The first time he wakes up, the time where Kurt greets and congratulates him, is short lived. He thinks someone holds his hand and he thinks its Kurt. Kurt is the only one in the room, after all. Yet he cant be sure. Everything feels strange, off, he wants to cry and move but he cant. Medicine are keeping him calm, the collar around his neck makes his throat unable to make any sound and his arms and legs are bound to the bed as well.

Maybe, just maybe, Kurts soft thumb strokes his hand timidly, but it can also be his imagination. Its what he wants, some comfort in the form of touch and imagining it is just as good. Kurt doesnt say much else, he remains a silver blob in Blaines vision. He explains briefly what happened after he fell unconscious in the Arena, but Blaine needs to ask again later. He doesnt register it, doesnt understand a word Kurt says. Its all vague jabber in his mind, almost as if Kurt speaks a different language entirely and then he slips under again.

The second time he wakes up he finds just healers around him, two are messing with a tube that goes into his arm and a third is applying thick cream on all his injured places. His legs are out of their bounds, his arms still in. He moves his fingers, wiggles his toes and tries to speak but gets hushed immediately. One of the healers leans over him and looks him in the eye. She has pink hair, pink lashes, and Blaine can see her clearly. His mind is clearer as well. Theyre waving off the medicine. He wonders how long hes been under for.

“Hello Blaine,” the woman says, “the collar will come off in two days, you can speak again when its off. For now, please rest.”

The healer messing with the tube in his arm grabs a syringe and puts it in the tube, squirts a white substance inside it. It feels a little cold where the medicine enters his vein, but before he can protest or even communicate in any form, he slips into an uncomfortably deep sleep again. This time, though, its not a dream-free sleep like the ones before. This time he sees everything, relives the Arena inside his mind.

He sees Tish in a pool of blood, he sees wolves and dead bodies. He trashes, screams but cant reach the bodies. He tries to run but hes held tight in place. He screams out for Tish, then sees Cooper, Quinn and Kurt lying amongst the bodies. He screams for them, screams loud and cries. Hes trapped, trapped in place and held together by only the idea they might wake up. They dont.

When he does, however, the third time after he has left the Arena, he finds Cooper at his side. Hes alive, Cooper lives. A strange sense of serenity falls over him, he quickly forgets the drugged dream and instead reaches out for Coopers hand. He can reach out now, his arms are no longer bound to the bed, and Cooper quickly takes it. He kisses it with tears in his eyes, keeps kissing it and Blaine almost laughs at the weirdness of it. He cant, though, the collar is still tight in place around his neck. He cant speak.

“Blaine,” Cooper sobs, “you did it, you did it, you did it.”

Blaine scoots over on the bed, he can do as much now hes completely free of any bounds, and pats on the bed next to him. Please, he thinks, please come into my bed and hold me like you used to ten years ago. Cooper does, understands him like probably only another Hunger Games survivor can, crawls into his baby brothers bed and pulls him as close as he can.

“Im here,” he whispers in Blaines ear, “Im here, always, Im here.”

Blaine falls asleep again, on his own this time, and dreams of terrible things. Theres dead bodies scattered everywhere, hes walking amongst them and he cant do a single thing to help them. Theyre mangled, missing limbs and some even heads. He wants to do something but every time he bends down hes pulled up by a strange force. So instead he runs, runs away from the bodies, runs away from the torn off limbs and pools of blood.

He runs and he runs, he runs faster and quicker but the body count around him only increases. He keeps running, keeps going, screams until is lungs give out.

“Blaine!”

Its Quinn who wakes him, her hands holding his face steady. “Its just a dream, Blaine,” she says, “shh, its just a dream.”

Hes on his side, facing her. Her thumbs stroke his cheeks softly, motherly even. She looks at him concerned, then sits down on the chair again, one hand leaving him entirely and the other moving to stroke his hair and brow.

“It gets better,” she says, “after a while it gets easier to deal with. Just, dont scream or thrash when the healers are around to hear you. Theyll just sedate you, think youre still in pain. Youre not in physical pain anymore, are you?”

He tries to focus on what should hurt, his throat from Fours tight fingers? No, its not hurting in the slightest. The collar is gone, too, he is allowed to talk again. His arm then, where the wolf had pierced its sharp teeth through his skin. Nothing there, not even a scar where he looks at it. He uncurls his hands from the tight balls they were in and inspects them closely. Nothing there, apart from a few red spots where his nails had been digging into them. Quinn is right, none of the pain hes in is physical.

“They dont understand,” she continues after Blaine drops his hands again and his tears start streaming, “they think all we endure in that Arena is physical pain. They dont understand the images, the hurt inside that never leaves. It gets easier, I promise, just dont let them see you hurt.”

“Sing to me?”

His voice is hoarse, nothing like his own, and as soon as the words are out a strong burn starts up in his throat. He doesnt know how to express the pain, though, other than his face scrunching together. He will need to build it up again, probably, he hasnt spoken since he got out of the Arena and the grip Four had had around his throat had been so tight his vocal chords were most likely damaged.
Quinn smiles when she sees the pain on his face, keeps stroking his hair and sings.

He falls asleep to the soft sound of her angelic voice, nothing about it indicates the hurt Blaine knows she feels. He knows now, how it really feels. What it is like to be Cooper Anderson, to be Quinn Fabray. To be so damaged by what happened to you, so scarred and lonely, so utterly broken inside. And hes only been awake for maybe thirty minutes all together since he got out.

He doesnt dream about horrors, not this time, Quinns voice soothing and her presence calming. She remains by his bedside until he wakes up again, and by the time he does shes joined by both Kurt and Cooper. He reckons he didnt sleep for a very long time this time, shes still in exactly the same spot and stroking his hair the way she was when he drifted off. Cooper is clutching his hand and Kurt stands awkwardly behind them.

“Blaine,” Cooper starts, “technically you dont need any health care anymore. Would you be okay with moving back to the quarters to gain your strength before your victory interview with Caesar next week?”

“Please,” Blaine croaks, nothing sounds more welcome than a warm bath in his room and the giant, soft bed. Being enveloped by the thick blankets and a camomile scent. Its everything he wants now, everything he needs.

As soon as he agrees, Cooper arranges for everything to happen. Hes helped up by Quinn and Kurt, Kurt carrying some comfortable clothes for him. He gets out of the gown he was wearing gratefully. Kurt helps him into the sweatpants, shirt and cardigan and then holds out an arm for Blaine to hold onto as he gets out of bed. All the while they dont speak, dont look at each other. Quinn takes his other arm and Blaine leans against her more than he does to Kurt. Everything about her is familiar, her smell and the way she cares. Her eyes shine bright with compassion and empathy, something he knows he wont find in Kurt.

He spends the first two days in bed still, sleeping off the after effects of being pumped full of morphling. The first day his muscles start aching, his body shakes and he feels like he has a fever. Quinn holds him, tells him to get through it. He sleeps, feeling trapped as long as hes under. Nightmares grow worse with every short nap he takes and his voice comes back quicker than hed expected, because his unconscious mind forces him to scream.

