A/N: MAY 7th, 2012. IT'S ALEXANDER LUDWIG'S B-DAY TODAY! That's why I spent like, 5 hours finishing this chapter today. Happy Birthday, darling!

..

Anyways, thank you all SOOOO much for the wonderful reviews and feedback. I tried to get back to as many of you as possible, but I couldn't message all of you, unfortunately. Thank you all though!

I really hope that you enjoy this chapter, I spent a lot of time working on it...4 days. And it was 18 pages. Yes, 18 freakin' pages at 10 pt font. *faints*

Please enjoy! C:

Katniss:

"Where's Cato? Wasn't he keeping watch?" Clove abruptly sits up, clutching at the t shirt with tight fingers. It's still dark, but birds have already started singing their daily sonatas, hinting that dawn is approaching.

I notice the crazed look in Clove's brown eyes. No, it's not insanity, it's concern. She's worried.

"He left again." I answer gruffly, not in the mood for long sentences. All night I just sat here, by the river, confused and slightly angry. Confused on whether what happened last night was legitimate or just a dream, angry that Cato had simply walked away.

"Did you piss him off or something?"

"No," I growl. How can Clove be so alert this early in the morning? Granted, I'm probably acting like a freakin' sloth because I spent half the night staring at little fish dart around in the river, but it's just unnatural to be wide eyed at three in the morning.

"Start packing everything up. We need to be ready to go at a moment's notice." Clove pushes herself up slowly, and then dramatically stretches.

"A moment's notice?" I've never been good at staying up for extended periods of time, and I find myself meticulously processing each word and piecing them together for something to make sense.

"Yeah," Clove snaps sarcastically. "Did you really think that Cato's going to let us lounge around for another day? I bet that he'll be back before light."

Light is in an hour or two. I am about to question Clove; through experience I've learned that Cato is like an experienced chess player- each move seems random, but every action is carefully calculated and planned. And in the end, it all ties together to ensure the capture of the opponent, to ensure that the death trap is inescapable.

I decide to keep my protests to myself. Besides, Clove obviously believes that she's got everything figured out. She is already tucking knives into her belt and packing one of the new backpacks with vigorous intensity.

I sigh and grumble several intelligible curses under my breath as I kneel down and start rearranging the supplies in the other newly acquired backpack.

But then I realize that Clove might be wrong, and we may just be using up time that could be spent sleeping. I can feel a yawn coming on, and wish that I'd been able to fall into the lull of sleep instead of staring at fish all night. I feel a surge of annoyance at my own simplemindedness.

"Are you sure that he's coming back before dawn?" I stifle a huge yawn and pinch myself hard enough to leave a bruise, to try to stay awake.

Clove laughs, and it sounds incredibly loud in the midst of the quiet, dark morning. Then she turns and looks at me, amusement mixed with smugness in her expression.

"Cato knows very well that the early bird gets the worm."

Cato:

I hate myself.

I feel my fingers brush against a flower stalk and quickly move my hand up to crush the delicate bloom. Things like flowers are useless, just a damn distraction from the real world, a beautiful illusion for the weak.

Then why am I here? I almost choke on a laugh building in my throat. Cato, the cold-hearted killer, someone that hates weakness...sitting in a freaking meadow, thinking about a rash move performed at the height of his confusion.

I hate myself for giving into my emotions, for letting the past overtake me and overpower my logical thinking. And that ridiculous ache that my screwed up mind had interpreted as a gap to fill.

Add all of that to the damn kiss that I foolishly gave the Fire Girl. That damn kiss that meant absolutely nothing to me, just a filler for something long gone.

I crush more of the huge red blooms with my hands- I know that the flowers are red because this is the same meadow that I was in yesterday, and imagine that the petals are people, victims of my wrath.

A sudden burst of scent erupts from another patch of blooms that I reduce to shreds with my fingers.

Then I sit up, and smirk.

Panem has experienced only a few sides of me. The part of me that holds back the violence when I'm with Katniss. The part that can kill without a second thought, let alone a first. And the weak side of me that is fortunately coming across as a romantic aura.

