A/N: Sorry it took me a while again.. I am nowhere close to abandoning this story, though. Fear not. I just have been a bit on and off with my writer's block. And I wanna do my best with every chapter because you guys deserve a decent story. I feel it's better if I take longer to finish a chapter than if I were to post something I'm not satisfied with and that you'd probably dislike, too. So that way, everybody wins. :)
dominicana - thank you again SO much for sticking with me. I am really happy that you've been enjoying this story and I truly hope that goes on. I love getting reviews from you! :)
Megan13 - thank you so much for another review! I'm really happy you like my story and I can only hope you'll enjoy this chapter, as well! :)
Somebody knows - thank you very much for your review. And I was actually hoping someone would ask me that question! And here's my answer; being that we don't get much background on Clove and Cato before the Games, or even during, as every other writer here I also have come up with my own version of what their pre-Capitol lives might have looked like. So, in my head: Clove was basically raised at the Academy, she has no family and no friends. Cato is the first person in her life that she actually allows herself to interact with. At the Academy they are taught how they will never have friends, only allies and everyone knows how those end. They're not allowed to have feelings, they're not allowed to openly have a relationship with fellow Careers. Clove had no one in her life that would teach her things that, you'd think, come naturally, but they really don't; not when you've spent your childhood on learning how to kill for fun and entertainment. So once Cato starts developing some sort of feelings he cannot himself identify, she is not able to understand what that means. It's not that she doesn't see the way he acts around her or doesn't understand things he confesses. It's more that she's incapable of translating that to something that's absolutely foreign to her. Imagine never having got a hug or not once having been told that you're loved or cared for, instead you've been told that you were born to kill people, that no one is ever your friend, that everyone is a potential threat that could stab you in the back the minute you turn around. That's what, in my story, her life was like. So when Cato implies he cares for her, she doesn't see it that way. She sees it as him trying to play her so that it'll be easier for him to win. Cato, on the other hand, is a bit of a different story, but I can't say why because I would spoil the chapter for you. :)
Hope what I said made sense and again, thanks for reviewing!
Chapter 10: Painkiller
"She spread a salve to soothe his aches...
He suffered from its bitter taste."
The book of odd thoughts, 5:7
Clove's head felt like exploding. Chills ran down her spine painfully, letting her know just how freezing it was. She realized that she was starting to have trouble understanding what was going on. Sending Cato one last glance, she hopped off the table, choking back a hiss as she did. Goosebumps covered her legs and she quickly put on the pants that he'd thrown at her a minute ago. The rest was occupied with packing alll the supplies and she figured she should probably do the same. She grabbed herself a backpack and as she approached the nearest shelf to pick up some food, she saw Katniss on the other side of the room, running a hand across a big, black bow that was hung on the wall. She then took it off and grabbed the arrows that came with it, a broad smile on her face. Clove studied her carefully, her dark eyes narrowed curiously.
So that's how she got an 11...
"Clove."
She was brought back to reality by Thresh who had probably tried to get her attention for a while by now.
"What?" she asked, rising her eyebrows at him. She didn't expect him to talk to her after he had been reunited with little Rue. Why would he?
"We're leaving in a few minutes. You good?"
She stared at him as if she wasn't really comprehending what he just said. She wasn't sure whether he was asking out of curiosity, since Cato made such a big scene earlier and he maybe wondered how she was coping, or was he actually concerned. She sensed someone's eyes on her and when she turned her head, she quickly realized she was right. Her district partner was shooting daggers at them from across the room, his eyes so icy she could almost feel the cold breeze that was coming their way along with his stare. What the hell was his deal?
"Clove, are you-"
"I'm fine, Thresh." she replied in a mechanical voice, shooting him a look that told him to move along. "Go do something else."
He frowned, a very puzzled look on his face, but thankfully he didn't ask any more questions. He just slowly turned around and walked off to where Rue was sitting. Clove proceeded to pack food and other supplies in her backpack, feeling Cato's glare on her back the entire time. It almost made her feel hated. He should have just killed her in that cabin and she would have been better off. Or frying in Hell. Maybe it was indeed hard for her to tell the difference between wrong and right, but she was aware that she wasn't a good person; that much she knew. At least that's what she was raised to believe. And bad people go to Hell, right? Whatever. Hell couldn't be much worse than the arena or life as a victor. She was doomed the day she was born. She was born to die in the Games or win them and live the rest of her life as a pariah, haunted by all those she watched die or killed herself. In best case scenerio she'd end up leading a drunken life like that guy who won the last Quarter Quell - Haymitch. She was trained how to murder in cold blood and enjoy it. And she was sure she would have if things hadn't changed. But she became something she never saw coming in the arena and she couldn't ignore it or stop it. She was what she was. And she was dying. The best thing about dying was that she cared about nothing at that point. And it was making her feel so light. It was a pretty damn nice feeling. Because if she was going to die anyway, she could do and say and be whatever and whoever the hell she wanted. For the first time in her life, she actually felt free. Which was ironic, being that she was locked inside the arena from which she most probably would never escape.
Clove zipped up her backpack, using way more force than necessary and almost breaking the zipper in result. Everyone shot her a glance, but she ignored them and put it on her back, all ready to move on. It appeared that everyone else was ready as well, so without asking, she headed up the stairs and pushed the trap door open. She stepped outside of the bunker and as she did, her leg screamed in protest. She gasped involuntarily, but made sure no other sound came out of her mouth.
"Here."
She shuddered a little, startled and turned her head. She faced Cato, handing her a bottle half-filled with a clear liquid inside. "Drink that, it'll help."
