Know Your Enemy - Chapter 13
It was almost midday when Peeta stirred, cracking an eye open briefly and humming in satisfaction at the fact he was still surrounded by at least partial darkness. Not too much light had managed to spill into the cave from outside, meaning that he could continue to snooze happily under the pretense that it was not actually daytime therefore he did not need to be awake.
Usually in the arena the Tributes had no choice but to be up, alert and moving as soon as dawn broke: the artificial light of morning there was too bright to ignore completely, too piercing to sleep through and too dangerous to be caught in. Tucked away under the cool shade of the cave, however, this was no longer the case.
Peeta rolled over and buried himself further in the soft warmness that surrounded him, face nuzzling sleepily against something smooth and strangely angular. A collarbone, maybe? It was nice. Comfortable even. He hadn't slept this much in forever. Back in Twelve, he never had the privilege of a lie in like this. His whole being felt rested, replenished and ready to go. Well, almost ready – just five more minutes of sleep and he'd be sorted.
Just as his body was beginning to shut down itself again, something prodded him gently in the cheek. He growled in irritation at the disturbance. Sleep. He needed it. Anyone who got in his way should prepare to face a gruesome death, or something equally threatening to that effect.
A low chuckle came from somewhere near his ear and he lazily blinked a bleary eye open once more to meet a pair of soft blue ones. "Morning," Cato whispered, then surged forward to drop a clumsy kiss to Peeta's lips. It was wet, sleepy and messy, overall unremarkable and over far too soon for his liking.
Peeta whined pathetically when Cato pulled away because that had been nice and warm and his brain wasn't yet functioning at a level that was above basic human desires. His mouth opened to demand the other boy came back to kiss him again but his somewhat addled mind got the words jumbled up on the tip of his tongue. "Were you watching me sleep?" he asked instead. He could almost feel Cato's blush as it spread through his body, fiery hot and burning as he shook his head. Denial.
"What? No!" the boy insisted, trying to shuffle away. His escape plan was unsuccessful, though, due to the fact he had well over one hundred pounds worth of Peeta sprawled out heavily across his chest.
"Oh god, did I ruin our cute morning-after moment? I did, didn't I? Fuck." Groaning melodramatically he buried his face in the crook of Cato's neck. "Let's have a do-over," he mumbled, pressing his suggestion into the bare skin there. "I'll just pretend to be asleep and we can just try that whole thing again."
One of Cato's arms was still wrapped possessively around the other boy's waist, holding him firmly in place. The other shifted upwards to tangle gently in Peeta's hair. "You don't get a do over, you idiot."
"But I want to be cute with you." Peeta pouted. He actually pouted. "Let's be cute. C'mon, we could be cute together."
"Sorry, you missed your shot," Cato teased lightly as he disentangled his own limbs from the jumble of others in spite of Peeta's muttered protests. "Besides that, you're about as cute as Thresh in a ballet skirt, Mellark."
"So you think I'm pretty cute, then?" Peeta grinned, pressing a feather light kiss to Cato's neck. "That's sweet. I didn't know you have a thing for Thresh, though. Or ballet skirts, for that matter."
"Shut up, that wasn't what I meant." Cato replied, his tone incredulous. "You know full well that I don't have a thing for Thresh," he continued without even bothering to deny the former accusation, simply because that would be a blatant lie. Peeta was very cute, especially in the morning when he was all bleary-eyed and clingy like this. Cato wasn't going to actually admit that out loud to anyone, though.
"Yeah, whatever." Rolling to the side, Peeta stretched out across the floor like a cat, willing his muscles back to life. For once he didn't have to snap all his joints back into place – maybe he'd have to make a habit out of using Cato as a human mattress. "What are we doing today?"
"I don't know. We could go hunting, I guess?" the other boy shrugged. It's not like there was anything else to do in the arena.
"Alright," Peeta agreed, but only because he didn't have any better ideas. "I'll go out and get our shirts and collect some wood for a fire. Let's finish off the last of the deer for breakfast before we head out of here."
