Your Heart Outside Your Body (6/10)
Chapter 6: The Ally
Chapter 5: The Arena
Kurt woke up to sunshine on his face and extremely sore ribs. Moving was a chore, and he actually groaned as he tried to sit up.
"Hey? You okay?" Blaine hurried over. The sunshine filtered down through the canopy of leaves overhead, making the forest look like something out of an idyllic children's tale.
"I will be," Kurt said, although he had nothing to base that on. Just hope. "Is Finn still alive?"
"You can't hear the snores?" Blaine asked.
"Ugh. We should wake him up or he'll bring every tribute around down on us." Kurt got to his feet painfully. "How did I live with this the past nine months?"
Blaine laughed. "I'll get breakfast out," he suggested.
Kurt disappeared into the bushes for a bit, wishing he could wash his hands after. Even during the worst times in District 8 he could wash his hands after using the bathroom. But washing his hands in poison obviously wasn't a good idea, and their water was too precious to be wasted on such a luxury.
"I will never understand why there are people in the Capitol that think camping is fun," he said as he came back out, wiping his hands on his mud-soaked pants. "What's wrong?"
"The crackers," Blaine said, looking forlornly at their food supply. "They disintegrated in the rain."
"Oh." Kurt sighed heavily, and then went to wake Finn up. Finn came awake blurry-eyed and messy-haired, and for a moment, clearly didn't realize where he was. Kurt could see the precise moment that the memory crashed over him.
"Are we still alive?" Finn asked.
"Yes. Get up, sleeping beauty. It's time to start another exciting day."
"I hate you," Finn groaned, but he struggled to his feet. "I've got to- where should I-"
"Our full bathroom complete with a huge tub is over that way," Kurt said, giving Finn a little shove towards the bushes.
"Is he always this much of a morning person?" Blaine said as Kurt rejoined him. He dug through his pack. "Gray and I managed to get some jerky," he said. "You guys are welcome to some."
"Thanks." Kurt took a piece and two thin slices of cheese. It was a meager breakfast, but it was all they had. He munched on it as he waited for Finn to finish up. The jerky was tough, but flavorful. Even in the arena the food was better than District 8. He and Blaine sat cross-legged, eating in companionable silence.
"Okay," Finn said, joining them in their little clearing and looking much more awake. "Last night you said you had an idea." He sat down with the other two and picked up his portion. "What is it?"
Kurt took a deep breath. "I propose," he began slowly, "that we go back to the Cornucopia and steal food from the Careers."
Finn goggled at him. "You're insane."
"No, I'm not. That's the only supply of food that we're sure is safe," Kurt said. "Unless you want to test some of the berries that are around." Finn shook his head. "If we're going to do it, we have to strike now."
"Why now?" Finn asked. "Why not wait until the Career pack gets thinned out a little? There's like, twelve of them."
"Because we don't have any food. Just what we've got here. We'd be better doing it now while we still have strength rather than waiting."
Finn nodded grimly. "That makes sense. Yeah."
"Plus," Blaine said slowly, "there are still other tributes for the Careers to hunt. We're not a big threat yet. None of us got high training scores, or low ones. We're not dangers and we're not easy prey. Not to say they won't kill us if they come across us, but they're not looking for us yet."
Kurt looked at Blaine with increased respect. "True. And while they're hunting, there won't be twelve people at the camp. They'll all want the glory, so it will probably just be a few tributes guarding the camp."
Finn nodded. "Okay. I'm in. So how do we do it?"
"That I don't know," Kurt admitted. "We're going to need to sneak up on the Careers' camp and spy on them, figure out a strategy then."
"But they're camped out in the middle of the meadow, aren't they?"
"We'll have to do it at night, then," Kurt said. "They'll have to hunt sometime tonight- they always hunt the second night, before people catch on to how bad an idea lighting a fire is."
"That gives us the whole day to get closer and to plan," Finn said, sounding a little more cheerful. "And to rest up a bit."
