Beta-read by gkmoberg1

Love Don't Die by The Fray

If I know one thing, that's true

It ain't what you say, it's what you do

And you don't say much, yeah, that's true

But I listen when you do

A thousand years go by

But love don't die

Chapter 1

Winnow Fontanne looked down at her right wrist – the sight of it cuffed to a bedrail only confused her befuddled mind further. At the sound of her name, she looked up – catching sight of someone familiar. Scarlet hair bound into a severe bun, glowing green eyes and a tiny little body approaching her.

"Artemisia?" Winnow asked, voice thick and hoarse from disuse. She tried to search her mind, her memories for what had brought her to this moment. But her mind was so hazy that she could only get an incomplete image. "What's happened?" she questioned.

At Winnow's second question, Artemisia moved closer and cupped the girl's cheek. "What do you remember, Winnow?" the stylist prompted her.

Winnow closed her eyes in response, trying to focus on the image from before. She remembered smiling at Cato, then him calling her name – as if frightened. She had never heard him like that before. She had turned, then felt a sudden, sharp pain in her chest – and then Winnow was falling, falling, falling – and then there was nothing.

"Did I die?" Winnow asked. Then she shook her head. "No, that's impossible. I'm here," she tried to answer herself.

Artemisia shook her head slowly, the light pressure of her hand leaving Winnow's cheek and then resting on the teenager's left hand. "You did." she whispered. "Katniss Everdeen shot you," the scarlet-haired woman offered as explanation.

"And Cato?" Winnow questioned. The why's and how's were unimportant to her right now – she needed to know the what's. Artemisia's gaze shifted away from her uncomfortably, taking far too long to answer for Winnow's liking.

The teenager started to grow hysterical, yanking futilely at her restraint, pulling her other hand away from Artemisia. "He's nearby," Artemisia said suddenly, standing to try and calm her charge. Winnow stilled immediately, falling back against the bed. "You can see him soon. After I explain what is going on," the stylist added.

"What happened in the Games?!" Winnow demanded.

"You both died." Artemisia answered concisely. The teenager looked at her with incredulity – with a fair bit of skepticism and disbelief mixed in. "You are alive now because of the Game-makers' plan for the Quarter Quell, Winnow. I was assigned to help you and Cato prepare for the Games." Artemisia attempted to explain.

Winnow rested her head back, a long breath whistling through her lips. "We're going back?" she breathed. The older woman nodded.

"You're going up against Katniss – again." Artemisia began to explain, watching her charge carefully. Winnow sighed, her head lolling to the side. "If you kill her in the arena, the Capitol will let you go home. You'll get to live,"

"And Cato?" Winnow asked again.

"He has the same chance." Artemisia answered simply. Her attention was drawn away from her charge when she heard a commotion outside the door.

"I'll do what I have to." The dark-haired teenager said resolutely. She looked on in confusion as the redhead rose to her feet and went to the door. She cracked the door open and peered outside – and the shouting filtered in and Winnow's eyes widened when she recognized his voice.

Artemisia, however, flung the door open and took a few steps out the door. Cato Elestren struggled with four Peacekeepers in the hall, trying to reach Winnow's door. Winnow herself could not see him from her bed – but she leaned as far to the side as she could - to investigate her suspicion. "Release him." Artemisia said, making all five males to still in surprise at her intervention.

"But ma'am-" One of the Peacekeepers protested.

"He is my charge. Release him now." Artemisia ordered again. The massive blond's chest heaved with exertion, staring at the woman before him impassively. The Peacekeepers did not release him immediately as she expected. "If you do not do as I say, I will be lodging a complaint with Plutarch Heavensbee immediately. You are damaging a subject." she threatened.

Those words had Artemisia's desired effect on the Peacekeepers – for they dropped Cato and stepped away immediately. Cato faltered for only a second before he caught his balance and stood up straight – his massive stature intimidating to the smaller Capitolians as he was at least a foot taller and twice as wide as them.

The blond glared at the men he had been wrestling with – inspiring them to return to their posts hastily. Then he turned to Artemisia. "Winnow's waiting." The redhead stated softly, gesturing for him to enter the room.

An uncertain expression crossed Cato's face – as if he was unsure what he would find inside. He took a few steps in to the room, his eyes widening at the sight of Winnow laying in the bed before him.

He froze there in the doorway, and Artemisia pushed him forward a little so she could enter and close the door behind them. Still he stood there, staring in disbelief at the woman he loved and thought he had lost. Held as she died.

Sick of waiting for him to make up his mind, Winnow flung up her free arm to reach for him. "Cato!" she cried. And that seemed to be just enough to wake the blond from his daze. Cato rushed towards her, snaking his arms beneath her back and squeezing her to him. "Cato, Cato…" Winnow murmured, her unrestrained arm just as tight around him.

