Strawberry Pie

"What now, Haymitch?" she asked as soon as he closed her front door. Their abrupt departure from the Hawthornes' clued her in to the real reason in that exit. She'd been bracing herself throughout the walk to her house. She knew it wasn't going to be good.

"I told you to stop this, princess," he said, serious and sober.

"If it were that easy, I would've done it already!" she said, "and besides, if we're going to get married, wouldn't it be convenient to be in love with the person I'm marrying?"

"Take my advice, princess, it'll save you from all the pain," he insisted, "You had a good start with not inviting your parents to live with you! Don't botch this up with that damn feelings of yours!"

"But I did invite them, Haymitch," she said, quietly, looking away, ashamed of the fact and that, "They declined that invitation."

"It's easier that way," Haymitch said, softly, "Don't let them get too close, feelings will be your downfall."

"Easier for who? I don't get it, we're not in the games anymore!" she cried, frustrated at his insistence. Especially when she can't even imagine her feelings vanishing anytime soon.

"And you barely survived that one!" he said harshly, "You don't even have enough sponsors before he teamed up with you! Stop being dependent on the boy! Trust me, princess, it's better in the long run!

"It might seems like the curtain falls on that episode of your life, but know this, you'll always be in the games, princess," he laughed dryly, "We're just in a different arena." He turned to leave. Haymitch would never understand, he'd chosen his drink and she wanted to choose her own. With or without the pain.

"I just don't want to be alone," she said, softly, feeling like a little girl once more.

Haymitch stopped on his track and without looking back he said, "We all don't want to be alone, Madge. But if you want to survive this, you have to be."

She was still alive. That's all should matter. Right?

And it did.

Until Haymitch pointed out the very thing her mind has been denying. That she's been nothing but a parasite.

He's right, she was lucky, the romance angle was ingenious but not her idea. It was her mentor's and Gale's, the only thing she did was to not get killed until they announced that two can go home. Why he agreed to such thing? She'll never know but she was grateful enough not to push him for answers.

Like she was grateful that he came home last night. For her sanity.

She didn't sleep, she was up painting her nightmares. And when the first ray of sunrise filled her studio, she put down the brush, cleaned herself and went into the kitchen to bake their daily supply of bread.

She saw Haymitch as she made her way to the Hawthorne's. He was shaking his head and she held her head high, in defiance. It was her pain, her heart on the line, and it should be her choice.

If it made her weak, so be it.

Hazelle opened the door before she could knock and ushered her in.

"Have you eaten breakfast?" she asked, Madge nodded even though she hadn't. The lie must've showed because Hazelle raise an eyebrow, shook her head, took the bread and grabbed Madge's arm and pulled her into the kitchen.

She made her sit and started placing food in front of her.

"We already ate," she said as she placed a glass of milk on the table, "And you seemed running late today."

"Oh, um, lost track of time," she said, blushing at her predictability, "I was painting."

Gale's mother sliced the bread she brought and served her a couple of pieces. She didn't realised how hungry she was until she started devouring everything Hazelle prepared.

"Where are the kids?" she asked, after finishing her milk.

"I don't exactly know," the older woman said, putting her hands up in surrender, "It's sometimes hard to keep track of them, I'm sure they're playing somewhere in the house."

Madge smiled, she always wanted siblings but her mom was too fragile to have more kids.

"But," Hazelle continued, "For the first time in forever, I know where my eldest is."

"Is his foot doing okay?"

"The foot's going to be fine but the owner's getting difficult," she sighed, then looked at her expectantly, "Why don't you go and accompany him for a while?"

Madge didn't know how it happened but she was standing in front of Gale's room after his mother dragged her from the kitchen. Then the older woman left. Madge closed her eyes, lifted her hand, and knocked.

No one answered.

She reached for the door knob and slowly opened the door.

Gale was lying in his bed, his foot perched up on a pillow, his arms covering his eyes. Was he asleep? She figured he was and turned to leave.

"Mom said you're not allowed in here," he suddenly said. She looked back at him and saw that his arm was still on his eyes. She smiled and replied, "Your mom was the one who dumped me here."

She saw him lift his arm and looked at her, surprised.

"What are you doing here?"

"Hazelle thought you could use a company," she said, "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine," he said, gesturing at the injured foot.

"How about you?" she said, walking closer to the bed.

"Bored," he frowned when he saw her face as she stopped right beside his bed, "Have you slept at all?"

Looking away she said, "Just had an early start this morning."

She surveyed the room, it's the complete opposite of her feminine room and was smaller. The houses in the Victor Village have the same layout, so in her house, this room was the studio. Gale must've given up the master bedroom. The room was painted blue and there wasn't much in there aside from a dresser, a bed, a chair, and side tables. Unlike hers, which was full of trinkets she had collected since childhood and laces. Cinna decided she's a lace girl.

