Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too.
Chapter 1
AN: So this is the 'Madge in Thirteen' story that I've literally been writing since the fall, based off the shorter series of stories I wrote ages ago. I'm so close to finishing it, but I've kinda lost motivation. Life happens, right? I'm going to start posting it anyways, bc if I don't it may just let it die on my computer and I've put too much time and effort into it for that. Thanks so much to Fortunefaded2012 for helping me start this and keeping the timeline believable, and Nursekelly0429 for coming in and giving me feedback here at my very sluggish end. You're both saints for putting up with me. I normally repay help with baked goods, but since Fedex hasn't had the best track record with getting cookies to my out of state friends, all you get is a long distance thank you. Sorry.
#######
Madge wakes with a start, heart pounding against her ribcage and her breathing short. Another nightmare.
She squints up into the dark sky. There are no stars tonight. The smoke from the fires, the ash remains from District Twelve, is too thick. Even the moon isn't able to cut through it.
She's filthy. Soot is caked on her skin and clothes, in her hair, irritating her eyes and making them as bloodshot as Mr. Abernathy's. She's completely miserable.
Her lungs burn and she closes her eyes again, tries to get some rest before morning, but it's no use. Her mind is awake, unwanted, terror filled dreams waiting to begin again.
Madge props herself up on her elbows for a second and glances over at her mother. She's every bit as dirty as Madge, her skin an ashy gray and her normally pale hair is greasy and matted, thick with filth, not a fly away strand in sight. Unlike her daughter, though, all the smoke and dirt, the heat and death, hasn't hindered her ability to sleep. With a gentle smile, she snoozes on, oblivious to her daughter's inability to get so much as a few minutes of sleep.
Forcing herself up the rest of the way, Madge crosses her legs and peers out into the dark.
All around her the survivors of District Twelve, less than a thousand unlucky souls, are restlessly sleeping, or like her, simply waiting for the morning and the next leg of their uncertain journey.
She should've gone with Birdy and the group from District Ten.
Here, among the people her father had died to save, she's no more welcome than she ever was. They still look at her as a privileged child, a useless princess even though she's not received any special treatment, as if there were any.
If they only knew how much her family had done for them. Telling them isn't an option though, it wouldn't do any good, and they'd never believe her.
She takes a deep breath, inhaling the thick air, the dust from the forest and the heat from the still burning fires of Twelve.
Her lungs sting and she starts coughing. Hoarse, dry coughs, rack her body as she tries to catch her breath, but the more she tries the more it becomes futile and the more she panics.
Something rubs down her back, warm and coarse, catching on the worn fabric of her shirt, gives her a gentle pat.
"It's okay," she hears Gale's voice, deep and soothing, tell her as his hand continues to rub on her back.
She focuses on his voice, the feel of his hand on her back, taking even breaths, for several minutes before she evens she does something damp and cool presses into her hand.
Looking over, she finds a wet rag, held loosely in Gale's hand, offered out to her.
"Thanks," she mumbles, taking it and wiping her face, enjoying the feeling of having slightly less dirt on her.
"Drink this." He hands her a canteen, his canteen from the mines. There's water in it, she can see it shimmering what tiny amount of light her eyes can detect in the dark of the night.
Water has been scarce since the fires started, since the bombing. The ash has made most of the lake Gale had led them to undrinkable. Gale and a group of men had scouted the surroundings and found safe water, but it wasn't much and it was a long walk for such a large group. They had to ration what little they had out carefully. It was bad enough he'd apparently wasted some on a rag for her, she couldn't take more of it from him or his siblings.
"That's yours," she tells him, pushing it back into his chest. "I'm fine now."
She can't see him, not really, just the outline of his body and the glint of his eyes, stormy gray in the sea of black, but she knows he's scowling.
He pushes the water back at her. "Drink it or I make you."
"Gale-"
Before she knows what he's doing, he puts the mouth of the canteen to her lips and tips it up, his free hand catching her face and holding it still until she takes a mouthful.
"There," he grumbles. "Was that so hard?"
Even though he can't see her, she shoots him a dirty look and rubs her jaw.
For several minutes they sit in silence, staring out into the heavy darkness, before Gale cuts the quiet with another sigh.
"Can't sleep?" He finally says.
