Author's Note: Sorry for the wait everyone. Thanks for all the reviews :) I've stopped replying to each individually, I only reply to the longer ones, but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate and read them all. I hope you enjoy this chapter, the Quarter Quell is coming up soon and it's going to be really exciting! I've already started planning it. Enjoy chapter thirteen!

Crowd of Two

Chapter Thirteen

Grey's POV

"No! Grey is not going in! I won't let that happen!" Cato's eyes are wild as he screams at us, somehow only making the silence in the room louder. He throws himself into a standing position and looks at each person in the room individually, making them look away uncomfortably. His body language screams that he has conflicted emotions as he tries to make the decision whether to seek comfort or destruction and no one seems to know what to do. I tentatively reach out to touch him but Brutus gets there first and grabs him tightly by the arm.

"Cato, Cato! Calm down, we need to sit and talk this through as a group. Your father would want you to lose control, but you're better than that. Come on boy, get through." By the end of Brutus' pep talk, Cato is standing curled over with fists pressed into his eyes. He looks small and vulnerable but after a few seconds he stands up and holds himself rigidly beside his mentor. He avoids eye contact with me completely.

"We're all going to help her get out alive." Brutus looks up at me and Cato's eyes follow reluctantly. All around us everyone is nodding in agreement and it makes me embarrassed that all these people are going to help me. Really, it's Cato who deserves to win now.

I see the blonde victor take a deep breath and his shoulders relax slightly on the exhale, but without saying anything he quickly walks out of the room. A few seconds later I hear the sound of the front door slamming shut. I look to Brutus who tilts his head in the direction of the door, giving me permission to go after his tribute.

I'm surprised to find that it's dark outside when I hurry out the door looking for Cato. Lights illuminate the small street of empty victor houses but beyond those the rest of District Twelve is dark. Suddenly, the house a few doors down suddenly lights up from the inside, which is odd as no one should be living there. When I slip through the doorway I see that the lock has been broken from some sort of impact and when I step onto the plush carpet the lights instantly switch off. I think to myself that Cato doesn't want anyone to disturb him, but I continue through the house anyway, poking my head into each room.

He's not in any of the rooms on the ground floor and I pad up the stairs listening for any indication that Cato is in the house. He's not one to take anger quietly and soon enough I hear the sound of something smashing from above me which is followed by a cry of fury. I don't even think about how dangerous Cato could be right now, all I can think about is how afraid he must be so I run up the last steps and fling the door at the end of the passage open. I catch sight of him standing brokenly with an equally broken vase in his hand and I instantly run to him, wrapping my arms tightly around his body.

"I-I…" Cato begins, "This wasn't supposed to happen. I can't lose you."

"I can't lose you either!" I cry back in reply. "If you were gone I would have nothing of you! I need you Cato, please." I tilt my head up and he captures my lips with his. I slip one hand around his back and pull him closer while my other hand snakes up to the nape of his neck and my fingers reach up to mess up the back of his hair. I can feel the surprise in the way he's holding me but after a couple of seconds he adjusts his stance and lifts me off the ground so that I can wrap my legs around his waist.

We pull apart abruptly and he stares at me with dilated eyes.

"This isn't a good idea. You're what, 17? Gosh, I don't even know how old you are. We can't do this!"

"Cato, you've been gently pushing for ages. I appreciate your concern now, but listen to me. We are going into the arena and we aren't coming out together this time. This is the end of our relationship as we know it. Do you really think the District Two tributes are going to let you near me?" I stare strongly at Cato while I continue to sit against him with my legs round his waist. He looks sideways for a second, as if someone is going to appear and tell him whether or not he should follow his thoughts.

Supposedly his conscience gives him the OK because after a couple of seconds his mouth finds mine again and he carries me to the bedroom. We go along from there on instinct, because there are no longer words to describe our feelings. A death sentence does that to you. As I lie under Cato and he tears his shirt off, I leave him with one whispered comment before we communicate on actions alone.

"Be gentle."

I wake up with a muscled arm draped across my stomach and gentle breathing coming from behind me. For some reason the calm sound only increases the dread that has turned up in my thoughts this morning. It has nothing to do with what took place last night between Cato and I, truthfully that's the only thing I don't regret. Instead it's the nagging feeling of what is going to happen in the quarter quell and the idea that Cato and I should get used to the idea of splitting up right now that plagues me.

I slowly extricate myself from Cato's arms and quietly dress before he can wake up. I watch from the door for a moment as he unconsciously searches for me, but when his search is in vain he resorts to pulling the blankets over himself alone with a slight frown on his face. He looks so perfect lying there with his mouth a little pouted that it takes every inch of my being to walk out the door and over to the other inhabited house next door.

