Dean was glad when Pamela showed them their penthouse apartment. He was desperately in need of a hot meal, hot shower, and soft bed.

Pamela buzzed on about how amazing they looked and how much everybody was just going to love them and give them all the sponsorship money in the world, and while Dean had to bite his tongue to keep from lashing out at Pamela, he knew that not everyone liked the two of them being the center of attention.

For one, Dean had been able to see the glares they'd gotten the second they'd gotten off the chariots – and not just from the Careers. It seemed like everyone hated the big entrance they had made. Dean was a little worried that they'd just been given a target on their backs, but he couldn't help but chuckle at how pissed the Careers had been.

"Dean, your room is down the hall and to the right, Castiel's is on the left," Pamela told them. "Dinner will be in 20 minutes if you'd like to shower and get cleaned up."

The two of them made beelines for their rooms, and the second that Dean shut his door, he started taking off the skin-tight suit. Sure, it had hugged every muscle on his body and made the Capitol girls swoon, but he was glad to be rid of it.

When he was finally naked, he paused before the huge walk-in shower. He'd never used an actual shower before and the Capitol shower had so many buttons that Dean wasn't sure which one to press. So he experimented with the buttons until he found one that was hot water and normal smelling soap.

When he was finished and dried off, he looked around the room. It took Dean a few seconds to realize that for the next few days, this room was his. Not his to share with Sam, not his to share with Mary… his, and his alone. A smile started to creep to his face, but it quickly faltered – he just sighed, wishing he could call Sam.

He found some comfortable clothes in the closer and decided to walk out to the living area where Pamela, Bobby, and Ash were sitting. He could hear their chatter and paused at the edge of the hallway, eavesdropping. A few seconds later, Castiel joined him.

"You know that's impolite," she whispered.

Dean just smirked and waved her closer so she could hear too.

"…it really was a nice outfit," Pamela complimented.

"But did we attract the wrong kind of attention?" Bobby questioned.

Ash shook his head, "'Wrong kind of attention?' Ain't no such thing. Any kind of attention for District 12 is good attention."

"You didn't see the way that Career pack was lookin' at them," Bobby went on, taking a sip. "Hand-to-hand combat ain't their game, so I'm worried we just created a bulls-eye on their backs."

"What is our game then?" Dean asked, stepping into the room.

He saw three pairs of eyes look up at him. Pamela bit her lip as if she was afraid that too much had been said.

When no one answered him, Dean just cocked an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

Castiel set her jaw, following his lead, "Shouldn't we know what our game is?"

The room stayed quiet for a few seconds, all the adults just looking at each other as if they were afraid to break the silence.

Finally, Bobby smirked and nodded, "See you two idjits are early for dinner."

Dean just rolled his eyes and just walked over to the dinner table. Castiel followed him and pulled out a chair for herself.

Within a few minutes, people were bringing out plates upon plates of food and setting the table. Pamela, Ash, and Bobby all walked over to the table and sat down, chattering on and on about whatever dessert they were supposed to be having. Strawberry something-or-other. Strawberries just made Dean think of the patch that he and Jo used to gather them from, so he quickly concentrated on his food and dug in.

The thing Dean was most unused to was talking over dinner. He and Sam were often unsure of where the next meal would come from, so it usually wasn't a social affair. They often ate in silence, scarfing down whatever was in front of them. As he looked around the table, he observed Castiel and Bobby behaving the same way: eating their meals quietly, quickly, and without interruption.

Pamela and Ash seemed to never shut up. First it was the Opening Ceremonies, then it was the weather, then the arena, then this, then that… Dean gripped his silverware tighter and tighter, contemplating starting the Games early by killing his escort.

"So were you and Dean friends back in 12?" Pamela politely asked Castiel over dessert.

Castiel smiled nervously at Dean, "Not really."

Pamela frowned, "Well that's too bad."

because you're going to be dead soon, Dean added in his head.

"He's two years ahead of me, so we never spoke much," Castiel continued. "Just a couple times, I think."

Dean flashed her a smile, "Yeah, Castiel bought our squirrels a few times at the bakery." He nudged her, "She always bought them for more than they were worth."

Castiel started to blush and looked down, "Well I – I just –" she trailed off, she didn't know what she was trying to say.

