Gale and Peeta are not close friends. They might have been if circumstances were different, but that just isn't the case. And that's why Gale is a bit confused as to why Peeta would be asking him for any favors. This one, however, seems important. "Why do you need to go to the hospital?" Gale asks.
Peeta is hesitant in answering. He knows that Gale and Cato are practically arch enemies. But how else was he going to get there? By lying? He couldn't do that. He's already in enough of a mess, and walking a very fine line with his remaining friends. He decides to just be honest. "Cato had a seizure."
"So?" Gale scoffs. He could care less if the kid died.
"I like him, Gale," Peeta finally admits.
Gale rolls his eyes. "Well I don't. And I don't care that you're friends. Cato is a fucking tool."
"We're… not exactly friends," Peeta says.
"Huh?" Gale asks, confused. It takes a moment for the words to register when he realizes what Peeta may be implying. "Wait. Are you guys like a thing or something?"
Did Myka not tell him? Peeta begins to wonder why he wouldn't share that sort of information with his own best friend. Despite the shock, he begins to feel confident in his new-found friend. He was starting to really like and trust Myka. "Um, I don't know. I like him."
There's an awkward silence before Gale finally says something. "That's fucking weird. Ow!"
Peeta wonders why Gale has just yelped in pain when he hears a shuffling sound and a female voice.
"Hey sweet pea," Domi says. "Ignore Gale. He's being a brat."
Oh. Domi must have slapped Gale. "Thanks, Domi."
"We'd be more than happy to give you a lift, sweetness. Where are you at?" She asks.
Smiling, Peeta is thankful that someone was willing to look past Cato's… history. But then again, it didn't seem that Domi knew Cato very well either. He gives her the address and she promises to be there soon.
When they get off the phone, Gale gives her a comically quizzical look. "Why are we taking him to see Cato again?"
Domi shrugs. "He wants to see him. I think they're cute together."
Gale scoffs, disgusted by the mere thought of Cato. "I don't think 'cute' is the word you're looking for to describe Cato."
"Do you trust Peeta?" Domi suddenly asks.
"Uh…" But Gale has to really think about the question. Peeta seemed innocent enough. "I guess."
"Then you have no reason to believe that his intentions with Cato are anything but good, pumpkin," Domi says, ending the conversation.
Letting out a sigh, Gale admits defeat. "Fine. But I'm driving."
"Trust me, darling," Domi smirks, "that is a-okay by me."
Giving in to Domi's charm, Gale finds himself smiling. The drive to Peeta's isn't very long, about a ten or fifteen minute drive, in fact. Peeta is already outside of the bakery, waiting for them with a small pink box in his lap. They stop the car in front of the bakery and Peeta immediately hops in to the jeep.
"Thanks for the ride, you guys," Peeta says softly.
Domi turns around in the passenger seat to look at him. She beams wide. "It's good to see you, sweet cakes. What's wrong with Cato?"
"I don't know," Peeta admits. "He told me he had a seizure."
"Oh, that's terrible!" Domi says. She looks over at Gale, who rolls his eyes, and smacks him on the arm.
"Ow! What was that for?" Gale asks, oblivious.
"Be nice," Domi warns. She looks back at Peeta. "How are you doing, hun?"
Peeta shrugs his shoulder. He's feeling a lot of things right now. "Fine, I guess. I mean… I'm kind of nervous. Cato doesn't know I'm going over."
"Oh, a surprise visit! How sweet," Domi grins.
Peeta's cheeks turn pink. "Thanks," he says.
It takes a lot for Gale not to scoff, roll his eyes, or show any sign of disgust at that moment. Both Domi and Peeta ignore him until they get to the hospital. Peeta immediately hops out of the car with a "Thank you, guys! I promise I'll bake you a cake."
Domi looks back at Gale and smirks. Peeta could be so endearing sometimes.
Making his way inside, Peeta approaches the front desk with a hesitant look on his face. "Excuse me?" he asks. "I'm looking for somebody…"
"Are you a relative?" the woman at the front desk asks.
"Um… yes. I'm Cato's… cousin…" Peeta says pathetically.
The woman cocks an eyebrow at Peeta knowingly, but gives in to his puppy-like stare. "Cato… what's his last name, hun?"
