Recommended listening: "Bad Blood" by Bastille

I have no idea how long I've been here.

It can't have been more than a few days, I don't think. Maybe not even that long. If I didn't keep drifting in and out of consciousness, I'd maybe have been able to keep time somehow. Timing the drops in the IV drip they have me hooked up to, so they can keep me in one place without worrying about whether or not I'm going to try to overpower them and escape, perhaps. I've promised them I won't. They needed reassurance, though. Or maybe Seneca Crane just glossed over the Do No Harm part of his Hippocratic Oath. Hanging next to the IV bag that never seems to empty fully (they must change it out when I'm passed out) is another bag that glows a creepy, iridescent green. Liquified meteor rock - and Crane has figured out that it just takes one drop, intermittently dosed directly into my bloodstream, to keep me entirely under his thumb.

I'd rather take that bullet out on the farm again and again. Not only did it hurt less, I'd be able to hear the gunshot and brace for it. Crane's setup here is brilliant, really. I'm completely at the mercy of the tiny tube shoved in the crook of my arm. But even if I had any intention at all of escaping, of overtaking my smarmy-faced guards and bashing Seneca Crane's head in and flying off into the night, I wouldn't dare.

Not with everything else I'd stand to lose.

They made it obscenely easy to find Rue. They barely even had her tied up when I broke into the old storage unit building - which was also far, far too easy to do. They'd done a real half-assed job at gagging her. I could hear her words through the handkerchief they had shoved in her mouth: "Peeta, no…" she'd said. But they'd been right. I had to play the hero. In whatever capacity my kind has DNA, it must be imprinted on it. Of course I would go to help Rue - even knowing that doing so might be the last heroic thing I'd ever do.

Seneca Crane's voice is positively jubilant when he calls out to me. "Mr. Mellark, you've just won me a thousand dollars! Mayor Snow thought for sure you'd show up in that ridiculous costume of yours. And at least a half hour later… I do love winning bets."

"I'm glad to hear you think I'm so predictable Doc… Oh, wait. I suppose you aren't one of those any longer, are you?" I suppose Johanna's sass rubbed off on me more than I realized.

Behind his ridiculous beard, Crane clearly grits his teeth. "And I have you to thank for that. And Ms. Everdeen. And young Miss Turner here."

"I know it's not Rue you want. It's not Katniss, either. So if I turn myself over to you - and Mayor Snow - without a fight, we can surely strike a bargain, can't we?"

"Oh, wait, do let me guess. You want me to let Miss Turner here go unharmed?"

I nod once. Muffled as she is, I can hear her squeal "Peeta! Don't!"

"And I assume I'll need to promise some modicum of safety to Ms. Everdeen as well."

"Absolute safety. For her and Rue. And our families. You don't need them - you want me. I'll give you what you want if you give me what I want."

Crane sidles up and orbits me with his hand stroking his chin. "I never expected you to give up so easily, Mr. Mellark. There's a catch here."

"No catch," I say defeatedly, holding back the intense desire to break his jaw. "I'm a man of my word. Are you one of yours?"

Crane stands in front of me and purses his lips. "Forty eight hours. I'll give them forty eight hours to get as far away as possible, and I won't pursue them. Are you so sure they haven't taken a page out of your ridiculous hero story and won't come to save you?"

"I'll make sure of it." I turn my head and look Rue in the eyes. She's shaking her head sadly, her large, doe-like eyes glistening with tears. I wait a second, but Crane and I seem to have come to a silent understanding that I need to talk to her on our own. The door clicks closed behind us, and I'm crouching in front of her in a flash, pulling the gag from her mouth and yanking the poorly tied bindings free. She throws her arms around my neck and clings to me like a spider.

"Why? Why would you do that?" she sobs, her tears already seeping hot into my shirt.

"Rue, I need you to listen to me, okay?"

"You can still get us away… You can fly us away, right? Can't you just…"

I shake her gently and pin her with my eyes. "Listen to me. Are you listening?"

