Abraham took Isaac’s hand

And led him to the lonesome hill.

While his daughter hid and watched

She dared not breathe, she was so still.

Just as an angel cried for the slaughter,

Abraham’s daughter raised her voice.

Then the angel asked her what her

Name was, she said “I have none.”

Then he asked how can this be,

“My father never gave me one.”

And when he saw her, raised for the slaughter,

Abraham’s daughter raised her bow.

“How darest you child defy your father?”

“You better let young Isaac go.”

—“Abraham’s Daughter”, Arcade Fire

Kurt sped through the trees, clutching the stitch in his side as he slowed to trudge on. He’d long ago given up on direction and the fog was too thick to see beyond thirty feet. All he knew for sure was that there was a mountain on one side of the forest and the beach on the other. He paused to catch his breath, leaning heavily on one of the large pine trees. The temperature was dropping fast and he’d been running for hours, desperate to get away from the blood bath. Nine canons had gone off about an hour ago, signaling its end, so the Careers were already most likely in the trees, weaving their way through, finding tributes to slaughter, all six of them—

He clenched his eyes shut, trying desperately to block them out of his thoughts, not wanting the images of them killing tributes to crop back up again. The sonorous boom of a canon snapped him out of his reverie. Ten. Nearly half the tributes were already dead and the first day wasn’t even over yet.

The Capitol must be pleased.

He set off deeper into the woods again, eating a couple of pieces of dried fruit from the pouch he’d managed to snatch up from the cornucopia before he fled. He needed to find some cover, otherwise the Careers would slit his throat in his sleep. He folded his clothes carefully around himself, glad that his District 8 textile knowledge was unexpectedly coming in handy. Blaine had thought it wouldn’t be much help—

He stopped in his tracks, trying to block his mind from the memories, but they steadily washed over him…

Kurt bit his lip as he conquered the hexagonal knot. He’d been at the knot-tying station for the better part of an hour, trying to master as many knots he didn’t already know as he could manage. It didn’t come as easily to him as it did to the District 4 tributes, but his knowledge of thread gave him a bit of an advantage. 

He started knotting from the start again, for practice, but got distracted by the pair of hands next to him that were fumbling their way through the simple square knot. Kurt tried to concentrate on his own task at first, but then rolled his eyes while snatching up the rope from the hands beside him and dropping his own knot. “Here, see? It’s like this…” He completed the knot, then undid it, placing it back into the lightly sweaty hands. Then he molded the other’s fingers around the rope, guiding him through the process.

Kurt smiled when the knot was completed. “See? Not that hard…” He glanced up and froze.

It was Gel (at least, that’s what Kurt called him in his head — he’d been too busy to learn all the tributes’ names), the male tribute from District 2.

“I… um…” Kurt’s throat was suddenly dry. “I’m sorry —”

“My name’s Blaine.”

Kurt blinked at him, and at his outstretched hand. Cautiously, he shook it. “Kurt.”

Kurt blinked away the memory, continuing on. He jumped when another canon blasted. Eleven.  This was getting out of hand. The Careers must be on a rampage. Well, that was expected…

“Why did you do it?”

Kurt and Blaine had met up everyday at the knot-tying station so that Kurt could help Blaine with his knots. He was definitely showing improvement, despite the fact that his fingers were used to masonry.

“Do what?”

“You know,” Blaine pushed. “Volunteer. For that guy.”

Kurt sighed. “I guess you would have seen that.”

Blaine snorted. “Of course. My mentor said the tributes always watch each district’s reaping. I mean, haven’t you? You know, for background information.”

Kurt’s fingers halted in their twisting and tying. He ignored the question, because the answer was no. Will and Terri had done very little to prepare him and Quinn for the arena. “You mean to size each one up. To see how hard or easy it’d be to kill each one.”

Blaine froze. “No, Kurt—that’s not what I mea—”

“Blaine, it’s okay,” Kurt rushed, gathering up his things. “We all know that the Careers are banding together to kill the rest of us as soon as the countdown ends.”

“Kurt—”

“I have to go,” he muttered, hurriedly joining Quinn from his own district at the edible plants station.

