Oh. My. God. Guys. I am so sorry for disappearing like I did. I honestly feel so horrible and I know, I have the right to be. All I had to do was proofread these and put them up. I'm not going to spew excuses or anything but I will say it's all my fault. It was just sheer laziness, the muse breaking away for a while. Guys, I am so sorry for leaving you for so long without an update. I can only hope you'll keep reading and still love me. The thing that made me come back was cleaning out my email inbox and seeing some of your reviews. I love this story and I am going to put the other chapters up. I am not leaving again and I am still so sorry. I can only hope you guys are still willing to stick with me and finish this. Even if not, I will put the rest of the chapters up. Guys, I love you and I couldn't be more sorry.

Setsuna Hyuga: I am so sorry for leaving! I hope this chapter makes up for it. I tried to keep it on the lighter side as it went on. After all, we all need a break from the tension. I hope you're still with me, love.

SakuraDrops141: I'm so glad you enjoy this story and I really hope you'll come back and finish it. Thanks for reading and hope you stick with me, much love.

Lolitadelirium: I hope this chapter makes up for the long disappearance. I tried to keep it more happier for our boys. Much love, hope you can forgive me.

Myurra-K: Even with me writing the chapters in advance, I take forever to update. I'm an asshat, I know. I hope I can make up for it with the future chapters. Much love to you.

MangoMagic: So glad you enjoyed it and I hope you'll enjoy this very belated chapter. I'm not going to leave this again, promise.

peetatolove: I really hope you're willing to come back to this and finish it.

HungerHead4978: Oh my god, I am so glad this inspired you. I will certainly check it out when you write it! I really hope the future chapters will make up for my disappearance.

MinnerGirl1921: Really hope you're still with it! Much love.

huyandhieu: So glad you're loving it. I hope you keep loving it. Thank you so much.

Bruno: I am sosososo sorry. I'm back and I promise, I won't leave again till this is done.

Guys, I feel so guilty. Forgive me and let's finish this story! Love you all.

Chapter Sixteen.

Darkness is closing in on him. It feels like he can't breathe, the darkness is so thick, so close. He tries to breathe, tries to get air in, but it just refuses. He tries to move but he's stuck, staring into darkness, not able to move his head to find some light. His lungs are beginning to burn and he's panicking, this inhuman wheezing sound coming from his mouth, when he sees it. A bright light, ahead. As he fixes his eyes on it, he can move. His feet are running and as he draws closer to the bright light, the air becomes thinner, easier to suck in and breathe. He sucks in lungfuls as his legs run and he's falling into the light. It's a hole and he's falling through a blinding light, squeezing his eyes shut as he's blinded. He lands on something hard, the air leaving him, and his eyes shoot open. He can't get any air in from the fall and it reminds him when he fell in the training center. The memory is fresh, he can still feel the thick net underneath his hands, the panic as he fell, and the way the air was sucked from his lungs as he landed. It's like that now, air refusing to go down his throat but as he lays there, his eyes burning from the bright light, the air has returned and he can properly breathe.

He leans up on his elbows and sucks in a sharp breathe. Around him is all darkness, a bright light shining down on him. He hears a whisper then. It's soft and nearly silent. "Peeta." he jolts, looking for its speaker because all he wants to see is him. "Peeta." it's another voice then, a harsher tone, an angrier tone. He doesn't want to see her again. He struggles to get to his feet but he's too afraid to step into the darkness. "Peeta." there's his voice again and his lips part, to call his name, but he can't find his voice. He's there then. Cato steps from the darkness, into the light, and looks like his usual self. Smug, beautiful, cocky, sexy, arrogant, Cato. Peeta reaches out, his fingers shaky, but Cato steps back from his fingers. He opens his lips again, to ask why, but no words come. "Peeta." Cato hadn't spoken, no, this was her voice again and it was closer. Peeta takes a step towards Cato just as the tip of an arrow pierces through his heart, blood dipping from it, blood beginning to soak through his shirt, darkening it. Peeta feels like all the air leaves the room and his hands shoot out as Cato looks down, shocked. Finally, Peeta finds his voice. "CATO!"

