A/N: There's a warning for talk about dog fighting and miscarriages in this chapter.

Gale's words haunted Katniss. Her mind had always been full of questions of survival. Suddenly, the only thoughts she was having were about Peeta.

Her thoughts weren't the result of romantic feelings of the nature that Gale had accused Peeta of harboring for her. Rather, Katniss was devoting an exorbitant amount of time to figuring out whether Gale was on to something or not.

There was no doubt that he was much better at understanding other people's intentions than Katniss was. He was popular at school, and whether that was a cause or result, he had more experience with understanding people than Katniss did.

He didn't know Peeta though. Not really. Katniss kept coming back to that one thread of hope. In all the time she had spent with him, Peeta had done nothing that had hinted at romance. Gale hadn't seen that, so he could fill in their trips with any hints he wanted. That didn't mean they'd actually been there.

He could have had his pick of the merchant girls in their class. Surely, they found him at least reasonably attractive. They always seemed to be smiling at him when Katniss saw them at school.

As she trailed after Peeta and Prim one afternoon, she found herself staring at Peeta's broad shoulders. The boy had always fascinated her, as much as she had hated it. She'd been trying to make sense of his motivations since he'd given her that damned loaf of bread all those years ago. Her efforts now weren't much different.

He and Prim were laughing with each other over something, Katniss couldn't have said what. It wasn't the scintillating conversation that was holding her attention.

Peeta glanced over his shoulder, and the blood in Katniss' veins ran cold. She sucked in a sharp breath and hoped it looked like she'd been staring around him at the street, not at his back.

They locked eyes, and Katniss noticed Peeta swallow, his bright smile dimming slightly.

"What do you think?" he asked.

Katniss tried to recall something about their conversation from the recesses of her subconscious, but it did her no good. Her mind hadn't taken in any of it.

"About what?" she had no choice but to ask.

Peeta's grin was different, gentler perhaps, than the smile he'd been giving her before.

"About the dog Cray bought," Peeta said. "Your sister thinks it's cute. I think it looks like an alien."

"It's uglier than an alien," Katniss retorted without thinking.

Her stomach twisted when Peeta gave a short laugh.

"You see," he said, turning back to Prim and allowing Katniss to get a good look at him again.

They continued arguing about the head peacekeeper's new mutt. Cray had been parading it around like it had won one of the stupid dog shows they sometimes aired from the Capitol, but there was no Capitol citizen that would have been caught dead with a dog that didn't have its papers and a recorded family tree reaching farther back than Katniss' own.

Cray's dog also looked a lot meaner than the fluffy dogs favored by the Capitol. The thing's entire purpose was to look intimidating. Cray would laugh as the dog growled at a passing kid who cowered into this mother's skirts. It was becoming his new favorite pastime.

Prim had been going on about rescuing the thing since she'd seen it, despite knowing it was a pipe dream. Even Prim understood what would happen if they stole from a peacekeeper.

"Its looks add to its charm," Prim said, repeating a sentiment Katniss had already heard from her. "He's a good dog. He's just been taught to be mean."

"Of course he has, Prim," Katniss said, taking a step forward and wedging herself between Peeta and Prim without thinking about it. "That doesn't mean the dog isn't dangerous or that it can be turned into a gentle lapdog."

"But it's not his fault."

"That doesn't make him any safer," Katniss said. "He'll bite you all the same, and Cray will laugh while it happens."

"Katniss is right," Peeta said.

Katniss turned to him in surprise. He was usually willing to play along with Prim's fantasies, even when they were too idealistic to become reality.

"The dog's dangerous," Peeta said as much to Katniss as to Prim. "Darius was in the bakery yesterday and said Cray has been bragging about nabbing the dog from a fighting ring in Two while he was visiting home."

"That's illegal!" Prim cried.

She had the same look of terror she'd shown when she'd caught Katniss attempting to drown Buttercup.

"So is hunting in the woods, but I do that every day."

Prim looked as if she'd been betrayed. Her head whipped between Peeta and Katniss as she wished for one of them to step in and stop reality from being reality.

"That's different," she said, a little more subdued. "Hunting doesn't hurt anyone."

It wasn't worth informing Prim that she had killed at least as many animals as Cray's dog had been forced to fight. Maybe she would have agreed that dog fighting was a true cruelty, far more than hunting, but Katniss couldn't claim that no animals had been harmed by her arrows.

"Whether it's different or not doesn't change the fact it happens," Katniss said. "Two happily fights over which of their kids get to die every year. How do you expect them to treat dogs?"

Prim was close to tears and had no response.

