A/N: So this is my first Hunger Games fanfiction. I decided to start writing it because I always find myself wondering about Gale's life after the rebellion so here is just an idea I have about how it could possibly end up. Also flashbacks are in italics.


Chapter One

His hands tell stories from before I knew him. They are marked in thin scars, callouses, and nails that won't seem to come clean. I've watched him scrub at the beds of his nails for hours until they are bleeding. He seems to notice the black rimming the edges of the nails and the cracks in his palms whenever he loses himself in thought.

I hold back my sigh as I watch him curse from the pain that scrubbing causes. I slowly make my way across the room and enter the bathroom. He doesn't bother to look at me even though I know he's heard my entrance. I reach around him and shut the water off to the sink. Still he stares at his hands. I know what he is thinking about. He let it slip once when his defenses were down but I don't say anything. I don't bring it up, not now or ever. He likes the quiet.

I grab a towel from the near by rack and reach for his hands. They're stained and steady as I push the fabric to skin. I don't bother meeting his eyes I just dry off those hands. Out of the corner of my eye I see him nod. That nod is the only thanks I will get for stopping him and it's enough. I always tell myself whatever communication he has to offer is enough.

"My shift starts soon," I tell him before walking over to the shower and twisting the nob for the warm water. He grunts. I pull the thin nightgown over my head as steam starts to fill the small room. When I lived on the outskirts of two I never had a shower. We were lucky we had indoor plumbing but the water only ran cold so my mother had to heat it for us so we didn't bath everyday. That would have wasted my mother's energy and time.

I feel them before I look down at them, wrapped across my stomach; they cover most of the skin there. I know they're his hands. I feel his warm breath on my neck. I stiffen slightly and he places a kiss on my shoulder. "You could quit, you know?"

"What would I do? Sit around and wait for you? What possible good would it do if I quit?" I questioned, we had this same conversation most mornings. He sighs and moves one of his hands to my hair from my midsection. He moves the hair off my shoulder. "I can't play house with you. You've said so yourself before."

"I don't want to play house, I don't want to play any games," he gruffs. I move out of his grip and into the waiting shower. It's the same argument and it always ends the same way. This is our stalemate. He's good at fighting wars, he's good at surviving no matter the cost but so am I.

"I'm wasting water standing here," I say before jerking the curtain shut. He stands there for a second before he exits the bathroom. He hates waste and I knew that. I wanted him to concede for the time being.

"Have a nice day at work Gale," I call before hearing the front door shut.

I move through my morning routine and make my way into the hospital. This had been the first place I met Gale or Commander Hawthorne. He'd been injury in the redesign of the Nut.


"Its fine, just a little cut, that's all." He stated as I examined his hand. I ran the fingers over the deep gash in palm. He didn't wince like I expected for a cut that deep.

I had seen him, of course, everyone had seen him on the television with the Mockingjay during the war. He was boasted about and paraded through the streets of Two now that he was here. With his camera-ready looks he was pushed on screen to do interviews about the rebuilding of the districts and the army. He'd been placed in command of the army, which was basically nothing but men and boys who'd fought for the rebels and had no family to go back to.

"Just a few stitches Commander and you'll be good as new," I promised before reaching over to get the disinfected wipe. I moved it carefully around the open cut, collecting blood on the wipe. The bleeding had been stopped when he got here but the mess around it was still visible and the wound itself would likely start bleeding again without the stitches. I grabbed another disinfected wipe.

"They're dirty aren't they?" he asked and I halted my work to meet his eyes. Confusion must have been clear on my face because he continued, "my hands are stained from the mines."

"I hadn't noticed, Commander," I replied and he looked puzzled. I could tell he was trying to gage if I was being honest or polite.

"Oh," he sighed at determining I was being honest. I went back to work and quickly sewed up his hand. "Thank you, Nurse…"

"Aster," I replied and he nodded once. I left the room thinking I would never see Commander Hawthorne in person again.


"Imogen! " I heard a perky voice call as I entered the combination on my locker. I bit back the smile on my face as the little blond made her way over to me.

"Good morning, Silver," I cooed in response. Silver and I had some of the same physical features, we were both small in stature, we had large eyes and round faces that showed just how young we really are. However, her large eyes were bright blue and her round face was framed with blond hair. This was the opposite of mine, my eyes were hazel and my hair was brown.

"I'm glad we have this shift together, I haven't seen you in a while," she explained and I felt my smile falter. Silver had been my roommate at the nurses' barrack, which was located in the old school across the street.

