**So sorry again for the delayed update, I just don't seem to have enough hours in the day. I'm going to continue to update as frequently as life allows me, so please keep checking. Hopefully nothing in this chapter seems cliché (as little bits of this could be considered) but at the same time what is a fanfiction without a bit of cliché? haha :)

Thank you Thank you again for your reviews and for reading! I wish I knew a better way to say thank you... so I guess I'll just have to keep writing and finish this story for you! :) :)

This is my first shot at a FanFiction. Please let me know what you think. :) I DO NOT own the Hunger Games Series. Some lines taken directly from Suzanne Collins' books.

I haven't read many FanFictions either so any theme resemblance to other Hunger Games FanFiction is entirely coincidental.

Chapter 12:

It was five days of waiting, five days of worrying.

After making my call to Haymitch, I went straight to the woods instead of school, I know I should have gone but I needed to make up for lost time. I felt so guilty about not hunting that morning. How could I have done that? Let myself get so absorbed in the Capitol's "entertainment". Hadn't I always hated them for making us watch the games every year, made fun of the citizens of the Capitol for setting aside hours from their life to watch a television show and then despised them for gaining pleasure from this whole twisted thing? Now I was no better than the rest of them. If Gale were here I wouldn't be watching, we would be sitting here on our rock him ranting. Of course Gale is not here and it is because of him that I have sunk to such a level. He would tell me to forget about it, to stop watching him in the games, to display a bit of rebellion. He would tell me not to sacrifice who I am for his sake, because that would be doing what the Capitol wanted.

My predicament reminds me of all those family member who cannot seem to tear themselves away when they have brought fatally injured loved ones to my mother. Up until now I have never understood why they do it, sitting there watching my mother work is not going to help, it won't change the outcome. Yet there they sat. For me, looking at the television screen isn't going to keep Gale safe it isn't going to stop the Careers from killing him or heal his wounds. Yet there I sat.

I think I understand now. You want to share in the good moments that bring hope, and at the same time you would never forgive yourself if you weren't there when things went bad.

It's like Gale said in his interview, Its what you do for the people you love. Love? Did I love Gale? Of course I did, it all depends on what kind of love. I've never thought of him that way before, I've never wanted to feel that way about anyone. I know he's more than my friend and there is something that connects me to him, that keeps me from walking away, but I don't think it has a name.

I decide to rest a bit before hunting I'm exhausted from staying up most the night and tired I won't be an effective hunter. Lying down in the cool green grass under the shade of a tree I finally begin to relax. It is funny how the place that is supposes to be "scary" and "dangerous" is the place I feel safest.

I am woken by the sound of birds when the sun is high in the sky. Rubbing my eyes I stand, catching a glimpse of wings fluttering by. As I silently walk through the woods the birds follow me. They are mockingjays; I am reminded of my father and how they use to listen to him sing. They are still all around me when I have finished hunting. It was nice, their singing and chirping made me feel less alone.

The Hob is where it happens. As we sit in front of the tiny television, we see our tributes receive their parachute. It is a jar of ointment. The people in the Hob erupt into cheers, smiling, some hugging and clapping each other on the back. You can feel the joy, this is truly a reason to be happy and we have very few of those. Greasy Sae serves up an "on the house" round of soup to celebrate.

Gale and Madge quickly coat their injuries with the medicine and right away it appears to provide relief. Rue has found leaves of some sorts which she chews up into a mushy paste and applies it to their tracker jacker stings. Madge makes a disgusted face as puss oozes out, which soon turns to a look of what I can only describe as pure ecstasy. The lump even shrinks down some- that in itself is encouraging.

"How did you know about this? To use the leaves?" she asks, looking much more comfortable.

"Being from District 11 I work in agriculture and up in the trees I encounter all sorts of insects. This is how we treat them," she proudly states.

"Well thank you District 11." She wraps her arm around the girl smiling.

While the girls continue to talk Gale is making a fire to cook over, that is when I notice half a dozen arrows sticking out of his backpack. He must have gone back and collected the ones Glimmer shot that were misses. This is good news since snares require you to plan on staying in one area for a while where as a bow and arrow will allow him to get food on the move. The animal he is skinning looks familiar, I can't figure out why.

