A/N: Here's the second chapter- hopefully this one can answer a few questions for you and Cato both. I got this up early to thank you guys for your reviews! Four reviews and ten follows within a few hours? I'm impressed. Here are your spoils.

Also, I wanted to give you a bit of information about my take on Cato so you can understand his characterization a bit better. I see him as still being a very ruthless guy. This is the largest side we were shown of him, and I don't plan on disregarding that so quickly. But I also see his dangerous side as being very bloodline related. His people, his training, his entire life have been surrounded by the idea that death is a good thing. Obviously he can't change that quickly. On that note, it seems noticable to me that anyone who would go such lengths to bring honor to his family must care about them a great deal. So, Cato does have some good in him, especially if he can realize that he was wrong about people. That won't happen for awhile, so I apologize if you don't like dealing with the ruthless side for awhile.

Enjoy!

Chapter Two: The Director

"…This is your chance to bargain for what you want in life. Use it well."

I nodded once, and stepped inside. The door shut behind me, followed by the metal wall, and I was instantly surrounded by darkness.

As soon as the door clanged shut behind me, a withered hand struck a match into a candle across from me. The room lit up instantly, revealing the shadows of a regal looking old man sitting with his back towards me. The oaken table behind him gleamed like fire in the feeble light. He didn't turn around as he spoke, his voice gruff but sickeningly smooth.

"Welcome, Cato of District Two. I am the Director of this humble…factory, as one might see it. You do not need to know my name, and I would advise you against asking of my identity. Any other questions you have will be answered in an interview, of sorts. You may ask the first question, and then it will be my turn. I trust you understand how to play fairly?" His voice trailed off in a bit of a dry chuckle. "Then again, you career tributes often choose to benefit yourselves without regard to the wishes of anyone else. I don't expect you to be any different, but I must caution you. When I am speaking, you are to listen. When I am asking you a question, you are to answer me honestly. You can expect the same from me, until I tire of our little game. But be warned, if I catch you in a lie, I will not hesitate to dispose of you like the rat you are," he stated calmly, using the flame of the candle to light a cigarette encased in metal. He held it in his left hand, the smoke curling up the color red until it vanished into the darkness.

Everything he was saying went against the very fiber of my being. I didn't like being told what to do, or who to respect. That was a right that was earned, not merely understood. However, something in his cool demeanor prevented me from speaking out. Taking my silence for consent, the Director continued.

"Please begin. Your mind must be buzzing with questions." He was right, of course. That didn't mean I had to like his cold assumptions.

"I want to know where we are and why I should bother listening to you," I said, trying to sigh as if unaffected by this man's eerie composure, though inside I knew I was walking on thin ice. He overlooked my act, and answered my question with the full voice of a king lowering himself patiently to his people to hear out their silly requests.

"We are currently in the Education Wing of the Capitol's largest factory. This is where tributes come to be taught about their existence, and eased into their new way of life. My office is the first phase of this adjustment. The Factory is many things, but it is first and foremost a hiding place for people who, for one reason or another, can no longer live on the surface. It exists underground, in an area that I cannot describe to you at this time. You must understand that you and your fellow tributes cannot return home. As far as the Districts know, you and your peers are dead. That is why you will live, work, and thrive here in various wings of the Factory, away from the outside world. Some wings, you will grow to understand better than others. Some, you will never see during the entirety of your long-term stay. You must satisfy yourself with a limited amount of knowledge beyond what I will explain to you today. As for why you should bother listening to me, allow me to enlighten you."

The Director inhaled his cigarette deeply, breathing the red smoke again before he continued. "I am the one who runs this operation, on the under-ground level. This system is much more complicated than you will ever understand, but I am the one who calls the shots down here. I will evaluate you, and determine if I still believe you are as useful to me as I did during your performance at the Games. If I don't find a need for you, I will either send you to the Production Wing, where you will work mindlessly until you die, or I will kill you on the spot. If you make this process difficult for me in the least, I will kill your family on the surface, as well as anyone who ever spoke a kind word to you in your life. It is in your best interest to make this as easy as possible, and the first way to do that is to listen to every word I say. I can make your life paradise, or I can make it hell. It is your choice."

