Thanks to everyone for the encouragement after my writer's block. All of your reviews inspire me! I didn't expect this chapter to end up the way it did but I guess that's the way writing goes. I hope you enjoy it. Reviews are always appreciated.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games or characterss. These belong to Suzanne Collins.
The evenly spaced lights of the tunnel are shining through the bedroom window. Light, dark, light, dark. Dark. The train is quiet in the middle of the night but I still can't sleep. As always, I take comfort in feeling Peeta's sleeping body pressed up against mine. He wanted to take a hovercraft but I insisted on the train. I have fond memories of feeling safe with him on trains. No matter how superficial that safety was then. I should be sleeping. We have a big, big, big day tomorrow, I think to myself and laugh.
The next time the train stops we'll be in 4. Peeta said we could stop in 2 if I wanted. To see Gale. But I told him that wasn't necessary. If he wanted to see me he would have by now. I don't know how I feel about seeing my mother. I understand why she hasn't been to visit me but she could call more. She could at least pretend she cares about how I am doing.
I squirm from his arms and stand up, stretching my arms above my head. I go out into the hall way, where the dim lights above illuminate all of the closed cabin doors. Only one has light coming through the bottom. I knew I could count on him to be sleepless with me.
I knock on the door and don't get an immediate reply so I let myself in.
His back is turned towards me. He has something in his hands I can't see. He hides it before he turns around. "Hi," I say.
"How many times do we have to go over this?" Haymitch asks, in a huff.
He makes his hand into a fist, "You go like this," he knocks on his bed frame. "Then you wait for someone to invite you in. It's not rocket science, sweetheart."
"Whatever," I tell him, sitting on the chair by his bed. "What are you doing?"
"None of your business. Go away."
"No. I can't sleep."
"Good," he says tersely.
"You aren't still mad are you?" I chide.
"I don't know what I am doing here. I can't believe I let you talk me into this."
"Come on, what else were you going to do while we were gone?" I ask.
"That's not the point. I'm not your babysitter. I shouldn't have to be here."
"You don't have to be anywhere. You know you wanted to come," I try to convince him.
"No. I did not." He takes a long drink from his flask.
"What are you hiding over there?" I ask, motioning to his hand.
"None of your business. Go away," he repeats himself. I cross my arms and wait for a response. We sit in silence for endless minutes. I can see him growing frustrated and I smile at him when he catches my eye. I'm not going anywhere and we both know it. He lets out an exasperated sigh and flings the object into my lap.
There are evenly spaced black beads on a thin string that come together in a circle then the lead off into one string. At the bottom of the rows they come to a point where the beads end and in their place is a cross.
"A necklace?" I ask, examining the delicate hand crafted object of Haymitch's affection.
"A rosary," he says in a gruff voice. "It was my mother's."
Haymitch has a mother. That never occurred t me. "A rosary?" I repeat.
"Yeah. Is something wrong with your ears? Do I need to repeat it again?" he rips it from my hands.
"It's pretty," I tell him.
"It's not just a necklace. It's more than that. At least she thought it was."
"How?" I ask.
"If I tell you will you go away?" he asks, angrily. What a grouch.
"Maybe," I tell him.
"She thought it was a promise," he says.
"How could a necklace be a promise?" I ask, my brow furrowing with confusion.
"It's not the rosary," he says, giving me a curt look, "that's the promise. It's what the rosary stands for."
"What's that?"
"Life, after this…without pain," he finishes. He lies down on his bed and closes his eyes, clutching the rosary to his chest. I wonder if I'll ever understand all that he's been through. I feel bad for being mean to him all the time.
"You can leave now," he says. And now I don't feel bad anymore.
When I make it back to my room I accidentally wake Peeta up.
"What are you doing?" he whispers to me.
"I couldn't sleep," I say burying my face into his chest. He kisses my forehead. Such a small gesture but it creates such phenomenal feelings inside me. "I love you," I tell him. But he's already sleeping.
I lie awake for most of the rest of the night. Thinking. The closer we get to the Capital the more I feel like I'm suffocating. I know we need this but I wish we could just turn back. I like our life in 12. We have a good life. I hate to admit it but I have to. I'm afraid. Of what we'll see. Who we'll see. What's it going to be like to face Plutarch in person? Plus, how can we not stop to see Annie? We have to. But how I can see her and not see Finnick? Finnick. I miss him. Just thinking his name hurts. I feel like he saved my life over and over. Physically and mentally. I finally drift to sleep focusing on the rhythm of Peeta's breathing. It's the lullaby that brings me peace in the darkness.
When we get off the train I feel like I've been punched in the face. Not because my mom isn't waiting for us. That I would expect. But because of who is waiting for us.
Gale.
Peeta is equally as taken by surprise as I am. He shifts uncomfortably next to me, unsure of what I want him to do. I'm thankful that he has my hand because squeezing it is all I can do to keep from being taken under by the rush of emotions flooding me. Haymitch stumbles off the train and forward our backs, nearly pushing us over.
