Because of the nature of this chapter, much like the other one that covers an interview between Peeta and Caesar this uses dialogue from "Mockingjay". The dialogue in this is from Chapter 8, page 113 of "Mockingjay" by Suzanne Collins, speaking for the edition I own whose ISBN is 978-0-439-02354-2

I am trapped in the Capitol.

The Capitol is the enemy.

My name is Peeta Mellark.

Stop the war.

Johanna and I must survive.

The odds are not in our favor.

I *must* remember who the enemy is.

Think about what you're doing.

No matter what my sleep says.

I must be hallucinating but no we did go through prep. We did even if the team were mostly silent, except for the occasional chit-chat with each other. I still smell the make up. All that happened. It hurts too much when Caesar hugs me though. There's a flicker of concern on his face. I manage to stop myself from laughing. Flicker of concern. Caesar Flickerman. It's not funny. It's not. I bite my lip.

"It's good to see you again, Peeta."

They've offered me cocoa. I can't drink it. It smells so very sweet. I feel like I will throw up. I can't do that. Again.

"I'm sorry about last time."

"What about it?" he has that same broad smile, but also looks confused.

"The plant...I..."

"Oh, please," he waves a hand, "Those things are inconsequential. Though it's not like you to get stage fright. Especially not after the broadcast."

"No...I..."

"Come on. Come on. Sit down. Sit down."

We walk over to the chairs. The artificial fire place is so bright. Everything hurts my eyes. I feel unsteady. It's so long since I've had the leg on, and it doesn't fit right. When they first put it on during prep it chafed and as I started walking there were weird jolts through the stump but everything else hurts so much I don't really notice the individual things any more. I sink into the chair and I feel as though I'll be swallowed up. Caesar waits while I situate myself until that feeling stops.

"How are you feeling?"

"I can't complain."

He gives a slight chortle at that, "I suppose not."

No kidding. There's a brightness around him for a moment as he moves, halos and sparkles with the light and I shut my eyes to get away from it, even his teeth are blinding.

"Are you alright, Peeta? are you too upset?"

"No. No. I'm fine." I swallow. I look at him. I have to do this. It's important, "We'll get through."

"Good, there's a boy." He pats my leg, carefully, "Now, do you remember what we were going to discuss today?"

I dredge through my mind. Things are a little fuzzy, but I can see it. The war. Something terrible happened in District 8. Things are bad. The rebels...the radicals, "Propos?"

"I told you he was good." Caesar remarks to someone off to the side. The lights are too bright over there. Halos. I pinch my eyes. That was a bad idea. That made everything hurt worse, "Are you sure you're alright?" Voices echo, "Are you too upset?"

"No. No. I'm fine." I look over at him and muster what I hope is a reassuring smile. This is important.

"Good. Good." Caesar makes a motion with his hand, and I see a few cameras whirl around.

"Playing intro," someone says, "and 3...2...1..."

"Peeta..." Caesar says, "I'm sure I'm not the only one who is glad to see you again."

"That's very generous of you, Caesar." I tell him.

"I'm sure that you, as we all are, are grateful to be safe and sound given what's going on in the other districts at this time."

I nod, "It's a tragedy. I can't believe things are so bad out there..."

Caesar tuts and shakes his head, "Yes, a tragedy. There are so many tragedies and it doesn't help if people get senselessly riled up, you know?"

"I imagine not."

"There are rumors, you might have heard, that Katniss Everdeen is taping propaganda films for the radicals in the districts to whip up such fervor..."

"They're using her obviously," just like you're using me. I look at him. So blinding and bright, "I doubt she even knows what's going on in the war. What's at stake."

"Is there anything you would like to tell her?" Caesar asks me.

"There is," Get me out of here. Get Johanna out of here. I don't care how you feel about me. Just help me please...or blow up the whole building if you have to. Just make this stop, but my mouth says, "Don't be a fool, Katniss. Think for yourself. They're using you. They've turned you into a weapon that could be instrumental in the destruction of humanity. If you've got any real influence, use it to put the brakes on this thing. Use it to stop the war before it's too late. Ask yourself, do you really trust the people you're working with? Do you really know what's going on? And if you don't...find out."

"And we're done!" Caesar beams, "Brilliant again, but you're always perfect. Such a great speaker. I could kiss you, but I don't want you getting ideas!" he points at me and winks, "You're feeling okay this time, no upsets?"

"Yes," I nod, "I-I'm good. Just tired."

"This whole situation is stressful for everyone." Caesar nods.

Yes, and you get to go home to your comfy bed. I'm going to get hung from a wall in a few minutes.

Some of what I said is probably right...the rebels were using us. We had no idea what was going on but still...how are they doing this? They at least gave up the pretense of having me learn a script this time. I do recall some words in my sleep...I think...and Finnick and I were talking, and maybe Beetee, or was it? was it Gale? Gale and I don't talk, but there's also been so many bits and pieces of things.

A guard comes up. I try to stand but my arms don't want to push off and my left leg doesn't have enough stability. He hoists me to my feet and lets go cautiously, "Let's take you to med bay," he says.

"That sounds like a very good idea." Caesar remarks, "I hope to do many more interviews with you, Peeta, my boy, wouldn't do for you to be ill."

"Right..."

Once we're outside the door the guard gives up on pretense, knocks me over and carries me the rest of the way which is fine...never thought I'd agree with a guard, but I just don't care any more.