Author's Warnings: This chapter contains minor character deaths. Happy Huinger Games everyone!

"Blaine?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you asleep?"

"No."

Blaine shifted so he could look down at Kurt in the darkness. The curtains were not drawn, which allowed the light from the moon to pour into the room, bathing Kurt in a soft glow.

Kurt's head was resting on Blaine's chest, his arm draped over Blaine's stomach and their legs were tangled together. After the interviews had finished everyone ate in silence back on the eighth floor. Glances filled with pity were aimed at them the entire meal but no one said anything. There was nothing to say.

Not wanting to spend another second away from Kurt, Blaine had wordlessly taken Kurt's hand and led him to his room, pulling the other boy close to him when they got under the covers in the bed. Kurt could hear Blaine's heart beating fast and hard against his chest with the simple act of lying together.

Fifteen hours.

After years of being hopelessly in love with Kurt, Blaine was allowed fifteen hours of happiness before it was being ripped from him, leaving him feeling vulnerable and broken. Fifteen hours of being with Kurt before they had to say their goodbyes and Kurt would be taken to the arena. The possibility of him not getting out of there threatened to consume Blaine. But he had to stay strong, for Kurt. He couldn't cry, not until Kurt was in the arena.

The only upside to the Hunger Games were that Blaine wouldn't have to worry about what Kurt was doing. He could watch the entire thing roll out on live television, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. That was also the downside. Blaine would have to watch Kurt suffer.

Blaine pulled Kurt closer, his arms wrapping around the other boy's frame protectively. He kissed his forehead, his lips lingering there as he felt the warmth of Kurt's skin on his.

"I'm scared, Blaine," Kurt admitted, his hand fisting Blaine's t-shirt. He looked up at Blaine, his eyes bright and shining in the moonlight. He looked like an angel.

"Just remember what I told you," Blaine said. "Find a water source and try to ally with Mike. He can teach you how to fish. Stick to the trees or high ground if possible so you can see anyone coming. And remember," Blaine swallowed thickly, the lump in his throat remaining, "I'll be watching, you won't be alone. If you need anything, I will find a way to get it to you."

They were silent. Kurt smoothed out Blaine's t-shirt while Blaine drew lazy circles on Kurt's forearm with his fingertips, enjoying the humming noises Kurt was making.

"Blaine," Kurt said, after a few minutes, his voice low but clear. "I – I love you."

Blaine's breath caught in his throat, his lips parting in surprise as his brain tried to process what Kurt had just said.

"I just – I wanted to tell you before tomorrow," Kurt added sheepishly. He wet his lips and looked at Blaine with hopeful, yet fearful eyes.

"I love you too, Kurt," Blaine whispered, bowing his head down to capture Kurt's lips in a sweet kiss. He felt Kurt's lips turn up into a smile. When they broke apart, Blaine leaned back in, peppering Kurt's lips in tiny kisses, making him giggle. "I've loved you for so long, you have no idea," he admitted, unable to stop the goofy smile from overtaking his face.

"I do," Kurt said seriously. "I watched you every day in the arena last year. When you found Wes from District Seven on the river bank, his leg bleeding out as he slipped in and out of consciousness, and you bandaged his leg and gave him your last soup from your pack, I… I fell in love with that boy."

"Kurt," Blaine breathed, the whimper in his voice wrapping around his name. He could feel his eyes swimming with fresh tears. They had lost so much time and now it was all over. They could have been together in District Eight, reading books and taking walks around the market and across the meadow. Everything would have been perfect.

Blaine rolled onto his side so he was facing Kurt. He pulled Kurt close and pressed their lips together for a longer kiss, his tongue brushing over Kurt's bottom lip as he moaned softly against him. Kurt placed his hand on Blaine's cheek, his thumb stroking the smooth skin gently, his body pressing forwards until they were flush together.

Blaine dipped his tongue into Kurt's mouth, earning a whimper from Kurt, whose fingers were now carding through Blaine's curls, holding him close. Blaine's head felt cloudy, his body entirely too warm and his skin prickled pleasantly.