"Did the two of you do business often?" Pamela asked.

Castiel shook her head, "No, it was mostly Jo Harvelle."

Dean's brow furrows, "I never noticed that. But yeah, it was mostly Jo."

Actually, when Dean started to think about it, Jo was the one who dealt with women who wanted to buy their stuff. He always attributed it to women just thinking alike and all that, but was there more to it?

Dean just shook his head, he had enough on his plate without worrying what Jo may or may not have meant. When or if he got home, he'd ask her about it, but until then he had work to do.

Bobby sat up in his seat, "Okay, tomorrow they're going to take you down to the Training Center and let you work with some weapons."

Dean nodded – this is what he had been waiting for, the opportunity to show off with a bow.

"Do you have weapons that you're good at using?" he asked the both of them.

Dean and Castiel just looked at each other.

"Dean's pretty good with a bow," Castiel quietly said. "Best shot in the district."

Dean put up his hands, "Now I don't know about all that."

"It's true," Castiel defended. "My father is always complimenting that the squirrels he and Jo brought us were always shot clean through the eye."

Bobby and Ash looked at Dean with a hint of surprise on their faces. "This true, boy?"

Dean just shrugged, "I'm pretty decent, I guess."

Bobby looked back at Castiel, "How about you, sweetheart?"

Castiel just shrugged, "I don't know. I mean, my sister Anna would throw knives with me in the back of the bakery sometimes."

"Any good with them?" Bobby asked.

Castiel shrugged again, "I could hit a still target."

Bobby just nodded and took a sip of his drink – Dean assumed it was some form of liquor. "Well, tomorrow, I don't want Dean to go near a bow or Castiel to even look at the knives."

"But the Careers will – " Dean started to yell, but Bobby cut him off.

"Exactly. The Careers are automatically going to show off what they know and what they're good at. They want you to know what they can handle because they want you to be afraid."

Castiel's eyes narrowed, "So you want us to wait until the individual sessions?"

"Exactly," Bobby answered. "Then you can show off and no one will know what you're good at."

"So what are we supposed to do for the next two days?" Dean half-whined. He had been looking forward to shooting with a quality bow.

Bobby took another sip of his drink, "Learn a skill you don't know. Knot-tying, how to start a fire, how to swim, anything. Learn something you don't know."

"That's where the Careers mess up every year," Ash chimes in. "They just want to use weapons, then come game time, they don't know how to stay warm."

Dean just looked at Castiel and nodded, "We'll stick together, scope out the competition."

Dean half expected Castiel to question him or make a snide comment, but she just nodded at Bobby.

At ten am the next morning, Castiel and Dean followed Pamela down the hallway to the elevator. Since they were on the top floor, Dean was unsurprised that the elevator stopped to pick up several of the tributes, including District 2. He was prepared for the glares of Alistair and Ruby and brushed them off with a smirk.

As the elevator sunk to the floor that the Training Center was on, Dean could see Lilith's glare turn to a devilish smirk as she nudged Alistair out of the corner of his eye.

"Quite the entrance you two made yesterday," she said with a sarcastic smile.

Dean turned to narrow his eyes at her and started to open his mouth, but Castiel beat him there.

"The fire should have reminded you of where you belong, you abomination."

Lilith raised her chin, "Better watch who you're talking to, angel."

Dean took a step slightly in front of Castiel, arms reaching out protectively. "Or what? Gonna risk starting it early?"

Lilith's mouth curved into a smile as Alistair started to chuckle, "I can understand an angel with an attitude, but a human?"

The elevator doors dinged as the opened to reveal the rest of the Training Center. Alistair and Lilith exited first, both giving Dean and Castiel smirks. But just before he reached the door, Alistair leaned back in, close to Dean.

"Better watch being over-protective of that angel, boy. Might get you killed."

Dean didn't realize he had tensed his arms until Castiel gently touched him. "It's okay, Dean. They're gone."

Dean just nodded at her and strode out of the elevator, letting Castiel follow behind him.

The first thing that happened was all of the tributes were arranged in front of a dark headed woman on a platform. Once she quieted everyone, she shut her lids to reveal pure black eyes, letting them know that she was a demon.

