Author's Note: Hi! I'm posting this in the morning, a couple of hours before my family is leaving on a skiing weekend, and I haven't even packed yet! I wanted to get this chapter out first, or else you would have to wait another 3 days for an update. So here it is! Thank you for everyone who reviewed the last chapter, I really appreciate it and it's hard to get across how much they really do mean to me. Any advice you can give me would be great, or even just a :) ! I really should get going, so here's chapter three and I hope you enjoy it!

Crowd of Two

Chapter Three

Cato's POV

As my cheek stings from Grey's hand hitting my face I feel a flash of anger rising; no one slaps me. But when I hear a loud sob escape her as she tears through the train away from me, I feel like I've done something terribly wrong. What's happened to me? Before the games I was emotionless, I didn't feel regret, and I didn't have to worry about whether my actions would affect some girl. But now I'm full of conflicting emotions that no matter how hard I try to control them just keep coming back, screaming at me.

I feel a deep flush of shame, a rare emotion, as it dawns on me. I had almost become a real person in the games, with a conscience and feelings and somebody that had actually maybe even loved me. But then when I woke up after my surgery, Brutus happened.

"Delirious, injured." My mentor had instructed me, leaning over my stretcher while I regained consciousness and my mind was still hazy. "You didn't know what you were doing, you felt nothing for that scum, and you were just trying to make your district proud. Maybe you won't be a complete waste if you just pretend this never happened. But first you have to cut off any loose ends."

I had woken up fully in an empty room, unexplainably angry at Grey for stealing my victory. And then I had told her what Brutus had spoon-fed me, changing back to my old monster self. Because maybe that's just who I am supposed to be.

I start to run in the direction that Grey had gone, calling out for her but knowing she isn't going to listen to me. It's funny how you can ruin something with just a minute of stupidity. After a few minutes of running I'm wondering how many carriages this train has, when suddenly I open a door and come out onto the back balcony of the train with only a bar separating me from the fast moving tracks. Grey is hanging onto the bar like it is all she has left, and for a moment I'm afraid that she's going to fling herself off as we hurtle along the tracks, but I know that no victor of the games would ever do that when they have given so much to live, especially her. She struggles as I envelope her in my arms, pulling her back into the train compartment. She turns her head to look at me and when she confirms who it is she fights back harder, kicking me roughly in the shin. I instinctively want to hiss and I feel my temper bubble but I manage to hold it in and instead lift her off the ground and restrain her failing limbs as I carry her back to the middle of the train.

Grey screams a whole dictionary of obscenities at me as I carry her, but she quickly exhausts herself from kicking me and becomes sullen but well behaved. I stride into my room and place her on the bed, where she curls into a fetal position with her blonde hair shielding her face from me. I figure that she isn't going to say anything but she surprises me when she does.

"What, you've brought me back so you can ridicule me again?" Her tone is knife sharp and I instantly know that I have deeply hurt her. I want to say something to make this better but she interrupts me.

"Why did you say such horrible things to me, especially when we both know they aren't true?" That question stumps me; I hadn't expected Grey to say that. And for that reason I don't have a sarcastic answer waiting and I gape for a few seconds before I am forced to go with the raw truth instead.

"Brutus was there when I woke up; trying to make me into the emotionless career I was back in 2. He succeeded so you must have been wrong about me; I am just a broken monster." Grey sits up and reaches to touch my cheek. I flinch away from her and she drops her hand when she feels me tense.

"Brutus' actions are not your fault, but what came out of your mouth was. You are your own person, so stop thinking that everyone has the right to control you. You're not a monster, but we are both broken. That's why we need each other more than ever, Cato. Please." Her eyes are wide and terrified, as if she is imagining facing this alone.

"No more pretending." She whispers.

Grey's POV

Cato's eyes widen slightly at my comment, as if he is about to argue that he isn't pretending to be brave, he is brave. But when he makes eye contact with me he quickly looks away again, ashamed, and I realise that as well as hurting me, Brutus' little attempt to make Cato a career again hurt Cato as well. He didn't think it was so easy for someone to change him back into a monster, even for a second but here he was back at square one. Or so he thinks. I give him a strong hug but I can feel some tension in his frame still so I give him a passionate kiss that makes him groan into my mouth, his problems temporarily forgotten.

We walk hand in hand into the lounge where I talked with Finnick not long ago and I notice as the doors close behind us that Brutus is there and the two of them are having a heated discussion. I catch the end of their conversation as Brutus points at us and shouts one last comment with the intention of winning the argument.

