Song Suggestion: Sam Smith-" Nirvana"

Thank You: Lucy Greenhill, Guest, 3vlee, patsgig2114, Rachel, Guest, Beauty422, and HeyBirdy. Thanks for sticking with me!

Give Me a Reason

Katla ate food the next day. Prim figured she would, being starved and all. However, the Carthage family was not above playing dirty to get what they wanted. Hannibal lost control of his temper and shoved a piece of cake in her mouth. She almost choked on it before swallowing. Theodora snapped a picture of her cake smeared face.

Prim didn't think that was how it was supposed to have gone. From what she heard, the girl was supposed to accept the food, not have it shoved it down her throat. But to the Carthage family, the rules were just semantics, and Katla's time of resistance was up.

The picture on the camera was wide-eyed, as if she couldn't believe she lost. Hannibal wasted no time in placing a kiss of happiness on her lips, brushing off the crumbs from the corner of her mouth. It didn't seem to matter to him that she was still unwilling, that she never placed the food in her mouth on purpose. He just seemed relieved it was over.

Prim felt sick to her stomach at the display. She felt the blow to Katla as if it was her own. How could she ever get away, how could she win, if someone as strong-willed as Katla lost? A hand on the small of her back steadied her.

Prim leaned into the warmth out of hand went in circles of comfort, as if he knew seeing Katla upset her.

Prim was grateful for the support and comfort, and she showed it by reaching out to grasp his hand. Their palms matched, warm, calloused, secure.

The day passed in a daze, a hazy fog surrounding her actions. Cato became her shadow, leading her through the steps. Prim had no idea it would affect her in this way.

Prim understood it was not all for Katla. A part of it was selfish, the desire to fight, to escape, to shove the Capitol's expectations and control. It took a while for Prim to realize the feeling was powerlessness.

Utter weakness and paralysis. At every angle she was being torn and prodded to "give in" to "give a chance" to her sister's murderer. To see him as something more than a boogeyman. But it seemed impossible. Cato was too intertwined with fear with her psyche; the removal would damage her more than if she left it alone. For Cato to be forgiven, she would have to face her own demons first, the images in her head of her sister dead with her throat slashed open.

What good was her sister's sacrifice if she couldn't even save herself?

Soon enough it was time to go to bed. Prim walked up the stairs, the thump of her feet in time with her heart, a very lonely sound. As she got further to the next floor, she heard different noises.

Prim didn't mean to see them, but they weren't trying to hide anything. The door stood open.

There she was—Katla- wrapped in Hannibal's embrace. Heat colored her cheeks as it was thrown back as Hannibal's lips attached to the soft skin of her neck.

She didn't seem to be fighting or upset. After all the energy Prim felt in feeling sorry for the girl, she felt a little betrayed and let down.

How could Katla give in so easily after such a heavy fight?

Quickly, the scene became racier, but Prim found she couldn't glance away, in a sick fascination.

Katla sighed and Hannibal gave a little moan, almost a cry at the sound.

"Fuck Katla… you have- you have n-no idea how long—I love—"

"Shut up, you're ruing the mood."

"But wouldn't you like to take things slow, or I… I want to kiss you." Hannibal reached up to kiss her on the mouth, but Katla edged out of the way, pushing his face away with his hands.

"Don't kiss me, you asshole."

"But I thought—"

"I'm going to fuck you, not kiss you. Don't mistake this for anything it's not."

Hannibal's hands, which had been roaming her body, stilled on her hips.

"But—"

"If you say another word, we won't fuck. So what will it be? Do you want to kiss me or fuck me? Time is ticking."

Hannibal gave a growl at that.

"You're such a bitch."

He threw her back so that she smacked against the wall. It didn't seem to faze Katla, because even with the limp associated with her Capitol foot, when he lunged at her, she met him half-way and kissed him anyway.

Clothes starting falling to the floor, first her shirt, then his shirt, then her pants.

Then an arm came out to block her view, pressing against the doorway.

She turned to face Cato, who had a small smile in his eyes.

"I never realized you were a voyeur." He whispered low enough so that only Prim could hear, almost mouthing the words. His words sounded like a silky caress, brushing against the skin. She turned away from him, but reached out and closed the door, turning the knob so it wouldn't make a sound while shutting. Prim continued to face the wall, not having anywhere else to turn.

"I thought she hated him."

His body was behind hers, his breath hitting her shoulder, his hands on her upper arms.

"What does hate have to do with it?" Lips touched against the top of her neck, distracting her. "I thought you already understood that."

"But I thought she would fight him? She just… she just…"

"Gave in?" The lips continued their slow assault, building the temptation to do exactly as he said, "What would be the point of resistance to her fate? She's already accepted the food and clothes. No respectable male would take her now. She'd be an outcast, a whore. Her family would be ostracized too, and for a quarry family that could mean death."