I pick which mask will be on top, hiding everything else. Considering the current situation, I believe that the cold, heartless approach will prove quite useful.

Katniss:

"Hey there, early bird." Clove snaps when Cato brushes aside a branch and walks into camp. Then to me, "Told you so."

I decide not to talk to him, and pretend to be looking through my backpack for an imaginary speck of dust.

"We're going. Now." Cato's voice is hard, and I look over to see him pulling on his shirt and hoisting up his pack. He doesn't even acknowledge me, and I feel a pang of annoyance. I just can't hold back the scathing words.

"Are we all going? Or is it just you, Cato?"

He looks at me for the first time since he returned. His expression shows nothing, so I search his eyes. Yes, there's something there…but before I can determine what it is, Cato drops his eyes and answers.

"Would you rather it just be me?"

I hate it when he says things like that, where you can't reply without sounding awkward. I open my mouth, and then close it. To make up for the lack of words, I send him a scowl.

"Don't make that face. You're much more pleasant when you smile." He says, tucking several knives and a mace into his belt.

"Nooo…" I shoot back sarcastically.

"Hey, are you sure that you didn't make him mad?" Clove suddenly says, amused.

We both stare at her, and she backs away, hands up in a mock apologetic gesture. Then she smirks.

"Let's go."

The sky is only starting to get lighter when we step into the leaf-carpeted forest. I feel a sense of security here, walking under a canopy of trees with my trusty bow.

Of course, after fifteen minutes of walking at a fast pace, Cato insists that we start running. I should probably expect it, since almost every time that I've been with Cato, he's forced me to sprint at a crazy pace to match his easy run.

…

"Let's play a game…" Clove pants. "To pass the time."

"Like what? Tag?" My breathing is heavy as well, Cato's been driving us for over an hour. The sky is much lighter, but the sun is yet to rise.

"We're not little kids, Fire Girl."

"Aren't all games for little kids?" I retort. I don't point out the the actual Games are just that, a televised bloodfest featuring…wait for it…children.

"Be that way. I'll just play 'Would You Rather' with Cato." Clove dodges a tree root and continues talking between her short breaths.

"Fine, I'll play, just to make it more interesting for you."I quickly say. This could be a good way to find out more about Cato.

"I'm not going to play a freaking game, Clove." Cato snorts, jogging to the right of me.

"C'mon. It's no fun without you."

"Is that so?" But Cato says nothing else, and Clove grins triumphantly.

"Cato...you're in a fight to the death. Would you rather die quickly and painlessly or slowly and painfully?" I think that Clove is being ridiculous... of course he'd want to die quickly.

"Why? Are you planning to mutilate me and watch me bleed to death?" In the dim light I can see that he is smirking. "And you already know which one I'd choose. To die slowly, of course."

Ok...that was unexpected.

"Why slowly?" I ask.

"So that I'll have a chance to fight. Obviously."

Thanks, that totally explained everything.

Cato seems bored when he poses a question to Clove. "Killed by your lover or closest friend?"

I have to hold back a snort. Even while playing a simple game, all the district 2 tributes think about is violence and killing. I really shouldn't be too surprised.

"It would be such an honor to be killed by the all powerful Cato Greene..." Clove says sarcastically. Or maybe she's being truthful.

"Lover or friend?" I ask, watching as trees pass by in a blur.

"As a friend, obviously. He would kill me if I tried to scoot up to him..." Clove's voice draws to a halt as Cato speeds up, his blue gaze focused on something in the distance.

There is a length of silence, through which we can hear the hooting of an owl and the calls of mockingjays. And during that short time, the sky lightens even more, from a blue grey to a light periwinkle. It must almost be dawn.

"Erm. Here's one for you, Fire Girl. Would you rather have Cato, me, or Lover Boy as an ally?" Clove stares at me expectantly. Just to rain on her parade and tone down some of Cato's arrogance, I answer,

"Peeta. He actually kind of cared about me. " I put emphasis on the last few words, aiming then towards Cato.

