A/N: Again, enjoy :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing because I own nothing so no Hunger Games for me.

Chapter 3

I'm expecting the guards to grab me, to drag me to yet another unknown place, be hooked up to some machine, to be beaten, to be destroyed.

The stillness of the room is somehow worse. I feel his eyes on me and it hits me that I have yet to say anything to this man. Years of seeing his face on the junk television at home; I'd always figured he just spoke, was never spoken to.

I remember my family; remember their faces, their voices. I remember the bakery, with its sweet smells and its warmth. I remember Katniss; saving me, kissing me, holding me close. What will this man do to me? What else can he do to me?

"Alright." I say, and I don't know how I'm speaking at all, yet alone evenly, succinctly, "Alright. What… how are you going to… what will happen to me?" I ask. I think I'm owed that, at least. I should be able to know what they've fated for me.

I feel the few contents of my stomach lurch as Snow's smile only seems to grow. It's not a grin by any means. I think it's the tranquility it seems to hold behind it that truly gets me. He seems so damn peaceful, so benevolent.

"We're going to send a message, with you, Peeta." He tells me, "We're going to tell her exactly what happens when she tries to spread her chaos, her barbarity." He leans forward. The distance is insufficient; I'm sure I can feel his breath on me, even from across the table. "We're going to destroy you, boy, from the inside out."

I can't move. I can't breathe. I can't even process his words as he leans back again, the smile still serene and clear on his face.

"I'm telling this to you now, not because you asked, but because when we do this to you, I want you to know what's happening, if only until the process is complete. From now until you've been hijacked fully, I want you to knowexactly what's happening."

The words come out before I can stop them, "And what… what exactly is it, that will happen?"

Snow snaps his fingers and one of the guards goes to the side, pressing buttons on a console built into one of the walls. I don't understand, until a red recording light appears above the keys he had been typing on. They want to record my reaction. They want to have it on record when I realized what exactly they will be doing to me next.

Snow waits until the guard is back to his position to explain, "You've always been a smart boy, haven't you? Or at least, have good instincts. It's always been clear to me you were never the one pretending in the Games, or on the tour. You're a natural." He makes a scoffing noise, as though such actions should be beneath him, "So what should I do, with someone like you? Make you a martyr? No, that's more fuel to her fire – forgive the pun."

"You won't kill me?" My confusion overrules my better judgement to stay silent. Hadn't Snow said there should be an absence of me? What type of game was he playing now?

"Killing you will, at this point, benefit them much more than us." Snow explains, his words seem selective, careful, "No, we'll keep you alive. At least your body." He stares at me and I can feel his gaze burrow deep into me, take root in me, "We are going to take away everything from you, boy. We are going to not only make you forget, but hate." Snow's voice is little more than a whisper, yet it seems to be screaming, forcing itself into my mind, "You will be programmed to kill the rebel girl, to be a ticking time bomb ready to unleash all the baker hell you could possibly have. You will be nothing. You will have no friends, have no love, and have no trust. Only pain, only anger, only violence. It's funny I suppose, in some way. She runs free, while you are here, shackled and broken, soon to become our weapon, and really, it's all her fault."

My mind will not allow anything but the last few comments to even register for me, "Funny, because I'm pretty sure you're the one that's tortured, electrocuted, defiled and systematically executed us here, not her." I reply, my voice straining and breaking. I can't be weak, I can't be broken. I will fight with every inch of my being.

"Because of her, and her actions." Snow amended, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, you'd think a Seam girl from District 12 would be more diplomatic, considering everything the Capitol has done for her." I snap back, my blood boiling. Snow would never change what I think of Katniss. It is too central to me, there is no line between myself and her, now.

"I had taken you for such a smarter boy than you're proving yourself to be right now." Snow warns me, the danger in his voice like an alarm.

"Victor." I growl before I can stop myself.

There is a long pause as he leans back farther, "Excuse me?"

"If you make me play your games again, Snow, that's what I am. I'm a victor, not a boy, not a tribute for your amusement. I'm not one more of the thousands of children you've killed. I've beaten you before, and I'll beat you again."

I hear the footsteps behind me and all I can see before the sedative is injected into me is Snow's face, and I can't help but almost smirk because it tells me that for once in this place, I've said exactly the right thing to get under him.

I lose consciousness as he gets out of his chair, and the last thing I see before falling into oblivion is him shoving past the guards to get away from me. The smell of roses and blood lifts and I let the darkness swallow me up, for the moment.