AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a couple hours late because I forgot to hit submit. xB Anyhoo, there's a bit of Clove/Cato in this chapter again, because let's face it. They're at least friends, even if it's from nothing but the desire for them both to go home as the victor pair from District 2. Don't let the title of the chapter throw you off though.
Happy Reading!

CHAPTER 18: Passion Uninhibited

True to their word, Clove and Cato were back on the prowl early in the morning as the sun was just beginning to rise. After clutching his head and attempting to get his bearings, Cato remembered where they were—they were east of the cornucopia, and he was fairly certain that Rue and Peeta were towards the west again. That was how it had been for the last several days.

The dim morning light gave the arena an almost surreal feeling, and combined with the moisture hanging in the air, the place was almost a bit foggy. Even Cato was fairly quiet this time as they crept through the forest to try and ambush Rue and Peeta.

After about half an hour of searching, they finally came across the two of them sleeping fairly peacefully. Rue was lying left-side up, concealing her bleeding deaf ear unbeknownst to the careers.

Skillfully, Clove drew a knife out, licking the blade almost hungrily for a moment as she took aim. Rue's position left her heart area right open, and that was where she was determined to make her mark.

She drew her arm back to make the strike, but right as she released the knife, she cringed from the pain in her head—that trauma from being slammed to the ground by a boy twice her size had really done a number on her.

"Shit!" she snapped, but that noise and the sensation of a blade grazing her shoulder was enough to get Rue onto her feet, much to the careers' disgust.

"PEETA, RUN!" Rue screamed, taking a defensive stance as Peeta staggered to his feet, mace in hand. Knowing their cover was blown, Clove and Cato lunged in for the attack. Despite his bad leg, Peeta held up against the injured careers fairly well, and the two even noticed the careers' slightly erratic attacks.

"Peeta, Run!" Rue called out again, "they're disoriented. I'll hold them off!"
"This time we're not showing any mercy…" Cato smirked, "Clove, Rue's all yours. Peeta's mine."

It was in this moment that Rue realized their tricks were up. Normally she had been able to draw both Cato and Clove after her, in their mad lust to try and end her. However, this time, Cato remembered the mistake he had made the previous time, and he appeared to not want to make that mistake again.

The fights were not as climactic as Panem and the Capitol had expected. Peeta's leg was injured, Rue's arm was injured and her ear was beyond repair, and Clove and Cato were both dealing with serious head trauma that was offsetting their normally deadly and precise strikes due to the difficulty they were having on focusing. Still, the fact that they were able to perform despite these injuries was something to marvel at, at least in the Capitol's eyes.

Rue scrambled through the forest, only to hear the sound of a cannon a few moments after leaving Peeta. She mentally cringed, knowing what that meant. The fact that a fast, heavy stomping noise was catching up to Clove, and thus her by extension, meant what she had feared—Peeta was dead, and she was now alone in the arena, with no one but Cato and Clove as company—and they were exactly the kind of company that wanted her dead.

Clove was gaining on Rue, shouting threats and chucking the occasional knife. She wanted to save some of them, knowing that her aim was bad right now, but knew that if she could catch up to the little District 11 girl, that she could end the fight in a quick melee combat right then and there.

However, Rue Keniye was not set to die today. Lunging onto a low branch, Rue managed to climb into the trees, jumping skillfully from one to another until she had left Clove and Cato in the dust. It did not help that Clove tripped a few moments later from poor footing (due once again in part to her racking headache), and she hit the ground.

Rue heard what could only be described as a chilling scream that penetrated all corners of the arena.

"That…" she said to no one in particular, "is the scream of a crazed predator missing its prey."

"This happens EVERY. FUCKING. TIME!" Clove roared as Cato caught up to her, sliding to his knees beside her to ensure that she was alright. "ELEVENNNNNN!" she screamed again. It had been Rue and Thresh that had driven her nuts at the training center, and in the arena it had been no different. Thresh had been a distraction, and so had Rue. That little girl had killed two of their allies, had disrupted their camp at least thrice as well as blown up their supplies, and no matter how hard Clove tried to catch her, she always remained just out of reach. If Thresh hadn't have injured her, Clove felt she would have been able to aim true and make Rue's death clean and efficient—before she would prey upon her remains. Clove was not thinking cannibalism—no, the Capitol didn't seem to like that, or so the academies had always taught—but she did want to gut that girl and literally rip out her entrails. She wanted to put every ounce of anger into killing that girl and making it as intense and gut-wrenching (no pun intended) as possible. So consumed was Clove with this desire that she had nearly lost herself in the process.

