurt one last time before climbing the steps onto the stage and answering Effie.

"Well then, ladies and gentlemen, your tributes for the 74th annual Hunger Games - Santana Lopez and David Karofsky!"

Kurt had not believed what had just happened. Someone was willing to sacrifice their own life for him.

And he just couldn't understand why. Although, when he thought about it, he may have done the same thing if Dave's name had come out of the bowl. Even though the two had never been very close, Kurt had always felt a sort of connection to Dave, and he'd just always been there - when Kurt went out to the Hob, when he was doing work around the house, when he was walking around the Seam.

But the thought that Dave was willing to sacrifice his life to save Kurt's was almost too much for him to bear.

Although Dave's strong build and his fitness could possibly help him, the Hunger Games were still a place where even the fittest and the biggest went down like flies.

As Dave had looked down and smiled slightly from the stage, he had hoped that he could hang on – for himself and the rest of District 12.

And now all Kurt could do was hope.

Disclaimer: Glee and The Hunger Games do not belong to me.

I'd love to know what you think!

Also, I am planning on writing a Hunger Games story based on this in Karofsky's view, so keep an eye out for that if you'd like to read it.

Thank you for reading!