The 'bow' in Rainbow

*CATO'S POV. Realising the other isn't so bad, Clove and Cato begin to discover maybe they're both tired of being so alone.

Cato's heart plummeted faster than Clove as he watched her fall for what seemed like an age. He heard her thump on the hard floor below as it echoed around the hall. Cato watched her desperately for some sign of movement; her black hair was splayed around her head like a dark halo. 

 

Cato was anxious, it had definitely been his fault she'd fallen, and just as he'd spoken to her for the first time...

 

Leaving his sword, Cato left the balcony as fast as he could and thundered downstairs into the training hall. Screwing up all his courage as she lay there like a broken doll, Cato hurried over and knelt down beside her. 

 

Gently, he pushed her hair out of her eyes and searched her face for any live activity. Yet her eye lids stayed shut, and Cato watched her beautiful sad face remain ever still. 

Having been taught so much about how to kill, Cato had never really learnt how to check someone was alive and bring them back round. He vaguely remembered Loson checking the pulse of an out-cold trainee one time, so Cato mimicked him now, and a wave of relief came over him as under her wrist, her pulse beat away. 

 

Carefully, he scooped her up and Clove being generally small and Cato rather muscular, he could easily carry her out of the training centre and into the pitch night of District 2. Cato was clueless about what to do next, and figured he should wait until she woke up, and he planned to be there when she did. 

 

***

 

Next morning, Cato was awoken by birds noisily twittering away, and he lifted his head off of his arms, yawning. 

 

It took a moment to remember why he was sleeping hunched over the desk in his room and Cato whipped around to find Clove Mortalen, still unconscious, messily wrapped in blankets on his bed. Cato smiled at her small sleeping frame. She looked so angelic when she was knocked out. It was nice, seeming as when she was active and awake, all Cato had seen Clove do was give murderous stares to everyone she saw and fling her deadly knives at targets, hitting the bulls-eye every time. 

 

Cato was brought back to reality by the low drone of voices downstairs. His parents of course, were up and about. He had been mightily lucky nobody checked on him during the night. If Mr or Mrs Fort had seen Clove sleeping in Cato's bed, he would be ultimately disowned, as a relationship with other trainees was strongly dis-advised. 

Just as he thought this, he heard the staircase creak and the voices getting far too loud for Cato's liking. 

 

In lightening speed, Cato's launched himself over his bed and hastily covered Clove's face with the top of the quilt. And just in time he lodged his foot in front of the door as his parents tried to open it. 

 

"Cato? Cato? Are you awake? Your door is jammed." His mother's voice came slightly muffled through the door. 

"Let me look at it. Hold on. And stay right there." Releasing his foot from the door with baited breath, Cato picked up Clove and all of his blankets in one lift and carried them over to the wardrobe. He placed her and her cocoon of quilts safely inside and shut the door, bolting it. 

 

Looking back at the wardrobe with what Cato assumed was guilt (he'd rarely experienced the feeling), he opened his door.

 

"Cato! Are those your training clothes? Did you sleep in them? That'll never do, what will Loson think?" 

Cato tried to tune out his mother's voice, as he did mostly every time she spoke. Her lectures were boring and if Cato listened he'd get irritated as he could very quickly. Mr Fort was a quiet man, who had no family other than Cato, Mrs Fort and Mrs Fort's relatives. 

"... oh my, you should have been there this morning, Cato, I thought it rather good riddance those Mortalen's had something taken away from them. And if it's there unpleasant daughter with the knives, then so be it!" 

Cato, who had been watching the wardrobe out of the corner of his eye, suddenly paid his full attention to his mother for the first in a very long time. 

"What did you say?" Cato said sharply, cutting across her. 

Mrs Fort looked up at Cato, "The Mortalen's daughter hasn't been seen since yesterday. You probably have seen the girl, long black hair, like a filthy coal miner, she carries around several knives handy with her."

Cato tried to look as though this was news, "How did you hear about it?"

"They were at the market this morning, asking people if they'd seen her. Looking incredibly desperate if I say so myself."

"They're looking for their only child. How can you call that desperate?" Cato said, disgusted. 

Mrs Fort frowned. "I think you better go out and get some fresh air, Cato. You're looking awfully tense." 

With that, she walked out, followed by Mr Fort, who still said nothing. 

 

Cato kicked the door shut behind them, angry at his mother's arrogance. Accompanied with the slam of the door, there was a shuffle from the wardrobe. All thoughts of Mrs Fort gone, Cato leaped over to the wardrobe and unbolted it. 

He unravelled the many blankets and gently pulled Clove out of the wardrobe and onto his lap so her head was rested. She was finally stirring, and with one last groan, those electric blue eyes Cato had become so fond of shot open. 

 

Clove looked directly into Cato's eyes for two long seconds, but it didn't take long for her to gather her thoughts. She opened her mouth to draw breath and, sensing the danger, Cato slammed his hand over her jaw to stop the scream. 

 

She screamed anyway, the sound just muffled by Cato's strong hand. Clove was struggling furiously to get free from his grip, her eyes darting around manically. Cato locked his free arm securely around her, so she couldn't get up and after five minutes of attempts to get away, it seemed the pain that hadn't left her finally got to Clove. She stopped screaming and drew large steadying breaths, her eyes not leaving Cato's, the mark of a great killer. Cato, feeling it safe for him to remove his hand from her mouth, wrapped a second arm around her. 

With the absence of the blankets, Clove began shivering and Cato hugged her to his chest. After a while she stopped trembling and after a weak attempt at escaping, gave up and relaxed onto him. 

 

Cato did not know how long they sat there for, only that to him, it felt perfectly right, and he made himself let go of all his District 2 morals, which right now seemed so idiotic and unimportant. The only thing that was important to Cato right then as they sat there, was the girl locked in his arms. 

 

After a very long silence, Clove cleared her throat and said into his chest, "Why are you doing this?"

Cato thought about it for a while, the same question had been nagging at him. 

Then he answered, "I really have no idea." And he craned his neck round to see her face, and saw that Clove had fallen asleep, safe with him. 

 

And it made Cato smile to himself as he realised, he was safe with her. 

 

Author's Note

So there's the first bit of Clato fluff at the end there!
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