The third day, the fever breaks and the aching subsides. He feels tired, takes a long bath as soon as he wakes up and crawls back into bed. Cooper comes in with breakfast. Its a big bowl full of broth. Blaine takes the bowl from Cooper, looks at it and breaks. He throws it across the room, against the glass wall that sometimes functions as a television. The glass doesnt give or break, but the bowl smashes to the ground in a thousand pieces and the broth splashes across it.

Blaine screams, the loudest hes screamed thus far. He screams Pennies name, screams for Cooper and Quinn and then for Kurt. He hasnt seen Kurt since they arrived back at their floor, but knows hes there. Hes heard his voice outside the room, asking if Blaine was okay. He knows Kurt is designing whatever Blaine will wear to the interview in five days. Its been nine days since he escaped the Arena and he still isnt sure how. Or why Kurt was the one to see him right after. The broth, it had taken him back into the Arena. The only thing besides the bread hed eaten in there, and he needs to know. He needs to know every last detail and he knows only Kurt and Isabelle have been the ones who were able to watch it all. Knows Quinn and Cooper have hid as much as possible, taking advice from Kurt as to what to do and what to send. They hadnt been able to watch their little Blaine go in and fight the way he did. He needs Kurt, needs Kurt now.

“Kurt!” he yells, “Kurt, help me!”

Kurt comes crashing into the room and the first thing Blaine sees is he looks terrible. Its only been a little over two weeks since hes last seen Kurt, but he has never seen anyone change so much in so little time. Though Kurt probably thinks the same of him. Kurts eyes are sunken, hes got dark circles under him that indicate lack of sleep and hes paler than Blaine has ever seen him. Hes skinnier, too, as if he hasnt eaten since they parted ways. His hair is a ruffled mess, greasy and without product. His clothes are wide, silver, but plain. Its almost as if theres nothing left of the silver man Blaine had taken such a liking to.

“Could you maybe leave us alone?” Blaine asks Cooper, whos looking between the two with wide, questioning eyes. He nods curtly and rushes out of the room, pushing Kurt towards Blaine as he moves past him.

“You asked for me?” Kurt sits down on the bed carefully, almost as if he is afraid to get to close to Blaine. He looks broken, hurt and everything strong in him is gone. Blaine wishes he could rush forward and envelop him in a tight hug, but hes not sure he can. Not sure Kurt would like that.

“I want to know,” he therefore says, “I remember you told me what happened but I was to drugged up to understand a word you said. I want to know what happened.”

“What .. -”

“Everything,” Blaine says, “I need to know what happened.”

Kurt shrugs, a small grin appears on his face and he seems to relax a little. He scoots closer, really looks at Blaine for the first time.

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

“Right,” Kurt starts, “well, when you entered the Arena, it all looked very promising. Snow, a frozen lake, hardly any real hiding spots. It was supposed to be a very exciting and blood filled year. The bloodbath, it was terrible. For the longest time I thought you were .. - I thought you were d – dead.

“they showed the fighting faces and you werent among them. They showed the people running from the Cornucopia and you werent amongst them either. All I saw was faces that werent you and scattered bodies, faceless. You had to be one of the faceless, there wasnt any other explanation. But then the bloodbath was over and they zoomed in on the faces. You werent there either. It was the most confusing thing, until they showed a tiny bundle curled up on the Cornucopia and it was you. It could only be you. We still had no idea where Tish was, but you were safe and it was like I could breathe again.”

Blaine has to remind himself to breath, too, the pain across Kurts face too much to bear. Its strange, too, how it feels like Kurt is talking about any other Arena than his own. How different it was for him and how scared they all must have been.

“Then Tish showed up, and she got speared and they showed your face up close. It hurt so much, seeing you suffer like that. It broke Quinn, I think, she started acting really strange and distant when it happened. Then Tish died and you were there and it was safe in a way because we knew you knew there was still someone there, so you wouldnt move. And there were fifteen Tributes dead already, just after the bloodbath you got farther than any male Tribute of Quinn and Cooper ever got.

“Then.. a whole lot of nothing, the boy left the Cornucopia, you left there with all the supplies you took and then you found Pennie. Nothing interesting happened, everyone was just hiding in the woods. Actually, most of the Capitol was really bored because everyone was just slowly dying of hypothermia. The girl from Seven, who died right before Pennie, she was killed by an icicle that pierced her stomach. Then Pennie died of hypothermia and after that you mostly know what happened. All of the tributes were frostbitten, the guy with the limp, he actually lost three toes because of it.

“The Capitol was bored, Blaine, no one had killed each other apart from at the blood bath. They were mostly all just waiting to die. They sent those wolves in and went after you first, but you were too smart. It wasnt enough, there were some riots on the square here, people were screaming about wanting blood. They had to finish it quick, so they invited you all to the Cornucopia. We thought you were done for, with the injuries and everything, but Blaine...-”

Kurt sighs his name, looks at him with tear brimmed eyes and grabs his hand without realizing he does. He clutches tightly, smiles wide and chuckles.

“Blaine, youre so smart. Thinking of that water bottle, injuring his hands and he kept going and going and you fell unconscious. We thought you died, but then he fell to the ground to and there was all this blood over both of your stomachs. We couldnt see what had happened, it was all so quick and suddenly they zoom in on this knife sticking out from his chest and the cannon sounds, the anthem starts playing and your face appears on the screen with this giant “victor” written above you. You won and we all cried, we hugged and I think I actually kissed Cooper at some point.”

“I dont feel like a victor,” Blaine admits quietly, to which Kurt reaches out and strokes his cheek with a soft thumb.

“You will, youve been through a lot and you just got out of hospital, you will be fine eventually and youll know what amazing things you did.”

“I killed someone.”

“You survived someone.”

“Isnt that essentially the same? Hes dead because of me.”

Kurt looks at him with wide and tired eyes, unable to respond he pulls Blaine into a tight hug and just like the smell of Kurts cream in the Arena had soothed him, Kurts arms around him sooth him now. Its still a bit uncomfortable and simultaneously a very new feeling. Inside Kurts arms its as if he finds safety and belonging, the fire inside him settles to a tiny flame. He doesnt ask Kurt about the sponsors, how he managed to do it or how he knew exactly what to get Blaine. Instead, he lets himself be buried in those strong arms and hides from the world for as long as he can.

Which, in retrospect, isnt very long. Before he knows it Isabelle hauls him out of bed and forces him to eat. No more broth, though, they keep the broth and District 9 bread as far away from him as they possibly can. Isabelle keeps beaming at him proudly, tells him how amazing she was and how cool it is that hes a victor who only killed when absolutely necessary for his own survival.

“I bet youll be even more loved than Finnick Odair,” she says at one point, to which both Quinn and Cooper choke on their food and change the subject quickly. Kurt keeps looking at him like hes a broken, lost boy and at times Blaine thinks Kurt is as broken and lost himself. They dont talk much, not even when Kurt remeasures him. Hes lost weight, the short time in the Arena and the week in the hospital after made him skinnier than before.

