I lie on the bed with my eyes clenched closed, trying to ignore the sticky substance leaking out of me. I feel Peeta moving above me, moving off of me, away from me. I don't know what he's doing; I can't convince myself to open my eyes yet to find out. I prefer it here in my dark world, where at least I can pretend I didn't have to go through what I just went through, even if it's just for a few blissful seconds. Before the sickening voice of our patron brings me back to the dark reality.

"Very nice," she says, as though she were observing some sort of performance. Which, I guess, in a way, she was. This woman didn't join in, just as the first man hadn't. She only sat there and watched us. It shouldn't surprise me that the Capitol is full of voyeurs. Not when watching us fight to the death is the highest form of entertainment for them.

"I paid through Snow's people earlier," she tells us. I hear her stand up, and walk across the room. She hadn't participated in her own way, either, like the man had. She remained fully clothed the entire time. I can't imagine what her motivation was here, in just watching us go at it. But at least she wasn't as nasty as the man had been.

Finally, I risk opening my eyes. Peeta still stands before me on the bed, start naked and limp as he watches her. I wonder how he manages to do that, to stand so freely in front of someone who has no business seeing him in such a state. It reminds me that I, too, am fully exposed. It's this thought that makes me sit up at last, if only to attempt to cover myself, even if there's no real point to it by now.

The lady is standing there, next to the doorway exiting her small apartment. She watches us pointedly, one hand stretched out, resting on the doorknob. She wants us to get dressed and leave. I have no problem with that plan. I move off the bed, expecting to feel as sore as I did the last time we did this, but to my surprise, I feel almost normal. I do feel a bit sore, but it's nowhere near as bad as it was then. I find my clothes, and dress quickly.

When I'm done, I finally manage to look directly at Peeta, who is just finishing buttoning up his shirt. He looks back at me. "You might want to smooth your hair," he mutters, glancing up at the top of my head, where I realize my hair is probably completely ruffled. For a second, I feel bad for my prep team, knowing their hard work has been ruined.

When we're ready, Peeta offers a hand out to me, and I take it. Together, we walk through the door without even another word to the lady. What a strange experience. Not that any of this is normal.

At the sound of the door closing behind us, Peeta gently drops my hand. I glance over at him, a little surprised at this action. He's just staring straight ahead, a hardness in his eyes. We walk silently to the end of the hall, until we reach the elevator. We step on, and Peeta hits the button taking us back to the main floor, back to the party. As we step off, I stop in my tracks. Peeta, a few steps ahead of me, feels my hesitance and turns back to face me, a questioning look on his face.

"I want to go to the bathroom," I tell him. "I have to freshen up." I can't live with this residue between my legs. Really, I would prefer to take a shower, but even if there were one available for guests, the last thing I want to do is get undressed again inside this place. The idea that Snow is lurking around here, freely, and that this is where he lives, would haunt me for the entire shower.

Peeta nods, and leads me to where we remember the rest rooms being from when we were here on the Victory Tour. He waits for me outside while I go in. He doesn't have to, and I'm sort of tempted to question it, but I don't. The truth is, I do feel safer with him standing outside on guard.

Inside, groups of women standing around talking. Their garish costumes make me sick. In their hands, I see some of them holding those same glasses of clear liquid that make you sick that my prep team introduce Peeta and me to during our engagement party at the end of the Victory Tour. That very same party where this whole new nightmare began. As I make my way to the stalls, I can hear the sounds of vomiting coming from behind a few of the closed doors. I try to ignore it, mostly because it's exactly what I want to do right now.

Actually, it's not a bad idea.

Once I'm secured inside a stall of my own, the lock securely latched, I tear off my clothes and, grabbing some wipes, furious beginning scrubbing at myself down there. The remnants of Peeta's orgasm are half dry by this point. I'm desperate to get the reminder of what happened off me, and with tears filling my eyes, I wet the wipe with my own spit and scrub even harder. It's not really necessary to scrub this hard even, it's coming off pretty easily, but for some reason I can't help pressing so hard that my skin turns pink. Finally, the pain becomes too much and I stop. Then I crumple beside the toilet and let the tears come.