A hard slap makes Peeta come too. He gasps, his body shooting into a sitting position. Sweat drips down his face and his wild, blue eyes take in his surroundings. The empty Cornucopia is dark, the only providing light from a oil lamp that Cato had gotten from the tent, untouched from the explosion of supplies. A sleeping bag is rolled out beside him but unused and Cato is hovering over him, annoyed and worried and angry all at once. Peeta's cheek is stinging and he lets out a shaky breath, realizing he was dreaming and Cato had slapped him awake. Cato sits back on his heels, taking a deep breath. "Christ, Lover boy. What were you dreaming about?" he asks.

"Wh-why?" Peeta gets out, his throat feeling dry, his tongue feeling heavy. He can still see it: the arrow tip, the blood, Cato's shock. Still hear it: Cato's voice, Katniss' voice, his shaky breathing. Still feel it: his panic, his fear, his worry, his anger. He trys to normalize his breathing, since he's as safe as he can get and Cato is alive, breathing, living, no arrow tip sticking from his chest. Peeta's eyes drift to his chest and stare, his breathing slowing down.

"You were thrashing around and mumbling and then you screamed my name. Scared the living shit out of me." Cato says and Peeta's eyes shoot to his face. He can see it, the fear behind the annoyance and concern. Cato breaks the eye contact, looking towards the mouth of the Cornucopia. "What was the dream about? Obviously, I was the star of it." he lets a smug grin touch his lips but it doesn't reach his eyes.

Peeta feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest. He's moving before he realizes it, wrapping his arms around Cato's neck and burying his face in his neck. He's shaking, like a leaf stuck in a wind storm, and he feels the sting of tears in his eyes. Even though the surroundings had been so unreal, seeing the arrow tip in Cato's chest, the ruby blood, the shock on Cato's face... it had felt real. "She shot you." he manages to get out in a shaky, little whisper that sounds pitiful since it's so thick with his unshed tears. He refuses to cry, he won't cry.

"Hey, hey." Cato doesn't have to ask who she is or what shot him. He knows. Of course he does. He wraps his arms around Peeta, a bit awkwardly, and begins to rub his back. "I'm here." he mumbles, holding Peeta to him, hoping he wouldn't cry.

Peeta knows Cato is probably feeling awkward and would much rather not be doing this but this is what Peeta needs right now. That's the only reason Cato hasn't shoved him off and told him to quit being a baby. He understands Peeta needs to hold him, assure himself he's there and breathing and not going anywhere. He doesn't need to push his luck though and slowly, he pulls away and Cato releases him quickly, a light dusting to his cheeks. It's cute but Peeta won't say that, Cato would punch him instead of slap him. Cato looks at him as Peeta sits back, wiping his face off and feeling his stinging cheek. Cato smirks a little. "Does it hurt?" he asks, his smirk growing.

Peeta gives him a slight glare. Of course Cato would find that amusing. "Yes, it fucking hurts." he snaps, a bit hurt by his amusement of his pain that he caused. But, this was Cato. It was a part of Cato and just like that, the hurt is gone and he rolls his eyes at Cato and lays on his back.

"Touchy." Cato says, obviously amused by Peeta's annoyance. He looks back to the mouth of the Cornucopia and leans back on his hands. Peeta looks up at him and the light is catching him just right, his jawline looking square and strong, his cheekbones high and sharp, his eyes blue and icy, his lips thin and pink, his nose straight and narrow, his hair messy and looking nearly see-through in the dim light. He's beautiful. So beautiful, it makes Peeta's heart ache a little. He wonders if Cato knows how beautiful he is. Cato must know he's good-looking, of course. But he wonders if he knows he's beautiful, not just hot or sexy.

"You're beautiful." the words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. He freezes up, wondering if Cato would lash out for using such a girly term on him.

But instead, Cato laughs, a deep rumble that sends a shiver down Peeta's spine. "Beautiful?" Cato repeats, looking at Peeta, his face in the shadows, the color of his eyes darkening.

Peeta nods, a smile forming on his lips. "Beautiful." he repeats.

Cato scoffs, rolling his eyes, but Peeta can see something there, something soft. That same softness that he has witnessed only a few rare times before. Cato looks straight ahead again, that rare smile playing on his lips, and Peeta's heart soars. "You're not so bad looking yourself, 12."

Peeta laughs, looking up at the golden ceiling of the Cornucopia. "Geez, thanks." he deadpans, putting his arms behind his head and stretching out. He won't be getting back to sleep, not after that nightmare. "If you want," he says after a few beats of silence, "You can go to sleep. I won't be able to now."

Cato is quiet for a few minutes, staring out into the darkness, barely lit up by the moonlight. "I think I'll stay awake." he whispers.

