Thank you for your Reviews! It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside to see people taking interest in my writing \ ^_^ / Now, I'd just like to make a little disclaimer before I let you have it – the TRAIN RIDE.

I know I said Monday – but I'm not going to be getting to a computer tomorrow :P

I do not own Hunger Games. There, I said it. I thought it would rude if I did not mention that :-) And I realize that I'm not the only writer here on Fanfiction that has written a Peeta-Katniss role reversal story, and I would like to state that if you see any similarities, they are UNINTENTIONAL. And I apologize if I do.

Lastly, I AM trying to stick to HG– but I'm getting carried away. There will be Interviews and alliances – but opinions may change and so do names – maybe even extra SCENES? Maybe. ;) I'm putting a lot of little twists into this story that do not match any trends in the HG book.

Now, I'm shutting up.

Here's the train ride. ENJOY

The next moments are nothing but a blur. People snap pictures of Katniss and me as we walk by, surrounded by a thick wall of Peacekeepers escorting us to say goodbye to our families. Katniss has yet to let go of my hand, and I'm thankful for that. Every step away from the square feels heavier and heavier. I feel as though she's practically dragging me along now. The muscles in my knees keep locking up in protest – they know that we are heading the wrong way. Home is the complete opposite direction.

But I'm not going home.

I'm going to the Capitol.

We're thrown into separate rooms. I hear Peacekeepers addressing a group of visitors with regulations and standards about visiting through the door– they have four minutes. The first person to bust through the doorway is Prim, crashing into my arms – a fresh, new wave of tears in the works.

"Peeta –," she begins, but I shush her. I stroke her hair as she cries. I see my mom slink in from the hallway, looking guiltier than I'd ever seen anyone in my life.

Good. She should be.

When Prim pushes away from my hold, she reaches into her pocket and pulls out a primrose for me. She presses into my hand with a sniffle and says, "Just- just try to win, okay? If you can?"

I nod. "Of course."

"You can hunt," she continues, rubbing away tears. "You're smart and fast. I bet the others aren't as quick as you."

I smile at the comment and aid her in wiping her cheeks. "I bet you're right, little duck. I'll try to win. For you." She gives me a small smile and throws herself back at me. Her next words are hard to make out, but I do, even muffled by my shoulder. "Keep Katniss safe?"

I swallow, knowing that it would be hard to keep both promises – maybe even impossible.

But I mean it when I respond, "Always."

My mother moves closer then, wringing her hands.

"Is that the girl? The one who – who volunteered?"

I can't control the narrowing of my eyes.

"Katniss," I snap. "Yes. She volunteered for Prim."

Her shoulders sag, looking more exhausted than ever. I'm not sure if she even tried to comb her hair this morning. I remove Prim from my grasp to stand in front of my mother, looking into her eyes – her hollow, dead, blue eyes and I snarl.

"You can't keep doing this. You have to wake up. I'm not here to save her anymore – Katniss isn't here anymore. You got it?" I wanted to add that she should start being a mom for once, but the tears that welled up at the brim of her eyes made me stop myself.

"Don't cry," I beg, hugging her too. "Don't – Don't cry –,"

A rude knock on the door interrupts. "Time's up."

I kiss my mother's cheek, and then Prim's before the Peacekeeper brutally throws them out. I shudder at the thought that this was the last time I'd see them. I scream an 'I love you' through the door, and hear muffled one in reply from Prim.

And now, I'm alone again.

But not for long.

Madge stumbles through the door, looking healthy and terrified.

"Peeta, I'm so sorry –," she whispers, hugging me to the point where it's hard to breath. She's close to losing it – but she doesn't let go.

"Don't apologize," I say coldly. "There's nothing you could do."

She nods – she knows that. We all know that, and if I'd been a girl and she was still in the Reaping age – I knew she wouldn't have hesitated to step in.

But I wasn't a girl, and Madge was over eighteen. No use worrying about 'What If's.'

"You can do this, Peeta," she pulls away after an awkwardly long silence. "You're better than you think. Find some knives, maybe even a bow – you're good with those," she notes.

"But what if they don't have them, Madge," I stress. "You remember the 68th Games – nothing but flails." I'd sat with her at my house, cringing every time I watched a tribute be brutally bludgeoned to death. The Gamemakers found the deaths boring due to lack of variety, and since then, they've made sure to include at least more than two types of weapons, but that didn't mean anything. They could hand out sticks and rocks for all I know.

"Then make them, dummy," she snorted. "I taught you how."

