You guys are so great, seriously. I hope y'all like this chapter. I wanted it to be emotional but I'm afraid I over did it. I might wait a few days to post Chapter Twenty, the last chapter. It just depends on what I'm doing for the next few days.
shay98: Thank you so much! It means a lot. Seriously. One might be in the works already, you never know!
DrarryFrerard: haha, thanks! I really try to make it like that. Enjoy this chapter!
HungerHead4978: That means the world to me, really! Sometimes, I do doubt my writing but you made me feel so much better, thank you! And I love the fact you stay up all night reading this. It just makes me feel so good. I know! I'm so in-love with Peeta and Cato too. They just click so well. I hated and loved writing the ending and I'll be honest, I cry each time I read it. I'm working on a sequel to this, I'll be honest. I don't know when it'll be finished because I'm torn on which way to go with it but I'll also be working on a Walking Dead fanfic if you watch that show. It'll be Glenn/Daryl and when it's finished, I plan on posting it.
SakuraDrops141: Thanks so much, it means a lot! Hope you enjoy this chapter!
MangoMagic17: Thank you so much! I'm glad to see you back and enjoying the rest of the chapters. I'm actually working on a sequel but it'll probably be a while because I'm torn as to what direction to take with it. So, enjoy this chapter! I'll let you know when I complete the sequel and put it up!
ENJOY GUYS!
Chapter Nineteen.
"Don't you die on me, 12! Goddamnit, fucking Peeta, you fucker! Open your eyes, right now. Right goddamn now!" Cato is yelling, his voice thick and shaky. "Don't you do it, I swear to god, fuckfuckfuck." he can feel the flutter of hands on him, hear the ripping of fabric. "Holy shit. Peeta, please. I can't do this, oh god." he sounds so sad, so upset, so broken. He tries to open his eyes but he feels like they're glued shut. He tries to open his mouth to speak but his lips are sealed. It feels like he's in a dream, Cato sounds far away yet close, he can feel hands on his body but they're just flutters, light and in a haste. "I can't live without you, Lover boy, c'mon. C'MON!" there's a faint sobbing sound and he realizes it's Cato. No, Cato is crying over him. He doesn't want Cato to cry. He wants Cato to be strong, Cato to prove to the world he can do anything and not shed an ounce of guilt for it. No, Cato, don't cry. He feels a sharp pain in his right shoulder, so close to his heart, and that's when a sound leaves his lips. It's a pained little grunt and Cato freezes, a sniffling filling the air. "Peeta?"
Finally, his eyes are opening. He blinks a few times as the world spins and everything sets in place. The golden ceiling is above him, gleaming in the sunlight shining in, and then Cato's face is there, blue eyes glassy, cheeks glistening with tears and still streaking with them. His red lips are quivering and he looks so weak, so open and exposed. Peeta wishes he wouldn't look like that because it's tearing him up on the inside. "Peeta, oh my god, Peeta." he breathes in relief, reaching up, touching his face, his eyes wide in disbelief. "Please, say something, holy shit, say something, 12."
"I love you." Peeta whispers, his voice low, weak, shaky.
Cato laughs, a shaky, uneven laugh, and his tears drip down and land on Peeta. "I love you too, Peeta. Fuck, do I." his eyes drift down and he clenches his jaw. "Stupid bitch," he grumbles, touching something. Pain flares through Peeta and he gasps, gritting his teeth. "Fuck, sorry," Cato mumbles, his eyes returning to Peeta's face. He sets his jaw in place. "You idiot, jumping in front of me like that!" he whispers. "You better hope this arrow kills you or else I will."
The threat is so hollow and it just doesn't suit him right now, not with his glistening cheeks, glassy eyes, and quivering lips. Peeta gives a weak laugh and coughs a little, the movement jarring his shoulder and sending pain through him. "Liar," he wheezes out, staring up into Cato's eyes.
Cato swallows. "Yeah, I am," he whispers and looks back down. "You aren't going to die from this. You aren't." he says.
Cato just admitted to be a liar and so of course, Peeta doesn't believe him but he humors him anyway and nods. "I know," he whispers shakily.
"You aren't, you hear!" Cato suddenly yells, glaring at his face. "I'm not lying this time, you aren't!" he takes a deep, steadying breath and reaches up, wiping his cheeks off angrily. "I can't take it out, right?"
"It's not recommended," Peeta croaks out, closing his eyes against the pain, the pain in his body, the pain of seeing Cato so torn up. Torn up over him. It makes his beating heart flutter but it lowers itself quickly, considering an arrow is lodged just above it.
"Fuck, I hope it didn't nick your heart. Oh god." Cato whispers, shaky hands landing on his stomach and flattening out. "I'm going to kill her-"
"Wait, you didn't?" Peeta squeaks out, his eyes shooting open.
