Chapter Two

To Be Free

When she was a little girl, not long before her father's death, Katniss had found the dark comforting. Lying awake in the small bed she had shared with Prim, she had stared at the shadows cast on the walls around her without even a semblance of fear. The shapes thrown onto the white plaster by overhanging tree branches and random pieces of furniture were entrancing rather than terrifying, and Katniss had whiled away many sleepless hours just simply watching, finding solace in the quiet. After the accident in the mines, with their mother so hopelessly vacant and incapable of being the nurturing figure that Primrose needed, Katniss had attempted to show her little sister just how much solace could be found in the darkness. Katniss had woken a then seven year old Prim in the early hours of the bleakest Winter morning, but her sister had soon grown too afraid and Katniss had been forced to light a lamp to dispel the gloom. Primrose, with her small hand held fast in Katniss' larger one, had listened to the sweet lullaby spilling from her sister's lips, eventually falling back into slumber curled into the older girl's side.

Standing in the threshold of the doorway of their compartment, her eyes struggling to adjust to the inherent darkness within, Prim was once again reminded of that very moment. She swallowed hard as she gazed at her sister, who was lying on her back on her bunk, her hands folded across her stomach and her eyes boring into the ceiling, wide and unseeing. Prim wanted nothing more than to go to her, to provide the comfort that she knew her sister so sorely needed, but she was not certain that coddling was in the Mockingjay's best interests given all that lay ahead of them in the coming months. Katniss would need to be strong; to allow herself to be fashioned into the leader that the rebellion so desperately yearned for, but Primrose was certain that none of that would be possible without Gale's steady and unwavering presence at her side. Prim swallowed again, harder this time as she struggled to choke down the wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her, and suddenly Katniss' gaze traveled to meet hers.

The two sisters simply stared at each other, a heavy silence hanging over them that each was too scared to shatter for fear of what the truth may reveal.

Finally, she could take no more and Katniss sat up, her gaze still fixed fearfully on Primrose, who was rooted to the spot and wringing her hands in front of the blood spattered apron that covered her pinafore.

Katniss' breath was uneven and ragged and each time she thought she had found the strength to speak, her courage failed her again. She stared unblinkingly at her little sister, tears flowing silently down her cheeks.

Primrose's expression was grave and, as she moved to gently settle herself at Katniss' side, she placed her arm around her sibling in a comforting gesture.

Knowing that Katniss would never volunteer the question that had been torturing her for the last few hours, Prim allowed her quiet voice to break through the darkness uninvited.

"Gale's out of surgery," she murmured, "they were able to repair the tear in the femoral artery, but... but he lost a lot of blood."

Katniss nodded, her mind racing to process the information.

"Will he live?" she whispered hoarsely, swallowing hard as Primrose made no attempt to reply.

"Prim… will he be okay?"

Turning her face toward the light, Primrose regarded her reluctantly. The second Katniss saw her sister's own tears, a sense of terror overcame her that made her stomach lunge and her heart begin to race. If Primrose was worried, she knew there was real reason to fear for Gale's life.

Primrose smiled gently, her blue eyes emphasized by the tears that shone within them.

"He has to be," she eventually replied. "It's Gale."

Prim only needed to blink to see a thousand childhood memories play out in her mind's eye; images of Gale – the paternal presence that had made her younger years that little bit more bearable. He had been a steady and constant figure, always there to look out for her, sometimes as a brother and other times as a friend. But more often than not as a man too young to know fatherhood himself, who had dedicated his life to raising his own siblings and caring for her as if she too were a part of his family.

Gale Hawthorne was a good man; motivated by loyalty, duty and love. Primrose couldn't be sure of the exact moment she had realised he was in love with her sister, but it hadn't taken long to ascertain that Katniss more than reciprocated those feelings. The Capital could never have truly conquered a love that had been formed when they were little more than children. The two shared a history, family, and an unyielding trust that Prim prayed had not ultimately sent the young soldier to his death.

Katniss released the breath she had been holding and leaned forward, her hands covering her face as she wept, partly in relief and partly in horror. Her chest heaved with sobs, and the moment she felt Prim's fingers tenderly comb through her hair she allowed her sadness to overwhelm her.

"It's okay, he'll be okay," Katniss soothed, clasping Prim's hand in her own and trying to muster her most confident smile even through her tears, "Gale's strong- he's really strong and… he'd never leave us, you know that."

Primrose bobbed her head, her mind torn between believing her sister's reassuring words and the medical knowledge she had acquired. In the end, the latter won out, and Prim stood up from the edge of the cot, brushing at her cheeks with trembling fingers.

"You should go to him, Katniss. You have to tell him. He needs to know now. Gale needs to know the truth."