Being with Kurt, just like this, was everything Blaine wanted.

The dawn was approaching before they fell asleep, wrapped up in each other. Their bodies merging as one with limbs wrapped around limbs, Kurt's face pressed into Blaine's collarbone, his nose squashed up against Blaine's neck as he slept. The restless night mixed with gentle kisses and caresses taking its toll on the boys who finally fell asleep around four in the morning.

They dressed in silence, Blaine in a button down shirt and dress pants and Kurt in a simple tunic. He would be dressed and prepared in the catacombs under the arena itself that morning.

When Mercedes came to collect Kurt she gave him and Blaine a knowing sad smile and told him she would wait outside.

They stood in front of each other and just stared. Blaine's arms felt extremely heavy beside him and he wondered if his feet had actually rooted to the ground. Kurt looked at him, his face stricken and pale, and his eyes glossy and no longer full of the warmth Blaine witnessed last night. He looked lost. He looked like he was about to break and it physical pained Blaine because he felt so helpless, knowing there was nothing he could do.

Kurt swallowed hard, his bottom lip jutting out as he took a step forwards and reached out to brush Blaine's arm. Blaine shuddered at the touch and this caused Kurt to pull away quickly. Blaine felt a rush of air hit him square in the chest and he lunged forwards, pulling Kurt's body as close to his as he could.

Blaine breathed in deeply, smelling himself mixed in with Kurt's natural scent. As silent tears started to stream down his cheeks, Blaine held Kurt tighter to stop his own body shaking. Kurt clung back, his face buried into Blaine's shoulder.

"Don't forget me," Kurt mumbled into Blaine's shirt.

Blaine gasped and pulled back to look at Kurt, gripping his biceps. Kurt's eyes were turning red and his cheeks were wet.

"I will never forget you," Blaine said, his voice harsh and his tone suggesting Kurt was being ludicrous. "I will never forget you because you are going to win and come back to me."

Kurt merely shook his head and then dropped his head in defeat as he bit down on his bottom lip. "Blaine…"

"Kurt," Blaine said firmly. He leaned in, pressing his lips to Kurt to gain his attention. "I believe in you."

He said the words with such film belief that Kurt could only nod before he wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck, pulling him close for a long kiss. Blaine's hands held onto Kurt's hips, one of his hands holding onto the dip of his lower back. The kiss was slow, they lips sliding together purposely, their tongues meeting for one last time before they pulled away, their faces red and their lips moist and rosy.

It was only when Kurt waved one last time to Blaine before the door on the hovercraft closed that Blaine allowed his emotions to overcome him. He dropped to his knees, falling back on his calves as he sobbed, his breath coming in as a long wheeze and his tears falling quicker than he could wipe them away.

Kurt doesn't have time to think about Blaine as the cylinder begins to rise. He is surrounded in darkness, a circle of light getting closer above him until he is completely out and in the open air. The sun was bright, so he shielded his eyes, blinking rapidly until he could adjust to the light. It's hot, too hot to be running. Kurt made a mental note to find water and then somewhere shady to hide until nightfall.

"Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-fourth Hunger Games begin!"

They had sixty seconds before the gong sounded to release them and then the Games really would begin. Kurt looked around at the others, some looked determined, others looked scared and the rest were eyeing up the array of bags around the Cornucopia.

They were standing on metal circles surrounding a large grass area. The Cornucopia sat in the centre with weapons, bags and random items scattered around them. Kurt noticed a sword sticking out of the ground near the middle, various knives and daggers and a bow spotted around the grass. There was a bag of apples on the far edge next to the tributes from District Twelve, they could grab them and run before some of the other tributes had even left their circles. Kurt looked around at the various bags, all dark green in colour and with no indication of what was inside.

From what Kurt could see, there was a forest to the left of him and a lake to the right. He hoped there was another water source in the forest and that he wouldn't be forced to risk his life getting water from the lake. Kurt told himself that if that were true, the Games would be over a lot quicker, so there had to be water within those trees somewhere.

