VIII. District 12
There is one thing that the teacher in geography class used to say. Mr. Lofler was his name and Gale remembers the way everybody laughed at his weird, thick glasses, and made fun of him behind his back. Mr. Lofler had been a Capitol loyalist - presumably. In hindsight that seems clear, but when Gale was younger it was just the way that every teacher at school talked like, and it was normal. Mr. Lofler went on and on about how proud they should all be to come from a District like Twelve, where such an important industry was providing the Capitol with the resources it needed to flourish. That, if any of them were to be reaped, they should stand tall and be thankful to have been born in District 12.
"Home, dear children," Mr. Lofler said, in his pompous, theatrical manner, "Home is where the heart is. Never forget that."
It was the most ridiculous thing as no one ever left District 12. They were prisoners here. The only way to get out was being send to die in the Capitol. They would never know any other places so Twelve would always be home, no matter where the heart, or whatever that meant, was. Even Mr. Lofler had not left the District. All the teachers were taught by the headmaster. Who himself got all the material to teach from the Capitol. It was all ridiculous. Back then it did seem normal and while they all laughed at the weird teacher, they still respected him and believed his words to be true. Only in the eyes of his parents did Gale sometimes see another truth, when he told them about his day at school. They knew better to talk in front of their children about politics or the Capitol, but he remembers the strange looks and weird tension whenever the topic came up.
When the train slows down and Gale looks out into the greyness of the woods, sees the ruins of the destroyed mining facility pass him by, the hill in the Seam, the remains of the fence, and slowly the first houses of the place he had been born in, somehow the words of Mr. Lofler come back to him.
No matter how much change District 12 has seen in the last three years, it is the place where Gale Hawthorne grew up.
The woods, the Seam, the mines, the slag heap, town, the Victor's Village. All of this is Twelve. And against his will his eyes get misty. He hasn't been here for years. Still a soothing feeling overcomes him. Within the changes, it still remains familiar.
It's a misty morning and there is a slight sizzling of microscopical drops of rain in the air, when the train drives into the station. Twelve is the last stop. New tracks are to go as far as District 13, but these plans were only made recently so it will take some years to drill tunnels, axe down the fauna, in short kill all the nature for this big endeavour. District 13 is so far away, that Hovercrafts are the preferred form of transportation. Since the rebellion, though, many more people travel between the Districts as now they are free to do so. Modern trains are being built and new tracks are being led. Gale takes his bag, packed hours before the train pulled in the station, climbs out of the train into the rainy world of his former home.
The platform and the station are new. It smells of timber and paint, in this new District Twelve and Gale can count himself lucky that he is one of the taller people in the thick of newcomers who keep buzzing around, greeting and meeting the locals. There is an area with lockboxes at the end of the platform, and while Gale booked himself a room in the station hotel, he'd rather get his meeting with Katniss out of the way before he makes himself at home here. Putting his bag inside he is fumbling with the key when the pressure of a hand on his shoulder makes him startle around.
Katniss stands in front of him. She's smaller than he remembers. Smaller, paler, but also much more woman than girl. Her eyes are shimmering, like the silver of a fish in their lake in summer. Her hair is braided and she wears her father's hunting jacket, her bow and a quiver filled with arrows on her back.
She's simply - beautiful.
Warmth floods every fibre of Gale's being. Katniss mouth twitches, her eyes are damp. Might be because of the moisture in the air.
"Catnip," he whispers, reaching out, wanting contact so badly, wanting to feel her, touch her. And Katniss, seems to have a fight with herself, fighting to stay cool, calm, collected or whatever she must feel now. She doesn't succeed and a small sob leaves her, makes her bite on her lip, like she committed a crime.
"Gale," she whispers back, all trembling, reaches out and then, like a quick squirrel, she is suddenly in his arms, pressing herself closer, mumbling "You came" into his arms.
"Yeah," he says, swallowing hard, beyond moved that she initiated contact, hugging her back gently, cautiously, almost limp without pressure.
"Sorry," he says against his will. "I'm so sorry."