"Did you forget how to walk?" he slurs, angrily. Peeta release me to help him get his footing.
"Did you forget to watch where you're going?" Peeta replies in an equally facetious tone.
"Oh, let me go. Don't baby me," Haymitch says. "What are you two waiting for anyway?" Then he sees him. He straightens his posture, emphasizing his presence on our side of the line. Specifically, his presence on Peeta's side of this awkward encounter.
My mom comes out from behind him. "Katniss!" she exclaims. She throws herself around me but I can't take my eyes off Gale. It's hard to believe he is really here. Why is here? And why didn't my mother warn me? "It's so good to see you," she says, taking my face into her hands. I can see a thousand moments of pain flicker in her eyes when she looks at me. I remind her so much of death. The last surviving member of her family. I know she would trade me for either of the two lost. I think she knows I know. "Gale's here!" she shrieks. She sounds nervous.
"Well, no shit," Haymitch says next to me. I suppress a laugh. He took the words right out of my mouth. My mom moves uneasily to stand next to Gale. And there it is. Them versus us, facing off between an invisible line. I've never felt so connected to Haymitch before. He's more of a father to me then her a mother.
"Gale," Peeta says next to me. "Good to see you." He reaches out his hand in gesture. Gale shakes it and smiles towards him before meeting my eyes again. I realize everyone's waiting for me to react. So they can react.
"Katniss," Gale says to me, formally. "Hello." I stare but don't speak. It's like the world has stopped. Everything around me is waiting for me to propel it back into motion. I don't. But, luckily, I have Peeta.
"I'll get the luggage. Come on, old man," he says to Haymitch. Haymitch hesitates leaving my side. He catches my eye to make sure I am okay. I nod, still unable to find words so he leaves with Peeta. My mom follows after to help them. And then it's just the two of us.
I've never seen Gale so unsure of himself before. He looks like the young boy I first started hunting with. In presence anyway. In actuality, he looks like a full grown…man. I try to remember how long it's been since I was shipped back home. A year, two…maybe longer. All of the dark days seem to blend together. I didn't really start living again until Peeta and I… I twist my wedding ring around and around on my ring finger. Gale notices.
"Hi," I say quietly, to get his attention off of my ring.
When everyone arrives with the luggage we make our way back to my mom's house. It's a quaint house for one person. Nothing overtly reminiscent of my mom's style really. But wasn't that the point? To escape from all that was before. She seems to be holding up okay. There's a gentleman neighbor that she seems to have a nice rapport with. This makes me smile. I want her to love again. Even if I know it's not me.
Peeta helps me through dinner. He is as charismatic as ever. My mom seems completely at ease with Gale. And it dawns on me. She doesn't know. How could she? Weaponry of district 13 and the brains behind it were classified. It makes me sick to my stomach. Gale has some nerve to assume that I didn't tell her.
I catch him staring at me and then quickly looking away. Of course, he realizes I just figured this out. He can read me like no one else can. And he knows I wouldn't do that to her. He must have really wanted to see me to put himself in this situation. But why? After dinner, Haymitch finds his way up the stairs. We don't expect to see him again. My mom announces that she has to run to the store to get a few things for breakfast. She asks Peeta if he wants to join her. She's so obvious. Peeta is too much of a gentleman to say no though.
"What are you going to say to him?" Peeta asks in front of the house, as he waits for my mom.
I shake my head, not having an answer. I put my arms around his shoulders and take a deep breath. I should deal with it now. That's what this trip is supposed to be about. I kiss his neck out of habit. It feels good to know that whatever happens next I'll get to be snuggled up against him in bed in a few hours.
"I can stay," he tells me. "I'll do whatever you want."
"I know," I smile. It's temping. "I'll be fine," I promise. "This is what we're here for right?"
"Yeah. A little notice would have been nice though." He tightens his arms around me. "Do you feel okay?"
"I think so," I admit. He waits for me to continue. "It's not pain like I thought it'd be. It's something else."
His blue eyes watch me, looking for a way to read my thoughts. He gives up. "Something else?"
"Yes."
"What?" he asks.
"I don't know yet," I say.
We stand at opposite sides of the kitchen. Awkwardly. He looks good. Really good. His body has muscle, but not in the way he gained muscles hunting and mining, in another way I can't figure out. His skin is healthy and glowing; his eyes deep as ever. His hands catch my attention as he fiddles with a napkin. They are strong and sturdy, just the way I remember them. I remember being in the woods with him and feeling like two parts of the same being. Feeling like we moved as one, in body and mind. I forgot how much I miss that.
I cross the room so I'm standing directly in front of him. He doesn't look at me, but I can tell he's nervous. His hands keep fidgeting. I move even closer. So close that my chest is just inches from his and look up into his eyes.
It's a weird feeling that I have then. Maybe because I didn't know what I'd find. Maybe because it's been so long. But when I see his grey eyes, so similar to mine, it makes me think of home. Not my old home in the Seam. Or the new house with Peeta. But a home within myself. A place where I was safe and free. A place where I knew who I was, not what was projected upon me. Where I was a part of something other than myself but more myself then I could comprehend.
