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No One Knows Who I Am	By : Marblez Category: G through L > The Hunger Games Trilogy Views: 4841 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games and I will make no profit from writing this story.

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The Arena, Day Three

            Adya woke groggily to the unmistakable sound of a canon, signalling the end of yet another innocent life inside the Arena.
            Beside him Cato sighed softly.
            “That makes twelve…”
            Adya frowned.
            “You’ve been keeping count?” he asked softly, rolling over to face the other boy, his hand moving so that his fingertips could brush the Careers strong cheekbones, following the contours of his handsome face down to his lips.
            Cato nodded.
            “If you want survive inside the Arena you have to know how many people you’re up against,” he answered, sounding as though her were reciting from a book. “Otherwise you could think that you’re the last one left, the Victor, and then someone could speak up behind you and stab you in the back whilst you’re celebrating. It’s happened.”
            “Oh.”
            Just then the air was filled with another sound only this time it was a scream of pure rage and it was coming from a worryingly familiar source.
            Clove.
            That could only mean one thing…
            Adya gasped as the zip to their tent was wrenched open so violently he heard the fabric around it tear as someone forced their way inside.
            “You fucking cripple!”
            Yep.
            Definitely Clove.
            Before he could react Adya felt someone grab hold of his ankles through the thick padding of the sleeping bag, gripping tight before proceeding to drag him out of the safety of the tent.
            The sleeping bag came with him, wrapping itself tightly around his legs as he was dragged across the ground and trapping himself inside.
            “I’ll kill you!”
            Adya was half expecting the blow that came out of nowhere, striking him in the cheekbone and sending his head snapping to the side.
            Hot.
            A hand grabbed hold of his head, forcing his face towards the unmistakable heat of the embers left over from their fire last night.
            “No!” he gasped, pushing away desperately, heedless of the pain in his scalp and the splinters digging into his hands. “Please…not…”
            Clove laughed coldly.
            “Is the little cripple afraid of the fire?” she cackled, pressing her knee between his shoulder blades as she pressed his face down into the embers. “Good.”
            He screamed.
            Fire…
            His face…
            He couldn’t…
            No…
            He barely noticed when the weight forcing him down into the relentless heat suddenly disappeared from his back, hands pulling him away from the embers, rolling him onto his back before gently smoothing his hair back from his face.
            All he was aware was the pain…
            “Is he ok?”
            Voices…
            Familiar yet so far away…
            Something refreshingly cool pressed against his burned skin, the sharp increase in pain which followed making him gasp and instinctively flinch away.
            “It’s ok…”
            The soothing voice, whilst reassuring, wasn’t the one he wanted to hear.
            “Where’s Cato…?”
            He flinched as a burn across the corner of his mouth pulled as he spoke, making the pain even worse.
            “He’s dealing with Clove.”
            That simple phrase could mean a multitude of things given the current situation but, judging by the continued threats being screamed he hadn’t killed her.
            Yet.
            “Glimmers dead.”
            “Yeah, I kind of guessed that…” Adya mumbled, reaching up a shaking hand to try and figure out what damage had been done to his face.
            Joy.
            A new collection of scars to add to the ones he already had.
            “Fire…why does it always have to be fire…”
            “Because the universe has a cruel sense of humour,” his rescuer murmured, adding his own fingers to the mix as he assessed the damage. “It’s not too bad.”
            “Not too bad?”
            “Not too bad,” his rescuer, Lover Boy, reassured him as he continued to press something cool to the worst of the burns. “I used to burn myself all the time back home, working in the bakery. You should see my forearms.”
            Adya smiled sadly.
            “If we keep them clean they should heal quickly.”
            “Thank you…um…I’m sorry but I can’t remember your name…”
            “Peeta,” the other boy responded. “My names Peeta.”
            “Adya.”
            “I know,” Peeta murmured, giving the particularly painful burn near the corner of his eye one final wipe with the damp cloth before taking it away. “And that’s where my medical knowledge ends I’m afraid.”
            “S’ok…”
            Clove cried out in pain.
            “Has he finally killed her?” he found himself asking.
            “No. But he has given her one heck of a bloody nose,” Peeta answered, moving away as hurried footsteps approached. “I’ve done what I can for him.”
            “Adya…”
            A strong body knelt beside his head, carefully pulling him up so that he was using a surprisingly comfortable pair of thighs as a pillow.
            “Are you ok?” Cato asked softly.
            “Not going to lie, I’ve been better…” he responded softly, reaching up to touch his lovers face. “What about you? Are you ok?”
            Cato sucked in a sharp breath.
            “If she even breaths near you again I’ll kill her without a second thought.”