He builds up to the interview with Caesar steadily, practicing with Cooper and eventually agreeing on a joint interview. The Anderson Brothers, victors of the 61st and 73rd Hunger Games. Thats who they are now, a unit from District 9. A phenomenon, the first ever siblings to both be victors outside a career District. Cooper and Blaine decide on several subjects, like their childhood and how Cooper being a victor had prepared Blaine for everything (it hadnt). How thankful Blaine is for the incredible team behind him, for Kurt and Isabelle (mostly Kurt).

Eventually its Quinn who decides Blaine needs some fresh air and, as every other Districts quarters has filled out with their tributes dead, she takes him up to Twelve and climbs to the roof with him. Something Haymitch Abernathy has shown her a few years ago, she tells Blaine.

Blaine takes a deep breath as soon as they enter the chilled air and its then that he realizes, its the middle of summer. To him, as long as he hadnt been outside the training center building, it still felt like the dead of winter. He couldnt be more wrong about it, the sun is shining and hot overhead. Quinn takes of her cardigan and looks completely carefree in her bright colored sun dress. Her short hair waving softly in the light breeze, her smile beautiful and straight.

There are times where Blaine wonders how anyone could have such a tragic past and still be as beautiful as she is. Her green eyes sparkle in the sunlight, her usually pale shoulders are sun tanned and bare. She seats herself close to the edge of the roof and then warns Blaine to not go any further than she is. Its an electrical field, she says, hell be knocked backwards harshly before he can even step to the edge of the roof. They way she says it, almost sounds as if shes been tempted to do it before.

He sits down next to her, crosses his legs and takes a deep breath of fresh air. Its welcome in his lungs, more welcome than any air has ever been. He takes of the cardigan hed put on against the cold and folds it neatly beside him. They sit in silence for a short ten minutes, until Blaine feels too hot with the bow tie around his throat and takes that off as well. Hed found the bow ties in the top drawer of his nightstand when he got back from hospital. Something the Capitol had added for him, as it had been his token throughout the arena. Its strange, he hadnt for one second even, thought about it while he was in there, but now he likes it. Its as if wearing it shows the Capitol hes better than them, he can defy them and get out of the Arena when he needs to. Hes stronger than them.

He places the bow tie on top of the cardigan and catches Quinn looking at it.

“What was yours?” he asks her, suddenly wanting to know everything he can about her Games.

“I had a tiara, it was my grandmothers from her wedding. She said it would bring me luck, and I figure it did. Though Im not sure if luck is the right word. If it really did bring me luck, would my name have been reaped do you think? And would my parents have died the way they did?”

Blaine goes to answer, but she doesnt let him. She keeps looking at the bow tie and picks it up, letting it slide between her delicate hands. Theyre soft looking and maternal at the same time, the way she holds the bow tie so carefully, as if its the most precious thing shes ever had inside of them.

“I wore the tiara throughout the Arena, I killed while wearing it and I threw it out as soon as I got back to Nine. They keep making me wear one every time I am present at a televised event, it makes me nauseous. The feel of that thing on my head, it takes me back into the Arena.”

“Is that why you cut your hair short and dyed it pink that one year?”

“They didnt appreciate it,” Quinn smiles, “Tina loved my guts, but the pink hair wasnt something a District girl could do. Especially not the way I did it, which had not much to do with Capitol fashion. They needed me to be recognizable as a Tribute, a victor and mostly a girl from the District. I agreed to have it back to blond, but Ill never grow it out to be long again. This short cut, its me now.

“Its not over, Blaine, not by far,” she continues, “Cooper and I talked about it, wondered how much we needed to tell you before – before we knew if youd make it. We thought maybe you wouldnt want to if we did tell you. We were selfish to make you survive, we were selfish to not give you your own choice.”

“Of course I wanted to survive .. -”

“No, Blaine, you dont understand. Its not over, its only just begun. Cooper and I, were the reason you were sent in there. Theyre not happy you won. Theyre not happy at all, they wanted you to die. You needed to die, they need to punish us and they cant cut out our tongues, throw us in prison or kill us like they do with others. We are to valuable to them, as victors we need to look like its a precious thing to win. It isnt. After we win, they own us, they think we owe them things, think we should be grateful to them that they give us all this money and that we have to do everything they ask of us. Cooper and I, were rebels in a sense, we dont always listen to them.”

Blaine takes a deep breath, keeps his eyes fixed on the bow tie between Quinns fingers and then closes them to be able to fully focus on what Quinn is telling him.

“When my parents died, I knew it was my fault. Cooper doesnt want me to tell you this, but I think you should know what youre getting into. When my parents died it was my fault. Right after I got out of the Arena, I wasnt as physically hurt as you were. I had an alliance that got me through to the end, people liked our alliance and we had sponsors. When I got out it turned out those sponsors, they felt like I owed them something and President Snow, he agreed. He forced me into rooms with them and … - I rather not talk about what happened.

“It turns out, President Snow, he felt like I owed him things too. He felt like it was him who gave me the opportunity to become famous, as if it was something I wanted. He invited me to his quarters in his private time.”

“What happened?”

“I refused. Next thing I know, both my parents are dead.”

Blaine swallows thickly. Hed always known Cooper didnt like the Capitol, known he and Quinn were together on that, but hed never understood why exactly. They served them good food, free food, they had a nice place to stay for those few weeks. Cooper even talked about friends in the Capitol, other victors they get along with. Finnick Odair is a good friend of Coopers, he knows, as is Annie Cresta. He knows Quinn and Johanna Mason get along, but now he knows why.

Nothing about it is just because theyre nice people, because they are good to them or because they have the same taste in music. Its because theyre in the same place, in the same life. Its because all of them are puppets, mastered by the Capitol. And now Blaine is one of them too. He tries to ignore the stinging pain he feels, the images in his mind. He looks at Quinn, really looks at her and sees the lines. They hadnt lost Blaine, but he thinks of all the tributes they have lost over the years, he thinks of how much that must hurt. He doesnt want to, he doesnt want to do it.

“Ill handle myself,” he promises Quinn, “Ill make sure nothing bad happens.”

“How though,” she smiles, its weird to see her smile in a situation like this, “you already pissed them of by staying alive, Blaine, theres nothing you can do to stop bad things from happening now. Just make sure they dont know whos important to you and theyll be safe.”

“Kurt,” he whispers.

“Kurt.” Quinn confirms.

Blaine doesnt confront Cooper, doesnt ask him what he did was so bad they felt the need to send his little brother into the Arena to die. He doesnt talk to Kurt much either, every fiber in his being feeling the need to protect Kurt. Its stupid, it was just one little kiss and he doesnt even know if Kurt feels the same about him. Doesnt even know for certain what it is he feels.

He does, however, notice the long and confused stares Kurt throws him, feels Kurts hand settle low on his back when he asks to pass him in the hallway. Sees how Kurt reaches for the salt at the table the same time he does, making sure their fingers brush. Blaines not dumb, not oblivious, knows Kurt is waiting for a moment to discuss privately about what happened before he went in. He understands Kurt needs to talk about the kiss and what happened, and hopes Kurt explains his distance now as it being a moment of weakness, a fear driven kiss. If Kurt ever gets the chance to ask, Blaine will use that as an excuse.