Another canon blasted. Twelve. Kurt shivered, but it had nothing to do with the cold. He searched through the towering pines until he found a giant tree with large, sprawling roots. He slipped down through a gap between them as another canon blasted. Thirteen. More than half of them gone now. His heart raced as he pushed nettles and pine cones aside, burrowing against the sweet dark earth. He tightened his clothes around himself, trying to seal in warmth as he ate another piece of dried fruit. 

Night fell quickly, and the anthem blared through the arena. Kurt could see the faces of the fallen through the roots.

The girl from District 2. Well, at least one Career was dead. He vaguely wondered how she died. He wondered how Blaine felt about it. Then he shook his head.

Both from 3. Both from 5. The girl from 6. The girl from 7. 

Quinn. 

The boy from 9. Both from 10. The boy from 11. The boy from 12. 

So that meant there was Jess and Andrea from 1, Blaine from 2, and Sebastian and Harmony from 4 in the Career pack who were out hunting everyone.

Aside from himself there was that blonde boy from 6, the boy with the dreadlocks from 7 (Joe?), Mercedes from 9 who’d helped him and Quinn out at the edible plants station, the snarky curvy girl from 11, and that girl — Tina, he was sure her name was — from 12, made popular because her fiance had caused a great stir at the reaping, trying to keep her from going.

Eleven of them left.

They hadn’t even been here eight hours.

Kurt closed his eyes to get some sleep, willing Blaine to not be on the back of his eyelids. 

The odds never were in his favor.

The next day Kurt ran into a fidgety Blaine in a hallway. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” Blaine rushed out. “I shouldn’t have —”

“It’s okay, Blaine,” Kurt rolled his eyes and slowly turned to walk away. “The rest of us are sitting ducks, we already know that. There’s only one victor and they’re most likely going to either come from 1, 2, or 4. And my chances of surviving the blood bath are laughable at best. I’m pretty much a wounded gazelle on the Serengeti, waiting for you to skewer me —“

“No, Kurt!” Blaine snapped, spinning him around. “I don’t want to kill you!”

His voice rang through the hall with such conviction that Kurt was actually speechless for a moment. 

Then reality caught up with him. “None of us really want to kill each other, Blaine. Well… I’m pretty sure the tributes from 1 and 4 do, they’re pretty demented. But the point is, that when the time comes, we will.”

Blaine shook his head. “I won’t. I won’t be the one who kills you.”

Kurt smiled. “The sentiment is nice, but there are twenty two others perfectly capable of doing the job. Odds are, you won’t be the one who kills me anyways.”

Blaine stared at the ground, long and hard. “So you don’t want to live?”

Kurt balked. “What? No — why would you think that?”

“You’re in the games. You volunteered. You could be at home right now. Instead, you’re here, patiently awaiting your death.”

“I’m not patiently awaiting my death!”

“Then why did you volunteer?” Blaine exclaimed.

Kurt stared into Blaine’s blazing eyes, momentarily taken aback. “Because…because it was the right thing to do.Puck… Puck has a family that he supports, he couldn’t go —”

“He would be getting on better than you,” Blaine snapped, tone still sharp. He could even have had a shot at winning — I mean… I don’t mean you don’t, but this guy seemed more physically prepared than you…”

“He never would have won,” Kurt said sadly, shaking his head. “Because he never would have been able to kill Quinn. He loves her.”

Some of the wind was taken out of Blaine’s sails, and his tone softened slightly. “But… surely someone else could’ve taken his place —”

“Yeah, my stepbrother Finn was going to,” Kurt sighed. “But… he never would have killed Quinn either. They used to date. And he’s engaged. He’s eighteen. He has a life and pretty soon he’ll be starting a family. So I volunteered before he had the chance to.”

“Because you’d be able to kill Quinn?” Blaine asked.

Kurt shook his head. “No. Because I wouldn’t need to. It doesn’t matter if I come home or not.”

“Kurt, don’t be stupid—”

“Stupid?” Kurt glared at him. “Blaine, I have nothing. Finn will take care of his mom and Rachel. He’ll help out with Puck. My mother and father are dead. There’s literally nothing holding me here and who the hell are you to judge me? Sorry that we all can’t have a hotshot brother and wealthy parents and a proper roof over our head!”

“You don’t know anything about me!” Blaine snarled. “My brother? I’ve been living in his shadow my whole life! Nothing I do will ever measure up to Cooper. Especially after he won the Games seven years ago. My father has never been accepting or even loving towards me! At least your parents loved you enough to keep you close and sing you lullabies when you were scared!”

