[Chapter] Under the Willow (1/?)
Title: Under the Willow
Author: youaregonecas
Gift for: shieldsam
Wordcount: 2.630 words
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Castiel/Dean + Jess/Sam + John/Mary + Jo/Charlie
Tags: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting tribute!Castiel, tribute!Dean, mentor!John, Violence, Character Death, Angst, Secret Santa, Happy Ending, Fem!Cas, hetero!deancas,
Summary: Castielle Novak is a shy, reserved girl. Even though she comes from a big family, she doesn’t like it when attention is brought to her. She'd rather shy away in the background and let other people talk for her. That is, until the Capitol sends her to the Hunger Games and she has no other option, but to allow it.
With forty-seven other highly competent people, her chances of surviving are dangerously low. That is until Dean Winchester decides, Fuck It, if two people can win, they better go home together.
[Chapter one]
Out of the East never see the sunrise
Spoon fed peace, swallowing knives
We know that promise is sweet but it’s laced with venom
And we’re their living sacrifice,
The Hanging Tree - Tyler Ward ft. Alyson Stoner
The night before reaping day was long and cold. Castielle had pulled three blankets over her body in an attempt to stop the cold, but she was still shivering under the covers. Tomorrow would be better, she knew that, knew that if she just got through reaping, things would be, better and maybe, okay again. She couldn't shake the feeling through, the slight fear that crept up on her every reaping day.
Cas was worried, even though the fear wasn't supposed to be there. She was the last one in their family to be able to get chosen, her youngest brother had been forced to attend his last reaping last year. She would be all alone in the crowd today.
But she had nothing to worry about, right? Things would be okay. They had to be. After all, she was the last one in the family to actually have a chance to be chosen. Last one couldn’t be chosen, right?
Cas was still… petrified. It wasn’t the right word for it, not completely, but it was close enough to the anxiousness that she felt. This year would be different, everybody knew that. Not one, but two tributes of every gender were send into the arena. Forty-eight people waiting to be killed, only forty-six to actually die.
And the bloody trick of it all was, even the ones who returned were good as dead. Death in the arena was a way to die. Not peaceful, but, better than what the tributes coming back faced. They were off so much worse, with nightmares and sadness, bounds of depression. Castielle had seen it before, in John Winchester. Seen how broken somebody could really be.
“Fix you shirt,” Anna instructed gently, before sighing and undoing the buttons that Cas had done up wrong. “You're awfully dreamy today.” Anna new though, knew the anxiousness that accompanied the reaping. Anna had only gotten out of being reaped two years ago, the memories were still clear.
“I, I know. Sorry.”
“You are safe, Castielle. Don’t worry.” She squeezed his shoulder and even though the gesture was meant reassuring, it really wasn’t. ‘There’s people whose name is in that bowl more often than they can count.” The unspoken words hung in the air: 'if there's anybody who is surely going in, it's the people who need the Tesserae'
“I know, Anna.” Cas swallowed away his doubts as best as he could. “We should probably get going. If we want to get there in time.”
The center was buzzing with people. The process of checking in was long and dragging. At least last year, Cas had had her youngest - but still older than her - brother Gabriel there. It had calmed her down at least a little bit, knowing that well, maybe, there was somebody that she could look at, somebody in the mass around her that knew her well enough to smile at her at the right moments.
Castielle's family was in the crowd, somewhere, but she couldn’t find them and it freaked her out maybe just a little. The girls were up first, she would be the one that could be picked first. On one side, they could, well, get it over with. If they would be last, she would only worry longer, but, well, that didn’t mean that she liked being first up. Everything was going to be okay. Cas kept repeating the words over and over again, until she believed them. Not that she actually did, nothing was going to be okay. Nothing.
Cas zoned out long enough to miss Eve’s annoying talking and the wig, which was now sitting crooked on her head. He didn’t know what had happened to it but knew that she was probably trying to compose herself. There was always at least one thing that went askew with her wigs or make-up or something. For all that Castielle knew and cared, she had just put it on wrong. End of the world for her, something funny to look back on in the Capitol.
“Charlie Bradbury,” she called out, folding the little paper again and putting it next to the bowl. He knew her, knew the sixteen year old redhead from the scene. She looked tiny walking next to the peacekeepers. She was clearly nervous, but not at all like he had thought she would be. It was almost as if she had expected it.