He didn't want to say that. Didn't want this to be the first thing that comes out of his mouth but it does, and now he can't change it. After a while Katniss lets go and looks up at him, searching for something in his eyes, something he seemingly cannot give so she shakes her head and takes a step back.
"Let's go hunting," she says, simply, like the last few years didn't happen, and he nods, following her lead out of the station down the road and over the tracks, through the pillars of the fence and into their woods.
They are silent, don't say a word for minutes, hours. She guides him to snares, hands him a knife and then they hunt. It's spring, the woods brimming with life and energy. Despite the mist they meet an abundance of animals and Katniss shoots a pheasant which Gale finds in a clearing minutes later. He shouts for her, the first word he said in a while, her name, and starts to pluck the pheasant before she comes running. This clearing, he remembers this one. He passed it shortly before his whipping, after he had that fight with Peeta. Groaning to himself he continues to pluck, the manual work reminding him of a simpler life.
The ground is wet but Katniss pays that no mind as she gracefully sits down on the mossy floor next to him.
"What do you think?" she says, in that sweet melodic way he missed so dearly, "About the District?"
"Looks good to me. At least I think so, I mean I haven't seen much more than the station and a few new houses. From the train it almost looked like mines are still there."
"Yeah," Katniss answers, "They are thinking of filling the old mine shafts and tunnels with earth and concrete. Closing the whole area. Making sure that our fathers never come out again."
He looks up at her, shocked. Their fathers? Katniss is not looking at him, but slowly turns her head in his direction. "They contemplate flooring the slag heap, would you believe it?"
"Ah...is that so?" he mumbles, turning his attention back to the pheasant.
The slag heap. What does Katniss really know about that place? What happened there, night after night...and what happened there that one night in winter, after the 74th Hunger Games.
"I'm thinking of my father a lot these days. Crazy, considering what happened to all of us after he died. When I listen to all that talk of reconstruction, these thoughts hit me like a jackhammer. What would my father think, what would my father say if he were alive today? I don't know. But when I think back to these days and...well, you and me Gale, we were so similar. You became a father to a family of five. I only had to look after two. I guess, what I'm trying to say is...is that while I never felt that extreme hate you did, I understand it. I understand, that everyone grieves in different ways and that your actions, were born out of desperation rather than just hate. You never had any guidance, only thought of survival. Now that I'm older, I understand."
Gale gapes at Katniss who looks at him now, eyes shimmering. Her tone isn't as cold as it was a few weeks ago, when she first called. It's not warm either.
"You were young," she continues, "We all were. Too young to understand. Still. I think that deep in my heart, no matter what, I will always hate you...a bit... for what happened. I know rationally, that it's not your fault in the way that you went out there and murdered her with your own hands. But you played a part, and that can never be undone."
"No," Gale says, trembling, the pheasant sliding on the floor beneath him, while he tries to hold in the sobs. "Catnip.."
"To be honest, I'm confused. When I first saw you this morning, I thought I might felt like I wanted to turn around again. Or hit you. Or scream at you. I don't know. But when I saw you standing there, I felt something I didn't expect. And I'm still feeling that now. I'm happy. To have you back. I missed you. Maybe it's nostalgia. Maybe it's the old you that I craved for. Or maybe it is just you. Gale Hawthorne. I don't know."
Katniss averts her eyes and he can't look at her either. Both of them look wistfully at the treeline bordering the clearing.
"I haven't felt this way in a long time, Gale. Happy, carefree, like I belong. With you this feeling is suddenly there, and it confuses me. Because...this isn't the reason why I called you here. I didn't expect this."
"Oh," he mumbles. He is happy that she is happy. He can feel it too. They are a good team. Always have been. It's so easy with her.
"What do you think?" she repeats her question from earlier, and then clears her throat. "What do you think about owing?"
"Owing?" he repeats. "Like a debt?"
"Yeah," she agrees, "But not money. Do you believe that you might...how can I say this, I mean do you owe me something?"
He doesn't know how to answer that, so he just shrugs. Where is she going with this?
"Because I think so. I believe you owe me. I wanted you to come here, because I need something from you. A favor, if you like. Of course, you're free to say no. But you should think deep about this and if you want to help...it's something that only you can do."