They were going to take on the Careers. Kurt was kind of impressed with their own audacity. But at the same time, they might really have a shot. He smiled slowly. "We can do this."
***
The thing about Blaine, Kurt discovered very quickly, was he was just so easy to talk to. Partly because he was so open, but partly also because Kurt felt a connection to him.
"Did you know the other tributes from District 10?" Kurt asked as they walked along, the sunshine beating down pleasantly on them.
"Not really," Blaine said. "District 10 is pretty big." He was silent for a minute. "I know Wes, though."
"Well, yes. He's your mentor, right?"
"Not just like that." Blaine focused a little more carefully on his feet. "He was a year ahead of me in school, but we knew each other. We were both into music, and we sang together."
"Oh! Like a choir."
Blaine looked up, flashing a quick smile. "Like a choir," he agreed. "It was a boys' a capella group. We were good, too," he said with a wistful grin.
"I'll bet."
"Anyway, Wes kind of led the group, until he got called two years ago at the reaping. And when he came back… he's still in school. He was supposed to finish with me this year. But he doesn't sing much anymore."
Kurt remembered that night out on the terrace with Finn and opened his mouth to say something when Finn screamed. Immediately, Blaine whirled, but there was no one around. Finn was kneeling on the ground, cradling his arm and tight with obvious agony.
"Finn!" Kurt was by his side in a second. "What is it? Did someone-"
"That," Finn said through clenched teeth, pointing.
"The butterfly?" Kurt said incredulously. It was a beautiful butterfly, with jewel-toned wings, fluttering off on the light breeze. "The butterfly bit you?"
Finn nodded. Kurt opened his mouth to mock him, but Finn drew in a sharp breath, curling around his arm.
"I've seen those," Blaine said. "They're flutterbies. We have them in District 10." His voice was urgent. "Kurt, did I see tobacco leaves in your pouch?"
Kurt had forgotten about them. "Yes, but-" before he even finished the sentence, Blaine was digging through the small pack. He might have argued, but Finn groaned in agony and Kurt turned back to him, and oh god- his entire arm was swelling. "It's okay, Finn," he said, dropping to his knees beside Finn and grabbing his good hand. "I'm here. I'm…" he had no idea what he could do to help. Did you make a tourniquet for flutterby stings to kept he poison from spreading? Or ice? Or water? Or cut the wound open and drain it?
"Here," Blaine said, pushing Kurt away. He had a knife in one hand and something in his mouth. "Okay, hang on, Finn. This is gonna hurt." He took the knife out and cut a small incision in the skin. Finn tried not to make noise, but he couldn't help it and what came out was a gargled cry that ripped at Kurt's heart. Tears were flowing freely down Finn's face now, and all Kurt could do was stand there, hands useless as Blaine worked. Green pus dribbled out of the wound on Finn's arm, and Blaine kept squeezing until the pus turned yellow, and then clear, and then to deep red blood. Blaine looked relieved when he saw it, and then pulled a green mass out of his mouth. "Get a bandage ready," he ordered Kurt, and put the green mass on Finn's arm. Finn shuddered, and then his entire body relaxed.
There had been a little bit of burlap left from the bag that made the bandages wrapped around Kurt's ribs last night; Kurt cut a strip and handed it to Blaine. The wound wasn't bleeding much since the cut Blaine had had to make was small, but Blaine tied the bandage around to keep the green goop on Finn's arm. "There," he said when he was done. "I think we'd better take a bit of a rest, just to make sure I got it all."
"Got all of what?" Finn asked.
"The poison," Blaine explained. "Don't worry. I've been stung before. Like I said, we have those in District 10. They're nasty. But if you treat it quick enough, it just hurts. Really hurts, but hurts. The longer you let it go, the worse it gets. But we got to it right away and you guys had the tobacco, so you should be good."
The color was returning to Finn's face now, and the swelling in his arm was already starting to go down. His breathing slowed down to normal and he wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Thanks, man," he said, sitting back heavily. And then yawned hugely. "I'm wiped. Is that normal?"
