Disclaimer: I do NOT own anything of Suzanne Collins', from 'The Hunger Games', and the next two books of the trilogy. ( 'Catching Fire' and 'Mockingjay')... especially the characters.
(Warning: Character deaths ahead.)
Chapter Eleven:
She dropped her silver bow, and tried to sit up. But she couldn't move. Her body felt like a dead weight, it didn't yield to her. Her dislocated arm now hung loosely in the air, the fingers reached out towards the brunette who was laying splayed out on the ground. Her hazel eyes staring blankly into her silver ones.
The mutts were gone, except for three of them. Two were dead, and one was whimpering as it still tried to dislodge the knife out of its eye.
She felt something behind her. The branch seemed to sway as more weight was added to it. She didn't have to turn to know who it was. He was the only one she had left now; until they could find Peeta and Foxface.
'Yeah… there's still Peeta and Foxface out there,' her thoughts said. That thought running through her head, motivated her muscles enough to strain themselves against the pain and push her into a sitting spot. With one arm, as her right one, was completely useless until she could get Cato to pop it back into its socket.
Her head was fuzzy. And she felt out of focus, like she were just watching out of someone else's body.
"Come on," Cato commanded distantly. He wrapped his arm around her waist, and helped her wrap her good arm around his neck. He slowly climbed them down the tree, and set her down at the base of it. He stood up abruptly, and swung around. He grabbed his sword. The wild glint entered his eye.
She remembered that look. She saw it the night after the Parade. And she had to keep herself from letting a shiver overcome her. She hated that look. she concluded.
Cato was stalking towards the struggling mutation. The big bear like paws still scratching away at its one empty eye socket. Whines and growls could be heard from its jaws. Its ears twitched as Cato got closer. and it turned its massive head in Cato's direction. It stopped clawing at its face, and began to snarl at Cato, while it got up onto its feet and got ready to pounce on him.
She saw the way Cato twisted the sword in his hand, then tighten his grip on the handle. His knuckles turning white. His body was strung tight like a brand new bow. And his string looked ready to snap out at any moment.
One minute he was just standing right in front of the mutt, the next all she saw was the gleaming flash of the blade shooting out as the mutt leaped.
He huffed out a angered breath. His best friend was dead. Yes, he knew it would happen eventually. But he had hoped that she would have made it farther along with him and Katniss. But at least she went out on her own terms, she stabbed the mutt in the eye with her favorite knife. And she nodded to Katniss to take her out.
He yanked his sword out of the heap of fur and blood. Blood had splattered everywhere. As soon as Marvel's mutt look-a-like lunged at him, he rammed his sword into the jointing parts where its neck and shoulders met. The mutt went down, but it didn't stop him from hacking away at it, until he beheaded the monstrosity.
Before he could turn away from the mess he made, an arm circled his waist and hugged him tightly.
Cato's back stiffened at the contact; until he heard her muttering words under her breath.
"You're not a monster. You're okay. You're not a monster." Katniss repeated them over and over, hugging his waist. Her eyes were screwed shut. It was as if Cato was her last string of sanity to hang onto. Cato twisted around, dropping his sword, and enveloped her in his arms. He laid his chin on the top of her head, and wrapped his arms around her small body.
Cato never really thought about it really. But he never considered Katniss small, she was tall and thin. But in his arms she was so small and so fragile. Like Clove she had a no nonsense attitude. And their personalities were so bright and ferocious; that describing them small, fragile, or weak was a big no-no.
"FireKat?" Cato murmured, quietly in her ear. She tightened her grip in response, causing him to chuckle drily. "You know Fishboy isn't going to like to see you hugging me."
Katniss grunted. "Well, Fishboy needs to stop being jealous," she snapped.
Cato laughed. "Oh, so you're not oblivious to his advances?"
She snorted. "Finn isn't the most subtle person in the world." Was all she said.
He pulled away, reluctantly. He then noticed her biting her bottom lip, and the arm that hung like a cut off marionette's.
He raised an eyebrow at her.
"When are you going to learn to ask for help?"
Katniss glared at him, looking to retort, but Cato gripped the dislocated arm. And she hissed out.
"Damn it, Two…" she cursed, reverting back to his old nickname.
Cato rolled his ice blue eyes. "Quit being a baby, Twelve," he taunted.
He didn't have to glance up to know that she was giving him a death glare.
"Stop glaring. You're going to get stuck that way, and how will Finnick survive then?"
