"Primrose Everdeen."

Effie Trinket smiled at the name with her head held high, oblivious to the consternation and anger bubbling up from the crowd.

'No,' was the only thought in Gale Hawthorne's head as he swiveled around to search for Katniss, just locking in on her as her eyes rolled back in her head and she nearly toppled over. Gale wasn't even thinking about Prim in her helpless youth, slowly shuffling in disbelief to the makeshift stage where she would be "congratulated" by Effie Trinket. Gale was only thinking of one person, of Katniss Everdeen – for he could predict what happened next.

"I volunteer!" Katniss screamed above the murmuring crowd, pushing through the lines of children that were organized in pens as if for slaughter. "I volunteer!" she screamed, now reaching where Prim was and pushing the child protectively behind her. "I will take her place," she said, gathering her courage and putting on a resolute calm forced for the cameras.

Effie Trinket's utterly confused visage would have been laughable in any other situation. Collecting herself swiftly, she laughed and said, "That usually comes after we introduce the tribute, but I suppose under these circumstances…"

And that was all Gale heard, for his ears were ringing too badly for concentration, and his eyes blacked out. He managed to keep his balance somehow and though his sight returned slowly, he could feel a thousand eyes trained on him. Everybody in District 12 knew how close Katniss and Gale were to each other. He had no word for what they were, and he has labored tirelessly to try to find it. In the beginning it was a simple definition; hunters, traders, protectors. Then they became friends. About six months ago, the definition got a little hazy…

His senses returned just in time to see Effie Trinket's hand swirling around in a large container that resembled a fish bowl. Katniss stood firmly in what would pass for a good semblance of courage to anyone who did not know her as well as Gale knew her. With a flourish Effie Trinket chose and read a boy's name aloud; with a spark of recognition he heard the name Mellark. The baker's son. His father pays well for squirrels when his awful wife isn't home. He saw the boy around school occasionally, for theirs was a small district, but never met him.

Gale looked at Peeta's muscular frame and thought the baker's body was built well for the circumstances and thought he might do well in the Games, despite the copious tears sliding down his face. Gale wondered for a moment if it was all an act to win the Games by deceiving his opponents into believing he was weak. He didn't spend much time debating the issue, because it didn't matter.

Peeta Mellark could never win the Hunger Games. He would never even have a chance.

Gale raised his voice loudly over the crowd so that not a single person would mistake his words, "I volunteer."

Comment and let me know if you like it and if I should continue. This is a little short because it's to set up the story. Thanks for reading!