He cant let Kurt close to him, not now he knows what is about to happen. Quinn keeps coming to him with more and more horror stories, things they never told Blaine before but need him to know now before he finds out on his own.

Snow wants to sell Cooper as a lover to hundreds and thousands of women and men from he Capitol, Cooper refuses to come every time Snow gets a high enough bid to try it. Finnick Odair does do it, because the one he cares about is Annie Cresta and theyve tortured her so much already that shes gone slightly insane. No one but their victor friends and apparently Snow know about it. Every single person who buys Fininck off Snow, they think he really loves them. People think money can buy them love. Quinn turns green as she tells Blaine, then runs to the toilet to puke. Reminded of that one time she gave into it, fresh out of the Arena and an innocent fifteen year old girl.

She tells Blaine about Haymitch Abernathy, how he had turned the Capitols force field around the Arena into a weapon and how his parents had died within the year after he became a victor. She tells him about Haymitchs alcohol abuse and that she understands, that she herself had been probably become an addict had Cooper not won the games the year after her.

And then, she tells Blaine the most important thing. The thing he cant ever tell anyone else, because if the Capitol knows about this they will absolutely and most certainly use it against them the way they use Annie Cresta against Finninck Odair.

“Cooper and I,” she says, “were in love.”

Its minutes before their joint interview with Caesar Flickerman, and the whole interview long he looks between Cooper next to him and Quinn in the audience. He wonders how he didnt see it before, understand it, but he does now. To Blaine, Quinn has always been his big sister. For as long as he can remember, she has always been around. She beams up at both of them and he understands how it isnt suspicious to the Capitol at all, theyre all from District 9 and everyone knows theyre neighbors.

But now, now he looks at Kurt next to Quinn he knows she looks at Cooper the same way. She looks at him the way he looks at Kurt and he hopes no one sees it. They sit next to each other, hands clutched between them and Blaine wonders if Kurt knows how much he means to Blaine. They havent spoken about the kiss or anything at all since Kurt talked to him about the Arena and there isnt much time either.

Blaine feels strangely accomplished at it, even if all he wants right now is stand up and announce to everyone here how amazing the silver man who dressed him was. Hes dressed Blaine tonight, as well, in a gorgeous silver suit. Hes wearing a black undershirt, with a red bow tie, patterned with silver stars. His shoes are just as red, also patterned with silver stars and he wants the world to know how much he appreciates Kurt Hummel, his silver clothing, his silver hair and silver tattoo. But mostly, his silver-green eyes and pliant lips. He wishes he could tell the world.

He wishes he could tell Kurt.

Soon, the interview is over. The Capitol loves the Anderson brothers, is the conclusion of the night. They get a standing ovation and are ushered off the stage and onto the train station, before they even get the chance to change. At the train station, Kurt and Quinn stand waiting. Cooper enters the train after a quick goodbye to Kurt and suddenly it makes Blaine wonder if Tina just disappeared as soon as Tish died. He guesses hell know next year, when he is a mentor for the 74th years Tributes.

Quinn gives Kurt a quick hug, winks at Blaine and leaves them alone on the platform. There are no peacekeepers around, and with Quinn, Cooper and Isabelle already on the train, its just the two of them. His microphone from the interview has come of and his tracker had been taken out of his arm at the hospital. Theres nothing here that can stop him from telling Kurt the truth, telling Kurt everything he needs to know. He doesnt.

Instead, he steps in close and gives Kurt a quick, soft peck to the lips. Its not as desperate as it was before, still when he steps back Kurt almost trips trying to follow him with his lips.

“Dont ever think you shouldnt care about me,” Blaine says, “please, always care but never let anyone know. Its for the better, okay?”

Kurt looks at him with wide eyes, then quietly nods and blinks away a tear.

“Ill see you in a few months,” Kurt says with a bright smile then, though the break in his voice gives him away, “Ill make sure youll look nice for the victory tour.”

Back in District 9, Blaine gets assigned is own house and completely ignores it. He stays in the familiar house with Cooper and his parents. Quinn had warned him, as much as he wanted to offer the house to Tishs family, to not do it. If he did, she warned, theyd be dead in an instant. Another explosion at the factory or a terrible accident with the oven catching fire, burning down the entire house. No, families of tributes should not be shown any mercy or theyd die. Blaine assumes it has to do with making the Capitol look bad, making those people into people instead of simple pawns in their games of repression.

Being a victor, its a terrible thing to be. Its as if things get worse, instead of better. His nightmares frequent, and even during the day he constantly feels as if he needs to be on his guard for any killers. Every little girl he comes across turns into Pennie, every teenage girl suddenly looks like Tish. Boys are scary, and when they get to close their faces turn blistered and murderous. Hes yelled in innocent peoples faces more than once.

With Cooper and Quinns secret out to Blaine, he suddenly notices how quiet the house is at night. Coopers room goes unused, mostly, as he spends his nights at Quinn. For his own house, he makes sure the place looks like its lived in and not suspicious to Capitol visitors. Not that they get many, Blaine watches his mother and fathers every step, waiting for them to drop dead for his survival but they dont. His father remains distant, his mother has changed into an emotional wreckage.

She hugs him tightly every night before he goes to bed, he leaves the living room the same time every night, around ten oclock, and pretends to be asleep when she comes to check on him. She never checked on him before he went into the Arena. He feels stupid, his nineteenth birthday is coming up and his mother checks on him before she goes to bed. He doesnt say anything, though, he patiently awaits her gentle kiss on his forehead every night. Its like a charm, like he cannot fall asleep until shes given him that one kiss.

There are times where he feels like a small child again, banging on Coopers door and begging for him to come out of it. Cooper comes, Cooper always comes for him and holds him close when things get too much. During the day.

At night, Cooper is never there and Blaine knows why, knows hes with Quinn because they are the only ones who can keep each other sane. His mother sometimes comes in when he thrashes and screams through fast dreams, but her arms are never as strong and never as understanding as either Coopers or Quinns arms. He gets to know his brother and his brothers girlfriend better now he knows them. Knows about them and knows all the horror they have lived through. He knows their fears and their dreams, the feeling of being trapped in a place and not able to get out. He knows the anger and the hurt, the frustration of knowing how much someone means to you and not able to tell a soul.

He calls Kurt, daily, but hangs up the phone before he can reveal its him. He thinks Kurt knows its Blaine, Quinn has told him they speak to each other sometimes. He calls Kurt every night, half an hour after hes left the living room and half an hour before his mom comes in to check on him. Kurt must know, or he would stop picking up.

That moment of the day, it is the moment he looks forward to the most. Its an easy moment, a moment where instead of a Hunger Games survivor, he can be a teenage boy with unexplainable hormones. A young boy who met another boy he likes, who doesnt know how to tell the boy. But then theres always that moment where he realize the phone can be tapped, that if he tells Kurt how much he cares he will be in danger and he cant do that. Nothing happened to his parents yet, but theres this dreading feeling and the way his father looks at him, he knows theres more to the story than Cooper and Quinn have told him.