"Then why don't you go slithering back to that skimpy excuse of a partner?" Cato asks coldly.

"Exactly my point. Exactly my point." I mutter, wondering what's gotten into him. I mean, he hasn't been this...obnoxiously mean since training.

Once again, I am unsure if what Cato is really like. But he can be so different at times that it's almost impossible to be sure.

Cato:

I am getting frustrated, we haven't found anything yet, and the sun just broke out from the edge of the arena.

Clove is used to this attitude, she's seen it plenty of times when I had to deal with some sons of bit-freaking jerks back home and when I had to reject some hopeful little girl's offer to give me a massage. But Katniss obviously hates me right now.

"Hey Fire Girl. Climb a tree and look around." I order, disliking the feeling of aimlessly wandering and hoping for luck. Maybe she'll be able to see something irregular from a higher vantage point.

"Yes, your majesty." Katniss replies with bitterness in her voice, and mockingly curtsies. Then she walks over to the tallest tree in our little area of the forest and starts scaling the trunk like a squirrel, finding hand and footholds in places that would never occur to me. Then once she is up on the first branch, Katniss scrambles her way up the tree. Soon I have to tilt my head to be able to see her at all.

I have to hand it to that girl... she really can climb.

Clove is scuffing her boot against a tree root, and makes a quiet remark.

"We could just leave right now. She'd come down from this stupid tree and we'd be long gone."

That's definitely something that I would do to someone. But this someone happens to be Katniss, and for some reason I know that I would feel something other than self-satisfaction if I left her here.

I clench my fist. Again, with those stupid feelings. I need to stop reacting to my emotions and focus on the task of bringing down Lover Boy and that giant from District 11.

"She might be useful, unless you plan to climb some trees." Then, I smirk. "And the view from down here isn't too bad either."

Clove shoots me a look that says are you freaking serious? "You don't mean that, do you? She isn't even remotely attractive. And I know for a fact that you appreciate beauty."

She's right, of course. I smirk at her and answer with as much innocence as I can muster without cracking up. "What are you talking about? I was referring to the sunrise, you little pervert."

"Look who's talking. If someone worth your interest were here, you'd be mouthing your face off." Clove snickers. Then she cocks her head to the side and adds, "And you'd probably be hitting up on that lucky girl as well."

I hate how she's always right. I decide not to answer and just send her a smug grin.

"See anything?" Katniss is so high up that we can't even see her anymore, and I have to yell.

There is no answer, and I look to Clove to see if she's heard anything with those cat-like ears of hers.

But she just arches an eyebrow and smiles pleasantly.

"You okay up there?" Maybe she didn't hear me the first time. I cup my hands around my mouth and shout louder.

Still nothing. I stare up into the leaves of the large tree while Clove starts laughing hysterically. I shove her aside roughly, making a mental note to deal with her later.

I step closer to the tree trunk and stare upwards intently, wishing that it was lighter out so that I could see more clearly.

But when Katniss' bow hurtles down like a missile without its owner, I know that there's something wrong.

Katniss:

"See anything?" Cato's familiar voice barely reaches me, even though he's probably yelling. I'm at the very peak of the tree, on one of the few top branches that can support my weight.

I look around at the huge expanse of land laid out before me. I could see the dark greens of the forest around me, and a few places where the trees thinned out, creating a clearing of some kind. Then, in the middle of the arena is the Cornucopia, the lake, and the huge circular field, of course.

And beyond that, the golden waves of grain.

But there's no sign of Peeta or Thresh. They must be hiding. I open my mouth to answer, to tell Cato and Clove that I'm coming down.

As the words are forming, a hand suddenly clamps over my mouth and a pair of arms roughly pulls me downwards onto a thicker branch.

Being the dignified fighter that I am, I immediately bite down on one of the grimy fingers and try to kick the mystery boy's body off of the branch.

"Ow..stop it, Katniss." The boy sounds annoyed and doesn't let go of me, even though blood trickles from the bite marks that I've made on the inside of his hand, I can taste and smell the warm stuff.

