Welcome! I've been working on this fic (on and off) for the past couple of years and have really rewritten it thanks to inspiration from one of my parenting classes. I hope you enjoy it!

A lot of this chapter is setting up the world. The only real change from the books that you need to know of is that Madge (and her father) survived the bombing of District 12. They weren't given any special treatment, they just went to District 13 with everyone else. I hope that's all the clarification you need to get started - let me know if you have any questions!

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games

Madge wakes up with the worst headache she's ever had. She can hear her roommate moving around their small kitchen just outside her door, presumably getting ready for her day. With a groan Madge rolls to look at her clock hanging on the wall. She has work in an hour or so which means she really should get out of bed.

It's been four years since the war and Madge still can't believe how much things have changed.

She rolls another time to sit up and her mattress squeaks loudly under her weight. Madge is a long ways away from her old life as the mayor's daughter (though Leon Undersee is technically still the mayor of District 12, happily restructuring and reshaping their once rubble riddled home) and lacks almost all of the luxuries she had in her mansion. Her new apartment is actually pretty old. It was built long before the war with bricks and wood and the pipes are constantly settling and resettling. The list of repairs that need to be made get longer every day. The sinks leak, the hot water heater is broken, and the electricity barely works.

But Madge (and her roommate) pays for it all on her own and she's proud of that.

She scrubs at her face and stands from her bed before padding out to greet her roommate. Lora, a peppy girl with long blue-black hair from District 6, is standing at the counter and angrily hitting their small and inefficient coffee pot. The two of them work together at the Panem Outreach Program (POP for short) and met right after the war had ended. Both had left their homes looking to start fresh, and both had ended up in District 2 in their search for something new. They've been roommates ever since.

"Is it broken again?" Madge asks tiredly, and Lora answers her with a groan. That means they're going to have to leave a few minutes earlier and stop at the shop on the corner of the street. "I really could've used that today," Madge murmurs.

"I'll bet," Lora says. "I heard you come in at… what was it, four in the morning? Five?" Madge ignores her friend and opens one of the cabinets before pulling out a chipped glass. She runs the water for a few seconds before filling up her cup. "Where were you?"

Madge drinks her water in three big gulps before placing her cup in the sink. She tilts her head at Lora and makes a face. The water has an aftertaste of copper – another thing they should add to the list of repairs.

"I was out," Madge answers. Lora rolls her eyes very obviously before whacking their coffee pot another time. "I don't really want to talk about it," Madge continues.

"That's because you smell like vodka and look like you were hit by a bus," Lora says. Madge mimics her friend and rolls her eyes as well.

Madge had a late night. It doesn't happen very often, or ever really, and so she doesn't want to talk about it.

Along with her living conditions and her move out to District 2 rather than returning home with her father after the war ended, that's another thing that's changed. Madge is noticed by people. By men, specifically, and it's amazing. She went her entire childhood being ignored and teased for being the mayor's daughter but now people see her. The attention is refreshing, it makes her feel important on her own terms.

She disappears into the bathroom without responding to her roommate and turns on the shower. Madge doesn't wait for the water to get hot because she knows it isn't going to, and then she climbs into the tub. Her shower is quick but afterwards she feels clean and awake even though her headache is still there. She also doesn't smell like vodka anymore which is good.

To put it simply, last night was… different.

Madge had gone to the bar for a few drinks to relax after work. A new position had opened up and she interviewed for the job. The Panem Outreach Program is very heavily involved in communicating with other countries to establish trade systems and treaties. The new position allows for visitation to Augmentum, the continent directly south of New Panem, to establish direct relationships with the various countries. It's so rare to get travel allowance and that's one of the main reasons Madge joined POP in the first place.

So when she found out about the job opening she interviewed immediately and went straight to the bar to relax. To de-stress. To breathe and not get her hopes up too high.

And out of all of the people to be in the same exact bar as her it had to be him.

Madge wraps her wet hair up in a towel and tries to rid herself the memories of last night. Not that they're bad memories, because he was very talented with his tongue and his hands and mouth in general (just like the rumors that whistled through the district when they were younger), but because it was him.

Madge never should've gotten into bed with Gale Hawthorne.

She knew he was in District 2, everyone knew Gale was in District 2. He hadn't returned home after the war – the expanding security forces of New Panem had their base in 2 and they had plucked him straight from District 13 the minute the war had ended for his expertise and leadership. He was a big name, and a big pain in the ass.

They saw each other every now and then but chose not to speak. Their playful banter from District 12 had died down once Katniss had been reaped into the Hunger Games (twice!), and almost all communication had stopped in District 13. They were on different paths of life and that was okay. There was no need to beat a dead horse.

But then they were both in District 2 and Madge thought that might change things, but it didn't. They chose not to speak. It was easier to do that then pretend they cared about one another and how they were doing. All Madge had to do to find out how he was doing anyway was just turn on the news. He was all over it. War Hero Hawthorne.

