Well, I wasn't going to start a new story, but then I re-read The Hunger Games and couldn't get this idea out of my head, so I decided to roll with it. I hope you all enjoy it because I'm excited with the way it's shaping out to be.

I will try and update as soon as possible, but with this being the end of my senior year I am very busy, so please bare with me!

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee, Hunger Games, or the Title

Also, I am aware that in the movie there is a comment made about Career tributes training in a special academy until they're 18. Since they didn't mention that in the books and I started writing this before I saw the movie, I'm just going to kind of ignore it.

Enjoy this first chapter, and please review afterwards. It makes me so happy!

We Found Love in a Hopeless Place

Chapter One

My eyes open suddenly as I awake from the nightmare that was taking over my sweet sleep. After I fully register I am awake, I realize that I am sweating profusely. It's okay, I remind myself. He isn't in the arena yet. You still have a couple more days. The thought isn't very calming. I look over at the solar clock that hangs on my wall and realize that it's time to wake up for school anyhow.

The first thing I do after getting out of my bed is go to a glass screen that sits in the middle of the wall opposite me. I hit the calendar button and cross off another day before sighing. Only two days left. I then hit the weather button and find it's supposed to rain all day. That just adds to my fantastic mood.

I go to my closet and pick out an outfit. It's my usual sundress and cardigan to match. Just as I'm slipping my sandals on a fresh wave of nausea washes over my body and I make a beeline to the bathroom. I make it to the toilet just in time before I empty out anything that was in my stomach this morning. When it's finally over I sit on the bathroom floor, leaned against the wall, shaking. This is the tenth morning in two weeks this has happened. There is no denying anything anymore. I know what this means.

I can't be late to breakfast, though, or else my parents will be suspicious so I clean up my face, pop a mint into my mouth, and head downstairs to the dining room. There is toast with fresh strawberry jam set out to eat. I take some and pour a glass of goat's milk before sitting in my seat at the table. Another minute passes before my parents walk in and join me. My mom is looking elegant as always, in a long, form-fitting dress, while my father wears a nice black suit and a red tie.

Breakfast is mostly silent, as usual. My sister, Franny, was always the chatty one. She got married last year, and ever since she left, the house has been much quieter. I don't think my parents mind, and I know I don't. I like quiet.

The sound of the doorbell rings throughout the house. I smile before grabbing my backpack and kissing my parents good-bye. I open the front door to find Puck, waiting as he always does, leaning up against the house, his arms crossed, looking into the distance. He turns when he hears me coming. He places a soft kiss on my cheek like he does every morning. "You ready to go?" he asks.

I nod in return. He takes my backpack and slings it over his shoulder with his own. Then he reaches his hand out for me to take, and I always do. We walk to school together, which is only about a mile away. I don't mind the walk. Sometimes we talk, and other times we walk in silence. Today is one of those silent days. Each day the reaping gets closer the air gets heavier for the both of us. No one in the district knows how we really feel. No one suspects. His face, so strong and snarling and mine, so dainty and captivating. We have perfected our disguises, so much so that it scares me at times, but there's no other way. At least this way we're safe.

We see a couple of familiar faces as we walk. With the days until the reaping ever close, Puck is already being treated like a hero. People will stop on the street to say hello and bid us a good day. I offer a friendly smile and Puck a nod.

I think back to twenty minutes ago, in my bathroom. I have to tell him. I know it isn't what he needs right now, but I can't bear the thought of him never knowing, and soon it could be too late. There is also the very real possibility that this will give him more reason to survive in the Games.

"Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?" I ask him. "It's hard to think about not spending all my time with you the next two days."

"Wouldn't miss it," he says, leaning over and kissing the side of my head. Oh, how much I'm going to miss that.

I met Puck when I was ten years old. I had just moved to District One from District Seven because my father had been promoted to mayor. In District Seven he did some sort of work for the Capitol, and I guess he did it well because when the mayor of District One died suddenly, my father was asked to take his place.

Right away I noticed how different this new district was from my old one. There isn't a single soul in District One that is starving, or even close to hungry. Not that everyone in District Seven is hungry, but there sure are a lot compared to my new home. It was a nice relief to move to a new place where I didn't have to feel bad about having enough to eat.

Many of the kids were interested in being in my friend when I first arrived at school, mostly because I am one of a very small number of people who has seen another district. There is not much travel allowed between districts, unless you have special permission from the Capitol, so I easily became an interesting person to these curious adolescents. I told them of District Seven, and how different it is from their own. It's export is lumber, and the district is surrounded by woods on all four sides. Trees taller than the factory buildings everywhere I looked. District One has barely any trees- ten if I'm being specific. The land that surrounds the fence is flat and barren, and it took a while for my eyes to get used to seeing nothing where there used to be so much green.

I tried to explain to the kids what this looks like as best as I can. But when someone has never seen even two trees next to each other, it's hard to explain what it looks like when there's hundreds. I felt bad for them because it's something they'll never even get to experience.

