Rewritten 11/9/12. Because I reread it and I wanted to slap myself for writing while high on sugar. Never, ever, ever again. Oh dear heavens, I am so sorry. Gargh.

It boggled his mind why he was rushing speedily across the numerous steps, but something just kept telling him to shut the fuck up and run like his life depended on it. On the countless doors he passed, he knew what floor he was in and how many floors more until he reached the roof. There were 20 floors of hotel rooms and 3 floors for the basement, each floor having 2 flights of stairs to get to the other. From the third basement of the hotel which was the training room to the ground floor, it took 6 flights of stairs, and 40 more to reach his destination.

His legs were moving in such speed and ferocity that the multiple flights of stairs were merely leaps apart. Cato ran aimlessly when he threw Baker Boy aside. He didn't have a damn clue where she could be. It was only until his gut pushed him to sprint to the nearest fire exit and took the long way up.

Cato breathed deeply.

Perspiration seeped into the collar of his shirt but he kept on going. This was more intense of a workout than their actual training for the games. This was agility and speed, and yet this isn't just an exercise—this time he felt that he had a goal more than just getting to the finish line.

He just knew.

He just knew that if he didn't get their soon, something horrible will happen to Katniss.

"You don't get to hit me like that and get away with it."

His fingers grew tighter at the chunk of hair in his hand. Katniss felt her scalp being pulled at as he set her on her feet and yanked her forward. "Just because you're a girl doesn't mean I would go easy on you." His words slithered into her ear.

She held tightly on his wrist and instinctively sunk her nails into his skin and clawed with all her strength. His vehement screams filled her senses and despite being still sore at the stomach, she punched him at the side of his head and kneed him to the floor.

Her feet scurried away, but a strong grip pulled her downward.

Katniss shouted in frustration as she squirmed and fought off Marvel. Her physical strength was almost exhausted and she didn't think she would have enough to continue doing this. But she wasn't going to lose fight. This was probably the most deranged Career she has ever seen and they were in the same Hunger Games. All Careers were killers and maniacs for blood, but not one of them were aroused for beating up people. Not even Cato.

Marvel inched closer and whispered playfully, "Stop fighting."

Her desire to shoot him with an arrow now equals the obsession of the Careers to become Victor. What she learned from watching all those Games from before taught her one thing: exploit all the vulnerabilities of your opponent in all circumstances that present such opportunity. And one thing was vulnerable right now, conveniently placed at the side of her cheek—Marvel's ear.

Katniss did what a captured wild animal would do to break free: she bit hard until she tasted the blood in her mouth.

He wailed and he wailed and tried to pull himself away. And as soon as he was able to separate himself, Katniss felt a hard hit on her face and everything just faded from her sight. She only heard a faint, familiar, but frantic voice echoing in the air until she saw nothing but darkness.

"Katniss!"

The bolted door hung unevenly from its hinges. Cato could hear the creaking of the broken entry way as the numbness of his pained shoulder spread across the blades on his back. Panic was uncharacteristically flowing through his veins.

A thick blanket of blood covered her face and her mop of messy, disheveled curls. Katniss lay on the concrete floor—unconscious and unmoving with her pale lips and bruised face. His sense of hearing suddenly turned mute and his vision lacked any peripheral line of sight. Cato's blue eyes drenched in the body of Katniss, bloodied and battered on cold ground.

His icy gaze followed the movement of Marvel as he stood up from her body. Marvel was spitting nonsense—he was saying all these words that he couldn't hear. All he could see was the blood on his knuckles, the sway of his fingers, and the deep ruby color of her blood caked into his hands.

Marvel stood in front of him now, his hands waving in mock surrender as if everything was just a bad, lame joke.

But it wasn't.

Cato lifted him in the air with his hands tightly wrapped on his neck. The fragile bones were bending against his strength and he could easily crush them—he's done it before. He could hear him choke, lacking air, as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Crouching down, he brought Marvel head first to the floor and hovered over him.

"C-cato! Don't! C-come on. I was just having a little fun."

He sat on his hips and cracked his knuckles. The urge to kill was strong. Marvel continued to cough and pleaded for him to stop. If these were in the Games, he might have laughed because it looked pathetic and weak. But the blood on Marvel's hands blinded him. It enraged and sickened him knowing whose it was.

Cato sneered.

The first hit was the solar plexus, then his liver, then his ribs. A symphony of cracking bones and moans from Marvel provoked a stream of hard, precise jabs. His injuries will all be hidden from the public. Everything will be covered by his shirt and his pants. The bruises and cuts will be seen when he looks in the mirror but the damage will all be internal. He would violently bleed inside until he won't be able to walk nor breathe. No ointment can reach the pain Marvel was about to endure.

He can no longer train, nor can he get a high score for sponsors.

In Cato's eyes, there is no male tribute from District 1. Marvel's as good as garbage.

And once the countdown reaches zero, Marvel will be the first to die.

She woke up screaming.

Her gray eyes were swollen with streaks of tears dripping from her cheeks. Katniss couldn't breathe. Everything came to her in flashes of struggle on the hotel roof and then she can't remember anything else but Marvel on top of her. Oh God.

