President Snow dropps Blaine's hand quickly, the smile still plastered on his face but his cold eyes registering a fleeting moment of surprise. But he does nothing, and with a final bow, Blaine is escorted off the stage. 

Moments flash in blurs of white, helmets, lights, guns, colors. Crippet is behind him, hand firmly pressed to the small of his back and pushing him ahead. The two and York are surrounded by Peacekeepers who lead them through the screaming throng of fans in the Capitol and into the station where he first arrived.

The train is waiting and Blaine steps within it, closely followed by his mentor. York gathers him in hug, patting his back gently, "Going to miss you kid. Take care." And with that he pushes a small box into Blaine's hands and steps out, the door sliding closed with a click.

Crippet barely has time to lead Blaine into the main room before the train lurches forward, flying into the distance, and Blaine can barely comprehend that with every heartbeat and every passing second, he is getting closer to District 1.

Closer to Kurt. 

Closer to home.

 He looks into the room, the familiarity of it shattering his reality. It felt like he was here years ago. It looks same. There's that small piano in corner where he had sang of home, and sang with a small girl with wispy blonde hair. There's that couch, where he had pulled Lizzie into his arms, craving the feeling of safety. There's where she had quoted a famous book and had nicknamed their district escort.

Memories, crazy memories that belonged to a different lifetime, to an entirely different person. He wished he could turn back time to when this never had happened, a time where this room and the people who walked in it weren't a reality. Back to before his name was read off a small slip of paper, echoed across a crowded square. Back to before he had heard the love of his life scream his name and cry. Back to before he had waited in a small room and made a promise he never believed he would keep.

He wanted to turn back time to where he was in a meadow with tall grasses and little flowers and a tall strong tree against his back. Back to a guitar smoothed by generations of hands and chocolate cookies and stolen kisses as the sun sank past the horizon.

What a crazy story.

A story of a boy with hazel eyes and a bloody alarm clock that rang at the most inconvenient times. A story of a boy who loved an old broken bike that was being abused by his boyfriend. A story of a boy who loved another.

It's hard to believe that that romantic silly story included that same boy being stolen away and forced to fight to the death. To cry. To shout. To kill. To come out as pieces of the person he once was.

Who would want to read such a story?

How could it have a happy ending?

Blaine could barely comprehend anything, lost in thought as Crippet tugs him lightly into his compartment, pushing him onto the bed and unlacing his shoes.

"Go to sleep Blaine. You'll be home soon."

The door shuts behind her and Blaine feels likes he's drowning as his exhausted body pulls his mind into sleep.

***

 "Come on little songbird, let's give the crowd something to cheer about."

 "Oh and look, our little songbird remembered how to sing."

Kurt needs me to come home. I can't keep my promise.

She has blue eyes. Not another, please, not another-

Blaine shoots up, a scream caught in the back of his throat. He breathes heavily, trying to slow the beating of his heart that is racing in his chest. Sweat drips over his face and his chest heaves up and down.

He sits frozen for a minute before gently laying back against the pillows, wincing as his still unhealed muscles stretch and slide.

"Blaine? Why were you screaming?" Crippet rushes in to his bedside, a look of concern etched across her face. "Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

Blaine shakes his head slowly, the movement making him wince.

"You're still in pain aren't you? Well, I can't give you any more medicine so you'll just have to get some rest and sleep it off when you get home. We're almost there. I was just about to come and get you."

She helps him slowly out of the bed. He realizes that he is still dressed, his hair still stuck into that ridiculous gel helmet.

"You can change when you get home. Go wash up a little and then come to the main room. We'll be arriving in District 1 in a couple minutes."

Blaine moves away and stumbles into the bathroom, splashing water onto his face. He looks into the mirror and is shocked by what he sees. He doesn't recognize this boy. The stranger in the mirror is handsome, and well groomed, seemingly perfect but for the dark circles under his dull eyes. He has no expression. It's just blank, nothing registering on that tanned, polished face.

Shaking his head a bit, Blaine straightens out his clothes and after grabbing the still unopened box from York, he walks out and joins Crippet in the room.