"Sounds good." Cato smiled, and then dropped a quick kiss to the tip of Peeta's nose. "Man with a plan. I like that. I'll pack our stuff up so we can leave as soon as we've eaten."
Grateful for the chance to get some fresh air, to clear his head and wake himself up properly before he did something really, really stupid, Peeta hurried out of the cave with nothing more than a smile and a small wave in Cato's direction. The other boy watched him go, biting down the warnings of 'be safe' and 'come back' and 'don't leave me' that threatened to spill out after his retreating back.
To put it plainly, hunting got boring fast – really fast. After a few days in the arena it kind of lost it's glamour and became somewhat tedious. Today it was even worse than usual because they'd both already eaten and neither of them was all that hungry. Their only true incentive to do it was their boredom but even then, a full stomach weakened the appeal of chasing rabbits around under the scorching hot sun.
They were both out of breath, panting and sweating when they decided to call it a day. They had killed six rabbits in just an hour. Both of them knew there was no way they could even eat that many. It felt too much like they were hilling for the sake of killing. Killing for fun. It made Peeta feel slightly sick as he rounded up the rabbits by their ears and wiped his bloodied dagger clean on the grass at his feet.
"What do we do now?" he asked Cato, wishing he had a hand free to wipe the dripping beads of sweat away from his forehead.
The other boy shrugged. "I'm gonna go for a swim in the river, cool off a little and stuff. Care to join me?" He said the words casually. Too casually. Since they left the cave, they had gone back to their old routine of sniping at each other over every little thing and squabbling as they walked. Peeta had no idea where he stood.
He felt his cheeks grow hot as he imagined the two of them in the river together – alone in the river together. He didn't know what would happen, so he shook his head. Not after yesterday. It was too confusing. "I'm okay, thanks. You go ahead, I'll just head back to camp and skin the rabbits or something."
Cato raised an eyebrow at him doubtfully, probably because Peeta was still absolutely awful at skinning rabbits. "Are you sure?" he asked, but for some reason it sounded more like 'are you avoiding me?'
Shrugging back at him, Peeta didn't answer his question because he didn't really know how he was supposed to. Cato sighed, shook his head. "You're no fun," he said bluntly. "I'll see you back at the cave in a little while, alright? If I'm not back in an hour, assume I'm either halfway dead or dying slowly."
"That's really not funny," the other boy replied in an irritated tone, but he couldn't help the smile that quirked up the corners of his lips in spite of himself. "Make sure you keep your sword with you at all times and don't even think about dying on me, okay?"
"Straight back at you," Cato replied with a nod. "Don't go doing anything I wouldn't."
Peeta laughed at him and then rolled his eyes. "Right, of course, because you're the epitome of sensible behaviour and good conduct."
"Exactly," Cato deadpanned and, apparently not detecting the heavy sarcasm or, as was more likely, refusing to acknowledge it, he grinned proudly like he'd just been praised. "Just be careful, Peeta. I'd miss you if you died."
"I will be," the boy promised back earnestly. Then there was a moment where Cato stepped forward, closer to him, like he was going to kiss him or something. He didn't, though, just extended a hand and lightly traced the curve of Peeta's cheek before turning to leave.
Watching him go, Peeta could have sworn their goodbyes were usually shorter, less final sounding and far less laden with anxiety. Something about it made him nervous and left an ugly nauseous feeling twisting around in his gut that tightened painfully at the thought of never seeing the other boy again.
The rabbits were heavy in his hands, but his heart was heavier in his chest as he trudged back to the cave – their cave. It felt empty and soulless here when he was alone. Sweat still dripped down his brow, painfully slow. Dropping the rabbits carelessly to the floor, he wiped it away with the back of his hand.
All the while, he couldn't shake the sick feeling in his stomach. He couldn't.
Predictably, he'd botched skinning the rabbits. It was a grotesque sight, like stepping into a little bunny warzone. Guts and bloody innards were strewn about the floor of the cave. Peeta had, admittedly, taken his nerves and anxiety out on the poor creatures in the hopes that it would be therapeutic and help to calm him down. Now he regretted it.
