Gone Awry

A/N: A new story, seeing as I'm in love with the Hunger Games, but who isn't? The crack pairing of Katniss/Cato is intriguing seeing as it never ever would happen, but that's why we have fanficiton.
I don't make any profit from the fan fiction in anyway nor do I own the Hunger Games, it's merely a creation from my imagination.

"And to get sponsors, you need to get people to like you." I just never thought that he would like me.

Chapter 1

"Peeta, please stop talking!"

His face was sickly pale, the chills were racking his body and I couldn't stand to watch. His normally beautiful and youthful eyes were dull from the sickness that was spreading through him. He was burning, and there was absolutely nothing I could do. There had been no announcements, no feast, nothing.

Haymitch please do something!

No matter how much affection was being shown, Haymitch was refusing to come to their aid. Had they lost the sensation of the audience? Was the strategy found out by everyone? There could be millions of reasons as to why they weren't receiving the gift of medicine, and the ominous feeling that a feast was to happen soon settled in her limbs. At this rate, if they even did have a feast, Peeta might not survive the fever that broke into a sweat, the presperation within the cave and his forehead causing small beads of sweat to travel down his face.

I rested my head on his chest, and he weakly rested his arm around me. "Katniss," he croaked, his throat must have been so dry, but no matter how much water I gave him, it never changed.

"Shh, you need to rest."

"No-Katniss," he whispered again, his body was still shaking, and it rattled me to the core that I might lose him. "Stop, Peeta, please." After losing Rue, I couldn't stand the thought of losing the Boy with the Bread as well. The broth that Haymitch had sent us was nearly gone, and my stomach was feverishly aching to be fed. If I didn't go hunting soon, then both tributes from twelve might be dead.

"Katniss, you know…I've always cared about you." He was shaking so much, no matter how tightly I held him, no matter how warm I made him, he couldn't stop shaking.

"I know Peeta, I know," I murmured into his chest, my fists bunching into his shirt. "If I don't make it-"

"Don't say that."

Before he could speak again, I pressed my lips to his tightly, begging for him to stay quiet. I placed my hand gently against his face, a small smile trickling onto his weak face. "Ok," he murmured softly, finally agreeing.

I could have sworn I heard the dull words of I love you before he was asleep once again. The chills took over his body, and my chest ached watching. There was nothing I could do but lay awake and cuddle next to him within the sleeping bag. It must have been early in the morning and stupidly I had dozed off next to Peeta. Fortunately I had the understanding to block the cave so it was nearly invisible against the brush and bushes outside of the opening.

Pressing my ear to his chest, his heartbeat was still with me, and I stared into his face, the pain etched across his face within his sleep. How could I sit here and watch this? It was then that the voice of Claudius echoed around the arena -

"Tributes, there shall be a feast at the Cornucopia! You all need something desperately, see you there, and may the odds be ever in your favor!" that annoying voice that always ended in open questions drifted off the speakers within the arena. They would have Peeta's medicine, and there was no way I wasn't going to go.

He was still asleep, and there was no time to waste. Cato was going to be in familiar territory, along with Clove, Thresh, and FoxFace. I placed a gentle kiss on his warm cheek, "I'm sorry, Peeta."

He was going to wake up and I wouldn't be there with him. I knew he would get the medicine if the situations were reversed, because Peeta is the caring boy that looks to help others before himself. The image of me steps away from deaths door in the rain and him tossing the bread only solidified my rational to get the medicine. With a deep breathe, I nestled my bow and arrows comfortably over my shoulder. I secured the entrance to the cave, and left without the slightest trace of anything inhabiting the inside.

The trek to the Cornucopia left me tired, and I squatted within the brush of the forest to take the opportunity and see if anyone was nearby. The four backpacks stood there in the mouth of the golden object, as if they were being swallowed, and the Capitol had that effect on everything they touched. They swallowed lives, dreams, and only gave you a glimmer of hope.