She pulled away from him, turning sharply to face him. Now that her anger has risen, she could concentrate on the conversation instead of on his soft lips, his victor's lips. Even at a distance, they looked full and tempting, and she shivered at the thought of what they were capable of.

"That's just... that's just—"

"Double standard, I know. It's just the way the world works, at least in this district."

"B-But she had a boyfriend."

"Even her boyfriend would reject her after this. She's known this was her fate for a long time; she's known it would always be him. He's always stated his intentions, and any intelligent male would stay out of the way. Make no mistake, behind Hannibal's feigned innocence is a man trained in violence. Most of the district, especially his age, is fully aware of what he can do. The only reason that Nero is volunteering instead of Hannibal is because I refuse to allow him to, and so far the capitol hasn't taken an interest. So no, she had no chance from the beginning, and she's had years to come to terms."

"Are there any other districts that follow this?"

"District 1 and sometimes 4 will allow it too, though 4 think it's barbaric. Here, it's law."

"Why? It's awful."

He smirked as if he found her amusing.

"Maybe, but long ago, my district discovered the only way to produce strong, healthy children was by leaving the spoils to the victors. The Ancients called it natural selection, survival of the fittest."

Ancients? Natural Selection? Survival of the Fittest? At any other time, with any other person, that would have been a start off to an intriguing conversation. She briefly considered it. His knowledge of history seemed to be vast; he knew more than anyone she had ever encountered. Curiosity almost got the best of her, but she cauterized it.

Lowering her arm, she took the chance and attempted to walk past him back to Coral's room. An arm stopped her, curled around her waist, holding her at his side, so that she glanced side-ways at him.

She didn't fight him. A large part of her didn't want to, a part connected to a myriad of emotions she refused to recognize as real.

"Come to my room."

"Give me a reason."

"You'd be helping me save face with my family. You've been with me for months. It's not right for you to stay in Coral's room anymore. Hell, even my own brother, who is basically incompetent at most things in life, managed to get his Manato in bed his first night. I would never hear the end of it."

"And what will you do if I say no?"

His eyes glittered like a devil's.

"I'll carry you over my shoulder." And then he sighed. "Look we don't have to do anything. Just sleep."

A brief smile lit up her face, as she teased him. "I've heard this lie before."

"The last time I didn't touch you."

"Maybe not after Jace, but after my snow escape, you certainly went back on your word. What did you say, again?" She tapped her chin in artificial thought. "Oh yeah: I am a liar and a thief." She mocked his voice.

A wicked smirk tugged at his lips, the one that suggested her knew damn well what he did and what he would do. The words on his tongue were honey and meant to lull her into complacency before he stuck and stripped her of resistance. She knew his game already, and surprise was the primary element.

"On my honor, I won't lay a hand on you tonight." He placed his free hand on his heart in what she assumed was a gesture of deep promise.

Prim searched his eyes for the trick. Finding nothing, she almost nodded her head in agreement. But before she agreed, she had to know one thing. It weighed on her mind lately, and she wanted to hear it spoken aloud to confirm her fears.

"Be truthful with me: why did you take me? Was it just for the capitol?"

He hesitated, letting her go. His boots shuffled back and forth as he paced, tugging a hand through his hair, which curled around his ears with the length.

"I'll tell you, but you have to promise not to overreact."

He waited and she felt the sinking feeling in her stomach.

"Look," the boots stopped pacing, "The capitol never required me to touch you. Not at all. Not ever."

"But Snow—"

"I mean originally, back when I first kissed you. They wanted us married, but they didn't care if we ever shared the same bed. The captiol would have stopped the wedding with your slum rat even if I didn't… But when I heard… I… I was so… It was me who claimed Manato. It was me who raised the stakes. It was me who made it more. Snow was furious with me, especially since I hadn't sealed the deal. I could have lost you."

"I don't understand." She stepped backwards again, thinking of how life would have been different without his kidnapping. She might not have been married to Gale, but maybe eventually…

At least she would have been able to keep her virginity. She wouldn't have had to part with something so precious and give it to the man who killed her sister. Eventually, they could have parted ways, years in the future when the Captiol was tired of their love story.

She swung her wrist to slap his cheek, but he caught it.

"Why?" She sputtered out.

"I could have lost any chance." As if that explained everything. "I never wanted to take a Manato. After Helena…" He stopped and closed his eyes, "But when I saw you, with your hair in a braid, like a halo, waiting anxiously for someone to ask you to dance, not even aware of how beautiful you were… And that dirty miner took your hand, and you smiled at him, as if he had a right to touch you when you were mine." He thumped his fist against his chest. "If I hadn't of… you wouldn't have..." he didn't finish and shook his head, "Now, little bird, no one can touch you but me, by law. We are bonded, bonded deeper than marriage. You will never get away from me. I will always have claim over you. And deny me all you want, little bird, but if you won't let me fuck you, then I can promise you that nobody will either. Ever."

