Disclaimer: Suzanne Collins owns "The Hunger Games". I do not.

Warning: Slash- Gale/Peeta, some dub/non consent for a few chapters, lemons.

Summary: The Quarter Quell is selectively calling for male tributes only. District Twelve is to send Gale and Peeta. How will they fare in the arena? Gale/Peeta Slash

Chapter One

Peeta stood before the clear cylinder that would lead him into the arena. A booming voice announced that there were five minutes left until he was meant to step onto the platform. Then, it would raise him up into a land he did not know, and never wanted to know. He did not know whether he would be greeted with green pastures filled with bright flowers, or dark woods filled with rapid rivers. The only thing he could see was his certain death, splayed across the screens of the Capitol and districts.

Luckily, he was able to choose most of his wardrobe for the games. He had found a comfortable pair of brown boots that he was quite capable of running in. He wore dark green pants that had many pockets for storing items. This would be especially helpful for times when it was not a good idea to haul around a heavy knapsack.

"TWO MINUTES!"

He looked down at his hands that were rough with calluses. He had practiced many different things this time, rather than disguises, which he had mastered. Since the day his name was announced, he had practiced daily with knives. His aim had improved tremendously through the weeks, and with his notable strength, he could really hurl it a great distance.

He was hoping to rely on camouflaging himself. If he saw individual people pass by, he could throw a knife and still remain relatively unseen. The only thing to worry about would be getting away from the body and disguising himself again. Also, what if the arena didn't leave room for much disguise tactics? He would be screwed if there wasn't some way to hide himself.

He was also fearful that because he was only in the Games last year, people would be on to his strategy. His skills were still fresh to the public eye. The other contestants would probably be watching more closely for him now that they knew what he was capable of.

"THIRTY SECONDS!"

Peeta closed his eyes and breathed slowly. He could do this. He had to do this. He would outlive the other eleven districts, and especially Gale. If Gale was the person that Katniss needed, he wouldn't be coming home to her again.

He stepped onto the platform as the countdown reached ten seconds. When it began to raise him, the familiar feeling of dread was almost too much for him. He felt a wave of nausea spread over him and he stumbled over himself to keep from falling into the arena. That's just what I need, he thought with a grimace, wouldn't that just be the best way to die in here.

All at once, the contestants leapt from their platforms and began to rush in different directions.

"Oh, shit!" Peeta muttered, and hopped down to the ground as well. If he was already too distracted to hear the Games begin, how could he be sure to last even a day in there?

He sprinted away from the center, hardly pausing to look at what lay there. It seemed to be some sort of pyramid structure. The bottom of the pyramid held the simplest of weapons and necessities while the top held items more vicious. The sun bounced off the shiny silver of a large, menacing looking sword at the top. Peeta felt ill from one glance at it.

He continued to run away from the pyramid. He couldn't quite tell what he was running to, but it was definitely different from his first experience in the arena. He ran in zigzag patterns until he passed under a large, broken arch-like structure.

His eyes widened. This place was incredible. The Game makers mimicked what looked like some sort of ancient ruins of an old civilization, something way older than Panem! It looked like what was left of District thirteen, but less gloomy. These ruins were covered in vines and wild flowers that flowed from the surrounding Jungle. There were steps that seemed to go miles high, and balconies and platforms that jutted out from impossible places to reach. Had Peeta not been fighting for his life right now, he knew this would be a place he could explore for hours. He really hoped for a good source of water. He knew what he could and couldn't eat, and he had learned to set a good number of traps. But if he couldn't any water, none of that would matter.

He looked around to make sure he had not been found. It had only been several minutes since it started, and he was hoping to see if anyone had made it to the top of the pyramid. He needed to know who had the best of the weapons.

When he felt certain that no one had followed him, he settled down in a part of the ruins where he could watch and remain unseen. He leaned against the golden brown wall and allowed himself to slide down until he was sitting. He ran a hand through his blond hair, wondering if this was the last time he'd ever feel it when it was clean. He felt defeated. He had not grabbed a single weapon, and had almost been killed out there when he lost his focus. But how is anyone supposed to focus in this arena? He knew he couldn't pretend to make alliances. The audience soon found out that Peeta was lying the whole time for the sake of Katniss. There was no way anyone would trust him after seeing that. He was on his own.

He took several minutes to calm down before looking to where he had ran from. There were several bodies lying dead beside the pyramid. Peeta hated that he immediately recognized them as less competition. When his eyes drifted to the top of the pyramid, his stomach clenched. Gale was there, standing proudly as he admired the sharp blade of the sword Peeta had seen. His shirt was torn revealing a large section of his tan, toned chest. There was blood smeared over nearly all of him, but he didn't appear to be injured in the slightest.

Peeta watched as he took his time gathering items into several knap sacks. He was envious to see Gale picking through the best of the items. Why couldn't someone from another district have killed him at the beginning? Gale was going to be the biggest competition for Peeta. He was terrified at the thought of the game coming down to them. Could Katniss forgive him if he killed her best friend?

When Gale seemed satisfied with what he'd collected, he began to swiftly make his way around the pyramid. As he reached the bottom stair, an object sailed by him in a blur and clattered into the pyramid. Peeta saw that it was an arrow. Another flew towards Gale, who ducked to avoid it. He flung his bags to the ground and began to shoot in the direction the arrows were coming from. Peeta watched, amazed at the swiftness with which Gale could pluck an arrow from his quiver and send it to his target. He certainly rivaled Katniss, and was maybe even better than her.

There was a loud cry, the sound of leaves shuffling, and a sickening crack as a boy from District two fell to the ground from the tree he was perched in. Gale ran over to him and did a quick scan to see if any others were around. The boy was young, and seemed to be in a great deal of pain. The arrow had struck his abdomen, and his fingers fidgeted around as he debated whether to yank it out or not. Gale leaned in close to the boy, brandishing a knife in his hand.

It was impossible to hear their conversation from Peeta's distance, but he was still able to see the frantic shake of the boy's head and the indifferent mask that Gale kept upon his face. When the boy had calmed down, he and Gale spoke for several minutes. Why hadn't Gale killed him? Peeta couldn't help but wonder what Gale was playing at. The boy gave several nods, and closed his eyes. Gale took the blade of the knife and slid it along the boy's throat. The sudden movement startled Peeta, who looked away from the spewing blood.

When Peeta returned his gaze, Gale had already collected his bags. He looked at the arch where Peeta had passed under just minutes before. He smiled, and headed toward the ruins.