"Y-Yes…"

"Get out of here. As fast as you can. Find a taxi and take it all the way to Morgantown. Dad will pay for it when you get there. Then tell them that I said they have to go. Tell them… Tell them I'm getting Katniss and her family together, and that I'll meet them there."

"But you said…"

"Convince them, Rue. Convince them to go. They have to go, Rue, before Crane's men… They have to, you understand me?"

She bounces her head up and down.

"Then… Take Delly's car, and find Katniss. She gets lunch at Cafe Plaid a lot, you can find her there if she isn't at the Prophet or my apartment. Tell her I'm with my Dad already where it's safe, and you have to make sure she and her family get out there, too. She trusts you, so she'll listen to you. You have to do this fast, Rue… Crane might say 48 hours, but it wouldn't surprise me if…"

"When I get there and you aren't there with either of them, they'll…"

"That's when you tell them the truth. You tell them that I love them all and as long as they're together, they're doing what I want them to do. This is so important, Rue. They can't come to find me."

"Katniss won't listen! Delly won't, you know they won't!"

I shake her again, harder this time. I'm almost afraid I'll hurt her. "They can't, Rue. This… This was always going to happen. It was just a matter of when. Tell my dad-"

I can barely think of my dad without wanting to cry.

"Tell my dad that I know this will hurt him, it'll hurt all of them. But they… They have to let me go. It's me or them, Rue, and I have to choose them."

"Peeta, this is my fault!" Rue cries. "Let me stay with you. None of this would have happened if I had only just…"

I press my lips to her forehead. Katniss loves talking about Prim, about the incredible love that you can't help but feel towards your baby sister, no matter how crazy she might drive you. It wasn't for very long, and it probably isn't the same thing at all, but I can't help but feel that bond towards Rue.

"This isn't your fault. Not at all. I came here from someplace that might not even exist anymore - someone was always going to find out. Dad and the rest, they know that in their hearts. You tell them this is what I want - I want them safe and happy, that that's the most important thing to me. That they can be sad or angry at me if they want to be, but that I know they'll forgive me in time. You have to do this for me, Rue. Please?"

She sobs, but her head bobs up and down. "I'm sorry…"

"Don't apologize. Just… You have to go, Rue. Now."

She flings her arms around me once more, and I have to wrench away to convince her to let me go. I force the door open and point down the corridor - the way out is practically marked in glow-in-the-dark paint.

"Don't worry about me, Rue. They can't hurt me… Not if you protect the people I love."

"I w-will," she promises.

And like a little flash, she's gone. Something cold and metallic presses into the small of my back.

"Another meteor bullet, Seneca?" I ask, even though I should be able to feel the radiation of the toxic substance even through the barrel of a gun.

"Would you believe that bullet was never meant for you, Mr. Mellark?" Crane's voice hisses. "But we'll have plenty of time to talk about that later."

I feel something loop around my throat, but I know instantly it's no regular garrote. If I had to guess from the way my blood starts to sizzle in my veins that it's another one of those necklaces I found in Rue's room.

"Walk, Mr. Mellark. From what I've seen, this little cheap piece of rock makes you exquisitely mortal."

It feels like it's been too long since the last drop hit my blood stream. I'm more conscious than I have been since I woke up like this. I wonder if the needle shoved in my arm is coated enough in meteor rock that it'll stay embedded in my skin, or if it'll simply pop out before the next dose can be administered. I hope it'll stay put. If I'm here, Katniss, my dad, Delly, Rue - they're all safe. I have to keep believing that.

An overwhelming stench of roses fills my nostrils, and I think I'm about to come face to face with Mayor Snow, but instead it's Crane's face that my eyes find. The Mayor's rose must have permeated Crane's clothing, meaning the two must have just been together. Maybe Snow is just out of sight, watching Crane watching me. It's disconcerting, like knowing there might be a viper in the room but not knowing exactly where.

"Comfy enough, Mr. Mellark?" Crane asks.

