A/N: I'd like to remind everyone before you read this chapter that Peetato is endgame for this story :)

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. I apologize for any typos.

Chapter Eleven: Betrayal

After telling him that tomorrow he would learn how to turn, Cato had disappeared with Clove to 'discuss important matters'. Peeta didn't know what to make of what he had just been told. What if it didn't work? What if one of the many changes included that Peeta couldn't find it in him to do what Cato told him to and couldn't find the supposed wolf that was buried in his subconscious? What if the wolf wasn't there?

This, and many other panicked thoughts, surged through Peeta's brain. He was still teetering on the fence between believing what he had been told so far and falling backwards into disbelief. It still didn't seem completely real. Like any second something was going to happen that would jerk him from an alarmingly vivid dream.

Peeta wasn't sure what drove him to do what he did next but once he was halfway there, there was no stopping him. He had no fear of getting lost, like the map to the entire forest had been branded into his mind. The Undead Camp was on the other side of the forest. It took Peeta an hour and a half to walk there but the calm, serene aura that lingered in the woods allowed him to get lost in his thoughts on the way.

There was a difference between Cato and Marvel. There also many similarities: They were both supernatural creatures, they were both incredibly old but still had a youthful face, they both knew things that Peeta didn't about himself and things he had done in the past. The differences, however, were still there. Cato was so complicated, Peeta didn't know how to get answers from him because all he did was speak so cryptically. Whereas if Peeta asked Marvel a question, he would actually answer it. And the answers that Peeta wanted to get about turning weren't something he wanted skirted around. The only person he could voice his concerns to-someone who wouldn't be blasse and confusing-was Marvel. Because if there was anyone who would be completely honest and upfront, even if what he was saying wasn't the happiest of news, it was Marvel.

It was much darker at the Undead camp, even though the sun was only beginning to set. A thick copse of trees shrouded the area in shadows, allowing the occupants to begin to wander around in the shade. Just like the map in the forest had done, Peeta was able to navigate the Undead camp ground without really thinking about it. He found Marvel's tent and paused, unsure about what he might find if he just walked on in. How do you announce your presence to a tent? Do you knock the fabric? One of the support poles?

"Erm . . . Marvel?" Peeta deicded to call. "Are you in there?"

"Come on in."

Peeta ducked underneath the entrance flap to find Marvel lying in bed with a blonde girl. From what he saw before he covered his eyes, both were naked and were probably having sex before Peeta had interuppted. "Oh god, sorry to intrude. I can come again later," Peeta quickly said.

"No, it's fine," Marvel replied. "Glimmer was just leaving."

Peeta peered through his fingers. Glimmer didn't seem to mind leaving, a pleased grin on her face as she climbed out of Marvel's bed. "See you later, baby," she purred. She brushed past Peeta and knocked her hip against his own on the way out. "Nice to see you again, sir."

When she was gone, Peeta looked at Marvel incredulously. "She called me sir," he said.

Marvel smirked. "I heard," he said.

"But why?!"

"I think you know why." Marvel patted the spot beside him on the bed. "Take a pew, tell me what's brought you to our humble campground."

Peeta sat on the bed beside Marvel, no longer feeling awkward. Despite things that had obviously went on between them in the past, Peeta viewed Marvel as a friend he went to to talk about things that worried him. Even if the Undead man didn't see it that way, Peeta couldn't see anything more coming from their friendship. If that even what it was.

"So, what's on your mind?" asked Marvel.

"Cato says I'm ready to learn how to turn," Peeta said. "But I don't know if I am." There was a pause while Marvel thought through what he just said. Peeta could taste the surprise just in how he didn't immediately reply to him. "What if I can't do it? What if . . . if . . . I don't know, things have changed so severely that I won't be able to find the wolf that's apparently in my subconscious? What if it's not even there?"

"I wouldn't worry about that," said Marvel. "This is all just nerves."

"Do you think I'm ready?" asked Peeta.

Marvel shrugged. "Not my place to judge. Cato's the one who decides. I just trail along behind."

Peeta picked at the fabric of Marvel's duvet. "You mean he doesn't talk to you about it?" he asked. "Shouldn't you have a say as well?"

