A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long to write, it took me a lot more time to figure out then I thought it would! I would like to dedicate most of this chapter to EMx2. I'll talk more about it in the end Author's Note so I don't spoil anything, but this chapter is kind of dedicated to an issue I haven't really addressed yet. Please take the time to review this one, I would like to know your thoughts on it even if you aren't 100% sure you agree. Meep, read and enjoy!
Apparently, my current sentiments didn't sit well with my little Avox who immediately jumped up from her position on the bed.
"Cato, shut the fuck up. You're being a little bitch," she yells, jabbing her finger into my chest and forcing me to back into the wall. Shocked, once again by her language, I listen to her rant without interruption. "Yeah, you both might die soon. Someone else might kill her or you may die in a freak accident. You never know. But don't you want to spend your last week with the girl of your dreams?"
I sigh, slightly annoyed that she isn't getting the point.
"Yes, of course I want to be with her. But she doesn't want me. I'm nothing to her, not when she can have Bread Douche."
"But maybe she wants you and not him," Leyla suggests, dropping her finger down to her side, but refusing to back up enough to allow me to move away from the wall.
"Leyla, Katniss Everdeen made it clear today what she thinks of me, and it isn't what I would call 'boyfriend material,'" I say firmly, standing to my fullest height so I can stare her down. My jaw is clenched, and I'm sure I look fierce, but she didn't move in the slightest. If I can't intimidate a thirteen year old, how was I going to survive an eighteen-year-old giant like Thresh?
"She was just hurt because she thought you were just using her in your feud with Peeta," Leyla explains, finally moving away from me so I can sit back on the bed. She plops down next to me at the foot of the bed and looks expectantly at me.
I raise an eyebrow in question, wondering how she knew such info. I was starting to go back to my original idea that all girls were mind readers or had some secret girl code us male specimens didn't know about. Oh god, that would be terrifying.
"When you left, Rue and I followed her onto the roof and talked a bit before I got a page that you were on a rampage," Leyla clarifies while giving me a stern look that essentially said she wasn't impressed with my behavior. Oops.
"What else did she say?" I ask sheepishly, somewhat humiliated by my outburst. It did help me release all my anger though so it couldn't have been too bad of an idea, right? And it's certainly not like the Capitol can't afford to replace all the stuff I broke. It was the least they could do considering the fact they were attempting to condemn me to death.
"Not much really. I gathered that she's not used to boys paying attention to her in any sort of way besides her best friend, and the fact that both you and Peeta have shown interest is a bizarre concept to her. She thinks you're all doing it to give yourself an advantage in the Games. Katniss seems to be a suspicious person by nature," Leyla finishes explaining, but I can't help feeling skeptical. There's no way Katniss revealed all this to the girl whom I was clearly close with. Of course, Katniss didn't know how much of a gossip the little Avox was, but still.
"She told you all this?" I inquire, doubt dripping from my voice.
Leyla chuckles lightly. "Well, not really. Rue did most of the talking while I blended in to the background, and then I kind of put my own two cents into the analysis on her behavior, but that's the gist."
"So, do you think I have a chance?" I ask tentatively, my hopes starting to rise. I knew it was stupid, but this talk was starting to make me feel better. I guess I never really looked at the whole situation from her point of view. I suppose I'd be total suspicious if some chick started to flirt with me all awkwardly, especially if she was my number one enemy in the Games (despite how gorgeous she was). Katniss Everdeen was starting to make more sense now…well, kind of. Girls, on average, were still a huge mystery to me, but I was making some headway now.
"Yeah, Cato, I really think you do," Leyla sighs wistfully, probably lost in one of her weird dreams about attractive boys on stallions, female damsels in distress locked in towers, and castles filled with lots of chocolate. I find myself taken aback, unsure of where that particular dream sequence came from. It must have been from one of the storybooks my sister made me read to her because my own personal fantasies were a tad more violent. With a lot of blood. And a dead baker's son who I stabbed brutally to death with my favorite sword from back home. My daydreams were more realistic and the stuff storybooks should be made from. Obviously.