"Uh… I'm not sure, to be honest," Peeta admits. He felt kind of stupid for not knowing at least that much.
"I see," the woman smiles. "No worries. It's nothing a simple search can't find. Do you know when he was admitted?"
"Today, I think," Peeta says. "He had a seizure."
"Ah," the woman says, immediately remembering the blonde teenager from the ambulance. That one had a bit of a temper. She hands Peeta a small clip-on visitor's pass. "Room 203," she winks.
"Thank you," Peeta says kindly. It was such a relief. He couldn't express his gratitude to this woman enough, but he still had other matters to attend to. He needed to see Cato. He offers her a smile and heads for the elevator, knowing Cato's room would be on the second level. There's no music in this elevator; it creates a weird, eerie feeling that makes him shudder. He shakes the thought from his mind and continues onward to his destination. Room 203 is just down the hall on the left, between 201 and 205 opposite the even-numbered rooms. It was simple enough.
With a shaky breath, Peeta lets out a sigh and builds the courage to open the door. It's a small room with two beds. The bed closest to him is empty. The one at the very end, right-corner is occupied by a seemingly sleeping form. Peeta can only see his back and blonde hair, but he knows it's Cato. He debates for a moment whether he should say something to let the man know of his presence, or if he should quietly approach the bed in case Cato is sleeping.
Taking quiet steps, he heads towards the bed. Cato lays completely still, it's almost unsettling. He stops about a foot from the bed, unsure what to do from this point.
Cato is wide awake. He knows someone is standing behind him, watching him. He suspects it's Marvel or one of his family members. He doesn't want to talk to them right now. He hopes whoever it is will take the hint that he doesn't want to be bothered. The form doesn't move. A new feeling has washed over him. He feels empty, nearly dead. A thought occurs on how a dying person must feel. He suspects it feels just like this; hallow, uncaring, lonely. And yet he wants to be alone. He doesn't want to hear words of comfort, nor wisdom, nor love. This cloud of emptiness is all he needs right now.
When the figure still doesn't budge, he begins to feel slightly angry. He just needed to tell them to go away. He turns around to face the body when his eyes meet identical blue orbs staring back at him. "Peeta?"
Peeta shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot and smiles softly. "Hi, Cato. How are you feeling?"
How is he feeling? Actually, he doesn't know anymore. He thought he wanted to be alone, but there's something comforting about Peeta's presence. He shrugs his shoulders. "What are you doing here?"
Fumbling with the small pink box in his hands, Peeta offers it to Cato. "I, um… baked you something."
Cato looks down at the box, back at Peeta, then to his lap again and opens the pink box. Inside are a small assortment of danishes and cakes. Each one has a single word on it, and all-together they spell out "I hope you feel better really soon." The corners of his lips curl into a smile, and suddenly his chest feels fuller and warm. "Thank you," he says.
"You're welcome," Peeta responds shyly. "Can I ask what happened?"
"I had a seizure," Cato explains. "There's a tumor in my brain. The doc says it's not cancerous, but it will get bigger with time and eventually put enough pressure on my brain to kill me. He wants me to have surgery to remove it. They're prepping right now."
"Are you scared?" Peeta asks.
Never would Cato ever admit that he was afraid of anything. It was a sign of weakness, and he refused to let anyone believe that about him. "No," he answers stubbornly. "If the surgery is a success, it's gone and things go back to normal. If it doesn't, then I die on the table and that's that."
"Oh, well… that's good, I guess. I mean… not about you dying; that would be terrible. But I mean… it's good that you aren't scared. I'd be so terrified. I'm scared now. I don't know how you do it. I wish I were strong like you," Peeta says.
Cato reaches for Peeta's tangled hands that are fumbling together in nervousness and pulls them apart. He brings them to his face and kisses the tops of each hand before rolling his thumbs over the flesh. "You're cute."
That did it. Peeta blushes the color of a tomato. "Um, uh… I… uh…"
"Come here," Cato commands in a soft manner.
Obliging to his demand, Peeta leans in close until their lips meet. He cheeks grow incredibly hot from the tingling sensation of his lips and chest. He could actually hear his heart pounding in his ears. This was so nerve-wrecking, but also so soothing at the same time. Cato tangles his fingers into Peeta's blonde locks, deepening the kiss. This was exactly what he needed.
