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They were being lifted up. Up so high.

His arms never loosened from around her, holding her so tightly like she was going to wither away into a cloud of musty smoke.

The minute they were inside the hovercraft, a team of white clad medical personnel rushed forward, pulling her limp form from him.

The snarl that ripped from his throat was quite like the one's of large animals that he and Lisa hunted. It was the last effort that they would have, cornered and scared. All before his arrow would penetrate their neck. Fearful, frightened, and desperate. He didn't think he had ever made a sound like that before in his whole entire life.

More white coated people rushed at him. He felt large arms wrapping around his own arms, pulling him back. The icy sting of the needle was at his neck.

And then there was blackness at his doorstep, Jo's name on his lips, as it swallowed him up.

Beeping was the first thing he heard when the darkness lifted. Bright lights were above him, piercing into his corneas and making him wince.

He was strapped down to a table, his wrists and ankle bound tightly, along with one thick piece over his midsection. He was able to lift his head slightly, taking in his surroundings.

He was still in the hovercraft, the hospital wing. He was in a glass covered box like alcove, machines beeping around him. An oxygen mask was on his face, trying to sooth the difficulty of breathing that he didn't even realize he had had.

His vision focused even more. He was able to see through the blisteringly bright glass now.

He could see the team of white clad doctors surrounding a table. He could see the machines showing a very shaky heartbeat.

It took him a minute to realize who exactly they were working on.

The rhythmic beeping then stilled, going into one long drone. The doctors began working faster, trying to get her heart beating again.

Dean screamed her name, knowing that he was to be ignored but having it not matter anyway. He thrashed against his binding, trying so desperately to move even just one inch.

The shrill cry of asystole continued on. The doctors weren't having any success.

"Wait a minute!"

Dean froze, listening closely.

The shrillness ended then, going into that beautiful, musical beat once again.

"She's back."

And it went on and on like that. Over the next two hours, Dean counted three more times that Jo's heart stopped. It took that long to finally stabilize her.

They took her away after that, removing her still body from his view.

"No! NO!"

He was too busy screaming and hollering to even notice the nurse enter his room and send that pretty awesome drug into his IV. Moments later, his screams died in his throat and he found himself floating into the dreamlike state of nothingness once again.

Meg's hands were surprisingly gentle as they softly skimmed across his forehead.

For once, he was grateful to see her.

"Did Jo make it?" he whispered through the mask that was still on his face.

Meg nodded. "She's going to be just fine." That was when Dean finally allowed the much needed sleep to take him over.

"They're not happy with you."

"Because I didn't die? Well, they can go shove it where-"

"Tiger, I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you."

Dean grimaced but obeyed. "When can I see Jo?"

Bobby let out a sigh, leaning back in his chair. "They want your reunion to be live and real when you have your final interview with Balthazar tomorrow night."

"Is she okay?"

"She's doing beautifully." For the first time, Bobby allowed himself to smile. "It was touch and go there for a while but she pulled through. Both of you were hurt worse than you had thought."

He was right about that one. Dean learned once they had taken him off of the sedatives that he had actually had three cracked ribs and several deep infected lacerations on his abdomen. The infections were cleared up, the ribs taped tightly and healing quickly. He had also learned that Jo's spleen had ruptured when she had been stabbed by Brady. The medication that Dean had collected at the Feast had stalled the effects that a ruptured spleen would have. When they had fought with Brady on top of the Cornucopia, it had caused Jo to start bleeding internally. She had nearly bled to death by the time the doctors got a hold of her on the hovercraft.

"So, what do you think?" Dean found himself asking. When he saw Bobby's confused look, he explained. "You finally have a winner. And not just one."

Bobby sighed. "I just think that you two are the luckiest two ever. That stunt that you pulled with the arrows-"

"What can they do to me?"

Famous last words.

"Dean, you have no idea what they can do to you. They don't take these kind of things lightly."

The time had come.

The prep team had woken him up at the crack of dawn, hustling and bustling around in an avid attempt to make him look somewhat presentable for the big reunion that night.

He had received a full body polish, cleaning his skin of every scar and mark that he had received in the arena and all of the others that he had had gone in with from hunting and just surviving day to day in District 12. The crooked fingers were now straight, all the badly healed breaks from the arena and even before fixed to a perfection, despite the healing throb every time he bent those joints. His ribs were still taped up tightly but otherwise, he was in pretty good shape.

And then Castiel came in, a garment bag over his arm. He quietly ushered the prep team out on the pretext of some alone time with Dean. Once they had left, he pulled something from his pocket.

