Playing by Their Rules
"'I guess there isn't a rule book for what might be unacceptable to do to another human being.'
'Sure there is. Beetee and I have been following the same rule book President Snow used when he hijacked Peeta.'"
Mockingjay, Suzanne Collins
Present
Gale sits in his old room silently. Seated on the floor, he pretends the thick carpet is tall grass half-hiding him from the world. He stares absently at the near wall, manipulated to show the depths of a murky, damp green forest, complete with the occasional squirrel or bird passing through. It was familiar, it was safe. It reminded him of when he'd been happiest, gone now. It reminded him of why he had fought and why he would continue to fight if need be.
It's so close to being over. One last ceremony, and tomorrow he would be leaving the Capitol for his new home. It's taken two long years to reach these final hours. Two long years, and a heavy price. Though he could take no joy in the moment, Gale never once doubted that their victory had been worth it. Except, perhaps, for the price he had been forced to pay. Why had his cost been so much higher, he wonders as he sits in this room for the last time.
The Reaping
Hazelle had to stand on her toes and Gale had to lean down to receive her hug. She held him tightly but carefully, not wanting to muss his nicely ironed best shirt. She kissed his cheek and pulled away. Turning, she pulled Rory into an equally tight hug. Galen's jaw tightened as he looked at his younger brother, looking smaller and thinner than usual in his reaping shirt.
It was one of their father's, carefully mended and saved. In District 12, nothing was thrown away that could be reused or recycled in some way. This last year, Gale finally filled out his own hand-me-down. After this last year, his shirt would be put away again, saved for when little Vic would turn twelve and would enter the reaping in his turn.
His mother was still holding Rory, her hands cupping his face, telling him to be brave. At thirteen, Rory would have two slips of paper in the reaping ball. Gale and Hazelle had refused to let him take any tesserae, though he'd offered. Gale hadn't realized how much his brother had grown. He made a mental note that, should they get through this day, it was time to teach Rory to hunt. Gale would start work in the mines soon, losing valuable hunting time. The family needed the extra food from the woods, and Katniss always hunted better with a partner to watch her back.
Katniss. Her little sister joined the reaping this year. He looked again at his small family. Vic and Posy were now crowding around his legs. Rory. Prim. Vic. Posy. Despite the daily struggle to keep them alive, to keep them fed and healthy and whole, he was still completely helpless now to keep them safe from the Games. He could only hope that his forty-two slips in the balls tipped the odds in Rory's favor rather than his own. Thinking about it made him want to throw something.
The bell sounded. Gale wrapped an arm around his brother and held him tight for a moment. Hazelle gathered up Vic and Posy, her eyes red but dry. He nodded to her once, then turned to begin the walk to the square, one arm still around Rory's shoulders. What had Rory ever done to deserve this suspenseful torture? He did well in school and helped their mother with her laundry service. Rory had never fought back, never said a word against the Capitol. He didn't even defy them by hunting as Gale did. Yet he could still be sentenced to death by two small scraps of paper. Gale solemnly watched his brother take his place, closed his eyes, and fervently wished for one more year of grace for himself and his loved ones.
Ladies first. He held his breath as silence fell over the square. Hanny Woodlawn. Gale breathed a sigh of relief. Not Katniss. Not Prim. They were safe, thanks to the poor, trembling Seam girl walking up to the platform.
Gale's chest tightened as Effie Trinket said, "And now for the boys." He closed his eyes again and wished. Not Rory. Not him. His last year, forty-two slips between him and safety, between Rory and safety. Not Rory. Not him.
The silence was deafening.
Gale Hawthorne.
His eyes opened slowly? A mistake? He knew better than to question. The other boys parted around him. He saw Rory staring at him in horror, taking a half step forward. Gale shook his head ever so slightly, both to clear it and to signal Rory not to do anything foolish. He straightened her shoulders and walked up to the stage. His siblings were safe. The people he loved were safe. He could handle everything else.
Three minutes to say everything he should have had a lifetime to say. Galen's brothers and sister were crying, Vic and Posy sharing his lap as they had so often done at home by the fire. His wonderful mother was still holding back her tears, being strong for the little ones, being strong for him while she still could. He told them he loved them again and again. He knew Rory and Katniss would keep them all safe and sound now, as sound as they could be, losing their father figure again. He hugged his mother and looked her in the eye. "For Father."
She shook her head. "Just try to come home to us. They need you, not vengeance." She knew him well. He nodded.
Katniss came and walked straight into his arms. After a moment she pulled away. "They won't starve. They won't take tesserae."
"I know."
"You can do this thing, Gale," she said quickly, holding back fear and loss. "You know snares better than anyone, you can shoot."
"Yes, and I know how to kill," Gale said, nodding.
Katniss bit her lip then said, "Gale, you can't go off like you do in the woods. You have to at least try to hide what you think about them, or else..."
"Don't worry, Catnip," he said, forcing a light tone, "I'll be back." He paused, then said, "Katniss, I..." but the door swung open and a Peacekeeper pulled her away before he could finish.
A/N: Hear ye, hear ye, let it be known throughout the lands that I own nothing related to The Hunger Games. Sadly, only Hanny and this strange alternate universe is mine. Read and enjoy, and reviews are greatly appreciated.