I sat down on a rock, silent, just sat there. I watched as Marvel did the same. I didn't know what to do. My brain wanted to scream, my heart wanted to cry, and my logic told me not to do anything. And that's what I did.
I wasn't silent because I listened to my logic but because my heart was beating so fast that hardly any oxygen was getting into my lungs.
I felt my stomach clench but I knew I had to pull myself together. That's what Cato would have wanted. Would have. He's gone.
I just got the idea into my head when a muscular figure trampled through the shrubs. It was Cato. Before I even had time to rationalize, I was up on my feet dashing towards Cato. My brain told me to keep myself together, but no matter how hard I tried, my legs wouldn't stop running.
I throw myself into his already open arms. I feel my cheeks get hot and I feel my eyes start to sting with tears. Bite my lip and swallow hard refusing to let myself be week for even a second.
"What was that about?" Cato asks, chuckling a bit at my overwhelming excitement that he was there.
"We heard the canon and," I look over to Marvel, still on the edge of crying, "And we thought it was you." I finish.
"No it wasn't. I don't know who it was though. I actually thought it was one of you, I though that the tracker jackers got you like they got-" He stops and glances at Marvel and knows that he should not continue his phrase.
I look down to the bloody sword by his side. I was still debating whether or not to ask what happened when he explained.
"Lover boy was back there telling 12 to run. He was protecting her. We guaranteed him more life and he spent it on her. I slashed his leg but he got away. He's not dead yet, but he might as well be. We don't have to worry about him; he's good as dead. Come on, let's go back to the camp." Cato starts walking past us in the direction of the lake. Marvel and I follow, only the three of us left in the career pack. Well, and the little runt from 3, but he wont last much longer.