AN: A tribute to manipulative season 1 Kurt who's grown up in a much less forgiving environment. I think I've been reading too many Slytherin fics this summer; that's my only explanation for this.
An action story sorely lacking in actual action scenes because I don't know how to write them well.
In the lunch hour on his first day of training, Kurt Hummel makes his first move. It's a gamble, and if it fails, everything after it is doomed to fall apart.
He waits until the curly-haired Career from District One gets up to refill his drink and drains his own glass, rising to catch up with him.
When he gets close enough to speak quietly, he announces his presence with a slight cough. The tribute turns around. "Hello," Kurt says. "Look, I haven't told anyone yet because I don't really trust anyone yet, but your group needs to be more careful, someone's been talking. Districts 1, 2, and 4 are allying and plan to run things from the Cornucopia," he finishes, fidgeting with his hands a bit and trying to look small.
The Career stares at him with his mouth agog and then, remembering himself, thanks Kurt. It's almost painfully earnest. "Blaine Anderson, District One," he introduces himself.
"Kurt Hummel, District Eleven," he responds in kind, with a slight tilt of the head.
"Look, I realize this is all a bit unorthodox, but I really appreciate it, Kurt. If you'd like to train together some time…?" he trails off.
Kurt schools his expression to look both surprised and grateful. He smiles warmly. "I'd be happy to, Blaine. I'm sure you've picked up a thing or two back home." Flatter the Careers, Sue's voice echoes in his head. If you have to talk to them, let them think you're a simpering fanboy.
Blaine nods, then takes a deep breath and heads back to the Career table with a dark expression weighing down his face.
Kurt smirks as he returns to his seat. The plan worked perfectly. Of course the Career districts are allying; they always do. The Careers will spend all of training hunting down a leak that doesn't exist.
Kurt knows his way around knives (I want you to know how to protect yourself, his father had pleaded as the Peacekeepers cracked down on his district, and knives were the most readily available weapons) but he lets Blaine teach him how to use a sword. He toes the thin line between lucky beginner and thoroughly useless. He acts properly appreciative of the lessons, but can't help but wonder why the Careers focus so much on obscure weapons like maces and swords when it tethers them to the bloodbath and the Cornucopia.
He chats with Blaine about Blaine's beloved brother, Cooper, himself a Victor, and sees something lighten in Blaine's expression.
"It must be nice for Cooper to have such a devoted brother," Kurt says with a soft smile, not bothering to bring up his own father back in District Eleven.
Let him think he's the only one with someone waiting for him. I'll be seen as less of a threat that way.
Kurt notices things.
Kurt notices the way Blaine's eyes follow him when he thinks no one is looking, notices the slowly deepening fissures in the Career districts, but he turns to his own district for allies. His mentor Sue Sylvester teaches at the local school, and Quinn Fabray was one of her favorites—beautiful, manipulative, dangerous. He'd be a fool to ignore her. One day he notices that Quinn has been training for the past hour with the District Ten girl, Tina, and he decides to track down her fellow tribute, Wes. He finds him at the fire starting station and expresses his appreciation for another tribute with the good sense to learn how to stay alive, then offers to teach him how to throw knives.
The four of them sit down for lunch together that day and every day after that.
Kurt watches. Kurt waits.
He doesn't tell anyone what he has planned for his session with the Gamemakers.
If no one knows, no one can stop him.
Kurt doesn't pick up a weapon. Instead he walks up to within a whisper's distance of the Gamemakers above him and pierces them with his eyes.
"While I was waiting for this day to come, I thought a lot about what I could show you and what you already know about me. But then I realized I had the most important weapon of all: what I know about you," he begins, and watches their brows furrow in confusion as he announces his intentions for this session.
"I could show you tracking, but as Heavensbee and Hunterson both wear a size 8.5 or 9 and weigh within 20 pounds of each other, I couldn't say which of you was making the tracks. I could show you running, but Crane's been doing enough of that lately between his last minute appointment as Head Gamemaker and all the time he spends going between the beds of Jasper and Zenolith's wives. Both of you were in District Two on business for two days, I understand. Might want to keep a closer eye on who you're letting into your households."
He pauses, letting his words sink in.
Hunterson laughs at first, glancing down at his feet and at Heavensbee's, but that laugh turns more uncertain as Kurt addresses Crane, slowly fading out to an uncomfortably clenched gulp.
Crane speaks first. "Hunterson, you didn't tell this little upstart tribute—"
Hunterson's eyes widen. "Lips are sealed, I swear."
Kurt nods, capitulating. "It's true. Hunterson's son Titus was the one to get Gala's daughter Heidi hooked on morphling and he can't even open his mouth to reprimand that sleazeball kid of his."
Gala suddenly surges from his chair to an upright position. "You," he hisses. "My daughter's been in treatment for months and you had the nerve to show up with your fucking son to her bedside—"
A chair creaks, and Zenolith is towering over Crane. "Let's get back to the part where you're entertaining my wife," he roars.
Kurt allows the Gamemakers a few minutes of shouting. But when Jasper goes to punch Crane, Kurt whistles loudly. Once, twice. The older men freeze and look down at him, remembering they are there to judge this tribute.
