A/N.
For Lana. Love you lots!
I'm in school when it happens. We're writting a test, so there are almost no sounds to be heard except for the occasional cough and the scribbles of pencils on paper. A quiz on the coal mines, ironically, so my thoughts are already heading into dark directions when the sound breaks out around me.
Loud, treacherous wails come through the open windows and fill the air, breaking the silence and making everyone jump out of their seats in alarm. I don't jump out of my seat. I'm paralyzed with fear, unable to move even an inch towards the door where all of the others are headed. My chest constricts in panic, and I'm filled with a sickening sense of déja vu.
"Everyone out! Now!" our teacher hollers. But I can't persuade my body to move away from my desk, or my brain to conjure thoughts other than, 'the mines, the mines, the mines.'
The sirens continue to screetch, and suddenly there's someone there, yelling and dragging me out of the classroom and towards the end of the hallway. My eyes adjust into a blurry view of a boy - a boy with wavy blond hair and strong, built shoulders. He spins around again to tell me to hurry, and I catch a glimpse of his face. Piercing blue eyes. High cheekbones. Features that automatically indicate that he's a merchant child.
It's Peeta. Peeta Mellark, the boy who saved me so long ago, and I still haven't forgotten. 'The boy who gave me hope in the midst of everything, and who is the very reason I'm here today.
And now here I am again, being saved by this selfless person I've been too afraid to talk to.
My thoughts are cut short by the cold air that blasts into my face, whipping loose hairs out of my braid and into my face. I gasp the air into my lungs, desperately trying to let myself pretend this isn't happening, that the mine sirens aren't going off again.
But the heavy dread filling the pit of my stomach tells me otherwise.
"Katniss!" I vaguely hear Peeta saying my name, waving a face infront of my eyes. There's concern written all over his face in bold letters, but I pay no attention to him. I can only stand there, violent trembles raking my body, as my vision swims and my heart beats a thousand miles an hour.
"Gale," I gasp, his face appearing in my head. I see him for a moment, grinning at me like he always does, with that same sparkle in his eyes. Then the vision changes, and he's calling out to me, mouthing my name with evident terror in his features as the air around him explodes in fire and chaos, death and destruction. "No, no, no, no, no."
I tear away from Peeta and race through the flood of people, shoving and pushing everyone out of my way as angry retorts and exclamations fly in my direction. I can hear more people calling out for me - teachers and staff mostly - telling me to wait, to stay where I am. How they can expect me to do that, I have no idea.
I break free of the crowd and continue to run wildly, my heart beating its way into my throat. The sirens continue their wailing around me, loud and barbarously, as if wanting me to know that one of the people I love most in the entire world is probably dying this very second, caught underground in the same torturous death as my father.
A sharp, coppery taste fills my mouth as I exceed my running capability. I've never felt more afraid, more panicked, than I do right now, but somehow, I can't cry. Maybe I'm in shock, but I'm almost certain that the real reason is that I'm being strong for him. If I let myself fall apart now, I won't be able to help him.
It may be too late to help him, a voice whispers in the back of my head. But I shove it away, refusing to accept that he could be gone - that Gale, my best friend, my hunting partner, could be gone. There's just no way.
"Katniss!"
My head instinctively jerks to the side, towards the small girl frantically running towards where I am. She finally reaches me in a blurr of blond hair and tears, a mess of trembles and whimpers. "Katniss, what do we do?" she asks, her voice incredibly small. I can scarcely hear her over the wailing of the sirens; they've become much louder now that I'm right at the heart of the mines.
I don't answer her; my eyes are too focused on the mob of people up ahead, near the mine entrance. I can just make out the ropes that have been placed infront of the people and the lines of Peacekeepers trying to keep them away. I watch with indescribable pain as a familiar woman throws herself at the Peacekeepers, crying and yelling in anguish and frustration.
"Prim, wait here," I choke.
I race towards Hazelle, pushing more people to the side. My heart constricts even more, almost to the point of my body collapsing in on itself, as I come into hearing range of all the weeping and screaming citizens. Some are praying, some are fighting, and some seem to have lost all emotion entirely. Those are the worst to me, the people that have lost every bit of hope in their bodies and are just sitting like empty shells on the dirt.
The images infront of me have been burned into my brain once before, and now it feels as if everything that happened six years ago is happening all over again - the pain, the dizziness, the noise...
"Hazelle!" I yell, my voice cracking into a million pieces. "Hazelle!"
She spins around, searching for me. I run up to her and take her hands in mine fiercely, wanting to send her some of my strength to get through this, although mine is fading quickly. Her eyes are bright red, filled with a pain as old as life itself. "Katniss," she cries, cupping my face in her hands.
I close my eyes and beg her not to say it, not to tell me what I think she is going to tell me. My voice drops to a whisper and my bottom lip trembles. "Where is he?"
A heartbroken sound makes its way up her throat. "He's still down there."
