And in this moment of silence,

When they got of the carriage, Cinna, Portia and Bobby were waiting for them.

"Good job," Portia smiled, taking the pick-axes back.

"Yes, very bloody, exactly what the capitol loves." The chubby boy from 8 walked towards them. He was wearing a toga with a crown of cotton. "My name is Crowley King. I'm from district 8."

He had a weird accent Dean didn't recognize.

He shook Crowley's hand. "Dean Winchester. 12."

Crowley smiled: "Ah- wasn't that a rifle manufacturer? They produced rifles and shotguns, back when this was called the USA."

"Yeah-." Dean nodded. "How do you know?"

Crowley just kept smiling. He walked back to his Mentor, stylists and other tribute.

Behind them was the carriage of 7. The boy and the girl, Castiel and Anna, if Dean remembered correctly, were talking to their stylists.

He caught Castiels absent gaze.

Dean tried to smile reassuring, but it was if the boy was paralyzed, just like at the Reaping.

He did sort of react to Dean, Castiel waved. The awkward kind of wave, where you just raise your hand and move your fingers.

"Come on!" Effie walked towards them. "Let's go to our rooms, wash up and get some rest, we're training very early tomorrow morning!"

"We're?" Jo smiled, when they followed Effie to the elevators, waving their stylists goodbye. "Are you joining us?"

Later that evening, in Jo's room, she made a comment about his eye contact moment with Castiel.

"I don't know," Dean shrugged. "I was looking at him and he happened to look back. Coincidence."

Jo nodded: "That I understand, but we have to be careful with making friends. We need to select carefully."

Dean nodded. "I'm sorry. I won't interact with any other human beings than you, is that better?"

Jo laughed out loud. "Good, that's better. Now, for more important matters, would you like some food?"

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Food?"

"Yeah-" Jo shrugged, "I got really my-time-of-the-month this afternoon and well, I ordered some chicken wings and brownies over the intercom that talks back."

"You can order food over that thing?" Dean asked. He was impressed.

Jo laughed and pulled the remaining brownies out from under her bed and gave one to Dean. "Yes, what do you do with it?"

"I told it to shut up." Dean ate his brownie and returned to his room.

The next morning, Bobby woke him up with three loud bangs on the door. "Rise and shine boy!"

They had breakfast and when Dean returned to get dressed, there were clothes waiting for him on his bed. Someone had also tidied up the empty plates from last night. To check if the intercom thing really worked, Dean had ordered pie.

Dean got dressed quickly, the Capitol had given him cotton, black trousers, a t-shirt and a sweater. All the same material, all black and it all had the number '12' printed on it.

He joined Bobby and Jo in the elevator. Bobby waited until the doors had closed.

"Okay," He said. "Don't show 'em your strength."

Dean laughed: "That shouldn't be too hard."

Jo just nodded.

"I advise you not to skip the survival skills, you'll never know what kind of climate you're going to be up against and a lot of those idjits die because they refused to learn how to make a proper fire or set a proper trap. Good luck." He slapped them on the shoulders and they stumbled out of the elevator into the training hall.

They joined the small group of Tributes that were already there.

Everyone just sort of ignored each other, except for Crowley and the boy from 5, who had apparently found each other and were going by all the other Tributes, introducing themselves.

"Hello Dean," Crowley smiled. He pointed to his new friend. "This is Gabriel."

Gabriel was a small boy with a cheeky smile plastered to his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but a harsh, female voice cut him off.

"12, 8 and 5! Could I have your attention please?"

Crowley and Gabriel turned around.

"In less than a month, all of you but one, will be death. The lucky survivor is the one who paid most attention this week. There are five obligatory trainings: basic self-defence, basic survival skills, basic weapon training, skinning and preparing an animal and first aid."

They trained hard. Dean found out he was handy with setting traps and his strength gave him a head start in self-defence. His aiming skills, whether it was archery or spear throwing, were rubbish. He focused on getting better with a dagger, because it was most likely he could get him hands on one in the Arena.

