A/N: Huzzah update! It's been a couple of days, I think a reasonable amount of time, right? This chapter is about half the length of the previous. It'll probably be this way from now on. Last chapter was full of backstory, which was much needed, and I apologize if you are disappointed with this D:

Next chapter should be better. I needed to further Peeta's lows to quietly strengthen him a bit. The letter may seem like a bad omen but it'll only make him grow as a person.

I was wondering how you guys felt about my HG dream Peeta had experienced last chapter. I wanted to tie in the series, sorta, in a weird way. Idk. I thought it was neat. It's how this chapter will start, if that's okay. I probably won't do it again for awhile unless you guys appreciate it :p Enjoy!

Shoutouts!:

LabRat3000: That is so flattering! And I'd probably agree to it as long as you'd place me in a room full of Cheez-its, apple juice and good music.

FA2015: Ugh it's such a good show. You should watch it. Well, no you shouldn't. Cause then you wouldn't read this. Comically serious, I like it. Thank you! This chapter is more on the serious side, I hope you still enjoy it :)

Guest 1: Thank you! This may be going too deep into it but I felt like Cato wouldn't be as ruthless a person if there were no HG to train for. If that makes sense. I always saw him as a sweet guy. Clove... not so much.

Cray-Cray: Haha! You love the word cray-cray don't you? Don't worry Marvel will make his appearance some time soon... In this chapter maybe? You'll have to read to find out :p

Kurskin: Don't worry, I feel your appreciation, no words needed :D too nice of you. I hope it didn't take too long to update :(

Beau-t-ful: Thanks for appreciating the detail! I love those crazy long fics as well. And yes! You got it! It was Peeta's first time so of course he's gonna be a little awkward about it, yknow? I hope to not disappoint!

Bonds of Light: Thank you so much. Ahhhhh!

Guest 2: Thanks for that. I've decided the upcoming chapters won't be as long, if that suits your fancy :)

Guest RR: Ty tytytytytyytyyytyty! Being a HS AU I just don't feel like many people beat their kids now a day, I mean, I know a few friends have gone through it. But this is an AU, and with Peeta being her only child, I feel like she would at least pretend to like him. She does like him, though. And about the letter – good! :D

Harshy: I totally understand. I'm really worried about it all, too. Do you watch? It's a great show, that's a fact. I just hope I can get the results I want to get, but I gotta make my own means :/ Gonna be rough.

Raven Knightly: Thank you! As Keira would say, "You better fucking love me!"

Random Heart: Haha thanks! I thought so too ;) I'd probably like this so much more if it weren't me writing it!

YA77 and Fadi: You fools already know whassup ;) Love ya guys! Thank you for the constant support! (And readers, go check out their works if you haven't. They're fucking phenomenal!)

Chapter Two: "This year wouldn't be like anything I had expected."

The repetitive sound of metal crashing together forces me to my senses. Where's that coming from...? And how have I survived this long? Oh, right. Cato. Always the answer to my many questions. He's been protecting me for days now. I look up from the ground to spot him, deflecting knives, by none other than Clove, with his sword. Masterfully. The way he moves with that weapon could be considered an exotic dance in most countries.

For the (what feels like) millionth and last time, I push myself off the ironically fertile ground, stumbling to my feet. Cato hasn't noticed my awakened-self yet, as he jabs and slashes at Clove, barely missing each time. She's told me she despises her small, underdeveloped frame before. She's probably taken that back now. Well, who knows, actually. She might prefer death over below average-sized boobs. Unconsciously insulting her psyche I pay attention again to her battle with Cato. Seems like she wants to win, the way she throws those knives with such poise. Or maybe she just wants to kill Cato for him choosing me over her.

Either way, bitch's gotta die.

I take in a deep breath before making my way to the battle, about 20 or so feet away. I see both of them – Clove's right side, and Cato's left facing me, spread out like a beautiful horizon before my eyes. They're both handling themselves extremely well. It's no wonder they both received 10s as training scores. A measly 8 doesn't deserve to win. But I'll help him win, though. I'll do anything in my power.

