Sooo, I suddenly got an idea of how to continue this story, and well, I didn't want to let go of it so I wrote this!

I truly hope you enjoy. (Even if it sucks.)

Disclaimer: Seriously?

It was night time, and it was freezing. And because no one would dare the Careers all together, they built a bonfire to keep themselves warm.

Glimmer and Cato were together, as usual. Clove distanced herself from the group, holding her jacket tighter around her and slept in a fetal position. Marvel was a good five feet away from the couple and still had a frown on his sleeping face. Peeta, meanwhile, slept closest to the fire. Clove swore it was because it reminded him of Katniss.

Psh, only weaklings are made fools by love, Clove thought.

She tried sleeping about an hour ago but she couldn't. It was too cold and her jacket was the only thing giving her warmth. It wasn't enough. She was shivering and she couldn't do anything about it. Clove had fallen asleep after half an hour of figuring out how to keep herself warm and failing to.

Cato, with Glimmer holding on to his left arm, was the only one who had not fallen asleep in their little elite group. He was thinking of how when he won, he'd have all the glory and fame and the whole of Panem would know about him. District 2, strong, brutal, merciless. He smirked, yes, that would be nice.

But his thoughts were cut off by a small cough from his right side.

Naturally, he looked over there and saw a small figure shivering in the cold. Clove?

Ah, well, leave her be. She said she didn't need any help anyway, he thought at first.

But something inside of him wouldn't let her just freeze, so he shook Glimmer away and walked over to check on Clove.

She was shivering badly. And her breaths came out in puffs in her feeble attempt to warm herself even while asleep. Her jacket did not do much help, so he kneeled down beside her and took his jacket off to put it over her. But when he had moved her into a better sleeping position, he became aware of how hot her skin felt. Maybe I'm just cold, he shrugged. But he placed the back of his hand on her neck to double check anyway. He wasn't cold. It was Clove who was hot. Clove was terribly sick.

"What the fuck?" he said. How did this happen?

He looked from her deathly pale face down to her curled body. How?

And then he remembered the cut on her finger. It must've gotten infected.

Clove, you idiot. And you said you didn't need any help. He wanted to smack her for being so careless, but she was shivering like never before and her body was racking with coughs and she had never looked so ill in her lifetime that all Cato wanted to do was hug her and share his warmth. But Cato couldn't hug her. He reminded himself that they were still in the Games and that they were shown on National Television.

He had no idea of what to do with Clove when the parachute floated down to him.

He immediately took it, read the card (Apply gel to all cuts. Drink liquid when deathly ill.) and opened the canister.

He gently placed her head on his thigh and put a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to calm down her shivering.

It must've worked for she lay still for the next few minutes. He put some gel on his fingertip and carefully placed it on her cut. It was then that he had noticed that she had a lot more cuts on her face. He healed all of those.

Why was he doing all of this? He asked himself. He figured that it was because Clove was from the same district as he was, and he was still her partner after all. Partners looked out for each other, right? At least that's what he told himself.

Suddenly, she was shaking again. Even more vigorously than before. And Cato was scared, but Cato was never supposed to be scared wasn't he? So let's just say Cato lost his cool. He held her shoulders in an attempt to keep her still, but Clove just coughed harder. She looked like she had trouble even breathing. She put her hand to her chest, pounding it, and then lay limp.

"Clove!" Cato yelled.

Thankfully, none of his comrades woke up. Not even Clove.

He looked at her chest to check if she was still breathing.

She was.

Clove, you fucking bitch! You scared me half to my fucking death. Don't ever fucking do this again, okay? He wanted to scream at her for terrifying him, but he couldn't.

She had never looked so vulnerable and weak. Two traits that don't fit nicely with Clove. She was strong, stealthy, fast and lithe. She was all those and none of the weak stuff. She never was. So it petrified him to see her suddenly so... vulnerable and weak.

He placed her head on his thigh again and opened her mouth to pour the liquid. He watched her choke on it a bit and he swore that if she had another episode, he would kill her for terrifying him again. Even if she didn't mean it. She swallowed the medicine, eventually.

It must've worked well because the color was coming back to her and she wasn't shivering so much anymore. Still, he placed his jacket over her. Just in case the shivers came back. It was almost dawn so he went back beside Glimmer and tried to catch a few more snoozes before they had to be up and running again.

CLATO FOR LIFE, OKAY? Haha.

Reviews for creative criticism?