"I wish," Marvel laughed. "To him I'm incidental. Even though we're both leaders in our own rights, I think Cato believes he's higher in rank. I don't know why, maybe because you've always been more inclined towards him. Maybe he thinks because you like him better that it gives him a right to call the shots."

"I don't like him better," Peeta immediately said. He didn't have a preference, really. Well, okay, Cato's mysterious self enticed him in ways he couldn't describe but it didn't mean that he didn't like him any more than Marvel. They were both completely different people. As he said before, Peeta liked Marvel as a friend. As for Cato . . . well he didn't exactly know what way he liked Cato but he didn't hate him either.

In the beginning, Marvel made him uncomfortable. Peeta couldn't deny this. But Marvel was the only person who gave him straight answers when he asked. All Cato did was brush it off, say it wasn't time and he'd tell him later or to trust him. Peeta did trust him but it would be a bonus if he trusted him and got answers.

"You're going to make an amazing leader and a very powerful wolf," Marvel promised. "I understand why you're worried but I promise you it will work."

Silence followed as they both thought about what was to come. Peeta wanted to clear the air. He didn't care as much about the bite. Cato had made a bigger deal about it than he had. Okay, so in the moment he had been scared but Marvel was over a thousand years old, he obviously knew what he was doing and, despite what Cato said, Peeta didn't believe that he could lose control.

"Just for the record, I now know self defense so if you try something I don't like I can kick your ass," Peeta warned.

Marvel chuckled. "So he's already taught you self defense? Wow, normally he waits a few weeks before that," he said.

"Well, maybe if you hadn't bitten me he could have waited a while," Peeta pointed out.

"He freaked out about that, huh?" Marvel replied, wincing in pretend worry.

"What do you think?" Peeta replied.

"God, Cato needs to loosen up. I wish we still had that Nightlock bush," said Marvel. When he saw Peeta's confused expression, he elaborated. "In the late 20th Century we found a Nightlock bush. Well, I say 'we', Cato was the one who found the bush. When he showed me it, we thought we might have another food source on our hands. It is our responsibility, as acting leaders until you are equipped for it, to trial any new or suspicious happenings, whether it be new foods cropping up or assualt investigations."

"I'm guessing the berries weren't suitable for consumption?" Peeta guessed.

"No, they were suitable. They just had the side effects of a boatload of what you humans call Ecstasy, Crack and Molly mixed into this teeny tiny berry," Marvel explained.

Peeta's eyebrows lifted. "The drugs?" he asked in disbelief.

"The very thing," Marvel confirmed.

"That must have been intense."

"Intense but fun," Marvel answered. "It was nice to see Cato not so uptight for the first time in . . . forever."

Peeta drew his knee up to his chest and rest his chin ontop of it. "I guess but isn't his authority like his quirk or something? The thing that you can't imagine him not being?" he asked.

"Sure but sometimes authority needs a break," Marvel replied. "You were there at the time, you had some of the berries as well."

"I don't do drugs." It had been Peeta's policy not to accept or do drugs ever since his brother was admitted into a hospital for a week because he mixed too much alcohol with drugs. He didn't care if people thought he was being a prude because of it, he had never thought the risks were worth it.

"You mightn't but you did when we found the Nightlock bush," Marvel said.

Pushing the thought immediately away, trying to concetrate on the fact that the past was the past and couldn't be changed, Peeta asked, "And that was the only time Cato has ever . . . loosened up?" he asked.

"As far as I'm aware," Marvel replied. He regarded Peeta carefully with narrowed eyes. "Although I never know what you two did behind closed doors." The erotic flashbacks immediately came into Peeta's head but he pushed them away. It seemed to be all he did now-a-days. Pushing memories away because he couldn't bear to look at them.

Seeing something the blue of Peeta's eyes that exposed that he was thinking of a specific memory, Marvel added, "But it doesn't matter if because if I wanted to, I could find out."

Peeta moved away. "How?"

"Undead have low telepathic abilities. I can read your thoughts or put my own into your head," Marvel explained. Peeta suddenly wanted to get out of the tent as fast he could. What had Marvel heard? What had he saw? "Of course, I have to have a connection or it wouldn't work. It is a low ability, after all."

