AN: Hey guys welcome to Abomination! THIS IS NOT A CATO/KATNISS FIC! If that's why you're here hit the back button now. Also this is hardly an M story, but there is a lemon in here, so it had to be. Sorry. I do not own the Hunger Games. I'll say there's a big twist coming up! Thanks for reading!

I can sense the emergence of danger before I see it. Fortunately, the first knife comes whizzing in on my right side so I can hear it and I'm able to deflect it with my bow. I turn, drawing back the bowstring and send an arrow straight at Clove's heart. She turns just enough to avoid a fatal hit, but the point punctures her upper left arm. Unfortunately, she throws with her right, but it's enough to slow her down a few moments, having to pull the arrow from her arm, take in the severity of the wound. I keep moving, positioning the next arrow automatically, as only someone who had hunted for years can do.

I'm at the table now, my fingers closing over the tiny orange backpack. My hand slips between it's straps and I yank it up my arm, it's really too small to fit on any other part of my anatomy, and I'm turning to fire again when the second knife catches me in the forehead. It slices above my right eyebrow, opening a gash that sends a gush running down my face, blinding my eye, filling my mouth with the sharp, metallic taste of my own blood. I stagger backward but still manage to send my readied arrow in the general direction of my assailant. I know as it leaves my hands it will miss. And then Clove slams into me, knocking me flat on my back, pinning my shoulders to the ground with her knees.

This is it, I think, and hope for Prim's sake it will be fast. But Clove means to savor the moment. Even feels she has time. No doubt Cato is somewhere, nearby, guarding her, waiting for Thresh and possibly Peeta.

"Where's your boyfriend, District Twelve? Still hanging on?" She asks.

Well, as long as we're talking I'm alive. "He's out there now. Hunting Cato," I snarl at her. Then I scream at the top of my lungs. "Peeta!"

Clove jams her fist into my windpipe, very effectively cutting off my voice. But her head's whipping from side to side, and I know for a moment she's at least considering I'm telling the truth. Since no Peeta appears to save me, she turns back to me.

"Liar," she says with a grin. "He's nearly dead. Cato knows where he cut him. You've probably got him strapped up in some tree while you try to keep his heart going. What's in the pretty little backpack? That medicine for Lover Boy? Too bad he'll never get it."

Clove opens her jacket. It's lined with a impressive array of knives. She carefully selects an almost dainty-looking number with a cruel curved blade. "I promised Cato if he let me have you, I'd give the audience a good show."

I'm struggling now in an effort to unseat her, but it's no use. She's too heavy and her lock on me too tight.

"Forget it, District Twelve. We're going to kill you. Just like we did your pathetic little ally... what was her name? The one who hopped around in the trees? Rue? Well, first Rue, then you, and then I think we'll let nature take care of Lover Boy. How does that sound?" Clove asks. "Now where to start?"

She carelessly wipes away the blood from my wound with her jacker sleeve. For a moment, she surveys my face, tilting it from side to side as if it's a block of wood and she's deciding exactly what pattern to carve on it. I attempt to bite her hand, but she grabs her hair on the top of my head, forcing me back to the ground. "I think..." she almost purrs. "I think we'll start with your mouth." I clamp my teeth together as she teasingly traces the outline of my lips with the tip of her blade.

I won't close my eyes. The comment about Rue has filled me with fury, enough fury I think to die with some dignity. As my last act of defiance, I will stare her down as long as I can see, which will probably not be an extended period of time, I will not cry out, I will die, in my own small way, undefeated.

"Yes, I don't think you'll have much use for your lips anymore. Want to blow Lover Boy one last kiss?" she asks. I work up a mouthful of blood and saliva and spit in her face. She flushes with rage. "All right then. Let's get started."

I brace myself for the agony that's sure to follow. But as I feel the tip open the first cut at my lip, some great force yank Clove from my body and then she's screaming. I'm too stunned at first, too unable to process what has happened. Has Peeta somehow come to my rescue? Have the Gamemakers sent in some wild animal to add to the fun? Has a hovercraft inexplicably plucked her into the air?

But when I push myself up on my numb arms, I see it's none of the above. Clove is dangling a foot off the ground, imprisoned in Thresh's arms. I let out a gasp, seeing him like that, towering over me, holding Clove like a rag doll. I remember him as big, but he seems more massive, more powerful than I recall. If anything, he seems to have gained weight in the arena. He flips Clove around and flings her onto the ground.

When he shouts, I jump, never having heard him speak above a mutter. "What'd you do to that little girl? You kill her?"

