A/N: OMG, when exactly did this get over 1,000 views? O.O Seriously, guys, don't you have any better strories to read? Anyway, I'm so thankful for every single person who decides to give this fic a try - and even more for those who decide to give me some feedback about it. All of you are awesome :)

I had quite some trouble with this chapter; I rewrote it several times and this is the best version I could manage, but I'm still not completely pleased... Hope the last few paragraphes aren't too rushed.

The chapter turned out a lot longer than I intended, so I decided to split it into two parts. Part 2 will be up Tueday night because I still want to do some minor polishing and I won't be home all day tomorrow.

But for now, enjoy Chapter 10 (I hope it isn't too messed up...)!

Chapter 10

It's hard without Catnip, much harder than Gale could've ever imagined. He didn't even realize how much he relied on her help, her companionship, during the last four years – until now. Because that's just the way the Capitol works; always managing to make the hard things even harder, always taking away what little comfort the citizens had and brutally thrusting them back into the harsh, desperate reality.

Katniss is only gone for two days now and Gale is exhausted and tired out. His muscles ache from hours of roaming the woods and hunting – fruitless hunting, to be exact. He isn't a good enough shot to hit something as small as a squirrel and bringing bigger game down is almost impossible without a partner to work with.

After an hour or two Gale gives up, goes back to gathering berries and digging roots and hopes that at least his snares will catch some meat.

„She's coming back, isn't she, Gale?" Prim asks, looking up to him with big, scared eyes when he stops by at the Everdeens' house to drop some of his haul off, just like he had promised Catnip to do.

Gale forces a smile onto his lips.

"Yeah, she is. Sure thing," he says casually – because every other possible answer would just be too horrible for this girl.

Great, now I have two little sisters to look after, he thinks. He has not the slightest idea what to do if Catnip doesn't come back.

At dinner, Gale shovels most of his serving onto Rory's plate when his mother isn't looking. His brother is currently going through a growth spurt, he needs the energy. Gale can do without it for one more day – at least that's what he tells himself.

Gale doesn't know who the beaming, waving girl on the big screen in the Square is, but it surely isn't his Catnip.

She looks like some kind of almighty goddess, surrounded by flames that make her beautiful face glow in an unearthly manner. A warrior. Strong. Fierce. Powerful. And outshining everyone else.

At first, Gale is amazed by what he sees, mesmerized like the rest of the crowd. But then he realizes how terribly wrong this is. No, this is certainly not his Catnip! It's a poor girl who has to give up everything she is, who has to twist and turn her whole personality around to appeal to some rich morons she detests so they will maybe, just maybe, increase her chances of surviving a little bit longer in a cruel and totally unnecessary fight.

Gale's fingernails dig into his palms, almost hard enough to draw blood, but the pain is covered by raw, red-hot rage pulsing through his veins. He prays for the broadcast to end and the electricity to be turned off so he can take refuge in the peace of the woods, just like he did two years ago when he had to watch Heather die on that screen.

The only consolation is that Katniss isn't Heather. Katniss isn't like any other girl he knows. If there is one person in District 12 really capable of winning the Games then it's her. And if this is what she has to do to make it – well, then so be it.

Gale isn't stupid; he knows she's just acting, knows this is part of her survival strategy – but his heart still breaks a bit when Peeta Mellark reaches for Katniss' hand and she takes it with a smile.

Two months. Just two more months, then he'll be finished with school and entitled to start working in the mines. The work will be hard; Gale has no illusions about that, but the monthly pay will make things so much easier for his whole family, including Prim and Mrs Everdeen.

But until then… it's gonna be hard. Impossible, if the worst case comes to pass and Catnip really dies.

Of course it's painful to think about his best friend's possible death and Gale tries to avoid the thought as much as possible, but he's a realistic person. He likes to have a plan for every situation.

Three days after the reaping – the final day of the tributes' training – Gale bathes after he comes back from the woods; he stands in front of the mirror and combs his unruly dark hair and puts on a clean shirt before he picks up a nicely wrapped package of strawberries and makes his way to the mayor's house.

He hates himself already for doing this, but Gale has learned very early in life that the right way is rarely the easy one.

Of course it's the girl who opens the door, Madge. Doesn't she have anything better to do than to sit in the basement all day and wait for visitors?

"Oh, it's you." She eyes him with a frosty, haughty expression. "Did you accidentally fall into your mother's washtub? You look so… clean."

Gale just rolls his eyes. He doesn't have time for this spoiled girl's little games.

"Is your mother here?" he asks and suddenly he feels like the scared fourteen-year-old boy who asked the same question on this very doorstep four years ago again.

"Yes, she is," Madge answers and raises her eyebrows. "But I'm afraid she's sleeping. Headaches, you know?"