Madge shrugs.
He seems to consider her lack of answer, he can't see her after all, as an invitation to continue talking. Probably something he learned to do with Katniss, Madge thinks, a little bitterly.
"Want to talk?"
Madge wants to tell him how her dreams are filled with images of her father, burning up, being electrocuted for his efforts to save his District, but her words stick in her throat. She isn't ready to talk about her dad, about any of it.
He knows Birdy had wanted Madge and her mother to go to Ten with them, that she'd considered it her duty to keep an eye on Madge. He doesn't know it was part of Birdy's promise to the Mayor, the last request of a doomed man, that she would make sure Madge and her mother were safe.
"You'll be safer with us," Birdy had told her, once she and her friends, the fake Peacekeepers, found the survivors huddled around Gale's lake outside the downed fences of the District. "We can protect you."
"I can protect her," Gale had snapped, stepping between the pair of girls. "She's from Twelve. She can stay with Twelve."
It was the closest thing to an endorsement of endearment that Madge had ever heard and it made her stomach do an odd sort of flip flop.
Birdy had ignored him, stepping around him and giving Madge a small smile. "Madgie, you don't want to go with them. You don't want to end up there."
"Where?" Gale had stepped between them again, leaned into Birdy's face and glared, demanding an answer.
"Was I talking to you, Dorothy?" She tried to push him out of the way, but Gale refused to budge.
"You don't have any hold over me anymore," he all but growled. "You can't hurt me. I don't have to listen to you."
Birdy laughed, it sent a chill up Madge's back. "I can always hurt you. Don't you ever forget that."
Her friend, an older man with wiry gray hair, had pointed a long gun at Gale after that, gestured for him to back off. Despite looking like he would've liked a good fight, something he could take his frustration and fear out on, Gale had backed down, leaving Madge and Birdy to their talk.
"I want to stay," Madge had finally told her, once Gale was out of earshot. "I-they'll need me. If Thirteen is half as dangerous as you think, they'll need me."
Madge was the only person left with any skill navigating politics. Most of the Town had been killed, locked themselves in their cellars when the electricity had gone down on orders from Thread. The final act of a cruel man.
"They don't deserve you," Birdy had smiled sadly. "I understand why you want to go, and you're a better woman than me for it, but they don't deserve it."
She'd backed off after that, but made the promise that she'd be in contact soon.
"Why don't you give us a few guns," Gale had asked through gritted teeth.
"I'll give you the bullets if you'd like," Birdy had answered, pointing her gun at Gale's gut. She'd thrown her head back and laughed at the horrified looks she'd received. "Oh, don't worry, I wouldn't waste a bullet on what I could do with my knife. And to answer your question, Dorothy, as far as the Capitol knows all of you are dead, we're about to go into a warzone, we need the guns, you don't. Besides, we only have one for each of us."
"Why don't you take us with you?" Gale started in on her again.
"Who died and made you supreme leader of this merry band of morons?" She'd covered her mouth at that, giving Madge and apologetic look. "Sorry."
"Gale, they can't travel with this many people," Madge had pointed out.
"And…" Birdy had sighed, thought about her words for a minute, and then shrugged. "Someone is coming for y'all. They want you there. Say they need you." She made a face of extreme distaste. "Once they meet you they'll regret that."
"They'll be here in two, maybe three days," Birdy had whispered as she'd given Madge a hug goodbye. Avoiding Gale's continued questions about just who was coming for them. "Keep your eyes open, Madgie. They're snakes in the grass, I promise you that."
She'd left shortly after that, leaving the survivors of Twelve with a small store of dried meat and a few containers of water.
Madge had told Gale about Thirteen shortly after, about the plan for them to come pick up the survivors and Birdy's distrust.
"If the witch doesn't like them I consider that a glowing endorsement," he'd told her, glaring off into the soot covered trees, the direction Birdy and her friends had vanished.
"She's right though, Gale," Madge twisted the tattered edges of her skirt in her hands, anxiety almost overwhelming her. He needed to understand. "They've got all this power, but they've been hiding, why? They say it's to avoid a nuclear war, wiping everyone out, but surely they've come up with technology before now that can avoid that. Why did they let the Districts, who don't have much power, suffer and do all the work while they watch from the shadows? It's just strange."
