A/N- Sup. Thatnk you to the people who reviewed, followed and favourited. The reviews put a massive smile onto my face. Please leave some more :)
Disclaimer- Nope, don't own anything
Dean stifled a yawn over his breakfast. Despite his best efforts, he had a poor night's sleep, in fact, he figured that he was awake more than he was asleep. Now he was attempting to stuff as much food into himself as possible. Who knew when he was going to get his next meal?
"Dean, there's nothing I can say that will make you feel better," Bobby told him. "But if I could bet on you, I would. You're strategic and you fight well. Be smart in there, and don't make allies with the wrong people," Bobby told him.
Dean nodded his head but stared grimly into his food. "Bobby, will you make me a promise?" Dean asked after a few minutes, and Bobby nodded his head. "If I die in there, could you keep an eye out for Sammy? He needs someone other than Dad and you were the nearest thing we had to a father." Dean told him.
"Of course, ya ijdit. You didn't even have to ask," Bobby replied. Dean smiled, before putting a few more pieces of breakfast into his mouth.
Dean felt sick all the time he was in the hovercraft. He was gripping onto the side of his seat the whole time and decided that he would never get into a hovercraft again if he could help it. There was nobody else with him as he was escorted to the launch room, he had refused to let his stylist be there, that would be the worst thing he could imagine. He hated everyone from the Capitol, especially the women who 'prettied him up' for the camera. Part of him wished that Bobby was here with him, but he convinced himself that no-one was better, nobody so see him terrified.
He noticed the outfit on the bench across the room. A dark green lightweight jacket, boots, heat retaining socks, a black t-shirt and grey-green combat trousers. He couldn't complain, it was pretty much what he would wear at home. Dean changed into his arena clothes, wiggling around in them to put them into the most comfortable position. He was pleasantly surprised when they all fit him perfectly. He supposed his designer wasn't terrible if she could get him the right size.
He heard the voice telling him to get ready for launch and he automatically gripped Sam's necklace tightly for reassurance, allowing it to reduce his anxiety. Not matter what happened, he knew Sam would be ok. Dean didn't even flinch as the plate rose and sunlight burst into his eyes as he entered the arena.
Dean glanced around, trying to take in his surroundings. He could see jungle on the left side of the Cornucopia, and on the right-hand side lay a mountain range. Straight ahead of him, he predicted over two kilometers away, partially blocked by the Cornucopia, were caves. There was a small lake directly behind, surrounded by tall rocks, and Dean pondered whether that was the only water source. Dean stared at the surroundings, deciding where the best place to go after getting a weapon was. He had no idea what the caves could hold. Dean could climb, but he wasn't great and he particularly didn't want to die of hypothermia, so the mountains seemed unlikely. The jungle would likely hold water, a necessity for survival, but other tributes would have the same idea. Despite the rocks surrounding a lot of the lake causing a good amount of hiding places, in theory, it wasn't the smartest place to hide in. Dean heard the countdown tick closer. He glanced over the Cornucopia, looking for a trident, but saw none there. Damn, Dean thought but noticed a knife that would act as a sufficient replacement.
Dean bent down, ready for a sprint start. He wasn't going to be one of those killed in the bloodbath. The moment the cannon went, Dean sprinted towards the Cornucopia. He was one of the first ones there, and he didn't hesitate to pick up a machete and a smaller, wooden handled knife, good for hand to hand combat. He quickly glanced around for anything else that could be of use, but he didn't see anything stand out to him. Dean knew he had spent long enough there and turned around, and started to sprint away from the Cornucopia, when he ran into the girl from District Six, Casey, swinging a mace. She swung at him, and he narrowly dodged it. "You don't want to do this," Dean told her. She only swung again with the mace in response. Dean expertly dodged it, moving around her, trying to move out the danger zone. He didn't really want to kill her, it wasn't her fault she was in the games, but she was trying to kill him. But she continued to swing at him, and each time he dodged. Finally, he attacked back, finding an opening, and gave her a killing blow with his small knife. Dean didn't even wait to see her fall to the ground before he pulled out his knife and ran off into the jungle, not wanting anybody else to attack him.