"There are certain rules the Capitol would like to remind you of before you start your training. First, no fighting with other tributes, there will be plenty of time for that once you get in the arena. Secondly, you should know that not all of you will have the same abilities once you enter the arena. Angels will not be able to instantly transport themselves from place to place, while shifters, demons, Leviathan, etc, will not be able to change form once inside the arena."

She went on through the list and Dean felt himself getting a little bored. He heard the rules every single year before the Games. Basically the only ones that were constricted were angels and creatures who could change shape.

The rule change was due to the Games a few years ago, too many shifters had shifted into the same person and all died, so the Gamemakers had a hell of a time trying to figure out who each kid actually was. That was one of Dean's favorite years and he still chuckled whenever he thought of it.

But when Dean boiled it down, the rule changes were simple: shape-changing creatures had to stay their true shape and angels couldn't zap from place to place. Most still had their healing powers and still had extraordinary perception.

One of the few species that benefitted from the arena was werewolves. Normally, it took a full moon for a werewolf's power to become known, but in the arena werewolves could turn it off and on as they pleased. Dean made a special note to keep an eye on the two werewolves from District 9, a girl named Madison and a boy named Thomas.

Eventually the woman releases them to stations, giving them a warning to learn stations about the environment so they can survive.

As the tributes split up, Dean saw the Career pack heading toward the weapons stations. He smirked and whispered low to Castiel as he watched them, "Looks like Bobby was right."

Castiel nodded and looked over toward the edible plant station, "Looks like that one's free."

"Looks like we should learn what's yummy in the tummy and what'll kill you," Dean grimly stated.

Within twenty minutes, Dean had passed the test with flying colors. He attributed it to all the years spent out in the woods with Jo, but when the station director asked him how well he did, he simply said his dad's plant book.

Castiel, however, had more trouble. She confused poisonous with good to eat and the ones that should be used for medicines. She got frustrated quickly and Dean found himself getting more and more amused with the way her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed, like as if concentrating more on the screen would make the answers appear. Her bangs fell in her eyes and she huffed as she pushed them away so she could see.

Dean caught himself wishing he could push her hair back from her face.

He shook his head, tearing his eyes from Castiel and instead focusing them on the Careers. He noticed Lilith and Alistair throwing knives and practicing with swords and spears that were on hand. The Leviathan seemed skilled in hand-to-hand combat, but it was the two tributes from District 11 that intrigued Dean the most.

Benny and Ruby, if he remembered right, were sticking to the same plan that he and Castiel were – learning stations that weren't "popular." He observed them at the knot-tying station. Ruby's hands flew through the knots quickly, Dean assumed that the knots were something she knew by heart, which led him to think that Ruby was simply making herself look busy so she could observe… like him.

When Castiel finally got the hang of the edible plants, Dean decided to take her to the fire-making station. "It's important that you know how to do it in case we get separated," Dean explained. He didn't know why, but he liked the thought of being close to Castiel, protecting her, even.

Dean just nodded to the attendant and sank to his knees in front of the sticks and supplies. Within a few minutes, he had a good fire started and Castiel seemed like she had a pretty good grip on the instructions.

But as Castiel rubbed the sticks together again and again, she couldn't get anything to light. She huffed in frustration, narrowing her eyes further, trying to concentrate. Dean couldn't help but chuckle at her.

"Here, Cas, let me show you," he said softly, grabbing her hands and showing her how to rub the sticks together to produce the spark. After a few rubs, it worked, and Dean looked up at Castiel with a wide smile. "You got it."

Castiel smiled back in Dean's eyes and he thought he saw a faint blush creep on her face. He looked down and realized he was still holding her hands. He cleared his throat, "Um, h-how about we try something else?"

Castiel nodded, looking down at her hands.

And so they did. They spent the rest of the day at stations that didn't involve weapons. Dean learned a little about camouflage from Castiel, who had decorated cakes at her family's bakery and Castiel learned a little more about making snares and which snares needed to be used to attract which animals.

"Now something like this," Dean explained, holding up a simple snare out of regular wire, "is just big enough to catch a rabbit or squirrel. So it won't hold like a – uh, a bear or something. With me?"

Castiel nodded, "That would require a much larger trap, right?"

Dean smiles back at her, "Exactly."