FoxFace ran through the field first, quick and conniving - that clever girl.

"Damnit," I cursed mildly under my breath, the redheaded girl grasped her backpack before sprinting in the other direction. Clearly they should have given her a higher score than the one she earned. She could go on and win this thing just by outsmarting us all. Deciding to stop wasting time, I bolted from my spot in the bushes. My sprinting wasn't as fast as I would have liked considering the wound to my leg felt like it was going to burst into flames any second. Cato and Clove had to be somewhere near.

Faster, run faster! Internally I was screaming at myself, and I could only imagine Haymitch glowering at me, choosing something to criticize about my decision making to get the medicine. Considering the facts that my partner was barely able speak, I had every right to get the medicine. Haymitch be damned. That's when the bulky form of the Career loomed in the distance. My heart hitched in my throat at the sight of him. I dismembered his pack with the tracker jackers, and it was evident he wasn't happy about it. I could outrun him seeing as I had a gradual lead, and I was only an arms length away from saving Peeta's life when Thresh knocked me out of the way.

Where had he come from?

The wind was forcefully butchered from my lungs as I fell to the ground. Thresh's scythe was inches away from decapitating my face in two, but I had the foresight to roll under the table the backpacks were neatly held on.

A strangle of voices and I knew Cato was battling Thresh. I could have sworn I heard a rough voice growling, "No!" before their battle ensued, but that could be my bad ear playing tricks on me. Grasping the backpack marked with the bold stitching of '12', I ran. I ran even though the exertion was daring to rip away the work the medicine Haymitch had sent me on my leg. A canon exploded into the sky, and I could only assume it was Thresh. There was no way Cato was going to go down that easily. My body defied my orders and peeked over my shoulder. Sure enough, Thresh's body was limp on the ground, and the lush grass was stained with new spilt blood.

I disappeared into the forest, my heart beating rapidly.

That's when the noise that sent my chest caving in on itself rang through the air.

Another canon.

Who?

I knew who, although my mind and body refused to believe it. "Peeta!"

I didn't realize that the scream had emitted from my lungs, and I was so dangerously close to the cave. The usually mid way trek to the to the cave felt lik hours. My rational side tried to reason that it could have been FoxFace blowing herself up, or Cato's wounds got the better of him. There was no potential possibility that it was Peeta. I had secured the cave, unless his fever got the better of him? He was sick, the infection could have finally ceased the beating of his heart, a million things could have happened in the short time that I was away.

Then I remembered that there was a person missing from the field.

Clove!

The focus on acquiring his medicine made me forget there was someone missing from the fields around the Cornucopia.

My body thrummed with anxiety and adrenaline simultaneously pushing me towards the cave, when it was ten yards away from me I could spot through the trees that the opening was torn open, the bushes and brush trampled on.

No!

I already had my bow and arrow equipped, and when I entered the cave my heart stopped. A thin knife stuck out from the left side of Peeta's chest. His eyes open, the blue eyes that transpired so many emotions within me, and now they were dead. The sight made my body numb and my ear throb.

Clove had a disgusting, sweet smile on her face. "Oh, sorry I had to kill your loverboy," her voice dripped like acid, making my stomach lurch. "And now it's your turn!" she screeched, and before she could come near me my arrow pierced her throwing arm, causing her to scream.

"How dare you!" I screamed, she hit his heart because that's how sick she was. He was in love with me, we were the star crossed lovers from District Twelve and nobody would understand the true meaning of what Peeta and I felt. Piercing his heart would only result in the piercing of my own. The hatred and pain I felt for this girl swallowed me, and like everyone else, the Games urged me to do something I never would of done before.

I made her suffer.

Bow notched, she assumed I was aiming for her head, but that would be too quick. The Career attempted to distance herself, her arm dripping blood from the bow latched through her arm. I almost debated against it, but Peeta's body that lay limp behind her reminded me that she was nothing better than dirt. She ruined the small hope I had, and my arrow flew effortlessly through the air and struck it's destination with ease through her throat.