Kurt folds his arms. "I haven't even picked up a weapon yet. You've seen me in training; you know I can handle my way around a knife. But you might have wondered why Districts One, Two, and Four haven't been training together…this is why. I can take people, groups apart with a carefully placed word. Now imagine, it's the middle of the Games, half my group is starving, tempers are high, and I open my mouth…by the time they all realize they've been played, well, they're unfortunately a little bit dead. I've spent more time observing my fellow tributes than I did on you."
He smirks and steps toward the door before he can be dismissed, throwing one last comment over his shoulder: "I think we all know how I deserve to be scored, gentlemen."
Sue grumbles at him a bit for not even bothering to throw a knife at a target or anything, but she is quickly quieted by the playing of the Capitol anthem and the appearance of Caesar Flickerman on the screen in front of them.
He's not so stupid as to consider the careers his only threat, so he pays careful attention to all of their scores. Still, only a few stand out.
District One. Blaine Anderson, the curly-haired tribute who has a soft spot for charity cases. A fighter. Nine.
Rachel Berry, the deceptively tiny menace prone to making long speeches before she throws ninja stars ("because I'm a star") at them. Nine.
District Two. David Karofsky, slightly dimwitted but built like a tank. Eight.
Santana Lopez, whose district token of a charm necklace was confiscated after revealing a dozen concealed razor blades. Nine.
District Four. Sam Evans, muscular, loyal, and gifted with a trident. Ten. He raises an eyebrow at the first double-digit score.
The rest of the scores are unremarkable, until Flickerman announces District Ten and Kurt sits up a little. Not that his alliance will last long, anyway, but he's interested in seeing how they're all perceived.
District Ten. Wes Pennington. Fit, actually paid attention to the survival skill stations, intelligent, and good with a bow. Ten.
Tina Cohen-Chang. Soft-spoken, a good climber, but more of a runner than a fighter. Five. I can use that, he realizes, and the final part of his plan to disassemble his alliance falls into place.
District Eleven, and he inhales quickly as his picture shows up on the screen. Caesar raises his eyebrows at the number on the teleprompter. "Well, we're in for a treat this year, folks—Kurt Hummel from District Eleven with our very first score of twelve!"
He realizes a few things. First, this might be the Gamemakers' way of keeping control of him—after all, it'll be harder for tributes to underestimate him with that score. But second, and more importantly, he realizes that they're scared of him, and for good reason: he can win these Games.
Sue leans forward and thumps him on the back. "Excellent job, kid," is all she says, but he sees the assessing look on Quinn's face and he basks in it.
Quinn Fabray. Disarmingly attractive, and she knows it. Will smile at you as she stabs you in the back. Nine. She lets out a breath quickly, and Kurt and Sue congratulate her.
The Games will begin tomorrow when their alliance of four meets up again with their training scores in hand.
Back in District One, Sebastian Smythe notices something.
Oh, he's seen the assessing looks the trainers at school send him, heard the whispers that he's to be volunteered next year when he turns eighteen, bathed in his classmates' envy for every aspect of training that just comes easily to him. You make us proud every day, son, his father says.
But sitting in the academy auditorium with the rest of his classmates, watching the release of the tributes' training scores, he hears his combat instructor Gloss let out an audible curse as the kid from Eleven scores a twelve.
What's more, he even hears the hulking man whisper to his sister Cashmere, "I talked to Jasper…you won't believe what Hummel did in his session."
Every year when the Reaping happens, his classmates make snide comments about the scrawny kids from the outlying districts.
Every year when the Reaping happens, none of them are so dangerous as to score a twelve, a feat none of the Careers have even accomplished.
Sebastian lets a smile lazily make its way up the left side of his face as his classmates break out into astonished, frantic whispers. Kurt Hummel. He is sixteen. He is chaos. Good for you, kid.
Kurt begins to plant the seeds in all three of his allies. Pitying glances at Tina (her score versus their scores), preferring Wes and Tina's company over Quinn's (she ignored him back home; it was all of her own making), preferring the girls' company over Wes' (he was too serious, too smart, too…everything).
He watches. He waits. He knows their insecurities.
Sue instructs him to play coy with the Capitol in his interview, to be a heartbreaker. He's never even so much as kissed a boy, but he doesn't bother voicing that particular concern to his (frankly, a bit terrifying) mentor. He thinks of it as an acting exercise, trying on the costume of someone else. Wearing Capitol Kurt's skin.
Sebastian sits with his classmates Jeff and Nick in his room at home in the main square of District One, viewing screens tuned in to the evening's ceremony: the tribute interviews. It's definitely one of his favorite parts of the Games: matching a living, breathing, talking person to the training score.
He wonders how the mentors are going to coach Anderson and Berry, and he admits to himself that though the two may be the strongest eighteen-year-olds in the academy, this is a relatively weak year for his district. Anderson may be eager to fight, but he's also a genuinely good person. The kind to adopt puppies off the street or some shit like that. Berry, on the other hand, is a walking temper tantrum. Get her mad enough and she's likely to forget to kill you before she can reprimand you for half an hour at minimum.
It's just as well I'm a year behind them, he muses to himself. He saw enough of them at the academy as it was.
