A/N- Hello and thank you so much for the couple of reviews I got as well as the alerts. I am glad that this is getting even a little attention.

This chapter was hard to get out, only because I am really excited to get to the games. I am also looking forward to coming events since we get to meet Dave next chapter and all the problems that will cause. I am hoping for a Friday to Sunday update time frame for every week. I know this didn't really fit, but things are in a busy upturn right now. I should be able to stick to that though.

Legal-Still own nothing and I make no profit from this. Purely for amusement and my own writing development.


It was panic, a feeling so strong that forced the wind right out of me. I couldn't believe what I was hearing when Will called out Blaine's name. He couldn't be taken away from me. We had our lives all planned out, ready to make something for ourselves. We would live and die as happily as we could in District 12, never having to worry about the Hunger Games again. It was so perfect, yet I could see it all unraveling before me as time marched forward without me. I couldn't simply let this happen when Blaine would have been so willing to protect me.

I stepped out of line and rushed to the center of the square, kept clear as a divider between the boys and the girls. Blaine was already half way to the stage when I found my voice, ringing out my dissension loud and clear.

"I Volunteer!" There was a chilled moment in the crowd, everyone digesting what had just happen. I had done something unheard of in our district. There was never a time I could remember anyone volunteering for another tribute, even if that year's tribute had been a child. It was an unspoken rule in District 12 that when it came to the Hunger Games, we were all alone. Everyone looked on with expressions of shock, intrigue, and sadness mixing through the crowd. Will looked absolutely thrilled that someone in his district was finally showing some excitement.

"Well, it is certainly nice of you to step forward like that; however, tradition usually calls for..."

"It doesn't matter. I volunteer, and that's all you need to know," I said, cutting Will off from what I was sure would be a very detailed report on how the reaping for the games was supposed to go.

"Oh, well..." He fumbled, just as mystified at where my attitude had come from as I was. It had been a long time since I felt like cutting into people like I used to. Being with Blaine had really helped quell the "bitch beast" that my dad had dubbed me in my moments of pure icy disdain for all things exasperating.

I passed Blaine on my way up to the stage. I stood waiting when our paths crossed, not entirely sure why. I knew he had the power to send me right back and end this little diversion I had created. Every tribute had the right to deny a volunteer the right to take their place. His name had been drawn, so everything from this point on was his decision. I was mostly expecting him to rebuff my offer and send me back in line to mourn his almost certain death. When it became apparent that he was only going to look at me with a mixture of shock and, if I was reading him correctly, a bit of despair, I simply continued up the stage.

As I took my place with Will introducing me to all of Panem, I felt nothing. Perhaps I was hurt that Blaine had done nothing to stop me, although I had made the decision to volunteer and was fully ready to take on that responsibility. Still, was he not going to fight for me at all? Before I was even done with the thought, I let it slide away completely. It wasn't that he wasn't going to fight for me because he didn't want to, but that he really didn't have much choice for practicalities sake. If he went, then my father and I would surely suffer in our quality of life as most of our fortunes were brought on because of him. If I was the one to go, then he would continue taking care of my father and all would be better that way. It was the best plan that I never knew Blaine must have had.

The rest of the event went on without a hitch, everyone still recovering from my outburst. There were some members of the crowd rejoicing, as morbid as it was. They were now safe; either for another year or for the rest of their lives because I took a stand. I couldn't bear to look out to see what my father was feeling, knowing I would be seeing him soon enough to say goodbye.

"Everyone, with that, say goodbye to your tributes as they take off for the Capitol to prepare for the games," Will presented us to the crowd a final time and Santana and I were whisked into the justice building to be given time to say our goodbyes in private with our friends and family members.

I was taken to a small room that I had never been in before. I knew my dad and Blaine would visit me, and I was sure that would be it. I had acquaintances in the district and friends from school, but there was no reason for them to come and see me like this.

My dad was the first to come in, as expected. For the first few minutes, we just held each other. We both knew full well that it was likely that to be the last time we saw each other. We wouldn't sour the moment with what I had done. The shame of leaving my father alone was almost too much to bear. I was the first to break the silence, knowing that we didn't have unlimited time. Even then, my father was my biggest priority.

"You need to promise me you'll take care of yourself. Stay as healthy as you can. Blaine will still take care of you as far as food is concerned. Just take what he offers and please don't let your pride stop you," I said firmly, knowing my father and his views on charity. It wouldn't be as bad on him just having to provide for himself, but I needed to be sure he would be okay.

"I will, Kurt. More importantly, I don't want you going into this thinking it's the end. I want you to fight. You promise your old man that you're going to try to win this. I'm never going to give up hope as long as you stand a chance." There were tears in his eyes at this point; he had tried so hard to keep them back.

