A scream of horror immediately left your lips the moment you saw Cato on the ground, his chest and face smeared with blood, and you shot an arrow at the final mutt at the same time Peeta threw his knife at its throat. You watched as the mutt writhed around for a moment, its eyes wild and unfocused, before it collapsed onto the ground, no longer moving. For a moment, you were relieved, before your eyes landed back on Cato, who was still struggling to breathe, his chest barely rising and lowering with each painful breath he took.

"Cato!" you cried, sliding down the edge of the Cornucopia and running over to him, kneeling by his side as you cupped a hand to his bloody cheek. 

Cato looked like he was going to cry the moment he saw you. "(Y-Y-Y/N)..." he sobbed, taking strangled gasping breaths. 

"Shh. Cato. I'm here. It's okay," you murmured, stroking his cheek with your thumb. 

Cato's eyes were wide with guilt as he uncovered the wound on his chest. "She got me good. Clove, I mean."

"Clove?!" you cried, taking a look at the wound. It didn't look like much on the surface, but who knew what damage could have laid inside. The mutts' claws were really sharp, anyway, and with Clove's, hers looked like a knife. They could have punctured something important--his heart, his lungs... "But why would she--"

"I would never know," Cato chuckled weakly, lifting a hand to trap your hand on his cheek. "D-don't go," he begged now, his grip on your hand growing tighter.

You shook your head. "I won't be going anywhere," you whispered, feeling the air shift beside you slightly as Peeta knelt beside you, his eyes filled with worry and sadness, opting to stay quiet. Silence ensued for a bit before Cato opened his mouth and gave you his final requests.

"Listen, (Y/N). When you get out of here, don't...don't forget me," Cato whispered. "Keep the sweater with you. I...I'm glad to have known you, (Y/N)."

You nodded and smiled at him, your other hand now reaching into your pocket for the watch your mom sent. "You gave me something to remember you by. So I'll do the same for you." With that, you produced your watch and pressed it into Cato's other hand. "It was my father's. Even though it stopped working...it's the usefulness in its lifetime that counted. And you've done a lot for me, for Peeta...we'll make your death count."

Cato chuckled weakly and pocketed the watch. "Surely they'll know to bury it with me in the grave, if they ever could."

You nodded. "My mom will kill me, but she'll know it's for the best."

Cato nodded. "(Y/N), this might sound stupid but...can I kiss you?"

Stunned at the request, you glanced first at Peeta, who only nodded in assent. He knew how much Cato loved you, and throughout the games, though he was jealous of what you might have had with Cato, he couldn't stop him from fulfilling his final wish.

"Yeah," you murmured, wiping off as much blood as you could before you leaned in and softly planted your lips on Cato's. Peeta was wise enough to turn away, and you brought a hand around Cato's head now, as he gently reciprocated the kiss, his eyes slipping shut from exhaustion and lack of blood. The kiss was short, and soon you let go before Cato ran out of oxygen completely, just enough to see Cato's eyes shine with tears. 

"I...I loved you, (Y/N)," Cato whispered. "But you deserve Peeta. So I'm letting you go." Then he turned to Peeta. "Keep her close. You'll never know if you'll ever find another girl like her."

Peeta nodded as he reached for Cato's other hand. "I will. I promise."

Cato nodded as his eyes slid shut again. "Thank you," he whispered, his breathing growing shallower until it stopped altogether, just a few moments later.

For the final time in the Games, the cannon boomed in the sky, and Cato's grip on both yours and Peeta's hands went slack. Hesitantly, you dropped Cato's cold hand and turned to Peeta, who nodded as the both of you straightened up and glanced down at Cato's death-like, peaceful form. For the second time, you really felt like yelling at the Capitol for doing something cruel to children in innocent districts, especially to someone who knew that they can't just fight for the Capitol's entertainment. A ball of anger started forming in your throat again, the same way it had when you were looking at Rue and Marvel in the same position, just a few days ago, as well as the girl from District 8 in the beginning, and now seeing one of the greatest fighters in this position...

"It's okay, (Y/N)," Peeta murmured, gently gripping your arm and pulling you away, and you nodded as you put your arms around Peeta, silently crying into his shoulder again, remembering how Cato did this to you in the beginning. You felt Peeta wrap his arms around you again, his steady warmth enveloping you into realizing that at least the boy you loved is still alive, and soon the night turned into day and the hovercraft finally came along, picking Cato's body up and carrying it away from the arena. 

"I know he did it for us," you whispered. "He deserves to be remembered."

