Gale stepped off the train with a sigh, rubbing at his tired eyes at his surroundings. The trip from District Two was long, and when the surroundings of his former home began to come into view, Gale had to close his eyes and shut everything out for a while. It was hard, coming back, but damn if it wasn't going to be harder to see Katniss.

Since the Capitol fell and Katniss returned to her home, Gale made no effort to contact her, nor vise versa. And Gale believed it was for the best. He knew that no matter what the girl said or did, nothing could change what happened between them. Gale knew that Katniss left believing he had some part in Prims death, and he walked away knowing full well that she choose Peeta over him. But, it was in the past, and though they both had moved onto new lives, it would do them no good trying to make something out of the ashes of their broken memories.

At least...that was what Gale thought until the phone call from Peeta. Now everything was different. He didn't understand what Peeta meant by Katniss being in trouble. And he didn't understand even more how he could possibly hope to help fix it. Not that he wanted to. Not that he cared.

Okay...maybe he cared a little. He was here after all.

But either way he was only staying for a week. Maybe even less. He didn't think he could handle seeing Peeta and Katniss all over each other, in love and happy. But, at least he could visit his family, which was another reason he kept telling himself why he had come.

His mother and Posy were still living here in District Twelve. Because his new job paid so well, and he rarely spent the money on much more than food and clothing, he had set them up nice with a shop and were doing well running it themselves. There was no more Hob, but now a halfway decent open air market place. From what he had heard from his mother, people were content. Not quite happy yet...but there was hope. And that was good enough for everyone.

He shifted his duffel bag on his shoulder and began the long trek to the Victors Village. Gale could remember when he was younger, he could stand on his feet for hours. Between racing through the forest and working in the mines, he also worked hard to take care of his home and each of its inhabitants. Now, he worried that he might have gotten a bit soft working in the lab in District Two. Chairs and offices had made his legs grow used to comfort, and by the time he saw the lights belonging to Peeta's home, he was breathing hard from exertion and sweat that ran down his back. He had planned on walking back to his mothers that night, but the thought now made him weak.

He made a mental note that when he got back to District Two he would make good use of their gym.

Raising a tired had, he knocked on the door to Peeta freaking Mellark's mansion. Though Gale was content with his small apartment that gave him his basic needs, he couldn't help but be jealous of the large home that housed the girl he used to love...and her lover.

After waiting almost five minutes, Gale began to panic that maybe no one was home, and he'd have to walk even more. But then the door creaked open, revealing the last person Gale ever ever ever wanted to see.

Peeta freaking Mellark.

The baker's son looked almost no different than he had last saw him, almost a year ago in the chaos of the war with the Capitol. His blond hair still made his pale skin and green eyes almost glow. And his height was still just below Gale, a fact that he took a small, selfish pride in.

But there were differences, huge ones that Gale, who knew Peeta so well, would only notice. Such as, the boy had lost weight. He was thin, and no longer held that girth that came with long years throwing bags of flour, and fighting in the war alongside the rebels. And his green eyes were hallow, not so much that they resembled how he was after being held captive by Snow, but sadness lined each orb, and Gale couldn't help the curiosity as to where it originated from.

"Gale." Peeta breathed out, relief in his exhausted voice that echoed in the way his body slumped at the sight of the boy. "Thank God you're here." Peeta looked like he was about to topple over.

For some reason Gale couldn't put his finger on, he wanted to walk over to Peeta, pick him up and just put him to bed.

That thought made Gale do a double take.

"Yeah well...sorry I'm late." Gale muttered, uncomfortable with being here, and the most recent thought to cross his mind.

Peeta shook his head, his mess of blond hair waving back and forth. "No. No please don't be. I'm just so glad you're here." He stepped aside, holding out a hand, "Please. Come in."

Gale walked slowly into the room, and immediately shivered, "It's freezing in here." Gale looked around at his surroundings, frowning at what he saw. The hallway led into a large living room that was dimly lit with a dying fire from a large fireplace off to the side. Even though the furniture was as elaborate as the walls and ceiling, Gale could tell that it was barely used. Barely lived in.

