The Hunger Games

By: Tracy Cook

Disclaimer: I own nothing. These characters belong to the creators of Vampire Diaries.

Couple: Bonnie/Damon

Rating: M

Chapter Four

Training : Day One

'I Believe There Is A Way.

I Believe That It's Not Too Late.'

-Day One - 10:00 a.m.

"In two weeks, twenty-three of you will be dead." The woman spoke in a serious tone of voice. She was very intimidating. "And maybe, one of you will be alive." They never knew now that they were adding in twenty-four new tributes. All of the people standing before her could lose the games.

'I will be alive.' Damon thought to himself confidently as he listened to the woman.

She started to pace in front of them, "Who that is depends on how well you pay attention over the next four days, particularly to what I am about to say." She paused to clear her throat. "First, no fighting with the other tributes. You will have plenty of time for that once you reach the arena. My advice during training is, don't forget the survival skills. Everyone wants to grab a weapon and start showing off their skills, but most of you will actually die from natural causes."

Damon wasn't thinking about survival skills. As far as he was concerned, as long as he could hunt for food and find water, he would be fine. His main focus was killing off as many people as possible right away.

His eyes were focused on the gauntlet. Everyone who was anyone knew about the obstacle course. It was the way to prove yourself worthy. Everyone back home bragged about how fast they would be able to do it, and he wanted so desperately to prove he could hit the thirty second mark. That was the goal he had set for himself. He didn't care about survival skills or practicing his weaponry, he had done that all his life. This was all that mattered to him.

"10 percent of you will die from infection. 20 percent from dehydration. And many more from starvation and weather conditions."

She had warned them. That was all that she could do. She still knew that people would ignore her advice. "Alright everyone, get to training!"

Damon immediately started to head toward the gauntlet. He wanted to be the first one there. Caroline was close on his heels. Just as he was about to stand in front of the obstacle course and announce that he wanted to start, another young man swept in front of him and smiled at the expert. His dark hair was disheveled and he had a playful glint in his dark eyes. The patch on his training uniform said 'District 4.'

He groaned out in annoyance and took a few steps away from the gauntlet, waiting his turn. He had never been the most patient man.

"Who's that?" He spat.

"His name is Enzo, he's from District 4." Caroline told him, as she watched the man closely. She was already thinking big picture. "I hear he's pretty good. He might be a good ally."

Damon scoffed when he heard that his partner wanted to ally with the other man. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Barbie." He crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head to the side. "Let's just see how he does."

Bonnie found herself watching Damon from across the room. She didn't know why she was so fascinated with him. She just always seemed to be drawn to him. Currently, she was intrigued by just how different he looked without the gaudy pink outfit on and his hair slicked back. He was wearing a simple black training outfit and his medium length hair was wild and unruly. Somehow he managed to look even more attractive than before.

'Of course he would go straight to the gauntlet...' She thought to herself.

People in District 1 trained for the hunger games all their lives. They didn't feel like they needed any more training. They just wanted to prove that they were the best in order to make allies and intimidate the weaker districts.

'Still, he looks good in that training suit. Gah! Stop thinking these things! It doesn't matter how good he looks!'

"Checking out your boyfriend?" Marcel teased, resting his chin against Bonnie's shoulder.

"He's not my boyfriend." She sounded repulsed by the idea. Damon had come up to her at the party the night prior and asked her to take him back to her bedroom. It was obvious that he didn't want a girlfriend. He just wanted sex.

"Come on." Bonnie said, reaching out and pulling on Marcel's arm. "Let's start with something we are good at."

Damon smirked as he watched Bonnie and her partner walk away from the gauntlet. He had noticed the way that she was looking at him and it had given him hope that he hadn't completely screwed up his chances with her. "Did you see that?"

Caroline looked over at him, "What?"

"Bon-Bon was totally checking out the goods." He waggled his brow suggestively and Caroline let out a gag. She didn't understand how any girls could be interested in such an asshole. But, he really did get all the ladies somehow.

"Yeah, I bet she was." The blonde responded sarcastically, turning her attention back to the gauntlet and the District 4 tribute.

Enzo turned to face the two onlookers and he smirked cockily at them, "Let me show you how it's done." His accent was deep and thick.

Damon rolled his eyes. He wasn't impressed by him.

"On your mark, get set, go!" The expert shouted, clicking the button to start the clock.

