Kurt couldn’t believe it. He sat in his high chair, motionless; jaw gawking at the extreme shock of seeing Blaine up on stage, next to Sue Sylvester. All of the other Glee members were virtually unmoved by the presence of Blaine; they had never met him nor heard about him before and not to mention, he’d just be another person trying to kill them so what difference did it make. But it made all the difference to Kurt. While all the other competitors rolled their eyes or listened in to the reporters, shouting for interviews with Sue and Blaine, Kurt’s thoughts raced around his head.

How the fucking fuck did he? Is this a dream? Am I fucking dreaming? Blaine Anderson!? Is there another cute boy who looks extremely similar and has the same first and last name who also happens to live in this district as THE Blaine Anderson I had met and fell in limerence with just three weeks ago?! How the he-

Kurt’s thoughts were cut short when the massive body guards, armed with rifles and decked head-to-toe in white polyester, came to escort the tributes to the train station. They shoved Kurt and Mercedes off the stage as they filed out of the auditorium of McKinley high to the 12 separate SUV’s outside; one SUV for each team. From the McKinley, the SUV’s would be given a police escort to the official District Six train station where they would get to say their last goodbyes with their friends and families before they boarded the train and made the 23hr trip to the Capitol, deep in the mountains.

Meanwhile, the reporters were going mad; flashing picture after picture, trying to get a good shot of all the tributes making their way to their respective cars. Some, such as Kurt and Mercedes, just tried to high tail it the fuck out of the place while others, such as Santana and Sebastian, took their time and mingled with a few reporters. Then there was the spectacle that was Sugar. Sugar, who chose Rory to make up Team 11, thought the Hunger Games was an eating contest. She told the reporters she had chosen Rory over all the other competitors remaining because she “felt that Rory had the best strategy and chance of eating the most food.”

After a few moments, all the teams/tributes were outside McKinley High and filed up for one picture, to be sent off to the Capitol and throughout Panem for all of the Districts to see each and all the faces of this years’ games.

The photographer was just another media reporter from the Capitol. By now, Kurt had developed his hatred for all of those descending from the Capitol. They were all so concerned with other peoples’ affairs and didn’t give a hoot-for-hollar about anyone’s lives as long as it provided them with sufficient entertainment. Oh yes, Kurt had quite the hatred for the people of the Capitol, but that is for a later story.

“One…Two..Three!”

Flash!

The photo itself was depressing. Aside from Sugar, only Teams 1-3 were smiling; Kurt was holding back tears while most faces just gave off melancholy and downcast smiles. Tina was looking at the ground while Quinn looked uninterested by the whole gimmick and wanted to get the hell out of District Six.

Kurt’s eyes readjusted from the flash of the camera to the bodyguards now escorting he and Mercedes to their SUV—last in the line and the farthest walk. He hopped into the backseat of the SUV and scooted all the way to the left where he buried his face against the car door. Mercedes hopped in and did the same on her side of the car. In a moment, the car’s driver started the engine and pretty soon the line of SUVs were being escorted onto the highway, making the two hour trek to the official District Six train station.

Kurt took one more glance of his surroundings. He watched as his former high school faded into the distance; as his former street where he used to live and would never returned disappeared. The minute they got on the highway Kurt fell asleep.

“How could you?!” Kurt yelled. “How could you do that to me?!”

“How could I what?” begged a faintly familiar voice.

“Don’t play that game with me! I know what you’re up to! Stop playing your mind tricks and tell me: How could you betray me like that?”

“As I recall, I never betrayed anything. I think you’re making this all up in your head. Just tell me please—what is it that I did, I swear to you I’m innocent!” the voice fired back. It was Blaine.

“Oh cut the crap, Blaine! You know dam right what you did, you fucking asshole!”

“Do tell me then Kurt, what exactly did I do, huh?”

“Oh fuck-you. You know, I thought you were a gentleman. I thought, as corny as this sounds, that you were different. I thought, for once; when my life was going in all directions down that you were this new, beacon of light that would turn all my bad fortunes around. I guess I was utterly mistaken.”

Kurt passed to the side of the room and looked out the window. The sky was a dark, gray overcast as a heavy rain started to bang on the streets below. People evacuated the streets as Blaine approached Kurt from behind.

“Who says that I’m not different. Don’t you think that what we had was real for the time being? Don’t you think that I cared even a little bit for you?” Blaine started to yell back.

“You know what right now I have NO-CLUE what to think!” Kurt snapped.

“Well than what exactly ARE you thinking right now, Mr. Know-it-All?!”