Cato looks at him, looking as if he had forgotten he was awake. He grits his teeth and looks back down. "I almost had her. I think I broke her arm so she won't be using that fucking bow of hers. But Thresh got me off before I could snap her neck." his eyes become hard and angry and his fingertips dig into Peeta's stomach but he barely takes notice. The pain is elsewhere anyway. "I killed Thresh and got a hold of Foxface. Katniss was long gone by the time I finished. Thresh was fucking tough." that's when Peeta sees it: the blood all over Cato. He was nearly covered it in from head to toe. His face was splattered with it, smeared from his tears, his torso was soaked with it, and his legs were halfway soaked with them. Peeta thinks most of it came from him. He swallows hard and stares at Cato, taking him in.
"Are you hurt?" he asks slowly, his voice weak-sounding, even to his own ears.
"Thresh cut me on my arm but it's not bad. You're more important." Cato says, reaching up and running his fingers down the side of his face.
Peeta closes his eyes and savours the feel of his fingertips on his face. He's afraid he won't feel it again. And he's okay if he dies. He doesn't want Cato to suffer, though. He doesn't want Cato to mourn and roll over and die and let Katniss win. No, he doesn't want Katniss to win. He wants Cato too. He opens his eyes and stares up at Cato. He reaches up a shaky hand and grabs Cato's hand, squeezing it tightly. "Promise me something," he whispers.
Cato stares down at him, squeezing his hand back. "Anything." he whispers back and Peeta's heart swells.
He loves this side of Cato. This sweet, soft side that shows affections and his soft feelings so easily. But he also loves Cato's darker side, the one that teases him and presses knives to his throat and gets angry at him and bitches him out. He loves all of Cato, so much. He can't leave without all of Cato. "If I don't make-"
Cato squeezes his hand so tight, he swears he's about to break a bone. "Don't you even dare, Lover boy." he snarls, his other hand tangling in his own locks. "Don't you-"
"If I die, you better fucking win." Peeta interrupts him in a haste, his voice raising and breaking.
Cato gets quiet, staring down at him, tugging at his own hair and holding Peeta's hand still so tightly. Peeta thinks it might be bruised after this. "For you." he finally whispers, releasing his own hair and reaching down, running his fingers through Peeta's hair. "But only if you do the same."
A faint smile comes onto Peeta's face and he squeezes Cato's hand back, just as hard, as his vision becomes blurry with tears. "For you," he chokes out and he means it.
...
"Peeta, Peeta, wake up. C'mon, Lover boy." Cato sounds relieved. It must be something good. Peeta forces his eyes open, his head pounding, his shoulder throbbing in the same pain his leg had, but a little worse. He feels like going back to sleep but Cato's smiling face wakes him up. The smile that's reserved for him. "Look." he holds up a parachute, his smile nearly splitting his face. "It has medicine for you. From my mentor. God, I'll have to kiss that fuck if I ever see him again." he says, opening the parachute and taking out the medicine. Peeta gives him a weak glare and Cato chuckles. "Out of thanks, Peeta. Nothing more," he says, his smile twisting into his all-around Cato grin. Peeta's not sure if he loves the grin or smile more. He swallows, his mouth feeling dry and it kind of hurts to swallow.
"So I'm going to be okay?" Peeta forces out, his voice rough. He isn't even sure how long he's been asleep. He realizes it's dark outside and expects he's been sleeping for the rest of the day and maybe most of the night. He realizes then Cato's mentor, not Haymitch, had sent medicine. His mentor must of been saving up and decided to give it to Peeta. He never thought a victor from District 2 would be so touched by their love to send this. But he never thought a Career from District 2 would capture his heart. A part of him wonders if the Capitol actually sent it, pretending it was from Cato's mentor, just so Peeta could live and make it harder for Cato and Peeta to part, for one of them to die to allow the other to win.
"Yes. Fuck yes." Cato says, taking out the syringe. He studies it, a strange purple liquid inside. "I think I need to take the arrow out first." he places the syringe gently to the side and reaches over, grasping the arrow with one hand and placing the other on Peeta's chest. Peeta holds his breath, staring up at Cato with wide, fearful eyes. Cato stares back down at him, with concern and pain. "One," he whispers, readjusting his grip and taking a deep breath, "two." he lets out a shaky breath and Peeta keeps his held. "Three." he jerks the arrow out and it makes a sickening squishy sound. Peeta howls out in pain, worse than the wound on his leg, as he arches up and tears cut down his temples. "Fuck." Cato whispers and stabs the syringe into his arm, pressing the plunger down and watching the purple liquid disappear into his arm. Peeta's breathing heavy, his head spinning from the pain, his shoulder aching. He's surprised when the aching is slowing, becoming a dull thud and then slowly fading off into nothingness.