The second Enzo heard the word 'go,' he launched himself over the first hurdle and he started to jump across the hurdles as fast as he could. His muscles were tense and every single part of his body was in pain, but it didn't show on his face. He knew how to hide his pain. People were trying to hit him with padded clubs, but he easily dodged each of them, landing gracefully on the ground at the end of the obstacle course.

He looked up at the clock hanging overhead and his smirk widened when he read the number. He had completed the course in thirty-three seconds.

That was an exceptional time.

Enzo wiped the sweat from his brow and he ran his hand through his hair as he walked back toward the two tributes from District 1. In his mind, he was superior to them. They were pampered and he was a soldier. He was wealthy, but he still did hard work.

"Not bad for a first time, eh?" He asked, staring directly into Damon's blue eyes.

"Outta my way." Damon pushed past him and walked up to the starting line of the gauntlet. He had faith in himself. He knew that he could easily beat thirty-three seconds. His goal was thirty. He readied himself, clenching his jaw tightly and waiting for the expert to tell him to go.

"On your mark, get set, go!"

Mustering all of his strength, he threw his body toward the first hurdle, twisting his body to dodge one of the clubs swinging at him. He pushed himself off of the hurdle and skillfully jumped to the next. All of his muscles were tense and the veins were popping out in his neck, but he didn't care, he was going to beat Enzo's time. Pain was only temporary, honor was forever. Finally, he landed on the ground at the end of the gauntlet and he smiled confidently when he heard Caroline cheering for him.

Glancing up, he read the number on the clock. Thirty-one seconds. He hadn't reached his ultimate goal, but he had beaten Enzo and right now that was all that mattered. He could try again and hit thirty.

Damon approached the British man with a playful grin, "What did ya think of that?"

"I think." Enzo stretched. "We should consider teaming up and taking out the weaker competitors."

There was a devious glint in his brown eyes that told Damon he was prepared to kill whoever he had to in the games. It told him that he would be a strong ally and a dangerous enemy. He wanted him on his side. "I could always use a good murder buddy." He said with a raise of his brows.

"Good. Now, pardon me as I beat your time."

'I Won't Be "Anyone," Without A Face,

A Pawn In A Crazy Game.'

He gripped the sickle firmly in his hand and stared down at it with curious brown eyes. He had used the tool multiple times in the field for harvesting wheat in District 11, but he had never thought about it as a weapon until that moment. He supposed that it would be a very effective weapon. The blade was sharp enough to cut through flesh. He had seen it happen once when a friend of his slacked off in the field and the peacekeeper hit him with it.

"I never woulda thought to use this as a weapon." Marcel admitted with a smile at the expert standing in front of him.

"You must be from District 11." The man said. He looked down at the tribute's shirt, judgmentally reading the district number embroidered in it. People from District 11 constantly reached his station and were shocked that they used the sickle for anything besides harvesting grain. They were so simple. They only thought about work.

Marcel's body tensed and he clenched his jaw tightly. He hated the way that everyone had been judging Bonnie and him since they arrived in the Capitol. He just wanted to prove them wrong. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Oh, nothing." He said condescendingly.

'Yeah right.'

"You can actually use this weapon in a few ways." The expert said, holding up a sickle of his own. "But, the most effective, is similar to how you would harvest grain." He was speaking slower and trying to dumb down what he was saying so that Marcel could understand him. He was treating him like a child and it was extremely irritating. "Do you understand?"

He sucked on his cheeks and nodded his head, "I think I got it."

"Here, let me show you."

Marcel examined the expert closely as he approached one of the training dummies. He lifted the sickle and then he lowered it, pressing the tip into the dummy's throat. "You want to cut directly into the throat, like this." Pulling the sickle away from the dummy he started to explain the second most common method for using the weapon. "The other technique is to sever the head, though I wouldn't recommend it for someone less experienced like yourself."

"Show me."

He moved behind the dummy and he placed the curve of the blade to the throat. "It will take all of your strength and agility to sever the head entirely." He lowered the blade and moved out of the training station. "Like I said, you probably should just stick to the simpler method."

"Wanna give it a try?" The expert asked.

"I'd love to."

Marcel moved to the center of the training station. He took a second to observe all of the dummies around him. People from District 11 had great observational skills. He was trying to figure out the smartest and fastest strategy to take out all of the "enemies."

"Any time, kid! Other people are waiting!"