Clove couldn't help but glare at him and was about to ask what the hell that thing was, but she was scared that if she opened her mouth, a moan of pain would escape it. And anyway, she was really at the point where she couldn't care less. So she just grabbed the bottle from him and took a few, big sips quickly. If she wasn't so fast to swallow all that, she was certain she'd spit it all out immediately; whatever he'd given her tasted horrible. She had never drunk anything so shitty in her life. She could feel the liquid setting her insides on fire as it slowly went all the way down to her stomach. The burning sensation in her throat made her cough. She used her sleeve to wipe her mouth, distasteful grimace on her face. "What the hell is this?"
Cato laughed half-heartedly, as she pushed the bottle toward him, hitting him in the chest with it. "It's vodka."
"Fuck, Cato, how about a warning next time?" she snapped, very unhappy.
"I thought it'd be funny." he said simply with a shrug. She glared at him hatefully.
"Go to hell."
"I'm already there." Cato bit back coldly, that hint of a smile on his face long gone. Clove's expression slowly changed from distasteful and annoyed to something a bit softer and more understanding. "Drink it. It'll help with the pain." he told her, pushing the bottle back into her hands. "Trust me." he added, not waiting for any sort of response and already walking away. Clove's eyes followed him for a few seconds, before she glanced down at the bottle and slowly lifted it to her lips again. She took another big sip and as terribly as it tasted, still, it wasn't as bad as the first time. Now, she found the after-taste somewhat soothing; like fire on freezing nights or cool water on fresh burns. The rest of her so-called team passed her by, their eyes focused on the bottle in her hands. She ignored them and drank from it again, squeezing her eyes shut, as she did. She felt it go straight to her blood and spread quickly all over her body, making her feel numb all over. It was a good feeling. Turned out she was right earlier; she sure could pull off Haymitch Abernathy.
They were walking in silence for hours. No one said a word. Cato was, naturally, the leader. Seemed like, after he had brought them to his allies and provided all those supplies, it was easy enough for them to trust him. Although Clove could still feel the tension in the air which let her know how wrong she could be. They were, after all, still in the arena. That stupid rule change had been messing with her head, almost leading her to believe that all this was a team play. That maybe they were all going to get out of here. Wishful thinking. Either she was going crazy or she really had lost too much blood. She figured Game Makers wanted them to feel that way, though. They wanted to create that illusion of safety in their heads. That's all it was: illusion.
Katniss walked beside Peeta, of course, Thresh was staying close to Rue, while Clove was falling behind, dizziness overcoming her. Alcohol had certainly made the pain go away and she was grateful for that, but it was also clouding her mind. She found herself incapable of rational thinking. If someone was to attack her right now, all she'd do is laugh at them. She stopped, out of breath and put the bottle along with her backpack down on the ground. She needed a few minutes to stretch, to take a deep breath, sober up a little. But she wasn't even getting a few seconds, because, as if on cue, Cato looked over his shoulder. He saw her way behind others, bent over with her hands on her thighs. He swore loudly and turned around, walking back toward her. Thresh followed him, looking alarmed, making the others do the same.
"What's up? You alright?" Cato asked, stopping right in front of her. It sounded like he was trying very hard not to snap at her, as if he hated the fact she'd let herself get hurt. She realized she was slowing them down and that was something Cato was definitely finding annoying. Screw him.
"Does it look like I'm alright?" she snapped huskily, lifting her head to be able to glare up at him. Cato looked down at her, irritation on his face slowly being replaced with concern. She fumed. "Stop looking at me like you give a crap." she narrowed her eyes at him angrily, quickly losing her temper. "Like you don't know how the Games work. If I get to live, you die. And I know for sure that that's not why you're here. So I don't get why you bother acting like you want to save me. Just stop, alright? Stop!" she blurted out, standing up straight, her dark eyes now visibly intoxicated. Cato stared at her for what seemed like minutes, disbelief covering all the signs of anger his face must have held. Finally, he laughed in a way that couldn't be any less amused and turned slowly, walking past stunned district 11 and 12 tributes. But then he stopped and before anyone was done processing what'd just been said, he was storming back toward Clove.
"Hey!" Thresh barked, retrieving his sword, when he saw Cato's eyes filled with venom and rage. Everyone could tell he was up to no good. It all happened so fast. Cato was right in front of Clove within seconds, grabbing her arms and Thresh expected him to throw her on the ground, stab her, hurt her, anything...
But he just stood there, his strong hands holding her in place, but not squeezing. He had her in a gentle grip, so gentle that even Clove herself looked at him with surprise.
"You're dying, Clove." Cato whispered, but it seemed like everything stopped for that moment and the complete silence surrounding them made his words just loud enough for everyone else to hear. "You're dying, as we speak." he murmured and she could swear that his hands were slightly shaking, as his grip became even more delicate. "The infection is spreading through your blood and it's poisoning your entire body. It's only a matter of time before you go into shock. I know you know that. Now do you understand what that means?"
Shockingly, fear shot through her body because she knew he was right. She just didn't know why she felt so scared. She thought she was ready to die. It's not like he told her something she wasn't aware of. It sounded ten times worse coming from him. Clove squinted in order to be able to focus more on his face, as the alcohol she'd consumed began to affect her more and more. "Think logically for a second. Do you really think that if this was me acting for whatever reason, I wouldn't have killed you by now? Do you really think that if I didn't give a damn about you, I wouldn't have got rid of you so that you won't be slowing us down? I cannot possibly use you right now. So why did I not even try to eliminate you yet?"