As it turned out, the brutal skinning, gutting and mutilating only served to make him even more of a mess than before, both emotionally and physically. Biting his lip, he decided to at least attempt to clear up before Cato got back. The other boy would either laugh at him or be annoyed if he saw this. Peeta didn't know which it would be, nor did he particularly care to find out.
Scraping warm organs from the cool rocks they had splattered on, he glanced up every now and again to survey the area around the cave that was visible through its narrow mouth. He wasn't sure how long had passed since he had returned, but it had to be somewhere around the hour mark and he was growing increasingly worried. Of course he was.
Cato's light-hearted words from earlier resounded like an echo, playing out in his head over and over: either halfway dead or dying slowly. The boy wasn't back yet and it was perfectly plausible. Peeta shuddered, trying to force his thoughts aside without much success. It was difficult to think of anything cheerful in the arena anyway, especially when surrounded by nothing but chunks of rotting flesh.
Outside, there was a rustling from the trees, barely audible but definitely there. A spark of hope – and maybe just a little relief – ignited in his chest and burned through his veins like an adrenaline rush. Quickly wiping his hands clean on his trousers he fumbled his way upright and all but sprinted out of the cave.
"Cato?" he called out into the empty clearing. "Cato, is that you?"
There was no answer, just more rustling from the bushes. He crept closer, intrigued, and then cursed himself for his stupidity. The noises were too quiet to be Cato, which could only mean that he was approaching an enemy unarmed. Freezing in place, his pride wouldn't allow him to run away like a coward when everyone in the Captiol was probably watching him. He just prayed that whoever it was hadn't heard him calling out, hoped that they wouldn't come out and attack him.
Of course, he had no such luck. The sounds of leaves and branches being pushed aside and twigs breaking underfoot grew closer. Peeta bit his lip, stepped back and raised his fists in the hopes that he'd be able to knock his opponent out before they actually opposed him. It was a long shot, but he was strong enough that it was worth a chance.
Then a bright red head, wide eyes and pale face poked out of the bushes. Foxface. He didn't know why he was so surprised – after all, it could only have been her or Thresh, and she was by far the more likely option judging by the daintiness of the footsteps. Something made him pause, hesitate. Maybe it was some reservations about flat out punching a girl in the face that he didn't even know he had coming into play.
He thought about Effie, how she'd shake her head at him and hiss 'manners!' sharply under her breath at the screen if he went through with it. Just like that, his fists lowered back down to his sides and he took a step back.
Foxface watched him with an eyebrow raised, her pinched up features twisting into a hybrid between a half-smile and some sort of frown. As creepy as that expression was, he knew then that he couldn't kill her with his bare hands. It would be too messy, too barbaric, too much of a struggle. He could just picture it now, how her face, that awful face contorted in pain would haunt his memories. Even the thought of it was enough to turn his stomach.
He couldn't do it.
Instead, he offered her a grimace of his own in return for her… whatever that was meant to be, and tried to recall exactly where he'd thrown his dagger after he finished mutilating the rabbits. From what he could remember, it was on the floor of the cave somewhere towards the back, which left him with pretty much no choice: he'd have to trick her, entice her into their camp and then kill her.
"Uh," he said as eloquently as ever, struggling to remember her real name. He was fairly sure that calling her Foxface wouldn't go down too well. "Hi there?"
"Hello, Peeta," she said. Her voice was different than he remembered, lower and more sultry. He quickly concluded from this that she'd probably been practicing the art of seduction since they last spoke. Weirdo. Shimmying out of the undergrowth, she planted himself in front of him and cocked her head to one side in a manner that she probably thought looked cute. How wrong she was. "Aren't you going to try and kill me?"
"Of course not," Peeta lied and then laughed awkwardly, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to look casual. Play it cool. "How could I kill a girl as beautiful as you?"
Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she laughed too. "Well, aren't you charming today," she commented with a wink then took a step forward. She looked him up and down once, twice, and then nodded in approval before her eyes went narrow and calculating. "Why were you calling out for Cato just now?"
