beta-read by gkmoberg1
Little Lion Man by Munford & Sons
Weep, little lion man,
You're not as brave as you were at the start
...
Tremble, little lion man,
You'll never settle any of your scores
Your grace is wasted in your face,
Your boldness stands alone among the wreck
A lot of this chapter is quoted or paraphrased from the movie or book - The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. Direct Quotes are in italics and a lot of the finale is paraphrased from the book.
Chapter 25
Cato was dead.
He was dead in every aspect except reality. His heart was gone – gone with Winnow and Clove's deaths. His mind was all but gone – dulled and blanked by his pain. By his loss.
Was this what death felt like? Like emptiness and bitterness, tainted by regret and a lust for revenge?
No, that couldn't be possible.
Death had to be better.
Less pain. Less thought. Less memories.
Death had to be better.
Cato was counting on it.
It had been just over twenty-four hours since she had died. Been murdered. The sun had set twice.
Cato was still unsure what to do with himself.
He hadn't slept under the tarp last night. Not with the memories. Hadn't slept at all. Could only think of Winnow. Winnow and Katniss.
He didn't care about Peeta anymore. But he wanted Katniss dead. Winnow had hated her so much, and Fire-Bitch had undermined so many of their efforts.
If it was the last thing he did – Cato wouldn't let them win. Not both of them, anyhow.
It was only a short time after sunset that he began to hear strange noises. Inhuman noises. Cato got to his feet slowly, reaching for his sword.
Just as his hand closed around the weapon - several dark, massive creatures melded from the darkness. Cato could see light flash off several pairs of jagged, sharp teeth.
In the pale moonlight, one creature – a Mutt, Cato was sure – took a few steps forward, emerging from the ranks. The Mutt had Winnow's pale blue eyes and sharp features. The sword fell from his fingers.
The Winnow-Mutt looked back to the others. Other Mutts with Marvel's crooked grin; Clove's beady, black eyes and sharp teeth, and Glimmer's green eyes and blond fur. The Winnow-Mutt moved forward swiftly – ramming its body against Cato's, knocking him on his back.
Cato lay still there and waited for it to kill him. Waited to be released. But all the Mutt did was paw at him and nip at his feet.
He sat up carefully and slowly got to his feet. The Winnow-Mutt watched him unwaveringly, its haunting eyes trained on him as he began to back away. It didn't move. Cato turned and ran – adrenaline helping him to think more carefully.
The Mutts at the Alpha's back – the Winnow-Mutt – rippled with impatience for the hunt, saliva beginning to drip from their jowls. The Mutt with Glimmer's eyes surged forward – only for the Winnow-Mutt to snap its powerful jaws at the other, putting the other Mutt back into its place.
The Winnow-Mutt turned back to watch as the blond ran – only starting after him once he had gotten a fair distance away from them. And once the Alpha moved forward, the others followed.
Cato ran, ran as if his own ass was on fire. He could hear the Mutts behind him – their heavy breathing and their jaws snapping at each other.
The Cornucopia came into sight – giving him something to aim for instead of running blindly. The Mutts were closing in on him – but the boost of adrenaline helped Cato to stay ahead.
With a flying leap, Cato's fingers scrabbled at the Cornucopia's sides – inexplicably finding purchase on the mostly smooth surface. With the slight hold he found on the metal wall, Cato was able to heave himself onto the top of the structure just as one of the Mutts' jaws nearly snapped around his ankle.
The Muttations jumped at the sides of the Cornucopia, unable to reach him. Cato lay on his back, panting hard. He lurched to his feet when he heard voices – and other Mutts pawing at the metal walls.
At the other end of the Cornucopia, Katniss was pulling Peeta onto the structure. Cato was moving towards them silently – without so much as a plan on his mind. All he had was a burning need to avenge Winnow.
Cato gripped Katniss by the shoulders and threw her aside – sending her sliding across the slick metal structure. He gave her no time to get back on her feet, pinning her down and holding her over the edge of the Cornucopia.
The Mutts beneath – the Winnow-Mutt and its pack were frothing at the mouth, jumping higher and teeth snapping right beneath Katniss' head. That's right. Take off her head, Winnow! Cato thought.