"He's out of that now," Peeta said. "No one's putting him in a fight."

Peeta's words and reassuring tone were able to do what Katniss' hadn't. Prim still had tears shining in her eyes, but she was able to quell her sobs that had been oncoming. She even offered Peeta a teary little grin.

Katniss caught Peeta's eyes over Prim's head and found herself giving him a slight nod of thanks before looking away.

XXX

The Victory Tour had always been a close second to the Hunger Games on Katniss' list of least favorite times of the year.

Each year, they'd be corralled into fences to stare at City Hall for hours. No matter how much time was spent in the winter cold, only a few minutes of the ordeal would be shown throughout Panem. Not only was it pointless, several people died each year, typically someone among the elderly or the infants or the ill.

The previous year, a pregnant woman had experienced a miscarriage in the middle of the event and had sworn for months afterward that it had been from standing in the cold for so long. The Capitol had carefully edited around the screaming that had ensued in the middle of the victor's speech.

Despite her frequent trips to the woods in the winter, the Victory Tour was always the one day a year that left Katniss feeling like she'd never be warm again.

The day had always been particularly hard on Prim, whose lungs struggled with the cold, sharp air. Luckily, she was coming into this Victory Tour not having had a recent bout of pneumonia. For all that Katniss still didn't like Adamas, she had to admit that his physical therapy advice had led to fewer stints on bedrest for Prim.

That didn't mean Katniss wasn't keeping an eye on her little sister as they squeezed tighter and tighter together within the fencing. Katniss swore that they gave them less room to stand every year. The peacekeepers stood at the back, pushing everyone closer to the stage as the crowd grew in size.

They always came as late as they could get away with before a peacekeeper arrived at their door with their stupid checklists. It left them with fewer people bearing down on them, and Prim had a somewhat easier time breathing.

It also meant, however, that they didn't have a good view of the stage, and they were often prodded by peacekeepers as reminders to keep staring at the backs of people's heads as if they could see through them.

Prim stayed wedged between Katniss and their mother, gripping their hands through her gloves and pressing into them whenever a peacekeeper came close to their part of the crowd.

Time stretched on. Katniss had no idea where the Hawthornes were. She'd gotten a glimpse of Gale when they'd first arrived, but the families had been ushered into the fencing at different entrance points, and she wouldn't chance weaving through the crowd when she needed to keep an eye on Prim.

Peeta's whereabouts were a complete mystery, but having come from the merchant's quarter, Katniss had to assume the Mellarks were much closer to the stage than they were. The merchants always seemed to be the Twelve citizens the Capitol chose to advertise to the rest of Panem. The peacekeepers would have been knocking on their doors and ushering them to the square long before they focused on the Seam.

The whistle of the train announced its arrival. Katniss swiveled her head in its direction in spite of herself. There was increased muttering throughout the crowd. There were some here who were genuinely excited to see the victor: Marvel from One. The same guy who had killed Rue and managed to disgust Katniss in a way no previous tribute had managed before.

There was little noise from the station once the train came to a stop, and the crowd had quieted as they waited for something to happen. Then, the large screens put up around the Justice Building flared to life, and Katniss could finally see Mayor Undersee on stage, standing from his chair and walking towards the microphone with his notes rumpled in his hands.

His mouth quirked upward in a small smile. The man had always had a habit of smiling at everything. Perhaps that was what had gotten him appointed as mayor in the first place.

"My fellow citizens," he began, "it is with great honor that we welcome the victor of the 74th Annual Hunger Games: Marvel Cline."

The doors of the Justice Building swung open, and Marvel shuffled out, flanked by his escort and mentor. He had his usual scowl on and didn't acknowledge the presence of Mayor Undersee as looked moodily upon the crowd.

His Capitol escort hovered behind him, hesitating as if he wanted to whisper something to the victor. He glanced at the cameras and came to the conclusion that doing so would be imprudent. With tight lips, he took half a step away from Marvel.

The cameras went back to Mayor Undersee, who was still smiling out at the crowd as if he hadn't noticed the guest arrive.

"Mr. Cline, we welcome you to our humble district. Here, we live simple lives, without many of the luxury items you are used to in District 1. However, please accept our token of appreciation for honoring us with your visit: coal, our district's proud export. We offer it to you in an exchange of friendship we hope will strengthen in the years to come."

It was Madge who stood to offer Marvel the small sack of coal. In the past, it had always been Mrs. Undersee, but the cameras weren't showing her today, and Katniss couldn't see the stage well enough to assess whether she was in her usual seat.