"It's like the Hilton," I spit in reply.

"Mayor Snow and I were just chatting about your use to us. It seems that he and I are at something of an impasse at what exactly to do with you. But we aren't ungentlemenly hosts - we thought we'd put it to you to cast the deciding vote."

"Grand. I don't suppose letting me live was an option."

"Oh, no no no, Mr. Mellark. You are far, far too valuable to us to kill you outright. We're businessmen, the Mayor and I."

I'd honestly rather they just kill me. Surely there's still enough meteor rock in my blood that if they put a gun to my temple and pulled the trigger, it'd be enough to do me in. Or they could simply up the dosage and let my blood boil me to death. Both seem infinitely preferable than whatever these hosts of mine have in mind.

There's a sharp metal screech - Crane must have just pulled up a chair - and then his feet kick up on the table next to one of my bound wrists. He folds his hands behind his head and actually has the audacity to look bored.

"Snow, it shouldn't surprise you to learn, has all sorts of friends in all sorts of places. Other doctors, like myself. Scientists. Researchers. And he's highly of the opinion that turning you over to any one of them would be a highly profitable endeavor. Do you have any idea what sort of nobility and payday would come from being the man to definitively prove that there is life on planets other than ours? Not only life! Life that can do the sorts of remarkable things you're capable of. You're truly extraordinary, my dear Mr. Mellark. Surely you know that."

"If someone is going to be the man who provides proof of extraterrestrial life, wouldn't you rather that be you?" I quip. "Or is your reputation too tarnished at this point?"

I brace for an uppage of my dosage at my snide comment. But in my present predicament, I have to take my wins where I can get them. And no matter what Crane does to me, it was Katniss and me that destroyed his name.

Katniss… I let myself think of her for just a second. But doing so hurts almost as much as the shot of meteor rock that doesn't come.

"That is something of a concern, yes," Crane says coldly. Clearly he needs to keep me lucid. "But thanks to you and Ms. Everdeen, I don't have the financial means others might to offer him. Not just for the rights to you, that is. But I have a few other tricks up my sleeve."

"I'd ask you to tell me, but you're going to anyway."

"You are an extraordinary specimen, Mr. Mellark. But I happen to think your value lays not in you as a human - er, or whatever you are. What interests me more is what you could produce."

"Other than laser beams out my damn eyes, I don't know what you mean."

"Progeny, Mr. Mellark. I suppose you could say I'm a man of limited interests. But being able to tell a prospective buyer that they child they're about to welcome into their home is not only attractive - you are a handsome man, after all, I can't imagine any offspring of yours would be any less so - but also superhuman? Oh, the price tag for one of those children would be… Astronomical."

I wish my hands were free. My blood boils, but not because of the meteor rock. This fucker never learns, apparently. To him, people are simply flesh and bone that can be sold to the highest bidder. I suppose I should have some disgust with the notion too that someone would buy a child from a man like Seneca Crane, but the person doing the selling is infinitely more evil to me. And now he's not talking about some abstract mixture of two people's DNA who were desperate enough to trust his lies - he's talking about my DNA. A child that could be mine.

My anger abates for just a moment, though - because what Crane doesn't know is that his gambit is entirely futile. And as much as that disgusts me, I grasp at that very straw. If he tries to use my genetic material to create a baby, he'll be utterly disappointed. And maybe, after a while, he'll simply kill me out of frustration. It's sick, but it's all I have left to cling to.

"Who in their right mind would ever do business with you again?" I say to placate him for a moment, make him think I'm actually weighing my options.

"People with enough money and enough desperation for a child will do almost anything. And the 'enough money' part is utterly optional. Homes can be mortgaged, credit cards can be acquired. There is nothing I love more than an utterly desperate couple."

It satiates me to visualize punching his face through the back of his head. Almost.

"You're a fucking monster. I hope you realize that."

"Big talk coming from the freak who can fly, Mr. Mellark. But I'll make this easy on you - if you choose to allow me to keep custody of you, I'll guarantee your eventual freedom."