It's Peeta. I turn my head as much as possible, staring at him with narrowed eyes. Peeta's face is so mud-caked that I can barely recognize him, and his hair is an absolute rat's nest.

Just because he's my district partner, it doesn't mean that he can just grab me like this. I start kicking and shouldering him, trying to free my arms, which Peeta has pinned behind my back with his free hand.

I need to get my bow….I need to get my bow…

I whip my head back and hear as well as feel our skulls crashing together. Stupid Peeta. Just let me go already!

He grunts in pain but still has me in a tight clamp. I try another approach and bite at his hand again and try to scratch at his arms with my nails.

"Stop it! Do you want us both to fall off?" Peeta hisses again. Out of the corner of my eye I can see him wincing as my teeth sink into his palm.

"You ok up there?" Cato's voice carries up, this time louder. I try to scream through Peeta's hand, but it comes out as a muffled grunt.

I whip my head around quickly, counting on my braid to hit Peeta in the face. It does, but he doesn't budge.

Let go of me, you freaking buffoon. I bump my body backwards in an attempt to push him away. But surprise surprise, he still stays motionless, a bleeding hand clamped over my mouth and another holding my wrists around my back.

Finally I stop struggling and go slack.

And watch as Peeta nudges my bow off of my shoulder with his chin. It drops through the branches, and I can hear the snapping sounds.

I stay motionless, although I'm mentally screaming bloody murder.

"Thank god. Don't even try to call that stupid friend of yours…we both know that he can't get to you even if you scream." Peeta sounds relieved at first, and makes the threat in such a friendly voice that I almost can't believe it.

And even though I look like I've given up, I'm really just thinking of a way to get help. And possibly take Peeta down in the process.

So when Peeta's hand restraining my head movement slackens a little, I take the chance to slam my skull into his face again. I can hear a crack. Hopefully it's his nose.

"What the heck? Ow!" Peeta's hand unclamps from my mouth and goes to his nose, which is gushing blood like a waterfall.

I take the chance to scream as loudly as I can.

"CATO! Peeta's up here!" I scream in addition, before being silenced by a knife that suddenly appears at my throat.

"I'm sending Clove up!" Cato yells back.

"What the hell, Peeta?" I snarl, trying not to move lest the knife cut my neck off. I can't do anything but keep talking and stall for time.

"You helped that stupid bastard kill Rue!" He growls back.

Oh. Yeah. I did…

"Peeta…please. Don't do this." I try to convince him. Hurry up, Clove.

"I knew that you would become like them if you joined the alliance. That's why I didn't want you to go with the Careers. And now you've killed a child. A 12 year old child. It's like killing your little sister." Peeta sounds really upset, and I almost feel sympathy. Almost.

But unfortunately for him, it's hard for me to feel bad for his loss when he's holding a freakin' knife to my throat.

"I really don't want to kill anyone. I really don't. So I'll give you a choice." Peeta continues. "You can become my partner and help me kill all of them, or you can die."

"I'll…" I pause for a moment, pretending to be thinking very hard. "I'll partner up with you." I finally say, forcing my voice to come out choked and full of regret.

"Oh. Ok. Good." Peeta relaxes and brings his knife away from my throat. It's just like him to trust me, just like that. Hah.

"NOT." I elbow Peeta as hard as I can, catching him in the chest. He seems to teeter on the edge of the branch for a short second, then I quickly use both hands to shove him.

.

Peeta slashes wildly at me as he falls, managing to slice at my wrist. Then he is crashing through branches and leaves, crashing and snapping all those branches.

I can hear his yelling become fainter and fainter as he falls towards the ground.

But I don't hear the thump that should announce the event of his body meeting earth. I peer downwards, but being unable to see anything through the lush leaves, I start scrambling down the tree as quickly as possible.

…

When I'm about halfway down, I see him. Peeta seems to have been caught by a large, thick branch, and is on his stomach, grabbing hold of the rough bark. His legs are awkwardly splayed, and I assume that he may have broken or hurt an ankle or something.