Thresh narrowed his eyes quizzically and glanced at Katniss and Peeta who both returned his stare. It seemed incredible to them that he was actually making sense. So what that they would try to stop him from killing her or fight back? Cato was a Career. He would be able to fight them all at once if he chose. He still would be to kill her if he wanted. Seemed like he finally got tired of Clove's accusations how he was supposedly just acting. Seemed like he decided to go for a more logical way of explaining things to her, hoping he actually gets it through to her. And, judging by the look on her face, seemed like it was working.
"You may not be willing to admit it," Cato continued, and it had never been easier for him to be so honest. "but you know me. And you must know that there can only be one reason for why I have not killed you yet." With that he let go of her arms and allowed his words to sink in before he took a step back. She stared up at him, breathless, still feeling his fingers where he'd put them. "And if you don't.. You're not stupid, Clove." he turned away. "Figure it out."
And just like that, he went and let her be. He sure knew how to drop a bomb and walk away. How did he expect her to figure all this out on her own when her body did not feel like her own? When she was being manipulated by pain, exhaustion and alcohol? She didn't know how to even start.
So she did the only thing that seemed reasonable to her in that moment. She picked up her now beloved bottle and took a hearty swig, knowing everyone was staring at her. She was really tired of it already.
"What?" Clove growled at them, as she wiped her hand across her mouth. "You want some too? Cause I'm not good at sharing."
And with that she grabbed her backpack and followed Cato without waiting for anyone else.
Cato remembered each and every time he found himself feeling something. The day his father left he learned what real, justified hate felt like. The time he first wounded somebody, he got to know the feeling of cold and numb indifference. The time he first saw Clove... well, he didn't know what that feeling was. He just knew he couldn't shrug it off. It was there when he was trying to occupy himself with anything else. It was there whenever he'd eat or try to sleep. It was just there. Always.
And now.. he found himself walking around all day with a very unpleasant tightness in his throat that he could not identify. He definitely wasn't scared. This was not fear. This was something else.
His legs brought him to her dorm without his permission, just like his hand started knocking on the door before he could stop it. He first heard some talking and fussing, before the door opened and a pretty girl with blonde, shiny hair tied into a messy ponytail faced him. Her half-irritated, half-concerned look quickly melted away from her face when she saw him. She had probably expected one of their trainers or worse, Peacekeepers.
"Cato!" she gasped, smiling like an idiot. "You're looking for some entertainment?"
He knew her but not by her name which was bad, he supposed, as he had taken a little bit of advantage of her a couple of times. Nothing too serious, but even girls at the Academy, at least some of them, acted like a bunch of giggling idiots sometimes and did get upset whenever a guy would not remember their name the next day or fool around with someone else. Which was ridiculous, really, as they were not allowed to date anyway.
This was why he liked Clove so much. She didn't give a crap about those things. She was tough; the way girls at the Academy should be. And she was smart.
"Uh," Cato murmured, a bit taken aback by the nameless girl's enthusiasm and suggestive question. "I'm actually-"
"Geez, it's chilly tonight, why don't you come on in for a sec?"
With that she wrapped her skinny fingers around his wrist and pulled him inside, where the rest of her roommates were all gaping at him with smiles on their faces. They probably couldn't believe he was in their room. All of them looked very much awake now.
"Uh, hey." he said to them, getting free from the blonde's grip, as his eyes roamed over the room and stopped, when they found the one person he came here to see. She was lying on her bed, reading. She didn't even look at him and he knew she must have heard the other girl call his name earlier. Sometimes he almost wished Clove was a bit more like those stupid girls, maybe then she'd actually know he existed, not only when they were training together, but always.
"So what's up, tough guy? Anything I can help you with?" the blonde-haired girl asked, obviously completely oblivious, as she put her hand on his shoulder. He didn't even respond or look at her, he just walked away and toward Clove's bed, knowing he had the attention of every single person in that room. Except for one.
"Clove." he said her name to make her recognize his presence, as he stopped right in front of her bed.
"Cato." she replied without so much as a glance, continuing to read. He swallowed that tight lump in his throat and looked over his shoulder; the rest of the girls were staring at him all wide-eyed. They couldn't believe that of all people, he came to see her. Clove was anything but popular or generally liked.
"Can we talk?" he asked, turning around again and looking down at her. He couldn't help but notice how different and pretty she looked when she was not wearing her training outfit with her hair messy around her face. She let out a tired sigh and raised her eyebrows at him, putting her book down.
"What?"
He almost felt like laughing. This was so Clove. She wasn't even going to sit up.
"Not here." he clarified. "Outside."
"Now?"
"Yeah."
She stared at him with a frown for a moment. Turned out she had to be at least a little curious, because after another half a minute she actually got up and put her shoes and jacket on. Ignoring her roommates' glares and evilly sounding whispers, she followed him out of the dorm. She closed the door and crossed her arms over her chest, shooting him a puzzled look, well, more like a puzzled glare.
"What's your deal?" she hissed. He just stared. He didn't know what to say, since it wasn't his intention to come here in the first place. He felt like he needed someone, though. Not someone. He needed her.
"Wanna go do some training?" he blurted out the first thing his confused brain came up with. It was their thing. It was what their entire partnership revolved around, after all.
"What, now?" she looked at him, as if she was seriously considering that he'd gone mad. "Cato, it's the middle of the night. The Games are on tomorrow morning."
"I know." he snapped, clenching his fists. That was why he was here. But well, she couldn't know that. "Are you coming or not?"
