(EDIT: Hey guys! I added on an extra ending to this chapter. I needed to fit it in somewhere and the beginning of the next just didn't seem right.)

Happy Belated Easter everyone! I first and foremost want to give a big big big big thankyou again to everyone who reviewed! You guys seriously made me so happy. I really can't describe how I felt when I came online and saw what you all wrote. And a special thankyou to BreathingTimeMachine who reviewed each of my chapters. AHHH You're all so awesome! And you have all motivated me to keep going with this story. Thankyou thankyou thankyou!3

Also on a side note I'm trying to weave various aspects into Clove's story that explain at least somewhat why she is the way she is. I mean no one just comes out a vicious killer. Not drifting into R.E.M. sleep often enough for example would be detrimental to someone's physical and mental well-being (cough cough).

And one last thing too! (Then I'm done, I promise haha). Though I absolutely loved the movie and I thought the casting was perfect- while writing this I am going to stay loyal to what was shown in the book as opposed to what we saw in the movie. I thought this was important to mention. (Though I must admit I pictured Clove as looking like the beautiful and ever-talented Isabelle Fuhrman before she was even cast- so that ended up perfect.) For example today we shall explore one small statement made by Katniss in the books where she said she saw Thresh decline an invitation from the Careers ;)

Once again all characters belong to Suzanne Collins.


4.

Lyme walked as if every step drained more and more from her body's already depleted storage of energy while Clove trailed beside her. There were purple rings beneath her eyes that almost matched the awful color of Clove's now swollen wrists. Her mentor must have not come back to their suite last night until long after Clove had returned to her bed, thinking of a million different ways to kill her bastard of a district partner.

Now they navigated through a maze of hallways in the basement of the building, where both the training center and the medic's station were located.

That morning, Brutus had waited till Lyme sluggishly made her way down the stairs and took her place at the fully occupied table to suggest in a pleasantly amused tone that she should take a look at her tributes wrists. This was followed by Lyme shooting up and slamming her coffee cup on the table with enough force to make even Brutus jump. But when she demanded to know what happened, he simply jerked his head to Cato without saying a word. Then in the blink of an eye she was dragging Clove out the door and into the elevator.

It simply boggled Clove's mind as to how, even in the mornings, Brutus still managed to be a persistent asshole.

However despite her immediate reaction, Lyme had been entirely silent for the majority of their walk. The energy she displayed when she first saw Clove's damaged wrists had evaporated as quickly as it came. It wasn't until they were standing in front of the door to the station that she put a large hand on Clove's shoulder and spoke.

"What happened?" she said. It was curious as to why she had waited this long to ask the question.

But Clove didn't want to talk about it. Not because it had disturbed her, but because she didn't like the attention she was receiving over the incident. It made her feel helpless. So she just shrugged.

Lyme didn't accept this as an answer though and annoyance suddenly took over Clove. She didn't like feeling forced to do anything.

"Why does it matter?" she snapped.

Lyme's face remained unchanged as she continued to wait. Clove gritted her teeth. She wasn't going to win this.

"I threatened him so he grabbed me by the wrists," she said, careful to leave the knife out of the summary. At least Brutus had been so kind as to not inform Lyme that her tribute had attempted to stab his tribute last night.

For a moment it didn't seem that this had been a satisfactory answer but Lyme eventually took it with a sigh of exasperation and opened the door. But before allowing Clove to walk in, she leaned down close to her ear.

"Don't trust Brutus," she muttered.

When the words finally gained meaning, Lyme was already half way down the hall.


Less than an hour later, the pain and swelling in her wrists had been reduced to a near non-existent amount thanks to a cast of brightly colored professionals and their needles. As a matter of fact, the slight discoloration where the purple bruises once were was the only sign that an injury had ever existed.

All of the damage had been undone. Well… almost all of it.

She still wanted Cato's blood. Last night she had made a small promise to herself that before she killed him, she would be sure to slice his hands off with his own sword.