I swallowed deeply. It was a lot to take in, and his words had me frozen. Half of me wanted to flip this table over right on top of him. Before his last answer, I was considering it heavily. But the weight of the consequences was securing me on the spot. I had been trained to be a mindless killer. Death blows were not hard for me to deal. Yet, all machines have a weak spot. And for me, it was my family. He had me trapped with only a few vague words. I moved to speak, but my mouth felt glued shut in what I could only assume was fear. It was a strange emotion. I had only felt it once before, when Clove was dying besides me. But anger had quickly taken over, and I didn't have long to sit within that odd pain. This time, I couldn't find a source to take my revenge out on, and I was trapped with this fear, rooting my mouth closed.

The Director rescued me from my speechlessness. "Now, it is my turn. I did tell you this wouldn't be a one-sided game. First, I want to know your strengths, and your weaknesses. I watched your games, I know you are very physically strong and adept with weapons. But I want something a little more…personable, than that."

My eyebrows raised unwittingly. Why would he want to know about me? He's the one who brought me here, or something like that. Shouldn't he already know what I'm capable of? What was he playing at, asking me questions like this were a quiz? I was afraid of what my answer would mean. Especially afraid of telling someone who seemed to be an adversary about my weaknesses, but if I could give him enough reasons to fear me and very little notable weakness, he might overlook it.

"I'll face any monster you've got and I won't fail at destroying it. I don't get squeamish, and I don't run away from a fight, even if I'm outnumbered. But I guess… I guess it only goes as far as I'm willing to go. I suppose my weakness is my stubborn attitude. If I want to do something I do it, and if not, I don't, and don't you dare try convincing me otherwise," I said quickly, hoping that was enough for him.

He didn't answer for a good long while, but eventually I watched him put out his cigarette on something in front of him. In the dim light, I could see him picking up a small rectangular object. He pressed down on it, and suddenly the room was glowing blue beneath the light of a plasma screen television. I could see now the gray color of his hair.

"I thought we had agreed not to lie to one another, Cato. You disappoint me," he whispered hauntingly. The T.V. jumped to an image, of my family sobbing. They were glaring at the victory train where I knew this year's game victors must be as it passed them by. My throat tightened.

Dad… Mom… Frade…My perfect family.

I told them I would return. Now, I could see their faces when they realized I hadn't. It was heartbreaking. They didn't seem ashamed. They didn't seem regretful. They just seemed…sad. Even Dad's face was streaming with tears, and I'd never seen him cry before. And my brother, Frade. He was always such an open person, wearing his heart on his sleeve, yet there he stood emotionless, trying to be the man I had once been. Stoic, and attentive. I had to close my eyes tight to avoid my own wet eyes.

"You see? I already know your weaknesses, Cato," the Director breathed, while the image changed to Katniss, drawing back her bow and shooting the sack of apples down into my supply pile. I had never known who was responsible for ruining my chances so early, and now fresh feelings of rage poured over me. I didn't even regret it as the scene changed to an image of me snapping the boy from three's neck. I was too angry.

"Your greatest weakness is very contradictory, Cato, for it is both hatred and love alike. Both are too strong for you to handle, though you possess them in equal measures. Here, you will learn to detach yourself from both. It's the only way you can be of use to me. Shall I tell you what your new life is going to be like?"

Determined to avoid being walked over, I crossed my arms and replied "Yes, but before you do, I have another question. It's my turn." The Director stiffened, obviously annoyed at how well I was learning the rules to our little game. "Go on," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"How are we alive? And I don't want a vague answer, I want to understand it all from the beginning."