She put her hands on her hips, furrowing her eyebrows. Maybe her silent speculations were correct. Maybe he had gone mad. He was an idiot for coming to her dorm. He was about to turn on his heels and leave when-
"Okay fine." she said, zipping up her jacket and already walking away. He stared at her back for a few seconds, smiling to himself. Before she had a chance to yell at him to hurry up, he caught up to her and they both headed back to the Academy's main bulding.
Time was flying, it was literally slipping through his fingers way too fast. He tried his best to drag out their training session, but he knew that the morning was going to come nonetheless.
Wrapped up in his own thoughts and not paying enough attention to what he was doing, he ended up almost cutting Clove's stomach open with his sword. She jumped back with wide eyes at the last minute.
"Shit!" he swore, dropping his sword as if it burned him. "Clove, I'm sorry-"
"I don't know what surprises me more, really. The fact you dragged me out of bed at minight to train, the fact you're a fucking idiot that just almost gut me or the fact that you actually apologized." she glared at him with a hand placed on her stomach as if she could feel his sword cutting it. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
He let out a heavy breath, running a tired hand through his hair before he dropped down on the floor in resignation. He almost hurt her. Badly. Training was over. He was in no shape to do this. He would have never forgiven himself if he'd hurt her. So since letting it all out by swinging his sword was no longer an option, he decided to do the only other thing that he could think of; he opened his mouth and he talked.
"You know the guy that was picked to volunteer as tribute this year?"
"I've seen him around, but no. I don't know him. Why?" she asked with furrowed eyebrows, her eyes still filled with anger. Cato looked up at her and he knew he didn't have to say anything else. He could tell by the look on her face she'd figured it out.
"His name is Cade." he choked out, curling his fists into tight balls of whitened knuckles. "He's my brother."
Clove watched him for what seemed like a very long time. He couldn't read anything from her face. But little did he know, she was actually able to read a lot from his. His pain was very much visible, even to her. She said nothing. She let another five or ten long minutes pass by, before she rested her small body next to his. Her shoulder lightly brushed his as she sat down and he smiled on the inside. He wanted to think she did that on purpose. That this was her way of saying she understood how he must feel.
Which she didn't, really. She couldn't possibly understand.
They stayed like that until the morning came and then silently got up and side by side they headed for the main square where everyone had gathered to watch the opening of the 73rd Hunger Games, followed by a Bloodbath that his only brother, his only family, was going to be a part of.
They marched through the woods for hours until it got black dark. Clove's vision was blurry which didn't help as she had been trying not to trip and fall on her face for over an hour now. Everyone turned on their flashlights and tried to keep them low. She almost laughed at the irony. She and Cato were the only ones left from the Career pack. They were, theoretically, the greatest threat for everyone else in the arena. And they had supplies and weapons and Thresh. Plus, something was telling Clove that Katniss actually was a good shot. Their alliance was strong. The strongest. And yet, they still had to creep around, because nothing was the way it was supposed to be. Anything could happen.
They made it out of the woods and the city emerged before them, dark and abandoned. It took Peeta a minute to explain to very surprised Katniss and Thresh how him, Cato, Rue and Lily had started the Games here and how there was probably more than this and the woods out there. Clove wasn't even listening. She was the first one to step onto the dusty street. The exhaustion was overwhelming. Seemed like everyone felt a similar way, because they didn't walk for more than five minutes, when Cato took a sharp turn and walked into one of the smaller, more hidden buildings. Inside, it looked just like any other building he had seen before. The floor was dirty, there was no furniture and one broken window.
Everyone silently agreed that this was where they were going to spend the night and took seats in different parts of the room. Cato put his backpack down and walked over to the window, staring at something in the darkness. Clove took a deep breath and slowly came closer to him and looked out the window, as well.
"What's up?" she asked, sounding fairly curious. Though she could barely see his face, she knew he didn't even look at her.
"Why are they just letting us wander around like that?" he murmured more to himself than to anyone else, but Clove wasn't the only one who heard him. The rest stopped doing whatever it was they were doing to look at them. "Why is nothing happening?"
Clove sent him a glance, then looked out the window again with a tired sigh, hugging the bottle to her chest. Cato looked at her as if he just recognized she was beside him.
"I see you took my advice." he said, referring to her now empty bottle. "How's the pain?"
"What pain?" she asked, smirking and he nodded with a smile of his own. "There's two of you, though, as if one was not enough."
"You're drunk." Cato stated, like it was completely normal to be intoxicated during Hunger Games. "Who would have thought?"
Clove let out a short laugh, looking as if she found everything around her amusing. They stood there for a few minutes in silence, as Clove looked around. Thresh was sitting by the wall with Rue fast asleep on his shoulder. Katniss and Peeta were both lying on the floor beside each other, staring at the ceiling.
Her head was spinning and everything was blurry. Her smirk slowly faded, as she squinted to be able to see him better.
"You said there was one reason for why you haven't run me through with your sword yet."
"Well, that's entirely your choice of words." he half-joked, shooting her a glance. She ignored him.
"What does that mean?" she asked, confused and he could only smile sadly at her absolute emotional disability. He knew that deep inside she did realize what he meant. What that one reason was. She was just too proud to admit it. Maybe it was too much for her to take. Or maybe she was just too drunk to put all the pieces together.
"It means you should go sleep the liquor off." Cato changed the subject, taking the bottle from her hands. "You won't remember a thing tomorrow morning, anyway."
"Someone has been drunk before." she quickly caught on. "Alcohol doesn't come in easily at the Academy. It's actually strictly prohibited. So when did you do that?"
To Clove's surprise, her question made him look away quickly, as if it made him super uncomfortable. He stared out the window again and there was something in his eyes she'd never seen before.
