Oh my goodness, I am so sorry this took me so long. I feel awful. If it's any excuse, I finals this week. I spent a good 3 days on the original version of this chapter before scratching it because I didn't like what I wrote. Then tonight I just sat down and wrote it all in about an hour. I feel like my important chapters always end up short, but I feel like I said what needed to be said. In response to some reviews, I will be doing an epilogue next and then maybe one more chapter after that. Thanks for your patience and thanks for reading.

Cato and I are both awake in the early hours of the morning. I don't know if either of us even fell asleep. I'm still a bit shocked about everything that happened and find myself looking at Cato's face often to make sure he's really there. Once I even put my ear to his chest to make sure he is alive. I realize I'm being paranoid, but I can't help it. I look up at Cato's face again, disbelieving the fact that the Capitol let us both win, and see him staring at me. I lift my hand up and run my fingers over his face.

"You're not dead." I say quietly.

"No." He replies.

"Why?" I say, more to myself than to Cato.

"I guess someone in charge must have taken pity." He replies, "Or they thought we were both going to die. They need a victor." The room is silent for a while before I decide to speak again.

"I didn't think to ask if you were alive. I just assumed the worst. But you knew. You asked. How?" I'm not sure that I'm making much sense, but Cato, as always, knows exactly what I am trying to get across.

"The second I woke up I was so mad. I thought that there was a mistake and that you had died. I had to be sure you were alive. I didn't know what to do so I just got out of bed and yelled until someone assured me that you were fine." I still wonder how Cato was able to ask about me. I was too scared. If I asked I would have first allowed myself to hope. Then if I had been told that he didn't make it, I would have been crushed.

"I couldn't do it." I whisper to Cato, "I was too empty."

"And no one told you?" Cato asks, his voice filled with disgust for the Capitol and how they made me suffer. I shake my head on the pillow. Cato shifts in bed to look up at the ceiling with contempt.

"I can't believe they would do that to you."

"Better tv show." I say. "That's all this ever was; a tv show where pain is what the viewers want to see." Cato tries to bring the conversation to a happier subject as he says,

"We both made it out. We're together now."

"The baby's dead." The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them.

"What?" I watch Cato's expression carefully as I say

"You heard me." Cato looks confused and uneasy at my words, which was not what I had expected. I had half thought that he would try to take out all the game makers single-handed or leave me. I didn't once think that his face would drop and he would just lay there.

"Clove," He says my name tenderly and takes me into his arms. I don't return the embrace, but lay there, rejecting his comfort.

"It's my fault. I wasn't fast enough to save you. I didn't stab myself well enough."

"No." I tell him. "It was too late." Then in a moment of honesty that I'm sure makes me look like a monster, I say, "I'd rather you be alive anyway." Cato doesn't react to my comment, but instead says,

"Everything's going to be ok."

"Promise?" I ask, sounding like a small child.

"Promise." He says, with enough conviction that would make me believe anything.

Our prep teams come to get us ready all too soon, but at least have enough sense to not try to separate us. The makeup is brought to us and we get in our interview clothes right in Cato's room. Our interview with Caesar Flickerman went fairly smoothly, but was unlike any I have previously seen. Cato and I were certainly not the usual careers who talk vividly about their best kills. We were probably the most subdued careers Caesar has ever interviewed. I managed to smile and get in a few witty remarks, but I was not the fierce Clove from my pre-game interview.

The only memorable moment from the live interview was when Caesar asked about the ring that sponsors had sent Cato. After answering the question, Cato had told Caesar he wanted to do something, then pulled the ring out of his pocket. In all the confusion of the past few days I hadn't noticed that my ring had been missing. Or maybe I did and thought it confirmed Cato's death so I blocked it out of my mind. I don't really remember. Cato turned to me and said that he never got the chance to propose properly, then proceeded to get down on one knee and ask me to marry him. I had nodded furiously and said yes in a cracking voice before kissing him. The few people in the room had sighed at this and a couple even took out tissues. The interview was over. I couldn't believe that Cato still wanted to marry me. I thought it was called off. There wasn't any reason to get married anymore. There was no kid. I was damaged goods. I looked up at him with wondering eyes and he said softly, "Isn't love a good enough reason?" Love. The word that seemed foreign to me a mere month ago in District 2. I never considered it much, but I guess it was a pretty good reason.

We were sent back to our rooms to get our belongings, which for me was just my reaping clothes and token. I slipped the necklace on over my head and knew I would never take it off again. Cato and I had then been put in a car and taken to the train station to go back to District 2. To go home. Home to Victor's Village. To my parents. They aren't really much, but I still want to see them.

On the train Cato and I try to return to our normal selves, but it doesn't really work. He asks me if I want to move in with him at his house in Victor's Village and I can't help but smile as it reminds me of how he had asked me the very same thing before the reaping. Maybe, just maybe, we would be alright.

The train arrives in District 2 earlier than I expected. I can hear the whole population cheering before the doors to the train even open. Cato takes my hand as the doors slide open and we are met with an unbelievable wave of noise. I see Cato's parents in the crowd first, beaming up at us proudly. Then I see Lawrence who gives me a thumbs up. I lay my eyes on my parents at last, who are crying. I have never seen them cry and I want to run over there right away, but am forced to remain on the platform for pictures.

Cato lifts me into the air, triumphantly and in that moment, something clicks inside of me. I feel as though a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I can breathe again. I'm no longer in the games. I don't have to be on edge all the time. And Cato is right here with me. I love him. If nothing else, I am sure of that one thing. I always had, really. It just took the thought of losing him for me to realize it. As Cato held me up in the air, I thought of it all. A knife. A sword. A rock. A necklace. A ring. A letter. A promise. That's all there really was to it, but that was enough. So in that instant, I let myself laugh. We were free. And I knew to be true what I thought was once impossible: everything would be ok.

So there it is. Completed besides an epilogue. Thanks to everyone who has stuck with this story. I love all of my readers so much and you keep me motivated to write. I am so blessed to get so many nice reviews and would love to know what you think about the first conclusion to this story. I have had such a great time writing this and am sad that there is only one or two more updates left for me to do. Thank you all.