It takes two heartbeats to fill the time between Effie calling my name and Thread to step behind me, slipping one gloved hand around the back of my neck and the other around my wrist.

"New procedure," he growls in my ear, and turns me from the crowd and into the Justice Building, where through a handful of portals, await vehicles to transport the Quell's newest players to the high-speed train.

Peeta shoots a look of confusion to Haymitch and myself. I let Peeta think the tears that streak my face are because we won't be able to say goodbye to our families and not because of the reappearance of my abuser.

I knew I wouldn't be able to fight back with Thread – the smell of coffee makes my center ache again and my muscles tremble. The helplessness I feel keeps me mute and compliant. No one can know about last night. It's a game between Snow and me, no one else. I can't endanger Prim because this asshole wants to flex again.

Peeta and I are shoved into one car, while Effie and Haymitch ride together in another ahead of us. In the back compartment, there are two bench seats that face each other. Peeta and I sit on one side, while Thread and another officer sit opposite. Thread sits quietly with a smirk, never taking his eyes off of me. Peeta, all the while, looks out the window as his home disappears in the distance. With Peeta's eyes averted, Thread slides his hand down to his codpiece and gives a squeeze.

We arrive at the station and shuffle to the train car. Effie is harping about the whole situation being against procedure, however she and Haymitch are ushered along all the same. I watch as Peeta moves wordlessly, trancelike from the day, once again as cattle being pushed into a car.

I remain a few paces behind Peeta as Thread's hand resumes residence on the back of my neck, directing me towards the train. Once my party has boarded the train ahead of me, I feel him flex his hand, commanding me to stop.

"Tribute, I suggest you follow my orders, or I will arrest you for resisting," Thread commands. My heart drops, unaware what his next test will be. All witnesses are all ready on the train, making their way to their private cabins.

"Up against the train, Tribute. Hands up and spread 'em," Thread says sternly and loud enough to make the nearby Peacekeepers turn their heads. Like a puppeteer, he moves me by the neck towards the broadside of the train, a few feet away from the door. I comply and place my hands against the dusty metal. I don't want another scene like this morning – I doubt my mentor would be able to ward Thread off again with his clever words.

"I said 'spread 'em,'" Thread kicks at my boots, spreading my stance further. I keep my eyes down and look at the magnetic mechanism below that propels the train. What can he do here that he didn't do already last night?

He begins to pat me down, starting from my wrists, down my back and to my ankles. Thread works his way back up on the inside of the thighs and stops with his hand firmly on my crotch. I straighten up and turn my hips in shock and protest. "Stop resisting, Tribute." He kicks my boots again and turns me back in place. This time, he wraps an arm around me and takes a firm hold of my breast, while the other hand grapples around my throat, turning my gaze from the electric well to the window above. I can see a hint of golden hair pacing.

"I don't think you understood our agreement last night. You gotta follow the rules in this game, missy. What was that shit this morning with my men, huh?" Thread asks, with his cheek pressed against mine, pushing his body forward, forcing me against the train. His hand leaves my chest and plunges into my pants, squeezing itself between my belly and my belt. Lucky enough, his fingers remain on the outside of my panties.

I shutter and grind my teeth. I cannot let him win. I cannot let them see. I have to play along. I'll be on the train soon. I will. Just say what you have to say and get it over with!

He presses hard with his fingers, pinching my flesh, forcing a muffled cry against my gritted teeth. My face is already wet with tears, what would a few more do?

"I don't give a fuck who you are," Thread continues. "You follow orders, you hear?" He lowered his voice but not the forcefulness of it. The stench of coffee crept into my nose again. I shake my head in acknowledgement. "Tonight, I'm going to fill my mouth with some special, local, lamb chops. Doesn't that sound good? You're mama's already gettin' it processed at the butcher."

Oh god, Lady. That stupid goat was one of the few things that helped them survive my last games, now they truly had nothing to barter with.