He's still down there.
The four words that completely destroyed any sort of control I'd had over myself. The four words that cut away every thread of confidence that I'd had in Gale's safety, in the hope that I could have him back here with me, hugging me and telling me that things would be alright. The four words that are crashing into my heart and making me realize suddenly just exactly what I could be losing.
I take one step backwards, then two. This is as far as I can get before my legs crumble underneith me and I'm sent crashing to the ground, my head in my hands. The first of the tears start making their way down my cheeks in currents, and once they've started, they don't stop. Not for one minute. Not for two, or five, or even ten.
I haven't cried since my father died, but now, it feels as if all of the tears I've held in for so many years -six years- are coming back to me in one big rush. I despairingly crave a set of strong, tanned arms to pick me up and hold me, to tell me that he's with me, always. But I'll probably never feel that - not for the first time, nor the last.
He's still down there.
I vaguely feel the pressure of Hazelle's head as she rests it against my bent back, crying as well. Her presence comforts me, right up until the point where I become aware of who's mother she is. Right up until the point that I can't stop picturing him every second that she's touching me.
His smiling face, laughing as he almost knocks me over swinging himself up onto a tree branch. His calloused hands, and the way they can create such delicate snares despite their size. His eyes, and the way they'd light up as soon as we'd get past the fence surrounding District Twelve. The eyes that would only look like that when we're free of worries, in the woods.
Or when he's looking at me.
I look up through wet eyes on time to see more miners being hauled up through an elevator. Their clothes are torn and their skin bloody, but the life in their eyes is unmistakable as they run towards their families.
Couples kiss. Children are squeezed tightly. And those of us who don't see our loved ones watch on in misery.
It's funny how when there's one person your eyes are missing, the entire world feels depopulated. This is how I feel now, sitting numbly on the cold ground as the sky becomes darker and darker and there is still no sign of him. Prim is holding both of my hands in hers, watching me with anxious eyes as I become increasingly unresponsive.
Hazelle has dissapeared entirely from sight, probably off to mend to her children as they wait for their oldest brother to come home to them - as they wait for an arrival that probably won't happen.
"Katniss, we should go home," Prim says.
I shake my head.
"But it's getting dark. We'll hear tomorrow if... if he's okay," she tells me. "And we will hear it, Katniss. He's the strongest person we know, apart from you. He'll be alright."
Apart from me? I think. There's no way he's ever needed to compete with me for bravery. Gale was - is - the strongest person I've ever known. Period.
"Come on, sweetheart." Another voice joins my sister's, and I become aware that my mother is here as well. I hadn't noticed her. "You'll freeze out here."
"I don't care," I whisper, finally finding my voice.
"You will once you get frostbite," my mother says sternly.
My eyes flicker up to her with as much coldness as I can muster. How dare she act so insensitively towards me, when she knows what's going on? When she's gone through almost the exact same thing? It's not as if she'd been able to hold herself together, either. No, she'd left Prim and I to care for ourselves at seven and eleven years old.
"What do you care, mother? It's not like you'd know what I'm going through, right?" I snap sarcastically, and instantly regret it.
My mother pales. "Katniss-"
"Just go," I say quietly.
Without another word, she stands and walks away with one last glance in my direction. Her eyes are unmistakably sad, but both my sympathy and my guilty has vanished into thin air. I'm too numb by this point to feel anything apart from the gaping hole in my chest.
"Go with her, Prim. You'll get a cold," I tell her.
By the look on her face, my words must have come out more harshly than I'd intended. I reach out a hand to her, but I'm too late. She's gone, too.
Peacekeepers come around with blankets, handing them to the remaining people waiting with pity in their eyes. As if they know how it feels to lose someone you love, as if they know how it feels to have them ripped away from you.
I wrap one around myself, trying to warm my frozen skin but unable to. I lean back against a wooden stand and stare up at the moon. It's a full moon tonight, and it shines down on me with a cool comfort. I begin to reminisce...
"Hey Catnip! Come see this," Gale calls.
I open the door a crack and look outside. "What are you doing out here?"
Gale turns around and smiles. "It's a full moon tonight."
I go to sit beside him on the porch, looking out at the night sky. The moon -big and white and beautiful- is surrounded by more stars than I can remember seeing in a long time. Thousands of them, glimmering and shining like tiny lightbulbs in the sky.
Gale takes my hand and sighs. It surprises me at first, but I adjust quickly, having become so comfortable around him that it feels almost... natural.
"It's beautiful," I breathe.
"It is," he agrees.
I smile and turn to him, expecting to see him gazing up at sky. But instead, he's gazing at me.
Eyes streaming, I blink and realize that there's a man standing infront of me. He must be a Peacekeeper, considering his dark blue uniform and the close-cropped hair on his head. He stares down at me emotionlessly, his dark eyes beckening for me to stand up.
"Come with me," he says flatly.