“Well, I —” Kurt froze, at loss for words. How on earth did Blaine know about that? Probably from his stupid background research, his mind provided. “I hope you’re happy, then. You finally have the chance to live up to your brother. Excuse me if I don’t feel sorry for you and your daddy issues because over half of my district is starving while you get to pine for your father’s love every night with a full belly. How hard life must be for you.”

He felt it before he even saw it. Blaine took two knives from his belt and lodged them five inches into the wall, less than a centimeter from either side of Kurt’s head. 

Kurt’s body went on lockdown, every limb and cell freezing completely as Blaine stormed off. After standing there, frozen for ten minutes, he carefully moved away from the knives — well, daggers, really — and yanked them out of the wall. He stared curiously at their curved shape before taking them back to his suite. 

Kurt was snapped out of his drifting thoughts by a rustling at the root gap to his small burrow. He curled as far into his corner as he possibly could, watching as two figures climbed into the burrow, whispering frantically to each other.

“San, you have to be quieter! They were right on our tail and I swear that 1 girl —”

“Andrea.”

“— Andrea has super-human hearing.”

“I’m sorry, Tina, it’s just too cold. District 11 is a freaking furnace, I’m not used to all this fog crap — I need more warmth!”

Kurt surveyed the two. Tina from 12 and “San” from 11. And apparently Careers were on the way. So if the girls had to be surprised, it should be now instead of when there were five Careers prowling the area.

So he shushed them. 

The two girls wheeled around immediately, San raising a jagged rock-knife.

“I’m unarmed!” he whispered hurriedly, raising his hands. “But you have to be quiet if Careers are on the way!”

San still held the rock up, her teeth chattering. Tina looked between the two of them, worried. 

“Listen,” Kurt stressed. “We don’t have a lot of time, but I can wrap your clothes so that you retain warmth.”

San stared at him suspiciously, but he could see her resolve weakening. 

He held out his hand. “Truce?”

“Should we find allies?”

He and Quinn were alone at dinner, again. Their mentors, Will and Terri, were out on the town, doing god knows what. He and Quinn had to guess their way through a strategy. They didn’t even know if they had sponsors. 

Quinn shrugged. “They could be useful, depends on who. That 7 boy, Joe, can wield an axe pretty well. Maybe him? Just anybody other than the careers.”

Kurt hesitated. “Why?”

Quinn rolled her eyes. “Please, Kurt. We’re from 8. They’d kill us before the first day is up.”

Kurt glanced nervously towards his room, where the odd daggers were kept. “Yeah… yeah, I guess you’re right.”

San broke, putting her rock down. “Truce.” She shook his hand. Tina followed suit. 

Kurt got to work, folding San’s clothes around her, even giving her his jacket for extra warmth — “8 is cold, it’s fine”— and the three of them settled in, watching the foggy woods.

Ten minutes later, the Careers appeared, laughing and cheering boisterously. They spread out around the clearing, poking and prodding things. Kurt, San, and Tina all clasped hands tightly.

The 4 girl, Harmony, stopped right in front of their tree. “Well well well. What have we here?”

Kurt looked up fearfully from behind the roots, ready to take flight, but Harmony’s back was turned to their tree. She was looking up at the tree opposite theirs, across the clearing.

“Oh my god, are you serious?” Jesse, the 1 boy laughed.

“Please… !…” a voice pleaded from the trees.

It was Joe, the dreadlocked boy from 7.

Andrea, the girl from 1, put an arrow in her bow. “May I do the honors?”

“Naw,” Sebastian 4 four said, twirling his spear. “It’s Blaine’s turn, isn’t it, Blaine?”

Kurt looked around, spotting Blaine by the side of Joe’s tree.

He was staring directly at Kurt. 

Kurt waited for it, the words that would end them. Because really, what hope did the three of them have of surviving a fight with five Careers?

“You’re right, it is my turn.” Blaine tore his eyes off Kurt and threw two knives into the tree. There was a cry of pain and then silence. Andrea shot an arrow into the body for good measure.

“Let’s clear out, find the other ten,” Jesse said, and the Careers began to leave the clearing. Blaine was the last to leave, shooting a look in Kurt’s direction and holding back a gasp when he got close enough to confirm that it was indeed Kurt he thought he’d glimpsed.