Jo revealed to him that she hunted back in 12 (Dean already knew that), but she also told him her weapon of choice, a slingshot. She taught him how to make one, with two long, soft strokes of leather and one really hard patch, that you had to knead in shape. She sewed them together with a small thread and needle.

During lunch, the boy and girl from 7 joined them, carrying trays with soup, pasta and bread. It was almost inevitable the districts mixed, since there were 12 districts and seven tables.

Anna shook Dean's hand: "I'm Anna Milton."

Dean nodded and put his fork down. "Dean Winchester."

They already knew the names of the other Tributes, they had all seen the Reapings, but introduced themselves anyway. It felt more normal that way.

Dean knew Jo didn't approve, but he had no choice. He didn't want to be rude, not to these two.

Anna and Castiel sat down.

"Did your friend lose him tongue?" Jo asked.

"No, I didn't." Castiel said. This was the first time Dean heard him speak, really. He had a surprisingly low voice. "I elect to remain silent in most cases."

"Okay," Dean shrugged. He pointed to Castiels piece of bread, "Are you?"

He shook his head and Dean grabbed the slice.

"Why would you be silent all the time?" Jo asked.

Castiel just shrugged. "I can observe things better when I'm silent."

"Observe?" Jo laughed mockingly, "Okay Sherlock, take a shot."

"Only if you promise not to shoot back at me with that slingshot of yours." Castiel smiled.

Jo nodded: "Okay. I'm sorry. I thought I kept that silent."

"But I saw it."

"Just get it out of your head Dean! We're not teaming up with 7!"

"I don't see why not." Dean said calm. He was lying on Jo's bed, staring at the whiteboard. Jo was pacing up and down the room like a caged tiger. "Cas is smart and Anna is a babe!"

Jo snorted: "Go to Hell."

"Not yet," Dean grinned, "Be reasonable Jo, we could use two extra hands."

Jo shook her head. "Dean, I can't fight along two people and kill them a couple of days later. I can't."

"O, but you're okay with doing that with me? You can have my back one day and stab a knife in it the next, but not with two complete strangers?" Dean said offended.

"God damned Dean! Of course not. But I already know you. I can't just forget about our friendship. About the dead rat in Mrs Fletchers bag, the time I took you out in the meadow. We have been friends for most of our childhood." Jo sat down next to him. Her head in her hands. She groaned frustrated.

Dean just nodded. She was right, they had been friends until Jo's father had died. She didn't have a lot of time for him after that. He cupped his hands behind him head and smiled.

"What's so funny?" Jo asked, angry.

"I used to have a huge crush on you when I was eight or something. I tried to make a move a few times, but you kept me neatly into the friend zone."

Jo laughed: "Did you? I never noticed!"

"Our dads did, they were joking about it all the time." Dean got up. "I'm going to bed."

The week went by quicker than Dean wanted. They trained during the day, had lunch with 7 and chatted in Jo's room until late. Dean was good with a blade, he was fast and agile, but also strong.

At the end of the week, at breakfast, Bobby announced that they would be training alone with their Mentor all day long, and that there would be a private training session that very afternoon to get their scores from the Gamemakers.

After a quick discussion they decided it would be more efficient to train together, so Bobby could both train them for the interview and for the Games.

"Dean, hands up to your face!" Bobby wanted to start with boxing and had set up a ring.

Dean cashed one punch in the face and another one in the stomach from Jo.

"I don't like this sport!" Dean groaned. He tried to punch Jo back, but she was too quick. "I swear to God!" he pulled his gloves off and jumped on top of Jo, pinning her to the ground. "We won't have these bloody gloves in the Arena, will we?"

"Okay, enough with the boxing for today!" Bobby threw them two towels. "Jo, go practise with your slingshot and Dean, go take a shower, I think we're done for today. Wait upstairs so we can start media training."

Dean went upstairs and took a shower, changing into a fresh set of those bloody cotton clothes he had been wearing all damn week. He missed his jeans.

Bobby was waiting for him in the living room of their apartment.

"Dean," he started. "I need you to be sexy."

Dean started laughing. "Excuse me?"