"Oh…" Gale doesn't quite know if he should be disappointed or relieved. On the one hand, he really didn't want to do this. On the other hand, the only thing he'd caught today were two fish and a meagre rabbit – barely enough to fill the stomachs of seven people. And it won't get better.

He doesn't get enough sleep because he's lying awake all night worrying about Catnip; he's already exhausted from checking his long snare lines everyday all by himself, and he's started doing every kind of job people have to offer – carrying firewood for old Greasy Sae, replacing the mouldered laths of the tailor's fence, helping the butcher with gutting game – but it's still not enough. As much as Gale hates to admit it; Mrs Undersee is the only source of money he has left.

Two months, he told himself during the walk here. I'll only have to do this for two months until I can start working in the mines.

"What do you want from her anyway?" Madge rips Gale out of his thoughts. "Am I not good enough to buy your strawberries anymore?"

"Maybe I'm just not in the mood to deal with little girls today," he spits back, expecting a sassy remark. But it doesn't come.

When Gale looks up, Madge's look is soft, almost compassionate. And suddenly it hits him like a punch in the stomach: she knows! Madge Undersee knows of the proposition her mother has made Gale so many years ago. She must have eavesdropped, that little brat…

Gale feels hot blood rush into his cheeks. He has never been so embarrassed in his whole life – and by the damn mayor's daughter of all people! The fact that she knows what he was ready to do when he came here makes him want to crawl into a hole and never ever come out again.

"I have to go now," he stutters and turns to leave.

"Don't I get to keep those strawberries?" Madge shouts after him.

Gale sighs and looks at the nicely wrapped fruits in his hands. If only he didn't need the money so badly…

"You're a proud one, aren't you, Gale Hawthorne?" she whispers as he hands her the strawberries. Her pale blue eyes pierce into his grey ones as if she wanted to explore his soul. "It must be really hard without Katniss, otherwise you would never go this far."

Gale's eyes narrow and his hands curl into fists.

"What would you possible know about a hard life, princess?" he snarls.

"Not much," she admits calmly. "But maybe you could tell me?"

With that she opens the door behind her a little wider.

He doesn't know what to expect when she leads him into the living room. Everything just screams expensive; the furniture, the large television set, the exotic looking carpets, even the wallpapers. Gale instantly feels out of place.

"Sit down," Madge says and casually points at the large, comfortable couch. "I'll be right back."

When she comes back she carries a tray with a dozen or so small, frosted cupcakes. Just the look of them makes his mouth water. "Those are leftover's from the reception father held for the Capitol people. They are really good you should try them."

At first, Gale hesitates to take one – no way he's going to accept charity from Madge!

But then she tells him: "They'll go to waste if we don't eat them."

And his stomach takes over. He picks a deliciously looking one with blueberries on top. It's probably the best thing he's ever eaten. Maybe she'll let him take some of them home for his siblings?

Madge sits down next to him and smiles. Neither of them talks much, but it isn't an uncomfortable sort of silence.

Gale doesn't notice that Madge doesn't eat a single one of the cupcakes.

He has no idea how the hell it went that far.

It probably started when Madge turned the TV on to watch the interviews.

Gale smiles at the sight of Catnip; looking beautiful again, but so much more like herself than she had at the Opening Ceremony. He recognizes the girl from the woods when she awkwardly talks about herself, about Prim. The audience loves the girl they believe her to be.

And suddenly, there is a tiny bit of hope that for once in Gale's life everything might just turn out alright; the possibility that his Catnip actually comes back to him, unharmed; unchanged.

But because nothing in Gale's life ever seems to be that easy, Peeta Mellark has to walk on that stage and shatter all the newfound hope.

"Because she came here with me."

Gale realizes what those words mean; probably faster than most people in Panem. He's not sure if they are genuine or just part of a strategy, but honestly – he doesn't care. Because by announcing his love for Katniss, Peeta has irreversibly changed something. Gale can't really explain what it is, but he knows instinctively that it'll make everything there was, there is, and there might ever be between Catnip and himself so much more complicated.

He feels Madge squeeze his hand and briefly wonders when exactly she took it.

"You really love her, don't you?" she whispers, her eyes like deep, bottomless lakes.

"I don't know," he answers. It's the truth. How could he possibly know what he feels for Katniss, between Peeta Mellark's romantic confessions and Madge's soft, warm fingers, entwined with his?

Gale thinks he can almost hear Madge's flattery heartbeat. How come he never noticed how good she smells? Not like Catnip, not like fresh air and forest soil. Madge smells like a spring day in the meadow, like honey and sweet flowers.

Nothing compares to the woods, but the meadow isn't that bad, either.

Madge's soft lips taste like strawberries when Gale leans down and kisses her.