I get shakily up to my feet, clamoring over to my bow and arrows. Clove is scrambling backward on all fours, like a frantic insect, too shocked to even call for Cato. "No! No it wasn't me!"

"You said her name. I heard you. You kill her?" Another thought brings a fresh wave of rage to his features. "You cut her up like you were going to cut up this girl here?"

"No! No, I-" Clove sees the stone, about the size of a small loaf of bread in Thresh's hand and loses it. "Cato!" she screeches. "Cato!"

"Clove!" I hear Cato's answer suddenly incredibly close. I gasped, stumbling away. Where had he come from? What was he doing? Trying to get Foxface or Peeta? Or had he been lying in wait for Thresh?

Thresh whirls to the sound of his voice, but Cato is fast. With a cry of rage, he tackles Thresh to the ground, kicking away the rock. Clove, coming out of a daze of shock, blinks until her eyes settle on me. I'm almost to the tree line when her shock changed to fury and she pushes herself up to chase me. Unfortunately for her, I've had time to get ready with an arrow knocked and prepped. I will not miss.

She's on her feet now, pulling a throwing knife but she never had time to position it. Her eyes didn't have time to register fear really. Just one split second of a softened expression before the arrow struck through her left eye. The cannon blows and I lower my bow, eyes downcast. I just killed someone like she was an animal. Like she was prey. I sigh. In these games, the hunter becomes the hunted at any given moment and I hated it.

I sneak a glance at her and quickly wish I hadn't. Bile rises in me. What's wrong with me? Hadn't she just been ready to torture me to death?

A strangled cry jerks me from my thoughts. My head snaps up to where Cato and Thresh are fighting, and it's not looking good for Thresh. Cato had brought a sword to a fistfight, and from the amount of blood... Well… I didn't think legs were supposed to bend that way…

I turn on my heel to take off, but not before Cato's piercing eyes catch mine for a split second. As I fly through the brush they bore into my mind. The pure hatred there, the cold bloodlust practically pouring from them; those eyes haunt me. I don't even feel the branches and briars clawing at me as I run. I'm numb, running for my life, and for Peeta's.

That's when I hear the cannon's boom. It's Thresh's cannon, I'm sure of it. But if it was just now sounding, maybe Cato was just finished with him. Maybe he wasn't following me after all! Maybe I was being overly paranoid. I can't hear very well running though, so I pause agilely and quietly, listening.

Crack! NOPE STILL FOLLOWING ME! I take off like a bat out of Hell, my feet eating the ground up faster than they ever had before. I'm no longer worried about stealth; all I know is getting this medicine to Peeta without giving away his location. Both of our lives hang in the balance right now. I'm not sure how I'm going to do this though. Maybe if I can put enough distance between us I could lose him-

"WAIT UP FIREGIRL!" he calls from behind me, between labored breaths. Faster, faster, faster! I have to get out of his sight! I know the cave is coming up soon, but I can't let him find Peeta. He'd kill him right there and then. I'm barely out of Cato's sight now. Pouring it on to get a bit more distance, I know I have just enough time to get in and out of the cave without him seeing I'd ever been in there. It's risky and would possibly be the death of me, but I have to try. For Peeta.

As soon as I see the entrance to our cave, I dart inside, ripping open the package and yanking a syringe out of its sleeve. I stab it into his thigh, shoving down the plunger and sticking the sleeve back in the orange bag. I run back out holding the orange bag just as Cato crashes through the trees. With any luck he hasn't seen where I came from.

I reach for my bow, but he's too fast and he slams me into a tree. "Firegirl," he breathes heavily with his face inches from mine. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Yes, this is quite the pleasant surprise!" I growl sarcastically. His fingers wrap like a vice around my neck, and squeeze lightly. Not enough to choke me, but enough for discomfort, and enough to know he could kill me in seconds.

"I'll be honest, I didn't think you had it in you. But killing Clove like that," he smiles in that taunting smirk of his. "I'm actually impressed. It's a shame really. If you weren't District 12 filth we might have been allies!"

I struggle against him but it's no use. "Please! Like I'd ever want anything to do with an arrogant bastard like you who has his head stuck too far up his own ass to notice that he's just a little boy trying to look bigger by playing the bully. Face it, Cato! I'm not the one who's filth here!"

His hand is gone from my neck, but before I can even notice that, it has curled into a fist and connected with my jaw. The next thing I know I'm on the grass, clutching my jaw to make sure it isn't broken. Pain splices through me at each movement. Definitely not a good sign.

