He tries to grab on to the Cornucopia. To Fire Girl, Peeta, anything, anybody. But it is no use. He felt himself falling and then the hard impact of the ground. Is he going to die? Right here? Right now? Like this?

No. Cato forces himself to stand and face the Mutts. No he is still going to win this thing. He is going to win this thing for himself, for his district, and for Clove. Fire Girl and her lover can cower atop the Cornucopia but they aren't going to stay there for long. He is going to pull them off if it is the last thing he did. He will kill all the Mutts and then the last two tributes from number Twelve.

He raises his sword. All around him growls sound. The Mutts aren't waiting. They attack full force. He slashes and stabs. He hears several whimpers but does not stop to see if he killed any. His brain is working on autopilot. He is a machine. This is what he trained for his whole life. He will win.

A couple of the Mutts retreat. He can feel their number slackening. But then two Mutts lunge for him. He manages to slit the throat of the one. But the other topples him. He loses his sword. The Mutt tries to bite his leg.

Thank god for the armor, Cato thinks in a haze groping for his sword. The Mutt lunges again this time for his unguarded face. Cato brings the sword slashing upwards grazing the Mutt's stomach. But it is too late. Cato's cheek screams in pain. Something thick and red obscures his vision in his right eye. Whether it's his blood or the Mutt's he doesn't know.

The Mutt still hasn't given up. It is back for a third attack. Cato wipes the blood away from his eye and immediately wishes he hadn't because he is now staring up into a hauntingly familiar face.

He remembers what Fire Girl had said. Its them.

What hadn't made sense to him then now hit him with full force.

The mutts are the other tributes.

Why hadn't he seen it before? The red-haired one who was supposed to be that District Five girl or the blonde one that was now so obviously Glimmer. The big black one was Thresh and there was that District Three boy, the bomber.

But as he stares up into the face of his attacker Cato forgets about the other Mutts. He forgets about the razor sharp claws that are trying to dig into his armor. He forgets the snarling lip and pointed teeth.

Cato forgets it all because he knows his attacker all too well.

It is Clove.

Cato stares horrified into Cloves stormy eyes. He is positive it is her. He knows that hair. He knows those eyes. But last time he saw those eyes, they were in Clove's beautiful face. Dull, without life, staring blankly into space as he cried over her broken body. He could never forget those eyes and now staring into the Mutt's eyes, Cato knows that they are the same eyes.

Cato wants to look away from the Mutt but can't. He is entranced, memorized by Clove's eyes.

Can it really be her?

Did the Gamemakers really bring her back as this thing?

The thought appalled him. Clove, beautiful, ruthless, Clove reduced to this rabid thing.

She tries to bit him again. He raised his sword to stab her in the chest but at the last minute he cannot. He can't kill her even now she is just some Capitol creation. He can't lose her again. Cato summons all his strength and pushes her away. Scrambling to his feet he runs for the side to the Cornucopia. A swarm of Mutts descend upon him. Cato jumps trying to get back to the top of the Cornucopia. The only place he will be safe.

From the Mutts at least. He doesn't even think about Fire Girl and Peeta safely huddled on top or what threat they might pose.

But it doesn't matter. Cato cannot get a firm grim and is at last forced to turn back to the mutts. His face is bleeding and he can feel a hole in his armor somewhere around his stomach, though how it got there he doesn't know.

For the first time, Cato realizes the truth. He can't win. He is going to die. There are too many Mutts and he is already wounded. It is hopeless. Fire Girl and Peeta will win. Win what was supposed to be his. His and Clove's.

The thought angers him giving him extra energy when the Mutts attack. Cato raises his sword and cuts the first Mutt mid-lunge. But second slips through his guard and then the third. Seeing Clove has seriously unhinged him and his epiphany has left him dazed. A fourth Mutt snaps at his arm. The fifth is Clove. Her eyes sear into him with absolute hatred.

Does she hate him for surviving?

For being in the last three?

For not saving her?

I tried, Cato thinks desperately. I never wanted you to leave me. We were supposed to finish this thing together.

Clove snarls and lunges at him, ripping into the hole in his stomach. Instinctively he slices her across the back. She whimpers and retreats. Did he kill her?

I'm sorry Clove, Cato thinks. I'm sorry you died. I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you like I promised. But I killed him for you, Clove. You have to know, I killed Thresh for you.

Another wave of Mutts attack him. Blindly he swings his sword but the blade does not seem to touch the creatures. They do not back down. Cato falls. The pain is overwhelming. The Mutts engulf him in a swarm and he no longer has the strength to fight back. Blood spatters everywhere. He sees the number 2 flash from one of the collars. Clove is alive, somewhat, and she is back, leading the pack.

Blackness begins to edge out his vision.

And the last thing he sees is Cloves sparking eyes.

He can no longer see well enough to see anything else.

Just her eyes.

He imagines Clove standing there, looking down at him. Whole and human. Her dark hair falling in to her face. She'd push it back behind her ear and smile her beautiful smile.

It was supposed to be us, Cato thinks. You and me, Clove.

And then everything goes black.