As Dean's hands quickly worked through the rope, he glanced up at the Careers. Of course, he and Castiel were getting glares from most of the other tributes, but he noticed 11 wasn't glaring… they were just staring.

"What do you think of that brunette and the guy with her?" Dean quietly asked Castiel.

She took a quick look, "The demon and vampire?"

Dean shook his head, "Is that what they are?"

Castiel nodded, "The vampire was the one who whistled through his reaping."

"Forgot about that," Dean admitted.

Castiel opened her mouth to respond, but suddenly the demon woman that had spoken to them that morning appeared, announcing that the training sessions were done for the day.

After dinner that night, Dean unloaded most of the information he observed about the Careers.

"You weren't kidding, most of them love showing off," he told Bobby.

Bobby nodded, "Wait till the interviews. Those idjits always cocky."

He leaned in toward them, "Now tomorrow, I want you both to learn a weapon that you don't know. Whether that's knives, a spear, a bow – whatever. Start with a weapon you're unfamiliar with and stay at it until you can hit a target or kill a mannequin. Understand?"

Dean looked at Castiel and nodded.

The next day, the demon woman gives the same speech about learning the elements rather than just weapons. Dean sees most of the same people at most of the same stations, save for a couple taking the demon's warning about the environment.

The first thing he does is head to the fire-making station with Castiel. He watches as she makes three perfect fires and gives her nods of approval before moving on to the knot-tying station, where he makes her replicate some of the knots he taught her the day before.

When she completes those, Dean looks over toward the weapons stations. "Which one do you wanna learn first?"

She shrugs, "Maybe you could teach me how to shoot a bow?"

Dean looks down at her and smirks, "If you teach me how to throw knives."

"Deal."

They walk over to the station with the bows and arrows together and Dean contemplates how he's going to teach Castiel without actually showing his skills, but he's intercepted by an attendant. Castiel throws him a brief smile, but it fades to the look of frustrated-squinty-eyed-concentration as the man starts explaining how to shoot the bow. Dean shifts his body so it looks like he's really concentrating, but his mind flitters around the room, watching the different tributes.

After what feels like an eternity, the attendant hands Dean and Castiel bows that he thinks they can handle and sits back as they get ready to shoot.

"Dean," Castiel hisses. "Bobby specifically told you to stay away from bows."

Dean winks, "Easy, Cas. I can make it look like I'm bad at it."

Dean notices her blush again and stops adjusting his bow, "What? Is it okay that I call you that?"

Castiel smiles at him, "No one ever has before."

Dean shrugs and goes back to his bow, finally stringing it and setting it how he likes. He knocks an arrow and pulls back the string, relishing the feel of a bow in his hands again. Two days is too long to go without shooting.

His eyes settle on a small square of the target, well off from the bulls-eye. He knows Bobby told him to stay away from bows, but he justifies it, thinking that he had to make sure that Castiel got the instruction she needed, and he couldn't do that by watching.

He takes a deep breath in, opening his eyes and refocusing on that one spot, just above the edge of the target. On his exhale, he releases and lets the arrow fly.

To anyone else, it was a terrible shot that almost went off the target, but to Dean, it hit exactly where he wanted.

"I don't think you did that right," Castiel says, eyes squinting at Dean's arrow.

"Shut up and shoot," he instructs.

She takes the arrow and mimics what Dean just did, pulling the string and arrow back and releasing it just as quickly. The arrow barely hits the target.

Castiel's brow furrows in concentration again, "That wasn't right."

Dean chuckles, "No, but relax. We have all day to work on it."

"What am I doing wrong?"

"First of all," Dean says, taking a step toward her and putting a hand on her shoulder, "Relax."

Castiel takes a deep breath and looks up at Dean, "What now?"

"Second of all, you're too rushed on the release. Pull the arrow back like you did a second ago and pause."

Castiel does as she's told, with the arrow pulled back as far as it can go.

"Good, now close your eyes. I want you to think of just a small section of the bulls-eye. Aim small, miss small, remember that phrase, Cas," he pauses, watching her lips as she mouths the phrase.

"Now, open your eyes, see the same part of the target. Inhale with a deep breath, and when you exhale, release your fingers."

