This is another random story that I'm not quite sure came from... Let's see how this one goes...

Chapter One

The sun rose, the bell tower chimed. It could have passed for a normal day if no one knew any better. But while the sun and rest of Mother Nature was allowed to act as if nothing out of the ordinary was a going to happen, the people of the country weren't allowed such a luxury.

Everyone in my house awoke, they were on edge within seconds of remembering what day it was. We all dressed in our best out of forced respect for the day's events, but no one was in much of a mood to even attempt a fake smile. Mom and Dad were breaking down at the possibility of losing me or Jazz. Me and the sister in question were both racked with nerves. What would we do if one of our friends got picked? What would we do if the other were picked? And most importantly, what the hell would we do if we got picked for the horrid "Games"? We couldn't volunteer to save the other, and while I could probably manage to pull off a win, Jazz had almost no hope of survival should she be thrown into the arena.

Saying today was the worst day of the year was the understatement of an understatement. You simply did not start this day with a smile on your face, it was practically taboo. Even celebrating the luck that you're child, friend, or sibling survived the annual reaping was something better left inside one's own head. No one survived the day unscathed.

School was non-existent for the day, and while this would normally make kids jump for joy, today it just reiterated that there was no need for happiness when two people you knew were about to be picked at random and practically thrown into a slaughter house. District 12 was not known for having winners, the kids picked were sentenced to an almost guaranteed death. They didn't even have any mentors to increase the chances of survival. We all hated the Reaping, and we all hated the Games.

The Hunger Games, what a name. The only thing anyone in the capital was hungry for was death and sorrow. Sorrow was exactly what those assholes got as we all made our way from the relative comfort of our shacks to the central square of our district. God, why the hell were the decorations so damn festive? The people in charge had no fucking right to try and force such cheerful decoration onto such a godforsaken day. I took one last look at the shack I called home, there was no guarantee I'd ever see it again in my half-life. I sent up a mental prayer to the heavens that if someone in my family had to be chosen, it would be me. I didn't like the prospect of revealing myself to the world or my family, but as the half-ghost I was I could survive if I really tried to.

The only question was would it be worth surviving if it meant I had to see countless more years of kids sent off to their own graves? 35 years of this shit and no one had been able to put a stop to it. 804 kids dead and no one had stopped the murder. No one in charge had a heart or a soul. I hoped I got the chance to kick the asses of their ghosts in the future, they more than deserved it.

The square was almost full when I got there. There was still a good half hour until the Reaping, but no one was willing to run the risk that they might be late, no one wanted to face the Peacekeepers. I found Sam and Tucker in the crowd; they were looking as dejected as I was. We all had our names in the drawing multiple times, we all had a chance of being picked.

Time crept by, and the few tears that could break past the strong defenses of the population were shed. Some stupidly dressed lady came out and introduced herself, I didn't bother to listen, I barely noticed the ceremony had started until the fake applause of "excitement" had erupted. I scoffed internally. There wasn't one soul in the crowd who was clapping because they wanted to, they were all clapping because they simply wanted to live. I forced myself to focus after the applause died down. I wanted to know which unlucky souls I'd never e seeing again.

"Ladies first." Yeah, yeah. We know. Just call out the damn name already. And do try to contain your excitement, it is your job to send kids to their deaths after all.

She cleared her throat as she read the name on that damned piece of paper. "Rachel McCall." I knew her, she was in the same grade as me. She was short, I doubted she even hit five foot. Her hair was brown and cut off just below her chin. She was more screwed than any other tribute I'd ever known. The only special skill she had was rattling off all the various bullshit that came out of that stupid Bible she carried around. I had no doubt in my mind she'd take that as her trinket, though what she'd do with it I didn't know. Fire fuel was about the only good thing she could use it for.

I heard her parents and younger sisters crying among their own scattered prayers that she'd come home safe. "Come on up here dear." She moved reluctantly, keeping her precious book close to her chest. She was scared shitless, but I didn't really blame her, no one wanted to be sent to their grave. I laughed thinking about all the various acts of the devil she'd end up doing if she wanted to survive. What can I say? She got on my nerves trying to save everyone's soul.

She finally made it up to the platform, but she couldn't find it in herself to speak when the lady in charge of the drawing tried to talk to her. She just stood there staring blankly into the crowd. Though when you put it into perspective of what other tributes had done upon reaching the platform or even hearing their name called, she was doing pretty good.