"Yeah. That's normal. The stings make you really drowsy after you treat them." Blaine patted Finn's good arm. "Why don't we take a breather, and you get some sleep? If you're not feeling good, we're not going to get far."
"Okay." Blaine helped Finn get over to a bed of moss under a tree, and Finn stretched out. It was only a few seconds, but Finn's eyelids were already fluttering shut. Blaine watched him, and Kurt watched Blaine.
"That tobacco is powerful stuff," Blaine said, turning back to Kurt. "Do you know that in some places they actually smoke-"
"You saved Finn's life," Kurt said, the realization washing over him.
"Oh. Yeah. I did." Blaine blinked.
"We're in the Hunger Games, and you saved his life. If you'd just let him die, I never would have known it. I never would have known you knew how to save him and I wouldn't have blamed you. But you saved his life." Kurt swallowed. "Thank you."
Blaine smiled at him. "You're welcome."
"I'm going to go get Finn's staff," Kurt said awkwardly. Blaine nodded, and Kurt walked off.
Finn hadn't dropped it far away, but Kurt needed the moment just to breathe and to think. Because Blaine saved Finn's life. Why? Was it part of his strategy? Probably. Blaine needed Kurt and Finn right now just as badly as they needed… well, not him, because they had each other. But Blaine definitely needed Kurt and Finn to make that raid on the Careers. And saving Finn's life had probably played well with the audience, especially having Kurt in his debt. It made sense. After all, Kurt couldn't get along without Finn yet, either. Not until they had more food.
Kurt pressed the bridge of his nose tightly. His ribs still hurt and he was getting a headache, and he felt disgusting. He was hungry and thirsty, although not enough of either to risk dipping into their supplies, He missed his dad, he missed Carole, he missed Mercedes and the rest of his friends, he missed District 8. As poor and meager and miserable as it was, it was better than the Capitol and the Hunger Games. He was tired and he was angry and he wanted nothing more than to go home.
The staff was under his feet. Finn had made it last night when he was on watch. It probably wasn't that strong- it wasn't treated or anything, but it was straight and Finn had done a pretty good job on it. Kurt knelt down to pick it up and saw that Finn had cut names into it. Burt. Mom. Puck. Rachel. Kurt turned the staff slowly in his fingers. Quinn. Mike. Tina. All of New Directions names were there. Kurt ran his fingers over the cuts in the wood, but he couldn’t find his own name.
"Kurt!" Blaine called after him, startling him out of his thoughts. "Are you okay?"
"Fine," Kurt said, standing up, the staff gripped in his hand.
Blaine appeared through the trees. He looked worried. "Good. I just wanted to make sure."
"I'm fine. Is Finn okay?" Kurt asked, falling into step beside Blaine.
"Sleeping like a baby," Blaine said with a grin. His grin faded. "It does mean that we aren't going to go anywhere for a while."
Kurt nodded. "Will we be able to move by tonight?" he asked, wondering if they should make some sort of shelter.
"Yeah. He'll probably only sleep for a couple of hours." They were back in the clearing now. Finn was still sound asleep. Kurt put the staff down next to him and touched his forehead. It was cool, with no signs of fever. He stepped back and sat down with Blaine, across the clearing so they could see Finn but talk without waking him. They had time to rest, and Kurt figured they'd better take it while they could.
***
"So, Wes got the District home to let us sing there. You'd think that would be an easy gig, right? Well, let me tell you, orphans are a mean little lot. One actually threw a rock at me, right in the middle of my solo!"
"Don't make me laugh," Kurt begged, holding his side. "Please."
"Right. The ribs. I'm sorry." Blaine sat back against a tree. They'd been talking for what was probably an hour, although the time had flown by. "Do they still hurt?"
"Let's not talk about that." Kurt looked down at the ground where he was tracing patterns in the dirt. "You talk a lot about Wes," he said slowly.
"Well, he is kind of on my mind right now," Blaine pointed out.
"Yes. But were you guys just friends? Or were you…." He didn't know why it mattered.
