A/N- Hiya :) Thanks for clicking onto my story! I'm hoping to upload a new chapter at least once a week. Like always, feel free to let me know if I've made a mistake in spelling, grammar or if a sentence dines't make sense. Please leave a review, so I know whether you enjoyed the chapter :) Anyway, that's my author's note done, so on with the story...
Disclaimer- I don't own Supernatural or The Hunger Games, just a fan :)
Dean opened his eyes slowly, not wanting this day to be here already. Today was the day of the reaping. He glanced over to Sam, who was curled up in the adjacent bed, and sighed. It was only two years until Sam would have his name placed into the bowl, something which Dean really wasn't looking forward to.
Dean reluctantly rolled out of bed and walked over to the dining table, being greeted to the sight of their father was face down asleep on the table, gripping a nearly empty bottle of some sort of drink. Dean picked up the few bottles that lay empty on the floor, his father must have gone through a lot that night, something Dean wasn't surprised about. There were two days that John always drunk himself to oblivion; the night before the reaping and the day of their Mom's death.
"Dean?" A quiet voice came from behind, making Dean jump. Dean turned around and saw his little brother, Sam, stood behind him. Dean suppressed a grin as Sam shoved his mop of brown hair out his eyes. He had told him it would just get in his face if he didn't cut it.
"What?" Dean asked, moving over to cupboard to get some breakfast for them.
"What happens if you get picked?" Sam asked him.
Dean rolled his eyes. "You ask me this every year. I won't get picked" Dean reassured Sam, but tried to reassure himself too. Perhaps if he said it enough times, he won't be picked.
"Your name is in there more than most peoples" Sam reminded him. Living in District Four, there was little poverty. Being one of the richest districts meant that the majority of the children did not collect the tesserae. But the Winchesters were among the poorest in District Four. Their mom died in a house fire when Dean was four and Sam was only six months old. After her death, their dad had stopped working, overcome with grief. John would go to work for a while, but he was unreliable and didn't turn up, so he kept losing his job. Dean didn't blame him though and it wasn't like he never tried. But this meant Dean had to put food on the table when he was just six years old, taking almost full responsibility of Sam.
All the children learnt about the fishing trade almost as soon as they were able to walk. In schools, they were taught different techniques on how catch fish, and other sea food, and anything else to do with the fishing industry. But children weren't allowed to work until they were twelve, and only part time after school, so Dean had to find other ways to get food onto the table. He illegally worked on a boat as a deckhand, for a partially descent wage. But he would also poach the fish that were near the beach, or any animals that tried to feed on the fish, using his trident to spear them. But occasionally, when things got truly desperate, he took the 'five fingered discount'.
He only ever took what he really needed, such as medicine when Sam was really sick or a loaf of bread that was about to be thrown away for no reason other than it was slightly burnt. Dean was clever, sneaky, so it was rare that he was ever caught by the shop owner.
Both poaching and stealing were punishable by death, but he was lucky. He was both a child and he had a decent Peacekeeper in District Four, Deacon. Deacon had taken a shining to Dean, feeling slightly sorry about his situation. He had managed to prevent any thought of executions, and managed to stop half the floggings. However, Dean's criminal ways didn't go down as well with the rest of the population of District Four. There were only a handful of people who truly liked him, and the majority of those were the girls he flirted with at school.
Sam, of course, had no such involvement in Dean's escapades. Dean had made sure that Sam would never get into trouble and there was no doubt that he would protect his brother with his life. That was why Dean's name was in that bowl twelve times. Three because he had to, and the other nine for the tesserae that was needed to keep his brother and father alive. That was more than most of the eighteen year olds in the district, let alone the fourteen year olds.
"Even if I did get picked, someone's gonna to volunteer" Dean reassured Sam. Sam nodded his head but was not totally convinced. District Four was considered a Career District in the games, like District One and Two. Dean and Sam had been trained by their father, like most of the children. The authorities told them it was an honour to become a tribute, to win the games. After all, the games did help to keep the district strong, with a year's worth of gifts they received if a tribute survived. Also, the opportunity to never have another gruelling day of labour out at sea, where you didn't always know if you would come back home, was appealing.
But the Winchester's didn't buy into the Capitol fed ideals, along with many others in the district. They trained purely for survival. To Dean it made sense, they wouldn't send a Peacekeeper into battle without training, so why should they send children into a fighting arena without training? Despite many of the children's training being for survival, they still had at least one or two people volunteering every year. Eighteen-year-olds who had been brainwashed by their parents and the school, with a slight psychopathic killer look in their eyes, wanting to battle for glory. Or an eighteen-year-old would volunteer from a poor family, for the wealth that a victor received. Either way, each year District Four had a volunteer tribute.
"Eat some breakfast, we'll have to go soon" Dean told Sam, giving him a playful shove. Sam ignored his brother, grabbing some tesserae bread from the cupboard "After the reaping, I'll get some decent bread" Dean promised.
"Don't make promises you can't keep, Dean. We can't afford it, and you said you wouldn't steal anymore." Sam replied, giving Dean an accusing glare, turning the bread in his hands.
