I do not own the Hunger Games. All rights reserved.
Thank you so much for the reviews, alerts, favorites, etc. They make me really, really happy, like you have no idea. Thank you for taking the time to read and for really enjoying it. I love to write, and I can only hope people love (or at least like!) what I write. Sorry for the late update!
-x-
For one hour, Gale Hawthorne had been listening to the endless, ominous buzz of the fence in front of him.
For one hour, he had been sitting next to Madge Undersee, stiff as a stone.
For one hour, he had cursed Panem, Madge, Katniss, that stupid Muffin Man who she was with, Peacekeepers, Snow, his father for leaving him a sonofabitch watch that barely worked, District 12 in general, and himself.
For one hour, his ears had been filled with the noise of the fence, Madge's rapid breathing, and the rare sound of the birds.
He couldn't take it anymore.
"How long…How long do you think that we'll be here?" Madge's large eyes seemed to get even wider.
Feminine predatory tricks, Gale assumed.
"Well, let's consult the schedule of fence electricity, shall we?" He raised his voice an octave. "Hmm, it seems like it's everlasting, doesn't it?"
"I just, figured… You'd been in this forest before, right?"
"No, Madge, I enjoy taking random people on random walks in places that I have never ventured to. The risk of a snake bite, a swarm of bees swarming in on me, or sinking in quicksand is delightful to even consider."
"No need for the sarcasm," she began biting her thumbnail anxiously. "I was just trying to pass time. See, it's passing quickly already! I bet a whole fifteen minutes have passed since we started talking!"
Even Gale didn't have the heart to tell her that they had been talking for barely a minute. Poor girl obviously had no sense of time. Or space. Or anything.
Gale sighed, running a hand through his hair and then craning his neck so that he could look at the sky.
"Look at the birds," Madge said, delighted, "Look at their wings! They're almost as large as the bodies themselves!"
"Really fascinating," Gale muttered, turning his eyes back to the fence. He then hunched his shoulders and faced forward, squinting. He thought that his eyes were fooling him, but unfortunately, he was blessed with 20/20 vision. He caught sight of three men wearing the white uniforms that most Panem citizens were familiar with. But these Peacekeepers weren't any of the ones that stopped at the Hob or traipsed down the Seam nervously or sashayed flamboyantly down Main Street. These Peacekeepers had the trained, serious faces of professionals.
And they were headed straight for the forest.
Straight towards the fence.
Straight towards them.
"Come on," Gale grabbed Madge's wrist in a sudden motion and ran towards the deep forest, sailing over logs and twigs, crunching over leaves, and being careful to not shock the birds enough to draw attention.
"Where are we going?" Madge struggled against his tight grip, but Gale held on tighter. "Are you crazy?"
"Yes," he shouted over his shoulder as he continued darting throughout the woods in a zig-zag pattern, "I'm crazy for dragging us both into this situation in the first place!" At that, he lost his balance and tripped over a stupid sonofabitch stone and fell, pulling Madge with him.
"Are you okay? I'm clumsy, I'm sorry." Gale's eyes darted around the forests, but nothing could be seen.
Madge brushed herself off and stood up. Leaves had somehow made their way into her blonde tendrils, but she managed to look even daintier than usual. "I'm okay. Are you?"
Gale didn't even respond. His breathing was heavier than he would've liked it to be, and his heart was beating almost painfully. His eyes darted around, from side to side, and he tried to keep as still as possible. Briefly, he wondered if Katniss would have had any idea what to do. With a wry smile, he figured that she would have done some expert trick and jumped from a branch to the other side of the fence without missing a beat. Katniss could do those things. He shook his head.
A few minutes passed.
"Are…Are we safe?" Madge brushed drops of water from her forehead tentatively.
"I don't know," Gale replied, too preoccupied to busy himself with giving her a Socratic answer in return. "I…hope so?"
Madge peered up at the dark sky. "I hope so too. It's getting really dark." She tried to keep the worry out of her voice. "Is it really that late?"
Gale looked up at the cloudy sky. "No, it's not. It's going to rain."
Not two seconds after he uttered the sentence, a loud clap of thunder rocked the forest, the ground, Madge, and Gale. Drops began falling like heavy clumps, knocking down leaves and sending acorns tumbling to the ground in an unattractive fashion.
Madge tried to cover her head, and followed Gale, rushing underneath a tree where only a few steady streams of water coated them.
For a moment, they just stood there, looking at the heavy downpour of water and silently wondering how long it would last.
"In District 12," Gale announced to no one in particular, "Nothing lasts long. Even the rain. I expect it to be over within half an hour at the most."
Madge simply nodded. For the next half hour, they watched the rain grow steadily heavier, and the leaves began falling on top of them and allowing water to seep through. Neither of them dared to try another tree. All of them looked completely sopping wet. Gale just hoped that they were far away enough from the lake, just in case it decided to flood all of a sudden.
"What happens if my dad sends out people looking for me?" Madge wondered aloud.
"Jeez, well at least your parents won't be starving because you never got back home," Gale replied angrily, settling himself against the cold trunk of the tree.