Castiel takes a deep breath in and when she breathes out, she lets go of the arrow, sending it flying toward the target. It hits one of the inner rings with a loud thud.

"Good, Cas," Dean smiles. "That was good. Now try it again, but this time, really concentrate."

They spend most of the afternoon shooting the bow, but eventually Castiel can hit pretty well on the target and Dean gets good at missing on purpose. Castiel leads him over to the knife throwing station and picks up a small one.

"This is about the size Anna would make me throw."

Dean nods and picks one up, "How old is Anna?"

"Like 21, I think. She's married now with a couple of kids," Castiel answers.

Dean nods, "You two weren't close?"

Castiel shakes her head as she looks at the knife, "Not like you and Sam. She didn't really have to pay attention to me, so she didn't."

Dean just nods again, unsure of what to say. He can't imagine a world where he's not close to Sammy or even one where Jo isn't close to Jessica. So he just picks up another knife and steps up to the throwing range. He rears back and lets the knife fly from his hand – almost completely missing the target.

"Was that on purpose?" Castiel asks with a small grin.

"Think you can do better?" he challenges.

Castiel smiles and him and takes the knife she picked up, walking over to where Dean stands. She looks at the target, takes a breath, and throws the knife with a smile flick of her wrist. It doesn't hit the bulls-eye, but it hits a lot closer than her arrows had. She turns to Dean and smiles.

"Shut up," Dean snaps, grabbing more of the knives.

Chapter four – memorable

The next day, Pamela opens Dean's door with more flourish than necessary. She practically shouts at him to get up, squealing that it's going to be a "big, big, big day!"

Dean groans and rolls over.

"Dean Winchester, it's the day of the individual sessions so you better get up and get your game face on!" she says, leaving the room.

Dean suddenly sits up in his bed.

The individual sessions.

A pit forms in his stomach.

He hadn't even thought about the individual sessions. During the training and even during most of the Games, Dean knows he can protect Castiel and shelter her from all the bad things that will inevitably happen. But during the individual sessions, it's her vs the Gamemakers for fifteen important minutes. If she doesn't do something spectacular, they're not going to give her a high score.

Even more importantly, if Castiel doesn't get a very high score, she won't get any sponsors. And if she doesn't get any sponsors, she may miss out on something in the arena that will keep her from death. Like matches, or water, or medicine, or… anything.

The pit in Dean's stomach grows larger.

He gets out of bed and considers taking a shower. He checks his watch – he either has enough time to shower or go eat. He figures it'll settle his stomach to get some coffee, so he throws on some clothes that the Avoxes have laid out for him. It's uncomfortable and tight, but Dean throws it on rather than protest. He walks into the dining area and sees Castiel eating tensely and listening to Bobby.

"Now, when you go in, there'll be a … well, good mornin', sunshine," he says to Dean when he notices him.

Dean nods and grabs a plate and a cup of coffee, He pauses for a second. He knows if he sees her, he'll start to panic for her and he can't afford to do that, so he just avoids Castiel's eyes.

"Hello, Dean," she says.

Damn it. He looks up and gives her a weak smile.

Bobby takes a sip out of his coffee cup – Dean assumes there's some type of liquor in it, he wonders if Bobby would share with him – and continues. "There'll be all kinds of weapons. Knives, bows, make sure you use them."

"What are they looking for?" Castiel quietly asks.

Bobby shrugs, "They're just trying to access your strength. The ratings are just to give other tributes and the people that bet on the Games a sense of where you stand. Careers usually get really high scores."

"What about outlying districts?" Castiel asks.

"Usually anywhere from 4-8," Bobby answers, chewing his bacon.

Castiel's face falls and it's replaced with panic. Dean can pretty much see her thoughts as if they're pasted on her forehead.

Dean glances at her, "Just because they're normally low doesn't mean they will be this year."

Castiel looks up at him and Dean can see the hope start to form in her eyes, "You think so?"

Dean nods, "Absolutely."

"It's not very hard. In fact, the kid I had 6 years ago got a 10," Bobby continues. "Just find some way to make them remember you."

Dean takes a deep breath, locking eyes with Castiel. Her big blue eyes are sad, and Dean knows that she realizes exactly what he has – he can't help her here.

The rest of the meal is eaten in silence.