I want to begin sobbing. More than anything in the world, I want to let out everything inside of me until I pass out, and can escape this horrible night. At least until the nightmares come. But I'm still with it enough to know I can't do that. I shouldn't do that. Because if I make it too obvious I'm crying, the other women in this bathroom will hear me, and then they'll ask what's going on. When they find out it's me… well, it'll be a media nightmare I don't want to deal with. And I can only imagine what President Snow would do with that, how angry he would be that I'm blowing my cover. Or maybe it'd be the opposite. Maybe he'd be happy he could show to the entire nation he's broken me. Just the thought of that alone is enough to make me pull myself back together, to keep my tears quiet enough that no one else in here detects what's going on underneath their own nose.

But the emotions are overwhelming, and finally I give in. Hunching over the toilet, I wretch out everything I've eaten in the last twelve hours. Over and over I hurl. It's satisfying in a way, that I can do this. At least no one will come knocking, asking questions they're better off not asking.

I don't know how long I'm in there like this. After a long, long, long time, I remember Peeta is waiting for me. I wipe my mouth off and flush the toilet, cleaning myself up the best I can, then push out of the bathroom stall. I'm care not to make eye contact with anyone else, and I'm grateful when I manage to escape unnoticed.

Back outside, I see that I'm right about Peeta. There's panic in his blue eyes as they lock onto mine. He begins to move to me, then stops in his tracks with a lurch. "Are you okay?" He asks. It's a stupid question, because of course I'm not okay, and I can see by the look in his eyes even as he's asking that he realizes this as well.

"Let's just get back," I mutter, and push past him to the hall that leads back to the main dancefloor.

The rest of the night is uneventful. We stay until well past midnight, then Effie whisks us away back to the training center. I practically collapse into my bed, and pray for the escape of oblivion.

By the time the next morning comes around, I'm not much more rested than I was the night before. Just as I suspected, nightmares kept me awake half the night, of the arena, of prying eyes watching me in places where they don't belong. Feeling groggy, I wonder if we're starting back home today.

Unfortunately, the nightmare continues. "We leave tomorrow," Effie informs us at breakfast. "You have the day free to do whatever you would like, but be back here by five. We have another engagement to attend tonight." My eyes find Peeta's, and I see he's thinking the same thing that I am: we're already signed up for another round of this hell.

Other than Effie, no one talks during breakfast. Haymitch looks as though his night were almost as bad as ours. He's clearly drunk. Whether he started drinking again as soon as he woke up, or just never stopped drinking from last night, I'm not sure. I realize, for the first time, that I'm jealous. Jealous that he at least has this escape. What do I have to alleviate this nightmare? Nothing. I wonder if he would considering sparing a drink. I've only tried alcohol one other time, that time before the Games on the night of the tribute parade. I didn't like the way it made me feel then. Now I think I would welcome it.

Everyone dwindles out of the room one by one. I've barely touched my own breakfast, but after pushing it around on my plate for a good forty-five minutes, I finally give up and head back to my room. The first thing I do is take a shower. Now that I think about it, I'm not sure why I didn't take one last night, but I guess I was in such a state after everything that all I wanted was to crawl under the covers and hide from the world. Now, though, I punch in settings; as the steam from the warm water engulfes me, I finally let my body relax somewhat. I stay in there as long as I can handle it, then change into the most simple clothes I can find, and lie down on the bed.

Given that we're supposed to have the day to ourselves, I'm surprised when I hear the knock on my door. Maybe it's Effie, come with further instructions for tonight, or Haymitch with… who knows what. But somehow I doubt it's either one of them.

I'm right. When the door opens, I see exactly who I expect to see standing there: Peeta. I raise my eyebrows as him in question, but don't say anything.

"I think we should get out for a little bit," he says.

"What?" It's not what I was expecting, though I really wasn't expecting much of anything.

He nods. "It would be good for us."

I don't really know what to say. Escaping this building, if even for a little bit, and getting some fresh air in my lungs would do me a world of good. "You mean to the roof?" I ask him.

"No," he says. "Out exploring."

"Can we even do that?" We're not captives here like we were for the Games, at least not as far as I know. But I also don't believe for a minute that Snow would allow us the freedom to roam the Capitol streets by ourselves. Not considering how valuable we are. Not when we're at risk for causing so much trouble.

Peeta shrugs. "We can ask, can't we?"

Effie is surprisingly open to the idea. "We can just arrange the proper escort to accompany you," she tells us. "I'd go with you myself, but I have other things I must attend to."