"Were we boyfriends?" Blaine finished with a little laugh. "No. Definitely no. Not because of me," he added hastily. "But Wes isn't into guys. I had a crush on him after he won, of course, but…" Blaine shrugged. "We're better off friends anyway."
He said it so simply and casually. "Can you really just say that?" Kurt asked. "Out loud like that, in District 10 I mean?"
"Not all the time," Blaine admitted. His eyes narrowed a little as he watched Kurt's reaction. "You can't in District 8, can you?"
Kurt shook his head. "Not really. Not like that. I am the only kid I know who does."
"Ouch." Blaine reached out and took his hand. The contact sent a pleasant shock up Kurt's arm and through his spine. "I wish you hadn't had to go through it alone."
"I wasn't completely alone."
"Alone enough," Blaine said astutely.
Kurt nodded. He was aware that their fingers were still twined together, and that Blaine was sitting so close to him. This close, he could see the color of Blaine's eyes clearly and how they were framed by thick, dark lashes. He was gorgeous, at least in Kurt's opinion, and Blaine was looking right back at him. Openly. No disgust, no hesitation, just acceptance for everything that Kurt was.
He knew it was going to happen a split second before it did. Blaine shifted position and leaned in, paused, slid his fingers over Kurt's cheek, and then kissed him. His lips were gentle but firm, and at the touch of them, Kurt threw every caution to the wind, just for a moment, and let himself be kissed.
Blaine rocked back, his eyes on Kurt's face, measuring his every reaction. "You okay?"
"Yes," Kurt said, a little breathless. "I'm fine."
"Good." Blaine leaned in and kissed him again.
***
"DAMN IT, PORCELAIN!" Sue punched the tureen off the table as she watched Kurt and Blaine kissing on the television. "I told him! I told him not to get tangled up! His brother caught on! If Lurch can figure it out, you'd think-" she cut herself off with an inarticulate scream of rage.
"It's just a kiss," Julius said. "And I'm sure it's playing well in the Capitol."
"It's not just a kiss." Sue kicked a chair. "It's a disaster."
Julius looked up at the television. "It's raining again, and that just woke Finn up. The Careers are at their home camp and the other tributes are spread out. It's a lull, and they're going to call for us."
Sue scowled and took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. She had to play this to her advantage if she wanted to nail down any more sponsors. What they had already would help, but she needed more.
Julius pressed his ear piece. "Right," he said, in response to a summons. "We'll be right down." He looked up from his clipboard. "Let's go, Sue."
It had been years since her own Games, but Sue still had that feeling of being herded in moments like these, moments when she had to be on television discussing her tributes. Raven fell into step beside her, adjusting her makeup as she walked. Sue batted him away, but he persisted.
"Come on," an assistant with blue skin and purple hair said, gesturing frantically to the studio door. "We're in a slow spot and they want you on now."
"Cool it, Blueberry," Sue said. "I'm there."
This studio was smaller than the big stage used for introducing tributes. Sue didn't often end up in this one, because these interviews and commentaries were only for when your tribute was doing something interesting. Hers were usually dying. It was a plush place, with lots of light blue velvet and brown wood, as well as a television screen to show footage on. There was a studio audience of the lucky layabouts who had gotten tickets. Caesar Flickerman was already seated on a stool, with Wes Graven from District 10 on one side. Wes was a young kid, but there was something sharp in his eyes. He watched Sue coolly as she entered. Caesar smiled at her and gestured for her to sit.
"And we're on in five, four three, two…" the camera man mimed the one and pointed.
"Welcome to the two o'clock commentary on the Games!" Caesar said happily. "And what a Games we've been having! For those of you who might have missed it- and why would you miss anything during these early days of the Games?- we've got a fantastic recap for you." The screen flickered to life, and Kurt and Blaine were sitting together. I wish you hadn't had to go through it alone, Blaine said again, and then leaned in to kiss Kurt. The audience sighed.
"What a move," Caesar Flickerman said. "And what a strategy." He turned to Wes. "Was this your plan all along, to form an alliance with District 8?"