But this wasn't forefront on her mind as she made her way from the medic's station to the training center. Instead she couldn't stop thinking about the very simple warning her mentor had given before her departure.

Don't trust Brutus.

What did this mean? The only conclusion she could come to was that Brutus must have had it out for her. She assumed this anyway considering the shared glory a mentor receives when their tribute comes out a victor. But perhaps it was more than she had anticipated judging by Lyme's reaction this morning. She couldn't know for sure. Either way the warning was unnecessary.

Clove had never trusted Brutus.

As she reared the corner to the training center, she had to stop short to avoid walking into Glimmer.

The lovely District One tribute was busy arranging her cape of golden blonde hair into a pony-tail with elegant hands, allowing it to flow across her shoulder. Her green eyes took notice to little Clove who opposed in her ascetics in just about every way possible – rather than being tall with long athletic legs, she was short and still maintained an un-matured body plan; rather than having a narrow face with high-cheek bones and skin the color of the moon, her face was sharper and had a sprinkle of light freckles across her cheeks and nose; rather than having emerald green eyes framed by perfectly mascaraed eyelashes, she had eyes that were large, round and of such a flat dark green color they were often mistaken for black, or more realistically brown, from a distance.

Her perfectly shaped lips curved into a smug smile. "'Morning Clove," she said lightly.

Clove only shot her a scowl in response. She couldn't wait to cut that mouth clear off her face.

Her district partner Marvel stood beside her with his arms crossed. As usual his smooth face looked entirely indifferent. Like Glimmer, he had blonde hair that swept across his head in artful waves, high cheekbones, and a narrow face. His long nose was almost always tilted up as if he couldn't bear to breathe the air of the lesser people around him. He was almost as tall as Cato only nowhere near as built- but this was obviously due to nature. Like District Two, District One trained their prospective tributes from a young age and chooses each year which ones get to participate in the games.

Of the pair, Marvel was by far the bigger threat. He had an unprecedented skill with weapons, especially when it came to spears. Even Cato who was good at wielding nearly everything couldn't hurl a spear through a target like Marvel could. Glimmer would still be competition- Clove had once watched her arch her back with all the lithe and grace of a dancer, only to slice a dummy in two places at once with a duel sword. But even still she had nothing on her haughty partner.

Marvel's cool blue eyes flicked to one of the hands placed firmly at Clove's side, taking in the bandages wrapped around her wrists. This was a late reminder that she had forgotten to take them off.

"We were just waiting for you," he said.

Now having perfected her hair, Glimmer peered around Clove as if she had been hiding something behind her back. "Where is Cato?" she asked.

On cue the elevator opened revealing none other than the asshole himself, and from the look on his face he was more pissed off than usual. Clove wondered if her mentor had chewed him out.

Glimmer was the last to turn her head to acknowledge Cato. But Clove hadn't missed the way she ran her hands carefully over the smooth spandex covering her thighs, then across her perfectly shaped behind before resting them on her exposed hips. Cato he hadn't missed this ether. He stood in the elevator for just a moment more, eyeing her body.

"Good Morning Cato," she said with indifference, but once she had turned away from him a smirk crept onto her face.

Marvel just nodded to him and sighed, "And that leaves two more. They are always late."

Cato completed their circle, standing slightly closer to Glimmer than he did Marvel, Clove couldn't help but notice. But his eyes had now zeroed in on Clove's bandages. And then he started smiling.

Of course.

"Heal up okay?" he asked.

Clove wanted to punch him. But instead she satisfied herself with replaying his doubled over form from last night after she had kicked him square in the group of organs that as a female, she would never have to worry about.

"Sure did, how 'bout you?" she said.

His nostrils flared slightly but the smile was still pinned to his face. "Fine. Though, I didn't need to be escorted down to the medics this morning because of my injury."

With the sweetest, girlish grin she could muster she said, "Not yet, at least."

