Disclaimer: I'm just playing with Suzanne Collins' characters and her world. They're hers. Not mine. Any lines from the books are hers too.
AN: So I've basically decided to post all the chapters up to where I'm at for the moment. It'll leave the story hanging for a while, until I catch up, but the last chapter I have completed will be a good stopping point, at least for a bit. So once they get cleaned up a little more they'll get posted.
And as always, thanks to Nursekelly for all the help.
And the stars burn out, pt 4
Gale wakes to the soft patter of rain on the roof and the dull rumble of thunder rolling through the air.
Damn, he thinks groggily. Just his luck. Rain.
It doesn't really make the mines better or worse, but getting soaked is always an invitation for getting sick, and he literally cannot afford and illness.
Eyes still closed, he shifts, his arm doesn't though, pinned down by something solid and warm.
His first thought is that Posy woke with the storm and picked him to protect her over his mother. She's been missing him lately, with his long hours in the mines and on Madge's porch, so it wouldn't be a shock. When a pair of legs, much too long to be his baby sister's, shift next to his though, his eyes finally crack open.
Soft blonde hair fills his vision, and when he cuts his eyes down he finds Madge's soft expression, eye closed and cheek pressed to his chest, still silently sleeping.
It's the most relaxed he's seen her since she came back. There's no bubbling anxiety, no terrified anticipation, just ease etched on her face, and he'd put it there.
Something in his chest swells. He'd put her at ease. She's sleeping, comfortable, because of him.
Warmth, like the first time he'd caught something in his snare after his dad died, fills him. All his time on her porch hasn't been a waste. He's helping her, even if only just a little.
The clock on the mantle chimes four times, and Gale frowns to himself.
His mother is going to be a basket case. He's been out all night, and now there's a storm. Only worst case scenarios will be running through her head.
He starts to free himself from between Madge and the back of her couch, but when she presses herself a little more snugly against him, her hand gripping the front of his coal filthy shirt, and sighs against him, he can't make himself.
Shifting a little, he reaches up and brushes some hair from her face with his calloused fingers.
She's soft, almost impossibly so, and he wonders if she's always been that way of if the Capitol buffed her skin to that point.
The dim bit of light filtering in through the curtains from the security light settles over them, gloomy and gray, but Madge seems to glow in it, and somehow he knows that isn't one of the Capitol's tricks.
When she mutters something, Gale's eyes are pulled to her lips.
They look soft, moist and smooth, the complete opposite of his own, which are constantly chapped and cracked. He licks his lips, wondering what it would feel like with hers pressed to them.
Instantly, he shakes the thought from his head.
He hadn't come out to Madge's house to see what her lips feel like.
Still, he wants to know, someday, maybe.
Suddenly, Madge's eyes flutter open, settling on the dulled embroidery of his name.
He half expects her to scream. She's waking up pressed up against a man that shouldn't even be in her home after having a meltdown the evening before.
Instead she slowly raises her gaze, not quite to his eyes, focusing on his cheek. "'Morning."
Gale can't help himself. He grins. "'Morning."
Her cheeks begin glowing, a warm pink, and she shifts away from him. Gale feels the smile slip off his face as cool air replaces Madge's soft warmth as she gets up and straightens her crumpled skirt. She freezes when she spots the time on the clock.
"I'm sorry," she blurts out, looking devastated as she turns back to him. "I should've woke you up earlier."
Gale senses another fit coming on and quickly pushes himself up, despite his body's protest. Madge's couch is more comfortable than his bed has ever been and his body is clearly upset over losing more time on it.
In two strides he's in front of her, pulling her into a hug and smoothing down her hair. "Shhh, it's okay."
He feels her shake her head, but doesn't let go.
While he's trying to comfort her, he rolls her words over in his head.
She'd woken earlier and not pulled away. She'd stayed on the couch with him. It's more progress than he ever hoped to have made.