“I’m thinking that what you did was the shallowest and despicable thing a human being can do. I think that the minute Sue got the word that her plan was a go, that she called you and asked you to be her partner. I also think that you knew that I was going into the games so you specifically manipulated me to like you. That way, when I saw you walk up on that stage for the first time, you knew that I would be utterly devastated and crushed and emotionally unstable and therefore become an easy kill. THAT is what I think, Blaine. Now get the hell out!”

Kurt rushed to the other side of the room, trying to unlock the door but it seemed to be bolted shut. Not even with all his jerking of the knob or pounding on the door would it open. He turned around to an unexpected sight—Blaine’s eyes, filled with, not contempt or disgust or douche-baggery, but with tears and sorrow—almost like he had been punched in the gut.

“You think that I would do that…to you? That I would…make up..this…this fantasy! Of a relationship for you to fall in love with me…and me! To fall in love with you? Only to have your heart ripped out!? Is that what you think?”

Blaine asked, tears starting to swell up in his pupils.
A few tears started to make their way down Kurt’s cheek while he was speechless. He shrugged his shoulders, signaling he really had no clue.

“Kurt, I would never do that to you. I would never be here if it was for you…but I have a debt that I must live up to or something bad will happen.”

“You…what?” Kurt asked.

“Kurt…I’m being blackmailed.”

“You what—”

Kurt jolted awake as the SUV slammed to a halt.

“Kurt! Kurt! Wake-up! We’re here” Mercedes said, tapping Kurt on the back.

It was all a dream.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kurt entered the train station with even more reporters than at McKinley; all just as desperate as the last bunch, trying to capture every waking move of every waking tribute from the time they were chosen to the split second before their departure into the arena itself.

“Out of the way! Move it! Make way for the tributes!” the bodyguards yelled, holding back the mad mob of paparazzi so that Kurt and Mercedes could walk into the station. They walked with the paparazzi trying to squeeze into the circle the bodyguards had created until they arrived at their rooms that each held a number and a name tag.

Room 23: Mercedes Jones.

Room 24: Kurt Hummel.

Each tribute had been given their own private room to wait for twenty minutes so they could say their final goodbyes to any friends or family who had made the trip to the station. Kurt glanced at Mercedes as she nodded back to him before entering her room. Kurt took a deep breath and entered.

Suddenly, Carole leapt up from her wooden chair and hugged Kurt so tight he thought he was about to die from suffocating. Burt slowly got up from behind Carole as one of the bodyguards shut the outside door so that the three could have some peace before the train arrived.

“Ohhh honey!” Carole yelled. “We just want you to know that no matter what—we love you. We’ll be with you the whole games. You’re so strong. You know that?”

She let go of Kurt so that Burt could give his son a hug.

Kurt looked into Burt’s eyes. It was obvious that from the moment he had left home, there had been a nonstop flood of tears. His eyes were a bright red, probably agitated from so much crying. The only other time Kurt had seen his father in this bad of state was when Kurt’s biological mother, Elizabeth, had passed away years back. Kurt remembered the periodic episodes his father would go through. Some days he would be a complete wreck; crying, wishing for Elizabeth back. The next day, he would be as strong and great of a dad as ever, laughing as if Elizabeth had never left. The following day, he would be right back to crying. Kurt now felt extremely sorry for his dad. Not only did he have to lay his wife to rest, but now, most likely, he was going to have to suffer through watching his son die. Even if Kurt managed to escape the claws of death, there would still be the issue with Carole and Finn. When it came down to it, someone Burt or Carole knew, cherished, and loved, was going to die.

Burt hugged his son as he tried to hold back the snot trying to drip away from his nose. He held him there for a good minute before he finally let go a little and stared into Kurt’s eyes.

“I…I know I haven’t been strong lately, and I’m sorry for that.”

“No, dad, don’t be sorry it—”

“No! Stop! Let me finish!”

Kurt nodded.

“I should be apologizing because you’re the one that should be getting the support and love at the moment because you’re the one going into this sick and twisted game, and quite unfairly if I might add. You shouldn’t have to be worrying about your old man, crying over every waking move you make before you go into such an harsh game where death seems…likely.”

Carole was patting Kurt’s back while he tried to fight off tears.

“I just want to tell you…and I’m not just saying this Kurt. Believe me, I could bullshit you all day on a lot of things but if there’s one thing that I want you to know before you leave…it’s that I think—we think—that you can do this. You may not be the strongest or the fastest out of these people…but you are dam well the smartest, Kurt. You may think that just because you don’t have the stamina that these other guys do or that you aren’t as stoic and not afraid to kill people as some of those guys…that you are going to die. That is not true. You, my son, have something that all these other people don’t.”