The T.V. no longer displayed images, but it remained on, setting the room gray with static. "From the beginning? No…No, I cannot tell you that far. What I can tell you is that the weapons in the arena are more complicated than you tributes or anyone else can understand. They don't kill; they create illusions, just like the tracker jackers, only much more powerful. No human eye can escape them. People see very visibly and clearly the damage that a weapon would have created had it actually happened. Even you see your body being torn apart, and you feel the teeth of the dogs, and the stab of the arrow. You feel death, as best as it can be mimicked. Capitol creations, at least for the games, are made to illicit illusions not only to those in direct contact with them, but also in all who can see them. It is how we are able to make very real mutations appear as if out of thin air, how the elements obey our every whim, how the arena listens to the Gamemaker's will. Thus, when our hovercrafts remove a tribute from the arena, it must be decided whether to kill them immediately or to send them to the factory. You have been sent here because I need your skill, Cato, and have deemed you worthy of survival."

It was almost too much to process. I could picture in my mind the faces of people from past games, see their deaths, feel the same need for victory I felt the first time I watched. Yet how could it be, that some of those people were still alive? It was a strange notion that put into my mind just how powerful the Capitol really was. To manage to create an illusion powerful enough to decieve the entire country of Panem… It was all too much. Trying to regain my composure, I coughed once and winced sharply recalling Rue's words as the doors closed behind me: "…This is your chance to bargain for what you want in life. Use it well."

"Whatever skill you require of me, I won't give it to you without a few promises on your part," I bargained blatantly. The director's voice rose a pitch.

"Oh, I will hear out your demands, young Cato, but you must remember what I said about making things difficult for me," he replied venomously. I swallowed hard before continuing.

"I want you to swear you won't hurt my family, nor Clove's, nor anyone from my games. I want you to swear that if my little brother Frade is reaped and killed, you will bring him here no matter how useful he seems and you will make it so we can stay together. I want you to swear that despite whatever laws you might have, I can be allowed to return to the surface in five years time. And Katniss… If Katniss ever crosses my path, you will not raise arms to prevent me from slaying her on the spot."

The Director leaned back in his chair, hand reaching up as though to stroke his chin. It was hard to tell with his back towards me. "This is impossible," he replied blandly.

"Then I'm afraid you'll have to kill me now, else I have no reason to live." No revenge, no family, no hope… It would be better to die now than live without my requests. "Oh no, I can't be killing you so early. You have my promise that I will not personally harm anyone you have mentioned. Your brother would be a nuisance, but I will ensure that it is done. As for your return to the surface, you can return in ten years, not five, and only after serious cosmetic surgery and a change of identity. Once you do so, all agreements we have made will be broken. But Katniss… I cannot allow you to kill her, for political reasons, I'm sure you understand. If it were me, of course I'd be happy to oblige you. Oh yes, I've seen what she's taken from you. How she's humiliated you. Killed you. But she must live, for now," the Director haggled.

I stood in silence for a few moments, drinking in my options. It was enough for now. I could wait ten years to kill Katniss and her Lover Boy from twelve. All I could do in the mean time was get stronger.

"I accept your bargain, Director." The words escaped my mouth before I thought it all through. I was sure I had missed something, but what could it be?

"Excellent. Now, you are to report to Room Eleven here in the Education Wing. Rue is waiting for you outside."

He waved his fingers to signal my dismissal, and I turned around and walked out the opening door. I wish I could understand. Why had he only asked me that one question? Was it merely a warning of how well this strange Director knew me? Or was there some deeper answer that I couldn't come up with yet? Shaking these thoughts from my head, I tried to smile at Rue as she opened the door. I'm afraid it may have come out sarcastic and menacing as always, but I should get points for my effort. She smiled back cautiously as she led me away again. I was feeling a strange sense of gratitude towards the little girl for helping me drive a bargain with the Director. He was an elusive figure, hard to understand, but she had helped me make some headway in my new life and for that I was grateful.

"How did it go?" she asked quietly, as though more afraid now that I was being cordial towards her than she had been during my rage.

"Interestingly," I answered vaguely. She smiled at that. "Good, looks like you've learned to keep secrets as well. You should know though, I'm the person who it's safest to talk to. It's a part of my T.O.S, my Task of Service. You'll be given one too. My personal job is a Guide. It's my duty to know the location of every room within the factory so that I can take people where they need to go. Keeping secrets is a big part of my Task, but I have a big family, you see. They've got a lot they can threaten me with, so I have to obey them," Rue said, wrinkling her nose. I wondered if that was why she warned me to bargain with the Director. Maybe she hadn't, and now it was being used against her.

