Your Heart Outside Your Body (2/10)
Chapter 2: The Capitol
Chapter 1: The Reaping
The sound of the wheels on the train track was louder than Finn had thought it would be. He stood inside the car, not moving from his spot as the train lurched into motion.
"Finn. Go in," Kurt ordered. "We're already on the train. Not moving isn't going to change that."
Awareness jolted back to him. "Right. Sorry." Not moving hadn't been any sort of protest. Just a reaction. He moved into the car, Kurt on his heels.
The parlor car was nice. A lot nicer than their apartment and worlds nicer than the room Finn had shared with his mother before she'd married Burt Hummel. The carpet was thick under their feet and the furniture was plush with deep red fabric and dark, polished wood. Kurt reached out a hand and touched a chair reverently, shivering as his fingers trailed over the soft velvet. Outside a huge plate glass window, District 8 rushed by them.
"Finn. Kurt. Which one is which?"
Julius Ramsey's voice was dark and deep, and it commanded an answer almost immediately. Something in Finn responded to that whether he wanted to or not. "I'm Finn."
Julius nodded and made a note on his pad. "And you two are… brothers?"
"Stepbrothers," Finn answered. "His dad married my mom nine months ago."
"I see. And your other natural parents?"
"My dad died in an accident at the cotton mill when I was a baby," Finn said.
"My mother starved to death when I was eight." Kurt's voice was cold.
Julius looked up. "No she didn't," he said. "She died of pneumonia."
"You weren't there. I was. She died of starvation."
"She died of pnuemonia." It was a command. "Remember that I am in a position to make what's left of your life very uncomfortable for you." Kurt looked mutinous, but he didn't argue. Finn was glad of that. "Are you two close?"
"Huh?"
"I dislike having to repeat myself," Julius said. "Are you two close?"
"Oh! Um, yeah. I guess." Finn looked at Kurt and shrugged. "We've known each other for a few years and all, and we were friends in glee and everything." He figured it was best to leave out some of the other stuff.
"That's something, at any rate. Not much, but something." The parlor door opened, and Julius looked over his shoulder. "This is your mentor, Sue Sylvester."
"Has anyone ever told you that the reflection off your head could blind people as far away as District 12?" Sue asked Julius. "Seriously. It's positively mesmerizing. I'm convinced you use furniture polish on it."
Julius frowned. "Right. I'm going to go check on the girls. Good luck." He left the compartment.
"Well now, isn't this nice?" Sue said, arms crossed, surveying Finn and Kurt. "All nice and cozy and personal, just the three of us. Why don't you have a seat?"
Finn sat down tentatively in one of the chairs. When it didn't explode or something, he sat back. It was comfortable, and he hadn't realized until he sat how hard his legs were shaking. After a deliberate pause, Kurt did the same.
Sue circled them, studying them like a vulture eyeing up a dying animal. "All right. Let's talk. Do you two have anything that might be useful at all?"
"Um…"
"Okay, I'll take that as a no from you, Lurch. What about you, Ladyface?"
"I have no idea. I've never killed a person before in my life," Kurt answered.
"You think any of these other poor bastards have?" Sue demanded, and then frowned. "Well, maybe some of the Careers have. But that's not all I'm talking about. Can either of you use a weapon?" They both shook their heads. "Hunt?" Another no. "Do you know the first thing about surviving in the wilderness?"
"Don’t wipe with poison ivy?" Finn asked, trying to inject a little humor into a situation that was looking more and more dire with every word their mentor spoke.
Sue didn't laugh, although Kurt cracked a smile. That caught her interest. "You think he's funny." It wasn't a question.
Kurt shrugged and turned a little red. "He can be."
"And you?" Sue asked. "You get along with Kurt?"
"Well, yeah. He's my brother now, and he's…."
"He's what?" Sue asked, her expression sharpening.
Finn shrugged. "He's got guts," he said, thinking of all the times Kurt had stood up to people in their school. "And he's got goals."
Sue nodded. "And what about you?" she asked, whirling on Kurt. "Is this a mutual adoration society or do you just revel in the admiration of lesser beings?"
"Normally I'd say the second, but I do lo- I do like Finn."
Love. Finn wasn't sure if he should act like he'd heard that or not. Kurt was staring straight ahead, pointedly not looking at him.
