A/N – So to be on the safe side, and after a couple of requests, I upped the rating from T to M. Sorry to be so mean to Peeta, I love him as much as you all do, but Suzanne Collins put him through hell as well, so blame her!

I slowly return to consciousness although I do not feel at all well rested. My eyes feel too heavy to open, my mouth and throat feel dry, my head is spinning and my stomach is lurching.

Water…. Need water….

Where am I? Why am I so terribly thirsty? Why can't I open my eyes? I moan slightly, clutch my stomach and roll on to my side. My eyes slowly flutter open to take in my surroundings. I seem to be back in my room in the Capitol, lying naked on top of my bed. I remember being in the hovercar with…..that woman…. But I have no recollection of returning here.

I force myself up in to a sitting position, but the world spins horribly around me and I have to lie back down immediately. I notice something highly odd. An envelope had been placed on my chest as I slept; it was dislodged as I sat up. With my head settled back on my pillow I try to bring my sight in to sharper focus and open the envelope. Inside is a hand written note;

Your behaviour last night was deplorable. When I pay for company for an evening, especially at such a premium price, I expect to have company for an entire evening. I do not expect to have to deal with a drunken, impetuous, angry child unable to even stand, let alone perform in the manner I expect.

See you at the Quell, Peeta.

B

I re-read the note, and my entire world seems to be crashing down around me. Impetuous, angry child? I don't recall anything after the first couple of drinks; after the initial ordeal everything is a complete blur. What have I done? Have I said things that I will live to deeply regret? My stomach flips upside-down and I stagger to the bathroom. I only just make it to the toilet before the contents of my stomach empties. I reach a shaking hand up to my mouth to wipe away the spittle but a certain scent catches my attention. It's her. I can still smell her on my fingers; the stench of her sex is all over me. I heave again and again and again until there is nothing left.

See you at the Quell.

What did she mean? Is she insinuating I'll be back in the arena? Surely that's not possible? Or did she mean that she'll be buying me again when I return as a mentor? My head is pounding and I can't think straight. The world swims sickeningly in and out of focus. I need to clear my head and I need to be clean, to rid myself of the stink of the woman who stole the last vestige of my purity. I crawl to the shower, and turn it on as hot as I can physically bear it.

There are red marks all over my body from where she scratched me. Some of them are quite deep and open up when I scrub myself raw but I don't care, I have to be clean, I have to get every trace of her scent off me.

Not hot enough. I turn the temperature even higher. The water is scalding hot but it feels cathartic. I turn it up further and rest my head against the shower wall, and all at once the weight of the previous twenty four hours comes crashing down on me and my legs will no longer support my weight. I slide to the shower floor and sit there, head in hands, as the scalding water cascades around me. The shower washes my tears from my face as soon as they appear but even when there is nothing left in me the dry sobbing won't stop.

I don't know how long I've been sat here. My skin is burning but it is nothing to the hollow pain I feel in my chest. I want to close my eyes and be able to open them as someone else, someone who doesn't have to feel the way I do. All of a sudden the water stops and I think it must have an automatic cut off but a hand gently touches my shoulder. I flinch at the touch and cannot bear to open my eyes, and the touch is withdrawn. Moments later a warm, dry towel is draped around me, and a voice, the only one that could bring me back whispers my name. "Peeta?"

I look up in to her face. Her eyes show concern as she helps me to my feet and leads me back to the bedroom. Being away from the scalding hot water my body soon begins to shake and shiver with the relative cold. She wraps me in the duvet and crouches in front of me.

"You promised you'd come back," she says. "You didn't."

"I'm sorry," I mumble back.

"I wasn't accusing you," she responds. "I was worried. You didn't come back. It felt like hours until my room was unlocked and I searched for you. I asked Haymitch, he didn't know but helped me look. No one would tell us where you were. I kept trying your room, but it was locked. I knocked and knocked, I called for you, but there was no reply. And I kept thinking that if you had come back, you'd come for me. But you didn't. I went to bed, but I couldn't sleep, and through the night I kept coming back here and trying your room but it was always locked. Then just now I saw steam escaping from under the door. I knew you had to be inside but you didn't hear me calling. Haymitch got a new key from Effie, and we saw you in here. We called your name but it was like you couldn't hear us. He was furious when he saw you, I can't believe you didn't hear him shouting. I think he may have gone to kill Effie."

There are so many things I want to say. I want to tell her what happened to me, but to do so means reliving it, which I am not yet ready to do. I want to warn her, but I don't want her to be fearful of the future. I want to tell her about the ominous note I received, but I am frightened of what her reaction may be. So I say the only words I can. "Hold me. Please."