The sack almost slid from Madge's grip, and Madge herself nearly tripped in her heels while walking the short distance across the stage. The flush of her cheeks was noticeable on the screens. Marvel frowned at her in distaste, looking at what was surely Madge's best outfit in scrutiny. He held out his hands for the coal but didn't look at it or fake the gratitude that everyone was expecting.

Mayor Undersee plunged forward, determined to get his role in the whole affair over with.

"Now, Mr. Cline, we would love to hear a few words, if you'd be so kind."

He watched Marvel with one eyebrow raised, daring Marvel to go further off script.

Without any change in expression, Marvel turned to shove his coal into the waiting arms of his escort, who appeared close to tears. Marvel's mentor, a woman who towered over him without being in heels, glared at him as he passed her, keeping a close eye on his every move.

Marvel, standing behind the microphone, looked at the crowd for the first time. He tugged a sheet of paper from his pocket and took his time unfolding it, glancing up several times to look out at the crowd for a few seconds. Finally, he spoke in a flat, emotionless voice.

"People of District 12, thank you for inviting me to your home. It is an honor to see your treasured district. Because of you, I was able to keep warm on many winter nights as a child. I look forward to getting to know you better during the short time I have here and to visiting in the future with victors I have helped mentor."

He glanced up from the paper for the first time since he'd started reading and glanced in the direction of the families of the two Twelve tributes who were dead. His frown deepened when he saw them.

"Your tributes fought valiantly," he continued, giving a short nod to the families before looking away from them for good. "Alder's strength in battle was admirable."

Marvel paused. Katniss could see Marvel's spear going through Alder's abdomen in her mind. She wondered if Marvel was seeing it too. His face had been nothing but rage that day.

He looked out at the crowd with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry that I killed him."

There were whispers within the crowd, enough that, taken altogether, it created enough noise to disrupt what was happening on stage. Mrs. Everdeen gasped beside Katniss, and Prim looked at her with wide, questioning eyes.

The screens changed to Mayor Undersee's face instead of Marvel's. The Mayor had managed to keep his permanent smile, and he did his best to appear calm and relaxed, as if nothing were happening around him.

No victor had apologized before. Katniss lifted herself to her toes, stretching her neck as she tried to see Marvel upon the stage. It was a useless attempt.

Marvel's escort had hurried to Marvel's side and was whispering something in his ear as he blocked Marvel from sight. Katniss couldn't imagine what the Capitol would see later that night when their tour stop aired for all of Panem. She doubted it would be this.

Mayor Undersee was moving on the screen. He nudged Marvel to the side as discreetly as he could while beaming at the crowd.

"Thank you for your kind words," he addressed Marvel without looking at him. "We hope you enjoy our district while you're here. Our citizens are working on a delicious meal of Twelve's favorite dishes that we are sure you will enjoy."

Mayor Undersee began clapping until the crowd followed. On the screen, Marvel was ushered off the stage and back into the building. They wouldn't see him again. Ostensibly, he would be treated to the meal that Mayor Undersee had spoken about, but the only people allowed in the Justice Building during that part of the event were the visitors, the Undersees, and Haymitch Abernathy.

Katniss had never asked Madge about what the dinners entailed, and Madge had never bothered to share the information. Each year there was a promise that the victor would be treated to the specialty cuisine of Twelve, but Katniss had little idea what that meant unless it was a euphemism for not feeding them much at all.

The peacekeepers' masks hid their faces, making it difficult to tell what they were looking at as they let the crowd out of the corrals, but there was a rigidity to their movements that was unusual. One of them, Katniss noticed, kept glancing at the empty stage as if he expected something more to happen.

Becoming a victor was meant to be a reward, but Katniss had noticed over the years that all but the most headstrong of the victors grew subdued between their games and the Victor Tour. She'd thought Marvel would be one of the exceptions to that.

The people around them were excited, discussing amongst themselves what they had seen, even as peacekeepers kept pushing them forward to get them out of the area. Katniss lost her family in her thoughts. She hadn't realized she was walking close to the bakery until she heard her name over the noise of the crowd.

She twirled around, seeing Peeta standing on the porch of the bakery. She could see the rest of his family through the window, moving around the display room. There was even a customer inside.

"Shouldn't you be in there?" Katniss asked, motioning at the window as she let her legs carry her up the steps to stand even with Peeta.

Peeta glanced over his shoulder and shook his head.

"Mayor Undersee asked me and some of the other merchant kids to spend time outside today to make the district look livelier. His word, livelier."

Katniss found herself glancing around.

"Are there cameras around here?" she asked.

Peeta shrugged and lowered himself onto the top step with a sigh.

