Chapter Text
Cato glares out into the distance, his breath making visible clouds in front of him. Of course there’s snow in District 12. There was never snow in District 2.
Why does he have to be here? Everyone hates him for what he did in the games, and Cato’s forced to live in a house by himself next to Katniss’s. His parents didn’t want him to come back after what he did. Cato can’t help but hate himself for it, too. There should’ve been one victor.
Why did he listen to Katniss and that stupid plan of hers? Maybe then he wouldn’t be in this mess. With Cato’s whole district practically disowning him.
Albeit, he’d probably be dead since Katniss is pretty damn strong, but it’d mean more to his district if he’d just gone out. It’s dishonorable to even ally with a District 12 rat.
Cato’s out on the porch with only a tank top and sweatpants on, because he can’t stand to be stuck indoors for such a long time. Maybe it has something to do with how he couldn’t stay in one place during the games, or else he would’ve been killed.
Nah
, it’s probably because Cato needed fresh air. At three in the morning.
It’s fine. He’s fine. Cato has to be. Weaknesses have only proven to be useless. Vulnerability only leads to death. Those are the rules he went by when he—
Wait , Cato’s not in the games anymore… he knew that . Obviously.
Rustling can be heard up ahead in the thick of the woods. Cato narrows his eyes at the sound, reaching for his sword beside him. It was already out here, it’s not like he brought it out when he came out to ward off the monsters. Definitely not.
“CATO!” a feminine voice screams, pained.
Cato’s icy blue eyes widen, and, in his shock, he’s stupidly dropped my sword.
Clover .
On instinct, Cato runs towards her voice.
“CATO HELP!”
His heart pounds in his ears as he searches for her with his sharp eyesight. But then she stops calling for him.
Cato stops abruptly, breathing heavily. More snow steadily falls from the sky, and he vaguely notices that he forgot to put on shoes before coming out here.
“Clove!” Cato yells, turning around in hopes of seeing her.
No answer. He continues walking at a steady pace before he hears her again.
“CATO! OVER HERE!” she calls.
She sounds closer. Quickly, he sprints towards her. That’s when Cato sees her. His breath catches in his throat.
Her mutilated body lays at the trunk of one of the trees, blood pooling beneath her, staining the snow. It takes everything in him to keep from vomiting, but, more than anything, Cato’s in shock.
Clove’s chocolate brown eyes stare up at me, but she’s not really seeing him. She’s… dead. But…
No, no, no…
“Cato!” another voice calls to him, but this one is definitely male.
He doesn’t sound too happy. Cato doesn’t respond as he keeps staring at Clove, his heart beating wildly. He’s beginning to get a little dizzy. Is he even breathing? Oh yeah… Cato almost forgot he has to do that to live.
“Cato…” the voice is closer now, really close.
It’s almost as if he’s right next to him, but Cato doesn't pay him any mind.
“Cato?” the voice takes on a sort of confused tone as a hesitant hand clasps his shoulder.
Startled, Cato flinches and quickly backs away with his fists raised. He glares at that boy Katniss, for some reason, always hangs out with. Gale, he thinks his name is.
Gale raises his hands ever so slightly in a sort of surrender. He stares at Cato, frowning a bit.
“What’re you doing here?” Cato demands, going for a fierce tone.
“Coming out to get you.” Gale rolls his eyes as he puts his hands back down. “Katniss saw you running from her window and was about to come after you, but I told her I would. Anyway, what’re you doing out here? It’s freezing.”
Cato slowly lowers his still clenched fists.
“I was…” He glances at the spot where he saw Clove.
But she’s gone. Not even a drop of blood is left behind. Clove is…
Clove is dead.
She’s been dead, stupid. Has been since the games. How could Cato be so stupid and let this get to him?
Pathetic.
“You good?” Gale asks, more out of confusion than anything.
There’s something else in his tone, though. Something Cato can’t place. He shakes his head as he turns to him.
“I’m fine,” Cato states with a glare before pushing past him in the direction of the— his— house.
He’s beginning to lose feeling in his feet, and the chills are starting to get to him. With an exasperated sigh, Gale follows behind.
“You know, you should be lucky Katniss is up right now or else you probably would’ve frozen to death,” he says.
“I would’ve been fine.” Cato scowls.
“Right.” Gale chuckles dryly. “What did you see back there anyway?”
“It was—“ Cato cuts himself off. “Nothing. Why don’t you just go back to being Katniss’s dog and leave me alone.”
“You know, I don’t understand what Katniss sees in you,” Gale speaks bitterly after a moment.
“Right back at you.” Cato rolls his eyes.
He can see his house in the distance and stomps inside. Thankfully, Gale doesn’t follow him. Slamming the door shut behind him, Cato makes his way upstairs to his bedroom where he curls up under the covers for the rest of the night.
He’s not able to sleep, though, after what he‘S seen. And Cato doesn't cry. His face is just red, because it was so cold outside.