Last four.

The fourth and final tribute decides to make an appearance – and not one filled with smiles and unicorns. He's rushing with a machete, in a bee-line towards someone else, totally ignoring me. My eyes follow his projected path. Of course – he's going for the deadliest tribute while he's preoccupied. Fuck that if I'm gonna let it happen.

Forgetting about the pain in my leg until sprinting off, I run faster than I ever have before. This is it, I have to put everything I have into this one moment. Two seconds of stalling could mean life or death for Cato. Thresh finally catches my gaze, and accepts that his attack on Cato will be prolonged for another few moments. He cancels his advance, turns to me and simply struts, grinning maniacally. He knows the outcome of this fight.

And so do I.

I crash into him, almost expecting my body to bounce off of his monstrous form effortlessly, only to find ourselves on the ground, rolling around for dominance, mud flinging onto our faces. We squirm for a few seconds, before I manage to sit on top of him, attempting to strangle the life out of him, to set his soul free. His grin only grows wider. What's there to be so happy about? I've got him in a stranglehold. I hear the boom of a cannon, hoping that Cato has won and will join me soon. Unfortunately that doesn't happen.

I feel a foot of rusty metal find its way into my stomach. Oh. I'd smile about that, too. I collapse onto the ground, like I always seem to do, clutching my torso. I catch sight of Cato's darling face, covered in blood, as he falls to his knees, dropping his sword. He's all right, just a little shocked. I see his jaw unhinge, hearing him call out my name in deep sorrow, tears gathering in his penny-colored marbles.

I keep his gaze as long as I can. I want the last thing I see to be that being of a perfect creation. Get up, Cato. Pick up your sword, I think to myself, hoping my thoughts will find themselves amongst his. It's time... for you... to go home...

I'm instantly blinded as my eyes slowly open. I scan my surroundings. White. Why is there so much white? IV's invade my arms. I go to pull them out, foolishly, as I find I can't move my right branch of bone, muscle and skin. It's hung up in a cast at a 90 degree angle. Just, fucking, great.

And I need to stop having these fucking dreams. Psychopath.

The memories come flying at a break-neck speed. The letter. The pills. The fall. For a second there I thought my dream to be a reality, and I've ascended to the pearly-white gates of heaven.

I'm not that fortunate, though.

My dad, who I just now notice, sees me struggling. He looks like complete shit: puffy red eyes, 5 o'clock shadow, short and messy dirty-blond hair, much like mine. He pulls his chair closer to my bed, cupping my face with his hands before seeing me wince in pain, then grabs my free hand.

"Peeta," he lets out simply.

"Hey, dad," I whisper. My voice is still harsh from the lack of use for... how long? I didn't know. "How long have I been out?" I wondered out loud.

"Three days, five hours. I haven't left your side," he says, gripping my hand even harder.

"Yeah, I can tell. You need a shower." I regret saying it, he probably won't be amused by my childish humor after being stuck in this dull room for ages.

He chuckles, rubbing a thumb over the top of my hand. "You do, too, kiddo."

"I love you, dad." I don't say it enough, and he needs to hear it, especially now, because I almost lost the privilege to ever say it again, and it's the complete truth. "More than you know."

"I know you do," he smiles. His next question is the one I've been dreading to hear since my awakening. "Why'd you do it? Why'd you try to? If you just told me what was going on in your life, I could have..." He begins to sob. I hope he doesn't think he's failed me as a father. He's been phenomenal throughout my entire existence, being a friend, but also a firm hand when I needed one.

"Dad, please... don't. You're gonna get me going, and no one wants to see two men crying together. It's just plain weird." My humor is unrelenting.

He wipes his eyes, letting out a smile for what I imagine to be the first time in 77 hours. "You, a man? Don't make me laugh." Only, that makes us both laugh. So that's where I get my humor from. I stop once I find myself in pain, again.

