Disclaimer:- I don't own any characters or the 'Hunger Games Trilogy'. It rightfully belongs to Suzanne Collins.
All I own is the plotline to this particular fanfic only.
You let her die! Just like that! You killed her!
His eyes opened up, feeling awake already. Sitting right up, he waited for his vision to focus that had been unfazed by the nightmare he just saw. Breathingly heavily, he ran a shaking hand through his sweaty hair. Gooseflesh could be felt across his entire body. Though it wasn't cold enough,they were not ready to settle down at all.
How could you? I TRUSTED YOU!
It didn't help that a massive headache took over. Rubbing his forehead to ease some of the pain, he blindly reached for the glass of water on his nightstand only to have it shatter on the ground. Hell's teeth! This day couldn't start off better than this.
I HATE YOU!
Even after all these years, the nightmares never ceased to exist. It was as if the nightmare, the guilt of it all, was ingrained in his subconscious. It took him years to make himself believe that it wasn't his fault, that he was not the one to be put up for blame. Not the one to be responsible for her death. But who was he to fool. The guilt never left him. Never seemed to be leaving him. And it does not look like it will get any better in the future for that matter.
It was way too dark to be a morning, he decided. His eyes quickly scanned the clock on his nightstand by his bedside.
3:02 am.
Not unusual at all.
Looking into the dark recesses of his room, he leaned against his headboard. He had nothing to do till sleep overtook him, allowing his thoughts to race through his mind.
. . . . .
"Thanks Dad! It the best christmas present ever!" He beemed at his dad who was standing proudly with a hand around Hazelle's waist.
"Gale! What in the world are you doing? Mommy told you not to put your erasor in your mouth! Spit it out! Now!" Hazelle hissed to her 8 year old son.
A smile lit up his face, his days before he turned 14 were the most non-struggling days he ever had to live in.
"Here, let me kiss the pain away," she whispered kissing over the bandage on the elbow.
"Mommy! Gale beat me up!" Rory yelled through heavy tears.
"Just remember, stealing's punishable by death," Catnip snickered only to have him snort at the retort.
"And may the odds-," he began, "-be ever in your favour." She ended.
"Don't let them starve!" She cried while hugging him closer to her.
"Prim left us a cheese," says Katniss through a soft smile.
His blood suddenly ran cold, and he new his thoughts were advancing into the territory they were not supposed to. The territory he had forbidden himself to delve over.
His face contorted into that of pain and anger as images flashed through his mind, Prim's last moments. He could imagine her, her blue eyes wide and frantic, fire all around her reflecting in them. And in a moment, they meet his. A silent plea it bore...
Please...
Pushing his palms into his eyes, he failed to stop the tears that silently ran down his cheeks. Sobs started to wreck his body, more than they ever did in awhile. He was supposed to protect her! She was his responsibility! She was his family goddammit!
Ever so slightly he felt a hand, as soft as a breeze, rest on his forearm, urging him to look its way. Eyes rimmed red, he diverted his gaze to his left.
Panic started to settle in as soon as he caught sight of wisps of blond hair and a pair of blue eyes.
He knew he was on the brink of his sanity. He has completely lost it. He knew it.
The eyes, oceanic blue, beckoned him towards it. And he knew it wasn't what he thought it was. Or rather it wasn't the person who he thought the eyes belonged to. He reminiscenced Prim having soft baby blue eyes.
These eyes were nothing like those. They possessed the same ferocity as that of an ocean, threatening to drown everything it willed to. But at the same time possessed the softness as that of Prim's eyes. There was knowledge in those eyes and the depths of it could belong to no one but one person in the entire Panem.
"Shhhh..." She seemed to whisper. She brought up a hand, as soft and gentle as the caress of wind, and touched his cheek as if to reassure him that its alright. It's all okay.
Gale, still in daze, leaned into the touch, breathing in the smell of wildflower. The touch was cool, much contradictory to his now hot face.
He held his own hand above hers and as if still confused by the way things were turning out, whispered "Madge?"
Her smile seemed to have brought the entire room to life as the remnants of Gale's dream vanished into thin air. His eyes focused on her eyes only.
He leaned in, so that there foreheads were touching and silently lost himself in her eyes, silently begging for her forgiveness. Smiling back, she apologized all she wanted.
As if receiving her approval, Gale leaned in, so that there lips just grazed and he completely lost himself in her. Closing his eyes, all he could feel was her lips, soft against his, just the way it felt before he left her to die in the bombings.
He felt his regrets wash away, she seemed to be absorbing all of his guilt, his pain. He gently leaned back so that his back was against the bed and she leaned over him.
"Madge, I-I am so sorry, I couldn't-,", "I just-", "Its all my fault," he whispered.
Breathing her last into him, she replied, "It's no one's fault. Just the way it is..."
Beep Beep Beep.
He woke up with a start. No, no, no, no, no, NO! This can't be happening! He reached forward for that cool, ferocious yet gentle blue eyed blonde with a shakinghand in the dark of the night.
Please be there! Please...he pleaded to thin air. But thats what he got.
Thin air.
He could plead all he want. But it wouldn't matter. What was done was done and for the first time in his life Gale found himself not at all believing what he previously held as his driving instinct... 'There's still some room for improvement.'
Still appalled by what could be the most worst and the best nightmare/dream, he promised to live a better life, live a life in Prim's name, in all those friend's and comarades'name, he had lost in the war.
But most of all, he would live it for Madge. The only person who taught him to fight for the right reasons. The only person who made him see the newfound courage and told him not to cower. Who gave him the promise, the strength to come out on top no matter what the cost. And so he will.
Breathing peacefully, he dropped his head back onto his pillow looking onto the watch on the nightstand before he was dead to the world.
3:02 am
Not unusual at all.
A/N:- Okay then, love you all and hope to see you guys soon!
Reviews wouldn't hurt when I come back :D!