            “…kay…”
            Ping!
            Adya frowned, tilting his head as he listened out for the strange sound.
            “What’s that?” he asked.
            “What’s what?”
            Ping!
            “That.”
            It was louder the second time.
            Closer.
            Ping!
            “Can’t you hear it?” he asked, leaning forwards as he turned his face towards the direction that the strange noise was coming from. “It’s coming from over there.”
            Ping!
            “It’s a parachute!”
            Sam’s exclamation was accompanied by the sound of rushing feet, no doubt someone going to fetch said parachute from wherever it had landed.
            “Who’s it for?” Cato demanded as the footsteps returned.
            “Um…”
            Adya listened as a latch was released.
            Something was dropped almost carelessly to the ground.
            A piece of paper was unfolded carefully.
            “…District 8,” Sam eventually answered.
            “Give it here, then.”
            Adya grunted softly in annoyance as the body beneath his shifted, dislodging his hand from the older boys face as Cato twisted to grab whatever had arrived.
            “What is it?” he asked once his boyfriend had returned to his earlier position.
            “What does it say on the note?” Cato demanded instead of answering him.
            “Um…” Sam mumbled and once more there was the sound of paper being unfolded. “For the burns. Use it generously.”
            “Use what generously?” Adya asked with a frown. “Cato?”
            “It’s some sort of cream,” Cato finally answered. “Someone must like you.”
            Adya smiled.
            His head felt unusually light, almost like it was made out of cotton wool.
            “I know…” he responded, reaching out once more to trace Cato’s beautifully defined cheekbones. “You like me…”
            “Not me,” Cato countered with a smile, cradling Adyas body in the curve of his arms as he worked to open the pot of cream. “Someone on the outside.”
            A gentle finger began dabbing the cream onto his face.
            Adya couldn’t hold back to the sigh of relief as whatever was in the cream instantly got to work, a soothing layer of coldness drawing out the worst of the pain.
            Tilting his head back he looked up at the sky with his sightless eyes.
            “…thank you…”
            Cato finished applying the miraculous cream quickly and, after throwing the empty pot away carefully rearranged the boy in his arms so that both of them would be able to sit more comfortably together.
            “How does that feel?” the Career asked softly.
            “You wouldn’t believe how much better my face feels right now…” he sighed, his fingertips following the familiar path of Cato’s arm once more so that he could find his face. “No more frowning…”
            Cato’s lips pulled up into an easy smile.
            “Um…Cato?” Marvel’s voice was almost hesitant.
            Cato stiffened beneath him, turning his head to look at the other Career.
            “What should we do with Glimmer?”
            “They won’t collect her body whilst it’s here with us,” Cato answered calmly, using his I’m-The-Leader-Obey-Me-Or-Suffer-The-Consequences voice.
            Adya began to worry for his sanity when that voice only made him smile.
“Take it over to the other side of the clearing,” Cato finished, grunting as he received some sort of non-verbal reply from Marvel. “Fish Girl, make yourself useful and get us all something to eat. I’m bloody starving.”
“I’m…I’m not very good at cooking…” Fish Girl admitted hesitantly.
            “I’ll do it,” Peeta announced. “I grew up in a bakery. I know how to cook.”
            Adya couldn’t help himself.
            “Don’t you mean bake?” he asked with a cheeky smile, the medicine in the cream only adding to the cotton wool feeling in his head. “I thought bakers baked.”
            “Yeah,” Peeta responded and he could hear the smile in his voice. “I certainly know how to bake but thanks to my mother’s insistence I also know how to cook.”
            Adya listened as Marvel removed Glimmers body from the campsite.
            “I don’t feel guilty.”
            The words surprised him as much as everyone else even though he was the one who had spoken, a frown marring his scarred face.
            “I know I should,” he continued, a blush working up his neck as he heard everyone pause to listen to him. “I killed her…but…she made me so angry…”
            Peeta paused where he was gathering the supplies he needed to make them all breakfast, clearing his throat softly before speaking up.
            “It’s the Games,” he said, his voice trembling. “If we let them they can change who we are, who we’ve always been. We’ve all seen it happen. The Games can make us into something that we’re not.”
            It was like all the sound had been sucked out of the Arena.
            He was right.
            Back home he would never have even considered lashing out at someone, certainly not with the intention of seriously harming them or worse, killing them.
            That wasn’t him.
            And yet here he was, a Tribute with one kill to his name.
            “Hey,” Cato’s voice interrupted his darkening thoughts. “Don’t. Don’t overthink this and make yourself into some evil monster. You’re not.”