Gale had nodded, rubbed his jaw and considered her words, but in the end he'd shrugged and placed his hand on Madge's, stilling them.
"It's strange, I'll agree with that." A small smile, flitted on his face. "But someone once told me that even if I didn't trust that witch I should use her expertise to my advantage, let her do her job. That's what I plan on doing with Thirteen, if they ever show up. I won't trust them, but I'll use them, their knowledge and resources for my goals."
Madge hadn't been able to keep from smiling after that. It was nice to know he occasionally listened to her.
His fledgling smile had died shortly after that. "Madge, what happened with your dad?"
She'd known it was coming, his asking about the one thing she hadn't wanted to talk about, maybe ever. It was unavoidable.
Madge and her mother had come running through the Seam, yelling for him, giving him a warning about impending doom right before the bombings had started. They'd stayed with Gale as the fence had been pulled down, run with him and his family through the woods. Just the two of them. Her father's absence was blaring.
He'd caught her crying, finally letting the fear and anxiety bubble out, just after they'd gotten to the lake, right before the group from Ten had found them, but all she'd managed to rasp out at that time was the word 'dad'.
"He's dead, Gale," she'd answered, her voice flat, leaden. She's certain he'd already guessed as much though.
There was no reason to give him the details. He had more important things to deal with. Much more important things than the hole in Madge's heart left by her father's death.
Gale had simply nodded, given her a small, awkward, pat on the back, and motioned for her to keep walking, catch up with her mother and get back to the camp. When they'd gotten back to the other survivors Madge and her mother had been met with hostility.
"What're they doing here?"
"Capitol only get your dad out, princess?"
"Why are we wasting resources on them?"
Gale had shut the complainers down, letting them know that without Madge's warning they might all be dead.
"She saved us," he'd told them, conveniently leaving out Birdy and the others' contributions. "The Mayor is dead, not evacuated. Now leave her alone. We have more important things to do than moan about who made it out and who didn't."
As the days rolled on, food and water became priorities, Gale had only spoken to her at night, once the day's duties were done.
"You and your mom stay with the kids," he'd warned her. Despite his assurances and warnings, Madge still heard people grumbling about her and her mother's presence. "My mom will take care of things."
"Just watch these first few times," Mrs. Hawthorne told Madge and her mother as she tried to teach them how to clean one of the squirrels Gale had brought back. She was trying to give them a useful skill while she was stuck babysitting.
It was too much though, too gory for Madge, and she ended up losing what little was in her stomach in a bush by the edge of camp.
"Can't handle a little manual labor," a boy, younger than her but much older than Rory, sneered. He eyed her darkly. "Maybe I can teach you something else to pass the time."
"Madge!" Mrs. Hawthorne called out.
The boy had turned, watched as Gale's mother leveled him in a sharp look before huffing and stalking off.
Madge doesn't know how she'll ever be able to repay her or Gale for keeping her and her mother from being drowned in the debris filled lake.
Despite his taking charge of them, keeping them with his family, Madge still can't bring herself to tell him all the things leading them to this miserable point. Her father's death is a raw wound that she's covered with ash and is trying to ignore. She has her mother, who is doing surprisingly well despite the stress of the past few days, to take care of, and she can't let herself process it all quite yet.
Breaking down will come later, but not now.
"It gets easier," Gale finally says, his voice just a whisper. "It never goes away, but it gets better."
Madge nods again, feels tears begin prickling at the backs of her eyes, and sniffles.
When the silence settles over them again, she feels his hand again, this time on her head.
Gently, Gale strokes her tangled hair, brushes his fingers through it. Madge feels her eyes flutter shut at the sensation.
"Lay back down," he tells her.
She starts to argue, but his fingers through her hair have an almost hypnotic effect on her, making her eyelids heavy and her head foggy. Without a word of protest, Madge nods, shifts a bit in her spot, and settles back down next to her mother.
Gale scoots over, props himself up against the tree his family had taken up residence under, then, just as gently as before, begins stroking Madge's hair.
Brushing it off her neck, his calloused fingers graze the skin and send a shiver up her spine. He twirls it between his fingers and gently combs it.