"But they're people. I can't – I mean, I won't –,"

She puts a hand on my shoulder, stopping my rambling.

"There will be a time and a place in that arena when they won't be people anymore," she whispers. "You've seen it. They'll turn into animals, acting on pure survival instinct. Keep you head level and think of them as the way they are. Animals. You can kill animals."

It was unbelievably cold of her to say – yet it was true. I could kill animals – and these people would be trying to kill me, too. Maybe I could let go and forget –

But then after the Games are over – the slim chance that I win – what will happen? I'll live with an aching, heavy soul for the rest of my life knowing that there are families grieving somewhere.

Katniss' family.

"Time's up."

Madge gives me a small smile and grasps my hand in hers.

"Come home."

"I'll try," I let go of her hand to give her one last hug. "Don't let them starve, Madge."

She breathes in reply, "I won't."

And then I'm alone with my thoughts again, ready to pull my hair out.

Katniss –

I can't even begin to wrap my head around what she's done – She'd done something that no one in a million years would do. It wasn't fair, none of this was fair. She was my guardian angel – my sweet, caring angel.

Angels couldn't die...could they?

"We have to leave."

A short, stocky Peacekeeper barged in, holding the door open for me.

And so we left, escorted hurriedly by Peacekeepers to the train station. It all happened so fast that I didn't have time to think about what I was doing and where I was going. Everything was clouded. I felt like I was floating - I wanted to fly away –, the only thing keeping me tethered to this earth was the touch of Katniss' hot hand squeezing mine tightly, so I stayed.

We were prodded into a diner cabin. The car alone was fancier than anything in The Seam and most of the Merchant's land. It had a glass chandelier and an extravagant rug that lay under the mahogany table. It wreaked of Capitol design – especially since the color scheme in here seemed to be a demented green. I think it was made to be comforting – maybe reflect the lush forests of 12, but it made me think of garbage cans and dead Christmas trees.

Katniss noticed my distress and stroked the back of my hand with her thumb, smiling. "At least it's not pink."

And I chuckled. It felt...wrong. Was it okay to laugh? I wasn't going to be laughing in a few days – maybe not even breathing.

Enjoy the little things, Peeta. While you can.

Like now for instance, even in all this mess, I still couldn't help the sensation of butterflies in my stomach at the thought – Katniss Everdeen was holding my hand, and hadn't let go yet. How many times have I dreamed of this kind of moment? Drawn it on notebook paper during History where I sat behind her?

I'd never drawn scenery around us, but now I can safely picture it in my head.

The two of us in a diner car on the way to the Capitol.

Picture perfect.

Effie shuffled in then, Haymitch trailing behind, groaning and bumping into things in the process. Her eyes were sad and tired – even I could see that behind the pounds of gummy makeup. I wonder how easy this job is for her? I can only assume the paychecks are good, being a Capitol occupation and all. But I can't help but think about how she must feel after the Games are done.

It's no secret that 12's don't typically last, especially merchants. In inner districts, like 2, that are close to the Capitol, they train for this kind of thing. The Hunger Games are exciting there – honorable even. Kids constantly volunteer, but not for the reasons that 12's do. It's probably hard to see the kids you care for before the Games get slaughtered on television.

Then, I remember that I'm one of her kids – that I might get slaughtered.

I could hunt already; it gave me a fair advantage. But Katniss wouldn't know what to do with a bow and arrow if she was handed one, and my chest tightened at the thought.

How long would she last? Would I be able to protect her?

Effie laid hands on our shoulders, giving us a small smile.

"I'm so proud to have tributes like you," she said mostly to Katniss.

Katniss patted the hand that rested on her shoulder. "Thank you."

Effie cleared her throat, shoving away any emotions that must have been catching up with her. "Haymitch, here, will help you. He'll instruct you – give you tips for the arena." She walked over to where he was slumped over in his chair, practically drooling on himself and gave him a solid thwack on his head with her clutch. "Get up, you moron. Kids are here." And she stormed out.

Katniss' grip on my hand tightened unexpectedly. From the look on her face, I don't think she'd realized she'd done it. Her eyes were trained on Haymitch, who had slumped over to a bowl of fruit and at the moment, was having a blast trying to figure out how to peel an orange – grunting and even swearing at it, clearly more intoxicated than earlier today. In the midst of his issues, he glanced up at us, raising his eyebrow.

"So," he began, "You've been sucked into the Hunger Games. Congratulations." The last part is obviously sarcastic, his face twisted in an amused expression. He goes on, "Guess you're stuck with me." He bites down on his orange, not fully peeled and grimaces. "Skins don't taste good."