"You might want to be a little nicer to me, bitch! Don't forget you're at my mercy now, Firegirl!" Cato snarls, kicking me hard in the ribs for emphasis. As much as I want to scream out as it felt like spears stabbing through me with each breath, I know I can't give him that satisfaction. I won't let him win.

"I'll never be at your mercy!" I wheeze. "Burn in Hell!" I summon my energy and lift myself, aiming a hard blow for his temple. The swing is perfect! Or would have been, if he hadn't caught my wrist. I twist and pull away from him, but it's like iron holding my wrist. He twists it behind me and whispers into my ear, "We'll see about that."

Just like that, he snaps my wrist. This time I can't keep in the cry that rips from my throat or the tears that spill down my cheeks. Keep it together, Katniss. Don't think about it. "How's that?" Cato laughs. "Still think you'll never be at my mercy?"

The second I see those icy blue eyes, I spit in his face, unafraid, but not able to say much. I refuse to let him see me cower. If he's going to kill me, I will die with my dignity.

He wipes his face with his wrist and his muscles ripple menacingly. But what scares me the most is the joy in his eyes and the real smile of anticipation on his face. It made my blood run cold and adrenaline shoot through my veins. I struggle hard to get up, but he straddles me, sitting on top of my stomach. No matter how hard I try to push him off, he won't budge.

He pulls a knife and now I'm using everything I have in me to get away. This is it, if I don't get away now he will end me. I know he will, and it won't be fast! I have to get away! For Prim! For Peeta! I have to! I writhe underneath him but he only grins larger. "Get off me!" I gasp heavily, trying to get air into me through a Cato on my stomach and at least bruised ribs. It wasn't going too well.

Then all my pains are lost to one pain in my good hand. A knife, piercing completely through the edge of my palm, in one end and out the other, effectively nailing my hand into the ground. The tiniest vibration in the palm is enough to send me screaming in agony, but again I try to hold it in. Small whimpers and cries escape my sealed lips and betray me, the tears not helping much either. I will not break!

But Cato's not done yet, not even close. "Having fun yet, Firegirl? Don't worry. You will," he says as he plunges another knife through the same spot on my other hand. I bite my lip so hard blood rushes into my mouth, tears streaming down my face silently. My hands may be held down but my legs aren't! I roll up my knees and start violently twisting my legs in any effort to unseat him, but it does just the opposite. Cato's legs wrap around my thighs. Oh God, I think I'm gonna puke…

"Here's where the fun begins, Firegirl!" He leans close to my ear and whispers with hot breath in my ear, "Try not to enjoy yourself too much, okay? Wouldn't want people to get ideas, would we?"

"You're sick!" I spit, the taste of blood in my mouth. His sadistic smirk turns my insides cold. A second later, his lips are pressing on mine hungrily, peeling them apart and entering my mouth. I try to bite his tongue, but he's too fast. I can barely breathe as he's stealing away all my breath. When he pulls away for a second I gasp to find air. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear almost teasingly and says, "You ARE a little fireball aren't you?" The slightest inclination of his head brings his lips brushing mine. "I like 'em feisty."

A shudder runs down my spine and I find my whole body quivering. No, no this isn't right! I shouldn't be showing fear, I can't… I can't let him win! He thinks for a moment before leaning away and shedding his jacket and shirt, examining me with cold, yet burning eyes. It's a look I had seen in Clove before she was pulled off of me. I know it means pain.

With the tip of his knife, Cato draws a line down my shirt's seam, not caring when he dug into flesh. I flinch away from the pain, but the overwhelming agony in my hands quickly teaches me that squirming isn't going to do me any good. When he rips away the cloth of my shirt, something connects in my mind and I know where this is going. What he has in mind for me is far worse than death.

No. No no no! "No! Get away from me! I said get away! NOW!" I'm screaming and growling, but Cato only chuckles a bit, his filthy hands slipping under my sports bra. "Why don't you make me, Firegirl?"

Soon he begins to cut away my pants and shed his own. With all the dark hate-filled thoughts racing through my mind at two hundred miles an hour, I had the decency to pray that whatever happened wouldn't be televised. Please, please. Prim and Gale didn't need to see this. Hell, nobody should ever have to see this…

Cato has one hand on my chest, one hand in my hair and he's kissing his way down my neck sloppily, sucking hard as he goes. I know I'll have more than a few bruises if by some miracle I live to see tomorrow.