She had thought everything he said before, his obsessive words, his small bouts of tenderness, were all for show, a lie he told her to keep up appearances. But if the Captiol never required him to touch her at the beginning, and he made it so that she would have to anyway… it meant… it meant…

She was afraid of the answer, and it made her heart thump.

"How would they know I ever allowed you to touch me, anyway? Where would be your proof?" She said. It was such an obvious question; she wondered why she never thought of it before.

"I have videos for the authorities if I'm ever challenged."

Videos? He filmed them! She searched around her vocabulary to find a word correct enough to describe the feeling she experienced but came up short. Some emotions couldn't be contained within syllables.

He didn't answer, and she sighed, turning her face away from him and bit her lip.

"Fine," she said, "I'll sleep in your room."

He was right: what did resistance matter anyway? He would get what he wanted like he always got what he wanted.

Following him back to his room, she acknowledged how the sounds of her footsteps were no longer lonely. He opened the door for her, and when he began to undress, she followed his lead, stripping down until her bare skin reflected against the full moon outside. His eyes, dark and lustful, raked over her features and invited her to join him under the soft as flour sheets.

When he kissed her several minutes later, she was not surprised.

"I see you've decided to stay a liar."

"No, tonight I won't lie." He smiled against her lips, sucking the bottom one into his mouth and nibbling, "I promised I wouldn't lay a hand on you, and I intend to keep that promise." He raised his hands and put them on the bed rail, separating her thighs with his knees and building her desire with his lips. When he finally slid inside her, she welcomed him with a sigh. Her hands slid across his back as he thrust until they both shuddered at the same time. Finished, he rolled off her and fell to sleep on his stomach, draping a thick arm across her middle, intent on showing his dominance and ownership even while unconscious. She didn't even notice the drooping of her eyelids, until much later.

She awoke with a jolt, nearly tumbling out of bed with the force. Something she hadn't thought of before wormed its way into her subconscious thoughts.

It was so clear now, what she should do.

I have videos for the authorities if I'm ever challenged.

Was that the only proof he had of their Manato?

If she somehow, some way, found them… and destroyed them… what proof would he have when she finally found an escape. What anchor could keep her here?

Once again hope flared in her chest, and she breathed renewed life into the fragile abstraction.

When she went back to sleep, she dreamed of home.

She dreamed of Gale.

The next morning

The family left the next day. Hannibal and Katla vanished early in the morning before Prim woke up, before she could say goodbye. There were still so many questions she had for her, so many things left unanswered. What she saw the night before burned holes in her brain.

Theodora gave a small air kiss to both cheeks before pocketing two knives against her thighs under a dress in a holster.

"Don't worry darling. We'll see each other again. I'll come and steal you from Cato for Tea Time in a month or so. By that point the snow should be all melted away. And you just wait and see… nothing is as beautiful as District 2 in the springtime." And then they left, bundling themselves into a car, first Cato's parents and then Theodora and Cassius. Cato's mother refused to acknowledge Prim's presence, but his father gave a curt nod in goodbye.

Prim had never, in her whole life, been so ecstatic with a goodbye. She even smiled for the occasion, jerking her wrist back and forth, her cheekbones throbbing with the muscles rarely being used.

It wasn't until they left that Prim realized she would be all alone, stuck in a house for months, with Cato Carthage, a man who confused her. One moment she hated them… the next she wanted him.

As much as she wanted to hate herself, she couldn't deny the way he made her feel, how for a brief moment, she felt complete and buzzed. It was growing to be an addiction, one she couldn't say no to, even if she tried. And god, did she try. But her actions contradicted her as she arched towards him, welcoming the intrusion, the violation of her personal boundaries.

She walked back to the house, sloshing the snow against her shoes.

One Month Later

Theodora was right: the snow was beginning to melt. The icy demonic grip of winter loosening its talons to something sweet and floral. The fecund soil springing to life, shooting up through the ground grasping for sunlight and warmth, sucking in renewal.

A few weeks later she got her period. The appearance left her both elated and disappointed, a weird mixture she didn't delve into. A part of her wanted to be a mother, as much as the logical part of her brain wanted to slap her for the desire.

However, the arrival of her monthly intensified her search for the videos, as if she had received a free pass on life. But it was to no avail. The videos stayed hidden. She assumed they were tucked away in his study somewhere, but he kept it locked both when he was there and when he was gone.

The isolation wasn't as severe as she thought it would be. Five days out of the week they traveled their way to the heart of District 2 to the Girls and Boys Club of Excellent Endeavors, Cato to train the tributes, and Prim to continue her pointless Manato lessons.