"So what is it like in District 12?" Rue asks to no one in particular.

"Great." "Terrible." Madge and Gale reply at the same time. Confused glances are exchanged. I hold my breath for this is a dangerous topic to be presenting Gale.

"It's not that bad, it could be much worse. I mean the rest of Panem seems to have forgotten about us, I don't think I would want to live anywhere else." Madge looks right at Gale as she says this, her eyes pleading him to hear her out.

The television screen flickers. Power surges are not uncommon here. So we ignore it.

"Yeah, well you live in town. Not to mention you are the mayor's daughter, you do have it pretty good. I wouldn't expect you to question the way you live. If you lived in the Seam and had to do what I have to in order to keep my family alive you would think differently." Gale's voice is sharp. He's frustrated at her, but it's not really her fault.

The screen flickers again. This time the disruption is longer.

Gale has plunked himself down by the fire, arms resting on his knees; he then reaches out rotating the spit. He is fuming so he focuses on the fire like it is the most interesting thing in the world- to control his anger.

Rue has perched herself next to him, conveniently creating a buffer between Gale and Madge.

"So, what exactly is this? I've never seen this kind of animal before."

Gale keeps his eye fixed on the coals, poking them with a stick. "It's a very small lynx." That's it! That's why I recognized it!

"Is this something you have back home?" she sure is curious. Who wouldn't be though, we don't hear much about life in the other districts. Madge shrugs. Gale nods.

"Yeah, every once in a while. Actually, Rue, do you want to know something?" He looks up at the eager girl, there is a softness in his voice. I have heard him use this tone many times with his younger siblings. "It's because of a lynx that my friend officially got a nickname," he turns to Madge directing the next part at her. "When I first met Katniss, we were out in the... well you know... and one of these started to follow her and then-"

The screen goes completely black.

No one said anything. We knew this time that it wouldn't be coming back on anytime soon.

"What has that boy done?" Ripper is the first one to speak.

What has he done? He's said too much that's what. But why? I rack my brain to put together everything I know of Gale to try to figure out what his logic behind this is. Did he suddenly forget they were being watched? Unlikely. He's too smart to do something so dumb. So what angle was he working?

I hear the beeping of a comminicuff, "Darius? What's going on?" I ask as he jumps up, rushing for the door signaling the other Peace Keepers to follow.

I hurry after him. "Darius!"

Outside the small group of white clad Peace Keepers who were stationed at the Hob are marching along at an accelerated pace towards the Justice Building. I sprint to catch up falling into step next to Darius, his communicuff still beeping, a concerned look on his face. Though he doesn't really acknowledge my presence he says out loud, to no one in particular, "Seam has lost power, looks to be intentional."

"Intentional? By whom?" I demand, speaking right at his face. He barely flinches.

With a blank face he says what he's been trained to, in an even monotone, "It's confidential Capitol business."

"Oh don't pull all that confidential nonsense with me. That's never been your style," I spit out. He doesn't respond until we've reached the top of the stairs in front of the Justice Building. Coming to a sudden halt the other Peace Keepers keep walking while Darius grabs my arm, pulling me to the side.

"Darius are you-"

"Shh. Katniss go home." He says pointedly, enunciating every word.

"This has something to do with what they were talking about in the arena doesn't it?"

"Katniss!" he barks.

"Doesn't it?" my tone matching his.

Taking a deep breath he says, "Look. I know about as much as you do at this point." However something in his eyes tells me I'm right. "Now please go."

Darius turns me directing me back down the stairs. At the bottom I snap back around when I hear the door slam shut. I'm frozen in place. This cannot be good.

"Katniss what are you doing?"

I turn towards the voice. "Peeta!" I am actually glad to see him. I rush forward stopping right in front of him.

"Does your television work?" Not your typical greeting but it was the first thing out of my mouth.

"My television?" I can tell he is confused.

"What I mean to say is do you have power at your house?"

He still looks confused as well as amused. "I don't know. I haven't been home yet- just heading there now. Why?"

"Because the power in the Seam has been cut off."

"Oh strange. Well why don't you come with me to check?"