Then the elevator opened to reveal the District Four tributes. They were both tall and tan, with extremely long torsos and muscular legs from a life of swimming. The boy almost looked like a fish the way his wide brown eyes were set a far distance from each other on his face. Even the sides of his squared-off cheeks would dimple in such an odd way when he spoke that he seemed to have gills. Clove was always forgetting his name though, so she referred to him as Fish Head. The girl had long locks of frizzy curls the color of sand that ran down her sun-darkened back. Clove remembered that her name was Marina because she often caught the girl watching her with caution in her sky blue eyes. The little sea slug feared her. And Clove loved it.

When they all entered the training center as a group, Glimmer trotted beside Clove.

"So, what did happen to your wrists?" she taunted, thoroughly enjoying herself.

Clove was quick to respond with something she was sure would piss her off.

"Well it was last night and gosh... I just really shouldn't say. Our mentor was so mad when he caught us though," she said, adding in a perfectly played giggle. "Cato really does work wonders with those hands of his."

The message was already clear but for fun Clove raised her hands together over her head as if someone had been holding them there. The reaction on Glimmer's face was immediate. Her arched eyebrows lowered and her lips parted in an expression that was shocked if not revolted. As Clove quickened her pace away from Glimmer, she was sure she could still feel a pair of emerald eyes on her back.


The professional trainer managing the knife throwing station decided to kick things up a notch when Clove stepped up- after two days of training she had become his favorite.

The dummies began to automatically move from side to side, front to back. The trainer approached her with a case filled to the brim with knives of all kinds. Unlike what she had nearly stabbed Cato with last night, these were meant specifically for people, not food. She picked up the first one with delicacy as if haste would break it. That was quite a joke though. This knife was remarkable in its design – with thick leather handles and a blade that had never been touched.

With the power and precision gained from of years of skill, she launched the first knife directly into the center bullet point of the dummy's head farthest from her. She always liked to put faces to each of her dummies- that one had been the girl from Four. Next up was the boy from Six. With a little more aggression this time, she threw the knife at her second target.

Once again, she did not miss. The weapon made a clear beeline into the dummy's eye.

Four, dead. Six, dead. Who was next? She turned to the training center and scanned over the tributes wandering from station to station, looking for an interesting candidate. Then her eyes rested on the back of a head whose sheet of dark hair was in its usual braid. The smile already on her face turned wicked.

Yes, she would be perfect. The Girl on Fire.

Clove selected a fine knife this time, only the best for the dear little coal miner. This one was heavier, posing more of a challenge. The dummy that moved from side to side closest to her, therefore going the fastest, suddenly had olive skin and a pair of wise gray eyes. With a slight grunt she hurled the knife and it landed right where she had intended it to go.

Directly into the heart.

What was the girl's name again?

Katniss.

The trainer's claps pulled her back into the training center. She ignored him, suddenly in a rotten mood at the realization that this was only training and those were only dummies. A great emptiness took over her as it so often did. She was so focused on trying to feel something that she had hardly noticed Cato before stumbling into him.

"Watch it!" she hissed, even though it was her who walked into him.

"Sorry," he lied. Then with a jerk of his head in the direction of where Marvel and the District Fours stood a few stations over, he added, "We're needed."

When they approached Marvel, his deep blue orbs were fixed on something across the training center. It didn't take Clove a long time of searching to find what he was looking at- it was a boy who could be accurately described as a massive ship among a sea of nothings.

He was training alone at his station, his monstrous brown arms carrying an axe who's blade must have been the size of Clove's entire torso. The way he lumbered with it made him look as if he were a mountain giant that had stepped right out of one of the limited fairytales she had heard as a child. Just like these giants, his determined face might as well have been stained with the blood of small children as he focused on his future dummy-opponent with haunting gold eyes.

Then, as if the axe had been weightless, he swung it around his body and sliced the body of the dummy in a vertical line starting right at the head. It was perfection that could usually only be obtained from years of training. Only this boy had no training, at least not from what she could assume about his District. Eleven was one of the poorest districts in all of Panem.

This stunt must have sold Marvel.

"We could defiantly use him," he nodded. From the way he said it, he might as well have been agreeing over the final price of a diamond or one of the other fineries his district produced.