Dean's eyes widened in surprise as he took in the tiny object hanging from the cord.

The amulet.

"Oh, my...they took that from me again when they picked us up-thank you, Castiel."

Castiel smiled. "You're welcome." He laid it down on the night table and picked up the garment bag from the bed. "Are you ready to see what you will be wearing?"

Dean chuckled softly. "As long as Jo and I don't match, you could dress me in a donkey suit and I wouldn't care."

This time, Castiel laughed. He unzipped the garment bag, revealing a white and black suit with brown edgings to it. It wasn't the same thick suit he had worn at his interview the first week, it was more soft and the fabric had a good feel to it. It reminded him slightly of the suit that Ben had worn.

Dean realized then at that moment that Castiel was trying to make him look innocent, not like the killer in the arena.

"It isn't good, is it?" he whispered, his eyes taking in the suit.

Castiel watched him for a second before he gave a very slight shake of the head. It was so tiny that Dean almost missed it.

"No."

"I will see you out there."

Dean was afraid. For the first time since he had learned Jo was going to be all right, he was afraid. He didn't want to go out there in front of Panem.

Bobby's words kept pounding over and over in his head. Something big was going to happen. It may not even be visible to the people in Panem but he would know and he would suffer greatly.

"Okay," he replied to Castiel. "Thank you."

Cas cast him a warm smile before slipping back through the door. Bobby was going to come and collect him for the interview. He still had a few minutes to prepare, to think about what was to come.

That was when he heard the light knock.

"Come in," he whispered, already knowing who was on the other side of the door.

Azazel slithered through the doorway, eyes as unforgiving as a cobra ready to strike. He was dressed in his best beige suit, his lips brought up in a deadly smirk.

"Well, well. How are you feeling tonight, Dean?" he asked, his eyes looking up and down at the young man.

Dean adjusted his jacket and turned slowly. "I'm fine, thank you."

"It's interesting, you know, how many victors find their ways to the very end of the Games. And just how many times it comes in the last five minutes of the actual Games. It determines who's really the stronger one in the situation."

The elder man lowered himself down onto the bed, his cane giving him the support that he needed. He then spotted the amulet still laying on the nightstand. His meaty fingers slipped through the cord and lifted it up, examining it.

"This is lovely," he murmured.

"Thank you. It's from my district," Dean replied.

"It's interesting how one tiny little thing, like this, can give someone strength and power to keep going."

"I wouldn't say it just fell with that, Azazel," Dean whispered.

Dean found himself standing back, trying to keep a good distance between himself and the president. Azazel then released his tight grip on the amulet and held it out to Dean. Dean took a delicate steo forward and took it from him, quickly replacing it around his neck where it belonged.

"I do have to say, you surprised me in there," muttered Azazel.

"I did?" he replied quietly.

"Yes, you did," said Azazel. "But-" He raised a meaty finger. "There should have been only one victor."

"So what do you suppose?" asked Dean. "That I had let Jo die when Brady stabbed her? I could be the happy little victor all by myself and you can carry on these torture games?"

"That would have been the better option, Dean," Azazel sighed.

"And what are you going to do about it? You can't kill me. You can't kill Jo. You would have an uprising on your hands if you caused harm to either one of us."

"I know that."

"So what then? What exactly can you do to me?"

Famous last words once again.

Azazel took a deep breath. "It will be interesting to see how you do at the Quarter Quell next year, mentoring your own brother."

It was like time stood still for a few seconds. Dean took in the information, the words of hell that his enemy had just said. That couldn't be right. That couldn't be real.

"You wouldn't."

He just smiled. "And who says I can't?"

Dean's stomach dropped. "Anything but that, Azazel," he whispered. "Anything but that."

"Anything?"

"Whatever it takes to get you to leave my brother and my family the hell alone."

The bastard had backed him into a corner. He had nothing, absolutely nothing left to use against this man. Azazel had him at his mercy.

"You come and work for me," the elder whispered lethally.

Dean stared.

"I work for you? Here in the Capitol?"

"Precisely."

"What do I do?"

"You will find that out soon enough."

"No!" Dean burst out, stepping forward. "No, you tell me right now, you son of a bitch. You tell me now or I am backing out of this whole deal."

"You do that and you will regret what happens."

"Excuse me?"

"You break our deal and I will make sure that you suffer. You will watch every one that you have ever loved perish right in front of you, slowly and painfully. Your father...your 'cousin'," the snake lifted up two fingers on each hand in the air quotes. The bastard knew about Lisa. "Your precious Jo and her family. I hear that you are really close with the whole family, not just the daughter."