An hour later, Peeta and I find ourselves out among the Capitol citizens. A group of security officers trail us, careful to blend in with the crowd so as not to draw attention. It's not total freedom, but it's better than nothing. It's certainly better than dragging Effie everywhere with us.

"Where would you like to go first?" Peeta asks me.

I just shrug. "Nowhere in particular," I tell him. I can't think of a single thing in this place I would want to subject myself to right now.

"Me neither," he admits. He chances a discreet glance over his shoulder, assessing the location of our guards. Then, in a lower voice, he adds, "I just really needed to get out of there."

That makes two of us. I'd be happy never to return, and I know Peeta would be as well, but it's far too dangerous to make that escape now. There's too much at stake; too many people would be left behind who would be made to pay for our running. I know it's better to wait until after we get home, when the time is right and we can take everyone with us and disappear into the woods. But maybe with this precious time away from everything, I can at least think things through a little more. Work on a plan.

The streets of the Capitol are full of so many strange things, so many shops the likes of which we would never see back home in District 12. We wander in and out of a few of them, taking the unique wonders that they offer, but not really paying too close attention. I'm a little preoccupied with our situation to really care that much. But Peeta seems to enjoy a few things. He picks up a couple of items that pique his interest, studying them closely. I watch him as he examines them. When he seems particularly enthralled in a piece of art, he gets a look on his face that suggests there's another world tucked away inside of him completely.

As we're exiting one shop, he comes up next to me, leaning closely so he's only a few inches away from my ear. It makes me want to pull away, because being touched still makes me feel uncomfortable. But there's an urgency in his demeanor, and I can tell he wants to tell me something he doesn't want the guards to hear. So I force myself to stay where I am.

"Think we can lose them?" he mutters.

I look at him, shocked. Peeta has already proven by now that he's not as complicit as I previously thought. But this is more than even I would have dared to try. To lose our guards? It seems unthinkable.

"How?" I hiss back at him. I force myself to stare straight ahead, not daring to look back at them in case they figure out that we're discussing them. And if they can tell we're discussing them, it probably wouldn't be too hard for them to figure out what it is we're discussing. Which is exactly why this is so risky.

"I don't know," he admits. "But keep your eyes open for any opportunity."

As it turns out, a very easy opportunity presents itself shortly after. All down one street, a farmer's market takes up the entire block. It's hard to imagine that these people would actually consider growing their own food. But it turns out they're not so much selling the vegetables and fruits that one might see on market day back in 12, or even the berries and things that Gale and I might trade in the hob. They're selling produce I don't even recognize. Brightly colored things, as unnatural and bright as the city is itself.

"What is this?" Peeta asks a vendor as we wander by. The vendor offers up a name I know I've never heard before. But I think he must recognize us - how could he not, when our faces have been plastered all over the Capitol and on TV since last summer - because he offers up an explanation. They're genetically modified, like the muttations created in the Capitol labs. Evidently this is what the people in the Capitol grow for fun. Since running out of food is never a fear for them.

But I'm glad right now that they do. Because the crowd this place attracts is perfect for getting lost in. Peeta and I weave our way in and out of crowds and standings, carefully maneuvering our way through, trying our best to discreetly gauge our entourage as we do. They're there still, following us, but I can tell they're having a hard time keeping up. I barely have time wonder if they're on to our game, when Peeta roughly grabs my hand, and pulls me abruptly around a corner.

We press as tight as we can against the wall, ducking down a little so we can't be seen over the crowd. After a minute, we see the guards pass by. They're still looking ahead of them, trying to find Peeta and me in the crowd. So they didn't see us duck down this hallway. Good.

We give it another moment, just to be sure, and then we both let out a sigh of relief. "Come on," Peeta says to me. Our hands are still entwined, so he pulls on me, leading me down the side street that has become our refuge.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

Peeta lets out a short laugh. "I don't know. I've never been here before either, remember?"

Of course. It was a dumb question. "I just meant in general," I say, trying to cover. He just smiles. Something tells me he didn't quite buy it.

We're silent for a while. Down the street a little ways, we come upon a gateway that gives access to a garden. It doesn't seem to be attached to any of the buildings around, and there is no door or gate barring access, but there also isn't anyone in here.

"Can we just go in?" I ask. Then, before he can say it, "I don't expect you to know that answer."

Peeta just laughs.