Caesar finishes his introduction to the 74th Games, and Rachel flounces on stage in a deep red plunging evening gown and towering black stilettos. Jeff barks out a laugh. "They're trying to make her seem less tiny," he explains, and Nick and Sebastian laugh along with him. Rachel is single-minded in her interview, focused on "being the greatest star in the Capitol, Caesar—I might be coming after your job!"
Caesar knows how to play up his responses for the cameras, and the raised eyebrows and gulp are paired with an "Unfortunately, Miss Berry, our time is up, but I'll be running in the other direction if I see you after these Games are done!"
Blaine is eager, but eager only to get in the arena and fight. The mentors seem to have picked up on his weakness, his fondness for collecting stray cats, and wiped it out of him for the interview. Anything to appear strong, reckless, indomitable. His curls are wilder than he usually wears them and together it all makes him seem almost unhinged.
Sebastian turns to his friends after the interview is over. "That was smart," he says. "None of the really weak tributes will be looking to him for protection now," and the two nod and agree.
As they're all in the same year, there's no way Jeff or Nick will ever see the inside of the arena themselves, but he likes them because they understand how the Games are about so much more than fighting.
They dissect all the other tributes' appearances and mannerisms and interactions with Caesar, but Sebastian has to admit his heart isn't fully in it until they get to District Eleven.
"This I want to see," he explains, leaning forward and turning up the volume, and Jeff's eyes widen and he nods quickly with a sly grin. It's all Jeff can talk about: a kid who's built like him, lithe, pale, has somehow upset all the Careers and scored a twelve. Sebastian thinks he might be nursing a little crush.
"…Let's give a warm welcome to one Miss Quinn Fabray from District Eleven!" Caesar yells over the applause, and out strolls the pretty blonde in a practically transparent pale blue gown. Nick coughs. "I…I'm not sure where to look," he mumbles, and Jeff cackles.
Quinn's angle is obvious, the temptress, but when Kurt Hummel comes out in a pale blue suit that picks up the color of his eyes, and winks at Caesar, Sebastian realizes his angle is altogether more dangerous: the innocent, unconscious flirt.
Jeff, who has an eye for the sartorial aspects of the Games, notices that Quinn and Kurt are wearing the same color. "An alliance?" he ponders out loud, and Nick and Sebastian hum noncommittally.
"Kurt Hummel, everyone!" Caesar half-bellows, shaking hands with the pale, well-coiffed tribute. Kurt shyly grins and Sebastian swears he can hear a few sighs from the audience as the boy sits down.
"Now, Kurt," Caesar begins, staring intently, "I'm going to get straight to business with you."
"Oh, Caesar," Kurt interrupts breathlessly, "what makes you think I'd enjoy playing it straight?" and as his words catch up to him, the boy blushes, as if at his own audacity.
Nick coughs to cover up a laugh. Jeff giggles. Sebastian lets out a low whistle.
Is that a blush on Caesar's face? Regardless, the emcee continues, slightly flustered. "I'm sure many of our adoring fans here would love to know more, but I meant I'd love to discuss your training score. Twelve," he says, quirking an eyebrow for emphasis.
"Oh," Kurt says with a giggle, "That. I was surprised and honored by the Gamemakers' high regard, and while I can't say too much more, I'm fairly sure it was a first for them."
The interview is far too short. Nick grins when it's over. "You know who he reminds me of? Jeff. He's...nice, the way you are."
Sebastian hopes not. Nice never got anyone far in the Hunger Games and he can't help but root for this kid from bumfuck nowhere now that he's thoroughly upset the system with his training score and his dancing eyes.
Five…four…three…two…one…
Kurt spends the last thirty seconds of the countdown gesticulating at Tina and Quinn. He's two pedestals down from Wes. Perfect, he thinks as they all take in their surroundings. Woodland.
He thinks he's gotten the message across. The girls are to flee the bloodbath together and head to the woods behind them. He and Wes will skirt the edge of the fields after circumventing the Cornucopia and meet up with them in the woods.
Kurt races into the Cornucopia as the cannon goes off and grabs Wes' bow and arrows before most of the tributes can react. Too much fuss, he bemoans. Knives, the pedestrian choice, are everywhere. Kurt grabs a sleeve full of them from the Cornucopia as well as a backpack, and arms himself with a nasty-looking hunting knife.
As he's leaving, the female tribute from Four enters and sneers at him. The knife is in her throat before she can react. He yanks it out and keeps moving. The bloodbath is beginning. The girls are gone. He sprints into the field and finds Wes, who has a green backpack of his own. The two nod at each other as Kurt hands him the bow and arrows, and with one last glance to make sure they aren't being pursued, they head far away from the Cornucopia, far from death.
There's water in Kurt's backpack, and after about an hour's walk, they stop in a particularly thick patch of wheat to drink some of it and gather themselves.
"I can track footprints," Kurt admits, "so hopefully I'll know when we're near the girls."
Wes nods. Logical. It makes sense. He likes Kurt because Kurt has plans that make sense.
Kurt hesitates. "There's one thing I need to tell you before we meet up with them," he warns Wes. "I'm telling you this because I respect your intelligence and know you'll understand the difficulties we're facing," and if that doesn't make Wes internally puff out his chest a bit, nothing will. "I'm worried they're planning to take us out. Back in the Capitol I walked in on them talking about…well, they didn't seem keen on telling me what it was, but they weren't happy I interrupted it. They were friends first and all that, and Quinn and I may be from the same district but there's no lost love there. And wouldn't now be a perfect opportunity? We're not suspecting anything, we don't know if they have weapons, we're going in with arms outstretched."