"That night they picked us to volunteer."
"No way. You celebrated without me?" she asked, mockingly putting her hand on her chest as if that hurt her heart. And all Cato could think about was how exceptionally funny she was when under influence. He should have got her drunk when they were still in district 2.
"No." he answered her question, giving her a barely noticable sad smile. "was not celebrating."
Clove got rid of her intoxicated smirk for good this time. She remembered how she'd found him in that locker room, looking totally devasted. She remembered how she was incapable of delivering any words of comfort. How she just sat there, staring at him. She felt a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach at the memory and so she was about to walk away when Cato spoke again;
"My father was a total drunk."
She stopped abruptly and stared at his profile for a minute. Cato had never mentioned his parents before to her. Ever. So, taken by surprise, she just stood there, expecting him to go on. He did.
"He was the biggest prick you'd ever meet. And he loved to drink. He used to hide alcohol in odd places in the house so that me or my brother wouldn't be able to take it all away. We never really tried. But he was just twisted that way. Then one day, he finally got up the guts to leave and he took all his crap and liquor with him. Except for this one bottle he had put underneath my bed. He couldn't have taken it because he would have had to come in my room and that would have woken me up. He was a coward. He wanted to leave without ever having to face us again."
Clove still just stood there, stunned, almost feeling sober again. She didn't know why he chose to confess all this to her. Maybe because he was right and she really would not remember any of this once she awakes in a few hours. Maybe because when one knows they could die at any second, it makes them talkative out of the blue. Maybe he felt the need to pass on something about his past so that when he dies, it'll mean something to people. He won't just be one of the Careers anymore. He'll be remembered.
"I kept that one bottle he'd left behind." Cato continued. "I kept it under my bed. Not because I wanted something that was his; I really didn't need any reminders in order to wake up every day hating him. I kept it simply because I wanted to save it for the day when I would need to do what my father had been doing for half of his life."
Clove leaned against the wall by the window, moonlight enlightened her pale face and even though her eyes were red and smaller than usual and her hair was not as smooth, Cato didn't think he remembered her looking more beautiful. In that moment he just wanted to die, looking at her.
"Need to do what?" she asked uncertainly, not sure whether she actually wanted to know.
"It's like I told you, little girl." he said and it was definitely the effect of all the alcohol she had downed, because she could see tears in his tired, cold eyes, right before he whispered: "it helps with the pain."
He didn't give her any time to process what he'd just told her. He didn't stick around to see what answer she might come up with. He just simply walked away and outside to sit in the darkness and keep watch there.
She found herselr frozen to that spot where he'd left her. All she could hear was Thresh's husky breathing and the soft whistles of the wind, forcing itself through every crack it could.
Ever since she could remember, Clove always liked training best alone. It didn't bother her that she had already spent the entire day training. She was always up for more. Back at the Academy she would go back to one of the training rooms after hours where she could finally be all by herself. Just her and her knives. Then Cato had somewhat interrupted her calm routine that night he had showed up and talked to her for the first time. With time, though, she had found herself almost enjoying his company. They normally trained in silence, anyway. They didn't feel the need to talk.
Clove couldn't help it any longer. After the training and dinner were done on the third day, she quietly sneaked out of her bedroom and took the elevator, hoping no one would hear her. She walked down the empty corridors, remembering very well how to get to the big training hall. Once she got there, she let a small smirk curve her lips. She didn't care how late it was. She needed this privacy. This alone time.
She grabbed several knives from the table and began to throw at the dummies, while still walking. Finally she stopped, still quite far away from them, and threw the last knife which hit the dummy in the middle right in the very heart.
She smiled to herself, appreciating her own perfection when the sounds of slow clapping disturbed her. Clove rolled her eyes, knowing very well who that was.
"Couldn't help but follow me, huh?" she called, without looking back, her voice echoing in the room.
"Sure couldn't."
Clove froze. She was not one to be caught off guard often. And this was definitely one of those rare times .
"Came to play with your toys, little girl?"
Clove clenched her fists and turned around confidently, a dangerous spark in her eyes.
"What do you want?"
Marvel smiled in a way that'd give most people chills. Not Clove, though. She was anything but anxious. She was not feeling threatened.
"Just wanted to make sure you're safe. You know, since Cato isn't around." His smile darkened even more, as he took a few steps toward her. She stayed put. "And I thought I'd clear something with you about our interesting conversation at lunch today."
Clove laughed, almost amusingly. She knew what this was about. Marvel didn't like how Cato claimed her as his kill. And he must have hated the way he made him and Glimmer look like scared to death six year olds.
"You came here to tell me that just for the record you didn't shit your pants when Cato threatened you? It sure looked like you were about to."
Marvel's fake smile crept off of his face like a nasty worm and he stopped right in front of her, his glare burning holes in her face. She stayed put.
"Better watch your back, Clove. He can't do it for you when he's asleep, can he? If I were you, I'd sleep with my eyes open. Cause once you close those pretty, little eyes of yours, you may not get the chance to open them again."
"Did you practice this speech in front of a mirror? If I were that girl from 11, I would actually consider being scared." Clove mocked him. "Now move the hell away, you're wasting my time."
Marvel had different intentions, though. It didn't look like he was going anywhere and he no longer bothered to smile. He looked furious. Hateful.
"Watch your back, Clove."
"That's a pretty amusing advice coming from you."
Marvel turned on his heels, startled. His eyes widened a little at the sight of Cato standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, his dark blue eyes murderous. He never saw or heard him coming. How long had he stood right behind him?
