When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The giving up is the hardest part
"You're going to have to leave, you know," a voice said from behind me. I turn around to see Haymitch standing there, clutching a half empty bottle of alcohol in his hands, his eyes bloodshot and hazy.
"Leave what?" I respond back, motioning for him to come sit down next to me. He stumbles slightly while making his way over, and sits down, staring at the rising view of the Capitol's buildings- most of them demolished and in ruins, others heavily damaged.
"Here. There," he waved his hands around in the air, some of the liquid sloshing out of the bottle. I grimaced, pulling the bottle out of his hands gently.
"You have to give up," he repeats, his words slurring slightly.
"Give up what? We already won this damn war, didn't we? So there's nothing to give up on," I tell him, a bitter note creeping into my tone unwillingly. Yes, I was glad that we had won. Something that had needed to be won. Which was good, right? Winning because it was the right thing to do, and not for a sense of pride. Winning those hundreds of lives that had been lost in these games that the Capitol had played with us for nearly a century- and not just the Hunger Games; it was the manipulation games, the control games, the simple fact of how they had so quickly and cleverly outmaneuvered us for so many years.
And yet, there was something that I felt as if I was going to lose, despite all the good that had occurred through my actions. And so, somewhere inside of me, I knew what Haymitch was going to tell me before he even did.
"Her," he says to me, his voice low- so low, that I thought I had heard him wrong, before he repeated himself.
"I know she may have been the last thing on your mind the past couple weeks, with everything going on-" wrong, I think to myself. There was not a moment every day in which I did not think of her safety. And not because I had feelings for Katniss- but because she had been my best friend, and really the only person I could rely on despite the situation at hand.
Haymitch continued speaking. "She is broken, Gale. And though she will never admit such a thing, or show herself that way to the public, she is. This war… this war, has taken so much out of her. And I think that moment when she shot at Coin was the breaking point. And you- I may be a hopeless drunk, but I'm not completely clueless- she loves you." Haymitch pauses, taking another swig of his wine, and I felt the breath catch in my throat.
"But we both know one thing. You may love her as well, but she needs to stop clinging onto her past, and move on. You cannot help. Not anymore- Peeta though- he is who will help her heal, and she needs that now. She needs an ember of hope," he says quietly, and I we both sit in silence for a while.
It had not ever occurred to me that Haymitch- a drunk one, nevertheless- could ever say something that made so much sense in a drunken state.
And I know that Haymitch is right. I had always assumed- or I suppose, had known somewhere, a niggling spot in the back of my head- as Katniss and I grew up, protecting and caring for our families, that maybe one day we would have had our own family. Moved into our own small house in District 12 and had the small marriage ceremony that was tradition in our district. That nonexistent possibility seems almost desirable to me now, though without Katniss there would be no freedom in Panem. And so then, I feel selfish.
Selfish for wanting all these things, when it meant the misfortune of others. Selfish for wanting it for myself. For not thinking of others.
Would I really have wanted Prim's name to not have been drawn, and to not have had Katniss volunteer, if it meant that we could have continued along the steady trail we were on?
And I know the answer before I can even process the question. For me to be happy with someone, over the loss of hundreds of lives over the course of many years, was not worth it. Oh yes- maybe to me, it would have been several years ago, but knowing what I know now, and to see what I have seen, I know I would not hesitate if given the decision to make once again.
I would not change any of the choices I had made, if it meant the safety and freedom of the citizens of Panem, or leaving them unarmed against the forces of the Capitol. Because the freedom meant the safety of my family. It meant the safety of everyone's family.
There had been a single point, in which I understood something. Perhaps the idea of Panem- the districts being split up, and one place ruling over us- had been good at first. Almost sensible. Because as humans, we are greedy, and we are selfish. We are unforgiving and unkind when it comes to our own survival. It has been so for hundreds and thousands of years. We will fight for land and power, for control and wealth, because it is the materialistic things that fill us with a sense of joy almost immediately, versus waiting and finding what it is that will make us truly happy. And despite all the tragedies that overcome us and always strike when least expected, we do not learn. And Panem along with its Districts had seemed logical at that time being.