Wes freezes. "What are you suggesting we do?" he asks.
"We hide," Kurt answers.
Tina and Quinn are wandering through the woods, trying to keep under cover while still staying near the edge of the wheat field.
"We need to find the boys," Quinn says intently. "They'll know what to do. Hopefully we can stick together a while and not have to worry about keeping watch all the time."
"Larger group, more people to take turns sleeping," Tina says, getting the gist of it.
Quinn bites her lip. "I know it's optimistic of me, but I'm worried about what we'll do if we get to the final four. I know Kurt, I respect him, and I can't see myself killing someone I respect—it's hard earned for me."
Tina groans. "Let's hope we can even make it that far, and then…I don't know, I can't see myself killing any of you. Or anyone, for that matter. I guess they knew what they were doing when they gave me that five."
Tina trails off, pausing near some undergrowth, head tilted slightly. "Do you hear something?" she asks.
"SEBASTIAN! You're missing it!" Jeff screams from the other room.
Sebastian hurries back from the bathroom to Jeff and Nick, who are leaning forward, eyes locked on the screen. The girls from Districts Ten and Eleven are dead, an arrow sticking out of the back of Eleven.
"What'd I miss?" he asks, internally groaning at having piss-poor timing.
Nick doesn't take his eyes off the building action as he responds, hurriedly, "Hummel tracked the girls' footprints and hid with Pennington in some bushes near them. Staged a conversation to make girl Ten think that girl Eleven was supposed to kill her before they all met up. Made it all about her training score, god knows I'd have a stick up my ass about that too if I got a five. Girl Ten went nuts and attacked Eleven, Eleven choked her to death, and here's the thing: Pennington still doesn't realize he was played. Thinks he and Hummel were talking about the alliance between the girls from Five and Nine since Nine had such a low score, thinks that Eleven just went nuts and attacked Ten. Pennington shot Eleven before she could turn on them too."
Jeff nods sagely, eyes still pinned to the screen. "Now sit down and shut up, Hummel and Pennington are on."
Sebastian obliges.
On screen, Kurt is beginning to tear up, eyes wide and crystal blue. "I don't know what happened, Wes, these Games change people...I feel awful, Tina's gone, what could Quinn have been thinking?" He lets out a single sob and his shoulders begin to shake.
Wes isn't much of one for comfort, but Kurt is just so nice to him and so respectful of his brain for once unlike all of the other kids who've picked on him for preferring books to being outside in District Ten.
So he figures it's no big deal if he hugs the boy who's clearly struggling with this. He can be nice too.
As the cannon sounds a thundering crack and Kurt pulls the hunting knife out of Wes Pennington's back, Sebastian realizes they were all wrong about him. Kurt isn't nice; he's lethal.
It's a particularly bloody first day. Half the tributes dead at the Cornucopia, another three (in)directly at Kurt's hands, and Berry runs into the boy from Three as the sun is setting and makes quick work of him. Eight remain: Anderson and Berry from One, Lopez and Karofsky from Two, Evans from Four, Chang from Five, Jones from Six, and Hummel from Eleven.
You do anything and everything to get home, son, his father had insisted. I'll love you all the same.
After a fitful night's sleep, carefully hidden in the wheat field, Kurt wanders further into the woods looking for signs of life. He finds a stream running through the woods and refills his water bottle, adding an iodine tablet and praying as he takes his first sip that he won't end up dead on his back. Glancing across the stream after a moment, decidedly alive, he sees some footprints in the mud and crosses over to take a closer look. Men's size 12 and 10, he estimates. Karofsky and Evans. A smile blooms on his face as he takes off after them.
Sebastian sputters out a laugh. "He's flirting with both of them!"
Nick groans. "Great, there are two Sebastians. Just what we needed."
Night falls and Karofsky takes the first watch. Kurt waits for Sam to fall asleep before he carefully leaves his knife in plain sight on the ground—he needs Karofsky to trust him—before approaching the larger boy.
"Can't sleep," he murmurs. "Want me to take over?" He knows he'll say no, as a point of pride. He's right.
"Nah, it's fine," Karofsky mutters.
"Mind if I sit?" Kurt asks, and gets a shake of the head in return.
"I…I really admire you, you know," he tells the larger boy quietly after a moment. "Can't imagine how you didn't go crazy with Anderson nosing his way around all your business for two weeks. And you're just so much stronger than the rest of us, it's crazy. I mean…look at you," he says with a slight laugh.
Their eyes meet. The silence is loaded.
Kurt makes the first move, kissing Karofsky in the dark of night with Sam Evans sleeping not five yards away.
He doesn't have to pretend to be inexperienced or unsure; his lack of romantic history does that for him. Soon he coaxes Karofsky into pushing him onto his back, the larger boy pressing down on him, moving from his lips to his neck, sucking at it with a hint of teeth. Kurt knows this is supposed to feel good, but he's not attracted to this boy, so he feels strangely distant from the whole experience, like he's looking down at himself from above.