"Well, it's completely reasonable. I talked about it with Jo, she thinks it's a smart move too. If you flirt with everyone, everyone will love you,"

"They'll think I'm a slut." Dean shook his head.

"Yeah-" Bobby shrugged. "In 12. But not in the Capitol. In the Capitol they will love you and send you money. They'll sponsor you, and you'll need sponsors."

Dean nodded. "Sexy. Okay." He chuckled. "I'm sorry Bobby. I just can't…"

"Well you have a handsome little face," Bobby said. "Imagine what my media profile was."

"Gruesome?" Dean smiled.

"No, I was funny."

Dean laughed: "You are!"

Bobby shook his head. "I was extremely nervous, but I got a few jokes out. Nobody got them because they were jokes from the Seam."

They practised for a while and when Jo joined them (she had been practising with Effie) they went down, to the training hall.

They waited with the other Tributes, in a small room with a couple of benches.

Everyone got called away slowly, until only Dean and Jo were left.

"What are you going to do?" Jo asked.

"I don't know," Dean shrugged. "Maybe I can show my skills with the dagger. I know I'm good with a gun too, but they won't get me any in the Arena."

"Don't throw." Jo nodded, "Don't."

"Dean Winchester. District 12." The intercom called.

"Here goes nothing." Dean walked to the training hall.

Seneca Crane was standing in the Gamemakers lounge. He raised his glass of red wine. A start sign.

Dean grabbed the dagger on a stand next to him and started attacking one of the dummies, then he threw some stuff around and showed the Gamemakers a few martial arts positions.

The bell rang and he walked back. He waited for Jo in the hall before the elevators.

She emerged from the same doors as he did, ten minutes later. There was a big, smug smile on her face.

"Tell me you didn't do anything stupid." Dean sighed.

"I did my slingshot thing. The rock then bounced off the dummy and into one of the Peacekeepers that was standing at the door." Jo giggled. "But it was an accident. They'll probably like give me a four or something."

"If you hit a Peacekeeper, why wouldn't they just give you a one?" Dean asked. He pressed the button that said '12'.

"Because I hit my first target, the rock just bounced off." Jo smiled.

Effie and Bobby were waiting at the dining table. There was still some time to have dinner before Caesar would call the points.

"How did it go?" Effie squeaked.

"Horrible." Dean shrugged. "I got nothing to show. I think I would've got a better score if I had just danced around in my pants."

He filled his plate with steamed carrots and steak.

"Okay- that's clear." Bobby said, "How about you Jo?"

"I tried to work the slingshot but I accidentally hit a Peacekeeper." She said, between two bites.

Bobby sighed: "Great. Idjits."

After dinner, they sat down in front of the television and watched Caesar.

"God- he's so annoying," Dean sighed.

"I bet you can't wait until the interview." Jo laughed.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen of Panem!" he said, with that big smile plastered on his face. "Today, at their last day of training, all twenty-four Tributes had a chance to show them what they're worth! Let's take a look at their scores."

A picture of the boy from one popped up. He had a skinny face, with blonde hair and small, tired eyes.

"From district one, Michael, with a score of…" he paused for a moment, "Nine!"

He walked through the other Tributes. The girl from 5, Bela Talbot, had a high score too, one of ten.

"Castiel Novak," a picture of Castiel popped up, he looked confused. "With a score of… three. O, that's not very high, is it?"

"Why is his score so low?" Jo asked.

Anna had a score of eight.

Bobby shrugged: "Maybe he sucks. Maybe it's a trick, maybe he's trying to look weak and useless."

After Becky, who had a score of five, Dean's face popped up. His jaw was more muscular than usual.

"I think they photo shopped you handsomer, Dean," Jo laughed.

"Shut it." Dean growled.

"Dean Winchester, with a score of… nine!"

"Wow, Dean!" Effie smiled, "That's pretty high!"

"Sssh!" Dean said, he wanted to hear Jo's score.

"Joanna Beth Harvelle,"

"I wish he'd just say Jo." Jo sighed.

"With a score of… eight!"

Jo laughed, "I knew it would cost me points."

"Idjits."