A/N: Chapters 70, 71 and 72 are all completely Cato because Sam wrote her shit and it's hells long. Enjoy.

"What is this?" I ask myself, looking up at the sky. My face gets wet as large, white flakes fall. Snowflakes up to even a half an inch in diameter continue to fall as I make my way through the forest. I've been going uphill for days. I must be somewhere in the mountains now. There's no decent way to tell if I'm closer to Two or the Capitol, but either way, I'm somewhere close to civilization.

Suddenly, I feel overwhelmed with the chilly air. District Four doesn't get snow ever, as far as I'm concerned, so of course they wouldn't have heavy jackets. I took the warmest jacket I could find from there. It's not meant to shield me from below freezing temperatures, though. If I don't find anywhere soon, I'll surely freeze to death out here. And I'm running low on food, so turning back isn't an option.

Sure enough, the more I walk, the more I discover that the ground has gotten a light blanket of snow coating it. Then, I travel on, finding the snow to be thicker and thicker. This is making it harder to walk through, and my socks are starting to get soaked. At this point, it's more likely that I'm closer to the Capitol than I am to my home. That's almost a one hundred percent positive instant death, so I can only hope I'm not.

Then, I see the district fence. When I get right in front of it, I immediately feel overwhelmed with joy. This is my home. Not District Thirteen, not Victors' Village. My actual old house is just a little bit away from here. I should probably go there first, regardless of the time of day. I'm just not ready to fight him. Not at least until tonight. I need some time to eat, to shower, to rest, to prepare...

I begin to do as I did only about a week ago to the fence in District Four. In fact, I can't hear the hum of the electricity, which is odd. It's never off. It could just be my hearing going shot, though. Or the wind is too loud. Either way, I cut at the fence with my sword, which exposes my hands to the cold air even more. But I stay tough through it, cutting a large hole through the fence at the bottom so that I can crawl underneath. If District Thirteen did anything wonderful for me, it's that President Coin gave us all special weapons. I've never seen a blade this sharp. Not even in the Capitol. This one is sharp enough to cut through the fence. So for that, I'm thankful.

Once that's done, I roll my pack through the gaping hole, and I carefully follow it. Then, I stand up straight, looking out at the city. I'm home.

"So, you're home."

I know that voice all too well. And sure enough, when I turn to my left, I see her walking towards me. Her, with her dumb purple knitted hat and matching scarf and gloves, and an actual warm coat. At this point, it's not even me being envious of how warm she looks. It's me feeling things I haven't felt since I last saw her: some combination of hateful, betrayed, and longing emotions that I can't possibly describe completely. This is bad. "What of it, Antonia?"

"Nothing," she shrugs, stopping next to me. "I just thought you were dead. Seems that you're not, though."

"You're quick to accept that."

"What? The Capitol says you're dead, yet, I see you here. I have to accept that."

"No, I mean..." I sigh. "I figured you wanted me dead."

"No, you? Cato," she laughs, rolling her eyes, "I think it's great that you're here."

This was unexpected. "So you forgive me for reaping day?"

"I said I probably would, didn't I?"

Time didn't pass by quickly at all. In fact, the one hour in that room felt like an eternity. After my parents left, I just wanted to be on the train on my way to the Capitol already. Nonetheless, I had to stay in that small, dark room for the entire hour, alone for all I knew. By reaping day, I had already managed to push most of my friends away. It's a shame, really. All of my childhood friends, just...gone.

Then, she walked in-long, wavy, chestnut brown hair done all special for the reaping, purple, knee-length dress skin-tight at the waist-of course, seeing her all fancy made me tap my feet uncomfortably in my chair as I looked at the floor. She'd caught me staring other times, but it usually ended with a dirty look or a light, playful slap to the face. "Come to wish me luck?" I asked.

Then, the slap came. But it wasn't like all the other ones prior to that day. That one actually stung.

I glanced up from the floor to see an angry fire burning up the green in her eyes. "Antonia! What was that for? I swear, I wasn't-"

"Wasn't staring again? Why? Because you were ashamed of yourself?!"

"If you were worried about me trying to win you over or anything, why are you even here?" It made no sense for her to come if she thought I'd try asking her out again.

"Ashamed because you volunteered, Cato!" she shouted, slapping my arm.