The air is quiet. He takes a calculated risk, that with their three training scores, no one is poking around in the night around them. As Karofsky sucks another hickey into his neck, he stretches his arm out as if to reach for his knife, and screams, "Sam!"
This time Sebastian is the only one watching, as Jeff and Nick are off somewhere making out, and he feels like a bit of a fifth wheel between his friends and the steamy (by Games standards) scene unfolding on the screen in front of him.
He notices a little tinge of jealousy as the camera shows dark bruises forming on Kurt's pale skin, and he files that away for further consideration later.
Careers have been known to initiate things from time to time because who else in the Games could have the confidence to kiss among killers? It's another way in which Kurt defies the conventions of the Games, unwritten but well-codified after nearly three quarters of a century.
But the moment is interrupted, and Sebastian furrows his brow as Kurt shouts for Evans. What…? he wonders, not understanding what Kurt is doing.
But Evans darts up from his sleep, hand on his trident, and Kurt pushes Karofsky away after a moment so Evans can take in the scene (larger boy on top, smaller boy about to cry, hopelessly reaching for his dropped weapon) and Kurt can distance himself from his target.
Kurt's eyes are wide. "I…I woke up," he stutters, "and he was on top of me. I didn't want it I didn't—"
And Sam, thinking only of his little sister who he'd had to defend from a boyfriend once, throws the trident first and asks questions later.
Karofsky dies before he can so much as begin to defend himself.
Kurt scoops up his knife and cradles it to him. Evans approaches the shaking boy, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm okay," Kurt gasps out. Then his voice goes flat and hollow. "I'm so sorry, Sam, you're such a genuinely good person—" and he slits his throat.
He needs Sam to die quickly so he can keep his story straight for his next ally.
Jeff and Nick wander back soon after. The night is still once again. The Gamemakers have prompted a map of the arena to show up on the viewers' screens, showing that Jones is sleeping worryingly close to Lopez. Something is bound to come of that in the morning.
Sebastian has to explain what happened with the three boys, and he tries to act properly excited about the latest deaths, but somehow it feels off, like it's wrong somehow.
Jeff expresses incredulity at what Kurt has managed to pull off and makes him rewind the Games so he can see it for himself.
It's when Kurt drops the knife before approaching Karofsky that Sebastian realizes just how premeditated the entire scene was, and that there's a bit of darkness in him.
He ignores that thought as Jeff cheers and exclaims over how cool and cunning Kurt is.
This isn't a game, he realizes. It's a coronation.
Kurt catches up to his next target halfway through the next day. He stows his knife away before approaching the tribute crouched down by a crackling fire.
"Hello, Blaine," Kurt murmurs, eyes downcast. "You won't believe the luck I've had."
And he spins a sad story of being separated from his allies as he went to fetch firewood, coming back to them all dead and no other tributes in sight, not even knowing what happened to them, then being assaulted by Karofsky, his savior Sam getting caught by Karofsky's sword and dying along with him, then he's lifting up the corner of his shirt to show the evidence littering his neck. It was my first kiss, he admits dejectedly, and it is then that he knows he has him hooked.
It's about ten percent true, but there's no one around who can contradict him.
Dead tributes tell no tales, after all.
A cannon sounds soon after.
"That's five of us left," Blaine observes.
Kurt smiles prettily at him. "Either Rachel or Santana, or probably both of them, is left, and they're both dangerous. I think it's so great how you're trying to get back to your brother…I wish I cared that much about anyone back home. I'll help you the best I can for as long as I can."
Blaine grins back at him. True, he'd been doing just fine on his own, even killed three tributes, but it was nice to be around someone who appreciated him for the good person he was. He was a great brother. And if that meant turning on Kurt when the two of them got to the end so he could go back to his brother, then so be it.
No one else dies that day, and it is revealed that night that Mercedes Jones from District Six is dead.
"You were right," Blaine admires.
Kurt shrugs. "I don't know them well, but neither Rachel nor Santana seem the type to go down easily."
Neither do you, Sebastian thinks, staring at Kurt's profile, before he sighs and turns off the Games and prays for a sleep without dreams of death for once this week.
They wake up to the roar and heat of fire being flung their way and quickly, shouting over the flames, gather up their belongings and sprint toward the stream, Kurt, the faster runner, brandishing Blaine's sword to clear any vines in their way. Kurt is sure they're being coaxed toward another tribute, but he prefers those odds over staying and being flambéed to death.
They keep going, dodging fireballs and falling trees, when suddenly a black blur leaps into Kurt's view some twenty yards ahead of them, and he realizes it's a tribute when it keeps running from the fire.
Blaine's the one to identify her. "It's Santana," he whisper-shouts, and the fire seems to be subsiding up ahead now that the three of them are together. She takes a moment to rest, doubled over, hands on her thighs, a patch of her right arm scorched and a chunk of her long hair singed off, before she glances up and sees Blaine and Kurt behind her.
She jumps. "Of all the times to lose my spear," she hisses, and draws herself into a defensive crouch.
Kurt knows better than to assume she is unarmed, so he hangs back while Blaine storms ahead and throws a punch at her. Suddenly she's yanking an axe out of nowhere and Kurt shouts a warning at Blaine, who gets grazed on the shoulder but manages to sidestep any further damage.
