The mood in District 8 was grimly triumphant.
Will watched the kids in the school, who were all energized by the fact that not only had Finn and Kurt survived another night, but they'd taken on the Career pack and won. True, they'd lost their ally and that was terrible. But then, that was one more tribute down, and one more step closer to one of them winning. And if Finn or Kurt won the Hunger Games, it meant a better life for everyone for the next year. Usually, District 8 tributes didn't make it much past the first day. And usually they didn't get gifts like pain medicine.
It didn't make watching any easier, though, Will thought as the school turned the televisions on for the lunch hour. In fact, Will had a feeling that all this hope was going to make the fall worse in a few days. He kept his mouth shut about that, though.
It was a slow day on the Games, and as a result the station kept replaying the attack. There was something off about the constant replays and no interviews- Will had sat through enough Games to sense the different rhythm. It dawned on him around lunch time, as the teachers watched in the cafeteria with the students.
"They haven't interviewed the mentor for District 10," he said to Mercedes, who was watching next to him. "Don't they usually do that by now?"
"Yeah. What's up with that?" Mercedes looked extremely perplexed.
They found out right before the lunch hour ended, when Caesar Flickerman came on. "It's a sad day here in the Capitol," he informed them, "and a sad day for the residents of District 10. Tragedy almost struck today when the Gamemaker Hamish Quently was attacked by a fan who was most disappointed in the outcome of the opening day. Fortunately for Hamish, District 10 victor Wes Graven was standing nearby and gave his own life to protect him."
"It was terrible," Hamish Quently said into the microphone shoved in his face. "He just came right at me, something about how much money he'd lost."
Caesar winced sympathetically. "Let's let this serve as a reminder to all our citizens to only bet what you can handle. And thank you to District 10 for the sacrifice that saved one of our citizens." He abruptly veered off to another topic, leaving Will and Mercedes staring at the television.
"Mr. Schuester?" Mercedes said. "Does it seem a little strange to you that the District 10 victor died right after his tribute did?"
"Yeah," Will said slowly. "It does. And that they're not giving it more coverage."
"You don't think the Capitol killed him, do you?"
Will made a motion for Mercedes to keep her voice down. "I don't think so," he said in a low voice, and he meant it. "If the Capitol killed the mentor of every tribute that died, they'd run out of mentors really quickly."
Mercedes frowned. "Something's still not right. It's just too close in timing."
"It's the Capitol," Will sighed. "When is it ever right?"
"I've been thinking, Mr. Schuester," Mercedes said, moving in closer. "I've been thinking about what Mr. Hummel and Mrs. Hudson want to do. And the more I think about it, the more I think they're right. We can't just sit here and watch. We've got to do something."
"It's not that simple, Mercedes," Will said, looking around nervously to make sure no one was listening to them. "And we're only one District."
"Yeah, but it's got to start somewhere, right? And Mr. Schue, they're going to kill Kurt and Finn. I can't just sit here and do nothing. And what about you? You care about what's happening. I know it."
"I care, but-"
"But what, Mr. Schue?" Mercedes asked, crossing her arms and glaring at him. "You've had to watch so many of your students die. You're saying you wouldn't stick it to the Capitol if you could? They probably won't win, but maybe they'll start something that could win. Someday."
Will rubbed his forehead, thinking not only about Kurt and Finn, but Celia and Emily and Molly and Seva and Trinh and Rom and… and the list just kept getting longer. And if he sat here, doing nothing, he'd watch the list grow each year, without ever speaking up to stop it.
"I don't know, Mercedes," he said. "Le me think about it, okay?"
Mercedes nodded. "Okay. I've got to get to class anyway. See you later, Mr. Schue." She slid off the table and scooped up her book and left the cafeteria for the classroom where she'd probably be turned in to another mill worker. Mercedes, with her beautiful voice and her dreams of something more, was just as doomed in her way as Finn and Kurt were in theirs.
It was foolish, Will knew that. Foolish and dangerous and a bad idea all around. But Mercedes had a point. How much longer could he let the list of murdered children grow and poison his own soul? He looked around the school, at all those kids, any of whom might be the ones in the arena next year.
Mercedes was right. Puck and Santana were right. Burt and Carole were right. This had to stop.
***
Kurt and Finn walked for half a day, deeper into the forest. Finally, they reached an area that they decided would work. It was on a small hill, so they had the higher ground if anyone found them. One of the poison streams ran nearby, like a little moat to their fortress. The trees in this area were as beautiful as the rest of the arena, but were also weeping willows. Huge trees, with long hanging branches.
"As long as they don't come alive and eat us," Finn said, dropping his pack. "I don't care where we are, I've got to eat."
