I closed my eyes, ready for the blow. I'll die for my uncaring nature, I thought. I'll die because I've never truly loved. I'm just guilty.

But the blow never came. I opened my eyes in silent astonishment, wincing back into the cold steel of the Cornucopia, ready to try to block out as much pain as possible. Instead, I saw Cato pushing Kes away roughly, a cold look in his now dull blue eyes. I shivered at the intensity he put into his fighting; he landed a crushing blow to Kes's sternum. Kes stumbled, losing enough grip on the sword for Cato to bat it away. Kes was strong- probably stronger than Cato-, but that didn't matter. Cato's skill overpowered any advantage he had over him. Kes was at his strongest when he was hiding. He could hear you, smell you, know exactly where you were at. In close combat with a skilled opponent, however... he was as good as dead.

Kes knew this. He backed away from Cato, noticing the murderous glint in his eyes. Cato slid his sword more firmly in his grasp, determination shining in his aura. I shuddered. It wasn't flaming, hot, or angry like his aura normally was- it was cold, distant, resigned. Like he knew he didn't have to do this, but he was still doing it out of obligation. Looking around, I noticed Rinata ran off and Thresh's mutilated body was nowhere to be found. I don't think I heard a cannon...

Kes continued to back away, Cato following behind steadily. When Kes was a good enough distance away, Cato stopped and locked his eyes on his retreating form. As soon as he reached the edge of the forest, he turned and sprinted into the coverage. Cato's shoulders noticeably slumped.

Turning to me, his eyes were fiery yet dull at the same time. He was angry with me, for obvious reasons- it was partially my fault Clove was dead. I was in the battle, however little I fought. Yet they were dull and lifeless, characteristic of a man who just lost something important to him. "Get up," Cato ordered, his voice hoarse. He looked so collected. I wondered how he did it; I was a screaming mess when Kinn and Lizzli died. No matter what I wondered, I obeyed. Cato was a serious pain in the ass when he was angry.

I stood slowly, my pride smarting from the obvious laughs Panem was getting out of this whole ordeal. They didn't see a self-sacrificial little lamb; they saw a weak, self-preserving killer waiting for her knight in shining armor to show up to save the day. Some may find it endearing, but I knew my previous sponsors would find it tasteless. I could practically hear them scoff. Whore. Liar. Betrayer.

It made my blood boil in anger, but I let it slide. We'll see who laughs when I win and skewer every last one of you.

Cato tugged me into the Cornucopia just as it started to rain. I heard the whirring of cameras as the Gamemakers rushed to zoom in on us.

All was silent. The rain made a low roaring sound against the ground and Cornucopia, but it wasn't near as loud as I would have guessed. Cato held out an arm to me, seeing me shiver once. Despite my hesitation, I reluctantly agreed, knowing he wouldn't try anything in his current state of mind, anyway. I scooted closer to him and let him wrap an arm around me, tugging me to his side. I could tell he was still mourning by the way he was tense even when I touched him, as though I, too, would turn on him and try to kill him.

For once in my life, I didn't know what to die. So when his hands clenched sporadically around my arms, almost to the point of pain, I didn't push him away. If he could grin and bear it when he was in pain, so could I. Both mentally and physically, Cato was stronger than me. Somehow, that bothered me. I hated feeling like the weak one; solution? Become strong, too.

I heard his breath quicken and slow every once in awhile. Normal people would have tried to comfort him. However, this didn't seem like a normal circumstance. Cato was brutal, bloody Cato, and I was a ruthless muttation. Comfort didn't fit into our agenda in the Capitol's eyes, yet we needed it so badly. So instead of saying 'I'm sorry' or 'do you want to talk about it?' like a normal person would, I clenched my hand fitfully everytime he did, letting him know I understood. My nails dug into his arm, and I gave him the only comfort he knew. Physical pain. Sweet, sweet distraction.

Blood pooled up beneath my fingertips, but he didn't let up with his squeezing, so neither did I. When he was done, I was done. It was that simple.

Finally, in the dead of night, his hand relaxed and he leaned against the inside of the metal structure, seemingly defeated. I leaned into him, resting my head on his chest. Up down, up down, his breathing moved his chest. I moved my hands from his arms to fit around his waist, letting him know I was still there. Cato placed a hand on my head, fingers running through my hair. It was such a gentle moment, so uncharacteristic of both of us. But we both so desperately needed this time to relax and realize we still had allies in these games. Despite how many times I betrayed him, it would always end up that I was with him.

We had this attraction, like magnets. It was impossible to resist. Even if I did resist the pull, who would I leave with? Katniss? Peeta? Thresh? No, Cato would murder them all before they could ever even come close. Katniss and Peeta aren't huge threats, anyway, and Thresh was more than likely badly injured since Rinata finished with him. Besides... did I actually want to leave with anyone else? No.

All Katniss was, was a little distraction from the inevitable. And I was completely okay with that.

"We'll win," Cato said, almost making me jump for the breach in the silence. After a moment of consideration, I nodded.

"Of course," I murmured, burying my face in his shirt. It was crazy just how exhausting these Games could be; of course I wasn't expecting to breeze through them, but I was expecting at least brief intervals of sleep. Truth be told, I'd barely gotten any. "Now let me sleep. I have to kill my best friend tomorrow."

I could feel him go still with my words, and I couldn't help but notice how cold they sounded. They sounded cold... and sad. Broken. Despairing. That wasn't supposed to come out that way! I wanted to scream to Panem. But the damage was done. I sounded like I was done. Like I couldn't do it.

But I could. And I would.

I closed my eyes and let the dark void of sleep overcome me.