Katniss frowned, inhaling deeply as she tried to calm the sense of panic that she had permitted to envelope her. But Primrose would not allow her to deny her feelings again- not now; not when it might already be too late.

Prim shook her head ruefully, her eyes holding Katniss perfectly in place.

"Come on," she commanded, extending her hand and all but dragging Katniss to her feet.

The two girls walked arm in arm through the winding corridors of 13, their silence and premature grief weighing too heavily on their shoulders as they made their way to the hospital wing. They passed a sea of familiar faces, all turned to Katniss with varying looks of sympathy spread across their features, but the Mockingjay refused to acknowledge a single one of them, keeping her head down and her lips pressed into a thin line. She would not crumble again.

By the time they reached the doorway of Gale's room, Katniss could feel the panic and hysteria bubbling up in her chest and threatening to claim her once again. Sensing her sister's inner turmoil, Prim gave her hand a tight squeeze and wrapped her own fingers around the door handle so that Katniss would be spared the task.

"Is… is he even awake?" Katniss inquired, swiping at her wet cheeks with the back of her free hand and sucking in a steadying breath.

Prim shook her head, struggling to hold back her own sadness as she peeked through the window in the door at the figure lying in the bed, hooked up to varying pieces of machinery and swathed in a grey hospital issue sheet. It seemed such a paradox, seeing Gale looking so frail and helpless in a bed that was almost too tiny to accommodate his large frame. Katniss wavered and hesitated again, but Prim swung open the door and all but propelled her sister into the dimly lit room.

The machines beeped and Katniss started, her gaze drawn to Gale's chest as she sought the reassurance of watching it rise and fall with her own eyes. Once satisfied that he was indeed still with her, Katniss stumbled towards the bed, her hand outstretched and ready to fit around his.

She perched on the edge of the plastic chair positioned at the side of the bed and then spent several moments scrabbling beneath the sheet in order to find Gale's calloused hand. When she did, she was surprised to find that his skin was still warm to the touch, perhaps even a promising sign. Undoubtedly he looked pale and the dark circles staining the skin underneath his eyes were worrying, but Katniss forced herself to look away and back to her sister.

"Can he hear me?" she inquired, cocking her head to one side as she regarded Prim, who gave a small shrug.

"The truth is we don't really know," she answered, her voice gentle as though she were addressing a wounded animal and, in many ways, Katniss supposed she was.

"But I like to think he can," Prim finally finished, offering Katniss the first genuine smile she had managed to muster since Gale had been carried out of the hovercraft and deposited in the med wing, groaning, shaking and bleeding profusely. Prim blinked once, dispelling the image from her mind, and affixed her sister with what she hoped was her sternest look.

"I'll be right outside," Prim stated, making her exit and casting one final glance in her sister's direction before the door clicked closed.

Katniss stared around the room, taking in the sight of the machines and tubes that were at once both comforting and alarming. Squeezing Gale's hand, she rested her head lightly against his chest, seeking out the comfort and security she had always found in his arms. But Gale remained motionless, his chest moving up and down in measured breaths that seemed unnatural and stilted. Her free hand fluttered against his chest, and Katniss brushed her fingertips over the cotton fabric of the sheet and the standard issue hospital gown he had been dressed in. Letting her hand linger over where she assumed Gale's heart was positioned, Katniss raised their joined hands to her chest before laying her head back down next to his.

"Gale? I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm here and… I… I need you to wake up now. I need you to come back to me," she pleaded, watching his eyelids flicker as he slept. She took a moment to once again study his face; his thick lashes, the full curve of his lips, and his strong jaw that was set determinedly even in slumber.

"Your mom, your brothers, Posy… Prim… they all need you. I need you. So don't you dare leave us, you hear me?" she tried her best to sound commanding but realised that she had only succeeded in sounding desperate and heartbroken.

"I can't do this without you, Gale," she whispered, blinking profusely as a fresh cascade of tears splashed down her cheeks and dampened the white cotton pillowcase beneath her head.

"You need to wake up. There's things we need to talk about… There's something I have to tell you," she said, reaching out and carefully sweeping his hair from his forehead with her fingertips. "I'm not going tell you now. You have to come back to me first. And until then, I'm gonna stay right here and wait, like you waited for me. Like you've always waited."

As good as her word, Katniss settled back in her chair and waited.

She watched minutes and hours slowly bleed into days, never leaving Gale's side except to use the bathroom and to occasionally stretch her legs when the need arose. The doctors and nurses quickly gave up on attempting to dislodge their permanent visitor and, rather than try to dissuade her sister from staying as others had hoped, Prim instead smuggled her food rations in her pockets during her breaks.