“But I have changed…”
            “Yes,” Cato agreed softly, leaning down to press a kiss to Adya’s forehead. “But so have the rest of us. We have to if we’re going to survive.”
            Adya nodded, rubbing his cheek against the rough fabric of Cato’s shirt.
            “I do know one thing though,” Cato continued softly, his fingers playing absently with Adya’s hair. “I am a better person than I was before I met you. I was raised to be a monster. You reminded me what it is to be human.”
            Adya smiled.
            Breakfast, once it was ready, was surprisingly delicious given their current circumstances and Clove remained blissfully silent although Adya could have sworn he could feel her eyes on him the entire time.
            “That was good, Lover Boy,” Marvel laughed loudly. “You’d make someone a good little wife. Tell me, do you clean too? Mend clothes?”
            Peeta wisely chose not to answer.
            “Sparky. Fish Girl. You’ll be staying at the camp today,” Cato ordered as the breakfast things were cleared away, his voice silky smooth and ever so deadly. “Prove to me it was worth my while letting you live.”
            Marvel chuckled darkly.
            “You’ll stay here with them,” Cato murmured in his ear, pressing a kiss to his cheek before rising to his feet. “Lover Boy. You’re with us. Time for you to prove your worth and find your little Burning Bitch.”
            It took him a moment to recognise the sounds he heard coming from the centre of the camp as those of the three Careers and Peeta arming themselves.
            “That was Glimmers bow.”
            Cloves voice was tight with emotion.
            “And now it’s mine.”
            Cato’s voice on the other hand was devoid of all emotion as he moved to kneel in front of Adya, setting something on the ground in between them before pressing something into the palm of his hand.
            “Keep this with you at all times,” he ordered softly, curling Adya’s fingers around what he assumed to be the hilt of a knife. “Do not be afraid to use it.”
            Adya nodded.
            A hand cupped his jaw, thumb stroking gently across his cheekbone.
            “Stay safe.”
            “You too,” he responded, turning his head to press a kiss to the smooth palm which had previously been pressed against his cheek. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
            Leaning back on his elbows, the knife held loosely in one hand, he stretched his legs out in front of him and tilted his head up towards the sun as he listened to the group of “hunters” as they made their way out of the clearing.
            A soft breeze rustled through the trees surrounding the clearing and somewhere not too far away a mockingjay sang a delicate little tune.
            For a moment it was almost as if he were in a different world.
            A peaceful world.
            “Ow!”
            Sam’s sharp hiss of pain broke through the illusion of peace.
            “Sam?” he called out, pushing himself up into a normal sitting position as he looked over towards the source of the noise. “You ok?”
            “M’fine…” Sam muttered. “Just took me by surprise…”
            “Um…what took you by surprise?” Adya asked with a frown, wondering just what Sam and Fish Girl had been working on since the “hunter” had left. “What exactly have you two been doing?”
            “We’re digging up…” Sam trailed off, grunting breathlessly as he struggled with something for a moment. “We’re digging up the mines.”
            Adya frowned.
            “The mines…” he repeated incredulously. “As in the mines placed around the pedestals to blow us all sky high should we move too early? Those mines?”
            “Yes.”
            Something large and metallic was placed on the ground beside him.
            “…is that safe?”
            It certainly didn’t sound very safe.
            “Oh, it’s perfectly safe,” Sam reassured him breathlessly, kneeling beside the metal object. “These are pressure sensitive mines.”
            “…there’s more than one type of mine?” Adya couldn’t help but ask.
            “Of course.”
            Of course.
            Sam’s tone made it very clear his answer should have been obvious.
            “But given the way they’ve been used in past games the mines were either going to be pressure sensitive mines or be ones that were triggered externally by the Gamemakers,” Sam continued calmly. “However after uncovering one of the mines I was able to determine that they were definitely pressure sensitive mines.”
            “…and that makes them safe?”
            “Yes,” the younger tribute reassured him. “Because these are pressure sensitive mines they must have an automatic shutdown that triggers at the end of the countdown otherwise we’d all have been blown up regardless of whether or not the games had officially started.”
            Ok.
            That made sense.
            Sort of…
            “But if they’ve been turned off why are you digging them up?” he asked as he heard Sam tinkering away with the mine right there beside him. “Doesn’t that make them a little bit useless now?”
            “Because if I’m right…and I hope I am otherwise your boyfriends literally going to kill me…I can reactivate them and we can use them to protect our supplies.”
            “…reactivate?”
            “Turn them back on…” Sam trailed off, humming thoughtfully for a moment before letting out a relieved sigh. “Yup. No problem.”
            No problem.
            “Where did you learn to do all of this?”