“Being beautiful is a curse, Blaine,” Cooper once told him, “the Capitol will want you to sleep with all these men and women and if you refuse they hurt the people you love. I refused, they tried to kill you. You havent refused them anything yet, so dont worry too much.”

But they failed, they tried to kill Blaine by throwing him into the Arena and they failed. He knows they wont let it rest, whatever it is they are punishing Cooper, Quinn and his father for. He knows his father is in on it as well, and his mother is deliciously oblivious. More than once he tries to ask his father, tries to ask Cooper or Quinn but neither answer him. Cooper warns him not to ask again, tells him he will know in time and to just focus on dealing with everything hes been through in the Arena.

He asks Cooper then, how though? How do you deal with everything, and Cooper has no answer other than you try.

He does try, day in day out he tries to drown out the horrors and focuses on daily tasks. He takes up singing, buys a gorgeous grand piano off the Mayor and decorates one of the many unused rooms in his unused house as a music room. He plays the piano day after day, sings songs that come to him. Sometimes Quinn joins him, her angelic presence soothing and her voice blending perfectly with Blaines. Cooper, too, joins them sometimes and when its just the three of them theyre carefree with each other. Blaine sees them hold hands, Cooper hugs Quinn from behind and she leans back against him. It looks so natural, so normal and it looks like everything Blaine needs to keep him grounded.

He goes into town, into Tishs fathers shop, five months after he gets back from the Arena. He cant offer them money, has made sure its absolutely against the rules to give them any charity, and so instead he brings him food. He gets them bread and meat, some days even pudding. He tells them hes sorry, wishes there was more he could have done and Tishs father ensures him its alright. Hes happy Blaine lived and yes, they miss Tish but it is not Blaines fault.

The more Tishs family seems to accept him, the guiltier he feels about her death. He could have done more, told Cooper and Quinn to make sure she lived as much as they made sure for Blaine. She still would have taken that spear to the stomach. He could have done more. She would have died anyway. Its Blaines fault. Theres nothing he could have done.

The first time he feels completely calm at at ease in his own body is, strangely enough, when his prep-team shows up the night before the victory tour and prods and pokes at him until hes clean shaved, hairless in the weirdest places, and ready to face his silver man. Sugar takes his hand and pushes him from his room towards the stairs, which he descends as gracefully as he can in the tiny robe they had put on him.

At the bottom of the stairs, Kurt waits for him with the brightest smile on his face. His hair is carefully styled, there seem to be more silver streaks in them than before and his tattoo shines bright in the light of the candles his mother has lit. Hes wearing a long sleeved, tight, black shirt with a silver bow tie on it and a silver pair of pants. It makes Blaine smile immediately, to see how Kurt will never stray from the color. He wonders if hes going to wear a lot of silver on this tour as well.

“Hi,” Kurts voice is breathless, “I am here to help you make an impression.”

The tour starts off in District 12, the train ride there longer than the one to the Capitol. Isabelle keeps running around making sure everyone will know their place, making sure Kurt has the suit ready and measured correctly, as Blaine had gained some weight since getting back to the District again, telling Cooper and Quinn to lay low and stay behind with her. Its funny, really, how she keeps telling Quinn what to do until Quinn shushes.

“Stop telling me what to do,” Quinn bites, “as far as I know, Im the only one on this train whos done this tour more than once.”

Things settle after that, Blaine announces hes going to bed and Kurt follows him. Their rooms are right next to each other, he can hear Kurt get ready, brushing his teeth and getting into bed, then he can hear Kurt getting out and pacing the room. The train goes on quietly, Blaine tosses and turns in the bed, awaits his mothers goodnight kiss that doesnt come and eventually falls into a restless sleep.

He wakes, not much later, to a dark room with Kurt standing over him.

“You were screaming,” he sounds worried, “I didnt know if I should wake you or not.”

Blaine is disorientated, Kurt over him and he feels like hes moving. It takes him a short while to realize hes on the train for the victory tour and only then he notices the tears in Kurts eyes. The room around him is dark, but the tiny flickering light from outside makes the tears and silver tattoo sparkle. Blaine scoots over, pats on the bed and allows Kurt in. He takes a breath, wants to start talking but Kurt goes first.

“I dont get you,” he says, “you kiss me before you go into the Arena and then you ask me to tell you everything and I do and you start ignoring me. There was something special, I know you felt it too and I understand you went through a lot, almost freezing to death and all that, but you could still talk to me? I know its you that calls me every night and I keep picking up the phone, hoping this is the time youll talk to me and you never do. You kissed me before you went into the Arena and you kissed me before you left and I dont underst .. - hmph”

Theres nothing he could have done to stop himself from claiming Kurts lips. Here in his bed, in the dark, where all he can see is Kurts face and all he hears is Kurts voice. Kurts body heat next to him vanishing the panicked feeling left over from the nightmare like a charm. And Kurt, his silver man, who kisses him back so eagerly. His arms wind around Blaines waist and pull him in as close as he can, shifting so hes on top of Blaine completely.

Blaine goes pliant under Kurts body immediately, nothing has ever felt as right as Kurts body on top of his own, Kurts fingers twined in his hair and Kurts breath mingling with his own. He gasps, grabs at Kurts sleep shirt and moans quietly when he feels heat coiling tight in his belly. He feels safe, the safest hes felt since leaving the Arena by far, and if he could hed stay with Kurts body on top of his own forever. They kiss, their tongues exploring each others mouth with a soft sweetness that makes Blaines heart ache and want for more, even if Kurt is right there and on top of him. They kiss for a long time and even longer, kiss until they both go quiet and their tongue-tied dance turns into soft and little pecks. They kiss until Kurts breath evens out and he goes limp in Blaines arms, soft and tender with sleep.

Sleep doesnt find Blaine, and hes out the bed and dressed before Kurt wakes up. He thought he was prepared for facing Pennie and Barses parents in Twelve, but nothing could have really done that for him. As he stands on the stage and is forced to watch Pennies face above her family, it takes everything in him not to break. He clutches the notes Isabelle had given him tig htly, says a few nice words to the family and offers them his condolences. After, when Isabelle guides him into the justice building, he walks a straight line into Kurts arms and lets himself be held.

He has dinner with the Mayor of twelve that night, meets Haymitch Abernathy for the first time and isnt quite sure he agrees with the mans manners. He sees why Quinn likes him, though, they get along quite right and it seems like they understand each others pain more so than Blaine and Cooper do. Cooper seems to like Haymitch alright, too and so Blaine decides not to let his alcohol abuse bother him too much. He guesses he understands, once you find a way to escape reality its easier to stay away from reality. Blaine is pretty sure he feels the same way about Kurts lips as Haymitch does about alcohol.

Kurt, Isabelle, Sugar and the rest of his prep team seem to be absolutely appalled by him, though, keep excusing his manners and ask a few of the serving staff to take all the alcohol away from him. When Blaine sees him drinking out Quinn and Coopers glasses after they do, he laughs. Haymitch winks at him when he sees Blaine and raises Quinns wine in his direction.

