The hovercraft ride to the arena was the last time Kurt and Blaine would be able to see each other before the Games began. They sat holding hands, trying to draw strength from one another. Somewhere on the hovercraft were the other 22 tributes with their mentors and escorts. Burt and Sue would wait with them in their individual prep rooms from which they would enter the arena alone.

Blaine dressed quickly, anxious for the wait to be over. The tributes this year wore simple black tracksuits made of a breathable cotton blend. The material was flexible and would be easy to run in. Burt helped him into the light jacket as they counted down the minutes. As much as he wanted to see his son once more before the Games, Burt knew neither of them had the strength to say goodbye. And Kurt would need all of his strength in a few minutes.

“Listen kid, I know you're determined to look after Kurt in there. But don't forget to watch your own back too. Don't run into that bloodbath if you can get away.” He knew Blaine was smart enough not to get drawn into a fight he couldn't win, but he worried that the boy underestimated some of his competitors.

“Thanks for everything Mr. Hummel.” Blaine gave him a confident smile.

“You can call me Burt, kid.” He put his hands on Blaine's shoulders, steadying  himself more than the boy. He was in awe over how composed and focused Blaine was. He remembered being a nervous wreck at this point before his Games. “I love you kid. Make sure my boy knows I love him so much.”

Blaine shook his head. “Go wrangle up our sponsors and get him home so you can tell him yourself.”

Kurt was glad his father had opted to help Blaine with his final preparations instead of him. He definitely wouldn't be able to keep from crying if he tried saying goodbye to his dad. Instead he was with Sue, wondering what the arena would be like this year. No two arenas were ever the same, mostly to keep the audience from getting bored year after year. Not knowing what to expect made preparing for the possible arenas an additional challenge for the tributes.

“Listen, I'm sorry what you're going through Lady. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I guess I don't have to. I think Mary Lou Retton is an orphan or something.” Sue hated the Games and was mentally kicking herself for getting close to this year's tributes. As she waited with the Hummel kid, she couldn't stop the feeling that all of her hope of one of them winning was little more than a pipe dream, and it would only hurt more when that dream was shattered.

“You know, calling me Lady is from the same hurtful thinking that put me here in the first place.” Kurt felt his stress and anxiety manifesting into anger. He was sick of everyone belittling him. It wasn't enough that his District had intentionally sent him to the Games to die. They had done it in the cruelest way possible. In a way that said his sexuality made him less than a man.

“I'm sorry kid. I honestly thought that was your name. As an apology, I'll allow you to choose from the following nicknames: Gelfling, Porcelain, or Tickle Me Dough Face.” That was about as much of an apology as you could expect from Sue.

Kurt felt his anger ebb as quickly as it came. It wasn't fair to take out his frustrations on one of the few people trying to help him. “I guess Porcelain isn't so bad.”

“Darn. I was really hoping for Tickle Me Dough Face.” Sue gave him a wistful smile as Kurt stepped into the glass elevator that would lift him into the arena. Kurt smiled back. They didn't bother saying goodbye. The elevator rose into the sunlight.

“Ladies and gentlemen, let the 125th Hunger Games begin!”

While Blaine's eyes adjusted to the change in light, he took in his surroundings. The tributes had to stand on their platform for exactly one minute before the bloodbath would start. Occasionally a tribute would step off before the timer ran down and would be blown to pieces. So Blaine made sure his feet didn't move as he looked all around him. They were in a giant roofless room with 6 doorways around the perimeter. The room was easily the size of the Capitol Square or the field just beyond the electric fence surrounding 12. Blaine could only see through the doorway closest to him, but it looked like it led into a hallway or corridor of some kind. All of the walls were made of huge stone bricks and stood about 10 feet high. He didn't like not knowing what the arena looked like outside this room or where that hallway led.

The cornucopia was in the center of the room and was piled high with weapons and supplies. Some small packs were scattered around the room, but if a tributed wanted the good stuff they would have to fight for it. Blaine saw Kurt on the opposite side of the room and they locked eyes as the timer counted down the final seconds. Blaine raised his eyebrows and gave an almost imperceptible nod toward the door closest to Kurt, indicating that he wanted Kurt to make a run for it as soon as the gong sounded. Kurt nodded once to let Blaine know he understood. Most of the career tributes were closer to Blaine, and would hopefully choose to go for the weapons before chasing down their competition, so Kurt should have a clear shot at the door.

The gong rang out. Game on.