Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games

"Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word."

― George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones

Chapter 4

Three years ago…

He didn't know what was happening. Only that it was happening to him. Because it hurt.

Everything seemed to hurt.

Blearily he could hear some background sounds. Of footsteps and people scurrying around. Disjointed voices that penetrated the fog of pain that shrouds his consciousness.

"Don't lose him!" Someone said desperately. A man. An old man judging by the raspy quality of the voice. The others tried to reassure him, saying weird words and techno babble.

The old man shushed them and told them to simply focus on working on his form.

Before losing consciousness completely, he heard a shocking statement from the same man. "That's my grandson, you will heal him"

Cato would rise up and back down again into awareness. He could see white. Everything was white, from the walls and the bed sheets that he's currently lying on. But before long, they would lift him up and transfer him someplace.

A place that feels comfortable and tender. Cato never really got to see it because they always injected him with something prior to the procedure.

Sometimes he would see the old man's form sitting near his hospital bed, keeping vigil. No one has ever done that for him.

Aside from his silent vigil during nights, the old man also liked to talk incessantly. His name's 'Nico' and said that I could call him Gramps, though or 'N,' whatever moniker that I was comfortable with.

"Your name is Cato and you're my daughter's son" 'N' said softly. Cato scoffed to himself, he's never known his mother much less her father. Cato's father told him early on that his mother was a whore who paraded herself in front of other men.

Father said she was selfish but that she died during childbirth.

Oddly enough, Father also hated him because his eyes and hair color were similar to those of his mother's. He said that his coloring was weak, just like his mother.

In the academy, no one really talked about family and father only visited during evaluation days, not family days. This was the main reason why he strived hard to impress so that his father would stay that extra hour to watch him spar with the older kids.

To make him proud.

"No, you're not" Cato whispered painfully, his throat still dry from the medicines administered to him.

The old man jumped up from his seat and leaned eagerly toward his form.

"Who are you?" He asked incredulously. Looking alarmed at the affection and surge of emotions reflected in the old man's eyes.

The old man named 'N' leaned closer to him and gently smoothed his hair back. "I'm your grandfather, Cato"

At that statement, Cato struggled hard to get up. "And I told you that you're not" He leaned his arms painfully back and looked directly at the man "I don't know who you are but stop pretending. My mother died years ago… and none from her family ever went to her funeral"

After finishing that, the man's eyes turned dark with suppressed hurt "Your mother already passed away, Cato?" The man asked, his bottom lip starting to quiver. The arms leaning on the hospital bed also vibrating.

"Yes" He said straight "She died giving birth to me" Cato scooted back and leaned heavily on the headboard. Looking down at his form, he grimaced. Cato was covered in different bandages with almost seven tubes stuck to his arms and chest. "What happened to me?"

The man remained silent. Looking over him, he could see some tears escaping his eyes. "Hey!" He exclaimed, trying to get the man's attention, "what happened to me?"

'N' wiped the tears and looked at Cato sadly "I'm sorry about your loss, son"

Cato shrugged in response "Didn't really know her, besides Father said she hated me… always talking about aborting me during her pregnancy"

He was surprised when his arm was gripped tightly by the old man. "Never say that! Your mother would've loved you and I'm sure she did love you. Loved you very much while she was carrying you"

"How would you know?" Cato asked sullenly and more than a bit confused.

"I told you… I'm your grandfather. Your mother… your late mother" He choked on the word "was my daughter"

"What? Is this some kind of a joke?" He asked sputtering.

"No, no joke. We checked Cato, but even without that biological test, those eyes could only belong to this family" The man leaned towards him once again. Placing one hand on his shoulders "The probability that you're my grandson is 98.7 percent"

After uttering the number, Cato smiled widely and then laughed. He laughed so hard that his voice grew hoarse and tear tracks trailed down his cheeks.

"Cato…" N worriedly looked at him "I know that this might come as a shock…"

"What?" He replied, still grinning insanely "what's more ridiculous than you saying that I'm a Capitolite?"

"But you are! Or you're half Capitolite… your mother, my daughter" he clarified, still trembling "was from the Capitol"

"Is that so? Then why would she lower herself to a District 2 male? District 2 are basically considered as dogs by the Capitol" he spat venomously.

"She didn't go willingly… my daughter… was kidnapped. By your father!"

"That's a lie" He shouted in negation.

