Author's Note: Hello there! I've been waiting for a long time to write this one-shot, but I never had an idea that I thought did Cato justice. I found the quote at the beginning of this story one day and I thought it perfectly described Cato's situation, and that was the birth of this story. I really do hope you enjoy it, I'm not normally one to write in 3rd person. I'd love to hear what you think of this story, so please do review, and enjoy 'Irreversible Monster!'

'No man chooses evil because it is evil; he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks.'

Irreversible Monster

As the girl with the dark braid holds her bow poised at the two tributes scuffling in front of her on the cornucopia, she has no idea of the turmoil that the large, District 2 boy is feeling.

"Go on." He says, the movement causing the blood from his mouth to spurt over his lips, oozing down his chin and making him seem like a gruesome caricature. He loosens his hold on Katniss' partner for a second and then tightens his biceps again, as if gesturing to the position they are in. "Do it. Shoot us both down and you win." The girl doesn't reply and he knows that he has her right where he wants her. He can win this, go home and be happy. But for some reason, he no longer wants it.

"You're just an irreversible monster!" Katniss spits at her enemy. She expects her words to hurt him, innocently believing for a second that he could be taken down by such things, even though that weakness is long gone.
"I know."

An infant playing in a bright room under the watchful eye of two men. He is playing with building blocks, his stubby fingers attempting to grip each block and stack it on top of the others with precision almost too careful for a child. He enjoys building these structures, feeling happy that he has made something so tall. When he builds alongside other children, his is always the tallest.

"That's no victor, Brutus." One of the men watching the boy mutters, "I don't know what potential you see in him. He just sits there all day playing with these silly blocks. And after I spent so much time getting that sword custom-made for him!" The bald man who is looking at the child laughs.

"Claus, you overreact to everything. He's four years old for Panem's sake, and that sword is barely wider than a toothpick. Watch your son for once in your life; look at how careful and controlled his movements are when he builds those towers, he will grow up to be an amazing swordsman. His blue eyes and blonde hair will only increase his sponsor chances, that boy is going to be a perfect tribute once we get some muscle on him and put some sadism in that head of his."

Without waiting for a reply, the man named Brutus moves over to the young boy, where he sits patiently until he finishes building his newest tower, a structure that is one block higher than the one before it.
"Cato," He murmurs, "That is a good tower, well done. But destruction is more fun. Watch me." With the child's blue eyes following his every move, the man uses a finger to knock the top block, causing a chain reaction that topples the entire tower. Turning back to the boy, he gives the wide eyed child a smile, which is returned. His training begins.

"Go on. I'm dead anyways. I always was, right?" Cato's laugh sounds forced and raspy, as if it pains him. It most likely does. If he doesn't get medical attention soon, he will bleed out and die atop the cornucopia. A weak death. The boy held prisoner in the career's arms whines quietly, scrabbling at the arms around his neck in the hope that he can escape.

"Let go of him, or I will shoot you! I'll do it!" Katniss shouts, getting desperate in the final moments of battle. There is no way she can fire at Cato's head, the risk of hitting her ally is much too high now.

"Of course you will."

A 10 year old boy getting dragged out of the house. He is being taken to a parked car; ready and waiting to take him away. Cato is screaming as his father pulls him, telling him that he doesn't want to leave. He doesn't want to go to the academy. The show of weakness earns him a slap in the face and it silences him long enough for his father to lift him off the ground and shove him into the back of the car.

He instantly has his hands pressed against the windows, beating helplessly against the glass. His father is turned away from him in shame. His older brother, home for the weekend, laughs at his pitiful excuse for a brother. His mother is the only one that cares at all, and she has the decency to hide her tears behind a handkerchief as her little boy is taken away.

"I was always dead, right?" Cato continues, beginning to feel the effects of the blood loss, "Didn't know that until now!" Katniss frowns slightly, this battle is not going the way she thought it would. It's becoming harder and harder to kill her enemy in cold blood, especially when he is saying things like this. She's sure he knows his fate now, this speech would be instant execution material if he ever got out of the arena alive.

"How's that, is that what they want?!"

A 13 year old boy locked in a cell.

"Are you going to admit to what you have done, Cato?" One of the peacekeepers that dragged him into the cell asks him, his face too close to the teen for comfort. He shines a light into his face and the bright light causes Cato's drooping eyelids to flutter quickly. He was supposed to be at his first reaping today, but he had been blamed for an accident to the young man who was due to volunteer this year and he had been arrested, drugged, and carried away during training the day before.

"But I didn't do anything!" The boy screeches, not caring if anyone happens to hear him. Either he is the only one down in these rooms or the walls are soundproof, because he's heard no sound ever since he woke up on the floor. One of the peacekeepers suddenly stomps down on Cato's chest with his booted foot, causing him to curl up in a ball and cradle his frame.

