Author's Note: Hello everybody! I'm still sick at home, so I've managed to get out my one-shot and the final chapter of Wrong Crowd in a few days! Please go and read 'Just A Strategic Game,' it's on my profile; you won't regret it!

I just want to say thank you to everybody who has read my story and reviewed, I'm stoked that I have gotten so much attention for my first ever fanfic! Enjoy the final chapter!

Chapter Nineteen – Insane

Cato's POV

I was picked from a crop of 9 year olds and sent into training early. I had a look of hunger in my eyes that was inappropriate for someone my age and all the trainers knew that it was a sign. I was their protégé, the victor that would leave the district as a powerful, fearless tribute and return a blood-soaked killer.

As a child, the older children had been eager to talk to me, wondering why I was the special one. They weren't intimidated by me, knowing full well that I would be kept a secret until I was old enough to win without fail. I would not be picked instead of them for the next Hunger Games. My talent would not be wasted, so for the years that I trained as the only boy in my age group I was respected in a strange sort of way.

Not long after that, I was taken out of school and permanently entered into the academy. I never found out what my parents thought of it all, the only information I got was when I wasn't working hard enough.

"Your father would be disgusted. Do you want to bring shame to him?" They would say to me if I wasn't putting enough effort into training. "Do you want to make your mother cry when you get brutally murdered in the arena?" Over time, the memories of my parents gradually disappeared, becoming the images that my trainers manipulated my memories into. Until one day my most trusted trainer told me that they were ashamed of me and didn't want to see me unless I came back a victor, and I never heard about them again.

I cannot remember when I developed my temper, whether it was always there or if it was forced by my trainers. I just know that once they found out about it, they finally had a way to control me. I spent the next years of my life in a vicious cycle, being psychologically prepared for the games. It was no longer a matter of being strong and well-trained, I needed to be broken and remoulded into a monster. More often than not I would spend nights in cold white rooms, lying half naked on the floor, my face stinging from the backhand that I had received across the face from one of the Peacekeepers as punishment for not doing what was expected of me. Sometimes it wasn't for anything at all.

By then I was an emotionless Frankenstein, my eyes blank and showing no weakness to anyone. But I'll never know if it was their plan all along to drive me crazy, becoming the person I am now. I began to pick fights with past victors, hungry for power. I became very powerful, not only could I fight but I could manipulate everyone around me. I had to be sedated in training sessions on occasion; if a trainer told me that I needed work I would explode, threatening that I could kill them with my bare hands if they weren't careful. Then there would be a prick in my neck and I'd black out into the arms of a Peacekeeper, my limbs shaking uncontrollably as I came back around. No one dared laugh; they were all petrified of me. The older boys, the ones who had respected me as a 9 year old, were long gone by the time I was 17. Some had died in the arena; others had just vanished back into their old lives when they turned 18. I had no idea how they managed that, but to me they were cowards. Now, I wish that I could go back and be a normal person again, not some changed monster. I'm irreversibly insane.

The thought that had kept me going through all of this was that when I won I would be a victor; my name would be remembered with the likes of all the best and most renowned people in District 2. And I would be happy. That little space in my gut would be filled, the one that stayed empty no matter how many hours I trained or girls I took behind the training center.

But lying in the middle of the arena, my arms caked in the blood of my victims, I realised that I had made a big mistake. I had spent my entire life trying to find a form of violence that would make me feel complete, but in reality I had just been looking for someone who could make me normal again. Somebody like Grey, whom I had injured by my own hand; I was such an idiot.

Now what did I have? Parents who haven't seen me since I was 10 years old, friends who are frightened of me, and a girl that could maybe overlook my wrongs but who was destined to die today. Everything I had ever known was falling apart, and what was left when my monster personality was taken away? Everything I had was tainted by it. There was nothing left.

Even if I won I was destined to fail.

Grey's POV

I softly finger the long deep cut that Cato's sword gave to me and wince. My blood has dried around it making it look dirty and infected, but I don't bother trying to find water to clean it in. In a few hours I will either be dead or alive, and either way any wounds I have will be fixed up.

Marvel looks up in the morning light and frowns at me. It was hard for him to keep up his usual upbeat personality with the battle that only one person would survive looming in front of us. We had slept beside each other in the secluded safety of the cave, our hands clasped in each other's in a sign of friendship. Now in the morning light I could feel him try to move away from me, as if he was trying to distance himself.