Usually I would say no right away, instead I find myself saying yes and walking over to the bakery with Peeta at my side. Even though my brain is going a mile a minute with worry I'm very aware of Peeta. The confident way he moves arms swinging with each stride.

I find the silence between us awkward he must have noticed too for he says, "So I saw at school that they got a parachute, guess Haymitch is paying attention."

"Yeah, that and I think he'd rather not deal with me again," I try to make my voice sound light.

Peeta gets the joke and laughs, "I don't blame him. No offence but you can be pretty intimidating when you're mad. I think I took the phone from you mainly because I was scared of what might happen next."

"Sorry about that," I say with a breathy laugh.

"No need to apologize. At least now I know to stay on your good side."

I'm surprised at how easy it is to joke with him, how there is no censure or insult. Despite everything I do feel a bit better.

He leads me around to the back door of the bakery, I hesitate before entering but Peeta reaches out and tugs on my hand giving me one of those reassuring smiles, encouraging me step into the warm sweet smelling kitchen. Mr. Mellark is standing at the counter kneading dough and my pulse quickens; my instinctual fight or flight kicking in. I feel like I've been caught. I must have stiffened because Peeta gives my hand a squeeze. Why was he still holding my hand? I quickly peel my palm from his; however the warmth from it lingers. Mr. Mellark gives us a big welcoming grin, dusting his hands off on is apron, flour puffing out in little clouds, he comes over.

"Afternoon son. Katniss, I haven't seen you in a while. I've got myself a hankering for one of your squirrels." He winks. I hadn't been by again since that day Peeta answered the door.

"Good to see you too Mr. Mellark," is the only response I can come up with.

"Hey dad, is the electricity on?"

"No actually it's not. About fifteen minutes ago it just cut out. No problem though, it won't affect the baking. Your mother is peeved the store is a bit darker- not that the one light bulb before did much anyway." Peeta must have inherited his charm and light heartedness from his father. "Why do you ask?"

Since it was really my question Peeta lets me answer, "Power cut out in the Seam too, I wanted to find out if it was District wide."

"Well I'm sure it will come back on soon. With the games going on they won't keep us without power long."

This was true. I guess I really had been taking advantage of the regular continuous electricity at home. Usually during the year we only get a couple hours in the evening but with the games they want us to be able to tune in frequently and easily, best way to get their message across. I wish I knew what they did with all that "extra" power later on after the games are done- why couldn't we keep it all year round- I suppose the Capitol would worry this would make life easier for the people in the Districts. That sounds almost too sensible.

"Until then Katniss you're welcome to-"

"I could use some help out here!" A female voice snapped loudly from the front of the bakery. "And where are those trays? You better not be just sitting around back there!"

Mr. Mellark made an amusing face. "Duty calls," he scooped up the two trays, hefting them onto each shoulder. "As I was saying Katniss you're welcome to stick around here for a while."

And with that he was off to remedy the situation with his wife.

"Dad's right. You don't have to go right away." I could tell Peeta wanted me to stay.

Since there is nothing to rush home for, no way for me to check up on Gale, I reluctantly realize I have no excuse. This would definitely be better than sitting at home with the blank screen tormenting me. So I agree.

He probably hadn't anticipated me staying, given my track record, and seemed lost for a moment. Unsure what to do.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"That's ok. You don't need to go to any trouble."

"No trouble, I was going to get something for myself anyway."

I give in, but only under the condition that I will have whatever he's having, that I don't want him to do anything extra for me. He then hands me a steaming mug.

"Tea. No sugar," he says.

This doesn't bother me; I wouldn't have had anything in mine if I had made it at home because we can't afford additives like that. But I'm curious as to why he doesn't. Living in a bakery these things would always be available. So I ask. His reasoning, besides the fact pretty much all the sugar they have goes into the baking and his family doesn't have their own personal stock- which shocks me- is that his sweet tooth prefers to get its fix from the reject cookies he decorates.

And with that he pulls out a plate of said reject cookies; either broken or burnt- the ones that can't be sold. Over the course of that afternoon I learn a great deal of interesting things, things that even contradict some of my previous beliefs... about the ease of his life as a baker`s son.