Kurt looks down at his own hands, clenched around the broadsword, and shouts, "Blaine, grab it!" as he tosses the sword downhill toward him. The physics are a bit different than throwing a small knife and it wobbles perilously, but Blaine manages to grab it and thrust upward all seemingly at the same time, impaling a yowling Santana in her left side. Her hands go to the wound and Blaine quickly jerks her head to the side, letting her body fall to the ground as he pulls out his sword and trots back up the hill.
He grins. "Well, that just made things a little easier," Blaine exclaims, and Kurt inwardly cringes at how this boy manages to take such delight in killing.
It happens before the Gamemakers even have a chance to fine tune their newest muttations and release them into the arena: three of them are left.
It is revealed that night that Mike Chang from District Five died some time that day, and Kurt theorizes that he and Rachel must have run into each other while he and Blaine were running or fighting Santana; it's the only explanation for why they wouldn't have noticed a cannon firing.
They're almost out of water the next morning, so Kurt suggests they head back to the stream where it'll be easier to track footprints if there are any. There's a freshly made track by the bend and Kurt suggests Blaine go fill up the bottles while he organizes his things which is code for slips a knife down his jacket sleeve because you never know what's going to happen. Then Kurt sees a glint of something around the bend of the stream, but allows them to be snuck up on by Rachel Berry, who looks almost crazed in her haste to find him.
She whips out one of her stars before Blaine stumbles back from filling up their water bottles. His eyes widen as he takes in the scene, and he yells, "Rachel!"
She pivots and gasps as she sees her district partner with both water bottles, putting two and two together at once.
"You're together? Oh, don't make me laugh. Blaine, he's from Eleven. And there are three of us left, what did you think would happen?"
Kurt shrinks back, looking properly cowed, but as he clasps his arms behind his back, he pulls the concealed knife out of his jacket sleeve and grips it tightly in his right hand.
"Blaine," she reprimands him. "He would have died a long time ago without you anyway. Come on, let's end this honorably, with a battle between District One's best fighters."
Kurt, struck mute, shifts the knife around in his grip behind his back.
The cameras are always on you, Sue's voice hisses in his head and taking a deep breath, he relaxes his jaw and gives the Capitol those doe eyes that always worked on his father. Slowly he backs up against a nearby tree so his knife-wielding hand has something to disappear behind, though the effect is of a terrified tribute clinging to the broad oak for support.
Rachel interrupts her own monologue. "Don't you even think of running, District Eleven," she hisses, then, turning to Blaine, sweetens her voice and one of those intrusive stray thoughts has Kurt hoping she never takes up acting as her talent if she makes it out of the arena. If. "So, what's it going to be?" she asks Blaine smugly.
In one deceptively quiet moment, Kurt's prey takes one step too near to him and he pounces.
Sebastian, Jeff, and Nick begin to cheer as it becomes apparent that Berry is heading due southeast along the bank of the stream and will meet up with Anderson and Hummel within minutes. Her arms are a bit scratched up from slipping on the wet rocks and she hasn't eaten all day in her determination to track down Hummel, but she is otherwise in good shape.
Any of the three of them could come out of this; they've all done well in the games, but Sebastian has to admit he's nervous for Kurt as Rachel turns the charm on Blaine. Then the pale boy backs up against a tree and a new camera angle shows what he's been hiding behind his back.
"A knife," Jeff crows. "Come on, Kurt, shut her up!"
Then there's a flurry of movement and they all gasp as the body of Blaine Anderson drops to the ground, Kurt's hunting knife embedded in his heart.
It wasn't like he was planning on keeping Blaine around indefinitely; the boy had his use and now was more useful dead. There could only be one winner of the Hunger Games.
So while Rachel prattles on about district obligations and piety, he waits for his ally to step within a lunge's reach. Then he quickly jabs out and buries his knife from the bloodbath deep in Blaine's heart.
Rachel freezes mid-sentence as the cannon sounds. "You…how could you?" she stutters out. "B-but District One, and it's thanks to him—"
Kurt notices things.
There's a large, blunted rock on the stream's edge.
Unarmed, he flings himself at Rachel Berry and tackles her to the ground, fumbles for the rock, and imagines he's back in the fields of District Eleven as he begins to methodically bash her head in.
"That was messier than I usually get," he declares, halfway covered in blood. "I'd really like a change of clothes now if that could be arranged," he continues, imperiously, and Seneca Crane obliges with a rope ladder lowered from a hovercraft after announcing his victory to all of Panem.
Sebastian is still staring at the screen blankly as Nick and Jeff give the boy a standing ovation. "I can't believe it," Jeff babbles, "going after Blaine first, he didn't even see it coming—"
"That must have been the point," Nick reasons, voice awed. "He knew Blaine would turn on him, he cared more about his brother than he cared about Kurt, but he counted on Berry being too shocked at her plans being interrupted—"
"Hook, line, and sinker," Jeff cackles. "He played everyone," and with that, Jeff and Nick share a high five.
Sebastian seems to wake up from his stupor at the sudden sound. "Well, the fan club is happy, I see," he says wryly.