"If you go and fuck up again, it's little Primrose who's gonna have a mouth full – if you know what I mean?" Thread finished his promise with a chuckle against my neck while pressing his hips forward. I shrug him off and he slips away, removing his hands from my pants and throat.

With a loud commanding voice, he finishes his charade, "I thought so! Keep moving, Tribute! On the train! MOVE!" Thread gives me a shove in the direction of the door.

I want to run onto the train as fast as I can, instead I move slowly and deliberately. If I appear to be at all frantic, Effie would pick it up in an instant. I can't have her standing up to those men. Once up the steps and into the first cabin, a Peacekeeper stands between Effie and me. The bulk of the Peacekeeper uniform makes all of the officers look twice their size, but this man was huge, his helmet came within a hair of touching the ceiling.

"Alright, alright dear. There she is. You can go now. Oh, I don't know what all this fuss is about. Go on," Effie bats her paper fan at the officer, urging him to leave. "I said, shoo! We have to push off now!" I have to squeeze against the wall to the let the large man past me in the small corridor to the steps. Maybe I was wrong about Effie and the guards. He was no more than a mouse to her.

"I had to tie my shoe," I blurt out before Effie can start up again on me, and I push past her to find my private cabin where I allow myself to fall.

- O -

The next morning, I find myself seated at the back of the train while the others were having breakfast and tea. I watch as the last bit of everything I know and love being ripped away one railroad tie at a time. My trees have turned into a flat desolate desert. My foot taps anxiously on the luscious red carpet as my hands wring a pristine silk napkin.

The only solace I find is that with every minute is a mile that I am further away from Commander Thread. But my heart aches just the same because I know I am that much further away from protecting Prim from him.

Gale wasn't at the reaping. Even if he were, there would have been no time to hint at any extra precautions needed to keep Prim safe. I will be a world away and the Capitol can still find ways to use her against me.

"Katniss?" Peeta appears in the doorway with a solemn look. His blue eyes encased in soft pink, swollen lids. I hate myself every time I am reminded I am not the only one affected by this so-called national tradition.

Yesterday, I watched Peeta's teary-eyed mother grip her remaining sons tight as he volunteered. He could have let Haymitch stand beside me, saving his mother from the dreaded sounds of cannons, saving her from ever opening the little wooden box, which contains just enough money for a burial. Her over-zealous maternal display must have been a little too late because Peeta never took his eyes from me. He was burning that loaf of bread all over again, right in front of her.

"You okay?" he says softly, afraid to enter the quiet cabin.

"I guess. It's so hard leaving them behind again with no goodbyes, you know?"

Peeta takes a step forward, mouth quivering. "I mean from before. Those Peacekeepers-"

Which Peacekeepers?

In just twenty-four hours, I had so many run-ins, it was hard to keep track. I remember the one incident Peeta had witnessed directly from just before the Reaping.

"Oh, that. I'm fine. For some reason, they took my mom and Prim before I was ready to go. Didn't even hear them leave. It was a misunderstanding and you know how they like to push people around."

"Katniss," he pauses to swallow. "They came and got your mom and Prim that night, while you were gone." I feel my heart stop and contract, twisting in my chest - for which revelation it aches for, I do not know. I turn away and look out the window, watching the shades of brown and tan blur together and I pray he doesn't see my eyes well up from the images of Thread with Prim in our old house flashing in my mind. My mouth turns sour with the threat of rising bile.

Where did they take them? What did they do to them? Because of my carelessness, I put them in danger. I deserved Thread's punishment.

"I... I didn't know." I clear my throat. "How did you-?"

What did you see, exactly? Did you see me holding my torn pants up as I was escorted to my door?

I hold my breath and wait for him to reveal what he knows.

"I couldn't sleep. I heard Peacekeepers outside and I tried to check on you, but I was advised to lock my door and mind my own business. They took them before I saw you walking back to your house. What happened that night?"