Finally, she pulls away, swatting at her face. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" He reaches out and quickly brushes the last few tears from her face. She stills at his touch, but he forces a smile and tries to keep her from freezing up. "Giving me a night on a comfortable couch?"
Her cheeks burn a little brighter and she keeps her eyes on the ground.
"I-You just shouldn't've had to stay." She rubs a hand over her eyes. "I'm a disaster."
She is, just a little, but after what she'd been through it would be a miracle for her not to be.
Gale shrugs.
A few seconds stretch out between them, filled with the splattering sound of the rain, with Madge's eyes tracing over Gale's name, studying it, eyebrows pulled together before she begins picking at her skirt absently. "I still feel bad."
Chuckling, Gale gestures to the coal dust he'd missed the night before still on her floor and the gray stains his clothes left on her couch. "I ruined your stuff, so I think we're even."
Even though he's pretty sure he got the better end of the deal.
She stares at the couch for a moment before her eyes float over to him, taking in his filthy appearance, chewing her lip.
"Do you want to take a shower?"
Gale stares at her, uncertain he's heard her right. When her color deepens to something resembling purple, he knows his hearing is still perfectly fine.
"I mean-I-you didn't get to go home and you have to get to work, right? And you can't go in dirty, and-"
Gale puts a hand on her shoulder, quieting her.
He doesn't point out that he's going to go home to check in with his mother, who's going to be worried sick, and that going into the mines clean is pointless. She's looking for a way to pay him back, even though he's already told her they're even, and he can appreciate that feeling. Only a few months before he'd have felt she owed him quite a bit for things outside her control, but now he owes her. Not for anything she's given him, but for how he'd treated her.
She's opening up to him and he doesn't want to destroy the progress he's made.
Even if he thinks it's a weird thing to offer up.
Giving her a small smile, he nods. "Sure. Shower sounds fine."
#######
Madge feels her face blaze, and she hopes the dark of the room hides her embarrassment.
It's one of the stupidest things she's ever done, offering Gale her shower, but in her panic it had seemed reasonable.
He's got to go to work, and he still looks like he's just left.
Nodding, a bit dazed that he's taking her up on the offer, Madge leads him out of the back living room and to the stairs, up, and to her room.
There are other showers in the guestrooms, but she isn't sure they have any toiletries. Honestly, she hasn't even investigated the other rooms of her house. The Capitol could have anything in them and Madge would never know.
She opens the bathroom door, quickly pulling a towel and washcloth from the little shelf before turning to Gale.
Her mouth goes dry.
He's already unbuttoned his shirt and untucked the dingy undershirt from his pants, exposing a patch of olive skin and dark hair. Clearly Gale has no problems with nakedness, and Madge wonders just how at ease he'd have been with her prep team twittering around him, smoothing and plucking and cleaning. They'd have loved him.
"Here," she mumbles, thrusting the towel at him and keeping her eyes on the tiles below his feet. "Just turn the handles and the water will come on."
With that she starts to leave before remembering his clothes.
Even if he's clean, his clothes are still a mess, and the rain will only make them worse.
She turns back to him, only to find he's already taken his shirt off and unbuttoned his pants.
Eyes dropping, she begins plucking at her skirt. "If you toss out your, uh, clothes, I can get them cleaned."
In the periphery of her vision, she sees him shake his head. "Don't have time for that."
Frowning at the ground, panic begins building in her chest. She has a washer and dryer, not that she's ever used them. Will he hate her for offering to use her expensive gifts on him? Will the new Gale, that seems so kind and eager to know her, vanish and be replaced with the hateful one that had tossed her good fortune at her before her Reaping?
Swallowing it down, she grimaces to herself. He's already accepted her offer of a shower. What's another small gesture?
"They gave me these machines," she begins lamely. "They clean clothes and dry them. It only takes a few minutes."
She doesn't mention she's only ever watched her mother use them.
He nods, slowly, weighing something in his head before holding out his shirts. "Okay."
