*A/N - Just wanted to give a forewarning that this chapter has descriptions of violence and blood. If you are someone who does not want to read those I would stop here!

—

District 12

Bucky sat rigidly at a dining chair. Mrs. Rogers was on the couch with his ma and Rebecca. His other three sisters played on the floor but they were relatively quiet. They were too young to fully understand what was going on, but they could sense the tension and it kept them subdued. His dad's team was on duty for the day. Even though the games were required viewing, the capitol knew that the production of coal was vital for the districts so they had rotating shifts. Bucky worked every other day and his father worked the opposite days.

Steve would be entering the arena today. He tried not to throw up the coffee that was sitting sourly in his stomach. His ma had been insistent that he eat something but he'd refused. He'd been sipping coffee to appease her, but of course it was just making him more anxious.

The Capitol anthem played out and Hayweather appeared. He had Arnim Zola, the head gamemaker, next to him and they began discussing the arena.

"Now the tributes don't have any idea what sort of arena they are entering do they?"

"It is a tightly kept secret among the gamemakers," Zola replied, "We don't want any one tribute having an advantage of what to expect."

"So what do we have in store for them?" Hayweather asked with a mischievous grin. He acted like he was asking what they prank they might pull instead of what murdering terrors awaited 24 teenagers.

"Well, we're enjoying this arena because we're doing something we've never done before." He paused dramatically. "There will be absolutely no sunlight the entire time. There will only be moonlight as a source and that will be muted and brightened as we decide. We wanted to see how the tributes would react to their internal clocks not receiving the normal input. When and where they sleep will be completely at random. They won't know when its safe to sleep! "

Hayweather gasped and clapped his hands robustly. "An arena with no sunlight?" He was smiling and then got a pensive look on his face. "But will that affect our visibility of the games? Watching tributes in the dark is not nearly as exciting."

Zola pointed at him with his eyebrows raised. "Ah, you have spoken on our first point of contention when this idea arose! We knew that people would not want to watch if the tributes were hard to see. So when we gave them their arena suits, we made sure they were a light absorbing material that only our cameras can see. So it will look bright and clear to us, but the tributes will still only see the night around them."

"Wow, that is fascinating! The technology involved alone is outstanding!" He pressed a finger to his ear. "Oh- I'm getting word the tributes have all entered the tubes and are ready to begin! Ladies and Gentlemen! I am happy to announce the 74th Hydra Games are about to begin!"

The Capitol logo was displayed and then the screen shifted to a huge open space. A gleaming steel cornucopia loaded with anything you could think of took up the majority of the screen, then panned out as the tributes entered the field.

Bucky looked at each tribute, waiting until they showed him.

"There!" Rebecca cried. She pointed and he followed her finger. "Behind that one there!"

As the camera shifted, Steve came into focus. The camera zoomed in on him and Bucky agonized over how small he looked compared to the others. The only one he closely matched in size was the 13 year old from District 8. The countdown until they could leave their pedestals was nearing its end. Whenever the camera wasn't directly on Steve, Bucky felt anxious that he was missing something. But he knew, with a sick realization, that if anything, good or bad, happened, they would show it. It was part of the show of the games.

He watched as Steve took off towards the tree line. He disappeared quickly after and the cameras focused on the bloodbath at the cornucopia. A little part of him felt surprised, Steve had never avoided a fight in his life, it drove Bucky crazy how often he'd found Steve bloodied and bruised throughout their childhood. It was always for some good or noble reason, but Bucky didn't understand how Steve could take so many beatings and still want to protect others at his own expense.

At least this once, he stayed away from the action.

They sat glued to the screen as the brutality of the games began. He didn't really want to watch, but he never knew when they'd show Steve, so he kept his eyes on the screen. District 1's male, Clayton, was raging around the cornucopia, he snapped Theo's neck before it had even been 5 minutes. Hearth and Bowman charged him with swords and a spear. They fought for a minute before Bowman received a slash to his knee and he went down. Clayton finished the job with a quick stab to his stomach.