Pulling out a long dirty rag that he had tucked into his back pocket, Peeta apologized as he wrung it nervously through his pale fingers, "I know. I'm sorry. The heaters broken and I have no clue how to fix it. I used all of the last firewood to make a fire for Katniss. She's asleep now." He was dressed in a ratty old gray sweater full of holes that matched his torn jeans. He looked like he hadn't slept in days.

Gale pulled his jacket closer to his body and looked over at Peeta, though hearing the name Katniss made his blood boil with old hurt. "Okay. Well...I'm here. What do you expect me to do?"

Peeta shook his head and walked over to Gale, offering to take his bag, "Nothing now. I can't wake her-"

Gale shook his head and stepped back, refusing to give Peeta his bag as he snorted, "I traveled across Panem to see her and she can't be bothered to get up and saw hello?" Gale scoffed, "Forget this. I'm out of here."

Peeta quickly jumped into his path, holding out both of his hands, "Please. No! It's not that. I-I just-It's so hard to get her to go to sleep. Please. You don't understand-"

But his words were drowned out by the shrill screaming that echoed from upstairs. Without waiting a moment Peeta dashed away from Gale and headed down a hallway, nearly sliding on the wooden floor before he ran up the stairs at full speed.

Gale stood surprised for a moment, not quite believing that the wail of pure suffering echoing in the dark house could have come from the strong, brave woman he once loved. Without waiting another instant, Gale dropped his bag and slowly followed Peeta's path.

He came to the stairway and could already hear the sobbing with Peeta's soothing voice trailing down the stairs. There, Gale hesitated. He could leave. He could grab his bag, walk away and not look back. Just like she did.

Instead, he walked slowly up the stairs, taking one at a time. He got to the top and noticed the long row of doors leading off of both sides. But it was from the right, two doors down, where a door was open and the sound of misery trailed out of the room.

Gale slowly walked, knowing his boots would alert Peeta and Katniss to his presence. For a moment he wondered if he even should interrupt them, but he had come to far.

He stood outside the door, then slowly opened it, looking inside.

Peeta hadn't been lying when he said he had used the last of the wood for Katniss's room. In the far left hand side of the room, a large fireplace was blasting out a strong wave of heat. For the first time since he left District 2, Gale felt warm. The room was simple and elegant, with dark wood made into a desk, chair, dresser and bed...the bed upon which Peeta and Katniss were on.

The two were in a tight embrace. Peeta whispered into Katniss's ear as she sobbed into the boy's shoulder muttering over and over, "Prim...oh God Prim why..." For a moment Gale was about to step away...but then he noticed something.

It wouldn't look strange to someone who didn't know Katniss, but he did. Gale knew Katniss, better than anyone ever did really. And what Gale knew was that Katniss's strength came from no one but herself. It was natural for her to push and fight...or in many cases hold on tight to what she needed and never let go.

But here...she wasn't holding onto Peeta. No. Instead her arms were limp at her side, and when Peeta shifted her, Gale could see her face for the first time.

It was like he had just been shot in the heart.

Her eyes were dead. Though trails of tears came rolling out of them, she didn't even acknowledge Gale, even though he was standing right in front of her. Her breath was steady, so Gale knew she was alive. But the way she hung off of Peeta, like some rag doll in his arms, she might as well be already dead.

As Peeta continued whispering soft words to her, he laid her back down on the bed. Katniss's face was still turned in his direction, but Gale felt nauseous by the way Katniss's face was a blank slate, with no emotion, no life. Nothing.

Peeta finished tucking her in and stood, walking away from the bed but keeping is eyes on her. When he got to the door he looked up and saw Gale there. His lips tightened, and he shook his head.

When he finally stepped out of the room, he quietly closed the door behind him.

"Peeta..." Gale said, but Peeta held a finger up to his own lips before whispering, "I know. We need to talk."


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