It has taken about a decade, but Gale Hawthorne has finally stopped thinking about Katniss Everdeen on a daily basis.
District Two is so very different from District Twelve. Perhaps that is why Gale enjoys living here. There are mountains instead of forests, and he finds himself spending more time shooting targets then shooting game.
He's a designer. Weapons. Buildings. Aircrafts. But not bombs, though. Not anymore.
He sketches out his ideas, presents them to the board, and then spends hours in the lab helping to turn his them into reality.
Gale was never meant for the mines.
Eventually the rumors of a factory being built on the outskirts of District Twelve turn out to be true. District Twelve is fairly isolated, low in population but high in available land. Why not construct?
It doesn't make any sense to Gale. It never will. But perhaps he is bias.
He is personally asked to oversee the construction of the factory. He instantly refuses.
That night he dreams. Except maybe they aren't dreams, they're more like memories.
Watching Catnip shoot a squirrel right through the eye. Kissing Catnip. Hearing Catnip scream his name after she assassinated Coin.
He wakes up covered in sweat and feeling guilty all over.
There's someone else in his bed tonight, but Gale doesn't spare too much of a thought for her.
The next morning he tells the board that he's changed his mind.
There is no more Seam. There is no more merchant section. District 12 has been rebuilt, but it doesn't look much like how Gale remembers it. It leaves him disoriented for a moment.
Once he steps off the hovercraft he walks straight to the meadow that someone's pointed out to him. Under all the pretty flowers is a mass grave.
He kneels down and rests his palm against the soft grass. Eventually his gray eyes go misty and his palm forms a fist.
Gale Hawthorne remembers and he pays his respects.
He and the other board members are gathered around a table and looking over blueprints.
But his mind isn't on his work. Not really. Instead it's on the basket of fresh bread with a note that was delivered to the house that he's staying at this morning. He put it on the kitchen counter and didn't touch the bread or read the note.
He knows he should feel bad for purposefully wasting food. He doesn't.
Weeks pass. He doesn't go to her. She doesn't come to him.
He thinks that maybe this is what's best.
There's a knock on his door. Gale isn't really awake yet, but he still stumbles out of his bed and answers it.
The baker's boy is standing there holding a basket of cakes. But he isn't a boy anymore.
Gale is half tempted to shut the door in his face. But he doesn't. He can't really hate Peeta Mellark. They were never really enemies, not in the truest sense of the word. They fought on the same side of the war. And besides, Gale thinks that anyone who can love Catnip as much as this man can must be inherently good.
Peeta greets him politely and holds up the basket.
"I'm not going to eat those," Gale says quietly. No, they're not enemies, but Katniss chose to love this man back, not him.
"She iced them," Peeta answers, not lowering the basket.
And for the first time Gale looks at the cakes themselves and not the person holding them. He nearly laughs because they look terrible and he briefly wonders what possessed Catnip into doing this.
He takes the basket from Peeta, mumbles his thanks and shut the door.
He still can't eat them so he walks them down to the school and gives them to the kids. They happily stuff their faces with them.
They only see cakes, not Catnip-iced cakes.
A week later Mellark delivers bread again.
"I won't eat it," Gale says sharply, barely opening the door. "You don't have to keep bringing food to me."
Peeta looks unfazed. Gale sets his jaw and says nothing.
The baker pushes a loaf into his hand. "You were still her best friend."
The guilt practically consumes him and finally he cuts a few slices of the bread and slowly eats them.
It's delicious and a part of him feels sick.
Peeta Mellark continues to deliver bread, cakes, or pies on a weekly basis and every single time Gale Hawthorne tries to refuse. But the baker is persistent.
Gale still brings the majority of the food down to the school.
The sun is setting and Gale is a little drunk this evening. He's normally not much of a drinker, but the factory construction is a little behind and he's feeling kind of stressed.
He's sitting in a chair by a fire when there's a knock. He knows who it is and yet he gets up to answer it anyway.
He and Peeta have a system now, but tonight goes a little differently. Gale opens the door wide and then turns and walks into his kitchen.
Peeta follows, just like Gale knew he would.
"You ever had coffee?" he asks, gesturing for Peeta to sit down at the shabby breakfast table.
"Twice," the baker answers.
Gale nods. "I'd never tasted it until I moved to District 2. Occasionally I'd manage to get my hands on some back when I lived in the Seam—when there was a Seam—but it was worth too much for me to ever keep any for myself." He sets up the kettle, coffee grounds, and filter. "I think I gave some to Catnip for her to sell, once or twice."
"You still call her that?"
Gale freezes, rewinding what he'd just said before sighing. "Guess so."
There's silence until they wait for the water to boil and finally Gale sits down across from Peeta and hands his cup over to him. "I don't have any milk or sugar. Sorry."
"That's okay." Peeta stares down into his cup but doesn't touch it.
Then they start talking about the weather. They start talking about the fucking weather.
Gale never asks him what he'd like to ask. Any kids? She still hunting? Is Katniss happy?
He bets he already knows the answers anyway, but he'd rather hear the answers from her.
Finally Peeta stands up and makes his way to the door. He never did touch his coffee. "Same time next week?"
Gale frowns, alert now because he's had three cups. "When did this become routine?"
The baker smiles and walks out the door.