"We both should," Kurt agreed. Aside from the crackers they'd eaten when they'd taken their medicine, neither of them had stopped for food at all. He dug into his pack and pulled out two of the little metal canisters. The one was potato soup and the other was stew. He tossed Finn the stew and opened the soup for himself and took one of the oranges as well.
"This would be a good spot to hole up for a while," Finn said, looking around as he ate. "We could do something with the trees and stuff, and, I don't know- just hide for a bit."
"It won't last long," Kurt said, but the idea of just resting for a bit appealed to him. And Finn looked so pale and tired, and Kurt didn't miss the way he favored his wounded shoulder.
They spent the afternoon weaving branches into a shelter of sorts. "Advantages of being from the fabric district, right?" Finn asked Kurt with a half-grin. Kurt tried to smile back, but his face wouldn't quite work right. Fortunately, Finn took it for exhaustion. They made light conversation as they worked, talking about the different foods in the Capitol and arguing about different songs that the could have sung in glee club. The conversation was superficial, and Kurt suspected that both of them were talking just to keep their minds off where they were and what they were really doing.
It rained when they were halfway through, replenishing their water supply. Both of them stood out in the cool rain, letting the water wash the dirt and blood away. Kurt was shivering when the rain shut off, but he felt much cleaner.
They made a fire and ate their evening meal together. In a way, sitting here together and just eating felt a little like home, even if Kurt's ribs were beginning to hurt badly again, and Finn kept a morning star and staff right beside him and only picked at his dinner.
Kurt looked at the morning star with distaste. "I thought you didn't like that one," he said.
"Yeah, well, it was one thing in the training center," Finn admitted. "It's another in the arena. Although it sure does do a number on people." He touched his shoulder and grinned ruefully. Kurt tried to smile back, but his smile still just wouldn't come.
The darkness fell, and with it came cold. They extinguished their fire, which Kurt immediately regretted. A sharp wind picked up, and he was grateful they at least had the protection of the trees.
The anthem played, and above in the sky the pictures appeared. First Raze, and then Blaine. Kurt stared up at Blaine's picture until it faded from the sky, a lump in his throat.
"Two deaths," Finn said quietly, surprised. "That's kind of slow for this early in the Games, isn't it?"
Kurt shrugged. "We should set watch," he said dully. "One of us can use the sleeping bag and the other-" he tried to stifle a yawn. He was tired- tired to the bone. "What?" he snapped. Finn was watching him with concern, but he looked even worse than Kurt felt. "Get some sleep," Kurt said. "I'll watch first."
"You sure?" Finn asked doubtfully.
"I'm sure. I'm not sure if I can sleep anyway."
Finn nodded. "Yeah. I get that. Okay. But make sure you wake me up."
"I will."
Finn unrolled the sleeping bag and climbed in. Kurt watched him shift around until he got comfortable, and then drop off to sleep within seconds.
There was a little light from the moon. Kurt wondered if it really was the moon, or if it was some giant screen above them, and the Gamemakers gave them a full moon because they wanted them to be able to see. He wondered if there was a switch somewhere that they could just flip and it would be day all of a sudden. But the wind felt so real and no one had ever seen any sort of wall or anything. They'd be able to see walls, wouldn't they?
Kurt sat back, leaning against the trunk of the willow tree, fiddling with the wedding ring he still wore on his little finger. That was real for me, he heard Blaine saying again. Whatever happens tonight… that was real for me. At the time, he'd just thought Blaine meant "whatever happens" meant if he died. But now he was wondering. Was Blaine planning to break the alliance himself? To take the packs while Kurt and Finn slept and leave? Or even to kill them both in their sleep? It seemed like a terrible thing to think of the dead and Kurt didn't want to believe it, but the answer really was probably. At least the taking the packs part. After all, wasn't that what he was going to do?
He suspected that Sue's signal was coming soon. When it did, if he wanted to live, Kurt had to kill Finn, take the packs, and hide. Outlast the others and wait it out. He knew what he had to do - planning it was easy. Actually doing it, though, that was going to be hard. Kurt had absolutely no illusions about that. He looked up at the sky as if that silver parachute would fall any second, but to his relief, nothing was coming. Maybe it never would. Maybe Sue would change her mind.
Right.
Despite the demoralen, his ribs were really beginning to hurt again. His stomach was growling and his head and leg hurt, and he missed his father so much that he really just wanted to cry. Finn slept on, and Kurt couldn't look at him because then he'd want to cry even more. He took a few drinks, picked up his knife and a branch, and began to whittle it down to nothing, just for something to do. But as he held the wood, an idea started to form. He turned it over in his mind for a bit, getting excited.