"Probably. I used to try to find them when I was a kid. I was never able to, but you've seen those random shots of the merchant's quarter they always have when they do their stupid voice overs about us. They're filming something somewhere around here."

Katniss felt a chill travel down her spine.

"How long do you hang out here for?" she asked, sitting beside Peeta.

"Just an hour or two. They don't care much about it once it gets dark. I don't think they want to show how dark it gets here at night."

Katniss thought of the images she'd seen of the Capitol at night. You could walk down the street and not even realize the sun had gone down. It baffled her.

"It must be easy to be scared of the dark in the city," Katniss remarked.

Peeta hummed in agreement, but he wasn't paying much attention to her words. His eyes were still on the stage, which remained flanked by most of Twelve's peacekeepers, though it was barren. The lights inside the Justice Building had come on in the room Katniss knew to be one wide open space that was used only for this one day of the year.

"Something's wrong," Peeta said abruptly, eyes on the hall.

"With Marvel?" Katniss clarified. "Yeah, that was weird."

"Not just with Marvel."

Katniss glanced at Peeta from the corner of her eye, ostensibly still watching the Justice Building.

"I don't get what you mean."

"Something was off with that guy," Peeta said after a moment of silence, "but there was something off with everyone on stage. His escort looked livid."

"That's not that weird," Katniss said. "Plenty of escorts act like that with their tributes. I thought Effie Trinket was going to do one of our tributes in this year if they managed to survive the arena."

"What happened on stage was different," Peeta said. "I don't really understand how, but it was definitely different than the past. Something was off. That escort was scared. That wasn't just annoyance because a tribute doesn't know how to wave properly."

Katniss hadn't picked up on that, but she was willing to give Peeta the benefit of the doubt.

"What do you think it was then?" she asked. "What would have them acting that way?"

The Capitol was a bundle of secrets that Katniss knew could never be unraveled. Those who started tugging on the strings paid consequences. Still, she couldn't help but ask, even as the Capitol cameras were hidden around them.

"That I don't know," Peeta said, "but I think something happened to Marvel. Something that changed him in a way that killing a bunch of kids couldn't, and I don't want to know what could have managed to do something like that."

Katniss felt a shiver travel down her spine at the thought. Everyone knew the Capitol was capable of anything malicious.

"But how would they have hurt Marvel in a way they don't other victors? Or why, I guess, is a better question. Why would it have his escort shaken up?"

"They know something," Peeta said, inclining his head briefly in the direction of the nearest peacekeeper. "Probably not everything, but they've never stuck around like this once everything's done. They usually just stick a couple beside the door."

"What's anyone going to do to cause trouble?" she asked. "No one around here would try to kill a victor. They're not that stupid."

"Maybe they're keeping Marvel in," Peeta said with a shrug. "It's as much of a possibility as them keeping us out."

"Not a chance. Did you see the look he gave the coal? That guy has no interest in exploring Twelve."

"I doubt he wants to stick around on a Capitol train either," Peeta pointed out. "Which would win out if you were him?"

The answer, at least for Katniss, was astoundingly District 12. She was sure it was for Peeta as well, but they'd never been exposed to the luxury that Marvel had, at least by proximity, in District 1.

"He has to put up with that for less than two weeks. Then he gets to live in one of those mansions and get paid more money each month than I'll see in my lifetime."

Peeta turned from the peacekeepers to look at her. His forehead was creased in a frown.

"Do you really think that's what being a victor is like? Sitting around in a nice house and spending all your money?"

"What else is it supposed to be like? Other than going to the Capitol and other districts a couple of times a year. It would be bearable, at least, if you had the money and if you could forget about the games."

"I don't think it can be that easy," Peeta said. "The Capitol wouldn't let it be."

"I don't understand it," Katniss said. "I don't get what they would have done to frighten an unsympathetic killer or why they would have done it in the first place. He did what they wanted."

"There's obviously stuff going on that we don't know about," Peeta said. "There always is with the Capitol."

"We should forget about it," Katniss said, even as her mind continued to run through possibilities. "They don't want us to know."

Peeta nodded, but it was slow, hesitant.

"It would be smart, but I don't know if I can forget about it," he said. "I want to know what's going on."

"Then pretend to forget about it. It's not that hard to do."

Peeta didn't look convinced, but he nodded again, this time faster.

"Who do you think knows about it?" he asked, doing anything but forgetting about it. "Do you think something happened in District 1? Or was it the Capitol?"

"Peeta," said Katniss warningly.