He turned on Hearth and began attacking with fervor. They sparred for a while and Bucky thought that maybe Hearth would come out on top when an arrow from somewhere in the tree line sprouted through his chest. He toppled over and Clayton bellowed in victory. A flash across the screen and a knife slashed across Clayton's neck. Dove appeared behind him as he fell to the ground. She only got a few steps away when she collided with the male from District 5, Theseus. He picked her up and slammed her against the metal side of the cornucopia. She went still and he left her on the ground, disappearing behind the far side of the cornucopia.

They showed each death in great detail and with replays. They watched as 14 tributes died in increasingly gruesome ways. The worst was District 7's female, Kacey. She accidentally blew off her own legs with a grenade from the cornucopia and couldn't crawl away when Gavel, from district 3, came to finish her off.

After a while they showed all the dead tributes in the sky and then checked in with the remaining tributes. He was relieved to see Steve hiding in a tiny cave, his head poking out as he watched the capitol tell them who had died. He watched Steve's face crumble as he learned that the girl from District 8 was dead.

He realized that the tributes probably forgot that the cameras could see them wherever they went. Steve's face showed every emotion as he watched the tributes pass by. He crawled back inside and peeled off his vest. He was using it as a pillow when it cut to another tribute lighting a fire.

Bucky sighed, when would tributes learn that fires basically shouted your location to the other tributes. Mrs. Rogers left soon after, they made her promise that she would come back tomorrow.

—

Back in the Arena

Steve awoke to the sounds of wildlife. He opened his eyes and was surprised that it still seemed to be nighttime. Maybe he'd slept through the entire day, he wondered absently.

Everything in him wanted to stay hidden in his safe little cave forever, but he'd seen what happened to tributes that stayed in one place for too long. The gamemakers would get involved and it got ugly quick. So he crawled out, drank some water, put his vest back on, and started walking. As he walked, he kept his ears and eyes out. Running into another tribute by accident was the last thing he wanted to do. He moved his feet slowly and with precision, making as little sound as possible. He was glad for his suit as it hid him from view since it matched the night sky.

He stopped for another drink and noticed his reflection in the water. His suit may hide his body but his bright blonde hair and skin stood out against the dark.

He sat back on his heels in thought. Camouflage had been one of the stations at the training center, and he'd been excellent at it. It took an artistic eye for detail and Steve was relieved that his artist skills from home had come in handy.

He began searching for a dark berry. After locating a small blackberry bush, Steve gathered as many ripe ones as he could see and found a flat rock. He crushed the berries, leeching them of their juice and then mixed it with sap he found on the surrounding trees. It wasn't as dark as he would like, but since it was staying night for the foreseeable future it would work. He mixed the sap and the berry juice to create a sort of gel. He ran it through his hair, over and over again, covering any blonde that he could. He could have used mud, but this would stay longer. The dye of the berries would last and wouldn't wash out if he had to jump in a river or get rained on.

After he studied his reflection and deemed it a suitable job for what he had on hand he decided that his skin was next. Berry juice wouldn't work for that, and he wanted something he could wash off fast in case of emergency or an abrupt fauna change. He reached into the creek and took out some mud, he made circles and streaks and blotted it on his face, neck, and hands. When he was finished he looked in the water and could only see his own eyes clearly, the rest looked like a mottled mess in the dark. He smiled and his teeth shone, he almost laughed out loud but clamped his mouth shut just in time. No need to be drawing attention to himself.

He knew that if the gamemakers suddenly switched it to daytime, he would look ridiculous, blue haired and covered in mud, but for nighttime it worked perfectly.

He continued his hike in what he hoped was a large circle around the cornucopia. He wanted to sneak back down and see if there were any supplies that had been left or overlooked. Sometimes the supplies that weren't weapons were left and they could be handy if one knew how to use them. Steve remembered a tribute who used a net as a noose on another tribute. His stomach rolled, it had been a gruesome death to watch.

He heard a noise and stopped. He dropped to the ground and crawled up behind a tree. He peeked around the trunk slightly and saw Destiny, the girl from District 2, stalk through the woods maybe 50 feet from him. He steadied his lungs and breathed quietly, watching her to make sure she didn't get too close. She had a knife in her hand and Steve knew she could throw it with deadly aim.

After a few minutes her footsteps faded and he crawled out of hiding, putting as much distance between her and him as possible.