There doesn't seem to be anyone around, and there are no signs saying otherwise, so I can only assume it's okay for the public to enter. I go in first, and Peeta follows. The garden is beautiful. It reminds me a lot of the one on the rooftop of the training center. Only this one doesn't have a forcefield surrounding it, preventing desperate tributes from ending things on their own terms.

Neither of us say anything for a while as we take it in. This garden is peaceful, almost like the bustling city isn't all around us. It's the first time I've been in the Capitol where I've ever felt anything close to resembling the freedom I only feel when I'm in my woods back home.

It's this thought, and the feeling of freedom from prying ears, that makes me bring it up. "Peeta, if I asked you to run away with me, would you?" I blurt out.

Peeta is caught off guard. He turns to look at me, surprised etched in his features as he studies me, trying to suss out if I'm being serious or not. Of course I'm being serious, I want to tell him. There's no way I could joke about something like this.

"Just you and me?" He asks at last. "No. Of course not. Who else?"

"My family. Yours, if you can get them to come with us. Haymitch."

He's still watching me closely. "What about Gale?"

I think back to our last encounter. How angry he got with me for wanting to bring Haymitch and Peeta along with us to the woods. The way I freaked out on him at the mere touch of his hand. I didn't mean to, but after being sold and basically raped on the Victory Tour, even the brush of his hand was more than I could handle. "I'm not sure," I admit.

Peeta gives me a rueful smile. "I bet."

"What about you?" I prod. "Will you go?"

Peeta looks nervous, and glances around us. I know he's looking for anyone who might overhear this conversation. The garden gives the illusion that we're alone, but really, he's right. You never know when a pair of ears might overhear what we're saying, and report it back to Snow.

"You know that's illegal," he says pointedly.

"You're right," I say loudly. "I guess I was just imagining what it might be like."

"Dangerous," he says just as loudly back. "You know we're safest inside 12's fence."

I drop my voice so it's only slightly above a whisper. Anyone listening in would have to strain to catch what I'm about to say. "I'm serious, Peeta," I tell him. "We have to get away. Fast. As soon as we get back to 12."

Peeta's face looks pained. "I know," he admits.

"You do?" I ask, feeling surprised. That was an easier sell than I was expecting. Though Peeta has actually seen the things I've seen, has been through what I'm going through. So maybe it's not all that much of a surprise at all.

His face grows dark, and his eyes harden. "Do you think I like being forced to do those things to you, Katniss?" he asks gruffly, staring me down. "Do you think I want to violate you like that? Because I hate it!"

I'm startled by the intensity of his conviction. I'll admit, I never really gave much thought to how he was feeling about it. But why wouldn't he feel this way? I know he's been as forced into this as much as I have.

"I'd leave all this behind in a second, if I could," he continues. The fire has gone out of him now, his shoulders slumping as he leans against a highrise garden bed. "Sure, Katniss. I'll go."

"You will?" I'm nearly overcome with relief. So now that's Peeta and my family. Haymitch will be a harder sell, but if Peeta agrees with me, then maybe he can get Haymitch to see reason. I don't know if Peeta's family will agree to this, though. I know it's a horrible thought, but I'd actually be fine with this. I can't imagine being trapped in the woods with Peeta's witch of a mother. I just wanted to bring them along for his sake, because despite everything, I know he loves them. But I'd be just as fine without them.

So that just leaves Gale. And I really don't know if he can be convinced to go, or if he'd want to talk his family into going. Maybe I can talk to Hazelle, convince her to help him listen to reason.

"Sure I will," Peeta says after a minute. "But I don't think for a minute you will."

This makes me angry for some reason. "Then you don't know me! As soon as we get back, be ready. It could be at any time!" I turn on my heel and begin to stomp away.

"Where are you going?" Peeta calls after me. I don't stop or answer. "Katniss! Wait!" I can hear an urgency in his voice that makes me give pause. I hear his footsteps behind me as he catches up. "I really will go, if you want me to. But I don't think you should go back out there yet," he tells me, motioning back outside the garden, to the streets of the Capitol

"Why not?" I snap back, crossly.

"Because it's not safe. Not by yourself, at least," he says. "The guards are going to be mad when we go back. How do you plan to explain to them where we've been?"

"I'll just say I got lost!"

"Katniss," he says, giving me a look. "You're a horrible liar."

"I am not!" I practically shout back at him. I don't even care by this point that anyone could hear us, and find us here arguing over how we're going to cover for our disappearance.