"Marvel…" I say quietly, "You can go if you want. Give us all an equal chance of winning? No hard feelings." The brown haired tribute looks like he's going to instantly argue against my suggestion but he pauses, realising that maybe it's best for both of us if we split up now.

"But we're an alliance."

"You've done more than enough for me so far, I'll just end up dragging you down. Let Cato come and find me, I'm sure he'll take pity on me and make it quick." I can just imagine Cato holding me under him, his lips softly kissing me as he whispers 'I'm sorry' and slits my throat.

"Aw, I'm so sorry your little boyfriend won't be the one to kill you mercilessly, I'm afraid I'll have to do." A voice purrs from behind me and I know who it is before I even turn around. Marvel is facing the new comer and his face is frozen in shock. I barely have time to turn before a hand slaps my face hard and propels me backwards onto the ground. Spens looms over me and before I can get up he has his knees pressed against my shoulders and a knife held against my neck. I want to scream out for Marvel but even swallowing causes the blade to draw blood.

"You know," Spens muses, "I always hated you. I wanted you to die in the worst way possible while Cato watched you bleed out, completely unable to save you. But you keep getting away and I'm sick of it, it's easier to just kill you now. No more games."
"But first," He interrupts himself in a whispering voice, as if he has two personalities, "I'm going to take revenge on what your boyfriend did to me. Look at what he did to me! This is what I'm going to do to you!" Spens holds up the arm that he had been hiding behind his back and I now see that it's the arm with the amputated hand. He hasn't bothered to wrap it, and the sight makes me gag.

I am ready to scream as his knife slits my throat, when something hits Spens and jars him into me. He swears and swings his head around to furiously glare at Marvel, who is still standing in a spear-throwing pose.

"Why won't you die?" Marvel stamps his foot against the ground in impatience and I don't blame him. While Spens is temporarily turned away from me, I can see that Marvel's spear hit him in the center of his back. I don't know how he's still breathing. I don't hear Spens smile but I can tell from his tone of voice that he's very pleased with himself.

"Marvel… Still so innocent. Ever heard of the fabulous Capitol concoctions? They have everything there; things that would make your mind boggle. A few pin-pricks after training and now here I am; invincible. Ever wonder why I was never around, Grey?" If I didn't have a knife pressed against my neck I would have gasped. That's why he's supposedly so strong; someone was feeding him drugs that made him super strong. No wonder he was able to fight Cato so easily.

"Finnick?" I manage to choke out, bringing Spens's attention back to my face.

"No darling," He coos, making me want to throw up, "Finnick loved you so much. He didn't want anything to happen to you, so when I made my proposition he spat in my face. But it wasn't hard for me to find other people that would do it."

By now it's so quiet in the forest that you could hear a pin drop. With my impending death, I decide that the Gamemakers have put everything on mute; a bird whistling in the distance would obviously ruin my death scene. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye I see Marvel tense up but I'm angled in the wrong direction to see where he is looking. I can only hear him say very quietly;

"We need to go… We need to run. Muttations are here." And the growls of dogs have never made me run so fast.

Cato's POV

The sound of a sponsor parachute approaching disrupts my depressed stupor and I stand up to catch it. For a second I remember laughing with Grey and the other careers when we thought our first parachute was the mines resetting, ready to kill us, and I have to violently tear the gift open to submerge the memory again. Inside the container is Clove's knife, the one which she was holding in her hand.

"This was supposed to stay with Clove," I hiss angrily towards the forest, where I hope a camera will be turned towards me, "Not come back into this hell-hole." I rub my thumb along the handle gently, feeling the contours that my friend would have known from memory. It was only one of the knives that were in the training center, with a cold black metal handle that managed to look modern but ancient at the same time. I imagined Clove would have a whole wardrobe of precious knives back home but as it is prohibited to take any weapons into the arena with you, she had to make do.

I gently draw my finger across the blade, drawing blood. The tip of the knife becomes dyed with my crimson blood and I think back to all the people whose blood has run over me.

I nearly completely miss the note that was included with the knife. It's signed by Enobaria, my mentor. I can almost feel the hatred in her voice as she writes it, angry that I let my district partner die right in front of me.

Cato,

Get on the cornucopia. If you want to win, you'll be smart enough to stay there.