After I told everything there is to tell, people weren't as interested in being my friend. They went back to their lives from before I arrived and I am left with pretty much no one. One day at lunch I got tired of sitting by myself and I noticed there was a brooding boy with a Mohawk that sat by himself, too. I figured maybe we could eat together. So I walked up to his table and asked if I could sit down. I am astonished when he says no. I guess I didn't stop to think that maybe he was choosing to sit by himself, unlike me who was forced to.

Before I could stop myself I burst into tears. It is all too much. I was feeling so rejected, that this final act of rejection just sent me over the edge.

He looked up at me, uneasy at my reaction; I suppose he wasn't expecting it either. He sighed. "Fine, take a seat."

"I don't want your pity," I said stubbornly as I stormed off in the other direction. I took a seat at an empty table across the room and ate my lunch in silence, fighting back the tears that were trying so hard to escape.

A couple minutes later he walked over to me and dropped his tray on the table. "Look, I wasn't pitying you, okay? You're new here, so you don't know how things work, but I'm not the company type. It's too hard."

Then I became curious. Why would company ever be too hard for someone? If anything I would think not having company would be too hard. I lifted an eyebrow in suspicion.

He sighed because it's obvious I have no idea what he is talking about. "I know you're not from here, so you don't know how things work. But in this district, the tributes for the Games aren't chosen at the reapings, but years before."

He went on to tell me that when every child is eight years old, they go through a series of physical and medical tests to see how strong and big they are going to be when they are older. He described the metal machine they put him in, to measure his future height and muscle mass. He told me about the physical tests they put him through at such a young age: sprinting, long distance running, jumping. They do this to every kid until they find the girl and boy with the most potential to succeed. Apparently that ended up being him and a girl named Santana. As usual, when they found out they were going to be tributes, they became very detached.

"Then why are you telling me all of this?" I couldn't help but ask. I knew it may be a rude question, but if he's trying not to get too attached to people, why did he come over here and spill his soul to me?

"Because there's something about you I can't resist," he answered.

Now I'm really taken aback. What does he mean there's something he can't resist about me? Is this supposed to be a compliment?

"I've been avoiding you since you moved here," he went on to say. I thought about how he was one of the few kids who never flocked around me when I was telling stories about the other districts.

"Why?"

He got really shy, and I didn't know if I was imagining this, but there seemed to be a blush behind his olive skin. "Because you're the first person that's ever intimidated me."

This interested me, considering I thought I was the least intimidating person ever. With my tiny frame, pale skin, and gentle eyes, I hardly thought I screamed danger. "How?" I wondered.

"You…you're…you're so pretty." He said the last part so fast that I had to take a second and think about what he said. Being only ten years old, this was practically a declaration of love. It was my turn to blush, my cheeks no doubt got crimson red because my skin is so pale.

"Thank you. Do you want to sit down?" I wondered. He thought about it hesitantly before he gave in and joined me. From then on out the two of us were inseparable, but as the reaping looms closer, we're starting to feel the real consequences of becoming so attached, knowing he is eventually going into that arena.

After school I start making the dinner. My father will still be at work, no doubt, and my mother has some formal party to attend, so it will just be Puck and me. I start by cooking some squirrel meat because, even though it's pretty cheap, its Puck's favorite. I make mashed potatoes next, sprinkling them with little herbs to enhance the flavor. Green beans follow and then some fresh bread. For dessert I prepare little cakes with strawberry flavored icing. I go all out because this meal is special. I don't like to think about it, but it may be the last one Puck and I ever have together, just the two of us.

"Mmmm, smells delicious in here," Puck comments as he walks through the door. He picks me up and spins me around. I can't help but giggle like a little school girl.

"Just a special meal for my special man," I say, patting his chest. I lead him to the dining room where just two places are set at our rather large table. There is a vase of purple lilies along with some candles setting decoratively in the middle.

"Wow, this is great," he says, smiling. Since his smile is pretty rare these days, I can't help but return it.

"Anything for you," I say. "I'll be right back."

I disappear back into the kitchen and bring out our plates of food. We eat in silence for the first couple of minutes. This is such a nice moment that neither of us wants to ruin it with words that are too hard to say. I hear the clatter of silverware against plates, but that's not all. I mostly hear what is not being said, what cannot be said. In a little over a day he will be ripped from my life, maybe for good.

After we have finished the meal and the dessert I take him into the living room. He starts a nice fire while I lay a blanket on the floor. We lie down together in from of the warm fire, letting the feeling tingle our bodies. My head rests gingerly against his chest as he strokes my blonde hair.

"I feel like there's something you're not telling me," he says simply. One thing I've learned over the years is that I cannot keep anything from Puck; somehow he always seems to know when I have some sort of secret. Like for his twelfth birthday, his mother wanted to throw him a surprise party. I tried so hard to keep the secret, but it only took him a day to get the information out of me. I guess he's my weakness as much as I am his- but this is something so much more than a surprise birthday party. This is life changing and terrifying.