"But of course," he added with a sigh, "This isn't all my decision."

His face was distant again as he turned to Cato. Though it had been unspoken, Cato was promoted leader of the group. After all, he was the most powerful, the most aggressive and the most unstable. It was as if he had obtained Godly status among them and one wrong move that pissed him off would result in any of their ends. Though, Marvel seemed to challenge this the most. Clove assumed that was probably because throughout his life he never had to respond to anyone.

Cato watched the Eleven boy through narrow eyes. "He's going to say no," he said with surprising insightfulness.

"To us?" Marvel said with amusement. "Seems highly unlikely."

"He's from Eleven," Cato said. "They don't take kindly to Districts whose citizens aren't coated in dirt."

The District Fours were both still staring at the boy with wide eyes, clearly agreeing with Marvel. But no one wanted to oppose Cato.

Realizing he might lose this, Marvel looked over his shoulder to Glimmer who stood with a loaded bow in her hands at the station nearest them.

"Glimmer!" he barked. "Get over here!"

The distraction of hearing her name called in such a disrespectful manner caused the trajectory of her arrow to almost miss the target all together. Her green eyes narrowed at him but she still turned around and forcibly shoved the bow into the hands of the trainer. Then she stomped over to them.

"Look," he said as she approached, nodding at Eleven. He was now lumbering away from the axes to of all things, the edible plants station. But then Clove saw the reason why.

The little girl from his district was waving him over frantically with an expression of happiness on her young face.

Glimmer twisted her mouth to the side in thought, looking like a rabbit as it chewed down grass. Then her eyebrows rose.

"He would be an asset," she said.

The still silent District Fours both nodded in approval as well. Then they all turned to Clove.

An ominous cloud seemed to follow the grisly tribute wherever he went. Clove could almost see it as she watched him. It didn't make sense; Cato was just as large as he was, maybe even bigger. And yet even upon first meeting Cato she didn't get the same feeling she got from just observation of this massive creature at a distance. It was a feeling that told her she didn't want him on her team. As a matter of fact, the farther away she stayed from him in the games, the better.

It was so uncharacteristic of her, and even she knew this. But there was no denying it – Clove was afraid of the boy from Eleven.

"No," she said. "The faster we kill him, the better."

"Over ruled," Marvel said with finality, though his eyes flicked to Cato. Only Cato wasn't looking at Marvel, he was looking at Clove.

That was all the permission Marvel needed.

Just as Cato had become the unspoken leader of the group, Marvel had become the designated spokesman- the smooth negotiator. He was the poster boy of the Careers this year.

Though, the tribute from District One was a man of many faces.

When around Clove and the rest of their pack, he was often turned off and expressionless. When performing for the Capitol, he was charismatic and sociable, knowing just how to play for the crowds. When strutting about the other tributes, he was smug and terrifying in his own right- with his cool blue eyes and exceptional skill in handling spears.

But as he approached the boy from Eleven, the face he chose to wear was his usual: cold and indifferent.

Cato followed close behind him and Clove decided it would only make sense for her to go with him. They were the District Twos – the real intimidation factors. But as every step took her closer and closer to Eleven, she felt anything but intimidating.

At the sight of them, Eleven made a motion to the little girl who perched behind him. It came as a surprise when Clove noticed that this girl eyed them with more bravery than did some of the tributes that were twice her size. She didn't move until Eleven shooed her away again.

For some reason a question exited Clove's lips without any real thought behind it.

"What's his name?" she whispered to Cato.

Cato wasn't facing her; all his focus was on Eleven. But he answered anyway.

"Thresh."

Thresh.

Putting a name to the face made her feel little better. It was proof that this creature was at the very least a human. But it didn't ease her nerves as Thresh moved his limbs to meet Marvel half way. And it certainly didn't ease her nerves when she was able to see Thresh's face and more specifically his eyes up close. His countenance was as hard as a rock. He really was like a giant. A giant that would probably reach across and rip the long-bodied Marvel clear in half. What was even happening? She couldn't be sure. But Marvel must have offered him the invitation into their exclusive group because now Thresh was opening his mouth to speak.

