Disclaimer – I'm just playing in the world of Hunger Games, owned by Suzanne Collins.
A/N – I wanted to know more of what Gale was thinking following the scene in pages 93-100 in Catching Fire. I tried to write Gale as in-character as possible. Reviews/constructive criticism encouraged! Special thanks to my mom and my best friend for beta reading.
The air whipping at my face is chillingly sharp, hinting of new snow. I breathe it in, welcoming the pain of it in my lungs. Facing the wind always makes me feel stronger.
Especially when the wind is bringing change.
Rebellion. Revolution. In District Eight, and hopefully elsewhere as well. That knowledge sends so much fire through my body that I hardly feel cold, even though my bow creaks from the chill as I carefully stow it and my arrows inside a hollow tree. The turkey I shot earlier is hanging from my belt.
Soon, I promise myself, I'll be using my weapons on more than just turkeys, squirrels and deer.
But I will probably be fighting alone.
The irony of the whole situation is that Katniss is the one who won the Games. She's the better shot with a bow, and she's learned how to kill. I know, because I watched her end the life of that District One boy who murdered her ally, Rue. I watched her send her final arrow into Cato's skull.
I watched until the end, when she pulled out those berries. That's when I realized that Katniss would become a symbol for rebellion against the Capitol.
Only I knew having a symbol and actually having an organized revolution are two different things.
As a symbol, Katniss is a target of President Snow's retribution. I know how our enemy thinks. I understand how he's been trying to suppress her impact by having Katniss and Mellark presented as lovers, but even their engagement won't be enough. Snow will make Katniss suffer. There's no getting around that fact. And without a revolution, her suffering would be useless. My family's suffering would be useless. That's why I would have run away with her and our families, when she suggested it earlier.
Before she mentioned the uprising in District Eight.
We can't just think about ourselves anymore. I told her that. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for us to fight to change our world. And in my opinion, fighting to end suffering in all the districts is worth suffering in the process.
But Katniss is not a fighter.
The fence that encircles District Twelve looms ahead of me, and I realize I've been walking back. I stop and listen for any hum of electricity, cursing myself for getting lost in thought. Coming home through the woods without my bow is not the wisest time to be contemplating this mess.
The electricity isn't on, but I stand there for a minute without moving toward the fence.
I shouldn't have been so harsh on Katniss. I've always known she's a survivor instead of a fighter. When we'd be out together in the woods, before all this happened, I was the one who would rant against the Capitol. Katniss was the one who listened.
Not that Katniss didn't confide in me back then. The poverty in our district would make her angry too, especially on days when desperate Seam parents brought their starving kids to her mother. But even then, her anger was different than mine.
Katniss takes things so personally, as if protecting the helpless and avenging the dead is a mission resting entirely on her shoulders. I don't understand that. Not everyone in this fight is going to survive, and if war comes, we won't have time to reflect on every casualty. That's why the only mission I have is to see the Capitol fall.
But we know how to disagree. Just because she thinks differently than I do doesn't mean I love her any less.
I hope she knows that.
What if she doesn't? A gust of wind makes a hollow noise through the pine trees, and I fumble with my jacket, suddenly cold. She'll run off with Mellark.
No. I meant what I said, about everything. Katniss may not be aware of very much, but she knows I don't play games. If she does choose to leave with Peeta Mellark, she'll do it knowingly.
The thought somehow makes me calmer. It's up to Katniss now.
I finally slide under the loose spot in the fence and trek across the Meadow, then cut through a few backyards as I make for the Head Peacekeeper's house. I don't usually let my mind drift, but now that I've sorted out my thoughts about Katniss, all I can think about is how to plan an uprising.
It's not until I'm knocking on Head Peacekeeper Cray's back door that I realize my mistake. There's something wrong. I should have noticed sooner.
Usually, a Peacekeeper or two standing around outside the house will call out with a bid for the drumsticks if they see me approach with a bird. But today, there's no sign of anyone. And the back porch has been swept clear of Cray's broken liquor bottles.
I'm about to turn and run when the door slides soundlessly open.