A/N: I apologize for the wait on this. My mind has been on so many things recently it's been hard to keep up.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games.

Chapter Six

Peeta didn't sleep that night. All he heard was screaming. It seemed that the Careers didn't take rest at night-time and some continued on into the morning. Someone must have double crossed them, or ratted them out, or just crossed their path at the wrong time, because the screaming never faltered, never paused, all night.

Peeta didn't notice when Cato left the room, but he certainly did when he came back. The screaming had finally ceased but sleep was beyond him now. "You ready for the second part of your inciation?" asked his ex.

"Probably not," Peeta muttered.

"Aw, don't write yourself off just yet," Cato said. He walked around the bed and unlocked one of the cuffs. Peeta considered lashing out but he knew it was a lost cause because Cato so much bigger than him and would probably have him pinned in five seconds flat.

"What is it, anyway?"

Cato didn't answer. He unlocked the second handcuff and then restrained both of Peeta's wrists together. He dragged him up onto his feet. The ground was cold and Peeta suddenly remembered that he didn't have any shoes on. And by the looks of things, Cato wasn't going to let him put his sneakers back on anytime soon.

Cato dragged him out of the bedroom and Peeta found himself too tired to protest. The usual suspects were hanging around. Clove, Marvel, Glimmer. They seemed to be getting on with jobs of their own, whether it be cleaning weapons or scrubbing floors. In the middle of the room, was a wooden chair.

"Sit," Cato instructed. Peeta sighed heavily but obeyed, sitting down on the wooden chair and letting Cato readjust the cuffs so he was restrained with his hands behind his back. "Normally, the second part of incitation is centered around trust-"

"I wouldn't trust any of you as far as I could throw you," Peeta interuppted, sounding like a petulant child. What was the point in testing his trust? Surely they knew he didn't trust any of them!

"And because of that we've agreed to skip it. The third bit is easy. All you have to do is sit and watch us get on with our business," Cato said.

Okay . . . that didn't sound too bad at all. Peeta nodded. "Alright."

Throughout the day, nothing exciting happened. As previously said, everyone seemed to have a job to do that kept the inner workings of the Career Headquarters running smoothly. Well, everyone except Cato. Cato never left Peeta's side, his hands twitching and touching him as if he couldn't control himself.

"Don't you have a job to do?" Peeta eventually asked.

"Yeah, it's looking after you," said Cato. His hand got dangerously close to the younger boy's crotch so he brushed him off by crossing one leg over the other. "You know, I prefered you when you were a bit of a slut."

Peeta laughed. "And you're supposed to be trying to get me on your side?" he asked incredulously. "Do you really think calling me a slut is going to help your case? At all?"

"I'm just speaking the truth," his ex shrugged. Peeta scowled. "Go on, admit it. When I met you, you were a bit of a slut."

"No, I wasn't!" Peeta spluttered.

"I can imagine it," Clove suddenly piped up. She was finishing off the floral pattern on her arm but wasn't even watching what she was doing. Her green eyes burned with intensity. "He looks like the sort who'd pretend to be innocent but would drop to his whore-knees as soon as he got the chance."

"I wasn't a whore!" Peeta protested. He was fed up of being treated this way. Constantly called names and treated like a piece of dirt. "Cato was more of the whore than I was!"

Glimmer snorted. Peeta didn't even want to know what she was about to say because it obviously wasn't going to be good, whichever way she spun it. "Everyone knows that Cato is a whore. He used to fuck anything on legs," she said. "Until he met you, of course. Do you realize how irritating it was to have him gush about some fucking golden boy he saw in the park?"

"Gush?" The park . . . That was where Peeta and Cato had first met. Peeta had been so consumed with staring at the sky that he hadn't noticed that he was about to walk right into Cato, which inevitably made it happen. "You gushed about me?"

"Of course I did," Cato shrugged, acting a little sheepish. "I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"Per-lease," Glimmer laughed, "he couldn't stop thinking about your body!"

"It was his personality too, asshole!" Cato yelled at her.

Clove winced. "It was his body, Cato, admit it. That was all you talked about."

Even Marvel joined in in the mocking. "'Oh that boy, oh god, Marv, if you had seen the ass on him! I promise I'll get him into Headquarters somehow so we can fuck him together,'" he said in a simpering voice, batting his eyelashes in a ridiculous fashion.

Peeta shrank back in embarrassment at the thought. Cato didn't even deny that this was what he said. Instead he simply rolled his eyes and shook his head in a 'what-are-ya-gonna-do' way. "But then I got to know him and I found out he had an amazing personality too," Cato insisted.