Cheeks still burning, Madge quickly snatches his shirts from him before almost tripping over her own feet to get out of the bathroom and closing the door.
She takes several breaths, trying to slow her heart, clutching the dirty shirts to her chest, before she hears the door click and hears her name behind her.
Gale is peaking out from behind the cracked door, holding out the rest of his clothes.
Without a word, Madge grabs them and rushes off, the wadded up clothes tight against her chest.
She throws his clothes in the washer without looking and mimics her mother's movements, hitting several buttons, releasing detergent and setting the cycle, before collapsing back against the wall.
Her mind stops as she watches the clothes swish in the machine, Capitol magic zapping the coal dust and dirt from the clothes for a few minutes before the timer dings and the blue lights on the machine turn a fiery orange as it begins drying.
It all takes less than five minutes, cleaning and drying Gale's clothes, and Madge feels her stomach clench at the strange brevity of it. Gale's mother is a laundress, and Madge wonders if she'd hate her for owning something that could so easily put her out of business.
Madge should be using her new found wealth to help the people of her District. She should be out buying things and using their services, no hiding in her house.
But I'm a killer, she reminds herself.
Look how she treated Katniss. No one would want her business, and she wouldn't blame them. Besides, how many of them had bet against her during her Games? How many of them had written her off?
Does she owe any of them her generosity?
Shaking the thought away, it hurts her head and doesn't change anything, Madge gathers up Gale's clothes and heads back upstairs.
It isn't until she drops one of his socks that she realizes she probably has Gale Hawthorne's underpants gathered up in her arms.
She'd be the envy of all the girls at school.
The thought brings heat flooding her face again and a half snort of disbelief.
A year ago the thought would've been ridiculous, a few hours ago even, yet here she is.
Trying to push off the strange curiosity to drop the entire pile and see just who was right, Chesney or Pressly, about what kind of underwear Gale wears, Madge goes back into her room, freezing in the doorway.
The bathroom door is open, filling the entire bedroom with moist heat and the scent of her raspberry shampoo, and standing at her dresser, with nothing more than a white towel wrapped around his middle, is Gale.
He doesn't heard her come in because he stays turned, studying the pictures on her dresser.
Madge hadn't put them there. Her mother, in a flurry of tears and nostalgia, had brought out several photos and placed them in the delicate and intricate frames the Capitol had set around the house. Before that, there'd been strangers smiling out at Madge, apparently faded family photos by the looks of them.
She half wishes her mother had left the strangers. Madge had spent several hours each day giving the people in them names and lives. Happy endings like she'll never get.
Besides, their presence had made the absolute otherness of her life seem complete.
Gale picks up one of the smaller frames, one with a picture of Madge and her Poppa making candy in his shop before turning to her.
"You still remember how to make candy?"
Still frozen, Madge nods. Maybe he had heard her after all.
One hand on his hip, holding the towel in place, Gale stares at the picture for a second more before putting it down and sighing.
He points to his clothes, still trapped in Madge's arms, his eyebrows knitted together. "Done?"
Snapping out of her stupor, Madge nods and tries to look anywhere but at him as she holds out his clothes to him.
She catches a glimpse of what she thinks is a frown, as though he doesn't know that his being practically naked in front of her might put her ill at ease, as he takes the clothes and gives them a sniff.
"Hmm," he grunts.
Then, to Madge's horror, the towel starts to drop.
"Gale!" She shouts, covering her eyes.
For several long seconds Madge keeps her eyes clamped shut and her hand firmly over them, before opening them a fraction and peaking under her hand at Gale's bare feet.
He'd apparently caught the towel, though she notes it's probably much lower judging by how low it's hanging on his shins.
Heart hammering painfully against her chest, Madge focuses on the flecks of water still clinging to the hair on his legs and the scar across the top of his left foot, trying to calm herself.
"Sorry," she hears him mutter as he hitches the towel up a little before his feet start moving and he vanishes from her limited view and she hears the bathroom door click closed.
