Summary: After they win the 74th Hunger Games, defy the Capitol and suffer the consequences, Cato and Clove escape the Capitol's clutches. They enter the wildnerness without a plan, but what happens when they find themselves encountering an unknown civilisation? Four and Tris will help them blend into Dauntless society and just perhaps together they can answer the questions of both their worlds.

A/N: Set during Divergent and post Hunger Games. Re insurgent Chicago was isolated from the outside world decades ago. No one in Panem knew of its existance, until Cato and Clove stumble upon it. Please read and review. -Lu

CHAPTER ONE

"Cato stop...need...breathe..." Clove gasped, stumbling to a halt a few meters behind him. He didn't need to be asked twice. He crashed to a stop, throwing himself onto the ground and gasping for air. His lungs stabbed with sharp pain as he pulled each breath in. They had been sprinting flat-out for what felt like hours now, trying to put as much distance between them and the edge of the district as possible. It was a good thing they still had their Career fitness, or they would never have lasted this long.

"We can't just...keep running," Clove said to him from her position at the base of a large oak tree. She leant her sharp elbows on her knees and rested her head in her hands. It had only taken them a moment to decide to run and she knew that staying had never been an option but it still hurt to think of everything they had left behind. It hurt even more to think of the uncertainty they now faced. She hated not having a plan.

Events had started on this course the second they both survived the 74th Hunger Games. When they had denied the Capitol's request to enter the Capitol permanently they knew that things were going to change. When President Snow had drawn them both away on a Victor's ruse and sent his black clad killers in to slaughter their families, there was no other option. They had nothing left to stay for now. So they ran.

They had no idea where they were running to but did it really matter? Away. That was the answer. They were simply running away.

"We need to keep moving," Cato said simply, pushing himself off the ground with effort. The darkness was going to be approaching soon and they still needed to put more distance between them and the Capitol's reach before he would feel at all safe. It felt strange to both of them but they were on the defensive now. Their usual bloodlust for the offensive attack seemed to have vanished the second they lay eyes on the bloody corpses of their families. The hunt, the killing that they had almost enjoyed as part of their Career training suddenly left them sickened.

Clove silently rose to her feet too, knowing there was no point in expressing how exhausted she was. Her brother's words rang in her head as they began to jog through the trees. You can sleep when you're dead. That was never truer than now.

Once it was almost completely dark and they were both stumbling over the roots and vines of the forest floor they realised they had to stop. They were not going to make any progress if one of them managed to break a leg or fall over a cliff. They had very few supplies with them and they daren't risk lighting a fire, so they huddled together in the dark, backs against a large tree. It felt safer having the strong, impenetrable trunk to their backs. It would have been logical to have one of them on sentry while the other slept but they were too tired to even discuss it before they were both asleep.

The raucous birdsong of dawn woke them both long before they wanted to. Cato stretched out his stiffened limbs and felt the blood rush back to his fingertips with a tingling sensation. Every single muscle felt stiff and painful and the stinging of scratches from branches and leaves only added to it. It was a good thing they were no strangers to pain and discomfort, or else they wouldn't survive half a day out here with what they had. But thankfully the punishing training of district 2 prepared its tributes for the harshness of the woods without food, water or warmth.

Still, before they had left they had scavenged together a few items. Water canisters had been top of the list. The memories of excruciating thirst in the Arena were still far too fresh in their minds. A few items of clothing had been next. Finally Clove had insisted that she have her knives with her. Not all of them of course but her few favourites. He had told her that if they were caught and she was found to have them it would mean instant death but she had crossed her arms stubbornly and glared at him in that way that he knew meant no further discussion was to be had. Besides, considering the unknown of what they faced, he must say the idea of having weapons in their hands was quite comforting. He just wished he had been able to escape with a sword or spear. But they were a bit harder to smuggle out than Clove's knives. She had given him one to slip into his sock and he had appreciated the gesture. He knew how protective she was of those knives.

It was for one of their bottles of water that he reached now. His fingers had just closed around the cool neck of the bottle when he froze, his eyes catching sight of a shadowy figure crouched in the undergrowth immediately across from them.

"Clove!" he hissed, jabbing her into consciousness with his elbow. He didn't even wait for her disgruntled yelp of pain before he was on his feet, his fingers reaching immediately down to curl around the smooth handle of the blade. He didn't draw it but crouched, tensed, watching the person. He couldn't make out much about them in the shadows of the trees but it was unmistakably a human being.

Next to him Clove picked up on his alertness almost instantly and mirrored his posture, reaching for the comforting feel of several blades in her jacket. It took her eyes a few seconds of searching before she too saw what had captured his attention.

"What is it?" she whispered at him, her eyes not leaving the figure.

"Don't attack!" a shaking voice called from the woods. There was movement in the shadows and the figure materialised towards them, forming into the solid form of a teenage boy. He held his hands raised at head height, palms facing them. He looked even more ragged than they felt, and Cato guessed he had spent several weeks in the wilderness.

"Who are you?" Cato barked. The pathetic appearance of the boy didn't make him any less suspicious and his fingers were still tight around the blade.

"My name's Isaac," the boy said, his eyes flicking nervously over the both of them. Clove was studying him too. She'd never seen anyone wearing clothing like he had; a loose black t-shirt and black jeans. The grimy fabrics were stark against his pale skin but perfectly complemented his mop of greasy black hair. It hung in weak strands around his face and it looked as if leaves and dirt were tangled in it. Most surprising to Clove were the strange pieces of metal piercing his face. He had several scattered up both ears and another protruding from his lip. Despite the tension of the situation she couldn't help but stare curiously at it. Why would anyone do that to their face? Didn't it get in the way when he ate?

Cato meanwhile was confused by the strange black and coloured pictures that swirled up his arms. They were criss-crossed with lines of oozing red where he had clearly gained scratched just like Cato and Clove.

"Do you have any weapons?" Cato called back, though he had already run an experienced eye over him looking for the tell tale bumps of concealed weapons. Despite his natural suspicion, his instincts were telling him that this frightened and impoverished boy was not going to be a threat to them.