—-

Steve had now passed by at least three other tributes. Each time he chose to hide and wait until they'd passed by him. He was surprised the gamemakers weren't interfering yet, but he wasn't complaining. There must have been other deaths or exciting events happening that were keeping them occupied.

He'd walked almost to the tree line when a noise sent him flying behind a nearby bush. He stilled and held his breath as he heard two tributes pass by. They were arguing. He recognized Desmond's voice instantly.

"I'll kill her. I better be the one to wipe that smug smile off of her face."

"Shut up Desmond. She's from 6. She's a nobody. We'll get her eventually."

Steve froze. They were talking about Peggy… She must still be alive! He wondered what she'd done to make them so angry. He slowly peeked up and watched them disappear deeper into the woods.

He waited a bit and then crept down to the tree line. This time he did risk climbing a tree, he wanted high ground to be able to see the surrounding area.

He picked one that looked easy enough to climb and reached for the lowest branch.

He smiled again at the realization that his small size and weight allowed him to crawl higher up into a tree than anyone else would be able too. He heard a buzzing and turned sharply. But it was just a camera, attached to the tree, focusing on him. He decided that he would take this opportunity to let his ma know he was doing okay. He smiled, winked, and gave a small salute into the lense. He hoped they would show it so that she would be able to know he was still her "little captain". He chuckled at the nickname and turned back to the task at hand.

He scouted out that there wasn't any other tribute on the field. They could be hiding deep inside the cornucopia, but that was a good way to get cornered so he doubted it. Now the question was, how many tributes were hiding in the tree line, waiting for a chance to scavenge?

He waited a bit and when no one appeared he decided it was now or never. He hoped the darkness would cover him well enough that if anyone was watching they wouldn't be able to see him.

He climbed down as silently as he could and began to belly crawl across the plain. He kept his eyes sharp and scanning around him, but nothing happened as he approached the huge metal structure. He slid into the opening and listened. When he didn't hear anyone inside he began to sift through what was there. He was surprised by how many items were still sitting around, but then it dawned on him that with only 10 tributes left, there were too many weapons for the rest of them to carry. While it was good to have options, even the career tributes knew that losing speed by being weighed down by too many weapons could mean the difference between death and escaping.

He came across a wooden box that had some food packets inside. He opened the first package he touched and what looked like thick wafers was inside. He was about to stuff it in his mouth when he stopped. Even here, in the arena, he was allergic to a lot, and he refused to die because of his own idiocy. He checked the packaging and it was labeled "protein squares". He sighed. That wasn't helpful. He was pretty allergic to nuts and this looked like it could have some in it. He put it back and reached for one that was labeled "dried fruit". He opened it and ate hungrily.

He stuffed another similar package into his pants pocket. He grabbed three knives, one he put in his left boot and two he strapped to his belt. He also grabbed a leather backpack that he found sitting empty behind another crate. He put whatever he thought might be useful inside. A blanket, a lighter, a first aid kit, an empty water bottle that he could use to fill up at the stream, and what looked like a bottle of medicine, but he couldn't tell what it was.

After awhile he got back down on his stomach and was about to crawl when he heard rushed footsteps approaching. His heart went into overdrive as adrenaline crashed his system. He knew he had only a few seconds before they would see him. He ran into the mouth of the cornucopia and dropped to the floor behind three large crates. His hand gripped the knife on his belt as he froze in place.

Lukas and Mauve, the tributes from District 11 walked into his view. He felt his heart thundering in his chest and hoped they couldn't hear it.

They were talking in hushed whispers as they sifted through the items. Mauve got close to him and lifted one of the three crates that he was hiding behind. He was looking straight at her but she didn't see him. She just moved the top crate to the side and sat down facing away from him. He stared at her back in surprise, the knuckles on his hands pure white as he gripped the knife in his right hand.

He could stab her. It would actually be easy because she wasn't paying attention. He could catch her and Lukas off guard and he might even be lucky enough to take both of them out. Those thoughts ran through his head but he didn't make a move. Something deep inside him, the part that he should have tried to lock away when he entered the arena, told him that killing this girl and this boy was wrong. It didn't matter if they attacked him or not, they shouldn't even be fighting each other. Why did the capitol insist on their blood sacrifices?