"Hmmm." Sue drummed her fingers. "Let me break it down for you, boys. The chances of either one of you getting out of that arena alive are slim to none. They'd be a little better in a normal year, but with the field of tributes being extended, between the two of you you've got a fraction of a chance of getting out. The way I see it, you two have got one option.
"You're not that strong. You're not that fast. Hell, you're not even particularly smart, not when it comes to what you're going to need to know in the arena. But you two have got something the others don't have, and that's a built in alliance. You trust each other. That's gives you two things: one, someone to work with, and two, a pre-made story line that I can work with to get you sponsors. The fact that you two are brothers is your only hope."
"But only one of us can win," Kurt said. "That means-"
"The only way that means anything," Sue interrupted, "is if it comes down to the two of you and no one else. You think that's going to happen?"
"It could," Finn said.
"I'll ask you that again after you've seen the other tributes. It's not going to happen. If you work together, you might be able to get one of you home to your parents. That's the best I can offer you right now. But I guarantee you that if you two split up, you'll be dead the first day of the Games. Both of you."
Finn shrugged. As far as things they could be asked to do, allying with Kurt was a pretty easy one. "Okay," he said, shrugging.
"I could think of worse things," Kurt agreed.
"Well, good. I'm glad we had this talk." Sue slapped her hands down on the arms of her chair. "Now get out of here while I plan strategy."
They obeyed, heading deeper in the train and down a short hall. They found two doors, one marked with Kurt and the other with Finn. "Guess these are our rooms," Kurt said.
Finn stared at his door. "I've never had a room to myself before."
"A little bit off luxury before we shuffle off the mortal coil."
"Don't pretend you of all people aren't enjoying it."
"I'd enjoy it more if I wasn't about to be butchered," Kurt said sarcastically. "Although I'm sure the cattle don't get fancy trains and velvet chairs before they're slaughtered."
"Nice," Finn said, just as sarcastically. He hesitated with his hand on the doorknob. "Kurt? About us working together. Do you think it's a good idea?"
"I think it's the only idea," Kurt said. "Do you think we have a chance otherwise?"
"No. I don't even think we have a chance together. There's forty-six other kids."
Kurt pressed his lips together. "I know."
"So we'll do this together?" Finn held out his hand.
Kurt took it. "Together."
***
It wasn’t quite hopeless. Almost hopeless, but not completely.
Sue had seen the two boys around school. Finn wasn't anything special academically and was headed for the mills or the factories, that much was obvious. He was tall though, and probably fairly strong. Athletically inclined, although not especially coordinated. Not that that mattered- he didn't have time to learn anything fancy. But his strength probably wasn't going to be enough.
Kurt wasn't going to have that same physical strength, although at least he wasn't a twelve-year-old whelp. Kurt's advantage was going to be his brain. But brains weren't enough… there had to be a willingness to do what your brain told you, too. You couldn't win the Hunger Games by being nice, that was for sure. He probably had the brains, but he didn't necessarily have the steel.
The idea of them teaming up was the best she could do. With this many tributes, gifts from sponsors were going to be even harder to get. If they made an alliance early, they could share whatever she managed to wrangle them. It would help, but not enough. Because in the end, they couldn't both live. If one was going to get out, she'd have to put all her support behind that boy. In the end, she was going to have to make a choice.
***
Even though the shades were drawn, the sun seeped through and woke Kurt up. He groaned, turning over on the bed. The mattress didn't sag under his weight and no springs squealed when he dared to move. The sheets were soft like nothing he'd ever known, and the comforter was plush and warm. He wished he didn't have to get up.
Then he remembered where he was and what was happening today, and he was torn between getting up immediately and hiding under the covers and never, ever coming out.
His stomach rumbled, and remembering the meal they'd been served last night, he got out of bed. He stepped into the bathroom- tiny, he supposed, but still infinitely nicer than the one at home- and took a shower. They had a shower at home, a faucet set above their heads that had hot water either between five and six in the morning or eight and nine at night. It was a mild luxury. But this shower, with the spray of warm water and the richly scented soap, made Kurt realize just how primitive his bathroom at home really was.