"She can't run forever," Cato reassured her, "maybe we should have waited before striking… but then again, I did manage to get '12."

That seemed to reassure Clove at least a little. "fuck my head…" she groaned, clutching her forehead as another headache pang shot through her skull. "let's find somewhere to make camp. That little shit can live another day… or at least a few more hours till this headache goes away…"

Clove and Cato found a reclusive little place to settle down as the remainder of Day 13 continued on around them. they scouted around for a stream, which they followed back to the lake. Rue was nowhere to be found, but Clove and Cato were not too worried about it. Cato removed his shoes (Clove had been barefooted for the last several days) and after drinking their fill, they dove into the water to soothe the tenseness in their muscles, and perhaps wash some of the grime and blood off of their bodies. After shaking some hair out of her face, Clove noticed Cato smirking.

"What're you grinning at, you buffoon?" she teased. It seemed that a bit of relaxation was good for them—or maybe knowing that Rue was now fleeing from them meant that she no longer felt like she was in danger, which in turn boosted her already high confidence.

"I thought that was dirt on your face," he replied, "didn't know they were freckles."

"Pfft," Clove snorted, "I'm surprised you can even tell."

"What," Cato shook his head as the two crawled out of the water, shaking some of the loose water out of their clothes and bodies—neither one had undressed before jumping in the lake, after all. "you think that just because I spent my life training for this moment that I'm somehow stupid enough to not know freckles when I see them? I'm hurt, Clove. I thought we were friends."
"Well… what else *do* you know?" she tilted her head, "I mean, I spent my whole life training for this moment too, and I'm only 15. What's after the Hunger Games?"
Despite Clove not even knowing the answer to what she had intended as a rhetorical question, it got Cato thinking deeply on it.

"More death, I guess." Cato shrugged, "isn't that what we are—just pieces in the games?"
"It was almost as if Clove and Cato had had an epiphany at this moment.

"So what is Rue other than bait for us?" Clove tilted her head again, also smacking her head to get some water out of her ear. This proved to be a mistake as it sent another surge of irritation through her head.

"If we're not careful, she could win," Cato warned, "and then we couldn't be the heroes from District 2. Just one more kill, Clove—then we can go home."
"It was a good run," Clove sighed as the two of them gazed up at the sky in the small clearing they found. The evening was quiet and eventless, other than the anthem that played as Peeta Mellark's face graced the sky. Seeing him up there really made the reality hit home for them—there was literally only one tribute standing between District 2 and victory. As his face disappeared, they were met with a serene silence, and a vast, starry sky.

"We were right about him not seeing Day 14," Cato quipped, "what do you think'll happen from here?"
"We'll find her," Clove insisted, "I don't even know what to feel anymore, Cato. To be honest, this just seems so… confusing to me now."
"Don't tell me you're going soft." Cato pushed her playfully, the two still laying on their backs.

"No." Clove asserted, "I'm going to make her talk, and then I'm going to make her squeal."

"Spoken like District 2," Cato nodded approvingly, before trailing off. Clove was not slow to notice.

"Let's hear it," she pushed him, "your mind is clearly dwelling on something, Cato."

"I was just thinking about what we're going to do when we win." He admitted, "and… my mind drew a blank. "I mean—besides the obvious stuff: victory tour, fame, glory, pride for our district… what else is out there for us?"
"Well…" Clove began, putting her mind to it, before realizing that she too drew a blank.

"I don't even think winning the games would faze my lazy-ass parents," she continued, "but I… maybe I'd take up masonry." She shrugged, "who knows?"

"I say we hunker down in the meantime though," Cato suggested, "we're fairly out in the open, so Rue can't sneak up on us."

"Good." Clove closed her eyes, "maybe now we can actually get a good night's sleep for once…"

KILLS THIS CHAPTER:
Peeta Mellark, District 12-killed by Cato

ALIVE:
Cato Salazar, District 2
Clove Kazera, District 2
Rue Keniye, District 11