"Dean?"
Dean looked away from his reflection in the mirror to look at his little brother.
Sam was standing there, looking a little sheepish. He was holding his hands behind his back so Dean could see his outfit. It wasn't as dirty as his usual attire, and it even looked like he tried to flatten some of the wrinkles out. He wore a blue dress shirt, something only worn on special occasions, like reaping day. Brown slacks covered his elongating legs, and he wore loafers to complete. His hair was slicked back so it wasn't in his face, making him look a couple years older than twelve.
"Is it okay?" he asked, looking up at Dean.
Dean strode over to Sam, rubbing his hand through his hair, making it stick up in a couple places.
"There, that looks more like the Sam I know," Dean said, flashing him a quick grin.
Sam gave him a smile that disappeared after another moment.
"You okay, Sammy?"
"Yeah... Just... What if I'm picked? There's no kids that are eighteen this year, no one will volunteer for me if I am."
"You never know Sam, and your name is only going once anyways. I doubt you'll be picked," Dean said, flipping his collar up in an attempt to hide his worry from his brother.
"But yours is going in 20 times this year, what if you are picked?"
"That's because of the tesserae. We get food, so it was worth it for whatever it's worth," Dean muttered.
Before Sam could respond, a gruff voice piped up from the other side of the room, "You boys ready?"
Both of them nodded obediently then followed him out the door.
From across the road, Dean spotted a young blonde girl.
"Jo!" he called to her.
Jo looked up and came over.
Jo Harvelle was 14, two years in between both Sam and Dean, and was considered a friend to both. Her mother owned the one of the main shops in their village, and Ash, the genius, lived there as well.
"Hey Dean. Happy reaping day." her normal energy was a little sapped, but Dean knew how she felt.
Reaping day was always a terrifying day, even for kids in District 2.
"Happy reaping day," Dean sighed in reply. "How's Ellen and Ash?"
"Mom is trying to compose herself... You know how she is on reaping day. And Ash is probably either drunk or hungover. Not sure, he hasn't left his room since yesterday morning."
Dean chuckled softly under his breath.
Jo looked over at Sam, who was walking with his eyes lowered.
"Hey Sam," he looked up when she said his name, "Dean probably already said this, but don't worry. You won't be picked. Even if you do, there's going to be someone who volunteers in your place."
Dean noticed with a pang in his heart that Sam was at least almost as tall as Jo. He couldn't help but worry about him.
Dean grabbed Sam's hand as the crowd began to grow. Sam tightened his grip as they came closer to the line. He was forced to let go when they reached the table.
After they pricked Sam's finger and let him go, he was swept away with the crowd. Dean couldn't go find him again, so he stood in his place and searched above the heads. His eyes meet Jo's after a moment, and she mouthed "good luck" to him.
"Attention, attention!"
'God her voice is annoying' Dean thought as the woman who announced the tributes spoke up, tapping on the mic.
She was dressed in some god-awful pink dress that puffed out at the bottom, complete with pink wig and fake magenta eyelashes.
The mandatory video on "War, terrible war" played through with different levels of interest and fear, before she spoke again.
"Welcome, welcome, to the 72nd Annual Hunger Games. As always, ladies first!"
At least she kept it brief. If you are sending us to our deaths, no need to sugar-coat it.
Her hand waved around the glass bowl for a few moments, before she grabbed a slip of paper. She walked back to the mic, and Dean could swear you could hear the anticipation. She carefully unfolded it, then spoke into the mic.
"Jo Harvelle!"
Dean's head snapped around to look at Jo. Her eyes had widened, and he could see her face pale from where he stood. From the back, he could hear Ellen screaming. His eyes darted to her; Ash was holding her back from running up to Jo, trying to calm her down. His eyes darted back to Jo, who was taking her place on the stage, trying to hide her fear.
"And now for the men."
It disgusted him. How uncaring the Capitol was, that they could sentence an innocent young girl like Jo to death and simply move on, ignoring the screams of her mother.
"Sam Winchester!"
At the sound of his brother's name, Dean immediately snapped out of his thoughts. Before Sam could even react, Dean shoved the crowd out of his way, fury igniting in him at the Capitol.
"I volunteer as tribute!" he shouted, glaring flames at the Capitol woman.
"Well, we have a volunteer! Come up, come up, what's your name?" she asked in that high-pitched voice.
Ignoring Sam's shouts as best as he could, he walked up to the woman, "Dean Winchester."
"I'll bet that was your brother. Couldn't let him steal your glory, could you?"
Dean turned to her, and she paled a little under his threatening glare.
She quickly composed herself and turned back to the mic.
"Ladies and gentlemen, your District 2 tributes!"
Dean was waiting in the Justice Building, trying not to punch a wall. Though, he was debating whether or not it really mattered. They couldn't punish him anymore now. The door opened and Sam ran in, hugging Dean tightly. Dean held him for a moment, closing his eyes and enjoying what might be the last hug from Sam he'll ever get. When he let go, he bent down to Sam's level. Sam stared at him, and Dean could see tears in his eyes.
"You have to win Dean... I know you can, you can win..." Sam said, making Dean's heart break at his sad tone.
"I will win. I'll come back to you Sammy, I promise."
Sam took something out of his pocket and held it out to Dean.
"I heard that you were allowed to take something from your District into the Arena."
He opened his palm to reveal the amulet he had given Dean years ago. Dean took it gratefully and put it around his neck. A Peacekeeper came in and marked the time was up. Sam gave him one more quick hug and then was ushered out of the room.
John came in next, staring at Dean.
"Son, I'm not big on words but um... Good luck. Remember what I taught you, you might be able to get out," he said, shifting his gaze to the ground in front of Dean.
"And if I don't? You gotta take care of Sammy. And I mean for real, he's gotta have a father figure and you know it wasn't exactly you."
John looked back at Dean, nodding to him, "I try. I'll just try harder."
"That's not good enough," Dean almost snarled.
"I know. I'll admit you took care of him when I couldn't. And... I'm proud of you."
The words were a bit of a shock to Dean, but John was also sent back out before Dean could respond.
Dean wasn't expecting anyone else, but after a moment of silence, the door opened again.
Ellen and Ash both walked in, surprising him. They were family friends, but he didn't think they'd see him off, especially since he'd be going into the Arena with Jo.
"Heya Dean," Ash slurred, definitely at least a little drunk, although there was a hint of sobriety.
"Hey Ash, Ellen," he replied, "I wouldn't have expected you to come."
"We wanted to wish you luck," Ellen said quietly.
Dean was silent for a minute.
"If I don't make it, I'll try to make sure Jo gets out."
Ellen gave him a small smile and pulled him into a hug.
"Thank you. She said the same about you. She wants you to win.."
Dean pulled back, staring at Ellen.
"Really?"
"Yes. Just... I don't want her to suffer. If she's going to..." Her voice broke, and she swallowed before continuing. "If she's going to die, make sure it's quick."
Dean nodded.
"We'll be rooting for ya. And we'll take care of Sam while you're gone," Ash said as they turned to leave, escorted by a Peacekeeper.
There were no more visitors; Dean expected no one else.