"Let's go, Madge," Lora says as she bangs on Madge's door, pulling her from her thoughts of the night. From the bar, from Gale's mouth… "We're going to be late!"

Gale isn't sure he's ever going to get used to New Panem.

He places his travel mug into the cup holder of his car and after buckling he shifts it into drive. Just years ago Gale thought he was going to spend his entire life working in the mines underground. He wasn't content with that, but it's what he had accepted. Now he has his own car, his own apartment in a high rise building in the best part of District 2, a personal coffee machine, enough money to keep him and his family back in 12 going… the list is endless. He's been doing this routine for years now and he's certain he's never going to get used to it.

He pulls into the parking lot at headquarters and is relieved his coffee is cool enough to drink. Years ago he hadn't even ever had a taste of coffee and now he has a machine in his apartment to drink a cup a day. It's one of his many addictions he just can't seem to shake.

Gale strides into his office with his mug in his hand and flashes his ID at the woman at the front desk.

"You're late," someone greets him with a clap on the back. Benny, Gale's second in command, is always too cheerful in the morning. "We just got the reports in from the attack last night, Chief didn't want to start until you were here." Gale increases his speed ever so slightly and they walk side by side down the thin hallway to the security chief.

"Catch me up," Gale murmurs, and Benny launches into his speech.

New Panem is certainly better than the old Panem. There're no Hunger Games. There's no system in place keeping the poor hungry and giving the rich everything they want and more. There're no peacekeepers that keep the citizens living in fear. There's no one president making all of the awful decisions and sending the country into a downward spiral (there's a group of people now, and even if President Paylor was making decisions on her own Gale's sure she'd keep the country running smoothly). But there are still struggles.

There's a group of extremists that's been quickly on the rise. They're, from what researchers and undercover investigators can tell, formed from the old elite. The powerful Capitol members that still have more money than they need, the District Royalty that ran trade routes and inter-district communication that kept the rich, rich.

"They've started calling themselves Panem's Protectors," Benny says as they take a sharp left. "They're spray painting PP all over the damn place." Gale smirks. Vick would get a kick out of that one.

Every couple of months or so the extremists will set off a bomb, but more recently the explosions are getting closer together. They're trying to send a message and Gale's worried they're getting more and more ballsy. He's terrified they're going to switch from bombs to guns and that New Panem is going to have a damn civil war on their hands. They have an incredible amount of support from the upper class, and that scares the shit out of Gale.

"Where was the attack?" Gale asks. He hasn't heard about it on the news yet which means they're trying to keep it quiet which is good. Those bastards don't need any more attention – it's what feeds them.

"District 4," Benny says. "North East quadrant, near the railway station."

Gale's thoughts instantly go to Annie Odair and her son Keiran. When Finnick died during the war Gale promised himself he'd keep in contact with Annie and make sure she was doing okay, and he's been doing a decent job at it. They talk at least once a month but it's been a while since their last call. He looks to Benny and waits for further information.

"Any deaths?"

"Six," Benny says with a nod. Gale scrubs at his face. "And eighteen injuries."

He hesitates. "Anyone we know?"

Benny shakes his head. "I don't think so." That's a slight relief, but Gale still makes a mental note to call Annie and see how she is. He's positive that a bombing in her district is going to trigger something painful for her. "Chief wants to start deploying people to each district," Benny says. "She wants you back in uniform," Benny continues. "To help train teams." Gale rakes his hand over his face and nods. Before entering the room he knocks back the rest of his coffee and blinks hard another time to wake himself up. "She could've told you all this herself if you'd been on time."

"Shut up," Gale mutters.

"Where were you anyway? Late night?"

Gale sighs. "You don't even know."

Gale wears a uniform now. It's a cool navy blue that has his badges pinned to the left pocket. He wears it every day because it's required. He wears it to forget his Mockingjay uniform. But now his chief, a thin and intense woman named Delta Dracis, is asking him to don his Mockingjay uniform again to train others.

The thought of it makes him sick.

He's a little hungover, despite his morning shower and his large cup of coffee and the six pills he swallowed this morning to get rid of that feeling, and that certainly isn't helping either. He keeps his jaw clenched as she explains the details of her plan and his eyes focused on the file rather than on her. Gale likes his new position in security of the country. He likes being a leader. He likes making this country a better place. But he isn't sure he's going to be able to do this.

"Lieutenant Hawthorne," Delta says sharply, and he lifts his eyes. "Are you with us?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he murmurs. "I'm with you." What choice does he have? Extremists are bombing the country and upsetting the balance they've only just achieved. It's not okay, and Gale's going to do what he has to in order to bring it back. "When do we start?"

Gale never thought he'd enjoy a desk job, but he has. He likes paper work. He's had to get glasses ever since he's been reading so much, but they're not the worst thing in the world. He likes working with strategy and coming up with plans and options. Ever since the war the hands on work is too much. That's why he likes his desk job. That's why he took this job in District 2 in the first place. Because he doesn't have to do the things he wants to implement. He gets to see the change he wants to be made without having to do it himself.

