Blaine had been so wrapped up in his own feelings that he failed to remember that Kurt’s name was in that bowl even if his wasn’t. He blinked repeatedly, trying to refocus on what was happening. He was vaguely aware that his mouth was open and his eyes stung. He squeezed them shut and upon opening them a few stray tears fell. He quickly wiped his eyes and glanced around to see if anyone had noticed.

All eyes and cameras were on Kurt as he made his way slowly to the stage. His brother Finn was standing with their dad in the families section. Finn was nineteen and no longer eligible to take part in the Games and Blaine knew that he would have volunteered in Kurt’s place if he could.

Finn had a strained look on his face that equally matched Kurt’s dad. Kurt had lost his mother the same time Blaine lost his and he didn’t think Kurt’s dad could handle another loss. He knew that Mr Hummel had a bad heart and this wasn’t going to help.

Blaine swallowed hard when he remembered that Kurt’s life now rested in his hands. Their eyes met as Kurt approached the stage and Kurt looked how he felt. The longer Blaine looked at him, the stronger the burning heat inside of him grew until it was too much and he had to turn away.

“Wonderful!” Sue Sylvester announced to the silent crowd. “This year’s tributes – Tina Cohen-Chang and Kurt Hummel!”

As the theme music played out someone behind the camera yelled “cut!” and the crowd slowly started to disperse. Tina and Kurt were ushered inside the Justice Building by a couple of Peacekeepers with Blaine, Shannon, Sue Sylvester and Major Figgins behind.

Blaine caught Kurt being shut in one of the rooms where he would be able to have a few minutes to say goodbye to his family and friends. It was the same room Blaine was taken to when he had to say goodbye to his dad and Cooper.

Blaine sat in one of the plush chairs, his right leg shaking hard as he rubbed his hands together. He was alone; there were no cameras in here. He let out a loud sob, his hands covering his face as he openly wept. He would need to pull himself together before he got on the train otherwise he would appear weak to his fellow tributes and sponsors.

But who was he kidding? He was hardly built for fighting. He was the shortest boy in his year, with a mop of curls that screamed innocent. Maybe he could shave his head to appear tougher? No, he’d look ridiculous.

The door to the room opened and Blaine glanced up, eyes stinging and red with his cheeks pink and tear stained. Cooper and his dad walked in, closing the door behind them. Cooper’s eyes were pink and his expression stony, almost unreadable. Had he been crying? Mr Anderson stood by the door, his arms crossed against his chest watching Blaine carefully.

“Coop,” Blaine said in a quiet whisper.

Cooper took two strides over to his brother, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close to his chest. “I know, B, I know,” he whispered back. “It’s going to be okay… it’s going to be-“

“- but it’s not. I can’t… I can’t do this,” Blaine interrupted, another sob shuddering through his body, causing Cooper to hold on tighter.

Cooper pulled back, taking hold of Blaine by each shoulder so he could bend down to meet Blaine at eye-level. “Hey, look at me.” Blaine looked up and blinked. “I believe in you, you’re smarter than you give credit for.”

Blaine scoffed at this. “What can I do?”

Cooper smiled. “Lots of things. You work in the factory, you know how to sew. You can make snares, shelter, warm clothing to keep your body temperature up during the cold nights.”

Blaine shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

“And you know about medicine from our Sunday lessons with dad,” Cooper continued encouragingly. He looked over to his shoulder and raised his eyebrows at their father. “Right, Dad?”

Mr Anderson nodded. “You always did very well in plant identification and medical supplies,” he said. It sounded like a compliment but Blaine was just too tired from the day’s events to analyse it.

“Exactly,” Cooper said enthusiastically. “And what about your fencing lessons? Surely they will come in handy.”

“Fencing with a mask and protective suit on is hardly the same as attacking someone with a knife or sword,” Blaine said, frowning deeply. He was very good at fencing, but that was only because his father had enough money to pay for extra lessons while some of his opponents could only afford to go once a fortnight. They weren’t a poor District like Twelve, but they were no where as rich as One or Two.

“Time’s up!” called someone outside the door.

Blaine looked back at his brother in panic, throwing his arms around him tightly. “I love you, please don’t forget me.”

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m not going to forget you because I’ll be seeing you real soon, okay?” Cooper soothed back, rubbing circles on Blaine’s back.

When they parted Blaine walked over to his dad who held out his hand. Blaine blinked at it and then sighed; giving his father the firmest handshake he could muster.

“Good luck, Blaine,” Mr Anderson said, forehead crinkling as he watched his youngest son nod in reply.