"That must be the good stuff," Peeta whispers, not feeling the pain but as he tries to lift his shoulder, it refuses. He's sure it'll take a few hours to really kick in.
Cato looks at the syringe, squinting to read the label. He grumbles as he tosses it aside. "Yeah. I don't know how to read all that doctor crap but how does it feel?" Cato asks, staring down at his shoulder. "I don't see any blood."
"It doesn't hurt but I can't move it." Peeta says slowly.
Cato pauses, considering something. "I'm not sure if you'll be able to move it," he whispers.
"Huh?" Peeta looks up at him, his eyes growing wide. What was Cato spewing about now?
"It said on the syringe that it stops the pain... nothing about healing it. But," Cato quickly says at Peeta's fearful look, "All this will end soon and they'll fix you back up at the Capitol."
"Me?" Peeta says, staring up at Cato's soft eyes. That softness is reserved for him too. "No, you."
"What?" Cato's eyes grow wide. "No, no. You're winning this-"
"No! You are." Peeta says, clenching his fists at his sides. "You are. You're winning because you deserve it. You're winning because I can't bear the thought of you dead. I'd rather be dead."
"I feel the same way! And didn't you promise me?" Cato says, reaching up and running his fingers through his hair. Peeta catches sight of the cut on his arm. It isn't horrible, a short, jagged line on his forearm, dried blood surrounding it. He's sure it hurts but Cato's good at ignoring it.
"You promised me too, y'know." Peeta says softly, looking up at the golden ceiling, barely noticeable since the only light came from the oil lamp. It was running out of oil, though, it was dimmer than usual but he could make out Cato's sad features.
"We'll see." Cato whispers and before Peeta can protest, Cato is laying down beside him. "I'm tired. Can you stay up and keep watch?" Cato has his sword close as he settles down beside Peeta. He puts his arm around his waist slowly, his other arm ready to snatch up his sword.
Of course Peeta will stay up. Cato needs his sleep. "Yeah." he mumbles and stares at the ceiling, as Cato tightens his hold on him a little and his breathing deepens. Peeta turns his head and stares down at Cato. His face is shadowed but his features are so soft, so peaceful, in his sleep that Peeta finds he can't stop staring. He's so beautiful, it aches a little to look at him. He wishes he can move but he finds his upper body refusing. His legs move just fine but the shoulder where the pain once was refuses to move, that arm. He can move his other arm but it feels kind of heavy. He sighs, looking away from the angel at his side because that's what Cato is. A angel. His own personal angel that he'll love and treasure. An angel with black wings dipped in blood, his personal dark angel that he'll never forget, no matter what happens. He feels Cato's arm jerk a little and looks at him, his brows furrowing in worry. His face is twisted up, the peace gone, fear in replace of it. "Cato?" he whispers a bit nervously. Cato lets out a heavy, shaky breath and his arm tightens around Peeta. His jaw clenches and he twitches again, letting out another breath. "Cato." Peeta says louder and as Cato jerks and lets out a small cry, Peeta hears a loud and long howl follow it. He jerks, lifting his head and looking to the mouth of the Cornucopia. The howl sounds again and then more and as Cato whimpers and jerks again in his sleep, his breathing growing heavier, Peeta sees a flash of something outside, at the edge of the forest. His heart drops. It looks huge and the howls are close now. "Cato!" he says, grabbing his arm and shaking it.
Cato jerks awake, panting, sweat dripping down his face. "What, what?" he says, looking around, his sword in his hand.
Before Peeta can answer, another howl fills the air and as they both jerk their heads to the mouth of the golden horn, something tall stands on legs, its body huge and bulky, its legs large, its hands equally large and long, razor claws extending from each finger. This isn't a normal animal. It's Capitol-made and as Peeta sucks in a sharp breath, it's dropping on all fours and stalking into the Cornucopia. As it comes into the dim light of the oil lamp, an inhuman growl leaving its parted lips, revealing rows of sharp, sharp teeth, Peeta sees its eyes. Its eyes. They're nearly as dark as the night and they gleam dangerously, with blood lust. Peeta's seen those eyes before. Peeta's seen the life go out of of those eyes before. The thing's large body is covered in fur, sleek black fur that looks more like soft, black hair. He can only manage a shaky whisper before the thing jumps at them.
"Clove."
...
I really can't believe there's only one chapter left. You guys are going to be reading the ending to Keep Your Enemies Closer soon. Ugh, it kills me a little. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter and the last one will be up in a few days! Much love. Till next time, my lovelies.