Out of the corner of his eye, Peeta can see his fingers curl into the grass, the muscles in his arms tensing. His brows furrow. "Why? Don't trust me? Think I'll slit your throat while you sleep?" Peeta teases lightly but really, he wants to know why Cato is tensing up, looking uncomfortable.

"Shut up, Lover boy." Cato scoffs, shaking his head. Silence grows between them again and Peeta waits, patiently, for Cato to say why. "I..." he pauses, glancing down at Peeta and biting his inner cheek. Peeta frowns. He has a feeling Cato's thinking of the Capitol, listening in, wanting to hear his weaknesses.

He stretches his arm out, his fingers finding Cato's hand. His fingers curl around his hand and squeeze. He feels Cato squeeze back. "I'm the only one listening," Peeta whispers, his thumb creating circles on the back of Cato's hand. Peeta feels pride swell up in him as the tension slowly leaves Cato and he takes a deep breath. Peeta has this affect on Cato, this ability to give him a soft touch, a few reassuring words and calm him down.

His icy blue eyes close and the words spill forth and Peeta squeezes his hand, reminding him he's the only one here, listening, even if it's not true. But sometimes, lies didn't hurt and Cato realizes that too. "I've been having nightmares since the first night. I've barely slept but I just can't sleep without seeing the faces of everyone I killed... hear their screams..." his face screws up, his jaw clenching and his eyes squeezing shut tighter and he turns his hand over, squeezing Peeta's hand almost painfully. "I didn't expect this. I thought I would be strong but I feel all this..." he trails off and his adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. "I thought I'd be able to kill and not have a second thought about it."

Peeta feels horrible. He hasn't even thought of the two lives he's taken. First the girl by the fire, just trying to get warm, and then Clove, a harsh girl but still, another human being. Where has his compassionate gone? Has it all gone into Cato? He feels like they've traded places. Cato's the one with compassion, regret for killing. Peeta's the one with walls up, blocking it all and refusing to think long about it. He leans up, not releasing Cato's hand and searches his face. "Want to know something?" he whispers, a sad smile touching his lips.

Cato looks at him, half his face in the shadow. It suited him. There's this dark side of Cato, beaten into him since birth, but Peeta sees the light side, the soft side that he's never allowed to show before with anybody. The side that needs to be loved. No, both sides need to be loved and the person who will love them is Peeta. "What?" Cato whispers, their eyes locked, their gazes never wavering.

"I've killed two people... and feel nothing over it." Peeta tilts his head to the side, the sad smile still on his lips.

Cato lets his own sad smile grace his lips. He snorts, shaking his head. "Isn't that a little backwards, Lover boy?"

"Exactly."

"I guess we're both pretty fucked-up."

"We can be fucked-up together."

"... Yeah. I guess we can be." it's Peeta who bridges that gap, placing his lips over Cato's in a soft, sweet kiss that Cato's really good at. The softness doesn't last long; Cato forces Peeta onto his back, his tongue invading his mouth as his hands steady himself beside his head. Peeta's fingers are in those light blonde locks, tangling and tugging roughly, making Cato let out a little grunt. Peeta won't ever get over these feelings. The lava in his veins, the pounding of his heart, the way his thoughts scatter and disappear. He manages to rein in some sense though and he runs his hands down Cato's chest, leaving them there. He flattens out his hands and feels Cato's heart. His heart beat is pounding furiously and Peeta's glad he isn't the only one who's this affected. Their lips part but Cato attaches his lips else where, trailing them along Peeta's jawline, sending goosebumps and jolts and shivers all down Peeta's body. Peeta keeps a hold of some sense, barely, and knows they can't keep this up or they won't stop. And he isn't sure he's comfortable with the Capitol watching. Even though he wants Cato like no other, he's not comfortable with that.

"Cato," he whispers into the emptiness of the Cornucopia, his hands pushing on his chest. Cato lets out a small noise of protest against his skin and then begins to suck, sending a strong shudder through Peeta. He gasps out a little, arching up and pushing harder against Cato. He knows Cato has left a mark on him; he was sucking hard enough to leave a hickey that would last a while. Not that Peeta minded. Actually, he kind of likes the idea of Cato marking him. That scares him a little because he knows Cato is possessive and when he claims something, it's nobody else's. Maybe Peeta's the same way because he wouldn't mind leaving a couple of marks on Cato. His mind snaps back when Cato releases his skin and he uses his strength to push Cato off. He knows Cato can easily roll back on top of him and keep up the kissing, licking, sucking, the things that make Peeta's knees shake, his mind muddle, little jolts of pleasure and shock go through him. But Cato doesn't, he lays beside him instead. Maybe Cato feels the same way. Maybe he doesn't want the Capitol to see them in the mist of passion either.

