Disclaimer: I own nothing!
AN: So, I didn't want a sappy death scene, but it kind of is.. Sorry :/ Also, movie-verse characters, but a movie/book death. :) Thanks.
"Cato!" Clove screamed as Thresh held her against the Cornucopia, "CATO!" She saw the Fire Girl and Thresh's arm swoop towards her, but was distracted by the pain. White hot, blazing pain that makes you want to double-over and hide under a blanket for a few hours. Clove swore she could feel her brain implode against the inside of her skull. Thresh carelessly threw her body on the ground, jarring her throbbing head and making Cove let out a low moan.
She could hear voices, murmurs that she couldn't quite make out. Fire Girl and Thresh. They were mocking her death, Clove knew it. How could she be so weak? She wanted to scream, to hit them, to throw things, but she knew she couldn't do that now. Sponsors could never save her life, so why make a fool of your own death?
She heard the distinct sound of her name, "Clove!" Cato was coming. She knew she would be safe, "Clove!" Clove's head lolled to the side, emanating pain, and she could see Fire Girl and Thresh fleeing the area. She breathed shallowly, trying to get a grip.
Someone knelt beside her, "Clove, listen to me, you have to fight." Her eyes moved, but she didn't dare turn her head. Too much pain to even think about it. She saw Cato, strong and steady. His body gave off that feel right about now, but his eyes were wild with fear and anger.
"I don't want to die," she murmured quietly. Clove was sure Cato couldn't hear her. She didn't want him to. She would seem weak, and Clove never wanted to look inferior in front of him. A small trickle of blood ran out of the corner of her mouth. Cato gently wiped it away, rough hands scratching her cheek. She never thought of Cato as a gentle tried to imagine what she looked like, but could only remember the strong girl she had seen in the mirror the night before the Games began. Where was she now?
"You won't. Stay with me, Clove," Cato said, hands fumbling to do anything to save the girl. "C'mon, you can do this. We were going to win it all. You promised you weren't going to leave me. Remember that?"
Clove's lips quivered. Not in sadness, but in fear. "I was never one to believe in God, Cato, but what if I go to hell?" she asked.
"You're not going anywhere except back to District 2 when we're done here," Cato attempted to apply pressure, but it made Clove cry out in pain, "I'm sorry. I don't know what to do."
"I'm sorry," Clove said to Cato, "Kill The Girl On Fire for me. Make her pay." Clove said, "For me." Her head went to the side, signifying her death, but her eyes didn't shut. It almost seemed like she wasn't dead. Clove's last thought was how beautiful the sun looked when it was white and black mixed together.
"CATO!" Cato's head snapped over to the direction in which the scream came from. Clove. He had heard her the first time, but thought she meant nothing of it. Now, he knew she was about to die. His heart beat a little quicker in his chest. Cato broke into a run when he hit the clearing and saw a limp Clove and a retreating Thresh. He ran to her side, falling to his knees. Cato felt like he was lamenting.
"Stay with me, Clove," Cato pleaded, showing weakness that he thought was silly and uncalled for. The conversation between them was a blur to the blonde boy. He could only stare at his district partner in horror. She couldn't be dying. Clove was the strongest person he knew, second to only himself. How could someone like Thresh kill her? She was amazing, perfect. He would pay.
"For me," Clove hissed, then her head fell to the right. Cato could ever forget which way her head fell. It meant she was dead. He released a growl before he could stop it. All of their plans; gone. Cato slid her eyes shut, bowing his head in defeat. Not his defeat. Never his defeat. He mourned the defeat of Clove. The cannon booming pulled Cato out of his emotional spell. His features hardened. He would be strong for Clove.
Cato stood, immediately deciding to go after Thresh. Thresh had stolen his backpack. No one stole from Cato. He reflected on Clove, and how she too was stolen from him. Cato did not love the dark-haired girl. No, Cato did not believe love existed. Could Cato honestly tell himself that Clove was not special to him? No. He had respected and admired Clove and, in his terms, that was love. He respected her, but also scoffed at her sappy death. What awful last words...for me. Shouldn't the dying girl confess her love, resulting in an angry lover who vows revenge on-
Cato shook his head, clearing his mind. He could not afford to be distracted again. He promised himself at that moment to never think of her again. Cato then thought about how he could kill Fire Girl in cold blood and make it theatrical.
AN: That was horrible to write. Sorry for another death scene fic. I tried to make it different, but whatever. Feedback is appreciated.