The mayor saw suffering. He saw pain. As leader of District 12, pain and suffering were accepted, natural parts of life.
Never did see suffering like he did after the mine exploded. The whole town shook, physically and emotionally. So many lives were lost, and he almost signed a mandate that would have allowed miners to be as young as twelve in order to make up for those workers- the Capitol saw them as nothing other than labor machines- who were lost in the blast. The mayor thought of Katniss and immediately crumpled the paper into his waste bin. His daughter would certainly be spared, but Katniss, living in the poverty she did, with the drive she had, would undoubtedly dress herself as a boy and slip into the mine to provide for her family. He could not allow it in good conscience.
A month after the blast showed no sign of his daughter's friend. His wife was once again bolted in her room, and as each week passed, the fire lit under Madge was starting to fade. He was losing both of them again. He knew he should not be so selfish, he knew that Katniss was suffering so much and the last thing she needed was to continue to be his family's rock. Not when her own was surely falling to pieces.
Still, he could not help but give in when Madge begged him to take her to Katniss' house. She hugged him, actually hugged him, for the first time in months. Maybe it will be good for Katniss to see her, he rationalized with himself. Maybe Madge can help her.
The mayor could not remember if he'd ever led his daughter through this part of town. They passed the incredibly obvious black market he allowed to operate. The Peacekeepers grew to pity the inhabitants of the town nearly as much as he did, so it was rare anyone there was given any trouble. He saw his daughter's eyes widen, taking all of it in, but she dare not ask they go in. She knew it was enough to ask of her father to take off the afternoon to go to the very border of the district.
Still, he admired her. Not once did she complain as her shoes got increasingly dirty, the lace on her socks growing darker with the coal dust her feet kicked up. Stopping at a fork in the road, he reached into his pocket for a crumpled piece of paper with directions on it. He'd memorized them the night before, his nerves always getting the better of him, but he checked once more. He'd rather not be lost in this area.
When they finally came across the house, the mayor could scarcely believe it, but Madge's face betrayed no emotion. He imagined Katniss described her home in the past, so the state and size of it was most likely of no surprise to her. Madge took a deep breath and ran to the door before he could so much say a word to her, fists flying against the door.
"KATNIIIIIIIIISSSSSS!" he finally caught up to her, grasping her arms to stop her incessant banging.
"Quiet now, Madge," he shushed. "They may not be home. No need to disturb the entire neighborhood," as he finished his sentence, the door creaked open, a blue eye peering from inside the crack. Madge gasped, excited, but it was short-lived.
"Sorry, we're not taking any visitors right now," Katniss moved to close the door, but the mayor stopped it with his hand.
"Katniss, please. Madge came to offer her condolences," he saw the hesitance in the girl's eyes. She sighed, resigned, and allowed them to step inside.
Inside there were at least six people lying on every surface available with various degrees of injury. the mayor recognized them immediately. They all were in the mine at the time of the explosion. Katniss turned away from the mayor to tend to one of their bandages.
"My mom usually takes care of these people, but she isn't feeling up to it right now," she was still tending to the man, her brow furrowed in concentration. She stopped a moment to dry the sweat off of her forehead with her arm before continuing. "And these guys aren't getting better on their own, you know?"
Before Katniss could say anything else, the mayor's daughter was by her side, preparing the makeshift bandages for the man lying on the kitchen table. Katniss' lips curled upward in a small smile of appreciation, and before he knew it, the mayor was going around from patient to patient, sitting and talking with them to take their minds off of the pain. He was in the middle of his favorite (and only) joke about President Snow in the bathtub when a pair of small feet shuffled into the room. Katniss hurried herself over and steered the girl back into what the mayor could only assume was the family bedroom.
"Prim, I told you that you're not supposed to come in here," she reprimanded softly. "I'll be done soon."
"But I'm hungry and mama won't wake up!" the girl wailed. Katniss shushed the girl, singing her a song he vaguely recognized. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Madge stop her work, as if in a trance. She began to mouth the words as she continued to tend to the next man, mimicking what her friend had done with the other arm injury in the room.
Once it was dark, the mayor decided it was time for he and his daughter to go home. He stepped outside to let the girls say their goodbyes. At one point, he thought he heard someone sniffling, but Madge stepped out of the house a minute later, dry-eyed.
"We have to help her," she said to her father. "We have to help her like she helped me and mom. She can't do everything by herself. At least I have you, but-" her lower lip began to tremble. "Now her dad's gone and her mom's like my mom and she has a baby sister and she needs us to help her!" with that she lost all control and began sobbing into her father's coat.
He needed another plan.
Their housekeeper lived a stone's throw away from the Everdeen's home. He offered to raise her salary- how he would have, he had no idea- but she insisted that she go in and check in on the family without any reward. "Her mama saved my husband's life more times than I like to think," she said. "It's the least I can do."
Two weeks later, Madge convinced Katniss that it would be all right to come over, if only for half an hour. His daughter's feet were swinging as she sat down to breakfast, and she hummed for fifteen minutes straight while eating her cereal. She's not going to be magically okay, he warned her. She might not be as happy as she was before the accident. She may never be that happy again.
Madge cast him a disapproving look and continued shovelling her cereal into her mouth.
"I was grumpy before and Katniss was still my friend," she explained. "So I'm still going to be her friend if she's grumpy. She's still Katniss." And so his daughter left for school with a spring in her step that was missing for some time.
Around lunch, he heard the door next to his office creak open again, the sound of hesitating footsteps approaching his door. His wife's gaunt face appeared in the doorway. "That girl is sad. Fix it," she paused at the door for a moment. The mayor blinked a few times, opening his eyes to his wife's form retreating from the doorway.
The first time his wife talks to him in three years is about Katniss.
He should be angry.
Instead, it gives him more drive to help the girl in whatever way he can. If he can get to her, in time, he could get to his wife, too.
The first thing he does is invite her to join Madge's piano lessons. If the girl liked to sing, she'd probably like the piano, too. After all, it only made sense. Katniss sat on the bench for all of five minutes before she slammed the piano shut, bruising the teacher's fingers in the process. Madge ran after her, and the mayor was left facing a woman whose medical bills he was not able to afford. And one of those fingers looked broken.
He heard footsteps overhead, and he sighed in relief. At least she stayed. He began to apologize to the piano teacher profusely, offering to bandage her hand and make a cup of tea. When in doubt, always offer tea. That was his motto. He was one of the few with free access to sugar in the district, but he never took it for granted. He used it more for appeasement of others than anything else.
She graciously accepted, and they made their way to the kitchen. The teacher sat herself at the table.
"That girl's pretty upset with you, you know," she remarked quietly. The mayor looked at her quizzically. "I mean, it's fairly obvious. Her father dies in that accident, and her family was struggling enough already. And now she has to take care of her family. She probably thought you were waving your affluence in her face."
"You know," he started, taking the whistling kettle off of the stove. "I didn't even think of it that way. That poor child." He pulled two mugs out of the cabinet. "Do you take milk in your tea?"
"Yes, please."
The piano teacher stayed for several hours, taking advantage of the mayor's access to ice in order to reduce the swelling in her fingers. As night fell, she took her leave graciously, and the mayor went upstairs to check on the girls, who fell quiet at least an hour before.
He opened the door to see them both collapsed on the bed, sleeping, Katniss curled under Madge's arm. He closed the door quietly and left them there. Katniss needed her rest, that much was for certain. He would take her home early in the morning.