Katniss holds out her free hand for the fruit – Haymitch giving it up without hesitation

She's dropped my hand now, and the loss of contact makes the cabin seem suddenly cold.

Katniss peels quietly for a while and then says, "So, you got a strategy for us?"

"Yeah," he pauses to take a swig from the copper flash in his hand. "Don't die."

"That's not helpful," I bark, irritated.

"Well, excuse me, princess. I didn't realize we had royalty in our presence." He gives a dramatic bow, almost falling over in his drunken state. I see Katniss smile, eyes still focused on the orange which she had managed to rid of its skin.

She stretches her hand out to him – offering the orange up, but jerks it back when he grabs for it.

"Talk," she spits. "Oranges for secrets."

Damn. Who would have guessed Katniss was a dirty negotiator?

Haymitch pouts, not particularly effective for a man like him, but sits down with huff – agreeing.

"I like you, you know," he muses to Katniss. "You've got – spunk."

She raises an eyebrow at him, much like he did to us. "Yeah? And how will that work to my advantage in the arena?"

He rubs his hands over his face like it's supposed to sober him up and groans.

"Sponsors," he mumbles. "If you get people to like you, you live longer. They'll send you little goodies if you give them what they want." He leans in and whispers, "A good show."

She twists the orange in her hands contemplatively. "Okay –"

"Okay?" I hear myself say. "No, what else? There's got to be more!"

Haymitch glares at me. "Would you give me a minute to wake up?" he huffs. "And for your information, princess, there isn't – not really. When you get in there, you find yourself some water and shelter, maybe an ally. Other than that – you rely on strength and personality." He looks me up and down, "And if I had to guess, I'd say you're lacking in that second thing."

Katniss makes a sound of disgust. "He's kind to those who deserve it." Her eyes might as well be shooting actualdaggers at Haymitch.

The response must have caught Haymitch off guard because his mouth is hanging open. Maybe he isn't used to tributes giving him attitude like this, but then again, he probably hasn't met anyone like Katniss before.

I can tell by his face that whatever liking Haymitch had for Katniss is now gone.

I do have to admit, I'd heard more shocking things leave Katniss' mouth in the past five minutes than I'd heard in my entire life. Maybe there was more of a dark side to Katniss Everdeen than I thought.

She sounded pretty determined to fight this thing out – she didn't want to die first in the arena, which was for sure. No one does. But her plans for winning – ?

"Okay, now you're starting to piss me off, Sweetheart," he says, serious. He extends his hand to her. "Can I just have my damn orange back?"

She tosses it to him, his face lighting up slightly. He bites into it. Juice drips down his chin and onto his shirt – mixing with the booze stains already there. The sight is slightly upsetting in an animalistic way – like watching a dog that's been starved and beaten get his belly scratched for the first time in a long time.

He wipes his chin but misses a few strings of pulp. "You –," he points at me. "Are a real piece of work. You know that?" he sniffs lightly. "You better learn how to smile, or you're as good as dead." The words shouldn't sting, it's critical advice – but it does. I try to smile often as possible. The days are hard though, especially today, and right now, I'm not really feeling it.

"And you," he glares at Katniss. "Cut that out – whatever it is you're doing, because it's annoying. No one likes a bitch," he spits.

I open my mouth to argue, but it's Katniss that interrupts.

"I am not a bitch," she growls. "I'm just being clever and that makes you mad." Haymitch looks into his hand and frowns. "And Peeta does smile and treat people kindly. You just aren't really making a good impression, Mr. Abernathy."

"No one likes a know-it-all," he corrects. "You've got a pretty face, sweetheart. But being too intelligent doesn't look good. In fact," he brings his hand to his chin, thinking. "Pretending to be stupid might be endearing to sponsors – yet misleading to other tributes." His eyes narrow again. "Maybe you should try it out for size."

"Enough," I cut in. The bickering duo stares at me like maybe they'd forgotten I was here. "Those are terrible ideas. Katniss just needs to be herself. People will love her."

Katniss gives me a soft smile and I give one in return – I feel like we might actually be having a moment until Haymitch starts nagging again.

"Sure, they will, Princess," he takes another swig. "Just worry about yourself, okay?" And then he's gone, stumbling and mumbling away out of the room.

Katniss sighs – I can tell she's stressed. She sits down next to me on the couch with her face in her hands. "Well, that was pleasant," she chuckles without humor.