"When have I ever broken a promise, dude?" Dean questioned. "And I won't steal it, especially not on Reaping Day. Even Deacon wouldn't be able to help me if I got caught. I sold some fish yesterday at the Anchor, and I still have a little money left over from my shift" Dean told him, smiling as he bit into some of the bread. Dean worked after school as a deckhand. It was hard, physical work, and the pay wasn't great, but it was the only place that would take him.
"Ok" Sam agreed, biting into the bread. He knew Dean had broken plenty of promises, but never one made to Sam. Sam even remembered Dean breaking a promise to their father once, which had shocked Sam. Dean practically worshipped the ground their dad work on, in his opinion.
"I'm gonna wake up Dad, so you go and have a bath. Unless you want me to go first?" Dean asked with a smirk. Sam cringed at the thought, he knew Dean hadn't bathed for a couple of days, so he still had the grime of the boat on him, and it would take more than fresh water to make the bath clean again.
"Na, I'll go first." Sam told him, almost running out of the room to the little, metal tub, grabbing some boiling water from the fire.
Dean smirked and turned to his father, still snoring. "Dad." Dean said, shaking him gently. "Dad!" Shaking him a little harder. John bolted upright, and started to swing in defence, Dean neatly hopping out of the way with practise. Finally, John took in his surroundings and focused on Dean.
"What's the matter?" He asked him, glancing around the room "Where's Sammy?" He asked, noticing Sam's empty bed.
"He's taking a bath. You need to get ready, it's Reaping Day" Dean reminded him.
John rubbed his hand down his face and groaned. "Crap" he muttered to himself, not that he really forgot. The reaping was one of the worst days of the year, tying with the anniversary of Mary's death. He hated the idea of sending his eldest son to his possible death, and he hated the thought that Sam would be joining Dean in two years. "What time is it?"
"Sometime around ten." Dean responded, putting a bowl of water on the fire for his bath. They didn't have a clock in their house, it had broken years ago on one of John's drunken rampages, so Dean learnt to read the sun, which is only half helpful.
"Still got a couple of hours then" John noted, glad he would have some time to make himself look partially presentable. Dean nodded his head, he wasn't in the mood for small talk. He just wanted the reaping to be over so he could carry on looking after his family.
At twelve o'clock, the three Winchester's headed to the square, which overlooked the docks. Dean dressed in a light blue shirt and black trousers, making him fidget uncomfortably. He was used to his plaid shirt over a t-shirt, jeans and boots.
"Will you stop that?" John hissed at him, having to tell him this every year. John never meant to scorn Dean before the Reaping, but his tensions were high and it always slipped out. He didn't miss the glare Sam gave him for the comment
"I feel like a monkey in a suit" Dean complained, messing with the collar of his shirt.
"You're lucky I didn't force you into a tie" John grumbled at him. "Now, stop fidgeting and stop complaining." John ordered, a tone of finality clear in his voice, slapping Dean's hand away from the collar.
"Yes sir" Dean replied, keeping his hand next to his leg as he walked. Sam rolled his eyes at his father and the Peacekeeper like response Dean replied with, but kept his head down, now was not a time to start arguing with them.
Everybody filed silently into the square, even the bravest among them feeling the nerves kick in. The reaping was a great way for the Capitol to keep tabs on the populations, as everybody had to attend the ceremony. The only reason not to be, was if you were at deaths door, and Peacekeepers would come checking later to make sure you were.
"I'll see you later" Dean told to his father and Sam. Sam pulled him into a hug, before following their father to where the spectators stood. Dean followed all the twelve to eighteen year olds to the roped off areas, walking into the age group that contained all the fourteen year olds.
The mayor stood up and said his piece, talking about the Dark Days and how the Hunger Games arose from it. The Hunger Games were punishment for the uprising of the districts, only twelve out of thirteen remained after the Dark Days- District Thirteen was turned into rubble. As punishment, each district had to give one female and one male tribute to the Capitol, and the tributes were sent into the arena to fight to the death, until one lone victor remained.
Dean zoned the majority of the speech out, it wasn't until their escort came out that Dean paid attention. She was young, and in Dean's opinion very pretty. Tessa, Dean remembered, was unlike the other Capitol citizens he had seen, she looked normal. She had black hair in a bob cut, average height, and wore a simple white top and trousers. Even though she looked almost normal, he still detested her as he detested everyone form the Capitol.
"Happy Hunger Games!" Tessa said loudly, "And may the odds be ever in your favour. Ladies first" She said, walking over to the bowl and plucking out a name. "Coral Haynes" Tessa read out.
A seventeen year old walked up onto the stage nervously, taking worried glances around her. Tessa encouraged her up onto the stage, offering out her hand as Coral walked shakily up the steps to the stage. Coral stood up onto the stage, tears running down her face, and looked out at all the spectators, probably trying to single out her family amongst the crowd.
"Now for the boys" Tessa said, reaching into the boy's bowl. She firmly grasped a little slip of paper, and cleared her throat before reading out the name. "Dean Winchester."