Wes nodded. "We felt out a couple of different tributes, but Blaine had a real connection with Kurt. It was something we knew he could use. The best alliances are the ones that would work outside the arena, where the trust and the good feeling is genuine."
"True, true!" Caesar said. "But the kiss. Tell me about that. Was that in the plans as well?"
Wes's face contorted for a minute, and Sue sat up, interested. "Yes," Wes said, but it was clear to Sue that it was a lie.
"Of course," Caesar said, "because how else are you going to get between an alliance of brothers? You need a really big connection to trump family, and I can't think of anything that would work better. Brilliantly played, and I think we can expect some great things from District 10 now that you're mentoring." Wes looked down at his knees. "Sue," Caesar said, turning to her, "we know that Blaine initiated the alliance, but from what I'm hearing, your boys were aware of the possibility."
"Well, Caesar, we were certainly aware," Sue said. "I've got to say, Blaine was kind of obvious in his attempts. He can use my boys, that's true, but my boys can use him as well. Kurt knew that Blaine was either interested or pretending to be interested, so he went with it." That's one way to put it, she thought sourly, but made sure her face reflected nothing but confidence.
"I have to say," Caesar said, "after watching that kiss I've been wondering how much of that sweet vulnerable virgin act from the interviews was just that- an act." He nudged her. "Care to enlighten us?"
"I'm pretty sure that would destroy the mystery," Sue said. She winked. "I think that's one of those questions we need to see how it plays out."
"Such a tease," Caesar said. "But how do you think this will affect Kurt's alliance with Finn? Will it get in between them? If Kurt has to make a choice, who will he choose?"
"Well, Caesar, I think that's going to depend on the situation," Sue said. "This is the Hunger Games. It's not who does he love more, but who can he get more out of? And that goes for Finn, too. There may come a point where Finn has to pick Blaine over Kurt simply because it's the better decision if he wants to win."
"Excellent point. This has been fascinating. Ooh! I see that we're having some action in the arena. Sue, Wes, thanks for joining us, and let's go back to the arena to see what's going on with our District 7 tribute."
The camera cut, and the television screen shifted over to broadcasting the live feed of a girl being cornered by a pack of golden fluffy squirrels. Caesar slid off the stool and shook Sue's hand, and then Wes's. "Good show," he said, sounding a lot more normal. "I'll call you if we need you back in the studio." A cameraman called for him, and Sue was left alone with Wes.
"What the hell is that tribute of yours doing?" she asked Wes through clenched teeth. "It's not bad enough these kids have to die, but you have to fuck with their minds as they do it?"
Wes glared back at her. "I didn't tell him to kiss him. In fact, I was pretty damn clear in my instructions. I told him not to get attached, because alliances can't last. It's your tribute who's fucking with mine."
"Well get it through his head that it's a bad idea for both of them!"
"And how am I supposed to do that? It's not like I can cup my hands around my mouth and shout, 'hey, Blaine! Stop the kissing!'"
He had a point. Sue rubbed her forehead with her knuckles. "How far is he going to go?" she asked resignedly. "How badly is he going to screw my kid over?"
Wes shook his head. "Your guess is as good as mine. I told you- I told him not to do this. But if it's any help, Blaine's never had a boyfriend before. He's not some great lothario that's using sex to get what he wants out of Kurt." Wes frowned. "I think. I don't know. He's a good performer, but I know Blaine. He looked happy. If you want the truth, I think he kissed Kurt because he wanted to, and no other reason."
Sue studied Wes more closely. He was a bright kid, but he was still a kid. Not even twenty yet, she realized. And this kid was being asked to keep another kid alive, and from the way he talked, they might even know each other personally. They might even be friends.
Victors either got harder or they broke. Standing there with Wes, watching his reaction, Sue was completely sure that if Blaine died in the arena, Wes was going to be one of those victors that broke.
***
The coverage that night included both Finn's sting and Kurt and Blaine's kiss. Burt frowned as he watched both.
"Get it, Hummel," was Puck's response as the kiss played.