"You're a good guy," she continues, snapping me out of my peculiar thoughts. These fucking Games were doing weird things to my brain, and they hadn't even started yet. I could only hope that time in the Arena would clear my thoughts. "I know you don't see it, but despite your creepy awkwardness and random violent tendencies, you're kind, caring, smart, good-looking (which I'll never say again), funny, and any girl would be lucky to have you. Katniss will see that, just like Clove, Rue, and I have. And if not…you could always kill her." Leyla chuckles at her last statement, and I toss a pillow at her face, which she easily catches. I knew one thing. No matter what happened, I would never be able to kill Katniss Everdeen.
"Thanks…I think?" I respond, mulling over the next plan of action in my head. If I were to be honest with myself, I have no idea what to do next but I suppose I could pretend as if I did. It'd be nice to think the girls believed I was somewhat capable in the love department.
Ha, who was I kidding? Even I didn't believe it.
"Oh, and she thinks you're hott," Leyla smirks matter-of-factly, but I can't help but scoff.
"There's no way she told you that," I grumble, wishing of course that it were true.
"Well…Rue commented that you were the most attractive tribute, and Katniss just got this dreamy smile on her face and didn't say much," Leyla snickers. "She must be blind, though, if she thinks that."
"I don't know, Leyla," I begin, deciding it was prudent to reveal my latest fear all while ignoring the latest jab at my ridiculously good looks Bitches were just jealous. For a guy who prides himself on being fearless, I was starting to realize I'm most likely lying to myself. "I feel like I don't have enough time to even convince her to like me as a friend, let alone as a romantic interest."
Before Leyla can reply, the door crashes into the wall behind it, and a very pissed looking Clove storms in.
"CATO ALEXANDER HOLLAND, WHAT IN THE FLYING FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?" she roars and I instinctively shrink back, covering my ears with my hands. Well fuck, I wasn't even aware that she knew my middle name. No one has ever used it when addressing me, ever, but I knew sometimes that the middle name was brought out when a person was beyond enraged. I didn't like enraged Clove. She was terrifying enough, as it is when she was calm.
Oh God, what did I do? I quickly go over all the things I could have done to piss her off and came up blank. I didn't throw bugs in her wardrobe like that one time at school. I didn't tell Fugly Baker Boy that she had a crush on his revolting face. And I definitely haven't been able to sabotage her chance at sponsors by telling everyone she sometimes sucks her thumb at night and cries with her teddy bear while watching the sappy romantic "reality" shows that the Capitol airs on TV each week. Therefore, I went with the best answer I could think of and my "go-to" answer in times of crisis.
"Uh, I d-don't know…everything is wrong with me?" I stammer, cringing at my own weakness. I am such a pussy.
"What is this shit about giving up? Are you fucking serious? Please tell me this is a joke?" she continues to yell as she comes closer to me, and I scoot back on the bed. Once again finding myself pressed against a wall today, I begin to wonder if this is the end. Clove has always been one who can control her emotions well, but even when she blows a gasket, the rage was never directed at me. I silently pray she didn't have one of her knives stashed on her person, though I'd probably be more surprised if she didn't.
"How do you-" I begin, despite the fierceness of her glare.
I don't finish my sentence before I realize what must have occurred. Leyla must have paged Clove's Avox at some point when I wasn't looking. Sneaky bitches, always plotting and planning behind my back. I can't bring myself to be mad, though, considering the fact that they are just trying to help me…in their own weird, twisted way. It was somewhat sweet.
"I sent that page like ten minutes ago," Leyla huffs, looking annoyed. She actually yelps when Clove directs her ferocious glare at her. "Oh well, no matter, you're here now, and that's what counts…"
Clove twists to face me again, scowl still planted firmly on her face. She is now officially the most intimidating tribute in the Games this year, at least in my book.
"You don't give up. It's not in your blood. So fucking stop this emo shit you've got going on, grow some balls, and tell her how you fucking feel before I go up there and do it myself," Clove directs roughly, and I feel the need to comply with her demands just so she stops acting so scary. I've never seen her like this, and it's at this point that I truly believe she could win the Games completely on her own without any help from me, sponsors, or other tributes. When she was determined, things fucking got done.
Clove and I rarely talked about each other's death, or even our own for that matter. It was obviously going to happen, but we didn't want to think about how it would occur. The day before Reaping Day, we were both sitting in our room at the Academy when she brought it up.