A smug Jeff responds, "Remember whose father is Head Peacekeeper—you can meet him on the Victory Tour unless you're not a member of the fan club too like I know you are."
Sebastian flips his middle finger at him, but says nothing.
"I did something bad, Caesar, do you think you can forgive me?" Kurt asks the television host, pouting slightly as the audience gasps.
"I'm sure we'll all forgive you, Kurt," Caesar declares, leaning forward and patting the boy's hand.
"Let me tell you all a secret," Kurt intones, leaning forward in kind. "It starts with a boy getting reaped from District Eleven, and his father who he loves more than anyone or anything in the world. He loves him so much that he never acknowledges that he exists once he is reaped."
Caesar nods, tears sparkling in his eyes. "And you didn't tell anyone about him because—"
"—I didn't want him to be used as a personal weakness. Not like I did with Cooper for Blaine. If no one knew, no one could use him to hurt me."
"Kurt, let me ask you something. What did your father say to you, after you were reaped?"
"He told me I needed to do anything and everything to get home, Caesar." He blinks, and this time he isn't controlling the tears peeking around the corners of his eyes. "And he told me that he'd love me no matter what."
"And that's what you did, Kurt. And I'm sure that you'll be seeing him soon."
Kurt nods, and for the first time since he was reaped, a real smile blooms on his face.
When the Victory Tour reaches District One, Sebastian actually takes interest in his role as Head Peacekeeper's son for once. He'd been charged with escorting Kurt Hummel to the dinner, and he appears to take this very seriously—ushering Kurt through the district square, dressed to the nines, even smiling and not smirking for once.
Then the elevator rumbles to a stop with him and Kurt the only people inside. He presses the call button. "Hello?" he asks, pressing it again.
No answer.
He tries once more. "Hello? We seem to be stuck in here."
No answer.
He sighs, then, hand rubbing his forehead, he turns to face Kurt.
"Welcome to District One, then. I swear this doesn't usually happen."
Kurt shrugs, then slides down the wall as he sits on the elevator floor in his pristine charcoal suit. "Kurt Hummel," he introduces himself, patting the spot on the ground next to him.
Sebastian joins him. "Sebastian Smythe," he responds in kind.
He's thought a lot about what he'll say the first time he meets Kurt, who he's decided he simultaneously fears and harbors a huge crush on, which probably requires all kinds of therapy. It isn't this:
"I still have nightmares about what happened with Evans and Karofsky."
Kurt's eyes betray his surprise as he looks around, as if he still doesn't fully trust that there's no one else in the elevator with them. He sighs, then opens his mouth. "I do too."
Sebastian bites his lower lip. "They want me to volunteer next year. I wanted to do it too, for the longest time, but then I watched your Games, and it's like I'd never really watched them or something. People die, and we all just keep going. But I'm fucked if I don't volunteer."
Kurt eyes the security camera in the upper corner of the elevator, then looks back at Sebastian. The message is obvious.
"It's off," Sebastian assures him. "My dad's Head Peacekeeper; I just threw his name around a bit when I paid them off to shut down the elevator."
Kurt snorts once, then suddenly the two of them are laughing uncontrollably.
"You…paid them…" Kurt gasps. "To shut down the fucking elevator?"
Sebastian winks at him. "Desperate times, darling," and that sets off another round of laughter.
Slowly they gather themselves together and Kurt finally responds to Sebastian. "Do anything, I mean anything, you can to get out of it. You know about me and my dad, how we're the only ones left in my family and we're very close?"
Sebastian nods, wondering where this is going.
Kurt's face turns somber. "The only reason his head is still attached to his body is because I've agreed to let Snow sell me to the highest bidder when I get to the Capitol."
If the security camera was on in that elevator, it would see just one thing: a sobbing thin boy being held by a shell-shocked freckled boy, his eyes seemingly thousands of miles away.
Sebastian's parents are thrilled that their son has befriended a Victor, thinking this is just another step toward his inevitable victory next year in the 75th Games. So of course they agree to let him travel with his new friend to the Capitol, where he could even meet Gamemakers if he keeps moving in the right circles.
So he moves into the adjacent hotel room in the Capitol and comforts Kurt when he sneaks back into the suite in the dead of night, tears trailing down his cheeks, part of Sebastian wishing he better understood how Kurt felt, most of Sebastian hoping to never know it for himself.
He ends up having a lot of nights to grapple with this.
Kurt's seventeenth birthday is approaching, so Sebastian approaches Snow (remind him to never do that again, the man is terrifying) and pays for Kurt for a whole day, and they go out to a park on the outskirts of the Capitol where it's nice and quiet and they just sit on the swings and talk for a while.
Coming back to the hotel after dinner at one of the Capitol's most fashionable restaurants, Kurt stops in the lobby restroom and walks in on a man splashing water on his face. His clothes are disheveled.
Kurt smiles at him as he turns around. "We're having birthday cake in my room if you'd like to join us," he says, offering a hand to Finnick Odair.
The older man grins. "A beautiful man offering me cake," he replies. "I think all my dreams have come true," and he takes Kurt's outstretched hand.
It never magically becomes easy, but with Finnick as a friend, Kurt finds that it gets a little easier pretending he wants to be with all of these men.
