"Stole her?" Johanna hissed, leaning against the door way to the parlor, the intruders blood pooling at her feet. "How…how did I not notice? How did this happen?" she had her hand towards her throat.

"While you were struggling, before Callan came in, two other men came in, and dragged her out." Peeta said softly. He suddenly wheeled around at Callan, inches away. "Where were you?" He bellowed "Why weren't you in the house? You're supposed to protect her!" he was livid, eyes wild and burning, hair ruffled, blood smudged across his face.

"I…I…I'm sorry…I wasn't expecting anything to happen, not now… I—"

"Shut up!" Peeta yelled, cutting Callan off. Callan winced back, Johanna put a hand on his shoulder.

"Peeta, it isn't Callan's fault. No one saw this coming. Who's to say Callan could have stopped this?" Johanna soothed. Peeta deflated and slumped down on the stairs.

"Callan, I'm sorry…I—"

"Daddy?" Primrose called from upstairs. Peeta stared in alarm at the two dead bodies at his feet and stood, climbing the stairs hurriedly.

"We have to get rid of these bodies." Johanna said plainly. Callan nodded numbly.

"I'll do it if you get rid of the blood," He offered. Johanna laughed dryly.

"Deal." Callan picked up on of the bodies, and Ven stared at it, his face twisted and harsh as he picked up the second. The third man was still unconscious in the chair, breathing even.

As the two young men walked into the velvet dark, Ven stared around.

"Okay, now what do we do?" He demanded. Ven unceremoniously dropped the man he was carrying onto the dirt, and walked over, dragging his canoe off of it's rack. Ven eyed him warily. "You're setting them to sail?" He said cynically. Callan straightened up as he laid the boat down on the shore, staring at Ven dryly.

"Not going to waste my time digging a hole for these people," he said frostily. "We set the boat on fire and push it to sea. The current takes it out as it burns, and they're gone." He muttered, dumping his body into the canoe, faced down, blood smudging the pale wood. Ven didn't move, only crossed his arms.

"Their names are Denny and Thom." He hissed. Callan met his eyes mercilessly.

"Well it's a damn shame to be them, then. They shouldn't have attacked my family." Callan said, voice low.

"Katniss and Peeta are not your family, they—"

"Are not to blame for this shit whole. It's the incompetent people in charge of both these groups." Ven's lip pulled up in a scowl.

"You murdered them." He said impatiently, motioning to the carcass still on the sand. Callan stepped towards him, and Ven stepped back, wanting to get away from him. Callan dumped the second body on top of the first.

"And he—" Ven said, pointing to he body on top, "Tried hurting the kids. They deserved to die…Both of them helped in the kidnapping of a pregnant woman." He added dryly, turning and striding towards a shed, and taking out a bottle of lighter fluid. Before he turned he saw slight shock on the face of the older boy. He poured the fluid over the two bodies and the wooden frame of the canoe, and pushed it towards the water, Ven trailing a few steps behind. Wordlessly, pulled a matchbox out of his pocket and struck one, dropping it into the boat. Flames roared up and the two boys silently shoved it out into the ocean, watching it drift out. Callan stepped back and slumped down in the sand, watching the flaming boat float away.

"You made that yourself." Ven said, standing above him.

"I did," Callan replied, watching it burn away. They were silent for several minutes until the boat disappeared, having broken apart and sending it's remains, and the charred cargo, sinking into the black water.

"I didn't know she was pregnant… If I had… I would have gone after those two guys." Ven said, then inhaled sharply as Callan turned to look at him.

"You saw them…? Yes….you came…through the front door. You saw them run past, you didn't stop them." Callan said flatly. Ven was staring at him miserably. "This is your fault, you led them to us!" He yelled, standing up so he stood over him.

"Cal, I'm sorry," He croaked.

"Go to hell! You knew because I told you, so yeah, it's partially my fault for trusting you!" he snapped. Ven flinched, and Callan continued. "But that's just it. You knew. You knew what they meant to me. You know they are as much family to me as Annie and Johanna, so why you even made that ignorant comment I d—"

"Johanna isn't your family, either." Ven cut in. Callan wheeled around and punched him, his hand, or Ven's jaw, or both, cracked at the contact. Ven smashed into the sand, water washing gently around him as the tide rose.

"They're the only family I have, and at least it's a good one. At least they love me, you filthy, bastard child." Callan snarled. Ven's jaw was already showing dark color from the punch, and his face flushed with rage and hurt at Callan's comment.

As Callan walked back into his house, he reflected on what had happened. Everything about this night had been so uncharacteristic of him, like some kind of poison had taken over his mind over the past few hours. He walked up to his room and pulled on his canvas barn jacket, softly lined fleece, and a worn pair of boat shoes, jogging down the back staircase. The front foyer smelled of cleaning fluid, but the blood was gone, Johanna sat in the parlor, staring down the intruder.

"Johanna…I need to take a walk." Callan said, not waiting for a response as he stepped into the cool evening and slipping quietly down the smooth stone of the victors village, and onto the mangled cobble stone of the town. He was not aware of how far he had walked when a soft voice called his name.

"Callan…" He turned to see a girl around his age, with soft golden hair and navy blue eyes.

"Cora, hey." He said as the girl stepped out of her doorway and into the street. She was wearing a pale blue sleeved dress, and a white apron. "You're still working?" She shrugged.

"I just got off." She said, untying her apron.

"I'll walk you, I need to clear my head." Callan said as they began walking.

"Do you know what got Ven so upset earlier? He came in here raging earlier, got drunk, and stormed out hours later…I don't know what's happened, I'm worried." Cora said. Callan's face blushed at the mention of Ven, the fight earlier resurfacing in his mind. He was thankful for the dim lighting on the street so she couldn't see him.

"No, I don't know what's happened to him…I'll look around after you get home, make sure he's safe and all." Callan said, forcing a chuckle. Cora slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, slipping the other hand on top.

"Thank you…he's one of my closest friends." She said as they came to her door. He smiled at her in the new brightness of her porch light. "Well, go—" He was cut off by her suddenly pushing her lips on his. He stayed stiff as her tongue slid into his mouth. He pushed back as she tried drawing him closer. "uh-hh…I—I'm sorry, but I have to…home…should search for Ven, you know, he's not good when he's drunk." He struggled to get out. She smiled understandingly.

"Yeah, I'm sorry that was so abrupt...I don't really have an explanation. Can you let me know when you find him?" She asked.

"Yeah of course, want me to call?" Callan asked. She shook her head.

"Our phone is out…I'll be up for a while, if you don't mind stopping by?" Callan nodded.

"Sure, no problem…goodnight!" he said, walking away from the porch, head spinning after the kiss. It was so sudden and abrupt and warm. He shivered, suddenly feeling the chill again. He zipped his coat up and walked towards the rocky outcrop where Ven would most likely be.