"No, Cato, I'm sorry to say this to you now but your father… he wasn't good. He wasn't well in the head. True, he was a Victor in his own right but he wasn't well liked by anyone."

"My father brought honor to his District! The Hunger Games simply damaged him a bit… everyone respected him!"

The old man shook his head in sadness "You looked at him through the eyes of a child… putting him in a pedestal but he wasn't Cato…" N's eyes softened and that's when I noticed that he has a lot of lines across his face, unusual given the Capitol's predilection for cosmetic surgery.

"You don't know him" Cato declared with finality.

"But I do… when I watched this year's reaping, I knew instantly that you're my grandson. I went to District Two at once to see your father… I pleaded to that man to give me back my daughter…he refused. The Peacekeepers got involved. He's in prison now Cato"

"What!" He surged up in indignation. This man jailed his father. "What do you mean?"

"Kidnapping is punishable by death normally, be glad that he still has his Victor status" N spat, clearly frustrated now with his grandson's continued show loyalty. "And rape, more so"

Cato retaliated after that, pushing the man away from him "Get out"

"Cato…" N uttered, mollified and slightly sad on their first meeting.

"I said get out!" He shouted. The old man left albeit reluctantly. Hunched over and clearly in pain at their confrontation.

When the door closed. Cato likewise shut his eyes tightly. The tears now flowing out are from a different cause.

He didn't really know what to think. Cato knew that his father wasn't good. He knew that besides becoming a Victor, he was a waste of space. But that man was still his father.

Bunching up the bed sheets on both sides, he tried to tear it apart in agitation. What the old man was saying had to be a lie.

…

The next morning, the man called N returned carrying a tablet. He again situated himself beside Cato's hospital bed. "We got off at a rough start" N whispered gently "I'm sorry, son"

"Stop calling me that." Cato muttered angrily.

"But you are, Cato. You're my grandson… and I love you"

"What the fuck!?" He replied incredulously, wondering whether this man was crazy.

"When I saw you volunteering, I almost collapsed" N continued ignoring his grandson's crude language "I wanted to stop it but Snow insisted. He told me that he'd make sure that you'll win"

"Well, I didn't or didn't you see me swan dive off the Cornucopia?"

"Yes, yes I did" N said showing him the tablet "I tried to get as fast to you as I can. When the shuttle picked you up. I bribed the Peacekeepers into giving up your corpse to me"

Cato looked at him expressionlessly.

"I thought that I was going to bury my last remaining link…" He whispered brokenly. "But then you started breathing… it was weak but still there… we were able to revive you"

"How?" He was now curious. Cato knew the wounds inflicted onto him would've killed a smaller man instantly so it still surprised him that he survived.

"Technology. We own the largest pharmaceutical corporation along with many other research and development-heavy factories… I put my best scientists to work" N said excitedly. "And it worked! We placed you in a chamber and induced you under a mild coma-like state… but shortly after, the rebellion started"

"Whoa! Wait a minute, what do you mean rebellion?"

The old man smiled "Oh! The mockingjay. Your Girl On Fire along with several other Victors joined the rebellion. District 13 rose up once again"

"Wait wait wait. Didn't the Capitol destroy District 13?"

"Yes, we did and also District 12"

"You bombed District 12?" Cato asked incredulously "Are you guys stupid?" By flattening District 12, the rebellion garnered more support from the rest of the Districts.

"I know, I know… tried to tell Snow that it was stupid but the man wouldn't listen"

"Wait, rewind. All of these aren't possible. It's only been what? A week or two since the Hunger Games… how could this have happened in such a short time?"

The man squared his shoulders and he knew then that he wouldn't really like the answer. N looked straight at him after fiddling with the tablet on his lap.

Showing it to Cato, N whispered "It hasn't been just a week, Cato… it's been two and half years since the Hunger Games."

And in the tablet, they were showing the Starcrossed Lovers waving towards the crowd but this wasn't the Victory tour because both were dressed in military uniforms. No…

This was the Rebellion's Victory. He could see his vision tunneling and then nothing.

…

It's been two weeks since that meeting. Cato's been getting stronger day by day. And with the frequent visits from N, he was also becoming more and more at ease with the old man.

N was currently updating him on the events that took place during his two-year coma state.