A minute passes before Madge lets her hand drop and she takes a deep breath.
She's still rooted in the spot when Gale reemerges, dressed in his freshly laundered uniform and his hair still damp and standing on end.
He looks scrubbed and clean, except for his jaw, cheeks, and chin, which are all still dark and coarse looking. He must not have wanted to use Madge's razor.
"Sorry," he says again, his hand on his neck. "I didn't know naked people bothered you."
Madge almost snaps that of course naked people bother her, it bothers most people, but holds it back
Nakedness was just another part of life for people in the Seam. There was so little privacy that it can't bother them, she supposes.
"Katniss has a problem with it too. Prim's mentioned it," he adds, in what must be an attempt to make her feel better.
If Katniss, who is as Seam as Gale, has a problem with naked people, then it isn't such a weird affliction, and for some reason that annoys Madge.
Still, she just keeps her eyes on the ground and nods.
The clock down stairs chimes the half hour and Gale sighs.
"I need to get going."
Madge nods, but he doesn't move.
Rough fingers suddenly brush the hair from her face, then tip her chin up.
He gives her a crooked smile. "I'll see you tonight, okay?"
Another frown pulls Madge's lips down. "Tonight?"
Gale nods. "Yeah. After dinner though. My mom is gonna be on me hard for this."
She had expected him to tell her he wouldn't be back, maybe ever again, after the disaster that had been the evening before. The possibility that he'd ever even bring her strawberries again had seemed like a distant possibility.
He's coming back though, later than he normally would, but he's coming back.
Nodding, Madge tries to force a smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace.
Giving her a reassuring smile, he steps past her.
Turning, Madge watches him go; only finding her voice when he reaches the stairs.
"'Bye."
Stopping, Gale smiles. "See you tonight, Madge."
#######
Gale breaks into a dead run the second he's in the cover of the trees after leaving Madge's house.
He's out of breath and damp from the endless drizzle by the time he reaches the meadow and by the time he jumps up onto his family's front porch hot sweat and cold rain have saturated his newly cleaned clothes.
Pushing the door open, he immediately has arms around his neck.
"Damn it, Gale," he hears his mom half sob. "Where have you been all night?"
Her hair is a mess, wild and tangled, and when she pulls back Gale can see even in the small bit of light the dying candle on the kitchen table provides that her eyes are pink and puffy from crying.
"I thought you'd been arrested," she tells him, wiping her eyes before glaring up at him. "Where have you been?"
Heat begins creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks. Even though it had all been perfectly innocent, up to and including his shower, telling his mom he'd spent the night with a girl is still more than a little uncomfortable.
"Madge was-she was upset and I stayed there with her. I slept on the couch."
Which is all true. He's simply leaving out the fact that Madge slept on the couch too.
Still looking madder than he's seen her in a while, his mother sniffles, then frowns.
"What's that smell?" She sniffs again, leaning closer to Gale. "Do you have on cologne?"
"No," he quickly defends himself, as his hand rakes through his hair, settling on his neck and tugging at the collar of his shirt. "I just cleaned up a little before I left."
Which is technically true.
Gale can see her sensing his half truth, and quickly pulls her into a hug and kisses her cheek, hoping she's too distracted by it and the poor lighting to notice his neatly cleaned uniform.
"I have to get to work. I just wanted to check in with you, let you know I'm not dead."
She gives him a wary look. "That's not funny, Gale."
Shrugging, he opens the door. "See you tonight."
Once he's out in the drizzling rain again, he quickens his steps to try to catch up with the other men who've already started the miserable journey to the mines.
It doesn't take him long to meet up with them. He pulls his cap low and stuffs his hands in his pockets as he searches the dreary group for Thom.
When he spots him, he jogs up behind him, knocking him in the shoulder.
"Oversleep?"
Gale nods.
Thom yawns, popping his neck. "I nearly did too. My dad's snoring didn't even keep me up."