"I don't believe you," Peeta concluded. "I have seen many things over the past week but telepathy is too far. It's up there with magic and unicorns."

Marvel rolled his eyes. "I can demonstrate, if you want."

"Fine. Go ahead." Peeta folded his arms defiantly, set in his beliefs. Why had he been so quick to worry? Telepathy was for sci-fi shows not reality. Then again, why exactly would werewolves and Undead creatures be for reality either? Did Peeta really have the lee-way to be quick to dismiss?

Marvel scooted closer and Peeta became painfully aware of the fact that he was naked. How had he not noticed it before? It had just seemed normal up until this point, like he had been in close proximity to Marvel when he was naked a thousand times before. Then again . . . he might have been.

"I'm going to put a memory of mine into your mind," Marvel explained in a professional, measured voice. "It will play out in front of you as if watching a movie behind your eyelids, get it?"

"Got it," Peeta answered.

"Close your eyes."

Peeta did, plunging himself into darkness. He flinched when he felt two fingers press against his temple, momentarily tensed with fear, but relaxed when nothing horrifying or deadly happened. That is, until the memory pushed through.

Peeta instantly knew that he was looking through Marvel's eyes, which made sense since it was his memory. He was walking through the camp, saying hellp to everyone who crossed his path. When he passed the blonde girl-Glimmer, was it?-from before, he smacked her ass, which made her giggle like a school girl. As Marvel walked into his tent, Peeta felt his blood spike in complete mortification.

There he was, on the bed they currently sat on, naked. His hair was jet black but it wasn't difficult to recognize himself. He wore a lustful expression and nothing else, the covers expertly arranged so that as much skin possible was on display while still covering his decency. "Marvie," his past self purred, "I thought you'd never get back."

"I know, I'm sorry. You know what Cato's like," Marvel answered.

Past Peeta pursed his lips and idly ran his hand up and down his bare leg. "Such a waste," he murmured. "All that muscle and no desire for fun."

"Good thing you've got me," said Marvel.

Past Peeta smirked. "You're right." He sighed dramatically. "You were taking so long I almost started without you." He bit on his fingernail girlishly and circled one of his nipples, his eyes rolling behind his head with a moan.

Marvel jumped onto the bed beside him and pulled him into his lap. "What did I do to deserve such a sexy boy as a fuck buddy?" he asked.

Past Peeta shrugged, taking Marvel's hands and placing them on his ass. The Undead man seized the opportunity and squeezed. "Maybe you just got lucky," the groped boy sighed.

"Maybe I did." Marvel, suddenly possessive, pulled the younger boy tight against him and spread his cheeks, so his finger danced dangerously close to his hole. "And now I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't remember where you are-"

"Okay I think that's enough!" Peeta declared, slapping Marvel's hand away from his head. Marvel looked so pleased with himself. "Okay, so you're telepathic. Did you really have to choose such a graphic memory to prove a point?"

Marvel shrugged. "I also wanted to prove that your past selves are completely different to what you are now. I don't come home from visiting Cato now to expect to find you naked in my tent proposing sex and touching yourself. Because that's not who you are now. I think sometimes you're too caught up in your past to worry about your future."

He got that right. Everytime something new came to him, Peeta pondered it for hours on end, convinced that it meant something. And if he didn't like what he saw he either felt violated, guilty or disgusting. Maybe he should just look to his future and not worry about what he saw. But didn't Cato say he had to focus on the past selves? No . . . wait, he said to focus on them enough to believe what he was being told was true. Well, he believed now so he needed to stop giving a damn about the memories and the fear they sometimes struck within him.

"I still don't know if I'm ready to turn." Turning into a wolf frightened Peeta more than turning Undead did. Because he had to be told how to turn into a wolf himself, something he could either succeed in or fail at. Turning Undead had none of that. All he had to do was let Marvel get on with it. There was no fear of looking like an idiot or letting anyone down.

"I can see it in your eyes, you don't want to become a wolf," said Marvel.

"Well, I don't know if I don't want to be a wolf," Peeta reasoned. "I'm just worried I won't be able to do it and I'll let Cato and the others down."

"Then don't do it. Be only Undead and you won't have to worry about any of that," Marvel said.