Maybe there was more of a chance than he thought.
***
Warm blood gushed over his hands, and yet he didn't stop. He didn't want to stop, and Finn swung the morning star again and again. Each time, the heavy spiked ball landed in Raze's flesh with a squelching, crushing sound, and each blow only made him stronger. The taste of blood was in his mouth and yet he kept hitting, kept fighting, consumed only with the desire to kill. And when he stood over Raze's lifeless body, the only thing he could feel was a sharp, savage gladness.
Then he wasn't standing over Raze anymore, but Kurt. Kurt was struggling to get to his feet, bruised and bloody and broken, and Finn swung again and again. Kurt's blood ran down his arms, and Finn couldn't stop. Power flooded through him, and he knew he was winning.
"Finn! Finn!" Someone was shaking him, and Finn startled out of his nightmare to see Kurt, his face whole and unbloodied in the moonlight.
"What?" he asked, still muddled with sleep, his heart racing. Kurt was there. Whole. Alive. Not being beaten to a bloody pulp under his morning star. Not being beaten to a bloody pulp under Finn's hands.
"You were having a nightmare," Kurt said. "The way you were thrashing around, you were going to bring everyone down on us."
"Oh. Sorry." Finn sat up, groaned, and lay back down. His stomach was clenching and he was covered with cold sweat, and right now, with the dream fresh in his mind, he hated himself. "Do I really have to get up?"
"Not yet. It's only been a couple of hours, I think."
Finn cracked an eye open. Even in the dim moonlight, he could see the pain and exhaustion on Kurt's face. "You look terrible," he said, too tired to be anything but blunt.
Kurt shrugged, then winced as he jarred his ribs. Something about that recalled his dream, and guilt flooded him. Not because he'd had it, but because that look on Kurt's face made that dream only too easy to believe.
"You know," Finn said slowly, "if anyone ever came on us and we were both asleep, they'd just slit our throats."
"Thank you for that lovely image, Finn. I promise I'll stay awake."
"No, that's not what I mean. I mean, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad way to go. If someone finds us right now, we're both too tired to fight. We'd be toast."
"Only if it was the Careers. We'd have a shot against the others. We'll be okay, Finn. I can keep watch."
"You're freezing." Finn bit his lip, the words sticking in his mouth, and then said it. "We could both fit."
Kurt's gaze was level. "In the sleeping bag. Together."
"Yeah." Kurt hesitated. "Don't deny it, dude. You're wiped." Finn opened the sleeping bag. "Come on."
With one last dubious look, Kurt nodded stiffly and slid in. He was cautious, trying his best not to touch Finn at all. If they were home in District 8, Finn would have appreciated it. Right now, he just didn't care. He laid back down, and inevitably, his body aligned with Kurt's. Finn shifted around to get comfortable, ending up with one arm over Kurt's torso.
"This okay? Or am I on your ribs?"
"It's okay," Kurt said, his voice tight. He squirmed a little, and then finally gave up and rested his head against Finn's shoulder. "You stink," he murmured.
"Like you should talk," Finn said. He was aware that he was basically lying in bed holding Kurt, but right now all that mattered was that they were both warm. Kurt's hair tickled Finn's cheek.
"Finn?"
"Yeah?"
"Why isn't my name on your staff?" It took a second to realize what Kurt meant, and he managed a smile.
"You know how gay that sounded, right?" he teased.
"Yes. Back in District 8, Puck just fell off his seat laughing so hard," Kurt said dryly. "I meant your weapon. You've got all these names carved in, but not mine."
"Yeah. Well, it's not like the people on there are with me, you know?" Finn said. "You are. If you die, I'll put your name on there."
"I don't know why I find that so inexpressibly comforting, but I do," Kurt murmured. "Thank you, Finn." His breathing evened out, and in seconds, he was asleep.
Finn waited until he was sure that Kurt was asleep, and then leaned down a little and kissed his forehead gently. It was dark and no one would see, but that wasn't why he did it. Finn wasn't the smartest guy in Panem, but even he could see that the time was going to come when they were going to have to break this alliance. Kurt knew it, too. Finn wondered if Kurt had dreams like he'd just had, about killing him. Worse, Finn wondered if Kurt had plans to kill him. He looked at Kurt's sleeping face and shivered. Very likely. It was the Hunger Games, after all.