Cas had seen her around a few times. She knew that they had a difficult situation going on with Charlie’s mom, that she didn’t have anyone left to survive. Or at least, barely anybody. Maybe, she wanted to die. The thought caused a pang in his heart. The girl was brave. Braver than most people were, especially at that age and well, especially being the way that she was.
She and her girlfriend had to withstand a lot of critic looks and disapproving glances. They were subject of all gossip for at least two weeks before things finally toned down. He felt sorry for them. It wasn’t like you could decide whether you were straight or not. It wasn’t a choice. A person can hardly decide if he or she is into women or men. It was all just a sick joke of faith.
Her breath got stuck in her throat as Eve reached in the bowl again. Her fingers closed around a slip and god, the minutes seemed to drag into hours as she took it in her hands and unfolded it. Please don’t say Castielle Novak, please don’t say Castielle Novak, please don’t say Castielle Novak.
She repeated the words like a personal mantra, not that they helped. She could feel her blood freeze in her veins as the first syllables of the name rolled over her lips.
“Castielle Novak.”
Cas had thought that she would panic, would freak out or something when her name was pulled out of the bowl. Every time she dreamt, she dreamt of herself freaking out at the mention of her name, hell, even if she just thought about the dream, she could feel the slight tremor spread through her.
What she felt now? It was quite the contrary. She felt numb almost, as if the words hadn’t reached her just yet. Castielle barely noticed it as she walked forwards, stepped up the stairs to the podium. Her feet let her walk up to the stage, but it was almost as if she didn't realize that she was doing it. The wood creaked under her steps ever so slightly as she stood beside the redhead. Charlie threw her a sorry smile, but she shouldn’t be the one send her that smile. Cas knew that she looked at Charlie the same way.
Worst of all? The look in Gabriel's eyes. His eyes found his from the outskirts of the crowd, the look so vulnerable, filled with regret. Almost as if he was planning on saying I am so sorry, as if he was saying, if I would be a girl, I'd volunteer for you, I'd go in for you.
“Now our girls are chosen, let us move along.” Eve stepped over to the bowl with the boys names a lot faster than she had seemed to do with the girl names. Her hand hovered a little, before picking the first slip of paper. The slip that could decide how her chances would be in the arena. Part of her wanted them to pick people that were weak, that didn't have a lot, that barely had anything to eat. People that wouldn't last long in the arena. The part of her that wasn't so selfish wanted Eve to pick two names of people that were strong, that could get out of the arena.
“Daniel McCarty.” The name didn’t ring a bell, at least not immediately. When she saw the scrawny twelve year old boy step up the stage, whole figure of him shaking, she did recognize him. She felt sorry for the little boy, felt sorry for the way that he was shaking, sorry for how bad that he was feeling, but she could hardly reach out for him. It would be, not good.
Daniel was twelve years old and yet his name had been in the bowl seven times, once for himself and six times for tessara. His mother had seven mouths to feed, seven children to raise. Daniel was the oldest of the bunch too, the youngest kid not even out of diapers yet.
“And now, for our last tribute.” Eve reached into the bowl one last time and took out the slip. Her eyes widened a little, before the sly smile crept up her lips. “Sam Winchester.”
The huff that sounded through the crowd this time was audible. John Winchester, mentor for the tributes paled visibly. It almost looked as if he was going to say something, as if he was going to mention something, say that it wasn’t fair, but he just clasped his mouth shut and stayed silent.
“No.” A familiar voice came from the crowd, though Castielle couldn’t recognize the voice, not immediatly. “No. Sammy.” Cas turned around to the voice and the person that belonged to it. The oldest Winchester stood there, face pale and hands trembling. “Sammy.”
He composed himself after that, letting his brother go for the stage. Sam was four years younger than Cas, but already almost taller than she was. It made Cas feel tiny and well, like she would be death on the first day. Which, true be told, was most certainly possible. She wasn't fast, she didn't have the skills that the Hunter’s kids had.
“Are there any volunteers?” It was a loaded question and it always stayed unanswered. People cared about the fact that there was kid going in, but they didn’t care enough to go in for them. It was never that way. Not even brothers or sisters did, the love for another sibling only went that far.