"Cato?" Clove asks, and I look up from my textbook, surprised by the hesitation in her voice. Clove was never one to be shy about asking me questions…and she asked me some awkward questions. I shudder briefly when I think about our conversation on masturbation. Fucking awkward moments to the max.
"Yeah?" I put the book down, marking my page by folding a section of the page over. I had a feeling this was going to be one of our more "serious" talks. I just hoped it wasn't an uncomfortable topic like sex or pregnancy. I'd force her to see the Academy guidance counselor if need be so I didn't have to explain anything.
"Do you ever think about life after the Games?" she whispers, and I strain to hear her. It's as if she was scared that someone would overhear us. Perhaps Clove didn't want anyone else to hear her sounding weak. Or maybe she was going to tell me some deep, dark secret she hadn't told me over the years. Or maybe she had decided to live her years after becoming Victor as a prostitute to the Capitol citizens. I stop my analysis of her behavior and conclude that there is no explanation needed because Clove just does whatever the fuck she wants. Way less thinking to do if I accept this answer as the complete and utter truth.
"Of course, Clove, don't you?" I say as I begin to dream of all the ways my life will be better after I become Victor. "I think about how nice it is to be financially stable and to be able to buy whatever I want, whenever I want. There will be no one telling me what to do, when to do it, or how I should live my life. I think of how people will finally treat me like the celebrity I was born to be, and I will eventually get to bestow my wisdom on other tributes. It's going to be great."
"Yeah, I think of that, too. But then I remember that you won't be there with me to enjoy it, and it doesn't seem so great anymore…"
She trails off, and I immediately feel guilty that I never thought of the post-Game life like that. Well, to be honest, I started to sometimes, but I then pushed those thoughts away because they hurt too much to think about.
In District 2, you didn't get close to people. It was stupid, because if chosen to volunteer together, you'd be forced to either kill the other or watch them die. And even if you didn't volunteer at the same time as your "friend", then you had a large possibility of watching them die on TV while you sat in the comfort of your dorm room. There was too much emotional liability in friendship, so it was something the Academy frowned upon. Yes, it was encouraged to have allies, but we were told to keep our emotions out of it. I failed in this regard when it came to Clove. Epically.
However, at the same time, I never expected Clove and I to be chosen to volunteer for the same Games. She was three years younger than I was, so why would we be Reaped together? It was a far-fetched idea, but the Academy must have decided to make an example out of us. "Don't become overly friendly with your classmates," they said. "Don't let emotions cloud your judgment," they said. What did we do? Everything they said we shouldn't. I'm sure they're hoping we are the final two. The big, monstrous boy from District 2 and the little girl who pretty much became his other sister before his own sister died. It would be the perfect lesson to all remaining students at the Academy. Can you kill your best friend in order to become Victor?
Despite what many of the other Districts think, we don't have an epic duel before each Reaping Day to decide who will volunteer. Granted, I wish we did after Clove was chosen, because despite her obvious talent, she would have happily taken second place in order to make sure we weren't going to go into the Arena together.
Each year, a panel of judges looks over our progress at the Academy, and they chose who they think is the strongest and most likely to win. Naturally, the eighteen year olds are mostly selected to participate in the Games each year. They had not only earned the right with their hard work and dedication, but they were usually the strongest, smartest, largest, and most ready to win. This year, it was all but a guarantee that I would be selected. I am the best in my class, obviously, and no one ever won in a fight against me whether they were male or female. However, I was bewildered when they picked Clove to join me in the Arena; she was just fifteen and still growing (or so she likes to say), so why her?
At first, I was selfishly glad because I knew I had the most dedicated and loyal partner in all of District 2 at my side; she was my best friend and I understood she'd always have my back. We were a team. We could do this, together, like always…
Then, the realization came that if I won, which I was sure I would, I'd have nothing left anymore. No family, no friends, no girl to fight for. It was not something I could bring myself to think about until Clove asked me my feelings on it.
"It's not something I think about really," I respond honestly, and I see the hurt flash in her eyes before she moves her head to the side to avoid looking at me. Oh god, I hope I didn't make her cry. I was not a person who had a way with words, and even Clove was occasionally hurt by my lack of tact as my sister used to call it.