The look of shock on her face was repulsive, eyes bulging and her hands attempted to move the metal that was lodged in her airways. She couldn't speak or scream, and the blood began to fill her lungs.

Choking.

Clove from District Two was choking on her own blood, and I couldn't remove my eyes. It filled her mouth and leaked out of the entrance of the arrow, it was staining her cheeks, clothes, and the noises she made would make anyone return their meal to the ground, but I merely watched.

Grey eyes that were supposed to represent fire had extinguished to hate. Her struggle continued, and her eyes pleaded for a quick ending, but I stayed motionless. The slightest hint of regret filtered through her eyes, and tears slid down her cheeks. Then she gave up, and fell to the ground, her body convulsed once, twice, then the canon rung through the air.

It was then that tears surfaced, blurring my own vision. I moved past Clove into the back of the cave where Peeta's body was still warm from his fever. "Peeta," my voice was acting on it's own, and I fell to my knees beside his body. "Peeta, please wake up," I whispered, then I rested my head on his chest. The familiar heart beat that had been so stable, something I had come to love was gone. Nothing, no breathing, no heart beat, no more smiles, no more kisses, no more nothing.

I knew all of Panem was watching, and I didn't have to force the tears and wails that escaped from my throat. They would all feel my pain. Every single one of them would watch as I laid my head on his chest and cried. My face burned with sadness, and my fingers clenched onto his shirt. "No!" I wailed again, "please Peeta, wake up!" my mind couldn't process that he was actually gone.

"I got your medicine, please!"

His name became a prayer on my lips, and I held his limp body close to me. I rocked back and fourth, and I knew deep down that he wouldn't want me to cry over him. He would want me to win, just like Rue. I kissed him them, as morbid as it was. I kissed his forehead, his nose, his cheeks, and my thumbs traced the outline of his face as I cried silently beside his dead body. I couldn't bring myself to remove the knife, but for the respect and love I had for him, I gripped the bloody handle where he must have attempted to remove it, and I closed my eyes and the sickening sound of metal sliding against skin etched itself into my brain forever. Once it was out I threw it as far as I could and it landed somewhere near Clove.

After what felt like hours laying beside his body, and the sobs stopped controlling me, I traced small designs on his chest with my fingers. The sky had darkened, and it was cold. It was probably freezing but I couldn't feel anything. My body and mind were numb, and I still didn't truly understand that he was not coming back.

Then I heard the screams and sounds of howling. My reaction was surprising even to myself.

I didn't move.

My body and survival instincts were screaming for me to run, that this was their sick finale. I had to move, I knew I had to move but I couldn't. I didn't want to leave him. I could mentally hear Haymitch screaming at me to run, to do something. Then I could hear Peeta's voice, telling me that I had to leave, no matter how much it hurt, I had to win. Then Rue's small voice telling me that I had to win. Everyone wanted me to win except myself. Death would be such a pleasant release from all the pain I would feel later on. The only meaningful person that I had to look forward to was Prim.

Prim.

Peeta, Prim, Rue, Haymitch, Gale.

They were depending on me to win, and Prim's survival was counting on me to win.

Another scream and then a canon.

I looked down at Peeta's body, knowing this was the last time I would ever lay eyes on the Boy with the Bread. My body was unable to produce any more tears. Mentally I took a picture of his serene face and how calm he looked in death. I would remember him forever, and he would always have a place in my heart, maybe the biggest.

"I love you," I murmured softly, placing one last delicate kiss on his gentle lips. I plucked the mocking jay pin from my shirt and pinned it to his chest. All cameras, even though their finale was happening right now, were probably on me. Another act of defiance, but I no longer cared. I pressed my three fingers to my lips, and then his lips, and then his heart.

"I love you, Peeta."

With one final look, I ran out of the cave.