"We're going to ask that again. If you knew what was good for you, you would admit to what you have done."

"Okay!" Cato shouts, his hair dirty with grime and sweat, "It was me! I wanted to volunteer this year, I'm sorry!" Everything that is coming out of his mouth is a lie, and it makes him feel sick.

"Is that what you want? Is that what you want to hear?"

Katniss brings up her bow and pulls the string taught. It's time to end this. Cato's body is beginning to shake, and the words coming out of his mouth are beginning to sound like nonsense.

"I can still do this, I can still do this! One more kill. It's the only thing I know how to do, bringing pride to my district." Cato's eyes are wild, and he looks frightened. If Katniss hadn't seen the horrific things he had done during the games, maybe she would have felt more pity for him. But with all his career walls collapsing, it was getting easier to believe that maybe somewhere deep inside there was a heart that could have been salvaged.

A 16 year old boy at a funeral. He stays in the background, wringing his hands in agony as various people stand on the stage and talk about his brother. He had been the first speaker, talking strongly about how much he admired his brother's skills in training. That's what everyone was talking about. How good his swordsmanship was, how he could hit a target with a spear 50 meters away. What about his personality? Was he funny, kind, smart? Cato didn't know. His brother had boarded at the academy in a different sector, he barely knew him.

His brother's eulogy read 'Strong fighter. Died on the journey towards victory of the 71st annual Hunger Games. Never forgotten.' Was that all that his brother was? A tribute that failed to make it to the end? Is that all he would ever be?

At the end of the ceremony, Cato's father approaches him. There is no grief on his father's face that day; he sits in the pews with a stony expression.

"Cato, now that your brother has died, I expect you to increase your training. You will do what your brother failed to do. That's all you want to do, isn't it Cato? Bring pride to your district. Where else are you going to go? You can't do anything but fight, it's the only thing you know how to do."

Cato is promptly returned to the academy as soon as it's deemed appropriate. He has no time to grieve, and no way to release the emotions he's feeling. All he can do is fight. The boy he passes when he enters just happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The simple greeting somehow winds him the wrong way, and Cato cracks the boy's head against the wall in anger and grief. He knows no other way to show feelings now; he's been stripped down to the perfect monster. The boy he injures has to be taken to hospital and never fights again. This time, however, Cato isn't punished.

"Not that it matters." Cato's voice is at a whisper when Katniss releases the arrow, and the sound of the weapon travelling through the air nearly overcomes his voice. The arrow lodges deep into the young man's hand and he roars in pain that he barely feels, shading his thoughts for a second, which is enough time for Katniss and her ally to push him off the cornucopia. The muttations, who had strangely been sitting quietly this whole time, almost as if they were also watching Cato's fall into insanity, suddenly spring to life and begin to tear the blonde boy apart.

Screams turn into wails, which eventually fade into whimpers. Maybe at this point, Cato finally realises that his whole life has been wrong, misinformation. Maybe it's for the best that he is dying, he became a monster a long time ago, but maybe it isn't too late to save the two remaining tributes, who are peering over the cornucopia and staring at him as he suffers, people that haven't yet been tainted by the Capitol.

As he calls out "Please" to Katniss, asking for a merciful kill, one last memory comes to his mind. A memory that he finally understands. And even as he is about to die, it gives him hope.

An 18 year old boy on reaping day. He is strongly built, tall with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. He stands in the holding room after volunteering, all his guests having come and gone. "Win" says his father. Suddenly the door in the corner opens and he stands, expecting a peacekeeper to escort him to the train, but instead it is his trainer. The one who taught him all his skills.

He wraps his arms tightly around Cato as he hugs him, making the new tribute uncomfortable. No one ever showed him this sort of affection, and he doesn't expect them too. After the routine greeting and well wishing, someone pounds on the door warning them that there is not much time, and his trainer says something unexpected as a farewell.

"It's a shame, Cato. You could have been somebody amazing." Cato instantly puffs his chest out, but knows not to get violent with someone he has such a great respect for.

"But I'm going to be a victor, I'm going to win this!"

"Yes…" The trainer whispers, "But that isn't all there is. If only you hadn't been controlled by that father of yours, you could have been great."

As Cato cries out from the ground, long after the muttations have left his bloody body, Katniss almost feels regret that she called him an irreversible monster. Really, he is just another Capitol victim, brainwashed to believe that the happiness he is seeking is found at the end of the Hunger Games. She hopes that before he dies, he will realise the truth. As bad as someone like him is, he is not the one to blame.

As she fires the arrow into his skull, silencing his cries for good, she almost calls out an apology for her words. But she doesn't. Because he's an irreversible monster and you can't take something like that back.