Author's note,

Thank you for checking this out. I know Cato and Katniss is not the ship for everyone, but for me personally, they are my OTP and I'm obsessed with their dynamic, especially after the movie came out. Although I've read plenty of fanfictions on them over the years, I was never inspired to actually write a story until now. The Wild Ones by green and yellow is what pulled me back into the ship and I couldn't stop thinking about it. So here I am, writing my first fanfiction. For anyone who is interested, I highly recommend The Wild Ones, however it is abandoned, but what is posted before, in my opinion, is still worth your time.

On another note though, while it is the story that motivated me to write my own story, it is not entirely similar. I don't think I could ever replicate something that great. There are concepts that I took from that story to use in the later chapters, but this is my own take on the story between Katniss and Cato.

Chapter 1: The Train to Doom

Katniss's heart skips a beat as the Peacekeepers escort her out of the Justice Building to the train. Well, more like guarding if you ask her, with their hands tightly locked around her arms, leaving no room for even a fly to escape. Not that she thought about escaping really, she's still too numb to truly react to anything, the thought of dying pervading her mind.

Gale said she had a chance, a chance to win. It would be just like hunting in the woods with him, she's killed before and it's no different from the Games. She wonders if it really would be the same. Is it the same to the thousands of times she has silently stalked an animal in the woods with Gale? Circling the animal to get a clear shot and watching as the animal squeak in terror before the life completely slips out of its eyes?

Her answer is no, as she jostles out of her deep musing by a gentle voice to meet the baby blue eyes of the boy sitting across from her. It wouldn't be the same to watch if those baby blue eyes were to lose the gentle shine and the life in it. But could she do it is the question that lingered on her mind, begging for an answer before his voice sounded again.

"Katniss, you okay?" Asks Peeta. "You seem a bit distracted."

No, of course, I'm not okay, she screams internally. But before she opens her mouth to say it, she saw the greenish hue of his skin and the fear hidden behind the gentleness in his eyes and is reminded of the life debt she owes to the gentle boy in front of her. Some things just never change, Peeta Mellark, will always be the boy that was too gentle for his own good. It would cost him greatly in the Game, but she couldn't help him, couldn't afford to when she can't even help herself. So, she settles for a different response, "yea, just thinking."

"Right, as I was saying, what do you think Haymitch will offer us for advice? I have never really met him before."

Probably nothing, thought Katniss as she remembers the few times she's seen Haymitch in the Seam, either on his way to becoming drunk or already drunk. "I don't know, but I doubt it would be life-changing." Because it isn't, district 12 has few victors, only death, repeated over and over again before Haymitch, and then repeated over and over again after him. It's hard to believe the old drunk that can't even walk straight to save his life is the winner of the 50th annual Hunger Game, the second Quarter Quell nonetheless. But then again, Katniss can't really remember Haymitch killing anybody, since he won by default when his opponent got killed by her own weapon. That must have been very anticlimactic for the capital people watching it, Katniss thought bitterly, those mindless monsters.

Just as Peeta was about to open his mouth again. The subject of their conversation came staggering into the compartment, a bottle of foul-smelling liquid in hand. "Is dinner served yet?" He slurred as he fell into another chair next to the table.

"Not yet, but we were wondering what advice you would give us going into the Capital." Answers Peeta.

"Ha, already looking ahead to your ultimate demise?" Haymitch laughs as he takes another swig.

"Was that supposed to be a joke?" Asks Peeta, face turning red at the taunt. She stiffens at their exchange because Haymitch has just spoken the truth that no one had the heart to truly say it. They were on a train headed straight to their doom, and they couldn't do anything about it. They were just two powerless powerless kids, whose fate has been set the moment they walked onto this train.

"No, it wasn't." Laughs Haymitch again, a trace of bitterness in his eyes, but anything else that was to be said was cut off by a gag as he proceeds to throw up all over the table.

"Oh god, I think, I need to find a bed." Slurred Haymitch, standing up while wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. "But here's a bit of advice, think about something positive while you still can." He didn't bother looking back at them before stepping out.

Well, nothing she wasn't expecting, Katniss thought bitterly, Haymitch was never gonna be her savior anyway. It's only herself since she volunteered to take Prim's place, no one has her back now.

"We should go watch the reaping, see what the others are like." Peeta's voice sounded again, "You coming?"

"Yea," Katniss stood up from the chair she occupied a moment ago, eager to be away from the content that once belonged inside Haymitch, "right after you."

Katniss lays awake in her bed. It is well after midnight, but she couldn't help but replay the reaping inside her head. 24 tributes, 1 victor, and 23 death. A couple of tributes stood out on her list of tributes that are likely to make it out alive, namely, the careers. The pretty blood from district one with an airy smile that screams attractive. She is bound to have lots of sponsors. Her district mate, who though not as attractive, is still a good candidate for victory as he stood tall and proud next to her. The slender girl from district 2 with a confident smile that seems too big for her frame, Katniss wonders what she has in store for the Game. Her district mate stood out the most to her, a tall muscular boy that swaggered onto the stage, with dark ocean blue eyes that shone with determination as he volunteers to take the place of another. He looked so large in comparison to the girl tribute next to him, Katniss shudders when she thinks about all the ways he could overpower her in combat, his definitely someone to be avoided in the arena.

Then, faces after faces appeared on the screen, but none that lingers until district 11, oh god, she can't even think about district 11. The little girl, who looks not a year older than Prim, with round doe-like eyes that shone with tears, cowering next to the large male tribute that towered over her. Katniss thought with again to the question she was pondering since she was led onto the train. Could she do it? Could she even stand by to watch the little girl be murdered, when she reminds her so much of Prim? She doesn't think so. Then, the little girl must be avoided as well, because she obviously can't afford to interfere with her fate either, just like she could not with Peeta's. She must try and survive for her sister. That was, is her promise, even perhaps, at the cost of others. Because only one comes out in the Hunger Game, and she would do anything to be the one, that is her answer to the question that has invaded her mind since the reaping. With that thought in mind, Katniss slowly drifts into a restless dream, filled with the color of ocean blue marred with streaks of crimson.