"Ow!" I rubbed the spot where I was pretty sure I'd get a bruise. "You've known for years now that I was going to volunteer! You can't stop me, Tonia. You're not my mother. And believe me, she's been trying to talk me out of it for the past few weeks."

"What is this for? To win me over," she mocked. "You think winning the Hunger Games will get me to finally go out with you?"

"No, it's for my own personal reasons-"

"Oh, is it revenge or something?!"

My jaw dropped a bit when she said that. "It's exactly that. You're the first person to understand that."

"Revenge for me not going on a stupid date with you! That's pitiful! Face it, Cato, not everyone's going to like you like that."

"Actually, no?" I turned to look out the window at the crowds gathered around the Justice Building.

"Why? It makes perfect sense, you ass. My little sister volunteered first. So you just had to do this, didn't you? Kill her to make me feel bad about rejecting you?"

"Listen, maybe Clove should've waited, I don't know, three or four more years to volunteer?" It was stupid of her to volunteer at such a young age.

"Fourteen year olds have won before," she scoffed. "Not even ten years ago, a fourteen year old volunteered and won. He-"

"I KNOW!" I stood up from my seat. How dare she bring that up! "I've seen those Games a million fucking times, Tonia. I know Finnick Odair was fourteen. I don't fucking care! This was my last reaping. Clove still had four more reapings left. If I didn't volunteer today, I wouldn't have another chance ever again. If anything, she should've waited. And you know what? I wasn't even paying attention to the girls. I didn't realize it was Clove until I went up to the stage. So shut it."

"And that makes it okay?" she cried, covering her face with her hands. "She's been talking about this for months. Every day you came over to my house to hang out, to try to take me out, anything-she'd run up to you and talk about the Games! I've told you hundreds of times that I wouldn't volunteer because my little sis wanted all the glory! And I was glad to let her have it because I love her! I don't love you. I hate you, Cato. I hate you."

"I don't love you either. I still like you, though. Even if you hate me, I still like you." But at this point, my terribly deep crush on her was wearing thin. "How many times do I have to apologize?"

"You could never apologize enough! You're going to end up being the reason that...that she dies!" She leaned her forehead against the wall.

"You don't know that..." One could never be too sure of those things, right?

"Yes I do! Because only one person could return home. And if it's you or her...she's deadly, Cato. But you're like two or three times her size. If anyone's coming back, it's you, and I hate you for that!" Then, she ripped the flower I gave her earlier that morning for good luck off of her dress, tore all the petals off, and stomped on them. "I hope the Gamemakers decide to pity you and put you out of your misery by killing you, because if you won, you'd be coming home to no friends and the girl you love will despise you for letting her sister die."

"Antonia, I don't love you." Who knew it would hurt this much having feelings for someone? "In fact, I don't even need to feel anymore. Forget crushes, forget love, forget friends. I don't need any of that. Just go." So I swore to myself that love was pointless. Things of that nature just hurt.

"Cato, you really don't get it, do you? You betrayed my trust. Either way, I lose my best friend or I lose my sister, and honestly...if you're so heartless as to volunteer after her, I'd rather lose my best friend. I can get another one. But I have one sister. And pieces of her body are going to be sent home from the Capitol in a few weeks because of you!"

"You think I don't know how that feels?!" I shoved her a little so that maybe, she'd just get completely fed up and leave. I didn't want to listen to any of this. "Seeing the death of her on your TV will make your insides convulse and it feels like you'll puke up all your guts onto the screen just so that you wouldn't have to look at her mangled body anymore! Tonia, just go..."

"I'll leave now," she said, walking over to the door. My hour was almost over by then, anyway. "But under one condition."

"What?" I whined.

"I will consider forgiving you after all this, if you make it out...if you protect her in there. For as long as you can, and then you part ways. And may the best tribute win. Deal?"

For a moment, I just stared at her. Then she gave me a smile. Looks like that will make me do anything. "I'll protect Clove."

"Now, don't you go lying to me." She narrowed her eyes. "No lies, Cato."

"She'll be in the alliance. I'll fight for her, I'll give her my food, I'll keep her company. But if she gets in the way of what I want done, then this deal is off."

Antonia sighed. "You're always making compromises, aren't you?"