I think about going towards him to finish him off, but then I remember that my bow is somewhere on the ground. Maybe broken into beautiful silver pieces.

And my wrist is hurting. It's a very shallow cut, the knife barely skimmed my skin, but there's still some blood.

So I jump onto a branch from the tree directly next to this one and continue downwards.

All the while thinking about how Clove never came to help me. Figures. I growl under my breath and swear to never share any of the meat that I hunt down with her again.

Cato:

"At least you whooped his ass, right?" I put on a tentative smirk as Katniss drops down from the last branch, face scratched up and looking unusually angry.

"Yeah. Do you want a turn now?" She snaps at me. "Thanks for the help up there, Cato. He had a knife to my throat, for your information."

Then she snorts. "As if you even cared."

I blink slowly. I admit it, I had been worried. But I'd never tell her that.

"Clove refused to climb up there. I tried to get her to though," I say, trying not to let any relief or gladness mar the words.

It's the truth. I tried to shove Clove up one of the trunks, but she just sat there, arms crossed. I think that she's scouting the area for food right now. As if she knew anything at all about wild plants.

.

"You didn't care. I know that you didn't." Katniss repeats again. I can see tears brimming in her eyes, and feel something stir inside me. Regret? Guilt? I don't know.

I tell myself that I'm only going to do this once. I'm only going to let my walls down just this once.

"Shhh." I step towards Katniss, who is blinking rapidly, trying to hold back tears. "I did care." I resist from adding "a little" to the phrase. Just this once I'll let my walls down. For a few minutes.

"Katniss, don't cry." I say softly, biting the inside of my cheek. God, why do I suddenly want to cheer her up?

She looks at me, and I see her lip quivering slightly. She's fighting to hold back the tears. I know how hard it is to hold back your emotions, to hide what you really want, what you really are feeling.

"I can't believe anything that you say anymore, Cato."

Then she bursts into tears and starts running.

Katniss:

I feel the hot tears spilling out from my eyes, blurring my vision and creating wet trails down my face. How could he not care? How could he be so indifferent all the time?

I run as fast as I can, one hand trying to brush the wetness away. But the tears keep on coming.

Just when I thought that Cato was warming up to me, he became so cold and distant again. It's like he doesn't trust me with his emotions or feelings.

I've never cried in front of anyone. Not even Gale or Prim. I've always kept the tears in, stoic on the outside to look strong. When Father was killed, I remember staying stone-faced while Prim and my mother cried in the house, filling the small rooms with sadness and loss. Then, that night, I cried myself to sleep with quiet, ever so quiet sobs that I muffled with my pillow.

Then why am I suddenly crying so much? I can't find an answer as I run away from it all. Cato and his cold eyes, his indifference, his smiles and hugs. His kisses. Everything is just an illusion.

I hear footsteps pounding behind me and distantly register Cato shouting for me. Asking me to come back. Saying that he was sorry.

None of it matters anymore, Cato. You'll never trust me enough. Never enough.

I block out his words and stumble forwards into a patch of soft grass. And then I fall to the ground and curl up in a ball and feel myself crying with great sobs that shake my chest.

…

"…Katniss. Katniss. Katniss." I hear a voice repeating my name over and over again, softly and gently.

It is the voice of someone that cares. Someone that worries. I feel tears seeping out of my closed eyes, but they are sparse. I've cried myself out.

"I'm sorry. I really am. I was worried when you were up there. I had to stop myself from climbing that tree and getting you." The voice comes again, filled with sadness and ever so gentle and quiet. Merely a murmur in my confused and dark world.

I don't open my eyes and instead feel another tear making it's way down my cheek. I refuse to look at whoever is talking. Maybe this is a dream. Maybe everything is just a dream. Maybe everything is just an illusion, a temporary distraction from the real world. Maybe…

The murmur seems to fill my mind as it chuckles. "Why the hell am I talking to a sleeping girl? I must be crazy."

