A/N: This is my first Cato/Katniss fanfic. Normally I ship Everlark, but a little change never hurts anyone ;) Anywho, I do not own the Hunger Games, all rights to Suzanne Collins. WARNING: SENSITIVE MATERIAL IN THIS STORY! 18+ ONLY!
Peeta is dead. The cut in his leg did him in when trying to run from the mutts. It is Cato and I, and I'm paralyzed as I watch the brutal monster from Two in front of me. He knows what I am thinking; he is able to read my every thought, my every move. We are two of a kind, Cato and I. We are both hunters. We are strong, we are fierce. There is a fire within both of us that no one can quench.
"Katniss, you know it won't—"
I hold a finger to his mouth, shifting my gaze to those beautiful ice colored eyes, the ones that I have come to know, come to memorize, and maybe even love.
"It is the only way Cato, you and I both know this."
He nods, keeping his determined stance and stoic expression. I knew this was a mistake, falling for him. There is no room for love in the Hunger Games. It's kill, or be killed; be strong or be weak. We chose to be strong and fight; he chose to fight for honor and fame, I chose to fight for Prim, for Gale, for my mother. But that doesn't stop me from having feelings for him.
I pull the nightlock from my pocket, giving him a fair amount of the poisonous berries, knowing that we'll no longer be a piece in their games. If we can't survive the Games together, if we can't walk away in one piece together, then we shall die together. I look into his eyes once more, studying his features as if trying to memorize them before death. The way his blue eyes dance as they stare into my own grey ones, his perfect angular features; his blonde hair that stands perfectly sculpted as if the stylist fixed him up for an interview; his sculpted muscles that threaten to tear his tribute shirt to shreds with the slightest movement.
"Together?"
His voice does not waver, as if we aren't about to commit suicide; as if we aren't about to leave everyone we know and love behind.
"Together."
His hand touches my face lightly, pulling my chin up slightly as if he wants me to be the last thing he sees before we are called to some deity. My lips part slightly, my features as stoic as his, unwavering, defiant even. Snow must be out of his mind with rage; the last two tributes in the arena about to commit suicide: where will his precious victor be now? I nuzzle my face against his hand lightly, moving closer to him in the process. Will this all be worth it? Yes, Snow will kill Prim, my mother, and Gale and his family. Death would surely be better than District Twelve or Panem for that matter.
"On the count of three?"
His voice breaks my train of thought, but it does not show.
"Yes."
My voice is light and airy; my father will be waiting for us, as will Peeta, Clove, Thresh, and Rue. They are calling us home.
"One…"
This is it; there is no going back now.
"Two…"
I love you Prim. I love you Gale.
"Three."
We put the berries in our mouths, but I see him mouth the words before everything fades into darkness, before… before…
I jolt awake screaming, my thin night gown clinging to me; a sheen of sweat from either the nightmare or the summer night air. I feel a protective arm encase around my middle, pulling me closer to a different set of muscles.
"Katniss… are you alright?"
I nod slowly, trying to envelope myself into his body heat. I close my eyes, envisioning a different voice, a different set of blue eyes.
"Yeah… Just another nightmare about Cato and the mutts…"
My voice waivers slightly as the tears threaten to escape. Peeta pulls me closer, his soft lips touching my right temple as he attempts to soothe me.
"It's okay… It's all over with; real or not real?"
I nod, knowing that the Hunger Games are over with, that they no longer exist. The only things left of them are memorials, memories, nightmares, and ghosts.
"Real. It was just a nightmare."
Even after all these years, I never had the courage to tell Peeta that after the Games, I ended up realizing my feelings for Cato were much more than I willed myself to believe, that I spent a night with another; that I trusted the bloody, brutal monster from Two. That I unintentionally fell in love with Cato in which he was the reason I was allowed to survive for so long. I can't do that to him; it would completely destroy Peeta.
He seems to accept this answer before moving my face lightly to look into his eyes. They are different from Cato's; the man before me has eyes as beautiful as the ocean, as opposed the ice cold blue of the man that I loved too little too late. But I smile lightly, knowing that if this wasn't meant to be, it would not have happened. I lay my head gently on his chest, his muscles rippling slightly as he pulls his arms tighter around me, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. But when he asks me whether I love him, real or not real, I bite my lip before answering, knowing I'll always hold the monster from Two close to my heart, but Peeta is my glimmer of hope, my dandelion in the spring. He's there to remind me that no matter how bad life gets, something greater will come of it. So when I tell him real, I accept that all these years later, I will never forget Cato, only that I have his blessing to move on with my life and live.