"Didn't Portia help decorate the house?" she asked, looking at everything but him.

He didn't reply.

Madge finally turned to him and saw him staring at her. He then scoot a little and patted the space beside him. But she just stared.

"Come on," he insisted, "I could use a nap, too."

"I'm not sleeping here!" she protested, "What if your mom walked in? Or your siblings!?"

Gale just shrugged and said, "My brothers and sister know not to go in here and also, my mom knew."

"Knew what?"

"That I'm sneaking out in the middle of the night to be with you."

She remembered those nights, when they at least found a bit of peace in sleep. With arms around each other. It seemed like forever since the last day she woke up and the first thing she sees was his face. It's like their little secret, that everybody knows, apparently.

Madge recalled Hazelle's knowing look everytime she delivered bread.

"Come on," he said, again, but she was just staring at him, mortified. He sighed, "I also set her straight about the arrangement so quit that blushing and get on the bed."

It was because she was tired that she finally did, without another word. Not because she gave in to the longing feeling in her chest. Not because she didn't want Haymitch to tell her how she supposed to feel. Not because she's afraid it would be the last time. Not because he was here and not with Katniss.

No, it was because she was tired.

She slipped beside him, his arms drew her closer and she rested her head on his chest. Just like those nights in the train and at her house. Some pulling, scooting, and then they found their usual position.

She felt his lips on her forehead and he whispered, "Get some rest, I won't let any hurt you."

Madge just nodded, she wanted to tell him, 'You might,' but didn't afraid that talking might lead to even more heartache.

So she closed her eyes.

And for the first time in weeks, she had a dreamless sleep.

Gale had told them what happened in the woods. It was almost unbelievable that District 13 might not be destroyed at all. That they were bidding their time to launch another rebellion. But another unbelievable thing was that they showed him a bread with her mockingjay on it.

"They told me it means that they're on our side," he said, Haymitch took a swig from his flask as she reached for her pin that she wore as a necklace now and think of the original owner.

"A rebellion?" she whispered.

"It's a bunch of bullshit," Haymitch said, "You should put your energy into the wedding, not some conspiracy theory."

The wedding.

It was conflicting, their former mentor was so focus on getting them hitch while so insistent on Madge killing her feelings for her fiancé. It's as if he knew something they don't.

After that conversation, he stayed away. Spending his time drowning his nightmares with alcohol.

While Madge, still determined to hold on to her feelings, spent most of her days with the Hawthornes. But her nights still brought the fear and the tears. She decided she can't handle being close to someone who was so far away at the same time.

Gale found something to do to kill time, a project of sorts. One day, he showed her his father's plant book and asked for her help in writing more information.

She drew the plants. He wrote the information.

There were quite a few times she could've sworn she caught him staring at her. But at the end she always put the blame on her active and hopeful imagination.

"I just realized," she said, after they finished the book, "This is the first normal thing we did together."

"Yeah, it is," he replied, smiling at her. A smile she hasn't seen before, it reached his eyes making him even more attractive. And it was for her. Madge blushed and busied herself in putting away her drawing materials.

"I'm going to my father's bakery," she said, casually, trying to calm her nerves, "Do you want me to get something for you in Town?"

"Maybe that pie?" he said, he seemed to be in a better mood, now that his foot was healed, "I didn't get to taste it, my brothers wolfed it down before I managed to sit for dinner."

"Sure," she grinned, no one can resist her father's strawberry pie.

"Take care, okay?" he sounded so serious and concerned that another wave of warmth washed over her.

"I will," she promised.

The familiar scent greeted her. It took her back to her childhood, when everything seemed normal.

She visited her parents every other day, keeping the pretence that they wanted her around. They didn't, not anymore, her mother was too fragile and she reminded her of that piece of her heart that had been ripped by the very game Madge survived from. They might still love her but loving her hurts. Madge can't blame them though for she knew exactly how that felt.

"Hey princess," her father greeted her, weakly. He was placing freshly baked pies on the rack. There's still smoke coming from them.

"I think I'll have one of those," she said, inhaling the yummy scent, "Make that two," she amended remembering Gale's request then thought of Haymitch, "No, make that three!"

"Three pies? With the wedding and all, shouldn't you watch your weight?" he said, chuckling.

"It's for the neighbours," she told him, grinning. She watched him wrapped her orders and when he finished, she reached for her pocket and pulled out money for the pastries.

"No need for that!" her father said, shaking his head, "Those fancy ovens are enough, princess."

She hesitated but put the money back to her pocket. It felt like they didn't want anything to do with her at all. Almost everything she offered was being declined, simply because they've come from her. The ovens, they barely accepted.

Madge reached for the boxes of pie and quietly said, "Would it be better if I didn't come home at all?"