"Dad, I didn't-" I start, only to be cut off by the swinging open of my door, my mom finding her way in, wearing a bejeweled red top, and skinny blue jeans hugging her legs, her dark brown hair seeming to be even wavier than what I remember. She looks delighted, and pained, to see me awake.

"Looking for a date, mom?" Her appearance sets me off. Why couldn't she be a parent every once in a while? Again, I find myself immensely glad I've grown to be more like my paternal parental, as opposed to the other one.

"Oh, sweety," she begins. She finds herself by my side. "My little man, I was so worried about you." Her tone's sincere enough. I'll let her slide for today.

"Thanks, mom. But I'm okay now, apart from a few whacky dreams. Seriously, I think the statement you made about me being a serial killer could be oddly accurate." Obviously not seriously, but I'd like to cheer her up if possible. She's not all that bad. She begins to sob. Well, that backfired. She gets up from her chair and walks to the corner of the room, not facing me.

"I knew I shouldn't have done that... I knew it. So stupid, so fucking stupid," she says to herself, her sobs growing in intensity as she covers her face with recently pedicured nails. The silver stars covering them are quite nice, I have to say.

"What? What are you talking about?" I ask her. What is she thinking?

No. Stars. The letter. She couldn't have. Actually, she could have. But would she? A Friend. She's more of a friend than anything to me.

This isn't happening. This can't be fucking happening.

As I feel water begin to form in my own eyes again, she turns to me, wiping the tears from her face, thinking a moment before speaking. "I... I shouldn't have forced you to go to that camp," she gets out, crying harder. "You obviously hated it. I thought you might have, but I thought... I don't know what I thought. You hated it, though. Something must have happened there, so you tried ending-"

"Mom." I cut her off. "Don't." I didn't want to hear the rest of that sentence. My voice is steady now. "I didn't hate the camp. I actually found it enjoyable," I reassure her. She smiles. "Thank you," I say softly. She rushes back to my side, hugging me just as softly as I had spoken. It wasn't a half-assed hug, either, like the ones you get when you first meet someone. It was filled with love. I hug her back – well, attempt to, with my one arm. She kisses the top of my head, pets it, and returns to her chair, folding her hands into her lap.

"I didn't try to kill myself," I say bluntly. How else was I supposed to say it? Via clown telegram? It's better to be straight-forward at a time like this.

"Then... What happened?" my dad asks. I can tell how confused he is, and how much he cares.

"I was going through my mail... About seven envelopes in I found a... strange one." It was hard to go through that all again. "It had no return address. I opened it, after getting ready for my bath. It stated that as I was now, I could disappear... and no one would notice." I could never forget those words. They burned me, they burned my everything – I was a recently branded farm animal, branded with the word "invisible," like I had often imagined myself to be.

My parents looked to each other, stunned. My mom looked back to me before taking a hold of my hand again. My dad turned his head toward me, grabbed his chin, and rubbed at his stubble desperately before speaking. "I'm so sorry, son." He turned back to my mom. "Lily, did you know about this?"

Huh. I was wondering the same thing.

"No, of course not," she replied, defensively. "I don't go through Peeta's mail, George. You think I'd allow him to read that?" My dad shook his head before propping his elbows onto his thighs, holding his head in his hands. Still shaking his head.

"I didn't try to kill myself, though," I stated again.

"Of course not, sweety," my mom patted my hand. My dad held up his head and followed through, "We all go through these sorts of things, son. It's okay to feel down but what you did-"

"I didn't try to kill myself! I had a headache! I choked on two pills!" I let out in a rage. They still looked at me, unconvinced. "Why don't you believe me?" I began to sob, but I tried to fight it back, tried to be strong, tried to show them I wouldn't do something so stupid and irrational.

"It's okay, Peeta, it's okay... We believe you," my dad reassured me.

