Disclaimer: I'm not Suzanne Collins. I don't want to be Suzanne Collins. I just want to own The Hunger Games and have her superior writing techniques. That is all.
Author's Note: This is the second Hunger Games story that I've written on FanFiction. It's also the second Gale/Katniss story I've written. The funny thing is that I've always been a definite Peeta/Katniss shipper. This is the scene where Gale visits Katniss in the Justice Building right before she heads off to the Capitol; except I threw in a few pieces that weren't in the books! The paragraphs that are in italics are Gale's flashbacks, just to clear that up for you in advance.
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I turn and smile at the two Peacekeepers staring at the back of my head, "Do you mind?"
A minute later, Madge opens the wooden door in front of me. She pushes it with both hands and blushes at the sight of me. "There's nobody else in there," she blurts out clumsily with her eyes glued to the floor. Madge had never personally known someone who was drawn into the Hunger Games. This is a first for her, and I understand that.
One of the hulking Peacekeepers takes Madge's tiny arm and marches her out of the Justice Building.
"You're next. You have eleven minutes." the remaining guard spits.
Without looking back, I pull open the heavy door. She's standing. Her hands on the dressing table are supporting her weight. Her back is facing me. The signature braid from this afternoon is still replaced by the bun woven by her mother. Nothing but a few strands of hair have fallen. By the looks of her, you would never guess that she had just sprinted to volunteer for the Hunger Games in place of her sister. As I look at her figure, I yearn for her touch, her voice, her smell. I yearn for her to live forever in my heart where no one can harm her. Not even the Capitol.
"Katniss," my voice breaks on the second syllable.
She reaches a hand up to a snare I had set in the forest.
"That's dangerous," I call out and emerge from behind a tree.
She jumps as I ask her name. "Catnip," she says, barely audible.
"Well, Catnip. Stealing's punishable by death, or hadn't you heard?" she doesn't catch my humor.
"Katniss," she calls out louder. "And I wasn't stealing. I just wanted to look at your snare. Mine never catch anything."
Judging by the squirrel in her hand, I am quick to think it a lie. She responds that she shot the squirrel. I marvel at the small bow she holds in her hands, wishing I could find a bow as such. She allows me to hold it. I smile when she reminds me that stealing is punishable by death. It took her for what seemed like years to return that smile. When she did, I knew that I had her trust in my hands and I would never let her down.
She turns around and stands strongly. A brick wall never letting the weakness show. "Gale," she says, but I can hear the strain in her voice.
I hold my arms open, craving the touch that I may never feel again. I don't curse myself for the negativity. Only for the facts. She walks forward without hesitation. Her body falls into mine like a puzzle, curving against my muscles. Her heart beats alongside my own. My head bends to breathe the aroma of her hair. It's an outdoorsy smell. Unlike the others, she smells of pine and not of coal. We are silent until I pull away.
We run deeper through the woods than we had ever run before. There is big game on this sunny afternoon. Another boy and girl are visible in the distance. They are tattered and sleepless but run as if their lives depend on it. Suddenly. A wind forcing the branches on the trees to fight for their lives. A wind like a hurricane. Except a thousand times stronger. No sound. Silent as a pin landing on tiled floors. The shadow falls on top of our shoulders, and we strain our necks upwards. A hovercraft, eerily similar to the one from the Games. I grab Katniss' frozen, shaking body and cover her mouth, diving under a shelf of rock. A net falls from the hovercraft and carries the girl up at lightning speed. The boy is pierced by a spear and hauled up to the craft. I watch the girl scream and writhe in the net, crying the boy's name. And that is it. The hovercraft is gone. Katniss' eyes are squeezed shut and her body rocks back and forth ever so slightly.
"Katniss?"
The young girl picks up her head and looks at me with confusion and hurt.
"What's going to happen to them?"
"I don't know," I lie.
My hands cup her face, "Listen," I force myself to get the words out. I hate myself for the help I cannot offer her. "Getting a knife should be pretty easy, but you've got to get your hands on a bow. That's your best shot."
"They don't always have bows," she says.
I let my hands drop and shake my head at her stubbornness, "Then make one," I ball my hands into fists, "Even a weak bow is better than no bow at all."
"I don't know if there'll be wood."
"There's almost always some wood. Since that year when half of them died of cold. Wasn't much entertainment in that."
"Yes, there's usually some."
There is a scowl on her face before we slip under the fence together. Once out in the mass of trees, her features soften and her muscles relax. I watch from behind as she runs between the trees. She had always been a faster runner than I. She pierces a squirrel in the eye with her arrow and picks it up as she passes. The perfect shot. I am admittedly jealous of her hunting ability and agility. I never attempt to distract her because we always split the game between our families. Today is different though. There are lighter spirits. It is the day after the reaping. Everyone we know and love is safe. Sprinting my hardest, I catch up and tackle her to the ground, tickling her sides.