"Winnie," Cato breathed, slanting his lips over hers in order to eliminate any imagined distance between them. He kissed her roughly, his fingertips biting into her flesh as he palmed her, as if checking her over to make sure everything was there. But Winnow couldn't bring herself to care – she had received unexpected, traumatizing news and was endlessly grateful to have him in her arms.

Cato was trying to convince himself that she was truly there – truly alive. After what seemed like only a few short moments, he could hear the scarlet-haired woman's high voice buzzing – but he disregarded her – ignoring all but Winnow beneath his hands, beneath his lips.

When he finally decided to pull back from her lips, Winnow panted for breath. Cato sat on the edge of the bed, careful to keep hold of her. "How?" he asked finally, glancing from Winnow to the other woman – Artemisia, he thought.

Winnow's hand clutched at him, pulling him closer and it was exactly as Cato wanted as well – to feel her closer, his body to feel the weight of hers. He crawled onto the bed, Winnow scooting over to the edge to share the bed with him. He ended up half beneath her, her wrist still uncomfortably cuffed to the bedrail.

Cato looked at the metal cuff in confusion, but deemed it unimportant in that moment. "I woke up in that bed – in that room – " he began.

"You weren't supposed to wake until I came to you." Artemisia interjected.

Cato glared at the redhead for interrupting him. "I heard your voice through the vent," he continued, nodding to Winnow. "And I had to find you." Cato said. His grip on her was tight and unrelenting – he seemed fearful of losing contact with her for even a moment. "So what is going on?" he questioned.

Winnow leaned her head against his shoulder. "We're going into the games again, Cato. That's why we're alive." she informed him. Cato looked down at her in disbelief. "But President Snow has promised – if we kill our rivals in the arena, we can go home."

"Home?" Cato asked, furrowing his brows. After all – home was two very different places to them both.

"Wherever we like. It doesn't matter, Cato. Only that we'll actually have a chance at having a life. Together." Winnow said hastily.

"Who are our rivals?"

"Peeta and Katniss, of course." Winnow answered. She had only been told about Katniss – but she had surmised that Peeta had to be the other one.

"Specifically, Cato is Peeta's rival and Winnow is Katniss' rival." Artemisia cut in.

"Does it matter?" the blond asked. He was growing weary of the older woman's interruptions as well as her very presence.

"Yes. If anyone but you kills your rival… the deal is off. You have to kill Katniss, Winnow. You have to kill Peeta, Cato. If anyone else does… you are taken from the arena and Snow will have you killed." Artemisia informed them urgently.

Cato and Winnow traded a look. "It's a slim chance." Cato remarked.

"It's better than no chance! It's better than being dead!" Winnow insisted. Cato couldn't argue with that. Wouldn't. Not after holding Winnow for such a short time. He needed more. He would have more.

"So how do you two feel – for having been raised for the dead?" Artemisia asked in curiosity.

Cato looked to Winnow and grinned. "Better than ever." he said, turning an expectant look to his lover.

"Alright, I suppose." Winnow answered after a moment of hesitation. Artemisia and Cato frowned at her.

"What do you mean, Winnow?" Artemisia prompted.

"I'm sore all the way down to my bones," the dark-haired girl answered. "Aren't you? Just a little bit?" she asked Cato – who shook his head slowly. Winnow's expression turned to confusion, and the others' to concern.

!

After waking, after everything Artemisia knew had been divulged to them – Cato and Winnow had been led from the sublevel they had woken on – up two more levels to where they would be staying. Unlike their first stay in the Capitol preceding the Games, the rooms weren't as lush. Not to say that they were unlivable or even uncomfortable – but they were smaller – and underground.

Secrecy – about them, their purpose, the mere fact that they were alive – was essential, Artemisia had insisted. She had told them she hadn't even known what her assignment was until ten minutes before she had entered Winnow's room.

Cato and Winnow's suite consisted of a small bedroom, a bathroom and an even smaller kitchen area. All of it bore handsome decorations and cushy furniture – and the pair were very comfortable there. As soon as Artemisia had led them there, she had left them – sensing they needed to be alone.

As soon as they were alone, Cato and Winnow had immediately acquainted themselves with the bedroom. It had only taken Winnow a moment to reassure Cato she was fine – that she was not that weak. Only sore, not injured. They wasted no time in rediscovering each other's bodies – and spent hours and hours doing so.

There was no real sense of time passing in their suite- there was no clock, no windows – nothing to signify that any time had passed at all. It was only when Cato and Winnow were too exhausted to go on that they finally paused and took a moment to rest.

Cato grinned. In his arms, Winnow was limp, sleepy and oh so very pliable to his greedy hands. "Are you hungry, Winnie?" he asked.

"Mmhmm," she murmured in response. She didn't bother opening her eyes, only curling closer to her lover and heat source.

"I'll go find something." Cato said as he pulled away. Winnow groaned in protest, her arms tightening around him. She slid across the bed with him as Cato persisted. "Winnie, I'll be right back," he reassured her, the grin on his face growing wider.