He thought of his mom at home, and of Burt. One of them had to get home. Finn didn't really think that it would be him and Kurt at the end in one of those big dramatic battles like the Games sometimes ended in, but Kurt was hurting. Kurt had cracked ribs and his mind had been on Blaine all day, leaving him demoralized and distracted. Finn didn't like to think it, but if he wanted a chance to get home, he might have to break the alliance himself, before Kurt slowed him down too much. But not tonight. Tonight they were still together, them against everyone else. Tonight Kurt was sleeping on his shoulder, his breathing shallow but his body relaxed as he nestled against Finn. And tonight he'd have at least one more memory of Kurt as his brother before Finn had to kill him.
***
"They're what?" Sue asked.
"Sharing a sleeping bag. Look." Julius gestured to the television screen. "Probably not a dry eye in the entire Capitol." Sue swore and got to her feet, pacing. "What?" Julius asked, watching her. "The sponsors are going to go nuts over it."
"The sponsors? You think I care about the sponsors right now?" Sue demanded. "Sponsorship can only do so much. They're getting too attached."
"They're brothers," Julius said. "That's always been the case." He studied her. "I know you're putting your backing behind Kurt, but he's not going to get too much farther without Finn. Not with those cracked ribs. If one of them is going to win, it's going to have to come down to the two of them."
Sue shook her head. "No it's not. I'm getting Kurt away now. There's no other option."
"Yes there is," Julius said. "Let them hide there and outlast the Careers. That's their best chance."
"Good lord, not only could your head be used as a bowling ball, it's also as thick as one," Sue said. "You think that's what's going to happen? Well, let me break it down for you, Shiny. Ever since they stuck it to the Careers, they've gone from 'random tributes' to the top of the grudge list. That won't stop the Careers from killing any other tribute, but they're going to be searching for the two of them. Because they've got an axe to grind. Because our boys made them look like fools. The Careers will be hunting them.
"The Gamemakers will let them have a hunt, but with Finn and Kurt hurt and holing up, you can bet that they aren't just going to let them sit there, nice and cozy. They're too popular in the Capitol and they're going to want to force that storyline. If Finn and Kurt try to sit there, they're just begging to have the Capitol unleash some horror on them to get them moving again. If that happens, they're both going to die. If they give the Capitol something in terms of breaking their alliance, the Capitol will move on to a better show and let them go for now. And maybe one of them will die, but the other one will live. And that's all that can live in the end, anyway."
"You might be right," Julius admitted.
"Of course I'm right," Sue snapped. "I'm always right. I'm getting them going."
"And how," Julius drawled, "are you going to do that?"
Sue smiled. "It's not hard at all."
***
It had been a long time since Kurt had imagined having to crawl out from under Finn Hudson's arm to get out of bed. As he did, he sourly thought that would rather still be sleeping on the two creaky beds in their shared room and bickering about who got to use the bathroom first than have had that particular dream come true. He was wondering what his father would say when the glint of silver caught his eye.
He was pretty sure that this time Sue hadn't sent him medicine.
Sure enough, when he opened the parcel attached to the parachute, there were two crackers. Crackers. Right after they had stolen quite a bit of food, two crackers were nothing. There was no questioning it. He stared at them for a long time, then closed the lid and stuffed the parcel and the parachute into his shirt. His stomach turned over and he felt sick, but this was the Hunger Games. You did what you had to do to survive.
Finn was still sleeping. Kurt took a moment to pee, and take some more of the demoralen, and then retrieved the smaller of the two water bottles from their bag. It was about three quarters full. As long as he didn't fill it fuller than that, Finn wouldn't notice a thing.
The forest was quiet as Kurt walked down to the stream. He wished he could slip into the stream and take a bath. His skin was oily and filthy, his hair was matted, and as Finn had said last night, he stunk. Kurt winced, because he didn't want to think about last night right now, especially as he came up to the stream.
He almost poured the water out when he remembered just how precious water was. He sat down and began to drink, crunching on an apple he'd brought along. The stream gurgled by his feet, crystal clear, cold and beautiful. Just looking at it made Kurt want to stick his head in and drink.
Finally, he'd finished the water and the apple, and he knelt down and very carefully filled the bottle to the right level. The water made the plastic cool to the touch, and he hoped Finn wouldn't be so observant as to notice that the bottle was cooler than it should have been. Well, he could always tell Finn that the night air had chilled it. He trudged back up to where they'd slept.
Finn was still sleeping. All he had to do now was go over, wake Finn up and hand him the bottle, and tell him to drink in his best I'm-taking-care-of-you voice. That was all.
Finn opened his eyes as Kurt approached. "Hey," he said blearily. "We're still alive."
"Always observant." Kurt knelt down. "How are you?"
Finn moved experimentally. "My shoulder still hurts," he said, closing his eyes against the pain. "But I think it's a bit better than last night." He looked up at Kurt. "Did you sleep okay?"