"I'll try," I croaked out truthfully. I wasn't going to give up either. I just didn't think I really stood a chance.

"I mean it. You may not be the strongest one going into this thing, but you have a good head on your shoulders, kiddo. You keep those wits about you and outsmart all those damn kids and you come back home, you hear me?" His words neared a frantic pace, the doors opening for the peacekeepers to fetch him.

"I do, dad. I'll come back to you, I promise!" The last of my words had to reach him on a shout, the peacekeepers having come to tear us away at the end of our allotted time. I refused to let the sobs that were just below the surface break through. There wasn't a time for that anymore. From here on out, I would not show weakness. I needed to fight my way though this.

I sat in anticipation, waiting for Blaine to come in next. I stood waiting for what seemed to be an exceptionally long time if they were just escorting my dad out before letting my next visitor come in. I wasn't told exactly how long Santana and I were being given for our goodbyes, but I couldn't anticipate them lasting much longer. We were due to leave for the Capitol any minute, and Blaine hadn't been shown in yet.

I had almost given up hope, when the doors to the room opened and Blaine finally walked in, looking harassed and like he was ready to fall apart from the stress he must have been under. When the doors closed behind him, we simply stood there watching each other. I could only speculate, but it seemed to me that Blaine was almost angry. At me or at the situation, I couldn't be sure.

Whatever he was feeling, he overcame it and brought himself over to where I stood, embracing me in a strong hug.

"Kurt, why did you do it? This wasn't your burden to bear," he whispered, shielding me from everything that had transpired in the past few hours. He was my rock once again.

"I know, but I had to. You mean too much to my family and me. I can't let them take you." I let my body melt against him as he took over for me. When I was with Blaine, sometimes I didn't even need to think. He took on the world for me and I could simply be. His being there gave me a renewed strength that I was sorely missing moments before. "Besides, I made a promise to my dad. I told him I would try to make it home. Maybe this isn't goodbye for us."

He scoffed a bit, a light sound, but one that wrenched me from my serene state "Sweetie, you can't possibly think you'll survive. At least I had a chance; you can't even go out hunting on your own."

It was a slap to the face. He was so convinced that I had no chance at all to come home alive. After all, he only took me hunting with him to humor me, he practically said as much before. There was nothing strong about me in his eyes. I could see the progression of this year's Hunger Games through his eyes: I would run, I wouldn't get any good weapons or supplies, I wouldn't be able to hunt for food and I would starve to death. This was all assuming I even made it through the first day. He was right; I didn't have much of a chance when you weighed the odds. But that wasn't the point.

I found myself becoming angry, wondering where he got off casting me off before I had even left. I may not have had his natural skills, but I had a will to survive, and I wasn't going to just go down without a fight.

"What then, Blaine?" I said, backing away from his embrace, leaving my safe haven behind. "You're just casting me off as a loss already? Would you rather I just off myself as soon as I get into the arena?" His body went rigid, his face betraying no emotion. It didn't take much, but my Blaine was gone.

"Just make sure it happens quick," he said with venom seeping through his every pore. "Spare your dad and me the torment of watching you die slowly since you had to be so quick to act without using your head." He had regretted the words, I was sure. It didn't matter. He never tried to take them back whatever may have been going on in his head.

"Fine, I'll be sure to think of you when I throw myself into the path of one of the career tributes. Wouldn't want this whole ordeal to get to you." I spared him one last glance before pounding on the doors, wanting the peacekeepers to take him away before I was forced to show him how much fight I really had in me. They came, taking me with them instead of removing Blaine. He began to weep as they held him from moving as I was herded out.

"Kurt!" I couldn't just leave it at that. I cared for him too much despite what little confidence he had in me, much less the lack of gratitude he was showing at my having saved his life.

"I'm going to come back, Blaine! I swear it." I said with only the slightest glance, unable to turn around in full. "Keep my dad safe. Don't let him starve!"

With that, we were off and at the train bound for the Capitol before I knew it. As much as I wished I could hurt Blaine for what he had said to me, I wanted desperately to have him with me at that moment. All I had to hold onto was the thought of coming back to him when all this was over; it was all I had to get me through the games. The problem was it didn't feel like anywhere near enough motivation to come home. I missed the power I had felt in his arms before he opened his big mouth.


As soon as we boarded the train, we were shown to our separate rooms. I was given strict instructions that I was not to leave the room until the train had departed, and that I would then be allowed to move about as I pleased. The peacekeeper, who happened to be very polite despite the fact that I wasn't the most talkative of "guests," gave me the time for dinner and was off. The small but noticeable click when the man left assured me that they meant it when I was told not to go anywhere.