"You don't want to do this," Dean told her. She only swung again with the mace in response. Dean expertly dodged it, moving around her, trying to move out the danger zone. He didn't really want to kill her, it wasn't her fault she was in the games, but she was trying to kill him. But she continued to swing at him, and each time he dodged. Finally, he attacked back, finding an opening, and gave her a killing blow with his small knife. Dean didn't even wait to see her fall to the ground before he pulled out his knife and ran off into the jungle, not wanting anybody else to attack him.
Dean kept running, not stopping until he was out of breath, and even then he kept walking. It wasn't until he was sure he was away from everybody else that he stopped. He doubled over, feeling sick to his core. That was his first kill of a human. A child. He didn't even know the girl's name. Seconds later, the contents of his stomach made an appearance, causing Dean to lose any food that he had managed to scoff down at breakfast. Dean stayed like this for what seemed like hours, until he heard the cannons boom. Seven, Dean counted. Seven unlucky children had already died, but sixteen were left to play. Dean stood up and shook himself, a pity party for himself wasn't going to make him win the games. He would have to suck it up, like his father had told him countless times years ago, and kill anyone who came across his path. He tried to convince himself that every time he heard the cannon, it would be music to his ears. Perhaps if he said it enough, he would believe it. Dean jogged deeper into the jungle, knowing that he had to start moving again if he was going to win the games.
He glanced around, thinking about what to do next. Water, Dean thought to himself and glanced around. He had no idea whether was even water in the jungle. He quickly looked around for any signs of animals, but he saw none in sight. Damn it, Dean thought to himself, before continuing to walk. As it started to get dark, Dean decided to give up and try again tomorrow, deciding that building shelter was now his best priority. He was sure the was far enough away from the other tributes, and he could keep looking for water and food tomorrow so long as he got a half decent night's sleep.
Dean scanned his environment, looking for any dangers and natural shelters. He didn't want to sleep out in the open, where anybody could see and kill him without giving him time to hear them coming. After a few minutes, he noticed that he was stood over a small ledge of no more than a meter that had a gap underneath just big enough to conceal a person. Dean smiled, knowing that it would be perfect for tonight, maybe even for the next few days if he was lucky. Dean jumped off the ledge, and pushed the grass away in front of the gap, using the last few minutes of daylight to confirm there was no beast under there that was going to kill him whilst he slept. Once he had decided that it was all clear, he crawled his way in, and attempted to make himself comfortable, although his stomach was already growling and his mouth was parched.
He knew it was going to be a long night. It wasn't as though he wasn't used to being hungry. Living in the poorest part of Four, with no steady income, meant hunger came with the territory. But he was used to filling himself up with water instead. Now, he was both dehydrated and hungry.
Just as Dean was eventually closing his eyes to sleep, he was startled awake by the anthem. Dean groaned, knowing that it was going to take him forever to get back to sleep, but looked up into the sky to see who the fallen tributes were. The boy and girl from three, Chet and Telle, appeared first. Then Nina from five. The girl from six appeared next. Becky from Eight. Harvey from Nine. Finally Collis from Twelve.
As soon as the music died out and the faces disappeared, a small parachute came floating down from the sky, landing in the grass in front of him. Dean was confused, hardly anybody got a gift this early on, but when he saw it he grinned from ear to ear. It was a package of food and water. Dean smiled up to the sky, giving it a wink that he was sure the cameras would catch. He quickly gulped down half the water, parching his thirst, and took a few bites of the stew. Dean unsheathed his machete and gripped it tightly in his hand, before putting his head down to sleep, shivering slightly. Not matter how badly he wanted to warm himself up, he knew he couldn't make a fire, knowing that he might as well stand next to the cornucopia with a flashing sign saying 'here I am, kill me!' if he did so.