The corners of her eyes were becoming blurry until the room became distorted. Escaping from her lips was a whimper she felt she has been holding back and she wasn't able to control her sobs. Tears formed a curtain in her vision and every breath she took became a sharp needle of pain in her chest.

"Katniss?" A soft voice called her name.

A door slammed and she turned to the sudden intrusion, unconsciously clutching the sheet closer to her naked body.

Confused, she watched Cato sit beside her and cupped her face. Plastered on him were the same eyes that always tried to scare or annoy people, but this time she didn't know how she felt when she saw them. His thumbs wiped away her tears as he looked on with what looks like concern. "Are you alright? Why did you scream?"

Her brows crinkled in the middle of her face and Katniss couldn't help but cry.

She didn't care that she looked weak right now. Even in front of him. Why was he even here? How did she even get to his room? He didn't have to see any of it. Anyone should shouldn't have seen it-anything of what happened to her.

Warmth enveloped Katniss when strong arms pulled her into an embrace. There was no strength to resist, no words that squeaked any objection. The heat of his body comforted her barely clothed form. She was pressed against his chest and her eardrums could pick up the sound of his steady heartbeat. The pulsating rhythm had pounded softly, flowing through to her senses to try and calm her and make her focus on the cold that slowly left her body.

Her chin rested awkwardly on his shoulder when she heard him heave a sigh. "Hey. Stop crying. I came just in time." Cato struggled to say these encouraging words. They rolled out of his mouth like they were foreign from being said.

Grabbing his biceps, it was she who pulled away. Dazed, she asked with her voice in a tone just above a whisper. "W-what? I don't understand."

Katniss leaned forward too fast and didn't notice the blanket falling from her arms. Cato rushed and put some distance between them to fix the sheet, immediately covering her chest. His fingers were being careful not to touch her more than necessary.

And yet, Katniss didn't even notice what had transpired. She needed to know what happened. She had to know the truth.

It was the first time he was seeing someone so distraught and broken. The bloodcurdling scream still rang in his ears and it shook him to every bone in his body. Cato stopped thinking at that point and just wore a pair of boxers and got out of the shower. Perhaps he was turned on by the fact that Katniss was in his bed again, but seeing her look scared and hurt tugged at his emotions—if anyone could call it that.

Okay, maybe he was a bit worried—no, maybe a lot. He couldn't forget how his heart dropped when he got to the roof. And all that blood and bruises that covered her face and body.

"W-what? I don't understand." She asked him, her voice pleading for an answer.

Cato looked away. Her gray-cerulean eyes twitched some sort of reaction in his stomach so he averted from her face and let his gaze trail on her bare skin. He traced the line of her neck, her shoulders, then her collar bone, and stopped on her chest. It was inappropriate to notice the smooth olive skin with the sheet hung dangerously low to even cover her, especially at this time.

He cleared his throat and fumbled with the blanket to make her look like not a distraction. Pulling his hands away, he found his voice to speak.

"When I found you, you were unconscious. There was a lot of blood and bruises on your face, and Marvel he—his hands had blood on them, they were yours." He put a hand on her shoulder. "I barged in, he was on you, but Marvel hasn't done anything to you…at least not yet."

She grimaced, but he was relieved that she instantly looked calmer.

"Where is he?"

Cato shrugged. "He won't be bothering anyone anymore. Let's just say he got what he deserved and more." If injuring his vital organs and throwing him over several flights of stairs could be described as 'more'. What he deserved to be was dead—and that was going to happen soon enough.

Katniss nodded in understanding and placed her palms on her lap. She seemed nervous as she bit her lip. "You found me. How?"

Sensing himself smirk, he gave her an answer in his usual arrogance. "Instinct." Cato caught her smile a bit but she frowned at the second he noticed.

She raised her head to look him in the eye, her face devoid of any emotion. "Why?"

Cato sat up.

He didn't know. He didn't understand why he felt like he needed to find her, aside from the reason being he hasn't seen her since breakfast. A voice echoed in his head that got him all weirded out and bothered. After training, he just had to ask Baker Boy, then his legs just kinda knew where to go.

They remained silent for a few minutes just staring at each other, and Katniss remained still when he didn't even blink. It was then that he had a good look of her face. Her round eyes were clouded with wonder and disorientation that made them doe-like, just barely hidden in long, curly eyelashes. And her lips were luscious and plump—a dark cherry pink that made him lick his own. He only realized that he was staring for so long when she shifted in place.

Sensing that perhaps she needed some time alone, Cato stood up to leave. She probably didn't have the energy to up with him. "Get some sleep. Your body should at least be sore."

When she didn't respond, he turned to walk away. Taking a few steps, he looked back.

Cato faced her again and told her with a straight face. "Uh...I put some meds on your injuries. I know you mind being naked, but I just had to make sure there were none left so I had to bathe you too. You should be thanking me, 12." He shook off the embarrassing confession and led himself to the door.

She had nodded silently, maybe it was in thanks, maybe it was in understanding, but he couldn't care less. Talking tomorrow would be best. His head shot up in her direction and an instinctive protectiveness had peaked in his system. With her head hung low, it was pretty obvious she was still thinking about it, and it didn't help that the still visible cuts and bruises despite the healing ointment were readily seen on her fingers and her hands with which she used to fight back.