He moved quickly toward the first dummy and he thrust the sickle deep into it's throat. The puncture wound would undoubtedly kill anyone. Then he flipped to the second dummy and as he came down from the flip he sunk the sickle into it's throat. Kicking himself off of the dummy he did a back flip and wound up landing behind the last dummy. There he managed to sever it's head clean off.

What people from other districts and the Capitol seemed to constantly forget was how agile and skilled at flipping and climbing people from District 11 were.

It was more of a defensive skill, but it could be deadly when mixed with offensive attacks.

The expert was standing there with a baffled look on his face. He couldn't believe what he had just witnessed.

"Here ya go." Marcel said, handing him the sickle back.

A few of the people waiting in line were watching him and noticing his skill. He knew that he probably should have dialed it back so that they wouldn't know it was his strength, but he had wanted so badly to make the expert eat his words.

He knew exactly where Bonnie would be. She loved throwing knives as a hobby back home and he knew for a fact that she was pretty good at it. That had to be what she was best at. As suspected, Marcel spotted Bonnie standing in the center of the knife throwing training station. She was holding up one of the knives and aiming it at a stationary target.

'It's just like back home...' She thought to herself, taking in a calming breath and releasing it. She had spent hours practicing throwing knives at trees back home for no reason in particular. It was just fun.

Bonnie threw the knife with lightning speed, watching it hit the target. It didn't hit the center, but it was close.

"Good job!" The expert hollered from the sideline. "Next we have the moving targets!"

A new set of targets popped up and they started to move from side to side. This was the ultimate test. In the arena it was going to be uncommon to find someone who was standing still waiting to be killed, they would be moving. Bonnie furrowed her brow in concentration and she focused on each of the moving targets. Studying the time it took for them to move back and forth. After a few seconds, she started to throw the knives. She hit each target, one after the other, close to the bull's-eye.

"That was amazing! I didn't expect you to be so good at that!"

"Don't count her out!" Marcel shouted from the sidelines.

Hearing him say the same words her little sister always said made Bonnie smile. She was starting to feel a bit more confident about the games. She was starting to think she might have a chance to win.

'I Don't Need Your Thoughts, I Still Follow Mine,

And If I Fall, It Will Be My Fault.'

"They are still at the gauntlet?" Bonnie couldn't believe it. The training day was almost over and Damon, his partner, and the impolite jerk who ran into her, were all still competing in the obstacle course. She knew that they didn't really care to train, but she had figured they would have spent some time working on their survival skills.

"They're too good to spend their time training."

He didn't mind.

If they spent all of their time at the gauntlet and they didn't practice any survival skills then it would be easier to defeat them in the arena. These people were pampered. They didn't know how to start a fire. They didn't know which foods were edible and which foods were poisonous. Odds were, they would kill themselves off.

Someone else was stepping up to the obstacle course.

She had her blonde hair pulled back into a braid and she was wearing a blue training suit. Bonnie squinted her green eyes and attempted to read the number embroidered on her outfit. She wasn't sure, but she thought that it read 'District 10.' The girl was brave to take on the gauntlet in front of all of the "better" districts.

'I really hope she beats them...'

Damon and his friends were all laughing at the blonde and telling her that she was going to fail. It was disgusting and it only reminded Bonnie why she could not be attracted to the man. He was a terrible person. He didn't care about the well-being of others. He wasn't trying to save her at the party, he was just trying to steal her sponsor.

"This ought to be entertaining!" The British man shouted at her. "Let's see what you got, Rancher!"

When Damon laughed at the District 4 tribute's joke it caused her stomach to twist in knots. It made her hate him. He was making fun of a girl who raised and took care of the animals that fed him and his friends. Essentially, he was making fun of Bonnie who had a very similar job. Only with even less reward. He was no longer charming in the slightest.

The District 10 tribute readied herself for the course.

She was visibly shaking and the comments they were screaming at her were only making her more nervous.

"On your mark, get set, go!"

She hastily pushed herself over the first hurdle and she started to jump from one to the next. She was moving at a decent speed and as Bonnie watched the clock count down she was just praying that she beat Damon's record. She wanted to show him that it didn't matter what district you came from, everyone was capable. When the blonde jumped toward the next hurdle, one of the people came out and smacked her in the knee with a padded club.

She lost her balance.

