Author's Note: Hi dear readers! Thank you for all the lovely reviews, I'm really glad that people are still enjoying this story. The pace is definitely beginning to pick up now, but we still have a way to go, so don't worry about me finishing any time soon! I probably won't be able to update until next weekend, because this week is my school's show week and I'm a technician so it means long school days followed by long nights, so please bare with me :)
Tell me what you think about this chapter, there's quite a few new ideas introduced, and of course the long awaited President Snow! Enjoy!
Crowd of Two
Chapter Nine
Grey's POV
The only reason I stop screaming is because my voice cracks and we're plunged into silence. I continue to stand there dumbly in front of the president of Panem, completely ignoring the 'sit down' gesture that he is giving us. Cato is the first to move out, and I can see the stiffness in his back as he seats himself on the edge of the couch opposite President Snow, his nails digging into the fabric under his palms. You've done nothing wrong, the voice in my head tells me, and it's enough to persuade my legs to take the rest of my body to the empty spot next to Cato as the white-haired man in front of us begins to speak.
"It seems you left the Capitol before I could congratulate you." His voice is civil but the look in his eyes tells me that he despises us. Without even trying, we have managed to personally offend quite easily the most important person in the country.
"I'm sorry we offended you," Cato speaks, his teeth gritted in order to hold his temper, "But it was really no fault of our own. It was the peacekeepers that pi-"
"No!" President Snow's hand comes slamming down on the tiny coffee table between us and we both jump. It's almost as if we are his puppets, reacting how he wants us to react.
"If I had control over those Peacekeepers, the two of you would be locked away in the Capitol, never to see the light of day again."
The room falls silent once again and I look down at the floor when Snow makes eye contact with me, the side of his mouth turning up in the beginning of a sadistic grin. For once even Cato is subdued, although from the corner of my eye I can see him wringing his hands together while he holds eye contact with the man sitting on my furniture.
"However," He drags out, continuing when we make no move to answer him, "The Capitol loves you too much for that to go by unnoticed, so it seems we will be forced to see each other for a while yet."
"I will leave you with this. By pulling that act in the games, ruining our perfect finale, you've begun something. And as much as you run away in your happy little relationship, hopping from district to district with no care in the world, you're in my web. Like everyone else you have ever cared for. Enjoy your time on the victory tour, I'll be sure to see you soon. I just know you're going to love this year's quarter quell." And without waiting for us to dismiss him, he disappears out the still ajar door, leaving Cato and I feeling filthy from his presence.
Cato's arm snakes around my shoulders and he pulls me close in an embrace for a second, trying to put the confrontation out of his mind as we hear the sound of a car screeching away from my doorstep. He rises from the couch and goes to retrieve the basket of cookies that I had dropped and left discarded on the floor when we entered. He offers one of the less broken ones to me and I take it but don't make a move to eat. He frowns for a moment before looking around the room and smiling.
"This is nice." He says to me, trying to keep a smile on his face but sounding quite damp instead.
"Yeah, it's okay." I reply, attempting and failing to bring my mouth into a smile. I'm almost certain President Snow planned his visit perfectly so it would ruin my time back home, and it seems like his plan has worked. Cato is standing uncomfortably on the tiled floor of the kitchen, and beside him the front door to my house is gently swinging open and shut. Needing to do something helpful, I walk over to it and shut it closed, and I pick up the overnight pack Cato had been holding when we entered to drag it further inside.
The house looks exactly how I left it, comfortable and lived in but with an air of cleanliness that came from my mother having too much time on her hands. It's nearly the opposite of Cato's mansion; where he had expensive tapestries and paintings, here the walls are mostly empty except for a few pieces of Capitol art that my father sent during his first year away. Eventually though, shipping items got "too expensive and complicated" and both deliveries and letters died out. The only contact we had with him nowadays was a monthly deposit into our money account.
"Grey." I look up to see Cato lumbering over with a scrap of paper in his hand. For the first time since leaving the Capitol, I notice that the bandage he had on his hand to cover the wound Spens gave him had been removed, leaving behind immaculate skin. I can't help but be a little uncomfortable by it; by having no scars it's like the games never existed. Cato sees my train of thought and looks down at it himself almost longingly.
"Weird isn't it. It's like, if we forget about him, he never even existed."
"But he did." I state coldly, trying to push the image of my old district partner's hand lying on the ground after it had been grotesquely removed from my mind. At some point Cato reaches me and I'm shaken from my thoughts when he pushes the piece of paper into my hand.
"Looks like a note from your mother." He says, offering a small smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. He probably thinks it's sad that she couldn't be here to welcome us. Little does he know, even if she is at home, her mind isn't.
"Dear Grey," I read aloud, "Things have gotten pretty bad, haven't they? You know what to do honey. See you soon." By the time I finish reading, Cato is giving me a confused expression. He obviously has no idea what the note is saying and I wish I didn't, because it really isn't helping my case.
"…You know what to do?" Cato asks, partly to himself.
"Unfortunately, yes." I respond. "It was a running joke in my family before my father… left. Whenever something bad happened, even if it was stupid and insignificant, my father would always pick me up and say, 'Oh well, we're going to District 13!'" Cato's eyes get wide very fast.
"District 13? But the Capitol said it was destroyed a long time ago! They show us footage every year!" I nod, going along with his rant.
