Summary: A dream reminds Cato what he lost to be in these Games.

Rating: T

Warnings: Language

Notes: I had always wondered why Cato had taken special interest in Katniss. I never bought the idea that it was because she had gotten the 11 in training. So here is my reason why. Also, the italics indicate a dream. Read and review please.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or any elements of it. Rozene Ader, however, is completely and utterly MINE.

He watches her sleep. Hair the color of a perfect cherry cascades in lush waves across the stark white of the pillow. Her nails dig into the bed, and she gives a small shudder, whining softly. His brow folds in worry. He presses his lips to her forehead gently, and she relaxes. Two sapphires look up at him. Those deep blue orbs are sleepy as they meet his gaze.

"Cato," she whispers. Her voice is ragged and gritty. His heart wrenches as he realizes she cried all night. And he had been away the entire time training for those damn Games. He swallows heavily, forcing the anger down.

"Shhh, easy," he says softly. She rises up in a flurry and flings her arms around him. "I know."

"No. No, you don't," she mumbles. She shakes in his arms. Her fear is evident.

"Rozene…" She looks up when he says her name. "Rozene, I won't leave you." She shakes her head, lip quivering as she starts to cry again. Weak sobs rattle her exhausted frame and tears zigzag across her face. "I swear I won't volunteer. I promise you I will slip into the crowd and disappear. They won't call my name. And I won't give in." He combs through her ruby red hair, pulling the mats out with tender caution. Cato kisses her with an uncharacteristic gentleness. Rozene closes her eyes and succumbs to him. She brushes a lock of his blonde hair aside, cradling his face in her hand.

"You have to promise me everything will be okay, Cato. You have to." Rozene's deep blue eyes were glassy with desperation.

"I promise." Cato nuzzles her neck, dragging her petite frame against him. He leans against the headboard of the bed, holding her in his arms. Rozene rests her head on his chest and listens to his strong heartbeat.

A soft breath passes her lips. Her fiery soul has been stomped out with the approach of the Games. She knows how long Cato has dreamt of going. Rozene strokes his side absently as her thoughts of what could happen attack her shattered physce. She knew he wouldn't die of starvation or dehydration. He would not allow such a pitiful death. Cato was always one to do things differently, boldly. Being killed in a final battle, being slaughtered fending off a pack of traitors alone…those were Cato-worthy death. Nothing cowardly. Nothing that would bring him disgrace. Nothing that would make her ashamed to say he had lost.

Cato sees that distant look in her endless azure eyes. He knows she is thinking too much. That is confirmed when she bites her lip and a lone tear marches shamelessly across her tanned face. He kisses it away. He searches her lightly-freckled face and panics.

"Stop," he orders in a fretful growl. "You stop it right now. I'm not going to get chosen for these games. I'm not going to volunteer. I'm going to stay right here with you." He pauses. "Do you hear me?"

Rozene nods, wiping at her eyes. She sniffles lightly and sighs.

"Tell me you hear me. Tell me you understand."

"I hear you. I understand."

"Good." Cato tilts her chin up and kisses her lips. "You need to sleep now, okay? And we'll have all of tomorrow together."

Her eyes light up at his promise. "Really?" Cato smiles and nods, tapping her nose.

"Get some rest, though." He starts to get up to leave, but she pulls him back.

"Stay," Rozene whispers, laying a hand on his chest. All her fear is gone. He sees the desperation and devotion within her angled eyes. She pushes him down, surprisingly strong for such a small girl. Rozene drags him over her. Cato kisses her heatedly, their tongues twining together briefly. His lips venture down; he kisses her neck. She tugs his head up gently. Her dark blue eyes meet his icy irises. Cato takes her hand, squeezing it tight.

"I love you, Cato," whispers Rozene.

"And I love you, beautiful." He brings her hand up to his face; she strokes his cheek. "Don't ever give up on me, Rozene."

"I won't. I couldn't."

Darkness swirls around the two before closing and consuming the lovers.

Cato Tiress twitched awake. He cold, blue eyes opened with alarming quickness. Clove had hardly touched him.

"Your turn," she muttered softly, collapsing on the ground. His fellow District Two tribute curled up against Glimmer and soon fell asleep.

Cato sighed. He picked up his sword and strode across the tiny clearing. After finding a prime spot for watching all angles, Cato cleared away an area. He swept the leaves away to avoid making noise. Cato sat down against the wiry maple tree. He wiped his sword off idly. His eyes travelled upward, landing on Katniss's sleeping form. Anger burned in his eyes, licking up every part in his body. It wasn't fair. Why was she alive? Why was she allowed to live her life? Why was she breathing? Why was she allowed to stay with her lover? Why had she been given all of this and his darling Rozene hadn't?

He hated Katniss. That was painfully obvious. The little District Twelve bitch was too much like Rozene. That fire. That caged soul. That utter devotion. That hidden desire to love. It was all disturbingly reminiscent of Rozene. Rozene…

A pained sound came from Cato. He thrust his sword deep into the pine tree beside him. Rage and unbridled suffering clouded his icy eyes and took hold of his golden-muscled frame. He slammed his fists into the ground, tearing out flowers and grass and saplings. Cato spit curses and cries of hatred at Katniss. He sank down to press his forehead to the cold ground, faint tears sliding down his cheeks.

"Rozene," he whimpered into the dirt. "Damn, Rozene, why did you have to leave?" Cato sobbed softly. "I miss you! I miss you!" He didn't care that the Capitol and all the districts were staring at him, watching him fall apart and lose his mind. The other tributes were too tired to hear or just didn't care. Cato, of course, didn't mind. He nuzzled a flower nearby that had dodged his earlier wrath. His eyes snapped open as he recognized the shape of the petals, the feel of the bristly leaves. Cato raised his head, and his heart stopped.

Dark, maroon colored petals adorned a blue-green stem. His fingertips skimmed over the tiny plant. It was the flower he had given Rozene to make up for their first fight. Salt-laced tears dribbled down his face, and he wiped them off gingerly on the young flower.

He knew it was the Gamemakers. He knew it was Snow that had told them to do this. And suddenly that flower was ugly to him. It was no longer delicate and beautiful, but it was now a piece in this sadistic game. It was a weapon against the last thing Cato had: his mind. And even that was beginning to fade away.

"I'm sorry, Rozene," he said softly, hurt filling his voice. He ripped the flower out of the ground and tossed it into the burning coals. He watched it as it was consumed by the flames and replaced by gray ashes. Cato stared deeply into the fire. The night slowly passed by. All the while, Cato's mind slowly became as shattered as his heart.

Read and review my lovlies :D