A/N- SugarCakes123- I wanted to respond to your review to say thanks. But it seems that your PM feature isn't working. Just know I appreciate it, even if I couldn't say thanks, okay?

Chapter Thirteen

I jump. Leo and Veronica start fussing, and Marcia takes them from my arms. Setting them down in their cradles, she hugs me. "I'm sorry, Clove. I can stay here with these two until you get back. I'll call Mom, of you'd like. Whatever you need."

I nod. "Stay here. Have Mom meet you. I'll call with updates."

She stares at me for a moment. "Okay. Will you be alright?"

My eyes can't meet hers when I answer. "Yeah. Yeah, we both will be. Thanks for looking after them."

She nods. "It's no problem. Just go. We will be fine."

She's right, they'll be okay. I kiss the babies on the tops of their heads, thank Marcia one more time, and break into a run.

The training center is a tall, gray building that stands nearly at the exact center of the district. Luckily, Victor's Village isn't too far away. It takes me around eight minutes after the call to get to the center.

No one is outside. But when I get in through the double doors, I can tell that nothing is as it should be.

'Stay calm,' I tell myself, running towards the staircase that will bring me to the third floor main gym, where in nearly certain Cato was teaching. 'Stay calm. Maybe Marcia misunderstood? Maybe something was wrong, but it's fixed now. Maybe I'm just overreacting. Stay calm.

There is another hallway after I get off of the initial set of stairs. Ignoring the stares and whispers of some of the younger kids poking their heads out to watch me, I run. Its a clear 200 yards with no bends, curves, or obsticles. This is the exact sort of sprint my body was built for. But despite that fact, I just can't seem to go fast enough.

One more staircase and another shorter hallway is standing between myself and my entry. But then, finally, here I am.

Slamming into the door, I stumble into the room, only to be held back by one of the trainers. I'm not strong or large enough to push past. 'Don't panic,' I convince myself one more time. 'Call five times. Then you can.' And so I try.

First time, no response.

Second, nothing.

Third time. I start to take in the sounds of the room, though I'm not making out what anybody is saying.

Forth time. I squeeze back tears, and prepare mysethe for the possibility that something really bad did happen.

Fifth time. His name comes out as a tiny, defeated squeak. The adrenaline pounding through my veins comes to a halt when there is no answer. It adds an edge to my bubbling emotions, but makes the noises in the room much clearer. Bits of dialogue swirl around me as I slip out of the trainer's loosening grasp.

"Seemed like an ordinary concussion-"

"Mostly unresponsive-"

"Possible transfer to the Capitol-"

A streak of warmth coats my left cheek, and I realize that I'm crying for the first time in a while. To my surprise, it's my ex-mentor, Marilla, who approaches me first.

"Clove, we need to talk."

This is exactly what she said to me about eleven months ago. Cato had caught a brain-dissolving amoeba during the Games, and that is what she said before she told be. Pushing Marilla away, I shake my head. "No, no. Don't say that. Its nothing like before. It can't be like before. It will never be that way again. No, please, don't."

She holds my hand and looks at me. "Clove, do you remember what Alexandria, the neurologist from the Capitol, said about the antibiotics to treat N. fowleri sometimes causing tissue damage? Well, there hasn't been any sort of examination, but they're speculating that that is the problem."

Weirdly enough, this calms me. They know, to some extent what is going on. Alexandria said that this can be fixed. But still, my throat feels dry. "What happened?"

"Just a normal training exercise," Marilla explains. "He was demonstrating a concept, I'm not sure what, and slipped. At first, he was just showing the signs of any ordinary concussion. And passing out for a moment would be normal. But at the point in time we called you, it had been two minutes, and he didn't wake up. As of right now, they're saying he is unresponsive. But it seems like his vital signs are strong and regular."

I nod. "Where is he? And can I see him?"

Without another word, Marilla takes me into the small clinic built into the gym. It's come in handy over the years for sure. Marital brings me to the door, and waits outside. When I enter, I find Cato lying in between to unfamiliar trainers, who I assume are both monitoring his symptoms. Pressing my way between the two of them, I stand next to Cato.

"Hi," I whisper, taking one of his hands in mine. Sure enough, Marilla was right. He is still unresponsive. "Not feeling so good, huh? Don't you worry about a thing. It's all going to be okay, you'll see." I want to keep up a positive conversation after this. I don't mind what anyone around me thinks, this worked the first time. "Veronica did the cutest little thing while you were gone..."

Eventually I am interrupted by Marilla coming back in. "Clove, they really want to transfer him back to the Capitol, just in case. The neurologist there is more familiar with the after effects of N. Fowleri than anybody else in Panem. All we need is your consent."

"Yes. Bring us there."