The PokéGames (A Pokémon/Hunger Games Crossover Fan Fiction)

Chapter 9: The Negotiation

AN: please try to bear with me through the whining about Claire. It sucks. I know. Sorry.

After taking a few deep breaths, I realized how much I was acting like a whiny teenager. But it was for good reason. I had to have Claire on my team.

A few minutes later, there was a quiet knock on my door. I lifted my head and saw Dessi tiptoeing through the door with a tray of food.

"I figured you were hungry. After a full day of training, and facing two more, a girl needs to eat! And I definitely brought you more than enough." She held the tray out, offering it to me. She was even attempting to smile, a strained, unnatural looking thing for her already stretched skin to do.

"Thanks, Dessi," I smiled at her, then sat up on the edge of the bed to set the tray in my lap. "It's just been stressful."

"Of course, dear, I completely understand." she sat next to me, and, in a slightly awkward manner, put a comforting hand on my shoulder. "I can't even imagine what it would be like to be in your place. The unfathomable worry and stress... It would be too much for me to handle either." The words were right, but the emotion slightly less than it should have been.

"Yeah... I just try not to think too much about why I'm here, what I'm training for, that sort of thing. Just to focus on the now. But it's getting too hard."

"Well, if you ever feel the need to talk, or if you ever need anything, Professor Flint and I are always here for you."

I almost laughed. Flint had no clue what he was talking about half the time. He had never done this before, he had no experience. Then again, I didn't either.

"Thanks, Dessi. I appreciate it."

"Good," she chirped, her snobby personality showing through once more. She stood and quickly ducked out of the room, as if trying to get away before she had to be any more sympathetic than she already had been.

I picked the tray up, and scooched myself back on the bed so that I could lean against the headboard. I curled my knees in, and placed the tray on top of them.

As I began to nibble on some rice cakes, I tried not to think about the games. So, my mind wandered to my family. The last time I saw them, which was the morning of the reaping, felt like a lifetime ago. I hoped that Mom was staying strong for Kyle and Lily. I knew that Paul would, because that's what we did, he and I, after Dad died. We stayed strong for the others. We taught ourselves how to hide our emotions and carry on, even when it seemed like nothing would ever be okay again. I guessed that all of that time hiding my emotions was why I could handle them now, being led into the Games.

The other thing that helped me stay strong was...

The journals!

I stopped eating, regret weighing down on my body, making me lose my appetite.

I had left them at home, under my pillow, not thinking for a second that I should have brought them with me to the woods that day.

I shoved the tray of food aside, unable to bear my stupidity.

How could I have left them there? Now I might never get to read them, to breathe in their musty scent, to feel the roughness of the pages, to trace the inky letters with my fingers, ever again.

And yet...

Dessi did say that if I ever needed something, she and Flint will be there for me...

Hope began to crawl into my stomach, a dangerous thing.

But they are something that I definitely need, more than anything.

The wonderfully deadly feeling started to climb up farther, with intent to get into my heart, but I tried to suppress it before it took over.