I volunteer as tribute- a Supernatural x Hunger Games crossover

Chapter one

𝗔𝘆𝘆 𝗴𝘂𝘆𝘀! 𝗦𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼 𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗹𝘆, 𝗜'𝘃𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗿𝗻. 𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗜 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶𝘀𝗲 𝗜'𝗹𝗹 𝗱𝗼 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿! 𝗜𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗹𝗹 🖤

Reaping day.
Dean Winchester hated reaping day, nearly as much as he hated it when dad hit Sammy.
He always had.
At a very young age Dean had seen through the fake celebration and taken reaping day for what it really was- the Capital dragging children away from their homes and families, throwing them into the arena to kill each other in a twisted, meaningless sport.
The tributes were drawn at random, but entering your name a few extra times meant more food for your family.
With many people literally starving to death, teens from the low income side of town- including Dean and his best friend Gale Hawthorne- often did.
At seventeen years old Dean was more mature than most teenagers, which was saying a lot in district twelve.
Teenagers here were pretty mature in general.
Dean scowled up at the sun.
"Why'd you have to go and raise today, huh? Too much trouble for you to just destroy earth so we wouldn't have to go through this again?"
"Go through what again?"
Sammy's little voice was full of curiosity and a hint of fear.
Composing his face before he turned around, Dean made sure his own tone was light.
"Wearing this god awful shirt all day, of course! Last year it nearly choked me to death."
Sam's face smoothed out, the worry instantly giving way to camaraderie.
"I hate my shirt too. It's so tight and itchy."
Ruffling his little brothers hair, Dean willed his voice not to shake as he answered teasingly,
"well, if both of us survive the day let's burn them tonight. That way we'll never have to wear them again."
"But dad said-"
"Screw dad. He's not here, is he? We are. So I say let's have a secret bonfire tonight and get rid of these stupid things once and for all."
Instinctively, Dean pulled Sammy in to a hug as the stark reality of his own words sank in. If we both survive the day.
If neither of us are chosen.
The younger boy clung onto his brother for dear life.
"Dean- what if they draw my name? What if I- what if I'm one of the tributes?"
Sammy pulled back, his hazel eyes wide and frightened.
He stared up into his brothers eyes as though this were all in Deans hands.
"I can't get chosen, right? This is my first year and I'm only in there once, right?"
Though Dean was wondering the same thing, he forced a confident tone into his voice.
"You're not going, Sammy. I can promise you- no matter what happens, you're not setting foot in that arena. Not on my watch. Okay, man?"
"Okay. Thanks, Dean."
As Sam lay his head on Dean's chest, memories flashed through his mind- their father, his face blank, telling a four year old Dean that his mother, Mary, was dead.
Father, unable to comfort the infant Sam that night, storming out and not returning until morning.
Dean had barely been tall enough to make it, but he climbed into Sammys crib and held his baby brother all night.
Curiously, Sam hadn't so much as whimpered before he fell asleep in his brothers arms. Months later, Sammy taking his first steps- away from father and straight to Dean.
Nine year old Sammy, who had defended a smaller boy from bullies, staggering home to Dean with multiple broken bones.
The way the little boy hadn't even cried as Mrs. Everdeen, the districts best healer, fixed him up.
Dean still remembered holding Sammy's hand and willing some of his own strength into his baby brother.
Ten year old Sam, completely losing it on that morning father broke the news that Dean had been drafted to begin working in the mines early.
Dean himself, just turned fifteen, had been terrified. Everyone knew that the mines were treacherous and unsafe.
But every shred of fear he felt for himself disappeared as Sammy cried in his arms.
That day, Dean had made a promise to his little brother. "No matter what, I'm coming back tonight. Alright, Sammy? I'm not gonna let anything happen to me because I sure as hell am not letting anything happen to you. I promise, Sammy. I'll be back."
He had also made a promise to himself- no matter what the cost, looking after Sammy was the only thing that mattered.
Dean had given up caring about his own life long ago, if he ever had.
But Sammy- Sammy was his responsibility, and Dean would die before he let anything happen to the kid.
Sam tightened his grip, pulling Dean back to the present.
"You're the best, Dean."
His little voice shook, but Dean pretended not to notice.
"Damn straight I am." He squeezed Sam reassuringly, them pulled back.
"Now, let's go get this over with. We've got a bonfire tonight, remember?"