KATNISS

Cato was advancing like a tidal wave that she could not outrun, and Katniss held the lighter up as the only thing that could save her.

But that might not be true. There was one person who could convince Cato. Katniss glanced at Clove and made a snap decision.

"Why don't y ask Clove?" she stalled.

Cato stopped walking and turned to look at Clove. They were all looking at Clove now, Katniss realised, waiting to see which was she would go.

Katniss knew with absolute certainty that Clove would take the stance that best suited herself, and she only hoped that saving herself and Peeta somehow fit in that viewpoint.

"Well," Clove said, drawing it out, "that's some plan you made there Katniss."

Clove had eviscerated Rue, and Katniss had no words for what she had done to Glimmer, and yet Katniss felt that Clove liked this bit the best, making them wait.

It would be so easy for her to highlight the flaws in their plan. The window was open, and there was no smell of gas. The lighter would probably quench if Katniss threw it that far. If there was an explosion then she and Peeta would die along with them and Katniss was not ready to kill herself.

Cato did not need to know any of these things.

Clove shrugged. "What's another hour to us Cato? Let them run off and hide. We'll just come and kill them in our own sweet time."

Cato smiled his most dashing smile, his interview smile. "I guess we'll see you later guys."

Katniss grabbed Peeta's hand and pulled him inside before Cato realised how dumb he was being.

They ran through the kitchen and then she stopped short.

"C'mon Katniss," Peeta urged, but she was already backtracking, moving closer to the open window, which Cato and Clove stood on the other side of.

She crouched low and listened hard. Cato's voice first. "What are you up to Clove?"

"I was too distracted by your arms during your weights show," Clove replied casually. "Couldn't restrain myself. We'll kill them later, but I want you all to myself first."

Katniss didn't know Clove very well, but something in her tone matched the one Katniss put on when she was acting, pretending that she loved Peeta.

But what did it matter to Katniss if Clove didn't truly like Cato all that much?

She stood and took Peeta's hand, and they retreated upstairs, alive.

CLOVE

It wasn't used very often except for drowning others, but Clove decided to actually swim in the pool that night.

She swam to work out her anger, and sliced through the water like her hands were actual blades, knives that she never had to let go of.

Each time the image of Cato with his smug smiling face came to mind, she kicked that much harder, and forced herself to swim yet another lap.

She was juggling, juggling both the delusional and demented Cato and trying to strike an alliance with Twelves, just in case Cato turned on her.

She just wanted to hurt someone or something to relieve the stress, but everyone was an ally now, so she took it out on herself and thrashed through the water until her breaths were ragged like Rue's wound had been.

The stars above glimmered in the pool water, and Peeta's reflection bobbed along with them. He had been standing silently at the edge of the pool for the last twenty minutes.

She ignored him for as long as was bearable, but it didn't look like he was going anywhere, so she reluctantly made her way to the side. She did not pull herself out of the water and flaunt her wet body though. She was not Glimmer.

"Coming in?" she asked him, still recovering her breath. Her ribcage was prominent against her wet swimsuit, and she was aware of how weak she looked, how thin.

"No," he said softly. "It's pretty cold out Clove. Do you want to come inside now?"

Clove looked at him and she didn't understand. "Why are you being nice to me Peeta?" she asked bluntly.

He looked down. "I don't know. Effie -my escort- was very serious about manners."

Clove laughed at that, and Peeta dropped a towel onto the ground beside him.

"That's for whenever you want to come out."

"Thanks."

"Don't worry about it."

He was turning away when she called out.

"Peeta? Just curious. Aren't you the least bit afraid of me?"

He turned around slowly but had his answer fast. "No."

"Why?"

"Because the most you can do is kill me. So can anyone else. It's not a rare gift. I could kill myself if I wanted. The only thing I'm curious about is why you haven't done it yet."

"Does no-one ever consider that maybe I just want to make a few friends?"

He barked out a laugh at that. "I don't think so."

It was a long time later before she made up her mind that she had hurt herself enough, and pulled herself out of the water.

It was cold out and she was grateful for the towel. Clove padded back into the house, leaving watery footprints behind her.

Cato was waiting for her inside the door.

"Come on," he said with a smile, and kissed her forehead.

So there was to be more kissing. Wasn't that just great.

She smeared a smile onto her face and followed him into the bathroom, dropping the towel along the way.

CATO

He pushed Clove up against the tiled wall, like he was going to kiss her, but grabbed her neck tight instead and lifted her off the ground. She kicked into empty air.

"Cato?" she asked in a thin voice, clawing at his hands.

He grabbed onto her dark hair and plunged her face into the toilet before she could

talk more, and pressed his weight against her, holding her down.

It reminded him of that familiar scene where the one friend holds back the other girl's hair as she acquaints the contents of her stomach with the inside of the toilet, splashing colour onto the white.

He too held Clove's hair, but it was twisted into his fist and pulled tight in a manner that could not be construed as friendly.

After a few more seconds Cato pulled her out again, and spat in her face. "Consorting with Twelves, are you? Thought that you could just talk to Peeta like that, out in the open, and I wouldn't notice?"

Clove coughed and he slammed her into the toilet bowl again, but she raked her hands back and managed to gouge at his eye. Cato cursed and pulled back.

Clove lifted her head up out of the toilet, her hair wet and wild around her face. She looked like a dead thing, something that should have been drowned.

Cato lunged forward again, and grabbed a toothbrush, knocking the cup that held them into the sink.

He wanted ram the toothbrush down her throat. He wanted to watch her gag on it.

But Clove slammed her teeth shut even as he grabbed her head, digging his fingers into her skull and trying to get the toothbrush down her throat. Her lip was cut somehow and she looked terrifying, blood smearing into her teeth, her hair soaked and her eyes frenzied.

Cato expected Clove to push herself away from him, but she moved in close instead like she was going to embrace him, and then dropped down fast, slipping out of his grip. He grasped at empty air and she was gone, climbing up onto the ledge of the bath so she was at his eye-level. He swivelled around to look grab her, and she spat back into his face, blood in the spit, and then punched him right between the eyes.

Cato fell back against the mirror. It cracked behind his head and he saw nothing but black and red for a second. "Bitch!" he shouted after her, but she was already gone.

He slowly turned to face the mirror. It was broken but still held its shape, a cobweb of cracks and shards. His own bleeding face was reflected back at him from a hundred broken angles.

Cato stood like that for another while, staring at the broken thing before him, still holding the stiff toothbrush lamely in his hand, and he suddenly felt inexplicably lonely.