Dean was already awake when Sam finally opened his eyes to the sunlight that lit up his small room. Dean's eyebrows were set in a way which indicated that he was in deep thought; he looked worried. Sam groaned and stretched, sitting up in his bed with the cold air nipping at his exposed skin.
"Today's the day," Sam muttered. "You ready?"
"I'm going to have to be." Dean's husky voice replied.
"Yeah."
There was much to be said that just wasn't, whether it was because the brothers couldn't express how they felt or because it wasn't necessary or appropriate for their situation. District 12, which used to be called Kansas before the Uprising, had 250 people entered into the reaping. The odds that him or Dean would be picked were immensely small, so why were they worrying so much?
The truth was that they both had a feeling that they buried deep into the pit of their stomachs as much as they could. They just had a bad feeling that either they, or someone they knew, would be picked. They had watched The Hunger Games every year and witnessed how it changed people. It made the humanity of people look so small and non-existent as they slaughtered each other for no particular reason. What was the point of the Games? Why was this happening?
Sam got up, washed and dressed in the smartest clothes he had; a button up shirt, suit jacket and pressed pants. District 12 was known for the distribution and production of firearms and ammunition and unlike most of the other districts, it was fairly wealthy. But unfortunately, it was not wealthy enough to be totally without poverty. But the Winchester's had somehow always been on the more wealthy side of the District.
After procrastinating for an hour on going out to see Dean, Sam walked out to the main room and saw Dean sitting on a chair with the same worried expression on his face. Sitting next to Dean, Sam nudged him slightly.
"Hey, you know it'll be alright. We'll be alright." He said, with a small smile on his face. Be strong for Dean, he thought.
"Don't give me this big sappy chick-flick speech, Sammy. Those bastards won't pick us." Dean replied with a chuckle, but inside he wasn't so sure. He felt as if today would not be a good idea.
The brothers sat in silence for a while, just soaking in how they felt at this exact moment, how the room looked, the way in which the sunlight poured in their windows and lay in patterns on their tired and ragged floor. It could be the last time one of them would be in this house; Tributes were usually whisked away immediately after the Reaping. They basked in the warm atmosphere that the room gave as sunlight danced off the chairs and onto their bare skin and for a mere second, they forgot about the evil that occurred in the Districts, the Capitol, and everything that ever happened in the Games. It was just them, Sam and Dean Winchester, in their small house, being warmed by the prancing sun that poured through the windows.
However that thought only lasted a second and Dean stood up quickly and cleared his throat. "Time to go." He growled in distaste before storming out the door, leaving Sam alone with his heart pounding.

As they got closer to the location of the Reaping they began to walk alongside more people that had the same panic-stricken expression painted on their faces. They looked like they were in deep thought, or holding back the urge to cry and it pained Sam to see. They briefly greeted the other families they knew and shared the same sympathetic look as they passed by.
The brothers went through the same process as ever; their finger was pricked and they were identified as Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester. They lined up in the same row, next to the same people, looking at the same stage. The atmosphere was sullen and sad as a colourful and eccentric woman danced up onto stage with an aura of happiness, pleasure and excitement. Her hair was bright pink and her makeup was white as a sheet. Next to Sam, Dean laughed and exhaled, saying something about her being a "bat-crazy bitch".
"What's her name again?" Sam murmured, leaning into Dean slightly as the crowd began to go quiet.
"Effie. She's pretty much the Capitol's bitch."

"Quiet down, now!" Effie's voice boomed through the portable Capitol speakers and the crowd went silent. "Hello and welcome to the 76th Hunger Games!" The crowd both stared and glared with contempt as she smiled and clapped enthusiastically. "Now, to start off today's Reaping," she sighed lovingly, "The annual Capitol film." Audible groans ricocheted around the crowd and Sam and Dean tried to look as disrespectful as possible, slouching and groaning with every line that the film spat out with expressions that were comical to the people around them as small giggles were heard.
"Utter bullshit," Dean muttered.
Up on stage, Effie glared at the crowd before going back to her over-excited demeanor.
"Now, for the tributes! Ladies first, as always." Effie pranced over to the large glass bowl which was filled with white slips of paper, containing the unfortunate name of this year's tribute.
The brothers could hear everyone in the crowd holding their breath with sullen anticipation. A name rang out into the air.
"Charlie Bradbury."
Dean and Sam's mouths dropped and Dean's heart stopped. "No," he whispered before yelling, "No!"
Charlie Bradbury was a family friend who Dean and Sam had known since they were children, and to lose her, they would have nothing left. Sam looked on, horrified, as Charlie was dragged onto stage; Dean was staring at the ground. God damn it. Damn it! He thought as she tried to compose himself.
"…And for the boys!" Effie's high-pitched voice rang out once more. The brothers inhaled sharply and both stood up straight, holding their breath. Not today, not today.
The crowd was silent again as Effie slowly opened the small piece of paper, staring at the for a moment before taking a breath and leaning towards the microphone.
"Sam Winchester."
Sam's ears started to ring and his knees felt weak, and before he could process what had just been said he was pulled out of the crowd by a Peacekeeper and shoved down the aisle that was made by the crowd. He started to become dizzy and disorientated, this couldn't be happening to him!
He was shoved onto stage and Effie grabbed his hand, as well as Charlie's, and smiled. "Well! Here we are. The tributes for-"
Dean broke through the crowd of stunned people and ran towards the stage, tripping as he got near it. He no longer had the energy to get up, so he perched himself on his hands and knees.
"I volunteer!"
The crowd gasped and Dean yelled louder.
"I volunteer as a tribute!"