But suddenly strong arms were pulling Cato back and off of Katniss – Peeta throwing him off to the side. Katniss gasped for air and scrambled away from the edge as Cato got back to his feet. The two blond males clashed – grappling and wrestling each other for the upper hand.
Cato came out on top – he always did. It was just as Katniss found her bow that the District Two tribute forced Peeta into a headlock. Peeta clawed at Cato's arm weakly as his air was cut off.
Katniss aimed one of her last two arrows at Cato's head.
Cato just laughed – a bitter and mocking noise. He took two steps backward, till he
stood on the edge, dragging Peeta with him. "Shoot me and he goes down with me." Katniss faltered, seeing the truth in his words.
Peeta's lips were turning blue. "Go on! I'm dead anyway." Cato exclaimed – taking Katniss off-guard. "I always was, right? I didn't know that 'til now." he said, blood spilling from his lips.
"How's that, is that what they want?" he laughed resentfully. His arms shifted, catching Katniss' attention – arms going from a headlock to holding the back of Peeta's head and chin. Ready to twist. "I can still do this. One more kill. For Winnow," Cato said.
Peeta began to draw an 'x' in blood on the back of Cato's hand in a last-ditch effort.
"It's the only thing I know how to do. Bring pride to my district. Not that it matters." Cato grimaced painfully.
Cato figured out what Peeta was doing exactly one second after Katniss did – because the grim smile dropped from his lips. It was one second too late because – by that time, Katniss' arrow was piercing Cato's hand. He cried out and reflexively released Peeta – who slammed back against him.
Both blonds nearly went over – but Katniss dived forward – just catching hold of Peeta as Cato lost his footing on the blood-slick horn and plummeted to the ground. Cato hit the ground with a loud smack, the air leaving his body on impact – and then the Mutts attacked him.
Peeta and Katniss huddled together, waiting for the cannon – but it didn't come.
Katniss didn't watch – but she could hear the snarling, the growling, and the howls of pain from both Cato and the Mutts as he took on the pack with only a dagger in hand. She could hear the dying scream of a Mutt.
Katniss couldn't keep track of the time. It could have been five minutes or five hours when Cato finally hit the ground. The two remaining tributes could hear the Mutts dragging him. Now they'll finish him off, Katniss thought.
But there was no cannon. Night fell and the anthem played, but there was no picture of Cato in the sky.
"Why don't they just kill him?" Katniss asked.
"You know why," Peeta answered, pulling her closer. Because one of us has to.
At dawn, no cannon has fired. "I think he's closer now, Katniss, can you shoot him?" Peeta asked.
"My last arrow's in your tourniquet," she reminded him.
"Make it count," Peeta said.
Katniss freed the arrow, tying the tourniquet back as tightly as her frozen fingers could manage. She rubbed her hands together, trying to regain circulation and feeling in the limbs. She crawled to the lip of the horn and hung over the edge – Peeta's hands gripped her for the support.
It only took a few moments to find Cato in the dim light, in the blood. Then the raw hunk of meat that used to be her enemy made a sound, and she knew where his mouth is. Was. It sounded as if the word he was trying to say was please.
Pity, not hate, sends her arrow flying into his skull. Peeta helped Katniss back up on the horn. "Did you get him?" he whispered. The cannon fired in answer. "Then we won, Katniss," he said hollowly.
"Hurray for us," Katniss managed to say – but there was no joy of victory in it. Not like in all the other Games they had watched. What joy was there to have – when the victory had cost them so much?
I really fucked it up this time
Didn't I, my dear?
But it was not your fault but mine
And it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
Didn't I, my dear?
A/N: Thanks to all of you who have reviewed. I can't believe this story is complete - (I'm usually no good at FINISHING something).
By now, you should be able to find the next installment of If I Had a Heart - called Panem et Circuses on my profile. The first chapter should be published already - to make the transition from this story to the next easier. (Out of anything - I do not wish you all to be waiting and waiting for the next installment to be published and then forget about Winnow and Cato. So once all 7 chapters of Panem et Circuses are published, you will find Chapter 1 of Saltwater Sting waiting as well.)
Whether you are reading this a week, a month, or a year after it was posted, please remember that I'm always looking for input on my writing and what you think of my stories. Please review to let me have it - whatever you want to say - go ahead, make my day. Thanks!