Disclaimer: I do not own Power Rangers or The Hunger Games. I make no profit off of this, I just obey the bunnies.
Summary: Power Rangers in Space/Hunger Games crossover. In a world where the Power Rangers don't exist, the rangers are citizens of Panam. This is the story of one of the rangers who survived the 71st annual Hunger Games.
Disillusion: Chapter 1
"And now the boys," Cavot Linkress announced in that ridiculous capital accent.
Zhane reached for his best friend's hand. It'll be all right, he silently repeated the words that he had said to his three younger siblings this morning.
Cavot swirled his hand around in the glass bowl for what seemed like forever. Zhane glanced over to where the younger boys were, looking to see of he could find either of his brothers. He couldn't.
This was Car's first reaping, he had just turned twelve. Alarc was fourteen, and Jesway, his only sister was only seven. She was still safe for a few years.
Zhane looked back at the stage where Cavot stood just in time to see him pull out the paper. He felt Andros' hand squeeze his own.
"Zhane Silvereed!"
Zhane froze. iNo./i It was the only word his mind could form. He couldn't think, his breath caught in his throat. Of course, there was nothing to think about. He had no choice, no options.
"Zhane," it was Andros' voice this time, soft and familiar and close. And he would probably never get to hear it again, Zhane thought as he started to breath again.
"Zhane, I'll-"
"No," he knew what was about to say. They had talked about it a hundred times, more, probably, over the years. What would happen if one of them was chosen for the Games?
He couldn't look at Andros. But he had too. He swallowed. Andros looked as scared as he felt. "No," Zhane said again, his voice no steadier this time.
They loved each other. They had grown up together, and where closer to each other than either of them where to their own families. There was no doubt in Zhane's mind what Andros was going to offer, and no doubt that he meant it. But the only thing worse than going to the Games would be to have to see someone he loved going to the Games in his place. Dying in his place. He couldn't live with himself if he let Andros do that.
"Zhane..." Andros must have realized that he wasn't making things any easier for him because he trailed off. He gave his hand one last squeeze, then he let go. He would see him one more time, Zhane reminded himself, already longing for the warmth of the other's hand. He took a step forward, away from Andros, and then he was falling. Falling into the arena.
He sat up in a panic. It was a dream, his mind told him. It was just another nightmare. He had them almost every night since the games. Zhane looked at the clock on his bedside table, four in the morning. He didn't care.
Thunder crashed outside the window of the room he slept in, in the house they had given him. He didn't care. He barely stopped to throw on a pair of boots and a jacket before leaving the house.
It was pouring rain outside, and the wind blew what was left of the dead brown leaves off of the trees and into his face. He didn't care. The Victor's Village where he lived now was in the center of town. Andros lived on the edge of town, a thirty minute walk. Zhane made it there in less than twenty.
The little wooden house was familiar, welcoming. It was not to different from the home he used to live in, that he grew up in. It was too small for the six people who had lived there, it was drafty and the roof had leaked on nights like this. And Zhane missed it dearly.
He went around the side of the house, finding the window he knew all to well by now. He rapped on it. It was only then that he realized that he was shaking. Though if it was from the cold or the nightmare he didn't know. He didn't care. He closed his eyes and rapped on the window again, harder. He was about to knock again when it slid open.
"Zhane, it's freezing out there," Andros said. He'd clearly been asleep.
"Can I come in?" Zhane asked.
"Of course," Andros said, taking his hand to help him climb through the window.
"You're soaking wet," Andros said, helping Zhane out of his jacket.
"It's raining," Zhane said absently.
Andros gave him a look. "Wait here," he told him, heading out of the room. He came back a minute later with a couple of towels. "Here, dry off. You're going to make yourself sick."
Zhane looked at the towel. "The games didn't kill me but a little rain will?" he murmured, but took the towel, running it over his hair. Andros pulled out some spare clothes from his dresser and handed them to him.
Zhane finished drying off and changed into the pajamas. They where a little small on him, but they where soft and warm.
"Did you have another nightmare?" Andros asked, watching him.
Zhane nodded, "I hate that house." Andros was the only one who knew that. His parents and kid siblings delighted in it, and for them, he pretended that he did too. He couldn't say he blamed them. They each had their own room now. There was always hot running water and electricity. But for him, it just reminded him of The Capitol.
He had used to dream of what it would be like to visit The Capitol. It was beautiful, and they had thing there that he could have never imagined. And when he had been selected for the games, he had seen them all. And all Zhane knew what that he never wanted to go back there again.
"Come here," Andros said, he could see Zhane was still shivering. "Lie down, he told him, as he pulled back the covers.
Zhane looked at him for a moment, really seeing him, or anything, for that matter, for the first time since he had woken up. Andros was his best friend, it had been that way forever, since before he could remember. He was the one Zhane had always confided in, the one he had gone to for advice, the first he told any news, good or bad. He was the single most important person in Zhane's life, and he knew Andros felt the same about him. They both loved their families dearly, but the connection the two of them had was something special.
"Andros?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you," Zhane said, crawling in between the sheets.
Andros gave him a smile in reply. He glanced out the window, probably deciding if it was worth trying to get back to sleep or not. Apparently he decided it was a good idea, because he slid into the small bed. "Scoot over," he said, nudging Zhane.
He did, though he didn't have far he could go. It was cramped and honestly rather uncomfortable. But it wasn't the first time he and Andros had shared a bed, and there was no where else Zhane would rather be.