It wasn’t until Joe’s body fell out of the tree and the canon boomed two minutes later that the three sprang to action. They ran over to Joe’s body, Tina grabbing the weapons, San snatching up his backpack, and Kurt divesting him of his jacket. They left quickly, so his remains could be picked up, walking in the opposite direction to the one the Careers took and comparing spoils. His jacket was standard, but could be used for extra warmth. In his backpack were matches, edible tree bark, a needle and thread (which Kurt happily claimed), a spile to get sap from the trees, and a knife, which San grabbed and tucked into her belt.

“These are kind of funny-looking, aren’t they?” Tina muttered, holding up the daggers.

Except they weren’t daggers. They were sais. 

Kurt nervously entered the combat area. Blaine was practicing fencing with a sword, his shirt shed and sweat glistening on his chest. Kurt gulped and cleared his throat.

Blaine stopped, neatly putting his sword back in its sheath. He raised an eyebrow in question.

“Um…” Kurt shifted from foot to foot. “I… I came to return your daggers.” He held them up.

Blaine raised his eyebrows in surprise before moving forward to take them. “They’re not daggers, they’re sai swords.”

Kurt nodded. As if that made any difference to him. “Right…”

Blaine tucked them into his belt before taking his sword out again. He swung it around before seeming to realize that Kurt was still there. “What?”

“I just… I wanted to apologize,” Kurt muttered, the word foreign on his tongue. “I’m sorry for what I said yesterday and… yeah.”

Blaine blinked once before nodding. 

Kurt tapped his leg nervously. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around —”

“Wait.” 

Kurt turned back.

Blaine licked his lips and swallowed. “I was wondering… maybe… if you wanted to be allies?”

And that was the last thing he’d expected to come out of Blaine’s mouth.

“Allies?” he asked incredulously. “But the Careers —”

“I don’t want to be apart of their group!” Blaine burst out, then looked around in alarm, making sure that no one heard him. “Look, after the countdown, we’ll run. I’ll try to grab as much as I can from the cornucopia, and we’ll make our way through the arena. Just the two of us.”

“But… Quinn —”

“No,” Blaine said emphatically. “Just the two of us. Anyone else, we’d have to kill eventually.”

Kurt didn’t say the obvious. That they’d have to kill each other eventually. And he knew who’d win that fight. So he opted for what he thought was a safer question. “But why me as an ally?”

Blaine stared at him, his gold-green eyes startling in their intensity. 

“Because I want you to be.” 

He handed back the two sais. “Take these. Textiles won’t help you in the arena. Come on, we have to train.”

Kurt frowned at the sais. “But I don’t know a thing abou — ARGH!” He hastily held the two sais up in an “X”, catching Blaine’s sword before it cut him in two.

Blaine grinned at him. “Well, at least you have good reflexes. Come on, we’ve got a long way to go.”

Blaine was merciless in his training — though why Kurt had expected anything less, he’ll never know — doing his very best, it seemed, to give Kurt an actual injury. Kurt blocked as well as he could, taking the occasional swipe at Blaine, but eventually both of Blaine’s sai swords were knocked from Kurt’s hands and his legs were kicked out from underneath him. Blaine straddled him, pressing the tip of his sword to Kurt’s throat with a grin.

Seriously, were all the citizens of 2 psychopaths?

“While we’re in this position,” Blaine smirked. “How about some ground rules?”

Kurt nodded as much as he could with a sword pressed against his throat.

“First, no one else. Just us. Two, at the cornucopia, you run. Get the hell out of there. Grab a backpack if it’s right next to you, but then you have to run. I’ll grab what I can, but you won’t last five minutes.”

Kurt didn’t argue.

“And lastly… we’re allies. That’s it. Nothing more. Allies.”

Something stung deep in Kurt’s chest, but he ignored it. “Okay.”

“Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

They shook hands.

Kurt ended up with the sais when San and Tina realized that he could actuallyuse them. The day following Joe’s death was eerily silent. They’d seen no sign of the Careers, and it seemed Mercedes and the blonde boy from 6 had managed to stay out of the Career’s rampage, too.

The next afternoon, Tina went in search of some game while Kurt and San took down their temporary camp, intent on moving on. 