The elevator is empty when he and Castiel enter it and press the button for the bottom floor. Dean's grateful – less people he has to convince that he's okay. Castiel stays silent, fiddling with a loose string on her pants. Dean wonders if she's as worried about him as he is about her.

To be honest, he shouldn't even be worried about her, and it aggravates him. He should be worried about winning the Games and getting back home to Sammy, who probably hasn't left the house since Dean was reaped. He knows that school is out during the Games, so it's not like he has to miss that, but Dean is legitimately worried. Has Mary kept her promise and taken care of Sam or has Jo had to take care of her own family and his? He closes his eyes and silently hopes that Jo has had good luck hunting in the woods. He doesn't wanna think about the alternative.

He wishes he had talked to the butcher or the baker or someone about feeding Sam and Jess if Jo couldn't hunt. He shakes his head and opens his eyes – he knows better. No one in the Hob or the district would let Sam and Jess starve because he and Jo were so well-known and liked. And now that he's in the Games? Dean nods his head, no one is going to let Sam starve.

He takes a deep breath as the elevator rises.

When the elevator dings and opens, Castiel puts a hand on Dean's shoulders. "It's okay, Dean. Everything is going to be okay."

Dean gives her a smile, "I know it will."

The two of them walk side by side to the waiting bay, where the other 22 tributes are already seated. The only two available seats are behind Ruby and Benny, the tributes from 11, so Dean nudges Castiel in that direction and they take their seats.

Everyone is silent, it only adds to the tension in the room. HE wonders how many of these tributes are going in the room with a plan of attack, a certain weapon they're going to use, a certain trick they're going to try. He wonders how many of these tributes are going in terrified, with no idea what they're going to do.

He bets the 13 year old human from District 6 is about to piss her pants, he looks up to see her quivering in her seat. He nudges Castiel and nods in the 13 year old's direction. Castiel narrows her eyes and tilts her head to the side, "Why is she afraid?"

Dean shrugs and puts his head down.

One by one, tributes are called out. From District 1 to District 11, the pit in Dean's stomach grows to the point that he has to bury his face in his hands. Around District 7, Dean feels Castiel reach for his hand. It surprises him, but he gives her control of his hand and she lets their hands rest on his thigh. He considers what the other tributes would say, but then realizes he really doesn't give a shit.

He squeezes Castiel's hand and reaches for the other one.

No words are said. No words need to be said.

They sit that way, holding each other's hands until Dean's name is called.

He stands up, looks down at her, and nods. It's a brave nod, as if he has to convince himself that he can do this. Castiel smiles, "Good luck, Dean."

He nods again, "Good luck, Cas." He turns around and walks through the open door.

The room is large and open, filled with weapons like the training center had been yesterday. Dean zeroes in on a bow and a dark smile fills his face as he half-runs to it. He runs his hand over the metal and tests the string. He picks an arrow he likes and walks over to the target he was aiming for yesterday – he can still see the holes off the target where he missed on purpose.

He looks up at the balcony to see all the Gamemakers laughing and stuffing their faces with food and drink.

Dean's blood starts to boil, no wonder the outlying regions always get low scores – the damn Gamemakers are too drunk by then.

"Dean Winchester," he announces. The Gamemakers quiet for a few seconds, nod at him, and go back to their meals.

Dean shakes it off and goes back to the target. He remembers his words to Castiel yesterday: "aim small, miss small," so he chooses a small portion of the bull's eye and pulls the string back. He takes a deep breath and lets it soar, hitting the bull's eye in the dead center. He smiles and leans back, proud of himself.

He looks up at the Gamemakers and see that they're still scrambling for wine. Someone brings in a pig and they all start to exclaim.

Dean's blood starts to boil even more. He needs a good score, and his bull's eye should have earned him at least an eight or nine. Hell, Cas needs a good score too. Dean's hands tense on the bow – he's got to do something to get their attention, something to let them know that District 12 won't go quietly, that he and Castiel are different.

The first step is to make sure they pay attention to him and Castiel whenever she comes in.

When the pig is brought in, Dean sees an apple in its mouth. He smiles to himself and before he knows what he's doing, he knocks the arrow back and aims.

With a loud thud, the arrow sinks through the apple and hits the wall behind the Gamemakers. They instantly go silent, all turning to look at Dean.