"The liquid that's used to heal your wounds enhances your healing capacity and thus, your physical side… it mainly works in your cerebral. In a way, it's fooling your brain to think that you're healed and as such, it asks the body to work that way"

"So it's that simple? Just tell my brain that I'm okay and I'm healed?" Cato asked, slightly weirded out by the simplistic concept.

"In a nutshell, yes. Though there are plenty of compounds going into that chemical but alas, we don't need the nitty gritty details of it" N announced, slapping his hands over his knees he slowly stood up "There are, however, side-effects during the transition… the doctors say that it could manifest in the form of deeper REM cycle"

"What the hell does that mean?"

"We don't really know as of now, no one has really ever been asleep that deeply. It's almost the sleep of the dead, Cato"

"Sleep of the dead? All I remember was…" He hesitated in saying the feeling but he felt loved and tenderness in those deep rests.

"What, son?"

"Nothing… just nothing" A girl… I remember a girl.

"Well, you'll still need to frequent the chamber but don't worry, the Doctors said that you're on your way to a full recovery by the end of this year" The old man assured him, placing a hand over his head, the man ruffled his hair as you'd do a child.

Cato glared at him for this gesture. N simply smiled and once again left him to his thoughts.

…

By the end of the month, Cato was getting antsy. The room looked smaller now, the air felt too constricted and purified and the hospital food sucked!

He never really noticed before but the room he was in didn't really look like a hospital. It was too ornately decorated. Even the bed that he's now lying on was made of a heavy oak that could only have come from District 7. The bed sheets, though colored white had more thread count than the ones provided in the Tribute apartments and the lights were chandelier.

The whole room was coffee-colored and one side spans the wide bay windows. Flooring was made of wood with a large patch of carpet that looked so soft, you could sleep in it while the room had double-doors.

If nothing else, Cato was pretty sure that the old man was filthy rich. He shrugged. Whatever.

Sitting up once again, he tried to stretch out his body, feeling the aches and pains still lingering. Walking carefully toward the bedroom mirror, Cato braced himself for what his reflection would look like. He knew that he was bitten to within an inch of his life by those mongrels, so he was pretty sure that he'd be butt ugly.

So it came as a shock when he saw his clear form bounced back to him. The boy in the mirror looked anything but deformed. He still had his nose, his face was unblemished and no traces of a scar was visible from his neck up. Quickly chucking off his shirt, Cato was surprised that even his upper body was clear of the many scars that he accumulated over the years.

Walking back a bit to further inspect himself as a whole, he noticed that he did lose some weight. No longer the overly bulky teenager, he reverted back to his original mass prior to his preparation for the Hunger Games.

Turning around the room, he noticed that the drawn curtains was actually covering an alcove. Carefully tracing his steps toward the bit of sunlight streaming in, Cato grasped the brass handle and turned it open.

Stepping out, he was surprised by what greeted him. The sunlight was almost blinding but the scene below was even more surreal. Beyond the expansive garden in his grandfather's backyard, Cato could see the smoke rising here and there throughout Panem.

"What the hell?" Even as he uttered that, he could see a fighter jet going past their estate and shooting rounds at one of the Capitol's base camps. "Where the hell am I?" He whispered.

Behind him, he could hear the door being opened. "Cato!" someone exclaimed. Shortly after, he saw a hand pulling him back into the room. "What were you thinking going out there?" N demanded, the lines in his face further deepening.

"I was… it was… I had to see with my own two eyes what was happening"

"It's war, son. Everyone's at war. We're protected because the 'N'corporation is as valuable to the Capitol as it is to the Rebellion but right now, no area is safe"

"What happened to my District?" He inquired, his head looking toward the old man in confusion.

"It…" Pausing yet again, a sure sign that he wasn't gonna like N's answer "after the Capitol flattened District 12, the rebellion went after your District, they bombed them as well"

"What!? How could- I mean, how could the Capitol allow that! Their soldiers are from District 2!"

"Majority of the Peacekeepers were already stationed to different areas and those in training at the academy were also moved to actual barracks in the vicinity of the Capitol… but the residents, the actual residents didn't make it" The old man whispered.

Cato was speechless, everyone was gone. He could still remember Mrs. Tally from the sweet shop always tossing him a candy or two, or One-Eyed Brick who made the best weapons in all of Panem, all the while whistling a jaunty tune. They were gone. All of them.

"What about my father?" He whispered, still hopeful.