On the fourth day of Gale being locked in a seemingly unreachable slumber, the unthinkable finally happened; Gale Hawthorne took a final, stuttering breath.

And opened his eyes.

x-x-x

Six weeks later…

It had been almost two months since Katniss had felt the sunshine kiss her cheeks and warm the tips of her ears, and so in the middle of the meadow she took a moment to close her eyes, throw back her head, and simply enjoy the sensation of being alive.

At her side, Gale stood patiently, leaning on the walking stick that he had favoured since being released from the infirmary. Prim had been particularly insistent on its use and, between the relentless badgering from her, Hazel and Mrs. Everdeen, Gale had been forced into obedience. He walked with a slight limp, understandably favouring his uninjured leg, but his impatience to be declared fit and back to full health was almost palpable every time Katniss saw him. She had managed to persuade everyone that what Gale really needed in order to speed up his recovery was a chance to return to the woods and fill his lungs with fresh air, even just as a spectator whilst Katniss hunted. Surprisingly, Prim had backed her up and the outing had been sanctioned on the condition that Katniss and Gale both carried communication devices in case they met trouble head on, as they both had a tendency to do.

Ghosting her hand over the blades of grass that surrounded them, Katniss let out a contented sigh and raised her hand above her forehead to shield her eyes from the sun. All that time living in the vast bunkers of District 13 had made her eyes slightly more sensitive to light than she was used to.

An easy silence had fallen between Katniss and Gale, and they were content to lay side by side in the grass, taking comfort in the other's company, just as they had always done.

Reclining her head, Katniss noted a troubled frown had settled on Gale's face, and she leaned up on her elbow and trailed a freshly plucked dandelion along the skin of his arm in order to get his attention.

"Gale? What is it?" she asked, noting with concern how he averted his eyes and seemed unwilling to hold her gaze.

He searched the horizon, squinting against the light as he sighed; the sound so utterly melancholy that it made Katniss impulsively reach out to incline his face toward her.

Licking his lips, Gale stared down at the ground and exhaled, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't save him."

Katniss blinked in surprise, shaking her head as she quickly made sense of his words and curled her fingers around his arm.

"No, Gale. No. It's not your fault," she insisted, "I don't know why Peeta did what he did, but… he made a choice. He made a choice and I have to find a way to live with that."

Gale nodded reluctantly and his expression seemed to darken even further. He stared down at her hand on his arm and placed his fingers over hers.

"I'd do anything to make you happy, Catnip. Even if that… even if that means I don't get to be the one beside you. You chose him, and I accept that. I lost you and…"

"Gale…" Katniss interrupted, finding herself silenced as he stared at her with unspeakable intensity.

"It's okay, Katniss, really. Maybe you were never mine to lose," he admitted, "but I wanted to bring him home. I swear to you I did everything I could to bring home the guy you love."

Growing increasingly exasperated, Katniss reached up and placed her fingertips against his lips, "You did."

Gale fell silent, his mouth opening in surprise as he digested her words, daring to hope that the meaning he had extracted from them was the correct one. Finally, to dispel any doubt still lingering in Gale's mind, Katniss leaned forwards and brushed her lips tenderly against his.

Her breath was warm against his skin and her hand came to rest against his cheek, pulling him hungrily to her to deepen the kiss that had come completely out of the blue. His heart soaring with renewed hope, Gale wove his fingers through Katniss' hair and reciprocated the gesture, his eyes fluttering closed as he sank back against the grass. Katniss moved to hover directly over him, one palm splayed on the ground to support her weight and the other resting lightly on Gale's broad chest. Finally, their need to draw oxygen became too great to ignore, and the pair tumbled apart like an electric current had been passed through their bodies.

"Woah…" Gale panted as he struggled to regulate his breathing and heart rate, both of which had grown erratic from the sheer proximity of the woman he loved; the woman he was certain he had loved since he was fourteen years old and traipsing through the words to hunt squirrels.

"When you… when I saw you in the training centre, all I could think about was how much I didn't want to lose you," Katniss whispered, drawing away and suddenly curling her knees into her chest. "Even before Peeta did what he did, all I wanted was for you to be back home and safe. With me."

"Katniss, what are you…" Gale began, finding himself silenced once more as Katniss simply shook her head at him, finally raising her gaze to meet his and allowing him to see the tears that streaked down her cheeks. Gale swallowed hard, yearning to reach out and brush the tears away but hardly daring to move.

"It's you, Gale," she half choked out, pushing her hair behind her ears and closing her eyes as she continued, "it's always been you. I just got so caught up in everything… in the lies and the guilt and… I guess I stopped seeing it – what we had."