"He's sort of my ally, I guess," Peeta replied honestly.
"You're still allies this late in the competition?" she shot back, tone disbelieving. He blushed a little and then nodded. "That's really weird. He's a Career, after all. I'm surprised he hasn't turned on you already."
"I'm pretty surprised too," he replied more flatly than he'd intended, struggling to refrain himself from springing to the other boy's defense. Peeta took a deep, steadying breath and then another. It's not like she knew what she's talking about, anyway. Of course she didn't – she barely even knew Cato.
"You should have picked your allies a bit more wisely." Foxface smirked. "Maybe then you wouldn't be stuck with the wrong sort."
The whole conversation was unnerving him. The girl appeared to be unarmed, and even if she wasn't he was certain he could fight off any attacks she made, yet something about talking to her set him on edge more than her running at him with a knife would. That he knew how to handle. This, on the other hand, was completely foreign to him.
Every word they spoke seemed too much like a casual conversation between two people who knew of each other vaguely well, not two people destined to kill one another. Too normal for this arena where everything came down to a matter of their life or death.
"Maybe I didn't consider my options thoroughly enough," he countered in what he hoped was a flirty tone, forcing his focus back into the present, telling himself that now was not the time be complacent. "If we'd teamed up from the start, things might be different. Then again, I don't think I could handle having an ally I'm so very attracted to. I'm sure it would be far too distracting for me to get anything done."
The insincerity of his words left him cringing, but somehow Foxface seemed convinced as she nodded and then took a step towards him, closed the gap between them. Her hands wrapped firmly around his shoulders, sharp nailed fingers clawing at the muscles there as she rose up onto her tip-toes and edged closer, closer —
"I think we should take this somewhere a little more private," Peeta suggested, jerking away from her grasp just before her lips touched down on his own. She pouted at this, and it was mildly repulsive.
"That's stupid. Nothing in this arena is private, Peeta," she reminded him, and then lunged forwards once more. This time she only missed her target narrowly as he turned away, lips catching his cheek and sliding wetly across it. "What's wrong with you?" she demanded hotly, pulling back to glare at him.
He paused, trying to think of a good excuse. "I… uh. I think we're going too fast?"
"We're in an arena where we could die at any given moment and you think that we're going too fast?" she repeated skeptically. When she put it like that, it did sound pretty stupid. "I thought that you want this."
"Trust me, I do," he reassured, although his skin was literally crawling where she'd touched it, sending shivers of disgust down his spine and raising bile in his throat. Swallowing it down quickly, he tried to smile at her in an appropriately bashful and shy manner. "I'm just nervous because this is uh, my first time doing this."
"Oh, so you really are a virgin?" Her expression melted from angry rage to something softer, more sympathetic and pitying in just seconds. "I had a feeling you might be from the moment I first met you. You give off such an innocent vibe."
Not knowing whether to be insulted or not, Peeta almost wanted to tell her that remembered the moment he met her and how he had known right away that she was a weirdo – she just gave off this really creepy and ominous vibe, like the kind of person who would crawl into bed with someone and molest them in their sleep. He wouldn't put it past her.
"If we go into the cave I'm sure I'd feel more relaxed," he told her with a hopeful smile.
Foxface looked over at the cave, then back to Peeta, quickly assessing the distance between them. "At least kiss me now," she demanded. "I need to know that this is going to be worth my time."
"I can't," Peeta insisted as she leaned in again. "I'm too nervous."
Horrified by her closeness, he shook his head and darted out of her reach once more. This would have been so much easier if he'd just throttled her as soon as he saw or something. Anything.
"Whatever." Rolling her eyes, she released him from her clutches and shuffled away, darting back into the bushes. He watched her go, somewhat relieved that she'd lost interest and just left even if he hadn't managed to kill her. It wasn't quite what he'd pictured for their next meeting, but he comforted himself that at least she hadn't kissed him properly.
Wiping her saliva trail from his damp cheek, he turned to head back to the cave. He'd retrieve his dagger and then when Cato returned they could go after her together or something. Just as he thought he was out of the woods, home and dry, safe at last and so on, the girl reemerged from the forest proudly brandishing a handful of berries.