"I hate you." Cato says and it takes Peeta by surprise. He leans up, staring down at Cato, frowning. He remembers Cato's words by the lake, how Cato hates him for making him feel. The words still hurt, they sting his heart and he tries to hide it.

"The feeling's mutual." he finally says, falling back down onto his back. He isn't going to be a wimp and get upset over those three words. He's stronger than that.

"I hate you because you turn me on then leave me hanging. That's the worse fucking thing you could ever do." Cato's words, the way he says them like a child being denied candy, makes him laugh. He's relieved, too. He's relieved Cato hasn't brought up the conversation by the lake, the words he said and the true reason why he says those three words that make Peeta's heart die a little each time.

"I'm sure I could do worse, Cato." he says, glancing at him. His face is in the shadows, his board chest blocking the light from reaching his face. "You make me feel the same way."

"You push me away." Cato shoots back, frowning up at the golden ceiling. He tucks his arms behind his head and Peeta stares at his bare arms. He's glad Cato goes without his jacket, his arms are something to be showed off. They're big, thick, with veins visible and the muscles bulging.

"Because of where we are." Peeta whispers, returning his eyes to the golden ceiling.

He doesn't expect Cato to react angrily. "You're an idiot." he snaps, getting to his feet and walking towards the mouth of the Cornucopia.

Peeta shoots up, confusion crossing his features. He knows Cato is frustrated because he's not getting any but damn, he doesn't have to be a dick towards him. "How am I an idiot?" he asks.

Cato stops in the mouth of the golden horn, leaning against the wall and staring up at the fake moon. His back is tense, his arms crossed, and Peeta just knows he's scowling. Peeta gets to his feet, crossing his own arms and waiting for Cato to speak. "You really are if you can't understand where I'm going with this." Cato says finally, clenching his upper arms in his anger.

Peeta walks closer, glaring at the back of his head. "Talk to me, Cato. I'm the only one listening," he says.

"That's just it!" Cato bellows, turning on Peeta. The sudden yell makes Peeta jumps, especially as it echoes back in the empty space. "You aren't the only one listening because we're in the fucking arena, stuck in the fucking Games! One of us are going to die, these are our last moments together, and you're throwing them aside like they're nothing! Like we have time! We don't have time, Peeta!"

When Cato says his name, Peeta knows he's serious. Or teasing him but usually serious. He stands there, shocked. When Cato's angry, he says his feelings without even realizing it. Peeta can tell by the look on his face Cato's said too much and he turns away, shaking his head. Peeta opens his mouth to speak but he's speechless. Cato can only do this to him, make his mind go blank and words, something he's so skilled with, leave his head. His mouth stays open and before he can even form one word, Cato speaks. "Just forget it, 12." he says, his voice low, almost sad. "The Gamemakers are probably growing bored of this shit. We'll probably have to face something horrible tomorrow and..." he trails off and Peeta feels his heart drop into his stomach. And that means one of them will die, leave the other alone to face the horrors of all this. Because, even though that rule is still affect for two winners, they're both too smart to believe it. The Gamemakers, they're assholes. They're tricking them. It's just a trick and neither Cato or Peeta are falling for it. Peeta briefly wonders if any of the others fell for it. He thinks Foxface is too smart. He's not sure about Thresh or even Katniss. Maybe Thresh and Katniss are on the same team. That's a scary combination. He's brought back to the Earth when Cato scoffs. "Got nothing to say, Lover boy? The Boy with Words has nothing to say. That's depressing." he says.

Peeta swallows. "Then let's make tonight something we won't forget, even after death." he says. Cato whirls on him, shock on his face. Peeta approaches him, reaching up and pushing his own hair away from his forehead. "You're right. They're probably getting bored. Soon, they'll do something... and we might not make it. I don't want to lose you but we have to face it, one of us will die. So let's make the time we have, this short time of peace, something special."

The smile Cato gives him is nearly blinding and Peeta's heart is flying, high above the trees, with the Mockingjays. "The Boy with Words does it again." he whispers, wrapping his arms around Peeta and pulling him closer, leaning down.