Kurt didn't dare more from the metal circle. He couldn't remember when the sixty seconds began so he decided to spend his last remaining moments of freedom trying to decide which bag to go for. That is, until something caught his eye.

He looked over at Brittany, the District Ten tribute, who was hopelessly trying to reach the bag of apples that were a mere foot away from her. She was squatting, her arm straining to reach the bag that was a few itches out of her reach.

Then it happened.

Kurt stared in horror, the colour draining from his face, as he watched Brittany's expression change from determined to terror as she fell off the circle, which exploded underneath her.

Sugar, the tribute from District Eleven screamed, wiping pieces of flesh off of her face as she cried. Kurt blinked, mouth falling open as he looked at the spot where Brittany had been seconds before. His stomach turned uncomfortably and he felt his breakfast threaten to come up.

The gong sounded and it took a moment before anyone moved, too afraid to actually step off in case the same happened to them. When they did move, everything went past in a blur.

Kurt jumped off the circle and then sprinted forwards towards a bag that was lying next to a dagger. With a yelp, Kurt was shoved to the ground by a burly boy from District Ten who grabbed the bag and dagger and made a break for the woods. He didn't make it very far before Puck from District Two caught him in the back of his neck with a knife, the large boy falling face first onto the ground. A cannon sounded from above to signify the death.

Kurt was panting on the ground, his eyes wide and unblinking as he watched Puck make a fist and pull it down like he was ringing a bell as he shouted "Yes!" to himself. He didn't notice Kurt on the ground so he ran back into the Cornucopia.

Kurt saw that Sebastian had grabbed the sword and was waving it around as he collected two bags from nearby. His face bright and his eyes flashing dangerously, he struck the girl from Six with the sword and she spat blood onto the grass in front of her, clutching her stomach as she fell to her knees, coughing. Sebastian laughed, making Kurt feel a wave of hatred towards this boy as he jogged away, not even bothering to watch as the girl, whose name Kurt never knew, fell forwards dead. Another cannon sounded, the noise vibrating in Kurt's ears as though they were being set off next to him on the ground.

It was too dangerous to sit here and watch the carnage. He had to move. Kurt scrabbled up, almost falling over his own feet as he shakily took the dagger and bag from the now dead boy from Ten and made a run for the forest, not daring to look back. He could hear screams, bodies falling to the ground and the chilling sounds of laughter.

Boom, boom, boom. More tributes had fallen.

He ran hard, his heart thumping in his throat, and his legs aching. He couldn't stop, wouldn't stop, until he was far enough away. If he was lucky he could get a few miles on the Career Tributes before they set off to find him.

After running non stop for thirty minutes, he slowed down, his face creasing worryingly as he held the bag tightly to his chest. He turned on the spot, taking in his surroundings. The trees were thick here, so Kurt guessed he was deep in the wood. He noticed a large rock, bigger than him, up ahead and jogged over to it. He ducked behind it, falling onto the ground with a thud, trying to catch his breath. If anyone was coming his way they wouldn't spot him unless they were in front of him looking back.

Kurt wet his lips, looking around, wondering if the cameras were on him. He wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his arm. Was Blaine watching? What did he think about what had happened at the Cornucopia? If Kurt had got to the bag first would he have a knife in the back of his neck?

Kurt absently rubbed his neck, breathing deeply out of his nose as he shook his mind free of such horrible thoughts. The dagger had a clip attached to it so Kurt slid it onto his belt. He opened the bag that had almost cost him his life and tipped the contents onto the ground.

A piece of string

An empty plastic water bottle

A bottle of iodine

Three peaches

A sleeping bag

A box of matches

He blinked back tears as he held the peaches, remembering Blaine on the train to the Capitol. It was their first conversation with each other since they were kids and what did they talk about? Fruit. Maybe when Blaine had asked, "What are you eating?" he should have replied with, "It's a peach. But enough about that, I've been in love with you for a year".