Then there were the clothes that were in the drawers. Kurt liked to think he understood fashion and clothing design, but just a look at a few of these outfits told him he had so much more to learn. He worked his way through the clothing in the drawers, finally deciding on a red shirt and a pair of black pants, along with a black tie and some strappy contraption. He took his time getting his hair into place, and then stepped out into the hall, following his nose down to the dining car.
The girls were staying and eating in another car with their mentors, so the only people at the table were Finn, Sue, and Julius. Kurt was more interested in the plate of rolls that was in the center of the table. They smelled sweet and absolutely heavenly. Finn was steadily demolishing a plate of food, and Kurt couldn't blame him in the least. At least they would die well fed. He sat down and began to eat.
"We're coming into the Capitol soon," Julius said, breaking the long silence. "Get ready."
Kurt finished mopping up the last of his breakfast with one of the rolls, and then switched chairs so he could look out the window and watch. After all, this was going to be his one chance to see the Capitol with his own eyes.
As they rolled into the Capitol, Kurt's eyes got bigger and bigger. District 8 had buildings, but even the nicest buildings in the District looked like rat traps next to the buildings of the Capitol. These were bright, beautiful colors with fantastic designs. Swirls and turrets and neat streets and everything clean and repaired…
"Dude, you've got your nose pressed to the glass," Finn laughed. "If you keep that up, you're going to fog it up and you won't be able to see anything."
"It's amazing," Kurt breathed, his eyes darting from building to building. And the people. He'd only ever seen Capitol people on television before. Their outfits and their alterations were just amazing. He wished he had the time and the money to have that sort of creativity. He was very aware of his plain skin and the flaws in his face, and the outfit he was wearing- while nicer than any piece of clothing he'd ever owned- seemed plain and boring now. "Wouldn't it be amazing to live in a place like this?"
Finn was quiet for a long moment. "It would be something, all right," he said.
"Just to be able to think about something besides food and work," Kurt sighed. "To be able to think about something besides just staying alive. If I lived here, I could actually design. I'd be able to work with any fabric I wanted and do some things that are really daring and wild. I could really make a name for myself."
"You'd want to do that?" Finn asked, his voice measured.
Kurt's attention was still on the scene outside. People were waving excitedly to their train now, jumping up and down. Like they were people to be admired. Like they were celebrities. He didn't answer Finn's question, just waved back. Then he remembered why they were waving, and dropped his hand, sitting on it. But he couldn't look away as this other life rolled by his eyes.
Finn snorted and turned away from the window, throwing himself down into a chair and slumping. He crossed his arms and glared and nothing. Kurt stayed glued to the window.
***
"I wonder what they're doing right now," Carole said, pouring a weak tea into the cracked mug she used. She sipped the scalding liquid delicately, looking at Burt and waiting for his answer.
Burt just sat at the table, staring at nothing.
"The opening ceremonies are on tonight," Carole tried. "At least we can see them." See them all trussed up and dressed for slaughter. She pushed that thought down as hard as she could. If she let those sorts of things into her mind, she'd never get through this. Never.
"Burt," she said, laying her hand over his, "talk to me. Yell at me, cry… do something. But don't just sit there and pull away. Please."
"I can't," he said, his voice hoarse. "I can't talk about it. About Kurt in that place… and Finn… just waiting to… Carole, I can't."
"Then talk about something else," Carole begged. "Tell me about the factory today. Rage about the idiots who can't keep their machines oiled, or the foreman, or something. Please, Burt." I'm losing Finn. Don't make me lose you, too.
There was a knock on the door. Both of them started with surprise, and after a minute, Burt got up to answer it. He pulled back as he took in their visitors.
"Mr. H." Puck was standing in the door, his customary smirk gone. He looked beyond Burt and caught Carole's eye. "Hey, Mrs. H."
Mercedes was standing next to Puck. The two of them weren't all that close, as far as Carole knew, but common bonds and common grief would do a lot. "We brought something for you," Mercedes said, holding up a covered pot. "Dinner."
"Come in. Please," Carole said.
"Yeah. Come on in." Burt finally stepped aside and let them in.
"Would you like some tea?" Carole offered, desperate for something to break the heavy silence that had ruled the apartment since the boys had been taken.
"We really shouldn't stay," Mercedes began, and then broke off when she saw the look on Carole's face. "All right," she said. "Thank you."