“Do you have anything back home?” San asked suddenly, straightening up. “Anything that you’re fighting more.”

Kurt grimaced. “Not really.” He felt pathetic for admitting it.

San nodded, pushing her hair out of her face. “I don’t either. But… Tina does.”

Kurt looked at her and he understood. Because Tina had spent the past day jabbering about Mike and how much she loved him. He didn’t have anyone like that, not since his father died. And from the looks of San, she didn’t have anyone either.

He nodded. “If it comes down to it, Tina should win.” 

San nodded. “Exactly. 12 hasn’t had a winner in nearly fifty years. Let’s send her back home.”

They shook on it.

“You know,” Kurt laughed. “You’re nothing like you were at your interview.”

San laughed, deep and throaty. “I could say the same thing.”

“So, Blaine,” Caesar Flickerman said with his infectious, slightly creepy grin. “Your brother won the Games seven years ago, when he was eighteen.”

Blaine nodded. “Yep.”

“And you’re only seventeen. Do you think you can live up to your brother’s legacy?”

Blaine’s smile was nearly blinding, but Kurt could see from his eyes that he was annoyed. “I’m pretty sure that I’ll blow Cooper out of the water.”

***

“Listen, Caesar, there’s only one thing you need to know about me. I’m fierce, femme, phenominal, and I will end anyone who gets in my way.”

Caesar laughed. “Well there you have it folks! Santana of District 11! She’s a firecracker! Better watch out for her…”

***

“Didn’t Quinn just look stunning in her dress?” Caesar sighed.

“Yes,” Kurt agreed readily. “She always looks fantastic.”

“But I hear that it’s not the ladies who turn your eye, right Kurt?” Caesar nudged him playfully with a grin.

Kurt was freaking out internally. Seriously? This was where they were going to go? He just coughed politely and looked to the side.

“Oh, don’t be bashful, Kurt! Now, I was just wondering, of all the male tributes, which one would you like to kiss the most?”

What the hell kind of question was that?

“None of them.”

Caesar laughed. “Come now, Kurt, you have to at least like one of them? How about Blaine? With those dreamy green eyes —”

“Why on earth would I kiss someone who wants to kill me?”

Kurt almost slapped his hand over his mouth. How could he be so stupid? He was trying to impress them, to gain sponsors. No one here wanted to be reminded of the sheer brutality and cruelty of the Games, despite the fact that it was exactly that which they would soon consume with eagerness. But not now. What should he do? What… what…

“Sebastian!” He blurted out the first male tribute name that came to mind. “I’d… I’d kiss Sebastian…”

Caesar blinked out of his shock and arched his eyebrows in surprise. “Really? The handsome District 4 tribute? Well I must say Kurt, you have excellent taste, doesn’t he folks?” The crowd cheered in agreement as Kurt attempted to get through the rest of the interview alive.

***

Kurt paced back and forth on top of the roof — his and Blaine’s designated meeting place. His interview hadn’t been the greatest, but he’d have to talk with Blaine about sponsors before they went into the arena tomorrow —

The door slammed opened and Blaine stormed across the terrace, infuriated. “What the hell was that?”

Kurt jumped in surprise. “Wha— ”

“Telling the whole goddamn nation that you want to kiss Sebastian?” Blaine shouted, less than a foot from Kurt.

Kurt stared, bewildered at Blaine’s rage. “I… I was just trying to fix my mistake. Sebastian was just the first name that popped into my head. I had to say someone.”

“Then why didn’t you say me! I thought we were allies!” Blaine paced back and forth like an angry animal.

Kurt blinked in confusion. “We are allies. I just didn’t think of you —”

“No, Kurt,” Blaine spat. “You just didn’t think. You never think when it comes to these things —”

“Blaine —”

“— which makes you a liability.”

Kurt frowned. “So… wait, what do you want me to do?”

“I honestly don’t give a fuck anymore. This alliance is over.”

Kurt gaped. “What? No, you can’t —”

“Like hell I can!” Blaine yelled. “Go back to Quinn, Kurt. I’m joining the Careers.”

“But, Blaine —”

“God, I was such an idiot, thinking you’d actually be worth something as an ally.”

That stung. And Kurt swallowed the lump in his throat as Blaine stormed back down the stairs.