To his surprise, Madge patted him tenderly on the arm.
"I'm sure someone will help them for today," she said simply.
"Listen, Undersee, if the world was that nice, we wouldn't be in this situation. There would be no fence. There would be no hunting. There would be no worries, no deaths, no friends sent off to their deaths, no Games, no starvation, no illness, no nothing," he raised his voice. "There would be no father that dies and leaves an eldest son with his dried-up mother and his five siblings to take care of. There would be no mother who coughs and coughs and wants only the best for her son but can't give a single damned thing to him. There would be no little brothers and sisters coming to the eldest one's feet begging him for more food. There would be no little baby dying because of lack of food. No, Undersee, the world is not that nice. The world chews you up and spits you up. Alive or dead."
Madge stayed quiet for a moment.
"Do you blame your father for everything?" She asked, turning to him.
"What are you, one of those Capitol psychologist nutjobs?" He scoffed. "No, I don't blame him for everything. I blame this stupid sonofabitch government for everything."
Another pause.
"I do too."
"What did you say?" Gale thought that a sudden clap of thunder had muffled her words.
"I blame the government too," she said softly, "for taking away my father's life outside of his career."
She left it at that, and Gale thought it best not to probe into her life, as he had snapped at her for entering in his life.
"Are you hungry?" He asked.
"No," she lied, just as her stomach growled.
"Alright come on, just because I'm common doesn't mean I'm stupid."
"I don't think you're common."
"Well I do," Gale lifted himself up. "Fuck. All the wildlife is scared off. We'll have to deal with fruits and grains for now." He looked at the curtain of rain and dove off, coming back soaking wet minutes later with a full bag of berries, vegetation, and nuts.
"You're all wet," Madge observed.
"No, I'm toasty dry." He shook his dark hair and stripped off his wet jacket, flinging it against the tree.
They ravenously dug into the supply, not bothering to leave anything for later. The growling noises in their stomachs stopped, and they were once again faced with the rain. More importantly, they now had to face their shivers, once clouded by their hunger pangs.
"Is it just me, or is it freezing?" Gale pulled on his soaking jacket again, which was now cold and wet. He touched his hair, surprised by how icy it felt.
Madge shivered in response. They both sat for moments, grabbing their bodies together and trying in vain to warm themselves up.
"You know what they say?" Madge said.
"That if we cuddle, our body heat will increase? Yes, I know. Not willing to prove that theory correct," Gale clasped his body and took off his jacket again, pulling it off and vainly trying to wring out the water. A few drops came out, but that was it.
They sat in silence, absorbed in their own thoughts. When Gale tried to look at his watch again, it was way too late, and he wondered how time had passed so quickly.
"Shit. It's late."
"I figured," Madge yawned, her arms shaking involuntarily. "Do you think I can go to sleep?"
"Sure, it's not like we're getting any visitors anytime soon." Gale muttered, throwing a pebble into the rain absentmindedly.
"Okay. Well, good night. Wake me if anything," she said, her voice fading. She laid down, closed her eyes, and faced him, tucking her hands under her head like a porcelain doll.
Gale nodded in response. He had to admit it: The girl was doing abnormally well for living such a spoiled life as a little twit and then coming into the forest and getting trapped here with a guy she barely knew. She was holding up. She was a trooper. Just like Katniss.
Just like himself.
He looked over at her. She shivered, with white gusts of breath coming out of her mouth. Something about her made her look so prettily pathetic that his own breath caught.
Before he could rethink what he was doing, he slid down next to her, facing the treetops, and put one arm around her. She must have not been completely asleep, because she sensed him and got closer to him, lying on top of his right arm for support, and slung an arm around his chest, her breathing even.
The cold must be making me delusional, Gale said to himself immediately. This is insane. I barely know this chick. We are most certainly not at the "wrap your arms around me" stage. Dammit, we shouldn't even be at the first-name stage. Damn it, we shouldn't be at any stage at this point.
He wondered what would happen if and if they didn't get out. If they got out, it would end up in an awkward situation. They would maybe see each other once in a blue moon, nod at each other, and keep walking. OR she would assume that they were friends and tag along with him every time he came hunting. If they didn't get out, what would happen? He allowed his imagination to wander. Maybe the fence would stay on forever. Madge could sew them new clothes. He could hunt everyday and collect nuts and berries and fish and water from the lake. He was strong enough to use bark to make makeshift beds. Who knows? Maybe they'd become friends. Maybe best friends. Maybe, if the moon hit her face in the right way and his streak of imagination got the best of him, they could be-
Gale Hawthorne, you hormone-driven bitch. Shut the fuck up and don't let your mind wander, he scolded himself, looking down at her in the crazy possibility that he might have been speaking out loud. You're being ridiculous. You're going to get out of here. Dammit, when this sonofabitch rain stops, you march your asses back down to the fence and beat the shit out of a Peacekeeper if you have to. You will be getting out of here. Don't make foolish thoughts.
Despite his inner rationalizations, however, Gale was left with a sinking feeling. The feeling that he would not be completely horrified to be stuck in a forest with Madge Undersee forever.