Silence settled over them all again. Mercedes sat neatly, obviously self-conscious of her posture and her manners. Puck was scowling, angry and brooding. Carole cast around desperately for some- any- subject of conversation.
"How was school today?" she finally asked.
Puck and Mercedes exchanged glances. "Weird," Mercedes said. "Everyone's quiet."
"Everyone's pissed off," Puck corrected her.
"It's always like that after a reaping, but…."
"But it's never been someone we're friends with," Puck finished for her. Mercedes looked like she was on the verge of tears, Puck looked like he was on the verge of putting his fist through a wall.
"This isn't helping you to hear it," Mercedes said. "I'm sorry. We wanted to come over and do something to help, but…."
But they were two kids losing their best friends. Carole didn't think her heart could break any more, but apparently, she was wrong. "Stay for the day," she suggested. "Watch the opening ceremonies with us. It won't be easy for any of us no matter where we do it, so we might as well do it together."
***
"This is Raven," Julius said. "He will be your stylist."
Finn was already in a bad mood. The prep team had been absolutely awful. Finn knew he wasn't as concerned with his appearance as Kurt, but he got hygiene. Before they'd moved in with Burt and Kurt he'd taken a bath twice a week, just like every resident of District 8, and now he got the luxury of having a shower once day. He used soap and he shaved, and he knew he was a decent looking guy. But apparently that just meant he was "raw material", ready for soaking and stripping and doing other weird things to. Even Kurt's patience had been stretched by the end, and Kurt had started out enjoying the treatments.
Now, the two of them stood naked in the room as a man with black hair, black clothing, and black tattoos around his eyes circled them predatorily. Kurt shivered and tried to cross his arms, but Raven slapped them down.
"No," he snapped. "You're breaking up the lines. I need to see."
Finn glanced at Kurt from the corner of his eye. There was a time when being naked in the same room with Kurt would have been distinctly uncomfortable, but Finn had been forced to get over that living in their apartment together. Now it was worse than uncomfortable again, but for extremely different reasons.
"Well," Raven finally sighed, "it's workable. You're both moderately attractive boys, at least. I can work with that. Far better than the troll I got last year. Or even your other tribute there. I would be utterly lost if I had to work with her." He shook his head dramatically. "I think we're going to have to play up the physical angle, though."
"What's that mean?" Finn asked suspiciously.
Raven grinned. Finn didn't like that grin at all.
***
By the time the opening ceremonies started, the Hudson-Hummel apartment was full. Over half of New Directions and Will Schuester, had shown up, and several neighbors as well. There was a buffet of food that people had brought, including the stew Mercedes had given them, real bread, a bowl of woody apples, and a cake. Cake. The last time Burt had had cake had been when he and Carole got married, but before that, it had been when Kurt had turned thirteen. Cake was a rarity in District 8.
"It's starting!" one of the kids announced, and everyone quieted down. They didn't have much furniture in the apartment, but Burt and Carole were given the seats of honor on the old, broken-down couch. Everyone else sat on the kitchen chairs or the bare wooden floor as they crowded around the small flickering television.
Caesar Flickerman's trademark grin filled the screen. The color changed every year, and this year it was green. Burt had always hated watching the Games, but this year Flickerman's green smile seemed even worse to him. Bloody. Treating these kids like they were people of value, when all the Capitol saw them as were animals to die for their cheap entertainment. He wished he could throw something at the screen.
They began to parade out the tributes. "I wonder how they're going to have them dressed," Mercedes said. "Kurt's either going to finally get an amazing outfit or live out his worst fears."
The opening ceremonies were always a bit of a blur, with twenty-four new faces being introduced. This year they were even more hurried, with forty-eight. "The costumes aren't as nice this year," Burt's neighbor Ken noted with a frown as the camera zoomed in on the tributes from District 7. The one girl was wearing a gold dress that suited her well, but the others were wearing costumes that either were tree-related or just… badly fitted? Didn't flatter? Kurt would know if he was here.
But Kurt wasn't here- he was there in that city. And in just a minute he'd be trotted out on that chariot to-
"Oh, no." Carole covered her face with her hands.