The lady on stage finally stopped trying to get Rachel to talk and moved over to the next bowl of names. "Now for the gentlemen." Sam was still tensed even though she was safe from the Games this year. There was still a possibility me or Tucker would find ourselves standing on that platform alongside the little Christian girl.

"Daniel Fenton." Well, shit. On the bright side, whatever controlled the universe had listened to me and made me the Fenton family tribute instead of my sister. My mom was hysterical, my dad was barely keeping it together enough to keep her from completely losing it. My sister just stared at me, knowing that I could make it back if I really wanted to, but internally questioned if I deemed my life important enough to reveal my little secret. It was seeing that look on her face before I trudged forward that made me decided that I was coming back, I was going to win these blasted Games. Damn my secret identity, I was going to win.

Sam held on to my hand as long as she could, refusing to believe I'd been chosen. I had to phase myself out of her grasp before I got up on the stage. There were tears in her eyes, tears in the eyes of my family, tears in the eyes of my family, hell, I think even Lancer had a tear in his eye.

I flat out ignored the retarded lady when I got up on stage. The prospect of death didn't get to me, I'd faced it a million times. No, I was simply silent because I didn't feel like giving the damned Capital the pleasure of making me talk. I stared at the little Christian girl beside me on the stage, this was the last time she was going to see her home, even if I had to kill her myself.

The lady on the stage babbled on some incoherent nonsense before ending the ceremony with the same irritating enthusiasm she'd started it with.

"And, always, happy Hunger Games!" Happy? Who the hell thought it was appropriate to put the words 'happy' and 'Hunger Games' in the same sentence?

I suddenly felt rough hands on my shoulders, pushing me into the custody of the Peacekeepers. If it wouldn't get my family hunted down and killed, I would have escaped right then and there, it would have been all too easy for a halfa like me. I walked in silence, as did Rachel. We sat in our separate rooms awaiting out final hour with our friends and family before we'd be thrown into the arena to fight to the death. My parents came, but they could only stay in the room for roughly twenty minutes before they had to leave in order to keep my mom from doing something she'd regret.

Sam and Tucker approached as they left, there something familiar in Tucker's hand, a Fenton Phone. Had anyone else given it to me, I would have thought it a pointless trinket to keep with me. But, because it was from them I knew it was more than just a pointless trinket. Everyone knew of Tucker's obsession with technology, but only me and Sam knew his true skill with it. As long as I could keep the Fenton Phone intact throughout the games, there was no doubt he'd be able to hack into it and communicate with me without getting caught. It was good to know that my friends would be there with me in some form or another. Tucker finally left as Jazz approached me.

"Stay safe, little brother." I smiled back at her familiar words; she'd said them to me several times in the past, usually before a major shitstorm hit.

"Don't worry, Jazz. I will. You know I've faced worse than this. Compared to the evil future alternative of myself, the Games should be a walk in the park." She smiled a little at my attempt at humor.

"Promise me you won't be afraid to use your powers to survive, they're all you've got going for you."

"I promise." We both smiled weakly before Jazz left to comfort our mother. I had five more minutes before I'd be left all alone. Sam was the only person left in the room, the only person who'd been able to keep themselves under enough control to stay with me.

She didn't speak. She just grabbed my hands and pulled me closer. Sam was suddenly up in her toes, trying to get as high up as she could manage. Her lips brushed mine for a fraction of a second before she backed away. I didn't let her get too far from me; I put my hands around her waist and pulled her closer to me before bending down and giving her a real kiss.

I hadn't planned on our meeting ending that way, it just did. I didn't expect her to kiss me or me to kiss her back. Sure, we'd had fake-out make-outs in the past to keep my cover, but this was different. This was the real thing.

She stepped away when the door opened to reveal the Peacekeeper that was going to tear the love of my life out of my arms. "Come back to me Danny." She whispered as she was dragged out the door leaving me utterly alone in the dark room. I clenched the Fenton Phone in my fist as the loneliness settled in. I needed to get home and back to her as soon as I could, there were now so many unanswered questions about what we were. Were we still just best friends, or did she, like myself, want to try taking our relationship to the next level?

My head was still spinning as I boarded the train that would take me and the little Christian girl to the Capital and the Hunger Games.

So what do you all think? Love it, hate? Keep going, burn it now?

I'd love to hear from you! :D

If I keep it going, I do intend on actually finishing it unlike some of the other crossovers I've seen for this.

Invisible One