Madge feels herself start to drift to sleep finally, her mind relaxed, focused on the feeling of Gale's fingers against her scalp, hoping terrified dreams of her father's death don't wake her again.
#######
She wakes to screaming, terrified stampeding and crying all around her.
Madge shoots up to find the sky still a gloomy gray and the air still thick as everyone scrambles around them.
Her mother is squinting into the distance, at the source of everyone's distress, and Madge quickly rubs her eyes, the dust and sleep from them before trying to figure out what's gotten everyone so upset. That's when she spots them.
Three large hovercrafts, dull and heavy, not the sort of thing anyone would expect to move so effortlessly in the sky, are quickly and noisily approaching.
The Hawthornes aren't anywhere to be seen, and Madge quickly assumes they're with Gale, already down trying to scour the surroundings for anything edible. They're always leaving Madge and her mother cocooned in their safe little nest and it annoys her to no end, though considering the current situation she has better things to do than mull over the fact that even Posy is considered more capable of scavenging than Madge.
"Mom! Up!" Madge grabs her mother's hand and pulls her easily from the ground, out of the way of the frantic feet of the survivors.
She starts to run, follow the frantic crowd out into the wood, but then she glances back at the hovercraft.
It isn't sleek and silent like the ones she's seen before, when she's been at her father's side to receive especially important guest from the Capitol,these are loud, large, hard to miss. Whoever is in these hovercrafts want to be seen, they aren't sneaking up on anyone.
It's Thirteen.
Stopping dead in her tracks, Madge turns and stares up disbelieving as the airships slow on approach, open their lower decks and send a group of people down to the ground.
"Madge!" Gale appears, in a dead run, from the trees to her left.
Just as one of the people, a soldier by the look of him, reaches Madge, so does Gale. He grabs her by the wrist and pulls her from the soldiers reach, holding her against his chest and shielding her mother.
"Who are you?" He demands, glaring at the man, looking as if he'll beat him within an inch of his life if he gives the wrong answer despite the fact that Gale is dressed in ragged clothes, his skin is burned, and one of his arms is injured.
The soldier flips the visor covering his eyes up, revealing that he's actually a she, and gives Gale a quick once over. "Gale Hawthorne?"
Despite the look of confusion that flickers over his features, Gale keeps his hold on Madge as he nods.
The woman gives him a tight smile. "We were hoping you'd survived."
Gale doesn't so much as crack a smile at that, but Madge feels a little 'hmph' vibrate through his chest.
"We've come to retrieve you," the woman says, squinting out at the forest where survivors have stopped running and are watching the scene curiously. "All of you."
"How do we know you're who you say you are?" Gale eyes her suspiciously. "How do we know you aren't some trick by the Capitol?"
"Why would we be standing here talking to you if we were the Capitol?"
"Maybe you're taking us somewhere to use as an example," Gale offers, pulling Madge more tightly to him. She can feel his hot breath coming in quick puffs on her skin. "Prove who you are."
The woman laughs. "She said you'd be a tough customer. Told us just to tase you and drag you behind the hovercraft, it would be easier."
Gale's grip loosens. "Who?"
"Soldier Alameda, she sent us a message before communications went down, told us you were still alive. Unfortunately, she's notorious for her inventive interpretations of the truth, so we weren't sure what we'd find." She grimaces. "She's…not exactly our favorite person to deal with."
From behind her Gale shifts, lets the hand wrapped around Madge's middle loosen a little, though he doesn't drop it.
"Mine either."
Madge glances up and sees a small smile grow on his face. "You sure you have enough room on there for everyone?"
#######
It's cold on the hovercraft. Despite being crammed in, crushed against one another, the metal steals all the warmth hundreds of human bodies should've produced.
Madge pulls her mother close as they settle in next to the Hawthornes against one of the frigid walls of the hovercraft, mimicking Mrs. Everdeen who is doing the same for Prim.
They've already been warned the flight will be several hours long.
"The added weight slows us down," one of the soldiers had explained.
It didn't matter much to anyone how long it took, the fact that they were being saved from the smoky woods was all anyone seemed to care about. Still, it wouldn't hurt if their rescuers passed out a few blankets.
