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Underground. He hated it. The walls felt too cold and the ceilings too low, the air too stale and the people around him too... confusing. He had no idea who to trust or if he could ever trust anyone again but himself - though even then he doubted himself. There were days when kindness challenged the tumbling mess of memories in his mind full of nightmares and images he was unable to separate from fantasy or reality.

He had lashed out at Katniss more times than he could count and although the shackles strapped to his body at night helped him stay in bed, they did not help him sleep in peace. Why was he even here? Why had they saved him? Especially her... She had looked so happy to see him yet all he could think about was the pain and suffering she had caused so many people.

The violent thoughts had calmed somewhat after the wedding, but they would still poke at his mind every now and then, tempting him. He still trusted no one.

Yet here he was now, guarded constantly and chained, but able to walk out of his room at least. He was headed down a corridor out of the wing that held the hospital rooms, not sure where he was going really... just anywhere that had better air. The guard following close behind was a constant reminder of his current state of mind, though a part of him was whispering that it was probably best like this.

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The trembled in his hands, the look on his face...this wasn't a good idea. And right now, she had not way to get him to stop. Peeta's strength was something she never had a chance against.

So right now she just had to trust him.

Not the easiest feat. But she kept up her side of the acts, trying to get her feet under her, get some leverage against the floor, and get him off of her.

The sudden change in leverage genuinely surprised him which was probably best considering what they were trying to achieve. Katniss was a hunter and a fighter herself, so it was no surprise when she was able to force him off, Peeta tumbling over with a hard thud on his back, panting. He didn't stop though, trying to scramble up quickly to reach her again.

She didn't delay, bounding up and back away from him, trying to get her back to the wall. Acting like this is a real fight.

And realizing at any moment it could snap inside him, and it would be.

She glanced around for any weapons, and saw only their food. And that would just be a waste.

The chain binding his hands together was rattling threateningly now as he moved back too, already panting a bit from the building stress of this situation, eyes hardened and not looking away for a second.

When Katniss looked away briefly he took it as another moment to his advantage, running toward her to tackle, knowing pinning her with his strength was something he could use if she wasn't agile enough to get away... though the room was small and didn't provide a lot of hiding places.

How long would they let them keep going like this?

Well shit. She didn't know where to go or what to do to keep up this pretend fight.

Letting Peeta tackled her was an option. But her hip was already complaining about him tackling her into the cement the first time. There would be a nice bruise there tomorrow.

Maybe let him trap her into a corner. She backed up, putting on her best cornered look. Because it wasn't that much of a put on.

When he realized he was cornering her he stopped just before they made contact again, hands in fists hanging in front of him, brows furrowed.

"I could end this right now..." He spoke threateningly but he didn't truly want to, hoping she still realized that.

She stared up at him, heart pounding. Mostly from the sudden fight. But Peeta was much less intimidating when he was on your side. And right now he was on her side. Was suppose to be. But what her mind knew and what she felt weren't always the same.

And all she saw was someone who could, in fact, end this right now.

"Peeta, don't." She said softly.

For a moment even he believed her despite being in on this and knowing it wasn't real.

He could never truly hurt her again... could he? Was that side of him still willing?

His hands curled up into fists more and he felt weak again, trembling. This was his own plan and he was already fucking up two minutes into it. No.

"Damn... it," he grit out, wanting to still look menacing but failing miserably, his head pounding in that confusing ache again as he turned and punched the wall beside her instead, head hanging.

This was a bust. She could see the moment he lost it, the way his expression shifted, slid.

But it didn't seem to be making much of a difference anyway. Either they weren't watching, or they didn't care.

Hopefully it was the former.

"I think we can give up."

It had been a good plan if he hadn't absolutely failed at keeping up his composure. Maybe he wasn't ready for this yet. Maybe he was a lost cause after all.

His hand should have been aching but he was numb to any pain in his fingers, angry at himself for being so weak from two simple words.

"I'm sorry."

If she had known what was going through his head, she would have told him how much she preferred it this way. But anything she had to say was cut off by a small scrape near where their food had appeared.

Looking over, she saw a small tray with first aid supplies laid out. Looking from it, to his hands, to his face she shrugged.

"Guess we can give up on that idea." She bit her lip, looking down at his hands again. "You don't need to be sorry..."