He swallowed hard and felt sick. His grip loosened on the knife and he slunk further to the floor hoping that she wouldn't look behind him. He waited as they gathered whatever items they wanted. He worried she might put the original crate back in place and see him, but she didn't. She just stood up, and her and Lukas crept to the mouth of the cornucopia. Even at this angle Steve could have thrown his two knives fast enough to catch them in the backs. He tried to imagine himself doing it, keeping his promise to his ma and Bucky, doing what it took to get home… But he sat there without moving. He couldn't do it. It wasn't right.

After they left he crawled all the way back to the tree line. He walked quietly back towards his original hideout between the rocks. He knew it was risky staying in the same place twice, but he hoped that the gamemakers wouldn't get too restless with him.

—-

Back in District 12

Bucky watched helplessly as the cameras showed the two tributes from District 11 approaching the cornucopia where Steve was now. He watched as Steve hid behind crates and the two entered without seeing him.

When Mauve lifted the crate where Steve was hiding Bucky's eyes whipped to Mrs. Rogers. Her face was frozen with fear.

To their surprise, Mauve didn't see him crouched down. He realized that what Zola said was true, it must be a lot darker in the arena than it was on their screens.

The camera zoomed in on Steve's hand; there was a knife gripped so hard that Bucky thought his hand would crack. The camera panned back to his face and Bucky watched as Steve thought about using it. He could see it in his best friend's eyes, the idea that this could be his first kill in the arena. Killing them was what the capitol expected him to do. But something in Steve's eyes shifted and his hand relaxed the grip on his knife. Bucky watched as Steve shrunk further to the ground and realization hit that he wasn't going to even try to kill them.

A wide range of emotions rushed through him; annoyance at Steve for not just doing what needed to be done, quickly followed with relief that he wouldn't have to watch his best friend kill someone, followed even more quickly with the dread that if Steve wasn't willing to kill then he wasn't going to be coming home.

—-

Back in the Arena

Steve had almost made it back to his hideout when the game makers decided to interfere. A loud rushing noise came from his right and he jumped back just in time to avoid the huge rush of water. The tiny stream was now a river and his hideout was now below the surface.

He sighed. Something about it always being night made him perpetually tired, and he needed a place to rest.

The river continued to roar and it became clear that it wasn't going back to a stream anytime soon. Not that he'd really want to stay in a damp cave… That wouldn't be good for his lungs.

The trees gave him good cover as he crept along the bank, but he did not anticipate or adjust for lack of sound caused by the roar of the river. It wasn't until he saw brunette hair appear from his left that he realized his mistake. He dropped down to the ground but it was too late, the girl threw something his direction and it whizzed over his head.

He knew staying in this position meant certain death so he popped up and ran down the bank towards the river. A voice called but the river was too loud for him to hear. He dove in and the freezing temperatures took his breath away.

He swam with all his meager strength, willing his limbs to keep moving. When his gloved hands scratched against the other side of the river bank he crawled out. He hoped whatever weapons the girl still hadn't wouldn't reach him. He coughed and sputtered up onto the side of the bank and turned around.

Maureen stood at the other edge with her hands raised, an apologetic look on her face.

"Maureen?" He asked breathlessly.

"Oh Steve! I'm so sorry! I didn't realize it was you, and I just reacted!" He wiped the water from his eyes and face. "I didn't recognize you with dark hair…" He swiped a hand over his head and sure enough his fingers came away slightly blue, so the "dye" was still working. He used the water to wash it out mostly, he'd redo it in a bit.

"It's okay." He said, his breathing slowing down. "I didn't know it was you either. I didn't realize how far I'd walked, didn't mean to come into your territory."

She laughed at that and sat down on the bank opposite him.

"How have you been?" He asked, peeling off his vest and squeezing excess water from it.

"Other than starving?" She laughed. "I've been okay, I stayed away from the cornucopia, and I had a small run in with Sapphire, but I climbed up a tree and got away." He nodded, impressed, and reached into his pockets. He was glad they were sealed well so no water had gotten in. He tossed one of the extra bags of dried fruit to her and she caught it, eyes wide.