I let myself be lulled into fuzzy darkness, guided by the hand that absentmindedly strokes my hair and the warmth that moves closer to my curled up body.

It's not Cato. It's not him. He doesn't care. He doesn't. But as the darkness claims me, I know. I know that it is him.

Cato:

I let her sleep. The sky is getting darker already, I've been in this position for the past few hours. At first she slept curled up, tears still making their way out of her closed grey eyes. And I talked to her.

Then gradually the creases in her forehead smoothed, her breathing softened and her body slowly relaxed and uncurled. I gave up trying to talk, and just stared at her.

I let her sleep through as the sun made its way up to the peak of the sky and slowly moved towards the horizon. I didn't dare leave. I didn't dare leave her alone again and have her wake up with no one there. I don't dare leave now either.

Suddenly Katniss shifted position, somehow managing to throw herself onto me in her sleep. I am laying in that little patch of grass on my back, staring up into the trees. Then I hear a rustle and then I feel her head on my chest and her body sprawled out over mine.

If it were anybody other than Katniss, I would be immensely enjoying the feeling and probably thinking of strange things in my own brain. I would probably also be making several jokes regarding a that certain somebody's performance in…ah, nevermind.

But I feel nothing but a slight annoyance. And even that dulls when I remember her tears, the tears that I inflicted. So I just sigh softly and feel her heart beat against mine.

I bet that everyone watching is taking this in the wrong way. I roll my eyes as her arms move and somehow wrap loosely around my neck. I'm going to have to talk to her about her sleeping habits when she wakes up.

Then I sigh again. What exactly is the wrong way?

Katniss:

It smells like blood. The coppery scent is the first thing that comes to mind when I wake up. Then I move my head a bit. And…oh…

Oh god. I'm practically on top of Cato, who is sleeping. This is strange…and yet I don't want to move.

But I do. When I carefully draw back my arms from his around his neck, Cato's eyes open, a brilliant blue that practically glows in the darkness.

I'm so confused. Why was I sleeping on top of Cato? Why do I keep smelling blood? And wasn't it still dawn when I slipped into the darkness of sleep?

"You're finally awake." He says. Is it just me, or does his voice sound a little weaker than usual? I scramble off of him, feeling myself blush as he watches me with amusement.

"Uh…" I stare at him as he sits up as well, waiting for answers.

"First of all…do you always move around so much in your sleep? And what the hell were you dreaming about?" He smirks.

"Wait, I was the one who moved? Not you?" I love how we're both answering each other's questions with more questions. Note the sarcastic tone in my voice.

He arches an eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure that it was you. I wouldn't pull a move like that on someone like you."

"Someone like me." I repeat flatly. What's that supposed to mean?

"Don't take it that way." Cato quickly realizes what he may have implied, and rushes to clarify the situation.

I decide to disregard that comment, and ask my next question. "How long was I asleep?"

He stretches and grins. "Dawn 'til dusk, sleeping beauty." As he speaks, Cato stands up and gets his backpack.

I stare at his shirt, which has a streak of blood down the side. He looks down at the place that I'm looking, and steps towards me.

"Hey, are you hurt?"

I think about what happened before I blacked out…Peeta and the tree, me crying like a child, and then the gentle voice that I heard…that lovely voice and those soft fingers. I tell myself to snap out of the fuzzy memory and hold out my wrist.

The cut is so small and it barely hurts. A scab is already forming.

"No."

Cato throws me my backpack, which he just so happened to have with him. And then he hands me my bow, which is luckily still intact.

"I grabbed them when you started running." He explains at my quizzical expression. I take them without hesitating and sling both over my shoulders.

Then I realize that we're missing a key factor…Clove. But it's not like I even want to see her right now. Not after the incident where she refused to climb up that tree. I reinforce my mental note to never feed her again.

"Where's Clove? And where are we going?" I ask. I feel like I've missed out on so much, I still don't entirely know how it's possible for me to have slept for that long and actually kind-of jumped on someone in my sleep.