I wipe my eyes hastily and stand up, my legs shaking and wobbling. People watch us quietly as we go by, some crying and some trying very hard not to. I squeeze my eyes shut as we walk past a young girl, around six, calling out for her father as her mother gives futile attempts at calming her. The memories wash over me quickly, because the girl is so much like Prim had been when it'd happened to our father that it hurts.
The Peacekeeper stops suddenly and I almost walk into his back.
"I believe they are who you were looking for," he tells me, pointing towards a small group of people. Then he walks off, leaving me standing in the dark, unsure of where to look.
My heart pounding, I look up from my shoes to see the Hawthornes crowding around someone - or something - and hugging. Little Posy dances around the circle of her family, giggling, completely oblivious to what's happening.
"Hazelle?" I croak.
Hazelle spins around in surprise, a relieved smile still plastered on her tear-stained face. But I barely notice this, because as soon as she's stepped to the side, I see him.
Gale.
His clothes are covered in coal and torn in some places, his hair is a complete mess, and there's a bloody wound in his calf. But he's here, infront of me, and he sees me.
His glistening gray eyes fill with anguish, and Gale breathes, "Katniss."
With a noise that sounds somewhere between a sob and a scream, I fall to my knees again, my head in my hands. He's there in a second, scooping me up in his arms and plastering chaste kisses all over my face and hair, despite his entire family being right behind us. I'm too exausted and relieved to even blush at the feel of his blazing lips on my skin.
"I'm so sorry," he whispers, his voice tight with emotion and repentence. "I'm so sorry."
I try to answer him, to tell him that it wasn't his fault, but the only thing that comes from my mouth are more, louder cries. I clutch his shirt desperately, never wanting to let him go again, never wanting to say goodbye to him again.
Gale's hands make their way to my cheeks, brushing away the hot tears that refuse to stop falling down my face. I bite my lip futilely and open my eyes to look up at him. His eyebrows are scrunched and his eyes are filled with worry and sadness. "I've never seen you cry," he says softly. "I hate it."
I turn my face to the side, wanting to hide my tears. "Sorry," I whisper tearfully. "I thought- I thought you-"
I squeeze my eyes shut and cocoon my face in the crook of his neck, unable to finish the sentence. Just the thought of what it would be like if he hadn't lived, if I weren't in his arms right now, brings so much pain to my chest that I subconsciously wrap my arms around my torso, trying to squeeze my pain away.
"I'm okay, Catnip. I'm okay," he tells me comfortingly.
The nickname is the last straw. Before I'm even aware of what I'm doing, my lips are on his and I'm kissing him. Gale's stunned for a moment, but he recovers quickly and is kissing me back almost immediately. His lips are chapped and blazing with heat, but they send off the sweetest of pleasures through me, from the top of my head to ends of my toes.
I become aware of Gale in an entirely new way. He's more to me now than just a hunting partner; a best friend. He's the spark to all of my passion, and all of the fire in me that keeps me fighting whenever I feel weakest. He's my confidant, my savior, my shoulder to lean on. And nothing will ever tear us apart again.
I pull away, breathing heavily, my cheeks burning. "Gale, I-"
I don't finish. He kisses me again, but in lieu of the reckless, I-just-about-lost-you-forever kiss, this one is full of tenderness and astonishment. When he breaks the kiss, his eyes are wide and his smile radiant, as if he can't believe what's happening.
"Never leave again," I tell him, swallowing hard to stop the stupid tears. "Not ever."
Gale sighs and pulls me back into his embrace. He kisses my cheek. "You know I have no choice."
I bite my lip. "What if you do? What if we just hunted for the rest of our lives? We'd get by well enough, especially when I'm out of school..."
"You know I want nothing more than that, Katniss," he says ruefully. "But they'd know. They keep track of us down there. And now that so many of us were just lost, they'll be keeping an even closer eye."
"You shouldn't have to stay trapped down there!" I exclaim, more tears falling against my will. "We shouldn't have to wait for something to go wrong!"
"Isn't that how everything is now? Unfair? The Games are unfair. The mines are unfair. And then when our children are born, they experience the very same things," he says angrily. "It's how we're forced to live."
I close my eyes and wish more than ever that the Capitol wasn't so cruel, that we weren't bound to a long life of pain and sorrow and dread. But it's too much to ask for - we both know that things aren't going to change, not any time soon. We can only embrace the small things, like our time in the woods, and hope that there's more to what we are.
"Gale?" I ask.
He leans his forehead against mine and closes his eyes in defeat. "Yeah?"
"Not everything has to be bad," I say quietly.
I know I must be going against everything I've ever told myself about love, and men, and life, but I can't help it. Because all of those times I'd tried convincing myself never to succumb to love, my father had told me otherwise. He'd told me that you can't help it when it hits you.
And he was right.
A/N.
For now this story is complete, but I may decide to continue it later.
Review, please!