“I volunteer.” The boy’s voice sounded loud in the silence of the square. Heads turned to the older Winchester boy, the looks on their faces, disturbed. From where he was standing, Cas could see John Winchester’s trembling hands and the pained expression in his eyes.
The peacekeepers took the boy up front, letting Sam back into the crowd. Cas didn't miss the tears in his eyes as Dean walked on the stage, reluctantly stopping next to Eve.
"What's your name?"
"Dean Winchester." If Cas's ears didn't betray him, the man had tears in his voice.
"That must be your brother," Eve said, a sly smile on her lips. "Didn't want him to steal your glory huh?" And really, she couldn't be much more wrong than with that statement. Cas knew Dean, even if it was only by watching from the distance, even if it was just from being there in the background when Dean defended his big eyed baby brother. Dean would never go in the Games because he didn't want Sammy to walk away with the fame. The sole suggestion of that made Cas queasy. No way that Dean could ever do that. He cared to much for his little brother.
The sick thing was that, before sending them all in to kill each other, they had to shake hands. Almost like, yeah, get to know each other, you’ll have to kill each other soon enough anyway. All four of them would be cooped up in close quarters soon enough, at least now, they had some last freedom now, when they were about to say goodbye.
Saying goodbye… It made Castielle’s stomach turn in disgust. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to her brothers or sister, to her parents. Cas knew that when she went into the arena, that she wouldn’t be coming back out, she knew that in the deepest of her heart, but didn’t say a word about it. It would be misplaced, it wouldn’t be right.
“Cas.” Anna entered the room first, joined by Gabriel and Lucifer. “God Cas.” She didn’t even reply, she just bit back her tears as Gabriel wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “You gotta promise me something kiddo. Hey, look at me. Promise me something."
Gabriel turned her face up so Cas had no choice but to look at him. His hand was warm on her chin, the hot tears that pricked in her eyes threatening to spill over her cheeks at the look on her brothers face, the plain hurt and confusion, the sadness. It was raw and pure, genuine. "What Gabe?" Her voice was no louder than whispering, thick with tears.
“You come back home, you got me?” He forced her to keep looking. “I don’t care how you come home, how bloody you have to fight. But you come back.” She tried to look away from him, but his hand kept her from moving away. “Promise me. Please promise me you'll come back alive.”
“I promise.” Gabriel had to know that she didn’t really mean it, but let her go anyway. "I promise I'll try."
“Good, and you mean that, okay? Damn Cassie."
“You can do this, you know,” Lucifer said behind Gabe, throwing her a warm smile. “You’ve got Winchester on your team. If there is anybody that you could count on, count on him.”
Castielle tried to make a point in not crying while her family or anybody was there, but she just couldn’t. Her friends, Hannah and Jo coming by was enough to reduce the three of them to a sobbing mess. They didn’t say anything in the little bit of time that they were allowed for each other, the only thing that they did was hold on to each other.
The sad thing of it all was, Jo had so much more to lose in this games than she had before. She had her girlfriend in there and friend. It was obvious that Charlie going back with them was their main focus, that it had to be her main focus.
“I’ll see you,” she promised when the two girls were forced to leave. “Okay, I’ll see you.” Her voice wavered one last time, before she shut herself off to the world around her.
"You and Charlie both come back to me, okay?" Jo's eyes were red from the tears. "Both. I need you both."
"I promise." Another promise she wouldn't be able to keep.
Castielle didn’t know when she had realized that she was good at blocking out her emotions, but what she did know was that it had become a second nature in the past couple of years. Not that she blocked them that much with her parents or brothers around, but at school or when just going out? It was almost all she did.
Life in District Twelve wasn’t easy, not for them, but most certainly not for the others, the ones who had way less. The Novak family had been lucky, they had some money, could get around with what they had. It was better than most if not all families. They didn’t have to use the Tessarae, they had two working parents that made enough to get them some security.
Castielle was distracted as they brought her off to the train that they would be boarding. All four of them stood outside of the train for a few minutes before boarding it, forcing to smile for all the cameras. Only when the train doors slid closed and the train started moving, did they relax ever so slightly.