The rest of the afternoon is a slight blur. I remember taking some time at the weapons station finding that I was useless when it came to anything heavy. Knives weren't too bad, but it was nothing compared to the girl from Two. I had to convince myself to simply wait until my private session. Then I'd prove myself with one of those pretty bows. I'd gone through a few other survival stations and simpler training exercises, but I mostly watched everything around me. The other tributes, the Gamemakers, the cameras they had in every corner and wall in the room. I could feel myself over analyzing every aspect, but I tried not to think much of it. Instead my mind drifted to my earlier encounter.

Am I really supposed to meet him? How do I know he's not just going to throw me off the side of the building? My curiosity had been eating at me though. Maybe he'd let me explain myself, and hopefully we'd be on better terms. I snorted. Why does it matter if we're on good terms or not? One of us will be dead, if not both, in the next few weeks.

When they'd finally let us go for dinner, I was out of the room before anyone else, catching Cato's observing eye for a second. I had rushed towards the elevators making sure I didn't have to ride with anyone. Now I'm lying on my bed in the same sprawled position that I was in when I arrived two hours ago. I missed dinner, no doubt. A knock from Peeta, Haymitch, Effie, and even Cinna confirmed that. But I wasn't anywhere near hungry. Instead I fiddle with the little radio for a bit. I'm surprised he doesn't just try and communicate through here to see if I was telling the truth. But would I have answered if I did?

My mind continues to hum, drifting from Prim to Gale to my mother and to everyone I can think of from Twelve. I wish to feel the comfort of home, and as I'm imagining myself in the woods, I slowly drift to sleep.


I wake up shrieking, frantically grasping around for my sister.

"No!" I screamed. "I volunteered! You can't take her away!" Sobs are racking my body, making it harder for me to catch my breath. After a few minutes I manage to slow my gasps and hold back the tears. It's just a dream, I tell myself. It was only a dream.

My eyes flick to the clock sitting next to my bed and it reads 1:42 in the morning. I groan, realizing that I missed meeting Cato on the roof. Half of me is filled with regret, the other half is relieved. Regardless, I decide that I'm going up to the roof anyway in hopes that the air will help clear my head. I unconsciously tuck the radio into the pocket of my pants and leave the flat. Once I reach the top of the building, I discover that somebody else has the same idea.

At first I think it's Peeta because of the shock of blonde hair belonging to the person sitting on the edge, peering out over the Capitol, but then that assumption is crushed when I realize that Peeta is nowhere near as built as this person. So that leaves one other.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," he said without turning. I stay rooted where I am.

"I didn't think you'd still be here." I replied. "I also thought that tonight wouldn't be my night to be thrown off the side of a building."

"Even if I wanted to, it wouldn't work. There's a force field around the whole roof to keep people from jumping." He's looking at me now. "Besides, there are many other ways I could kill you without having to use anything but my hands." I ignore his last comment.

"Jump? Why would they be worried about that?" I press.

"Why wouldn't you jump?" He says softly, enough to surprise me. His voice is full of vulnerability, and it makes me uneasy. Why does everything about him have to make me uneasy?

Somehow my legs take me over to the ledge while he watches me intently, and I decide to sit a few feet away. I slip the radio out of my pocket and lay it on the stone in front of him.

"It looks just like yours, doesn't it?" I ask hopefully.

"Unfortunately." I open my mouth to respond, but immediately shut it for lack of words. I wonder where he was expecting this encounter to go.

"I won't tell, if that's what this was going to be about." A cold laugh escapes him sending shivers down my spine.

"Even if I was, who'd believe you?" He snaps. " 'Oh hey Bread Boy, did you know that the guy from Two is really a pansy?' Please." I frown.

"Because that was definitely my plan from the start." Feeling annoyed now, I grab the radio and get up to leave but his arm has grabbed mine again. I wince. The pressure on the bruises from early make them hurt like hell. He must notice my pain because he automatically lets go and mutters an apology. What?

"Okay, what the hell is going on?" I almost shout. "First you attack me today, leaving some nice bruises on my neck and arms mind you, and now you're apologizing for hurting me again? You've looked like you've wanted to kill me ever since the Tribute Parade. What exactly am I supposed to make of this?

"Look, I never wanted any of this to happen. You're the one who decided to approach me about!" He's shouting now. "How do you think it feels to know that some outer district girl is aware of all your weaknesses, one that you'll be in a fight to the death with? I'm not supposed to be weak! I've been training for this all my life and I'm not going to let you ruin it."

"Has it every occurred to you that maybe I wanted to help?" I snap back. I can't believe I just said that.

"Why would you want to help? I'm not going to fall for some friendly shit only to have my back stabbed." He scowls at me. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

"No, of course not!" I take a breath. What the hell am I doing? Why do I feel such a need to protect him? "I just wanted you to know that you're not alone." I say weakly. His face softens slightly but he still looks enraged.

"You'd never understand," Cato replies. "Not even if you were from District Two." He pauses for a second, like he's debating on whether to continue, but he does. "They would have killed my entire family if I didn't volunteer."

I'm slightly surprised. I feel shameful that I didn't think he'd have family, let alone care so much about them. But I do understand. I understand what's it's like to have to make sacrifices for your family.

"Of course I understand. Why do you think I'm here?" I ask, slightly offended. He seems confused. "I volunteered for my sister at our reaping. I know she'd be dead if I hadn't." Now it's his turn to be astonished.

"Oh," is all he says. I let out a hollow laugh.

"Did you not watch the recaps of all the reapings?" He shakes his head. "Ah."

"It didn't seem important," he says defensively. We're both silent again.

"Well," I begin. "It looks like we're stuck in the same boat." I'm unsure of what to do now. I really just want to leave. "You know, I'm just going to pretend this conversation never happened. We're both going to on with our training and the Games and if one of us wins, great. If not, then that's okay too. It was for our families. Goodbye, Cato." I turn and starting walking back towards the elevator, slightly saddened that he hasn't said anything back. I guess he agrees.

"I don't want to forget the conversation." He calls, and I sigh, halting my step. "I'm not asking to be allies, or friends, or even acquaintances of each other. I just want to have an understanding. I somehow like knowing that there's someone who does." I chew my lip and turn around.

"Fair enough," I respond. "Is that all?" This was getting really too weird for me. Thankfully, he nods and I quickly turn and enter the elevator. Pressing the button labeled twelve, I catch his small, melancholy smile at me before the doors come to a close.


A/N: Wow! I did not expect to get such positive feedback on my idea. Thank you all so much ^.^

Anyways, I don't know how I feel about this scene. Part of me thinks that it didn't meet your expectations, but the Games are where it's all supposed to happen, so just wait!