Title: Dead
Fandom: The Hunger Games
Pairing: sort of implied peeniss, I guess. Maybe a little catoniss if you interpret the ending a certain way?
Plot: Towards the end of the Games, Cato's resolve weakens and he's struggling with the realization of who the enemy really is.
AN: this is somewhat AU, I suppose, but mainly canon compliant with headcanons on what Cato could've been thinking
The only word to describe Cato right now is done.
He is so fucking done.
He was raised to die, something that always niggled at the back of his mind but was ignored, shoved down, because fighting in the Games is an honor, dammit. But having Clove, the girl who was more family to him than either of his parents, die in his arms was fucking with his head, breaking his convictions, convictions that had been cracking since they first began competing and, fuck, he couldn't stand it.
I can still do this.
He thinks and clings to the thought because at least it's something. And he could, really. It'd be so easy to. He feels Loverboy draw an 'x' on his hand, and he could just slide his hand over, let the arrow bury into the other boy's chest and kill off the girl while she's overcome with grief, shock and guilt.
But he's never wanted this as much as everyone else wanted this for him. He's raised a certain way, to believe without question, but he can't do it anymore, not really. He's practiced killing, not acting, he'd be awful at trying to be something he's not.
Besides, he's done and he's been done.. probably since the beginning of the Games. The Capitol favors Districts 1, 2 and 4, worships them, even.. But love isn't something he'd used to describe what they feel for anyone. How could you send someone you love to their doom? Cheer for their injuries? Their deaths?
He's been cut too many times, with words and fists and knives and more, and left to bleed and he's just.. He's finished fighting a battle he'll never win. So, he leaves his hand planted firmly on Peeta's chest and lets the arrow sink into the meaty flesh of his thick hand and becomes a meal for the mutts.
It's poetic justice, really.
The people that controlled his upbringing controlled his death, the girl that opened his eyes closed them.
At least Loverboy and Firegirl might get a happy ending. There has never been hope for brutal, bloody Cato.
He's been dead from the beginning and he's the last to find out.