"Wouldn't that just let Cato down more than failing?" asked Peeta. He didn't like the excited look in Marvel's eyes and he wanted to get rid of it. "The whole point is that I'm supposed to be trying to figure out a way not to let Cato down."

"Why do you always care so much about Cato?!" Marvel demanded, sounding exasperated. "Is it because he wants you on an emotionally level? Well I'm sorry that it's not in my nature to love and want to get married and have kids! Undead can't have kids anyway so it's not the point! Why can't you ever just choose me?!"

Peeta stared at Marvel in shock. He was almost so stunned that he couldn't think of a response. Thankfully, he managed to get words out of his mouth. "Why are you so keen to have me if you aren't capable of loving someone? Is it because Cato has wanted me in the past? Are you trying to spite him by having me choose you? Because I have chosen you in the past, remember, you showed me as much in the memory."

"But you never really choose me," Marvel muttered. "That memory, I showed you? Right after we fucked you went to Cato to talk him into joining us next time." Peeta tried not to pull a face at the thought and focused on what Marvel was saying. "It's in my nature to wish to fuck instead of love and it's in yours to be drawn to Cato more than me."

"But I'm sure when I did choose you I meant it," Peeta insisted.

"Even if you just let me drink you first," Marvel said. "If you let me turn you Undead first then it would prove to Cato that he's not as far above me as he thinks."

"I don't think he believes he's higher above you, Marvel," said Peeta. "And you can't drink me first. Cato says if you drink me first then I won't be able to turn into a werewolf. Something to do with the ritual you have to perform or something?"

Marvel stared at him, eyes suddenly dark. "Cato said that?"

"Yeah, he did but I'm sure maybe if-mpf!" Peeta was cut off when Marvel lurched forward and kissed him. His alarm was enough for the strong Undead man to overpower him, pushing his tongue past his relutanct lips and exploring inside his mouth. The kiss was so good Peeta's insides melted a little and he soon found himself kissing back. Worries over Cato were lost in an ecstasy-like haze.

Glad that Peeta was complying to him, Marvel intensified the kiss, his greedy and eager hands immediately taking the opportunity to explore. Peeta moaned into Marvel's mouth when a hand grabbed his ass over his jeans and groped it while they kissed. Arousal flushed through his body and slung his leg over Marvel's hip, desperately wanting to forget everything and just indulge in something fun for once.

Marvel lowered Peeta onto the bed, his mouth slowly gliding down his neck while he tugged his shirt sleeve down to his elbow. As his teeth took purchase on his partner's milky shoulders, he cupped his hardening crotch over his jeans and massaged the bugle in his hand. Peeta gasped, his hips lifting, begging to be freed of the confines of his own pleasure.

And then it happened.

Blinding pain exploded across his neck. Peeta screamed in pain, immediately trying to push Marvel off of him to find out what it was. Marvel was like an inmovable brick wall however, his mouth covering where the pain was coming from. It was then Peeta realized what was happening.

He was being drained of his blood.

"Marvel, stop!" Peeta protested, a shaky moan escaping him when the older man pressed his palm hard against the bulge in his pants. He squirmed to get out from underneath him but he was feeling himself getting drowiser and drowiser. Before he was too exhausted to even try and escape, Peeta grabbed Marvel's hand and hooked his leg around his ankle, using every ounce of strength he had left to push and spin the around so he was ontop.

It was a fruitless attempt. Almost immediately, all strength left him and, even though he was now on top, Peeta couldn't do anything. He fell against Marvel, unable to stop him from finishing off the job. Marvel didn't mind being beneath him, slipping a leg between both of his and groping his backside since he was too weak to stop him.

Marvel's spare hand went to Peeta's face, which he cupped gently and caressed while he drank the last drop of blood left in his system. Peeta's eyes drooped but he fought to keep awake. When Marvel pulled his teeth out of his skin, it left a sting behind. Peeta groaned weakly in agony.

"You're going to be gorgeous," Marvel purred, stroking Peeta's blond hair until he finally gave in to the darkness and passed out.