“Thank you,” Blaine merely said.

As they were led out of the room, Cooper called back, “I love you, Blaine!” and then Blaine was alone once more.

*

Blaine excused himself to the restroom where he promptly threw up in the first toilet. He flushed and shakily walked over to the sinks, placing both hands on the cool porcelain as he stared at his reflection. He looked wrecked; his face was pale and his eyes dark. He let out a choked breath and turned on the cold tap, throwing a hand full of water over his face to calm himself.

The door to the restroom opened and Blaine looked up at the mirror and saw Cooper in the reflection.

“Hey,” Cooper said softly, frowning at Blaine as the younger Anderson began to quietly cry, his bottom lip jutting out. Blaine grabbed a hand full of paper towels, wiping his face and eyes dry. As he paced up and down the sink area, he rested his arms on top of his head, trying to hold back the flood he knew was stored up inside of him.

Wait until you’re in your room on the train. Don’t let anyone see you cry. He told himself.

“Blaine, you’re scaring me, what’s wrong?” Cooper looked alarmed and held out a hand to stop Blaine moving.

“Kurt,” Blaine whispered, barely audible. He stopped pacing and wrapped his arms around himself, sniffing back a sob as he glanced at his brother nervously.

Cooper pursed his lips, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “The tribute? What about him?”

Blaine trembled under Cooper’s gaze. “I’m in love… with him.”

Whatever Cooper was expecting Blaine to say, this was not it. Cooper’s eyes widened and he rubbed his jaw as he inhaled a deep breath. “Oh.” He paused and then said, “When you came out to me at thirteen you were interested in the blacksmith’s son.”

Blaine’s cheeks turned pink. “Kurt is the blacksmith’s son,” he said in a small voice.

Cooper ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, that’s… this is difficult.” Cooper leant against the nearest sink. “I’m sorry this has happened to you. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now.”

Blaine joined him, leaning against the adjacent sink. “I thought last year was going to be the worse of it. Thinking I was going to die before I even got the chance to say one word to him, let alone tell him how I felt but this… I have to mentor him, Coop. I’m going to be all he has until he enters that arena and then I have to watch him…” Blaine didn’t finish his thought. He couldn’t.

Cooper clapped a hand to his shoulder. “Hey. Do you remember what I said to you last year in this building? I believe in you. I did then and I do now. It’s going to be okay.”

Blaine nodded and stood up. “I better get on the train, they’ll be wondering where I am.”

“Hey, come here,” Cooper said, pulling Blaine into a hug. When they parted Blaine gave him an appreciative smile and left the restroom.

***

When Blaine got on the train he debated going straight to his quarters and sleeping the entire journey, but then he remembered that Kurt was sitting somewhere scared and feeling alone. He would be sitting with Tina but Blaine knew from his own experience that Shannon would have gone straight to speak to her somewhere private.

Checking his reflection in one of the windows, he made sure his face didn’t give away the fact that he had been crying. The last thing he needed was for Kurt to see him looking weak when he was the one who had to advise him how to stay alive.

Blaine went to the dining cart first, where there were a number of plush chairs and a large mahogany table they would have tonight’s meal around. Kurt was sitting in one of the chairs by the window, chewing absently on a pinkish fruit. When Blaine closed the door behind him, Kurt glanced up looking almost startled to see him.

Oh great. I scare him.

“Hi,” Blaine said quietly.

Kurt swallowed the piece of fruit he had been chewing. “Hi,” he replied in almost an identical voice.

Blaine licked his lips, unsure what to say next. He instead took a seat next to Kurt and motioned the fruit in his hand. “What are you eating?”

“It’s a peach,” he said in almost a dreamy tone. “They only grow in District Eleven; I’ve never had one and thought why not?”

Blaine grinned at him when Kurt’s cheeks tinged pink and he dipped his head, smiling shyly under his eyelashes. How could anyone be that beautiful? “And how is it?” Blaine asked, biting down on his bottom lip.

“Heavenly,” Kurt answered honestly after a beat. “You should really try one.”

“I will,” Blaine promised. He rubbed the back of his neck gingerly as the silence set in. Kurt continued to eat and Blaine couldn’t help but watch his red lips mould around the flesh of the peach, moistening them as the juices escaped with every bite.

Kurt glanced over at Blaine who quickly looked out of the nearest window, hoping Kurt didn’t see him staring at him. Kurt licked his fingers and wiped his mouth with a handkerchief from his pocket. It was beautiful: cotton white with sky blue embroidered letters in the corner. EH.

