A Second Chance - A Clato/HG Story

3. FINCH

Not bothering to excuse herself, Clove scrambled out of her chair and burst through the door, sprinting down the hall on sockless feet. She almost crashed into a nurse wheeling along a cart, and didn't stop to apologize. All she could think was that Cato was in pain and she needed to get to him.

She came to his room to see Cato thrashing around on the gurney, blood flowing from his newly-stitched wounds. His face was distorted in an expression she had never seen on him before, full of something she could only describe as terror. On either side of him, Capitol nurses attempted to hold him down, but Cato was strong despite his injuries. She felt the blood drain from her face as one of the nurses pulled out some kind of contraption.

A shock of electricity was sent through Cato's body, and he let out a blood-curdling scream, continuing to thrash furiously. Clove couldn't take it anymore. She slammed the door with her entire body weight, sending her crashing into the room.

"Stop!" she shrieked, grabbing one of the nurses by the shoulders and wrenching her away from Cato. "You're killing him!"

Clove saw the other nurse getting ready to flee, but she blocked the door, panting with the effort. "What are you doing to him?" She barked. Her eyes were locked onto Cato's convulsing body, wanting desperately to make it stop somehow.

"Backup!" was the last thing Clove heard before she felt a needle stabbed into her shoulder and her body went as limp as a ragdoll.

"Cato!" was the first word out of her mouth when Clove jolted awake. But it was not Cato standing before her. Instead, she was faced with the stony face of President Snow, looking down at her in her hospital bed with an empty expression.

She ignored the queasy feeling in her stomach at the sight of him, not letting herself wonder how long the man had lingered above her bed, watching her sleep. Instead, she sat up attentively, making respectful eye contact with the intimidating man.

"Miss Kentwell. I would very much like to speak with you." He motioned to the edge of Clove's bed. "May I?"

She nodded.

The President lowered himself onto the bed with a sigh. "Much better," He murmured. "Now, Miss Kentwell. I'm sure you know why I am here."

"I know," She looked away now for the first time since she woke up.

"Good. The first step to earning forgiveness is to acknowledge your mistake." The President;s voice was tense, and Clove knew for sure that she had angered him. "Next, you must understand why your actions were wrong." He crossed his hands on his lap. "Tell me. Why did you enter that hospital room?"
"They were torturing him," Clove felt her voice struggle to remain calm. Didn't he know why she had done it? "I wasn't-" she sighed frustratedly. "I wasn't trying to disobey. I wanted to help him."

"Ah. Out of the goodness in your cold heart," He muttered, clearly not believing that she actually cared for Cato enough to fight for him. "Either way, I'm sure you understand what your actions represent?"

"No," Clove said flatly. "I don't."

"They represent dissent," Bitterness edged the President's words. "They represent disobedience and disrespect. We have taken it upon ourselves in the Capitol to save your life, as well as Mister Hadley's. You understand that?" His milky eyes bored into hers, imploring her to answer the question.

"Yes, sir." She responded. "I do."

"Good. I will forgive this behavior, because you accepted your wrongs so graciously." Snow rose from the bed. "More of your fellow tributes have awoken. You may see them in the Group Room." with this, he nodded to Clove and left the room.

She sat motionless in bed for more than a few minutes, mulling over what she had just been told. So Snow had taken her attempt to protect Cato as "dissent?"

Clove had always imagined speaking to the President as different than what she encountered today. Maybe a bit more relating to her. But President Snow could not have been more different than she could have imagined. It was as if they had absolutely nothing in common. He spoke differently, thought differently. He had talked to her like she was foreign, like her District roots somehow made him wary of her. Wouldn't he have favored a tribute from District Two?

Shaking the feelings from the strange interaction off, Clove set off to the group room. It was night of the same day, she could tell by the analog clock on her bedside table, but the inside of the hospital was as bright and sterile as ever.

As she passed Cato's room, she looked inside. For some reason, she wasn't shock risk that he wasn't there. The room had been scrubbed of any kind of mess, just another cold, sterile hospital quarter.

Clove clenched her fists, a little light night bolt of fury filing her. Of course they had taken kshhm away.

There was a single tribute in the Group Room when Clove arrived. A slight red-headed girl, whose golden eyes darted to and from Clove when she spotted her. Clove recognized her immediately as Finch, the girl from five who had evaded her throughout the games. And, somehow, who had outlived her.

Finch was sitting alone, using what looked like a pair of surgical scissors to meticulously cut. a piece of paper. Clove debated saying something to her. She had never once said a word to the girl, just watched her from afar. But she supposed she had nothing to lose now.

"What are you doing?" Clove asked. The question came off accusatory and maybe even angry, and Clove realized this when Finch's eyes dropped away from her in fear. She didn't respond.

Clove shrugged and sat down in a plastic chair a few feet from the red headed girl. She berated herself for coming off too harshly, although she didn't know why she was seeking out people to speak to in the first place.

It's not like Clove wasn't used to a solitary life. She was attuned to being on her own, relying on herself, confiding her doubts and emotions only to her. But something about the atmosphere of the Capitol Hospital was cracking her composure. These people, they were like robots. She absolutely hated to admit it, but she probably had more in common with these lowly, sniveling tributes than the preening people who looked after her here.

"I don't have my knives in here. Relax." Clove tried a more casual approach, and Finch glanced at her again, sizing her up. Eventually, the other girl stopped cutting her paper and placed it down on the small wooden table to her right.

"I don't really know what I thought you'd be like," Finch said finally.

Clove shrugged. "Well, last time I was going to kill you. I'm probably a bit friendlier now."

Finch seemed to find this a bit amusing, because she chuckled under her breath, but then went back to staring dejectedly at the ground. "That's true. Although, I don't really know if where we are now is much safer." After saying this, Finch, looked nervously around the room, as if someone would pop out at her at any moment.

this puzzled Clove. "Why wouldn't we be safe? it's a damn hospital."

"It's one of their hospitals," Finch murmured. "They have no reason to help us."

"Maybe not you," Clove looked sharply at the other girl. "Remember, I'm district two. You know, worth something."

Finch's expression was blatantly disbelieving, but she ignored Clove if she felt like arguing her. This angered Clove slightly, however. This girl, speaking with her like her equal. They may both be district, but there was a clear distinction between them.

"What, got something to say?" Clove said snidely. "Like I said before, I cant kill you even if I wanted to."

"They see us the same," Finch stated, voice hard with certainty. "It doesn't matter to them. Youre just as District as I am."

Clove snorted. "right. I think the only thing you and I have in common is that we don't live in the Capitol. Why do you think your people fight for scraps while ours live comfortably?"

Finch sighed, and rose from her seat, paper and scissors in hand. "You'll see," Was all she said before leaving the room.