"Oh. Her…" Cato laughs shortly. "I just left her and came after you. But I left something to tell her to try to get Lover Boy. You and I are probably going to go for Thresh tonight though."

"Yeah. That went well last time." I mutter as we step out of the little dip of grass and into the forest again.

The sun is going down, dipping behind the edges of the arena. Hooray for another night-trek with Cato.

…

I point out the direction of the field according to what I remember from up in the tree, and we start trudging towards it.

As we step over a log almost an hour later, I am suddenly aware of how hungry I am. Cato must be as well, or there must be something wrong with him, because he hasn't said a word about running yet.

"Are you hungry?" I ask. Maybe there are some birds in the trees around here.

"Hmm…maybe."

"Stay quiet, ok?" I'm not sure if I'll be able to see the birds in this darkness, but I decide to try.

We walk some more, and this time my bow is ready in my hands, and I'm looking for the plump black silhouette of one of those large birds.

.

Suddenly Cato stops and draws out his sword. His shoulders are tense, and he turns his head quickly, eyes flicking around the little clearing.

Something is wrong. Someone must be here. I lift my bow and make sure that the arrow is tightly fitted, and get ready to point it at anything that looks sinister or dangerous. But I seem to have trouble deciding which bushes look scariest in the moonlight.

Just then, there is a rustling to our left. We both spin towards it, but I notice that Cato keeps turning his head towards our right as well. He slowly takes about eight different knives from his belt and holds the handles all in his free hand.

Another rustle. Cato is so tense that he is practically ready to spring up on his feet. I look around the clearing wildly, trying to locate the source of the noise.

Cato murmurs in a low voice so that even I have to strain to hear, even though I'm back to back with him.

"Katniss, get behind me."

I shoot him a look and shake my head slightly. So obviously, he doesn't listen to me and steps in front of me.

This time there is a huge rustling to our right. We both spin around and then Cato's hand flashes out.

Knife after knife after knife sail through the air, he is throwing them in all directions. Finally as the last one hits the ground, Cato narrows his eyes.

"Who's there? Come out and fight." He quickly grabs another dozen knives from his belt. I wonder how many he had stuffed in there, but immediately bring my attention back to the situation.

And then the figure emerges from a bush, several knives in hand. The knives that Cato had thrown moments before. The boy wears a determined look.

Peeta versus Cato. Suddenly, I feel like I'm about to throw-up.

Cato:

"Lover Boy. What a surprise. I thought that you'd gotten your ass kicked this morning." I feel a smirk lighting on my face. This is a joke. Does he really think that he can go up against me?

For some reason Lover Boy doesn't seem afraid. I find this strange, but go along with it.

He stares at Katniss and speaks. "I'll give you one last chance, Katniss. Join me now or never." I have to hold back a snort and a snickering fit that seems to suddenly want to overtake me. Is this some type of freaking drama show? Seriously…now or never?

Katniss takes no time snarling back a reply, "Never." I give him a look of triumph that clearly says I've taught her well. Suck it.

"Why do you even want to be on his side? I thought that you were in love with me, Katniss." He sounds pathetic, but the sad thing is that he actually seems to believe it himself.

"Sorry Peeta, but honestly…no." Katniss sounds disgusted, and I smirk. It would be so easy to end his insignificant little life right now, but I like to be entertained.

"Unfortunately she's already taken. Sorry." I smirk at him. He whips his head towards me and frowns, instinctively raising his knives. My knives until a few moments ago.

"By who, you damn jerk?"

I roll my eyes and smirk even more. This is too hilarious.

"Who do you think?" I say, grinning.

Then I grab Katniss and press my lips onto hers hard, making a show of holding it out for several long seconds.

When we separate, Katniss and Peeta both look they've just had heart attacks. Katniss quickly composes herself though, and raises her bow once again, just shooting me a glance full of confusion. But Peeta just stands there, mouth hanging open.

He points his knives at her, and then at me, still gaping. "You…him…that's why you wouldn't leave them?"

"Well we know what sides we're on now, don't we?" I interject lightly. Then I charge forwards at him, weapons in hand.