The two are so preoccupied that they don't notice someone has entered the room. Marvel stands by the doorframe, shocked and heart-broken. He always knew it would end up like this, with Cato's heart yearning for another. He just didn't realize it would hurt as much as it did.
Marvel does not love Glimmer. Truth be told, he didn't even like her much. He's always known that he loved his best friend, Cato. He also knew that love was not enough. He didn't consider himself gay, because he wasn't attracted to men. He's slept with many girls, enjoys his time with women, but for some reason, Cato always held his heart. And now he turned it to glass and shattered it. He really shouldn't have reacted like this, to be so hurt. After all, he knew it was going to end like this. So, knowing all of that, why did it bother him so?
He starts to compare himself to Peeta. Sure, he was an adorable kid, if that was your type, but Marvel is incredibly good-looking, too. He knows he is. He doesn't know much about Peeta's personality, except that he's always been shy and on the nicer side. Marvel isn't shy or particularly nice, but he does have other qualities about him; he is the most loyal friend you'll ever meet, he's caring of his loved ones, and he'll do anything to please and protect them.
Cato breaks away from the kiss to ask Peeta something. "After the surgery, I'll be staying at my Uncle Gem's place. I'd really like it if you stayed the night to keep me company. There's an extra guest room for you."
Well, it wasn't so much a question rather then a request, but Peeta understands where he's coming from. He knows Cato needs the company. He instantly nods his head in agreement. "I'll be there."
"Thank you," Cato says with a smile. He leans in again to kiss Peeta for a second time when Marvel decides to make his presence known with a clearing of the throat. He looks beyond Peeta to see his best friend standing at the doorframe, clearly uncomfortable with the display. "Oh, Marvel, hey."
"Hey," Marvel mutters, trying to keep his cool. "Uh… your family is in the cafeteria. Dr. Aurelius is on his way to get you now. Do you need anything?"
This was clearly the time for Peeta to leave the room. The tension is so thick, it could be cut with a knife. Luckily, his phone chimes and he excuses himself to leave Cato and Marvel in the room alone so they could talk. "I'll wait for you in the lobby," he says. "And don't worry, you'll be fine. I promise."
Cato smiles at Peeta's statement, knowing it to be true. He was ready now. And he was going to get through this.
When Peeta is outside of the room, he looks down at his phone. It's a text message from… Domi?
"Hey, sweetness. How is Cato doing?"
"Who are you texting?" Gale asks, trying to hide his nosy curiosity.
Domi looks over at him, amused. "Peeta. I wanted to know how Cato is doing."
"Why?" Gale scoffs.
Domi rolls her eyes with a frustrated sigh. "I already told you why."
Gale's cell phone rings. He looks at the number, presses the ignore button, and places the phone down next to him. Domi peaks at the contact name and is shocked. She glares at Gale, who looks back at her, confused, and asks, "What?"
"Why don't you answer the phone when your mother calls? You always ignore the call when it's her," Domi observes.
Focusing on the road, away from Domi's gaze, Gale attempts to brush off the question. "No reason. Where do you want to eat?"
"How about at your mother's?" Domi challenges.
"What?" Gale asks incredulously. What kind of stupid statement was that? She knew why he couldn't speak to his mother.
Domi can't believe him. "It's been a while, Gale. Don't you think it's time to get over it? Pick up the phone. Let her know you're at least alright, pumpkin. What harm could that be?"
"I don't want to," Gale huffs like a child.
"Do you need a nap?" Domi teases. "Perhaps an apple juice box?"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Gale asks.
"It means," Domi starts, "that you're being immature. What if something happened to your family? How would you be able to live with the last thing you've ever said to one-another on your mind? We don't live forever, sweetness. Our loved ones can be taken from us at any given moment. You got into a fight, you left, and you never settled it. You can be mad at your mother all you want, but when's the last time you've spoken to your siblings? How is this fair on them?"
Gale knows she's right, but he's too stubborn to give in. "Nothing's fair. It wasn't fair what she did!"
"That happened so long ago!" Domi shrieks. "Are you going to be pissed off at her for the rest of your life? How many times does she need to say she's sorry before you can forgive her?"