“An uncanny gaydar and a killer sense of fashion?” Kurt chuckled.

Burt smiled.

“Aside from your amazing sense of humor…” Carole started.

“…you have a heart. You know that you’d rather win a battle fair and square and not kill a soul by your hands than by bludgeoning your old friends’ brains out.” Burt finished.

The amount of warmth in Kurt’s heart had made him a little giddy at that moment. He had never felt more proud of himself or anybody than he did right now. His parents knew him and his strategy as much as he did. But then something dashed into his mind.

“Bu—But what about Finn?”

Carole’s eyes were now the ones that started to swell up with water as she started to hysterically cry and managed:

“He…he said he’d do anything to not let Sue win.”

“Well where is he?!”

“He’s probably boarding the train now. You came last, after all, and since we only have twenty minutes, his time is up.”

“Wait, but why aren’t you with him!”

“Believe me, I tried. I knocked on the door but he said he didn’t want me to come in. He said he’d rather not see me anymore because he…he…”

Carole’s gates were down as the flood of water came rushing out her eyes.

“he said it’d be t-t-too much to handle and he wouldn’t be able to c-c-compete.”

Sadly, he understood where Finn was coming from but nonetheless that just about managed to break Kurt’s heart. Kurt was contemplating the same thing as Finn the other day.

Do I really want to see my Dad or Carole before I go? Won’t seeing them and their faces bring back memories that would only make him feel horrible and more unprepared for the games then if he just cut off all ties now and let the games take their course? Wouldn’t it be easier to say goodbye through a wooden door or through a television screen than actually being there, in the person, hugging your parents one moment and then slipping out their arms, being dragged to your ill-timed death train as they stand on the platform and slowly watch you depart out of their mortal lives forever?

Trust me when I say, Kurt thought about that long and hard but he realized it would mean the world to both Burt and Carole if they could see him or Finn one last time. It’s not like they wanted to make them feel bad or feel sad about what was happening; no, it just meant that Carole and Burt wanted to be there for Kurt and Finn, from the start from birth up until they had no control—that being watching them being escorted onto the train like innocent criminals. Though Burt and Carole also understood Finn’s decision, it still was devastating for the both of them, especially Carole.

A knock on the door interrupted their moment as two bodyguards in their white suits entered Room 24.

“I’m sorry but…it is time” one of the guards said. “Follow us, please.”

Carole and Burt gave Kurt one last quick hug goodbye. Even though he knew he may never see them again, he felt all the more brave and confident about it. They followed him onto the platform where Kurt met the extremely long and shiny train, ready to take him to the Capitol.

In years prior, the train had only been three or four cars long. One for the locomotive, two cars (one for the boy tribute and one for the girl) and one dining car. The trip could be made in 12 hrs at nearly 200mph. However, this year was different. The capitol devised a new method. Since all twenty four tributes were on one train from one district and since the Capitol didn’t want to keep all the tributes together in fear of early fighting, the Capitol had a train comprised of 25 cars.

One locomotive, as usual, but this time the locomotive was twice as big (since it would be handling 6 or so times the normal amount of weight). Then there were twelve cars, one car for each team to sleep on, and then in-between each sleeping compartment was a dining car, one for each team. So total, there were 25. But because of the immense load, the train could only go roughly 100mph, making the journey roughly 23 hours!

The train was most cleared from the platform. Only two cars remained. And each car had the number 12 on it. It was obvious—all the other teams had joined and the train progressively moves up. Now, the second both Kurt and Mercedes boarded, the whistle would sound and the train would make its way to the Capitol.

Kurt boarded the sleek car and entered what would be his dining car. Lavish blue interior with all sorts of exotic desserts and silverware met his eye. He saw a row of chocolates and croissants and little, mini-sandwiches. He may be headed towards hell but it would at least be a yummy ride there. Mercedes was already seated on the couch, with the same upset face since Kurt had last seen her when she closed the door to room 23 to be in her own privacy for a little. Kurt took in all the stylish components to the cars and was highly impressed with what the Capitol had under it’s belt.

Then a faint whistle sounded. The cars lurched forward as they begin to pick up speed. Kurt, suddenly panicked, took off to back of the car. Since they were team twelve, their dining car was the last on their train so he was afforded an extra second. He looked out and waved as he saw Burt and Carole, tissues in hand, waving back to him. He watched as they too, just like McKinley and his old street, faded from his grasps and then his sight and finally altogether.

Altogether.