Author's Note: I posted this chapter earlier than I planned to so hopefully that makes up for the fact that it is shorter than normal chapters. I am having a rather busy time at the moment, so I'm not sure when the next one will be up but I'll try for the end of the week. Please review this chapter, any ideas/criticism/thoughts would be greatly appreciated! I think this chapter has been one that some people have been looking forward to (or dreading!). Enjoy!
Crowd of Two
Chapter Twelve
Grey's POV
I walk very slowly towards Cato's motionless body and watch as Finnick peels away the shirt that has been glued on with the blood. Brutus stands nearby with a distasteful expression but I can see the look of sadness in his eyes that he tries to hide. When I reach Finnick he catches sight of me and steps back, gesturing that I should be the one near Cato's face. I don't know where he got that idea; I don't think I can stand seeing pain in the eyes of someone I care about.
That's why I squeeze my eyes shut when Mrs Everdeen begins cleaning Cato's ravaged back. He's been put on his side to protect his injuries so when I kneel down we are face to face. I grip his hands tightly, partly because I want to comfort him when the pain eventually wakes him up but also because I'm afraid he's going to hurt himself.
Brutus has appeared beside me to hold down Cato's lower body and a few seconds after we begin holding him down I feel him push slightly against my grip. Almost as if he realises that he's being restrained in his sleep, he pushes a little harder and it's getting to the point where I will have to let go soon. Then suddenly the force against me abruptly stops and I sigh with relief, still with my eyes closed.
"Grey?" A quiet voice murmurs and I open my eyes to a very pale looking Cato staring back at me. I instantly wrap my arms around his neck and press my lips to his forehead, trying to be gentle with his frail body. I hear him wince and there's an apologetic reply from behind him. We spend the next few minutes in an embrace where I delicately cradle his head and stroke his hair while he holds me. I'm surprised he isn't wincing or even screaming from the pain, but apart from having his jaw clenched he makes no sound and I shudder to think of how much pain his district must have put him through in order for him to be a career. He may not ever tell me.
After he's all set with a strange cream made from crushed plants and a large white bandage around his back, everyone leaves Cato and me alone. Katniss and Gale apologise softly when they are sure no one is watching but Primrose, who I learn is Katniss' younger sister, prances out of the house. Apparently this was the first time she helped with a serious injury. Even with the pain he is in, Cato manages to hold a serious face with just a hint of humour as he shakes her hand in congratulation.
"What do you think is going to happen now?" I whisper when the sounds of everyone talking at the door have stopped and we are completely alone. I pull myself up onto the table that Cato is lying on and he arranges himself around me without putting pressure on his back as he replies.
"I don't know. Is it a little too much to hope that this won't get back to President Snow?" He chuckles to himself but it fades when he sees the look on my face. "Sorry. It's going to be something bad. I… I was meant to look after you and look what happened."
Before I can reply, he flings his body around and scrapes his bandaged back on the table. I leap off the table and shriek his name, because we both know this is his injured version of punching a wall. Cato's eyes are strong when he tells me that he is fine, and as much as I coax him he stays as he is.
"It's not your fault…" I whisper softly as I softly stroke his face and trace his jaw. He closes his eyes and hums in disagreement, but doesn't say anything. When Cato's breathing deepens abruptly and he shifts to accommodate his back, I know he's temporarily at rest. He's safe for now which is all we wanted by trying to run to District Thirteen. I pull a chair up to the table and watch Cato's sleeping facial expression as my hand slips into his. It's going to be a long night.
"Grey! Wake up. Come on, we need you up." I sit up and realise that I've had my face - when did I fall asleep - pressed against the table where Cato was lying. The absence of Cato makes me wake up instantly and I fling my head around to see Finnick beside me. He takes in my stressful expression and hesitantly pats my shoulder.
"Cato's already with Brutus and the others. There's been a report from the Capitol of a mandatory announcement in a few minutes." He begins to walk out of the room and when he gestures for me to follow I rise from the chair and hurry to follow my mentor.