"Duh. It's either that way, or my way. I don't settle for less." It was true. And even today, I won't settle for less. I'm still stubborn.

She closed her hand around the doorknob and looked up at the ceiling, probably considering my proposition. "If she's weighing you down, and it's for the best that you guys part ways...then part ways. But if you guys split, I'm still expecting you to not kill her...please, Cato, don't you dare kill her. If you're the reason she dies, I swear-"

"I won't kill her," I said. "You can stop treating me like crap now."

"I still hate you." She opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. "Maybe my opinion of you will change after the Games."

"Well, I sure hope so," I said sarcastically, turning to the window again.

Finally, the door shut, and five minutes later, I was taken out to the car with Clove. Soon enough, we were both headed to the Capitol, at least one of us headed towards certain death.

"I'm sorry," I blurt out.

She narrows her eyes at me. "You didn't kill her," she says, walking back in the direction she came from. "Come."

Hesitant at first, I follow her. "I watched her die. I let her die. Why don't you hate me?"

"We made a deal. She didn't listen to your orders, you guys weren't working out, and you guys split paths. It's all in the deal."

"I let Peeta kill your sister. It's always the boy from Twelve doing that, isn't it?" I sigh. "I guess there's something else we have in common, then."

"Hey, hey, I understand...I mean, it's the Hunger Games. Not everyone can live. That boy did, and so did you. That wasn't supposed to happen. But...I accepted that only you or Clove could come back. You liked him. It was either his death, or hers..." She looks at her feet, retracing her footprints in the snow. "You stayed out of it as much as you could. I just..."

"If it's any consolation, he thinks I'm dead, so it's payback for killing your little sis," I laugh. Then I realize what I just said. Peeta thinks I'm dead. Oh god.

Surprisingly, she laughs too. "Cato, you know just the right things to lift my mood."

As I'm about to reply, I feel her gloved hand take mine. "Uh...I mean, he thinks I'm dead and all, but...I still love him."

"Ah, still think you can get with me, do you?" she smirks. "This isn't romantic hand-holding. Can't two friends hold hands, warm up your cold ones?"

"I suppose so," I shrug. My hand is starting to get the feeling back, now. "I still like you, you know."

"What happened to being in love with Mellark?"

"No, I still love him. I didn't mean it like...no, I mean I like you as in as a friend. As in, I've kinda hated you since reaping day, but now, I think of you as a friend." I haven't had romantic feelings for this girl since before the Games even started. And those feelings are long gone. "And, tell me for real. Why are you holding my hand?"

"Because it'll make people pay less attention to you. Duh," she shrugs. "If someone sees you walking alone, they'll realize it looks like you and bring in the Peacekeepers. If someone sees you hanging around with me, they won't think twice because you, being dead, wouldn't just go around holding some girl's hand. They'll just think it's a couple taking a Valentine's Day walk."

Well, that does make sense. "It's February 14th?"

"Mhm."

"Wow." Now I really have to try giving Thirteen a call when I eventually go back to Victors' Village. I was going to do that anyway so that they could send a hovercraft in to pick me up, but now I need to apologize to Peeta about how I won't get to spend today with him as planned. "Can you take me to my old home?"

"The one in Victors' Village? Why?" she asks.

"No, my old home. The one near your house."

"But-oh, yeah, that one. But why there?"

"Because I just need to find a place to hide, where no one lives. I don't want to be in a place where my dad can just walk in through the door or something." My feet are so numb, not just from all the walking and running, but also from the snow. I just need them to get warm.

She looks confused for a moment, but shakes her head and continues, "Yeah, makes sense. I'll take you there."

"Thank you!" I sigh happily. At least I have one person who knows I'm alive and is actually on my side.

And soon enough, we come up near her house and my old one, and she leads me around the back. After all these months, I still remember where the extra key is hidden. "Listen, Tonia...I need to devour a bunch of food and shower and denumb my limbs, so..."

"...So you want me to go," she sighs.

"No, no-I mean, yeah-but I want you to come back. Bring over a little food for me while I shower? Because I doubt there's any around here...and I also need you to escort me to Victors' Village so I could get stuff from there, and then back here, and then eventually I'll need to go back there..." I pause to take a breath. "I'm sorry, I'm asking you for a lot of favors."