This seems too good to be true. Especially coming from Seneca Crane.

"It won't take long for me to acquire enough wealth in order to make myself disappear. When I do, I'll make you disappear as well. Let you fly off and be with that pretty reporter you love so. I'm highly dubious that you'll get such an accommodating offer from Mayor Snow, or any of the researchers he might sell you to."

My mouth goes dry and I can taste something metallic and bitter. I'm honestly not sure I can really trust Crane but if by any stretch he's being honest with me...

"I'll... I'll do it," I say. A part of me wonders if I'm signing a death warrant. Because unless Crane's figured out how to perfect human cloning (and who knows if even that would work on someone like me?) he's not going to get anything from his experiments with my genes. And then where will that leave me?

At least he knows how to kill me. I've never in my life been more conscious of my own mortality than I am now. Funny the places your brain goes when you you've surrendered completely.

"I knew you were a sensible man, Mr. Mellark! Bravo. Now, shall we get started?"

"Started?" My voice shakes and betrays just how terrified I am.

"I'll be needing certain specimens, my friend. Or did they not teach you how babies were made out on the farm?"

I clench my eyes closed and try to project my mind elsewhere. I don't know what I expected, but this?

I'm granted a momentary reprieve - one of the stoic guards who's been hovering by my side since I came to is flagging Crane down for attention and whispering in his ear. I strain my own hearing to pick up on what they're saying, but there must be too much meteor poison in my system because it isn't working properly at all. I make out a few words here and there and to my horror, one of them is Katniss's name.

"Really? Well that was easier than I expected."

"You promised, Crane! You promised Katniss wouldn't be harmed!" I hiss at him.

"I've no intention of harming the lovely Ms. Everdeen, Mr. Mellark. None at all. In fact, I plan on taking very very good care of her."

I'm struggling against my restraints now. All I can see is red. He can't touch Katniss. He won't. I won't allow it.

"You swore," I seethe. "You swore you'd let her disappear."

"I gave her my promised forty eight hours Mr. Mellark. She's the one who's still in the city. And she's now a commodity that I cannot let slip through my fingers. You understand, Mr. Mellark. Or you will. Once you see her."

A crazed look crosses his face. "Or rather... when she sees you."

I see the droplet of meteor rock enter the tube just out of the corner of my eye. I try to brace for the shock but there is no bracing for fire spreading through your veins. My voice sounds far away in my ears as I begin to scream and thrash on the table.

"Move him into the other room!" Crane calls. "Katniss Everdeen is no fool. We need to make this look convincing."

My blood is still roiling when I feel arms lift me and carry me away. If I squint, I swear I see a camera pointed at me. I realize exactly what they're going to do. They'll film me beaten and bloody. They'll play to her feelings and she'll do whatever they want.

Please don't, Katniss. Stay away. We can't trust him. Stay away.

I try to say all this aloud but it feels as though the poison had multiplied ten-fold in my system. I'm barely aware of panting out her name, just her name when I black out all over again.

The things I see in my unconscious state are so strange they could be pure delusions brought on by poisoning. Or maybe they're incredibly real and it's just my brain that can't tell the difference.

There's a woman smiling down at me. Her eyes are blue like mine but her hair is a dark amber. She's smiling so wide and speaking such sweet words - which is strange when I realize since I can't actually understand what she's saying. But somehow I know that they're words of love, of adoration. She utters a garbled mess of syllables and I recognize it: it's my name. My birth name. The name I left behind when I came here. I try to hold on to it, but it slips away all too fast.

There's panic and pandemonium. I don't understand what all is going on but I know intrinsically that things are bad. That something is very wrong. There is a group of children cowering in a corner and I feel like I should be with them. But I am being forced away every time I try to step towards them.

The woman who'd smiled at me isn't smiling any more. Is she praying? I can't tell, but she looks so frantic. She wraps her arms around me and holds me tight, but the embrace doesn't last. She holds me by the shoulders and speaks in that bizarre tongue. This I don't understand, not at all.