I stand up and walk awkwardly across the room, hoping my movement doesn't send her into some weird girly crying fit. I'm not an expert when it came to feelings and especially didn't know what to do when Clove of all people suddenly had them. Sitting down next to her, I use my pointer finger and thumb to turn her chin towards me. I hear a slight sniffle, and before I see the tears in her eyes, I know she is sincerely upset.
"I don't think about it because it hurts too much, Clovey," I say softly, gently wiping a tear that fell onto her cheek. "I know they're making an example out of us, but I just can't help but pray that someone else finishes the other off so it isn't down to the two of us."
"I bet the Academy pays the Gamemakers off to make sure we're the final two," she laughs bitterly, and I can't help but agree. I wouldn't put it past them.
"No matter what happens, Clove, you know I will never stab you in the back. Ever. We'll figure it all out as it happens, but just know that you can always count on me," I reply fiercely, and I know I've surprised her with the honesty in my voice.
She nods in agreement, "And if we're the last two?"
"Then may the sexiest tribute win," I snicker, earning a small slap on the arm for my attempt to lighten the mood. I know she's amused though, because I can see the small smile straining on her lips.
"You know, Cato," Clove begins after a moment of silence, "I always thought you would win when your time came."
I can't help but snort. "Yeah, that was before you realized you'd be tossed into the Arena with my gorgeous self."
"No, Cato, I still think you'll win," she responds firmly, rendering me confused. If I win, then she dies…
"What are you getting at, Clove?"
"HOW MUCH CLEARER CAN I BE, CATO?" she starts to yell before remembering we were still in our dorm room and didn't want to be overheard. She lowers her voice before continuing. "If we're the last two, I will make sure you are the one to go home."
I blink, dazed, unsure of what she is trying to tell me. I can't bring myself to ask again for fear of being yelled at, so I asked my questions in a different way. "So you're going to throw the whole Games and kill yourself? For me? Why?"
"I wouldn't say 'kill myself' exactly," Clove further explains. "I won't go down without the most glorious, epically dramatic final-two battle in history."
"That doesn't answer my last question, though," I point out.
"Look, you know I hate emotion and all that shit as much as you do, but let me lay it down for you as simply as I can. You have something to fight for. I don't. Your victory proves something to your parents at the very least. It's not your fault Citali died, and they need to stop blaming you. You have the ability to avenge your sister's death, and if you play your cards right, your Victory can prove something to the whole of Panem. Teach them a lesson, Cato. You won't be a piece in their Games. You have nothing to lose, and everything to gain. My Victory is meaningless. Citali and you are the only friends I've ever had. One is already dead. If you die, I have nothing. No one. My parents can't be bothered to talk to me. Everyone else I've ever met thinks I'm weird, and to be honest, I don't like most of them either. You're all I have and you winning is all I can hope for now that we're going into the Arena together."
"I didn't realize you were so self sacrificing," I reply harshly, because it's too much to handle. But she knows this about me, so instead of getting mad, she laughs.
"Yeah, well, me neither. I always assumed I'd be picked a year or two after you won so we wouldn't have to have this conversation. Do you accept my plan?"
"Do I ever have a choice when it comes to accepting your plans?"
"Nope."
I sigh. "I suppose I do. Love you, Clover."
"Love you more even though you're uglier," she giggles. "Cato?"
"Yeah?" I ask
"Promise me one more thing."
"What?"
"Let's give them hell."
I didn't need to know who "them" was in order to agree. My whole plan for these Games was to get revenge for my sister, and I was going to do it my way no matter what the cost. We both had nothing left to lose but each other, and it was apparent we didn't have each other very long.
I know I indulge myself when I think of all the things Katniss and I will do when we win together. It's a fantasy world I can live happily in, because I'm not as attached to her as I am to Clove. With Clove, there are no romantic feelings, but there is an indescribable bond between us that I can't even hope to have with Katniss in the short time we have. Clove means more to me than I ever thought could be possible. Pretending that we could both win together would end in heartbreak that I knew for sure. I wanted to be with Katniss and I understand our time is limited. It's the nature of the Games. But with Clove, it wasn't supposed to happen this way. I was supposed to win one year, and she was supposed to win the next. Back to back victories like Glimmer and Gloss from District 1 did in consecutive years; they were siblings, like Clove and I practically are.
Clove must have sensed the change in my thoughts
"You're thinking hard again. This is dangerous."