Take the knife, and kill your pretty girlfriend.

E

I clench my fists when my mentor mentions Grey. How could she be so heartless? I wonder how she could expect me to suddenly turn around able to kill the girl that I care about. I want to scream into the camera that I won't do it, but they could instantly kill me if I did that. You didn't just go against the Capitol without severe consequences. I hadn't heard any cannons since the two tributes that I had brutally murdered myself, so that meant Marvel and Spens must also be alive as well. Why would Enobaria only mention killing Grey?

I decide to follow the instructions given to me and get on the cornucopia. It was frowned upon to try and communicate with tributes in the arena, so it must have been difficult for her to send a message to me at all. The outside walls of the structure are slippery and smooth and for a few seconds I struggle to get a foothold, but using my arm strength I manage to get to the top. I'm now a few meters off the ground and I can see further into the forest than I could from the ground. I strain my eyes to look for any movement where the other tributes might be and I swear I can see a patch of trees rustling. A flock of birds suddenly fly from that area and I hear a feminine scream and I know that I'm right.

"Grey!"

Grey's POV

Run, run, run as fast as you can. Stop and you die.

I can hear the sounds of my harsh breathing and the heavy footfalls behind me as the three of us run. I can't tell if Spens is chasing us to kill us or if he is just trying to escape from the mutts. They're enormous things, big black dogs with teeth as thick as my wrists. I only got a glimpse of them as Marvel dragged me onto my feet and pushed me to start running.

My chest hurts from screaming so much and through the noise I can't even tell if both Marvel and Spens are still running behind me.

"Keep running Grey, get to the cornucopia!" Marvel shouts out, cutting off my scream. I'm too puffed to answer, and in my stressed out state I can't even remember where the cornucopia is. I pray that I'm running in the right direction, or else we'll all be dead in a matter of minutes. The mutts are running like they have infinite amounts of energy but I'm heading towards exhaustion. I trip a little but stop myself from falling and I know that soon I won't be able to run anymore.

"Grey!" It's Cato shouting out for me, and he sounds so close! It's coming from in front of me towards the right and I adjust the direction that I'm running in. I shout a reply back, telling him that I'm okay, that maybe everything will be okay.

"Ca-to!"

I hear a maniac laugh behind me from Spens and I fling my head back to look at him for a moment, scared he's going to stab me in the back. He dropped his knife back when we started running, but I'm afraid he'll trip me when I'm so close.

"I thought that I wouldn't be able to kill you in front of Cato, but it looks like I'm in luck!" He laughs again and jumps towards me mid-run. Marvel, who had been running alongside Spens so far, grabs him roughly by the arm and pulls him back.

I can still hear the sounds of the mutts barking, it's a horrible sound because the bark is like rasping sandpaper. I keep expecting them to catch up and rip me apart, but the Gamemakers must be controlling them so they don't come too close. It would be too easy to just kill the three of us and have Cato win, but they want to see us be forced to kill each other ourselves. Killing Spens wouldn't be too emotionally difficult, I admit, but I can't kill Marvel or Cato, especially when they have been helping me this entire time.

Suddenly the trees open up into a large clearing and I have a full view of the cornucopia. Cato is standing on the roof screaming at us but it's hard to tell what he's saying. It's a mixture between trying to ward off Spens but call me at the same time making it just sound like a hell of a lot of noise. The blonde tribute looks pretty terrible and even sprinting from here I can see the blood splattered over his clothing.

I call out to him again, telling him that I've heard him and I'm coming. I can't see Cato's expression because in the next second I'm somehow on the ground, struggling to breathe. Spens towers over me and behind him I can see the mutts bounding towards us. They'll be here in less than a minute; we're running out of time.

"Finally, I get to kill you like I've dreamed about!" He's screaming at me, absolutely insane. For a moment I feel sorry for him that the games have broken him so completely. He's irreversibly insane, but aren't we all? He wraps his hands around my neck and I try in vain to buck him off, kicking with my legs.

Then a mass with brown hair dives onto Spens and they roll off me, giving me time to get to my feet. The dogs are nearly upon us, but I don't want to leave Marvel scuffling with Spens. I hesitate for a few seconds, ignoring Cato's screams for me to join him on the cornucopia roof "right at this second!" And then suddenly Marvel is up, leaving Spens gasping for air on the ground.