Two parts, one being.
I want to feel his arm around my shoulder, casual and comfortable, like before. I lean against the counter next to him, our bodies touching, and wait. For anything. The house is quiet. Haymitch must have passed out already. I thought Peeta and my mom would be back by now. I feel like precious seconds are passing. Like this is the only time we'll have. But I don't know time for what yet.
"I couldn't go back," Gale finally says. "I wanted to. But when I found out Peeta was going once he was released I knew I didn't stand a chance." He stayed away to let Peeta have me? That doesn't sound right. "Then they offered me a job, far away from you. 12…Seemed like a good distraction."
The air between is dense. Filled with memories of our former lives. It's palpable. Intrusive.
"I didn't know…if you'd even want to see me. I heard that you were having a hard time but I was too much of a coward to reach out to you. I knew you wouldn't stop in 2. That's why I came here. I had to see you."
I don't remember Gale being this articulate. It feels like he's been rehearsing this but the way he stumbles over his words tells me he hasn't. I don't know what to say to him. I want to reach over and hug his body to mine but how can I? The last time we spoke we both openly admitted that his bomb…
I can't even think the words.
"I can go," he says. I hadn't noticed he was watching me. My face must be twisted in the recollection of our last encounter. He starts to move away, throwing the napkin on the counter when I finally find my voice.
"No," I manage. "Stay."
He moves back next to me against the counter. Back to the silence. How do I feel about Gale? My first reaction to him was shock. But that was because of the surprise of it all. Now, adjusting to him being here, in the flesh, and not in my thoughts, I'm not in shock. I don't think I am angry. I feel sadness but it's not because of Prim. It's something multifaceted and I don't know where to begin to make sense of it. So instead, I just reach for him.
At first I just take his hand. But the warmth of the sturdy hands that I once trusted so much is not enough. I reach my hands around his waist and try that out. It feels abnormal. Or maybe amoral. Again, I don't know where to start to try to figure this feeling out. I find his eyes again. They are openly in pain. Struggling. Does he feel guilty? Is that why he won't reach for me too? His lower lip quivers. He's trying hard not to cry. But why?
I want to know if this is real. Is this feeling inside me, desperate to be connected with him again, real? A tear cascades down his cheek but he never takes his eyes off of mine. Then I lose it. I didn't know I was holding back tears until then. I'm crying and clinging to him. To lost friendships. To lost lives. I cling to my lost future and it's painful. It's the most pain I've experienced since I recovered from Prim. He finally extends his arms around me now. I move mine up around his shoulders and bury my face into his neck and cry. For everything and nothing at all.
He's crying too and mumbling something I can't understand. His body shakes with the words he desperately wants me to hear. I don't know if I'm ready to hear them though. All I know is that I just found a part of me I thought was long gone. I found the home within myself in the arms of my former future. And it dawns on me…I don't think they can survive, one without the other. This feeling inside me is only present with Gale.
I was self sufficient with him. Even though we moved like one person I was always sure of myself. I was always myself. Now I depend on Peeta. I can't survive without him. My whole life is based on being with him every feasible second that I can.
For a moment I remember the feeling of being enough for myself. Gale was always there but I wasn't tethered to him the way I am with Peeta. He allowed me to move on my own. To breathe. And it wasn't because we talked all of our feelings out. It was because he just knew. His intuition was connected with mine on a level Peeta probably will never reach.
How many hours of conversations have we shared? How many times have we sat in silence, no words needed? We didn't need to talk to know what the other was thinking or feeling. Being with Gale was always effortless. And then I wonder… how many times did I try to convince myself to feel something with Peeta when I never had to convince myself with Gale? Where did those feelings go?
I don't think I ever really could place the blame of Prim's death on him. He may have designed the bomb but he didn't intend for what happened. He intended it for other families, other sisters, but not mine. Not ours. Maybe that is the worst part. Because no matter whom the intent was towards it was there. He was blinded by murderous rage and he didn't think of the consequences. But I too have killed. Not indirectly like him but with purpose. Calculated purpose, even. So who I am to judge him? To be angry? I'm no better than he is.
Then I find my head. Because Peeta is better than me. Peeta is better than all of us. He came back to me not knowing if I would ever be with him. And then he married me not knowing how truly in love with him I was. He's been selfless and he's never judged me. He loved me before I even knew Gale. Whereas Gale, it seems, only wanted me after Peeta came into my life. Did this make him realize his feelings for me? Or did he just want what he could no longer have?
I want to ask Gale all of these questions but I know he already knows. He knows every thought going through my head right now. He feels everything that I'm feeling and he's mourning for it all. Because it's too late now. No matter what the answers to the questions are, no matter what our feelings were for each other then, or even still now, it's too late. Too much has happened.
But if I know all of this, then why do my arms refuse to let him go?