"The Boy with the Sword gives the Boy with Words the strength to say the right things. You know that, right?"

"I know that now." Cato pauses, his lips almost touching Peeta's. "The Boy with the Sword?"

"You make my mind go blank."

"Is that a good thing?"

"Sometimes."

"Only sometimes?"

"Well, you get mad at me when I have nothing to say."

Cato chuckles some. "That's true. But I think you like it when I'm mad." he grins, his eyes teasing.

"Maybe." Peeta replies, getting a grin of his own. He leans forward and places his lips on Cato's. But before the brute can respond, he pulls back, grinning more as Cato frowns and opens his eyes. Peeta's grin drops then and his cheeks begin to grow in color. Cato's brows furrow together as he takes in Peeta's expression change. Peeta swallows, breaking eye contact. "Cato... I don't know much about this type of thing but uh, aren't you suppose to have a type of... lube?"

Cato blinks, realization dawning on him. "Oh shit... yeah. You'll need it if you don't want it to hurt."

Peeta's eyes grow wide. "Wait, what?" he says, stepping from Cato's arms. Did Cato just say what he thinks he did?

Cato drops his arms to his sides, frowning. "In my District... we have this right of passage thing that when we become thirteen... we have sex. We get to choose the gender and I chose a guy... you'll need lube if you don't want it to hurt, trust me." he explains briefly, looking away, seeming almost sheepish.

"I'll need lube?" Peeta nearly squeaks. He was not going to be the bottom. What the hell was Cato thinking? "No, no. I won't need lube, you will." he says quickly.

Cato looks surprised. "Me?" he says, pointing at himself. Then, he laughs and Peeta feels a bit of anger fill him. "Lover boy, I am topping."

Peeta's whole face and neck flushes bright red. "The hell you are," he splutters, stepping back from Cato. "I am not going to be on the bottom- I mean, that's so... I am not a wimp!"

"Being on the bottom doesn't make you that, you jackass." Cato snaps, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms, annoyance seeping from him.

"Then why won't you bottom?" Peeta counters.

That shuts Cato up. He looks at Peeta and slowly, a glare sets in on his face. "Because-" he stops and his jaw sets in place. Slowly, a glint climbs in his blue eyes and the glare disappears, being replaced by a grin. "Don't you get it, Lover boy?" Cato says, smirking. Peeta tilts his head to the side, waiting for Cato to continue. "I want to make all of you mine and what better way to do it?"

Peeta rolls his eyes. "I want to do that too!" he snaps, straightening his shoulders and lifting his chin up.

Cato chuckles. "I call dibs."

"Wha-" Peeta stops for a second and shakes his head. "Dib calling, really? Are we ten or something?"

"No matter your age, dib calling still counts. And I call dibs on top." Cato retorts, seeming proud of his words.

Peeta laughs, shaking his head. "No. Dibs do not count and you are not-" he stops talking as they hear a familiar ding outside, a gentle clank. A parachute. A sponsor. They both look at each other and Cato grabs his sword as Peeta grabs the oil lamp. They walk outside together, searching for it, and they find it near the lake, which isn't far off from the Cornucopia. Peeta sets down the oil lamp, lighting up the ground around them and the parachute gleams as Cato picks it up. "Who do you think it's for?" Peeta asks.

Cato shrugs. "Let's find out," he says and pops it open. He takes out a long, piece of white paper and reads it over. He begins to laugh, amusement dancing on his face. Peeta shifts to his other foot, waiting to be filled in on this inside joke. Cato notices his slight annoyance and grins. "It's for me," he says and turns the paper to Peeta, holding it up.

Peeta looks over the black, printed words and his face bursts into flames. "Dib calling does count. B." he reads out loud and looks at Cato's face. Cato squeezes the piece of paper in his hand and takes out the item in the parachute. He drops the parachute without a care and holds up what was in it. It's a tiny, square jar with a silver top. He opens the top and looks at the inside. He sniffs the clear gel and then puts some on his fingers, rubbing it between his thumb and fore finger.

"Well... looks like I get tops," Cato screws the lid back on, smearing the lube all over the outside, "since I got the lube."

Peeta's jaw goes slack. "That is not a rule!" he says, running out of excuses to not become the bottom. Oh wait, the only excuse he needs is to not want it!

"Who said there were rules?" Cato asks, stepping closer to Peeta, a sly grin coming onto his lips.