He must admit to himself that this was her lowest point that he has seen of her, and it affected him so much that she was vulnerable. When he first met her, she seemed like a runt—a weakling. And then things just got so crazy that he got forced to get to know her. Katniss was strong emotionally and physically. When she threw punches, it hurt where she hit, but obviously not as strong as he does it—and Marvel can attest to that.

It mattered at that moment that he was debating when last night she could barely stand him kissing her, let alone touching her.

His bare feet moved on its own volition to the opposite side of the room. Reason told him not to, and yet, the immediate response of his body just went on its way beside her. Cato came directly to the empty side of the bed and went under the covers. Placing a pillow between them, he carefully positioned himself at his side, facing the wall and closed his eyes, just hoping that there would be no screaming tonight and no kicking him off the bed in the morning.

It was bizarre that he never felt more awkward, terrified, and smug—but at ease—all at the same time.

Nothing had happened. Nothing.

It had been a nightmare storming in her mind and her dream, yet now, only a wisp of air had blown itself out of her lips in relief. She had equally nothing to say. Now she has felt the blood streaming through her veins and the horrible thoughts slip away. Even the pain that she had incurred in fighting Marvel felt numb. The cuts were clotting, and the bruises have limited to being yellowish spots on her arms and skin-all except the bruise on her stomach which throbbed when she had moved too fast.

Cato had saved her. It was the truth that she would rather not be the case but it was.

Turning carefully to her side, she peeked at the back of his head. The steadiness of breath she could hear as an indication of his being asleep. Gratitude to him on any other day will inevitably sicken her, but now, she was thankful. Thankful for his instinct that found her, for his strength that had saved her and carried her here, and for giving her the ointment and cleaning of the blood. Cato didn't have to do it but he did, and because of that, she was alive and untouched.

Her eyes lingered at his blonde hair, the wide expanse of his back, and the broadness of his shoulders. She squinted at the dimness of the barely lit room, but she couldn't miss the red violet patch of skin marring the area of his bicep to the shoulder blade at his right side.

Alarmed at the sight, carefully, she had traced the ugly mark with the tips of her fingers. Katniss must have poked a sensitive spot when Cato had jolted awake in a second and roughly grabbed her wrist.

"What the fuck?!"

She didn't say anything, her eyes impulsively landing on the bad swelling on his shoulder.

Cato had followed her line of vision and snorted as he released his hold "This is nothing. And it doesn't concern you. Go back to sleep."

Whatever he was suppressing from telling her, it didn't stop her from being curious. He was glaring at her right now, and she challenged it with a blank look. The lines of his eyebrows deepened as he boiled in anger. "Well? Aren't you going to sleep?"

"I can't sleep." The blue of his eyes demanded her to do as he says, but she lingered at the sight of the bruise.

He made an annoyed sound and shook his head. "Okay, fine. I broke the fire exit door on the way to the roof. It was locked because apparently, people from the Capitol don't like using the stairs. And that's how I got this." Cato flashed the big bruise again. "Satisfied? Now shut up and sleep like a normal person would at this time."

With that, he dropped on his pillow and covered himself with the blanket. It was obvious that he wasn't able to sleep right away. But nevertheless, Katniss lay down and absentmindedly looked at the ceiling. She understood completely that he climbed the stairs all the way from the bottom floor where they trained and that he hurt himself trying to get to her. She understood that maybe words wouldn't be enough.

She had thought then of the promise of his word-of fulfilling his end of the deal and more. She remembered her stubbornness with playing along and what he had repaid it with, or rather what he did for her despite what she was doing to him. This morning, he had asked from her a kiss, and perhaps to thank him, that was what she should do.

Mustering up all her courage, Katniss crossed the pillow barrier and pulled him down to a prone position. He clicked his tongue in annoyance and his blue eyes never seemed as furious. It was that look he gave her when they first met in the elevator and he looked genuinely angry. It was that look that scared the bones out of everyone.

But before he could even say a word, Katniss pressed her lips on his.

She only meant it as a chaste kiss, and not the open-mouthed ones he usually does, but still, it was like the feeling she got this morning—like her brain went blank and woozy. The plan was to smack him for a really short time, but with Cato, he took it to another dimension. Her mind counted five seconds when his hands were already on her neck and her cheek—and she had to pull away.

Katniss left him with surprise just written all over his face. She shook herself inwardly and laid on her side, avoiding to face him. Silence filled the room, as if both were already asleep.

Katniss covered herself more of the blanket quietly, neutralizing the rapid beating of her heart. It was at the next moment when she felt the absence of the pillow on her back and felt his bare chest pressed against it. His arm gently curled around her waist and pulled her close. Never in her life that she felt so uncomfortable, and yet at the same time she knew it was doing something fair and just.

Letting her eyes flutter closed, she dozed in peace.

How was this rewrite?

I think this is way better than the fluff (the fluff, which I reiterate, happened when I was in a sugar rush and I wasn't thinking straight).