"Just snap it back into the socket. Its weighing down on my right side, and I don't need to be stuck walking lopsided for the rest of my life." He could hear the irritation in her voice. He wondered why she wasn't reacting to Clove's death, like she did with Rue's.
"But what's the magic word?" He asked, clucking his tongue mockingly.
"..."
"I'm waiting," he said, batting his eyelashes at her.
"... please, Cato."
"There we go," he cheered. In one quick precise movement, he pulled her right arm, and it snapped back into its socket. The sickening crunch of the bone as it aligned itself back in its spot, caused them both to wince.
"Thanks," she whispered, distantly.
Cato looked up into her silver eyes. "You're welcome," he answered.
It wasn't until he looked into her eyes that he realized what she was doing. To keep from feeling the pain that Clove's loss caused to both of them, she was shoving it to the farthest corner of her mind. She wasn't going to acknowledge it. Cato saw how Katniss was zoning out, and nudged her back into the presence.
"Flowers?" He questioned.
She didn't need to ask why. She knew. She grabbed his hand and started to pull him into the direction of the wildflowers.
They needed to honor another fallen friend.
"They're speeding the games along," Haymitch grunted. His forefinger and his thumb on his right hand, rubbed the bristles on his unshaven face. His stood in front of the main screen, focused solely on the duo.
"Of course they are. There's only three of them left," Enobaria hiccuped. Her eyes were drawn and tainted red. Her face seemed strained, and she lost a few shades of color over the past 24 hours.
Haymitch nodded, morosely.
They had discovered Foxface's and Peeta's deaths as soon as their cannons sounded. They whirled to the next screen in time to see their two bodies laying out among the green lush grass. One of their hands clutching together, fingers entwined. While their other had dark purplish stains on the pads of the fingers and palms. Same stains were on their lips and corner of their mouths. Their glazed over gazes staring up into the canopies above, where the sun had shone through.
Annie was sitting in front of the screen; tears leaking down her face as her whole body trembled. The headset still placed upon her head, as her fingers knotted into her dark brown and auburn streaked hair. The tendrils of hair twisted around her hands in a vicious grip that they all winced at the image of their fellow Victor relapsing into her bouts of insanity.
Finnick had placed his hand onto her shoulder, firmly. Wanting to make it known to her that he was there. When Annie slowly came out of it, she just stared at the two dead tributes on the screen, with eyes made of water. Mags had her into her arms, and rubbing her withered hands soothingly down Annie's arms and back. And Annie recuperated by burrowing herself into the older woman's warm embrace.
Now, Annie and Mags were still on District Four's floor in the Training Center. Everyone else were back on their floor except for him, Brutus, Enobaria, Seeder, and Chaff… and Finnick. The latter was unconscious on one of the chairs. His legs bent over one arm of the chair; while his arms were thrown behind him. Left hand hanging limply over the top of the chair, and the other over the other arm of the chair. His mouth was slightly gaping as he snored lightly. His bronze hair even more ruffled, the dark bruises for bags under his eyes were more prominent against the paleness of his naturally tanned skin.
His lips body twitched, and his fingers curled in his sleep.
It was the first time they've seen him sleep in the last week.
Haymitch pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed, and head bent.
"Sweetheart doesn't know Breadboy and Foxface are dead, yet, Enobaria." The knowledge of that made the District Two Victors snap up. Confusion clouded the expressions on their faces; but Brutus recovered faster than his partner.
He knocked his head backwards on the headrest of his seat, glaring up at the ceiling and a twisted grin and frown on his face.
"Those damn mutts," he growled.
Haymitch nodded, bitterly. Clove, Cato, and Katniss wouldn't pay attention to any cannons when they were getting attacked by the mutations. If they heard them, then it was far at the back of their minds. They wouldn't have time to focus on that little fact, when they were climbing up a tree to keep from letting those beasts clamp their jaws onto their lives.
Enobaria was staring at the screen, lost in her thoughts once again. Brutus reached out, his large, calloused hand landing on top of the one on her knee. He squeezed her hand, comfortably, losing himself inside his head also.
"She's doing it, again."
The voice nearly startled him. He had forgotten that Seeder was there, as she hadn't really spoken since the death of her Tribute. Chaff, he knew, was asleep. As far as he could tell by that guttural snoring he was hearing from the other side of the room. Haymitch had a urge to either dump ice cold water over his sleeping form or pour some liquor down his open mouth, and see the results. But Haymitch snorted to himself. 'He probably would swallow it in his sleep.' Thinking back to one of the times Chaff visited him in District Twelve.