That sounds like blackmail to Gale. He is too afraid to tell her what he thinks. He is free to say no, she said so. And why does he owe Katniss? Because of Prim? Or is there another reason?
"What is it?" he presses out. "Just say it."
Katniss is still staring ahead, exhales in and out, deeply, slowly.
"Calling you was tough. Was it the right decision? Is it selfish? I've been afraid, I couldn't even say a word when you answered the phone. When I readied the guest room this morning I...almost puked. I still don't know, if I'm making a terrible mistake..."
If she readied the guest room she must want him to stay with her. With them. His heart flutters happily, when she looks up and turns around, taking one feathery hand of his in hers.
"We need help," she says, hand ice-cold.
"You and..." he begins and when Katniss takes her hands away he misses that coldness immediately.
"Peeta," she says, "I asked you before. Didn't I? Before the Quarter Quell. To help us train, to make us stronger. This is similar. And different. You probably won't be as eager to say yes."
"What is it?" he pleads, hardly able to stand this any longer.
"He is...I mean, we are not as stable, as we should be. Peeta came back from the Capitol and was better. Everyday it seemed to get easier. He got better. He helped me. We grew closer and...well..."
Katniss cheeks are red, she is biting her lip harshly. He is afraid she is hurting herself, when a small drop of blood appears beneath her front tooth.
"We tried. Tried to get closer. He says it's all he ever wanted. All he ever dreamed of. We were both good. But then, one evening..." she talks fast, atypically, "It was perfect. Romantic. I wanted. It. Him. Needed it, and that evening I was ready, and then... Then he got a little carried away. It was no big deal, he went out of the room to calm down, I made him tea and we talked. I gave him time, a few days, a week. When I told him that we should try again, he said he couldn't. Wouldn't. I don't know..."
Gale swallows, sweats even in the rainy weather.
"You talking about sex, that it?"
Her eyes are almost crazy when she meets his.
"He said that I could not understand. That he changed. I don't know what they did to him, in the Capitol. What he lived through in this hell. And he won't tell me. He is a big guy, strong, certainly stronger than me, everyone can see. He is afraid that he'll hurt me badly, that once he starts he won't be able to stop. He doesn't listen when I say that I can look after myself. He refuses to try again. We're...kissing. With clothes on. Nothing else works, since he does not want to be physically restrained, you see. Says that is too similar to shackles and flashbacks and stuff. That he can't. We can't. Ever be close. And it's been that way for a while."
Katniss cheeks are burning brightly. She made him speechless. This talk is so far away from everything he thought he knew about who Katniss Everdeen was. She's talking about sex. About Peeta. It's weird. Different.
"So," he begins after it becomes clear she has nothing more to say, "Where..I mean, what exactly do you want me to do here?" He swallows hard. Still not understanding what his role in this is.
Katniss looks him straight in the eye, making him gasp. His mouth is dry and he is weirdly aware of his mouth - not knowing what face he should be making.
"I love Peeta," she says, loud and clear, "I love him so much, Gale. He is my all. My everything. He should be happy. I hate to see him like this. You must know that I'm not doing this because of me. Me - I could live without it. But Peeta is not...happy. He needs more. And so I decided to take action. I can only see it happening in a certain...way, I guess. I thought long and hard. I mean, I thought of many potential...people. Even made a list. There is only one conclusion. In the end, it was clear that it could only be you."
"Damn you, Katniss," Gale growls, "Spit it out. What do you want me to do?"
Katniss jumps up and turns towards the direction of town, her back to him, afraid to look at him, perhaps?
"I want you to... be with us. When we do it. So that Peeta feels safe, doesn't have to worry. If he shows signs of an episode...you can interfere, if he's losing it. Physically hold him back from hurting me. From doing the one thing he is so afraid of."
She turns around again, meeting his shocked face.
"Will you help?" she asks, voice cold again, "Don't forget. You owe me."
The slight arousal and happiness he felt after Katniss proposal, is replaced by anger.
It's cold. She is cold. Without passion or empathy. Talks like this is a mathematical problem, she is facing this entirely void of emotion. One plus one equals...what? Three?
He killed her sister.
So he owes her.