They had very little chance of getting in trouble. The peacekeepers were far enough away that their conversation couldn't be heard, and anyone from Twelve would have ignored their conversation or joined in. Still, there were Capitol people close enough by that it felt dangerous.

"I'm serious, Katniss. Have you ever thought about how weird it is that we see the mundane lives of random Capitol citizens who haven't done anything important on TV each day while not having a clue what anyone in District 11, which is right next to us, is doing?"

"We see things sometimes."

"Two minute segments on a news broadcast once a month maybe," Peeta complained. "And we don't even know if what they're saying is true or not. Think of the Thirteen footage."

Katniss did. That looped footage with the same mockingjay fluttering across the corner over and over again, the recurring proof that the Capitol was full of lies. Everyone knew it—at least in Twelve—even those who chose to ignore it.

"What do you think is happening in Eleven then?"

Peeta shifted position, his arm brushing against Katniss', and even through the jackets both of them wore, Katniss felt the hairs on her arm rise.

"I don't know," he admitted. "That's what's frustrating."

"I wouldn't have pictured you being someone who'd get caught up in something like this."

"I wasn't. Not until you took me out into those woods."

Katniss turned to him in surprise to find Peeta's eyes already on her.

"One day, while we were out there, I started wondering what would happen if we kept walking in a straight line and never turned back. Honestly, I don't even know which direction is which out there, so I know how I'd end up. But if it was someone like you, Katniss, what would you be able to find out there?"

"More of the same," Katniss answered, trying to sound dismissive as her stomach twisted into knots. "A lot of trees and game until I eventually made it to the fence of another district or the ruins of Thirteen. Nothing more."

Peeta didn't look convinced. His gaze had turned from the peacekeepers to look down the street. They both knew of the loose area in the fence that one could find there.

"But we can't know that for sure," Peeta said, "because we can't see it for ourselves."

Katniss didn't want to tell Peeta that he was echoing statements that Gale had made to her over the years. She'd grown used to Gale's daydreaming of some promised land. Perhaps she shouldn't have been surprised that someone as bright as Peeta would similarly have dreams of escaping to a better place.

"We can't, but what would it change if we knew what was happening everywhere else? Either they have it worse than us or better. Whichever it is, I don't know that I want to know."

Peeta took a long time answering. At first, Katniss didn't think he would answer at all, and she was fine with that. Dropping the conversation would be better for the both of them.

Just as Katniss was plotting her leave, though, Peeta spoke.

"It couldn't be anything worse than what we can imagine," he said. "Knowing would make us stronger. All the districts together, I mean. That's why they keep it this way. We can't act together if we don't know each other. Not even people from the Capitol can come here, and they can do absolutely anything else."

"Only because all they want to do is dress up and cry over the egotistical maniacs on TV. Give them real problems, and the Capitol would chain them too."

"Teaching them about the districts would be a great way to show them real problems."

"Maybe," Katniss agreed reluctantly.

She had trouble seeing it. Experience told her giving people the benefit of the doubt was often a mistake. That rang doubly true for people from the Capitol who had more than proved that they lived shallow lives.

"But they already watch people die in an arena every year, and it doesn't seem to do much."

"On television. In an event staged like a show. Nothing about those games feels real unless you see the empty places the tributes leave after them. The Capitol doesn't get that. If they actually talked to us and saw the aftermath, it could be different."

There was something about Peeta that made Katniss want to trust in him and what he said, but she couldn't quite do it.

"Maybe I'm right," Peeta said. "Maybe I'm not. We'll probably never know. We'll just keep dying in our own districts and in the arenas without getting to speak to each other."

He made a noise of frustration.

"But I can't shake how close escape feels now that I've seen those woods and what they can give us that we could never get here."

It wasn't as if Katniss had never thought about it. The woods provided most of her family's food as it was, and if they took Lady, then they could even have a supply of dairy too. The only thing they'd need was shelter, but finding that wasn't what worried Katniss.

The Capitol might have excused her frequent trips into the woods, but if she didn't come back, she had no doubt that, for once, there would be consequences. Peeta was right in saying that the real reason for the fences was keeping them isolated. As long as they didn't seek out others, they were safe.

"It's suicide," she said decisively. "No one would be able to make it out there, no matter how well they know the woods."

"I know," Peeta said quietly, "but it's a tempting dream. And I won't be able to stop thinking about Marvel and what they're doing to him."

"Before you get too caught up in feeling sorry for him," she said, "remember what he did in that arena. He didn't just kill to survive, Peeta. He was enjoying it."

"Yeah, I know. That's why seeing him like this is jarring. I'm not saying I feel sorry for him exactly… I just want to know what's happening to him."