"I don't know," Gale admits.
"Talk to her," Domi pushes. "Just give her five minutes. See what she has to say."
"Fine," Gale grunts. "I'll talk to her." He can't remember when all of this started, or how he got here, but he knows he's unhappy and things are not okay the way they are now. Domi is right. He needed to finally settle things between him and his mother. His father would be so disappointed if he knew how everything was right now. He'd be disappointed in Gale. And that was the worst.
"Gale," Domi says with a hesitant voice. "There's something else I need to talk to you about, pumpkin…"
Oh, man. Here we go again… For someone who has only recently become involved in Gale's life, Domi sure was persistent in helping him. "What's that?"
"Okay, before you get mad, you need to know that I'm only bringing this up because I really care about you, pumpkin. You're… I… shit, how do I say this?" She looks at him, worry evident on her face. "You know there are people that love you and really care about you, right?" She waits for him to say something. Confused, he waits for her to continue. "Gale, I don't want anything to happen to you. You… you need to stop doing the drugs."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Gale says pathetically. He's only experimented with them a couple of times. He wasn't hurting anyone. Why couldn't everyone just mind their own business anyway?
Domi begins to lose her patience. "Gale, I'm serious. You're not lighting up an occasional joint or partying on the weekends. You've been playing with some serious shit and it's going to end up badly for everyone. Drugs don't just affect you! It hurts everyone that loves you, too!"
"Nobody loves me," Gale mumbles under his breath. His choices made no difference on anyone but himself.
"I do," Domi says softly.
The words register like a car accident; unexpected, heavy, and fast. Gale parks his jeep on the side of the road, away from traffic and looks at Domi. Trails of wet tears stain her red cheeks. She meant those words. She really did care. His gray eyes bore into her sad, brown ones for what seems like an eternity before he leans in close, caresses her cheek, and kisses her. "I love you, too," he whispers before she eagerly wraps her arms around his neck.
Suddenly, everything is crystal clear. He needed to talk to his mother, despite how much he didn't want to. He needed to explain to his siblings why he left, that he still loves them. He can never go back, but he could keep their relationship in balance. When several moments have passed, he takes out his cell phone and decides to let Myka know of his decision.
A phone rings and stirs Myka from his blissful slumber. Finnick has been awake for a little while now, having decided to watch the brunette next to him sleep peacefully. "You are so sexy in the morning," he purrs, nibbling on Myka's ear.
Still half asleep, Myka rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his dark hair, making it even more messy than usual. Finnick can't help but giggle at the sight.
"What are you laughing at?" Myka mumbles, still trying to wake up.
Finnick just bursts out in laughter. This was too cute. He leans in close and tickles his nose back and forth against Myka's, earning a half-smirk from the brunette. "Want me to make you breakfast?"
Myka shakes his head. He doesn't typically eat in the morning. "Not hungry. Thanks though."
"You sure?" Finnick asks, scooting in close and nibbling on Myka's collar bone.
"Mmm, you're gonna make me hungry for something else if you keep that up," Myka pouts. He's not much of a morning person, but it's never a bad time for this.
Grinning at the suggestion, Finnick lays on top of Myka, placing both arms on either side of his body to pin him. He grinds his hips into Myka's and begins to nibble on his neck again. "I can cook up some protein for you, no problem."
"Stop that," Myka shies away from the contact, a small half-smirk evident on his lips. He secretly loves all of the attention he's getting. But, of course, he would never admit that.
But Finnick knows this game all too well. After all, he's a master at it. He scoots in close, nibbling on Myka's ear until the phone begins to ring for the second time.
"Hold on. I'll get it," Myka says, reaching for his phone. He doesn't bother checking the caller ID before answering. "Hello?"
Finnick watches Myka with a pouty face, wanting to snuggle with him in bed.
"Oh, hey, Peeta. What's up?" Myka asks.
At this, Finnick's eyes grow wide with fear. What the hell was Peeta calling Myka for? He feels himself begin to panic. If Peeta ruined this for him…
"No, I haven't seen him," Myka says. "I'm actually with Finnick right now. Want me to give him a call?"
Who were they talking about? Wait, never mind. Peeta was looking for Gale.