"The explosion was dropped in the middle of the District, just a few yards away from the prison…" N started walking toward him "Cato, I know that this feels overwhelming… but you have to believe me… I didn't know that the Rebellion will retaliate in that way"

Holding up one hand to stop the excuses, Cato stared at N closely and sighed in defeat "Don't bother… besides, what could you have done"

N looked hopeful now, ecstatic even at Cato's stand on the issue. Nonetheless, he asked to be left alone.

It took Cato another month to process everything. Right now, he didn't even know whether to feel relieved that he was asleep during these events or to feel angry at being on the sidelines. He wanted to fight. He needed to.

As such, he took out his frustrations on the furniture within the room. Gaining enough strength this past month, he was able to throw a well-deserved tantrum at last.

The avoxes didn't know what to make of him. And N was speechless at seeing the 'brute boy' from District 2 in his element.

"What's wrong, Cato!?" N demanded, trying to stop him from breaking another glass.

"Everything! I should've died there or at the very least been in my District during these past months! I could've helped!"

N was shaking his head in negation. "You couldn't have done anything, son, this was the time of the Rebellion. The Districts are tired and angry at Snow's games. You in the forefront wouldn't have made anything different!"

"What do you mean? I could've been there… been there…" Cato stopped midsentence "been there when they perished." He was surprised at the old man's slap.

"Don't ever say that!" N snarled and at this moment, Cato could now see their resemblance "You're my family and you'll survive this and many more"

"Then what am I now?" Feeling at a lost, he started walking to one of the armchairs that still remained upright in the room "the games are over, I'm not a Victor, and my home is gone… what am I to do now?"

N straightened then to his full height, which almost reached Cato's imposing figure, he placed a hand on his shoulder and announced the three words that will change his life from here on out "Be my heir."

…

That was four months ago. Now, Cato's desk was filled to the edge with books on finance, business, negotiations, and diplomacy. And this was only the tip of his education. Sociology and influencing was also a core in this crash course.

Leaning back, he sighed tiredly rubbing the cobwebs from his eyes. In the corner, an avox came forward to offer him a hot beverage. He smiled in appreciation.

That was one of the first things that needed to be imbedded into his brain and actions. N valued kindness and equal exchange, quid pro quo.

You'll get what you give.

N conglomerate spans different areas. They're the research and development in pharmaceuticals, the testing experiments of armaments, logging business in District 7, commodity trading between Districts, specifically, agriculture, and lastly, technical division in technologies and transportation.

The list went on but it also filled Cato with a weird sense of importance. Having a hold of all these companies meant power. Power that can be wielded easily if you're the Heir.

N entered his room quietly, looking over his shoulder at the notes scattered on his desk. "Well, that's certainly a different look on things"

Turning around, he frowned at his grandfather, "What do you mean?"

"You're suggesting that the Districts be combined in that model" N clarified, tapping the paper that he's been doodling at for the past hour.

"What? Oh! This?" He waved the piece of paper nonchalantly. "It's nothing, just some crazy ideas…" As he was about to crumple it, his grandfather stopped him.

"No, don't. Having a big eye view at things is better than focusing too much on the small things… that's what drives corporations to succeed—their vision… so never underestimate it. Keep this paper close, Cato, I really think you have something there"

He was a bit uncomfortable with the look the old man was giving him. N looked like the proudest father in the world. Looking at him as if he's solved the formula for life and death.

"Okay."

Smiling down at him, N nudged him up and reminded him of his treatments.

Cato went reluctantly. For the past few weeks, the image of the girl was becoming more and more evident. She was dark-haired, of that he was sure and she's also in pain. A lot of it.

At first, he ignored the figure but after a while, he started talking to her. Asking her what was wrong. Comforting her.

It was so weird. It's like he has an imaginary relationship with the girl.

So when the fluid filled the 'cocoon,' instead of dread, he was feeling anticipation.

…

The violet tinge from the substance slowly dissipated from his eyes and he could see clearer now. She was there again. Walking tentatively over to the hunched figure, he crouched down silently and placed a comforting arm over her quivering shoulders.

"Hey…" He whispered.

A sniffle was the response.

"What's wrong now?"

She leaned back and breathed deeply. A gesture that he's very familiar with because he does it as well. It means that she's trying to keep it all in.

So he learned another thing about her.

She's dark-haired.

And she's strong.

"It was nothing" She replied and her voice felt like a caress to him.

She also has a nice voice.