~xXx~

Peeta woke up to the sound of a butterfly beating its wings. His eyes shot open and he scanned his surroundings. It was dark and he was lying on something. He jumped to his feet, the still air bristling his skin like the caress of a leaf, and saw that he had been lying on a bed. Jerking his head from side to side, he rushed outside, his eyes able to see as clear as if it were daytime.

He immediately homed in on Marvel and anger flushed through him like a fire. The older man was talking with Glimmer by a campfire, both of them laughing as if recalling something hilarious. Peeta marched right up to them and smacked Marvel across the face.

"How dare you try and drink me!" he yelled at him. His hand stung as if it had been struck by lightening but he ignored it. "Don't you know the damage you could have done?!"

"Could have?" asked Marvel, rubbing his cheek to allevate the pain. "You mean have. However you also don't mean that because there's no damage."

"No damage?! If that had have worked I wouldn't have been able to learn how to turn into a wolf!" Peeta shouted.

"There's no 'if'. It did work," Marvel explained calmly.

"It didn't. I'm not a . . ." Peeta trailed off. He looked back over his shoulder at Marvel's tent, which was a good mile away from where they now stood. How did he get there so fast? Filled with renewed anger, Peeta smacked Marvel again, on the cheek that he hadn't injured before. "You bastard, you've ruined everything! How am I supposed to learn how to turn into a wolf like this?!"

"Because Cato lied to you," said Marvel.

Peeta stopped. He was still filled with uncontrollable rage but those five words pulled him up short. He stared at Marvel with wide eyes. "What do you mean he lied?"

"All that crap about needing to turn into a wolf first? It's bullshit, all of it." Marvel folded his arms and flexed his jaw. "I can't believe it, I bet he's been saying that ever since we came to this arrangement. No fucking wonder you always went to him. He's been lying to you!"

Peeta felt a strange urge to defend Cato, even though he had lied to him. "Surely there had to be a reason for it . . ."

"Yeah, he wanted you to stay with him, that's the goddamn reason," Marvel snapped.

Peeta could understand his anger but he didn't fully trust Marvel either now that he had attacked him so openly and suddenly. "What about the complications and maintenance involved with turning me Undead?" he asked. "Was that all a lie?"

Marvel shook his head. "Cato calls it complication but it's just because he doesn't like how it's done."

"But you didn't do anything, you just bit me."

"No. I did more than that," Marvel contradicted.

Peeta shook his head in denial. "No, I remember. We were-" He narrowed his eyes. "Was . . . was that part of the transition?"

The Undead man shrugged easily. "The hotting up of your blood makes it faster and easier to drink."

Peeta felt used. He didn't know to do. He no longer trusted Cato, so he couldn't go back to him for advice. But Marvel had done something reckless and probably in the eyes of many stupid. Peeta couldn't believe that he was Undead now. He didn't feel any different. "If you thought this was going to make me closer to you, you're wrong. Now I can't trust the both of you," he said.

Marvel didn't seem bothered. "You can go back to Cato, if you want. But you'll be back. You don't know how to deal with yourself as what you are now."

Peeta scowled and pushed past the arrogant asshole, making sure to bang into him as he passed.

As he exited camp and disappeared back into the forest, Peeta tried to figure out where he was supposed to go. He didn't want to go back to Cato because 1) he lied to him and 2) he didn't want him to see him as an Undead man. And he couldn't go back to Marvel but he had bit him spontaneously one too many times. Even though Cato lied about the turning process, Peeta didn't think it had been necessary for Marvel to attack the way he did. They could have discussed it sensibly.

Now he had no one to go to.

Peeta found himself back at the pond. The moon was still reflected in the water but only a quarter of it, since it was not the night of a full moon. Peeta opened his mouth and felt along the top row of his teeth. He squeaked when his thumb caught on something sharp. A fang. Damn, he was never going to adjust to this.

"Well, Peeta, there's no turning back now," he muttered to himself. "No way out."

"Oh, I think there's always a way out."

The words turned Peeta's blood to ice. He recognized it from a flashback. Not the nicest of flashbacks. One of the many he wanted to throw from his mind and forget forever. Reluctantly, he turned around to face whoever spoke.

And came face to face with Death.

A/N: So Cato's been lying, does he have a motive for it? And Peeta's Undead now and facing Death. Duh, DUh, DUH!

Please R&R! (: