This is a short song fic about my favorite Hunger Games couple, Gale and Katniss!
It's a Brantley Gilbert song, because he's my favorite, and it's pretty much just about Gale coping with not having Katniss. Don't know if it's any good, so review it and tell me.
Lyrics are in bold/italic and the note is in italic. It's complicated.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games or Brantley Gilbert's song. Wish I did, though!
THE BEST OF ME by SOONERMAGIC
It's late and I'm drunk on white liquor, which is actually starting to become my normal action every night. It isn't entirely my fault, though. I've been gone from Distract 12 for ten years now, but being away for so long still doesn't help sooth the pain from how much I miss everyone. Especially you, Katniss.
I found a box of memories
read a letter
dropped a tear where you signed your name
I was on my usual rampage that night, plowing through the house either in tears or hysterics, when I found the note that you sent me, Katniss. You remember, the one you sent me asking me to forgive you eight years ago and I didn't reply. I couldn't send you a letter back anything, Katniss. I understand that now, because you were only interested in me as a friend when I wanted so much more. He had you, and I didn't. Not anymore.
Dear Gale,
It's been a while, hasn't it? Ten years. Wow. Time really flies when you're living your life to the fullest. Of course, you knew that already, didn't you? In fact, I think you're the person who taught me that valuable lesson. My life has been pretty good lately. I don't have my nightmares as often as I used to, and Haymitch has moved in with us until we get his house rebuilt.
I'm doing fine, in case you were wondering. Peeta and several others are rebuilding the bakery, and the Hob is up and running again. Everyone misses the game we used to bring in, Gale. They miss you too, you know. They all want you to come back.
I didn't write you just to gloat about my happiness, I want to know how you're doing. How are you doing, Gale? Do you like your job? How do you like Distract 2? Are you adjusting well? Have you met anyone? You haven't gotten into any fights yet, have you? Do they have woods to hunt and trap in? Go ahead and answer those questions, but not necessarily in that order.
Well, that's a mouthful. But I mean it all, Gale. I didn't write you just to brag about my life. I still care about you. And I am hoping against hope that you still care for me too. Is it too much to ask, or have I finally missed my chance?
The real reason I'm writing this letter, though, is to let you know that I forgive you. Since you've been gone, I've had some time to think and I even talked to Beetee about it. My Mother was a huge help, and so was Peeta. You remember him, right? Well, I've come to terms about Prim's death, Gale, and I think you have the right to know what I think.
I don't blame you for her death anymore; in fact, I'm not even sure if I ever did. I think I just needed someone to blame for having her ripped from my grasp forever, and you happened to be the most convenient person. But I realize now that it wasn't your fault. You weren't the person who issued an attack with those bombs, Gale. Coin was, and she got what she deserved.
You helped build the bombs. I know that, but it doesn't mean anything. You didn't drop those bombs on Prim, Gale. And I know how badly you're tore up over thinking that it was your fault because I still know you. You're still my best friend.
I have a question for you, though. And please answer it, because you know how much courage and willpower it took for me write this letter to you. Will you ever forgive me, Gale?
Love always,
Katniss Mellark
And turning the page
smearing the ink in the "Love always"
It almost killed me reading that letter for the first time, coming to the end and seeing that you married the baker boy. Which is for the best, I guess. It's like you said, Katniss. If we were to be together, I'd only be adding to the flame raging in your soul, and together we would have made an uncontrollable fire that couldn't be put out. But Peeta helps calm that fire down, doesn't he? He saturates the rising flames that always threaten to consume you. I'd only encourage the fire till we both erupt.
Girl, I always start this way
Then I end up in a bottle screaming out your name
Punching the walls
Carrying on like I've gone insane
Letting my anger and jealousy get he best of me, I throw the letter down back in the box from which it came, jumping to my feet and grabbing the bottle from the coffee table. Tears are spilling down my cheeks, and I'm not even trying to slow the flow. What's the point, anyway? I had my chance with you, Katniss, but I missed it. I wish I could turn back time, but I can't. Would you have ended up with me in the end if I'd have volunteered in Peeta's place?
The thought sends my mind reeling, and in anger I throw the glass bottle at the wall, watching as it shatters to thousands of pieces, not feeling any emotion except raw anger as the shards fall to the ground. I look upon the spilled liquor and fragments of the bottle, disapproval lighting my gray eyes. My eyes are still so much like yours, Katniss. Gray, but silver in the light.
But then my frustration hits the boiling point, and I fling myself at the wall, drenched in white liquor, and start punching the wall with the strength of a man desperately in love with a woman whom he'll never have. That woman is still you, Katniss. And I don't let up on the swings till I see blood gushing from my knuckles and the bruising that accompanies the breaking of bone.
And that's when I sink to the floor, my bloody, battered, and broken hands flying through my shaggy black hair, no doubt coating the dark locks with the crimson substance of blood. Tears are still freely rolling down my face, soaking my white shirt, and I make no move to swipe at them as I give way to the racking sobs that have been threatening to escape ever since I stumbled upon that letter.
Physical pain, Katniss, is much better than mental. But, then, you all ready know that, don't you?
And in the mirror I can see the man
Who just shook his head with no remorse
Watching an angel crying tears
Stepping over my beers
As you walked out the door
You remember that night, don't you, Katniss? You came to visit one night five years ago, claiming that you and Peeta were having problems and you just needed to get away. And I took you in like the good friend that I am. We never brought up the letter, the one I never responded too, and I am thankful that I didn't have to explain myself to you.
We got to talking, and covered ever topic possible as we shared several rounds of white liquor. You even cried a little, and I held you as the tears fell from your gorgeous gray eyes, wanting nothing more than to keep you in my arms for the rest of your life. But I couldn't, because you belonged to Peeta. It seems like he always comes between us, doesn't it, Katniss?
You stayed like that for several minutes in my arms, mumbling and crying about nothing at all and yet everything at the same time, till your tears were finally spent and your eyes were dry. And then you pulled back from me, though you still had your arms wrapped tightly around my neck, as if you were about to kiss me. And you did just that, lifting up and slanting your mouth across mine.
Do you remember that, Katniss? Have you ever told Peeta that I was the reason his marriage to you worked out as well as it did? I don't suppose you did, but I can't blame you. I wouldn't tell my spouse that I'd visited my best friend and started kissing him. No, Peeta wouldn't have liked that, would he?
But that's not all we did, is it, Katniss? Looking back now, I realize that it was just your tangled emotions and the liquor, but I still like to pretend that you chose me over him. You kissed me for several moments, trying to coax any reaction you possibly could out of me, but I was still sober enough to know that this wasn't right. You are married, for crying out loud. I may be in love with you, but I still have my pride, and I'd never do that to Peeta, no matter how bad I wanted you. You wanted me too, though, didn't you?
After realizing I wouldn't kiss you back, you ran the tip of your moist tongue over my closed lips, and that was my undoing. I couldn't handle it anymore. I wanted you too much, and so I picked you up right there and marched down the hall to my bedroom. And we made love all that night like we were born for each other. Peeta doesn't know about that either, does he, Katniss?
You fell asleep in my arms, sweaty and spent from your exertions, and I just held you, silent tears leaking from my eyes. This wouldn't last, because you and me, we're two flames that burn too bright. I could never have you, and you knew that. So why did you let me kiss you like that, Katniss? Why did you let me love you in the most intimate way possible?
But instead of asking, I just watched you sleep, your nose twitching gently, and when you woke up, we made love again. But that was the last time, because you remembered Peeta and you said you had to get back. I blew up at you, Katniss, and I'm so very sorry for it. I have no idea why I did it, it was inexcusable. Maybe it was that you were going back to him or because I loved you too much to let you go.
I pushed you away roughly and went in the bathroom, watching you from the mirror as you got dressed, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks. You didn't want to leave; I know you didn't. But you had to, because of Peeta. I looked in the mirror and saw a bedraggled man who shook his head without an ounce of remorse as his little angel was crying, her gray eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep and tears. I was wiping tears from my eyes as you stepped over the empty liquor bottles and walked out the door.
But you never knew I was crying, because you never looked back, Katniss. Not once.
There ain't nothing like a memory
When it's coming on strong like a hurricane
How can love like that just up and walk away
You're killing me baby
Got me pouring up another drink
Bourbons hitting me hard like a freight train
With my back against the wall or on my knees
When the worst of your memory gets
The best of me
The tears are beginning to renew their endless supply as I push up off the floor and stagger into the kitchen, heading toward the wooden cabinet where I keep the white liquor. I've been having to stock it lately.
Katniss, I don't know what that night meant to you, and I'm not really sure if I give a damn. But you must know what it meant to me. You weren't my first, Katniss, and you knew that; you accepted it because I wasn't your first either. But you were the one that meant the most to me. You were the first person in which I referred to it as 'making love' instead of just 'sex.' With you, it was so innocently sweet and amazing and heart-tugging. Was that what it was like with you, Katniss?
Choking back sobs of that awful night, I rip the seal off the bottle and put it the rim to my lips, tilting it back and pouring the burning liquid in my mouth. It hurts as it goes down my throat, but at this point, I welcome the pain. In fact, I relish in it. Usually I'm so numb that I feel no pain, but the liquor is helping remind me that I am still capable of feeling emotions, even if I was broken and battered beyond repair.
Oh, I remember it all too well
Riding 441 down to Millage Ville
Crossing the bridge as the sun set on Lake Sinclair
I couldn't wait to see your smile
But all I saw were tears in your pretty eyes
And that said it all
It was downhill from there
And I remember you saying
"Baby, please don't give up on me."
Oh but baby this stubborn man
Is gonna lie in the bed he made
You came back to visit me three months after that night, and your stomach looked a little more pudgy and rounded than it had before. I paid no mind to it, though, because I was just so happy that you were here, back in my arms if only for one night.
And so I took you into the woods, not even bothering with the bow and arrows I had stashed in a hallow tree trunk, and went straight to the stream. It was different than the one back in Distract 12, wider and shallower, but it's come to be the only spot in the whole of Distract 2 where I actually felt sane. Crazy, huh? And I told you as much. You just smiled at me, with a faraway look in those eyes I love so much.
I found us a rock to relax on, and you abruptly laid your head in my lap, positioning your head so you could look up into my eyes. Right then and there, Katniss, staring into your unbelievable eyes and mesmerizing the features of your face, I fell for you all over again. And I think you fell for me, too, because you gave me a secretive smile that said you didn't forget about that night, and you blushed too.
We talked for a while, me telling you about my job mostly, and you even caught me up on Haymitch and his wild antics. This felt right, didn't it, Katniss? You in my arms, laughing carelessly, not being afraid of anything. I wonder if you missed me as much as I missed you, but before I could ask, you leaned up again and initiated a kiss.
And so we kissed, just like that. You laying in my lap, and me leaning over you so we could get closer. This wasn't a fearsome or desperate kiss like the others; this one was slow, sweet, and gentle, and we took the time to acquaint ourselves with each other's mouths. It wasn't our last kiss, Katniss, and I am bound and determined to make sure it wasn't.
But then you pulled back with a scared look on your precious face, a hand laying protectively over your stomach as if you were in pain, and that's when I knew it. You were pregnant, Katniss, and the child was mine.
Your statement confirmed what I hypothesized. You looked up at me, with tears glistening in your eyes and a weakly sweet smile on you face. "Gale, the baby's yours. Not Peeta's."
Because there ain't nothing like a memory
When it comes on strong like a hurricane
How can a love like that just up and walk away
It's killing me baby
Got me pouring up another drink
Bourbons hitting me hard like a freight train
With my back against the wall or on my knees
When the worst of your memory
Gets the best
The best of me
It shocked me, to say in the least. I looked at you like I didn't believe you, and my expression sent you into tears and you jumped up and started running as fast as you possibly could. The only though flowing through my mind as I watched was, She's going to hurt my baby.
And so I hopped up and took off after you, not wanting to risk you possibly harming our child. Hmm, our child. I rolled that around on my tongue for a moment, thinking that it sounded and felt proper, and smiled hugely right as my arms wrapped around your waist and I stopped you from further continuance. You looked up at me, tears flowing unchecked down your flushed cheeks, and started banging at my chest to get loose. But I wouldn't let you, because you weren't getting away from me this time.
To stop your protests, I smashed my mouth against yours, and you immediately started to kiss me back, your hands finding a way to cup my cheeks through the strong grip I had on you. I knew it then, Katniss. You loved me too, you were just too afraid to say it. But I was too.
After several minutes of nothing but kissing, you pulled back and gave me one of your genuine grins, the ones that sent my heart fluttering. I gave you a butterfly-soft kiss on your nose, wrapped my arms around your shoulders, and I walked you back to my house so we could make love once before you had to go back.
Six months later, I received a picture in the mail from you. I knew you were expecting, but you had told me that I couldn't come watch my baby being born because Peeta would notice something was up. I didn't like that excuse and told you so, but you got mad right back at me and quit visiting me. I hadn't had any news from you in the six months after our day by the stream.
Smiling widely with tears shining in my eyes, I stared down at our daughter and mesmerized her face. Her hair was black like ours but straight like mine, and she had my nose, and her skin tone was olive as well. But her eyes were a bright sky blue, and I had the sudden, painful thought that this child was Peeta's. But then I looked closer, and I saw Prim in those eyes, Katniss. Our daughter has Prim's eyes.
On the back of the photograph was a name, written in big, bold, black letters, Raina Primrose Gail Hawthorne. I fell in love with my baby girl at that moment, and sent a silent thank you to the Man upstairs, appreciating the fact that He'd given our child Prim's eyes.
But a piece of paper fell out on the envelope just as I was about to head back inside, and I curiously bent down to retrieve it. I read that letter right there, Katniss, and bawled my eyes out.
Dear Gale,
We must discontinue our relationship. This hurts me, too, so please don't think I'm doing this just to get rid of you. You know that isn't true. You're special to me; I care very deeply about you. I can't come see you any more because Peeta might get an idea since Raina's eyes are a different color blue than his. He noticed that, Gale, but just pinned it on Prim like me and you both did, and it's true. Raina Primrose Gail Hawthorne, our child, has my sister's eyes. But Raina's bone structure isn't like Peeta's or mine; she is built like you, Gale. Her real father. And she will know you. Baby, please don't give up on me. I love you.
Love always,
Katniss Mellark
Baby there ain't nothing like a memory
When its coming on strong like a hurricane
How can love like that just up and walk away
You're killing me baby
Got me pouring up another drink
Bourbon's hitting me hard like a freight train
With my back against the wall or on my knees
When the worst of your memory gets
The best of me
Peeta doesn't know it, but you snuck away one night to see me two years after Raina was born. And you brought my baby girl with you. You said Peeta thinks you're visiting Annie and Johanna in Distract 4 for a week, but you came here instead. Because it was killing you to stay away any longer, and you knew that Raina needed to know her real father.
I finally got to meet my baby, and I fell in love with her all over again. She does look like me, like us. Peeta is a fool to think that my baby is his. I told you that much, Katniss, and you laughed that sweet laugh you have.
So many questions were bubbling around in my head. How are you and Raina? Is Peeta a good father to my baby? When was my baby born? Does anyone else know the truth? How did you come up with my baby's name? What did Peeta think of the names 'Gail,' even if it was spelled different from mine? You answered all my questions, Katniss, without so much as a complaint, while I played with our daughter.
And when we finally got Raina to sleep, laying her on the couch, we snuck off to my room and made love to the wee hours of morning like we did on that long ago night. And then, after checking on Raina several times during the night, we made love again. I couldn't get enough of you, and you couldn't get enough of me. We had to make up for lost time.
That was how we spent our week together. I got to know Raina, and we even explained to her that I was her father because you said she never talks around Peeta. We went out everyday and I showed you around Distract 2, telling you where the best places to eat were and where to go for a good show. And then we went home and I cooked us supper because you still can't cook. Every night, we'd get Raina to sleep and head back to my room to make restless love for hours on end.
Peeta doesn't know this either, Katniss, but that little boy, Finnick Hawthorne Mellark, he's mine too. He's ours. Finnick was created that week you spent with me, Katniss. That was the best week of my entire life. My little blonde-haired, blue-eyed baby boy. And I think it's time we tell Peeta, because he doesn't deserve to be in the dark about this for any longer.
A plan forming in my fuzzy mind, I bring the bottle down from my lips and set it on the table, finally realizing that I didn't need this stuff. It was just something to help me get through not having you. What I need is you, Katniss. And I hope you need me as well. Because, this time, I'm not taking no for an answer.
Staggering from my drunken state, I walk back into the living room and head straight for the old metal desk I have pushed against the wall. There is a loose sheet of paper lying out, and I dig around in the desks' drawer for a pen. And when I finally find one, I begin.
Dear Katniss,
It's been a while, hasn't it?
When the worst of your memory gets
The best of me
Oh my gosh, my first Hunger Games fanfiction? Done! And I liked it, but you might not have, so just hit that button down there and tell me how I did.
Tell me how to make my stories better, please, because I am seriously contemplating on writing on whole story on the Hunger Games, and I'd like to know what you guys think about that idea. Would you read it? Feedback people!
~SoonerMagic
lmL