They walk in silence, mentally preparing themselves for another numbing day in a dark hole, shuffling through the gates and yard, and then onto the elevators.
Pressing himself up against the metal of the elevator, Gale sighs.
Only an hour before he'd been curled up on a comfortable couch with a pretty girl. Now he was soggy and chilled and stuffed uncomfortably in a metal deathtrap with a bunch of smelly men.
Closing his eyes, he wonders if Madge will be able to get back to sleep.
She's looked so much less strained, so much more like the girl that had existed before she'd been Reaped, that Gale wonders if all she'd really needed was a good night's sleep.
He smiles to himself. He'd given her that. She'd been comfortable, felt safe even, with him around. It was more than he could've hoped for after all the time he'd spent on her porch trying to help her piece her mind back together after the Capitol had torn it apart.
Tonight, he thinks, he'll help her more. He'll protect her from whatever monsters live in her head.
Beside him, Thom sniffs.
"What's-" he frowns at Gale. "Do you have perfume on?"
Gale shoots him a filthy look.
"It's called personal hygiene. Maybe you should try it," he growls lowly, not wanting the other men to hear. He's already been the butt of too many jokes for being 'too pretty' to be in the mines; he doesn't need to add 'smells like a girl' to their list of things to annoy him with.
Thom's frown deepens, then he sniffs his own shirt. "Huh."
Crossing his arms, Gale glares at the floor.
He wishes the day were over already.
#######
Madge stays curled up in her bed until nearly noon, when her mother comes up and coxes her down for lunch.
"I made sandwiches and toffee, love."
Lazily, Madge picks at the sandwich, then nibbles on the toffee before sitting back in her chair and watching her mother go about her day, cleaning the already spotless house.
"You made quite a mess in the shower," she tells Madge when she comes down the stairs with a laundry basket against her hip. "The bath mat is filthy."
Face heating up, Madge sinks in the chair.
She'd forgotten to pick up after Gale left, not that there was much to clean up, just his towel, washcloth, and apparently the mat.
"I...went for a walk last night," she lies. "I was barefoot."
It's a stupid lie. Madge hasn't ventured any further than her porch since she came back.
Her mother stops and stares at her, and Madge gets the uncomfortable feeling that she knows she's being lied to.
After a few seconds though, she simply smiles. "That's nice."
When the sun starts to set, anxiety begins to creep back into Madge's chest.
Her mother normally leaves well before dark. She's not afraid of it, but it simply isn't safe for her to be roaming about by herself at night.
Tonight though, she lingers.
"Momma, it's getting dark," Madge tells her, glancing out at her increasingly dim backyard and expecting Gale to materialize on her porch.
He might change his mind and not come. She'd been so much trouble to him that Madge wouldn't blame him if he didn't.
Still, she hopes he does, though with each passing second that seems less and less likely.
He's a strange sort of consistency for her. Reliable and comforting, and she isn't sure she'll be able to get any rest if he doesn't come out.
Oblivious to Madge's distress, her mother simply continues to hum and float around the room.
"I'm just putting your dinner away, love," she tells her airily as she wraps up a sandwich and carefully places it in the icebox. "I made extra."
It's a waste of food in Madge's mind. She rarely even eats half of what her mother fixes, which are barely meals for one. Mr. Abernathy usually ends up polishing off anything that stays in her icebox for too long. Still, her mother had been so proud, working all afternoon to make pitchers of tea, lemonade, and a gallon of ice cream with the last of Gale's strawberries in it before making the unnecessary sandwiches that Madge can't say anything to her.
Finally, Mr. Abernathy shuffles in, waking from a nap in one of the overstuffed chairs in the back living room.
"What are you still doing here, 'Tilda?" He frowns, blinking to clear his vision. "It's dark out, sweetheart."
"I was keeping Madge company," she explain. "And making her extra food."
Madge hears him grumble something about 'damn fool woman' before he goes around the kitchen island and wraps an arm around her shoulder, steering her toward the door.