He smiles widely and mock-salutes them, "Thank you for your consideration."

He sets the bow back where it goes and turns on his heel to walk out of the door. He decides to wait by the elevator for Castiel, because somehow he feels like they should face Bobby and Pamela and Ash together. He doesn't wait for more than 30 minutes before Castiel comes out of the same door that he did.

Dean gives her a smile, "How'd you do?"

Castiel smiles back, "Good, I guess. They paid a lot of attention to me. How about you?"

Dean chuckles and looks away as Castiel presses the elevator button. "I, uh, I shot the apple from the pig's mouth."

"What?"

Castiel's eyes are wide, "Dean what did you do?"

Dean shrugs, "They weren't paying attention. They'd already written 12 off, and I'm not gonna let that happen. We deserve a chance."

Castiel shakes her head in silence as they ride to the top of the building.

"Pamela is not going to be happy, you know."

Dean chuckles, "That uptight bitch needs to let loose a little bit."

He's not completely sure, but Dean thinks he sees a smile play at Castiel's lips as the elevator doors open.

To say that Pamela wouldn't be happy was an understatement. She paraded around the penthouse floor, screaming at Dean for his mistake. Ash had chuckled and given him a fistbump and Bobby had given him a drink of his whiskey to celebrate.

Dinner had been tense, mainly because Dean told Pamela that there was no way in hell he was going to apologize to the Gamemakers.

"Dean, that's just plain rude," Pamela had huffed in her seat.

Dean shrugged, "Making me kill 21 people for fun is a little rude too."

"Dean," Castiel had hissed. "Stop."

Dean just shrugged, "It's the truth."

Castiel had shaken her head, "Look, I don't wanna be here either, but the Games are necessary. The Capitol says we have to do it, so we do it. Follow the rules, okay?"

Dean had let the conversation drop and hadn't said anything until that evening, in front of the television.

Bobby sits on the big couch with a bottle in his hand. Ash sits beside him, shotgunning a beer. Dean desperately wants another drink of liquor – just enough to numb his aching head. The TV comes to life with Gabriel and Azazel talking about the tributes.

"We promised you that we'd have an exciting round of tributes this year!" Gabriel gushes, smiling wide at the camera.

Dean can feel his hand tightening around the arm of the chair he's in, anger pulsating through him. Rather than rant against the Capitol again, he just pictures ripping Gabriel and Azazel's lungs out. After a few minutes, he relaxes.

The announcers go through each of the districts, calling out the scores. The Careers score high – as normal, Dean's not really impressed. The human from 5, Bela Talbot, scores a seven and Dean cocks his head to one side, trying to imagine how she did it. He's unsurprised to see Benny score a nine since he's built like a Career, but Ruby manages to score only a five. Dean feels bad for her.

Then Castiel's picture comes on the screen. Gabriel smiles and looks down at Cas's picture.

Dean can feel Castiel tense up on the couch beside him as she leans forward in her seat. Dean finds himself leaning forward too.

"From District 12, Castiel. Classification: angel. A score of… eight."

Sighs erupt from the room. Dean grabs Castiel's hand and squeezes it while Ash claps her on the back.

"Good job," Bobby says, nodding his head in approval.

"Atta girl, Cas," Dean says, squeezing her hand.

She squeezes back with her left hand as her right points to the screen. "It's your turn now, Dean."

"Dean Winchester," Azazel smirks. Dean's skin crawls at the way Azazel says his name. "Human from District 12 with a score of… eleven."

The room stays silent for a few seconds as they all sit with mouths wide open. Then they erupt. Pamela and Ash rise from their seats and congratulate him, clinking their glasses together and making toasts. Castiel just sits beside him, quietly smiling and holding his hand, squeezing it every few seconds to let him know that she's there.

Dean just politely smiles and takes it all in, but his mind races. Why would they give him a score like that? Yeah, the shot was really good, but an eleven? Dean's only seen them give scores that high once in his entire life.

Panic starts to set in.

Sure, Cas got noticed and they gave her a great score, but what they hell has he done to himself?

"I guess they liked what you did," Bobby chuckles, taking another sip of his drink.

Or they made me a target, Dean adds in his head.