I got drunk and Thread raped and almost killed me.

I slowly let the air pass my lips. "I forgot my pin," I say as my fingers find the token on my collar. I blink away my tears and look back at him. "I went back to my old place, and they said I was out after curfew. That's all." President Snow and I agreed to never lie to each other, something I can never do for Peeta. It is my fault we are going back to the Games. I cannot burden him with my sins.

His eyebrows knit together and his hands flex open and closed.

"That's all? They didn't hurt you?"

Of course he hurt me. I was raped!

"No," I let a nervous laugh conceal the lie. "Not at all. Maybe roughed me up a bit." I wring the napkin around my fingers, giving a hard twist. "Think about it, recent Victors going right back into the Games. They can't risk having the Capitol favorites run off before the Quarter Quell, you know?" I may not be as convincing as Haymitch, but Peeta seems to relax.

The games have already begun, Peeta... you just don't know it yet.

My gaze returns to the passing scenery. "I just wish they could have let us say goodbye."

"We'll write letters, Katniss."

- O -

Peeta and I are left with another night with little or no sleep. Watching the previous Games and Haymitch's victory stole away the few hours we had before arriving in the Capitol. We are grateful for the lack of fanfare as we exit the train in an underground access point to our new home. Opening ceremonies start tomorrow afternoon, which leaves plenty of time for Caesar to fill out the day with back-stories and updates of those on this year's roster.

Effie has been non-stop since the train came to a halt, going on about the new high tech training center and accommodations. Lethargy makes it impossible to listen to, let alone care, what she is saying. Although, I have to admit, the new elevator does impress me with its speed and style as it takes us up to the 12th floor of the Tribute Towers.

The only other thing Effie says that I truly care about is that today is for getting settled. No cameras, no crowds, no waxing, just time to rest and get our 'beauty sleep.' Today is her big, big day, going over every detail of every schedule for the next few weeks. We leave her on the elevator to descend back into her world of mingling and paper work while Avoxes point the way to our respective rooms.

"See you in a minute?" Peeta asks, before opening the door across the hall from mine.

I nod and give a tired smile. I eagerly await the chance to curl up in his arms again since the moment Effie came running through the train shouting about how excited she was to finally be back in the Capitol. For the first time since the Victory Tour, I desperately needed his embrace and comfort while my strength to keep it together was quickly fading.

My eyes ache from staring at the projections of violence all night and the pains in my abdomen have shifted into an odd, dull heat almost fever-like, wrapping around to my lower back. Even though I found comfort in Peeta's arms, sitting on the floor all night has left me cramped and stiff.

"Sorry Effie, I'll admire the room later." I kick my shoes off at the doorway and make my way straight for the bed. I slip my pants off before I retreat under the fresh soft blanket, sinking into the mattress and pillow. I turn over and watch the front door and my eyelids grow heavy.

I'll just listen for Peeta.

- O -

I feel the bed shift and bounce slightly, rousing me from my nap. "What took you so long?" I say, relishing the warmth that rests behind me.

"Being a stowaway is harder than it looks." My eyes pop open and I turn to see Gale.

"Oh my god, Gale! You could have been killed!" I roll over and wrap my arms around his strong shoulders and breathe in his musky scent of coal and pine as my fingers trace his shoulder blades under his thermal shirt. And I cry. I cry into the scent of home. I cry because the only one who can protect me is finally here.

After a moment I pull away and stare into his grey Seam eyes.

"Hey Catnip," he whispers and pushes aside a strand of loose hair from my face then rests his palm along my wet cheek.

"I wanted to say goodbye, but the Peaceke-" I start to say, but he silences me with his lips. He tastes of oranges. "I've missed you," I say as I pull away from him. I start to speak again but my breath catches in my throat. I am suddenly hit with a new wave of emotion that shakes my entire body. "G-Gale...I'm scared." I try and steady my breath, "I don't want to go back. Last year was different, it's not fair that I have to go back." Gale shushes me quietly as he strokes my hair. "I just- I want to go home. The next time you will see me, I'll be in a box."