Haymitch tilted his head in Seeder's direction, asking silently what she met.
"She and Cato are putting flowers around Clove. Just like she did for our Rue," Seeder answered, quietly. Haymitch looked back to the screen, and discovered that Seeder was right. She had Cato carrying an armful of colorful wildflowers behind her, as she placed them around the dead girl from Two.
Haymitch shook his head, silently praying that there wouldn't be another visit from Snow. Or any other warning. She would be too lost when she got back, too out of it to comprehend what Snow would be planning for her. She was too young. She was almost seventeen. But he knew that she knew a lot more, and lived through a lot more, than was normal for any other teenage girl.
He swapped his attention for the bronze haired man, laying unconscious in his chair. He hoped for the sake of everyone; especially for Fishboy and Sweetheart, that he will be able to break through the walls that Haymitch knew were being built inside Sweetheart's head… and around her heart.
"Do you ever wonder what we did in our past lives to deserve this?"
Haymitch was struck by the sudden question. Haymitch had thought he had been asleep still. But when he looked closely, he noticed the familiar sea green eyes open and gazing at the screen in front of him.
District Twelve's Mentor watched Fishboy, silently contemplating the same exact words Sweetheart had asked, not long before she went into The 74th Annual Hunger Games. She and Fishboy were more alike, than he had originally thought. He just hoped it was enough for when she got out of the Games.
There was a long pause, before Haymitch deemed it worthy to answer Finnick's question.
"All the time," he stated, hoarsely.
Finnick only hummed, nodding his head in resignation.
"They're dead."
Katniss stared up at the Capitol's emblem across the sky. Recounting the fallen of the day. The Capitol's anthem echoed in her head, harshly. Peeta and Foxface were dead. Her and Cato had spent the whole day looking for them. She had felt stupid searching, and she had a nagging feeling that Cato knew what had happened. He looked far more resigned, like he was ready to take whatever Fate threw at him.
But with Peeta and Foxface gone. That only left her, Cato, and Thresh. She didn't know what to do. She didn't want to lose Cato. She had already too many of her friends. All she wanted to do was scream up at the sky, and break down. But she couldn't. She had to remain strong. She couldn't let anyone down.
"Yeah… they are, aren't they?" Cato said, distantly. His ice blue eyes unfocused. But she could tell by the look on his face that he was desperately trying to hold onto whatever sanity he had left. But like her, he was too tired.
She reached out, and slipped her hand into his. And he clutched it like his life depended on it. His fingers wrapping themselves around hers, afraid to let go; because if he did, he felt she would disappear.
"You're going home, tomorrow," he whispered. He wasn't looking at her. He was content with having a staring contest with the ground. He felt Katniss's stare on the side of his face. But he still refused to look at her in the eye.
"What are you talking about?"
Cato let out a hoarse chuckle. "Don't act surprised, FireKat. You should have had known at one point, that we were planning to get you out, all along."
He felt the muscles in her hand stiffen like the rest of her. And could practically sense the torrent of emotions going through her at the moment.
"What did we do to deserve this?" She finally asked.
Cato let out a silent breath of relief.
He shrugged, lightly. "I don't know. I started asking myself that question when I met you."
She was silent for a few moments, before stating.
"You changed."
"I know."
"Why?"
"You and Clove would have beaten my ass otherwise," he answered, seriously. Causing a smile to slowly trail its way across the recently unfamiliar path of her lips.
"True," Katniss said.
"To be honest. You two beat my ass, anyway." Cato stretched out his legs, rolling back his shoulders, and popping the sore muscles in his neck.
Katniss huffed, silver eyes narrowing. "You were getting too cocky. We didn't like it."
Cato chuckled. He turned to look at the side of her face.
"Promise me something," he called to her.
She looked back at him, cautiously; but nodded.
"Promise me that you will beat Fishboy's ass for me, when he gets too cocky," he said.
Katniss smiled.
"Always… and I'll even get Johanna to help me."
Cato smirked, finally in satisfaction. The sight of that familiar expression upon her friend's face, eased her nerves a bit.
"Good," he breathed out. They both turned back their attentions to either the sky or the trees, their hands still clasped together.
"You don't believe you deserve her!"