"Good," I said, wiping my eyes. I was pissed off again. "Would you guys mind leaving me for a second? I need some time alone." This sterile room alone was suffocating enough, not to mention two over-bearing parents touching me and crying non-stop. I grew sick of this real quick.

"Sure, honey," my mom said softly. She kissed the top of my head again before heading out. My dad placed a kiss on my forehead before following her.

"Phew," I let out a sigh. Not only had I missed the first day of school, which was suicidal enough, I had to deal with an actual "suicide attempt." That last day of camp couldn't have gone any better, though. Thinking back on it, was it all a dream? The best dream I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing? I strain my neck, which had been wrapped in a cast, as well, forcing myself to gaze upon the right side of my body, begging for the truth. My eyes met the skin protecting my collarbone. The pain was unbearable, but it was more than worth it. There it was, the fading bruise from from just a few days ago. A smile graced my face.

"Cato..." I wondered out loud, smile growing wider. I could have been the Cheshire Cat's twin brother at this rate. How could anyone kill themselves after a session like that? But of course, no one knew about it, other than the two sinners...

And Keira! Keira, that loveable nut. She would believe me above anyone else. I wondered if she, and Yoko, for that matter, had visited me at any time. I look to my left, where deflating balloons hovered in mid-air, occasionally rubbing up against a plethora of flowers and get-well cards. I grabbed one, the most seemingly plain one, with a simple "Get Well, Soon" on the front. What was on the inside would vastly differ from its appearance.

Peeta! You fucking asshole! Only need a single guess to figure that one out. What the hell did you do that for? We're supposed to grow old together! Hold an orgy of 69 people on my 69th birthday! I am going to find out who wrote this carefrontation letter if it's the last thing I do. -KK 33

"Carefrontation letter"? Accurate, I suppose. I know Keira would never write something like that. How did she know about it? My parents must have, too, then. They knew what I read all through this morning, feigning ignorance. I guess they weren't comfortable with the situation.

The card had some writing left.

Peeta... I can't begin to imagine what you've just been through. Yoko was one of the sweetest girls I've ever met. I wish you would have at least called me, or Keira, before doing... that... She wasn't one to talk much, or talk about sensitive subjects. She was your average high school student. I haven't seen you in two months! Besides right now, your unconscious self just chilling there, all creepily. Lol. I smiled. I missed you. I hope you're okay. Come back to us! :) Yoko-bono

Thanks, Yoko. I loved our little nickname for her. We both had a strange love for The Beatles, Keira occasionally making fun of us for it. She was more Lady Gaga, modern-shit oriented. We didn't mind.

I'm glad they came, even if I didn't get see them. I laid my head back onto my pillow and closed my eyes. I wish I could talk to them right now – Keira, undoubtedly saying something outrageous, forcing me to laugh my guts out; Yoko holding my hand, and push the sides of her eye sockets inward, to make it look like she had round eyes, making me die even further. I was about to call in my parents to phone the two of them before my wooded door swung open again, causing my eyes to pop out of my skull. I hadn't expected to see the person who stood before me, holding a bundle of sunflowers, my favorite kind of flower.

"Cato." I rose up from my bed as far as I could to make it seem like I wasn't, in fact, sitting in a hospital bed, plastic sticking out of my skin, with half of my body covered in plaster. I must have been a sight for sore eyes.

"Hey, you," he smiled not only with his mouth, but with his eyes. One of those more-than-genuine facial movements. He made his way toward me, looking behind him to make sure no one saw what he was about to do, before placing his lips onto mine, letting them linger for a good moment. That was just what I needed. But, a certain thought wouldn't free itself from my mind. He looked around before doing this. He doesn't want to be seen with me this way? Especially after seeing me in my current condition? Maybe even because of it...

I pushed the depressing thought back, far back, when he ended the kiss, pulled away, and he spoke again. "How're you feeling?" He handed me the group of beautiful yellow blossoms, which closely resembled the color of my hair, which I'm guessing was the purpose behind buying them. He brushed away the messy hair covering my forehead before sitting down on my left, where my mom had sat earlier, before I answered.

