Toy Soldiers

A/N: Wanted to write a quick one-shot, as I feel I'm getting lazy. I finished Wonder, by RJ Palacio, and my heart is dead. I've had this idea in my fanfic idea Notes for awhile, I just wanted to get it out because it's been there forever. AU, Modern sorta day. Please read and review! Dedictated to one of my best friends, this is for you man. You know who you are.

"Cato, sweetie, did you put Alexandria down for her nap?"

Seven year old Cato's head snaps up at the sound of his mother. Alexandria. Widening his eyes, he sets down the army figures he had been playing with gently on the wooden floor. He had them all set up in formation, like his father had described. The Eastern Army was on the left side of the wooden floor, about ten or twenty of them. The Western Army was on the right side, and though Cato had no clue he had placed them on the wrong side, he was rather proud of his arrangement. Ever since his father departed for Afghanistan roughly two years ago, Cato had become obsessed with finding out everything about the US Army, Marines and Airforce. He wanted to become a soldier, brave and proud, just like his Dad.

Standing up, he pauses for a moment, staring around him. He observes the small propaganda posters his Dad had helped him paste on the light blue walls, flashes of red and white contributing to the American flag. He supposed his Dad was rather patriotic in a way. He fit the American stereotypical image. Broad shouldered, tall, with a rather handsome carved face. Cato inherited his father's bright blue eyes and spiked blond hair. His mother was the same, but she had her own share of imperfections. Swelling bruises from the past, her scars were what had drawn Cato's father to his mother. She was a survivor of abuse, and had grown stronger from it. During his training, he had met her one night, getting a drink with his buddies. When he had seen her there, alone without a friend, he had extended his hand to her. And after that, they had become Mike and Marissa Hadley, married after three years. He was sent away to Afghanistan when Cato had been 5. They had Alexandria when he was 3.
Cato cared strongly for his baby sister, as he knew he had to become the man of the house when his father had departed them. Having to take the weight of doing more chores then usual, he remembers the last night before his father had to leave. He had come into Cato's room, a sad smile on his face. Wrinkles lined his face, as he sat next to son, who had been reading a book on the army for children.

"Cato, you're gonna take care of Mom for me, right?" he asks, ruffling his hair. Cato had nodded, setting the book down on his lap. He pulled himself into Mike's lap, placing his head against his chest. His father's strong arms wrapped themselves around his son, as he kissed his forehead.

"You're going to have to be the man of the house, alright?" he says after some silence, "Take care of your Mom. And Lexi. Be the man I want you to be."

Cato couldn't help but feel childish as he stares up into his father's eyes, seeing himself in them. Would he be as strong as his father one day? Brave? As strong as a lion? Protective? He had seen the way his father had taken care of the, protecting them from every possible annoyance and threat that had come their way in his short five years. He wipes away a tear that forms at the corner of his eyes, and he nods. "I promise, Daddy." 'I'll make you proud.' he had mentally promised to himself.

It's been two years since Mike Hadley had been sent off to Afghanistan, and time had not been kind. Seven years old, and he had more responsibilities then he ought to. Today was one of those rare days where he could just be a child and play with his toys like he should. Usually, he would be helping his mother clean the house, or supervising his sister. She was only two years old.
Entering his sister's room, he smiles at the pair of bright blue eyes that greet him from in between the bars of the crib. Happiness floods inside of him, as he walks over to his baby sister, Alexandria.

"Hey, Lexi," he greets softly, poking at her from in between the bars. "How're you?"

He laughs softly, when he is returned with a murmur of gargles and unintelligible words. Only a few words he can understand. Cato. She could say that, for sure. She could also say Momma and barely remembered her father, but when he would tell stories to her, rocking her gently, she would repeat his words. 'Papa. She could say that.

"Time for a nap," he says, lowering the bars of her crib so he could access her more easily. Laying her down on the pink blankets, she begins to fuss, her limbs flailing in the air. When he lay a white and blue blanket over her tiny body, she began to relax. Pulling the trigger for the mobile that lay above her, he smiles as her tiny eyes begin to close, succumbing to the sweet melody that began to take her. Soft white birds flew above her in a circular motion, guarding the little baby as she began to fall asleep. Cato smiles, kissing his little sister's forehead, before putting the bars back up.

He turns away from the crib, to see his mother, smiling at her son standing next to his sister's crib. Cato's heart warmed, as he saw the rarely displayed smile on his mother's face. He walks over to her, hugging her as she extends her arms. She's dressed in her usual apron, the blue and red one she used for cooking and cleaning. Her long blonde hair was braided, trailing down her back. Even when she was tired and sad, Cato would always say his mother was always as beautiful. He had seen pictures before, before his father had left for Afghanistan. When they had been younger, and hopes were higher for the Hadleys. In one photo, she looked like a super model, in a dress that had hugged her curves perfectly, her blonde hair flowing down her back in waves. Her cerulean eyes had seemed to glow, as Cato's father's arm was wrapped around her waist, suspended in time. She didn't like to look at those photos anymore.

"Hey, punkin," she whispers, kissing his forehead, "Thanks for doing that for me. I had to get the house clean before Clove came over."

"It's okay, Ma," he replies softly, pulling back to look into her eyes. He smiles as he sees the familiar blonde loose strand curling around her face, framing her oval face as usual. To Cato, his mother's face never looked quite right unless there was a loose strand.