He runs forwards as well, more prepared than I had thought. I throw a knife at his chest, but it bounces off for some weird…reason. But there's no time for me to stop. I try again.

Now I thrust my sword at his shoulder, and feel a hard plate underneath his clothes. Strange. I try for his arms, and find that they're mostly unprotected. As my sword point pierces his forearm, he also stabs his knife at me.

I ignore the sudden pain in my shoulder and focus on trying to cause him enough pain to stop him or to cause him to bleed to death.

My whole life I've experienced pain. Lived through it. Strived because of it. Loved seeing it. I've been trained to resist pain. He hasn't.

But he has armor, and I don't.

I lunge forwards again, slicing at his ankles and arms as hard as I can and watching as his dark shirt becomes even darker with sudden blood.

Lover Boy seems to know that I'm targeting his weak spots, and starts shifting his body so that my blows deflect off of the damn armor.

"And for a second I thought that you were actually going to fight like a real man." I snarl as one of his knives slices open my old wound.

That familiar red haze covers everything again, but I somehow disregard it, and it slowly fades away. I can't be reckless right now. Each stroke of my sword and each stab needs to be precise now. I can't afford to miss. Not when he's simultaneously slicing at my chest and arms.

I feel the blood dripping from my shoulder and use the flat of my blade to deflect several of his wild slices.

He uses his other hand to try to stab my arm, and I quickly raise a knife to block that side as well.

And we are frozen for a moment, him with his armor and inexperienced stabs; me with no armor and my well-practiced blows. It should be obvious to which side has the advantage. If only I had eaten something earlier. I can feel the emptiness in my stomach and the energy quickly seeping out of my limbs.

I quickly use a foot and sweep it under the smaller boy, knocking his legs out from under him. Then I launch my body onto his, sitting on top of him. I pin down one of his wrists with a knife, I can hear the blade going through the flesh and sinew, and hold the other wrist down with a hand.

Lover Boy cries out in pain, and I can see the blood spilling out from his limbs. His arms are in shreds, and I almost feel sympathy for him. I mean, I wouldn't want to be beaten like that either.

"Any last words?" I growl, lifting my sword in a position to cut his jugular vein.

He stares at me with so much hatred in those beady blue eyes of his. "Yes." I smirk, waiting for whatever he had to say.

"HELP! FOR RUE!" I snicker at his screams. What the hell?

Then I feel something pierce my back, and turn towards the direction it came from.

And there stood the giant from 11, his arm still in throwing position. I stare at the knife in my back and almost laugh. I can't be killed that easily.

Katniss:

I watch as the dark red liquid starts pouring, and I mean pouring out of Cato's back, and am horrified for a split second. Then I turn to Thresh, who is retrieving another knife from his backpack, almost at a leisurely pace.

He's going to kill Cato if he throws a few more of those. The blade is lodged pretty deep in Cato's back.

Peeta is on the ground, watching with eyes full of fear at the sword that hovers inches above his neck. Cato seems to be having trouble controlling the arm with the sword in it, his shoulder is bleeding freely.

I point my bow at Thresh and pull back. He is posing to throw another knife, eyes glinting in the moonlight. Cato stabs downwards, I release my arrow, and Thresh throws his weapon at the same time. I watch as the arrow whizzes through the air, as if cutting through water. The male tribute from District 11 looks towards me with surprise, but I can see that he is not fatally wounded by the arrow in his shoulder.

Time seems to speed up again, and I watch in horror at the scene in front of me. The cannon booms loudly in the distance. Thresh dashes away, a dark blur in the trees. But I am scrambling towards the two figures in the middle of the clearing, frantically hoping that it isn't too late.

Because they both crumpled to the ground at the same time.

Edited A/N: Please leave a review! I'd love to hear what you think so far. Maybe I'll update sometime this weekend if you guys really want me to. :)

And relax...do you honestly think that I would kill my lovely darling, Cato? Pshhh...-snorts-

Lots of love, and please review, -Risa xox