"Tell Madge 'bye. I'm walking you home," he tells her.
"'Bye, love," her mother half sighs as she gives Madge a hug and kisses her cheek.
"I'll see you tomorrow," Madge tells her with a forced smile.
Mr. Abernathy leans in and kisses Madge's forehead. "I'll get her home. See you in the morning."
With that and a few seconds more of her mother fussing around in the entry, they're gone.
Frowning around her, at the spotless floor and pitcher of lemonade sitting on the counter, Madge sighs.
Gale isn't coming.
Fighting back tears, Madge crosses her arms over her middle and heads upstairs to change for bed.
Not that she'll get any sleep.
#######
Gale is half out of his hiding spot in the tree line when he hears voices.
Ducking back into the bushes, Gale squints up past the house and sees Madge's mother and Abernathy walking along the gravel road.
Why her mother had stayed so late, Gale isn't certain, but he's glad he hadn't come up earlier. He'd have run right into her if he had.
On his old schedule, he'd already be on Madge's back porch.
His mom is still furious with him over being out all night, and Rory is being a bigger pest than usual, teasing Gale about toastings and the slag heap, so he'd stayed home until after she and all the kids had gone to sleep.
It's later than he'd thought it'd be, but clearly that may be for the best.
Besides not running into her mother and Abernathy, he has more time to spend with her coming late. He isn't on a timetable to get home and eat dinner.
Now he has all the hours until he has to go to work, time he plans to use to take care of Madge.
Abernathy is talking, speaking in surprisingly soft tones, to Madge's mother, his arm around her shoulder.
They stop, and he isn't sure, but he thinks he sees Mrs. Undersee look his way and smile before she leans into Abernathy and gently pushes him onward.
Once they're safely away, disappearing down the road toward Town, Gale steps out from his hiding spot and jogs up to the porch.
The lights are still on in the kitchen, but Madge has gone.
Gently, Gale knocks.
Several minutes tick by, and right before Gale decides to knock again, she appears in the doorway.
She's already in her nightgown, hair combed and face scrubbed, and Gale's stomach does an odd flip-flop.
Raising his hand, Gale taps on the window.
Madge's eyes widen, brighten with tears, and Gale worries he's upset her by showing up so late.
Then she lights, mouth turning up in a relieved sort of smile as she runs to the door and quickly unlocks it, flinging it open.
For a second she hesitates, eyes flickering first to his clothes and then to his face. "I thought you weren't coming."
Gale can't help but grin. "I told you I'd be back."
#######
Madge pulls Gale in, throwing her arms around his middle and sighing.
He'd come, just like he said he would.
After a few seconds, she realizes she's still holding him and slowly releases her arms and backs away, her face blazing.
A few seconds tick quietly by, and Madge becomes acutely aware of the fact that she's in her nightgown. It's summer weight, thin and airy, and she feels heat rising on her skin in more embarrassment.
Gale's eyes drop from her face for half a breath before darting away, when he notices, off to the drooping flowers on her kitchen table.
Eyes on the ground, she quickly glances around for something to distract him from that fact that she's not even got on a house coat. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?"
Before he can answer, Madge is off to the icebox, pulling out the extra food her mother had just put away.
She quickly sets out the sandwiches, the little bowl of banana pudding, then grabs the tin with toffee and opens it, giving Gale a weak smile. "My mom made extra."
He nods. "I see that."
Dropping onto the stool, Gale crosses his arms on the counter and smiles as he picks up one of the sandwiches. "So...how was your day?"
#######
Madge had offered to play him a song on the piano and he'd nodded off on the couch. His body was worn out from a day in the mines and then apologizing to his mom, and Madge's music was hypnotic.
Secretly, he'd always liked taking strawberries to the Mayor's house and hearing her playing through the door and window, though he'd never have admitted it.
Having her play for him, a soft, sweet lullaby, while sitting on her too comfy couch in her air conditioned house, practically rocked him to sleep.
He wakes several hours later to whimpers.