"It's not a problem, Cato," she laughs, rolling her eyes. "I don't have anything to do today, anyway. You were my best friend. I'd love to catch up with you, if I have to drag you all around the district. Now, go in, take your shower, and I'll bring you some hot food. Okay?"

It didn't take much of that to get me smiling. Finally, there's someone around here who I can trust on my journey. "Thank you so much," I say, unlocking the door. "Really."

"No problem at all." She turns away and starts to head around to the front of the house. "See you later!"

"Goodbye!" I push the door open, walk in, and welcome the warm air. Oh, I missed this place. Everything is just where we left it, too. Empty cardboard boxes are strewn all over the kitchen table from all the frozen meals I used to eat, family pictures are still held to the fridge by those ridiculous, cheap magnets, and the sink still has a leaky faucet.

Drip, drip, drip.

The first thing I do is wrap paper towels around it so that it doesn't drip anymore. I hate dripping water.

I walk into the living room, leaving the back door unlocked for when Antonia comes back with food. It's odd that this place is so messy, considering we moved out months ago. All of our things should've been moved out to Victors' Village by now, but all of my papers from school are still on the coffee table. Papers that, even in the summertime, still littered my bedroom and the living room. God, I'm such a mess.

The house is warmer than I expected it to be. It's welcoming, though, considering I was anticipating a house only slightly warmer than the air outside. The air in here isn't terrible, either. After all this time, the house is still livable. Not that once we moved out, it would become a hazard, but...it's as if we still live here. But that's alright with me, because I really did love this house. It had its faults, which clearly still exist, but this was home to me. Even though it brings back some memories that I try to suppress, I love it.

And then I see the spot on the carpet where my dog peed that one time when I was little. Good times.

I throw my bag onto the recliner chair and immediately head upstairs to my old room. It's not completely messy, since I took most of my important things with me to Victors' Village, but it still has the signature Cato mess to it. Lovely-and I mean that. It wouldn't feel like my room without the mess. A childish grin spreads across my face as I notice the one discolored wall on the far side of my room, just a couple shades lighter than the pale blue walls in the rest of the room. I'd insisted on having my room painted red, telling my mom that at least it wouldn't turn out worse than the horrible pink she painted in the room up on the third floor, so I painted that one wall to show her. And it was not a wall-friendly color. We could've find the right shade of blue to cover it up, so...it doesn't match. I've always been okay with that, though. That mess-up defines me. Whenever I screw things up, I fix it as much as I can...and it will never be completely okay, but close. Basically.

Then there's one picture frame on my nightstand, containing a picture of a once happy family. I tear the back off of the frame and take the photograph out. Within seconds, about a fourth of the picture is ripped off, and my dad is thrown into the garbage can. The other few people in this photo...they can stay. Even if it hurts. Because everyone in this picture is dead. My mom is probably dead. The world thinks I'm dead. Then the one who's absolutely, definitely, long dead...she's dead. And soon, my dad, the fourth in the picture, the one who is literally trash now, will be dead. Talk about exterminating a whole family. When this is all over, I'll be the last of them. Last man standing. The lone victor, contrary to my actual win in the Hunger Games.

I still have some of my old clothes here, since I'd gotten all new clothes from the Capitol after I moved to Victors' Village, so I pull open my drawer and take out a long-sleeve, forest green shirt, a grey sweatshirt, underwear, and a pair of jeans. All of my snow clothes, like my coat, hat, scarf, gloves, and boots are in my other house. Which I have to walk to through a snowstorm to get to. Of all the times it could've snowed this much...really? I know this is a mountainous area, but it hasn't snowed this much in a long time. How convenient.

I take all of my clothes into the bathroom with me, lay them on the lid to the toilet seat, and start up my shower. I'm horribly dirty and cold, so I need this. Not that the water will be boiling hot, because I'm not expecting there to be hot water, but my god, it has to at least warm me up a little. But when I get into the bathtub, the water pouring on me isn't even near freezing. It's actually a decent temperature. I mean, we still own this house, but why would we even keep the hot water heater on? In case the pipes at Victors' Village broke and we needed a warm shower or a toilet that flushed?

