A/N:

A thank you goes out to MissDizzyD, EricaHellyeah, and sweet-and-sassy928 for reviewing. Keep it up, reviews keep me on schedule. Hope you enjoy!

We retreat to the dining table once Virgil leaves the room, sulking. Yasmin seems unconcerned and oblivious to Virgil's muttered comment, she's chatting with Atticus animatedly and drawing her lips back so far she looks more like a snarling dog than a person smiling. Atticus looks over and mouths "Help me." before turning back around to face Yasmin and he sits politely while she gushes about how pleased she is to escort such a handsome tribute.

"What was the scene with Virgil all about?" I ask Pax, still breathless.

"I'll explain later." Pax growls, staring Yasmin down from across the table, and I don't press the subject any further.

Dinner is served and as I let my eyes settle on the feast brought before us and I am nearly unable to stop myself from diving into it. This stuff isn't garbage scraps or tesserae, my usual meals; this is rich, healthy food that makes my stomach churn. Steam rises from the thick red soup and tickles my senses as I pick up the spoon and shovel it into my mouth. An explosion of flavor hits me, a sensation I never experienced. I think of how Sage would like to see us now, our hunger pains healing. I wish I could send him this meal; maybe the warmth would comfort him like it does to me.

One of the babies cry out again, their gravely weeping makes Yarrow rub a hand over the dark circles under his eyes. He balances the twins, one on each arm, and feeds them a bottle before he eats his food. He rocks them back and forth in his arms, but the baby boy continues wailing and Yarrow looks in distress as his eyes search down the table for someone to help.

"Miss Pictor, would you happen to know anything about children? You seem very… motherly."

"Oh it's not that hard! Just shut them up before I throw them out of the train windows!" Yasmin screeches, rubbing her temples.

I grit my teeth as images of those helpless babies being brutally murdered in the arena fogs my mind. I watch the way Yarrow hugs them tighter at her comment, keeping his eyes down and rocking them again. He shuts his eyes in defeat, and I now turn to Yasmin. She's sighing in disgust, which forces my blood to boil.

I'll kill every bloody kid in the arena if it means one of us comes back to you!

My last words to Sage ring in my ears. I meant it, I really did. However, as I look across the table I can't bear to visualize taking a knife to one of those defenseless children. It makes me furious, absolutely livid, that those two little children make me feel this way. They can't even speak, but the way Yarrow reacts to them drives me insane to think I might be the one to kill them. I've always been unreachable, tough-skinned, and fierce; I shouldn't be feeling things like this. In the heat of the moment, I pick up the remainder of my piping hot bowl of soup and sling it across the table to Yasmin and stain her expensive Capitol dress red. At first, the sound coming from Yasmin is a low hum, it builds up in the back of her throat and releases into my eardrums and pierces them. She launches the chair into the back wall and stands up, her veins bulging from her neck. Unexpectedly, she snatches Atticus' arm and drags him close to her, planting a kiss on his lips before either one of us can stop her. She lingers, enjoying the heat from my rage radiating across the room to her. A scream escaped my lips as the realization strikes me. Outrage courses through my body, heating me to my very core and feeding a flame so hot within my heart that I almost scream once more in pain. Atticus' hands flew to Yasmin's collarbone and he presses his palms flat against her, shoving Yasmin away from him. She stumbles back a few steps, speechless, and sneers at me.

I feel hands gripping my waist, and dragging me away from the dining room. Yarrow makes an exit to his room as well, both babies sopping wet from their salty tears. He storms out of the room, most likely ashamed that his mere cry for started the fight, but truth be told I would be surprised if I hadn't thrown something at that woman before leaving for the arena. Abrielle won't even look at Atticus, but trails behind Yarrow to retire to her room. Pax half-carries, half-drags me away, hushing me as I continue bellowing at Yasmin even though she's three rooms away. His hand slips over the brass doorknob and throws me over his shoulder with one arm, Pax really is quite young and strong but his dark circles make his seem older. He throws me down on the bed and observes me carefully.

"You're a fighter." Pax states admirably, it's not a question.

"You would know a lot about that…" I trail off icily. My temper is still ignited; I just need to hiss at him. The way he wronged me all those years ago.

"What are you talking about?" Pax narrows his eyes, clearly defensive that I snapped on him so quick.

"Don't pretend you don't know. We lived next to each other before you moved into Victor's Village five years ago, Pax! I know you could hear our screams. Everyone did, as if this didn't speak up enough." I rip my shirt collar down to reveal nasty bruises, blooming in color and reminding me of my past.

"What did you want me to do, Ariana?" Pax retorts, grabbing my wrists and pulling me close to him. "What could I possibly have done?"

"Sage didn't see his little sister die on television that night so many years ago because he was saving me from nearly being killed! He didn't hear the last words she exhaled before she died because he cared about us! You know what Pax? He didn't even have the money you had, but he was brave." I cry out, ripping my wrists away from his grasp and slamming them against his chest. His eyes are accusing, livid and I know he is ready to attack but my words just slice across the air without effort.

"I'm glad I never came. I'm glad I let your parents hit you because THAT pain is not even half of what Virgil and I have been through. You know why Virgil broke down at dinner? The girl that bludgeoned her district partner to death was named Ariana. She was from District 1, and you remind me so much of her. You're both cruel and heartless and bitter. Imagine having to see that, and live with it. The pain to us is so deep, so agonizing, so intense, and it never stops. I don't think it will heal. I don't think I'll ever live. We're awake, our hearts are beating but slowly, mentally, I think we're dying." A stinging sensation hits me, his words slashing in my ears. I finally thought I had found someone in this place, but just as quickly as I thought I had him he slipped away. Slowly, I release my palms from his chest. I peer at him through my lashes and he looks deadly, unforgiving, but for a moment it was almost as if eyes softened as I held his stare.

"You can leave." I demand.

"Gladly."

Pax bangs the door on the way out, and everything is eerily silent.