Prim hated the place. Around every corner she expected to encounter Jace with his smug smirk and towering hair, his bulk just waiting to rip her limbs off. It took a week for Prim to gather the nerve to bring the subject of Jace to Cato.

It took a long time for him to answer her back, as if searching for the correct thing to say. Finally, he brushed a piece of hair from her face, eyes flicking across her features.

"You don't have to worry about him anymore."

"But—"

"He's learned his lesson. The hard way. Besides, he's back in his district, focusing on Ace. It's getting closer to the games, and anything he teaches him now must be kept top secret to have an edge."

His answers always left several questions, but she left it for now.

After a while, the suffering of training became less with exposure. The lapses of boredom became fewer and farther between.

And they fell into a pattern. It was strange when she realized it, how they danced around each other. Most of the day they spent a part, but the nights were heated and tangled, sometimes he went slow and steady, drawing out their pleasure. Other times he was nearly violent, slamming her around into different positions, stealing her pleasure for himself.

He was still a selfish man, taking from her when he wanted, never bothering to ask her opinion on the matter. But still, she found her own power. It happened late one night. They had just had sex. It had been one of the long, drawn out ones. He had been gentle with her, using his mouth across her body. The soft lips messing with her sanity. After, in an uncharacteristic move by her, she laid her head on his stomach on her own accord, listening to his deep breaths that turned shallow and lurched as she ran a finger along his skin, tracing the scars, the story of his body.

"I hate Mrs. Manniola." She said. It sounded whiny, even to her ears, but he gave a little snort. She heard it in his belly. His hand played with a damp strand of sweat-soaked hair stuck to her forehead, curling it around his finger.

"You're not getting out of training. I don't care how much you hate her. You'll thank me come Tea Time with Theodora and my mother."

"I really, really do." Prim said, turning her head so she could look at him. "I don't hate many people."

Cato sighed and looked at the ceiling.

"I know," he whispered, as if dejected.

Prim wasn't sure at what point she had started to become comfortable with him. It wasn't that her anger had gone away, just the uncomfortable invisible barrier that existed between strangers. And though Prim was unsure whether she hated him now or not, she couldn't deny the silence no longer felt strangled with fear.

"Listen," he said, "I'll make you a deal, alright?"

Prim was always wary of making deals with devils.

"Okay." She said after a period of thought.

"You still have to go to Miss Manners, but I'll let you cut it short early each day to train. I'll give you someone to help with shooting arrows and, I'm sorry, but you're awful with swords, so instead I'll get someone to teach you to throw knives."

Prim almost whooped with joy, until she realized his glaring omission.

"And what will you get out of it?"

He paused and looked into her eyes.

"A smile."

And she gave it to him. It was such a simple thing, and it came easier than she thought it would with practice, especially on her first day getting out of Manners Class early.

It was at that moment where Prim understood her power as a woman, the power of sex and pleasure. If she made Cato happy, then he'd be more likely to listen to her. The thought was startling and disturbing.

Time Goes On and then Stops

She was surprised by her new trainer. It was Lorcan Gabatha, the poor fellow who let her into the training room on her first day in the club. He snarled at her when they met again in the hallway as he escorted her, once again, to the training room. He still held a grudge against her and pushed her hard during their sessions, only lightening up when Cato's eyes were on them.

Though after a few weeks, his boyish charm caved in, and he finally loosened up. She learned a lot of things from him, things she couldn't have learned from Gale, who knew a lot about animals and the forest, but next to nothing of warfare and battle, including the correct placement of her hand on the bow, the weight of a knife in her hand, and how to position her feet for better aim. "Aim for the chest, not the head. You have more chance to make your shot."

In return, she taught him a few things too, things she knew from being a healer: the placement of arteries, how to stop heavy bleeding, how to make a healing ointment for bug bites.

The time passed at a regular pace, and it surprised her with the lapse of weeks. Home became distant, with Coral to fill her days, and Cato to fill her nights. Training gave her a purpose, an enjoyment. And spring time came, slow and melting, but it came. Complacency was an easy thing to learn when a person tried hard enough.

The secrets still filled the hallways of the house. Cato's long absences darkening the hours, minute by minute until she thought she would go mad if it were not for Coral. Sometimes he was gone for just a few days, sometimes longer.

Each time he came home, he ignored her questions, and with his arrival he usually contained an animal ferocity, stalking her, cornering her, ripping her clothes off.

Prim was determined to be strong. Katniss would be, so she would as well. And to her, a part of strength was happiness in tough situations. So she swept the questions and feelings under the rug of her heart, determined to make the best of her situation.

And it worked.

For a little while.

Until he told her that they would be visiting District 12.