Hey guys! This week is a minimum week in school, so probably I'll write one or two more chapters by this time next week. This chapter is also the last stable ground I have on Gale. I mean, after this there's nothing in the book about Gale, obviously. So y'all can leave reviews for what you want to happen to him.

Also, the chapter for Gale is alot longer than Peeta's, not sure how that happened. One more thing: I did a better job editing today, (sorry, but I HATE editing) so hopefully this will be a little better quality. Ok! Read!

toucantrebleclef

Chapter Four

Peeta

I sit in the Justice Building, absentmindedly stroking the soft velvet couch. I feel, rather than hear, footsteps outside the door. It's Daymen and Jolian. I know that this is an important thing because Jolian's fianceé is nowhere in sight.

Daymen sits on the couch, and Jolian on the other side. It's a Mellark sandwich.

Jolian speaks first.

"Look Peeta. We all know you don't have a sporting chance in these games. You can't kill, you just can't." He's always been blunt.

Daymen clears his throat. "So that's why we're saying our good-byes now. You've been a good brother. I wish I could think of something more- poetic - to say, but you know that's never been me." He tries to smile, but his face crumples slightly, and he turns away.

"How about, 'May the odds be ever your favor,' little brother," say Jolian gently.

I nod, head down. Unlike them, I'm not tough, at Jolian says. A tear escapes my eye and splashes my reaping pants. Daymen has the grace not to snort.

I'll never see them again. That's for sure. And though they can be jerks, they've always had my back, always supported my decisions and stood up to Mother with me.

Daymen says, so quietly I think I misheard it, "Peeta, I love you." He's never, not ever said this to me. This sends me over the edge. My tears fall freely, my pants a salty puddle. I make a choking noise and my shoulders start to shake.

I feel a hand on my back. "Goodbye, Peeta." Jolian says. They get up. I look up. They can't go yet! They're all I have! "Wait! I- Just- Thank you," I choke. They turn. "For what? says Jolian. I sniffle pitifully. "Everything. For being my brothers. For this."

"Well, we can't help that," joke Daymen. I grin waterly. "Bye D, Bye J," I say. I haven't called them this since I can't even remember when. "Bye P," they chorus. We smile, and they depart, closing the door softly.

I compose myself, wiping my nose on the tassel of the couch. That, I think, is for putting me in the Games. It's not a fair trade, snot on a couch for death, but hopefully it will merit at least an annoyance.

My father comes in. He is blunt. "Peeta. I hate goodbyes, especially long ones, and you know that better than anyone." I nod, gesturing for him to continue. He takes a breath. "So here it is, plain and simple: I love you. I always will, even when you're gone. And I planned to say this far, far in the future, but you're my favorite son. I know I'm not supposed to play favorites, but too bad. Goodbye, Peeta." It's the most words I've ever heard him speak. He's generally a man of few words. He presses his fingers against his lips, then out to me.

"Goodbye Father," I whisper. He kisses me on the head, pats my shoulder, looking at me hard for a moment, like he's memorizing my face. Then he turns and leaves.

Lastly, Mother comes in. I am shocked. It must show on my face, because she says, slightly offended, " You are my son, Peeta." She is exquisitely calm. Not sitting down, she wanders the room. "I'd say I love you, and all that, but you know it. So here." She opens her hand, gestures for me to do the same, and drops something into my hand.

Before I can see what it is, she says, "District Twelve might have a chance this year." My heart leaps, does she mean it?! "She's a survivor, that one." My shining bubble bursts. Of course. How did I expect more?

"Goodbye, Peeta. And," she says solemnly, "may the odds be ever in your favor."

She strides to the door. Before she can escape, I call, "I thank you for your part in my journey." It's cheesy, but I had to say something. She nods, not turning, and I think I see her brush a tear.

I open my hand. It's a round, embellished box with a string on it. I find nothing about it special, then shake it, frustrated. Suddenly, there is a click, and the lid swings open. I peer inside. It's compass. I forgot about this. It was given to Mother by her first husband. This is a precious gift. Only can be opened by turning left, then right. She valued it.

I guess this is her way of moving on.

Suddenly Capitol attendants poke me in the back. I quickly close the compass and let it drop around my neck. They pull me soundlessly to a car. I've never been in one. Strange.

Before I know it, we're at the station. I see Katniss, far away. Oddly enough, she seems as if she hasn't cried. At all. I know she's not heartless, but in some ways, this offends me.

Then I'm being shoved on a train. Everything in moving so fast, it's like someone turned up a speed dial on my life. The train is shiny and orange, and I trip on the stairs. I'm dragged to a room resembling a living room. Someone mutters instruction on how to get to my quarters. I nod unfeelingly, just wanting to be left alone.

Soon the room is quiet. I stand up, and walk, zombie like to my quarters. Opening the door, I don't even marvel at the embellished room. The exhaustion of the say is rushing in me faster than this train. I don't even make it to the bed before I collapse.

Gale

The Capitol's anthem is thudding in my ears. I can't even think, I'm so worked up. As soon as the Anthem ends, they drag Katniss off to the Justice building, which is a mini, undersophisticated Capitol in itself. I sprint behind them, but the doors close. I don't even notice Prim on my heels until she crashes into me. I turn. Instead of a crumpling figure, there is a red-faced, blip of rage in the universe.

"How could you?" she screams. I've never seen her so angry. "You sent Katniss- You- How-" Prim sputters. She can't even get control of her anger, and neither can I. Every word is like a knife in the back. I can't rein myself in.

"I KNOW, PRIM!" I explode. Prim shrinks into herself. I feel terrible. But I'm in a roll, I physically can't stop now.

"You don't think I know that? You don't think that's eating me alive right now? IT IS! But I know, Prim, I know she has a better chance of winning. She can protect herself, sustain. You can't, you'd die in a minute. That's why I helped her."