Where is Peeta's part in all of this? His face falls, when he looks into Katniss grey eyes. She is forcing herself to invite him into their bedroom. Even made a list of 'other' people before she even considered him. And who was on that list anyway? Haymitch "fucking" Abernathy? The thought is so disgusting, he doesn't even dare to ask.
"If I say yes, how exactly did you imagine this will run down?" he asks, voice equally as cold.
Katniss begins to shudder and turns away from him again, "Obviously I'm not comfortable with you being involved with me. I don't want that. So, I thought you would sit on our armchair and...well...watch..."
Watch them having sex. He had even dreamed about this. Oh, how many times had he imagined that.
"If Peeta has an episode you can intervene," she states, turning back.
"That means, you're okay with me watching you? Naked, having sex?" he meets her hesitant gaze, "Don't look at me like this Katniss. I want us to be completely clear and honest about the things you actually mean here. Vague hints are not the way to go."
"It's far from ideal," she continues, "I am aware of that. Can't you see how hard this is for me? To ask this from you? We are going to have sex, and yeah...I'm okay with you seeing me naked. But you stay on that armchair. Clothed. And that's it."
He shakes his head. She is unbelievable.
"My feelings in all of this aside," he begins, still baffled that Katniss is oblivious to the fact that he's a human too, with human reactions, "You called me here. Behind Peeta's back, to negotiate me watching over you two. Have you ever considered that he might not be keen on the idea?"
This is it, the heart of it, the core. Did Peeta tell Katniss?
"Don't you worry about that," she says quickly, "I will talk to him and he will agree. I know."
"How?" he asks, and finally wants to hear the truth, "Why would he be okay with me being there?"
Why indeed. Katniss stays silent for a while and then bursts out.
"Because he's attracted to you, that's why," she groans, blushing heavily. He can't muster any reaction. The way she says it, though...it doesn't sound like she knows.
"Don't be mad at Peeta," Katniss says quickly, "He hides it. He is trying hard to hide that he... I mean, they did horrible things to him in the Capitol, experiments on his brain. He can't help it."
He stares at her, trying to connect her words with the reality, when all that comes out is a jumbled mess. Her imagination must've run wild in these last years.
"He's keeping it from me," she continues, "That he has these thoughts. Peeta talks in his sleep and one time, I caught him...I mean, we had seen you on TV that day...I'm not sure...he doesn't think I can understand. He thinks I'm not able to understand this attraction. When it's not like this. I do understand. I do..."
She looks at him, trying to gauge his reaction.
"You don't look too surprised," she whispers, "Did...did something happen between you and Peeta? In Thirteen?"
"You haven't talked to him about this?" he asks, biting his lips, thinking back to the day Peeta and he decided to tell Katniss about them before the announcement of the Quarter Quell. Peeta had been so determined. He had this plan. They nearly did. He isn't sure what he expected Peeta to do during these two years. He didn't seem the type to keep secrets.
"Stop, Gale, stop it," says Katniss, still blushing. "I'm so tired of guessing. Tell me if you want to or not. And then I'll talk to Peeta."
"No," he says, gentler this time. Katniss isn't acting out of malice, out to hurt him, being intentionally unkind is not what she is.
She is acting out of love. Love for Peeta. Gale lifts his head, eyes finding the sky. Breathing in and out deeply. He doesn't want to overthink this. Katniss is desperate. Peeta might have his own reasons for not telling her, but Peeta isn't here.
"Catnip," he begins, clears his throat and then says, "Katniss."
She is quiet, anticipating, waiting. Silent, like the hunter waiting for a rabbit to make his appearance, somewhere in the shadows.
"There is something I have to tell you," he says, "Something I...or should I say, we should've told you a long time ago. I have no idea, why he didn't. Maybe he doesn't remember, maybe he is ashamed. I don't know. I haven't talked to Peeta since that night in Tigris' basement."
His chest starts to ache, and his heart, too.
"You know we talked about me going to the slag heap before, right?"
Katniss is pale around her nose, sensing that this is important, maybe.
"You're correct. Something happened between Peeta and me. But not in Thirteen. It started way earlier. In the winter after your games, I ran into Peeta and Mia Wolk. At the slag heap."