"I feel sick." True to the admission, Peeta's stomach was churning. Everything was a little bit much to take in. The most disturbing thing being that if he hadn't had such an apparently 'shining' personality, he would have been double penetrated by two dominant, over-bearing men.

"Oh my god, he's going to barf!" Glimmer cackled.

Clove scooped up the bin that sat beside the tattoo table and tossed it to Cato, who shoved it under Peeta's chin just in time for him to drop his guts. There was nothing to throw up, really, and the acid that lingered in his stomach burned his throat and stung his lips.

"You need to feed him or next time he does that he's going to lose the lining of his throat," Marvel pointed out.

Glimmer stomped her foot angrily, like a child who just got told she wasn't allowed two lollipops. "I thought we were starving him!" she whined.

"Obviously that's not going to work out," Clove fired back.

Wait, they were starving him? Peeta looked at Cato for answers but his ex refused to meet his gaze. "Cato?" he asked.

Cato stood up. "I'll get you some soup." He disappeared without another word, bringing the bin of stomach acid with him.

Peeta became aware of the six eyes currently on him. He desperately wanted to turn away, but the chair wouldn't allow it. One look was curiousity, another was animosity and the other was . . . was that lust? Peeta directed his eyes to the floor, where he noticed for the first time the blisters Cato had talked about the previous night on his feet.

"What's that pink stuff on your skin?" Glimmer rudely blurted out.

Peeta's arms fell on his arms, knowing exactly what Glimmer was talking about. "It's called eczema," he said snidely, "which is an irritation of the skin. That I'd prefer you didn't touch." Glimmer retracted her finger, which was about to drag along the slightly swollen, pink patches on his arms. Peeta had always been slightly self conscious about the skin condition he'd inherited from his father but he wasn't going to give the Careers the satisfaction of seeing him flinch.

"Is it contagious?" she asked, turning her nose up.

"I don't know. Step a little closer and let's find out," Peeta answered. Glimmer jumped back as if she'd been electric shocked. The look on her face was almost worth everything he'd been put through so far. Almost.

"Of course it's not contagious. He wouldn't be allowed out if it was contagious now, would he?" Clove muttered, quickly losing interest.

Glimmer picked her nails. "I knew that," she said. She narrowed her eyes at Peeta in distaste. "I know, let's see what happens if I rip open some of these snags of skins and pour some water onto it."

Peeta squeezed his eyes shut. Damn, that sort of thing really hurt. Water was normally relatively harmless but when poured ontop of an open wound it burned like acid. He felt Glimmer drag a manicured nail along the crook of his arm-where the eczema was always the worst-as if planning her attack. He could almost feel it already. The scorching pain of his skin being ripped, the burn of the flesh underneath being exposed to open air. It was alright when it was itchy and he did it himself with his own nails but when it was someone else, it made him uncomfortable.

"Glimmer, step away from him right now or I will slice you through the middle and turn your body inside out!" Cato's voice boomed across the room.

Peeta risked cracking an eye open. His ex boyfriend stood at the door at the other side of the room, his face red and seething with rage. Cato had always been overprotective with him, especially when it came to his insecurities, and this obviously hadn't changed with five years in prison.

"You're no fun!" Glimmer whined, pushing away from Peeta and storming over to Clove. "I swear to God, he's turning soft!"

"Shimmer down Sparkles," Clove muttered. She didn't sound like she gave a damn about anything that was currently happening. "We promised Cato he could choose what we could or couldn't do to Pee-brain so if he doesn't want you touching the ecz-belly or whatever it's called then don't touch it."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this!" Glimmer exclaimed.

"Go play with your nail files, Glim," Marvel said. Glimmer screamed in frustration and left the room in a whirl of blonde hair and sparkles. Everyone-even Peeta-stared at the door she slammed as she left in astonishment. "Man, she needs to get out more."

"Well, she did spent five years in prison," Clove pointed out.

Cato returned to Peeta's side with a bowl of soup. Since he was incapcitated, Cato had to spoon feed him it, which was both embarrassing and weirdly intimate. The soup didn't taste like anything, just watery liquid, but at least it filled his stomach. "Feeling better now?" asked Cato.

"A little," Peeta replied. Cato smiled and scruffed his hair before disappearing back into what Peeta assumed to be the kitchen.

This was going to be a long day.

A/N: Take it from someone who has eczema herself, pouring water on the freshly ripped skin hurts like a bitch.

Please R&R! :D