"Uh, who forgot dib calling? That's a rule." Peeta snaps, glaring Cato down, even though he was almost a head shorter than him.

"Nope." Cato says simply, reaching for Peeta. Peeta acts fast and reaches for the lube, snatching it from Cato. Cato's fast though and latches onto Peeta's hand, his other trying to pry the lube from his hand. Peeta jerks back and causes his feet to slip out from under him. He goes crashing down and Cato follows suit, trying to get Peeta's fingers to let go of the lube. Peeta jerks his hands away and lifts his arms above his head, in a weak attempt to get the lube from Cato. "12, this is childish!" Cato snaps, straddling Peeta as he jumps for the lube, latching onto it with both hands just as Peeta does.

"Dib calling is childish!" Peeta yells, struggling beneath Cato as he trys to keep his fingers tight around the lube. But the outside is slick with some lube and so is Cato's hand and he can feel it slipping and he knows Cato will get it back. Though, it's not like Cato can force him into sex. In the end, Peeta knows he will give in, just because it's Cato and he cares for him. But right now, he'll fight. It is childish but it's kind of fun, too. He can catch the flicker of amusement in Cato's eyes, the excitement. Cato's enjoying this too and Peeta's relieved he isn't upsetting the blonde Career. Suddenly, the lube goes flying, the slickness and force of their hands sending it into the air. Peeta looks upside down as Cato watches it, both of their eyes wide. With a plop, it lands in the lake and disappears into the dark water. Silence fills the air, besides the sounds of crickets and the occasional frog.

Cato slowly looks down at Peeta just as he looks up. Blue on blue clashes and then, Cato's grinning, a sly grin as his eyes dance with amusement and hidden annoyance. "Whoever jumps in and gets it, tops." he says and obviously he's joking but Peeta returns the grin and, with surprising strength, shoves Cato off and scrambles to his feet. Cato shoots up and watches as Peeta jumps towards the lake.

"Pee-" the rest of his name is muffled as Peeta dives into the water, the cold liquid surrounding him and soaking through his clothes. It's cold, almost freezing cold, and he kicks his legs to the bottom. He isn't exactly sure how to swim but watching previous Games, he sees tributes kick their feet and move their arms if they're forced to swim. He feels the bottom of the lake beneath his hands. The soft mud, something squishy that makes him jerk his hand back quickly. Then he feels it, he assumes it's the lube. It's hard and square and quickly, he puts it in his jacket pocket so he doesn't lose it. His lungs are starting to burn, the need for air growing. He isn't use to being underwater so it's happening faster. He jolts as he feels something sting on his hand. It's a sharp pain and feels more like a bite. He feels another, on his palm, and then another and another and they're even on his arms and on his legs. He panics, kicking his legs and flaring his arms, raising to the surface at a too slow of a rate. He feels more sharp bites and he opens his mouth, his lungs burning so painfully. Water fills his mouth and he finally breaks the surface, spitting the water out and coughing.

"Peeta!" Cato says, relief laced in his voice. He's kneeling on the edge of the lake and so he reaches over and grabs Peeta's elbow, pulling him up and out of the water. As he sets Peeta's feet on the grass, Peeta gasping for air, he jerks back, his eyes growing wide. "Holy shit!" he says, staring at Peeta's hands.

Peeta looks down and instantly, panic chokes him. Leeches are on his hands but they don't look like normal ones: they're black but they have a white strip down the middle. They're tiny but they're growing and Peeta can feel the painful sting, feel the flow of his blood going into them as they grow larger, filling their bodies with his blood. He can feel the same back on his arms, on his legs, even some on his chest. Thank god he doesn't feel it on his face, neck or back. "Shit, shit!" Cato repeats, his hands hovering, his eyes wide and at a lost. Peeta quickly strips his jacket off and lets it drop, his shirt going next. Oh god, there's a few on his chest and growing, as they suck the life out of him. He lets his pants drop and kicks off his shoes and his pants follow them and crap, they're on his legs too.

He looks at Cato, who looks into his eyes and he sees the determination there, the sudden fierceness and Peeta knows he's ready to save his life and not let him down. He shoves Peeta to the ground, sitting on him on butt, and pulls out a small knife. Peeta tries to not think about where he got the knife. After all, that could have stabbed him beforehand. "Hold still and try to be quiet." he demands to Peeta and begins with his right leg. There are a decent amount all over him, growing bigger, and he's beginning to feel dizzy, his body slumping a little. They're sucking his blood out so fast- Cato digs his knife under the first one and with a sickening pop, it releases Peeta's leg, blood seeping down from the hole it leaves. Peeta lets out a small cry of pain, his leg jerking out of instinct. Cato grabs his ankle and shoots him a glare before getting back to work. Each one feels worse than the last.