Mercedes whacked him in the arm. "It's a ploy, idiot. Blaine's using him."
"It is not," Puck insisted. "Blaine wanted him. He's got a game going, that's for sure, but he wants Hummel for real."
"Thank you for that commentary, Puck," Carole said dryly. Burt glared at him, but then turned back to his thoughts.
The apartment wasn't full tonight. Burt and Carole had decided to see to that. Instead, it was just the two of them, Will Schuester, Puck, Mercedes, and Santana. "Turn it off," Burt said. "They're safe for right now."
"So what's up, Mr. H?" Puck said, lying back on the bare floor and propping himself up on his elbows.
"Yeah, you sound like you've got something on your mind," Mercedes said.
"Yeah, well, maybe I do." Burt leaned forward, lacing his fingers together. "Carole and me, we've been talking a bit. And we're starting to think that maybe the time's come for another try at getting rid of the Capitol."
"What?" Mr. Schuester looked alarmed. "Burt, Carole. Are you talking about an uprising?"
"Yeah. We're talking about an uprising."
"I'm so in," Puck said immediately.
"But… but…" Schuester looked worried.
"Speak up, Schuester," Burt said. "That's why I asked you in on this. You won't screw us over, but you'll tell us if it's a bad idea."
"It is," Will said, spreading his hands. "District 13."
"They can't destroy us like they did District 13," Carole said. "They'll be without fabric in a matter of weeks. And that won't go over well in the Capitol."
Will closed his eyes. "Maybe they won't destroy us right away, but they will eventually. Once they've got some other system set up."
"Where are they going to set it up though?" Puck asked. "You see those asses in the Capitol sitting at looms or working the cotton mills any time soon? And the other Districts have their hands full. They destroy us, they're only hurting themselves."
"There have been uprisings before," Santana said. "The District has gone on."
"Yeah, but the people haven't," Mercedes said. She looked at Puck. "If you do this, you're going to be leaving your sister and your mom on their own. They'll kill you, Puck. Or even worse, they'll kill them."
"A bullet hole in the head is better than Sarah being sent to the Games," Puck muttered, and Burt shivered.
"Or," Mercedes added, "you can bet that Sarah will be the tribute sent to the Games next year. I'm sure they rig those drawings."
"Whatever," Santana said. "I'm definitely in. You know that."
Burt did. Santana was from one of the poorest parts of the District. Puck was always up for a fight. He knew that those two would be willing. "What about you, Mercedes?"
Mercedes sighed. "Don't get me wrong, Mr. Hummel. I want to. And I'm real mad about what they're doing to Kurt. But I am worried about what Mr. Schuester said about the Capitol taking it out on the rest of the District." She frowned. "But I think there's a lot of the District that will go along with it. We could talk to some of the people in the factories. The mills, especially. And some of the other tributes' parents. Not just the ones from this year, but the ones from last year."
"You know," Puck said thoughtfully, "if we could get everyone out, it would be really, really easy to start a fire in a cotton mill."
Santana nodded. "Get all the people out, get a bunch of Peacekeepers in. You'd need someone willing to die to serve as a decoy, get Peacekeepers to chase them in."
"No you wouldn't. There's a trap door in the spinning room," Carole said. "It's an exit that the management doesn't know about. They put it in after mill number four went up and no one would do anything about safety."
"Wait. You guys are really talking about burning people alive?" Schuester said.
"They've taken my boys and are torturing them on screen, making them kill each other," Burt said. "Yeah, we're talking about burning people alive."
"Wow. Wow, okay." Schuester looked a little taken aback, but then nodded. "Okay. I just… I don't want to lose sight of that, you know? Otherwise we're just as bad as them. And what you're talking about- it's a pretty brutal plan."
"Why shouldn't it be?" Puck asked.
"We'll keep our humanity," Carole reassured Schuester. "But we can't win without being brutal. We don't even have a chance."
Will nodded, and Burt saw the capitulation in his eyes. "All right," Burt said. "Let's plan this."
Chapter 7: The Theft