Peeta's thinking the same thing, because I see his eyes dart around, surveying the place, before he answers. "I'm not trying to upset you," he says calmly, clearly trying to mollify me. "But… well, remember when I helped you cover for knowing the avox girl? Or when you tried telling me you weren't planning on going to the feast at the cornucopia during the Games?"

"Remember when I told you it was sugar berries you were eating, and you believed me?" I counter. I see recognition flash in his eyes, and feel triumphant. He had been asleep when I lorded over him that I had lied to his face and he fell for it, but I still know the truth, and he knew it then, too, just like he does now.

"I just think it'll look better if we find our way back together," he says, changing tactics. "Besides… the Capitol is a big place, and we don't know it very well. We very well could get lost."

He's right. I hate to admit it, but I know he is. But I don't want to tell him this, so I just hold my glare in silence for as long as I can manage it.

"So tell me more about this plan of yours," he says casually, turning to examine a nearby flower. He's just trying to get me talking again, that much is obvious. But since I don't really have any better options, and honestly, I'm too tired to stay angry anyways, I go ahead and answer.

"Just that," I say, lowering my voice again. "We wait until things have quieted a little, then take our families one night and slip into the woods."

"And then what?" he asks. He looks genuinely curious, and I have to remind myself that Peeta isn't used to the woods the way that Gale or I am.

"We make a new life for ourselves," I say. "One where we're safe."

Peeta looks troubled. But if something is bothering him about this idea, he doesn't voice it. "Okay," he says simply.

"Okay?" It's not terribly convincing.

He shrugs. "If you think it will work."

"It has to!" I tell him. "It has to, because…" Because I have no other plan to fall back on. And I can't do nothing. Not when so much is at stake.

He's silent for a long while. I watch him as he turns over in his mind whatever it is he's thinking about. I see that look again, that one that hints at what's really going on behind those blue eyes of his. When he finally speaks, he sounds completely unsure. "Are you sure you really want me to go?"

The question catches me so off guard, I have to take a step to steady myself. Not go? "Of- of course. Peeta, this is serious!"

"I know it is," he agrees, nodding. "And maybe it would be safer for you if- if I didn't go."

"What would make you think that?" I ask, feeling a little annoyed. Really, this is no time to be noble. If he stayed behind while I left, then once they realized I was gone, they'd torture him to get information on where I had gone. They might even kill him. No, it would not make things easier if Peeta stayed behind. Not in the least.

"I'd just slow you down with my leg," he tells me. "You know I'm not very fast. Or quiet. Besides, you're way more cut out for living in the woods than I am."

I guess he has a point. But I don't want to admit it, especially not to him. It might vindicate his thoughts to himself, and then what would I do? How could I convince him that he's still wrong, that he has to go regardless? Because I can't leave him behind. It simply isn't an option.

"Maybe it's time we get back," I mutter gruffly instead.

Peeta looks surprised. "You still want to go? We just got here."

"It'll be bad when we get back. Since we ran away and all," I counter.

Peeta just studies me for a minute. Then he lets out a long sigh. "Alright, Katniss. I'll go," he relents. Immediately I'm flooded with relief. "But let's just forget about it for now, okay?" He continues. "Let's just enjoy this time we have now."

"Okay," I agree. And now that I know I've gotten him to agree to go with me into the woods, I find it much easier to do so. We actually manage to steal three hours for ourselves, relaxing in our hidden garden, then we stroll through the streets, exploring the strange shops the Capitol has to offer. I'm in such high spirits by the time the guards finally catch up to us, that not even their anger brings me down. Neither does the fact that I know what waits for us tonight.

Or at least it doesn't until we get back to the Training Center, and find out that Peeta is being sent out on his own.

Hellloooooo everyone! I can't believe it took me another year to update this fic! I'm sorry! RL is always so crazy busy for me nowadays. I look back on what's happened since I last updated this fic, and I honestly can't believe how much has happened since then! Including the final movie in the franchise! NO! Well, we'll just have to keep it alive through fic, won't we? ;) I'm making some serious attempts to write and update more, but you know me. I don't want to make promises I can't keep for the umpteenth time. I know and appreciate how many people look forward to this fic updating though, so for those of you who have stuck around, thank you! Feel free to hold me accountable for future updates. ;)

Thank you, as always, to my bff feeding_geese/bigbigbigday006 for helping me with this!

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