She sniffled as she continued to stare at the ground, "Maybe now it's too late to go back and I get that. So much has happened. But I just can't stand you thinking that your life means so little to me that I could be anything but overjoyed to have you by my side."

Gale remained quiet, hearing his heart pounding in his own ears. He longed to believe that what Katniss had said was true but he had stopped hoping that she would love him back a long time ago.

"But what about Peeta?" he demanded, wincing as he sat up and hesitantly took her hand in his own, "Katniss… I know you better than anyone. You love him, I know it. I saw you, I…"

"You're right," Katniss nodded, and Gale felt his heart poised to break once again.

"I did... I… I do. But not like that. Not like this," she demonstrated, leaning closer and brushing a tender kiss against his lips.

"Peeta's my friend, but I couldn't make myself love him the way they wanted. I wanted… I want him home safely. But I need to stop lying to everyone, Gale. I need to stop lying to myself," she said, drawing back to look into his eyes. Her palm swept his cheek and he could not help but lean into her touch, even though he was desperately afraid that she would pull away at any moment. Gale had become so accustomed to letting Katniss go that it felt almost like second nature.

"Don't let me fall more in love with you, Katniss… not if you're going to leave again," he said honestly, "I need to know this is real and not some kind of knee-jerk reaction because Peeta's all messed up and for once I look like the smarter choice."

"Is that really what you think of me?" Katniss asked, suddenly looking away and letting her hand drop from his face. "Guess I deserved that."

She thought over the broadcasts from the arena, the interviews and press junkets that Gale had seen; he could never have known how often she had longed for him to be there beside her, how in the quiet moments away from the cameras, he had been the one she kept secretly in her heart.

Gale's hand captured the back of her head and he turned her to face him, his expression earnest. "You deserve to be happy, Catnip. I just need to be sure that I'm the guy who'll make you happy."

She blinked away a tear and smiled at him as if he had known the answer to that question all along. And for once, Gale allowed himself to believe that he may finally get the girl.

"So, what do we do now?" he asked, his smile growing as he contemplated the thousands of kisses they had sacrificed that he had every intention of making up for.

Katniss shrugged, keeping perfectly still as Gale inclined his head as if to kiss her again, and stared down at her lips with such hunger that she felt every nerve ending in her body practically singing with delight.

"We stay together… and cause all kinds of trouble."

x-x-x

He wasn't sure how long it had been since they had come for him. All he knew was that he had been moved to another cell in the bowels of the building and that the guards had all of a sudden become a little less hostile and savage.

Food rations had gradually increased, and the torture had stopped.

That was perhaps to be expected - he had after all thwarted an attempt by the Mockingjay's rebel friends to rescue him. He had warned District 13 of the impending air raid headed their way, and he had warned the Capital of the rebels' less than covert operation.

Peeta had learned that it was good to keep the playing field level. Katniss might have chosen her side, but that didn't mean the same had to be true for him. Besides, the very last person he would ever have accepted help from was Gale Hawthorne - the boy he had watched all those years in school as he effortlessly charmed the girls and excelled in his studies, with an infuriating air of indifference to it all. The only exception to that rule had of course been Katniss.

Peeta knew the reason Gale had been part of his rescue team was his devotion to Katniss, and the depth of his selflessness and blind adoration left Peeta nauseated. He had watched Gale take a bullet to the leg; Peeta had remained conscious long enough to see the extent of the blood pooled on the floor beneath Gale, and he had looked with satisfaction at the terror stricken expression on the young soldier's face.

The sudden sound of footfalls in the hall outside his cell catapulted Peeta into an instantly defensive pose, and he lifted his gaze warily to the door as the sound of the lock being opened caused every nerve ending to tense.

Blinking against the harsh light that suddenly filtered into his cell, Peeta's mouth dropped open in confusion at the sight of his impromptu visitor.

President Snow observed the young man for a few brief moments, before a slow, snarling smile appeared on his lips.

"Peeta, my dear boy…" he began, folding his hands in front of him as he appeared to deliberate over his words, "I was hoping you and I could talk."

Peeta shrugged, "I don't know anything about Katniss or her friends. If I did, don't you think I'd tell you?"

Snow chuckled softly, stroking the ends of his beard as he arched an equally white eyebrow. "Oh, I'm almost certain that you would, which is precisely why I'm here."

"Okay…" Peeta replied, feeling more at ease with each passing moment. Something about the President's countenance had him intrigued.

"I have a proposition for you, young man; one I think you will like very much. It is the opportunity of a life-time, I assure you."

Peeta needed no time to think over his proposal and the possibilities it implied, and he indicated the cot bed in his room with a somewhat self-assured shrug and a wave of his hand.

Nodding his head, Peeta answered with a haunting half smile, "I'm all ears."