Monsters

"Katniss," I heard a rough voice behind me.

I turn around and see Cato. He walks off and gestures that I follow. I maneouver around our fellow partygoers, mostly other mentors and a few sponsors. We come to a narrow hallway with a few other people in it. I can't help but wonder what this is about. Cato and I haven't spoken in over two years. We had an unspoken agreement that silence would make it easier. We wouldn't have to remember.

"What's this about, Cato?"

"I just . . . can we sit down?"

I look around us. Not a chair in sight. "On the floor?" I must sound like such a Capitol person when I say it.

He nods, sitting. I sit across from him.

"So . . . what is it?"

"I just . . . I'm not sure how to put this. I just wanted to say thank you so much for saving me. I've never said it. I should have before, but . . . it never seemed like the right time. It still doesn't. But here I am. So . . . thanks."

I look at him, head tilted. Can I believe him? His words, if true, would come as a bit of a shock. This is Cato. Cato, leader of the Careers. Cato, the one whose band would fight over who got to kill who. That's just sick.

"I heard about Peeta."

I stand, starting to leave. He can tell that Peeta's a touchy subject, and grabs my arm. "Don't leave. We don't have to talk about him."

I sit again, looking at him, wondering if he'll say anything. I say nothing, and wait to see if he'll continue. He does. "You must have known when you put those berries to my mouth that I'd have slaughtered you, given the chance. It amazes me that you had enough compassion for me to save my life. Even if I knew that I could let you and Peeta live, I wouldn't have. It sounds horrible, but it's true. I would have killed you both."

I look at him, straight in the eyes, suddenly very angry. "You killed eight people so that you could win the Games. Eight people. Dead. No one here realizes it, but I do. The Capitol glorifies you for those lives that you ended. You get money, and fame, and everyone loves you. You think that it's okay, but it's not okay. You'd kill again. You're a monster. I didn't save you because I like you. Or because I thought that I could see something in the depths of your black heart that was good. Because I can't. I saved you because I didn't want to have to kill you. I'm not you. I'm not a monster."

His lip twitches, like he wants to say something. But he says nothing. His body convulses and he starts sobbing. Uncontrollably. I don't want to comfort him. But with the looks most people in the room were giving us, I'd have to.

I awkwardly lean forward and rub his back a little. "It's okay." But really, it's not okay at all. I won't take anything back that I've said to him. Because it's all true. I continue rubbing his back for a while, but he's still convulsing. So I run my fingers through his hair, then tilt his head upward, looking at him. "You've got to stop crying, Cato. Everyone's watching us." Maybe I am a monster.

He sniffles. "Everyone's always watching. They'll never stop watching."

I realize that this isn't going to work. The only way I'll get people to stop staring at us is to leave. I stand, and help him to his weave our way through the now-silent crowd, and out the exit. The party is in the Training Center, which is conveniently where both of our rooms are. The question is, mine or his? I'm not sure what Cato might do to himself if he's left alone, so I decide on mine. It's two floors above the party, and the elevators don't seem to be working. So we climb the stairs, and are soon at my door. We go inside, and I lead Cato to the huge lays down and I run my fingers thorough his hair again. His eyes are closed, but he's still crying. "Just go to sleep."

I stand and start walking towards the other bed, when Cato cries out. "Please . . . just come lay down with me."

I think about it for a second before walking back to him, lying on the opposite side and facing away from Cato. I close my eyes, but I know I'll never sleep.

"I'm sorry for what I said to you earlier."

"I'm sorry that I made you leave the party."

"I'm sorry that I almost didn't give you the berries."

"I'm sorry about Peeta."

I don't get angry. Not this time.

"It's not your fault."

"I'm still sorry."

"Me too."

I hear him shifting on the bed, and then feel one arm wrap around my body. He kisses the top of my head gently. It feels good to lay with him. I close my eyes. Because when I can't see, and the lights are out, I can pretend that it's Peeta that's holding me. Peeta that I'm lying with.

I miss you, Peeta.

Ok. So. A little author's note before I post this. First off: I hate this story so so so so much, so if you don't like it, don't worry. Neither do I. I liked it originally. But I accidentally deleted it! And so you get the shitty re-written from my memory version! Congratulations to you! :D Haha. But seriously. I hate this. Probably will rewrite it soon. I mean, a first chapter can't be this horrible.