"I made chocolate chip cookies," Marissa Hadley says softly, her voice somewhat hoarse. Cato took this as a good sign, as usually, if she was in a good mood, she'd be singing during her chores. If her voice was slightly hoarse, that must mean she was in a particularly good mood, "I know how much you and Clove love them."

"Really?" he exclaims, his face displaying such surprise. She nods gently, and laughs as Cato wraps his arms around her neck, kissing her cheek, "Thanks!"

"You and Clove have been friends since what, last year?" she ruffles his hair as she straightens up. Cato follows her as she continues to ramble, talking to herself about their first meeting in kindergarten, a year ago. This year, they were entering Panem Elementary School near the end of the street. It was easy walking distance, so the two friends would be able to walk together.

A loud knock came from the front door, and Cato, without even hesitation, runs from his mother's side as he twists the golden knob excitedly, eager to see his best friend. Flinging the front door open, he comes face to face with his best friend, Clove Furhman.

"Hey, Clove!" he yells excitedly, smiling at the slightly shorter brown haired girl in front of him. The two were best friends, only having met each other the previous year in kindergarten. She looked small and innocent, with her big brown eyes and freckles decorating her cheeks, but Cato had known better. She was a fighter, a real brave kid. That's why he had picked her to be one of his best friends. Today, she was dressed in a bright green shirt with a smiley sun, and a pair of blue jean shorts.

"Hey!" she says, her cheeks lifting as her lips curl into a smile. Flinging herself into Cato's arms, they hug for a bit, and she turns back and waves at her mother, who is watching from the sidewalk. It was a milestone for Clove, to be able to walk from the sidewalk to the front door without adult supervision.

"Bye, Mom!" she yells, waving to her mother, a short, stout brunette woman, holding the hand of her older brother, Jeffrey, who both in return wave back. Shutting the door to block out the hot Atlanta sun, she sighs in happiness as the air conditioner washes over the both of them. They begin to talk animatedly about how their summers were going, and how glad they would be to start school together in the first grade. Cato leads Clove to his bedroom, where he had planned their afternoon activity together.

"Today, we're going to play Army!" he exclaims, gesturing to his set up. She stares at it for a moment, trying to recollect everything she had learned from late night play dates, where Cato would begin to ramble about the army. She walks over to one of the green soldiers, picking it up.

"How do we play 'Army'?" she asks, wrinkling her nose as she observes the tiny soldier from all angles. Cato gingerly takes the figure from her, as he explains the basic goal of the game is to eliminate the soldiers of the enemy side, and she listens, trying to get the grasp. She knew Cato would most likely eliminate her, but she didn't time. She liked to spend time with Cato, as he was her best friend. All the other girls didn't understand her like Cato, except maybe Katniss Everdeen. He never questioned her wanting to play sports, or taking up knife throwing even if she was so young, and even if she had cut her hair with a pair of scissors during one of Ms. Donner's classes.

"Got it?" he asks after a lengthy explanation about the rules of elimination and how you can only eliminate a section if you do the elimination project by that many times of soldiers. The rules didn't make much sense to her, but he was the one with the father in the army, so she supposed he must know better then her.

"Got it."

"I win!"

An hour into their game, and Clove has won the game against all odds. The game had been rather tense, the pair of them both blood thirsty and eager to win. Clove had nearly failed at first, but there had been a turning point when Cato lost almost five soldiers to her one soldier's attack. By then, it was Cato's own strategy that caused him to fall. He pouts for a moment, letting Clove celebrate in her victory.

"I was letting you win," he mumbles softly, narrowing his eyes at her dancing figure. She stops in her tracks and laughs, shaking his soldiers.

"C'mon, Cato, lighten up!"

"You beat me."

"It wasn't my fault."

"Yes, it was."

"Your strategy, not mine," she points out rightfully, and smiles when she's realized he's stumped. She takes a seat next to him and begins to gather the soldiers, placing them in the All American decorated bucket that held the soldiers. The pair are quiet for a moment, before she picks one up, simply observing them.

"D'you ever think your Dad is playing Army too?"

"Yeah." His voice is quieter, a bit more serious then before, "He does it ever day. He hasn't died, though. He's strong like that. D-D'you think he'd be proud me, Clove?"

She reaches out, handing the toy soldier to Cato, smiling softly as he takes the toy figure in his hands. "I think...he'd be proud of you," she says softly, knowing she didn't sound like the normal seven year olds everybody thought she was, "I mean, one day, maybe you can be a soldier too!"

"That's be great!" Cato exclaims, pretending to make the figure raise his gun and shoot it's gun at Clove, making pewing noises as he did.

"And maybe I can join you!" Clove exclaims happily, taking another figure and playing with it as well.

"We can be together, fighting!"

"Saving the world!"

"Be brave and strong!"

"But, Cato..." she looks at Cato, quiet for a moment, as though realizing the fate the pair were condemning themselves to, "If we do...can we promise...we'll be together, or not at all?"

He doesn't speak a word for a moment, before extending his pinky. Her pinky wraps around his, as he echoes the word. A vow that will go across time and for hours on end, until the end of their friendship.

"Promise."

"Cookies are ready!" Marissa Hadley calls from the other room, and the two break apart, jumping up and laughing as they exit the room, almost forgetting that promise, as the two toy soldiers they had been playing with lay side by side each other on the wooden ground, their arms intertwined.