Chapter 19, Tactics

❝ we are buried ❞

❝ in broken dreams. ❞

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MY CHEST BUBBLES IN ANGER AT THIS unexpected obstacle, and for the first time, I have no idea what to do next. Cato rests against the cave wall, sweat dripping down his forehead, his teeth audibly grinding against the agonising pain. 

Looking down, I notice the tear Clove's knife has made against the fabric, and, running my fingers delicately over the injury, I sense the beginning of swelling around the cut, blood slightly oozing out.

It's the first time I wish I had paid more attention my mother's craft, when she tended an immeasurable amount of wounds, instead of running off, squeamish at the spread of maroon liquid onto our kitchen table. 

It was ironic, considering how many times my hands had been dripped with other tribute's blood these last few days. All I know is that I should keep the blade jammed into his leg.

I shake my head as I press my palm against his burning skin, knowing I have to inspect his injury as closely as possible and assemble in my head the echos from what I did remember from Prim, or my mother's employment.

I notice Cato's eyes fluttering, threatening to shut, so I shake the weakened boy immediately.

"Can't I sleep?" he asks, wincing.

"Not now. I need to look at your leg first" I mutter, trying to be as gentle as possible as I remove his boots and slowly inch his pants downwards. 

For some reason, the sight of his bare skin leaves me a little flustered, and I hope the obscurity of the cave hides the spread of blush onto my cheeks.

"Jade, I think we're going too fast" he jokes, placing his hand on top of mine.

"Shut up, Cato" I softly say, letting a smile make a subtle and rapid appearance onto my face.

The alternant smell of blood and dirt wafting in the air causes my nose to wrinkle in disgust. I bite the inside of my cheek as I spread some of the remaining of the cream I had been gifted at the beginning of the game around the wound. Yet, I know Cato's cut is far worse, and needs a far more effective cure.

"It's going to be fine. Your injury isn't that bad." I state, attempting to sound as convincing as possible against Cato's suspicious gaze. At the moment, I had no idea how damaging his wound was, and it could affect his future performance.

Instead of directly answering, he lets his hand cup my cheek and lightly brush his finger against my skin.

"How about another kiss?" he asks, a knowing smirk lingering onto his demeanour, despite his ongoing suffering.

Before I can stop myself, I burst out laughing because all of this is so revolting and I can't stand it. 

A new silence reverberates against the walls of the cave and I close my eyes, letting a loud sigh escape my lips. The truth is, I am beyond tired, and the only thing pushing me to continue is the reminder of home.

My entire being is covered in dirt, dried blood and bruises. My thoughts are haunted by my actions in the arena and my dreams primarily consist of Snow's death. I wish for my dagger to implant itself in his heart, and I wish for his eyes to instantaneously loose all their evil.

I want to scream at the cameras, to blame the Capitol for it all, and I would, if my family's life wasn't on the line. But most of all, I just want to fall into a peaceful somber and wake up back home, without any burdens.

I was desperate for it all to come to an end, and soon.

"You're beautiful. Even in this mess, you're beautiful" I hear Cato whisper, and I open my eyes again, to find him peering at me, smiling. The only thing I'm currently thankful for is him. Having him at my side. 

For some reason, he hands me hope, makes me stronger, and keeps me going, distracting me from our cruel situation. Yet, I choose not to let myself get transported by his meaningless compliments, searching to satisfy the Capitol and the viewers.

I feel his fingers tug at my sleeve, inching me closer. Undeniably drawn to him, I begin to lean in until he fills the gap separating us by completely pulling me forward and pressing his lips against  mine. 

This time, the kiss is different. It's slower, and a certain weakness is laced in the movements of our mouths, a hint of desperation glinting in the gesture.

I shudder as the tip of his fingers brush against my neck, and his lips slowly detach themselves from mine.

"It tickles" I say, a soft, innocent grin intertwining with the corners of my mouth. At that, Cato chuckles too, hoisting himself up as I plant a short kiss onto his cheek.

A buzzing makes its way to my ears, and my gaze shifts towards the peculiar sound, announcing something. My eyes land onto the slow arrival of a parachute into the cave. 

I have to prevent myself from squealing and jumping of excitement at the sight of a sponsor. Instead, I run towards the metallic box, hope cursing through my veins. I thrust it open, beyond relieved at the presence of a series of plasters, creams and medicine.

I wave them dramatically in the air, and Cato is now fully grinning at our new supplies. I pull out the note, and my eyebrows quirk up at the unknown initials sitting in the corner of the paper. I recognise Haymitch's name, yet the one following must be Cato's mentor.

HERE IS SOME HELP CONCERNING CATO'S INJURY. REMOVE THE KNIFE, PLACE THE CREAM AROUND IT, THEN ROLL THE PLASTER AROUND IT. 

THERE IS SOME EXTRA MEDICINE FOR THE BOTH OF YOU, WHEN DEALING WITH PAIN. 

WE ARE ALL WAITING FOR MORE KISSES.

BRUTUS P. AND HAYMITCH A.

I read it aloud, processing the information gradually.