"Anyways, point is, my job is to keep secrets all to myself. So if there's ever anyone you need to talk to, I'm the one you go to," she continued, seeming slightly satisfied with that job. Nevertheless, I could still see a large amount of wariness in her eyes, whether it was because I was intimidating or because keeping the secrets she knew was harder than she let on, I'd never know.

"Thanks, but no thanks," I replied. I didn't share my secrets with anyone. Secrets made one weak, and weak was something I could never become. Especially not here, in this place that reeked of danger. Rue shrugged. "All the same to me, but you're going to have to learn to trust someone, or else all of this secrecy will start to get to you."

Her second warning in one day. What was my world coming to? Mere weeks ago I'd have sliced her head off for even speaking to me. Of course, that wasn't really of my design, it was the Capitol's. Yet somehow, she was treating me like I hadn't been trying to kill her not too long ago. It was disconcerting, to say the least. I'd never been around someone so easy going, except perhaps my brother. He was the opposite of me- talkative, happy, aloof, and peaceable. We'd always managed to get along, though I never understood how.

This place made me miss him a lot.

"What's in Room Eleven?" I asked Rue, stuffing my hands in my pockets. She attempted a smile for my sake. "Your initiation. I can't say what yours will be. Everyone's initiation is different, but it's a thorough evaluation of what sort of Task you'd be best at. Once it's over, the test coordinator will tell you your Task and relocate you to the wing of the factory where you will live and work. For the first couple of weeks after that, you'll still be able to enter the Healing Wing, where you were first brought in and healed. There are a couple of weeks allotted to make sure you are fully recovered from the experience you will go through during your initiation. So you have to report there for awhile- that's the only reason you were still able to see your fellow tributes to begin with. After we're all done with our recovery, we'll be kept permanently in our assigned wings. But for now there's a bit of a grace period."

I didn't know what to say back to that. I had been given so much information in one day that I could no longer bring myself to react. So what if I couldn't see the other tributes? They all hated me anyway, it was my fault most of them were here and not victors. I guess I did still want Clove's forgiveness, if only because our families were close friends back home. Marvel was a decent fighter. Maybe I could get along with him too.

Rue stopped outside of the next door, a slightly friendlier one than the last, a simple wooden door with no special features of protection. At least, so I thought, until I noticed the faint buzz of electricity running behind it. Rue typed a code on the wall besides it, and it creaked open, shutting off the electricity.

After the revelation of the first room I had entered this one was…disappointing. No creepy directors, no eerie half light, just a blonde woman sitting at an average desk, drinking a bowl of soup and peering down at a file of papers. When I walked in, she smiled and stood up.

"Oh! Cato, dear, how lovely it is to meet you at last. Such a brave fight you put up in the games this year! Pity I couldn't be up there this year to help out, but my current job is just as rewarding, I assure you," said the woman, crossing the room to shake my hand. Her skin was tinted a bit purple, though it had long since faded, and she was adorned in multiple tentacle-like tattoos. Whoever she was, she reeked of the Capitol.

"Not brave enough, it seems, but it's nice to meet you…?" I implored, unsure of her name. She made a little 'o' of surprise with her mouth. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, how horrible of me not to introduce myself! My name is Calpurnia Reese. I'm going to be your test coordinator for this afternoon."

I remembered her. She had been a stylist from District Three. Always suiting people up in strange silver costumes… Not the best stylist, but maybe not the worst either. How she ended up down here was beyond me, but now didn't seem like the time to broach the topic. I turned around to raise an eyebrow at Rue, but the door was already closed and she was gone.

"Now, Cato dear, I'm going to have to ask you to close your eyes…"

A/N: Well, there you have it, the second chapter. I hope to continue updating as quick as I can, especially with how few Cato/Katniss stories there are out there. It's a hard couple to get just right, but I'll get there eventually for those of you who are waiting on that. In the mean time, this may feel a bit Sci-Fi, as one reviewer mentioned. I hope everyone is enjoying it thus far, and please review! I loved your thoughts on the last chapter.