"Thanks," I smiled before placing the sunflowers down on my lap and speaking further. "I'm doing okay..." I trailed off. I looked into his concerned eyes, wanting to wrap my legs around those muscular hips of his. Well, that wasn't a necessary thought.

"That's good! That's good..." The look on his face told me he didn't know what was appropriate to say and what wasn't. I wasn't sure either, to be honest.

But I didn't want to be a "pussy" about it.

We sat there in silence for a few minutes, Cato fidgeting in his chair every once in a while, attempting to get comfortable, me just twiddling my thumbs. "It was an accident, you know," I said, breaking the tension. I looked at him and he looked at me. He was surprised I had just blurted that out like an idiot. He sighed out a breath of relief before hovering over me, kissing my forehead.

"I know that, you idiot," he said, sensitively, lips still hovering before my cranium, breath caressing my noggin. Shivers, shivers, shivers. "After what happened at camp, how could you?" He backed away into his chair again, that signature Cato smirk gracing his features.

"My thoughts exactly. I figured you'd understand," I said, confidently, also smirking. We sat in a comfortable silence, just inspecting each others' faces, again, before he opened his mouth to speak, only to close it again.

"What?" I chuckled.

"It's nothing."

"Spill it." I raised my left eyebrow at him, then my right, then made both hairy caterpillars do a complicated series of movements of ups and downs, forcing him to answer.

He chuckled, looked down into his lap like someone had died there, with a somber look about him. He looked back up to me and hesitantly spoke. "Did you catch what I said to you? Before you were dragged away by those assholes at the bonfire?"

I froze. Again. It felt like I had placed my palms into a bowl of warm water they were sweating so profusely. Say something, you idiot! I did, of course, but I wouldn't let him know that just yet. I wanted to hear him actually verbalize it this time, and it actually mean something. I shook my head.

"I didn't quite catch it. It was too dark out," I lied. "What were you trying to say?" I gripped my sheets, preparing myself for what was to come. I felt my face unconsciously grin, but I forced it away to feign ignorance. Maybe after this he would actually ask me out! This is the moment I've been waiting for, practically for my whole life.

"I said..." he began, pausing for a few seconds. I know what you said, Cato. Just say it again already. "Colorful."

…

"Colorful"? That's not what flowed from those beautiful, lying pair of lips you've got earlier.

"I thought what you did was pretty amazing..." he said without conviction. I felt a sudden urge to cry. I was sitting atop a pedestal, at that time. Unfortunately it was placed near a construction zone, where Cato took his massive, black wrecking ball and I was crumbling down, falling down to the earth, battered and bruised by the fall. I couldn't get back up.

"Oh. Right, yeah," I stumbled. I didn't want to speak but I knew I had to keep up appearances. "They were cheering for me and everything. It was probably the greatest moment of my life," I said, robotically, set him ablaze with my eyes, trying to crush him like he had crushed me. It clearly wasn't, and he knew that.

"Of course," he replied. There was a heavy gathering of dust and water hovering above him now. Don't blame me. I was ready this time. You spoiled this, not me. He was about to speak again, but soon after he said that my door had swung open for the third time that day, making Cato fly out of his seat, to his feet, to face my two new visitors.

"Peeetttaaaa," my name had been drawn out. "We just spoke to your parents, you better be fucking-" Keira was cut off by the unexpected sight of Cato. They sized each other up. Keira thought to herself for a bit, before her eyes grew wide with understanding, a light-bulb finding its way above her no-good-noggin. She looked to me, and I violently shook my head, mouthing "Kick him out" before Cato's eyes met mine, only to receive a pseudo-warm smile.

"Is he awake, Keira? Why don't I hear you guys talki-" Yoko entered at that time. She was fiddling with her glasses before bumping bodies with Cato, obviously not expecting such a hunk of meat to be gracing our presences. She quickly threw her glasses back on, so that they were sort of sideways, and analyzed him. She nearly gasped.

