Clato // THG Fanfic

Clato

"Cato! Cato!" Clove's screams echoed throughout the forest and bounced off the surrounding trees. The frustration in her voice was unmistakable.

"Don't you dare walk away. This conversation is not over. You understand me?!"

Cato spun around in anger and hissed, "This conversation is over. Do you understand me? I'm not going to let you get the backpack or kill anyone if they are there. We will stay in the woods and wait for them to come to us."

Clove opened her mouth to retort, but Cato continued, "There's nothing in the pack except for food—yes, I know we're running low—or armor; we won't be needing any more food or armor if we stick to our plan. If all goes well, we'll become victors soon after the feast."

Once again, Clove looked like she was going to say something, but she thought better of it and stalked away. Cato's heartbeat was pounding in his ears. The thought of Clove getting hurt made him sick. He quickly pushed the thought away and settled to take the first shift.

The next morning, the tributes woke up early to prepare for the feast.

"Remember, we're staying in the shadows. We wait for our prey to come to us and then we can finish them off." Cato reminded Clove. She gave a nod in acknowledgment, but an entirely different scenario was running through her head.

She would sneak into the Cornucopia while Cato wasn't paying attention. When another tribute goes to collect his pack, she would attack. Once the tribute is finished, she would be able to get his pack and District 2's as well. It seemed like a great plan; a plan that would surely impress and win Cato over. Another thought occurred to her.

"Cato?" He looked up from sharpening his sword. "If we do see 12, I get her, right?"

He thought about it for a minute, then spoke. "Only if you give the audience a good show" The corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk.

"I promise." "Then be my guest". They stood and smiled at each other for a long minute before they heard a twig snap nearby. They gave each other a last nod and headed their own ways. Cato reached the spot in the forest where he would wait for District 12. He knew where he cut the male tribute, so he wasn't worried about being outnumbered.

On the other hand, Clove would search for District 5 at the Cornucopia. Before she had even reached the tree line, she saw a figure dart out of the Cornucopia, clutching her pack. It was District 5. Clove saw her too late and she sprinted too quickly for her to be chased. Clove decided that Cato would be able to take care of her and focused her attention back to others.

No sooner had she made the decision than another figure shot out of the trees. This time, Clove was ready and launched the knife at 12. It split the skin above her right eyebrow, oozing blood down into her eye. Clove took the temporary moment of 12's blindness to lunge at her.

Their bodies collided and they rolled around the ground, both trying to be on top. There was no chance for 12 to win and Clove quickly locked 12 underneath her.

"Where's your boyfriend, District Twelve? Still hanging on?" she asked, grinning. She felt a surge of pride and spat,"He's nearly dead. Cato knows where he cut him..."

This was the best part. "I promised Cato if he let me have you, I'd give the audience a good show." Clove couldn't help but smile. She had a sudden flashback to that morning when she woke up in Cato's arms and found him in an odd, but happy, mood. The struggling limbs of 12 below her brought her back to reality.

"Now, where to start?" Clove surveyed 12's blood-smeared face and traced the outline of her lips with the tip of the blade.

"I think... I think we'll start with your mouth. Yes, I don't think you'll have much use for your lips anymore. Want to blow Lover Boy one last kiss?"

Before the knife actually touched 12's flesh, Clove felt a great force pull her off of 12. District 11 had lifted her off the ground. He flipped her around and flung her onto the ground. He lifted the stone, the size of a small loaf of bread, and Clove couldn't play her character anymore.

"Cato! Cato!" she screeched for her only hope.

"Clove!" Cato answered from far away.

District 11 struck Clove's temple, leaving a dent. Her chest was rising and falling quickly and a low moan escaped her lips.

"Clove!" Cato's voice was nearer now. The pain in that one word was evident that he could see her on the ground. He sprinted faster than he had ever in his life towards the limp body.

When he reached her, he knelt down beside her. He hastily dropped his spear and took her deformed skull into his tear-stained hands. He realized it was futile; she couldn't be saved.

"Please, Clove, stay with me." He begged her. "Come on... you promised you wouldn't." He sobbed into her chest.

"I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have believed you. I knew you would do something reckless" He thought he saw the slightest hint of humor in her eyes before it faded away quickly.

"Clove... I... I love you." The life was fading away in her eyes. Cato wasn't sure if she heard the last part or not. He hated himself for playing his character so well. He should have told her his true feelings earlier. All those years training with her and he had never once mentioned his feelings. Now it was too late.

"I'm dead too." He whispered. He clung to her body until he cheeks were dry and sticky with his tears. He willed himself to get up. He needed to get his revenge, for Clove's sake. He knew that the hovercraft would take her soon and kissed her gently on her forehead, as if not to wake her from a deep sleep.

"I'm so sorry... I wish things weren't this way... you didn't deserve this." Clove had been a girl, a victim in their Games. She was a piece in their games. He knew exactly how she felt, being trapped inside someone she wasn't. He knew her. It was either to kill or be killed. No one wanted the latter. Finally, a cannon boomed, signally her death. He couldn't stop the tears from re-spilling over and streaking his face, but he reluctantly got up to head for his revenge. 

Cato found himself covered in a mixture of Clove's, District 11's, and his own blood on top of the Cornucopia with both tributes of District 12. He had the male tribute in a headlock, cutting off his air. By this time, he had given up on the Capitol's game.

"Go on, shoot! And we both go down and you win." He told 12. Her fingers gripped her bow tighter as she debated her choices.

"Go on, I'm dead anyway." A stab of pain shot through him. It wasn't a physical wound. What was he without her? Even, if he did get out of the Games alive, he wouldn't be able to live with the survivor's guilt.

"I can still do this." He lied. "I can still do this. One more kill. It's the only thing I've ever known how to do" This part was the truth. Ever since he was a child, he had been training for this day. The day when a tribute became a victor. They were so brainwashed that none of them truly understood what they were doing.

"—bring pride to my district. Not that it matters." He added the last part and another flash of pain seized his heart. He thought about life without her and it pained him too much.

A moment later, an arrow pierced his hand and he was knocked off the Cornucopia. His body hit the ground with a loud thud. All other sounds were lost in the snarls and growls of mutts.

At first, he fought back. He wanted Clove's death to have meant something. He wanted her to be remembered. After what seemed like forever, he could feel his strength sapping. As he hopelessly took swings at attacking mutts, he realized there was no use.

In the slight chance that he would survive, he wouldn't want to. He had already thought over this. He gave up. His entire body ached as he laid on the ground and thought about District 11's death. He had had his revenge. He felt himself slowly drowning in blackness.

He could let go; he had his revenge. He could be with Clove.