With Vick on her right and her mother curled into her left, leaching whatever little bit of body heat she could from them combined with the sway of the hovercraft as it floated through the sky, Madge feels her eyes grow heavy. She isn't comfortable, anything but, the cold and the worry over what really awaits them in Thirteen has her stomach rolling unpleasantly, but her body is exhausted and she finds herself drifting off despite wanting to stay awake until Gale comes back. He's off talking to the leader of the group, the woman that they'd met earlier, and Madge is curious what she'd wanted to tell him.
Her tired eyes win out though, and she soon finds herself slumped over, finally giving in to sleep.
#######
When Madge wakes she's considerably warmer. Something has wrapped itself around her, enveloping her in a comfortable heat, and she doesn't even open her eyes, just nuzzles deeper into it.
Her bed always was warm.
Her eyes fly open when she remembers she has no bed, no room, no house, and whatever lovely warmth is around her isn't her comforter.
Whatever it is, it's alive. She feels it moving, slowly and rhythmically, breathing against her. They smell of earth and smoke, several days' worth of tramping through the woods, but it isn't completely unpleasant. Turning her head, her nose bumps into a worn and dirty miner's shirt, a patch bearing the name 'Gale'.
Madge's heart stutters in her chest. He must've come back and positioned himself between Madge and Vick. She isn't sure why, but she finds herself not caring too much.
Tilting her head up, she peers at him through her stringy bangs. His head is lolled over, resting against Vick's hair, and his mouth is slightly open as he snores softly. The stubble on his cheeks is slowly approaching a full blown beard, thick and dark as it is and there's a layer of grime on his skin, making it darker than usual.
He has his arms wrapped, one around Vick, and the other Madge, keeping both of them settled firmly against him. Madge can feel the pads of his fingers, calloused and rough, pressed into the sliver of exposed skin on her back, between her blouse and her skirt, and she shivers, rousing him.
Bleary eyed, Gale straightens up, blinks several times before looking over at Madge. "We there?"
Madge shakes her head and casts her eyes down to her legs, where she finds her mother sleeping contentedly. She can feel a blush flooding her face and doesn't want him to see it.
"Hn," Gale grunts, shifting a little and popping his back loudly. "Going back to sleep then."
He settles back, arms still around his brother and Madge, as though it's the most natural thing in the world, and closes his eyes.
Heart still beating furiously, Madge seizes the moment, letting herself settle back against Gale's side.
As her eyes drift shut again, sleep comes all too easy with Gale's warmth around her, she feels Gale's fingers brushing softly against the skin on her back.
Opening her eyes, she peaks up at him.
His eyes are still closed, halfway to sleep, and his face gives no indication that he realizes what he's doing. It's seemingly completely an absent gesture, and Madge considers telling him to stop, but her voice doesn't seem to want to work.
Instead, she closes her eyes and slips into a restful sleep.
#######
"Madge," Gale's hot breath on her ear, his soft voice, wakes Madge from her slumber.
He nudges her, softly pushes her up from where she'd slumped over more onto him, and grimaces.
"Oh, Gale, your arm." Madge turns and helps him gingerly free himself from between Madge and the wall of the hovercraft. He'd injured it during the fire, and despite Mrs. Everdeen's efforts, it's still tender.
"Probably needs a sling," Mrs. Everdeen had sighed on that first day in the woods. "Not that we'd be able to keep it on you."
Gale had grinned at that. There was too much to do, for him to do, for him to let something as trivial as an injury slow him down with a sling.
Now though, his days of activity are catching up with him, and Madge hopes District Thirteen has a medical ward.
"You shouldn't've done that," Madge tells him as he rubs his shoulder and makes a face.
"You were shivering," Gale points out. "You were freezing."
Madge almost rolls her eyes and tells him she wasn't even close to freezing, but stops herself. A considerable part of her doesn't want to shy him of trying to warm her again in the future, when his shoulder is better.
Instead she just clicks her tongue and shakes her head. "That was very chivalrous of you."
Gale looks up with a grin and is about to say something, when someone beats him to it.
"It was," Madge hears her mother sigh as she sits up, smiling airily at Gale.
Face flushing, Madge mumbles a 'sorry about her' to Gale and stares at her lap.