"Princess…," her father said, sadly.

She interrupted him, not wanting to hear another appeasing speech, "I wanted to live and survive the games so I could come home to my family, I just didn't expect to come back here and realize that I'm not welcome anymore."

"It's for the best, Madge," he said, "You mother, she's a wreck, after all that happened, she needed this."

"I'm a wreck, too, father," she said, her chest aching, "I was the one who experienced the games, I needed both of you, still do and you washed you hands of me." She didn't intend to blurt every hurt she felt towards her parents but every rejection is like a blow to her heart and it was all she could take.

"Madge!" her father cried, she had bolted out of the bakery. She didn't want him to see her tears.

'Maybe Haymitch was right,' she thought, 'Maybe being emotionally dead isn't so bad.'

No, a part of her protested, it was what has been keeping her feel alive, remember. It was a waste to throw that away. She didn't want the Capitol to completely control even her feelings.

If she killed those feelings then the fear will rule.

She realized she was walking passed the Justice Building. She had absently been walking to the Victors' Village, when someone called her name.

It wasn't her father.

It was Peeta Mellark, grinning ear to ear, and the first thought that crossed her mind was 'Would he be willing to listen?'

And listen, he did.

It was a long walk to her house. She poured everything out and Peeta just listened. He was a good listener. When they reached her house, it was almost dark.

"Thank you," she said, as they stopped in front of her new home.

"You're welcome," he said, smiling, "And be strong, Madge."

"I will," she returned the smile.

"And if you need someone to listen again, you know where I live," he said, "Trust me, I have lots of free time too."

"And if you're not home, I know where you'll be," she teased, liking how normal the conversation was with him.

"Yeah," he said, blushing, rubbing the back of her neck, "Um, remember that day at the Seam? When we bumped to each other?"

"Yes," she said, intrigued and curious as to why he suddenly brought that up.

"She's not with Gale."

"I know," Madge said, "He told me."

"Oh," Peeta was taken aback, "Good."

"Why did you bring that up?"

"Um, it's because, I know–," Peeta was interrupted by someone calling her name. Again.

This time, it was Gale.

They turned to look at the approaching Victor, a box in hand.

"Where were you?" he said, as he walked towards them. Madge met him halfway, Peeta following her.

"I was in town," she said, "I told you, remember?"

"Your father dropped by to give the pies you left in the bakery," said Gale and then smiled sheepishly, "He said you told him the other two boxes were for your neighbours, so if that's not true, then I owe you two pies."

Her father. Suddenly, she felt guilty of her outburst.

"Did you give one to Haymitch?" she asked, diverting her thoughts to a more manageable subject.

"Huh, I thought one's for me and the other's for the family?" he said, eyes full of mischief.

She just shook her head at his antics.

"Can't blame him, Madge, your father's pie is the bomb," said Peeta, "I was going to buy this afternoon but you hijacked me."

Gale and Madge both looked at him, as if just realising they weren't alone.

"Oh, then you can have mine," she took the box off Gale's hand and gave it to Peeta. He protested but she strongly insisted and he end up with the pie.

"Thanks," he said, "I should probably go. Remember next time you can come to me."

"Yeah," she smiled, "Next time."

And he left.

"An all around knight, isn't he?"

Madge looked at Gale, he was glaring at Peeta's retreating figure.

Was he jealous? Then her insecurities re-emerged.

He was still bitter about Peeta giving Katniss the thing that eased her pain. Something Gale was not able to do.

"Good night, Madge," Gale said and walked back to his house.

Leaving Madge on the verge of tears. Again.

That night she sat in front of her television, hoping to catch a glimpse of the bird Gale was talking about, when the programming was interrupted.

It was an announcement about the upcoming Quarter Quell. Every twenty five years, they hold special Hunger Games. On a Quell year, a card was read. It was written after the signing of the treaty that allowed the horrible game. It dictates how the selection and the games would play out.

The 25th game was composed of children chosen by the district's citizens.

The 50th doubled the tributes.

The 75th?

It was just announced.

She heard glass breaking. She looked out and saw Gale entering an empty house, crashing sounds was heard.

Haymitch was probably comforting himself with a bottle now, trying to forget. She understood, he won the second Quarter Quell. The game that tore her mother apart.

Then there's Gale, smashing everything in sight. Her heart aches for him, there's a chance he would go back. She heard little Posy crying. She wanted to go over there to comfort them.

However, she can't. Not when she needed comforting, too.

She will be going back.

There's a quiet acceptance in her heart. She will not be coming home again, she was sure of that.

AN: Okay, this took forever to write. Really sorry for the delay. I'm back at school for that second degree so I was kinda busy adjusting and all. Anyway, I'm planning on posting an outtake to answer 'where the heck is Katniss' if you're interested in that, tell me.

Thanks for reading. Review?