Three things…

"I don't think so… people don't just break down crying, you know" And he's sure of it. If this girl is crying, then it has to be pretty serious.

Though Cato couldn't see her face, he knew that she was assessing him just as carefully.

"Since I don't really know you and you don't really know me… maybe it's okay"

"What?" he asked in confusion. Stepping closer to her figure.

"I mean that since we don't know each other, it's okay to consult, right? It's not like I'll see you in the real world or something" she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I guess so…"

She nodded in approval and after a long pause wherein Cato thinks that she's gathering courage to confess, "I'm crying because I lost my family"

"What?" This surprised him "Are you from District 2?"

"What!? No! I'm from District 12"

He retreated for a bit in disgust before reigning in his prejudiced side. "You lost your family because of the Capitol?"

"Yes" Her shoulders slumped then, it seems as if her whole silhouette also turned grayer in response.

"I'm sorry." He paused, trying to decide on whether to confide in her as well "I lost mine too"

She was clearly surprised because even though he couldn't see her eyes, her whole form jerked up "Are you also from District 12?" she asked suspiciously.

"No. I'm from District 2"

"You're a capitol dog!"

He shrugged, what else is new. "Yes, but I guess you people know how to get rid of dogs, don't you?" He asked sarcastically. "You should be really proud of yourselves, too bad that you only killed civilians, though"

"I never wanted them to do that… bomb another District. The Rebellion was under Coin then and she just wanted revenge"

That statement confused Cato. How could this girl throw in a name as important as Coin so casually. She must be in the upper hierarchy of the Rebellion.

"My mother and little sister died in the District" She whispered brokenly. "That wasn't supposed to happen… I tried…" she stopped for a bit to regain her bearings "… I tried so fucking hard to keep them safe!"

Walking closer to her "I just wanted them safe!" She screamed that last part.

"I'm sorry" Cato once again wrapped an arm around her. "I'm really sorry"

"It wasn't your fault. It was mine. I got too into the Capitol and into the Rebellion. I forgot! I forgot what I was fighting for! I forgot what's important" Finishing that heartbreaking statement, she broke down.

After stroking her back gently for ten minutes, Cato nudged her again "I was Career you know?"

"What?" She asked hoarsely.

"I was a Career tribute. All I knew was how to fight. I was trained to be a weapon for the Capitol… to be a Victor. But on hindsight, I kind of realized how stupid I must've been"

"Why?" A hiccup.

"Because it didn't matter. Those things didn't matter. The Peacekeepers almost committed mass suicide after they bombed my District because in the end, the people that we were fighting for, that ones were trying to protect are all gone"

"This war is stupid" She whispered in agreement.

"You're right because in the end, the ones that we were trying to protect became the victims"

She nodded again. "No reason"

"None anymore… but you know what? I met my grandfather."

"I thought you said that your family died?" She said somewhat accusingly.

"Not him. It turns out that my father hid my existence from my mother's side of the family" That was the understatement of the year. "He's training me now"

"To be what?"

"To be good"

"That's a pretty tall order to give to a former Career"

"I know, right? But he really sees me in a different light. You should have someone like that in your life too"

"I do! I have a… ummm… I'm engaged" She said, holding up her hand and that's when Cato noticed the modest ring displayed on her left hand. He didn't know why but upon seeing it, he felt a pang in his chest.

"Well, that answers that. If for nothing else, you could live for him"

"But how? When I can't even move on" Her voice slowly trailed off.

"It takes more time and not enough time…It's weird really. For a few weeks, I looked like a zombie upon learning of their death but then one day, it just clicked"

"Clicked?"

"That I have to live on… for them"

"Well, that's a whole lot of philosophical bullshit"

"Hey!"

"What? It's true." After awhile of glaring at each other, we burst out laughing. And even though the two of us are just blurred forms to the other, we found relief in our shared feelings of remorse.

Unable to stop himself, Cato asked "Who are you?"

She stopped laughing then and after a while, she answered "I think it's better if we don't know each other"

"What?" Cato asked incredulously, leaning back from her.

"I don't know you and you don't know me, it should stay that way. I think its better that way. Names shouldn't be important" She whispered as if from experience.

Before he could rebut that statement, Cato started to feel lightheaded—a sign that he's about to wake up. But before returning to the real world, he muttered "This isn't over yet"

And her silent reply was enough to encourage him "I hope not"

…

End of Chapter 4