Kurt felt almost foolish, trying to hold back tears over time lost and words not spoken when he was literally running for his life. He had to get Blaine out of his head. He couldn't think about him, it would only distract him and he definitely couldn't be distracted in the arena. There were twenty-four tributes – one of them was sure to catch up with him at some point.

And thinking about Blaine only hurt. It hurt that after their mother's died their paths didn't cross again. Sure they went to the same school, but their grief and their voluntary isolation from everyone kept them apart. Kurt really could have used a friend like Blaine during that first year, but they had only spoken for a short time, how was he to know that this boy would be everything to him later in life?

It hurt even more when Kurt fell in love with him during the Games and had to sit in agony as he watched this sweet wonderful boy fight for his life until it was only him and Karofsky left. When that happened Kurt was sure that Blaine didn't stand a chance, that he was going to die before he could even speak to him again.

And when Blaine won, Kurt sobbed. His dad assumed he was happy for the District win, but really Kurt was just so relieved and overwhelmed that Blaine would be coming home. But he still didn't speak to him. He tried to at school but every time he plucked up the courage Blaine was either being teased by the older kids or no where to be found.

By the time Blaine went on the Victory Tour, Kurt had completely lost his bottle. He never dreamed that a boy like Blaine would ever be interested in someone like him and the fact that he was and they discovered it too late was almost suffocating him.

Kurt took a deep breath, refilling the bag, scowling at the empty bottle as he put it away. Putting the bag on his back, Kurt looked around for any sign of where water might be. There were just trees in every direction. He decided his best course of action was to keep walking.

He walked, his ears straining to hear over the crunching of the leaves under his feet for any sign of life, wincing when he stepped on twigs when they snapped loudly. He blushed when he gasped, looking wildly around when he heard a noise, only for a Mockingjay to fly past him. He laughed nervously and kept walking downhill.

He was walking for an hour before he saw it. A rabbit hopping across his path and into a clearing where he could hear the gentle humming sounds of the Mockingjays. Kurt trod carefully, hoping to avoid scaring the rabbit into hiding. As luck would have it, and Kurt was due some luck about now, he found the rabbit sitting on a moss covered rock, drinking from a thin stream.

He fell to his knees, scaring the rabbit away, as he hastily filled his water bottle, adding a drop of iodine to it before putting both containers back in his bag. While the water purified, Kurt went to find refuge for the night. He had no way of keeping himself secure in the trees without the risk of falling out, so he would need to sleep on the ground for now.

The stream ran along the top of a slope, which Kurt followed down, being careful not to fall at the angle of the bank. He had only walked for a few minutes when he came across a group of four trees that had grown close together, resulting in a square of ground in the middle of them, perfect for hiding in. He unpacked his sleeping bag, climbing inside until only his head was visible. The weather was cooling so he was glad that the sleeping bag was so warm, and the fact that it was black meant it kept him hidden in the darkening sky.

He snuggled down, using his bag as a pillow. Kurt looked up at the sky as he heard the anthem begin. The Capitol's seal appeared in the sky as the anthem ended and the sky was clear for a moment before the faces of the dead appeared. Kurt counted them as nine faces appeared in the sky: the girl from Three, the girl from Four, both tributes from Six, both tributes from Nine (Kurt thinks the boy is called Matt Rutherford but he can't be sure as they had never spoken), Brittany from Ten (Kurt shuddered), the boy from Ten and the girl from Twelve.

Of course Sebastian and the other Careers are still alive. Kurt wondered if they were looking for him, or had gone after one of the others first. He couldn't think about that now. He carefully took out his water bottle, drinking half of the contents. After he put it away he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, mumbling, "Goodnight, Blaine," before he drifted off.

On the eighth floor of the Training Centre, Blaine Anderson caressed his fingers down the television screen and whispered, "Goodnight, Kurt," as he wiped his eyes and smiled tenderly at the image on the screen.