We Could Have Been Great

Chapter 19

The doors slide shut behind them and all four of them head into the lounge car which has big sofas and a tv screen.

"Alright. Rooms will be as before. If you can't remember, that means Clove and Cato you will be down the corridor just down from here, Clove your room is on the right, Cato yours is on the left and me and Brutus have the corridor one down from that. We'll see you for dinner."

Brutus and Enobaria disappear off to find their rooms and with a soft swish of the automatic door, Clove and Cato are left alone.

Cato throws himself down onto one of the deep sofas.
"I can't believe we're actually going home." He sighs.

"That much faith in us huh?" Clove jokes, sitting down next to him.

Cato chuckles but then his face turns serious, "Do you think it's weird?"
"What?"
"The fact that we're going home."
"Well I'll admit it does feel weird. But that's just because so much has happened since we left," Clove explains.

Cato thinks it over for a second, "Yeah. It doesn't seem right that we went through all of that, all that training, all that killing, days and nights of fighting and trying not to die and now we're just expected to go back to our old lives like nothing ever happened."

"Well, we'll be in the Victor's Village now. And we'll have the opportunity to become mentors for later Games. And trainers at the Academy. And before we know it it'll be the Victory Tour," Clove says.

"All of that's true. But it just still feels odd."
"I know what you mean," Clove sighs, sinking further back into the sofa.

The two sit for a while in a tired, comfortable silence before Cato finally stands up.
He stretches out his back and looks down next to him only to see Clove fast asleep on the sofa.

He smiles at her: she looks so peaceful. He chooses to leave her since he knows that she didn't get much sleep before or during the Games and silently leaves the carriage.

Cato decides that exploring the rest of the train will be a good way to pass the time before dinner. He didn't see much of it on the way to the Capitol as he only went in his room and the dining car. He wasn't interested in seeing any other part of it.

Now, he ventures to the back of the train where there are big windows and cushioned benches lining the walls.

Having just been sat down for a couple of hours, Cato stands instead, watching out the back of the train as the landscapes flash by and quickly disappear behind them.

It's strange, standing there. Flying through the country on his way back to 2. On his way back home. Because it doesn't feel the same anymore.

His whole life, he had dreamt of winning the Hunger Games. He had dreamt of what it would be like to have that gold victor's crown placed on his head. What it would feel like living up in Victor's Village, of being a hero in his home district.

But it just didn't quite feel right. Whenever he'd imagined it, he hadn't felt this tightness in his chest. Or the faint pain behind his eyes. Or the frequent reoccurring dream that Thresh really did kill Clove.

He had never imagined how much the 'what ifs' would haunt him. What if he hadn't got to Clove in time? What if the gamemakers hadn't called off the games when they had? What if he hadn't managed to catch Clove when she slid down towards the mutts? What if... what if... what if...

But it's no use dwelling on things that didn't even happen. So Cato takes a deep breath and keeps looking out of the window.

They're finally going home.
'We're finally going home.'

After being away for so long, after all of that fighting and all of that death, the thought of finally being able to return to the familiar comfort of home brings a smile to Cato's face.

Because he had missed it. He had missed the noise in his house, his older brothers play fighting and his sisters laughing.

Of course he didn't miss his father's shouting. Or his mother's silence. That was worse than any word his father could throw at him. It was scarier than anything he had faced in those Games. Because it meant she was getting worse again, that she was slipping away.

The dread of what he might actually be facing when he gets home is starting to creep in when the door to the carriage slides quietly open.

"Hey. I wondered where you had got to." Clove walks in, joining Cato at the window.
"Just needed to clear my head. And I didn't want it wake you: you looked fast asleep."
"I guess I must have been tired. I mean, we didn't exactly sleep much during the Games did we?" Clove jokes lightly.

Neither have slept much since the Games either but neither of them say it. They don't have to. Somehow, they understand each other perfectly, especially after being through something as gruelling as the Games together.

"Are you worried about how people might react when we go home?" Cato asks, not looking at Clove.
"Worried that they'll blame us for not killing 12? No. Think that they will blame us? Yes. But we can handle them. We had quite a reputation before the Games and now, we've shown the whole of Panem how ruthless we can be."

For a second, Cato envies Clove's confidence. He wishes that he had such unshakable faith in himself that he could know that he will be able to fight back against whatever his dad has waiting for him.

But Cato knows Clove as well as she knows him. And he can hear the slight shake in her voice. He can see the slight hunch in her shoulders, the tiredness in her eyes.

She's just as pissed off at them as he is for not finishing off Katniss and Peeta when they had their chance. She's just as scared that the district they have called home their whole lives may turn their backs on them and call them pathetic. Weak.

"You're right. It's going to be fine." Cato agrees.
Clove just nods.

They both just stand and stare for a minute as the country speeds past them. The grass is a brownish green, dried out from the sun and the heat. The sky is a pale grey, the usual blue having been consumed by the clouds.

For a second, it's peaceful. There are wild flowers blooming on the sides of the tracks. The flat land stretches far away from them in every direction.

"It is going to be fine," Cato says again, his soft words merge seamlessly with the silence.

"I know," Clove murmurs back.

"Because we can handle anything," Cato adds.
Clove chuckles quietly, "Anything at all."

Cato reaches out and takes her hand, holding it tightly. The two of them go back to watching the scenery slowly start to give way to the familiar sights of home.

And for the first time in their lives, everything is quiet and still. A peaceful calm settles in the carriage and they smile.

Because after everything they've been through, after everything they've seen, after everything they've done, they are still together and now, they have made it back to District 2.

They are finally home.