Hi! SO I posted the last chapter in a bit of a rush and I feel like I should include more of an explanation now. This is a fic in which all of the Glee characters are in Panem (pre-rebellion). It's also extreme Klaine, but not until somewhere in the middle. This isn't the same arena as the book or anything, but there will be some plot similarities. Anyway please read and enjoy!
Kurt has never been on a train, although he'd helped build their engines more times than he could count. The past hour and a half had been agonizing. Saying good bye to his father, then trying to look brave, maybe even intimidating for the cameras as he boarded the train to the Capitol. It had been excruciating. Kurt just wasn't really cut out for this type of thing. Usually he let his emotions show and tried to do what his heart told him, but that's not how a victor is supposed to act.
The platform at the train station is crammed with cameras as Kurt and his girl tribute counterpart board the locomotive that will take them to their death. She appears to be a year or two younger than him and she trips at the station due to tears leaking down her cheeks. She looks like she has been crying for quite a while because her eyes are red, puffy, and swollen.
Kurt catches her as she falls and helps her on to the train. She gives him a grateful yet watery smile. Emma Pillsbury directs them both to their rooms in separate cars. It is by far the fanciest place Kurt had ever been, including the Mayor's house, which he has entered on precisely one occasion.
It was when he was 8, and his school had put on a musical. Overall it was a joke. Nobody had the time or money to be bothered with such a silly form of entertainment, but Kurt had done his best. Those who were upper class enough to go see it at Mayor Figgin's house said his voice was exquisite. Kurt sang every day from then on out.
Now he is standing in a bedroom that is rocking back and forth, back and forth. Kurt's head spins as the realization of what had happened swoops down on him. He barely makes it to the toilet before he is puking.
Kurt isn't the type of guy with a weak stomach, he'd spent years working in smelly factories, but what strikes him now is much worse than motion sickness or anything of the like. It is a cold dread that has been sneaking up on him since his name had been picked.
Now the full force hits him in the gut, causing him to double over the toilet until his body is spent and empty. Even then he dry heaves several times, stomach convulsing painfully, beads of sweat gliding down the side of his face.
After several moments on the floor, trying to rally some energy, Kurt strips and gets into the shower. His apartment complex back home had running water, but you had to pump it with a big faded green leaver. Even then the water was rarely clean, and always cold.
Usually it came out specked with rust from the worn lead pipes and brown in color. Kurt shudders, remembering taking showers in the winter. He and his dad's apartment was also extremely drafty and when he was little it wasn't uncommon for Kurt to get sick from taking cold showers then sleeping in a room no warmer than 47 degrees.
Kurt stares at a loss at all of the buttons and confusing controls that make up an entire wall of his bathroom. He finally just pushes some at random and steppes in. It's scalding, and normally he would have jumped out, but this feels good. It seems like it's burning his skin, but it feels like he's getting rid of everything. He allows the boiling water to kill everything he feels crawling over himself. Shame that he won't win, fear that his death will be painful, worry over his father's health. The last to go is the self-pity he feels when he realizes he won't really be missed at all. He cries as well, his salty hot tears mixing in with the fresh clean water that surrounds him, making his skin burn red.
After pressing some more random buttons that end up ejecting lavender scented spray into the bathroom, Kurt gets out, picks up his clothes and starts to leave, when he hears a small ping, ping, ping. He turns and sees a small piece of an engine accelerator rolling across the floor from where it fell out of his pants pocket.
He furrows his brow picking it up. It's a very familiar piece of metal, one he used every day, but this one's weight seems a little off. He turns it over in his hands, thinking. Then he remembered hugging his dad before he left. He must have slipped it into my pocket, as token for district 6, Kurt thinks, his face twitching in what might be a smile. He pulls on some clothes he finds in a closet and puts the piece of scrap metal in his pocket, comforted by the feel of its weight on his skin.
At dinner Kurt finally remembers who the girl tribute is. Her name is Tina and she used to work the shift before him at the factory. Kurt would walk past her every day on his way to the assembly line. Now she sits across from him, crying insistently. It started as soft whimpering on the platform boarding the train, turned into slow weeping and has now escalated to a loud sob.
Kurt grimaces at the noise, but refuses to retrieve any of the emotions he has washed away. He simply avoids her gaze and tries to enjoy the food. It isn't hard actually; the food is the most amazing that Kurt has ever had in his life.
He has no idea what any of it is, because all he has ever eaten before is processed gruel that didn't really resemble much of anything. This is solid and flavorful, so he tunes out Tina's crying and instead lets the food flow over himself where emotions had been an hour ago. Emma, District 6's escort does her best to make conversation, but it is clear she is disappointed with this year's tributes.
Everyone wants strong tributes that will win, but obviously Kurt and Tina don't quite fit that bill. That's not to say Kurt can't handle himself. He's tall and has some muscles from the factory; it's just that he doesn't weigh very much. Tina doesn't seem emotionally stable enough to stand a chance. After the tense dinner Kurt, Emma, Tina, Will Schuester and April Rhodes, their mentors, and the designer Holly Holiday all head to watch the recap of the reaping.
Kurt sits by himself, avoiding contact with everyone else. He doesn't like to be touched very much. On screen he watches as tribute after tribute is reaped. Kurt doesn't just see children being reaped, Kurt sees an opponent. Someone he may or may not have to kill. Kurt Hummel is ready to win.