“I’m back!” Tina called cheerfully from twenty feet away. “And look, I found a rabbit.”

“Oh thank god,” San moaned, as they both hopped off the log. “I’ve been dreaming of meat since —”

Kurt acted on instinct. 

He saw the metallic glint over Tina’s shoulder and ran, knocking her to the side. He yelled out in pain as the arrow cut across the side of his arm, knocking him to the ground. 

“Harmony, quick! They’re over here!” he heard Andrea yell.

He turned back to his girls. “San, go.”

San shook her head, knife already out. “I’m not—”

“Santana!” he snapped. “Take Tina and get the hell out of here! Remember your promise!”

San stared at him before nodding, grabbing Tina by the arm and running away from where the arrow came from.

He turned back to Andrea just in time to knock one of her arrows out of the air with a sai. But that was it, as of now he was determined to be on the offense — at least strategically — he was bleeding and had only one goal. He had to buy Tina and San as much time as possible. So he ran to the left, leading Andrea into a chase. He heard Harmony join too, after a minute. Thank god he was a fast runner.

Harmony gained on him. She had a carving knife out that had wicked jags — clearly for cleaning fish. She swiped the knife across his back, managing to cut through one of his layers.

Luckily he had on four.

He ran around a giant oak tree, managing to come up behind her and bash her head into the bark. He kept running as she fell unconscious to the ground, turning to knock one of Andrea’s arrows to the ground. 

He came to a clearing, wheeling around to knock away another arrow before charging Andrea. She was growing frustrated, shooting arrow after arrow, trying to hit him, but he knocked each one out of the way. As she reached back for another, he threw one of the sais and it lodged in her shoulder. She screamed in pain, dropping her bow. Kurt ran up and jammed his other into the joint where her neck met her shoulder.

She dropped to the ground, blood pooling everywhere. 

His first kill.

He wrenched his weapons out and ran. Kept running through the woods. Until two things made him stop.

The boom of the canon signaling Andrea’s death.

And Blaine suddenly standing before him, ten feet away.

Kurt licked his lips, terrified out of his mind as the countdown reached twenty. The cornucopia was overflowing with weapons and food and tools. He looked over to Quinn, who was four tributes down from him. Their plan was to run, run as fast as they could to find cover. Luckily, they were surrounded by fog, so it shouldn’t be too hard.

But Quinn was looking significantly towards a backpack ten feet in front of her. Kurt thought it was too dangerous — he was just going to grab the small backpack that called to him from only a few feet between him and the cornucopia — but they had no time for arguments. So he nodded at her with three seconds to go.

The canon fired. 

He grabbed the backpack, slinging it over his back as he backed away quickly, eyes on Quinn. She grabbed the backpack and he turned and ran. 

“Kurt!”

He turned at Quinn’s voice.

She was standing, twenty feet from him, a spear protruding from her chest. She spat out a mouthful of blood.

Sebastian grinned from behind her. “How about that kiss?”

Fight or flight.

Kurt ran.

Kurt breathed in sharply through his nose.

Blaine stood there, sword in hand, staring at Kurt pensively.

Well, Kurt was already a dead man walking.

He attacked, sais whirling, and Blaine countered with force. Kurt very quickly realized that Blaine had been holding out on him during training. That sword was like an extension of Blaine’s self, deflecting everyone of Kurt’s swipes with ease. Kurt did manage to cut one of Blaine’s cheeks, but lost a weapon in the process. 

Panicking, Kurt stabbed his remaining sai towards Blaine’s midriff, but Blaine was quick and agile. Blaine moved away from the stab as if he had expected it exactly where it ended up in the air, and knocked that one out of Kurt’s hand as well. 

Kurt was finished. He’d been finished since he volunteered for Puck. 

But hell, he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

So he kicked Blaine in the shin.

Blaine actually dropped his sword in surprise as he hissed in pain.

Kurt eagerly pressed on, trying to punch him, but Blaine grabbed his wrist, wrenching it the other way. Then he grabbed the back of Kurt’s neck and Kurt knew it was over. He shut his eyes tight, waiting for the painful snap that would mean a broken neck and one less tribute in the Games when he suddenly felt drops of water landing on his cheeks, lips and forehead, and he opened his eyes in shock. Rain was pouring from the sky; and Blaine?

Blaine was kissing him. 

TBC