She expects him to turn from her, back to his family who are all now awake and chattering about the flight, but he doesn't. For several long seconds, as Madge stares at her filthy skirt, Gale simply watches her. Then as she thinks he's giving her up, something warm inches under the back hem of her shirt and pinches her.
She nearly jumps out of her skin, much to Gale's amusement.
"Ticklish?"
Madge shoots him a dark look and pushes his hand from under her shirt. He just continues to smirk.
As she's about to threaten to pinch him back, something she's positive she isn't bold enough to actually do, her stomach seems to move, shift inside her. Her eyes widen as she looks up at Gale to see if he'd felt it too.
"We're slowing down," he says, his gray eyes scanning the ceiling of the craft then out over the oblivious survivors. "We must be there."
#######
They herd them out, down little ramps that clatter and bang, threaten to collapse under the heavy feet of the District Twelve survivors, into a cavernous room with dull, flickering lights and men in gray uniforms waiting around the edges.
"Everyone must go through inspection to make sure you aren't carrying parasites or communicable diseases," a chilly woman's voice tells them overhead. "Please form orderly lines at an inspector you are directed to."
The men in gray, what looks to be hundreds of them, come out into the crowd and begin taking names, sending individuals and families off to queues.
They direct the Everdeens away, then the Hawthornes, then they come to Madge.
"Name?" the man with overly large front teeth and a nasally voice asks.
"Madge Undersee," she gestures to her mother, "and Matilda Undersee."
His bushy eyebrows arch. "Undersee? As in the Mayor?"
Uncertain, Madge nods.
A small, unpleasant smile forms on the man's thin lips. "I'm afraid you'll need to go to the debriefing room."
He snaps his finger and a pair of large men, almost as big as Gale, come up and take Madge and her mother by the arms, shoving them roughly toward the back of the room, away from where everyone else was being sent.
"Why do I have to go to debriefing?" Madge asks, digging her heels in as her heart speeds up. She doesn't know anything, and her mother most definitely doesn't know anything, they don't have anything to tell.
"As the daughter and wife of the Capitol's representative in Twelve we need to take you in to custody, just until we can ensure you aren't sympathetic to the regime."
Madge feels her mother's hand squeeze tighter, and when she catches her out the corner of her eye she sees what little color her mother had has drained out. Even she knows something is wrong.
"They aren't 'sympathetic' to the Capitol," Madge hears Gale growl right before she's jerked from the men's grasp and pulled roughly against his chest. "And they aren't going anywhere."
"Mr. Hawthorne, you must understand, we need to-"
"She risked her life to warn us what was coming. She could've saved herself and her family and left the rest of us to burn but she didn't." Gale narrows his eyes. "You aren't taking her anywhere and if you try I'll make you eat your clipboard."
The man makes a noise, sucking air through his protruding teeth, and glares at Gale.
After several seconds of grumbling, shooting Gale nasty looks, the man finally relents.
"Fine," he spits. "Take her to line-"
"They're coming with me," Gale cuts him off, pressing his palm to the small of Madge's back and steering her away from the man.
Heart still pounding, Madge swallows down bile and looks over her shoulder at Gale.
His face is set, jaw clenched and eyes focused on where his family had been sent as he pushes Madge through the thinning crowd, her mother trailing after them.
"Gale," Madge starts, biting her lip. "You shouldn't-Thank you."
For the briefest of seconds his eyes flicker down to her, and he smiles. "Don't mention it."
#######
The inspector combs through their greasy, knotted hair, checking for lice and bugs and any number of other things. She checks in their mouths, blinds them with a light, listens to their lungs and hearts before drawing a small sample of blood.
"Move up to the history, missy," the elderly woman tells them, directing them to a chubby girl with pig tailed hair, sitting at a table with a small stack of papers on it.
Taking her mother's hand, Madge pulls her along, up to the table, nestled between the Everdeens and the Hawthornes. Gale refuses to let them move Madge and her mother from his eyesight, threatening the boy that had tried to speed up the line by sending Madge and her mother several lines down.
The girl, her name badge says 'Seren', smiles cheerfully at them, before rattling off a series of questions.
"Family history first. Any heart or blood pressure problems, lung problems, gastrointestinal or urinary problems? Strokes, seizures, epilepsy? Genetic defects?"