Johanna stared at him in disbelief. Her eyebrows raised too high, he was afraid they would reach her hairline and get stuck there. Her jaw dropped; but then she snapped it back into place. And he saw the anger simmering underneath her skin, and in her eyes. He just stared at her. He had gotten back from another appointment, and he would never get used to that dirty feeling and self loathing that he felt after he got back from one. He wore no emotion on his face.
"So, what?" She gritted out. Her jaw grinding her molars together, causing him to wince internally. He hated when she did that.
"What?" He said.
If it were possible. Her glare seemed to intensify.
"What do you mean… what? Are you just going to leave her? Just like that?" She growled.
He didn't respond. He didn't know how to respond to that. He just didn't know anymore.
Johanna gave a small shriek. Throwing up her arms, she screamed into his face.
"MAYBE THAT SHOULD BE ANOTHER REASON WHY I CALL HER BRAINLESS!"
He stood up from his seat. "What are you talking about?"
Johanna huffed, her chest heaving, and her whole body tense. She looked ready to pounce on him, and tear him limb from limb. Her hands were shaking terribly, and she visibly reached out into the air, and started to choke it as if it were a real person.
"Oh? What am I talking about, Fish Brains? Who's the girl you started to have feelings for? Who's the girl who has become something to all of us in the past several weeks leading up to this damn thing? Oh, I know! That girl is in this years' fucking games! Losing the friends she came to care about, and getting more lost by each passing day! But you know what? The person she started to have feelings for, whether she knows it or not… just decided that he didn't deserve her. And right now, I don't even want to know this Finnick Odair." With that, she spun on her heel and left the room.
Finnick stared into the open air. Not realizing when another person walked into the room. Until they spoke.
"Finnick?"
He winced.
"Yes, Annie?"
She didn't say something for awhile, but when he turned he saw her deep in thought and clutching something to her chest. She raised her head, and slowly met his eyes with her own with determination.
"Don't leave Katniss, Finnick. She's going to need you the most. She can't be strong all the time. And I know out of everything and everyone, you belong with her. You need her as much as she needs you." Annie walked over to where he sat.
Finnick sighed. "Did you ever given thought that maybe there is someone out there better for My Fiery Goddess, than I am?"
Annie just stared at him with those exquisite sea blue green colored eyes.
"Then she wouldn't be your Fiery Goddess, then. Now, would she?"
Finnick sent her a questioning gaze, not understanding what she was getting at.
Annie placed something in his open palm, and closed his fingers over the cool smooth metal with her hands.
"Did you ever think that maybe you don't get to decide on the matter, Finn?" She asked.
"What do you mean?"
She took a deep breath, releasing it slowly.
"There shouldn't be much confusion there, Finn. She's her own person. She gets to decide whether you don't deserve her or not," she said.
A few moments after she left the room; leaving him alone again. He opened his palm to find a pendant that fit perfectly in the center of his palm. One side had all blues, and greens of the ocean, with some bronze splashed together. While the other half was a whirlwind of vibrant oranges, reds, and yellows of fire. The ocean half had a trident, and the number Four on it. The side with the vibrancy of flames had a silver Mockingjay with the number Twelve.
Both cool and warm colors blended together perfectly. And his fingers traced the engravings along the bottom of it.
'Her Fishboy. His Fiery Goddess.'
A faint smile made it onto his chapped lips. He rested his head back into the chair, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't open the clasp to see what was inside the locket. He didn't need to. It was for Katniss. He knew that Annie had help from Beetee, Wiress and some others to make the necklace. It suited him and Katniss perfectly. It accented their background, and who they were to one another in just a few words and splashes of color.
Finnick shut his eyes, breathing in deeply through his nostrils.
Johanna was right.
He really was Fish Brains.
Twigs snapped underneath her mud clad boots. The silver bow swung on her arm as she sprinted. The metal hitting the side of her face, and jabbing into her side painfully. Ragged breaths being drawn out through her parched throat; each breath scorched the sides of her windpipes. She heard her haggard breathing in her ears. The burning in her thighs, and arms as she continued to push forward.
Snarls were heard behind her. She jetted off towards the Cornucopia as soon as the first howl was heard. The Gamemakers brought the mutts back out. Her heart was racing, and leaping ahead hysterically. Cato was gone. She woke up from her nap by the sound of the cannon. She didn't know if it was Thresh's or Cato's; but as soon as that cannon pierced the air. The howls erupted.
Her silver eyes scanned the trees ahead of her.