I took survey of the room and had to admit that it was mildly impressive. The bed looked luxurious, which was to a much higher standard than I would have expected on a train that was only meant for travel. Although, when people are used to lives of luxury, it must have been hard dealing with anything less.

The decor of the room left something to be desired in my own opinion. It wasn't as if I had anything so grandiose to compare to, but I could tell good taste when I saw it and this wasn't it. I decided that given the circumstances, I didn't want to be impressed by anything from the Capitol. It was better that I let the sheer tackiness of this single train coat my view of the people that were going to enjoy watching me die rather than feel sympathetic to this supposed individual with supposed taste.

At the time the peacekeeper had said, I heard the distinct click from the door to my room, and I knew it was safe for me to leave for dinner. I made my way back into the hall, unsure of where I was to go. A peacekeeper that was stationed in the hallway pointed to my right, and I followed the direction to the next car. Upon entering, I was blown away by all of the decorations and designs that went into the dining car of a train that was used only a few times a year. There were little glass statues around the room to accentuate the false impression that we were in more than a dining car. The table was unnecessarily large considering that, to my knowledge, there were only four of us that were really taking this trip to the Capitol. It was ridiculous that all of this would be done for a simple day trip.

Aside from the tables and little glass figures, there was also an array of furniture to one side making one area of the car into a makeshift sitting room. The chairs looked uncomfortable at best, and plain tacky when considered against the regal look they were going for in other parts of the car. The contrast of the older styled dining room and more industrial sitting area only succeeded in achieving a look of "gaudy" in my book. It didn't help that rolling my eyes at the rooms design only caused me to focus more on the out of place chandelier hanging above the table.

"Ostentatious," the word slipped from my lips as I stared at the overdone room in horror. "They really don't know how to stop themselves, do they?"

"There you go with those big fancy words," Said Santana, sneaking up behind me from the same hallway I was just in. "You know, I swear you make half of those words up." She said with a sort of sneer. I couldn't tell if she was angry or devilishly happy. I didn't like either possibility.

"Hello, Santana. How nice to see I won't be dining alone after all." It was true, I was beginning to worry that I would be alone for dinner given the absence of any living being. She smirked and took a seat at the table. I made it a point to stay on the opposite side of the table, though not directly across from her. There were knives at the place settings, and I wasn't a fool.

"Look, you can drop the nice act. There are only two reasons for being nice in the Hunger Games: you want to make an alliance, or you're strategizing your kills. I would rather not be a part of either one of those scenarios," she said, dropping her grin and replacing it with a glare. It hurt me for a moment; I needed to keep reminding myself why we were there to begin with. Even at that point, despite what she was saying to me, I knew that I wouldn't be able to kill her without being reminded that we were connected in the very least by our district.

"Santana, why don't you drop your act then?" This got her attention, her attitude flaring just beneath the surface just in case. It was all I could do to channel my inner bitch to keep at her level, needing her to hear what I had to say. "I know you, at least a little. I know you aren't going to back down from this despite the odds. You are going to rise up and, just like I plan on doing, you are going to do everything in your power to win so you can go home. The thing is, neither one of us knows how to do that. We're both at a loss and you know it." Everything was resonating with her at this point, the anger leaking from her features and revealing the skepticism at where I could have possibly been going with this.

"There is one thing I do know, and I know you know it too. You and I will not kill each other." She inched her body towards me, but stopped. A cold realization hitting her. "We don't really know each other, and I wouldn't say we are anywhere near close to friends. Still, I do know that if I had a chance, that if I had a knife to your throat right now, I wouldn't be able to do it. No matter what, you would be that girl from my home that I took away from her family. I don't have it in me. Call me weak, but I can admit it."

"So what if you're right?" she asked. "What is that supposed to prove, that we're both destined to lose?" She leaned back in her chair, contempt written all over her. I took the lack of responding to my little speech as agreement at least on the part about not easily able to kill each other.

"It means that if we can come to an understanding, perhaps we can do something for each other. Shed a burden from our shoulders." Intrigued again, she looked me square in the eyes. Was that a shimmer in her eye...hope, perhaps? "If we both agree that we can't kill each other, we can move forward without worrying about the other one. We don't have to help, defend, protect, or do anything for the other one. We just go forward from this moment with the peace of mind that we have a shot without having to kill someone who would make a win more painful than it needs to be. We can walk into the arena and let whatever happens, happen"

She took a good amount of time to think about what I had said. I was offering her a chance to play this game on a level the other tributes couldn't normally. She looked up with the fire back in her eyes, although the level of animosity was severely diminished.