Burt put an arm around her shoulders. He wanted to look away, but his eyes stayed locked on the screen. There were the tributes from District 8. The girls weren't too bad. The little one was drowning in a huge gown made of some opulent fabric, and the older girl was looking very nice in a suit that was dyed with beautiful patterns. Beside them, Kurt and Finn looked even more miserable, wearing nothing but strategically placed wisps of cotton. The wisps were sculpted and shaped, but they still covered very little. Their embarrassment radiated off of them, and when the camera zoomed in on their faces, Burt could see the bright red spots on Finn's cheeks and the unshed tears in Kurt's eyes. They were laughingstocks, and they knew it.
The camera cut to the faces of the crowd for the reactions. Burt found himself holding his breath. Some of the audience was laughing, some looked bored, and some… here and there he saw lust. Both boys were good-looking, and to their stylist's credit, their costumes highlighted that. It made Burt sick that he was glad to see people noticing. Because laughter and boredom didn't inspire sponsors' gifts, but lust did, and a sponsor might make the difference between life and death.
The cameras moved on, and Finn and Kurt were off the screen, although occasionally they could be seen in the background. Burt fell back against the couch.
"You okay?" Schuester asked him.
"I'm surviving," Burt answered, moping his face. It was wet. "You think they've got a chance?"
Schuester shrugged. "There's always a chance," he said, trying to sound consoling. "Some of the most unlikely tributes have won in the past."
It didn't help. Even if Kurt had to die, Burt wished he could be there tonight when his son came in from the ceremonies upset and ranting and humiliated, just to be able to comfort him. But unless Kurt won, Burt would never be able to say another word to him, never be able to hug him, never be able to so much as touch his hand when he was scared, alone, or hurting. It was the worst time of his child's life, and all Burt could do was watch. He started to shake, holding back the tears that were constantly lurking ever since that damn reaping ceremony.
He had no idea how they were going to get through this. No idea at all.
***
"It was a disaster!" Kurt shouted, pulling on a robe that Julius handed him once they were off their chariot. "We were out there practically naked!"
"You think I like it any better than you do?" Finn shouted back, snatching his own robe from Julius' hands without so much as looking at him. "I was right there with you, wearing the same damn cotton… things!"
The other tributes were starting to stare at them. Not starting to, Kurt realized. They'd been staring all night. Just staring more openly. He tied his robe tighter and straightened his back. 'There is no way," he said, jerking the sash in his hands, "that we are ever going to get sponsors. Not after that."
"Pipe down, Pearhips." Sue was striding towards them. "I know you two feel like a pair of idiots, which is good, because you are. But it's not as bad as you think."
"We were pretty much naked out there!" Finn said, gesturing angrily towards the door their chariot had just come in. "It is as bad as we think!"
"You think that was hard?" Sue demanded. "Try wearing a bikini made out of needles to represent the cloth industry- that's hard. I couldn't put my arms down by my sides without looking like a morphling addict." She drew closer. "Now, listen. They might not have been the best costumes out there, but you made it through without making complete fools of yourself, all right?" She handed Finn his robe. "Get this on. We need to head on up to the rooms in the Training Tower."
"We have separate rooms again?" Finn asked.
"Unless you want to listen to Fancy here snoring all night."
"Do you realize that's the sixth nickname you've given me?" Kurt said.
"Eh, it's easier than actually remembering your name," Sue said, flipping a hand. "Let's go."
The Training Tower was just as opulent and lush as everything else had been. The girls and their mentors had come to join them, and the entire group stood silent and awkward.
"Floor eight," Julius said when they all piled into the elevator. The door slid shut. Kurt hazarded a peek at his fellow tributes. The little girl was shaking, but the older one smiled at him. Tentatively, but she smiled. He tried to smile back, but his mouth wouldn't work. She scowled and turned to face the front.
"These are the rooms," Julius said, obviously eager to get his charges to bed and be done for the night. "Celia, you're there, and Emily, you're there." Kurt started. It was the first time he'd really registered the girls' names. "Finn, that one's yours, and Kurt, you're there. Go get cleaned up before dinner."
Finn hesitated at the door of his room, giving Kurt a weird little smile before he opened it and disappeared in. Kurt stared at his closed door for a minute, and then shrugged and went into his own quarters. When he entered, his mouth fell open.
