Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Game Characters.
Warnings: Slash, PeetaXGale, Character-Death, Spoilers for the Movie/Book
Note: I hope you enjoy! This story takes place after Mockingjay.
"Message for you sir."
Gale looked up from the lab table to regard the solider standing next to him. Young, or young by an older persons standards. Eighteen? Just a bit younger than he, but noticeably attractive considering how it was hard to gauge age when the soldiers all wore similar outfits of black and blue. His eyes were green, and poking out from his cap were wisps of blond hair. He almost reminded Gale...he almost looked like...
The boy was looking around the large room with the wonderment that many possessed who were not used to such technology in their presence. It was a perfect lab for Gale. Inside the headquarters of the military base in District Two, Gale lived his life by his job as a weapons specialist for the new army. The room was large, with immense space to hold his creations upon tall dark walls. Lines of guns, bows, knives and other weapons were proudly displayed like trophies. Also, there was a shooting range at the far end of the room for him to test new creations. Although the room was dark with no windows, sound and bullet proof walls kept the loud explosions safe from outside ears.
His table was a mess of different parts and tools. Gun props, amongst other deadly weapons, were half made with their pieces strewn about in a mess that only Gale knew how to put back into order.
"Thank you soldier." Gale answered, reaching out and grabbing the folded piece of paper, "You're dismissed."
The solider nodded, then gave the elder male a required salute considering his advanced positional status. However, the solider hesitated and said quietly, "If there is...anything else you need, please let me know." The the man paused for a moment, and said quietly, "Sir."
Gale turned back to the man and noticed that he was staring at him, trying to convey a silent message.
"My station number is A-716. If you need to get in contact with me...for anything." The solider continued, smiling slightly and tilting his head to the side. His green eyes hinted at a hidden meaning.
It took a moment...then message received. Gale answered with a nod. "Thank you solider. Noted." He wondered briefly if he should take the soldier up on his subtle request for more...private assistance...but put the thought away for later consideration.
The man smiled and turned, leaving the room as silent as he had entered. Gale made another note to wonder why a such talent of soft lurking was being wasted on delivering messages, but that wasn't his department to decide.
He opened the note...then had to sit down.
Peeta Mellark from District Twelve requests your attention. Phoned from District Twelve this morning at 0800 hours. You were otherwise engaged in a meeting with Head of Weaponry Captian Beetee...
Gale stopped reading, because the rest was just useless military jargon that he already knew. Yes he was in a meeting with Beetee going over specs for a new project they were working on. And during that time the one person he had never wanted to hear from was trying to get in contact with him. But why? Why would Peeta, of all people, want to talk with Gale-
Katniss.
Gale sighed and ran his hands through his hair. Katniss. Of course. There would be no other reason. But why would Peeta contact him instead of the fiery girl who stole his heart, than turned it to ash in the palm of her hands?
Why?
There was only one way to find out, but Gale was in no mood to hurry. Just to try and get some sort of defiance against the boy who stole his love, he turned back to his lab and spent another half an hour working on the bullets he was trying to perfect.
When that half an hour was up, Gale stood and headed for the telephone on the other side of the room. He told himself it was just because he wanted to get it done before dinner. He had another meeting after all, and then he normally liked to hit the shooting range before crashing. That was all. He was just to busy after dinner to call, and should just get it done now. He wasn't really all that curious about what was going on. He couldn't care less...really.
Damn, but he was bad at lying to himself.
He picked up the receiver and began to dial the number for Katniss's home in the Victor's Village back in District Twelve...then hung up. No. Katniss most likely wouldn't be there. She was with Peeta now, and would be at his home in the village.
That thought nearly made him rip the phone out of the wall.
Sighing he opened up the note in his hand, smoothing out the wrinkles from when he crumbled it after opening it. There, under the jumble of words he ignored earlier, was the number for Peeta's home. He sighed once more before lifting the receiver.
Then stopped.
Actually...no. He didn't have to do this. He didn't owe them anything. He could just put the receiver down, throw the paper away, and move on with his life. He could do it too. And never look back.
Like he said. He was really bad at lying to himself.
He waited three rings and was about to hang up when an out of breath voice answered, "Hello?"
His stomach clenched, and it reminded him of when he heard Prim's name being called out at the Reaping.
Clearing his throat, Gale answered, "Uh...yeah. Hi. This is Gale. Uh...I guess you called-?"
But the voice, who Gale knew immediately was Peeta, answered back, "Gale. Yes. Thank you for calling back."
Oh. No problem. Just forget the fact that you destroyed everything that meant something to me...
"I really appreciate it. I-I wanted to talk to you...about Katniss." Peeta continued after Gale's silence.
"Peeta...that isn't really my concern anymore." Gale said awkwardly, "I don't know how I could be of help-"
"Gale." Peeta cut him off once more, and Gale almost hung up until Peeta spoke again, "It's bad."
That clenching of the stomach again, "What?"
"Katniss...it-it's bad. It's really bad. She-I-" Peeta paused to gather his words, "She's never come back...from the war. I-I don't know what else do to."
"Okay." Gale said, holding out a hand as if Peeta were there, "Just calm down for a second and explain this to me. What do you mean?"
He heard Peeta swallow, and for a moment he was worried the boy might start crying, but when Peeta spoke his voice was steady and strong, "She keeps having nightmares, about Prim. And she doesn't even leave the bed some mornings. I can get her up...sometimes...but she won't leave the house. She doesn't talk...for hours. I-I need someone to get through to her Gale. Someone who knows her."
Even though worry gnawed at Gale, he couldn't help the bitter, "I thought that was your department."
But Peeta just gently laughed away Gale's retort, "She needs someone who knows how to kick her in the ass to get her up. I can't do it. I've never been good at stuff like that." He gave a quiet sigh, "Never quite inherited that from my parents."
As Gale opened his mouth to ask what that meant, though he couldn't fathom why he would even care, Peeta continued, "Please. Come back to the Seam. Just for a week. Just to see what I'm talking about. Even if you can't help, it would make a difference. I promise."
Gale bit his lip, everything in him screamed for him to decline, "I-I don't know Peeta-"
"Gale." Peeta said, his voice bearing no hint of turning down his words, "If you even care about Katinss anymore, just...even a little bit, you'll come." At Gale's stunned silence, Peeta said, "Thank you again for calling."
Then he hung up.
Gale stared at the phone before he slammed the receiver down. He paced in the room for a good five minutes. No way was he going back to District Twelve now. Not after Peeta freaking Mellark basically commanded him to do so. Who the hell did he think he was? What...did he think that Gale had nothing better to do than to just drop everything for the girl who chose Peeta over him?
No. No way in Panem was he going to give Peeta the satisfaction.
Gale walked back over to the phone and picked it up. He dialed a number and waited for the person on the other line to answer.
"Hell-?"
"I'm requesting some time off. I need to go to District Twelve for a week." Gale said through gritted teeth.
The voice on the other end chuckled, and Gale wished he was in front of Beetee to throttle the man. "Good. You've been working to hard. It's good you're about to take a vacation. I was going to suggest one myself actually. I'll let administration know."
When Beetee hung up, Gale stood at the phone, staring into it with hard eyes.
God damn but he was so freaking bad at lying to himself.
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