"It's not fair, Clove." I don't need to elaborate, because like the mind reader she is, she knows what I really mean.
"God, Cato, we went through this before we left," she sighs, giving me the same look my mother used to give me when I asked what I did to get punished. "Stop over thinking everything. Just fucking live while you can and be grateful for the memories we created when everything is over."
"But-"
"No buts. This isn't about us right now."
"BUT," I interject again, finally getting her to shut up so I could talk. This was something that had to be said. "How much of a fucking douche am I for fantasizing about a world where Katniss and I win together but not you and I? Don't you hate me? Fuck, if I were you, I'd hate me."
"Well, thankfully, I'm not you because I couldn't stand to be that ugly," she chuckles and I gasp in mock offense. How rude. "And no, I don't hate you because I live in a fantasy world where Peeta and I both win and you can't participate to begin with because you broke your leg falling off a net trying to impress Katniss again. It's a beautiful world I live in my dear." She sniggers lightly and I find myself smiling despite the seriousness of the situation.
"I don't get why you like him," I whine. This kid was a total tool. I mean, I could see her liking Thresh. He was strong and powerful, quiet and mysterious. I get why Clove could be attracted to him. But Bread Douche? Gross.
"It's nothing serious. Not like your obsession with your Kat girl, of course. He's just nice and sweet, and it's really nice to finally let myself feel these kinds of emotions since I don't have much time left."
"What are you going to do if I die?" I ask, deciding to let go the whole concept of her and Soon To Be Dead Bread Boy. We haven't talked about this scenario yet, but at this point, my usual confident self had taken quite the beating so it was a possibility that needed to be discussed.
"Depends, how did you die," she inquires, and I know she's picturing all the weird things that could happen to me in the Arena. We'd seen quite a few fucked up things over the years. Some dude who was favored to win drowned in a lake when a shark bit his legs off. How fucking likely was that?
"A tree fell on me," I decide, knowing her answer would be "torture them in a slow, painful death" if I declared that another tribute killed me.
"I'd obviously cut down all the trees in a fit of rage and despair," she begins ominously, and I find myself already laughing at the "serious" story she's cooked up in that twisted little mind of hers. "Then go on a rampage and set them ALL on fire. And then I'd go from there, kill people and shit. Ya know how it works."
She pauses, for dramatic effect, but it's broken by my fit of laughter. I easily picture her actually doing all of that and the Capitol citizens watching being like, "What duh fuck?"
"So what's the plan with the whole Katniss situation?" I ask, concluding it's time to make amends with my Fire Girl before she decided she hated me for good.
"I've got one!" Leyla announces cheerfully. She'd been silent through my entire exchange with Clove, but I can tell she was relieved to get "back to work." Teen girls and their love for match making. Sigh.
"I'm just another piece in your Games, Leyla," I joke, and she sniffs indignantly.
Clove doesn't give Leyla a chance to respond. "No, there's no need for some complicated bullshit on the rooftop or to wait until tomorrow to confess your undying love in front of everyone at lunch. This is what you're going to do, and you're going to do it now."
"Yes ma'am," I salute, ignoring her glare as I prepare myself for whatever plan Clove had concocted.
A/N 2: So, this chapter was a little bit more serious than I expected, but the next one will be more fun with Katniss/Cato interaction galore. At least Cato is back on track!
For those of you who may be a tad confused, the review that spawned this chapter was mostly this,
"Although i can't help but feel as though Catos' thoughts are confusing- he has spent years with Clove, having her as a little sister and sharing everything with each other, even relying on each other for years (sharing a room!). Though his only aim in the games is for him and Katniss to be the sole survivors together, Katniss a girls he has known for a few days- i know he has these ultra strong feeling for her, and i absolutely adore her character in your story... but what about Clove? why isn't he thinking about her fate in the games?"
-EMx2
And so while writing this chapter, I received this review and thought to myself, "Ya know. Good point." and so here comes this chapter!
Okay, too much thinking and explaining so I'm going to go be productive and then start ch 11.
Once again THANK YOU for all your comments/critiques/suggestions/overall support. It truly helps create this story (as seen with this chapter) and develop it into something deeper and more meaningful. I love you all, and to those still in school, good luck on your finals!