It's only when he presses into me that I finally break under him. I scream as loud as I can, a blood-curdling, bone-chilling scream. "YEAH!" Cato cries, delight in his smile. "Why so tight, twelve? Not so tough now, are you? Go ahead, little rat! Scream!"

He presses deeper into me. "PEETA! PEETA!" I scream, but I know it's useless. Peeta's still out cold and I have no idea how long he'll stay that way. I'll probably be dead long before he wakes up.

"Your lover boy's going to die soon! There's nobody that can come rescue you. It's just you and me," he chuckles, moving inside me, his hands and lips roaming all over my body. Pain rips me open where I'm most sensitive, and I thrash against him.

I don't mean to say it but as I scream the name forms on my lips. "GALE! PLEASE! Somebody help me…" My voice is dying, and slowly, so am I. I put all my energy into one last heave of my body to try and get Cato off, but it does nothing. Nothing at all. He's still in me and enjoying himself, and there's nothing I can do about it. Maybe dying wouldn't be so bad right now.

The strength is gone from me now and I'm limp under him. I'm honestly about to close my eyes and will death to come to me when I see something move behind Cato. It's Peeta, and he's leaning heavily against the rock, but he's not favoring his leg. He's healed. The tiniest of smiles appears on my lips. He's going to be okay, as long as he can make it against Cato. He's probably just still fuzzy coming out of his drug-induced sleep. He's not near me, but I can tell that even fuzzy-minded, he's pissed.

No, I want to tell him. Run! Get away from here. Maybe Cato's torturing me would buy Peeta enough time to get away and hide. But he staggers closer. A raspy cry leaps from his lips. "Katniss!"

Cato freezes, slowly getting up and refastening his clothes like he has all the time in the world. He winks at me, causing me to shiver involuntarily, before turning to Peeta. "Isn't this awkward?" he sneers. "It's too bad you'll never get to do her, Lover Boy. She was fun!"

"GET AWAY FROM HER!" Peeta cries, stepping away from the rock. He's a little shaky at first but he's walking fine now, our knife grasped shakily in his hand. Maybe, just maybe he could have a shot at winning this.

Cato holds himself high with pride, sauntering towards Peeta and leaving me broken and useless behind him. I've never felt more helpless. Cato is smirking, pulling his sword from its sheath. "And what're you gonna do about it, Baker Boy? Frost me to death?" he laughed. "Sorry about your Lover Girl. But I will say she really was on fire-"

"SHUT UP!" Peeta growled, throwing himself at Cato with every ounce of strength in his body, knife swinging.

But of course, Cato was prepared for it. He spun away and slashed at Peeta, slicing into his shoulder. "No Peeta…" I want to scream it, but all I can do is whisper. I want to get up and fight alongside him, to watch Cato get what he deserves, but my body wouldn't move. Every shiver that runs through me from the cold sweat covering me sends agony slicing through my hands and between my legs. I feel so dirty, like Cato's still inside me.

Cato makes a swipe for Peeta, but only manages to knick his arm. Peeta pauses, sweat dripping down his face already, waiting for Cato's next move. When it happens, he's ready. Cato lunges, dagger at the ready, but Peeta swipes a low kick at his feet, knocking them both to the ground. In a second, Peeta's over him, trying to press the knife to his opponent's throat. But Cato's smart and throws his weight, and the two of them are wrestling for their lives.

There has to be something I can do. Something… Cato and Peeta have both knocked the knives away from them slightly and are in the middle of an all-out brawl. Then all the action stops. Cato's claws wrap around Peeta's throat and clamp down.

"No!" I try to cry but barely any sound escapes my throat. Any adrenaline left in me rushes to my right hand. I hold my breath and squeeze my eyes shut. Quick like a bandage, Katniss. One, two, THREE! I rip my hand away from the knife with all my strength that I had left (which wasn't much), opening a massive rift in my palm, blood dripping from it instantly. I cry out, my voice breaking.

Peeta's gasping is the only thing that gives me the strength to use my screaming free hand to pull the knife that had been skewered through my palm from the ground. I'm weak and I have one shot at this. Better aim high. In, out. I take aim. In, out, in, release…

The knife flies from my hurt grasp and still dips low and kind of to the right, but I hit Cato's back. He snarls in pain, lifting away from Peeta to try and rip the knife from his back. The life floods back into Peeta as Cato turns and paces towards me. His cold blue eyes lock onto mine. Our blood mingles dripping down the blade.