“To non-career victors,” he cheers and chucks the beverage in one go.

That night on the train, Kurt crawls into his bed before he gets the chance to fall asleep and have a terrifying dream. They dont kiss, not tonight, because Blaine falls into a serene and content sleep the moment Kurts arms slip around his waist. He feels well rested the next morning, waking up with Kurts arms still around him, he feels like he can face the world.

The next few Districts are easier to face, in none of them he knew the Tributes names. He knows them now, but its different when theyre long dead. It gets a bit difficult when he sees the girl who was beheaded by the wolves above her family, but offers them his condolences just as sincerely and distantly as he offered them to any of the other families. Its not until District 4 that he feels like he almost loses it again. Watching the boys face large above his mothers, he immediately gets images of a blistered face again. His mother is a beautiful, saddened, dark-skinned woman. She seems young, lonely, and Blaines heart breaks.

He tells her hes sorry for how it happened, how it had to be, tells them he wishes things could be different and that he hopes they can forgive him. He ignores Isabelles notes as he looks Fours mother straight in the eye and begs her with everything he can to forgive him.

“He was so close,” he says, “and I prevented him from getting out. Im sorry and I hope you can find it somewhere in your heart to understand why I did it. I wish there was a way I could bring him back to you, but I cant. Please forgive me.”

Please forgive me so I can start forgiving myself.

He watches Annie Cresta and Finnick Odair closely that night at dinner. District 4 is the first career District he has been in and its strange to see more than five victors at the table. Finnick treats an older lady named Mags like shes his grandma, hes cute with her and helps her cut her meat. His sight never loses Annie, though Blaine is sure Kurt, Isabelle or any of his prep team would never notice as long as they dont know about it. Still, the way Finnick constantly looks at Annie he knows hell do everything he can to protect her from the Capitols hands.

Kurt sits next to Blaine, keeps brushing his feet to Blaines under the table and throwing him shy smiles. They havent kissed since the first night, but he spent every night in Blaines compartment in the train, holding Blaine tightly so Blaine sleeps. Blaine winds his ankle around the foot Kurt keeps rubbing against him and looks at him, tries to tell with his eyes its alright. He cant stay away from Kurt, no matter how important it is to keep him safe and looking at Quinn and Cooper, Finnick and Annie, tells him he doesnt have to. As long as they can keep it quiet from whoever might want to do something to hurt Blaine for surviving the Arena, he will be able to talk about everything with Kurt.

“You're right,” he says that night in bed when Kurt curls up close to him. He's spooning Blaine from behind, and Blaine secretly thanks whatever God he doesn't believe in that he doesn't have to do this face to face, “you're right about not understanding. I don't think you can understand.”

“Then tell me,” Kurt whispers in Blaine's ear, brushing a soft kiss at the tender skin.

“I thought I understood, before, when Quinn would cry out and Cooper would rush to her side. I thought I understood, but I didn't. I thought I knew about the horrors they went through, but no one can know, no one can possibly understand.”

“Explain,” Kurt says again, sliding in a little closer and holding Blaine tight around his chest. It feels good, keeps him grounded and gives him that last bit of strength he needs to keep talking.

“I understand now,” Blaine continues, “why she cries out, why Cooper rushes to her side. I understand why they grew to be so close and why she didn't talk to me at all before I entered the Arena. People think, you go in there and make sure you come out and things will be okay. But they're not, nothing is okay anymore. I killed people, I went in there and I k…-”

“You survived them.”

“No, Kurt, let me finish. I killed them. I see them in my dreams, they beg me for their lives, beg me to live. They want to live, they all wanted to live as much as I did, none of them wanted to die and now they're dead and in my dreams I beg them to take my life. I tell them it's better that way, it's better to be dead than to be a survivor, because it is.

“I want my life to be over most of the time, but I can't bring myself to end it. There's too much to live for, still. There's Cooper and my parents, Quinn and you.”

“Me?”

“Always, you.”

Blaine turns in Kurt's arms now, the feeling of no turning back settles in his stomach like a warm and welcome ball, he needs to resolve this once and for all. Needs to tell Kurt what he knows, what he thinks and he needs to see what Kurt has to say to that. This is it, it's now or never and all or nothing.

“But I lost my friend in that Arena, Kurt. For you and for people from the Capitol it's just a simple game, a spectacular television show. That's not what it's like for me, or Cooper, Quinn or any of the other victor's. It's our life, it's what marks us for the rest of forever.

“I went in there thinking I would die, I kissed you before because it felt like the last thing I would do and then it wasn't. Suddenly I had this whole life ahead of me with more money than anyone could possibly spend in District 9 and I'm not allowed to help my friends or family with it. Only I can spend it, because I'm eighteen not even my parents have any right to that money. They nearly lost two kids, Kurt, and they have no right to the money. It's all mine and I have no idea what to do with it other than to spend it on food and clothing. I can't give any of it away to, say, Tish's family because the Capitol will find out and they'll execute them all. They can't take money from victors, they've been told because victors try that every single year. The reason we try it, it's the guilt. You can't believe the guilt that comes with leaving the Arena. Everyone keeps congratulating me, says I've done an amazing job and that I deserve to be pampered and relax for a little but they don't understand.”

“Blaine,” Kurt's hand comes up to his cheek and a strong thumb strokes away the falling tears. Blaine doesn't even try to hold them back, let's them flow and let's Kurt see his pain. Words can say a lot, words can tell him what he thinks Kurt needs to hear, needs to know, but only his body language and face can convey how he feels.

“What you see is a person winning one year of The Games. Five years ago, the girl from District 7, do you remember her?”

“No?”

“Me neither,” Blaine says, “but I will always remember every single face of this year's Arena. I will remember the way a girl was beheaded by a wolf in front of me and I will remember watching my friend bleed out. Her blood in the snow, it's a permanent fix on my vision and Pennie's cold body in my arms is a feeling that never really leaves me. My friend bled out in front of me, and then my other friend died in my arms. A guy I sort of liked, I saw him disappear in the ice lake and never saw him again. I saw another boy being speared and then that boy from One being shot to pieces. I blistered someone's face beyond recognition and kept on stabbing him and stabbing him until he let me go. I know you think I survived all of them, Kurt, but I think I saw them all die and I was the selfish bastard who didn't join them.”

“I think I .. –“

“And that's not even the end,” Blaine interrupts Kurt, “then I get out and the first thing my mentor tells me is that this is just the beginning. I'm a simple pawn in their Games, and I always will be. I'm popular in the Capitol now. People want me, want me to always be there and ready for them and I don't want to be. But when I refuse, they'll hurt whoever I love most. Annie Cresta, you've met her tonight, she's so weird and crazy because she loves Finnick and he loves her.”

“Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta?”

“And I'm trusting you when I tell you this Kurt, because everything is true and everything makes sense. I wasn't put in that Arena by chance as much as I wasn't a victor by chance. I was put in that Arena because they knew that was how to get to Quinn and Cooper and, though I'm not sure how he comes into this, my dad.”