"Keira, Yoko... This is Cato Morley," I began introductions. "He's gonna be a junior this year-"

"Yeah, I know who he his," Keira cut me off. "The only thing I need to know is why is he here?" She crossed her arms and began tapping her foot, impatiently waiting for a response. Cato scratched at the back of his neck, panicking, before walking over to me and making up a complete load of horse shit.

"Well, Peeta here, was asking me at the camp if, uh..." he stumbled. Good. He deserved this. Feel Keira's wrath. Let's see if you live. "If he could... join the football team!" he exclaimed, unconvincingly. "I wanted to make sure my bro was doing all right," he let out. He came to fist bump me, but my hand had been prepared for a high-five motion. He changed his hand to resemble mine and I did the same. Finally we had had enough and we just fist-palmed. The whole ordeal was as awkward as walking a 3-legged dog. I felt bile gather in my throat as he backed away, a hurt look on his face. Don't blame me. Blame yourself. My poker-face expression never faltered as I spoke.

"Thanks for the concern, bro," I threw his word back at him, hoping it would sting. The look on his face said it had. "Don't think I'll be joining now, of course," I went along with his lie. He laughed and dug his hands deep into his pockets, practically punching holes through the rough fabric.

"Yeah, of course..." he trailed off, acting like a neglected little puppy. He looked around before backing toward the door and grabbing the handle. "Well, it was nice meeting the two of you," he lied, I'm guessing. Keira nodded, Yoko waved. "See you around." He turned to meet my eyes. I held his gaze for a second before forcing myself away. I couldn't allow myself to get lost in those eyes. He had flattened me today and there was no way I was going to give in. "Get well soon, Peeta," he barely audibly whispered before opening the door and leaving.

I took my hand in my head before quietly sobbing. Keira was by my side in a millisecond, pulling my skull to her chest. She was so much smarter than I was, only having three seconds to decipher our conversation and find the truth, hidden behind hundreds of masterfully crafted steel doors of deceit.

"Uh," Yoko let out. "Am I missing something here?" Wait, Yoko didn't know? I expected her to. After all, Keira was "shit at keeping secrets." I looked to Keira.

"You told me not to tell anyone," she reminded me. Well, yeah. But I expected you to, I thought to myself.

"Thanks," I replied, forgetting about Yoko in the corner of my room.

"Wait. What does Keira know that I don't?" she spoke, fast. Whenever Yoko became riddled with any sort of emotion her mouthed moved with the speed and grace of a cheetah. A silence came over us like a cloudy fog, rendering my sight, or in this case my judgment, broken.

"I slept with Cato Morley," I let out bluntly. This time a clown telegram felt like a good idea. I saw Yoko's eyes fill with hurt before she spoke again.

"I know you guys have known each other for years before I met you two, but I thought that wasn't a big deal. Now you're keeping secrets from me? I thought we were fucking friends!" Yoko screamed, and cursed, for that matter. Yoko only spoke profanities when something was terribly wrong.

"Bono," I let out. She spoke before I could keep going.

"No, don't talk to me," she said as she turned around and flew out the door. I placed my head back onto Keira's chest, sobbing powerfully now, as she soothingly pet the top of my head.

"Don't worry, Peeta," she said. "We'll figure this out. We always do."

I don't how it was possible but my tears only came more forcefully. In a matter of days, hours for me being unconscious and all, my life had gone from the brightest of sunny days to a grim hurricane of an existence.

This year wouldn't be like anything I had expected.

A/N: So, tell me honestly.. Was it a piece of crap? I couldn't for the life of me pull out as much fig. Language as you love, Fadi :( Sorry about that. I'll do better in the future, promise :)

Review and such! Or leave a PM. I'm always open to talkin' to you peeps :D

Love 'n' Peace,

Scheiguy