"Did you wanna say something else?" Cato asked, pretending to be polite. "Unless you want to be the first face in the sky, I'd consider my words carefully."
"We were just talking." Marvel said stupidly, trying to remain all tough but failing completely. He was no competition for Cato.
"And I am just gonna cut your damn arm off if you ever come near her again." You'd think Cato was just trying to scare him because obviously it was strongly against the rules to hurt the other tributes before the Games. But hey, no one had ever tried it before. And Marvel had a feeling he'd go through with that promise. "That is if she doesn't do it first." Cato added, nodding towards Clove. "And since we're being so brutally honest, Marv," he took a few steps forward so that his face was a few inches away from Marvel's. "if I were you, I'd rather myself to be the one that'd do the cutting. Cause I assure you; you do not want her to use her knives on you."
As soon as those words came out of his mouth, Clove could almost swear that Marvel's face turned white. He stared at them, all helpless and lacking the guts to bite back. It was hilarious for them to watch.
"I'll see myself out." he murmured under his breath and walked away. Clove could tell it took everything in him not to start running. She smirked to herself but when he finally disappeared, her face turned blank and she glared at her district partner dangerously. "I don't need you backing me up."
"Hey, I couldn't let you hog all the fun, now could I? Gotta share, Clover."
She narrowed her eyes at him and he smirked, looking super amused. She was never going to admit that but he just managed to really piss her off and get back on her good side in less than a minute. And it wasn't his first time, either. Smooth, Cato. Real smooth. "Don't ever call me 'Clover'." she told him just to have the last word, as she turned her back on him and carried on with her knife throwing with a smile she naively thought he didn't catch.
Cato sat outside so long that when he finally came back inside he couldn't feel his fingers. He turned on his flashlight and dragged the light around the room to make sure everyone was asleep. It appeared they were all out. As the light fell on Clove, he swallowed hard and squeezed the flashlight so hard it almost broke. Her back was facing him, as she slept, curled up into a ball underneath a thin blanket. She only packed one? Cato found his backpack and take out one of his own. He slowly approached her and then covered her up, peeking at her face. She was very pale and her lips were a slight shade of purple. She almost looked like she wasn't breathing.
Deciding he couldn't stand watching her die right in front of him, he moved away from her and to the other corner of the room. He had only just sat down when he heard someone stirring out of sleep. He pointed his flashlight at the source of those sounds and saw Thresh slowly sitting up, as if he had some weight on him.
"I'll keep watch now." Thresh growled, his eyes squinting a bit. Cato just nodded; there was no way he could argue that. Exhaustion was really starting to eat at him. He was about to lie down when something popped in his mind. He looked around; Katniss and Peeta were deep asleep, her head resting on his shoulder. Rue was right by Thresh, wrapped up in a few thin blankets. And Clove... well, he couldn't see her face, He was sure she was out, though; if it wasn't t
he fever, then the alcohol had definitely put her to sleep. He took his eyes off of her tiny, curled up form and glanced at Thresh.
"Did Clove kill him?"
Thresh turned his head and Cato didn't need more light to know that the other guy was gazing at him questioningly. He wondered how many people Thresh could have in his mind concerning that question. "Marvel." Cato decided to clarify, making him look down. He frowned at his reaction. "Glimmer said they had stumbled across Clove and implied she could have been the one to kill him. So was she?"
Thresh glanced down at Rue to make sure she was not awake, then looked up again.
"What does it matter? He's dead." he said coldly.
"It matters to me." Cato barked at him, as quietly as he could. "That asshole was after her before the Games even started. I was looking forward to ending him so I wanna know how he died."
"If you go back in the woods and find the river where he attacked us, you just may happen to find his body to see for yourself how he died." Thresh snapped, disgust very clear in his voice.
"What are you talking about?"
"They don't collect the bodies. Have you seen one hovercraft since we got here?"
Cato furrowed his eyebrows, realizing Thresh was right. He hadn't seen any hovercraft so far. Which meant Lily was still lying out there with her eyes wide open. What were the Game Makers trying to achieve by doing that? Traumatize the tributes more? As if fear of being killed at any second wasn't enough for most of them. He remembered the state he had left Glimmer's body in and he could almost feel her dried blood burning the skin on his neck. "If you go back to that river you were speaking of, I assure you that you'll find something way worse than Marvel's dead body." he whispered darkly, clenching his fists at the memory of the girl who dared to hurt his partner. Thresh stared at him, probably trying to figure out what that meant. But Cato had a feeling he knew very well what or rather who he was talking about. And little did Thresh know, Cato had already sorted out who had put an end to Marvel's life. And it definitely was not Clove.
"Anyone that comes in your way pays the highest price for it, don't they?" Thresh asked hatefully and Cato had a sudden urge to laugh. And so he did. In the darkest way possible.
"It's the Hunger Games we are in, Twelve. Twenty three people will die, anyway. Whether they get in my way or not. So don't act like you wouldn't cut someone to pieces if they came onto you or your little friend." Cato said with a pretend smirk on his mouth. "The only difference between us," he carried on, his smirk quickly fading as his face hardened. "is that I'd do it with a smile."
As Thresh processed everything the other guy had just told him, he came to one, certain conclusion; Cato wasn't a lethal Career. Nor was he necessarily a heartless, blood-thirsty monster. He was just plain insane. And what was even worse, he wasn't done talking yet.
"We're two sides of the same coin, whether you are willing to admit that or not." he continued, having noticed the look on Thresh's face. "It's human nature. It's who we are. The Games are the living proof of that." he raised his arm as if pointing at something that was outside. "You were raised in poverty which made you compassionate. I was raised around weapons and blood which made me vicious. So yeah, anyone that dares to get in my way will quickly regret it and die as I laugh at them. And I won't give five damns."