The next time Peeta comes Gale is waiting for him with a bag of coffee beans.
"I know you don't like it," Gale states. "But maybe she will."
Peeta accepts the bag without saying anything.
"You're lucky," he says one day after numbly accepting a blueberry pie.
"I know."
"You're the one she couldn't survive without."
Peeta is ranting about Haymitch in the only way Peeta can rant about anyone—politely.
Gale wonders when their relationship has come to this, this sort of pseudo-friendship.
They never talk about Katniss.
Gale has starting making tea now and he watches Peeta pour honey into his cup.
"—ridiculous, almost burned down one of the primrose bushes."
Gale's fingers have curled along the edge of the table. He is silent and doesn't look up, not even when Peeta says goodbye and leaves.
There is still pain and it aches somewhere in the vicinity of his chest.
He's leaving in a few days.
He's not sure why he's visiting the woods now. Maybe it's because he knows as soon as he steps foot in the forest that she will be the only thing that he'll think about.
He hears leaves snapping under footsteps that are not his own.
Gale whirls, instinct taking over. But he has no weapons and he has to remind himself that the war is over and someone from the Capitol is not going to jump out and arrest him for trespassing.
Old habits die hard.
Instead he sees her step out from behind a tree.
She is still Katniss, except maybe she's grown a few inches. Her hair is longer, tied back in a braid, and she has filled out. There is an old sadness in her gray eyes and Gale wonders if she can see the same sadness reflected in his gaze.
He briefly wonders if she has been waiting for him.
They stand there for a moment and watch each other.
Gale has always been able to understand Katniss, and this ability has not faded away despite the years. He sits down on the ground and waits for Katniss to sit down next to him.
She's not angry or wary and why should she be? But Gale doesn't kid himself. She will never look at him the same way.
That is the line that she has drawn and the line that she will never be able to cross.
"I figured seeing me would be hard," Gale says softly. "So I stayed away."
"I stayed away, too." It's the first time he's heard her voice in a decade and he sucks in a breath and holds it in order to calm himself. Katniss opens her mouth to say something else, but then she closes it and frowns.
But Gales knows.
"Rotten cowards, the both of us," he says. He's tempted to nudge her shoulder like old times, but he doesn't. "We should have just said 'hi' during the first week and gotten it over with." He's only half joking.
She manages a small smile.
The sit quietly next to each other for a few minutes until Katniss quickly stands up. Gale follows and moments later a worn bow and arrow is handed to him.
Then they set off.
He is eighteen and trying to find the right time to tell this girl that he loves her.
He concentrates on hunting for a little while, but eventually he finds that he'd rather concentrate on Katniss.
She aims her bow and shoots and her shot is just as perfect as it was back then. She is still the same formidable huntress as she always was.
She fetches the bird she shot down then turns her head to him. Their eyes lock.
He is twenty nine and trying to find the right time to say goodbye.
He decides to start with an apology. Not for Prim, though. No apologies will make up for that.
"I'm sorry I didn't shoot you after you killed Coin."
The statement hangs heavily in the air between them. She stares at him, surprised.
"My finger was on the trigger. I remembered our agreement. But I just couldn't, Catnip."
She bites her lip and looks at her bow that's lowered to her side. "Well, I guess I'm glad you didn't." Katniss turns and walks back to where they had been sitting earlier.
When he slumps down next to her she hands him a roll.
She glances at him out of the corner of her eye before taking in a deep breath. "Are you…?" she trails off and then restarts. "Are you married?"
"I've got someone. No kids," he answers before she can ask. "I don't think you have any either."
Katniss shakes her head.
Gale bites into his roll and then sighs. "These are good." It's the closest he'll ever get to giving her husband a direct compliment. He chews his mouthful and watches as Katniss tears at her roll but doesn't eat any.
She nods in agreement.
Minutes pass and they eventually pick up a conversation as they watch the horizon. Gale didn't even realize that he had missed this so much. Not just Katniss, but how he felt when he was with Katniss.
The sun is setting and he is standing up and holding out his hand for her. She grasps it and he pulls her up. She lets go and then wipes her palms against her pants.
"You're better, Catnip. That's good." He starts to make his way out of the forest before pausing and turning his head. "I'm happy for you."
Katniss surprises him by darting forward and pulling him into a hug. It's very unlike her, but then, maybe she's trying to figure out the best way to say goodbye too.
She is Catnip and she will always be his best friend and hunting partner, even if he no longer has a need for either.
He'll never stop loving her.
He pulls away before she does. He doesn't plant a kiss on her forehead.
"Bye, Gale," she says. Her voice cracks a bit and she quickly clears it. She's fidgeting and he knows that she wants to say more but can't find the words.
"I'll be fine," he says, reassuring her of whatever it is that's bothering her. He'll be okay. Katniss is better. Katniss is almost happy, so he'll be okay. "So long, Catnip."
He's waving and she's waving back and Gale thinks that maybe he can eventually be happy too.
He leaves the baker with more coffee. He doesn't leave a 'thank you' note. He's pretty sure the baker isn't expecting one anyway.
He watches District 12 disappear out the window of the hovercraft.
A/N:
First time writing Gale/Katniss. I've loved this ship for a long, long time and I hope that I was able to do them justice and give them the closure that they deserve.
Please leave a review and let me know your thoughts!