"Mmmm, long time no see. I can't say I've missed you." Cato taunted his district partner.
"Fuck off traitor." She seethed, malice lacing her tone.
"What's wrong? You're still mad about our fight earlier? You know, the one that ended with you running away like a little bitch baby?" The two began to circle one another.
"Where's the girl on fire?" Clove's voice was slick with emotion as she stared at him. Hatred dripped from her entire being.
"Somewhere out there, with an arrow pointed right at your skull." He smirked at the girl in front of him.
"Yeah right, I soaked that knife in poison. She's halfway dead by now. Such a shame about your little girlfriend, I'm sure the capitol just ate your star-crossed bullshit romance up." Clove scoffed at him.
"And why are you so bothered by it? Are you that attention hungry? Do you need validation that bad?" He sneered at her, allowing himself to slip the way he had before. There was no Katniss here now, nobody to save him from the monster that lurked just below the surface. All of his years of suppression hadn't just created a mask for him to wear… it had created a demon.
"Fuck that fire bitch! She's dead anyways, ditch her and me and you can win. Imagine the glory we could bring home. Two victors from two." Clove's voice had taken a dreamlike quality to it now, "They would remember our names forever. Instead, you want to waste it on some pathetic little district 12 scum." She spat at him.
That was it. The nail in the coffin.
"Clove, what the fuck makes you think I give a single shit about glory for District 2?" He took his first swing, causing the girl in front of him to jump back. "What makes you think I would ever, in a million fucking years, choose you?" He smacked the knife out of her hand now, her back against the cornucopia. She was shocked, noticing the crazed look in Cato's eyes and his dramatic change in demeanor. Gone was the quiet, commanding leader. Gone was the boy she had trained alongside of her entire life, in front of her stood a man with nothing but hatred in his eyes.
"Because it should be me. It's supposed to be me." She admitted quietly. Her change in demeanor matched his own, on a complete 180 a soft sadness entered her voice.
"What?" Temporarily snapped out of his mindless anger, Cato shook his head stepping back from the other tribute.
Clove exploded then, angry tears running down her cheeks and voice laced with desperation. "It's supposed to be me. I have waited so fucking long, always &* waiting for you to notice me! I wanted to be the volunteer this year so you might fucking notice me! I thought if everyone else loved me so would you. If the capitol loved me, so would you, but from the fucking moment we watched the reapings it had been nothing but Katniss this, Katniss that. And then, you! You don't think I saw how you looked at her? And then you ditched the fucking alliance to chase her around, like a sick little puppy dog! It makes me sick! It was supposed to be me! I want that stupid fucking bitch dead, just like that little brat from 11!"
Clove stood there, pinned by a shocked Cato, as she continued. "You're supposed to love me! Want me! I've been here this whole fucking time, you've known that rat for just barely a week! A week! She knows nothing about us, about how we train, about the glory we strive for!" She screamed.
Cato was confused, shocked at his unawareness of Clove's true intentions, when it finally sunk in the entire way. Instead of reacting, of fighting with her, or killing her, he simply just laughed. Quiet at first, until he was bent over, his body shaking as he continued.
"You dumb whore. You honestly thought I was going to want you?" He said through his laughter, he felt Clove start to move towards him. He stopped her, grabbing her throat, and throwing her against the golden metal. He held her there as he continued.
"I could never want you. And for the record, I do not strive for glory of any kind. I strive for survival. You would know that, if you paid attention as much as you say you had. You are a delusional, brainwashed, slave… who can't even be bothered to think for herself for three fucking seconds. You really thought torturing children to death would make me love you?" He pulled her forward, just to slam her back again and continue. "You thought that killing Rue would make me love you? I fucking hate you. I can't stand you." He spat at her, his faces just mere inches from hers. Clove kicked her legs, fruitlessly until her foot collided with the cut on his side. Pain shot through his body as he dropped the girl and his knife and doubled over.
Suddenly, he was on the ground rolling with her. He swung with his right arm, elbowing her in one of the wounds on her left shoulder. He threw his body forward, reaching for the machete on the ground when her hand reached into his pocket and pulled the sharp blade that lingered there. He felt it dig into the back of his calf, slicing open the flesh and meeting bone. He screamed in pain just as his hands wrapped around his own blade. He whipped around, swinging, and digging the knife into the side of her arm. Her blood sprayed forward onto him, coating his jacket in the bright red liquid.
Clove screamed, throwing herself forward. His back hit the ground as she climbed on top of him. She cut at his arm, slicing his hand right where he gripped his blade, knocking it from his possession and onto the ground next to him. Her foot came up to pin his arm, his broken left arm to the ground. She was wrapped around him, his other arm pinned behind his back as she raised the knife above him. The entire left side of his body was engulfed in pain as his shattered arm was crushed further under her weight. He tried to wedge his pinned arm free, desperately reaching for the blade he had dropped.