"Stop! Gale! You're scaring off the game!" she laughs.
She does not scold me, but I stop the tickling. I am on top of her, but I support my own weight as not to crush her. Her chest rises from running and laughing, but now, her eyes are calm and still. My heart beats rapidly with the thoughts of what I want to do. I don't think for much longer. I bend closer to her body. Our bodies conform to each other, and I kiss her. So much passion, angst, and fear mixed together into one. Our tongues play games with each other while I tuck the loose strands of hair behind her hair and back into her braid. I pull off my shirt in the summer heat and feel her do the same. Her muscles, so delicately carved, contract against my own rugged physique. I hold her close. I don't think she knows this is real for me. This isn't a game.
"Katniss. It's just hunting. You're the best hunter I know," I rush to say. The clock is ticking closer to the time that I will be separated from her.
"It's not just hunting. They're armed. They think."
"So do you. And you've had more practice. Real practice. You know how to kill," I hate the words that escape from my mouth. Katniss is a strong, independent, loyal person. She is not a killer. She is a hunter.
"How could you do that, Gale?" she asks quietly when I meet her in the woods.
"Do what?" I respond.
"You know," her voice rises.
"I don't know, Katniss. What do you want me to tell you if I don't know what you're talking about?"
She holds up the bow in her hand, or more like the parts of the bow. It has been shattered, torn to pieces, and ripped apart. "My father's favorite bow."
I cannot respond.
"How could you have done this? Why did you do this to me?" she shouts. "Answer me, Gale! Why?" she shoves my chest. I'm surprised at her strength as I stagger backwards.
"Katniss," I start. She shoves me again and I fall against the tree behind me. I am weak.
"Katniss, I didn't-"
She doesn't listen to me and raises her eyebrows, "If you didn't, tell me who did," she snarls. "You and I are the only ones in this forest. You know that." She doesn't cry, but the anger flows from her mouth like knives.
"I don't know who did it. Alright?"
"Don't give me that bullshit, Gale!" She stuffs the broken pieces in her bag and storms in the opposite direction of the fence. I know I haven't ever touched her bows unless she's allowed me to. Who broke the bow, I don't know. I honestly don't. I hate her for assuming I would do such a thing. I hate myself for thinking that I would ever hate her.
"Where are you going?" I call after her.
"Away from you," she says without turning back.
"Not people."
"How different can it be, really?" If she pretends the people are animals, there is no difference at all. I hate what the Capitol has done. They press us down from rebellion and act like everything is perfect. It's not. Not perfect. They formed me into this… thing. This thing that doesn't feel. This thing that can't fully love. This thing that knows only to reverse what they've done. They are the reason why I will lose Katniss.
"I'm not a killer, Gale. I don't know exactly what I am yet, but I am not a killer," her breath staggers, and I notice her body give a slight shake.
"Katniss," I whisper with my hands grasping her arms. "Promise me, okay? Promise me you're going to try your hardest? You know this is different. Hey," I follow her gaze to the clock, "Look at me. This is different from the woods. You're right, but you're going to make it out. Don't give up on me. Don't give up on Prim."
We walk in between the trees in silence. There isn't much to say. We aren't looking for game.
"I want you to see something," she says quietly.
Later, when I had inquire about what it was, she answers with, "my father's." Three hours later, we arrive at a lake. So serene it could have been a photograph. So marvelous that it could have been beyond the Capitol's greatness. She explains its significance. I am speechless. She jumps into the lake, dressed fully in her clothes and careless of the consequences. I strip my shirt and wade in the shallow waters. She pulls my hands and leads me deeper. "Don't worry," she smiled at the nerves of lacking the ability to swim that I express through my eyes. She can always read my eyes. Strokes, hand movements, leg paddling, she taught it all. This is the day I kiss her for the second time. Like the first, we ignore that it ever happened and leave for District 12.
"I'm going to win, Gale. I'll win this," her voice breaks and I watch the tears fill her eyes.
I've never seen her cry. I wrap my arms around her. Kiss her forehead, kiss her cheeks. I hesitate and press my lips to hers gently. When I pull away, her eyes are dry once again. But her cheeks are still shiny with the marks of her tears. "I don't want to ignore this anymore, Katniss. You're not just my hunting partner. You're not just my best friend. I need you to come home. I have to tell you that I-"
"Your time is up, Katniss Everdeen. Your friend will need to be escorted out," a Peacekeeper interrupts.
"Could you give us more time?" I plead.
"No," the Peacekeeper snatches my arms behind my back and drags me away. I kick and struggle and my hand still grasps Katniss' tightly.
"Don't let them starve!" is the last thing she says to me.
"I won't! You know I won't! Katniss, remember I-"
The Peacekeeper breaks my grip with Katniss and shoves me out the door before I can finish the sentence.
I slump against the wall, "Remember. I love you, Katniss."