Then, I finish up, completely free of dirt and considerably warmer than I was just fifteen minutes ago. I get dressed, but it's weird to be in my old clothes again. They still fit me because they're only a year or two old; they just weren't 'exciting' enough to take with me when we moved. Still, it's better than the shirts in District Thirteen. Gross.

I make my way back downstairs, and to my surprise, I have a guest sitting on the couch in my living room, shuffling a deck of my old playing cards. "You're here already?"

"Geez, Cato. I live up the block. Even in a storm, it doesn't take me any more than a minute or two to get there." She pushes a small, blue bowl in my direction across the coffee table.

"How long have you been here?" I sit on the floor in front of the bowl, cross-legged, and pick up the spoon. "What is this?"

"Five minutes. Chicken noodle soup."

My jaw drops. I love chicken. "How'd you even get this? They sell it around the district now?" I must've missed a lot.

"No, but the mayors of the districts all get things from the Capitol that we don't, don't they?" she asks.

"I'd assume so. I never got chicken noodle soup, and I'm a victor." I take a sip of the steaming broth. Hot food is wonderful. "Do you always get this stuff from them?"

"Flora only gave it to me because she knew we were best friends before the reaping, and Saturday morning happened, so she basically gave me a bunch of cheap Capitol food as condolences for your death," she laughs.

I scoop out a few twisty noodles and a lump of chicken and take my first full bite, getting a bit of carrot as well. Fucking delicious. "She still had a thing for me, didn't she?"

"Oh, she was heartbroken," she shakes her head. "She kept me there for about an hour, telling me about how she finally had a date with you in early November, but you mysteriously cancelled. Then she found out about you and Lover Boy a few weeks ago, and figured that was why. Telling me about how she wishes they sent Mellark out to fight instead of you, because then you'd be safe and he would be dead, and-"

"And then I'd be single." By this point, half the bowl was emptied. I was very hungry. "I never could stand having those girls go after me."

"You?" She raises an eyebrow. "Career tribute, heartthrob of Panem, originally District Two, ultimate hottie Cato didn't like all the girls?"

"Not really," I shrug.

"Why, too perfect for them?"

"I'm not actually like that. I put up a front to see who'd actually take the time to get to know me. If any of them had figured me out, I probably would've said yes to them." I pause. "Peeta I think was the only one who knew me well. And we'd only known each other for less than a week. That's why he's the winner."

"I thought you were a stuck-up ass, too. Why'd you want me?"

"I thought you were only humoring me. Turns out you just really didn't know." I take the last sip of broth and lick the bowl clean, noticing she got me a little juice box, too. I down that in about twenty seconds. Satisfied.

"I know now."

"Too late. I already have the one I wanna spend my life with. Nothing's going to change that," I smile, wiping my mouth clean with a napkin.

"Wow, you're really serious about this guy." She pauses. "Tell me about him."

"What's it to you, Tonia?"

She stops playing around with the cards for a moment. "Don't get so touchy, sweetie. It's just casual chat between friends."

"Oh..." I sigh happily, readjusting to a kneeling position. "Well, we slept in the same bed every night completely innocently and I love that because it's not just, oh, we're sleeping in the same bed so I'm gonna fuck it, but it's just me holding him there because I didn't want to see him go, and god I love him so much and I miss him." I take a second to breathe. "He really needs me as much as I need him so it means the world to him that I'm out here trying to keep him safe but neither of us wanted me to go, and I had to, so he's patiently waiting for me to get back and oh man, does he really need me right now, because he probably thinks I'm dead, whoops. We're basically each other's life support and oh, am I saving his life right now. You know, I have a secret, my dad really hated him so I'm going to kill him. Shh."

She laughs quietly, trying to avoid the awkward situation I just put us in. "Calm down, you didn't need to give me a minute-long monologue that is a lot to take in so quickly." Antonia pauses again, and puts the cards back on the table. "Life support?"

"Can't live without each other. I spent every minute with him that I possibly could." I really miss Peeta. "How's your family holding up?"

"So-so," she sighs. "Better than months ago, but...the house is lonely."

"I know. Deaths of loved ones can be hard. It's better to forget, but sometimes...you can't."

"She's my little sister. I wouldn't want to forget her even if I could. You might've thought her crush on you was annoying, but I loved her anyway."