"I passed these on my way over here." She told him with a grin. "You should eat them, they'll make you feel better."
"What are they?" he asked as he peered down at her hand and inspected them closely. They appeared to be Nightlock, the deadly wild berries that sprouted up in the wilderness outside his District.
"They're called Frightstop." Foxface looked smug, apparently pleased she knew something he didn't. "They're used in minor operations to calm nerves and anesthetize patients."
"Are you sure about that?" he asked, and the girl nodded back confidently. At least she was self-assured. He bit his lip. "How do I know that you're right?"
"Of course I'm right." She scoffed, flipping her hair over one shoulder and cocking a hip to the side. "Don't you know that I got the highest score in plant detection?"
He hadn't known that – he never bothered to learn, assuming that she would be dead straight off the podium, that she wouldn't even be a contender at the end. Now look at her, still as alive and annoying as ever. Still, he wasn't convinced. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more he began to believe that he was right and she was not.
Although he was no expert in agriculture, he remembered seeing those berries at the back of the bakery where a bramble bush had wound its way up the high-wired fence. Back when he was a little boy, he'd stupidly attempted to eat one of them. His mother had slapped him hard before he even came close, shouting ferociously that if they had even touched his lips, he'd have been dead in a minute. He never touched them again.
Foxface was growing impatient, shaking her outstretched palm in his direction. The berries rolled about in it. They looked deadly. He grinned at her, an idea blossoming in his mind.
"Fine, then. How do I know you aren't trying to trick me into eating poison? If you're so good with plants, you could easily fool me into eating something lethal." He smirked at her, challenging.
She took the bait. "Would it make you feel better if I ate some first?" she cooed. "I'm not nervous, but they wont have any negative effects on me. Just you watch."
Raising her cupped hand to her chapped lips, she tilted it so several berries rolled off her palm and into her open mouth. Swallowing them down, Foxface smiled triumphantly. "There!" she exclaimed, obviously satisfied. "Like I said, I'm still alive and breathing."
"Give it a minute," the boy said back, pretending to be defeated. "I just need to be sure."
Foxface shrugged carelessly, as if she were only humouring him by waiting. Her face went red and she didn't even notice. She coughed violently then straightened up, brushing it off as nothing. The second time this happened, her eyes went wide and panicked.
"Peeta," she rasped desperately, and then coughed again. "Peeta, get me some water! I th-think there's something s-stuck in my throat." Clutching at her stomach, she keeled over. Her breathing became laboured and her body contorted with the strain of trying to pull air into her lungs, to keep herself alive.
Motionless and watching her struggle, Peeta counted down the seconds she had remaining in his head. Ten, nine, eight, seven… he felt almost bad. If he had killed her himself, at least it would have been a quicker death, less of a struggle for her.
She gasped one more breath at three. Her body stilled at two. The cannon sounded at one. Just like that, Foxface was dead. Now there were only three of them.
Sitting around staring at her dead body was making him nervous so Peeta dragged it into the bushes and left it there for the Capitol to come collect. Heading back to the cave, he couldn't help but wonder why the other boy still wasn't back. It had been well over an hour now, and the shadows cast across the floor by the sun were beginning to bend and curve the other way.
Tucking both his dagger and his smaller knife into his pocket, he decided that going out to search for Cato would be the most productive option. As far as he was concerned, there was no point at all in him sitting around here and worrying himself half-to-death while he waited for the other boy.
Just as he emerged from the cave, the boy in question barreled out through the trees looking absolutely livid. He was panting, out of breath, shirtless and shoeless, dripping wet and clad in nothing but his pair of trousers. In one hand he carried his sword, blade facing the ground, and his boots strung together by their laces. In the other he clutched at a bundled up ball of messy clothes that had obviously been collected together in a hurry.
As soon as he saw Peeta, his grip on them went lax with relief and everything he was holding tumbled down to the floor. The sharp metal of his weapon missed his feet by mere inches, but he didn't even seem to notice. Cato was at his side in an instant; still slightly frantic, he poked and prodded at the other boy like he had to make sure he was really there.