By the time he was done talking, Thresh had half a dozen different emotions written on his face; from repulsion and hate to realization and ... shame. Because he knew that as wrong as it was, as terrible as he made it all sound, Cato was indeed, unfortunately, right. And shockingly, he actually began to feel sorry for the guy. He knew Cato would have turned out to be a different person if it hadn't been for the Academy. It's the Academy that had made him become what he was now. Ironically, though, it was the Capitol that had brought up all the good things about him he didn't know he possesed before the Games. That announcement on the very first day had changed way more than just the rules. And Thresh was sure that was not their intention. There was no turning back now.
Thresh glanced over at sleeping Clove, as Cato continued to stare at him without so much as a blink. He knew nothing about his childhood. He knew nothing about his family. But as crazy and ruthless as Cato was or wasn't, there was one thing that made him as normal as any other guy from other, poorer districts. One thing that made Thresh see the guy in a whole, different light. He tore his gaze away from Clove to look at Cato again. And as he did, hate and disgust had completely vanished from his eyes.
Cato watched his brother volunteer for some 13-year-old boy before he even got the chance to freak out. His hand shot up in the air, accompanied with a loud "I volunteer!" and before Cato knew what was happening, he was standing outside of the room where his brother was waiting for those who wanted to wish him luck or say goodbyes. He was the only person that was there. Nobody else had come. He stood there, having a staring contest with the door for a minute or so, then put his hand on the handle and pushed it open.
Cade was there, of course, standing in the middle of the room, his muscular arms crossed over his chest as he glared at him like a predator. It was almost as if he could see him through the door earlier, all hesitant and debating whether he should come in or not. Cato closed the door behind him and looked him in the eye bravely. Not knowing what else to do, he followed his example and folded his arms across his chest.
"Congrat-"
"Listen carefully, because we don't have much time." Cade whispered quickly, making him frown in confusion. He took a few steps toward him so that their faces were inches apart. "Next year you will be the one to volunteer. I know it and everyone else does, too."
" I don't ge-"
"Shut up and listen." his brother snapped impatiently, cutting him off effectively. "I have seen the way you look at her."
Cato froze. Blood rushed to his face and he let his arms fall to his sides, sweat covering the palms of his hands.
Impossible. There was no way. He hurriedly opened his mouth to deny all that, but Cade left him no room to comment or argue.
"Don't you dare lie to me, I don't wanna have to punch you before I go. Now, just listen."
Cato gaped at him, absolutely stunned with his behavior; his brother had never been much of a talker. He had expected him to just throw a "see you soon" or "train hard" at him before having him leave the room. Yet here he was, giving him a speech about something, well.. someone who he really did not want to talk about, especially with him.
"You stare at her every time you think no one's watching, you barely touch her during hand-to-hand combat, you eat with her, you come in and leave with her and I am pretty sure you two do some extra training after hours. Now what frustrates me isn't that I had noticed that. It's the fact your stupid ass is making it obvious and so Goddamned easy for everyone else to notice that, as well."
"I don't know what you're-"
"Shut the fuck up, Cato, I'm serious." Cade barked like he never had before. "Look, I helped you train when you were just a boy and I know how good you are. You're better than me."
At that point, Cato actually wished his brother would punch him, just so he could make sure his ears were not trying to trick him.
"But you could be great." Cade went on . "You could be the next victor; one of the best. For fuck's sake, do not throw this all away for her."
Cato wasn't able to hold his stare anymore. He looked down at the floor, feeling ashamed. He felt as if he had let his brother down. His only family. Funny, he'd never thought he had any sort of obligations toward him, but Cade had practically raised him, taught him half the things he knew, pushed him to his limits, taught him to aim for things impossible to achieve. And it did feel like in a way he'd failed him. Now his brother was going in the arena and as much as he hoped for a simple goodbye or a pat on the back, Cade was glaring at him with fury instead. Because he had discovered the one secret he had been hiding. The one thing that he was so sure he had control over.
In that moment he realized his brother was right. He was born for the Games. He was great enough to win them. To claim that crown. To come back as the best, bring glory to his district. Yes, he had let himself care for Clove. He couldn't reverse that. But she was just a girl. He was not going to throw his glory away for her. Ever. There was no w-
"-unless you're absolutely sure she's worth it."
Cato's head shot up so quickly he felt something crack in the back of his neck. Cade wasn't glaring at him anymore. For the first time ever, his brother didn't look all dark and souless. "Look, I meant it when I said you were better than me, and you're better than me because you had broken out of their system. There's a reason they tell us friends are our worst enemies. There's a reason they keep us at distance from one another and why they don't want us to think on our own. We are not supposed to feel." Cade looked almost worried. But Cato was sure he was just seeing things. It'd be absurd, wouldn't it? "You broke the rules, Cato. That means they no longer own you. But it also means you've become a great threat. And once they realize that, you're dead man walking."
Cato stood there, as everything he'd just heard was being digested. Was this really happening? Where was his brother? Who was this guy? Why did everything in his life have to become so complicated? His life was supposed to be simple. Messed up and wrong on so many levels, but simple.
"If you really care about her," Cade said, and surprisingly those words didn't seem to taste bad in his mouth. He sounded genuine. So unlike his typical self. Unlike the Cade he thought he knew. Cato assumed that knowing you could die within the next few days really does change people. How else could he explain this? "Cato, if you really do care for her, you need to step away."