"That's because there is," I answer honestly. I sigh before lifting my head up so we're now looking each other in the eyes. I see the worry in his, disguised by false confidence and pride that everyone else sees. But I see deeper, and I know his façade. I hate adding this to his pile of stress, but I can't stand the thought of him never knowing.

For a second I'm scared I can't say it. I try a few times, but nothing comes out. Saying it out loud makes it all so real, and it's hard to tell if I'm ready. I take a deep breath and just blurt it out. "I'm pregnant."

The surprise on his face, I can't tell whether it is anger or excitement or both. I can tell he definitely wasn't expecting that sort of announcement. He looks down at my stomach, like maybe it was huge and swollen already and he had somehow overlooked it. But it's not…not yet at least.

I let him take his time to answer, let him soak it in and wrap his mind around it.

"We're having a baby?" he finally asks- like he needs confirmation on the definition of the word pregnant, just in case he got it wrong.

I nod slowly.

"Oh Quinn, I'm so sorry," he pleads. I can't say I was expecting this reaction; for him to be the one who says they're sorry this happened. I guess it's his fault as much as it is mine, but still. The man is not usually the one apologizing.

"Don't be sorry," I say, softly rubbing the back of my hand on his cheek.

"How could I not be? Leaving you in this condition? Maybe leaving you forever, with a baby your parents will surely be mad about."

"Don't worry about my parents," I say. "I won't tell them until after the Games, because when you come back, you will be so rich and famous they won't think to punish me. And if, well, if the alternative happens, I'll be so grief-stricken they won't dare punish me then either."

"Don't think about the alternative, because I'm coming out of that arena, I don't care what I have to do. I'll be a good father. A father worth being proud of. I won't leave you, Quinn. Not like this."

Maybe it's the hormones, or maybe it's all my emotions finally coming out, but tears are now pouring down my face and a choked sobbing sound comes out of the back of my throat. There's nothing left to do, but lie together in front of the fire. Puck continues stroking my hair while I cry the tears I have been holding back for years now. An hour or so later I am all cried out, and so exhausted I fall asleep there in Puck's arms, not even caring if my parents walk in and see. Because tonight, in his arms, I feel so safe that my nightmares cannot get me.

When I wake up the next morning I am back in my bed and Puck is gone. I figure he brought me up here before my parents got home. Well, this is the last day, I think to myself. It takes everything inside me not to break down and stay in bed forever.

I manage to get up and dressed, thankful that there is no morning sickness. I know there is some special herb that keeps morning sickness away, but I don't know what it is, and to ask would give away my predicament for sure. I decide that I can just wait it out.

My parents have given me permission to skip school for the day, which surprises me because it's obvious to me they're not huge supporters of Puck. I suppose they're just trying to win my affection. Once I've eaten breakfast I head over to Puck's house where he is having his final training session.

When I arrive at his house he is out front with Glint, his trainer since he was eight. He is a middle-aged man, although he looks like he could be younger. His body is still in superb shape and his blue eyes are piercing.

As I walk closer I watch as Puck effortlessly throws knives into a tree in his front yard, hitting exactly the point Glint has marked off. I clap and give him a smile when I'm close enough for him to see me.

He runs over to me and gives me a peck on the lips. "Hey babe."

"Hey, how's the final training going?" I ask.

"Pretty good."

"Looks better than pretty good to me."

Glint walks over to us, and impatiently interrupts our conversation. "Come on, Puck. There's still a lot more to get done." Puck gives me a side smirk before walking back over to the yard with Glint.

I spot Puck's younger sister, Ruby, sitting on the front steps and make my way over to her. Luckily, Ruby did not get the same combination of genes as Puck, so she was not chosen to be her age group's tribute. It has happened in the past before. One family had all three of their kids chosen because their genetics were so outstanding. It's the one fear I have about this baby; that it will be chosen someday to compete in the Games.

Ruby greets me, breaking me from these thoughts. I feel bad for the little girl. Only ten years old and already lost her father, and about to, most likely, lose her brother, too. When I met Puck Ruby was only two, so I've watched her grow into the young girl she is now. She's been like a little sister to me and I love her. I promised Puck a while ago that if he were to not make it out of the games I would check on Ruby a lot, and make sure she's growing up properly. As much as Puck hates to admit it, Ruby means the world to him. She's the only person besides me that is able to break down that tough exterior he possesses. They are both extremely hard-headed, though, and most of their conversations are full of sarcasm and insults, but it's like a special language to them, and they both know never to take the other person seriously.

Ruby and I sit in silence and watch as Puck throws a spear, shoots a bow and arrow, and wrestles around with Glint. After ten years of this kind of training Puck is too good to beat, which gives me hope. But Puck isn't exactly clever, and sometimes those are the people who win, no matter how physically fit they are. I drive myself crazy thinking of the possible other tributes or the shape the arena will be in. There is no way for me to know, which makes the guessing all the more agonizing. Ruby can see the pain on my face and she grabs my hand silently and subtly, as she continues to watch Puck and Glint fight. I give hers a slight squeeze to tell her I'll be okay. That we'll all be okay. We have to be.

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