Winnow released him reluctantly, cracking one eye open. "I still don't like that name," she muttered, turning over and cuddling to a pillow. Cato laughed and searched along the floor for the lounge pants he had been wearing earlier.

Once he had found the missing garment and put it on, Cato left the bedroom and crossed into the kitchen area. In the icebox was a plate of prepared sandwiches and a jug of juice. He grabbed both and managed to snag two glasses on his way back to the bedroom.

Winnow had dozed off in his absence and Cato planned to take great pleasure in waking her. There was a very male sense of pride for him to see her that way – exhausted and bare after being ravished by him. Cato had no doubt that he was just as tired as she – but he was wide awake. He feared falling asleep and waking to only find her presence a dream.

He set the food on the table beside the bed and climbed back beneath the covers. As the bed shifted from Cato's movements, Winnow rolled over and sleepily reached for him. He couldn't tear the smile from his lips as he tugged the girl into his lap.

Winnow was much easier to deal with sleepy, Cato decided. It was the time where he was undisputedly in charge. Before she had trusted him, Winnow had been quick to wake and strike out if he had nudged her on accident or not. But since they had admitted their feelings to each other – his lover had been putty in his hands.

Cato liked both sides to her – he liked arguing with her over control (though, usually, control always fell to Winnow in the end) – and being able to have his way later. Any time he spent curled up with her was a time he looked forward to.

It wasn't the sex. Well, of course Cato enjoyed that too – but it wasn't the part he couldn't wait for. Maybe it would be different if Winnow held out on him, but her appetites seemed to be equal to his – another thing he liked about her. They were in sync. He would not want her to feel forced to satisfy him if she did not want to.

Cato had never felt that was the case. Winnow always seemed to want as much as he did. She might fancy herself a good actress – and others always seemed to fall for it, but Cato could see right through her. Her expression was always schooled, always indifferent – but he could always see the emotion that lay underneath.

It was Winnow's eyes. They were an ordinary pale blue that seemed quite unremarkable, at first. But as Cato got to know her, he noticed more. He noticed how her eyes grew darker in the midst of lust or anger. Noticed how they grew lighter when she was truly, truly happy. Cato had only seen the latter a handful of times, and was determined to make those eyes appear more often.

It was her eyes that betrayed her. He had seen Winnow with a saccharine-sweet smile on her lips and murder in her eyes. Once or twice directed at him – more often at Glimmer or the boy from Three. While that expression might trick someone else – they had to have sensed the danger, Cato reasoned. It was so obvious to him.

Right now her eyes were a hazy blue – between her default and lighter eyes. She was too tired to go to either extreme. She smiled up at him, eyes half-lidded and heavy. "Time to eat, Winnie." Cato said, plucking a sandwich from the plate and wrapping Winnow's hands around the food.

Winnow groaned dramatically, dropping her head onto his shoulder. She nibbled at it half-heartedly as Cato wolfed down two sandwiches in the time she had eaten half. "'m not gonna let you sleep until you finish one." He said as he chewed.

"Shut up Dad." Winnow groused in response, not bothering to lift her head from where it rested on his shoulder.

Cato grimaced. "I personally think that's a disgusting thought, but if that's what you're into…" he attempted to tease her.

There was not much of a response. "Shut up," Winnow merely repeated, still nibbling on her sandwich. "Argue with you later," she muttered, shoving the last quarter of her sandwich into her mouth. Cato chuckled, watching her swallow the dry food slowly. That was when he decided to offer her a glass of juice.

Winnow glared at him for not offering it earlier, snatching the glass from his hand. She tilted her head back and took a long draught, juice dribbling down her chin. Winnow offered it back to him and he set it down on the table beside them – and then, in sync, the pair sank down under the covers.

With a fair bit of fumbling, Cato managed to turn off the lights with the remote beside the bed and then he turned his attention to getting comfortable. Winnow dragged the covers over them both before turning and spreading out beside him.

While not entwined as Cato would have liked – Winnow lay right beside him – and she did not protest as he threw an arm over her. In fact, she hitched her leg over his own, bringing their bodies closer together. Cato exhaled in relief, his warm breath hitting her cheek. Winnow giggled lowly and pressed her lips to his for just a moment before tucking her face in the crook between his neck and shoulder - her new favorite place, it seemed.

It wasn't long until he felt her breathing even out and her limbs go slack. Cato drew her just a little closer, burying his nose in her hair. The dark strands didn't have the scent he remembered- instead bearing the harsh smell of chemicals. He hoped it wouldn't take long to wear off – it was an unpleasant odor.

After around an hour of holding Winnow and waiting for sleep to come, Cato finally began to drift off. His sleep was thankfully dreamless and peaceful.

Alright, lovelies... I'm eager to hear your thoughts. Review for me.

Love, Suz.