Sitting up from where he'd slumped over, Gale squints into the unfamiliar dark.
There are odd outlines, more furniture than occupied his entire house, and it takes several seconds for his eyes to adjust.
Madge had apparently fallen asleep in one of the chairs nearest him. Curled in a ball, she shakes and makes wounded little noises in her sleep.
Glancing at the mantle, Gale makes out that it's nearly one.
He should leave. He'll have another morning like yesterday if he doesn't.
Looking back down at Madge, crying in her sleep, fighting phantoms, he knows he isn't going anywhere.
Scooping her up, he carries her to the couch and settles down, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss into her hair.
"It's alright," he whispers. "I got you."
#######
Madge wakes wrapped around Gale again, her nose pressed into his dingy shirt and her back pinned against the couch.
She doesn't know how she ended up on the couch with him, but she doesn't care. He's solid and safe, two things she's needed desperately since coming back from her Games.
It's still cool and dark, so she hopes that means there are still a few hours before he'll have to get up. He'd cleaned up and changed before he came, so there'll be no showering. The strange disappointment that curls in her stomach at that brings a blush to her cheeks and she quickly distracts herself by absently counting the prickly whiskers already growing back on his neck.
Minutes slip by, and when the clock chimes five times, Gale groans, his hands tightening, pressing Madge closer, before he arches back in a stretch.
Bleary eyed, he looks over his shoulder to the mantle. "That time already?"
Madge doesn't say anything, just studies his tired expression sadly.
He shouldn't have come out again, and he definitely shouldn't have stayed again. No matter how much a comfort he is to her, this is her decision to bear, not his.
She tries to tell him just that, but her voice catches in her throat, refusing to let her send the only person that's brought her a moment of ease away.
Gale sits up, runs his hands through his hair, putting it on end, before looking back down at her. "I gotta go."
Madge nods but doesn't move. She's frozen on the couch, surrounded by the lingering heat from his body and the scent from his skin.
"I'll see you tonight."
Her mind comes out of its stupor at his words, her conscience prodding her into speaking.
"Don't come," she whispers.
Gale's thick eyebrows pull together and she can make out the scowl on his face. "Why not?"
Tears start to prickle at her eyes and she rolls, burying her face in the stiff, decorative pillow that now smells of Gale's hair.
"It isn't fair," she mumbles.
When he doesn't say anything, she turns her head and peaks up at him.
He's frowning down at her, though the scowl is gone. It's somewhere between exasperated and annoyed. Then he sighs.
"What's not fair?" He finally asks.
Biting her lip, Madge rolls to her back and gazes up at him, forcing down the tears fighting to pour out.
"I'm exhausting-"
"No you ar-"
"I am," she cuts him off, swatting at her eyes. "I've already worn Mr. Abernathy out and I don't want to do the same to you."
A few minutes tick by in silence with Gale turning her words and fears over in his head.
He's going to leave. She's going to be alone again, trapped in endless days and nights without rest, dragging Mr. Abernathy into her hell. That's for the best though. Gale deserves better than this.
Finally, Gale sighs, running a hand over his face before looking back down at her.
"I spend twelve hours a day in a dark hole, doing a pointless job, then go home and don't have enough to eat and have to listen to my family's stomachs gnawing themselves raw while they sleep." He reaches out and brushes a strand of hair from her cheek. "That exhausts me. Not you. Not being here."
She thinks it's a lie, she's almost positive it is, but she wants to believe it so badly. Somehow their evenings on the porch had become her lifeline, and now his presence is something she isn't sure she can survive without.
She isn't strong, she never was, and she's come to need him more than she needs almost anything else.
Voice failing again, she nods, and he reaches out again and wipes a wayward tear from her cheek.
The couch shifts as he stands, and when he's halfway to the doorway Madge gets up and follows him into the hall and then to the kitchen.
"Do you need lunch?" She asks, already at the icebox, pulling out another of the sandwiches and holding it out to him.