            “School, of course,” Sam answered simply, brushing his hands off on his trousers as he climbed back to his feet and stood over Adya. “Why? Didn’t you learn this sort of stuff back in District Eight?”
            “Um…”
            School.
            What had they taught him in school?
            “No. After learning the basics, you know, ready, writing and arithmetic we were tested and depending on what we scored we learned about our future trade,” Adya explained. “Sewing. Weaving. Dying. That sort of thing. A couple of people learned basic maintenance for the factory machines but nothing technical.”
            “Oh. Well, I guess that makes sense. What did you learn?” Sam asked as he returned to his earlier task of digging up the next mine. “Once you were tested.”
            “I never was. I lost my sight before I was old enough to be tested.”
            “Oh. Sorry.”
            For a moment there were only the sounds of the deadly weapons being carefully unearthed from the ground.
            “We learned about our trade too, back in District Four,” Fish Girl piped up suddenly. “Unless we showed promise and then we were trained for the games.”
            “You’re not allowed to train,” Sam pointed out. “It’s against the rules.”
            Fish Girl gave no verbal answer.
            “Where do you want this thing anyway?” she asked suddenly.
            “Oh…um…I guess we could put them in front of the supply mountain for now,” Sam answered somewhat hesitantly. “Then we can figure out where to bury them before I reactivate them.”
            Again Fish Girl gave no verbal answer but Adya could hear her obviously struggling to carry the mine over to the designated area.
            “Hey!” he called out, turning his head towards the noise she was making so she’d know he was addressing her. “What’s your name? I’m not a big fan of nicknames so I’d rather not have to keep referring to you as Fish Girl.”
            She was quiet for a moment.
            “Lillibet,” she eventually answered softy. “My name is Lillibet. Or Lilli.”
            “Hi Lilli. I’m Adya and if you can shorten that I’ll be impressed,” he responded with a smile. “This is Sam.”
            “Hi.”
            Sam’s voice was ever so shy.
            “Hi.”
            Lilli’s voice wasn’t much better.
            Adya smiled.
            “Adya?” Lilli called out suddenly after a few minutes of companionable silence. “Did you really sing to the Gamemakers?”
            “I did.”
            “Would you sing something for us now?”
            Her request was softly spoken, hesitant as though she expected him to refuse without giving it a second thought.
            “Sure,” he answered instead, smiling across at them. “Any requests?”
            “I doubt you’d know any of the songs from my District,” she responded sadly. “Something different might be nice though.”
            “Sam?” Adya asked.
            “Whatever you want to sing,” the younger boy responded.
            Adya nodded, settling into a more comfortable position as he decided what song to sing for them, the knife placed carefully on the ground beside his right foot.
            He wanted to sing something that would cheer them up, that would distract them from the impending slaughter looming in their futures.
            And yet the song that came to mind couldn’t be described as cheerful.
            It was hopeful, however, so maybe that would be enough for now.
“Black clouds are behind me, I now can see ahead.
Often I wonder why I try hoping for an end.
Sorrow weighs my shoulders down,
And trouble haunts my mind.
But I know the present will not last,
And tomorrow will be kinder.”
Running his fingers through the long grass beneath him he smiled as he heard Sam and Lilli give up on their work, dropping whatever they had been using to dig up the mines before settling themselves down to listen to him.
“Tomorrow will be kinder.
It's true, I've seen it before.
A brighter day is coming my way.
Yes, tomorrow will be kinder.”
His lilting voice was picked up by the gentle breeze, spreading it through the clearing until it seemed to echo inside the cornucopia.
“Today I've cried a many tear, and pain is in my heart.
Around me lies a somber scene, I don't know where to start.
“But I feel warmth on my skin,
The stars have all aligned.
The wind has blown, but now I know,
That tomorrow will be kinder.”
It was inevitable that the lyrics of the song would bring his friend to mind.
            Una.
            The pain in his heart was for her.
He could still hear the echo of her scream playing the back of his mind.
“Tomorrow will be kinder.
I know, I've seen it before.
A brighter day is coming my way.
Yes, tomorrow will be kinder.
A brighter day is coming my way.
Yes, tomorrow will be kinder.”
            “Huh…” Lilli mumbled once he was finished, his head tilted back to enjoy the breeze moving through the clearing. “And you sang for the Gamemakers like that?”
            “I might have been a little bit more emotional, different song and all, but yes, basically,” Adya responded, rubbing his chest over his heart which had clenched uncomfortably as he sang, the words striking a deep chord within him. “Why?”
            “I was just wondering why they only gave you a training score of one if that’s the kind of thing you can produce at a moment’s notice.”