"Is that what this is about? You didn't believe us as lovers?"

"It's part of the Game, Dean," said Azazel. "This is just another play in this magnificent Game."

This was the last thing that Dean had ever expected to happen. He had sworn to himself that he would never be a piece in this Games, not a move in the deadly game of chess. But he was. He was standing here, getting ready for the King to take him out, the lowly knight.

It was then when he gave in. There was no way he could win. Not now, not here.

Sam's face flashed in front of his eyes.

Lisa.

Ben.

Jo.

His mother taking her last choking breath before sucuumbing to the pneumonia that had nearly killed seven year old Sam in the process.

He couldn't let them become pieces. He couldn't let them just be moves in this wicked game of chess. Even his mother. The Capitol had stood by and watched her die, allowed them all to starve nearly to death.

"For how long?" he finally whispered.

"For how long what?" Azazel asked politely, his eyes flashing.

"How long do you want me to 'work' for you?!" Dean nearly shouted.

"Oh, I will leave that up to you," Azazel chuckled. "Believe me, Dean. I don't want to kill you. You are absolutely right. If I kill you or Jo, I will most definitely have an uprising on my hands and we can't have that now, can we? How would it look when the new victors of the Seventy Fourth Hunger Games suddenly drop dead? That would look kind of fishy, wouldn't it?"

Dean continued to glare, not saying anything.

"So I think that just ruining your name and making you look like a traitor that you are will be worth it. How about for as long as Sam's name remains in the Reaping, you will be here?"

"What do you mean?" Dean finally asked.

"For the next six years, I can guarantee that Sam's name will not come out of that glass ball."

That was the last thing that Dean expected. "Are you serious? You will fix it to protect Sam as long as I am here?"

The cobra nodded. "Absolutely. You have my word on that."

"And look where that got me," Dean murmured under his breath, sure that Azazel had heard him.

"You will remain here for six years, only seeing your mentor and your co-victor when you mentor future tributes. You will regard them with nothing but aloofness and coolness and you can work together to maybe make another victor from District 12. And when your time is up, I will alert your family and someone will come to collect you and take you home. Your family will be perfectly safe and they will have benefited from your win. But I think by then, the tiger will be just a little bit tired."

Slavery for him or the Hunger Games for Sam.

His decision to go into the Games for his brother, fighting until the very end...it would all have been for nothing.

Hands down, he knew what his choice would be. There was no question about it.

"Do we have a deal?"

He took a deep breath. He pressed his palms into his eyes in a vain effort to stem back the heat.

"Do I get to say goodbye?"

Azazel shook his head. "You will go to the interviews and the rally tonight. You will liven it up with your precious Jo and make it look the best night ever for the audience. You know where to take it from there."

Yes. Yes, he did know where to take it.

At that moment, Dean was highly regretting not letting Ruby's knife go right into his chest. He should have died that chilly afternoon.

"We have a deal."

He had thought the Hunger Games were over. He had thought he was going to be free. His family would benefit and he would just be able to go home.

But now, there were much worse games to play.

END OF PART ONE

Dun-duh-dun-dun-DUN!

Bet you weren't expecting that, huh?

When I originally started writing these, I did have the intention to write Catching Fire and Mockingjay with people taking the places of all the roles. But I couldn't find anyone who could take the place of Finnick. He had to have been the perfect candidate for the placement and the only one I could really think of that would work perfectly was Dean himself. So instead of having Azazel/Snow threatening his family and making Dean/Katniss go into another Hunger Games, I came up with this where he does a swap. Dean's slavery for his family's safety, hence 'demon deal'. It's also loosely based after the end of Season 2 when Azazel makes Jake do his doing and threatens his family in the process. I actually thought the end of Season 2 before Sam was killed was just like a Hunger Games set up, Azazel orchestrating the whole 'only one can come out alive' debacle.

Now, I hope you understand the time jump that will be happening in the sequel. I am not going to write any chapters about Dean's time in the Capitol but I will include bits in flashbacks. And that awaited Sam and Dean reunion will take place in Chapter Two. Everyone will be older and nobody will really understand why Dean did what he did, nobody getting an explanation because Dean never returned home.

Anyway, reviews are loved. Even yelling and screaming will be fine. :)

I want to thank each and every one of you for being so wonderful from day one, especially neverendingwars, LiveLoveImagine, and DaughterofPosedian333. If there are any others that I missed, I am sorry but you know how much I love ya!

Onto the sequel! "carry on, my wayward son" is up right now!