Haymitch and Finnick are sitting at the table drinking together when I enter. I always knew Finnick was plagued at night by nightmares but seeing him go to alcohol feels like a whole new low to me. I'm almost tempted to ask for a bottle myself but instead I trudge past.

"I'm going to pack my bag," I say quietly to Finnick as I pass him, "And then I would like to go home."

"Sure sweetheart." Finnick gives me a sad look as I disappear from sight.

I had thought I would be able to get on the train without Cato waking up so at least he could have an undisturbed sleep before his world starts to come crashing down. I wasn't sure what he had assumed, but I had certainly expected to go home to District Two with him after the victory tour. Now even the thought of staying with Cato makes me nervous. President Snow might leave us alone if we split. Neither of us can do much rebelling without the other.

I wasn't quite sure what I thought I was going to do when I got to the train, bribe someone into letting Cato tour the districts on his own? But maybe I would at least be granted a day or so back at home for me to recover and prepare. How would I face the districts of people now that we all knew we were almost certainly going back into the arena?

My plan crashes and burns as soon as I get to the train station. Firstly, there are a multitude of peacekeepers that suddenly appear to tell me that I cannot leave the district without the full party and that there will certainly be no changes to the victory tour schedule. But then I am forced to sit on a bench surrounded by white armoured men as Cato is woken up, informed, and ordered here immediately with the rest of our group. I dread seeing his disappointed face and although when he does come trudging along the platform I can see he tries to not look it, the pain in his expression is evident.

As soon as we make eye contact, he runs across the platform and takes me in his arms.

"You were gone. I thought it was something I had done that made you want to run away from me. Was it last night? Have I ruined everything?" Cato asks me a barrage of questions and nearby Finnick raises one eyebrow at the references to the night before, quite likely suspecting what took place. I shake my head violently and wrap my arms tightly around Cato's tense frame.

"No, it wasn't you. I'm so sorry; I just want to go home. Anywhere. Somewhere where there are no games and no one is going to talk about us and give us sad looks because they know that both of us are getting closer and closer to our death sentences!" I end up shouting by the time I finish but Cato says nothing and instead pushes his lips against mine, quieting me instantly.

After that we decide not to talk about the upcoming quell anymore and the victory tour quickly passes. It's painful enough that at every district we visited after District Twelve, someone asked us about "what it is like" and how we feel knowing that "the odds just aren't in our favour." They didn't know anything. They have never lost close friends or worse, been forced to kill close friends. So whenever the fateful subject came up in conversation at each district all of us clam up and look away, hoping that by saying nothing we are improving our chances of recovering from all of this.

Cato and I travel from districts eleven to one, giving the same pre written speeches in front of the seemingly same citizens. District Eleven was one of the worst days of my life. I was speaking almost directly to what had to be Rue's family and the whole time I could not get the image of her broken body out of my head. I don't speak to Cato for the entire day after that and he eventually realises that it was his sword that pierced her body. He cradles me in his arms for the whole night that night.

We pass through the district of the boy I killed - was he district 8 or 9? - without a fuss. I'm incredibly thankful for this because I had expected harsh glares from the public, but the day passes uneventfully. The downside of this is that we feel much worse when we see the families of tributes that we actually befriended during the arena. For me that tribute is Marvel and when I see his family in the audience, well actually his mother and someone I can only assume is his younger brother, I break down in tears. Cato stands stonily beside me the whole time with only an arm wrapped around my waist to show he's upset by my tears, but he was not particularly close with any of the deceased tributes we are remembering. It was probably in his career handbook back in District Two: Don't make friends in the arena.

And then at last we spend a day in the Capitol knowing that after that we can return home. By then, all the thoughts of going back to Two with Cato have disappeared. We've received enough comments about how hard it is going to be to continue a relationship with the looming games that we are both exhausted with the prospect. So when we split up as Cato disembarks with Brutus in District Two there are no tears. Frankly, I'm all cried out.

"Keep in touch." Cato whispers to me as he pulls me into his arms before he leaves. I nod silently and we kiss for a moment before Cato sadly follows Brutus out onto the cold platform of his district. He looks so small and alone but he tries to give me a half-hearted smile when the doors to the train close and put up a barrier between us. I call out "Cato!" but he can't hear me through the glass and he can only wave dejectedly like a character in a silent film as the engines start up. This time, no one runs along the platform like our friends did in District Four, and Cato's figure is out of sight too soon.