A/N: Hi! Please don't be too mad at me, I never meant for my little break to turn into a Godzilla-break, I promise! It's just... fandoms, and Finnick, and Bucky Barnes are too distracting... So, let's get down to business! (subconscious: To defeat the Huns! Okay we need more sleep Cali) I really am sorry for taking so long to write this, but it just wouldn't happen before now. So thank you, all of you, for being patient through an excruciating month of OH MY GLUB WHATS GONNA HAPPEN NEXT????? I really appreciate it :) oh, you should probably read the chapter before this as a refresher, I think. Also, more notes at the end of the chapter! Read on, lovelies!

"Doctor, the rebels are approaching the Tribute Center. We have to go." A new nurse informed him. The old one had died of mysterious circumstances, but rumor going around was that she had been stung by a rogue Tracker Jacker.

"Give me a moment." He muttered absently. He didn't turn away from his subject, who was writhing on the lab table. The woman let out a scream as he dosed her with a fuchsia liquid, earning the doctor a grin. The nurse had grown up watching the Games all her life, but Reyna's scream made even her flinch. It was hoarse and cracked, like she had been tortured for hours. Which, she probably had been.

"Doctor, please. They are only minutes away." She insisted. Vecario growled in annoyance, making her gulp.

"I'll leave when I'm ready." He snapped. "Now get out, before you die of mysterious circumstances as well."

That sent her scurrying rather quickly.

"You said you knew Capitol secrets?"

"I do." Why didn't you tell me about the extraction!? He screamed to them internally.

"Finnick, you don't have to do this–" Haymitch started up.

"Yes, I do. If it'll help her, I have to." He ground out. His knuckles were white as he gripped the fabric of his shirt. He nodded to the cameras and took his place with a stoic expression. No going back now, he was live.

"President Snow used to sell me. Well, my body, at least. I wasn't the only one." Thank whatever higher power out there that Snow found Reyna's cold demeanor off-putting, and allowed Finnick to make up the slack. "If a Victor is considered 'desirable,' the President gives them as a reward or allows people to buy them. If you refuse, he kills someone you love. Or several someones."

It was cold out, colder than it had ever been in 4, and the jacket they had given him (albeit wool) didn't do much for his chilled face. Maybe it was just dread seeping into his bones and turning his blood to ice. The trepidation that came with waiting for the return of those you love. Please, please bring her back to me.

But he had to go on. These secrets were his treasures, carefully collected and even more so guarded. They would be his retribution, he told himself in the past. And the day had come for him to stab Snow in the back. And twist the knife, if we're being brutally honest. The monster had taken his one source of happiness away after obliterating all others. Even being fed to sharks was too good a death for him.

"To make themselves feel better, my patrons would make a present of money or jewelry." His hand itched to fiddle with the necklace, carefully tucked under his shirt and over his heart. It was a sign of weakness, and he had to appear every bit the Victor he knew he wasn't. "But I found a much more valuable form of payment." He let the silence lapse for a moment. "Secrets." He said, letting the word drag through his teeth. What he wouldn't have payed to see the look on Snow's face now.

"See, I know all the depravity that's the seat of the cruelty of the Capitol's pampered elite. But the biggest secrets are about our good President Coriolanus Snow."

The sounds of breaking glass woke Reyna from her (rare and fitful) sleep, sending her into deep-panic mode. No, no escape, escape and she'll be punished. She has to do what he says. Always. He knows what's best. Finnick doesn't understand, couldn't understand. He doesn't know just how kind Snow can be. He showed her the way to peace. Compliance.

"Such a young man when he rose to power, such a clever one to keep it. How, you may ask, did he do it?" Time to watch Pompeii crumble, Snow. Choke on the ashes of your dying empire. "One word: poison. He stopped every mutiny before it even started.

It was faint, but she heard it. Someone was coming, down, down, down to them. The whir of steel cables, nearly silent. A burst of pain tore through her, drawing a full scream. She sagged against the chair the doctor had left her in, the venom still strong in her system.  The hiss of a gas canister and the falling of bodies heralded the arrival of these new people. New threats. New dangers. New pain. New people.

"There are so many mysterious deaths to adversaries, even to allies who were threats."

The door creaked open in the cell next over. Muffled footsteps, the soft clatter of combat gear. An extraction team? Didn't they know it was too late, that her will was broken and it wasn't coming back?

"Snow would drink from the same cup to deflect suspicion. But antidotes don't always work, which is why he wears roses that reek of perfume. Help cover the scent of blood from sores in his mouth that will never heal."

She screamed again, trying her damnedest not to start sobbing, too. But the pain had been there for too long, too long for anyone to stay sane. Not with darkness and agony and blood as the only constant. "Help me!" She shouted, straining against the bonds.

"But he can't hide the scent of who he really is. He kills without mercy." Sebastian, Oliver, Juliet, Delilah, Abby, Lizzy, Mom, Dad, Mr. and Mrs. Bowman. All victims of his tyranny. "He rules with deception and fear. His weapon of choice is the only thing suited for such a man. Poison. Perfect weapon for a snake."

The door of her room opened, and the strangest thing happened. She felt all fuzzy and warm, like when Finnick got home from one of Snow's jobs.  He hadn't told her yet, what exactly he was doing for her sake. She would race to the train station and barrel through the crowds (everyone wanted Finnick, after all) until he stepped off that train and she leaped into his arms. He'd spin her around like she weighed nothing and when he finally set her down, she was giddy from relief that he was back, the dizzying sensation of the spin, and the butterflies that danced in her gut when he hugged her close.

"I missed you." He would say.

And she was too stupid to tell him how she felt. Every. Damn. Time.

But now, it was like a million pounds tugging on her eyelids. And this time, she knew the sleep would be bliss. Knock-out gas (for lack of a more eloquent term) does that for you.

A/N: okay, so! I would like to give a huge thank you to all my voters, commenters, followers, reading-list-adders, library-adders, readers, and fans (of Finnick, not me, silly!) for the support you give me. You're just as vital to this story as my sleep-deprived mind! Hurrah! It means so much to me that you do what you do, so keep on keepin' on, and I really hope you enjoyed this particular chapter! Speaking of chapters, I'll be updating every-other week on... Probably late Friday night...

Don't forget to vote, comment, add-to-reading list/library, share, and simply enjoy this story, it really helps the writing process!