"It was my mother's," Kurt said when he noticed Blaine admiring it. "It's the only thing I have left of her." He rubbed his thumb over the initials and smiled fondly at it before putting it back into his pocket.

"I have a piano," Blaine said suddenly. Kurt looked up at him curiously, knitting his eyebrows together as he tilted his head slightly. Blaine smiled fondly and continued. "My mom was a pianist, she taught me how to play and every time I sit at our piano and play I think about her."

Now it was Kurt's turn for his smile to soften as he remembered. "My mom and I would sing together. We couldn't afford – we didn't have any instruments at home but that never stopped her. She would teach me songs and we’d sing as we sewed or made dinner.” Kurt sighed, his eyes falling to his lap where his hands were clasped.

“You sang at the Harvest Festival four years ago,” Blaine said, his voice a little broken as Kurt looked up, his expression a mixture of surprise and bashfulness. Blaine locked eyes with him, feeling a little more confident. “You sang that old song…” Blaine racked his brains as Kurt looked on expectantly, his eyes wide and his lips parted. “Blackbird.”

Kurt sucked in a breath as Blaine nodded to himself, pleased. “Yes, Blackbird. It was breathtaking, Kurt. Truly beautiful.” Kurt’s cheeks had turned pink and he was biting on his bottom lip, his eyes firmly on Blaine, really looking at him, who in turn was just as flustered at what he had admitted.

While District Eight’s industry was textiles, they still held a Harvest Festival every September. The tesserae grain and oil was distributed every October so the people of District Eight used the last of the grain along with the last of their food stock before the new tesserae for the year was delivered.

You wouldn’t call it a feast, but there was enough that you left with full stomachs and dizzy heads from the wine. Everyone came together to bring what they could and there was dancing, singing, prayers, thanks and celebration as a community before the next Hunger Games began.

It was at the Harvest Festival four years ago Blaine had realised that he was gay. It was years before that when Cooper was telling him about his first girlfriend and Blaine decided that he wouldn’t ever have a girlfriend. When he told Cooper as much Cooper had merely laughed and said, “When you get older, you’ll change your mind.” Only, Blaine didn’t change his mind.

He had been sitting with Cooper enjoying their dinner of roast pheasant with spiced apples and mulled wine, clapping along to the barn dancers when Major Figgins introduced thirteen year old Kurt Hummel as the next performer.

To say Blaine was smitten was an understatement. As Kurt sang, Blaine found himself staring at this beautiful boy with a voice like an angel. He was a little nervous at first but as he started the second verse his voice became stronger, more sure and he gave it his all. Blaine felt something tighten in his chest, something he couldn’t make sense of.

Cooper was very understanding when he told him. Well, he had to tell him. He had been talking to Blaine for three minutes before he had realised that Blaine wasn’t listening. He told Blaine later that he looked like he was staring into the sun, his eyes bright and gleaming, blinking rapidly but unable to turn away. He had seen Kurt around school of course; they were in the same year, but he hadn’t really seen Kurt. They had spoken when both of their mother’s had died during the same accident when they were seven, but Blaine didn’t like to dwell on that.

Blaine tended to keep to himself; with only one or two people he called friends. Of course, when he won the Hunger Games the year before, he withdrew himself from everyone other than Cooper and that seemed to suit his friends fine.

“How did you remember that?” Kurt asked him suddenly, his voice full of awe.

Blaine opened his mouth and then closed it again before answering. “It’s not something I could forget in a hurry.”

The two boys continued to watch each other, the only sounds coming from the train as it sped along the countryside towards the Capitol. They would be arriving there late this evening and then tomorrow the training would begin for Kurt and Tina and Blaine would be given his schedule of sponsor meetings; dinners and gatherings he would be expected to attend to in case Kurt needed anything. And whether or not Kurt needed anything specific, Blaine was damn sure going to try his best to get him anything and everything the sponsors were willing to offer.

Because if Kurt was going to die soon, Blaine wanted him to at least know that someone was thinking of him, that someone loved him.

It looked like Kurt was about to say something, but what that something was Blaine never found out because Shannon, Tina and sure enough Sue Sylvester all came into the cart and made their way towards the table.

“Evening Blaine, Kurt,” Sue Sylvester said, nodding at each boy. “It’s time for dinner and boy, are you guys in for a treat!” As they both took seats at the table opposite each other, they glanced around at the empty containers and glasses. Blaine wondering what the Capitol had prepared for the first night and Kurt praying he could keep it down.