Madge racks her brain, trying to think of any problems her family has ever had, but can't think of any. She's never really asked.
"Oh," her mother sighs. "My father had a stroke, and Madge's grandmother on her father's side had childhood asthma."
"She did?" Madge frowns, she'd never asked her father about his family's medical history, she'd never thought she'd have to know, he'd always be there.
Her mother nods serenely.
"Well, and one of my dad's sister's-"
"Do you need personal history next, dear?" Madge's mother cuts her off, much to Madge's annoyance.
The girl nods and presses her pen to the tablet expectantly.
"Migraines, for me, and that's all." Madge's mother presses her fingers to her temples to demonstrate the severity of her ailment.
It takes great restraint for Madge not to add morphling addiction and depression to her mother's list for her. Instead, she shakes her head. "I don't have any history."
With a nod, the girl takes their papers and adds them to her stack before sending them on, or at least trying to. Gale snaps his fingers and shakes his head, clearly telling Madge not to take another step before his family has been sent on to.
It takes another several minutes before Mrs. Hawthorne finishes listing off all the ailments that have befallen her children over their lives, ending with Posy's bought of measles, then they move on too, enveloping Madge and her mother in their group.
"Why do they need all this information?" Gale asks, shooting the skinny boy that had taken his family history a dark look.
Madge shrugs. It doesn't make much sense to her, but then again, Thirteen isn't supposed to exist, maybe this is how they've survived, by being stringent about admitting people into their fold.
They're led to another large room. It has high ceilings and better lighting, white and bright and blinding for the first few minutes before their eyes adjust to the glare.
There are hundreds of long tables, set up with toiletries of every kind, towels and washrags, combs, and toothbrushes as well as small basins that can be filled with water.
The group gathers up their necessities and settles over in a corner to clean up and wait for the next phase of the entry into Thirteen.
Madge fills a basin for both her mother and her and washes her face, scrubs off several layers of grim and filth, then combs the knots and tangles out of her hair. She almost feels alive again.
Once she's dried off, let herself be amused by Vick and Rory trying to splash each other with their dirty water, Madge glances over to Gale.
He's washed up, but his shoulder is still bothering him as he tries in vain to shave. His arm just won't cooperate and the inspector had put it in a sling, further hindering him.
When he nicks his chin, curses under his breath, Madge scoots away from her mother and over to him.
"Do you need some help?"
Gale grimaces as he rinses his razor off in the basin, shaking his head. "I'll get it eventually."
Glancing back at his mother, who is still struggling with Posy and won't be able to help him for several minutes at least, Madge holds her hand out. "I can help."
"I'd like to keep my nose, thanks," he chuckles, taking the razor back to his face.
Madge rolls her eyes and reaches out, snatching it from his hand and popping up on her knees.
"I used to help my Poppa shave when I was little. Then my dad, and occasionally my dad had me practice on Mr. Abernathy while he was passed out." She rinses it in the basin again before holding it up and raising her eyebrows. "Trust me?"
Staring at her for a minute, inspecting her for any hint she's joking, Gale finally nods. "Don't bleed me out."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
Carefully, Madge cleans up the parts he's already worked on before cleaning the razor and beginning on the rest. It takes a few minutes, his beard is coarse and thick, taking more than one swipe to smooth his skin, but eventually she finishes.
"There, still have a nose and most of your blood even."
Gale runs his hand over his face, one cheek then the other, his jaw line and chin, then smiles. "Not bad."
Someone whistles, and when Madge turns she spots Rory and Vick, making kissy faces at Gale.
"Shut up," he growls at them, slapping the water in his basin towards them, causing them to shriek.
Rory rolls out of the line of fire, up onto his feet, and grins. "Shoulda left the hair, Madge. It improved his looks. The less we see of Gale's face the better."
With that he takes off, clearly expecting retaliation from Gale.
"That little asshole is gonna get it," Gale grumbles.
As Gale slowly gets to his feet, probably to chase Rory down, a man in one of the now familiar gray outfits of the District Thirteen administrators comes over.
"Mr. Gale Hawthorne?" He asks, looking somewhat unimpressed.
Gale nods. "What?"
The man straighten up, gives Gale another once over, then gestures to the door. "I was sent to retrieve you. There's a matter that needs your attention."
