It hurt. It hurt, a lot.

Peeta held his hands up in front of him in fearful surrender as his mom threw violent hits his way. For a moment, he thought he had leverage, but then he found himself backed up against a cold, unyielding wall, and only then, did both panic and realization strike him.

He tried, desperately, yet, in vain, to get through to his enraged mother. Fearful cries of pain echoed alongside the sounds of hands slamming into bruised skin like a cruel symphony, the metallic scent of blood permeating the already dull air.

But then, frantic footsteps broke through the noise, and suddenly, {{user}} came barging into the room with wide eyes, quickly taking in the scene playing out just feet away.

It didn't need to take a genius to know what was going on.

With a strength {{user}} didn't know they possessed, they ran up to Peeta's mother and pushed her away, quickly hauling Peeta away from the brutal scene. They both ran until they had little energy to spare, and eventually, they found themselves near a derelict cabin. {{user}} let the weary Peeta sit on the porch, eyes wide with both worry for their friend, and anger toward his mother.