Peeta scrambles for his knife as Cato approaches me, but I can hardly see past those haunting eyes getting closer and closer. I cringe left, in the only way I can go. I'm going to die, I'm going to die! I don't mind so much as long as Peeta gets away…

But no sooner has he reached me as he collapses to the ground, those hunters' eyes going glassy. "Wh-what?" I manage to choke out. Peeta stands where Cato used to, looking down at the body (which I now see has our knife standing out from the neck) with demons lurking behind his eyes. I've never seen Peeta like this and I never want to again. His gaze shifts to meet mine, and sorrow fills them. "Katniss," he sighs, dropping to his knees beside me.

Gently he leans across me and braces my hand with one of his, using the other to slowly pull out the knife. He's trying to be gentle, but it's agony. I whimper, trying to pull away, but it only hurts more. "Stay still," he murmurs as he removes it, laying it on the bloody grass beside me.

But I don't listen, suddenly realizing how exposed I am, I try to turn away from him. His gentle hand on my shoulder is enough to stop me. He shrugs out of his jacket and shirt, helping guide my arms into the sleeves of his jacket. My broken wrist screams in protest, but eventually I'm in the jacket with only a couple of cries of pain. Peeta drapes his shirt over my abdomen, trying to give me back some modesty. He moves so he's behind me and lets me lean back on him. I look up into his eyes and everything spills out. My frustration at my own weakness, how I failed Prim and Gale, how they must be so disappointed in me, my guilt at Peeta's shoulder wound, how I've let down all of Panem, all of it spills out hot tears down my face. The great Mockingjay has fallen.

"Katniss, I'm so sorry! Why did you go? You promised me you wouldn't leave! It was supposed to be me. I was supposed to die for you. You were supposed to win!" Tears drip down from his cheeks into my hair. "You would have been safe in that cave, you could have stayed there until he starved. You would have been okay. Katniss, I'm so sorry! I should have protected you. I'm sorry… so sorry…"

I try to lift my trembling hand to his face, but I can't. Again, I curse my weakness, but he catches on and guides it up to his cheek. "Thank you, Peeta," I whisper, a small smile on my lips.

He smiles back and leaned down to kiss me gently. When he pulled away, he looked around. "We won right? Where's the hovercraft? The fanfare?"

He's right. Why haven't they come to get us? As if in answer to our questions, Caesar Flickerman's voice booms through the arena. "Attention tributes. The previous revision to the rules allowing more than one victor has been…revoked. Only one victor may be crowned. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

Peeta and I lock gazes for just a second before I drop it. He gently lays me on the ground before standing up, and that's just fine with me. I'm actually wondering if there are ways of actually killing yourself by losing will to live in an injured state. That's happened before right?

Peeta is pacing in front of me, his hands clawing at his hair. "How could they do this to us? After all we've been through! Building up our hopes just to bring them crushing down on us! It's not like we can just not do it, they'd set mutts on us or something, and you're injured…"

"You're injured too, Peeta…" Ouch. After screaming so much, my throat's raw.

Peeta waves me off. "It's nothing, Katniss, don't worry about me. We have to do something…but…there's nothing we can do, is there?" I shake my head minutely, closing my eyes. I'll die for Peeta. I'm no good as the Mockingjay anymore anyways.

"Katniss? Katniss, how bad did he hurt you? What did that bastard do to you?" When I didn't answer him, he shook me slightly and the pain made me wince. He got the message and stopped. "I need to know you'll live… I need you to kill me, Katniss."

My eyes sprang open. "What?"

The deadly calm in his eyes shook my core. "I need you to kill me. You need to go home. For Prim. For Panem. I can't live knowing I've failed you like this." He ran a hand through my hair.

Did he think I could? Did he not see me, broken in front of him? "No! Peeta! Can't you see I'm already dead? You're more use to them all right now than I am. Go home, Peeta. Just walk away, please."

"No. I'm not leaving you! Not now, not ever. Never again."

He stooped to kiss me, holding me like I was the most precious thing in the world. And when I feel worthless and dirty, that's all I need. "Together then?" I asked him, pouring nightlock into my hand, and dumping a few in Peeta's as well.

His eyes dart from the berries to my face. "Together. One."

He touches my hair, his fingers trailing my face. I count, "Two."

"Three."

AN: No, this isn't the end. This is not a one-shot. New chapter coming soon! Sorry if this thing is in very bad condition. I need a beta. I may go back and edit this if someone decides to be my beta (I have an idea but if Alessia decides not to, I'm open to betas! But yeah, this is a rough draft. I was just so excited to publish it, I've had this idea for a while. REVIEW PLEASE!

V