Every possible luxury he could want. A huge, soft, bed, any food he wanted, a bathroom the size of the big room in their apartment, and a closet full of clothing. For a moment, all he could do was stare. If he was back in District 8, it would be almost every dream he ever had come true. His feet began to move and Kurt was drawn to the closet where he began playing with the buttons, watching as the racks of clothing swirled and brought out choices. There were more styles than he'd imagined, with bright, rich colors and details that he'd only heard about.
He was still absorbed with the clothing when someone knocked at his door. "Come in," he said, unable to tear his eyes away. It took a long moment before he looked to see who had entered, and when he finally did, he saw Sue Sylvester watching him. Her arms were crossed and she wore a scowl, but for just a moment he thought he saw sadness in her eyes. But it must have been a trick of the light, because when she spoke, her voice sounded the same as ever.
"Well, Porcelain, glad I didn't find you in the shower, although good lord, do you need one. But I think that sight might have burned my retinas, and that would have been unfortunate for you."
"That's encouraging, after we made our big debut naked."
Sue shrugged. "You only pulled it off so well because your brother was standing next to you and people were looking at you as a unit," she said. "Which, incidentally, is exactly what I want to talk to you about." She sat down on a couch and gestured to the chair across from her. "Sit." Kurt obeyed, wrapping the folds of his robe around him. "Now," Sue said, "you know the deal. Only one of the two of you can come home."
"I know," Kurt said, and his mouth felt very dry as he spoke. "But I thought… the brother act."
"The brother act is only going to get you so far," Sue said. "After a while, people are going to get bored with it. You can pull it off for a few days, a week tops. But there's more to it than that."
"More to it?"
"I've talked to you and I've talked to Finn, and unless either of you is holding out on me, you guys have pretty much got nothing."
"So you've told us."
Sue ignored him. "The one of you that's going to live is going to have to be positively ruthless," she said, leaning her elbows on her knees and getting closer. "Not just with the others, but with each other. You're not going to have to kill him, most likely. But you're going to have to stand by and let someone else do the job."
Kurt's hands twisted in the fabric of his robe. "I-"
"Listen. There's going to come a time when you'll have to break the alliance, and I want you to start thinking about that now. I want you to start getting ready for it, to start preparing for it. Because if you ever want to go home again, or even better, if you want to get out of here and pack up your parents and try to move to the victor's houses-" Kurt's breath caught at that- "then you're going to have to sacrifice Finn. It's not fair, and it's not right, and believe me, I already know that so don't try to tell me. I'm telling you, if you want to win, that's what you have to do."
"Are you telling Finn this, too?"
Sue sighed and shook her head. "I can only bet on one of you, Porcelain. I can only get one of you out, and if I spread my resources too thin, neither of you will. Lurch there has got the strength, but not so much that it beats out your brains. And don't ever, ever underestimate what brains can do in the Hunger Games. You're the smart one. You're the one that might be able to win."
Win. Kurt hadn't really thought of that. Winning the Hunger Games was a big honor, and it came with huge rewards, but ever since his name had been called, he hadn't really thought of it. He'd been thinking just that winning the Hunger Games really just meant you got to get out alive. But winning. "You really think I can win?"
"I don't know about that," Sue said. "But what I do know is that you'll need Finn for a while. And then the time is going to come to take what you've gotten from him, dispose of him, and take off on your own. It's the smartest thing to do, and by that point, the cows in the Capitol will be so blood-crazed that your betrayal will be seen as brilliant and ruthless, not the shitty act you're about to tell me it is. You do that, and you'll prove you've got the mettle to go all away. Your sponsorships will go up, you'll get more gifts, and you'll have the Capitol eating out of your hand. At that point they don't want sweet little ingenues- they want smart. Strong. Sexy. You got it?"
"But what if I don't?" Kurt asked.
Sue shrugged. "Enjoy being dead." She stood up and clapped him on the shoulder. "See you at dinner, Lady."
Kurt sat frozen in the chair. What appalled him wasn't that Sue had this strategy, or that she'd told him, or that he'd have to have a hand in Finn's death to win the Games. That was awful enough, but it wasn't what made the blood pound in his ears like this. No, what really appalled him was the realization that he just might do it.
Chapter 3: The Training