Vendetta

Peeta gave a half chuckle, "And you look tired Madge...you try to hide it beneath ice and stone but I can see it. You look tired, Madge, so fucking tired." –Peeta Mellark.

Chapter 12: Like Father, Like Daughter

Madge stretched out on the motel sofa. It was some time after midnight—12:18 to be exact—and she couldn't sleep. Well, that wasn't necessarily true, she could sleep she just didn't want to. Too many bad dreams and too many good memories haunting her. The only light came from a hazy, glowing bulb behind her head. The blonde raised her right hand, watching the way her scars were just a shade darker of gold than her skin in the light. Madge shut her eyes, swallowing against the rise of memories.

"Dammit, you are stronger than this Madge. Stronger than them." Now if only she could believe it. She forced her mind away from the bad memories and to the plan. It was simple, in two days time Glitter and Gale would make their way around the Granite to find a connection—any connection—to Hetov. With Madge trailing behind them like a shadow, keeping an eye out for anyone who looked like they could make them.

Theo wouldn't be going—not just for the obvious reason that he towered over everyone in Skarslet and would give them away—but also because they needed someone to be their backup plan in case they got made.

Or captured.

The plan was simple, yes, but there were so many goddamn things that could go wrong that Madge couldn't account for them all. The worst part was that she couldn't even think further than this, not when he was so close and she was so close to finally making sure that Justin didn't die for nothing. She just couldn't…think. Couldn't plan further. Because whenever she tried it was like there was this stone wall in her mind stopping her process. And the more she tried to knock it down, the taller it seemed to get.

"Dammit Madge," she hissed, her voice startling in the quietness of the dead night. Whatever happened tomorrow, it was going to be because of her, bad or good. And she hoped so much that things went good, but with her track record she doubted it.

Madge could feel her palms sweating underneath her gloves. She took them off and stuffed them in her back pockets. Why was she so nervous? She had stared down the barrel of a gun before—several times actually—without breaking a sweat so why was meeting a drunkard making her so anxious?

Because he's the closest thing to a father you've ever had.

The blonde scowled, ignoring the voice in her head, wiping her hands on her cargo pants before knocking on the dirty, white washed door several times. She stood back, tucking her hands behind her back and settling back on the balls of her feet, spine ramrod straight and head held high. Madge had unconsciously fallen back into the proper position of a young lady without meaning too. There was the sound of someone shuffling and a drunken yell of "Coming!"

She thought she was ready, that she had prepared herself for this moment, but when the door opened she knew that no amount of planning could've prepared her.

He looks the same. Was the first thought in her head. His hair was still a dirty blonde, too long, and in need of a wash or two. His eyes were Seam grey and his face was still in need of a shave. True he looked a little older, the lines around his eyes a little more pronounced, and his hair looked bit more gray than brown but he still looked the same.

Madge smiled, "Haymitch."

The older man blinked several times, like he wasn't sure if what he was seeing was real. Than all the fight seemed to seep out of his body as he sagged against the door frame. His eyes were weary as they rested on her. She could feel the weight of his gaze. "I was wondering when you were going to come and visit."

"Haymitch." Madge tried but he walked back inside without another word.

She followed him inside, "Haymitch—"

"Five years," he whispered, taking the bottle of jack off the coffee table and taking a swig.

"Haymitch—"

"FIVE FUCKING YEARS!" Haymitch yelled, throwing the bottle at the wall behind her head. Madge didn't flinch but her shoulders did tense as her eyes looked for the nearest exit. But the young woman had been on the receiving end of too many bottle smashes to ever really be scared of the sound or sight again. Or maybe she just didn't allow herself to be scared.

He turned back around to face her and Madge felt what was left of her heart break at the sight of his expression. He suddenly looked old beyond his years, his face lined with exhaustion and his eyes filled with betrayal and long buried grief. He whispered brokenly, "Five years Pearl. Five years I thought you were dead. For five years I grieved the loss of a girl I thought of as a daughter."

Madge had to swallow against the sudden tightness in her throat. "Haymitch, I am so—"

"Get out," Haymitch hissed, fatigue replaced by a bright anger.

Madge took a step back, "What?"

"Didn't you hear me?" Haymitch grounded out, voice shaking—from anger or grief she couldn't tell—his dark eyes drilling into hers. "Get. Out."

"Haymitch." She had to get to stop, just for a second, so she could explain. Just one second, that's all she needed. "Just—"

"NOW!" He roared and Madge nodded once before turning around and running out the front door.