Four words. Four words that brought back last night in a rush. Don't think, Kurt told himself. Don't feel. Don't be pathetically grateful for one night of comfort. Just do it. But Finn was sitting there looking at him, his face earnest and actually caring and being there during the worst time of Kurt's life without so much as a thought. He hadn't even carved Kurt's name on his staff because they were together. Because Finn didn't need to hold on to Kurt on a weapon, because Finn could hold on to Kurt. Because Finn had always been Kurt's hero, even when Finn had let him down so badly. Because Finn was his brother.
"Don't drink out of this water bottle," he said, holding it up. "I filled it from the stream."
Finn stared at him like he was crazy. "Why would you that?"
"I have an idea. An idea that's going to help us win these Games." A wonderful lightness broke over him as he sat down next to Finn and pulled out the wooden darts he'd carved last night.
"What are those?" Finn said with a laugh. "Oversized toothpicks?"
"Darts. We can dip them in the poison and launch them at people. I haven't figured out the best way to do it yet, but we can- what? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"You," Finn said slowly, "are amazing."
And just like that, Kurt knew there was no way he could break this alliance himself. Not ever. He smiled at Finn, reveling in Finn's approval. "We got something else, too," he said, pulling out the parcel. Finn opened it up and studied it, confused.
"Two crackers?"
"It's not like they came with a card or anything," Kurt said, "but I'm guessing they're not from sponsors. Finn… I think they're from Dad and Carole."
Finn's eyes teared over. "You think? You really think so?"
"Or New Directions. Someone in District 8, anyway." It was a lie, but the touched gratitude on Finn's face made it worth it. "Come on," Kurt said, nudging Finn and holding up his cracker. "Cheers."
Finn took it with a smile. "Cheers."
Kurt knew that somewhere in the Capitol, Sue was probably raging at him, maybe even throwing things. But he didn't care. More than anything he knew that this was the right thing to do, the way he wanted to do it, and Kurt Hummel was going to take the one luxury still affording to him and have some say in his own life and death.
***
"We didn't send those crackers, did we?" Carole asked tentatively.
"We didn't. Maybe it was someone from the school," Burt said.
Carole kind of doubted that. There were other possibilities, but gifts in the Games cost a lot, and Carole couldn't think of anyone who would spend that amount of money on the boys. Especially given the timing. She couldn't blame Kurt for thinking that it was sentimental- that was the only logical explanation. She desperately wished it was the right one.
Burt's eyes were locked on the screen. Carole wished she could tell what he was thinking, but his face was impossible to read. She sighed and stood up. The mills didn't stop just because the Hunger Games were on, and she was already flirting with being late.
When she came out of their room, Burt had turned the television off but was still sitting on the couch, rubbing his face. "Anything more?" Carole asked.
"Nah, they cut away from them about thirty seconds after you went in the other room," Burt said. "They were showing the Careers. I can't even look at them. I know they're just kids, but all I can think is that if they kill our boys, they're gonna enjoy it. Looking at them makes me sick." He sat back against the couch. "I'm glad Finn killed that District 2 kid."
Carole made a small noise of what she hoped sounded like agreement. She had been ill- physically sick- after watching Finn kill that boy. The anger and the viciousness… that wasn't the son she knew. She was grateful he was still alive and she knew if he hadn't done it, he'd be dead right now, but that didn't mean she had to like it. She was never going to like it.
"Are you going to talk to people at work today?" Burt asked.
"Usually do," Carole said lightly, and then sighed. "Yes. I'll see what people have to say. I don't know how much support we can get for an uprising, though. It just…" she shook her head. "I don't know. People only want to risk so much."
Burt shrugged. "Then they can all let their kids go to the Hunger Games, year after year. We're doing this."
Carole nodded. "All right. Be careful out there today, okay?"
"You too." Burt leaned in and kissed her. It was a brief kiss, an echo of how he'd kissed her before. Carole wished she cared. She smiled at him and cupped his cheek, and then they parted without another word.
***
The whispers whipped around District 8 like dried leaves dancing on the wind.
Uprising, rebellion, fight back.
The mills hummed, spewing out cotton dust and covering the rumors.
But what about reprisals? What if we don't win? The Dark Days, District 13….
People retreated into their tenements and hovels, looked down and pretended they couldn't hear. A few slipped out, encouraged and emboldened, desperate.
The Capitol had murdered ninety-seven children from District 8, and was about to add two more. It wasn't that these murders were any more horrible or any more important than the ninety-seven that had preceded them; it was simply that they lit a spark that was ready to be released into the dry tinder that was District 8.
Uprising. Rebellion. Fight back.