"No," he said, his voice rumbling like thunder.

Marvel looked as if he hadn't understood. "No?" he repeated.

"No."

Marvel tilted his head to the side and a bemused smile pulled up his lips as if the massive boy had told a good joke.

"You are turning down us," he chuckled. "Well, to each his own I suppose."

Clove wanted to turn around and leave right then and there but Cato piped up.

"Bad mistake," he said. There was a dark smile spread across his face but his voice was bordering a snarl.

In that moment Cato looked absolutely menacing. But Thresh needed no such animation, he stayed absolutely still and the effect was the same. Both their unusual sets of eyes glared into each other, creating a mutual agreement that needed no words: sometime after that cannon sounded, signaling the start of the games, it would be one of them who would kill the other. Then without warning those golden eyes flicked to Clove.

Instantly she was overcome by the desire to run. But instead, in defiance she planted her feet firmly to the ground and arched her back. He would not know that she was terrified of him. And in all reality, what was there really to be terrified of? He was human. Her knives would take him down just as easily as they would his little District partner.

But for some reason when she tried to picture her weapons of choice maiming him, her mind's eye only showed her a vision of him pulling them out from his body as if they had been nothing more than irritating splinters. It was much easier to imagine his brute force over powering her, the same way Cato's had the night before. Only much worse.

Despite her momentary bravery, when Thresh broke his eyes away from hers, she found herself backing away into Cato. This was just a small motion that was substituting for shielding herself behind him completely.

Against her body, his chest felt hard but it was radiating heat. And her small figure fit into his in the same jagged but perfect way two pieces of stone can still fit back together after freshly being cut. A wisp of his breath blew against the stray hairs sticking out of her braids. His heart beat maybe three times behind her head. For the moment, her nerves were put at ease.

Then she realized what she was doing.

Instantly she snapped away from him. Why did that just happen?

At first she wasn't going to look at him, expecting to see a sneer or maybe hear the classic question they always seemed to be asking each other: "Are you scared?" But when curiosity won over, the expression she saw him display was entirely uncharacteristic; he was eyeing her with inquisitiveness and seemed… confused. As if she had been a difficult puzzle he couldn't seem to place together. There was not even a hint of sarcasm on his face. She had never seen him look so genuine.

When Marvel strode past them, she was still questioning Cato and her own sanity. But that had been the signal to return back to the group.

The negotiation was over, their request had been denied.

Though Clove was sure Cato was right when he told Thresh that his decision was a mistake.


Marvel was still carrying on about District Eleven as they all sat down in the dining hall across from the training center.

"He must have been dull. Honestly I don't understand these provincials," he said, motioning with a hand to the majority of the room. A few of the tributes sitting near them looked up briefly at the gesture, and then went back to plaintively eating their food.

Cato's harsh laughter painfully reverberated in Clove's ears. Did he really feel the need to constantly be so obnoxious?

"Does it matter?" Cato said, and then added in a lower octave, "He'll be a fun one to kill."

Kill. The word hung in the air for a moment and brought with it a blanket of intensity that fell around all of them. Clove's posture straightened.

"Maybe for you."

It was the airy voice of Marina that broke the sudden silence. Her features hardened as she continued, "But the rest of us aren't six foot something and built like a wall."

It wasn't a complement. Her words were full of resentment. Clove could feel own her eyes narrowing as she analyzed the girl who now kept her head down, only looking at the strange bread on her plate with bitterness. The bread was dotted with green seaweed.

Just that morning, in a display even Clove couldn't deny was alluringly deadly, this same girl had, in one fluid motion, hurled a harpoon into a dummy twenty feet away then with one swift pull had it within range to forcibly slice across its neck with a knife.

But now she as she bit into her lip and kept glassy eyes on her plate, she was undeniably pathetic.