The entire academy is gathered in the auditorium for the announcement of the Third Quarter Quell. President Snow steps up to the podium on the huge screen in front of them, a sealed envelope clasped in his hand.
"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder that not even our youngest citizens were free from the violence of the Rebellion, the twenty-four tributes are to be picked from those in the Districts between the ages of eight and twelve."
Nick gasps, no doubt thinking of his brother, nine years old and not due to begin training for another year. But selfishly all Sebastian can think is one thing.
I'm free. I'll never have to play the Hunger Games. I'm free.
Kurt doesn't come to visit him in District One; he's too busy working on his talent with his designer Narcissa.
Or that's what he says.
In reality the price he pays for saving Sebastian—the price Finnick pays for saving Annie's younger sister—is more money than his father would ever see back home in District Eleven and a weekend with a number of ministers from Snow's cabinet.
Kurt's hands don't stop shaking for days. Finnick tries to teach him to tie knots, but he can't keep his fingers still enough.
There are some things he shares with Sebastian and, even years later, there will still be things Sebastian has to poke and pry out of him. This will be one of them.
Sebastian's parents are surprisingly okay with their son never entering the arena; logically, after all, there's nothing to be done about the fact that his last year of eligibility falls the same year of the Quell. What's done is done.
Others are less happy about the Quell.
A nine-year-old girl from District Two is killed in the bloodbath and her father just happens to be the district's mayor.
The coup is bloodless, if you ignore the corpse of President Snow left gasping for air on the floor of his mansion.
Sebastian finally gets a call from Kurt after he comes home from school three days later.
"Sebastian, we can talk, as in actually talk," Kurt says as a fairly confusing greeting.
"You'll have to explain," the older man trails off.
"Finn and I met with President Starling. No one's bugging my phone or my hotel room any more. I don't have any more appointments. I can come and go as I please. No more Games. I just…I just can't believe it but Starling sent his security team to my room and they dismantled every single camera and gave me a government ID and I really want to go see you but I need to go see my dad first and tell him everything," he says in one giant breath.
Sebastian grins. "So I'll see you in five years or so when that man finally lets you out of his sight."
Kurt sighs. "Look, um, I don't want this to be weird, but Finn's coming with me. I mean, it's not like that, he's going to propose to Annie any day now, but I don't want you to be uncomfortable or see us in some trashy Capitol tabloid on another alleged romantic excursion and not know what's going on. He's going to help explain everything to my dad."
It's the closest Kurt has come to acknowledging they're actually together. He knows not to push it, knows it took Kurt a lot to say anything. "Love, I'm offended by the insinuation I have time to read trashy Capitol tabloids now that I have to actually figure out how to be an upstanding member of society and everything," he moans.
"I'll take that as an okay," Kurt deadpans.
They're together at a gathering of victors and relatives from District Four when Finn introduces Kurt (and by extension Sebastian, as he won't let the younger man out of his sight) to Haymitch Abernathy.
"Be careful around him," Finnick stage-whispers to Kurt. "He's still bitter you're my best man," and, grinning, trots off to talk to Annie and Johanna Mason.
Kurt shrugs, used to ignoring Finnick when he says stupid things. "Kurt Hummel," he says, extending a hand to the grizzled victor from Twelve. "This parasitic growth I have attached to my side is Sebastian Smythe," and with that, Sebastian whacks him on the head. Kurt turns to him. "I swear to god, if you messed up my hair," he threatens, before politely turning back to Haymitch and extending his hand all over again. Haymitch visibly gulps before shaking his hand, then turns to Sebastian, saying, "Boy, if I were you, I'd start running yesterday."
Sebastian smiles widely at the older man. "Scared, huh? I must have thanked my parents one hundred times for not having me a year earlier—District One, I was set to be the next volunteer."
Haymitch nods abruptly, still seemingly attempting to puzzle the two of them out. Then Kurt catches Johanna sneaking looks at him out of the corner of her eye. He sighs and clears his throat loudly.
"If I could have your attention," he half-shouts. The din dies down and all eyes are on him.
"Hello, my name is Kurt Hummel. I won the 74th Hunger Games. I believe you all were required to watch it, just as I saw some of your games. Now, that being said, have I treated any of you any differently because of how you behaved in the arena? No? I decided to get to know you as people instead? Haven't hid my butter knives from you, Johanna? Funny," he huffs.
Finn comes up behind him and slaps him on the back. "Come on, everyone, Kurt's my friend. And yes, I'm still a little scared of him—don't hit me, Kurt, your Games were some fucked up shit—" and thankfully Annie pulls him away with a please pity me for all I put up with look at Kurt.
He feels all the eyes in the room digging holes into him where he stands.
Two years later and he still struggles with all the attention he gets. He blushes and stammers out, "And of course, congratulations to Annie and Finnick, let's get back to that now…"
Sebastian notices things. As he strolls over to his boyfriend and kisses him on the forehead, not even hiding his attempts to ruffle his hair, he notices the room begin to relax and the victors actually focusing on their conversations instead of dancing circles around Kurt.
They're all going to watch Finnick and Annie get married together. And then he thinks he might invite most of these people to his and Kurt's wedding (he's not in a huge rush to propose when they live together in the Capitol anyway).
Whatever.
He has a funny notion that it's all going to be okay.