I laugh a little bit. "I might've thought so sometimes, mostly because the wrong sister had a little crush on me. But it was cute." I stand and walk over to the entrance to my kitchen after picking up my backpack, now that I'm all warmed up and fed. "Bring me home now?" Although nothing is really home to me without Peeta. Victors' Village is a start.

Immediately, she gets up and follows me through the kitchen and out the back door, locking it behind us. "So what exactly are you going to do there?" she asks, taking me down the street. At least the snow let up a bit.

"Getting all my snow gear, first of all," I laugh. "And then I need some of my other things, and I'm going to try to call District Thirteen."

"You have the number for them?"

I bite my bottom lip. "No. But the number might be written down or something. In the call log, even." Hope will do me well.

"So...this whole rebellion's been going on for years?" she questions. "That's insane...nobody even knew. But it's great. My family and I have been wronged by the Capitol. I want anyone who is at fault to be punished."

"I feel the same way. And..." I look away, over all the houses, to try to see if I can see Victors' Village. Just faintly. "Is my mom around?"

"Haven't seen her," she shrugs.

Just as I suspected. Guess I'll know the truth soon.

And soon comes in silence, as we spend the rest of our walk keeping quiet, not talking about the rebellion, not about Clove, not about Peeta. Nothing. Just keeping away from the prying eyes of other people from my home district, who are actually even allowed to be alive right now. People, who glance at us, and just brush it off as a couple taking a romantic walk. The kind of walk I wish I were having with Peeta right now. I'd told him I wanted to see the big snow.

Then, I walk up to the front of my house and try to open the door, and fail miserably, especially considering I didn't think to bring my key with me when I was forcibly dragged out of the house unconscious so that I could be tortured with Peeta for twelve hours. No, my house key is up on my bedroom floor or some other unuseful place like that. "Do you have anything I can use to pick the damn lock?"

She takes a silver bobby pin out of her hair and hands it to me. Oh, these are the good kind. Not the shitty ones coated in black paint that can't open shit. I always used to scrape the paint off of these and give them to my friends when I was little so that they could sneak into places they weren't supposed to be in.

So, attempting to remember how Peeta picked the lock to the train in the Capitol, I jam the clip into the keyhole with some force, looped end in, and twist it around for a while. I have to take it out several times to make sure I'm not stripping it, then try again. As I give up after the fourth attempt, I twist the doorknob and it opens. I suppose it unlocked sometime in the past few minutes but missed the click.

"I'm home."

Not for long, though. I run halfway up the staircase and call down, "I'll be right back!" And then I kick open my bedroom door. It's as I left it. Bloodstains are on the edge of the nightstand and on the floor near it. Sheets and blankets are all over the place, not because I never make my bed, but because Peeta and I fooled around on there before we had to leave. So I take a minute to lay down on it, taking in the moments we were having before my father crashed our little party. Moments that we were supposed to have we ruined. We were about to have sex right here.

Nostalgia hits me like a bitch and slaps me back into reality, realizing that I can't stay on this bed forever. I can't stay in my room forever. I'm not even allowed to stay in this house. Odds are, I can never come back. Either I'll be dead, or we'll lose the war, or it'll hurt too much to stay here. And I hate it because I love District Two with all my heart. It's a fucked up place, but it's what I'm used to. It was hard enough giving up my old home. The only reason why I was allowed to let that house go was because I hated having some of the memories of it. But I associate my house here in Victors' Village with happy memories because this is where I first lived with Peeta. Not exactly our house, but it's close enough.

I open up the nightstand and take out my old notebook-the one I would write down all his naughty dreams in-and set it on my bed. Maybe I'll show him one day, so that he can get all red and flustered. Then I dump out the contents of my backpack and only keep what's important. I'd eaten all my food already. I'm keeping the uniform. All of the wet clothes in my bag are disgusting and moldy-smelling from the water, so I replace those with a few of my simple articles of clothing. Only a few shirts, some underwear, and socks to last me for however long I need to travel. Which, hopefully, won't be any longer. District Thirteen needs to hook me up with a hovercraft as soon as possible, anyway. I'm not going to waste my time with pants since they take up too much room, so I only put one pair of sweatpants in. I lost my gun a while back and basically the only relatively useful item I have left for fighting is my sword.