This display of weakness seemed unforgivable. Perhaps she belonged with the other tributes who sat at their own tables with similar expressions bestowed upon their faces; pity, bitterness, defeat. Marvel must have thought the same thing, because for a moment Clove met his blue eyes across the table in what she believed to be an understanding.

Do they keep her?

What they were- Cato, Glimmer, Marvel, Marina, Fish Head and herself – was a temporary alliance of which membership required an agreement to not kill each other until the rest of the competition had been eliminated. This was something Clove never forgot. She refused to show any display of emotion around these people or leave herself vulnerable in their presence for even a minute. Because when it came down to just them, which surely it would, that was when the real show would begin.

The most brutal finales were always between Districts One, Two and Four. Sometimes these show-downs were so entertaining the Game Makers didn't even have to throw weather catastrophes or mutations into the mix. She recalled one year when directly after the last lesser tribute had been slaughtered, the remaining six had it out right there over the body and a victor was declared literally less than fifteen minutes later. That was how long it took for them to turn on one another.

And this year she knew would be no different.

Truthfully, the group of them hardly liked each other. They put on a good façade around the other tributes for intimidation purposes. But despite friendly faces and playful taps, almost all conversation- especially between Marvel, Glimmer, Cato and Clove- was carefully calculated, and most statements made had an underlying meaning behind them. The tension between all of them was almost always high and Clove couldn't imagine it going anywhere but up once they stepped foot onto that arena.

She wondered what their final show down would be. Who would be left? Because if Marina or Fish Head were still around, they would surely be killed first. But then who? Would Marvel perhaps turn and try to spear Cato who was the physically largest threat? Or perhaps Glimmer would pull something sneaky- like disappearing for some time until only one of them was still standing and then come back with an unexpected attack? Or would Cato very simply finish them all off before anyone really got to do much of anything?

Clove realized that if it were to come down to it, it would most likely be none of the above.

She would be the one to attack first.

It would be so easy and fast to catch each of them with a knife to the throat. But that wouldn't be very fun would it? These would be the last kills of her life after all- even if she weren't to die in the arena. She would have to make them worthwhile. Who would she leave for last? Glimmer perhaps? Her face wouldn't be so pretty anymore if Clove were to take her knife to it. Or how about Marvel? What would he do if she had somehow managed to pin him down beneath her- so far below from where he usually sat up on that high horse of his?

Then her mind trailed to Cato. He would be the biggest challenge. With both their weapons it would be the fight of a lifetime. He may have had his brute strength and power but she had her agility and skill. A sword wouldn't be hard to dodge- nether would a spear. But he would have some trouble. She was never one to miss a moving target.

His dusty gold head was tilted ever so slightly and his mouth was tugging into the tiniest of sneers while his blank eyes dug into Marina. He was thinking about slaying her, Clove could see it in the stillness of his body.

Oh, what a perfect pair they were, the tributes of District Two.

Maybe she didn't trust Brutus, but his suggested order of operations was right. Eliminate the competition, eliminate District One, and then save each other for last. Besides, even when a tribute dies during the games, they still get a ranking. So wouldn't it only be considered fair to her district if first and second place were occupied by its two and only tributes?

"Well," Marvel's deep voice sheared through the stillness. The glass he raised to his mouth didn't completely conceal his smile. "You never really know what surprises you'll find in the arena."


Can't wait to hear all your thoughts on this chapter! I hope I'm not disappointing anyone. I know it was super long. The rough draft was even longer but I had to condense it -_-

I want to hear your thoughts on this chapter! What did you think of Marvel and Glimmer? Even though I hated this chapter I actually had a lot of fun introducing the too-good-for-you pair. I mean they're gonna have pretty big parts in this story- they are the Careers after all! Also whatever could Lyme be doing with her late nights? Hmmmmm. P.S. Hurray for foreshadowing! ;) I love writing about Thresh so much. He's such a great character! I wish we could have seen more of him in HG.

Anywhooo I'm super pumped about the next chapter. Private Sessions, scores, and interviews are all coming up… and a few surprises too ;) Please let me know what you liked/didn't like/want to see/ect.