Each time the knife digs under one, the tip barely dipping into the tiny hole they're leaving, the pain shoots through him and he tenses up, biting his tongue hard enough to draw blood. Cato does quick work of his legs and moves on to his chest, getting the things off and tossing them back into the lake without a second glance. He would much rather burn them for touching what was his but they have no time for that. Peeta keeps his eyes trained on Cato's face, the sting of pained tears behind them, and watches as his brows furrow each time he digs his knife underneath one, how his mouth sets in a hard line and his jaw sets in place. There's a pain in his eyes and Peeta realizes this is hurting him, to cause Peeta pain. But he also knows there's that darker side of Cato, fighting with him, telling him this was okay, it was okay to cause someone else pain.

Cato works fast and finally, all the little bastards are off. Cato has some blood on his fingers and the knife is covered in it. He puts the knife down and glares daggers at Peeta. "That's why you don't just go jumping into random lakes, you dumbass!" he snaps, shoving Peeta back. Peeta lands on his elbows and glares up at Cato. Where the leeches were, his body is throbbing in pain and he has a growing headache.

"You said-"

"I wasn't serious! For a smart person, you're pretty dumb." Cato says, looking away from him.

Peeta raises an eyebrow. "That makes no sense." he says, leaning back up. Thankfully, the holes aren't bleeding anymore but he has blood on him now.

"It's true." Cato looks back at him and sighs. "Grab your clothes and c'mon. We need to clean you up," he gets up, grabbing the knife and oil lamp, beginning to walk off. Peeta scrambles up, grabbing his clothes and following after Cato, only in his undershorts and socks. That wasn't embarrassing at all. They enter the Cornucopia and Peeta drops his clothes by his sleeping bag in a soaking wet pile before turning to Cato. Cato lifts the hem of his shirt to his mouth and rips off a chunk of it, surprising Peeta.

"You need your shirt." he points out obviously and realizes, maybe Cato's previous statement that made no sense was true.

"Really?" Cato deadpans and grabs up a canteen before soaking the piece of shirt in water. He walks over and pushes on Peeta's shoulder.

Peeta huffs and stands there. "You can ask me to sit," he says but drops to his butt. He still has a slight headache but without those leeches on him, he's beginning to feel better, his heart returning the blood they took to his body. Cato sits in front of him and begins to wipe him down, slowly, his eyes following his movements. As the blood wipes away and reveals Peeta's pale skin, with barely visible scars that the Capitol couldn't perfect away, he can see that glint coming to Cato's eyes, can see the way his tongue darts out and wets his lips. He wipes his stomach and chest off before doing the same to his legs, lingering too long on his inner thighs where no blood was, making Peeta swallow hard. He wipes his arms off and then wipes his hands clean before tossing it aside, without a care.

Cato takes a deep breath and sits back, shaking his head. "Since you made us lose the lube, we can't do anything but talk now." he scowls but Peeta sees the teasing in his eyes. Peeta chuckles and reaches for his shirt. He pulls it on, it sticking uncomfortably to his body but he trys to ignore it, and then grabs his jacket. That's when it hits him. He reaches into his jacket pocket just as Cato says, "Are you okay?"

Peeta looks up, his hand wrapping around the lube in his jacket pocket, and stares at Cato. His dark blue eyes are soft, worry in them, and his lips are set in a worried, tight line. He's taking Peeta in and Peeta can't help but smile. "Yeah... actually... I'm more than okay." he pulls the jar from his pocket and holds it up. "Looks like the rule of dibs has been casted off since I got the lube from the lake."

Cato stares at the lube, his eyes wide in shock. He opens and closes his mouth a couple times before he locks eyes with Peeta. Peeta knows he looks smug, a grin he could only get from a certain blonde Career playing on his lips, as he stares at Cato. Cato's mouth opens and finally, words come out and it's all he can manage to say. "Oh shit."

...

Hope this was worth the wait! I promise the next chapter tomorrow. Since it's been so long, I'll leave the Question of the Chapter out, only because I want you guys to focus on me finally updating and the chapter! I'm still so sorry guys. Much love. Till next time, my lovelies.