"I never said it made sense, it was just a joke. My mother must have started to really believe that it still exists while I was in the games. Here's us trying to not be rebellious, and my mother has gone traipsing to find District 13? We're dead for sure!" I burst into tears, startling Cato who wraps one of his big arms around my shoulders.
"Nah we're not, it's all okay. It's fine." He murmurs to me when I start sobbing about how I should have never come back, which ends up sounding like a random mix of syllables.
After a while of stroking my hair and whispering comforting words into my ear, eventually I calm down enough to realise that it's getting late and I promised to meet Titus at the beach. Cato senses the change in my posture and he lets go of me.
"I promised Titus that I would go and meet him." I say tentatively, not wanting to get Cato angry again. But instead he only asks for directions to the bedroom and tells me that he'll fix a meal up and leave it on the counter for me.
Titus is waiting for me when I arrive, sitting on the sand with the reflection of the moon and the ocean shining back onto his face in a lazily dancing pattern. His face breaks into a smile when I seat myself next to him, leaning back on the sand.
"You have no idea how much I missed this place," I whisper to him, "I couldn't imagine dying in the arena and not getting to see it one more time." The dark haired young man turns his head towards me and smiles.
"Well now that you're back, you can see it every day. You could have your victor house right here on the beach!" He says, the excitement building in his voice. But I have the opposite effect, a feeling as if there is a rock sitting in my stomach weighing me down, and I realise something that I didn't know until right now.
"But I can't come back, Titus." His mouth drops open in shock and anger that's not directed at me.
"The Capitol is forcing you to live there?"
"No, that's not it."
"It's Cato; tell me it's not Cato! When I get my hands on him…"
"Titus, it isn't Cato. It's me. President Snow came to my house and told us that he wanted us dead. He's going to make our lives living hell; I don't want to drag anybody unnecessarily into this."
"You know I'd do anything for you, I'd fight for you and even Cato if I had to." Titus is on his feet now, looking like he's trying to control something out of his power.
"I know Titus, you're my best friend. But I can't put anyone here in danger, because they don't deserve it. When that cannon went off in the bloodbath, it was the end of my old life. I'm going to go wherever Cato goes. It could be the Capitol, it could be District 2. What I'm trying to say, is that when all this is over, I don't think I'm coming back here."
Titus gapes for a couple of seconds, and his fists clench.
"I guess I can't persuade you against it, you always were stubborn. But if you are ever in danger, I'll be there okay?" I smile.
"Deal."
We sit for an hour or so, catching up like old friends. I tell him a bit about what it felt like fighting in the arena, but it hurts to think about so mostly I talk about the pieces of the Capitol that he wouldn't know about. What Caesar Flickerman is really like when the cameras are off, and whether or not Titus would have liked Marvel (yes). When we start to get cold from the wind blowing off the ocean and stand up to say goodbye, Titus says something unexpected.
"You know, when I first saw you with Cato in the arena, I had no idea how you could love that monster. He'd break someone's neck and you would turn around and hug him for it, I didn't understand. But now I realise that deep inside that shell he's tried so hard to put up, there's just a broken boy, isn't there?"
The house is dark when I arrive back from the beach, and I unlock the door and try to make as little noise as possible. True to his word, Cato's left something on the bench for me, but it's obvious he isn't used to cooking because I feel the need to inspect it before putting it anywhere near my mouth. After eying the massive amount of dirty dishes that Cato has somehow managed to leave unwashed by the sink and eating the unexpectedly tasty meal that he has left for me, I walk quietly to the bedroom, wondering whether he is asleep or not.
When I open the door to my bedroom, Cato is sitting in my bed, a book in his hand and a very concentrated expression on his face. He doesn't notice my presence and it gives me time to remember; Cato told me before the games that he couldn't read or write particularly well since a lot of his childhood was spent training.
It's only when I begin to strip down to what I'm going to wear to bed that Cato's eyes flick up to me. He does a double take, and I watch his face go from concentrated to his usual flirtatious smirk.
"I was just reading about your district." He says, not able to hide the hint of pride in his voice.
"Were you? Cool. Do you find it interesting?" I reply, trying to keep any sneaky condescending emotions out of my voice.
"It's good. District 2 is a lot more private about what they do and what the origins of the town are, it's refreshing to see a place with no conspiracies." I nod, urging him to continue as I go into the en-suite bathroom to get ready. There's a pause when I'm out of his sight, but then a small comment carries through to where I'm standing in front of the mirror.
"It's hard for me to read stuff like this though... Because well, you know."
I come back into the room a few minutes later, and see that Cato has returned to the book again. I'm not sure, but I think that maybe the creases in his forehead have lessened slightly, as if it's gotten slightly easier since I walked in.
"Yeah, I know." I confirm. "It gets easier, trust me." I join Cato in bed and press against him. He's shirtless and the bare skin is hot and pleasant. He stretches over and puts the book down on the floor, then tucks one arm under me, resting his hand on my waist.
"I never had much opportunity to read books back while I was training, but it's nice. Do you think I could borrow this book and take it with me on the victory tour?" I nod, sinking deeper into the covers as the lights switch off.
"Sure. You can even have it if you want, no point leaving it here getting dusty." Cato whispers a more heartfelt thank you into my ear than I think is necessary, but I realise that by allowing him this, I'm allowing him to read, something that his father and his district prevented him from doing.
I tuck my head into the crook of his neck, and we both sleep peacefully throughout the whole night. No nightmares.