A Simple Punishment

Title: A Simple Punishment

Author: quickquotesquills

Rating: T (I'm going to try and keep the gore out of this...I can't stand blood.)

Pairing: Starts out with friendship!Kurt/Blaine. Will move onto romantic!Kurt/Blaine eventually.

Summary: When Kurt Hummel, a boy from District 12, gets picked for the Hunger Games, he expects it to be a quick death with virtually no contest. What he doesn't expect is to be picked as the girl tribute. And he certainly didn't expect Blaine Anderson to come in to the picture.

Author's Note: So. I was about to go to sleep last night when this idea popped into my head. Bits and pieces, really. And I decided to write it! It would definitely be better if you have read the Hunger Games...if not, you'll be really confused. It's some of the Glee characters in the Hunger Games 'verse, but it's not going to just follow the events of the first book. Also, we're going to pretend for the purposes of this story that the whole Katniss/Peeta-rebellion-Mockingjay-Quarter Quell thing never happened.


Chapter 1

District 12. Bleak. Tired. Hopeless.

It's also home.

It's reaping day, which means I didn't get any sleep whatsoever last night. After six years of this, you'd think it would get easier. But it never does. Wondering if you'll come home that night. Worrying about your friends. Your family. I would actually care a lot less if it wasn't for Dad. He's never been the same since my mother died. People say it was a freak accident at the Hob, but I don't think they believe it for a second. I know it was one of the Peacekeepers. Needless to say, we don't have riots anymore.

Anyways, moping isn't going to get anything accomplished. So I get out of bed. Dad's snoring in the other room. I'm glad. He's always worrying so much about me, it'll be good for him to have some rest. I tiptoe out of the house. It's still early morning, which means I'll have a long time until the reaping. Might as well try to get my mind off things.

Some people like to sneak out of District 12 into the woods. Me...I'd rather not. Too much dirt. And bugs. And did I mention dirt? Santana, however, has no problem with it. She's even dragged me across a couple of times. But if she got mud on my jacket...someone would pay.

I'm almost at the end of the Meadow when I hear a familiar voice. "Hey, Fancy!" Well. Speak of the devil.

Santana Lopez is striding across the Meadow very confidently, waving at me. And...here's the thing about Santana. She puts up a front of being this amazing, self-confident girl from the Seam. But I know for a fact that she's really scared on the inside. She's got two little brothers and a grandmother who can't really help with anything, and it's up to her to go out into the forest and hunt. So I put up with her. Well, that's a lie. I really do like her. She's probably my only friend...no one else from the Seam really ever thinks about talking to me. I'm an outcast.

I cross my arms and put on my best smirk. "Well, if it isn't Santana Lopez. What brings you out here to the wide open space of nothingness that is the Meadow?" It's not the best I could come up with, but I'm tired and anxious. My mind isn't really at its full capacity right now.

She returns the smirk. "Nothing much. What about you, Hummel? Excited for the reaping?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I be excited to have my name thrown into a contest where I could die?" I ask.

"No idea. I did bring breakfast, though, in case you're just a tiny bit worried. Rory milked the goat." she says with a hint of a bitchface. I swear, she is the only one who can pull one of those off better than I can.

"What are we waiting for, then? Let's feast. Happy Hunger Games." I say. She's got a basket with her, and we sit down close to one another. We eat in silence. She's got some bread and a bit of roast wild turkey (probably leftover from last night). We talk about things we could never talk about in public. The Capitol, our parents who were lost to the Peacekeepers, other districts, and the fact that I like boys and she likes girls. I'm just about finished when I hear a small sob coming from Santana's direction.

"San? Are you okay?" I look over at her to see that she's crying. This is weird. Really weird. I scoot over to her and wrap my arms around her shoulders. Santana Lopez never lets her fear show, so this can't be good.

"I just...Kurt, I'm scared." She hardly ever calls me by my first name. Again, not a good sign. "Some of the kids aren't taking out any tesserae, but I have almost 40. And you-you've only got around 10. What if I get picked?"

"You won't, Santana. Because if you do, I will personally cut someone." I say. I'm scared too, but...one crying teenager is enough, thank you.

I head home to get ready for the reaping soon after that. It's my second last one, and I guess I wanted to look good. I put on a dress shirt and these really nice black pants, with a bow-tie thrown in for good measure. It's not much, but it's just about as good as it gets in District 12.

Walking towards the section for 17-year-olds is a challenge. District 12 isn't too big, but there's always a crowd on reaping days. I wave to Santana as she passes by. Tina, a girl who I've never really talked to but know from school, has a little girl no older than 4 clutching her leg, refusing to let go. I try to ignore all of this. You see it every year, but there's nothing you can do about it.

"Ahem? Ahem!" chimes a voice. It's April Rhodes, the assistant from the Capitol. She comes every year to manage the reaping and make 12 more "suitable" for the Capitol. Maybe it's just me, but she seems a little tipsy. I do have very limited experience with alcohol, though.

"L-ladies and gentlemen!" she squeals in that horrible high-pitched Capitol accent. Maybe I shouldn't be one to talk about having a high-pitched voice, but my voice is perfectly natural. April Rhodes was just...irritating. "It is time for the-the reaping!" She swayed slightly. I roll my eyes.

"First, we have the boys." She reaches into a clear blue plastic ball and pulls out a sheet of paper. Pleasenotme pleasenotme pleasenotme, I think. She calls out the name. Thankfully, it's not me. "Finn Hudson. Come on up!" she exclaims. As if it's something to be celebrated. I don't know Finn personally, but he's kinda cute. I don't have much time for boys though, and it's not as if the Peacekeepers would ever tolerate a boy dating another boy. So I keep my face blank as Finn lumbers up onto the stage, shoving his hands in his pockets. He's got this horrible, hopeless look on his face. I don't blame him. There is scattered applause in the crowds, mostly for the cameras.

"Volunteers? No? Well then, we'll just move on to the girls!" She seems to have gained some of her coherency back. It doesn't seem like she's much better though, as April Rhodes ends up dizzyingly stumbling over to the other end of the stage that has the large plastic pink ball. As she once again reaches her hand in, I find myself desperately hoping that it's not Santana's name picked. If not for her, then for me. I don't know what I'd do without her, but don't tell her I ever said that.

April Rhodes pulls out a small slip of paper from the ball.

Please not Santana.

She reads out the name. And it's not Santana.

"Kurt Hummel!"


A/N: So, what did you think? This chapter isn't beta-ed because I wanted it out quickly, but the next one will be beta-ed. Also, keep in mind that the opinions of the Peacekeepers and the Capitol are not mine, and I would never consider Kurt a girl.

Reviews are love, and tell me if I should keep going. I mean, I will either way because I can't get this out of my head, but...yeah. The next chapters will probably be longer, too.