Promises of a Sacrificial Lamb |Destiel x The Hunger Games|

-4-

My father, always the tough guy in the family, manages to give me his hug without letting a tear fall.  I've known him my whole life, though, and I don't think I've ever seen his expression so pained.  He says he loves me, and I, of course, say it right back to him.

I have to try to win.  I can't stand the thought of this being our final farewell.  It's too heartbreaking.

Then the Peacekeepers are at the door, barking that the three minutes are up, and Sam is hugging me so tightly that it takes two of them to pry him off me and he's screaming again and I'm choking out desperate "I love you's" as my family is escorted out of the room for good.  When the door slams shut, sealing me in silence once more, all I want to do is cry and shriek my throat raw.

This can't be happening.  Why is this happening?

Charlie is the next person to enter the room.  I don't think I've been more relieved to see her.  She flings herself into my arms without saying a single word, and for a long while, that's how we remain.  Locked in a desperate embrace, her quivering with suppressed sobs and me fighting to keep them all back.  It hurts.  It hurts so badly, but I can't cry.  I can't.  I might never stop if I do.

When she finally releases me and takes a step back, her tear-stained face is still alight with a heartening smile.  "You've gotta be the coolest, bravest person I know, Winchester,"  she tells me, her voice soft and strained from crying.

Somehow, despite this horribly grim scenario we're in, we still manage to share a laugh together.

"You can do this,"  she goes on.  "You've worked in the fields for years.  You're strong, and you're smart, and you're quick.  You have a good chance at winning this thing."

"Since when has intelligence saved anyone from someone who knows how to throw knives?"

"You can figure it out.  Like I said, you're smart."  She smiles at me again, but I can't ignore the torment glimmering in her eyes.

There's not much else to say.  She promises to look after Sam and my family, if I promise her that I'll do everything in my power to win and come home.  Her side of the deal is much more attainable.

We spend our remaining time together in silence, holding one another close, savoring each possible second that we can, because far too soon, the door opens again and the Peacekeepers are dragging her out of the room.

"Don't forget that I love you, Dean!"  she calls out after me.  Just before the door shuts, I hear her voice one last time, exclaiming, "Platonically!"

Her absence already leaves a burning hole in my aching chest.

For a while, no one else comes into the room, and I'm thinking I might have a few fleeting moments to let out the tears that have been stinging in my eyes for what feels like an eon.  I barely have the chance to let one slip down my cheek before the door creaks open, and a young boy—old enough to be eligible for the reaping but definitely not my age—sheepishly shuffles into the room.  I don't quite recognize him.

He must notice the confused expression on my face.  He gives a faint smile, so feeble and weak that it's hardly there, and approaches me with silent, timid footsteps.  "You probably don't know me,"  he murmurs, struggling to lift his head and meet my eyes.  "My name's Gabriel.  I'm Castiel's brother."

Why is he visiting me then, I wonder?  I'm sure he already spoke with his brother, my fellow tribute in this awful ordeal, but why me?

"I don't wanna take up too much of your time, but I just wanted to tell you something,"  little Gabriel continues.  He draws a deep breath, and I find myself rather concerned about what he could possibly have to say to me.  "When I was a lot younger, my oldest brother was reaped.  He didn't come home, and it messed me up for years.  I still don't think I've gotten over it.  Not completely, at least."