A/N: So this is my first fanfiction that I've ever published on this site and I'm really excited! I've slowly fallen in love with the KatnissxCato pairing, and there are only so many fics on here concerning them, so I thought I'd give it a shot! Reviews/criticism is surely welcome! Hope you enjoy it (:
Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Hunger Games, merely the plot of this story.
"I can do nothing but wait. One day it will be my turn to call out and volunteer. All my life I've been taught to be so grateful for the opportunity, the chance to make my district proud. And I will be.
But is it really what I want?"
I stare at the small radio like device in my hand, vaguely remembering the strange voice coming from it so long ago. Is this his year? Is he going to be one of those awful Careers in the Games? I bit my lip in slight apprehension. I hope not. I've come to expect his voice every night, softly confiding in the twin of this tiny piece of technology. I don't know if he can hear me. He never asked. But I hear him. I hear the waver in his voice on the nights where his trainers have punished him for not giving enough effort. I hear the smashing of objects from across the room when his rage overcomes him. I hear the rare sobs that somehow break his barrier whenever he thinks he's had enough, never knowing that it'll get worse enough sometime again.
Strangely, I couldn't bear to accept that this boy's life could be taken away, taken away from me, in the next couple of weeks. Deep down, I know the answer. It's been six years already. If he really was chosen from the beginning, this is it.
His reaping is tomorrow.
The oxygen catches in the depth of my throat. Prim? How? Tears threaten to surface, but I blink them away in time to rush forward, fighting Peacekeepers as I struggle to find my voice.
"Prim! Prim!" I manage to screech, breaking the grip of another white uniform. "I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!" The words that escape my mouth astound even me, but it is no matter compared to what I will be saving my dear Prim from.
I grasp her tightly in my arms, telling her she has to go find mom before she starts crying too much. Thankfully, Gale has pushed through the crowd and scoops the small blonde into his arms. The gratitude I express to him through my light squeeze of his fingers, even the flabbergasted expression of the exuberant Effie Trinket, are not enough to block the sobs of my sister that echo in my head long after I've walked up to the stage of the Justice Building.
My mind is far from where I stand, and I hardly register that Peeta Mellark, the damned boy with the bread, has been chosen to represent District Twelve this year. It registers enough to make me feel the pity of a thousand deaths, though. Before I can become on the verge of tears again, we're both thrust into the building to organize our good byes and then to whisk us away to the Capitol.
First is my mother and Prim, who is still full of tears. She shakes me, begging me to try and win, and the promise that I will is almost automatic. I could never refuse her requests. I make my mother promise to take care of her, bringing her to the verge of tears as well. Soon enough, we're all about to cry but a Peacekeeper takes them away from me. My hands sweep furiously over my cheeks.
Next is Mr. Mellark, who is a great surprise. We sit in silence, almost basking in each other's company even though I've only spoken to the man on business. As he leaves he says, "I'll take care of them, Katniss. I will." Another unwanted tear escapes me.
Then Madge enters, her golden hair released from the pink ribbon that held it back earlier. She sweeps some back behind her shoulder and fiddles with a small figure previously hidden under her hair on the white dress she adorns. Whatever it is becomes unfastened and she holds it out to me.
"Here," she says. In the palm of her hand is a small pin, completely gold, of an encircled Mockingjay bird. It's gorgeous. "They say you're allowed a token of your district in the arena, to remind you of home. I want you to have it." My mouth hangs slightly agape, and instantly I wish she could give it to my family instead. It would feed them for months. Instead of waiting for my response, she takes my own hand and opens it, dropping the lovely pin into the cup of my fingers. Then she walks out.
Finally, Gale emerges from behind the door, instantly enclosing me in a hug. I am crying again, not caring how badly I stain his only nice shirt.
"You can do this, you know." He whispers. "You're stronger than they are." I don't say anything back. I just cling onto him for dear life. "Show them how strong you are. Come home." In the next second, a Peacekeeper is back, and I have a difficult time believe that our time is already spent. It's doesn't matter though.
"I will, Gale, I promise." I try to say, but it comes out in more of a mangled whisper. "Please, just take care of them!" By the last few words, I'm yelling so he can hear my pleas through the closed door.
Effie Trinket wastes no time in collecting me from the small office and leading me to the car at the back of the building. I've never been a car before. It's a strange contraption and much too cramped for the two of us tributes and our escort. The ride is surprising short from the Justice Building to the train station, probably because I've never been able to see it from the town square. Already there are hundreds of people holding cameras and snapping photos that will probably be broadcasted across Panem in a matter of seconds. I eagerly hurry after Effie onto the train, and I'm almost glad I did so.
In the first compartment is an assortment of food that I've only been told about. Hundreds of different dishes of snacks to deserts are scattered across carts throughout the whole car. Before I can ask if this is all for us, Effie pushes us forward to show us our own quarters, even though it's only a night. As soon as the pink haired lady leaves, I untuck the small radio from the waistband of my underwear, cradling it in my hands and listen closely. The familiar hum of static meets my ears, and I'm almost disappointed. He usually speaks several hours after dark though, so I don't fret too much. I lay on the heavenly mattress for a while, drifting in and out of sleep, my head not really settling on any thoughts. A few knocks bring me back to the surface.
Peeta slowly enters, informing me that they are going to watch the other district reapings and thought that it'd be good for me to join them. I open my mouth to refuse, but then I remember the boy from the radio. It's worth a shot.
I follow Peeta out my compartment and settle into the single chair, not wanting to be in close contact with the other three, one being Haymitch Abernathy who I am seeing clearly for the first time. Effie has already started District One's. After hearing the boy's voice, I'm hardly paying attention. The only thing I take away from the recap is wondering what kind of name Glimmer is. A bit much, isn't it?
Once District Two's has started, I'm a little more focused. If he is one of the volunteers, a Career, then he's either from Two or Four, and I due to the things I've heard, I have a hunch he's not from the latter. But first is the girl, a small thing. She isn't a volunteer either, which is odd, but nobody volunteers to take her place. I'm afraid to see what makes this girl so lethal. Then, before the escort can even get the last name of the selected tribute out, a voice calls out, volunteering to take his place. I was too focused on the look of the boy, no, a man, to determine if the voice could have belonged to the one I've been listening to for the past six years.
He's massive. Not in a meaty sense, but fit. His biceps are easily the size of my head, accompanied by tall, strong legs that give him so much height, and you can tell by the way he strolls up to the stage that he's almost unstoppable. I can only wonder what weapons he would use, how many ways he'd know how to kill me in the arena. My eyes finally focus on the face that is now taking up most of the screen. Bright blue eyes bore holes into the cameras, going wonderfully with the shock of blonde hair he has. A smirk rests nicely on his lips. I frown slightly, knowing that all the sponsors must already be targeting him. He's looks like he's already won.
"Now, what's your name?" The ridiculous looking escort inquires. He flashes a smile, making a blush peak slightly into her cheeks and speaks.
"Cato Marcellus." This time I hear the voice loud and clear. I almost fall out of the chair trying to rush to my room, ignoring the questioning calls from the others. I make sure the door is again closed before I slip the radio from beneath the bed, holding the little thing to my ear. I silently beg for him to speak, to give me a confirmation.
But I don't need one. Years I've listened to that voice, and I would recognize it anywhere in a heartbeat. Part of me just doesn't want it to be true, I suppose.
I don't want the speaker to be the brutal and bloody looking boy from District Two.
