CupcakeSprinkles14- I could never hate you! 3 But you know very well by now how I just love my cliffhangers. Such a dysfunctional relationship lol.

SakuraDrops141- Yay! I'm so glad you liked it. I feel like I'm writing myself into a corner here and I'm not sure where all this will end up, but I know there'll be more emotion to come. RIP Captain.

Your Failing Epicness- I sure hope I can crank out more intense chapters. Yes, let's all take a moment to drool over Cato. So sexy. And as far as the mystery behind Finnick, I guess all I can say is that you just have to keep reading :)

JacksonTheGreat- Thank you for the wonderful review. I think it has become a personal mission of mine to be a tease whenever possible. Sadistic, I know.


Peeta's POV

I watch his hands, expecting them to reach for my cock like back at the river, but my breath hitches when I feel his mouth there instead. His lips envelope around my tip and his tongue dances along the underside. I can't help but throw my head back in pleasure.

I've never felt a sensation like this before, the warmth and gentle friction of his tongue gliding along me. A helpless moan escapes my throat, and I can feel Cato smile smugly against my thigh. He takes more of me into his mouth and when he sucks, the pressure drives me to buck my hips up into him. My vision's blurring and I feel like I'm falling off the face of the earth so I grip desperately into Cato's hair to keep me grounded. This only seems to push him further and his eager ministrations have me melting, forcing a small whine past my lips. Cato lightly chuckles at this while he works, and the vibrations send hot sparks through every nerve in my body. I wasn't prepared for this. I can't hold back. My back arches high as the wave crashes.

"Cato!" I breathlessly hiss as I explode, every muscle in my body rigid. Through the blinding ecstasy, I can still feel Cato's mouth taking me, but his hands are now gripping my waist tightly, keeping my back frozen up in my orgasm-induced arch. He won't let me come back down to earth. My high starts to slowly settle and all I can do is stare at the stars while I feel his lips let go of me only to kiss my hips and up my stomach. Finally, he gently sets my waist back down on the soil and looks at me, entranced.

"Told you you'd like it," he purrs. "And you taste even better than I'd imagined." I'm too overwhelmed to bite back at his embarrassing comment and I see him start to tug on his own pants but the sound of someone approaching sobers me quickly and I scramble underneath Cato to pull my pants up.

Marvel comes back to camp with game in hand and he stops short when he takes in the site of Cato and I. I know I have dirt and twigs entangled in my hair and, glancing over at Cato, I see him wearing a stupid grin of self-satisfaction on his face. His hair is disheveled after the way I gripped and ran my hands through it. Marvel puts two and two together and starts hootin' and hollerin'.

"Shut up, Marvel," Cato snickers, good-humoredly. "You're gonna wake up the entire forest with that mouth of yours."

"I think your mouth has been doing way more interesting things than mine, my friend."

Cato just shakes his head, still wearing his stupid grin, while I'm over here choking on embarrassment.

"Why don't we just get supper started?" I offer desperately with still-flushed cheeks.

I cook up the rabbits Marvel hunted and we eat in peace amidst the crackling campfire. I dare not speak of the thrill my heart felt when I skinned the animals and watched the blood spill as I prepared them. I know that wasn't me. I simply smile at Marvel and thank him for the food and keep my gaze from Cato's, afraid he'll notice me struggling. He seems intently tuned into every expression and twitch of my body, so it surprises me when Marvel's the one who speaks up.

"Peeta?" he softly calls to me. Cato perks up.

"Yes, Marvel?" I answer.

"It's been gnawing at me for too long now. Your friend, Katniss, said she didn't want you ending up like Madge. I know I'm being insensitive here, but I just have to know. What exactly happened to that girl? And more pressing yet, what exactly happened to you?"

A labored breath heaves out of my lungs as I knew the question was bound to come up sooner or later. I knew they would eventually demand more of my story. I look hesitantly at Marvel and then at Cato to see them both miserably failing at feigning patience.

"It all began 2 weeks ago. Madge's father told everyone she was sick. Said she couldn't go outside and was too ill for visitors. But she wasn't sick. She was cursed. Katniss and our other friend, Gale, and I snuck in to see her for ourselves and who we saw wasn't her. It had consumed her. It spoke to me before… before…" the shivers that descend down me are so intense the story gets caught in my throat.

"Please, Peeta," Marvel encourages. As I continue, the memory of that night comes flooding back…


Gale expertly maneuvers the kitchen window open and he, Katniss, and I crawl our way into the Undersee household. The entire place is pitch-black as we creep through the empty hallways and ascend the stairs.

"Something doesn't feel right," I whisper.

"Of course it doesn't," Katniss hisses. "That's why we're here. Madge is supposedly 'sick,' yet her father refuses to let my mother or any other healers see her."

"That's not what I meant," I hiss right back. "I mean I get the feeling we're headed for some deep shit."

"I feel a little uneasy myself, Peeta," Gale agrees. "We'll just peek our heads into her room to make sure she's at least alive and then we'll get the hell out of here."

As the three of us make our way down the upstairs hallway, we see light coming from the crack in Madge's doorway. There's voices.

"We can't keep this up much longer. The townspeople are getting suspicious."

"I know, I know, darling! I just don't know what else to do! If anyone finds out, you know as well as I what they'll do to her."

Suddenly, Madge's door opens and the sources of the voices, her parents, walk out distraught. Gale yanks Katniss and me into the bathroom to hide as they walk past and head downstairs.

"Come on," Katniss urges us. "Now's our chance."

