Unfortunately for them their night was cut short because of the feast the next day. They awoke around 3 AM and began silently preparing themselves. They needed antibacterial medication desperately because Peeta had cut Cato's leg before he escaped and now it was getting infected. Cato said nothing about it but Clove had seen him wince and, knowing how much it took to get him to acknowledge pain, they decided to go for it. And if nothing else, they knew that Katniss would be there for the same reason. This had to end soon. And they wanted it to be on their terms.
Cato didn't want to let Clove go but there was not much of a choice. With his leg being injured he could not run as fast as normal and he was never as quick as Clove to begin with. He felt wary but he knew that when Clove decided something that it was unwise to try to dissuade her. And in any event if the Games did not end soon the infection might get into his blood, and he'd become even more of a liability to Clove.
Clove wasn't worried about the expedition. She knew she was fast enough to get the package and get away unscathed, what she was more concerned about was that she would undoubtedly now have to kill Katniss, and while she didn't like her, she wasn't looking forward to it. They packed up the tent and ate quickly, both alternating between smiles and worried looks.
Cato began,
"Clove, I really don't want you to do this," his voice trailed off at the look on her face. Clove had that hard, determined look on and while he knew it was fruitless, he had to at least try to stop her.
"Cato, don't. I'm going and you know you can't stop me," the hardness in her voice returning, more like the usual shell of herself.
"Clove…" Cato sounded in pain, but not the physical kind. His voice sounded like an ache.
"Cato, you know I have to do this. We can end this. We can go home. Don't you want to go home?" she said this all in a way that would sound understandable to any Capitol citizen or sponsor, but the look in her eyes told him that she was speaking to the him as the girl from last night. Home meant together. Home meant a future. Of course he wanted that.
So Cato nodded and Clove grabbed her knives, securing them into her belt before bending down under the guise of checking his wound. But as her hair covered her face she kissed his forehead and said,
"I'll miss you. Wait here for me."
Cato kissed her lips quickly in reply and she stood up quickly saying,
"You'd better clean out that wound while I'm gone. I'll be back."
Always in character. He had to admire her for that.
Clove walked to the feast and arrived before sun up. She scanned across the mist and saw Katniss just before she started to run to the table. Clove darted through the field, creeping silently, and hit Katniss to the ground before she could run back to the woods. Yes, this was it. This could end now.
Katniss, although good with a bow, was not as strong as Clove and did not have the training to wrestle her. Clove began to taunt her, fully exploiting the cruelty that the Capitol would expect from a career.
But then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure and before she could act, she was wrest in the air by the tribute from 11. He had heard her taunting and taken her seriously, she screamed for Cato but he was so far away, he was supposed to stay at the camp while she got the medicine. But there he was, running towards her, slower because of his limp, as the boy from 11 smashed her head in with a rock and suddenly Clove was on the ground. She heard him say something to Katniss before he ran off but she didn't care. Her head was swimming in pain and she couldn't see straight. Her head was wet but she couldn't think of why. Where was Cato?
She heard something heavy drop besides her and suddenly he was there, gently caressing the side of her face. He had tears in his eyes.
"I'll be okay," she said weakly. She didn't like to see him so upset.
Cato bent over her, appearing to check her head wound but instead putting his forehead to hers, talking quickly.
"Clove! Clove stay here, stay with me, you can do this, this is what we trained for, you can... you can do this," his voice trailed off, repeating assurances to himself that he didn't believe.
"Cato, my head hurts. It hurts Cato," Clove started to cry. She had not cried in front of him since they were nine years old. She never let herself. But she was in so much pain.
"I know, I know honey just hold on a little longer… if I can get you somewhere safe I can get Thresh, and the pair, we can end this, just keep holding on, please," his voice was breaking and becoming more desperate. The pool of blood around Clove's head was expanding too fast. Her breaths were so shallow.
"Cato? You know that I love you right? Did I ever tell you that?" she asked softly, staring into his eyes.
"No baby but I always knew that… I always knew," he couldn't finish the sentence. His throat was too tight.
"Do you remember when we were seven? When we were seven, Cato and you picked me those flowers? From that mean old lady's garden Cato and she got mad, she got so mad…" she trailed off with a shaky laugh. Her eyes were fluttering more often that before. She was fighting to stay with it, but Cato could see how much it was costing her.
Cato forced a laugh, a tear escaping without his notice, "Yeah and she tried to tell my mom, thinking she'd pop me one, but my mom just thanked her and said that they were beautiful?" He was smiling. How was he smiling? His best friend, his love, was dying in his arms. How could she always do this to him?
"I've loved you forever, Cato. I just wish I'd told you sooner," she looked pained with regret.
"No sweetie you told me at the perfect time. It wouldn't… you couldn't have told me sooner…"
This was the one thing he was sure of. If there was one thing he was not remorseful for it was the choices he'd made about her. Everything they'd ever done, he could see now, was to protect the other. They'd done all they could.
"I love you so much, Cato. I'm so glad… I'm so glad I told you."
And then he saw it. The spark that was always in her eyes, her fight, her life, was gone. He saw it leave her and knew now that this was just her shell. He closed her eyelids. There, now she could be sleeping.
He didn't want to leave her. He never wanted to leave her but he knew crying over her body was sure to get his parents killed, and probably hers too. The display of emotion over her dying would be considered acceptable as they kept their voices low, but lingering now would be considered traitorous. Spartans didn't mourn their dead. Neither should he.
So he squeezed her hand one last time and kissed her forehead. He muttered his goodbye. And then he took off into the field after Thresh, sure of one thing. He may have to kill again, but one thing was sure, he was not getting out of this arena alive.