Delta's asking too much. But he can't say no to a better tomorrow.

Benny's at the desk beside Gale's and is paging through the file. "It doesn't look like it'll be too much," his friend tells him. "You'll still be in the office a lot. It's mostly overseeing the generals that'll be training, not running the actual training, you know?"

"Sure," Gale murmurs. Benny closes the file and wheels his chair to look at Gale who huffs but doesn't look up from the paper work. "What," Gale asks.

Benny's only a year younger than Gale but he reminds him of a teenager. He's silly, a lot like Rory, and doesn't really know boundaries when it comes to personal questions. So Gale should really be prepared for when he asks, "You had a girl over last night, didn't you?" Gale arches an eyebrow in challenge and Benny shakes his head with a smug look on his face. "That's, what, the third this week?"

"Can you mind your own business for once in your life?" Gale asks.

Benny smirks. "Or is it the same girl?"

"Mind. Your own. Business." Benny rocks backwards in his chair and Gale frowns. He lifts his square rim glasses and crosses his arms over his chest. "What now, Benny?"

The man lifts his shoulders. "When's the last time you saw your doc?"

Gale drops his glasses back down and turns to his desk again. "This conversation is over," Gale mutters. He looks back down at the files detailing the plan for his training and another wave of nausea rolls through him.

Ever since leaving District 13 all of those years ago, Gale's had trouble sleeping. Alright, that's an understatement. Gale's had trouble being.

When Gale's not drinking himself to sleep he's in the entertainment sector of District 2, barhopping to find a girl to sleep with so he can stop thinking. And when he's not doing that he's popping so many pills to keep himself functioning that it's not even remotely funny. He sees things that aren't there, he hears things that aren't there, he feels things that aren't there.

So he has a doctor. A head doctor.

Gale didn't even know those things existed. In District 12 if someone was just a little out of whack people would pretend it wasn't happening. Miss Everdeen and the other healers would prescribe some sort of herbal medicine that supposedly helped. Gale had never even considered that there were doctors solely for people to talk to.

A shrink. A therapist. There are a whole bunch of names for these doctors. They were well known in the richer districts, and even the Capitol had a few. After the war it was a whole new branch of medicine that expanded very rapidly. Delta, the chief, ordered Gale see one of the head doctors if he wanted to work for her. And he did. He wanted to work in security so badly. So he went.

He's still going.

It's been three years.

In fact, he has an appointment tonight. But Benny doesn't need to know that.

Madge misses District 12.

She doesn't miss it enough that she's willing to go home, because she's not, but she does miss it. She misses Peeta and she misses Katniss, she misses her father. She misses the small homey feel of the entire district, she misses a time when everyone knew each other. She loved being able to walk anywhere she wanted to go and hates that now she has to get in a bus to get to work. District 2 is too big and too fast paced.

As she drinks the coffee she paid way too much for she climbs onto the big blue bus that's waiting at the stop. She doesn't know how to drive and frankly she's a little too scared to learn. Lora too. They take the bus to work every morning and home every evening. Their office is in the middle of the district, far away from their small crappy apartment, and the fare isn't too awful. It's just such an annoying routine.

"You never told me about your night, by the way," Lora remarks once they're seated. The drive isn't too long either, and sometimes when it's nice out Madge will make the walk. But that's potentially dangerous because, again, they're not in the best part of the district. "Was he hot?"

"Stop it," Madge says with a laugh. She blows into her coffee and shakes her head at her friend. "It was a one-time thing, alright?"

Lora shrugs. "Okay. He could still have been hot."

Madge blows into her coffee another time and tries to bite back her smile. She looks at the passengers around them then over at her friend. "Super-hot," Madge says quietly. Lora grins. "Like, how in the world is it even possible, hot. Only, he's a real asshole." Madge sinks backwards in her chair. "Just really, really, hot. And surprisingly… kind?"

"But also an asshole?"

"Also an asshole," Madge confirms with a laugh. Her memory of Gale at the bar isn't spotty, she remember most of it. His gentle hands, his stupid hero complex. But also the banter. The teasing that reminded her so much of when they were younger in District 12 when things weren't exactly simple, but somehow easier. "But, whatever, one-time thing," she says again. "In fact, if I never see him again then all the better."

A/N: If you hadn't picked up from the summary - this is an accidental pregnancy fic! If that's not your thing I understand, but that is the main premise of this story. No hard feelings if you want to bail. Other subject matter contains PTSD, mentions of abortion and adoption, extremists/terrorists, and conversations about personal self-worth. Most of your favorites will make an appearance at some point (save for Finnick and Prim, because they're both well... you know), so stick around for that! I hope you stick around! I've been working on this fic (on and off) for a couple of years now, and I'm super excited to be posting it. The goal is for one chapter a week but we'll see how that goes. Enjoy - let me know if you like it! x