The three of us tiptoe down to Madge's room and, warily, I'm the one who opens the door. As I enter, I stop short when I get a good look. It's Madge, one wrist shackled to the iron bed frame, sitting in a contorted fetal position on the pillows. Her hair is wild and she looks utterly emaciated. I'm extremely upset at the sight. I can hear Gale and Katniss gasp when they peek their heads around me to see.

"Madge?" I whimper as I move a little closer.

Her neck slowly strains towards my direction, but I can't make out her face behind her disheveled locks. Suddenly, the door behind me slams, shutting out Katniss and Gale. I bolt to the door and yank on the handle. It won't budge.

"Peeta!" Katniss cries from the outside. "We can't open the door!"

"Shh!" I scold her, afraid Mr. and Mrs. Undersee will hear. "Just stay put. I'll see if I can climb out the window."

As I turn back around, Madge is still facing my direction. Underneath her mess of tangled hair, she grins.

"Well aren't you a precious thing?" she calls out to me.

"Excuse me?" I ask, greatly confused. It's her voice, but Madge has never talked so… weird.

She cocks her head to the side with a smirk and speaks. "Madge is screaming at me right now to leave you alone. Says you are a good boy. Are you a good boy, Peeta?"

Chills run down my spine as understanding slowly creeps in. My breathing's ragged as I fearfully clarify, "I'm not speaking to Madge, am I?"

"We have ourselves a winner!" the thing in Madge's body maniacally teases.

My skin is crawling and I'm dying to run, but I know now that this "thing" was the culprit that locked me in here. When fear sets in, the natural response is "fight or flight." Well, flight isn't an option at the moment.

"Look, whatever you are, you need to leave Madge alone," I try to demand boldly, but my trembling voice betrays me. "You've done enough damage. You're clearly killing her. Let her go."

This evil thing just stares me down and I can take full notice now of its black eyes consuming Madge's once baby blues. Her thin lip twitches and if I didn't know any better, I'd say it looked like it was calculating something. Finally, she curls her lips up into the most devilish and twisted expression I've ever seen and those black eyes lock on mine. I know then my intuition was right. She was calculating something and she's just made up her mind. The door suddenly clicks and opens.

"Peeta," Katniss begins, but I stop her short.

"We need to get the fuck out of here now," I press, violently shoving her and Gale down the hall. They don't put up a fight when they see the wild terror in my eyes. When we sneak back out the kitchen window, I tell them what transpired and they both can only look at me with horror. Without another word, the three of us run home, terrified, like the children we are.

It's later that night in my bedroom, the air's chill but I keep my window open, as always. The breeze feels good as it makes the curtains dance. In my bed, I lie awake, waiting for sleep to take me when I hear my mother call me from downstairs in the kitchen.

"Peeeetaaa," she calls to me so uncharacteristically sweet and so softly I almost don't hear her. "Come to me."

I have no clue what she needs, or why she's still downstairs this late at night, but her voice is so gentle and coaxing, I feel completely obliged to go to her. I leave my room to venture into the darkness of the hallway and as I reach the top of the staircase, I can see candlelight from the kitchen below. And sure enough, my mother calls to me again, louder and more persistently this time.

"Peeta, come to me."

"I am, mother," I reply as I descend the stairs. That's when I hear my mother again… in my parents' bedroom across the hall, back upstairs.

"Peeta, did you just call me?" she asks from her room.

My feet become stone as I stand, paralyzed, on the stairwell. What is happening? If my mother's in her bedroom, what the hell is downstairs calling to me as her? As realization sets it, panic breaks through the crippling fear and I turn to run straight for my room when the light goes out in the kitchen below, a low growl ripping its way through the darkness. As I race down the hall, I can hear the steps creak with weighted haste and I know it's right behind me. I slam and lock my door just as something approaches it with full impact. The bang it instills against the door is enough to force me onto the ground. It keeps banging as I cling to my knees in terror. After what seems like eternity, everything just stops. Silence. The only sound is the thrumming of my dizzying heartbeat ringing in my ears. Suddenly, the door handle jiggles.

"Leave me alone!" I scream.

"Peeta!" my father yells. "What is going on? Open the door!"

Relief courses through me at his voice, but then the possibility of it being another trap creeps into my thoughts.

"I'll open it if you stick your hand under the door so I know it's you," I challenge.

"Peeta, what has gotten into you?" he asks, exasperated, but he sighs and gives in and I see his left hand poke out from underneath the door. I study his swollen knuckles and faded wedding band. It's him.

"I'm sorry, father. I thought someone broke into the house," I lie when I open the door. I know he can see me shaking.

"What were you doing banging on your door?" he asks. By now, my mother and both my brothers are out in the hall, irritated.

"I wasn't," I tell him earnestly.

"Look, it's too late at night to be dealing with this nonsense," my mother interrupts, waving her hands wildly in the air. "Everyone back to bed. Peeta, I don't wanna hear another peep out of you the rest of the night."

"Yes, mam," I surrender.

The entire night is spent frozen to the far corner of my bed as shadows and voices plague me. It's all too clear what I've done. I brought it home with me.

The morning can't come quickly enough as I hear father rustling downstairs opening the bakery. I eagerly rush to help him and begin baking with my brothers. It's barely noon when my father takes me aside.

"Peeta," My father begins, softly. "I've just received word from your friend, Delly, that Madge Undersee passed away last night."

"I know," I murmur.

"You know?" my dad repeats, confused.

I start stumbling over my words. "I, I mean that I had a feeling she wouldn't make it. You know, her father kept saying she was just so sick."

"Oh, yes," he buys the excuse. "Well, anyway, I'm terribly sorry, son."

"Me too," I whisper, for more reasons than one.