"I can't take this, you might need it later!"

"Maybe," he shrugged, "but you need it now." She looked at him guiltily but he waved encouragingly and she dug in.

After she finished the bag, they stood and walked along the bank, opposite sides but in the same direction.

They came to a part where rocks were tall enough where Maureen could walk across to his side.

They'd fallen into an easy pace, her a few feet ahead of him, and him disguising their tracks as they went. He was about to ask to stop to rest when he heard a whoosh.

His eyes whipped to Maureen who was looking down. He saw movement and before he could even think he stepped forward and shoved Maureen out of the way. He felt something slam into him and pain exploded from his torso. He screamed but couldn't move.

A tall figure appeared but his vision was blurry and black around the edges. Movement happened and suddenly he heard screaming. His adrenaline surged and he saw Desmond standing over Maureen. She had a cut over her eye.

"No-" he huffed, his mind was trying to go into shock and numb the pain but he willed himself to stay alert. Maureen was in danger. "Desmond stop." He groaned in agony, but was too afraid to look down at what was holding him in place.

"Well, like I said," Desmond smiled with malice, "I knew you wouldn't be able to put up a fight, wouldn't even be able to protect someone else. Almost feels too easy."

Steve couldn't move and he could barely breathe. He felt himself getting cold. A symptom of blood loss he'd learned from Howard. "Please." He said as loudly as he could; just talking sent arcs of pain through his body. His voice came out cracked and brittle. "Let her live, you can kill me instead."

Desmond barked a laugh. "This isn't an either/or situation here. You are both going onto my list of kills. I'm just glad you get to watch the hers happen." Maureen was back on her feet, wiping her brow.

"You stay away from us." She threatened, a knife in hand. Her face looked pale but she had a determined set to her mouth.

Steve finally looked down. The shaft of a spear was embedded into the lower part of his torso on his right side. The head of the spear was lodged into the tree that Steve had been standing in front of when he shoved Maureen out of the way. He was pinned to the tree, rendering him immobile. His hands grasped at his stomach coming away dark red. He felt his heart beating erratically and he knew that it probably wouldn't be able to go much longer.

"Steve," Desmond said, grabbing Steve's chin gruffly and yanking his face towards where Maureen was standing. "Tell her to beg for her life."

"Maureen," Steve whispered, "run."

Her eyes had tear tracks trailing beneath them.

"I can't-"

"Go." Steve commanded. "Make it home. For me." Desmond roughly shoved his face down and the movement made him almost black out from pain. He felt more than saw Maureen take off. Desmond roared in anger and took off after her.

Steve grasped the wooden spear handle and tried to pull it out, his arms shaking and weak from the pain and blood loss. It refused to budge and he cried out in pain again. Next he tried to slide his body down the spear but the pain and the downward angle of how it had pinned him to the tree made it impossible.

He felt a humming in his chest, and his heart began to beat slower. It was steady but it was slowing down. Something told him that it was unnatural but he barely had time to register that before he heard Maureen scream.

Desmond brought her back into his line of sight by dragging her by her hair and an arm.

"You wanna volunteer for her too?" He sneered. Steve couldn't even speak. His throat was tight and the pain was overwhelming. "That's what I thought."

Steve tried to reach towards her, but with a motion quicker than he could follow, he heard a snap. A cannon boom followed right after.

Desmond walked forward and placed his hands on the shaft of the spear. He pushed hard, forcing the point further into the bark, making Steve scream out in pain at the motion of it and removing any option of saving himself. Steve waited for the final blow, almost hoping for it, so that the horrible lifeless look in Maureen's eyes would stop replaying over and over in his mind.

But Desmond just stepped back, smiled at him, and wiped his hands as if he'd just finished a good day's work.

"I look forward to hearing your cannon soon." He tipped his head and strode off into the woods.

Steve watched as the hovership came and collected her body. He cried until he could barely breathe. His heart slowed down even more, and the last thing he remembered was slumping forward watching the blood drip from his body.

—

*A/N - Sorry about this one! The Hunger Games never shied away from the violence so I figured I wouldn't either. There will be some comfort coming up though so don't worry.

Feel free to let me know what you think!