Gale frowns. "A 'matter that needs my attention'?" He narrows his eyes. "What?"
"I'm afraid I can't tell you that."
"Then I'm afraid I can't go with you," Gale tells him curtly, turning back to Madge and rolling his eyes.
"Mr. Hawthorne-"
"You're just trying to trick me," Gale snaps as he turns back to the man, shielding Madge from sight and drawing himself up and looming over the man. "You're trying to get me away so you can snatch Madge and her mother away, aren't you?"
Madge feels her stomach drop. She hadn't even thought of that.
Stuttering, the man backs up. "No, I assure you, we aren't going to take Miss Undersee or her mother anywhere. They've received clearance. This is another matter entirely."
"What matter?" Gale growls. "I'm not coming without a reason."
The man's eyes dart around, considering what he's gotten himself into, a bead of sweat forms on his brow and trickles down the side of his face then to his neck as he thinks. Finally, he sighs.
"They-they've requested for your presence. For when Katniss Everdeen wakes up."
Gale's eyes widen.
"I'm to bring her mother and sister too," the man adds, gesturing to where Mrs. Everdeen and Prim are sitting, still cleaning up, oblivious to what's going on behind them.
For several seconds, Gale stares at the man, gauging his sincerity, then he sighs.
He turns back to his family and gestures to Madge. "Keep an eye on her."
His mother nods, eyes narrowed on the man her son is about to leave with.
Squatting down, Gale focuses his eyes on Madge, holding her in a steady gaze. "Don't go with anyone."
He doesn't wait for an answer, just gets up and follows behind the man, through the somewhat less grimy group of survivors, before vanishing across the room, leaving Madge with an uncertain feeling in the pit of her stomach.
#######
Gale doesn't come back for several hours, not until after the families are assigned to apartments and long after Madge has been snatched away from his family.
They wait in long lines, getting progressively hungrier, thirstier, and sleepier as the people of Thirteen pass them clothes: shapeless garments all the same hopeless shade of gray as if to drive home the fact that there's no sun and they may all not see it for a very long time. Best get used to it.
"Madge and her mom are with us," Vick had told the old woman making the room assignments when they'd all changed out of their smoky, sweaty clothes and into their drab District Thirteen clothes. "My brother said so."
"Is she his wife?" the old woman had asked in a croaky voice.
"No," Mrs. Hawthorne had begun, "but-"
"No 'buts', ma'am. Only married couples or families are allowed to board together. She and her mother will share with another single parent family."
Despite loud protests by both Vick and Rory, the old woman won't change her mind and Madge and her mother are soon placed in an apartment with a middle aged woman and her two noisy children.
Mrs. Hawthorne frowns deeply as the woman and her two children vanish down the hall to the elevators that will lead lower into Thirteen and then to Madge's new apartment. "Gale isn't going to like this."
Madge shrugs. She doubts Gale will give her so much as a passing thought now that Katniss is back in the picture.
She mentally slaps herself. That isn't fair. Katniss is her friend and she's known Gale longer. He belongs with Katniss, he always has, no matter what else is happening.
Vick throws his arms around her, pressing his chin into her shoulder; he's gotten taller over the past year. "You can still come up and stay with us."
Posy nods from her mother's hip, her eyes drooping. The day has been entirely too long for her, even if she'd gotten a nap in the middle.
Madge wants to tell them she'll come up every day, play games with them and read to them, but she knows this is the end of that adventure. Things are shifting back, just like they had after the last Games.
Katniss is back and with her return is a return to the old system, and Madge's place in it isn't one she enjoys.
There'll be no playing with Vick, reading to Posy, or teasing Rory. No flirting with Gale.
The Hawthornes belong to Katniss, Madge was only borrowing them, keeping them warm for her. Now it's time to back off, give them back, even if it hurts.
Instead of telling them all that, explaining the complicated web of social protocol she's having to navigate, Madge just smiles, nods, and takes her mother by the arm.
She's being cast into the dark pit of District Thirteen, far from the Hawthornes and the Everdeens, and she thinks that might be for the best. It'll make extracting herself from them that much easier. Avoiding them, finding ways to move without running into them, will be much simpler living several floors away.
"See you," she tells them, even though she doesn't think she will.