When he doesn't take it, Madge takes another step forward and takes his hand, pressing it to his palm.
"Please, Gale, I already took your sleep, I don't want you to go hungry at work because of me too."
He rolls his eyes.
"Your couch is better than my bed'll ever be." He takes the sandwich and drops it in his bag. "But if it makes you happy, I'll take the food."
Turning his head, he pops his neck again before stepping toward the door.
"I'll see you tonight," he tells her again.
Madge nods, her eyes studying the mud splattered pattern on his boots. She can't look at him. She's going to ruin him, just like she ruins everything.
Large, calloused fingers reach out and tip her chin up, forcing her to look at him. "Okay?"
Forcing a smile, Madge nods again. "Okay."
For a second his eyes linger on her face, and for half a heartbeat she thinks he might kiss her. For twice that long she wants him to.
It's an awful idea though. He's already doing too much, coming out and seeing her, keeping her company these past few nights...Gale needs to keep his kisses for someone that deserves them. Someone who isn't on the razor edge of insanity.
When the clock chimes the half hour, the tension seems to snap, shaking them both out of their trance.
"Tonight," he says one last time before opening the back door.
"Tonight," Madge repeats.
#######
Once he's hidden in the dark of the tree line, Gale pulls his uniform shirt out from his bag and quietly changes.
His mom will hopefully think he'd just left early for the mines. He'd tossed his blankets around before sneaking out, moved things around on the floor and left a pair of socks half under his bed, just like he normally would. She's sharp though, and Gale has the unfortunate suspicion she'd done her fair share of sneaking out in the middle of the night when she'd been young. If he has any luck, he'll have inherited her stealth with that.
Trotting along, he eventually spots the men listlessly ambling toward the mine, just like the day before, and the day before that. With his head down, he quickly joins them.
Shifting his bag, he reaches in and moves the contents, his hand wrapping around the plastic wrapped sandwich, and he smiles.
She's getting better, slowly, but it's happening, and in whatever small way, he's helping her.
He'll be back at her house again tonight and for every night for the rest of their lives if that's what it takes.
Just like he'd promised himself he'd save his family after his dad was killed, he promises himself he's going to save her.
The Capitol isn't going to win the battle for Madge. He won't let them.
#######
When her mother shows up later in the morning, she makes an idle comment about how hungry Madge must've been the night before.
"You ate three sandwiches."
"Yeah," Madge mutters. "Just got hungry."
With a small smile, her mother begins flittering around again, picking up and gathering nonexistent messes, humming to herself.
Sighing, Madge gets up and goes to the back room and drops down at the piano. She needs to practice, as Mr. Abernathy seems so keen to remind her, so now is as good a time as any. If nothing else it'll keep her from having to make idle chatter with her mother.
She starts to play another nocturne, her mother likes those best, but when her fingers touch the keys and begin play, it doesn't sit right with her.
Frowning, she stops and stares at the keys.
Years before, her father had encouraged her to try to replicate some of the music she'd heard on the television.
"But none of it's for piano," she'd complained.
"Sometimes it helps to create things from ear, Magdalene," he'd told her with a smile. "Not everything in life is written out like sheet music."
So instead of practicing the dull things her teacher had given her, Madge had slowly worked out several songs, carefully listening to notes and tones to piece them together to play.
Smiling to herself, Madge lets her fingers start to slowly tap out one of her favorites.
Closing her eyes, she feels little again. Small and safe, sitting in her family's living room, waiting for her father to come home, Mrs. Oberst grumbling around, and her mother sitting up in the chaise, smiling at the happy tune.
When the song ends though, she opens her eyes. She's still in her tomb.
"That was nice, sweetheart," she hears Mr. Abernathy say from somewhere behind her.
She hears his boots coming toward her, then the seat groans a little as he drops down beside her.
"I knew there was a happy song in there."
Despite the disappointment that her daydream had only been just that, Madge smiles.
"Yeah, guess there was."