"Just look at them, he's become an idiot, he is a disgrace to the district. And she is no better, how can you be in support of them together?" I feel Cato freeze beside me. He wanted to win the games to make his district proud; being told that he has done the opposite is a very low blow and his mentor knows it.

"You know what?" I step forward, and I feel Cato shadow but not stop me, "I don't know you, but stop treating Cato like this. He won! He brought a LOT of pride to District 2 so stop attacking him! You should be thanking him." I have the urge to spit in Brutus' face but I know to hold it in. Finnick is looking at me, nodding ever so slightly. Brutus has his mouth curled into a malicious sneer; I half expect him to punch me in the face and I'm tempted to just ask him to get it over with, but when he replies his voice is unexpectedly quiet.

"Getting your girlfriend to fight your battles now Cato?" He smirks and walks out of the room, giving Cato a cold hard stare that makes Cato stick his chest out aggressively in response, before walking out of the carriage. Cato clenches his fists in anger but says nothing, and Finnick stands up and places a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't listen to him, Cato." He says, and I realise that this is the first time he has directly spoken to Cato. The blonde victor nods curtly and puts a strong expression on his face, taking my hand in his.

"I think it is best if Grey accompanies you to your district, to make sure nothing gets out of hand. It'll be good for the both of you. Get some rest now, in several hours we arrive at 2."

The two of us pause outside our separate rooms in the train, as if we are waiting for the other to admit that they want them there for when the expected nightmares come. Instead, Cato gives a curt goodnight and kisses me on the forehead, lingering for a moment before entering his room and letting the door slide shut behind him. I know he is only hurt and slightly indignant about the day's events and the criticism made of him, but it is a harsh reminder that any second Cato could easily become emotionally distant and actually turn into his old self permanently. I remind myself that by sparing my life in the arena, he has already changed beyond repair but it does nothing to comfort me.

My bedroom is pleasant and clean, although it is almost completely empty except for a bed and a wardrobe. There's a large window that gives a view of the passing scenery and if I wanted to I know that I could change it into a view from any district. I explore my room in the hopes of finding a bathroom and once I locate the shower I have the most vigorous wash that I have had in my entire life. It takes a good 10 minutes before the water running off my body is no longer discoloured. I feel so much better once I'm cleaned of the blood of former tributes, and I put on a short, blue nightdress that was hung in the cupboard. I brush the knots out of my hair with a brush as I try to keep the thoughts of Cato in the adjacent room out of my head and with nothing in the room to amuse my thoughts I decide to go to bed early.

My dreams that night are plagued with the worst nightmares I have ever experienced. I had been prepared for them after hearing the multiple interviews with past victors that discussed how they were haunted for many years with the screams of the dead, but hearing about it is nothing compared to experiencing it. First I relive the bloodbath where I killed my first tribute. The whole moment is dragged out as the boy falls to the ground, his eyes wide in a look of shock. Then I see Rue in her last moments, her eyes more frightened than I remember as Spens cackles evilly. But this time he doesn't stop and he continues to stab her, even though she is long dead. I can't move my legs to push him away, so I am forced to watch it again and again. And then I begin to see Cato's deaths. Sometimes he is stabbed by Spens, ripped apart by Mutts like Marvel, or drowned in the river, but all the situations lead to him lying motionless on the ground in front of me. Then it repeats and I am forced to watch a new massacre that my mind creates.

"Grey. Grey, please. Wake up." My eyes flash open and I am instantly aware of a burning in my throat which tells me that I have been screaming. Cato is standing over me with his hand on my shoulder, still shaking me gently. I can see goose-bumps on his arms and bare chest but he doesn't move. His eyes are wide and shadowed and I can tell that he hasn't slept.

I try to say that I am okay and he can go back to his room but instead it comes out as a whimper, which makes Cato come closer and perch on the bed near my head. I don't bother saying that I don't need him, because he already knows that I do. Cato pulls the covers away from my body and slides in beside me. He wraps one hand around my waist and begins to stroke my hair gently with the other, entwining his legs with mine until we can't get any closer together. The proximity seems to be therapeutic for the both of us, because in a few minutes the pressure around me becomes relaxed and Cato's head falls gently against the pillow in sleep, his breathing slow after so long being rushed.

I have no more nightmares that night; he has two. Cato sleeps for a couple of hours uninterrupted but wakes both of us up when he cries out. I see out of the corner of my eye his expression instantly change into one that is blank and expressionless, not wanting to admit to being afraid. I don't know if he realizes I'm awake, so I lie dead still, pretending I'm still asleep. If he knows, he ignores it, and gently touches my cheek to reassure himself that I'm still there, before eventually falling back asleep.