Bloody and Broken (Clato)

Chapter Fifteen

    YOOO! What up? It's your friendly neighborhood LightningThief94, bringing some sad, sad news. Okay, y'all, here's the deal: Unfortunately, I won't be able to update as much because of school [insert sigh here] and volleyball (it's practically taking over my life...) SO. The only times I can really update, are on the weekends. Basically what I'm trying to say is, you can expect a weekly update instead of one every two-three days haha. Sowwy :( please accept this life-size cardboard cut-out of Cato as a token of my very sincere apology.

    Something is touching my foot. In response to this very peculiar, very annoy sensation, I groan, turn over on my bed and shake my foot, not really paying much attention to anything except for the fact that, I. Want. More. Sleep. To be honest, I don't even know why I'm extremely tired. Sure, I was feeling a little run-down, yesterday, but I've had plenty of sleep. I should get up, but I don't.

    My muscles groan in protest when I turn back over again. The room feels so hot, yet so cold. I pull my covers tighter around me and finally fall asleep.

  Then, another annoying interruption begins. This time, it's a light shaking feeling. By my shoulders. I growl and open one of my eyes. I can't say I'm actually surprised to see Cato standing over me. But he's got a rather worried look on his face.

    "What? Can't you see I'm trying to sleep?" I hiss, pulling the blankets over my head.

   "Clove, " He says, pulling the covers off me. "It's almost two in the afternoon. And you've got a fever."

    "Yay for me. Now go away." 

    He sighs in frustration, and rakes a hand through his hair before yanking the covers all the way off and throwing them on the floor. He looks almost mad, but then he spots something and his eyes widen considerably. 

    "What?" I demand, pursing my lips.

    Cato gestures to my leg where there is a big, throbbing, red lump on my foot that is oozing some clear fluid. I immediately want to gag, but focus on trying to stay calm. "I have no idea what that is." I say, staring at the lump.

    That must've happened when I felt that weird feeling on my foot. Something must have bitten me. A sneaking suspicion creeps its way into the back of my mind, but I ignore it and hop off my bed, trying to find something to clean the bite with. Not that it'll do any good.

   "Whoa, whoa, whoa. Whoa." Cato remarked. "Where, exactly, do you think you're going? You're like a walking plague. No offense."

    Suddenly, I become aware of how stuffy my nose is, and that I've got a major headache coming on. "To go wash up, stupid." I murmur and continue my way to the bathroom, only to be blocked by that blonde fiend.

   "Yeah, I don't think I should let you out, " He muses, then takes a step back. "I don't want to be, um, infected."

  "Wimp." I mutter and shove past him and walk down the hall, and into the bathroom, quickly shutting and locking the door behind me. I check the little closet for a fresh washcloth and pull one out, then proceed to soak it in the sink.

    After letting it soak for a couple more seconds, I pull the cloth out of the water and squeeze it out, then lift my leg up onto the sink (Don't worry, I didn't let my bite touch the sink...) and press the cloth to the throbbing bump.

    All the moving around and whatnot makes my head start to hurt even worse, but I ignore the pain and continue to add pressure to the bite, which, actually feels pretty good. 

    A few minutes later, someone knocks on the door. Of course, it's Cato. I begrudgingly unlock and open the door to see him standing there with a tray. He's taken the liberty of making me waffles, which are piled high on one of the plates on the tray. He also got me a tall glass of orange juice, and the only thing left on the plate, is a small container of pain reliever pills.

    "You need your rest, Clover. You should really be back in your room." He states, looking slightly worried.

    I nod and tell him that I'll be out soon, then close the door and wash up. 

    Approximately two minutes later, I'm back in my bed drinking orange juice while Cato sits across the room in one of the chairs asking me every few seconds if I need anything else. Repeatedly, I tell him "No", but apparently he thinks I'm lying because he just shakes his head and sighs as if it's his fault I'm sick.

    "I told you, " I press, "I'm fine. Really, you can just go train or whatever. I can take care of myself, Cato."

    "Yeah, but what if you need me to adjust the ice pack on your foot?" He counters.

    I fold my arms and huff. "I have arms, and hands, Blondie. I'm pretty sure I can fix it if I need to."

   Cato sighs then tells me that he's going to go train and that he'll be back in exactly two hours, four minutes, and thirty-two seconds. 

    After he leaves, I suddenly feel slightly, very, very slightly...sad. Yeah, do me a favor and don't ask me why I feel like this, because, I honestly don't know why either. I suppose it's just because I may have been slightly touched by the fact that Cato wants to help me.

    Of course, it could just be my fever making my thoughts go all insane and whatnot. 

    ~&^&~

  When Cato comes back, I am sitting downstairs on the couch sipping hot tea while my leg is propped up on a pillow with an ice pack. He looks rather distraught, and instead of wearing his regular training uniform, he's wearing blue jeans and a white v-neck. "You trained in that?" I ask, quirking an eyebrow.

   He looks at me after putting his shoes away. Slightly visible dark circles are under his eyes and his hair is separated different ways as if he's been pulling at it. "Yeah...rough day."

    "Oh? How so?"

    Before replying, he sighs and runs a hand through his hair which has become a regular habit of his. "Just...stuff."

    "What kind of stuff?"

    Cato shrugs. "Morons...fangirls...the usual."

    "Mmm...okay." I nod, raising my eyebrows.

    He furrows his brow. "What, you don't believe me?"

    "No, not really." I reply, pursing my lips.

    Cato merely shrugs then heads upstairs, his feet practically dragging. I hear a door close and the shower turn on. His mood has changed quite drastically in the time he was gone, which makes me wonder what actually happened.

    A/N: AUUUGGHHH I absolutely despise this chapter. I have writer's block, in case y'all haven't guessed already. That, and, umm...I've had my nose stuck in the Percy Jackson books. Heh. OKAY, so I know this particular chapter isn't promising. It stinks like turd, I know. But don't worry, I needed to write this one, because, the next chapter is going to explain a little more on what exactly happened to Cato during his trip "training". Kay? Kay.