He sits and stares down at his hands that are nervously clasped on his lap. Seconds seem like minutes, and minutes seem like hours until finally the intercom buzzes to life, "Ladies and gentlemen, we have arrived to District 1. Please wait until the train is at a full stop before disembarking. Welcome home Mr. Anderson and congratulations." It buzzes back to silence.

Blaine stands, heart frozen in his chest.

"Here's where I say good bye." Crippet says quietly. "Now, you'll have trouble adjusting. Make sure you don't go out for a while, stay close to those you love. You'll need a lot of rest and lot of sleep so I've talked to your family to make sure they have everything ready for your arrival. Someone's going to have to be with you at all times, just in case you have a flashback. The nightmares are going to be bad at first, but you're a strong boy. You'll get through this."

Blaine nods and suddenly, before he can comprehend what his body's doing, he's pulling Crippet into a tight embrace, whispering a soft "Thank you" into her ear.

He feels the woman nod against him. "Just doing my job."

He actually smiles and looks into his mentor's icy eyes.

"Take care Anderson."

"You too Ms Crippet."

The train is stopping and then there are attendant rushing him to the exit, in front of the closed doors, the only barrier left between him and District 1.

"Oh and Anderson?"

Blaine turns back, looking over his shoulder at the woman that pulled him through the games. "Yes Ms Crippet?"

"I understand now. You are one who deserves to live."

"Why? Why me? Why not her?"

Crippet just smiles sadly at him. "Because you are you."

Blaine looks at her in confusion but suddenly he hears a click and spins to look at the doors. They are unlocking and beginning to slide open. He holds in a breath and the world erupts into color and sound.

There are cameras flashing and people cheering. He looks out in shock. Then suddenly he is being pulled down from the train and tight arms are shielding him from the crowd and into a group of Peacekeepers.

Blaine blinks in shock and looks at the person. "Cooper?"

"Hey Blaine." Cooper Anderson smiles and pulls him into a tight hug. "Welcome home."

Blaine doesn't reply, he just stands in his brother's arms, feeling cocooned warmth, being shielded from the roaring crowds. Then his brother is moving, pulling his brother with him, keeping him shielded as much as he can from the cameras and cheering crowds with his body, tightly wrapping his arm over his brother's shaking shoulders.

Ignoring the pain of their quick movement, Blaine just stumbles along, leaning on his brother for support. It's all surreal. He breathes in deeply, inhaling the smell of the chill winter air and the moist atmosphere of District 1.

Peacekeepers help the brothers through the crowd until they reach the small Anderson plot of land, which the Peacekeepers have fenced off. It all looks the same. The dirt roads. The small worn cottage, wisps of smoke rising from the chimney and tinting the breeze. There's his bike, leaning against a fence.

He lifts his head and sees two people running out of the house, towards them. Blaine's breath catches and Cooper releases him and suddenly he's in his mother's arms. She's crying softly and laughing, holding her boy close. He buries his face in her neck, breathing in her warm, familiar scent. Tear threaten to spill over, but they are trapped by some unseen force behind his eyes. He closes them softly, just holding his mother tightly.

"My boy. My darling boy" She whispers softly, "You're back. You're home."

It feels like a dream. Blaine grips her tighter, fearing that she might slip away and he might wake up from this beautiful illusion. Wanting to keep this seemingly impossible moment in his reality. "I told you I wouldn't be gone forever." He mutters.

She just nods, stroking his back and hair, taking comfort from the feeling of her son against her. His knees weaken, and suddenly he is falling, but his family is there to catch him, and cradle him.

His father holds him from another side, his arms wrapped around his wife and youngest son. "I am so proud of you son. I knew you'd come home."

Blaine relaxes, breathing softly between his parents. He is aware of Cooper a few steps away, face turned away as he tries to wipe away the tears that are spilling down his face, but they fall faster than he can catch them. His shoulders shake, but he doesn't want to look weak in front of his brother.

"Coop?"

Cooper's voice cracks and he turns, "Yes Blaine?"

"Can you come please?"