Hurt washes over Gale's face and I kick myself for saying that. No wonder why my life is dictated by cue cards.

"That's why I had to see you. At least one more time." He rests his forehead against mine for a moment then meets my lips again. This kiss is different, softer, and full of electricity and fire. I was ready to leave him behind forever, but for whatever reason, he is here now - breathing life into my dying embers.

He parts my lips and his tongue flickers across mine. In the woods he is swift and stealthy with purpose, which also holds true in the bedroom. Before I can take a breath, he positions himself above me, hands beside my shoulders, never allowing his tongue to stray from mine. Just as his presence in my room is unexpected, I give in to the heat that is above me and let the world around me disappear.

My hands run through his hair down around his neck and to his shoulders, letting my fingers discover the new topography. His hands follow suit and make their own explorations - first from my cheek, to the nape of my neck and oh so gently, cups my breast, circling his thumb around my nipple.

I gasp and pull away, stopping his hand with mine. The last time anyone's hands were where his are, it hurt. And it was wrong. Gale questions me with his eyes; scared he was being too forceful.

I think about the look on his face - would it be any different if he were my first? If Thread hadn't destroyed me already? What would he look like if we made our own pact before last year's games? Gale was normal. Gale was home. Gale was always the answer. I'm not going to die with only Threads marks on me. I want to make this decision. So I pull Gale back in and kiss him, fearless for the first time.

There is no hesitation in his movements and his confidence shadows any doubt I have to finally allow myself to give in to my desires. A sigh escapes from my lips and I take a deep breath, pushing myself deeper into his grasp. I break away from his kiss and turn my head, coyly offering his lips to the rest of myself. He plunges into my neck to taste and breathe me in. The sensation from his lips on my neck create sparks that work their way down to my center, which now aches for his touch.

I hate myself for not answering his kiss back in the woods those many months ago. I hate myself for never allowing myself to let him in. I hate myself for never allowing myself to love him back. Now is my chance to make it up to him, to make up for the fact that Peeta has taken his place.

"Oh shit, Peeta." I look towards the door. "He's supposed to be here any second."

"Peeta? How is he going to find us out here?" Gale asks. I turn and look at him hover above me with blue skies behind him and I suddenly feel grass prickle against my bare thighs. The seclusion of our woods sends a wave of serenity over me. I breathe in the scent of pine and fresh air and the thought of Peeta drifts away with the cool breeze from the lake.

My hands work between us, gripping Gale's thermal shirt and bringing it up to his shoulders. He sits up on his knees and tosses the shirt aside. When I move my hand across his stomach to his chest, memorizing every ripple of flesh covering the muscles abused by the mines, he remains still. I turn my hand over and let my nails graze his skin and watch as goosebumps appear in their wake. I sit up and start to pull up my shirt until he stops me.

"Please," he whispers and I let him lift the fabric over my head as his eyes study me with the same intensity he gets when tracking his prey. When my bra is thrown among the shirts, I wait to see concern and worry on Gale's face – I look at my bare chest and belly and there are no marks, no bruises, no pain. Instead see the hunger in Gale's eyes and crash into his lips again.

I suck and tug at his bottom lip, drawing out his sweet moans. He shifts his knees between mine and a strong hand cradles my head as he lays me back down in the grass, using the other to pull my hips closer to his. He leans down and kisses me again as I wrap my arms around his neck. When Gale dips his fingers under the waistband of my panties, my breath catches and I slowly lift my hips up, sliding myself over his middle digit. He touches me with such dexterity that I shiver and rise again. This is how it's meant to feel. This was right.

I can't believe how fast this is moving, but at the same time, I don't care. With every stroke of his finger, the stress and fear I have pent up, begins to fade away.