“What do you mean?”

“They did something, or didn't do something maybe, that President Snow doesn't like and to show them he's still in charge, that even though he can't hurt them physically because they're famous now and people would notice, he can still hurt them deeply. Quinn is convinced that I was supposed to die and I didn't. If they find out you helped, that those sponsors were your friends instead of Coopers fans, he will hurt you. He's pissed with me for not dying and if he knows he can hurt me through you, he'll hurt you too. And that's the worst part is that I put you in danger.”

“I approached you, remember, I choose to help you.”

Kurt pulls Blaine in close and hugs him tightly, making butterflies in Blaine's stomach fly wild. Kurt's body heat is completely welcome, though a little suffocating, and he buries his face deep in his neck. They lay like that for a long time, Blaine searching for the words he can't find anymore. Everything he's been thinking, everything he's bottled up is out now and the ball is in Kurt's court. It's up to Kurt what happens next.

And if next is Kurt's lips soft at the base of his curls, just behind his ears, he's not going to stop it. He's not going to stop the sloppy and desperate kisses coming closer and closer to his mouth and when Kurt's mouth claims Blaine in a wild manner, he can only eagerly reply. Everything he needs now is Kurt and Kurt on top of him. Kurt's tongue finds its way inside Blaine's mouth and licks softly. He moves Blaine to his back and moves on top of him, grabs his hair and tugs it backwards.

He pants hot and hard in Blaine's ear as he rocks his hips up and down, up and down against Blaine's groin. They rock together, rock until their brains shut off and their bodies take over. They move with Blaine on top of Kurt, Kurt on top of Blaine, with each other and next to each other. They dance around each other until Blaine doesn't know where he ends and Kurt begins, they move until Blaine forgets his name and only remembers Kurt's and they move until Kurt breaths Blaine's name in his ear hoarsely, like a silent mantra.

“Youre everything, Id risk everything for you,” Kurt whispers tight in Blaine's ear after he comes back down from his high, winding his arms tight around Blaine on top of him.

“You...-,” Blaine answers, “ever since my name was reaped this fire has been coursing through my veins and when I left the Arena it got worse. Sometimes I feel like it's getting so hot, so fast and heavy my skin will explode. But here, in your arms, it's gone.”

“Blaine, I … -”

“No, shush, don't say anything else please? Just, just lay here with me.”

“Okay.”

Kurt is careful around Blaine the next few days, doing everything he can to avoid him during the day but trying to get him closer than physically possible every night. They talk more than they kiss or do anything else, but there's always touching. Holding hands in between them as they speak, converse about the future. It's random mostly, though Kurt keeps reminding Blaine he trusts his judgment. Kurt talks too, now, and Blaine listens. It's like their relationship evens out. Where before the Arena Kurt did most of the talking because Blaine had not much to say, and after the Arena it was Blaine who needed to explain and take the lead, with everything out in the open they're equals.

Which, of course, they are not. Arriving in the Capitol he quickly is reminded. The suit Kurt designed for the feast and President Snow's house is extravagant, more extravagant than anything he ever wore. The sleeves end wide around his wrists, a silver hoop holding them open. The rest is black, with a silver shirt and silver pants. The pants are tighter than should be appropriate, his blazer is longer at the back then it is at the front and Blaine just doesn't understand where the simplicity of all his former outfits disappeared to.

“Just deal with it,” Kurt winks, “for me.”


Blaine smiles and nods. Hes tired, he has hardly slept in between talking to Kurt and trying to ignore Quinns increasing nightmares. Its as if she has been feeling just as guilty, just as horrible since they left District 4. Shes been screaming loudly every night since, and hes heard Cooper try and shush her to sleep.

Looking at Kurts proud beam, though, Blaine decides hell deal. He compliments Tina on Quinn's dress, compliments Kurt on Cooper's suit that's so much simpler than mine, Kurt, why? He nods friendly to people whom he doesn't know and eventually lets himself be introduced to Kurt's father.

Burt Hummel is nothing like what Blaine expected Kurt's father to be. He is, to put it frank, the most down to earth Capitol resident Blaine has met thus far and a complete sweetheart. He compliments Blaine on his victory, but leaves it at that. He doesn't keep asking about what it's like to be a victor like everyone else does, and most of all he doesn't glorify it the way Isabelle keeps doing. Blaine talks to Kurt's father for shorter than he would have liked, any excuse to be around Kurt without seeming suspicious would be nice and he does really like Burt's presence.

Yet, Isabelle is the director for tonight and when she orders him to follow her he has to. She takes his hand to lead him through the crowd of people, he ignores the touches and amazed stares when he sees the faces and keeps his eyes focused on Isabelle's fluffy purple hair. She stops at a short, blond woman who wobbles on the high heels she's wearing. Her hair is short, too, styled big but it's her own, rather than a wig like Isabelle's. She sets down her glass forcefully, spilling more than half of the champagne in it when she sees Blaine and coaxes towards them.

“Blaine,” Isabelle says with a gentle but tight smile, “I would like for you to meet your biggest sponsor. April Rhodes.”

“Ooh,” April coos, “Kurt told me you were ten times cuter in real life!”

“Kurt?” Isabelle asks.

“Yeah, Kurt, he's my friend you know. He's the reason I helped little Blainers here out of the Arena. Can't bear it in my heart to see Kurt sad. He was so sad when Blaine was injured, I just had to step in now didn't I? Kurt begged me to get him the …”

“Stop talking! Now!” Isabelle orders April curtly and grabs her arm to drag her into a quiet corner. Blaine follows them and makes sure their view is blocked for anyone trying to sneak a look. Though he feels everything is over already, April in her drunken state having revealed too much to Isabelle, he needs to be sure no one else is listening in. It's difficult, trying to blend into the crowd and making sure no one watches or listens in when he's the person this entire party is about and dressed in clothes as extravagant as Kurt made them.

He leans in close to Isabelle, hears her whisper to April and sees April's face contract in horror.

“Don't ever talk about Kurt convincing you to do that ever again. What is your reason for sponsoring Blaine as generously as you did?”

“Because he's Kurt's…”

“No! Because you liked his pretty little face and couldn't bear to see it mangled. Blaine was your favorite tribute…-”

“He was!”

“… - and you had some money to spare so you went to his brother, asked him what he needed and got him it. Kurt Hummel has nothing to do with why you were Blaine's major sponsor. Am I making myself clear?”

Never before has Blaine seen Isabelle so strict, and though she's actually making things better for him and Kurt, he's never been more scared in his life. April seems to have gotten the message, grabs her champagne from the table and wobbles into the nearest bathroom. It seems like no one around them has actually heard what Isabelle said and when Blaine himself tries to escape, she grabs his arms forcefully.

“Did you know?” She asks.

“Maybe.”

“You're lucky I'm your escort, Anderson, and you're lucky I care about Kurt so much. I don't think any of the others would have let this slide. I'll make sure April Rhodes keeps her mouth shut, but you make sure no one will ever be suspicious.”

“Of course.”