He glanced over quickly at the sound, the first aid just fueling his frustration at this point. They were watching every damn second and just didn't care. What if he actually had hurt her? Accidentally shoved her too hard and broken her neck? He couldn't stop the morbid thoughts from creeping through.

"Sorry," he spoke bitterly, sarcastic. "I guess I was a better actor before they screwed with my head."

She wasn't sure what to say to that, so instead she said nothing, going to gather up the supplies.

"Let me see your hands." She said softly, looking up at him to see if he would fight her again. She had her argument lined up if he did.

"I told you, I'm fine... I'd rather they hurt." At least then he actually felt something.

"There's a difference between them hurting and them getting infected. I can sanitize them, and wrap them lightly, and you'll still be able to use to pain to focus."

Although she hated that he needed to do it...she also understood. She wasn't going to take it away from him. She just didn't want him to loose anymore limbs.

Her logic thankfully won over this time, Peeta realizing she was right as he stared at the deep cuts and welts in his wrists. His fingers also ached from that idiotic punch but he didn't think anything was broken. He could still wiggle them with mediocre discomfort.

"Fine..." He finally agreed, looking up at her. "And then I guess there's no more reason to ignore the food."

"Come on, let's sit and eat..." Heading back to the corner with their food, she started laying out the medical supplies with one hand, absently eating her now cold food with the others.

It wasn't exactly good warm. But she was so hungry it was easy to ignore.

He almost felt like a scolded child who had done badly at a task, following her with his head lowered and his spirit a bit deflated. They would get out of here eventually but when? And on whose terms?

Sitting beside her with the food again, he popped a bit of the stale bread into his mouth before begrudgingly holding his wrists out for her.

It was clear that his wrists had been taking this damage long term. And that she wasn't the first person to attend to them.

The ruts in his wrist were deep, painfully red and raw. Even in this dim light she could see how badly they were torn up. She felt her stomach lurch as she saw white within the mass of red. It wasn't the first time she'd seen Peeta's bones, but she hoped it was the last.

"This is going to burn..." She said as she gently moved the handcuffs up as high as they would go on his arms.

Peeta was unaware of how bad it had gotten. All he knew was when he rubbed them against the metal it felt like a relief, the pain spreading signals to his mind that this was real. He hadn't thought of the consequences beyond instant gratification.

His muscles were tense from her touch and knowing what was about to come, yet he shrugged.

"Just do it..."

Taking the anesthetic, she soaked a cotton ball and began to dab and the wound, gently cleaning away blood and pus. And again. And again. Luckily they had brought her plenty, and she pressed her lips together to keep the cold food from coming back up.

Peeta's leg. Gale's back. More and more and more injuries. She knew this wasn't much, in comparison, but it brought all that back.

The pain is indescribably intense and he has to bite back a cry so much that he bites into his cheek instead, fists shaking. He didn't dare look at what was actually being done, head hanging as he dealt with it the best he could, despite the need to flinch away clawing at him.

And okay, there were a couple hissed curses there. It hurt.

The urge to move faster to end this quickly was hard to fight. But she didn't want to hurt him more than needed.

Finally the wounds were clean, and she picked up the antibiotic ointment, spreading it liberally around the wounds. There was small hope it would be what they had gotten in the arena, but even if 13 had that, she doubted they would spare it on someone wounding themselves.

Plus, if it healed him, Peeta would lose the pain.

"Almost done, let me just wrap them."

A bit of sweat had formed on his brow from how badly he was holding in his screams, but the ointment helped ease off the intense pain. He knew after she wrapped his wrists that it would be harder to use this method on such tender skin, the healing process only getting in the way of how numbing the routine scratching had been, but he also knew that was what she wanted. He knew it was bad to hurt himself... but it was all he had to rely on for so long.

He simply nodded at her words, giving up on the fight for now. He was weaker than he thought.

Quickly, she wrapped each wrist firmly in light gauze. She left it thin enough so that he could feel the bite of the cuffs through the cotton.

Just thick enough he wouldn't get them infected.

They could make the wounds better late. Add them to the list of wounds they needed to make better.

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peeta you failure

there there

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That icon is like the most interesting peeta in the world.

...life ruiner, that is what you are

bwa ha.

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