Katniss comes closer, mouth open. Looks young, like when she arrived in the woods. After school, so many summers ago.
"Mia Wolk? From our class?"
"Yeah," he answers. "Looking back, I don't know what came over me. Nothing happened between them, I interrupted when I realized what was happening. Who he was. There was jealousy and I felt betrayed by his actions. It's hard for me to pinpoint why seeing him affected me that time, that night. Anyway I stopped them. Told her to get lost. And then...I told him, well, I tried..I don't remember exactly what I told him. But I kind of, see, we ended up kissing. Somehow."
He looks up at her, but she just stands in the clearing, mouth open, eyes formed into slits. Gale feels like a naughty child. Caught doing something he always knew he shouldn't do, but kept doing it regardless.
"After that we met at the slag heap for a while. Then later we went to his house. It ended when you two went away, to the Quell."
It's obvious that this is not all. How much is he ready to tell? How much of this should come from Peeta?
"What ended?" she says, voice dead, "You and Peeta...what ended, Gale? Kissing? That it? That's why he moans your name in his sleep? Just a few little kisses? That's what you're telling me?"
"We made out," he says, "No...intercourse. Peeta didn't want that. He wanted his first time to be with you. That's what he told me."
"Are you kidding me?" Katniss stares, mouth open, like a fish, obviously too shocked to be upset. It would look almost comical, if Gale wasn't feeling so guilty. He is in no position to tease.
In a far corner of his mind, something is celebrating. Cheering the fact that Peeta moans his name in his sleep. Has not forgotten.
"No," he says, calm, trying to sound soothing, "I was pushing him. It was really all my fault, Katniss. I was the older one, the more experienced one. I pushed Peeta into something...made him believe that he needed guidance..."
He wants to defend himself, and while knowing that these words sound pathetic, he can't help but press them out anyway.
"He would've slept with Mia, if I hadn't stopped him," he says, with a bit of repulsion towards himself.
It sounds false. Like he is expecting a thank you from Katniss. A thank you for getting him away from Mia and into his arms.
"The night before the Quell announcement, we had decided we must tell you," he continues, "But then..."
"President Snow announced we were to go back into the arena," Katniss concludes, shaking her head. He is watching her. Feeling light. It's like a weight has been lifted from his shoulder.
"Now, you see why me being in your bedroom is not as simple," he says.
"Wait a moment, here. This is not done. I mean, it explains a lot of things I have wondered about. And others remain...this..what you did. It doesn't make sense. Why did you care if Peeta slept with Mia? Why even bother?"
He shrugs.
"I guess, I was attracted to Peeta. Some part of me wanted him. Wanted to claim him as mine. I felt betrayed. Like I was you, that night. Decided that Peeta shouldn't be with any girl, but you."
"That's ridiculous," she snorts, "Ridiculous."
"It really does sound ridiculous," he simply responds, "Still. This is what happened."
Her eyes are back to slits.
"And then, when you...is that why you went to the Capitol? To get him back?"
"I don't think so," he says, "Maybe."
"You're unbelievable," she whispers, and then straightens up.
"What was Peeta to you, Gale?" Her voice quivers. "You say you were pushing him. Why would you do that? Why would you use him like that?"
He doesn't answer. Should he tell Katniss that there was love between him and Peeta? That this wasn't just some fun thing two teenagers did in the heat of the moment? How would she react to that?
"And if...if there was more between the two of you, why didn't you help him? Sought him out and supported him? Why did you have to abandon him, too?" she groans and Gale realizes in with a strange clarity, an unknown focused sharpness, that he loves this girl, with all that is left of his heart. She has changed, and still she's astounding. This unconditional love Katniss has for Peeta proves that retreating had been for the best.
Katniss shows maturity that he lacks. Anger, Pain, Bitterness, all the things he imagined she would show him after finally telling the truth, it is not what he sees in her eyes. Just sadness that he and her both abandoned their Peeta when he needed them the most. A salty tear drops from his nose to the forest floor.