But I am beginning to understand. It should be for the greater good, for everyone, and not just for self-fulfillment and pride.
And I know now- though I may love Katniss, and perhaps never another female as much as I love her, I have to let her go. I have to leave, because she would never wish to hurt me in such a way. But by doing so, I will be hurting her, and ultimately, myself.
Maybe it was meant to be so- Peeta had that gentle sense to him, the kind warmth that I could not provide her, and the thing Katniss would need most now, and for the foreseeable years, was someone to take care of her, for a change. And I know I will not be able to give her that.
"I think I understand," I say quietly, after the long pause.
Haymitch nods his head in acknowledgment, and gives me a wry smile.
"Peeta can give her what she needs, not what she wants. Though it may seem a bit silly to think of it like that," he began, letting out a short bark of laughter, before tilting the bottle up to his lips again, taking a long swallow.
"You'll be all right- I know that. I've already set up a position for you in District 2- her trial is in three days, and if she sees you…" he trailed off, but I knew what he meant. She would break again. And that could not happen. The war had ended, but there was a lot of damage control to do, and it could not be seen that the symbol of the rebellion had been broken beyond repair.
I nodded in brief agreement, standing up from the small bench.
"I'll leave in a few hours- there's an aircraft departing for Districts 1 and 2 soon-" I said, turning around abruptly, clenching my fists, pain pricking the back of my eyes. I walk out of the room, and at the doorframe, I glance back, to see Haymitch slumped over on the ground, out cold. I shake my head and let out a short, bitter laugh. He would be all right.
The next few hours passed in a blur of throwing my few items haphazardly into a small bag, packing quickly and efficiently. Slinging it over my shoulders, I know this is the last time I will be near her. My eyes flick across the blackened horizon, and the burnt grass, fastening upon a small red flower- the only colour that could be seen in the vast horizon. I pluck it from the ground, the petals barely in bloom- looking pale and delicate- and jogged back inside the building and down to the lower floors.
And that is when Is see her, behind the metal bars. Curled in a ball on a thin mattress, her eyes shut- her mouth gaping open in the slightest way. For a moment, she looks untroubled, free of all the burdens she had carried since her father had died.
I pluck the key off the hook on the side, and noiselessly unlock the bars, slipping inside to place the flower next to her body.
Her dark hair is tangled, and up close, you can see the dried tear stains on her face, the blood on her clothes. Before thinking, I lean down and plant my lips against her forehead for a few seconds, savouring these precious few moments, because they will be all that I have.
"Goodbye," I whisper, backing out of the cell, shutting the bars behind me, not thinking of what I was going to be leaving behind.
I walk to the aircraft landing pad, and board the aircraft, where the pilot gives me a thin smile. Sitting down, I lean back, and close my eyes.
My hands bury themselves inside my pockets, and I feel the hard stone that has been there for the past two years. A small diamond- nothing too large, yet something I thought would have suited Katniss in the most subtle yet perhaps the most suitable as well, way possible. I had always thought that something would have worked its self out.
But the chances I had, I had missed them. Chances I had not seen, and neither had she. Our time was gone.
I clench the ring tighter in my hand, and as the aircraft begins to ascend, I open the window by a crack, dropping the ring- watching it fall, becoming a smaller and smaller glint of light- fading quickly in the dark, as we rose higher into the darkened sky, and I close my eyes, waiting for sleep to come, and dreaming of what could never be.
This was an odd fan fic for me to write, as in most of my Hunger Games fan fics, because I make sure to have Katniss and Gale end up together, but I wanted to justify why Gale had left, I guess, since to be honest, I found Collins' ending to be a bit ridiculous.
Anyways. Reviews are pretty much the best thing on the planet. So please do review :)
Amy
*Lyrics and title from Dreaming With A Broken Heart by John Mayer.