"Run, Grey! You can win this, follow your heart! GO!" He's gripping my hands tightly as he pushes me towards the cornucopia and I'm smiling at him because he's going to come with us, he's going to survive this with Cato and me! But then he's letting me go, pushing me away as he turns away from me, pulled back towards Spens. I don't know if it was by choice or if Spens grabbed him, but I see Marvel's eyes for a moment and then all I can see are dogs.

"No, Marvel!" I scream out, frozen in place. There's screaming, and dogs, and blood. Lots of blood everywhere, why is there so much blood? Then strong arms are wrapped around me, pulling me upwards and I realise that I've backed up against the cornucopia and Cato is pulling me up. I try to struggle but he has his arms locked around me and I know he's not going to let me go. He's stroking my hair over and over, trying to pull my gaze away from what's happening below us.

BOO-BOOM

The two cannons go off simultaneously so it almost sounds like only one person has died. But I know the truth because like a switch has been flicked in their heads, the mutts run back into the forest and disappear, deleted from the arena. I can't draw my eyes away from the bloody tributes. I can see clumps of hair and a part of Marvel's shirt but apart from that I can barely tell Marvel and Spens apart through all the blood. I want to go down to see them, to say goodbye to Marvel. Marvel saved my life; I would already be dead if it wasn't for him. But Cato is holding me tightly and I can hear his breaths catch in his throat from the shock.

Suddenly I'm furious at the Capitol for sending those cannons too close together. It's like they are teasing me, saying Marvel and Spens are one and the same. Marvel will never be Spens. And as there's no one else left in this godforsaken arena, I only have Cato to be mad at. I catch him off guard by kicking him hard in the shins, and he drops me, nearly sending me toppling off the side of the structure. I recover faster than he does and I leap at him, baring my teeth in a crazed way. I am weapon-less but livid and I feel as if I could tear him apart with my bare hands. Cato loses his balance and falls down on his back with me on top of him, ripping at his face with my Capitol manicured fingernails. Domitia my escort would be ashamed, seeing as I'm getting Cato's skin and blood under them.

I underestimate Cato, he may be tired but he's got years of training on him that I lack, and he turns us over within a few seconds so that I'm underneath him and at his wrath. His eyes are blazing like fire, but they are ice blue like always, and it's a scarier sight than Spens. I've made him angry. My anger and adrenaline trickles away until it is only fear left. He's holding a knife against my neck, and before it moves out of my sight I recognize it as Clove's. It's got blood on it already and it does nothing to help my shattered nerves.

Cato is expressionless and I know that in this state he could kill me without a second thought. But I pray that my last effort won't fall on empty ears.

"Cato please, I'm scared."

Cato's POV

'Kill her Cato, kill her!' I can hear my trainers, my family, everyone screaming at me through their televisions to kill Grey. I can't tell if it's my mind or if the Capitol really is broadcasting into the arena but I wouldn't be surprised. They want to tip me off the edge, to get me crazy. They know my weakness is my temper and they are trying really hard to set it off as a last minute surprise for the Capitol.

Then the chanting starts, I recognize it as the oath that I was forced to repeat every day before training. It resounds in my bones like always, but it no longer means anything.

I will bring pride to my district. I will do what my district expects of me.

But suddenly Clove's voice comes into my head loud and clear, and instead of joining the throng of voices she's battling it.

I will bring pride to myself. I will do what I know is right.

Shaking my head to try and clear my thoughts, I look down at Grey. She's lying petrified under me, and Clove's knife pressed under her chin means that she's forced to tilt her head up. She's just witnessed the last of our alliance die and now the person she thought she could trust is about to kill her.

"Cato please, I'm scared."

Grey's POV

No one ever wins the Hunger Games except for the Capitol. We're all just pieces in their sadistic game. Even when you think that you've beaten them, you find out that instead you have just walked into their check mate. I thought that getting Marvel and I to the cornucopia would be the end, that the Gamemaker would take pity on us and decide that we all deserved to be winners and we would live happily ever after. It's not until now when Cato is holding a knife against me that I remember how well trained he is for this exact moment. This is his whole life, and he's not going to change. Checkmate, says the Capitol.