"Guilt," he says after a while, "The reason was guilt. And I was jealous. Don't make a mistake Katniss, Peeta always loved you. After the hijacking he did not reach out to me. He reached out to you. I didn't want to come between that. I am not, I was not what he needed to heal."
"Needed," she repeats back to him, "That is where you're wrong. Peeta needed you. He still needs you. I didn't understand until today what was missing."
She sighs deeply.
"Look at us, two kids from the Seam, entirely smitten with the a town boy," she laughs shortly, "We're really stupid, aren't we?"
"Doesn't it feel wrong to talk about Peeta, without him knowing anything about it?" asks Gale.
They stay silent for so long he thinks she's forgotten he is here.
"Peeta trusts me," she says and her tone is gentle, "That's the strangest thing. One would believe that after all that has happened, he would never show that much understanding, or doubt my every word. Since we've been together I have been waiting for the ball to drop. Was waiting for the day he calls me Mutt again. It's strange. Who forgives, just like that? Obviously Peeta does. Remains open, where I am guarded. We can talk about everything. I try to be honest with him. And he tries to be honest with me. At least I thought he was. Honest. This is confusing."
"Aren't you mad? Or even," he gulps, "Even jealous?"
"You think I should be?" she asks, and then continues, frowning, "Yeah, I suppose that is what a normal person should be feeling."
"No, wait. This is not what I was trying to imply," he says, indignantly. "You're normal. We thought you would react a bit more...betrayed, I guess? When Peeta and I discussed coming clean, we were both positive that you would hate the thought. Be disgusted."
She scowls at him.
"I'm not exactly celebrating. But so much has happened. I cannot say what I would've done, said or felt if you had told me then. Neither Peeta nor you...I didn't..I mean, I don't own Peeta. He is his own person and so are you. After the games I couldn't give you or Peeta what you wanted from me. Maybe it is even natural that you both looked for something I wasn't able to provide. Maybe I am still not able to do that. Somehow...I know this sounds twisted, but somehow you two being..." she pauses, searching for a word, "..intimate with one another, makes the predicament easier to solve."
'Katniss is confusing', he thinks to himself. 'Did I ever really knew her at all?' Has she always been like this? Or did she change?
"Where do we go from here?" he says quietly, after thinking for a moment. "What do we do now?"
A confused wrinkle appears on Katniss' face. They are at a crossroad. He can sense it. She stands in front of him, face milder than it had been all day.
"We go to Peeta," she says, "You're right about me being unfair. Doing this behind his back. We will tell him about my plan, ask what he thinks of it...and then, I guess, it'll be his decision. How to move forward. Okay?"
Gale feels like he has to think. Needs more time to process. She's pushing him hard, he's only been here for a few hours. He doesn't feel a hundred percent confident about her plan. Peeta could reject the idea. And then he would have to leave, leave the District like a dog with the tails between his legs. He can't tell her that this would kill him. That he wouldn't be able to come back from a rejection like that. With Peeta and Katniss continuing their journey together, without him.
While that thought hurts, he is aware that he is the intruder this time. The third wheel, the one who is about to become a factor in a relationship between a man and a woman. A couple that are perceived to be perfect together, who have been through so much. It doesn't sound like Katniss has really given that much thought about adding a third person and what that might mean. Are they, are Katniss and Peeta stable enough? Is their love strong enough? Is there any place left? And does Gale even want that place, when he is never going to be the one and only? Is he that person?
He studies her closely. She is waiting for an answer, an answer he doesn't have. Her reaction to his confession was too mild. She didn't have any chance to process it. Might be she is still too shocked to realize what Gale and Peeta did. Or what that meant. For them. For her and Peeta. He doesn't want to go into detail, but if they are ought to be in a setting where all three of them are naked, have sex...her and Peeta for the first time even, there are truths that have to be faced. Details that have to be talked about.
"Okay?" she asks once more, voice less confident, more girlish.
Gale shrugs. It's not for him to decide, at least right now. Peeta must be included in the discussion. The thought of seeing him, hearing him talk, maybe even touching him makes his heart flutter. He stands up, shouldering the pheasant on his back.
"Let's go," he answers.
There is no use in procrastinating.
"Let's hear what Peeta thinks."
