A/N: I KNOW I'M SO EVIL! I'm so so so so so so sorry for not updating, I've been super busy with schoolwork and the holidays and exams and limited access to the computer, but I FINALLY got to sit down and update.

And I know this isn't Daughter of Poseidon, but I PROMISE I WILL UPDATE BY THE END OF THE WEEKEND! I've been working on this for a little and HAD to post it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or the Hunger Games, but it would be super cool if I did.

The water calmed him. It was the only way to distract him from his thoughts.

He cut through the water with clean strokes, the sea sparkling in the sun.

It was cruel, almost, to have such a beautiful morning while everyone was terrified.

Parents clutched their children tightly, wondering if this would be the last morning they spent with them. Who would be the family to lock their doors, close their shutters, and dread the weeks to come?

Reaping Day was always the worst.

Percy pulled himself up onto the dock and grabbed the towel draped over the side. He was seventeen. The odds definitely weren't in his favor. His name was in the bowl 36 times.

He just needed to avoid being selected for two more years, and he would be safe. Only two years. He'd been lucky before.

He sighed and draped the towel over his shoulders. It was still early, and normally the decks would be crowded with men and women hoping to get a catch. Today everyone was off work to go to the Reaping, and the docks looked sadly empty without normally smiling people.

In District 4, people generally had good chances. They were considered a Career district, but they hadn't had a victor in 27 years.

Maybe it will be our year, Percy thought halfheartedly.

He pushed open the door to his house quietly. His mother was probably still asleep.

The house was small and dilapidated. They lived on the outskirts of District 4, the poorer part. His mother was often ill and couldn't fish, her hands too shaky to make fishhooks or clean the fish, so Percy supported them both by fishing. He was also one of the best swimmers of his age, so if there was a boating accident, he would be sent out to search for survivors or rescue them, depending on the situation. Yet the money he earned was never enough.

He went down the narrow hallway, wincing at the creaking floorboards.

"Percy?"

He cursed himself silently. He wasn't quiet enough.

His mother was sick again, and he felt hopeless while she coughed violently or chills racked her body for hours.

"I'm here, Mom," he responded, opening the door to their room.

She laid on the bed, which sagged slightly, looking small and frail against the wool blankets despite the warm air. Her brown hair, streaked with gray, was fanned around her head on the pillow.

"Where were you?" Her voice was soft. He walked over to the side of her bed and took her hand.

"Just swimming," he answered.

She smiled. "You'd best get ready."

"Yeah," he stood. "You're right."

He toweled his hair dry and did his best to tame his disheveled black hair. He put on a white button-down shirt, tucking it in so no one would see the tear in the hem. He tied the laces of his best shoes, which were scuffed at the toes anyway.

"You look so handsome," his mother said.

He turned to see her standing, struggling to walk towards him.

"Mom, no! Lay down," Percy tried to guide her to the bed.

"No," she insisted firmly. "I want to come."

Why she wanted to see the Reaping he wasn't sure. She would be allowed to stay since she was sick.

Percy reluctantly agreed. Her hands were shakier than ever when he handed her a mug of tea.

They sat in silence around the table, dreading the hour ahead. Noon creeped closer at the pace of a snail.

Finally Percy stood. "It's getting close. We should go."

His mother stood. She looked younger with her hair down and the blue dress that was worn and patched, but still beautiful.

Percy hugged his mother, trying hard to avoid the thought that it may be his last.

Percy stood among the crowd of teenage boys, his jaw set and his hands clenched at his sides.

Marina Largo, the escort for District 4, strutted up to the platform.

"Welcome!" She smiled, but it seemed more like a sneer. "To the Reaping of the 62nd Hunger Games!"

She fluffed her deep blue curls. Her hair was colored various shades of blue, supposedly to look like waves, but in Percy's opinion, it wasn't working. Multiple silver rings glittered on her fingers, and ropes of coral and diamonds rested at her throat. She wore entirely too much makeup and her ruffled dress was ridiculous, along with the sky high heels.

"Why don't we go with the males first, shall we?" Marina batted her eyelashes at the camera.

Her long nails dipped into the sea of little paper slips, and everyone in the crowd held their breath as her fingers closed on a single white piece.

The crowd held their breath, each one hoping it wouldn't be their name read, that they would be safe for another year.

She teetered back to the mike and smoothed the slip of paper before announcing loudly, "Percy Jackson."