The howls and growls were deafening, and I knew I had to run. I had no idea what I was waiting for, and I knew that I had to get to the Cornucopia, I could hide within it, because it sounded like whatever beasts the Capitol had made, they were on ground. Dodging through trees, bow and arrow notched, the exhausting and emotional turmoil didn't help my speed. It wasn't until I nearly tripped over the body of FoxFace that I realized how horrid the Capitol was, or what used to be of FoxFace. Her once lithe body was torn to shreds, chunks missing from her legs and chest. Her face was mutilated, claw marks and scratch marks all over her body. Blood rushed freely from her open wounds, and I had to suppress a scream from how gruesome the sight was.

Then I heard another growl behind me, and it was then that Cato ran past me. "Go!" he growled, we both knew where to go. Shortly behind us the howls echoed, forcing another course of adrenaline through my body. We ran to the fields, and the Cornucopia was in sight. A mutt blindsided Cato and latched onto his arm, and for a reason that is unexplainable to me, I shot it between the eyes. The mutt mewled and fell to the ground, and a look of bewilderment crossed the brutally devilish eyes of Cato. There was no time to wonder because we reached the side of the Cornucopia and we each scrambled to the top. His footing wasn't nearly as graceful as my own, and the mutts were about to maul his legs and drag him down when I reached down and lifted him up.

I could have left him dangle off the side for his death.

I could have won, been a sole victor.

I could have finished him off, just like his partner did mine.

Yet I didn't.

Then there we stood, at the top with the mutts growling, attempting to reach us.

He could have whipped us around and threw me to the mutts.

He could have pushed me off the side.

He could have sent me into the afterlife with Peeta.

Yet he didn't.

Still, we stood there, and his domineering body took a defensive stance. His arm was bleeding profusely, and there were scratches across his face, and he looked like he was starving.

I could kill him right now, one shot to the forehead and he would be done. Then he did something so perplexing, he did nothing. There was no aggressive blood thirsty Career standing before me. Just a boy that spent his whole life training for something that would bring honor and respect to him and his family. He had volunteered, wasted his life away to become a killer.

Is that what the Capitol did to us?

Right then, I refused to give the Capitol what they wanted.

I dropped my bow to the ground and fell to my knees.

"I don't want to be another piece in their game."

I knew what he meant now, that night on the balcony. He didn't want to succumb to being what they wanted us all to be. Killers, savages. They wanted to break us, and the only way that happens is if you take everything away from a person. You force them to revert back to instincts, and I had already failed Peeta once by torturing Clove.

I wasn't going to do it again.

We were at a stalemate, and in my eyes I begged for him to be the victor so I could die with honor and make Peeta proud. I had done all I could do, and killing Cato was only going to give the Capitol everything they wanted. Gale would take care of Prim like he promised, and would respect the fact that I wasn't going to let the Capitol completely break me.

"What are you doing?" he hissed at me, but I said nothing. I simply stayed on my knees, refusing to look into the blue eyes that resembled Peeta's.

"I'm not going to hurt Peeta again, kill me," I whispered shakily.

He looked astonished, but his arm was bleeding so much that he looked like he was going to topple over any second. I was about to reach over and help him when the voice boomed over the arena.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, for the first time ever I would like to announce the two victors for the 74th Annual Hunger Games! Katniss Everdeen and Cato Stone!" We stared numbly at one another, unable to believe what we just heard.

There was no time for him to relish in victory because he passed out.

I rushed over, unsure of what I could possibly do to help. The hovercraft appeared over us, the ladder was issued and I could only imagine what all of Panem was thinking. A Career from District Two and a Seam dweller from District Twelve had refused to kill one another. This was unheard of, and I couldn't fathom why Cato wouldn't want to be the victor. He would be glorified in his district, just like all the others. He would be a celebrity, and he would be known as the man to kill the Girl on Fire.

Yet he didn't do a thing.

Author's note:
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