Prim is a ball, curled up. "I'm so sorry- wasn't your fault- I-I-" She bursts into tears and runs into the Justice Building, which is now open for visitors. I feel terrible, innocent Prim didn't mean anything by it. I follow her. "Prim-PRIM!" I yell. No response. I duck into the Justice Building, to see Katniss and Prim.

The room is tall, and vaulted. Covered in velvet and gilded to perfection. I look back down. There's a short line in the exuberant room, waiting to visit Katniss and the other victor, Peeta. I can't believe I just saw him this morning. And now his fate is intertwined with Katniss's. Unsettled by this, I shake off the feeling.

Minutes tick by. I know that Katniss's time must be limited, so I fidget with one of the tassels on a giant curtain. Finally, a Capitol attendant beckons me into the room where Katniss must lie. I surge forward, sweeping past her impassive face.

Katniss sits on a velvet couch, stroking the fabric. She's not crying, but she looks so petite, so vulnerable. Exactly like Prim did ten minutes ago. Curled in on herself. Scared, but trying not be.

She turns and sees me standing there. I open my arms and she walks into me with a hug. Enveloping her in my warmth, I sniff her. She smells so good. But time is ticking, so I must start. I speak into her hair.

"Listen, getting a knife should be pretty easy, but you've got to get your hands on a bow. That's your best chance." We both know how Katniss is with bows. She has more than just skill, she has a gift. What she can do with that bow has saved both our lives multiple time and kept our families sustained for years. It's like magic. There's no modesty, no beating around the bush.

"They don't always have bows," she says thoughtfully, pulling away. I feel a whoosh of cool air hit me in the spot where she was.

"Then make one," I say. "Even a weak bow is better than no bow at all." It's hard though, making a bow. I tried a couple times, after that first day I met her. She wouldn't let me lend hers, and I didn't have the nerve or the arrogance to ask. So I tried to make one. I worked for days, failing again and again. Eventually I succeeded in making a weak, flimsy bow, but it snapped when I tried to shoot something far away.

"I don't even know if there'll be wood," says Katniss, pacing. There's no way to make a bow without wood.

"There's almost always some wood," I remind. "Since the year half of them died of cold. Not much entertainment in that." It's all a game to them, anyway, and one watching kids freeze makes them want roll the dice again, hope they have more luck and fun this time. So now there's usually wood, to make fires and torches.

"Yes, there's usually some," she agrees, sounding hopeful.

Then I think of something. "Katniss, it's just hunting. You're the best hunter I know," I say. I'm not flattering her, it's true.

"It's not just hunting. They're armed, they think," She's now fiddling with her hair.

I speak the grim truth. "How different can it be, really?

There's a silence. I realize that while she does have a very good chance, her being an archer, and knowing how to handle knives, she might not make it back. It's something my mind has rejected until now. With it comes supreme clarity- I realize something else. I don't just love her, I'm in love with her. Things come crashing down. When the boys at school smiled at her, how much I tried not to be jealous. When Darius was flirting with her, and I was pissed at him. Things make sense now, my emotions are in line. I have to tell her how I feel. In case I never see her again. I can't think the word 'dead', it's too weighty, too real. So I sum up my courage, and open my mouth to tell her.

But then the Capitol peacekeeper comes bursting in, like Katniss will miss the Games if she's late, and tells me it's time to leave. What? No! I still need to tell her I love her. "Just one more m-" The Peacekeeper grabs me by the shoulder and attempts to haul me away. I push her off, but I have only moments.

Katniss's eyes go frantic. "Don't let them starve!" she yells. I'm desperate to convey my love. "I won't! Katniss, remember I-" and then they pull is apart and slam the doors, and she might never know what I was trying to say.

The Peacekeeper shoves me outside, into a small alleyway, and punches me in the face. I've almost never seen them act so unprofessional, but this is surely for the pushing and disrespect.

Blood spurts from my nose and mouth and trickles down my skin. I knee him in the groin, and he buckles, groaning. Rage overtakes me, for taking Katniss from me. I repeatedly punch him in the stomach. He's not untrained though. Flipping over, he takes aim for an uppercut at my chin. I pull his arm with the force he gave, something I saw my father do before he died. The peacekeeper flies through the air, the, hits the Justice building, staining it red. He crumples, clearly out.

I stem the blood from my nose with my sleeve, and jog from the scene before someone finds me. My feet guide me home.

This is ridiculous. The Capitol is in power, but without the Districts, without their Games and nukes and death threats, they'd be weaker than the man I left in the alley. We provide them food, luxury, and entertainment. If we started a rebellion, we could bring it down.

But I can't start a rebellion without Katniss. And it's clear that no one else is going to. They've had seventy-four years to, and nothing. Maybe Katniss will take advantage of her spotlight, and try to start one. It's too much to hope that she'll do it, not worth building a life on.

I reach my house and duck behind it. In the dirty backyard, if you could even call it that, is a rusted hose. I turn it on. It squeaks horribly, gurgles, then spits out rust colored water. I let it run until the water is clear, then I methodically rinse my face.

The dirt becomes a soup as the darkly tainted water washes into the ground. My emotions go where the water does, into the ground, curdling. I am as stiff and emotionless as a wall

I turn the water off, and stand up, sparking clean and dripping. I shake like a dog as I walk around to the front door. I let myself in and go straight to my room. Well, it's not my room. I share it with Rory and Vick. I do have my own bed, though. Rory and Vick sleep together. Little Posy used to sleep with my mother after birth, but then after she turned one, and graduated out of my mother's bed into mine, she went back to her. I've never told anyone except Katniss this, but that really offended me.

I curl up in a ball on the rough canvas of the mattress and fall asleep.