Living in new Panem was an odd place to be. Everything was new like this hospital. It had been one of the first things built right after the war and to encourage nurses and healers to come work here the old school was converted into a barrack. We were our own type of solider. I remember Gale giving a speech to that affect when he was still just Commander Hawthorne to me.

"If you don't work tomorrow you can come over for lunch, Gale will be at work," I offered realizing I'd been missing my old friend.

"I don't know. I wouldn't want to start something between you and the Commander," she whispered before looking down at her hands. I felt the familiar surge of pride and anger burst through my chest. Silver had been my only person for almost a year after the war. Now there wasn't time for her or maybe that was just my company line. Now, I felt the shame of not sticking up for myself.

"I live there too Silver, Commander Hawthorne can just get over it," I assured her as I turned back to my locker and changed into the standard nursing and healing uniform.

She giggled and went to changing herself.


The first time I'd ever saw Silver was after one of my longest shifts in history. Hospitals were new to all the districts. Sure we all had healers and the healers in the richer parts of the district was trained by family from generation to generation. However, in the poorer part of town like were I was from there was only a woman who had learned by trail and error. Of course like the town healers there had been knowledge passed on to the makeshift healer but healers near the quarries had to think fast and adapt.

I'd been in the barrack almost a month. Nurses were hard to come by so the few that were here were working long shifts to make up for the lack. They were promising new nurses and healers, there wasn't many people with experience and training new healers was not going to be an easy task.

As I opened the door to my room I saw the tiny blond making the empty twin bed. Each room in the barrack was big enough for two people to live comfortable. However, we did share a bathroom with everyone on our floor.

"Oh hey!" She chirped when she finally noticed me standing in the doorway. "I'm Silver, you must be my roommate, Aster right?"

"Imogen is my first name," I explained and her face dropped for just a moment before picking back up again. With a shrug of her shoulders she went back to perfecting her bedding. Her blanket was a shiny bright blue with flecks of silver weaved into the fabric. The quilt alone gave away her home district of One.

"So what district are you from?" Silver asked as I moved across the room to my unmade bed.

"This one, originally down by a quarry," I replied trying to be polite as I slipped out my pants and quickly moved to under my cover.

"Didn't venture too far then," she stated it, it wasn't a question so I didn't reply. "I wanted to get away from One, dealing with fabric was never what I wanted to do. So when Commander Hawthorne made his speech about nurses and healers being important soldiers too, well I knew I had to go through training."

I scuffed, she'd went to through a month of training while I had a lifetime of training helping my mother with injured quarry workers and masons.

"I know, a month must not seem like enough to you and I know its not. The officials know it's not that's why I was roomed with you. They said I would be shadowing you for at least few more months or until you gave me the go ahead to tackle things on my own," she explained sitting down on the edge of her bed. I could feel her eyes on my feet from across the room.

"You're a chatty little thing aren't ya?" I replied meeting her eyes. She smiled a bit.

"Just trying to be friendly is all."


"Nurse Aster, Nurse Honeyman could you please report to your stations in trauma," the commanding nurse, Nurse Roxen, scolded us for taking to long. Silver and I always took our time when we were together. Silver had been the first person I let into my life after moving to the barrack. She always jokes that she was thrust upon me and I had no choice but to love her.

She had been the only friendly face around after word spread about my father. She'd also been the only friendly face when Gale stepped into the picture. Not everyone wanted to see his or her beloved war hero with a Two native. Two natives were seen as untrustworthy because we were the last district to resist the rebellion, Capitol lapdogs.

"I met a solider last night, he is originally from Ten. I can only say he was completely gorgeous and a complete gentleman. He didn't even try to take me out back of the bar," Silver explained and I shook my head. Silver and I are the same age but sometimes she seems to be more like my younger sister.

"Well that is some stick you're measuring gentleman by," I quipped pushing some hair behind my ear.

Silver and I giggled as we made our way to the trauma unit. Clipping my name tag onto my uniform pocket I felt Silver stop in her tracks beside me. Looking up I locked eyes with Gale's friend and fellow soldier, Porter Aldjoy.

I'd seen Porter many times, his green eyes always full of mirth and laughter, the complete opposite of Gale's. This time when I met his eyes there was no joy only concern. "Nurse Hawthorne."

"Soldier Aldjoy," I stated as strongly as I possibly could as I stepped closer to him. He was in uniform. This was official business; he wasn't stopping by to have lunch with me to cheer me up because he'd seen the state of my husband's hand. He was here to deliver information.

"Immy," he whispered putting his hand on my shoulder. I could feel the tears start to fill my eyes. His own green ones looked upset.

"Porter." I plead trying to urge him on with it by just the sound of his name, "just say it!"

"There was an incident."