Madge wasn't sure where she was running, just that she was. Just that she had to get away from that house. From that man. From who she used to be.

She was so stupid, to actually think that she could ever go back to who she was. That she could just show up and expect him to welcome her back with open arms.

I'm an idiot. She stopped at a building and put her hand over her mouth to muffle her sobs as tears slid silently down her face. What he said hurt, more than she thought it would.

Just for a few moments, she promised herself as she let her tears run freely down her face. Just a few minutes of weakness and then she would build back up her walls, stronger and thicker than ever this time. No one was going to get past them this time. No one was going to break what was left of her already fractured heart.

She took a couple of shuddering breaths and wiped the tear tracks. Madge stood up straight and brushed off her clothes, inspecting where she was.

I can't believe I ended up here of all places, she thought bitterly, looking around the bombed area. It was the Town part of the old District 12 and, even though it had been five years since the bombing, no one had bothered to clean it up. She studied the charred husks of houses as she walked among them.

It was eerie how quiet it was here. The only sound was of the wind, as it chased ghosts around the corners of houses long since gone. Everything was blackened, the houses, sidewalks, even the air. And the entire place was overgrown with weeds and the sense of lost. So many Townies died that night.

It looked haunted.

Maybe that's because it is.

If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine what it used to be like. Pretty, pretty houses filled with pretty, pretty things and people who were more useless than the things. People who hid their fear and anger behind snootiness and bright smiles. Who hid their tears behind laughter a couple pitches above too high. Who talked down to the Seam because it was all they knew, because it was all they knew how to do. Because they were too afraid of the Capital to not do it.

But when they were feeling particularly brave they would slip in extra money or supplies to the Seam when it was time to trade. Or throw "bad" food away in the sight of the more starving members of their tiny District.

Madge almost smiled, the Townies may have been cowards but they were probably the bravest group of cowards she had ever known. A yell broke her out of her nostalgic, bittersweet, daydream.

"Madge!" The woman turned around to see Gale of all people running to her with an almost worried look on his face.

"Gale?" Madge asked, confused. Stopping so he could catch up, "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing," he scowled; he seemed annoyed as he ran his fingers through his thick hair. Apparently the worry was just a figment of her imagination. "I was looking for you, what are you doing here?"

Madge shrugged, "I felt like seeing my old stomping grounds."

The blonde winced, even to her ears the lie fell flat. Damn, Haymitch had gotten more to her than she thought.

Get a grip Undersee!

Gale thought so too as his scowl became more pronounced, even as worry flashed in his eyes. "If I'm going to be doing…crowd control for you Madge, we're going to have to be truthful with each other. Whether you like it or not."

Madge smiled a bit at his wording, liking that he was trying to comfort her in his own abrasive way. The smile quickly dropped though when she registered what he said.

Madge sighed and sat down on one of the random stoops in front of a house. Dragging her hands through her hair, she scooted over to make room for Gale.

"I went to go see Haymitch. We had an argument. It upset me. And then I left." Madge pressed her lips together and shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant but she knew it didn't look real.

"What did he say?" Gale asked after a while. She turned to look at him and studied him for a while. She noticed that his lips were chapped, his eye brows a bit thin, and there was the faintest bit of stubble on his jawline. His eyes were big and almond shaped and his fair framed his face in a way that almost looked intentional. He had high cheekbones, an amazing bone structure and eyelashes that most girls would've killed for. He couldn't quite be called handsome but he wasn't feminine enough either to be called pretty.

Beautiful, her mind supplied. That's what he was. Beautiful but in the boy way. All edges and rounded corners. Unlike girls who were all curves and sharp corners.

She could see why so many girls were willing to go to the Slag Heap with him.

She shook her head and stood up, holding out her hand for him. He raised both eyebrows but took it and pulled himself up. He followed her as she walked, "Where are we going?"

She tilted her head back to look at him and took his hand again. He was confused but he didn't object. "If I'm going to be telling you about Haymitch I'm going to need a drink or two."

He nodded and pulled on her hand, so he could walk a little closer to her.

She didn't object.

DONE! I know this took a while and I'm SOOO sorry but midterms are a bitch. But like I said before, I'm NOT giving up on this story. I hope you liked this chapter, I personally liked the ending more but ehhh whatevs. If you guys are confused about anything in my story feel free to ask. Anyway in the next chapter instead of just a "talk" like a couple of chapters ago we are going to have a real heart-to-heart between the two. So look forward to that!

Review!