Peeta nodded. "That's it." He then wiped your tears away with his sleeve and looked into your eyes. "He will be remembered. After all, he was the final soldier to pass."

"Yeah. A good soldier through and through," you murmured. Then you glanced around at the arena, surprised that the Gamemakers haven't announced you and Peeta as victors yet. "Hey, what's going on?"

"I don't know," Peeta answered, letting go of you briefly to face the sky. "HEY! WHAT'S THE HOLD UP?" he cried, which made you laugh. 

"YEAH!" you added. "GET US OUT OF HERE!"

Before you could say another word, the voice of Claudius Templesmith rang through the arena once more. 

"Attention, attention tributes. There has been a slight...rule change."

Immediately sensing the hesitation in his voice, you pulled out an arrow and strung it, ready to let it fly, but Templesmith wasn't done just yet. 

"The previous revision, allowing for two victors from the same district, has been...revoked. Only one victor may be crowned. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favour."

A final burst of static followed, and there was nothing more. 

Instantly, a new wave of panic rushed into your body as the words sank in. The Gamemakers have never allowed for two victors all along. They wanted to see two final tributes from the same district fight to the death now, that there's no way both of them would make it. Was Cato's death for nothing, then? You recalled his final death wish and turned to Peeta, who just looked at you sadly. 

"Go ahead," he said. "Shoot. Go for it."

"No." You looked at him in the eye and dropped your bow. "I can't. You have Katniss at home. Obviously she'll mean a lot more to you. You have a crush on her!"

"What did I tell you, (Y/N)? It's not her I love," Peeta begged. "It's you, (Y/N)."

"It doesn't matter," you spat back. "One of us should go home, they have to have their victor. And it should be you."

Peeta shook his head in refusal. "What about your mom, then? She'll be left alone to the world."

Once again, you were both stuck at a stalemate. "Peeta...you meant the world to me since...we became friends at a young age," you confessed, approaching him. "I love you, I really do, but honestly, if one of us should go home, it's you."

"No. You deserve to go home and live with your mom. I'm not going to stop you," Peeta said. 

Suddenly, another thought crossed your mind. "Or maybe..."

"Maybe...?" Peeta asked, raising an eyebrow. 

In response, you pulled out the pouch of poisonous nightlock berries you still had from that incident with Foxface. 

"They don't need to have a victor," you murmured. "Why should they?"

The moment the berries were pulled out of your pocket, Peeta's eyes widened. "No! No, (Y/N), please, don't!"

You shook your head, however, knowing that this would probably be the best time to show the Capitol just how weak they truly are. Without their victor, they would forever be defeated. They would be regarded as a complete farce to the districts, giving them another chance to fight together against them instead of against each other. Not for the first time, Cato's words finally made sense to you. And this, this has to be the best way to honour Cato's dying wish. 

"Trust me," you whispered now, stopping his hand as you poured some of the berries into his palm. "Trust me."

In that moment, you knew that the entire nation is watching you and Peeta. Your mom, probably at home alone or with Delly and the Everdeen family and the Mellark family, watching the screen for the final moment and act of defiance, will have her eyes stuck on you, her only daughter, her only family. The Capitol will be watching, seeing which one of the both of you would end up alive. Haymitch will be watching to see what you two would do. The Gamemakers would be watching, finally realizing for the first time their moment of weakness. Everyone will be watching with baited breath.

And this is what you want, is it? All those deaths...they have to mean something. If they end up with no victor, then they'll have to step down and admit that what they did was wrong, was completely inhumane. All you hoped for was that the message would be passed across. 

"Together?" you whispered to him now, eyes flickering from the berries in your hands to his eyes, his blond hair that you have been so used to seeing.

Peeta nodded as he cupped his free hand to your cheek and gave you a final kiss on the cheek. "Together," he agreed in a whisper. Then you both took each other's hands and stood, back to back, holding the berries out for everyone to see. You squeezed Peeta's hand once more, as a goodbye, and then you began to count. 

"One," you said, your heart beating hard against your chest. 

"Two," you heard Peeta say behind you, his grip on your hand tightening as he laced his fingers with yours. How much you would miss that once you get to your grave, once all life is gone.

"Three," you finally said, rising the berries to your lips...

"STOP! STOP!"

Both you and Peeta dropped your hands now, the berries spilling onto the ground as you glanced up at the sky, at the sound of Claudius Templesmith's voice.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, his voice still laced with shock. "May I present to you, the winners of the 74th annual Hunger Games, (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Peeta Mellark! I give you, the tributes of District 12!"