A/N: While not technically a crossover (since it doesn't use any of the characters), this is a "fusion" with Hunger Games (since it borrows the concept). You don't need to be familiar with the Hunger Games to understand. Written for the 2012 CM Bigbang on Livejournal - since I had a headline, it isn't really what I had pictured in my mind and I just kinda gave up. If you follow my fics on LJ, it's been up there for like a month, but I don't think anyone has even looked at it, so I'm a sad sad writer.
Emily met Matthew's eyes among the sea of children anxiously hoping not to hear their name called. Wordlessly, they reassured each other that it wasn't going to be his name called; she had a feeling it was more for her benefit than his...for all the opulence she was entitled to, he was really all she cared about in the world.
Her mother liked to reach to the very bottom of the glass ball to fish out a name – God forbid gravity help out someone. Really, it was just because she liked to do things differently than the other escorts, to stand out, that's why she always went with the boys first. Emily didn't complain about that because once she knew Matthew was safe, she was free to breathe again.
She could feel her heart hammering uneasily in her throat as her mother finally selected a name and her golden fingernails sliced through the seal on the slip of paper. There was a brief moment of calm before the storm as her mother's lips moved, but the words didn't seem to materialize.
There was an automatic shuffling as the crowd parted to allow the unfortunate chosen one access to the stage. From her periphery, she saw no movement and she could feel her mother starting to get impatient.
"Matthew Benton," she repeated. And that time Emily heard it. But she refused to believe it.
Jaw agape, she glanced from Matthew to her mother and back. There was no way; this simply couldn't be happening. She wasn't going to let it.
Matthew looked as disbelieving as she felt. He made no move to approach the stage until someone behind him shoved him forwards and the peacekeepers caught him by the arms and frogmarched him towards the stage.
Finally, she found her voice. She leapt forwards and attempted to swat the slip of paper out of her mother's hands as if that would somehow make it untrue. "No!" she cried, "You have to pick someone else! Anyone but him!"
Her mother's eyes turned to her and a switch controlling her artificially cheerful face was flicked, changing her expression into the cold, unfeeling glare she usually wore. "Emily, sit down," she hissed. She was to be seen and not heard, that was the lesson that had been drilled into her since she was very young, when her mother had first inherited the position as escort and refused to leave Emily alone in the Capitol, knowing her penchant for getting into trouble.
"No! Not until you choose someone else!" She attempted to push Matthew back down the steps leading up to the stage, but she wasn't quite quick enough and a peacekeeper caught her by the scruff of her neck and restrained her.
Her mother continued to ignore her pleas and ushered Matthew to the centre of the stage. She asked him a question, but Emily wasn't listening, she was too busy desperately trying to figure out some way to save her best friend.
She wasn't great at spur of the moment planning – which was part of the reason she tended to get into trouble – she instead tended towards making it up as she went along.
With all the force she could possibly muster in her small frame, she pivoted around on her heel and let her elbow make contact with the peacekeeper's solar plexus, stunning him enough to release his grip on her as he doubled over trying to catch his breath.
She took off across the stage and pushed her mother out of her path where she was making her way to the glass ball holding the names of every eligible girl in the district. Her mother toppled slightly on her six inch heels, but managed to retain her balance, but the slight detour was enough to give Emily the advantage.
She reached the reaping ball first and shoved it off its pedestal. It seemed to shatter in slow motion as it met the metal stage, shards reaching all the way to the closest rows of assembled spectators. As one, the crowd seemed to gasp in shock and disbelief.
The wind picked up, as if on cue, and blew the paper slips every which way. Emily knew there was no way her mother would be running after them – certainly not in those heels.
"If Matthew's going, I'm going with him," she declared. She turned to meet her mother's eyes, daring her to refuse to let her go.
It was a suicide mission, she knew. But she wasn't planning on going home – she was going to make sure Matthew survived because he was the only person in the world that meant anything at all to her.