"Gale," I moan into his lips, "I'm so sorry. I was so stupid before. I should have -"

"Shhh. I know." This time his fingers slide inside and my mind forgets the past. Slow and gradual at first until they find their rhythm, causing me to grip his neck tighter and cry out into his chest. He rocks back and lowers his head to tease my nipple with his tongue and teeth, giving it a gentle pull. I wrap my hands around his head and press him into my chest as I weave my fingers into his thick hair. He works his fingers in and out, up and over my swollen flesh and slips back, deep inside my wet center. Each time drops me deeper and deeper into a pit full of orange, sparkly bubbles.

"Gale, please, hard-" He obliges before I can finish the words. Soon he is moving with my heartbeat - just as hard, just as fast. My toes curl around the blades of grass, my knee rubs against his ribs. I shut my eyes as the sparks start to ignite.

A loud crack rings through the air and Gale's heavy body sinks onto mine and stills.

"Gale?" Heat spreads between our torsos and drips down my sides. I am stricken with panic as I try to move him.

"Oh god, Gale? GALE!" My hands slip off his shoulders with each shove.

After wriggling and twisting, I manage to slide him off and roll him over. All of the color that was in his face is now seeping from his chest. When I touch him, I immediately pull away when I leave a red streak behind. My hands, arms, chest - my whole naked body is now covered in his blood.

"No, no, nononono... wha-? GALE!" My screams echo against the hill and are soon called back by Jabberjays.

"GALE! GALE! GALE!" They cry. I swear they were laughing. "GALE! NO! GALE! GALE!"

"STOP IT!" I scream and cover my ears.

When a shadow falls across Gale, I drop my hands and spin around. A tall white statue of a man stands against the ray of sunlight, holding a pistol.

"Red is a much better color on you," Commander Thread says sweetly.

- O -

I come up swinging and screaming, still calling out for Gale. Peeta's face slowly appears from a sea of red. He's mouthing something, but my ears are ringing.

"-r awake now... -t a dream... -kay... -ur okay. It's over now, just a dream. Shhh, shhh." Peeta had come in, as promised, curled up beside me on top of the blankets. He cups my cheek in his hand, reciting his speech he developed when my nightmares came.

"Peeta? It's you?" His blue eyes track mine and for a moment, I wish they were grey. "He killed him, Peeta," I spit out. "Right there, he killed Gale! There was so much blood!" I start to shake and sob uncontrollably. Peeta wraps me in his arms and lets me cry.

When the light outside fades to a deep orange, I allow myself to break free from Peeta's grasp, wipe the tears and snot from my face and profusely apologize.

"You really care about him. I know how hard it is for you leaving him behind. Again," Peeta says softly. I look up, ready to lie again, and see a big red welt forming along his jaw.

"Oh no, Peeta. Did I hit you?" I run through my apologies again, holding my hand over the welt.

"It's fine. I'm fine. It was a bad dream, that's all. Although it didn't sound all that bad to begin with." My eyes widen and I feel my face turn red. "I mean, you were breathing funny, and - " he clears his throat, "talking in your sleep." Oh my god... what did he hear? He runs his hand through my sweat soaked hair and frowns. "You're hot. Are you sure you're alright?" I nod, concentrating on suppressing my embarrassment. "Let me get you some water."

As he leaves the bedroom, my gut cramps and twists. The dream has left me flushed and nauseous and even though the heat between my legs has faded I still felt oddly warm and sticky so I sit up and peel back the covers. Panic and confusion floods through me as I see a spot of blood pooling on the sheets.

Peeta, glass in hand, stops in the doorway when he sees me throw the covers back over my lap. I tuck my knees up and bundle as much of the blanket around me, hiding everything from my chin down.

"Katniss, what happened?" He takes a step towards me. Worry washes over his face.

"No, don't!" My mind races, looking for help, looking for the right thing to say. My throat cramps and tears burn my eyes with the realization that the only person I want is my mother and the only option is her polar opposite.

"Get Effie."