Victors never go back to their district and slip perfectly back into their lives again. They live in Victor's Village not because they are admired, but because they are feared. They come back changed, violent. That's if they're lucky. Some stay controlled forever, forced into prostitution by the president himself. Others fall into the abbess of alcohol or morphling because it's better than feeling the guilt. The Capitol always wins.

Cato's face doesn't change when I plead for him to let me go, and I squeeze my eyes shut and pray that he'll make my death quick and not what the Capitol wants. He surprises me when he starts talking.

"No, careers don't die scared. Glimmer, Marvel, Clove, think about them. They died fighting until the end, but it wasn't for revenge or evil purposes, they died to save other people; to save you. Careers have been portrayed for a long time as psychotic and twisted. I can't argue if you say that I was like one of those careers when I came here. And I don't expect you to believe that I've changed since then. But maybe you can understand. If you die proud, then it's like you're sticking it to the Capitol. Even if I was to die right here, at least I'd know that I'm dying because I chose to, not because District 2 decided I needed to." Cato chuckles to himself, as if he's surprised that he's even here telling me this. He could blow us both up just for that speech. I decide to stop him before he kills us.

"Marvel once told me that by dying in here, we're just being freed." He ponders this for a moment.

"He's right. And that's why I'm going to do this. It's because I… I love you. Funny, I didn't volunteer for the games thinking that I would be saying that to someone. I remember when we first saw each other, it was during preparation and I saw you look at me and-"

"Yeah," I smile, "I remember. You asked me to be in your alliance while we were getting our legs waxed." He laughs and I feel Clove's ever-present knife loosen against my neck.

"I'm just made of class." Cato smirks, but then his face falls again.

"I can't let you kill me knowing that I'm leaving you to a horrible future. I've seen victors return only to be dragged back to the Capitol kicking and screaming, destined for a life of prostitution. Somewhat like your mentor, Finnick is it?" I think back to how sometimes Finnick would go quiet and I realize that by being a victor, he actually lost.

"So…" I whisper, knowing that every camera will be turned towards us, our faces on every screen in the Capitol, "By killing me, you're saving me." He nods and then kisses me softly on the lips, the last feeling that I ever want to experience.

"So let's save each other." Cato grins and brings Clove's knife away from my neck, and quick as a flash he slits his throat and then wipes it on his shirt before slitting mine. I don't even have time to scream, I'm too frightened by the steady trickle of blood that is leaving Cato's neck as he kneels over me. I touch my hand to my neck and feel the sting, and I look at my fingers and see that they are stained red.

Cato leans back and sits down, looking a little bewildered. I want to scream at him, what has he done? He's killed us all; literally. I get on my knees and crawl towards him until I'm sitting in his lap, and we wait with our arms around each other.

Suddenly there's the sound of a microphone rapidly being turned on and tapped, and then a voice booms over the arena.

"Wait! Stop this instant! May I present you with the victors of the 74th Annual Hunger Games; Cato of District 2 and Grey of District 4!"

I want to jump and scream; we did it, we won! But I'm tired from the blood loss and looking at Cato I know that he feels the same way. But he's beaming widely and I'm happy for him because even if he has changed, this is what he spent his life training for.

We grip each other's hands, our blood mixing together. My neck stings but Cato knew what he was doing, the Capitol may not know but I know that neither of us will die from our wounds. We're getting out. Together. Guess what Capitol? We win.

Fin

Continued Author's Note: Longest chapter ever! That was the end of Wrong Crowd! I hope that you have all enjoyed the ride, because I certainly enjoyed writing it. I feel like while writing this one story I have improved my writing so much, just looking back at the first chapters shows me that.

In terms of a sequel; at this point in time no, I won't be continuing. I don't have as much of an interest in Catching Fire and Mockingjay and I feel like I would disappoint everyone by writing half of a story but then leaving it unfinished. I think that's unfair to readers so I'm going to stop while I'm ahead. I will definitely continue writing but I might focus on one-shots until I get another big idea. However, I may go through and rewrite parts of Wrong Crowd in order to make the earlier chapters up to scratch with the later chapters. As I said before, please go and read my one-shot 'Just A Strategic Game' which is on my profile now, I would really appreciate it.

I want to thank everyone for supporting me, all the readers and reviews. I can't thank you all individually here, but just know that you are much appreciated! I wrote this wanting my readers to come out with a different opinion of the careers than what was portrayed in the books/movie, and I hope I have succeeded.