Reaching out, she tried to catch herself on the next hurdle, but her hands slipped and she fell face forward into the concrete smashing her nose. She screamed out in pain and stumbled to her feet, blood was pouring all over the place and the medics were rushing to her side.

Did Damon run to help her?

Did Damon look sorry for her?

No.

He and all of his friends were laughing at the poor girl. Even the expert who was standing at the station started laughing.

Seeing them laughing at the young woman's misfortune lit a fire inside of Bonnie that she hadn't felt for a long time. She felt this need to prove herself. She felt this need to prove to them that they were not the best. That others could beat them. That she could beat them.

"I think I can do it."

"Bonnie..." Marcel wanted to have faith in her, but he didn't want to see her get hurt

"What? It's pretty much the same thing as jumping from the tree tops, only less dangerous." Bonnie made it sound so logical. She always made things sound logical when she was stubborn about doing them. "Trust me, I know I can beat their times."

He sighed and smiled at her. He knew that there was no talking her out of it.

Bonnie Bennett was one of the most stubborn women he knew.

'I can do this.' She thought to herself as she started toward the gauntlet. Her hands were shaking and her heart was racing in her chest, but she was trying her hardest to calm herself down. She was fast and she had climbing skills. She could beat their times.

Stepping up to the front of the gauntlet, she held her chin up confidently and she shot a glare in Damon's direction. This instantly silenced his laughter. He knew that he had upset her by poking fun at the District 10 girl. 'Well shit, there goes all my chances with her.'

"I want to do it!" Bonnie announced.

"What is with all these bloody farmers thinking themselves capable of the gauntlet?" The British man called out to her, trying to rattle her. It wasn't going to work though. She was determined and she was proud of where she came from. She had worked her whole life and she had kept her family alive to the best of her ability, all the while remaining a decent human being. Why should she be ashamed of that?

Damon didn't laugh this time. He didn't like that Enzo was making fun of Bonnie. He didn't understand why it bothered him so much. They had just done the exact same to another girl from a richer district than District 11.

'I hope she doesn't slip and fall...'

Bonnie examined each of the hurdles as she waited for the expert to tell her to start. She was estimating just how high she would have to jump to clear them. She kicked her shoes off. She knew that she would do better if she did it the same way she did back home.

"On your mark, get set, go!"

She lunged toward the first hurdle quickly. Curling her toes against the edge, she used the strength of her legs to launch herself up into the air and over one of the hurdles, landing on the next one in line. The people with the clubs were confused about what to do because she was flying over their heads and they couldn't hit her. Damon's blue eyes widened as he watched her curl her toes against the hurdle and flip over the last hurdle landing on the ground in front of the course. He hadn't expected her to be so agile.

It was actually very impressive.

He was starting to reevaluate his plan. Maybe it would be better to have Bonnie as an ally than to kill her off right away.

Bonnie was terrified to look up at the time. She would be devastated if she hadn't beaten their scores. But, finally she cast her green eyes up at the clock and she read the number. She had completed the course in twenty-seven seconds.

Her full lips twisted up into a proud smirk and she glanced over at Damon. His mouth was hanging open and he was staring at her. He couldn't believe that she had just demolished his goal time easily. She was becoming even more beautiful and unique every single day and he knew that he needed to get to know her better. He wanted to get to know her better.

Lifting his hands he started to clap for her.

It wasn't often that Damon admitted defeat, so it meant a lot that he was clapping.

"Well, would you look at that." The British man grinned. "I believe farming has been wildly misconstrued."

'Too Many Wolves In Lambs' Clothing,

Ready To Conquer And Rule.'

Author's Note :

Hey there everyone! I want to thank everyone for your support and for reading this fic! It means everything to me! It really does! I'm kind of worried that people are losing interest in this fic or I did something wrong, because I didn't really get much feedback for the last chapter... I hope that y'all are still interested in reading this! I'm sorry if the pace is moving too slow... The next chapter will be mostly ALL Bamon goodness! I promise! Lots of apologies and making up and bantering like married people!

I hope that y'all enjoyed this chapter! :)) I would love to hear your thoughts! How do you feel about Damon? What about Enzo and Denzo?! How are y'all feeling about Marcel and Bonnie's chances to win the games? Happy that she showed the boys up!? :)) Excited to see Damon try and make up for being such a jerk?

Thank you so much for reading this! I love you guys!

-Tracy Cook-