'Come on, come on.' She thought. The right side of her face was hot, and stung from the continuously lashes it was getting from her bow. She could already feel the bruises. And the familiar warm slickness of blood sliding down her skin.
She could practically feel the hot breath of the remaining mutts behind her. This was it. The final moments of the 74th Annual Hunger Games. And she was alone, again.
Katniss finally broke through into the clearing, and stretched out her legs farther, to close the distance between her and sanctuary. She had made it halfway there, when three mutts had broken through the foliage. A few colorful words entered her mind, that she was sure Johanna would have been proud of.
She grappled for a ledge on the Cornucopia, when she leaped onto the side of it. Her boots slipped, and her body staggered. Her arms strained as she pulled herself mostly by her arms. The blunt ends of her nails scratched at the steel, and tried to find some friction to stop her from falling down. When she finally managed to make herself halfway up; a sharp shattering pain went through her calve.
Katniss shrieked. Her body shaking, and sweat formulating onto her scarred skin. She kicked, trying to get the mutation off her leg. But it only resulted in having the teeth go in deeper. Her lips pulled back in pain. Her arms struggled to keep her in place, as the mutt whipped its massive head back and forth with her leg.
When she thought the beast would manage to shake her off, the grip on her leg vanished. She felt the sudden chill of the air on her ragged, raw calf. She couldn't move it. When she glanced down for a quick analysis, the sight almost made her regurgitate whatever was left in her stomach. To be frank, that's what it looked like to her, anyway.
"Come on, FireKat." The familiar voice urged. The person's arms grabbing her from under her arms, and lifting her up on top of the Cornucopia.
"You're a… jerk," Katniss gasped out. She was laid onto her back, staring up into icy blue eyes, and a smug smirk.
"Best insult you can come up with?" He questioned. He shook his head, disappointingly.
She glared at him.
"You left without saying goodbye… you ass!" She choked out. Some blood had started to pool at the back of her throat. Cato sat her up, his eyes drawn and tired.
"I know," he sighed.
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes; but still glared evenly at him.
He looked into her eyes. "I'm sorry."
She examined his face for some time, before saying.
"No, you're not."
He laughed hollowly at that. "I know."
"I thought you were dead," she whispered. Staring brokenly at him.
His gaze softened. "I know."
She launched her weak body into his, her arms winding around his neck. He returned the embrace, burying his nose into the side of her neck.
He mumbled, "I care about you."
"... I know," she said, softly.
"I want you to keep a promise for all of us, Kat." he said.
"Okay,"she murmured.
"Give Snow hell for us… promise us that. Promise you'll get back at him for everything that he's done."
"I promise," Katniss vowed.
Cato leaned back, and took her face in his hands. Ice blue boring into steel silver.
"Okay?"
"Okay."
He then quickly pressed his lips against her cold ones, before she could react. His usual smirk in place, when he pulled back.
"You wouldn't have kissed me, otherwise," he grinned, somewhat sadly.
It was then that Katniss knew that that was his way of telling her goodbye. He was getting too close to the edge of the Cornucopia. And the mutts were still jumping and leaping, their claws scratching and scraping against the metal. Their snarls grew louder, once they saw the back of Cato's body.
He stood there. His blonde spikes limp and matted with dirt, sweat, and blood. Same went for his clothing. They were soiled and stained with all the killings that he managed to accomplish. Eye swollen and bruised. Lip busted, and swelling. His face looked like a mural of black, red, and blue. The only thing that remained the same about him was the way he looked at her, and smirked. He was going to go out on his own terms. She knew that determined glint in his eyes. It was the same one she saw when Clove let go of her hand.
He spread his arms and legs out. He smirked challengingly at her.
"One more arrow, Twelve. One more kill. Come on, you can do it," he said.
He saw the reluctance and impending fear in her eyes. And he smiled, encouragingly at her.
"FireKat… I'd rather you shoot an arrow through my heart, than any of those mutts grabbing a hold of my sexy self."
Her finger shook for her bow and her last silver arrow.
Cato nodded his head. "You can still do this. Just one more kill, Kat. Just one more, I promise."
A few minutes later. Cato's cannon went off.
A/N:
I don't know what to think, right now.
But I guess that wraps up the 74th Annual Hunger Games.
What should happen next? I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter; and favorite, follow, and review! It means a lot, and I love the support for this story. I love you all! And tell me how I did!
Until next time…