Step away? But Clove was his training partner. She was the only one whose company he enjoyed. She was what he looked forward to every morning. She was something he loved looking at, her voice was his remedy, her skills were his main motivation. She was his every day life. For God's sake she brought the human out of him.
Having seen his inside struggle, Cade let out a heavy, somewhat frustrated sigh and put his hand on Cato's shoulder, giving him a slight shake.
"Let her go." he told him. "For her sake and your own."
And with that he moved away and back to the middle of the room, without breaking eye contact with his younger brother. "Now go. And you better hope that no one's heard a word of what I just told you."
Cato felt like he was frozen to that spot. It wasn't until a Peacekeeper stormed inside the room, announcing his time was over that he realized he was capable of moving again. He had to say something. Or else he knew he would spend the rest of his days, hating himself more than ever.
"Good luck, Cade." he told him with a nod. His brother nodded back and Cato knew he understood what he meant by that. Something he couldn't say out loud. Something a Career was not supposed to ever say.
Thank you.
Cato didn't listen to his brother. He didn't listen because he was just so unbelievably clueless. He was trying hard to stop himself from laughing now at his own stupidity. Everything was so clear to him all of a sudden. If he had been paying just a bit more attention, he would have noticed all the signs and Clove wouldn't have ended up here with him. His brother couldn't have possibly made it any clearer and yet his stupid ass still did not get it.
They didn't pick them both to volunteer cause he'd started training with her and they caught on their amazing chemistry. They didn't pick them to volunteer because they thought they'd work so great in the arena.
They picked them because they knew. Cato had no doubt about it. They knew it was way more than partnership to him. They somehow found out that he cared for her. That was the reason they were now both stuck here. That was why Clove was now dying. Not because he was stupid enough to start training with her.
But because he was stupid enough to fall for her.
And if he was right, which he was, then his brother didn't die in the Games just because he had bad luck or because he was weak. Cade was an extremely good and strong Career. His death was set up the moment he'd chosen to warn him not to get involved with Clove anymore. The moment he chose to talk to him about the rules in district 2 and how Cato had become a threat to their system. That was when Cade had unintentionally signed his death sentence. He had no chances winning the Games whatsoever. His brother basically gave his life to warn him and he still didn't listen.
He tried. He stayed away from Clove for a few days until the night before the Games when he ended up going to see her in the dormitory. And from that moment, after he'd confessed to her that his brother was in the Games, he never tried to stay away again. He needed her. He knew she couldn't deliver him any comfort, she couldn't snap her fingers and become affectionate and caring. But it wasn't what he was craving anyway. He just wanted her. Her and nobody or nothing else. He just needed to talk to her, train with her and be around her. And after Cade was killed, he found himself completely leaning on her. She didn't notice, of course. She knew he was going through something she would never be able to understand. She never had any family. She had never lost anyone like he did. But still, despite all that, she let him be around her more than before. She said nothing when he'd walk her to her dorm and she said nothing when he'd come get her for more training in the middle of the night. She couldn't give him any comfort in a way that a normal person would need it. But he was not a normal guy and what she gave him was all he needed to recover.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of stirring again. Cato grabbed his flashlight in a hurry and turned it on, looking for the source. Everything seemed to be in order. Everyone, except for Thresh was still. asleep.
"Cato.."
He was by her side before she was finished calling his name. "Hey." he growled, as she turned on her other side to face him. "How do you feel?"
"You're gonna wake them."
Cato frowned, not understanding. Wake who? The rest? Since when did she care? Her eyes were teary and unfocused and at first he assumed she was just still intoxicated, but as he put his hand on her forehead, he understood it was the extremely high fever that was probably making her act oddly.
"You're gonna w-"
"It's fine." he cut her off, dismissively. He really didn't care whether someone was awake and listening. "What's up? You need water?"
"You need to go. You'll wake them up, I don't want to hear them bitch all night if you do."
"What?" Cato moved his hand away quickly, as if her skin burned it. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm not going to train with you tonight. I'm tired. Now get outta here before you wake up my stupid roommates."
All blood drained from his face and he felt a quickly growing lump in his throat. He stared down at her, as if expecting for her to burst out laughing any second and tell him she was just screwing with him. But she just closed her eyes, ready to doze off again. He threw a glance over his shoulder at Thresh, who didn't seem to be paying them any mind. So his eyes drifted back to Clove who was now watching him curiously.
"What's wrong with your face?" she frowned and he saw sweat glistening on her forehead. "You need the bathroom or something?"
Cato's body went cold as he realized what was happening; she was delusional. The alcohol she'd drunk a few hours back was definitely still in her system, making her feel way better than she would have if she had nothing in her body to kill the pain. Still... she seemed to have lost the sense of where she was or what was going on.
"Clove.." he said huskily, stunned because with that expression on her face, she looked so much like her old self. Like the Clove before the Games. The Clove whose eyes had absolutely no softness to them. Ever. Clove whose face was always wearing a hard, cold expression except for that sarcastic smirk of hers at times. And it scared him.
"What?" she snapped, looking irritated with him. All of a sudden he found himself missing the Clove she became in the arena. The Clove that had saved his life in the cabin. The Clove that allowed him to treat her wound.
"Nothing." Cato growled, looking away. "I'll go now."
"Good." she replied shortly and turned her back on him, leaving him sitting there with a fast beating heart and adrenaline flowing in his veins. Within seconds she was out again. And he couldn't help but wonder who she will be when she wakes up in the morning.
If she wakes up.
A/N: Over 10,000 words, you all. I think I should tone it down a bit. Well, hope you liked it! Promise I'll do my best to update faster next time. Please, let me know what you think. :)