"Fine. If I can't have you, nobody will. I'll cut you up just like we did to your little friend Rue, and then I'll go find fire girl and make her final moments as painful as possible, yeah? How's that sound?" She sneered at him, dragging the blade of her knife across his temple, warm blood pooled from the wound above his eye. He threw his body to the right, using his legs to kick Clove off of him and finally grabbing hold of the machete. When suddenly, there was a flash, and she was pinned up against the side of the cornucopia once more. Thresh had found his way into the field, and he screamed as Clove kicked against him. She was like a rag doll against his larger frame. Cato threw himself to standing, wincing as he moved his arm.
"What'd you do to that little girl? You kill her?" The tribute from 12 shouts. Cato is taken aback, having never heard the larger boy make a sound above a mutter. Clove stutters, trying to force out words with Thresh's hand wrapped around her neck. The two are locked in a position Cato had been in with her only a few moments ago, seeing it from the outside made his stomach turn.
"No, No! It wasn't me!" She yells. Thresh drops her, sending Clove scrambling away on all fours like an insect. Suddenly, Thresh is dragging her back, a large rock in his hand. Cato cannot move, cannot speak. He could only stare on, a mixture of horror and satisfaction in his veins.
"I heard you." He growls at the girl, his hand bunched in her shirt. The girl dangles in his grip, screaming and kicking. He never flinches, doesn't even blink for a moment. He just continues holding her, his iron grip never wavering. "I fucking heard you. You said her name. You cut her up like you were going to do to your district partner?" Thresh's eyes look to him then.
The two men stand still, staring at one another. Thresh is looking for confirmation, the signal to kill the girl locked dangerously in his arms.
It's now or never. To kill or not to kill.
Images of Clove flash in his brain. Her learning how to throw knives next to him. Her snide comments as they trained together. Her volunteering. Her screaming on the tribute train. Her meltdown at the tribute parade, her throwing a vase. Glass in his chest. Her violence in the bloodbath, her torturing the poor girl from 8. The knives she threw at Katniss. Her entitlement to him. And finally, the image of her driving a knife into Katniss' side. The blood. The poison. The pain.
His head moved without conscious thought, nodding at the boy in front of him and sentencing Clove to death.
"Cato! Cato!" She screamed fruitlessly, reaching for him. He turned his face to stone, cruelty in the face of her certain death.
"Goodbye, Clove." He uttered, just as Thresh brings the rock down against her skull. Clove dropped then, blood pouring from her wound, a massive dent in her head. The cannon fires quickly, the girl only suffering for a few moments.
Thresh whips around to face him then, and Cato draws his sword and stands defensively in an instant. The tribute from 11 stared into his eyes with a strange look on his face.
"What'd she mean? About Rue being your friend?" He asks.
"She was- She was my ally. Me and Katniss, we tried to save her. But they got there first, her and District 1." Cato answered calmly, he was still avoiding the fight against Thresh. Not because he thought he would lose; he was armed fully and Thresh only had a rock. He still did not want to kill the boy in front of him. The memory of Rue's story, about the whipping the older boy took for her, stopped him from taking out his biggest competitor.
"You kill him? One?" The boy demanded.
"Yes. Katniss shot him. We buried her in flowers." He dropped his sword, signaling he did not want to fight. "Your district sent us bread."
The boy looked conflicted for a moment, before the tension left his body. Cato stood still, trying to avoid instigating anything. Even if he wanted to, he did not have time to fight another battle. Katniss needed the medicine, and she needed it now.
"Just this once two. For Rue. And then you and me… we are even, no more owed." Thresh stuck his hand out towards the blonde in front of him, his jaw clenched. Cato sheathed his sword, a sign of trust between the two, and clasped his hand with Thresh's. Both bloodstained, but for one brief moment, there was peace between the two. The moment of partnership in a game invented to pit them against one another.
The second their hands drop, Thresh flies to the table. He grabs his pack and the other from 12 and is running towards the large grasslands nobody else has dared to enter. Reality hits Cato like a shock, and suddenly he is grabbing Clove's pack and ensuring the others are still strapped to his back. He grabs the machete from the ground, keeping it in his hands as he sprints off into the forest. Leaving Clove's body behind without a second thought, he forces himself to move forward.
He dashed through the trees, jumping over everything, adrenaline the only thing keeping him going. For a moment, the blood pouring out of his head wound begins to drip down into his eyes. He wiped it away with the glove, only to pull back and see the white fabric soaked with bright crimson blood. He paid it no mind, pumping his arms faster and speeding up.
Katniss. Katniss. Katniss.
One name echoes in his mind as he dashes through the forest, the events at the cornucopia vanishing from his memory. His only focus was now on her, getting to her, saving her. The adrenaline in his veins creating a clarity he didn't know was possible.
Upon reaching the entrance to the cave, he rips the rocks from the opening and forces himself through. She hasn't moved yet looks worse. Her skin has taken on an ashy sheen, slick with sweat. The dark black veins have reached her neck now, dangerously close to her heart. He ripped the packs off his back, tearing the canvas open on the one marked twelve to find her medicine. The needle is large, filled with a bright orange liquid. He stabs it into her arm, forcing the plunger down with shaking hands. The life-saving antidote entered her bloodstream just as his vision started to blur, and the adrenaline left his body.
The final thing her remembered was the final echo of her name, and the sound of her gasping as the medicine brought her back to him.
Katniss.