"Deal. No distractions for us. Whatever happens in the arena happens. I won't save or kill you and I expect the same from you. If we both wind up as the last two...then we'll deal with it then." We would have shook on it, but it was that moment that our mentor, Sue, decided to join us.

She looked around, and I got my first real look at her. Sue never made it a habit of sticking around whenever she left her house in the Victor's Village. I had heard more stories about her than I had actually seen her, and her appearance was mildly surprising. I expected someone more weathered and broken at her age, but she was anything but. Her age showed, but you never would have thought she had lived through the Hunger Games. She carried herself with confidence, not unlike Santana. She was the woman known for not taking anything from anyone. This woman, so strong, was going to be my mentor for the entirety of the games. I knew I needed her, but I was still steeling myself for simply introducing myself to her.

Without glancing at either of us, she grabbed a drink from a nearby cart and sat at the far end of the table, away from us. Santana and I sat in silence for a moment. We both wanted to start some kind of conversation with her, start learning what we needed to know, but Sue was leaving no room for an opening. Santana, being the gutsiest of the pair of us, took the first stab at it.

"So, you're the one who's going to keep us alive?"

"Let me stop you right there," began Sue, neither looking at us nor showing any real interest in having this discussion. "I am not going to keep you alive by any stretch of the imagination. Now, let me explain something to you before you start whining and complaining," she interrupted us before our cries of outrage were even formed in our heads. "I am here because every other district, the ones who actually have a chance, all have mentors as well. If there wasn't the illusion of fairness, then little losers like you wouldn't put on a good show for the Capitol; who, by the way, is the only one who really matters here at the end of the day as far as the Hunger Games is concerned."

"Now, I know you two have dreams of winning this thing in some come from behind victory, thus becoming heroes of the district and going home to whatever group of people spawned your disturbingly ugly faces. I am here to put those dreams to rest. You know what I see right here?" she asked, pausing for effect, us with what I am sure could have only been scandalized expressions on our faces. "I see you," pointing to Santana, "a firecracker casing hiding nothing but a dud, and you," turning to me, "a porcelain doll about to be gifted to a herd of bulls." Santana had heard enough of this, not one to take abuse.

"Who do you think you are? Just because you're so jaded and cynical you get to decide we aren't even worth your help? I'm not going to just roll over and die because you don't feel like doing your job."

"Yet, if I don't do my part, you're pretty much goners anyway." She was right. If she didn't help us by teaching us, then it wasn't a big deal. Santana and I were smart; we could come up with our own strategies despite not having the first hand experience. The problem came with getting sponsors for gifts inside of the arena. Without them, we could easily starve or dehydrate. I have seen those gifts make all the difference in the arena.

"Sue, please!" I urged, needing her to see that we were serious. "We are not taking this lightly and we both want to find a way to win this. One of us could really walk home this year if you would just..."

"Sorry, Porcelain, but I don't think that will be happening. Sue Sylvester only takes time out of her busy schedule for winners, and I don't see any. Now, if you'll excuse me, I checked out of this conversation after I made my point, so I'm gonna go." She was leaving. If we couldn't convince her now, what chance did we have later?

I was beyond afraid at this point, having left that behind in District 12. I was determined to win and the first challenge to that was getting the help of the infuriating Sue Sylvester. I was hoping what I was about to do didn't get me killed, as I didn't put it past her. I picked up the knife by my place set and gripped it lightly. I let muscle memory take over as I watched sue reach the door to the compartment. As her hand reached for the door, my knife zipped out of my hand, sailing through the air and landing mere inches from Sue's head in the wall of the compartment. She froze in place as the object registered in her mind, her head turning to look at me.

I couldn't let it show, but I had to be a slight bit amazed that the knife actually went where I wanted it to. It was one of the things that Blaine had tried to teach me. While the practice I had done was enough to know exactly how to throw, my accuracy was probably closer to fifty percent. I don't know what I would have done if I had missed, but for now I could at least rest assured that Sue thought I was a whiz with a knife.

Sue looked me up and down, looking for something. I refused to back down, knowing this was what she needed. Before I knew what she was doing, she grabbed the knife and sent it flying in our direction without breaking eye contact. Not to be outdone, Santana was prepared with plate in hand, sending it flying to the knife and throwing it off of its intended path. We all just stood there, no one daring to speak. It was only when Will walked in, taking notice of the misplaced dinner ware and asking what happened that Sue broke from the spell.

"Well, looks like you two have some fight in you after all." We stood there expectantly, knowing that despite how small it was we had just won our first part of the games. Without another glance, Sue turned with a call of "Goodnight, losers," and she was gone.


I have tried to catch my mistakes, but I can only do so much.

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