“Treat?” Tina asked, perking up. Blaine hadn’t seen her smile today so watching her hopeful face light up at the sound of something good happening today was refreshing and eased his heart a little.

“Of course!” Sue Sylvester beamed. “Just look around you! You’re going to be eating from plates and using knives and forks!” She opened her mouth in a large grin, pausing for effect. Except when she looked round, instead of seeing mesmerised faces, she was met with mild hostility and disgusted expressions. Blaine resisted the urge to throw his knife into her open mouth.

“Excuse me?” Tina asked, lip curling as she glared at the blue stained woman.

Sue Sylvester nodded several times. “I know! I bet you can’t believe your lucky stars! Now, if you need any help with how to use them, be sure to just ask, okay?”

Tina exchanged a look with Kurt, who looked just as appalled. “We use plates and cutlery at home,” Kurt pointed out, grinding his teeth, one of his hands resting on the table in a fist.

Sue Sylvester waved her hand at him. “Oh of course you do, but these are made from metal and crockery. I don’t suppose you have metal in District Eight. I imagine you make knives and forks with something in that little factory of yours!” She giggled and waved over a few tight lipped servers carrying trays.

“Yes,” Kurt said in a strained voice. “Out of metal.”

But it didn’t matter because Sue Sylvester was no longer listening. The servers, Avoxes, Blaine remembered from the previous year, were setting down various dishes that made Blaine’s mouth water from sight. Once everything was set out, they bowed deeply and left the cart.

Everything was labelled thankfully and from his experience last year, Blaine knew which foods agreed with him and which didn’t. He started helping himself to the sea bass with rosemary and lemon, remembering the garlic sauce he tried with it last year. As he was about to dig in, he noticed Kurt out of the corner of his eye, his hand hovering over various plates, his expression unsure and hesitate.

“Hey,” Blaine said softly, gaining Kurt’s attention. “Try that, I think you’ll like it.” He pointed at a cast iron pot that contained a strong smelling pastry dish. Kurt’s eyes flickered between the pot and Blaine and he licked his lips as he read the label. Venison pie with red onion marmalade. Intrigued, he spooned a helping onto his plate, poking his fork into the meat. He held the fork near his mouth, watching Blaine as though for permission.

Blaine nodded encouragingly. “Trust me,” he said simply.

Kurt hummed in agreement, slowly filling his mouth with the dark meat and pastry. His eyes widened as his chewing went from slow and careful to frantic. He began eating quickly, pausing only to wipe his mouth when the marmalade dribbled down his chin.

Blaine almost forgot to eat his own dinner, he was so invested in watching Kurt eat. Kurt grinned at him and poured them both a glass of orange juice.

“Thanks, Kurt,” Blaine said, feeling his skin blush and praying no one, especially not Kurt, could see it.

The rest of the meal was uneventful. With Shannon telling the story of her own time in the arena (Tina wasn’t born then and she wanted an idea of what she could be up against and what skills Shannon had that she could teach her) and Sue Sylvester tutting at various parts of the story. (“Really, Shannon. I doubt the Gamemakers made that tree almost crush you on purpose.”)

Blaine and Kurt stole glances throughout the meal, each of them making agreeable noises when they tried a different dish on the table. After Kurt had devoured his venison, he started taking random bites of the different dishes on offer. Some of them he stuck his tongue out at and others he went back for second helpings.

Blaine knew he should be talking to Kurt about the Games and what to expect but this was the happiest he had seen him and he wanted to make that last until at least the end of the train journey. There was time for serious talks tomorrow.

It was nearing eight o’clock when the world outside went dark and Kurt and Tina looked around in confusion, hurrying to the windows to peer out. When the train emerged out of the end of the tunnel and onto the train platform, both tributes jumped back, gasping. The platform was full of Capitol residents. And if they thought Sue Sylvester’s getup was weird, it was nothing compared to some of the clothes worn by the people there to welcome them. Kurt wrinkled his nose and Tina giggled.

“It would really help if you two could look gracious towards the crowd. The more the crowd loves you, the better your chances are at sponsors,” Shannon explained.

Kurt and Tina exchanged thoughtful looks. Kurt turned back to the window and forced a smile, waving at the crowd. Some people shrieked, others whooped and cheered. The louder the crowd, the easier Kurt found it to smile at them. Tina joined in, blowing a kiss or two as the train came to a complete stop.

“This is so weird,” Kurt muttered as Tina nodded in agreement.

Blaine placed his hand over his mouth and jaw, resting his elbow on the table as he watched them both sadly. “This is just the beginning,” he said.