Cato, Brutus and both of our escorts and prep teams are all squished into Haymitch's tiny living area where a screen is up and showing the Capitol emblem. I can't see Haymitch himself at first, but he soon comes sashaying in with a bottle of alcohol and seats himself in the middle of the bustle. Cato shifts over to make room for me and I see that he has changed into a button-up shirt and it looks like he's washed his hair. I don't ask how he got clean without irritating his back because I have a feeling it involved a sponge and possibly Brutus.
But when I sit down next to him, he grins widely and leans close to speak in my ear.
"Brutus made some calls and they got some flash medicine sent over from one of the other Districts. It's insane, the wounds closed up in seconds! It feels a bit stiff still, but isn't that great?" I smile back at him in reply as he lifts up the back of his shirt so that I can peer at his mostly healed back. He's right; they have all scabbed over and look so much better than before. I trace one gently with the tip of my finger, and although I slip a smile on my face when Cato turns around again, all I can think of is that even if all his wounds close up we are still wanted by President Snow.
"Shh! It's starting everyone!" Domitia's voice breaks up my thoughts and I look at the screen to see that indeed the Capitol emblem has disappeared and been replaced with a black screen. In another moment it cuts to President Snow sitting stonily in front of the camera. I hear a sharp intake of breath and when Cato looks to me I realise that it was me who made the sound. He slips his hand into mine and we both look around to those who know about President Snow's visit and hatred of us. Glances and pursed lips are sent to Finnick, Brutus and Haymitch while the Capitol citizens in the room watch the President with oblivious wide eyes.
"Greetings citizens of Panem. I hope you enjoyed the 74th annual Hunger Games. However it has come to my attention that many of you are upset that our precious victors, Grey and Cato did not attend an interview or have much interaction with you, the people." Snow's cold voice seeps into the room and Cato and I make nervous eye contact. Are we being taken back to be interviewed? "Which is why I am breaking tradition and announcing the Quarter Quell early - it is something to look forward to, perhaps?"
Suddenly there is a bustle of noise: excitement from the prep teams and escorts at the thought of something new to follow, and a deep murmur of dread coming from the victors. I stay with my eyes glued to the screen as an envelope with an obvious 75 pasted on the front is handed to the President. It's meant to have been locked in a box since the beginning of the games themselves but it's not fooling anyone. This quell could have been planned yesterday for all we know. President Snow slowly breaks the seal on the envelope and he brings out the slip of paper. A few seconds pass as he reads over it and an unattractive smile slowly graces his face.
"'To show that the Hunger Games is a game of luck and fate, on the 3rd Quarter Quell the Capitol will reap six districts from the usual twelve who will each send in four tributes. Two of these will be victors and two shall be non-victors. Things are not as they seem in the 75th Hunger Games, and it will become more necessary than ever for the odds be in your favour."
There is utter silence in Haymitch's home. The previous excitement has disappeared at the risk of any of the victors in the room being sent back into the arena. Cato squeezes my hand and looks at me forcefully.
"It's not going to be us. Only six districts have to send in tributes and even if our districts are picked, we are career districts. There are lots of victors!" I don't reply to Cato and instead stare straight ahead. It feels like déjà vu because I know what is about to happen.
President Snow laughs gleefully and gestures outside of the screen. A small bowl much like the one used in the district reaping is placed in front of him.
"I think it would be exciting to draw the six districts now, wouldn't it?" He looks into the camera and I can feel his eyes boring into me in particular. He draws six slips of paper out of the bowl one by one and reads them aloud.
"The districts sending in tributes are as follows: District Three… District Nine… District Twelve… District Two… District One… District Four. Congratulations to the aforementioned. District reapings will occur on schedule. The victory tour will continue." And the broadcast cuts out abruptly to a blank screen. Haymitch very slowly presses a button on the device beside him and the screen disappears.
"Well then, it looks like I'm going in again this year. There's only one victor from District Twelve." Someone from Cato's prep team screams but my gaze doesn't leave Haymitch as he stares back at me.
"You know, don't you?" He asks me, but it's a statement not a question. "It's you and Cato." And I do know. I knew it as soon as the Quell was announced. Cato and I are going back into the arena, and this time they are making sure that we don't get out.