            “What, you think I should have been given a higher score?” Adya couldn’t help but scoff, smiling in her direction. “Could’ve sworn the aim of the game was to use our skills to survive to the end, be that a skill for fighting, hiding or tinkering.”
            This last skill was aimed across at where he could hear Sam doing just that.
            Tinkering.
            “I don’t think a talent for singing is viewed as being all that useful in here.”
            “Well…no…but I would’ve scored you higher, that’s all,” Lilli admitted, grunting almost painfully as she’d been unearthing for the duration of his song into her arms. “You’ve got a really nice voice.”
            “Thank you.”
            They worked in silence for a little while, Adya playing with the grass underneath him as he listened to the two of them make their way around the edge of the cornucopia digging up the currently non-lethal mines.
            “Is there anything I could be doing to help?” he eventually called out, sick of feeling entirely useless. “Something which doesn’t require, you know, sight?”
            “You could always give us something to listen to while we work,” Sam suggested as he staggered over to add another mine to the growing collection behind Adya. “It would be nice to have something to listen to while we work.”
            “Ok,” Adya agreed, wiping the bits of grass he’d gotten stuck to his fingers off on his trousers. “Just don’t be afraid to tell me to shut up if you don’t like the song or you get bored of listening to me. I won’t be offended.”
            And so, in the middle of the Hunger Games with the possibility of death just around the corner, he sang.
            He lost himself to the words…
To the melodies…
To the feelings each song succeeded in stirring deep inside of him…
            He allowed his mind to transport him back to happier times as song after song seemed to pour almost effortlessly out of him.
            Sam and Lilli had finished digging up the mines by the time the careers arrived back at the camp, hungry and frustrated after an unsuccessful day.
            Adya was mid-song.
            “What the…?”
            It was Sam who hushed the female career.
            Adya ducked his head to hide the broad grin which spread across his face before finishing the song with a dramatic flourish as he mentally praised the young tribute for standing up to the sharp tongued career.
            A familiar body settled down beside him.
            “One more and then I’m done for the day,” he croaked, his voice a little tired after singing for longer than he had in weeks.
            No one expressed an objection.
            He didn’t really think about the song before launching into it.
            Didn’t think about the way the lyrics of the old song, taught to him by his mother who had learnt it from her mother before her, could be interpreted as something far more rebellious than he intended them to be.
            To him it was just a song.
“Through the dark,
And through the hunger.
Through the night,
And through the fear.
Through the fight,
And years of hardship.
Through the storms,
And through the tears.
And although your feet are weary,
And although your soul is worn.
And although they'll try to break you,
And although you'll feel alone.
We will always stand together,
In the dark, right through the storm.
We will stand, shoulder to shoulder,
To keep us warm.”
            A hand slipped into his, linking their fingers together and squeezing gently.
            Cato.
            Offering him silent support as he sang.
            He couldn’t help but smile towards the older boy as he launched into the slightly faster part of the song, punching the words out as clearly as he could.
“And the stars look down on the mean and hungry,
And the stars look down and show the way.
And the stars look down and we'll stand together,
To see a day.
When the stars look down and know our history,
When the stars look down upon our past.
And the stars look down and see a future bright at last,
When we'll stand as one, beneath the sun.”
            As he sang he brought Cato’s hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the smooth skin before playing with the strong fingers almost absentmindedly.
“And though our hands,
Are bruised and bleeding.
And our lungs are full with dust.
And our hearts are near to breaking,
We will never forgo the trust.
We will fight through pain and hunger,
Every arrow, every knife.
And we will never give the hope up,
Of a proud and honest life.
So we will always stand together,
Through the frost, the hail, the snow.
The stars are our redemption,
And so we know.”
            Never before had the words of the song meant so much to him.
            Never before had he really thought about what they really meant.
“The stars look down when we're abandoned,
Look down in the heart of night.
And the stars look down and give us vision,
To see the light.
The stars look down upon our struggle,
The stars look down and know the past.
The stars look down and see a future bright at last,
When we'll stand as one, beneath the sun.
All out together.
All out as one.
All out for victory.
Till we've won.
All out together.
All out as one.
All out for victory.
All out till we've won.”
            He had no idea that his words had just fanned the sparks of a revolution beginning to grow in the background of the 74^th Hunger Games.
            All he had done was sing a song.

A/N So the “revolution song” at the end…first time I heard this I couldn’t stop picturing District 12 and the revolution and so I just had to work it into this story somewhere. For those of you interested it is “Stars Look Down” from the musical Billy Elliot, lyrics by Elton John. The first song was “Tomorrow Will Be Kinder” by The Secret Sisters and can be found, funnily enough, on the Hunger Games soundtrack.
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