"Can't say I don't relate to the last statement" Cato shrugs, a smirk still resting onto his expression. I lightly flick him on the head, then hurry to latch my hands around the necessary equipment to heal his injured, bleeding leg. 

I screw my eyes shut as I prepare to remove the blade from his body.

"Uh Jade, I think I want you to have your eyes open for this" he says anxiously, frowning at the sight of the wound and the knife poking out.

"Right. Okay, on three." I answer.

"One..."

"Two..."

Suddenly, I yank it out of his flesh, and the blade is left scattered on the floor. The sight of the deep cut immediately makes me want to throw up. 

Cato shrieks under the surge of pain, biting down ferociously onto his bottom lip.

"You didn't say three!" he childishly exclaims.

"That's the whole point!" I reply, disgust inking my words.

I don't wait a second more to spread the entirety of the white and smooth cream down onto the wound, and immediately, Cato's moans of relief fill the air.

I roll the plaster around his leg when the cream has dried, specks of blood dotting the fabric, resembling the growth of deadly flower petals.

Cato's changed demeanour tells me how effective the remedy has been, and I hand him a single pill, to shake away the residue of his suffering. He gulps it down in an instant.

I slowly approach the boy's face, a smirk on my lips, then whisper in his ear "See how much our little act can bring us?", tracing my finger along his sharp jawline.

He places his hand against my back, our expressions matching. The next few minutes are followed with the passionate collision of our lips, sparks emerging in my stomach.

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Laying against the chilling ground of the cave, I keep thinking how ignorant the Capitol truly was. Actually believing and rooting for two teenagers to fall in love in the midst of blood and chaos they organised? Believing our thirst for survival could lead to our need for protection?

My feelings for the blond couldn't be real.

Right?

Millions of questions travel the ins and outs of my brain. I've been fierce, merciless at times during the games, killing tributes without blinking. Yet, I've also been damaged, choked by hurt and haunted by fading memories of friends I made, before the world ripped me away from them.

The sound of trumpets startles me, and quickly enough, I'm on my feet, hanging on to every syllable. Cato stays sitting, not having fully yet recovered from the wound. Only four of us remained, and usually, the game makers brought us together by organising baskets and feats of food, as if luring wild, hungry animals.

My expectations are confirmed by the voice of Claudius Templesmith, and I shake my head at his words, having enough food to prevent from an altercation with two ferocious tributes.

"Now hold on. Some of you may already be declining my invitation. But this is no ordinary feast. Each of you need something desperately."

I look down, raking my head at what we could so desperately need. We had been gifted with medicine, and the little amounts of food and water were enough for now. Yet, I think about our weapons. Cato's hand had let go of his shiny sword after Clove's surprise, and how would he able to defend himself without it?

What could I need? I had my weapons secured, I had the supplies I needed. Suddenly, a theory pops into my head. A form of shield could indeed be useful, against Tresh's strength or Clove's aim.

"Each of you will find something in a backpack, marked with your district number, at the Cornucopia at dawn. Think hard about refusing to show up. For some of you, this will be your last chance."

There's nothing else, his words hanging in the air. My mouth stretches into a smile, until Cato's voice interrupts my thoughts.

"You're not going Jade, I don't care if you want to."

"You can't stop me" I reply, stubbornly crossing my arms over my chest.

"Well then I'm coming with you." he says, actually sounding determined. I shake my head at his words, knowing none of his ideas could possibly work.

"With that leg? You'll just end up killing us." I answer, pointing to his plaster.

"Then you won't go. We still have a high chance of winning, with and without extra stuff." he explains, though I notice his eyes diverting to my weapons, acknowledging the absence of his.

"Cato, I'm strong, if not one of the strongest. Do I need to remind you I got the highest score out of all of you? " I state, trying to convince him that letting me leave and fight could only turn out to be beneficial for our survival.

"Can't you blame me for not wanting you to uselessly die?" he snaps back. It angers me that I'm unable to distinguish lies from truth, and right now, I had no idea of he was being honest, or simply going along with our game.

"I won't die. Maybe they will, but I won't. Besides, it's not like you can tell me what to do" I finally say, walking towards Clove's knife, discarded onto the floor. It's lengthy, and extremely sharp, and I wonder if it could have come from a sponsor. It would be symbolic, finishing her with her own weapon, that she tried to use against us.

"I'm not underestimating you Jade, I just- I don't want to end up alone" he whispers, as if humiliated to say the sentence too loudly.

"Cato, I assure you that you won't" I say, trying to sound as convincing as possible. His statement awakens a sensibility in my being, and I know I can relate to his fears.

"Promise?" he asks, peering at me.

"Promise." I articulate, nodding my head simultaneously.

When Cato's asleep, I start to gather my weapons, consisting of Clove's blade and my own, ignoring the lingering of fear swaying in my body. It was undeniable that ending Tresh and Clove wouldn't be easy at all, and I wonder if I'll get out untouched.

𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊

This story is soon coming to an end :(

Please let me know if u have requests or suggestions regarding the following events. Also, I am writing an obx and thirteen fic, check out if interested :) Love and appreciate my readers so much!