"I heard the cannon," he explained, waving an arm through the air haphazardly to convey his distress at this. "I thought you'd died, I thought… God, I was so worried."
"No, that was Foxface. It's kind of a long story but besides that, where the hell have do you think you've been?" Peeta snapped back, talking over the boy's babbling. "I was waiting for you for ages and you didn't even show. Do you have any idea how much you scared me?"
Looking suitably guilty, Cato cast his eyes downwards. "I'm sorry," he muttered softly. "It was… I was being stupid. I shouldn't have just left you here on your own like that." Stepping closer to Peeta, he flattened a palm against his chest, felt the steady thump of the other boy's heartbeat against his hand.
"Damn right you shouldn't have." Deeply annoyed, Peeta brushed the hand off him, pointedly ignoring the kicked puppy dog expression that crossed the boy's face. "If you're so sorry, tell me what the hell you were doing that took two fucking hours."
"Swimming," Cato replied smoothly. He was fast – too fast.
"Oh right. Sure you were," the other boy bit back sarcastically. "You scared me out of my mind for no good reason so you could spend two hours lounging around the river, did you?"
"No! It wasn't like th…" he started to say, then trailed off when he realised his mistake. "I mean, uh. Yes, and I'm very sorry? Like I said, it was really stupid. I'm sorry, Peeta."
Rubbing a hand across his temple, the younger boy sighed. "Stop lying to me."
"I'm sorry," Cato replied instantly. It was almost funny. Only a week ago, Peeta would have had to claw an apology out of him. Now he gave them out liberally. "I was just looking for Thresh. I thought maybe if I picked him off on my own I could keep you out of danger or something. It was so stupid. I heard the cannon and I just… I didn't know what to do. If you died… Fuck. I can't. I don't know what I'm going to do, Peeta."
His words became choked and strangled at the end, like he had to force them out. It was only then that Peeta noticed how he was shaking violently, his hands twitching nervously at his sides like they needed something to hold on to for stability again.
"You really are stupid sometimes," Peeta replied, shaking his head. He couldn't quite keep the soft fondness out of his voice. "You don't need to protect me from anything. I can take care of myself, you know."
"I know," Cato mumbled back. "I'm sorry."
Smacking him lightly in the chest, Peeta rolled his eyes and laughed. "Stop saying that so much. It loses its worth if you use it every five seconds."
"Oh, right. Sorry." He made a face as soon as the word left his mouth, obviously annoyed with himself. "We don't really do the whole apology thing too much in my district," he said by way of explanation. "I haven't had much practice."
"It's okay," Peeta replied. "We're okay." Reaching out, he took hold of Cato's hands and squeezed them tightly. After a moment, the other boy squeezed back and they exchanged a small smile. "You're still stupid, you know," he added a few seconds later, and Cato laughed.
"Yeah, I know." He grinned and just like that, everything was back to normal. "Let's go and find him together or something, yeah? Team work and all that crap."
"Yeah, alright." Nodding, Peeta let go of his hands and helped to round up his clothes. They were still a team, then. Even now, down to the last three, they were still a team. He felt a surge of something in his chest – pride, maybe? Whatever.
Either way, he'd known that Foxface was wrong about Cato.
He smiled to himself as the older boy laced his boots into two clumsy bows, and didn't let himself think too hard about the fact that there was only one Tribute left before the pair of them were enemies, direct opponents who would be fighting against each other. No. It was too painful.
A/N: Hello, hello everybody! As always, thank you for reading and if you have time, please leave a review and let us know what you think. We'd love you for it - any and all feedback is very much appreciated. You'll probably be pleased to know that our exams are nearly over and we have the bulk of the next chapter already written so it shouldn't be too long before our next update! Thank you all for your patience and for sticking about with us. PS, if you're bored we have a few other Peeta/Cato stories floating about, you should check those out too, heh heh. Have a nice week and hopefully we'll see you around soon!