"I fear that this is the best we're going to get out of Haymitch," I sigh. She looks at me and shrugs – the beginning of a frown starts to settle over her soft features.

"Maybe," she looks down at my hands in my lap and takes one in hers again. My heart's beating like there's no tomorrow. "Or maybe he's just having an off day."

We certainly were.

It'd been maybe twenty minutes tops of me and Katniss sitting silently hand in hand when Effie marches back in. She looks more collected and calm than before. Maybe it's the lack of Haymitch. I know it's calmed me.

"Your rooms are in the next car," she says, pointing towards the door. "You can go change into new clothes if you'd like. Just be ready for dinner in an hour." Effie leads the way as we ghost behind her, peering into the rooms as we pass. The size of the train is absolutely ridiculous. It irks me to know that while these Capitol people are riding around in mansion trains that District 12 is living inside a crumbling world filled of starvation and disease.

Effie pushes a door open and tells me this room is mine. I go in to examine it, skeptical. The walls are a soft blue – as is everything else. The bed looks soft enough to sink into and never resurface, and the giant window on the far side of the room allows me to stare at the mountains outside. I'd always known they were there – but never before have I ever gotten to stare at them. They look really old from this stand point, even slightly menacing. They were the only thing separating us from the rest of the world.

I take my time redressing. A soft cotton shirt and comfortable pants are the first things I see at the top of the first drawer, and they match fine, so I put them on.

Katniss emerges at the same time as me, looking stunning in some yellow shirt-dress and hair spilling over her shoulders – something rare. She looks like she might not even be from twelve anymore – healthy and glowing.

And I can't stop staring at her. Not at all – not even during dinner, even when they bring out course after course of the most delicious food I've ever seen or tasted.

Effie and Katniss carry most of the conversation. Effie talks about all the breath-taking sights of the Capitol and how wonderful of an opportunity this is, even if for the wrong reasons.

And Katniss has quite the wicked sense of humor – they're mostly a bunch of commentary one-liners that get even poor, old Haymitch teary-eyed – but she tells all these stories about the bakery.

She tells the story of how she and her deceased brother, Gale, took two of her piglets from the pen outside and let them loose inside – but not before painting the numbers 1 and 3 on them, letting her mother run around frantically trying to find the pig number 2.

It took her seven hours to realize there never was a third one.

I can tell from her face when she mentions Gale's name that it's hard for her. I'd never met him really – I guess I'd heard stories from my mom about him, how much he was like his father.

It hurts me to see how badly she's still hurting, almost a decade later. So when I see her eyes get glassy, I squeeze her hand and she smiles for me.

Some of her stories of adventuring with Delly Cartwright shock me a little – and I'm not going to repeat them. Katniss played a pretty innocent role in most them. It was mainly her trying to rescue Delly from awkward confrontations with her admirers.

I hadn't realized how creepy Merchant boys were until now.

I don't think I will ever look at them the same again.

The dinner makes me forget where I am for a while, and it's nice. But the entire time Katniss is talking, I can't help but think about how I wished that I'd tried to court her somehow– and how this train symbolizes my cowardliness.

And now I'll never get to take her out on a first date. Call her my girlfriend. Properly introduce her to my mother.

Kiss her.

"What's your deal?" Haymtich asks, jabbing his fork at me. Katniss had excused herself from the table to take a shower, leaving me alone with Rainbow Lady and the Drunkard.

"What do you mean?"

"You were staring at her," his gaze darts over to Katniss' room. "It seems as though you maybe would like to eat something else for dinner?"

I feel my face heat up. My hand clutches the fork so tightly in my fist I might be warping the metal.

"Haymitch –," Effie chastises. "Leave the poor boy alone. I'm sure he's tired."

He interrupts. "No, it's...good." Haymitch leaves it at that and stumbles over to mini bar to fill up his glass. "But you do seem tired, princess. Why don't you get some shut eye? Tomorrow we're talking strategies and you got a long day of makeovers ahead of you."

So I take his advice and lay in my bed, but I don't sleep, I think. I feel like I actually stayed awake the entire night.

The only thing that makes me think that I might have fallen asleep is a dream I had – of Katniss and me lying out in the sun in a meadow of flowers.

Yeah, I must have been asleep.

I find myself running out of time and falling behind in the next chapter. Next update may be a while :P I'm currently in school right now. I had to take a summer course so I can fit my band and choir classes in...So, updates may not be as frequent.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I feel as though the ending was rushed though, and it cut off too early – but hopefully I can give you more next time.

I heart Reviews...:-)