Blaine's departure from District 10 could be easily described as emotionally traumatizing. His good byes are entirely heart wrenching. His friends whom he went to school with, have all piled into the small room in the Justice Building to wish him luck, and although they mean well, and had intended to lift his spirits, in reality they just cause him more pain. The way they say goodbye speaks volumes.
Nobody expects him to come home. Blaine is in good shape, and fairly well fed, as he is upper class, but he is very short for his age, and not known to like getting his hands all that dirty. Wes claps his hand on his friend's shoulder and just gives him a long look in the eye. David just right out hugs his friend with enough force to crack a rib, with no reservations for personal space.
Their other schoolmates crowd around Blaine trying to comfort him, but it doesn't help. In the end Blaine's brothers, Shane and Cooper pin a Warbler badge to his chest. It's their club at school, and they want it to be their token for District 10.
Blaine boards the train with Brittany, who is about a year older than him. She smiles happily at the cameras, apparently not understanding what is going on. Blaine does his best to play nice for the reporters, doing what he can to seem like a good guy. It isn't all that much of a reach for him of course, because well, that's who Blaine is. Ask anyone around the district and they'll tell you, Blaine's a good kid. You never hear about him getting into any sort of trouble, because he's a good boy.
Most people go on to say "He'll make his old man proud one day." And that's Blaine Anderson, so when cameras are pushed into his and Brittany's faces at every turn, he just smiles as politely as possible, and steps into the car, wrapping his arm around the girl to help her up. Servants escort them to separate parts of the train, and once alone Blaine expects himself to collapse. That's what he told himself he'd do. It was a promise in fact, something to get him through all of his goodbyes. Now he is supposed to be curled up in a corner bawling his eyes out and wallowing in self-pity because he's sure there's a 100% chance of him dying in the next couple of weeks and self-loathing because he's too weak of a person to do anything about it.
Instead he looks around the room, intrigued. It's well furnished and reminds him of Wes's home back home. Wes is the mayor's son, so naturally their house is the biggest and by far the most grand in the entire district, but this outstrips it. Everything here seems new and pristine like it's never been touched. Blaine wonders absently if any other tributes have stayed in this exact room and if so how many.
He shudders a little, but again, not a tear falls from his face. He flops on the bed, exhausted, from what he's not sure, and wonders who will feed his horse. He should have reminded Cooper. He definitely wouldn't count on Shane to do it, who has always been the spaz of the three brothers. Blaine smiles, nostalgia taking control of rational thoughts.
Rather than think about his situation, Blaine numbs it with memories from his childhood, slipping back through the years to when Cooper would always protect him, and in turn, he would protect Shane. He's beyond both of them now, but his mind doesn't permit him to dwell on it.
An hour passes and it feels like five minutes. Blaine sits up on his bed, feeling like he's wakening from a dream even though he's pretty sure he didn't fall asleep. He gets up and walks across the room to see a servant girl beckoning him to come for dinner. Blaine follows obediently, still thinking about little things and not really accepting the situation. He sits down at the table across from District 10's only living victor, Shannon Bieste. Her last name is oddly fitting, because she is a beast.
Her triumph in the games is legendary, for she'd one by killing a man in her bare hands. Blaine swallows a little, glad he's not going into an arena with her, before remembering he could have much worse. Shannon smiles at him reassuringly though and Blaine feels a little better, if not much. Next to him is Brittany, who seems a little vacant, but that's not unusual. The others at their table are Terri, the escort, and Sandy Ryerman, both Blaine and Brittany's designer.
He's seems to be the living embodiment of the Capitol, wearing a baby blue powder wig, and an outfit that sparkles. He's a little too loud, and Blaine feels a headache coming on, although he tries telling himself to man, up, there'll be much worse to face soon. Terri and him smile, talking throughout the entire dinner, effectively ignoring everyone else, absorbed in their own lives. Shannon looks like she's trying not to kill them both as she does her best to engage Brittany in a conversation. Blaine can't help but snort a little at the obvious friction in the relationships, making everyone look at him in concern. He just shakes his head. After the meal, which is exquisite and by far the most elaborate Blaine has ever seen, they all sit down to watch a recap of the reaping.
Blaine sits on the arm chair to the couch and fidgets constantly, a trait that seems to piss Terri off, making him do it all the more. They watch as name after name is pulled and it's completely overwhelming, but a few tributes stick in Blaine's mind in particular. There's a huge girl from District 1 that Blaine hopes he'll never have to face in real life because she looks like she could squish him under one shoe. Her facial expression doesn't change throughout the entire thing. There's a boy called from District 5 who's almost as big as the girl, who frowns at the cameras with an expression that seems to say they've all personally offended him and now they're going to pay.
His girl counterpart is small and clearly handy-capable. Blaine's heart sinks a little as watched her walk onto the stage. The games are repulsive. The only other who sticks out in Blaine's mind is another huge guy from District 11. Blaine sighs. Why does he have to be so little?
After they finish watching the replays, Blaine heads to his bed. He lies down in the same spot he occupied before and tries to sort through some of his emotions although they're a bit of a jumbled up mess. He wonders why he isn't entirely devastated by his fate, why he isn't sobbing, or giving up on life. The he realizes he has. He accepted his fate the moment his name was called at the reaping. Blaine Anderson is ready to die.
So? Any thought, corrections, ideas you know where the review button is! Please n't hesitate to submit anything :) I'm hoping to start updating this fic on a much more regular basis (I know it's been forever) but the incentive of reviews always helps!