Cooper kneels beside his family, and takes them in his arms. They all sit in comfort, Blaine held tightly between them.

The Anderson family was whole again.

They quiet, and pull away, and Cooper helps Blaine to his feet. Mr. Anderson bites his lips as he takes in the look of discomfort that flashes across Blaine's features. His son looks around, and then asks, "Where's Kurt?"

"Oh sweetheart." Mrs. Anderson wraps her arms around her son, leading him inside the little cottage. "He's at home. It isn't safe for him to be here with all the cameras. We didn't want him to be involved. He'll be here once night falls."

"What about curfew?"

"The Peacekeepers have made an exception. They're actually the ones bringing him."

Blaine nods, understanding. He wants Kurt to be safe. He didn't want Kurt's beautiful face plastered all over Panem. His eyes threaten to drop closed, tiredness taking over him. Too much feeling, too much emotion, too much for his body to handle.

Cooper helps him into his room, setting his brother lightly on the bed. Mrs. Anderson pulls off his shoes and tucks him in, brushing her lips across his forehead.

"You can wash up later. For, now, just rest."

"Kurt?" He whispers drowsily.

"Shhh you'll see him in a few hours. Just sleep now baby boy."

Blaine curls up in the sheets, and his family steps out, softly shutting the door behind them. He rolls on his back, and stares up at the cracked ceiling as he always did, watching the small hole filter shafts of sunlight into the small room. He gazes at the dust motes as they spin and dance in the air, and lets himself fall asleep.

*******

Kurt slips out into the night, Peacekeepers guiding him through the unlit streets. The mud squelches underneath his feet, and his heart thuds loudly.

Blaine was here.

He was going to see Blaine.

The Peacekeepers, their white uniforms almost glowing in the dark night, allow him through the barricade they have set up around the small Anderson property. The District was going to move the family to the Victor's Village as soon as its construction was completed in a few months. No one believed that District 1 was going to have a victor so soon.

He walks up to the door, and knocks lightly. Mrs. Anderson was instantly there to answer it and gather Kurt up in her arms.

"How is he?" He asks quietly.

"Better once he sees you."

She lets go of her son's boyfriend, and then Mr. Anderson is there, holding his hand out. Kurt shakes it firmly, looking up into the man's hazel eyes.

"I'll take you to him." Mr. Anderson says and Kurt follows Blaine's father to the door of his room.

"You can stay all night if you want. Stay as much as you can. As long as you...You know... Don't do anything inappropriate. I know you won't take advantage of Blaine in this state, but you know, I have to remind you anyway."

"Thank you Mr. Anderson."

"No. Thank you Kurt. I know we've had our problems but I owe you so much. You're the reason I have my son back. Thank you."

"It wasn't me. It was all him."

Mr. Anderson nods, eyes softening as he gazes at the door. "But you gave him the courage he needed to keep going Kurt. What you two have... I can't believe I didn't see it before... It's just magical. And he's-no we're so lucky to have you as part of this family."

Kurt looks at the man, stunned at the change. "Uh, it was my pleasure. I love him." He stutters out.

"I know you do. And he loves you too. Now go in, he'll be happy to see you."

Kurt doesn't need to be told twice. Suddenly, he's pushing the door open and shutting it behind him, stepping softly into the room.

There he is.

Curled up in the sheets, breathing lightly in quiet puffs.

There's Blaine.

Kurt's heart freezes and he moves nearer, kneeling beside Blaine's bed. He's so close he could touch him. But he's afraid he'll flicker away.

He's afraid he isn't real.

He watches Blaine for minute, heart catching and stuttering, tripping over its own beats.

He's so beautiful.

Kurt traces every memorized feature as if seeing the boy for the first time. The dark brush of his thick lashes over his cheeks, the soft curve of his rosy lips, the tan of his silky skin.

He moves his shaking hand to Blaine's cheek, brushing it softly. Blaine stirs and Kurt watches as his eyelashes flutter open, hazel eyes widening in surprise as they take in the other boy.

"Kurt" He breathes.

Kurt swallows thickly, voice cracking, a single tear slipping down his porcelain cheek. "Hello Blaine."