"Okay, no problem. Later," Myka starts to hangup, but suddenly realizes something. "Oh, wait! Peeta! What's your favorite color?"
Huh?
"Thanks. Bye." And with that, he hangs up.
Finnick gives him one of the most hilariously quizzical looks.
Myka acts as if he doesn't notice. "Are we still getting tattoos?" He smirks.
Finnick beams wide and grabs their clothes. "Lets go!"
The tattoo parlor is a small one with two of the best artists in the state. Finnick finds himself slightly anxious, unsure how the events will turn out, but keeps a very excited face on. This tattoo was going to be proof of his commitment to Myka, and he was proud to have it displayed for everyone to see. They are separated into different rooms and promise not to peak until both tattoos are done.
Two long hours later, Finnick's piece is done. He waits outside, anxiously waiting to show off his new art and see how his boyfriend's piece. He watches TV for a while, trying to kill some time. When he's bored with that, he goes through every magazine in the shop. After that, he plays pool with his artist. What the hell is taking them so long?
Myka tip toes out of the room, a large smile planted on his face.
"Finally!" Finnick laughs. "Took you long enough. Let me see!"
"You first," Myka insists.
Turning his body to the left to show off his right arm, Myka sees a beautiful blue-ringed octopus elegantly perched on his bicep. The bright cyan and blue spots make a sharp, gorgeous contrast on the yellow skin of the octopus. Why hadn't he thought of that particular octopus? It was stunning in every way!
"That is amazing," Myka breathes. "It's beautiful, Finnick."
"Thank you," Finnick says. "Now show me yours! Better be worth all those hours…"
And it was. On his left arm, Finnick sees a complete sleeve of work filled with color and different sea creatures. There's a tiny orange turtle towards the top of his wrist, an elegant purple jellyfish on his forearm, a stunning lionfish on his inner-bicep, a beautiful leopard shark just above it, and a huge octopus stealing the spotlight on his bicep with a gradient skin fading from a pale yellow to light blue to violet with long tentacles that travel all the way down to his wrists.
Finnick lets out a surprised gasp. "Wow…"
"So… I take it you like it?" Myka asks.
"What kind of question is that? I love it!" Finnick says. "So I know the octopus is for me, but what about the other stuff?"
"The shark," he points at his inner-bicep, "is Gale. People think that leopard sharks are man-eating machines, but they're actually quite docile. Their looks are just really deceiving. The lionfish is Domi. They're beautiful and usually harmless, but their dorsal spines are poisonous and sting really bad if you spook them. The jellyfish is Thresh. We've been jamming together for a while, and he's still a real mystery to me. And intimidating, of course. You know an Australian box jellyfish is probably the most lethal creature in the world," Myka explains matter-of-factly, "but this isn't an Australian box, it's a Chrysaora colorata, or purple-striped jellyfish. And the little orange turtle is Peeta. I just thought it was cute."
Talk about taking in some information. "Okay, first off, you know way too much about sea animals," Finnick laughs. "And second… wow. Third… why the turtle?"
"I thought I already explained that bit?" Myka teases.
"Yeah, I know. It's just… we don't know Peeta very well is all I'm trying to say," Finnick offers, trying not to let his apprehension show.
Myka just shrugs his shoulders. "Guess I'm just finally beginning to trust the world. Want to grab some food?"
"God, yes. I think we should celebrate with some seafood," Finnick grins.
"Sounds good to me," Myka agrees. "Lets go."
Finnick pays their tattoo artists and leads Myka towards the car. They walk hand-in-hand, laughing and chatting about random things. Several cars down, Wes continues to follow them. He notices their brand new art from a distance. So they got matching tattoos, it seems. While Myka and Wes had wolf tattoos, they were not done together. Myka actually got his first tattoo about six months before Wes did. The wolf, to him, was his totem; the animal that best described him. Wes got his tattoo as a reminder to Myka that he was nothing more than his pet. The symbol is extremely sadistic, always inferring that Myka was a dog that needed to be trained.
Clenching his jaw in distaste, Wes watches as his pet is let into the passenger side of Finnick's convertible. Why couldn't he see that Finnick wasn't right for him? It's in that moment that Wes decides that Myka will never be able to see...