A Supernatural Hunger Games (Supernatural/Hunger Games Fan Fiction)

Chapter 3

The anthem ended and Dean and Castiel were escorted by a group of peacekeepers into the Justice building. Once inside, Dean was brought into a room and left alone. His eyes ran over the rich contents of the room. To his left was a velvet couch and a few chairs, and beneath him was thick, deep coloured carpet. He ran his fingertips over the velvet as he tried to mentally prepare himself for what was to come next. The next hour was given to the tributes to say goodbye to their loved ones. Dean inhaled deeply. He knew crying was not an option.

His brother and father came first. Dean reached out to Sam, and Sam quickly embarrassed Dean in a hug. His father stood next to them, awkwardly. For a little bit, nobody talked, nobody moved. Then Dean began to tell them all the things they need to remember to do, as Dean won't be there to remind them anymore.

Sam was to not take any Tesserae. They could get by on selling milk and cheese from Sam's goat, if they're careful. Lisa could get them the herbs that Sam did not already grow, but he must be careful to describe them because Lisa didn't know herbs as well as Dean did. She would also bring them game, and would probably not ask for compensation but they should give her some milk or cheese in return.

Dean didn't suggest Sam learn how to hunt. He wanted to keep Sam away from that life as much as possible. He had tried to take Sam a couple times, but he kept telling Dean that they could save it and he could let it live.

When Dean was done with instructions of fuel and trading and staying in school, he turned to his dad and gripped his shoulder tightly. "Listen to me. You need to stop drinking and start acting like a father again." A flash of anger flared in his father's eyes, but then diminished. He took a deep breath and looked at his son.

"I know. I'll try-" His eyes strayed towards the floor.

"No trying. You will. There'll be no me to support both of you this time. It doesn't matter what happens. It doesn't matter what you see on the screen. You have to promise me you'll fight through it!" Dean's voice rose to a yell. His father pulled his shoulder from Dean's grip, his anger beginning to rise. "You have to take care of him!"

"Dean," Sam interjected. "It'll be alright. You're brave and strong. Maybe you can win this." Dean knew he couldn't win. And somewhere in Sam's heart, he must have known too.

"Maybe," Dean said. He had to pretend he hadn't already given up, to show his dad not to give up either. Besides, it wasn't in Dean's nature not to go down without a fight. "Then we'll be as rich as Bobby."

"I don't care about being rich. I just want you to come home. You have to try, Dean. Really really try," Sam said.

"I will," Dean promised. And because of Sam, he know he really will have to try.

Then the Peacekeeper was at the door, signaling their time was up. Sam hugged Dean so hard it hurt. "I love you," Dean told Sam, and then they were taken away. Dean collapsed in a velvet chair and covered his face with a pillow.

Someone else entered the room. Dean removed the pillow from his face and was surprised to see the pastor, Castiel's father, standing in front of him. Why would he have come to visit Dean? They did know each other a bit, but he knew Sam better. Sam and Dean would trade with them sometimes, but would always wait until the wife was gone, because the pastor was much nicer. Dean felt certain he would never hit his son the way Dean saw his wife did. Why why had he come to see Dean?

The pastor sat awkwardly on the edge of a plush chair. They sat in silence, the pastors eyes watching Dean heavily. Then the Peacekeeper summoned him. "I'll watch over your brother and make sure he eats," he said at last, as he left the room. Dean felt a small amount of pressure rise from his chest at the pastor's words. People seemed to be fond of Sam. Maybe that fondness would help keep him alive.