“Okay now, shoo, go, and don't let me see your face again tonight, I'm angry.”

Just as Isabelle turns and walks away from him, Kurt comes up behind him and slides his arm discretely over Blaine's lower back. He goes to stand in front of Blaine, a decent length away to not cause any suspicion and offers him a new glass of red wine.

“I feel sick.” Blaine says, looking at the plate of champagne flutes going buy, to which Kurt tugs his arms and leads him to a bathroom.

“Didn't they tell you to drink that stuff in here?” He asks and pushes Blaine into a free stall.

“What?”

“The drinks, you need to drink them in here or you'll never make it before you get sick. I don't really like it, messes with my taste buds, but if you want to try them at least do it right.”

“Try what?”

“The food enhancers. The drinks that make you empty your stomach so you can keep eating without feeling full or getting fat.”

“There's drinks for that!?”

“Of course there is.”

“Drinks that make you throw up? For Christ's sake, Kurt, do you know there are people where I live who have trouble feeding their children daily and here you people go and puke to eat all you want?”

It's silent outside the stall, Blaine can't see Kurt's face but has a vague feeling it's a sad one. The face he pulls whenever Blaine tells him something about the horrors of living in the District, things Kurt can't possibly understand or imagine. It's a face Blaine doesn't like to see, the way his brow furrows and his eyes look questioning. His voice goes softer, then, too and he sounds so very apologetic when he talks.

“It can't be that bad.”

“Of course it's that bad, Kurt!”

Blaine opens the stall and moves right past Kurt, into the room again and finds Quinn and Cooper. He takes Quinn away from Cooper with force and presses himself to her. He dances with her until the evening is over. Asks her if she ever tried it and is glad to hear she is just as horrified by the existence of a drink like that as Blaine is. She says he'll get used to it, during other dinners and celebrations during The Games and that if it for one second becomes too much, he needs to come to either her or Cooper and they'll be there for him.

He dances with Cooper, too, for a short while and for just those ten minutes he lets himself forget about yelling at Kurt, about anything and closes his eyes. For just a while, in his big brother's arms, he is that little boy who used to stand on top of Cooper's feet and let himself be led. He holds onto Cooper's strong, broad shoulders and is a little child for just a while. Something in him settles, but the fire still courses through his veins, keeps coursing through until he's warm and solid in bed and, despite their fight that night, Kurt slides in and pulls him close.

They don't talk until morning, when he's awoken with tender kisses to the back of his neck and soft whispers of apology. Blaine turns around in Kurt's arms to face him, whispers soft words of apology back and kisses him on the mouth. He needs to leave soon and he can't leave being angry at Kurt. He promises to always come back to Kurt, he promises to never say goodbye and to always talk when things are wrong.

“I'm sorry I yelled at you,” he whispers and Kurt answers, “I'm sorry I didn't believe you.”

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you immediately what happened with Isabelle and April,” Blaine says, to which Kurt answers, “I'm sorry I didn't realize something else was wrong. I'm sorry I thought you'd gone as shallow as me and drank that drink.”

“You aren't shallow.”

“You're better than I am.”

“I'm only good because you make me good.”

“Don't make me cry.”

“Don't make me cry, then.”

“You have to go.”

“I have to go.”

They kiss until Isabelle knocks on the door, says the train will be leaving in an hour, and they kiss a little longer than that.

The fifteen hour train trip back to District 9 is horrible without Kurt to hold him, and so he crawls in between Cooper and Quinn like a little child. He promises them this will be the only time, and they tell him he can come to their bed whenever he wants. Just, like, walk up the stairs really loudly so we have a warning, Cooper makes him promise.

Blaine didn't think he'd actually take them up on the offer, but finds himself going over to Quinn's house on more than one occasion throughout his time back in District 9. He talks to Kurt over the phone every night, but it's not enough. It's never enough. They can't say they love each other, he can't tell Kurt how much he misses his arms or his kisses, his smell and his fingers playing with Blaine's hair. He can only tell Quinn and Cooper and she he goes there two times a week. Most nights he spends in their guest room, Quinn's guest room and only rarely he joins them in their big bed. Everything in the house is theirs in a way Blaine would want to share things with Kurt, but he can't.

Another reason he's over at Cooper's and Quinn's so much, is because his father keeps being distant towards him. He's polite and friendly, but never the carefree and gentle man he used to be before Blaine went off into the Arena. He tells Kurt often about how stifled he feels in his own home, his mother so equally overbearing as his father is distant and Kurt gives him words of comfort. They pretend to just have gotten to be close friends over the victory tour, not knowing who listens in on their phone conversations, and it leaves Blaine with a longing he can't quite explain to anyone. Not even to Cooper or Quinn.

He asks Cooper time and again why his father is so distant, if that had happened twelve years ago when Cooper returned as well, but Cooper still avoids his questions. Cooper tells Blaine everything will fall into place in time and this is not the time. He asks Quinn, who looks at Cooper and then tells him the same thing. Blaine yells, gets angry with them for leaving him out and then complains to it about Kurt. Kurt is always a good listener, tells him he understands and never questions Blaine. Sometimes Blaine wonders if Kurt even knows about half of what Blaine tells him, but he doesn't ask.

They're not together as a real family until reaping day. Now none of them need to sign in and put their names in the bowl, they have time to watch Twelve and Eleven's reapings before they have to get ready. His father sits in his usual chair in front of the television, Quinn stands behind the couch and Cooper, Blaine and their mother curl up on the tiny sofa.

It all happens fairly quickly, first the girl's name is reaped and Blaine's heart aches when the camera zooms in on a child, no older than twelve at most. She looks terrified and Blaine gets taken back, immediately, to how he felt when he'd heard his name across the square. He grabs Cooper's hand and squeezes it tightly, Cooper wiggles it out of Blaine's grip and throws his arm around him instead.

And older girl walks forward, calls out the younger girl's name. The child starts crying and wants to run to the older girl, but they're both held back my peacekeepers.

“I volunteer!” the older girl yells, “I volunteer as tribute!”

“Oh, my,” Blaine's mom exclaims while his father, Cooper and Quinn all move closer to the television. Blaine, mostly, is confused as to what is happening.

He follows the girls movements closely, recognizes his own fear in her eyes as she walks up the stairs towards the stage, where Effie Trinket stands with a bright smile completely out of place for the situation. The very first District 12 Volunteer, she announces.

“What's your name, dear?”

“Katniss, Katniss Everdeen.”

Quinn rolls the name over her tongue behind Blaine, tries it out and says it over and over again until Cooper shushes her.

“It was her sister,” their father grumbles, “she volunteered for her sister. Look at her, she was brave enough to stand up and say she'll die to save her sister.”

“They won't be happy about this, will they?” Quinn asks him.

“Not happy at all.”

His answer is followed by a heavy, thick silence that isn't broken for a good ten minutes, until the doorbell announces Isabelle and the Capitol crew has arrived. They have to get ready for Nines reaping, theyll be on a train to Kurt in about five hours.

“Blaine,” Cooper says as he squeezes his shoulder, “are you ready for your first year of mentoring?”