Another voice, rough and male. The woman forces me to walk and I see something big and bulky off to the side. I recognize it even though I don't want to. I don't want to go there, to go away from the smiling woman and the children in the corner and even the gruff-voiced man. This is where I belong... don't they realize that?

I'm not given a choice. The vessel is small and dark but it is at least comfortable. I catch one last look at the smiling woman's face before blackness separates us, and I know it's for forever. The thought makes me want to cry.

Just before I do, the pod around me begins to glow softly. It's a vivid orange, like the sky at dusk, and the writing, the symbols imprinted all around me are comforting. They give me hope.

And then blackness again.

The next things I see are more like memories. No, they are memories. I know them all. They come, rapidfire, like my brain is trying to force me to remember them all at once.

Dad, and all our firsts together: him showing me how to knead a loaf of bread. The very first time he let me ride a horse by myself. The only time he ever actually spanked me for doing something wrong, and how I didn't have the heart to tell him it didn't hurt at all - though the lesson was loud and clear. Then, inexplicably, I see just his smile. The way it reaches all the way to his eyes and makes the corners crinkle. I hear the throaty chuckle of his laugh. It doesn't break my heart in the state I'm in like it might were I conscious.

There's Delly in her prom dress with a plaid shirt over it, because she helped me slop the pigs when we'd called it a night. Sae with a dish rag scolding me playfully for taking a picture of her without her permission. Finnick and Johanna's teasing of one another that somehow I can just tell is part and parcel to so much more.

And Katniss. She's everywhere, mixed in between everything else. She's rubbing the scar on the side of her neck. She's squinting at her computer monitor because she insists she doesn't actually need reading glasses. Her face is contorted in the most beautiful possible ways as I move inside her and claim her as mine. Her humming while she scans the daily headlines. The way her smile lights up her face, especially if she was just scowling a minute before. She's everywhere and everything.

And I couldn't save her.

That's the last thing I think before I'm thrust back into consciousness with a sharp, burning jolt across my chest.

The first thing I see is Delly's face, and for a second, I'm so relieved. Everything up to this point must have been a dream. Katniss and Rue are safe. No one had been stalking the farm. I must be there myself, because why else would Delly be here in front of me?

But the more my vision clears, I can tell I'm still in Crane's hideaway. And the searing pain I felt across my chest is dulling to something of a throb. Delly's face dips down to mine and her lips graze my forehead.

"Oh, thank God, Peeta, thank God!"

"Delly?" I gasp. "What the-"

She chucks me under the chin. "Look, just because you think you're invincible doesn't mean you can keep pulling this crap! You were dead! They had you so pumped full of that poison your heart had stopped! If the defibrillator wasn't right here we'd have lost you forever!"

I'm so confused. My head is reeling and I think I'm going to be sick.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be with Dad at the safe house, and Rue was supposed to..."

"Rue and I came into the city to get Katniss and her family, but we were too late. Finnick had all this gear though and he knew where this place was..." She's nodding at someone and I conclude it must be Finnick, standing off just out of eyeshot.

"You can't be here," I moan desperately. Rue was right - Delly was never going to let me go without a fight. I love my best friend, but she's stupid as a rock. They'll kill her as soon as look at her here. Or do something all the worse, as a way to punish me. "It's not safe..."

"No shit, Sherlock," a man's voice says. "That's why we're getting you and Catnip the hell out of here."

I arch my neck. The man Delly nodded to wasn't Finnick after all. Standing there, defibrillator paddles in both of his hands and a steely look in his eyes, is Gale Hawthorne.

A/N: Closer and closer to the end, folks! This was the very last Peeta POV chapter of FaB, and I do hope it was worth the wait. I now leave the story in Meggie's very capable hands to bring us to the finish line. :)

Thanks as always to each and every one of you who finds and enjoys this story, especially to those who take the time to leave a review at the end! You all are fabulous!

Happy reading until we meet again!

~Kika