Once my pack is rearranged, I put the notebook in, as well as that photograph that I kept on my nightstand. I'll give it to Peeta when I see him. And finally, since my pack is almost full, I take off my sweatshirt, put on Peeta's jacket (actually my red one, but it's his now), and put my sweatshirt back on over it. I'm not going to want to deal with a huge coat and all, so I think this is good. Warmer clothing than what I've been wearing the past week anyway.

Before I go back downstairs, there are two more things I need to do. So I put on the TV, hoping for any news regarding the rebellion. At first, they're only showing Capitol TV, but eventually District Thirteen overrides it and broadcasts their own news. Apparently, they've got every district except for this one. Typical. They'd won Four, and every other non-Career district was already on the rebels' side, and One must've followed shortly after Four. District Two...it's just different. According to this, a lot of people in Two sided with the rebels after what happened with me on Saturday, because oh, they loved me. But with this place being Peacekeeper central, any uprisings were kept quiet and destroyed. If Thirteen is able to get Two, it'll be thirteen districts against the tiny Capitol. We'd win for sure.

The screen changes after that to one of Peeta's propos. I missed seeing his face! But I know for a fact that this must've been filmed some day after I left, because I'd seen every one of his propos up until my departure. No-I know for sure that it's recent now. I always know when something is wrong with that boy. He's in pain. His face shows it.

His arm shows it.

His arm.

"Oh god, he tried again," I mumble to myself. Was it bad of me to make him promise to stay alive for me? Was it selfish that I wanted him to do that instead of what he wanted to do? He told me it wasn't selfish. Selfish would be me asking him to kill himself to be with me. But I knew how painful it was for me when he was gone for three months. I haven't even been gone a week and he tried to kill himself. I feel horrible.

But now I can see him, because I made him promise me. He'll be alive when I get there. If he doesn't try again.

I turn off the television and run over to the phone in my room. I begin searching through the list of incoming calls, but where the number for District Thirteen should be...there's nothing. It had to have been here. My mom would've said something on the phone that one day about it being an unlisted call. She probably deleted the number so that my dad couldn't find it.

I frantically punch in the area code 13, hoping it'll connect me to some information center or anything. 'Sorry, the area code you have dialed is invalid.' "Damn it! It's fucking valid!" I dial an information number next. "Hello? Hi, hi, I need any number for District Thirteen. Any number."

"I'm sorry, but since District Thirteen has only just come into contact with the nation fairly recently, so there aren't any numbers listed."

I immediately hang up the phone. The one thing I was hoping for. Gone.

I run back downstairs and sprint into my kitchen, taking out a bunch of travel-friendly foods and filling up the rest of my pack with them. Then, I spot it. That glorious cake. I get out a plate, fork, and cake cutter and immediately slice a piece of cake to go before closing the door. Hey, I told him that when I got home, I'd have a piece of his cake. Too bad I'm in a dire situation and can't eat the whole thing.

I head to the front door with my cake and my backpack and set it all down on the table in the hallway. First, I put on a maroon knit hat, then a grey scarf, and finally, a pair of black gloves. I feel ridiculous wearing a scarf because in my opinion, they just get in the way, but they keep me warm. I stuff the ends of the scarf down my sweatshirt so that it's mostly hidden from view. Then, I pick up all my stuff again and take my first bite of cake. Yum. I'm sure it was better when it was first made, but it's just so damn good. And I think this piece is red velvet. That's Peeta's favorite. And oh, the cream cheese frosting. Perfect. "Ready to go?"

I finish the plate of cake by the time I get to my old house. I need to stay here until I'm ready to confront my dad. I can't be hanging around Victors' Village, just in case he comes by. "Thanks for staying with me today," I say, letting us into the house. "I'll call for you later, okay? I just need to mentally prepare myself, and rest..." I throw my pack onto the table and lie down on the couch.

"How long do you think you'll be until you're prepared?" Antonia asks me.

"Oh, I dunno...up to a day. Later tonight at the least. Or is that a bad time?" I yawn. I'd barely gotten sleep. Maybe I'll be lucky enough to get some in the next few days.

"A better time would be now."

"No, it kinda wouldn't be," I laugh lightly, turning onto my side.

"He's on his way."

A/N: You get to learn some fun things about Cato, yes? :D Review with your thoughts!