"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

Rigor mortis wasn't supposed to start until after death, but Snow's address might as well have been her death certificate, so Cashmere wasn't surprised that her body went rigid. There was no way she wouldn't be called; the Capitol would want their favorites back in the Arena, and only fools believed the Reapings were truly random. She wanted to cry and scream and throw a knife into the face of whoever wrote this god-damned Quarter Quell, but she couldn't. Instead, she sat there, unmoving.

She heard the sound of her front door opening and heavy footsteps, but she couldn't bring herself to get up and confront the intruder. "Cashmere!" her brother's voice called. "Cashmere?"

Oh no. Cashmere hadn't considered that Gloss might be reaped along with her. She couldn't do this alone, but she certainly couldn't go into the Arena knowing that her brother must die if she wanted to live.

Gloss gathered her up in his arms and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "It'll be all right, Cash," he murmured. She smiled. He hasn't called her that since they were children. Cashmere discovered that her stiffness was gone as she leaned into his embrace. "What do you think is going to happen?" her younger brother asked.

"I think we're going in again." She turned around to look at him. "We're going to need to train."

He tried to smile, but the expression fell flat. "And here I thought we were done with that joy."

"No such luck."

Gloss moved his arms away from his body and lifted his shoulders so that his neck almost disappeared. "I won't tol-rate no complainin' in my sessions. You want to be a victor?" He scowled in a perfect imitation of their old training instructor.

At that, she laughed. Cashmere had never found his impression particularly funny while they were in training, but now she couldn't stop herself from laughing hysterically. Tears ran down her face, and eventually Gloss joined her. They stayed there, rocking back and forth together, for long minutes. Cashmere wasn't certain whether she was laughing or crying.

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A/N: Thanks for reading! This was written for Caesar's Palace Shipping Week, Day 6.