She sits up on the bed beside me and puts her arm out. I place my head in her lap and she gently starts to stroke my hair, and all at once I begin to feel vaguely human again. We stay in silence in this gentle embrace until our reverie is disturbed by the sounds of ineffectual protest.

Haymitch appears pushing Effie in front of him. "There!" he snarls, pointing to me. "Look at him! Proud are you? What this place does to kids?"

"I…..I didn't…"

"Don't tell me you didn't know, you knew exactly what would happen to him."

"I've never been involved in anything like this before!"

"Sure, sweetheart. You don't sell kids. You just send them to their death."

"Well, I nev-"

"Yeah, yeah," he cuts her off. "Get outta here, I don't even want to look at you."

She scurries away looking highly affronted. Haymitch looks at me and says, "You ok?"

I try and sit up but my skin is burning. I collapse back on to Katniss's lap and say, "You shouldn't have said that, Haymitch."

He smirks in response, "Effie and me have a mutual understanding. I understand how much she hates me, and she understands how much I hate her. She has skin as thick as that of an aged elephant. Anything I say bounces right off her." He tosses a tube of medicinal cream towards me. "You should get some of that on your skin before it blisters."

With Katniss's help I sit up. She peels back the duvet and towel and helps treat me. There are patches of skin that are red raw and I can already see small lumps forming in some areas. She applies a layer of cream and it stings terribly for a second before it feels incredibly soothing. The lumps disappear almost instantly. She pauses over some of the deeper scratches on my chest. "What happened to you?" she asks.

I am not ready to answer this yet. I look down towards the ground and whisper to Haymitch, "Why didn't you warn us?"

He is silent a moment then has the good grace to look ashamed. He collapses in an arm chair and says, "I thought they'd leave you alone. You two being such a golden couple and all. I guess I was wrong."

"I guess you were."

"Peeta, what happened to you?" Katniss demands again. I still can't answer and blink away the memories.

"Did they do this to you too? Do they still?" I ask Haymitch.

He snorts. "Would you pay for me? No, I escaped that. I had no one they could use as leverage against me. Someone tried to buy me once. I told them where to stick it. Wouldn't be surprised if that's exactly what they did."

"Peeta, what-"

"Oh come on, sweetheart, do we really have to spell it out for you?"

She looks at me questioningly, horror underlying the implication. I blink away the tears, and this confirms what she suspected but simply refused to believe. She looks at me, disgust etched in every line of her face, and my heart breaks in to a thousand fragments. "I didn't want to!" I protest.

She takes a deep breath and resumes her treatment of my skin. "I know."

"Who was it?" asks Haymitch.

I shudder at the thought of her and am uncertain I can even bring myself to say her name. "Baxwall," I choke out.

"Baxwall? Briar Baxwall? Fuck…..You deserve a medal."

"You know her?"

"Yup. She's very rich, and very vicious. Has crazy mood swings. One second she'll be mewling like a little kitten, but say the wrong thing and in a heartbeat she becomes a rabid dog. You'll get used to having to schmooze up to her as a mentor. She's rich enough to make or break someone's games for them. She pretty much single-handedly paid for everything at your Feast last year."

"I don't ever want to see her again."

"Sorry kid, that isn't an option."

I want to tell them both everything, how I blacked out from too much drink, how I awoke here with the threatening message but I can't. I can't seem to form the words to admit to them what I may have done. I don't want to see their disappointment in me.

Katniss has moved behind me and is treating the skin on my back. "I need something else for these cuts," she says in a strained, concerned voice. I am sure she's trying to change the subject, and I welcome it.

"How does it look?" I ask.

"Painful. I'd like to get you home and get mum to look at this. I don't trust the doctors here. What did she make these cuts with?"

"Her nails, I'm guessing?" asks Haymitch. I nod affirmation.

My legs are starting to itch. I think I'm beginning to blister along the top of my thighs. I take the tube from Katniss and start to treat myself to save her the embarrassment of her looking at me naked again directly. The places I treat myself don't feel anywhere near as good as the places that Katniss had treated. I vocalise this and remind her she is a natural healer after all. She sighs and says she has done all she can. We are taking the train back to District 12 tonight and she tells me to make sure I visit her mother. She shifts to leave but I grab her wrist and ask her to stay. We don't have to go anywhere today until we catch our train but I don't want to be alone. Haymitch says he will leave us to it and closes the door behind him. We lie down together in each other's arms saying nothing, doing nothing, just being together. In time I will tell her everything about my ordeal, about the note, but for now I will take my comfort where I can.